Heath, dead at 28

I first saw him in 10 Things I Hate About You. He gave that teen movie some oomph, some character. At 19, he had such intensity and depth. When I saw Brokeback Mountain, I admired him even more. He gave such a powerful and riveting performance in that movie. And now, Heath Ledger is dead. Reports say he OD'd on sleeping pills. It's depressing when things like this happen. What a waste. He was such a talented actor.

on cruise control

I know when I’m in a rut when I spend five straight hours just looking at the blank computer screen and spend another six hours googling and still come up with absolutely nothing to write about. The title above does not in any way bamboozle you to think that this article is about you-know-who, a.k.a that guy who jumped up and down Oprah’s couch without regard for the upholstery and the creepy guy declaring his undying love for Scientology in a Youtube video. This article is actually about the fact that I’m in a deep rut. Yeah, as in majorly deep.

You know when you’re in a rut when you do the exact same things you did the day before and the day before the day before. Don’t worry, that’s not a typo error, it’s just me trying to make a point. “I’m in a rut” is another way of saying “I need to go out more often”. These days, “going out” for me means wearing “mom shorts” (shorts with minimal leg exposure) to buy my groceries. At this point in my life, I just don’t see the point of partying, or of primping up to drink coffee at some wi-fi ready café when I can go to the kitchen and drink all the coffee I want until I get palpitations.

But see, there’s a downside to my anti-social behavior. I realize now that because of my hermit-like existence, I’ve pushed myself to the point of ultimate boredom. I’m not experiencing enough variety, change, and excitement in my life, and for a writer, this could be very dangerous (unless I decide to write the obituaries). For a blogger, this could result in blank pages and skipped entry dates. And for a single woman, it’s tantamount to joining the nunnery (although that would probably be a better option than marrying some imbecile guy – check out my column last week). Thank God I’m married, but as for being a writer and a blogger, I think that at this point, I’ll probably be needing more than just a bottle of vodka and a medical degree (a la Chekhov) to take me out of this writing rut. I think I need to get myself a “life”.

How does one get a life? Here are a few suggestions for people who, like me, find themselves driving on cruise control. If you’re bored with eating hot pandesal for breakfast with your coffee, go for day-old bread, dump the decaf and go barako. If you’re a fashion victim and your 4-inch stilettos are giving you hematomas, who says you can’t go barefoot? Tired of driving to work and looking for parking? Take the jeep, a pedicab, or hitchhike. If you hate Friendster because you think it’s the work of the devil but all your friends seem to love it, hell, create a MySpace account and find new friends. If you’re spending too much time online (like I am), I advise you to shut down that computer now and go out into the real world where real people live.

There are of course, a thousand more we can do to escape from the rut that we’re in. But the first step to freedom is acknowledging that we have a “rut problem”. The next step is of course to find ways to “exterminate” the problem (there is nothing punny about bad puns!). Now if that involves adding some cheese to your salami sandwich, go ahead. Just get a life!

-- the above article was written for my column. I'm posting it here because I'm too exhausted to write anything new -- hey, I'm in a rut, remember?

a new face

Nope, not for myself but for this blog. Although I wouldn't mind having natalie portman's face or maybe jennifer connelly's -- or maybe this face:

this is my mother, Joanah at 22
and today is her 69th birthday!
Happy Birthday, Mama!

Yahoo! I don't know if it's just me but I think my blog looks much, much better! More space on the right for nifty widgets such as the new one I have there where you can write anything you want (er, anything of the GP / PG variety, that is). I think the colors are great and easy on the eyes. The layout is also absolutely fantastic, very clean, very put together.

So readers, you're not lost. This is my old blog, only prettier.

a weekly thing

I mentioned a few entries back that I've resumed my weekly column at The News Today. To those who want to read more of my writings, just visit our 24/7 online version at www.thenewstoday.info or just make life easy for yourself and click on the link above. Once you're already in the site and you want to read my article for the week, just scroll down and you will see my beautiful photo beside my column name "serendipity". If you want to read my old articles, just go to the Archives. If you want to comment, go to the Guestbook but be sure you write something nice or else. Sometimes when I'm at a loss for words (yes, that's actually possible) or if I'm particularly inspired by a blog entry, I sort of recycle it and it becomes my column article for the week for the newspaper. That's what you call multi-tasking or, okay, just plain laziness.

Lola Ex

I wanted to say "thank you, google" but, I realized that google would not have been possible if there was no internet and the world wide web. I thought that the internet is synonymous with the www but according to wikipedia, they're two separate entities. I'm no expert in these www mumbo-jumbo, but what I'm really thankful for is being able to write in this blog for all the world to see and read (never mind if currently I'm being read / viewed by approximately 9 people -- and that's including my 2 year old daughter).

There is, of course, a lot of guts and exhibitionism involved in blogging, 2 things that I have an endless supply of. Exhibitionistic or not, blogging is a cathartic experience, a way of purging, because, according to Aristotle, "it is the human soul that [needs] to be purged of all its excessive passions".

Going back, I'm thanking the internet, the www, and google for immortalizing my grandmother. My sister, Cecille, who lives in NJ told me the other day to google our Lola Exal. Lola Ex was a writer and I've always considered her as my greatest influence. She used to write these short poems for us and we'd memorize them and recite them over the local radio. I had such rich memories of Lola Ex. She was a rarity, a betel nut chewing-mystic who always had a fantastic (as in the genre, as well as the adjective) story to tell. She was also a playwright, specifically a comedia writer. An article that was published online had this to say about her: "Beyond this lifeline, Antique has another star in its literary history as it has in its fold the rarity of an established comedia authorship, that of Exaltacion Combong..."

I wish we were able to compile all her works, but unfortunately, when she died, not one of her writings was ever found. You can call it mysticism or stupidity, but until now, we're still looking for her works. How tragic is that? But on the upside, I'm glad that Antique has acknowledged her talent and her contribution to literature and the arts.

too tired to be profound

I had a long day today. I know I haven't blogged in days but I promise I'll write more tomorrow. But before my brain shuts down, I give you my Ripley...

Ripley: Mommy, I'm a fhag!
Me: What? You're a what?
Ripley: I'm a fhag, mommy!
Me: Oh my God, am I hearing this right? Fhag as in fag as in...
Ripley: Fhag! (appears agitated) Look, I'll show you mommy.
(Ripley then hops)
Me: Oh! You're a FROG!
(Ay, susmaryosep!)

the scarlet letters

Let me begin with an apology to Hawthorne for the title above. This has nothing to do with Nathaniel H's novel, of the same title (but in the singular form). This is not about the scarlet letter 'A' but about letters (as in love letters) that I came across today while looking for my birth certificate. One of the things I hate doing is rummaging through my old files because I know that I will unfailingly stumble upon an old love letter or two written not by my old boyfriends (although I have a few of those too) but rather, letters written by myself to old flames, ex-boyfriends, or secret crushes . Each time I come across these letters, I get goosebumps and I ask myself, "why, oh why, were you so stupid back then?"

And why the hell do I keep these letters around if it bothers me to see them? Well, I'm such a sentimental pack rat, that's what I am. I keep everything from old concert tickets, to chocolate wrappers given by boyfriends, to old Keno records (Oh my God, do I hear "I'm leaving yesterday behind" in the background?). It's just that each time I read these letters, I get transported to "the moment" when a particular love letter was written, and feel "the emotion" (usually pain and anger, I was full of existentialist angst back then) that I used to feel about the relationship or the person.

Today, I read an old letter that I never got to send to this guy from my lurid, sinful past. Let's not name names but, okay, we can call him "A-hole" with a capital "A" for the purpose of this blog entry. A-hole takes the trophy as the shittiest ex-boyfriend this side of the universe. They say time heals all wounds, but in this case, I say, killing him with my bare hands will heal all wounds. I haven't forgiven that git. If I see him now, I won't be responsible for my actions.

I think it's time I junk these old letters. They make me remember the past and mostly not with fondness but with regret and pain. (Oh, the pain!) The only good thing though about the past is that it reaffirms God's love for me. In this case, God must really love me to have spared me the crap that I would have gone through if I ended up with that gutless git. But then again, I would still kill him with my bare hands...

the uncoy mistress

a cautionary tale for wives who trust too much

Mrs. X: I left my husband.
Me: What?! Why?
Mrs. X: He was cheating on me.
Me: What?! How did that happen? I mean, are you sure he was cheating on you?
Mrs. X: I'm sure. His mistress called me.
Me: What?!
Mrs. X: She told me she had things to say to me.
Me: What?! The gall! No mistress calls her lover's wife. Unless she has a death wish.

And so goes my conversation with Mrs. X, a good friend of mine who found out too late that her imbecile husband has been cheating on her for a year prior to the above verbal exchange (where I said too many “whats” and not enough “I-feel-for-yous”).

When Mrs. X recounted her one-on-one with the mistress, I was torn between laughter and tears. The mistress, let's call her Miss Anna Banana or Miss B., for short, is a human aberration. I can be blatantly crude and cruel here as I am talking about somebody who should be accorded no respect whatsoever. I don't want to be judgmental. I don't usually condemn people because of the choices they make, but I make an exemption here as Miss B. has broken all possible rules on mistress etiquette (if there is such a thing). She. Crossed. The. Line.

She wanted to hasten the ugly process (discovery - confrontation - separation, in that order), I surmise, thus the phone call. She set an appointment with Mrs. X and told my friend that she “couldn't take the situation any longer”. Yes, you read it right. Miss B., with all the effrontery of a shameless hussy (er, because that’s what she is) calls the poor, unsuspecting wife of her lover and complains to her that she was having a hard time being the other woman and that the extra-marital affair was taking a toll on her life. She also suggested to Mrs. X to let Mr. X a.k.a. Imbecile Husband (IH) choose between the two of them. We know how it goes, the typical “her or me” scenario. Now, if it were a song, the lyrics would be sung by the wife, not the mistress. Remember Miss Saigon?

But Mrs. X, democratic as she is, and also probably a little loopy from the shock of talking to her husband’s mistress, acquiesced. As surrealistic as this sounds, there they were, Mrs. X, Miss Anna Banana, and IH over cups of stale coffee in a confrontation worthy of Jerry Springer.

Miss B. asks IH to choose, IH looks at both women and shakes his head. “I can’t.” He says. “I can’t choose between the two of you.” Banana bawls, wailing, cursing and screaming like a mad cow on its way to the slaughter house. She gets a teaspoon and hammers IH's head with it. “But you promised! How could you not choose me?!” and then bellows like a banshee. My friend, Mrs. X, wanted to puke at the atrocious scene before her. Her husband, his mistress, the whole "her or me" fiasco, the cheating, images of Banana and her husband in a secret tryst, ten years of marriage down the drain, and most of all the pain. The pain, the pain. It was too much to bear. Mrs. X stands up and calmly says, “I'll leave the two of you to your squabble. Apparently, you have issues to settle. Goodbye.” And she leaves. And I applaud her. I told her that she did the right thing. Instead of joining in the Springer buffet of bad behavior (i.e. teaspoon-hammering, hair-pulling, hitting, and cursing), she chose the dignified way by simply walking out. What would most of us do when faced with a similar situation?

Truthfully, I don't condemn Miss B. for being what she is, a mistress. But I abhor her for being such a brazen and stupid mistress. She should have known her place. Before she went into a torrid affair with somebody else's husband, she should have known the repercussions of her actions. I know Mrs. X. Her only fault was that she trusted too much. She is also a hardworking, dedicated, and loving mother and wife. IH is a bastard, a chronic womanizer, and a lowlife. He deserves more than just a divorce or an annulment. He deserves to be Lorena Bobbitted at the very least.

I don't want to go on a tirade about why men cheat. I just want to tell this story to wives out there who trust too much and for mistresses who are thinking of crossing the line. To wives, let us not be too complacent or trusting, although the latter is a quality to be commended. Men are weak by nature, and could easily succumb to temptation. Mistresses, a word of advice: remember that there should always be a sense of propriety even in the most inappropriate situation.

And to the cheating, imbecile husbands reading this, never promise your mistresses that you'd choose them over your wives or you'll end up with more than just a teaspoon-sized bump on your heads.

it's a rainy monday morning

I woke up at 3 am and had trouble going back to sleep. It's past 6 in the morning and I'm still awake. It's raining now and this would have been the best time to snuggle in bed under a thick blanket but instead I'm up and about. I guess I'm just apprehensive, as hubby and I are having major adjustments in our daily schedules (work related, obviously). Let's just say that this year will definitely prove to be both interesting and exciting. So many new things are happening and I know all our sacrifices will eventually pay off. My 5 year-5 step plan is already at work and I can hear the wheels of our lives turning in the right direction.

back to where it all began

Oh gosh, everytime I tell grade school classmates that I'm married to Brends, their reactions run the gamut from complete shock, amazement, amusement, confusion, to utter disbelief. Believe me, I myself, never thought I'd marry this nerd but I did. So here are photos of us last month during the yearly Assumption Day Family Day. So much has changed, people! They had lots of food kiosks and rides (a ferris wheel, a carousel, etc., can you believe that?) aside from the usual horror and jail booths. I remember I had a fortune telling tent back in the days. How come I never predicted I'd end up with a classmate?

lovey dovey in AC. Me & hubby, reminiscing.

Zak & his friends. Just like us back in the days...


Ripley loved the carousel

this family photo would have been perfect if
my daughter was in a better mood.

does this mean i'm a grown-up?

I had a parent-teacher conference today. Actually it was one parent against 2 teachers. Hubby couldn't come because of work, which meant I was outnumbered, but I managed to hold my own, thank you very much. You see, before Zak had his Christmas vacation, I had a major psychotic episode involving one of his teachers. I don't know whose fault it was exactly, but my son was not able to take his 3rd quarter exams because he came in 3 hours late. For some reason, we (meaning me, my hubby and the nanny) just assumed that since his class schedule was in the afternoon, he'd also be taking his exams at the usual time which was 12:30 pm. Huge mistake. Apparently, the whole school had an activity and moved all exams slated in the afternoon in the morning, hence, the reason for Zak's 3 hour delay. I'm an old girl myself , (those who graduate from Assumption are called "old girls" or "old boys") so I know what 3 hours of tardiness means -- NO MAKE UP EXAMS. I think it was different during our time, but now, this SOP is being enforced in Gestapo-like alacrity (a contradiction in terms, I know, but I think they derive great satisfaction when a kid misses an exam and when they tell you that they can't give any make up tests as per school policy). Regardless of what valid reason any child might have -- a broken leg, a pulled out tooth, 41 C temp, and other similar mishaps -- the "no make up exam" policy stays. That's just the way it is. No excuse. No exemptions.

Of course, this SOP did not go well with my 10 am coffee. I just had to call the teacher and explained why Zak was late. I said there was a reason why I enrolled my child in the afternoon class and not in the morning class. The incessant changing of schedule was making his circadian rhythm, his internal clock go cuckoo. Of course, my laments and rantings fell on deaf ears. "No make up exams, Mrs. Pijuan, it's school policy. Heil, Hitler!" So I cracked, I just broke down in tears angry and frustrated at why Zak couldn't take his tests. I screamed, I sobbed, I made a fool of myself. The teacher tried to calm me down. As a last recourse (and to stop me from making an even bigger fool of myself), she told me that they would deliberate on the matter along with the academic coordinator, etc., etc.

And so, the verdict was passed this afternoon. It went well I think. We all kissed and made up. Zak still can't take the test (the Gestapo wins!) but his grades will be adjusted accordingly. They'll only be computing 2/3 of his grades sans the 1/3 from his missed exam, so he'll pretty much retain his previous VS in Computer and Civics or maybe even get higher marks. (I think they were trying to appease me by giving Zak a higher VS in both subjects.)

Sometimes, we mothers have to put our foot down. And, it pays to be dramatic sometimes...

the demise of my trusty old friend

It's confirmed. My cellphone is officially dead. Kaput. It died in Boracay after 2 years or so of loyal service. I knew the prognosis was grim from the onset but I went to the repair shop today hoping for a miracle. What are the chances of my phone surviving after it decided to swim in the salty water of Boracay? I guess, nil. I'm depressed. 2 years worth of phone numbers, photos, videos, etc. -- gone. That's the thing with technology. One freak accident can make all your memories, your past, your present, your future, go poof! Just like that.

Lesson learned: have a back up by always writing your contact numbers. I should count my blessings though. The sim card survived but genius me did not save my contact numbers in the sim. Well, at least I can still use the same number. Another tip, if the same thing happens to your phone (i.e. your phone takes a dip sans bikini in sea water), the repair guy told me that I should have taken the battery out and rinsed the phone in mineral water. Yep, that's what he told me, as in rinse or douse, or whatever, to minimize salt water damage. And as soon as you get the chance, go straight to the repair shop. Duh, how the hell was I supposed to know that? I waited a week. Look at what happened. I'm actually grieving for all the contact numbers, photos and recordings that I lost not the phone per se. Enough said. I'm still on the denial stage of grieving. Acceptance will come soon...

serendipity

I think I've watched "Serendipity" a hundred times and each time, I get so pissed when I watch that scene where Kate and John meet again in the skating rink in Central Park (click on my You Tube video on the left). Why the hell is she dressed like a frumpy school teacher? What's with the baggy pants and blah long sleeved shirt? Hey, if you know you're meeting someone that you think might be the one, why will you wear that outfit? I know she's been running around looking for him all day, but jeez, she could have at least made an effort to dress up. That outfit just ruined everything for me. Really, a total deal breaker.

love in the time of cholera

I'm talking about the movie "The Painted Veil", not the book. I just watched this film and it depressed me. I like Edward Norton (except when he lost his mind and had an affair with Salma Hayek, what's the deal with that?). He is so appealing in a nerdy, aloof, sexy kind of way (I can't resist men with brains!). He produced "The Painted Veil", a movie based on the classic novel by W. Somerset Maugham.

It is s a love story set in the 1920s that tells the story of a young English couple, Walter, a middle class doctor / bacteriologist and Kitty, an upper-class woman. They get married for the wrong reasons (as we all are prone to do...) and relocate to Shanghai, China. There, Kitty falls in love with someone else (happens to people who get married for all the wrong reasons...). When he finds out about her affair, he volunteers for a job in a far-flung village in China ravaged by Cholera and takes Kitty along. That or an ugly divorce -- apparently, a fate worse than death (or Cholera) in the 1920s.

Their journey brings them together, and love blooms in the midst of disease and death (how romantic can this be?). This movie was beautifully made (in the genre of "The English Patient"). Love and relationships can be both tragic and meaningful. Norton and Naomi Watts absolutely glow!

Spring Fashion 2008

It's 2008 and I just wanted to share these fashion photos of my favorite Spring 2008 looks. Better be caught dead looking fab than drab...

Michael Kors -- glamorous!

Tuleh -- yummy orange

Diane Von Furstenberg -- love the colors!

hear ye! the year of the rat is here!

It's 2008 and it's my year! Yep, I'm a rat, never mind the year of my birth as it will betray my age, but yessiree, I'm a rat. according to the Chinese Zodiac, rats are smart, magnetic, well-liked, affable, quick-witted, surreptitious, selfish, protective, and calculating -- well, that's me alright!

I can sense it. I can smell it. I know that this year will bring me (and my husband who's also a rat) the best of luck. (2007 was just so-so... ok, it was bordering on utter desperation, but I survived!) So I'm looking forward to what this year will bring for us -- hopefully more cash and lots of good health and happiness!

Also, this year, I've decided not to have any New Year's resolutions. I was never good at keeping them anyway. I'll just do what I have to do, make things right from now on. I'm just so excited this year as I know that this will be the year that I take the 2nd step to my 5 step-5 year plan (which I will share with you when I'm on the 3rd step, so curb that curiosity). I know that there's still so much to do, but I'm working on them with all the strength, wit, and skill of a true-blue rat.

Before anything else though, I apologize for not blogging as often as I would have wanted to. I've been so busy with the new year preparations while trying to please everybody in our huge family (both mine and my hubby's). I ate 3 times last night in 3 households so can you imagine how stuffed I am! I had to do that just so I don't appear like I'm on a diet and you know how it is here in the P.I., we have to please everyone as not eating during these family gatherings is taboo. I think I gained 5 pounds just last night and add to that the extra weight I gained last Christmas eve and those in between!

I'll try to blog daily this year. It's so therapeutic, to be able to share one's thoughts, ideas, and the quirks of one's life to people who you know or may not even know. I did some tweaking on this blog, well, just a little bit, by changing the colors of the text, etc. It's blue now, or haven't you noticed? Also, I'm starting another blog but that will be revealed soon...

And so, I wish you all a happy new year! Praying that this year will bring all of us good health, wealth, love and happiness!