Epal Moment of the year!

All I can say is that, I wish I didnt smile as much! ang epal ko! haha!

Do i I look like I haven't taken a bath in the photo? (nod?) of course... its because I haven't. After being cornered at Via Mare, sunday night, no thanks to Roberto (and accomplice Bianca), I proceeded to spend the rest of it running around to find markers and cartolina. Do not ask me what it was for... I'm still groping for words to explain how I got myself there...

When I sent Roberto a message that I am free for the evening, I was ready to get wasted and to get drunk. I was wearing my black skull dress as a prep. Wore goth makeup with black kohl lines in my eyes.ashen gloss and a "kinda-sorta" depressive expression to go with it. Had my mother saw me, she would have disowned me -- which is not far from happening anyway. We haven't spoken for almost a month now, btw (but that's another complicated story of my life).

I was already looking the part, with my red high platform havas to match the red rubbers of my braces, I was ready to enter the dark side.

If I remember correctly, it was Roberto was the first one to get me drunk without me realizing it. There were three of us then. It was my first time to meet him. I didn't know then that rice makes him grumpy. We were with a foreigner, so naturally rice is not part of his daily routine. But I'm a chicken-and-rice girl. I live and breathe because of chicken and rice. They ordered beer and other sundry stuff. Like a fool, to be polite, I told myself to wait for them to order rice before I order mine for dinner, it was, after all, past 6pm, they are bound to eat something of substance...or so I thought.

Come 9pm, the two just drank beer...I ended up closing the night, half shouting my theory of relativity in an attempt to philosophically explain how we are all a product of our human history...Not being coherent but trying to be by shouting -- like that foreign guy you see that raises his voice when he orders, thinking that the waiter will understand him regardless of the fact that the waiter doesn't speak his language -- I was that...except I was not making an order...and the two are not waiters. But like that guy, I just didn't make sense.

The next day, we met again, I was careful not to be in the same state... I went home feeling funny but sane. The third night, we met again over buckets of beer. In the fourth night of the beer marathon, I responded to the invitation by saying "I have a fever". That was the end of my beer drinking career.

That sunday night, after having been done with all the stresses of my life, I thought it apt to drink my way to oblivion as a reward. But life has a funny way of making you change your plans. And life is not very patient, it makes you change it immediately. Roberto brought me a friendly face from Mindanao who snapped me out of my drinking fantasy by telling me that I need to get up 7am the next day. I nodded and life approvingly made the weather easier for me to accomplish my treasure hunt ---> from one block to another, in search of markers and cartolina, and thankfully finding them at 7-eleven. After obtaining my jewels, i found myself at a coffee shop making plans and nowhere near getting drunk (drat)! My ghetto-morbid attire is making other people stare at me and I was looking too happy for my goth make-up.

But life decided to put in another surprise. A friend came by to uproot me from my little homey coffee shop. I ended up watching a movie, squeling in embarrassment for the actor, and going home hungry and stressed than ever because I havent started my cartolina job yet. Needless to say, I was a zombie when Biancatot woke me up via text.

And that is the story of that funny face in the first picture. I looked out of place...because I was out of place. Having slept so little because of going home late and waking up before everyone does because of a too early appointment, the madness of it all tends to register in the face.

Thank heavens, sanity came back the next day.

the culprit, roberto

the accomplice, biancatot

Health.Beauty.(and)Wellness for Creative Exchange 2009

Health, Beauty, and Wellness.
our VIP guests will surely purr in contentment

We have started last year and now on our second year of celebrating good relationship with clients and friends. We've done the Cultural and Fierce performances last year, this year, we have decided to do an intimate gathering for selected guests. A muted elegant atmosphere with complementing music and a more warm setting this time. Lighting it up with incense and scented candles coupled with relaxing free massages, facial spa, special treats...

Felicitea, Market Basket | Friday, 6:00 pm | Sept 04, 2009

This theme is being inspired by the uprising buzz of SPAs in Davao City. Of course, doing a SPA Party means we'd be introducing something in that line too. Soon to open in December: REJUVENASI, Davao's first anti-aging SPA. With treatments using Galvanic method, everyone can now age gracefully...literally.

Our signature Facial

Rejuvenasi Signature Facial

To calm, balance, and revitalize

45min - 1hr | Php 1,500

Skin regenerative results in just a few minutes

The luxurious facial spa you all have been waiting for. Pampering you with a 5-10 minute facial massage infused with Marigold, sea kelp, and vanilla extracts to soothe and condition the skin. Followed by 5-10 minute Hydrating spa treatment. Indulging you with 5-10 minute massage of Arginine to help your skin recover from stress. And lastly a rich facial spa treatment of Magnesium to energize, invigorate and revitalize.

Effects: restore skin's natural vibrancy by removing impurities and promoting cellular energy. Slows the signs of Aging, instantly erases crows’ feet and laugh lines, lifts up sagging facial features, cleanses and hydrates leaving skin feeling incredibly soft, clean, and refreshed.

dazed in manila (again.)

(written in agave.many nights before)

green and orange lights is constantly distracting my reflective mood. But Roberto and Bincatot is here and both are a distraction themselves...in the best sense (both good and bad). Roberto just recently asked me what do i need? Never mind the premise of such question. Hmmm...so what do i really need? a backscratch and a footrub. My warm bed, my books, and the incandescent glow of my night lamp...

(...continued in davao)

After being in manila the nth time -- I still feel lost here. (Oh well, i get lost anywhere regardless anyway). It's ok to get lost -- but to feel lost is another thing. Maybe because I never really accepted Manila as home. It never has been -- don't think it will be in the future. But who knows...nobody really knows anything. I don't even find it relevant to ask in the first place.

but somewhere along the way, after the nth time i got annoyed because of no particular reason, I found me a little home sweet home. In the 5th floor of azotea de bel air are 3 bunks for the urban tiger like me. Clean and fresh, cozy and vibrant...warm people that treat you like family -- exactly what i need. It's a treasure in the heart of makati -- and in front of tito chito's watering hole.

I still find manila impossibly noisy and crowded

there are some things that you just have to surrender to. I was in Agave when I first wrote the first few paragraphs of this blog. The lights, I bet, are still blinking in its orange and green glow there, the dj must be probably playing a different set of music in the same volume range.-- enough to jumble your already mixed up brain but a few notches short of making you a permanent deaf. A group or two must be crowding their tables outside with maybe a loner in a corner drowning silent tears with a bottle of beer... maybe a chick with a margarita, trying to get drunk for the first time. But one girl is missing...ME. I'm not there seeking my solitude amidst the loud melody of their music...I bet Roberto is somewhere in Merville doing things I would probably be doing if I was him. I don't think Agave will miss me... But the lights might notice that a fan is missing its glorious display of oragne and green tint. Do you think it will look for me?

long distance relationships

Long distance relationships is not challenging...it is a challenge.

It happens when crazed-and-intimately-attached- lovers decided to be in a binding relationship regardless of the existing endless water and mass of earth sitting like a plump fairy between them. But this plump fairy is not very accommodating with wishes, it is hard as a rock, deep as the abyss, and frigidly cold as that raw meat in the freezer.

It doensn't let you cross it for free. Arline tickets and cruise packages are extremely expensive that the word "filthy rich" and "robbery" comes to mind often.

It won't even let your voice pass without a fee.

It has numerous toll gates.Conflicting bodies of government.And landmines waiting for some fool to play with it.

Not to mention warring parties with deadly nuclear weapons that can destroy the earth 7 times. Duh. You can only destroy the earth once. Once it blow, everything disintegrates rendering the other 6 useless... hoookay? well if , and only if, by some miracle everything disintegrates and the 6 remained intact, nobody will be alive then to miraculously push the button of destruction once again.

The END-OF-THE-WORLD episode of our lives can only happen once, and its so absolute that nobody will be left to say "Bravo! Magnifico! that blow really blew me!". So let me tell it in advance to the genius, whoever he/she may be, wherever he/she may be located.

"congratulations for making sure everybody die an equal death, may we all rest in peace"

With all these lunatics between us, storms and climate changes, taxes and VATs, not to mention wild animals on the prowl, both four and two-legged...long distance relationships become a rock-climbing, off-road expedition of mixed emotions and frustrations that sends us crashing head on.

And so, lovers' break down because others just break away.

But does distance really have to do with it?

I've seen couples not torn by different timezones and geographical obstacles act as if they have a black hole existing between them. One can be so near yet so out of reach at the same time.

But blame it to the world becauase the world doesn't complain.

Never mind that our pride is more difficult to climb than its highest mountain.

Never mind that we become fickle minded, swaying more than the wind that courses through the trees.

Never mind that our anger is far more bitter than the storm that wrecks the fields.

Never mind that our eyes wander like a stranger sometimes.

Never mind that we sometimes take the slightest offense as a mock reason to create an impenetrable wall to those closest to us.

Never mind that we sometimes create our own world where no one is allowed to set foot upon.

Never mind that we sometimes wage an invisible battle where enemies are meant to lose no matter what.

Blame it to the world because it can only whistle its heartaches.

because its rain drowns its pains and tears.

because it survived the weathering changes of time, making it even stronger and beautiful as lovers continue to grow apart.

Yes, blame the world as our madness takes us to the edge of sanity as we collectively create and destroy cities in the name of pride and love.

But if you really want to test your capacity to endure a long distance relationship, be a priest.

Submit yourself to the "holy marriage" that requires absolute obedience and fidelity.

Where your partner is omnipotent that sneaking out to party at night and going home with a lame excuse of overtime will be just that, LAME.

And arguments are out of the question.

So jealous that being everywhere is not even enough that spies and assassins in the form of demons and angels are being sent and instructed to remind you of your sins with visions of hell to instill fear in your heart.

A partner that neither believes in telephones nor customer service.

A partner you cannot woe with chocolates and flowers.

A Partner that you cannot shout at (well, you can always try).

A Partner you cannot stand to lose.

Where communication will always be like an exercise of patience because it's like being on hold forever with intermittent flashes of light to daze you with constant subtle reminders and threats of hell sung in a melody of a song that is longer than "stairway to heaven" to keep you company while you wait for the operator to come.

It is not a long distance relationship -- it is an impossibility-made-possible relationship.

Where distance does not only exist, but another plane of reality stands in the middle of it all. This time the fairy is far more cruel in its collection of taxes. Where you pay with your everything including your sanity.

And unlike the plump fairy called THE WORLD, it will only allow you to point your finger towards yourself --blaming your imperfect existence is the only option.

Bummer if God doesn't really exist.

Double bummer if he does and you committed adultery.

murky waters

I find myself thinking about the brown muddy water one finds on a clay ground after a bashful of rain. I do not want to dwell on the reason why I suddenly felt the impulse of thinking such weird thoughts... as I am more pre-occupied of the feelings it creeps inside me whenever a picture of a puddle returns to mind.

No, I am not easily put off by dirt and nor do I squirm when I see mud. There have been times when the warmth of the wet earth between my toes soothed my aching feet and calmed my bruised soul as I faced an endless road with only my thoughts to keep me company. Where my companions are also busy keeping their shaky spirit sturdy as they wipe their brows with the back of their hand.

The thoughts of those long walk makes me smile and sigh at the same time. But the mud between my feet were alies... friend to the weary traveller... comforter of battered thighs and weathered bodies...

The golden color of the earth as it squish between my toes changes hues and everytime I try to look at my feet, I see more of the mud than of the flesh I am made of. But ashes to ashes, dust to dust -- or so the saying goes...aren't we all, in one form or another, as muddy and as dirty? just like the earth we step on?

When we take our last breath and our carcass thrown to the ground... after the last rite symbolizing our return to the womb of mother nature, don't we all crumble to become the same dust and mud we walk on? are we not every bit earthy as every bit of soil that makes up the earth we live in?

and so I tell myself, why feel uncomfortable of the thought of a muddy puddle?

I don't know.

It is one of those moments where we feel something we cannot explain. I bet you also had that experience of just feeling something strange,

like being happy without a reason,

feeling fear without knowing why,

feeling uncomfortable when there is no obvious reason to be so...

and you just do...

You don't ask why...

sometimes, you don't even stop to acknowledge the feeling...

happened so suddenly... so fast, that it throws you on a wheeling spree of emotions that only you could understand because YOU feel it.

But you understand and you don't understand at the same time. Coz you can't seem to find the right words to explain it... You cannot assign a language to verbalize it. And every attempt to verbally reconstruct that feeling you cannot explain always end in failure...you find it to be a feeble move...for to bottle something that is fusing profusely, knotting you almost is physical discomfort, even to the brink of pain...to bottle something that makes you wanna explode...is just an impossibility...

and so you end up frustrated. You feel alienated from the people you want to share it with. Misunderstood by the few who tried to reach out... Everyone feeling disappointed and useless.

And so when you feel that confusing mixture of feelings, that cartwheeling emotions that threatens to destroy your little comfortable bubble... you tend to keep quiet.

Lost in your own thoughts. Drowned in your silence. Overwhelmed by the experience... Regretting your inability to patch others in the moment. Disappointed how they cannot get to you.

You feel alone but not lonely.

You become tired but somewhat satisfied.

You become fearful, because the unknown always bring the fear in us.

Surprises, good or bad,and that uncertainty of feeling and not feeling, knowing and not knowing, living and not existing. Of being fearful and intrigued, of being bashed and battered and feeling satisfied despite of it all, always make our hearts jump.

Just as the muddy water and the thought of it splashing as a pair of feet steps on it makes me hold my breath, I find myself bathed in this crazy experience of finding and not finding -- not that I know what it is that I am not looking for in the first place.

A splash of mixed and construed emotions that makes me want to run for the fear of being mad. But for sure, I haven't lost my mind (or have i?)...although, it is a possibility that it was my mind who have lost me.

Incapable of understanding the moment I am in and the experience I find myself swimming in the middle of, could it be that it decided to leave me behind to wander off towards normal things it can grasp on?

Like me, my mind fears everything it cannot understand.

Everything it cannot accept just cannot be true... or so it insists.

Until proven...sanity must be grounded on a level whereby it can be defined, determined, dissected and discussed.

The swirl of emotions and the shock of understanding and not understanding, of feeling and not feeling, and merger of being there but not really existing...is...like groping in a deep puddle of muddy murky brown water.

You instantly fear, you suddenly think about things you normally wouldn't think about...after all, you do not know what vile things plagues the bottom and the bottom, you can only feel but not see.

You y try to guess knowing you cannot fully know.

You grope and you shiver with excitement of promised unspoken adventures as your mind opens a chest of treasures of endless possibilities while it dictates that the unknown almost always cannot be trusted.

The mind will step on it, just as the pair of feet will put its weight on the brown slimy soil... splashing the brown water sideways, parting the earthy paste...but no matter how many times the feet tries to part it, it seeps back to its place in the earth. Just as the mind might try to discern, dissect and understand, the confusion of having contradictory emotions will always find a way to throw the balance of our once stabel thoughts.

The mind, like the feet, may try to feel the warmth the murky muddy earthy confusion of the moment offers... but neither can stand eachother for so long.

No, the feet can only stand the mud for so long before it starts to itch, before it starts to look for the fresh refuge of water... And no, it doesnt matter that they are of the same composition. It doesnt matter that the feet that moves in the muddy puddle is made of the same earth the brown slimy mud is made of...

So no, the mind might feed from the mixture of emotions and experiences it receives, sharpening its understanding of how to go through the world...but just as the feet would shake the muddy existence of the brown earth off it, the mind will find a way to construct a sane explanation of things and feelings that it is confronted with...It will try to shake off the confusion and disturbing emotions unti it succeeds.

yes, until it shakes off that uncertainty of feeling and not feeling, knowing and not knowing, living and not existing. Of being fearful and intrigued, of being bashed and battered and feeling satisfied.

Don't ask me why.

It's just feels so.

It just seems right that way.

For it is also not right for mud to overly fester on the feet, nor do abstract emotions to forever distract the sanity of thought...

That's how things are.

It just is.

im busy.

things I'm doing the past few days

checking the fish

trying to reach i nirvana

ditracting myself from hunger

busy testing the air if it is still breathable...

checking if labor rights are being respected.

being the evil passport chieftain

--had to quit coz te neng and i found the golden buddha - ehe! =P

My Name's hidden meaning, find out yours.

You Are Peaceful and Content

You are relaxed, chill, and very likely to go with the flow.

You are light hearted and accepting. You don't get worked up easily.

Well adjusted and incredibly happy, many people wonder what your secret to life is.

You are friendly, charming, and warm. You get along with almost everyone.

You work hard not to rock the boat. Your easy going attitude brings people together.

At times, you can be a little flaky and irresponsible. But for the important things, you pull it together.

You are usually the best at everything ... you strive for perfection. 

You are confident, authoritative, and aggressive. 

You have the classic "Type A" personality...

You are truly an original person. You have amazing ideas, and the power to carry them out. Success comes rather easily for you... especially in business and academia. Some people find you to be selfish and a bit overbearing. You're a strong person.

What's Your Name's Hidden Meaning?

mom.

Quietly celebrated Mother's day Today.  I am not a woman who notes every special event --I should, but I am currently struggling with my children's birthdates that I do not have the time and patience to add "special days" that is mostly dictated by tradition and enhanced by commercialism.  

I have nothing against tradition, in fact, despite our gadgets and techie toys, most of our perspective are still traditional, shaped by prejudices, sharpened by old lessons and hardened by our mother's nagging.  

I, for example, am battling the chain of domestic chores that our patriarchal society tie on women.  I've struggled to become an independent modern woman, with a career to toy with and a clean sink to go home to.  I was successful in avoiding the dishes, but I still find myself washing plates of different kinds.  It's like leaving my simple little kitchen to prove that I can, only to find myself doing THE task I'm avoiding -- but this time, in a more complicated and bigger food station. 

My mother, in all her strictness and monologues, was not wrong when she said that I will someday be like her.  In all my daring attempts to test my boundaries, I find myself creating a pen around my children's.  In my careless wanderings, I find myself holding back my kid's attempt to explore outside the line I set for them.  In all my modern perspective, I still cannot help myself from raising my kids the way my mother raised me, not as tight -- but close nonetheless.

I stil don't understand the concept of nagging, but I think it has to do with the flood of information that you want to share and the rush of emotions and the limitations of language. 

 The experience of wanting to protect the people you care about is so intense that words are not enough to cater your flowing affection.  My mother, was scared to lose me as she watched me struggle as I try to break the cocoon she made for me... She felt a sense of urgency as she watched me peel off layer after layer of the sheltered life she gave me that each verbal reminder is thrusted with a forceful blow hitting the mark harder than usual.

She unknowingly bruised my memory, wounded my soul, and hurt my pride.We always hurt the people we love the most.  But it's been years since I've stopped licking my wounds. It's a love and hate relationship -- the best of its kind.

I am a mother now.  Or trying to be a good one. But I will always be a little girl in my mom's eyes. 

*smiles I find nothing wrong with that.