tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-61526956932383310322024-03-05T15:41:24.149-08:00Sense and Sensibility... a view of what and how I think (even if it is scary)diosahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00918790077184936159noreply@blogger.comBlogger26125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6152695693238331032.post-1138835377017981252013-01-12T13:56:00.001-08:002013-01-12T13:56:36.734-08:002013<br />
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2010, my mother host the annual Gonzales' Family reunion.</div>
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I wished. And hoped. And prayed.</div>
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But we were not able to attend.</div>
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2011, my parents' 50th wedding anniversary.</div>
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I wished. And hoped. And prayed... harder.</div>
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But we were not able to celebrate it with them.</div>
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2012, no significant event but I still..</div>
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Wished. And hoped. And prayed.</div>
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But we still were not able to come home.</div>
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This year... 2013</div>
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I am wishing. And hoping. And praying.</div>
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For things that I do not want to happen</div>
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So it will never really happen!</div>
diosahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00918790077184936159noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6152695693238331032.post-37949060726896014682012-11-19T19:16:00.000-08:002012-11-19T19:16:10.750-08:00Men In The Pedestal<br />
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Behind a great man is a great
woman. That’s how it goes but apparently, behind a man’s failure is also a
woman. Have you ever noticed that great
men were always been toppled by a woman? In the past years, we have seen this
correlation come to life before our very eyes.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7G93ysarLH_FvDOG9vm_1JMMCFWOkOD2X91Zds0YqKhCFG7-yoYI0kbbPBwwGTexa6ERmQo54fWzA695HBU_vWP0a2kMMAgyiylf4EZjf9MI-XkJqXWNLfU_aAFNmGTHw7lZbdeKSk_as/s1600/clinton-lewisnky.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="246" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7G93ysarLH_FvDOG9vm_1JMMCFWOkOD2X91Zds0YqKhCFG7-yoYI0kbbPBwwGTexa6ERmQo54fWzA695HBU_vWP0a2kMMAgyiylf4EZjf9MI-XkJqXWNLfU_aAFNmGTHw7lZbdeKSk_as/s320/clinton-lewisnky.jpg" width="320" /></a>Who could forget the now infamous, White House Intern Monica Lewinsky and a so called friend Linda Tripp who tediously recorder her conversation with Monica that almost cause President Clinton’s impeachment. And yet Hilary Clinton with her grace and elegance faced the humiliation and embarrassment with head held high and came out the stronger person she is right now. I admire her for that.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxgz5hkZoifqo862tWnI8qWH3EQHT1r6ivErjTti7waOEJh7X9JayjJ2UMyVzqTEoPsAGvX-XiJLXGD53NaE4GOqxSKvmFNxqxd0GDkaiPLSzajCwNtiMMPb00sN8rwZL2FWQvhJIxGZ62/s1600/edwards-wikimedia_606.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="211" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxgz5hkZoifqo862tWnI8qWH3EQHT1r6ivErjTti7waOEJh7X9JayjJ2UMyVzqTEoPsAGvX-XiJLXGD53NaE4GOqxSKvmFNxqxd0GDkaiPLSzajCwNtiMMPb00sN8rwZL2FWQvhJIxGZ62/s320/edwards-wikimedia_606.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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John Edwards, Senator and former candidate for President, affair with a former videographer Reille Hunter. What’s extremely sad about this story is that the wife, Elizabeth who stands by this man was diagnosed with incurable breast cancer while this scandal was unfolding. And he denied fathering a child with Hunter not admitting it until the end.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRjO0xUzpToJIYtp9QCBuG6cM584rXhUthjsqY_aaV6_LqYEQWeV3apzhu1guWieyxK5Vu8zVU42UFei_i5IqPhsyIIsZLUOWcIeoUsyvK4yR7SOv21106t76V48tVRu9EJoKoS_Eapy0z/s1600/rielle-hunter02-300x430.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRjO0xUzpToJIYtp9QCBuG6cM584rXhUthjsqY_aaV6_LqYEQWeV3apzhu1guWieyxK5Vu8zVU42UFei_i5IqPhsyIIsZLUOWcIeoUsyvK4yR7SOv21106t76V48tVRu9EJoKoS_Eapy0z/s320/rielle-hunter02-300x430.jpg" width="222" /></a><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkEGhz77EGjkV_6arto6i2S7u2rBc6cbrCWE1Zejk2METJoaKxwbCCf7WXOOgBBcuu2Ho2AuNdrUO83uYznA1V-U3osZU34jM1kCWReymU147qi9USBXaGZKg6zIkoH8Haj5Hay3tuVgIO/s1600/0518-arnold-child-mildred-xmas-ex-wm-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkEGhz77EGjkV_6arto6i2S7u2rBc6cbrCWE1Zejk2METJoaKxwbCCf7WXOOgBBcuu2Ho2AuNdrUO83uYznA1V-U3osZU34jM1kCWReymU147qi9USBXaGZKg6zIkoH8Haj5Hay3tuVgIO/s320/0518-arnold-child-mildred-xmas-ex-wm-2.jpg" width="319" /></a>Mr. Universe himself was not spared from this spectacle. Arnold Schwarzenegger, the Terminator was terminated (hahaha…) by his wife Maria Shriver, a Kennedy at that, after an explosive news about an affair with the housekeeper and having fathered a son with her. But in spite of that Maria Shriver stand by her man that made a lot of women admire her more. Eventually though, I guess her patience run out too, gave up and then file for divorce. Come to think of it now, perhaps she got tired of all the other ones he had an affair with, as per the book he’s written where he confesses all his extra marital affair to his wife which I personally think is sick. Why would you kick a person in the gut while they are already down in the gutter? I see him now as a pathetic individual who is selfish and unkind. Though I love his movies (i.e., The Terminator {I guess because he doesn’t have a dialogue except for the famous “I’ll be back”}, Predator, True Lies {indeed}, and of course my favorite Eraser) it is all lies.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjssWtNdgOzeiaQfEInEMbh0EygSg7Zg7aCvxjwOxIUOqOfYoVsojpumf9ARVpAQ-33rysjYUZ55QG6R743aMVaLxfwMmQL5xfRjWHIdGidFyIS-ocV-zlzzwFsFFSn_ONpIJ7TvkqoHcmt/s1600/article-petraeus-broadwell4-1112.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="226" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjssWtNdgOzeiaQfEInEMbh0EygSg7Zg7aCvxjwOxIUOqOfYoVsojpumf9ARVpAQ-33rysjYUZ55QG6R743aMVaLxfwMmQL5xfRjWHIdGidFyIS-ocV-zlzzwFsFFSn_ONpIJ7TvkqoHcmt/s320/article-petraeus-broadwell4-1112.jpg" width="320" /></a>And just recently, a well respected CIA Director David Petraeus not so much as publicly admitted to having the affair with the biographer Paula Broadwell yet it is all over the news and sadly the cause of his resignation from a very prominent position in the government. Yet again, his wife Holly Knowlton though furious and hurt, stands by her man. But the big concern here now is if he passed on classified information to her during the affair that may jeopardized the national security. This affair might have not been know if it hadn’t been for Jill Kelly who complained to the FBI of harassment from Paula Broadwell who apparently is threatened by Ms. Kelly’s presence in the life of Gen. Petraeus.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="text-align: justify;">What is wrong with these
stories?</span><span style="text-align: justify;"> </span><span style="text-align: justify;">Powerful men, publicly adored
and respected yet they find themselves in an awkward situations.</span><span style="text-align: justify;"> </span><span style="text-align: justify;">The key word here is “power”.</span><span style="text-align: justify;"> </span><span style="text-align: justify;">They are confident they can never be
caught.</span><span style="text-align: justify;"> </span><span style="text-align: justify;">They believe they can get away
with everything. And they are most certainly hoped are going to be
forgiven.</span><span style="text-align: justify;"> </span><span style="text-align: justify;">But like everything else, they
are wrong with that conclusion. Well, just some of them.</span><br />
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So there they were, men in
pedestal, now in the hall of shame.<o:p></o:p></div>
diosahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00918790077184936159noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6152695693238331032.post-37574497735375799392012-11-04T08:54:00.001-08:002012-11-04T08:54:28.044-08:00A Day of Celebration<br />
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<a href="http://coolest-birthday-cakes.shippony.com/images/misc/boxes/happy_birthday_cake_12.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://coolest-birthday-cakes.shippony.com/images/misc/boxes/happy_birthday_cake_12.jpg" width="327" /></a>As you all know, I just recently
celebrated my birthday. Back home, on a
day like that, I get to have a birthday leave.
But celebration always starts on the weekend before the actual
date. My mother would cook me her
special recipe called the mustard hotdog beef wrapped, my favorite of
course. My sister would cook her <i>pansit</i> or my sister in law would make
her spaghetti with cream. Any of those, I know I would enjoy that Sunday right
before my birthday celebrating with my whole family. On the exact date though, I would imagine a
wonderful plan. Since my husband has to
work that day, after he leaves for work, I would take my time eating my
breakfast of coffee and <i>pandesal </i>with
cream cheese. Lounge around a bit before
hitting the shower and off I go to start
the day with a trip at the parlor. I
will have my nails done, manicure and pedicure of course. I will have my hair trimmed or maybe a new
haircut is in order. By the time I get
done, it will be lunch time. I will have
to meet my friends for that. Maybe a
lunch out for them in Megamall or somewhere near their office will be a great
place. Chatting away during lunch could
be exhausting so a movie will relax me a bit.
After a movie, shopping is next in the agenda. This will surely take much of the time in the
afternoon so while waiting for my friends to get off work, a snack at Panera
Bread is perfect. And so, the night life
starts in a bar somewhere in Malate. We
would watch a live band or maybe sing our heart out at a videoke bar. It would be in the wee hours of the morning
when I would be home.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Aaahhh … a day of celebration.<o:p></o:p></div>
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But not here. On my birthday, I
had to work. There is no birthday leave.
There is no weekend celebration. And
there is certainly no day in the spa.
The celebration happens a day after the actual birthday. I had to buy Pansit Palabok and eggrolls from
a Filipino store. Guests are friends whom I consider our family. Well, this is the life I have now. No more gallivanting to the mall in any given
day. No more leisure spa treatments,
though my nails both hands and feet of course, is in desperate need of cleaning. No more free time to do whatever I want even
on a work week. <o:p></o:p></div>
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This is the life I have now. Get over it already!<o:p></o:p></div>
diosahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00918790077184936159noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6152695693238331032.post-19005385914499938532012-08-23T15:33:00.001-07:002012-08-23T15:43:38.652-07:0043 And Still Growing<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUO8BkODW66RISCjKNykMme8AFkYwAaRqK-JzxPptmRFZjMOOAPZXfDcd1XiDqy8u-hajqbbDQ9Bo-_rQQNX7tuNv02aWXq3M8ZiFQgmvEvtDJoUKlzHzMmLt3ULclE5VMsq_VyVN4rHlK/s1600/08142012151.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="178" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUO8BkODW66RISCjKNykMme8AFkYwAaRqK-JzxPptmRFZjMOOAPZXfDcd1XiDqy8u-hajqbbDQ9Bo-_rQQNX7tuNv02aWXq3M8ZiFQgmvEvtDJoUKlzHzMmLt3ULclE5VMsq_VyVN4rHlK/s320/08142012151.jpg" width="320" /></a>I just recently celebrated my 43<sup>rd</sup>
birthday (yes, you read it right) and it has come to my attention that I am not
young anymore, you think? I just realized that!
With all the things going on around us, particularly me, I thought
things are well but in a blink of an eye we are here at this moment. I scarcely deny how old I am because I don’t
feel that old at all. I felt that years
has gone so slowly and dragging that I don’t feel I have even aged or grown. But as I ponder on the years, it hit me like
a sack of rice in the head that time, do fly by so fast.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTXeiRdIy7hAFKWS4KTHVECoZZLMoQd3Tam1aLsy_irUPXoGRcMSyuauSeqPjQnp2GdVlY6-RlhrpxFWmJ4WYn-fNq43K80r_2v0BRis_CgtrP5SoniwVPPfH4XZDKDcJDNdy9sbgnWd-w/s1600/08142012153.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="178" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTXeiRdIy7hAFKWS4KTHVECoZZLMoQd3Tam1aLsy_irUPXoGRcMSyuauSeqPjQnp2GdVlY6-RlhrpxFWmJ4WYn-fNq43K80r_2v0BRis_CgtrP5SoniwVPPfH4XZDKDcJDNdy9sbgnWd-w/s320/08142012153.jpg" width="320" /></a> I was 33 when I came to America. Naïve but full of vigor, I thought I could do
anything. Realizing that it would take a
lot of sweat and tears to survive this journey I have to take. Sweat and tears indeed, because I have no
doubt that that was what I’ve gone through during my 10 years here. That is one thing I love about Filipinos, we
are resilient and adoptive. We can live
anywhere and everywhere in a good or bad situation. We adopt, like a chameleon. I learned that through my years here and I am
thankful to the people I’ve met along the way who made the journey easier. Here are a few things I have come to discover
and learned for the past 10 years:<o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">1.</span><span style="font-size: 7pt; text-indent: -0.25in;"> </span><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">Not all “friends” are real. I discover that a
lot of people who said that they are your friends meant nothing of the sort but
they wanted to be your friend so long as they can benefit from it and get
something out of it in return. Too bad I
learned that the hard way.</span></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]-->2.<span style="font-size: 7pt;"> </span><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">Not
all “relatives” are blood related. Same
as friends, there are so many who pretend to treat you like one but there are
only few who are sincere and true.
Sometimes it is better to have a non-relative to be with rather than a
blood related relative who stabs you in the back. I have fortunately able to identify them both
and happy to say that true ones have emerge the winner.</span></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]-->3.<span style="font-size: 7pt;"> </span><!--[endif]-->In
connection to number 2, you can’t choose your relatives. It is unfortunate
that in a family, there will always be one who is the black sheep or a bad
“apple”. Even if the tree is as good as
it gets, it does not mean that the fruits bore was as good. Sometimes, one or two fruit is rotten. And they are still relatives, so what can you
do?<o:p></o:p></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]-->4.<span style="font-size: 7pt;"> </span><!--[endif]-->Last
certainly not the least, I have learned not to trust people as easily as I used
to. There are people who will just take
advantage of that trust, stomp, crushed and beat you until you are lying on the
floor screaming. I have also learned my
lesson here the hard way. I am just
really sorry that it had to be that way.<o:p></o:p></div>
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And so, here I am. Forty somethin’ and still learning… growing!<o:p></o:p></div>
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Happy birthday to me.<o:p></o:p></div>
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p.s.<o:p></o:p></div>
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thanks for the best gifts ever!!!<o:p></o:p></div>
diosahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00918790077184936159noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6152695693238331032.post-90621005007364330292012-08-06T07:55:00.002-07:002012-08-06T07:55:52.905-07:00My Love Affair<br />
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<a href="http://ia.media-imdb.com/images/M/MV5BMTYxODMyNTQ5OF5BMl5BanBnXkFtZTcwNDg3MzQ5Ng@@._V1._SX214_CR0,0,214,314_.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://ia.media-imdb.com/images/M/MV5BMTYxODMyNTQ5OF5BMl5BanBnXkFtZTcwNDg3MzQ5Ng@@._V1._SX214_CR0,0,214,314_.jpg" /></a><span style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit; line-height: 16.363636016845703px;">I started reading romance novel at the age of 13. Nope, I did not start with Nancy Drew or Hardy Boys but went right straight to Mills & Boons. It was a great influence from my relatively big group of women cousins, not to mention my sister who is 5 yrs. older than me, who were all reading pocket books. I witness the frequent exchanges and trade ins of the books between them. The most popular back then was Mills & Boons. I've seen the wall of bookshelves my oldest cousin have in her room where we, my lady cousins, always gather around to borrow from her. The very first book I read was by Janet Dailey. Too much drama if you ask me but I love her just the same.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Reading to me is very fascinating. I do not know if you experience the same way I do when I read but I think its really powerful. Because when I am reading a book, it seems to me like I am watching a movie in my mind. I can picture the characters and the events happening just like a movie. I specifically like the part where I can almost feel the tension, twist and turns of the story that I am a live participant. And that starts my love affair with books.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I moved on to read authors like Jude Deveraux, Judith McNaught and of course Barbara Cartland. These writers made me love the Victorian and Edwardian centuries. The ballgowns and corsets added to the romanticizm of that time. I loved those historical romance books.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">After a while, I jumped from one author to another, getting bored with what I read. I am looking for that adventure and romance that I found from the previous books I read. The excitement I felt reading about riding horses, attending a ball on my gown, getting invitations for an afternoon tea in the gardens and meeting the dashing Earl or Duke who will swept me off my feet. I guess all I need is time...</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I came across a certain author named Patricia Cornwell, a recommendation from a friend. An author who ignites my curiosity for mystery, crime and action. Then came, Stephanie Mayers, who introduced me to the world of vampires. I know everyone must know her name by now but for me, I've only know her from the movie Twilight. I would have never read her books if it has not been for the movie. Then again, I give her credit for it ignites my interest for vampires.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">A couple of months ago, I went to a second hand bookstore to look for more books I can sink my hand into. I am looking for new adventures and possibly a mystery. I saw from the top bookshelves was about eight paperback books lined up together of the same author. It seems to me that it is a series of books. Curiosity kicks in as I grab all of them thinking, this should be good or I am returning these books.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Happy with my purchase, I got home and started reading Dead Until Dark by Charlaine Harris. And whoooaaa, it was great! I was taken to a world of supernatural that I have never been before. Yes, it was about vampires and wolves like Twilight but this is INTENSE! Really ABSURD! CH, short for Charlaine Harris, is funny, witty, smart and incredibly good. Let me tell you that I could not put the book down as soon as I started it. She is amazing!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">So now, I would like to say I am sorry to the Montgomery's, Taggert's, Earls, Dukes and Prince's I've known all those years reading but I have a new man in my life now and his name is Eric...</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Eric Northman, Viking Vampire. Bwaaahaahaaahaa...</span></div>diosahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00918790077184936159noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6152695693238331032.post-13606764202753612482012-07-23T15:06:00.002-07:002012-07-23T15:06:56.654-07:00What's Up With That?<br />
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">We went to our own church this Sunday. Because lately we were going to Saint Itas in Chicago with our friends. I thought it was really great since we don't have to wake up early or hurry up getting ready and have to travel 30 minutes to get there. It only takes us 5 minutes and we are usually 20 minutes early for the mass. It gives us a chance to choose our sit which is usually at the right side of the altar, watch people coming in and reflect on things before the mass starts.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I knelt for a while hoping to get my mind cleared. Took out my prayer, which my sister and mother gave me, from my bag and started the solemn and quiet prayer. Before I knew it, the church started packing with people. It was the first time I noticed that the crowed was mixed of all type of race. Different color of skin, hair and to my suprise age as well. It felt good to me that Christianity has come a long way since the time they were prosecuted and condemned.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Four rows in front of us, sat two old ladies we always see. Perhaps they were sisters or old friends because they always come together and sits on the same spot, if they can and always at that 11:30 am mass. Further on the right, there is the family of five. The parents and their three girls, all blond haired. They are all grown up now. I remember when we first saw them, the eldest is just about 3 yrs. old and the youngest at that time is about two and quiet the loudest one and the mom is pregnant with the now youngest. How time flies. Up on the back row, I can recognize faces I've seen and exchanged "peace with you" with before.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">As the choir gets ready... I noticed a couple of new faces which mostly are teenagers. I particularly paid attention to a teenaged girl who sat with probably her grandmother in the very front row. She was wearing a tight red tank top and black sweat pants. As the mass started, while everyone is standing and singing the opening song, she started scratching her lower back. Pulling up the back of her tank top and putting her hands inside her back pants which I think is very inappropriate. The guy sitting behind her whisphered to the girl next to him perhaps to comment of that behaviour which I can't blame him. It almost showed part of her butt when she did that scratching.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I looked around, wondering if other people noticed it too. I guess I was the only one who is not paying attention to the mass that I noticed it. And so the mass progressed on, until I heared somebody's cellphone ringing. And I saw one teenager texting right behind me. OMG, what is wrong with this people! That's it... I was totally distructed now.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Communion came and I got a chance to see people wearing inappropriate clothes. I see people wearing shorts, tank tops and tub tops in church. Some are in slippers and flip flops. Whatever happen to the time that we dress up to go to church? I remember when I was a kid that my mother will dress me and my sister colorful yet appropriated dresses just to attend mass. I also remember the time when women and girls wear a veil going to church. Whatever happen to those times?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Whats up with that? People use to dress up really well when they go to church. I remember in high school, I went to catholic school, the nuns would always remind us that when you go to mass, its like going out on a date. It just so happen that your date is God. And you would always dress really nice when you are on a date right? So what happen to that concept?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I also remember the times that as a kid, my mom would give us this look whenever we misbehaved in church. I knew back then that I am going to get it as soon as the mass is over. She would lecture me about behaving in other peoples' house which is just like attending the mass. You are a guest in God's house that you have to be quiet, listen to your host and no moving a lot. Otherwise, I will get that tiny pintch in the crouch.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">And whats up with the cellphone ringing inside the church while there is mass. I understand that some people can't live without their gadgets even for a minute but please put them in silent as a respect to others. And whats up with texting inside the church? Can't your message wait until the end of the mass?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I don't know what is happening to our society today... but Christianity came a long way indeed and this is where we end up???</span></div>diosahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00918790077184936159noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6152695693238331032.post-71332826341057804952012-07-23T15:05:00.001-07:002012-07-23T15:05:39.593-07:00It's Been A While<br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Hello bloggers... I know its been a while since my last blog. Its not that I am very busy and have no time to log in. In fact, I am often on facebook but I was just looking around and sometimes, just doing nothing waiting for something to happen... hahaha!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">But I have something to tell you about this new thing I am into. Actually its now new to me... lets just say that I am back into reading books. And I mean... reading a lot of books.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Apparently, the reason why I stopped reading, which I love to doing by the way, is that my eyes gets soooo tired easily and I can't read softbounds anymore due to its small letters. Yes.... yes .... yes ... I know! I just needed glasses for reading. So there you go... I finally admitted to myself that I am getting old and needed reading glasses.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Now that we have that all cleared... I am going to tell you this thing that happen to me which excites me as if I am like a teenager!</span></div>diosahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00918790077184936159noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6152695693238331032.post-24432628432270922142012-07-23T13:14:00.002-07:002012-07-23T13:14:13.294-07:00Matt Albert<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgl4afUQevS02TY2fMjgwhShypuMR7ipt7e-LDJcPlgh9NR1ESunL_xL9U6gOLweG6q9O_FBnDE7XQ1ZNWFELRO5Wmrr1uMf-NsTf4FNRxmUHSBCV9956DhkdsCkmcqEkNZdM9iMfBBi6y/s1600/1.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5624818167408907330" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgl4afUQevS02TY2fMjgwhShypuMR7ipt7e-LDJcPlgh9NR1ESunL_xL9U6gOLweG6q9O_FBnDE7XQ1ZNWFELRO5Wmrr1uMf-NsTf4FNRxmUHSBCV9956DhkdsCkmcqEkNZdM9iMfBBi6y/s400/1.jpg" style="cursor: hand; display: block; height: 400px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 395px;" /></a><br />
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<em><span style="font-family: inherit;">I wrote this blog two years ago. I never got the guts to publish it because I know that it was still too early to do so. Another year have passed and I could not hold on to this feelings anymore. Now I found my courage, made a little editing and thought its time to publish it. I would like to apologize to my family esp. to my kuya for not asking their permission... I am so sorry, I know this is still a sensitive and hard topic for everyone but I think I need to do this to express my feelings.</span></em></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">It's been three years now since Albert died. I thought it's safe to finally talk about his death. But I was so wrong. Talking about Bebet, as we fondly call him, is still a very sensitive topic. Every time I mention his name to anyone, there's a certain painful tone on their voices especially my mom. It's been very difficult for her still to accept the loss. I guess it still is difficult for everyone but it is specially hard for her since she helped raised him and saw him grew up to be a fine young man. But for me, he is still the young three year old that I left behind 10 years ago. Wide eyed playful boy who just loves coming to his parents' office which is a walking distance from the house, to play with the staff which includes Loi and I. I still clearly remember his sad face every afternoon when its time to go home wondering when will be the next playdate. The funny look in this face when he swirl around the swivel chair. The naughty smile whenever we play "pitik bulag". I guess I will always have that image of him in my head. The sound of his voice ringing in my ears like he is there beside me, asking for a pair of shoes or a video game for Christmas. The feel of his body against mine when I squeeze him in a hug. The smell of him whenever I kiss him. Everyone of us have our own way of dealing with the loss. Some quietly thinks of him before going to bed. Some dreams of him in their sleep. Some expresses innocently their longiness to play with him again. Some just lingers of the thought of him. I, on the other hand have not fully grasp the loss of him since I have been away for so long. I regret that now. I could have been there many summers ago when my dad taught him and his siblings how to play tennis. I could have been there cheering him on when he started playing basketball. I could have been there to congratulate him in school for a work well done. Or could have been there when he had his first communion. I missed a lot when he was growing up but God has a better plan for him. And I know that he has his wings now and watches over us specially my mom. I just wished we had spent more time with him. More time playing with him. More time making precious memories together. All I have now are pictures of him smilling, that charming smile with his siblings and baby Enchong. A picture of him in his best blue long sleeve shirt and khaki pants with his proud papa receiving an achievement in school. Pictures of him having a grand time in the swimming pool with the whole family. And my most favorite of all, pictures of him with Enchong playing at the garden with the water hose. How time flies. Like Peter Pan, for me, he will never grow up. He will forever be that wide eyed baby boy who likes to play "pitik bulag" or "patintero" with Loi, Tey and Miko. The playful little boy I left behind ten years ago. I guess we have our own way of surviving after a loss of a loved one. I myself is not sure how I would have dealt with seeing someone I love surrender to their illness. Like a candle slowly melting away. God was good to me because He did not let me witness that because He knows I couldn't deal with it at all. I would have fought hard to keep him and that would have rift the family apart. And He is really good to me because He saved me the heartache of that sudden loss. Now, its time to move on. Time to be grateful for our days spend with family. Time to be thankful to God that we have been blessed with the kind of family we have. Thankful that we are alive and be an inspiration to others. And thankful God allowed us to share His angel, Matt Albert with us and spend those wonderful years however short it was with him</span><span style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;">.</span></div>
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<br /></div>diosahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00918790077184936159noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6152695693238331032.post-18856949995033078162011-06-10T14:08:00.000-07:002011-06-10T14:09:42.519-07:00A Dream<div align="justify"><br /><em>I was in a room... with lots of people that I somehow know. Though I don't recognize their faces, I know that they are family and friends. There is big celebration... a wedding! A man I knew from my past stands before me and my mother, who hands me over to the man. It was an arranged marriage and everybody around us rejoices. I felt like it was pre-arranged and that it would help somehow in our situation. I soon realized that I was wearing a white wedding gown... too big to fit me and that the room we were in was a church. The man was wearing a brown t-shirt and cacky shorts. He later put on a white shirt for the wedding. While everybody was rejoicing and celebrating, I felt like its my obligation to do this. The man though felt confused but went along with it. There was no ceremony or anything like that but we were dancing in the middle of the church were people around us where happy singing and laughing. I felt like I HAVE TO marry this guy thus need to fulfill my obligation to him. We went into a private room at the back of the church. We don't know what to do. So we talked. We told each other about our feelings. Since I know this guy from childhood, we agreed to make this work for the sake of our families and friends. We went out of the room and greeted them with smiles.<br />I heard somebody yelled my name... JHO!<br /></em></div><br /><div align="justify">I woke up feeling a heavyness in my heart. I feel so sad. I snuggled up to my husband who is sleeping soundly next to me and I started crying.<br /></div><br /><div align="justify">I don't know what this means. Please help.<br /></div>diosahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00918790077184936159noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6152695693238331032.post-18348171689651241362011-05-02T18:57:00.000-07:002011-05-02T19:06:10.326-07:00What's in a Name?Different people call me by many different names and I grew up having many different alias. I guess in different stages of my growing up years, I re-invent myself and thus change my name. But there are also alias that stick with me through the years. Let us review all of them so people understands how I have come to be with many names.<br /><br />I was born Diosa. It means a goddess or a female god, in case you don't know. A very unusual name for a person. Girls usually gets to be Aprodite, Venus, Athena or Hera but not diosa. Many times I asked my mom why she named me as such. Sometimes she murmurs an answer, sometimes she would just brush me of. No concrete answer. And don't let me start with my dad. He does not know squat! But I think it was my uncle, my mom's eldest brother who gave me that name. And since he is not in this world anymore, I will never know why he gave me that name.<br /><br />As a Filipino tradition, my name became baby, nene or ineng since I am the youngest child. But my uncle, another of my mom's brothers have his own tradition of inventing nicknames to whomever he happens to like at that time. Don't ask me where he got those names and reasons why he does that but it is always the family's way in introducing the new kid to him. In a sense, it felt important once you got baptized by his crazy nicknames. A name totally opposite or even ridiculous than your original name. Mine happen to be "Osang Makutate".<br /><br />My family got used to calling me "baby" until I started high school. I got tired being called "baby" since I am not a baby anymore, well atleast I don't consider myself that. Out of the blue, the name Joy come up. I don't know where that came from but that's another name I added to my ever growing list of nicknames. But in school... its a different story. You know how it is during teenage years. There in the middle of feeling of rebelliousness and independence, I think I developed a different personality and thus re-invent myself again and came up with the name Jho. During those years, it was very popular adding "h" to your name like, Dhel, Rhey, Lhiza or Mhel. Though a different spelling I naturally got Jho, short for Diosa. Later on, the family picked up on that nickname and so that started the name JHO.<br /><br />In college, during another metamorphosis, I learned to love my "real" name. It started when boys started noticing me and vice versa. They first noticed my unusual name that led to many quotes, poems and tales. They use this to profess their admiration and honorable intentions which got my attention.<br /><br />Now my family calls me Jho which I think is better than calling me Baby, which I must say pops up occasionally from cousins. Joy, I think faded away as unnoticed as it came. But my all time favorite is Osang Makutate. As unique and as Tagalog as my real name. There is only one person who still and will be the only person who calls me that. I never asked him why that name. I never asked him where he got it from. Osang sounds to me like "bakya" name but a sexy one too or is it because a sexy actress was named as such. So now I can only wonder why!<br /><br />- A tribute to Amang... I miss you!diosahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00918790077184936159noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6152695693238331032.post-74638900099550401342011-04-08T10:39:00.001-07:002011-04-08T13:18:49.953-07:00Buses and Trains<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjki4HVZcpBFvqJP_trNkA9qE3S32VLYgpf488ezaKcpU2A3Sq8MbNqti8I9gCTTvr28Wm4G3RDWfu8tgSk6EjPuoNn1Jk7PAcnChkfSRV9EpA3wkvAROaBl0kjJrQU8vUinmokpo7j8v_c/s1600/pace+bus.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 108px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 108px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5593309532447177106" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjki4HVZcpBFvqJP_trNkA9qE3S32VLYgpf488ezaKcpU2A3Sq8MbNqti8I9gCTTvr28Wm4G3RDWfu8tgSk6EjPuoNn1Jk7PAcnChkfSRV9EpA3wkvAROaBl0kjJrQU8vUinmokpo7j8v_c/s400/pace+bus.jpg" /></a> <br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFviWAAFXa-1DE__ugZg-r7nE8TGmnJwuSPrVyWoEF5Tib2lcP4BzuVZ-lyaAL1VLuv6I6ZT7kV2XanNVEA3lJK7FQl-jYjUuKsRPBOlOUBqGbcAvd2DytCdi1ERHKjJhOiHr61cucjhGz/s1600/cta+train.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 105px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 90px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5593309528559990946" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFviWAAFXa-1DE__ugZg-r7nE8TGmnJwuSPrVyWoEF5Tib2lcP4BzuVZ-lyaAL1VLuv6I6ZT7kV2XanNVEA3lJK7FQl-jYjUuKsRPBOlOUBqGbcAvd2DytCdi1ERHKjJhOiHr61cucjhGz/s400/cta+train.jpg" /></a> <br /><div align="justify">Have you ever felt like you are in a middle of a crowded room and you wanted to disappear? Or when you have a lot on your mind, decisions you have to make, weighing on your options and you just want to erease everything like a blackboard and start all over again? Or when you just want to clear your head of all the bad thoughts you were thinking? Because I do. Well, I found my way to escape all that without losing my head. I call it my "moving conscience". Whenever I feel like the world is crumbling down on me or that I need to just clear my head, I take the bus or train to wherever I wanted to go. No, I don't take them without any destination, that would be insane! I just love taking public transportation when I feel depress or lonely. I like the anonimity in a crowded train where other people are minding their own business. I like being in a bus where people come and go. I don't mind waiting in the station, standing still thinking nothing of the time whether its late or not but knowing the fact that the ride will soon come. I like watching the scenes pass by, cars and people moving about at their own pace. Tall trees I see replaced by buildings and houses as I move closer to the city. Even the traffic is a welcome annoyance to me. Because I know that after all these, I will still arrive at my destination. At the last stop, I either feel that my head is completely refreshed, depends on how long my travel is, or that partly I had cleared my head enough of any negative thoughts and ready to look at things in a different perspective. So when you see me on a bus or train, don't hesitate to say hi but be aware that I'm not there for long conversations. Don't feel offended if I ignore you for the rest of the trip. </div></div>diosahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00918790077184936159noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6152695693238331032.post-41657952071787811532010-12-08T14:36:00.001-08:002010-12-08T15:03:45.002-08:0012 Things I love about my husbandIt's our 12th year Anniversary and I thought I pay tribute to our years together by naming 12 things I love about my husband. This is just a random list of why I do, this is not necessarily enumerated base on gravity of each one.<br /><br />1. He lets me choose what movie to watch.<br /><br />2. He drives me to and from work whenever he can.<br /><br />3. He eats my cooking without complain even if I know its a disaster.<br /><br />4. He leaves me alone every time my favorite TV shows are on.<br /><br />5. He makes me laugh.<br /><br />6. He tolerates my outbursts of anger or mood swings. (I don't know how long he will hold on though)<br /><br />7. He always lets me choose where to eat on date night.<br /><br />8. He compliments me from even the smallest and biggest things I do.<br /><br />9. He loves my family and my family loves him.<br /><br />10. He works hard to provide a better future for both of us.<br /><br />11. He believes in me so much.<br /><br />12.He loves me no matter what.<br /><br />I could add more to this list but that would be for the next 50 more years to come.<br />HAPPY ANNIVERSARY BABE!!!diosahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00918790077184936159noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6152695693238331032.post-25457739530242270762010-12-08T14:24:00.000-08:002010-12-08T14:31:55.636-08:00Mine (My) Love Story<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIB6EVjSEWzgMB9WtBkwyuYEdO_tu2P8u0qO-WeiEvILe3FfgaPYtLkyjbOofBUUAsny1q7Q_1_RbnPfNAylvn_XCzwOiqZ4tKOuiiOeplA6A6mOnbPrPdoVfxgt7Cka8ABz27fha4D5eX/s1600/CIMG1516.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5548442779249793282" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIB6EVjSEWzgMB9WtBkwyuYEdO_tu2P8u0qO-WeiEvILe3FfgaPYtLkyjbOofBUUAsny1q7Q_1_RbnPfNAylvn_XCzwOiqZ4tKOuiiOeplA6A6mOnbPrPdoVfxgt7Cka8ABz27fha4D5eX/s400/CIMG1516.JPG" /></a><br /><div><em>I got tired of waiting…<br />Wondering if you were ever coming around<br />My faith in you was fading<br />When I met you on the outskirts of town and I said<br /><br />Romeo save me I've been feeling so alone<br />I keep waiting for you but you never come<br />Is this in my head? I don't know what to think<br />He knelt to the ground and pulled out a ring<br /><br />And said, marry me Juliet<br />You'll never have to be alone<br />I love you and that's all I really know<br />I talked to your dad, go pick out a white dress<br />It's a love story baby just say... yes<br /></em><br />I always save the best for last and so these two are the songs I choose for my babe.<br /><br />All my friends, at least all that are close to me, knows my love story. I love telling them to people because its trully is a love story. Fate, destiny or whatever you want to call it but for me this is my love story.<br /><br />We met when I transfer work to where he works. It just so happen that he was the one who needs to turn over my work to me. But even before I even started working with them, my boss already had her little plans going to get us together. From day one, her plans started with simple things. She assigned him to introduce me to all employees especially to those on the work site. She ask him to drive me around the construction site if I needed to visit. She even told him to take me home after our site visits even if its not yet late. She always finds a way to get us together. And even during meetings, she always finds a way to have us working together. For the first six months at my new job, I find myself being thrown into situations where I could not say no or even avoid being with him. For one thing, we only work in one company that has a very limited space to be avoiding someone. But I think we worked it well, trying not to disappoint my boss, who happens to be one of the owner of the company and she is a very sweet old lady. And I have to admit, I admire his patience with following orders without complain. Eventually, it became our routine. He would drive me wherever I wanted to go. He would help me out when I needed help with employees. It became so routine for us that even on non-work related duties, he was there for me. He would volunteer to come and drive me even on family outings and friends' get together, he would be there that he became a part of me without me knowing it. I guess the friendship that we developed over being literarily thrown together blossomed into a romantic one.<br /><br />I read somewhere, if you really want to know if you are with the right person... ask them what you wore on your first meeting. I found myself wondering if I remember what he wore that first day we met. He wore his tight fitting purple shirt and dark blue also tight fitting maong pants. I couldn't even remember what I was wearing that time but when I asked him years and years after we got married... he does remember what I wore up to the last details... my shoes. Talk about first impressions!<br /><br />Suffice to say, our first meeting was just ordinary day for both of us but left a very nice impression. I don't know why but we did not complain being thrown together. I guess, its because we also did enjoy each other's company. He loves music which I totally admire having grown up with music in my family. He's well educated and comes from a conservative very Catholic family which I think my parents really appreciated. Although thats just about the things we have in common... we compliment each other. In a way, we are opposites that attract. Can't tell exactly how it started but we became an item on its own. We developed our relationship without knowing when the friendship ends and when the love begins. I guess our friendship has not ended. It continued on until now, it just evolved into a romantic one. It may sound cheesy to you but that is how we came to be.<br /><br /><em>You said, I remember how we felt sitting by the water<br />And every time I look at you, it’s like the first time<br />I fell in love with a careless man’s careful daughter<br />She is the best thing that’s ever been mine…<br /><br />Hold on, make it last<br />Hold on, never turn back<br />You made a rebel of a careless man’s careful daughter<br />You are the best thing that’s ever been mine…<br /><br />Do you believe it?<br />We’re gonna make it now<br />And I can see it yeah yeah<br />I can see it now…</em></div>diosahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00918790077184936159noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6152695693238331032.post-81336794435424522992010-11-10T12:26:00.003-08:002010-11-12T12:20:49.671-08:00Tim McGraw<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDy6G-cwkyIkhq7DVEWtZYDNj5R8B78yGl1Jl8VGmXoe9LsNoLjrfwaza14UTCPDkFVKHElBJ1E4jGSZSu3DAWNF5kCkEke9Xy_DgT-oxn9QBpfQffBV4VDuTqWkm-liih4R4TckdRWaMK/s1600/tim_mcgraw%255B2%255D.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 280px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5538760661912381522" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDy6G-cwkyIkhq7DVEWtZYDNj5R8B78yGl1Jl8VGmXoe9LsNoLjrfwaza14UTCPDkFVKHElBJ1E4jGSZSu3DAWNF5kCkEke9Xy_DgT-oxn9QBpfQffBV4VDuTqWkm-liih4R4TckdRWaMK/s400/tim_mcgraw%255B2%255D.jpg" /></a><br /><div align="justify">This song makes me feel that its about a relationship that is short lived. The kind of a relationship that you know its not going to work but still you went ahead with it. Its not that you got into big fights or third party involved that you have to part ways. I feel like its the relationship that is never meant to be but you just have to have it. With that introduction, I could think of a few relationships I had that fall into that category. And the most that stands out is the one I could say I regreted the most.</div><br /><div align="justify">You could say that he was not my type at all but very special none the less. Very different indeed because I had a lot of growing up done during this time. I think this is when I really had a hard time accepting the commitment I have to make and sacrifices I have do to make this relationship work. For me its a reality check that somehow made me grasp the intensity of a committed relationship. In short, this is the one relationship that started me to take serious look at where I am heading. Starts to shape me for who I am today.</div><br /><div align="justify">We were introduced by a mutual friend. I didn't notice him at first because I had an eye on somebody else at that time. But then again, most relationships starts like that isn't it? So you can say we became friends. Talked on the phone for hours. Managed to exchange love notes on top of both our busy schedules. And I loved him for that. He is not afraid to express his feelings. You would think that romance and courtship is dead but he kept them alive. He was very sweet, always had a smile for me. You know when you have that close friend to whom you can talk about anything. No restrictions. No inhibitions. He is that one for me. I have never felt like that with anyone.</div><br /><div align="justify">But I guess, everything nice always have the bad side. I always thought that a smooth sailing relationship is always headed for a wreckage. I don't want to be the one to pick up the pieces so I run as fast away as possible. Too expensive to bet on my emotions and feelings, I thought it saved me the trouble. But it only brought me guilt and endless regret. A lot of what ifs hang in the balance and made me carry excess baggage until now.</div><br /><div align="justify">Eons past... we finally got in contact again. I quickly found out that he is still my "close" friend that I can easily talk to about anything. The only difference now is that we are both committed to someone else. Don't get me wrong but we are both happy, at least on my part. It doesn't change the fact that we are still friends. The topic of our conversations now revolves around our own family. Memories we made. The life we both choose to make. And the path that we both took. Atleast now, I can say I have no regrets.</div>diosahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00918790077184936159noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6152695693238331032.post-9991027884536729052010-11-10T12:26:00.001-08:002010-12-01T18:39:37.108-08:00You Belong With Me<div align="justify">You Belong With Me is a song about loving a boy from afar. A story about getting ignored by the one you love. For me, its simply disregarding my feelings about my commitment to our relationship. Perhaps I was mistaken. Perhaps I did not give him a chance. Maybe we just did misunderstood each other. But its all gone now. Everything is part of the past now. Let us start from the beginning to make things clear.</div><div align="justify"> </div><div align="justify"> </div><div align="justify">We met in a perfect time. We both had a stable job. We both were at that age. And we both were single. It was really a perfect timing for us. I could say that we were a perfect match then. I really thought that I would someday marry this guy. Not necessarily that time but eventually. Given a couple of years together and we would end up getting married anyway. Because it was the time when I thought I did met "the guy". </div><div align="justify"> </div><div align="justify"> </div><div align="justify"><em>Been here all along so why can't you see?</em></div><div align="justify"><em>You belong with me...</em></div><div align="justify"> </div><div align="justify"> </div><div align="justify">I have to admit, we had a great time though. We had a lot of fun. We shared precious memories. Got to know each other's family by attending happy family gatherings, even the sad ones. Talked about our plans in the future which I thought I was a part of. And of course reminiscence of the old times.</div><div align="justify"> </div><div align="justify"> </div><div align="justify"><em>Oh I remember you driving to my house in the middle of the night</em></div><div align="justify"><em>I'm the one who makes you laugh when you know you're 'bout to cry</em></div><div align="justify"><em>I know your favorite songs and you tell me about your dreams</em></div><div align="justify"><em>Think I know where you belong...</em></div><div align="justify"><em>Think I know its with me.</em></div><div align="justify"> </div><div align="justify"> </div><div align="justify">But I think, like most of my other relationships, this ended without any reason whatsoever. All of a sudden, there were no communications. I was waiting for him to make the first move. He probably was waiting for me to make the first move. Before you know it... days turn into weeks. Weeks turn into months. And so it goes.</div><div align="justify"> </div><div align="justify"> </div><div align="justify"><em>Standing by or waiting at your back door</em></div><div align="justify"><em>All this time how could you not know baby</em></div><div align="justify"><em>You belong with me...</em></div><div align="justify"><em>You belong with me.</em></div><div align="justify"> </div><div align="justify"> </div><div align="justify"><em>You belong with me</em></div><div align="justify"><em>Have you ever thought just maybe</em></div><div align="justify"><em>You belong with me...</em></div><div align="justify"><em>You belong with me!</em></div><div align="justify"> </div><div align="justify"> </div><div align="justify">I never got a chance to ask him whatever happen to us. I never got a chance to ask him if he ever thought I could be the one for him. I never got the chance to know. Perhaps I will never know.</div>diosahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00918790077184936159noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6152695693238331032.post-83592011031995593112010-11-10T12:25:00.001-08:002010-11-24T10:19:11.162-08:00Our Song<em>I was riding shotgun with my hair undone<br />In the front seat of his car<br />He’s got a one-hand feel on the steering wheel<br />The other on my heart</em><br /><br /><br /><br /><div align="justify">There goes the first stanza of the song. I could only picture one person that describe these first few lines of the song. But then, the next chorus line goes...</div><br /><br /><em>Our song is the slamming screen door<br />Sneakin’ out late, tapping on your window<br />When we’re on the phone and you talk real slow<br />‘Cause it’s late and your mama don’t know<br /><br />Our song is the way you laugh<br />The first date man, I didn’t kiss her and I should have<br />And when I got home, ‘fore I said amen<br />Asking God if He could play it again</em><br /><br /><br /><br /><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify">The whole scenario changed for me here and only remember one person who is a perfect fit for those lines. A perfect person who has been a part of my life and part of my most unforgettable experiences. We went through a lot of trials in our relationship and literally weathered storms but it was not enough to keep us together. I guess what we had was what you can call... growing apart.<br />We met during the time when I was not actually looking for a relationship. Just having those moments where I am not ready for a commitment. Just looking for some fun and some "me" time. Like I always believed now, it is not a good idea to gamble when it comes to your heart. A game you can not assure it would go your way. I ended up giving him my all. I gave him my heart in a silver platter... ended up wanting more from him but it was too early for that. I have to admit, I had no idea where it will lead me into but at the back of my mind, I thought it was going somewhere it was suppose to be going. But it was too fast! For me. And I guess for him as well.<br />He was the first boy I introduced to my family, which means a lot to me. He was the first one who introduced me to his family. And there are many more firsts that comes after that. Like the storm, there are a lot going on with our relationship that I felt like we were together for a very long time. Like we were old couples. He made me feel that we will be together forever and that nothing will keep us apart. I felt very happy and content. That nothing in this world will ruin our bond. But somewhere along that joy, my patience was tested and been questioned about my will to keep this relationship together. I lost that battle.<br />It was like a roller coaster ride kind of a relationship. We had lots of unforgettable memories. Lots of fun and treasured moments. But they are all part of the past now. This song reminds me of those times. A happy past that I will always treasure. I hope someday we would meet again and that we would be able to talk about those times with fondness. It was that time when we both grew up to be matured people and knew when to let go.</div>diosahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00918790077184936159noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6152695693238331032.post-48922495481921426372010-11-07T10:13:00.000-08:002010-11-10T12:44:53.019-08:00Teardrops On My Guitar<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh53Htv0f6Iw7-QmDKXor244iJ21v5BXZmY_Lxqk6M4SiblGbvMUrW3nULpn-6PCQRnw3SQi7dll2fnzWoykHRMzuDZIUcsdpXQRu1qpZ-NVi-RLxVufzpwC6NLo9jus7btc4LVQ_4w2SgM/s1600/guitar.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 300px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5536895466332060226" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh53Htv0f6Iw7-QmDKXor244iJ21v5BXZmY_Lxqk6M4SiblGbvMUrW3nULpn-6PCQRnw3SQi7dll2fnzWoykHRMzuDZIUcsdpXQRu1qpZ-NVi-RLxVufzpwC6NLo9jus7btc4LVQ_4w2SgM/s400/guitar.jpg" /></a><br /><div align="justify">Its actually funny when I think of my "Drew". We became friends at a very unusual circumstances. He is smart and funny. And what I love about him is that he did not give me any negative vibes. He did not push me away eventhough I know that he knows I am slowly falling in love with him. I guess he really wants to be just friends. He never took advantage of that feeling, atleast thats what I felt.</div><br /><div align="justify">I remember, I would probably be considered a stalker during that time. Being able to know his plans. Where he will be at a particular time. Just seeing his car parked in the same spot in the parking lot makes my day. Watching him walk along the sidewalk makes my heart skip. So you could just imagine what it would do to me when we talk on the phone. We gave each other nicknames. And fondly call each other those nicknames as code. I felt like its our "thing". Our secret. One day, I invited him to watch a game.</div><br /><div align="justify">I want that day to be special. Thinking that it would be our first and last date so on that day, I cut my hair really short. I thought it would be a new me. Hoping that he would like it. When he picked me up, I was over the moon. I thought he looked dashing in his white shirt and khaki pants. I could smell his cologne and when he smile... dimples and all! He was a total gentleman. Opening the door for me and holding my hand climbing the stairs. I did not care at all who won the game because I felt like I was the one who won having him sitting beside me. He kept brusing his hand over mine. From the game all the way to his car in the parking lot, he was holding my hands. My heart is racing, don't want to expect anything but at the back of my mind I have a candle of hope lit up. Hoping that this is the start of something good. He will only let go of my hand when he starts the car. Even while driving me home, he holds my hand. A very nice soft hands. And before I got off the car... he pulled me softly and kissed me. A long and soft kiss.</div><br /><div align="justify">Years have passed since that first and last date... first and last kiss and so I thought. When out of the blue he invited me to a party. What I thought was the end of it all, boy was I wrong! I knew he has a girlfriend. I knew nothing will come out of this "relationship" but I still want it. I love the mystery of it all. I love the secret nicknames. I love the coyness. And so we see each other again. The strong attraction is still there, at least on my side. Before the evening ended, all my confusion comes back again. The mystery... I knew he will never be mine but I guess thats the fun part of it.</div><br /><div align="justify">I realize that I will never forget him. That attraction he has on me is the mystery. The coyness of it all. The no commitment, no explanation and no complications. No attachments and no drama was all that attracted me to him.</div><br /><div align="justify">Its been many years now since I saw him last. I wondered if we will meet again?</div><br /><div align="justify"></div><br /><div align="justify"></div>diosahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00918790077184936159noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6152695693238331032.post-57232383969564787892010-11-07T08:59:00.000-08:002010-11-07T11:43:38.883-08:00White Horse<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLJc-8s5PeD_IDTnroAbqslqD89MUZz5i6aeXCNEI2HbDpkAR6RB56aMZQXQJeQczLiQIRRzxMfflHb-ZoSaWRerx7UT2fHLqBbJP4YEKHW1udnn7Fllmg8NQtQ8-dw7PN0xGti8Msg_Q4/s1600/white+horse.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 266px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5536895726300380546" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLJc-8s5PeD_IDTnroAbqslqD89MUZz5i6aeXCNEI2HbDpkAR6RB56aMZQXQJeQczLiQIRRzxMfflHb-ZoSaWRerx7UT2fHLqBbJP4YEKHW1udnn7Fllmg8NQtQ8-dw7PN0xGti8Msg_Q4/s400/white+horse.jpg" /></a><br /><div align="justify">Who could ever forget their first love? Like most of you, I also thought that my first love is my knight in shinning armor who will sweep me off my feet and carried me into his castle and live happily ever after.... wrong! He is that one person who thought that I am too young to fall in love. He said he wanted to take care and nurture me. Wait until I am mature enough to be really sure that I am ready for a relationship. Unfortunately, he couldn't wait and fell in love with someone else. Still, I followed him like a puppy dog. Too in love to realize that he is just not going to see me as young lady but a young friend who has a crush.</div><br /><div align="justify">Eventually, I too gave up on him and met someone. My relationship was moving smoothly and slowly until he kissed me. I don't know why but I started crying. Not sure why but I told my knight what happen and it made him so mad. Hit a table with his fist. Confused, I asked him why? He thought that it was suppose to be him. He thought it would be him who will give me my first kiss. So sorry but its too late now.</div><br /><div align="justify">After so many years, we finally met up again. Thought he still looked the same. His megawatts smile and dimples still make me weak in the knees. Do not remember the circumstances why we met up but the mood suddenly changed for me. I felt like that young girl again in love with a more mature guy. Nervous and tense we talked about the old days. Perhaps he thought that would get the tension subside. Finally, he asked me how I was. I said I was fine. Busy with school. Its just rude not to ask him how he is, so I did. His eyes suddenly looked sad. He finally said that he thinks of me a lot. In fact, he thinks of me a lot that when in a very intimate situation with a girl, he uttered my name that shocked even him. He said he wanted me. Me who he considered too young for him. Words I wanted to hear.</div><br /><div align="justify">But I am so sorry. I am not anymore that young girl in love with her knight in shining armor. I don't believe in being sweep off my feet and carried into his castle anymore. Its too late for you and your white horse.</div><br /><div align="justify"></div><br /><div align="justify"></div>diosahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00918790077184936159noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6152695693238331032.post-39776997438544380472010-11-07T07:20:00.000-08:002010-11-07T08:41:42.052-08:00Speak Now!<div align="justify">Yes this is entitled the same as the Taylor Swift new album. I think its really appropriate to call it as such since her songs inspire me to write this blog. She said that her album is basically about speaking out! Its like in almost all weddings where the priest asks, if anyone who objects that this couple should be married... speak now or forever holds his peace!<br />I dont really know Taylor Swift or her life but she sounded like more adult than I imagine a 20 year olds are. Her songs are full of emotions and feelings that stir up really deep emotions from me. All the inhibitions and confusions I experienced during my younger years came up in the surface. Now I don't know what to do with them except express them and hopefully make sense specially to me.<br />As I listen to each songs, I realized I compare them to each relationships I had and never had. It creeps me out slightly that her words are not exactly different when I was in her situation at that time. Sometimes songs made me cry with the words she express. Don't get me wrong... not all of her songs are about breakups and heartaches. There are a few that is just happy ending and getting ready for a change.<br />Please bear with me as I will explain each song in my next few blogs. I have to admit, this will be my most daring blog ever... since I will be revealing relationships and feelings that I don't usually talk about to other people. And that even all my close friends don't know everything. People involved might be nervious about this but let me assure them that I will not name names. Even if I use names... it will be alias. I don't want to be sued.<br />Let me also clear out that not all the songs I will be blogging about is on her new album Speak Now! Most of them are from her 2 other old albums...</div>diosahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00918790077184936159noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6152695693238331032.post-35743434423073945752010-09-22T07:06:00.001-07:002011-01-21T05:21:26.697-08:00What's in a name<div align="justify">Different people call me by many different names and I grew up having many different alias. I guess in different stages of my growing up years, I re-invent myself and thus change my name. But there are also alias that stick with me through the years. Let us review all of them so people understands how I have come to be with many names.</div><br /><br /><div align="justify">I was born Diosa. It means a goddess or a female god, in case you don't know. A very unusual name for a person. Girls usually gets to be Aprodite, Venus, Athena or Hera but not diosa. Many times I asked my mom why she named me as such. Sometimes she murmurs an answer, sometimes she would just brush me of. No concrete answer. And don't let me start with my dad. He does not know squat! But I think it was my uncle, my mom's eldest brother who gave me that name. And since he is not in this world anymore, I will never know why he gave me that name.</div><br /><br /><div align="justify">As a Filipino tradition, my name became baby, nene or ineng since I am the youngest child. But my uncle, another of my mom's brothers have his own tradition of inventing nicknames to whomever he happens to like at that time. Don't ask me where he got those names and reasons why he does that but it is always the family's way in introducing the new kid to him. In a sense, it felt important once you got baptized by his crazy nicknames. A name totally opposite or even ridiculous than your original name. Mine happen to be "Osang". </div><br /><br /><div align="justify">My family got used to calling me "baby" until I started high school. I got tired being called "baby" since I am not a baby anymore, well atleast I don't consider myself that. Out of the blue, the name Joy come up. I don't know where that came from but that's another name I added to my ever growing list of nicknames. But in school... its a different story. You know how it is during teenage years. There in the middle of feeling of rebelliousness and independence, I think I developed a different personality and thus re-invent myself again and came up with the name Jho. During those years, it was very popular adding "h" to your name like, Dhel, Rhey, Lhiza or Mhel. Though a different spelling I naturally got Jho, short for Diosa. Later on, the family picked up on that nickname and so that started the name JHO.</div><br /><div align="justify"></div><br /><div align="justify">In college, during another metamorphosis, I learned to love my "real" name. It started when boys started noticing me and vice versa. They first noticed my unusual name that led to many quotes, poems and tales. They use this to profess their admiration and honorable intentions which got my attention. </div><div align="justify"> </div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify">Now my family calls me Jho which I think is better than calling me Baby, which I must say pops up occasionally from cousins. Joy, I think faded away as unnoticed as it came. But my all time favorite is Osang Makutate. As unique and as Tagalog as my real name. There is only one person who still and will be the only person who calls me that. I never asked him why that name. I never asked him where he got it from. Osang sounds to me like "bakya" name but a sexy one too or is it because a sexy actress was named as such. Come to think of it, during that time that actress was still unknown. So how I wonder why he called me that! I will never know... I wish I had asked him.</div><div align="justify">- A tribute to Amang... I miss you!</div>diosahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00918790077184936159noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6152695693238331032.post-86072506260282229632010-08-11T08:48:00.000-07:002010-08-11T09:30:59.869-07:00Once Upon a Time<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiihIY02qz3ED9IvvOV0_5xl-T0Dve9Ot6ryOwGKea5KIJUlh-3uWVZeen8hSElRHB2QdXzRVBvqEBjn38mBzj8BqpK2liI5xPrMwh1wh126mwG3TTAMY7qsjV8I581vG-fQAtZFo4UOoOW/s1600/with+lola+inay+(2).jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 215px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 285px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5504187180490770898" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiihIY02qz3ED9IvvOV0_5xl-T0Dve9Ot6ryOwGKea5KIJUlh-3uWVZeen8hSElRHB2QdXzRVBvqEBjn38mBzj8BqpK2liI5xPrMwh1wh126mwG3TTAMY7qsjV8I581vG-fQAtZFo4UOoOW/s400/with+lola+inay+(2).jpg" /></a><br /><div align="justify"><strong>As we reached the end of a long and narrow street, I started a fit! My eyes squinted, mouth pouted with arms crossed. He would not stop at anything right now for me to have time to pick something I want. We are standing at the busy sidewalk under the morning sun. He looked at his watch and decided we are late anyway. He threw his hand in the air in sweet surrender as I smiled to him and reminded myself to give him a long nice hug later. Happily, I followed him stopping every so often to picked up something that caught my eyes. Yellow mainly, some red and others are pink. Some are big but a lot are small. As we reached our destination, he picked me up in his strong arms. I gave him the biggest hug my short arms can give. Buried my little fingers in his thick curly black hair. I kissed him on the cheeks before putting me down on the ground. I pushed the small swinging door on the side of the long counter. The door was almost as high as my shoulders. I looked around wondering what kind I will get today. As I scan up the long counter where glass jars are line up filled with colorful goodies inside them. </strong></div><br /><div align="justify"><strong>I noticed she is standing by the entrance smilling. Her hair pulled back in a bun at the top of her head. I reached for her hand and touched it on my forehead. She murmers a blessing as she placed them on top of my head. I looked back hoping he is still there. A slight sadness on my face, I see his face inside the crowded jeepney and waved. She then scoop me up and sat me at a very old but sturdy table. It has a lot of scratches on top and sides of the table. It felt really rough under where I was sitting. I ran my fingers on my side feeling the chipped top of the table. My feet tangling. There are only 2 small drawers. One contains old rusty tools, screws and matches. The other has old coins, loose change and old bills. As I was sitted, my little fingers could feel the dust under me but I don't mind at all. I showed her what I collected for her that day. They would looked ordinary to anyone but they are treasures for me. She smiled. She reached for an empty softdrink bottle by the sink and lets me stick my flowers in them. Placed the bottle with my picked flowers for the day behind me on the table. She gave me a kiss on the forehead and lets me jump off holding both my small hand. She grabs one glass jar by the counter and lets me dig inside it and picked the first of my many treats of the day. Caramel stick, my favorite! She started softly chattering... <em>batang eloy... batang eloy... batang eloy</em>. I ran towards the back door of the store. Happy for my treat. As I climbed up the stairs, I could already hear them and thought we are trully late. But I don't mind. I got my flowers and I got my treat. What more could I ask for? Now its play time with my cousins!</strong></div><br /><div align="justify">A bit of memory I remember during my childhood. I think I was about 3 or 4 at that time. My dad would drop me off at my grandparents' house. Since babysitters during those days were the grandparents, my cousins and I were often dropped off there. The old house will be crowded with all of us there playing. I guess that is why I am very close to my cousins. We literally grew up together. I miss my grandma...</div>diosahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00918790077184936159noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6152695693238331032.post-61327732453542619682010-07-30T13:07:00.000-07:002010-07-30T13:58:43.056-07:00Carolina : The Movie Review<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqJDb34Y-ipkGdn7FYYVn-VTQvXjcOdEG-Zgfi8CvGQxbXjVFiggztqj2FfZ5r8o4GgvNinr8csGSvYWvfvObtYV1igGzC1S6EIcFPljKw-dFxHdbQT54SR6GWRLyzfgCuAG-1dpvHTHzC/s1600/julia_stiles%5B1%5D.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 224px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 256px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5499806581773760018" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqJDb34Y-ipkGdn7FYYVn-VTQvXjcOdEG-Zgfi8CvGQxbXjVFiggztqj2FfZ5r8o4GgvNinr8csGSvYWvfvObtYV1igGzC1S6EIcFPljKw-dFxHdbQT54SR6GWRLyzfgCuAG-1dpvHTHzC/s320/julia_stiles%5B1%5D.jpg" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpsrIikIkho_Kw5Yv05uDgoen7KAyPdRu_URffQr9apAgl7RlwzG8S5g1XUEBVnKtJ-188qg7-CfIhyphenhyphenyNVqDczLe9aK3IXhb3byHrsnKBJT5-Ht7XMDWwvtaNRC2mOlYoIvlK8S7gjFlqK/s1600/CIMG1170.JPG"></a>I got up early today because my husband is working early. Naturally, I had to get up when he is in the shower to prepare his breakfast and pack his lunch. This is usually our routine when I am on vacation and he had to work early. By the time he is finished dressing up, my breakfast for him is served. Complete with toasted bread or oatmeal, it depends on his mood and of course his coffee. He used to not like coffee and just lets me drink them He said I drink a lot of them for the both of us. But now, he is used to having them in the morning.As soon as he steps out of our apartment, I had this urgent thought of going back to bed and savour the empty bed for myself but instead, I sat up in bed, switch on the laptop and tv in one swift motion and waited. The computer took longer than the tv to come on so I browse the channels looking for shows that I thought is interesting. Bummer, no good movie is on at this early. Most are news or early morning talk shows. I flipped through the remote control like a maniac until I come to a movie channel. I can't really remember what channel it was but the actress caught my attention. Julia Stiles. I love her. She has this look about her face that I have always love. The girl-next-door attitude and style. I first saw her in 10 Things I hate About You where she played the lead role. I was enchanted with her there but not so much as I saw Mona Lisa Smile. She was brilliant in Mona Lisa plus the fact that Julia Roberts was one of the character. I thought she handled herself very well inspite of the all-star cast of the movie.<br /><br /><div align="justify">So we come now to the movie. Carolina. She played the main character. A young woman trying to find herself and her love inspite of all the drama going on around her and her family. It was just a simple movie perhaps even a low budgeted one but I thought it was a great one. It tells mostly about Carolina (who is Julia Stiles, obviously) and her relationship with her family particularly her grandmother and of course the boy next door. It shows how family supports each other inspite of all the differences and issues. How simple life can be and that we complicates things with our never ending need to search for fulfillment. And that one person we are looking for, the right guy, the perfect guy... is just literally the boy next door! What I love the most about this movie is when that guy finally decided to tell Carolina that she is the one... he handed her a manuscript. She thought it was one of his books (a romance books) written under an assumed name. But as he pointed out to her his real name under the title "Everyday Magic", a smile crept up her lips. And as she turn the page, it says For Carolina. She looked confused... stunned... and almost smile a bit. That was it for me. I was really hooked by Julia's charm. I just love her! Its a must movie for those who love real romance, not the cheap ones. It is a must see for those who likes simple, light hearted but completely deep family movie. Because this is about family, a need to find oneself and the ultimate search for your one true love. Enjoy!</div><br /><br /><div align="justify">My suggestion to all you folks out there, try to watch one of her movies. I have a list for you that you might want to check out.</div><br /><br /><div align="justify"></div><br /><br /><div align="justify">1. Mona Lisa Smile</div><br /><br /><div align="justify">2. The Bourne Ultimatum (She is in all 3 of them but I like her character more on the last one)</div><br /><br /><div align="justify">3. A Little Trip To Heaven</div><br /><br /><div align="justify">4. 10 Things I Hate About You</div><br /><br /><div align="justify">5. Save The Last Dance</div><br /><br /><div align="justify">6. Down To You</div><br /><br /><div align="justify">7. A Guy Thing</div><br /><br /><div align="justify">8. The Prince And Me</div><br /><br /><div align="justify"></div><br /><br /><div align="justify">And of course</div><br /><br /><div align="justify"></div><br /><br /><div align="justify">9. Carolina</div><br /><br /><div align="justify"></div><br /><br /><div align="justify">And I read somewhere that she is also appearing as a guest in Dexter, the cable series. I wonder how she'll look in a dark murder series like this one.<br /></div><a href="http://www.facebook.com/photo.php?pid=3242964&op=1&view=all&subj=412574256651&aid=-1&auser=0&oid=412574256651&id=530643301"></a></div>diosahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00918790077184936159noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6152695693238331032.post-74144582876051604852010-07-27T11:20:00.000-07:002010-07-30T13:53:06.744-07:00Morality Compass<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg93jmarN9Fs6DDbR_BqzcgPRqwt61GdS3ilU-BKakrPIVeJu4hxdCGyzpORxW6G0Mv9aRdJ2chSlXtkSTUezb7eLv89ynCd3Wn2P4S0-8OGJpT0BUelhIBUX-Hdj85bb3OFuWZ4lGPQbDl/s1600/Blue+hills.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5499805174417087458" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg93jmarN9Fs6DDbR_BqzcgPRqwt61GdS3ilU-BKakrPIVeJu4hxdCGyzpORxW6G0Mv9aRdJ2chSlXtkSTUezb7eLv89ynCd3Wn2P4S0-8OGJpT0BUelhIBUX-Hdj85bb3OFuWZ4lGPQbDl/s320/Blue+hills.jpg" /></a><br /><div align="justify">No body can say that they have high standard when it comes to their morality. I myself cannot say I am the moral one. I am not a saint nor I have the intention to be one but I have also my own standard when it comes to morality. I guess each of us have their own standard and that there is also the standard for the standard morality if you catch my drift. Let me give you one great example... as human beings we believe that killing another person is bad. Whether you are a Christian, Jew, Buddist or any other religion killing is against our human nature. Now that's what I call the morality norm. Lets go to a little controversial one... gays and lesbians should be allowed to legally marry their partners. Now that would make you wonder and reflect on the issue. Is it morally correct? Personally, I believe they have the right to be legally married as all other human beings have. It doesn't matter who they are in love with but what matters is that they love one another enough to promise each other they will be together forever. Right? Some people may or may not agree with me on this matter and thats where we draw the line. Each person has their own opinion on this topic based on their religious belief or just plain "morality compass".</div><br /><div align="justify">Morality compass is where you search your feelings. You know how a compass always points to the North? Comparing that, its like your morality compass is always pointing you to the right direction. Is this right or wrong? Do I trully believe that I can live with this decision I am going to make? Its not about religion. It is about how you feel. Will I hurt someone for making that particular decision? Will I be able to inspire other people to do good things? Am I stepping on other peoples' dreams to get what I want? Those are just a few questions that you must ask yourself if you want to find your morality compass. If you do things against the standard norm but still believes that you are right. If you can live with that decisions without feeling uncomfortable or guilty. When you don't care how others feel in the things that you do. You don't care if you hurt someone in the process of getting what you want in life. And you don't care about others but yourself. Then it means you have no morality compass at all.</div><br /><div align="justify">Believe it or not, there are people like that in this world. I have met a few who doesn't even know that they are without morality compass. How did they become like that? I trully dont know. But somehow I symphatize with them. For one thing they don't have any feelings at all. In everything they do, its just like a robot. They do everything automatically. They sing the song but they don't know the meaning of the words. They dance step by step to the music but they don't know how to sway to the tune. They eat food but they don't know the taste. They pick up the flowers but not bother smelling them. They draw the picture without color in them. Its like blank pages of a book. What kind of life is that? A life lacking the essense. I pity them. They don't know the value of family. They don't know the meaning of friendship. And they don't know the feeling of being loved and be loved by a person.</div><br /><div align="justify">How about you? Do you have a morality compass?</div>diosahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00918790077184936159noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6152695693238331032.post-91596688192888272652010-07-23T10:11:00.000-07:002010-07-30T13:51:11.952-07:00Paranoia<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiI7QD64KKerXuvughDm1CeE7wOmhyphenhyphennkcVmJDOtmHKIqpbFl0M_o-C2cp-Nwl31MCaD3w7MxTpbYPKYdJhQTs33AThWGmQI4WBJAF4k1tlb3G7T_XhneTpPWQDUCB_tmRukDkbYVJbBicYm/s1600/loi+fone+pic+1+003.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5499804657215031650" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiI7QD64KKerXuvughDm1CeE7wOmhyphenhyphennkcVmJDOtmHKIqpbFl0M_o-C2cp-Nwl31MCaD3w7MxTpbYPKYdJhQTs33AThWGmQI4WBJAF4k1tlb3G7T_XhneTpPWQDUCB_tmRukDkbYVJbBicYm/s320/loi+fone+pic+1+003.jpg" /></a><br /><div align="justify">Darn I got another junk email! I hate it when people send me junk emails. But this time its not exactly junk as I opened it. Everyday I probably receive ten to fifteen junk emails on top of all the ads from site I've visited and the regular emails I receive from family, friends and job placement agencies, membership sites and a dozen more. So basically I receive 50 to 80 emails a day... the reason why I always check my mail box everyday. Just imagine how many I will accumulate just missing one day of not checking my mail box! And so my routine goes... check my mail box in the morning and atleast once again in the evening before going to bed. Why am I complaining? It should not have to be this way but those junk mails made my life a little difficult. Ok? First of all, I don't mind getting a short email like just saying Hi or hello from friends esp. my family but getting those news about a new finding about smoking or warning about the food we eat, its just making me so paranoid! I got this email from a friend (don't worry I will not names here) telling me about the fresh fruits and vegetables we eat now a days. They have chemicals in them that are used by farmers which are potentially harmful to us. I understand the concern here, don't get me wrong but the truth is... if we follow all this precaustions, we won't have anything to eat which is really bad, you know what I am getting here right? I don't mind emailing me about certain electronics gadgets could cause cancer but telling me that a simple celphone, microwave or a wide screen tv can do that to a person... well, I am mortified! I have to admit, sometimes it could make sense but what are we going to do? This is part of our technology and progress in this world. Does these mean we are not to use any of those gadgets to keep us safe? Do we have to resort to planting our own vegetable and fruit gardens to be able to avoid those chemicals? I get it that we are just trying to be careful and prevent the spread of cancer and other diseases. But we are not helping our progression if we do. Why can't anyone just use technology to help cure cancer or other diseases instead of planting this insane paranoia in everyone? Promote the eating of fruits that is good for you like Guavano. Eat more green leafy vegetables. Ocra some says is very good in curing simple stomach problems. So, I can do away with those junk emails that could only make me paranoid in everything I love to do or eat. Send me those that makes me feel better and no chain emails either!</div>diosahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00918790077184936159noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6152695693238331032.post-7622248362250017232010-07-02T15:32:00.000-07:002010-07-09T13:27:24.905-07:00Cooking up Filipino<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMykjRwv5Okujh_wY-7GEAQAeNUUf9XDq3ifEuWM0p13LxtbXo1Mdg9xsq-JfUD5LLT3Gkd8GQVAdvaYHxQA459ZuKi_R_bDAVzHXqzzgsx3wcRr6gw5QjP1fSe2WmCzaq8TXlNXvYoj0b/s1600/CIMG1136.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5492005743800216642" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMykjRwv5Okujh_wY-7GEAQAeNUUf9XDq3ifEuWM0p13LxtbXo1Mdg9xsq-JfUD5LLT3Gkd8GQVAdvaYHxQA459ZuKi_R_bDAVzHXqzzgsx3wcRr6gw5QjP1fSe2WmCzaq8TXlNXvYoj0b/s320/CIMG1136.JPG" /></a><br /><div align="justify">After years of living abroad, I still feel the great pull of home. I feel it in my guts and every fiber of my being longed for that sweet smell of hot pandesal in the break of dawn. The soothing sound of chicken crow in the morning. And the smell of my dad's coffee in the kitchen mixed with the smell of his cigarette. As I watched Anthony Bourdain in one episode where he chooses Philippines in his next travel, it made me wonder what to expect on this episode. Will I be familiar with what kind of foods he is going to eat and will I be familiar to the places he is going to visit? Attentively I watched skeptical of the tour guide he is going to meet. I was praying that it would be someone who is much more in-touch with his Filipino heritage than those who are as unfamiliar with the type of food to present. But lucky, the tour guide was a very educated and obviously not only very familiar with our type of food but had grasp of the history of how it came to be as well. Which makes me wonder of my own familiarity. I just know adobo either pork or chicken and thats about it. It turns out, each of our region has their own way of cooking adobo. Whether its chicken, pork or even seafood adobo. "As long as you know the basic ingredients of an adobo, you can do just about anything with it," says the tour guide. Which is exactly true, when you look at it closely. I have to honestly admit, am a novice when it comes to cooking. I think my mom had that one regret when I first got married, admitted to the bunch of our guest that she never taught me to be a cook (or perhaps domesticated is her polite words). And that Loi should forgive me if I don't fit the "housewife" he expect me to be. That's my mom! Taking the blame for not making me a person I am suppose to be. But let me assure her right now that after those long years (I should say very long years) I started to learn how to cook and loved it in a way. For one thing, I have to thank my husband for that since he made it easy for me. Never pressuring me into doing things I would regret later specifically about cooking. I know his mom is a great cook, she is Kapampangan and I don't have any aspiration to compete with her but atleast have the decency to cook for him a meal or two. I started with simple fried dishes. Fried rice which are not bad at all but the fried fish is a disaster. Suffice to say, I am done with frying. Thankfully, my husband would eat anything in support to my ever need to please him with my cooking. I learned through trial and error then I moved up to a little more complicated ones. Pasta like spaghetti, lasagna and of course my ever famous carbonara. Its a long shot to being a great cook but I am trying my best. My efforts is always rewarded by praises from my husband and friends. But since living abroad, I have tried making Filipino dishes just because I have longed desired to eat home cooked meals. Thus we come to the show Anthony Bourdain. The question that seems to linger in my mind (and Anthony's) is that where does the Filipino taste originated. We have diffirent region who interprets their own versions of adobo. Chicken. Pork. Shrimp. And even vegetables. The answer is that it depends on where you are at the time. We have seven thousand island, we have different ways to interpret, answers and sees ideas. We are regionalistic first before being nationalistic. For example, one is a Kapampangan first then a Filipino second. Which is understandable being a clutter of small islands. But that does not mean we are a Filipino less. So we are back to the same question, where does the Filipino taste originated? I believe it is originated to all the occupation years from the Spaniards which lasted for five hundred years. The Americans who later gave us our independence. The Japanese and Chinese who gave us the Asian flavor of spices. And everyone else who found Philippines as a good place to retire and find their own secret paradise in the almost untouched remote islands. So how do we define the Filipino taste? For me, it is the pride, warmth and love the cook put into every meal served, wherever a Filipino may be.</div>diosahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00918790077184936159noreply@blogger.com1