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Trusting The Void.

This picture is part of the theme of the house - a place conducive for conversations, food, fruit shakes. Taken at Granada, Spain, waiting for our orders with only our coins as our lunch budget.

I stop any music when I write. I need to hear the voices in my head so I can shush them. I'm writing on my bed  now, lying down, with laptop all over my chest, I don't even know where to put it. My hands are in an awkward position and the screen on a weird 60 degree angle pointing at me. Gadget acrobatics. Like how I'm jumping up with so much brightness today. I got good news.

I'm so immersed and trying hard not to be stressed with this project of fixing my house.  I'm over-the-moon tested and everyday I laughably repeat this line to myself: "enjoying the process, enjoying the process", trance-like mind you just so I could get it in my head that this is after all still a fun thing I chose myself to get crazy in. I have to move in less than a month now and I don't have a contractor to fix it based on my specs (another story altogether), that is of course compatible with my financial capacity. 

The first candidate gave me an estimate almost 100% more than my allocated budget. Mentioning negotiation is a laugh. But I'm not the kind of person who gives up easily.  Hello, um di naman sa pagbubuhat ng bangko, but I masterminded with my travel buddy Nikki a budget of 170K pesos for our 3-week-euro-backpacking travel and it's not a joke, europe is an expensive continent to travel to for third worlders like us.  I'm an expert cheapskater, hopefully where it matters.

I set a deadline last Friday, find a contractor or it's do or scrap-this-project-altogether moment na. I decided to trust the Fates and hope that my Project The 5th a.k.a. Yes-Filipinos-Can-Afford-To-Beautify-Their-Home-On-A-Non-Exaggerated-Price will happen. And oh yes it did. Last Friday at around 5PM, a contractor emailed me with a price estimate that fits my budget perfectly to a T. She was my last bet. I literally jumped for joy. I'm astounded by how things could work out in the end.

I don't want to put a period though. I  mean, we have just started bringing into reality this insanely beautiful mess of an idea. Let the outrageous, exciting, creative and fun stuff begin!

p.s. I hope you will be as trusting too, probably  more so, because everything does work out in the end. Let humanity take comfort :).

The Giving of Ourselves.

From the SF Photo Album: The fog is so thick I have to name it Fogster. Still at San Fran.

So I have been thinking (uh oh), as a godmother to several wonderful babies already, if it's a good idea to choose me as a god mother where god mother means if anything happens to those kids, I am a candidate to parent the child, or I am considered to be a part of "the child's upbringing and personal development". And that I will guide these kids in this bloody journey called life. (It is bloody by the way - we have to experience all the heartbreaking stuff to be alive, yes?)

Maybe it's superstitious definition but enlighten me please what does it mean to be a godparent? I'm sorry for not attending any church teachings, I'm an idiot for not being clear on the responsibilities yet I'm glad my vague idea is still in line with what is the popular definition of being a god parent.

In my reflection, I announced to selected friends, of whose kids I am priviledged to be a god parent, that I will do what the wikipedia says I should do -- I will take part in their child's upbringing and I will dispense advise coming from my worldly experience or lack there of.  It's not like I received an applause after I said that, although friends that they are, they assured me whatever advise I dispense it will be valued.

Well the announcement also came with saying, I will no longer be giving gifts to their kids every Christmas, because I've come to realize god parenting seems to be associated with that, the giving of gifts. In my world, I don't want kids to focus on material stuff like the way that we were all brought up, to hunger for gifts more than deeds, more than stories, more than the intangible stuff. 

But what will I share? What will I give?  Sure, it's tradition to give gifts, I mean, why breakaway? There's such a thing as respecting tradition. I say yes,  but who was it who said -- a breakthrough to a different level of consciousness comes if there's bravery to throw away what we are used to?

I'm not saying this is a way to a different level of consciousness or whatever. Sighing here. I guess I just wanted to be a really real god parent, in its purest sense.

So here's my not-yet-sure-if-it's-a-bright-idea.  No more gifts. Instead, I have decided to hug my godkids every Christmas (whether they like it or not) and what's more, I will write them  long letters, which of course they will not read because they cannot read, but I will ask my friends to keep it until they are old enough to decipher the alphabet and piece together what the heck their Ninang Rose is trying to say and with no judgment they can decide to throw away or keep the letters - something like trash or treasure.

Perceived benefits:

• Supports the environment - no purchase of stuff means possibility of less garbage.
• Possible insights not coming from their parents. (You know how kids are with parents - come on, we've been there, even if they are right and have the wisdom of ages, just because of title and relation, we don't think they're right).
• Keeping connected.

Of course, now after having read this, my friends can feel free to disown me as a godmother to their kids. I will completely understand, we'll still be friends, as I hope I will still be yours.

p.s. I will give them dashing quotes like this: Dear child, "What if a demon were to creep after you one night, in your loneliest loneliness, and say, 'This life which you live must be lived by you once again and innumerable times more; and every pain and joy and thought and sigh must come again to you, all in the same sequence. The eternal hourglass will again and again be turned and you with it, dust of the dust!' Would you throw yourself down and gnash your teeth and curse that demon? Or would you answer, 'Never have I heard anything more divine'?"  of course by the quotable Friedrich Nietszche.

Talking Heads.

My favorite time and place to be. Sunset on the way to SF.

The worst thing one can do is not to try, to be aware of what one wants and not give in to it, to spend years in silent hurt wondering if something could have materialized - never knowing." -Jim Rohn (no idea who, hell of a quote though)

Finishing The Lonely Planet's Story and I'm getting hit by a travel bug again (the backpacking kind). I love Maureen's snippets of stories, when she recalls those terrifying moments of being approached by scary strangers, only to be surprised by their kindness and extreme generosity.  While reading the book and in between reminiscing, I realized - it's miscommunication, our know-it-all assumptiveness that distorts everything, doesn't it? 

Pansin ko lang :).  We people, we never really communicate, we just assume. And to tie it up, we buy greeting cards because we're too lazy to say what we mean.  Obviously, thanks 500 Days of Summer for the insight! By the way, believe the hype about this movie. It's really good. Quirky and light, and not a romantic movie at all.

Creases

Taken almost a year ago, looking at my window trying to think of something, past midnight if I could remember. Makati lights soothe me no end.

It's a Sunday. I'm typing this on my laptop atop a kabayo (ironboard?) squatting on my floor in front of the television, taking a break after ironing for what seemed like hours but in reality, measly 8 pieces of flattened creases.  It's my first time to iron again, after three months. I've always believed that creases will never go out of style.  But I don't want to go overboard, I've got blouses I haven't used at all because I don't feel like wasting my minutes ironing them. 

It's a good day for domestication.

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My link recommendation for the week is Moving To Paris Without Quitting My Day Job. I dedicate this link to Joy, my friend who doesn't know yet that she's doing the most valuable to-do we could ever list: soul-searching; Also lovingly dedicated to those who don't know yet that they will have to do this one day in their lives or for all their lives and to my perennially uneasy mind. Oh Zen, Chi of This Universe, come to me.

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In between the ironing and the writing, I'm eating couscous salad topped with falafel and olives which I got at Legazpi Sunday Market. I love that market, it's always a food discovery. Today, I got a free ginger from Kuya selling organic veggies, he said wag ko na raw bayaran, even though I insisted I pay for it. It's for my fresh juice concoction. I love this community and in over a month I will be moving to a different city, I will miss this neighborhood so badly which I have called home for the past 5 years.

For all its towering concrete, for all the confusing one-ways and the nasty very-exclusive policemen, it has been friendly to me. I have mastered its streets but on days when I least expect it - I get lost again, I love the tree-lined walkways which always invite me to commute from the malls to my place. I won't miss the flood though ;). I will miss these weekend markets, the easy access to Fat Michael's and Som's Noodle House, the comfort of a deliciously served korma over at that small Indian restaurant at Salcedo Village, the many discovered restos, or shops, the convenience of being a walking distance to everything. Oh yes, the convenience.

I remember when something happened to my toe nail and in a minute I quickly rushed to the ER of Makati Medical Center, on foot. I remember getting a haircut over at the next building still on my pajamas. Or buying fried wanton with rice (best-kept secret: soyomansi!) at mini-stop in the middle of the night, rain pounding, in just my tsinelas.  It's still a city waiting to be discovered. I have yet to try the wheat pandesal cooked on oven over at Makati Avenue, allegedly a must-try.

Yet I'm moving out. I guess it's time to get to know a new city. And we should not be attached to what we are used to. Here's to changes.

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Google Wave is ... I haven't decided yet. Anything new from Google always surprises me in a good way. What kind of breakthrough in communication behavior would this bring now? I could imagine before where we argue that face to face conversation beats email or chat anytime. But with Wave, it brings us closer to what we want...do you notice yourself editing your message before clicking send? It's an expression, a nuance that speaks a lot more than the message you send. It's like the raising of an eyebrow.  With google wave, that's pretty much transparent already. I love it, that it becomes more real. I hate it, that it doesn't hide it now, your doodles no longer censored. But then again -- In this day and age, shouldn't we be more...transparent? 

Isn't this what we want? Exciting and hesitating thoughts all captured. Hmm.

I got an invite forwarded by my teammate Alex. I'm so excited to try it.

Aftermath.

From the ever-lasting Eleanor Roosevelt, one of my most favorite women (I'm actually looking for a biography about her): Do whatever comes your way as well as you can. Think as little as possible about yourself and as much as possible about other people and other things that are interesting. Put a good deal of thought into happiness that you are able to give.

Back from 3-week vacation reuniting with my sister, a vacation spent with family.  To say the least, it was inspiring and really invigorated me. I guess when we call forth the universe what we need, it will do anything to make it happen. At this point in my life, it was that experience I need the most. There were a lot of mundane moments like playing wii with dad, cooking dinner with mom, washing the dishes, watching TFC with Manang...while normal and pretty ordinary to tell, the conversations and the laughter, even mom's sermons are what made it ours, doesn't it? I hold those memories dear because I don't know how short life is. Stay connected with people you love, with anyone.   

I quote the above - Eleanor reminded me of my sister :). 

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You know what totally kills me? The Ogori Cafe. One of the strangest concepts that will keep us connected, and keep us rooting for each other.  I think it can be applied to any country and when traveling this is the kind of discovery I would totally drool over.

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Re-united with my friend Jaja too, over at her home base San Francisco. I miss her. I miss the endless laughing of palagpat moments with her. I remember distinctly the burst of sunshine over at the car's window from foggy San Francisco, while speeding through the bridge going to Napa Valley. We were a picture of summer (minus the fog in the background teehee), two girls singing their hearts out, so loudly, out of tune as usual, to the music of, dare we sang, Defying Gravity.  

The moment broken by a question from Jaja, "Parts, is Napa Valley in Santa Rosa? Why is it showing Santa Rosa sa GPS man?" We're so not navigator material - even if we have GPS Hahaha! Which basically made the trip more spontaneous and fun.  More stories soon.

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For me, the most soulful place I've been to in the United States is San Francisco. The vibe is intoxicating. Hippie kasi, it does embrace difference. I remember in our hallway during highschool, there was an engraved quote written by one of the founders of that school -- "Dare To Make A Difference." In San Fran, it's not even a dare, it's a lifestyle. 

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I was not here in Manila when Typhoon Ondoy hit the city - I sympathize dearly to those who were affected. I'm still asking about stories from others, it never ends, does it?  The only exception is that I do not have the bladder in me to donate moolah because of trust issues with my government and even with private local institutions. I have my dependable pink boots, so here's to time and effort and to "love, truth, faith".

Him Luce.

In two months, I finished damn three books and all pure awesomeness. The latest -- I, Lucifer. So before I start gushing about the book which was to say the least - pretty good fiction by the way, of almost-epic proportions, of wickedly charming british sense of humor magnitude, of myth-busting but still a myth genre if you know what I mean, it is important to note that in this quick-to-judge-religion-is-still-the-center-of-this-country's-universe, this book is pure fiction po. It is in fact inspiring, Lucifer takes on the body of a human Declan Gunn and he thinks its a walk in the park, takes on vices, decides to tell his side of the story, but soon realizes there are much more complexities a human being experience than what he anticipated.  The whole concept is nakakagigil for me kasi when the author describes how Luce (naki Luce? haha!) experience the world like how we humans do, it was like a child grasping everything in its 5 limited senses, and it's refreshing, and I want to stop and smell the roses na rin! Yeah, insights from Son of the Morning himself (herself? do they have gender? in this book apparently Luce is a he). I like the author's prose, sometimes I cannot understand when Lucifer rambles, but there are gem of insights in between a chuckle and smart-ass musings. At the end, you begin to think some off-the-cuff remarks may not really be all pure fiction.

My best part of the book when Raphael, his good friend/brother, took on a human life form just to convince him to give it all up:

Poor Raphael. Torn in two. He put his hand across the table and covered mine with it. His fingers were oily from the olives. "You don't think you've been missed, Lucifer," he said, his eyes welling up. "But you have."

Well, I didn't like the way that made me feel. The Jack Daniels was kicking in and somewhere in the bowels of the travern a woolly speaker was releasing a surreal Greek instrumental version of 'Stairway to Heaven'. I started swallowing emptily. Oh fucking great. 

You know what's weird? One of my favorite books of all time, Time Traveler's Wife ended I think with this phrase, "world enough and time".  I Lucifer ended with those words too, excluding the epilogue. If there's world enough and time.

Handog.

This morning I was "live-chatting" the funeral mass with my friend Rachelle who's now living in Sydney, me naman here at rainy Manila, in front of my TV tuned in to ANC while Rach is at her office, surfing the news, finding whatever she can find of any footages of Cory Aquino's wake. I feel for Filipinos abroad - connecting with us from different geographies on this historic moment, when we mourn at the same time celebrate the death of one of the most honored president of my time, Cory.

I was driving to work yesterday and I was wondering what personal memories do I have about the EDSA revolution, or about Cory? On a personal level, how can I really appreciate this woman? Why am I drawn to this sudden outpouring of Pinoy love, the unabashedly emotional display of affection that usually unites us as a nation? I'm not into politics, I think I've written this down here so many times. I get attached more to personalities, not so much on the policies they uphold but who they are as how I've read about them (i.e. Barack Obama, Pope John Paul II, etc.). I fall in love with them easily. Cory if you ask Pogs, I was never really a fan of.

I remember when I was a kid, during snap elections and I was around 6 or 7 years old -- I can read the comic section already of the newspaper -- I asked my parents who were they voting for. My mom immediately told me to be quiet and both she and dad told me, "si Marcos, sino pa".  Mom told me to hush and not talk about it. My parents are government employees, and I understand now (now lang, as in) why there's that fear, of having to be secretive. It was martial law, if you're from the government -- you go against it, you might be dead the next day.

I want to pay respect to Tita Cory, because now I know that my parents can tell me who they voted for without being scared to say who. Now all of us can share our opinion about the government without that fear that we will be snatched into the night. Now I can use my google without censorship ;). This is democracy at its rawest form that I can appreciate now.

This morning I got a call from Dad and she told me my mom is glued to the TV, same as me, watching with tears on her eyes the funeral services for Tita Cory. Dad joked, for the first time ever, mom is okay delaying mahjong just to finish watching the ceremony. A few hours later, my sister from the state of Barack Obama called too. She's watching it live streaming, crying too. I guess today, all Filipino families can relate to us.

I told my sister about the memory I had above about the EDSA revolution. She told me mom and dad might be lying that time. I asked why. "Di ako sure ha, but do you think they really voted for Marcos? Hello, our kid sister is named Kriscor"

Our kid sister KC, who passed away over a decade now, was born in 1986, EDSA revolution and was named after Kris and Cory Aquino.

Tita Cory, to freedom and now for being my best example of servant leadership. Thank you! Next step: me to queue up this weekend to get registered for the coming elections.