Magnitude

Since I start writing again might as well do a back to back.

“Before you do something, anything, remember to think twice, thrice... seven times before you actually do it.”

Some words of wisdom my dad would repeatedly tell us whenever one of us or us-collectively is in trouble. I cannot stress how many times my dad has used this spiel and how much he would keep on saying it over and over and over again as long as youre on the hot seat. The hot seat, that’s how we usually refer to it when someone is in trouble and dad calls you to have ‘a word’ with you. Usually, it’s with my brothers, one of them, but! since I am (like how I’ve stressed sooo many times!!!) one of the boys, I am usually a victim of the collective “talk”. Forced to sit with them through it just cos someone did something, and I’ve heard the whole caboodle! All sorts of talks from no-drugs, you sneaked out you got busted, no-preggos, youre too young to get married and you cant support a family yet... to the stupidest one like looking ala dennis rodman with the blond hair to pulling an allnighter on the phone when u know u have school. Ah! The perks of having kuyas around!

I know Im no perfect, I may seem like an angel growing up next to (dare)devils but I also had an era which I just trashed what dad used to tell us and lived life without thinking or rethinking anything. It was problie around the time dad passed, see growing up with a strict, strict father who are backed by spies err my kuyas, was just really tough! So can you blame me? If dad was Marcos my mom was the complete opposite, and so naturally it was like Martial Law to "i trust u anak". I did everything and anything for no reason or for d stupidest reasons. I went on a try-all-u-can spree. I allowed myself to be dared, pressured, forced, and do things just for fun; if not I was the one on the other side daring, pushing, pressuring, forcing, or showing the fun. Those were good times for sure, I look back at it I dont regret anything (!!!). It’s something I think most of us go through, we test limits, our personal, and even moral limits.

It was fun and memorable, the things I did, things I tried, dares I pulled.

But today, I go back to what my dad said. You have to keep on pushing yourself to keep on thinking, and rethinking and rethinking and then do it all over again and again and again. And these days especially because of the nightmare that happened last Monday. I wonder at night and always go back to the incident, and it’s just draining to feel sad, anger, hurt, pain, fear, rage, and lots of other stuffs and then do it over and over again. I keep thinking to myself, had M followed what dad used to say perhaps things would be different.

If only he thought to himself that life is not just about one profession, that perhaps he couldve just let go of his case and concentrated on opening up a business, exploring other job opportunities. A bodyguard perhaps, or maybe even public office?
If only he thought about just staying at home and how Mondays are always a good day for noontime TV especially with showtime always getting new guest judges or soaps are continued with the cliffhangers they left on Friday.
If only he thought that social networking sites or youtube is the best and easiest way to be popular and a good opportunity to be heard. Had he been on twitter he couldve twitted the president, had uploaded on utube he couldve landed a role and forget being a cop altogether.
Or if only someone taught him such “techy”niques instead of coming up with the 3pm deadlock deadline.
Or if he only thought about his own life, his own family, his own family name, how they will have to live with that stigma; to be associated with him and then later on be looking for a job, will build a family, will go abroad...
Or if he only thought about PNP, how controversies are just piling up one after the other people just don’t seem to know what to make of them anymore; how he is, WAS a part of them that there’s probably men out there, his colleagues, subordinates, bosses, kumpares who are out there...
Or if he only thought about our fresh and construction on-going government, how its barely standing, barely able to figure out how to pick up the pieces from previous tenants, rebuilding our nation, and just seem to be working to be a fresh sign of CHANGE for everyone these days...
Or if he only thought about the Pinoys- OFWS and immigrants who are from where his victims were, how they are struggling to make a mark at the place where they are to help family, to ease unemployment problems in our country, hardworking individuals yet sometimes considered part of the disadvantaged 2nd or at times even 3rd, 4th class citizens...
Or if only he thought about our country, how we are always just lined with corruption and terrorism, how we are more than what and how we are perceived globally yet never seem to catch a good break...
Or if he only thought about the lives of the people he would take down with him on that bus, their families- parents, kids, wives, girlfriends, boyfriends, grandparents, grandchildren, friends, and everyone waiting for them to go back happy and safe from a trip. How they are just innocent, happy troopers who woke up early that day, chose what to wear, problie had a free breakfast buffets, and have packed luggages exploding with shopping loots; that these were people who actually chose our country and entrusted us of their tourist money, and of their lives. Also a side note, their ocean park is better yet they still traveled and paid to see ours...
Had he only thought about life. that it is not ours to take. not something to toy with. not something to treat carelessly, not always how it seems, not always easy, not always bad, not always good, not always how we want it, yet always something that can be made into something... something to be contented with, or something we accept it to be.

I watched that day only to find myself playing the tragic scenes over and over again yet even worse that what was on TV cos then I always think to myself the this and that had M listened to my dad and thought about his actions.

The magnitude of this event is just too much I cannot bear it anymore.

Yet I always go back to another realization that in more ways than one we are all connected to the personalities of the event. Each one of us probably knows a cop, has a Chinese?HKer friend, has been on tour... to HK or elsewhere, has business partners at HK, has family who is a high ranking government official, and the list could go on. All of us who witnessed, watched through the event we are all touched by the tragedy; so in ways we all feel the same, a little bit of what I feel perhaps you feel as well, and a little bit of what you feel I’m sure I feel it just the same.

He was from HK, and it was also a rainy day. Perhaps this is why... I do not like the rain anymore.

Blue Balloon

It’s been awhile since I last wrote something, anything... personal that is. Perhaps cos the last ‘events’ in my life has been too painful, too painful that a little part of me was just willing to forget it to pretend it never happened... perhaps in order to allow myself to move on or even have a chance at moving on, scratch that, to moving forward.

Ive come to terms with myself and I told myself I will destroy the bad, bad memories and make them as bleak as possible and to just hang on to the good ones. The good, good feelings, the surprises, the unexpecteds and everything to sugarcoat everything, atleast in my memory. Don’t get me wrong...I still hope... that one day I will be able to drive to the beach, let go of a balloon and just cry it all out and finally say goodbye. But I told myself that the balloon must contain a lot of things I want to tell him because literally it shall be my release. I havent done it cos like what I said I havent been writing lately and Ive been forcing myself to just think of the good ones. But one day I will...

100 days and not celebrating

One of his korean friends told me, that koreans, instead of our way of the 40 days after someone’s passing on, they do it after 100 days.

A hundred days…

The longest time we didnt talk since I knew him was 2 months… rough months. And now… it’s been more than that.

I still cry… I dont think that will ever stop. I cry when I’m alone, when I’m in the shower… or somewhere no one can see me… or hear me. And today, as if someone up there knows I’ve been trying to keep it together for awhile now, that I will breakdown today, today I am left alone at home. I cry alone… not because I dont want everyone around me when I do… I cry alone cos when I do… I cry… with sobs… I wail… I call for him. It’s ironic how I would usually pacify a crying child… I usually just brush off crying and tell them to say bye-bye tears. I wish I could tell that myself sometimes… those crying times. Cos when I start… it’s always hard to stop.

I miss him terribly… just read a friend’s reply telling me to just talk to him. It’s probably something I would have told someone after I lost dad, keep on talking to them cos theyre around. And now… how come it feels so sad… knowing he’s around but I cant talk to him, that I can’t hear him, that I cant even find out how he is. It’s not as comforting as how I thought it be.

I go on everyday asking… why did he leave me. They say it best… u dont get over that lonely feeling, u just get used to it.

I dont think I have fully realized everything, that he’s gone… and everyday is a painful reminder, a painful realization that he is. It’s like being awake to a nightmare, only to realize it is a nightmare. I wake up everyday with a reminder of you, of what I lost, and what it feels like loosing you.

They say everything happens for a reason, that our life comes in full circle. How come I feel so lost. There’s a lot of uncertainties… but more than the uncertainties… it’s the feeling of til when. Til when will I be wandering around uncertain. How long til I know the reason behind this, if there is such.

No more pains. That, I always keep on mind. He’s no longer bound by the physical restrictions of this life. There’s no cancer in heaven.

I want you to be happy… that’s the only reason I go on everyday. I dont want u to keep on being hurt, just cos im hurting. I dont want u to feel pain just cause im in pain. And no matter how selfish I am wanting u near, I dont want u to not move on just cos im holding on.

I’m scared… the song asks, “would u know my name, if I saw u in heaven?”. If there’s one request from me before you go, please, please, please, dont forget me even in heaven.

Everyone just please say a prayer or two for Mark today.

S3cr3t k33p3r… REALLY NOW?!

I got an itch. Something that has to do with telling someone something, but obviously I can’t. … I stumbled upon some INTERESTING news-ish secret-ish ISH recently… and dang! Now that I know it… I dont know if I really did want to know about it… or maybe it shouldve remain a secret.

Thing is, maybe I am talking about things now since it does not directly involve me. Well to be honest, I’m no major role player in this ish. To be honest, if this was a maalala mo kaya episode, I dont think I’d even deserve to have a character in the story. Wahahaha.

But see I’m a gurl… and gurls are expected to be inquisitive. Eeerrr intregeras! Wahahahaha

I take a look at my very colorful life and as I think about it I realize… I happen to have a handful of secrets. To be fair, I think I have kept mum about a handful of them. BUT!!! To be honest, really I think the secrets remain secrets BECAUSE I FORGET ABOUT THEM.! SO IT JUST MEANS that when I do remember the secret, I tend to blurt it out right away. Hahahaha. Like someone who had amnesia getting their memory back for the first time. Wahahaha. On the other hand, u know when the secret is so fresh, I tend to be restless about it. And so! I do squeal about the secret. BUT! I squeal about them in different sets of friends. Let’s say a HS barkada tells me something, I tend to share it to my college barkada, get it? Wahahaha. So really, I dont keep the secret.

Here’s the point of this… I just recently found out a secret. And ive been constantly surrounded by peeps from the group I should keep the secret from and IT’S HAAARRRDDDD!!!!

I hope I forget about this already. I wish I forget about it already. I wish I wish I wish!!! Secret don’t follow me!

MAY 9, 2004 (if you have time, please read this)

Was the day that Mark and I officially (how showbiz) got together. I remember to this day the feeling, it was a very, very good day. Such wonderful feelings. … one of the best days of this lifetime. It was one of those days when the cheesiest of all the cheesiness was following me around. I remember butterflies everywhere, in my stomach, around me, in my thoughts, and in my dreams. Such good feelings and such good memories of being (ready?… ) INLOVE!

Admittedly, I have stopped retelling people of everything that’s been going on. After the first year, the first break up… after sharing to everybody all the firsts. I just felt that our love story was losing its flo and it was time for me to shut up about it. It was starting to be a relationship, with all the twists and turns, and all the hoolabaloos.

Amidst all the fights and all the drama, we are still together. (with or without all the break-ups in between) He is my person. Now, then, and ever since…

I know this may come out of the blue but I am again sharing because I will ask all of you a favor or two. Just recently, I found out that he, my person--- Mark, has cancer. Colon cancer. For a while I have been trying to brave through everything with just our family’s support. Just like in the case when it was with dad, I find it hard to confide in everybody about serious, sensitive matters like this. If you know me, you’d know that I believe so much in that notion of baka maudlot. I guess I kept on putting that on my head and that had made me to just really stop talking… and now I realize, ano ba ang mauudlot?.

It took me a lot of strength to confide in my family, about him and about everything. And it is taking me that same strength now to put everything in words. Yet, I am a person of our generation and I do believe in the power of internet. And of prayers. And so I am asking everyone, close to me and him, and everyone else who will come across my page, to please pray for Mark and his recovery. Consider me an american idol ala jasmine trias asking all filipinos and everyone else to vote for her to be the idol. But this is a little different, there’s no text votes or anything, I am just asking for a little time each day that you include him in your prayers.

In times like this, I know that not everyone could not be with us, but I do believe that through all your prayers, you all make your presences FELT. Thank you very much everyone.

2212 Friends

No matter how drunk, wasted, all sweaty and danced out or anything else, we clean up. Whether it’s a house party or we’re crashing someone’s room, count on my friends to practice CLAY GO- Clean As You Go. It’s as if we were raised living on American fast food, imagine drunk gurls cleaning up after their mess, picking up every bottle, can, or cap, and even the suka-supots to stack them in the nearest garbage.

We are each others’ boyfriends. We all went to an exclusive, ALL-GIRL, CATHOLIC school. So you can just imagine that for the longest time we had each others’ backs. We look out for each other, we were all inseparable. We can stay all day together at school, talk on the phone afterwards, and then to top it all spend weekends together.



We all understand each other’s body language and will GET what each LOOK means. Down to the . or !

We are all GROWING up with each other. Growing not just physically or in numbers, but age-ing all together. We don’t constantly need to be around each other, but we know that no matter what time zones (whether in Manila or out… of Manila… or out there somewhere?!) we are all in each other’s radars for times of comforts and companionship.



We all GO together. The only question is when, what time (what country and who’s time are we following?) , and we’re there. We may not all jump on the cliff but count on all of us to be there before, during, and, after the fall.

We are each other’s assassinator. What did he do? What do you want us to do about it? Where does he hang out? Is this his car? Is that the girl?.. And more importantly, is that his place?

We have our own support group. Ok, is that him? … do you love him? Does he make you happy? Do we see that he makes you happy?… Ok fine, welcome to the family. BUT! Is that him?! Do you love him?.. Hmm… Does he make you happy? … Uh-huh… Do WE see that HE MAKES you happy?… Ahhh… ok until when do we have to put up with this?

There’s only 2 ways we know how to go about a problem… Eat? Drink? Or all of the above? :D



We won’t back down on a dare. Butchi anyone? Blowing bubbles? Fries on the stage? Birthday corner (!!!)

We’re very sorry but if you happen to catch a movie and you see us there, for your own sake, please try to understand that it will be best for you to catch the next screening. Please consider this a warning.

We are each other’s pimp! That skirt is too short, that blouse appears too sweet, your make-up should be bonggang bongga! OR! Do you have the number? O anong problema? … May girlfriend ba?… Ah ganon ba... Eh girlfriend lang pala di pa kasal! Ha-ha.

Conspiracy theory is a term custom-made for us. Huh? Do I know them? Do I know you? Are you talking to me? Nasan ako?!

If we had it our way, we all would have been married to ball players... that is if loyalty and stalkerbility counts as wifeable material to them.

We are each other’s Confucius. Wisdom was not only of a junior year’s section but it’s something that we take seriously... Seriously, you’re eating too much. Seriously, you’re not eating. Seriously, it’s time you look into a mirror, let’s go shopping!

We put life on the words Smile for picture.

Stories are never repetitive, cos every chikka session elicits a whole new round of stories and laughter. Remember G double O D good? How about our science-lab-turned-classroom-days? Or what about Super blag? K Kids? Or who was that kid that pooped in his pants and thus the infamous nickname?

Count on our own families (as in our moms, dads, brothers, and sisters) to know all of us by face and sometimes (if your lucky) by names. And if you catch them on a good day, you always get the question… tan dan dan dan… Do you have a boyfriend na?



A spat is a spat is a spat.. And just like a red SSSSPAT of a pen on a clean sheet of paper, you can always just fix it with a liquid paper (it may come in brush strokes or tape form). Or if you shake it like a polaroid picture, it will eventually go away and a beautiful picture will eventually be where it should be. A groups of friends all growing together and still finding each other amid life’s hang-ups.



We all share fond childhood, ICAM memories together. Batibot? The numerous chaperoned, wholesome excursions… and the infamous, meeting/ lova-palooza at the back of the classroom with our respective young love sweetheart partners.



We come in groups and we battle in troops. May it be an ex-boyfriend/ ex-fling/ ex-boilette slash the enemy war. Or a life-altering this-is-what-life’s-all-about event, we are there. Maybe lately less in numbers, but in spirit, we are there like gamo-gamos around a bright light bulb on a hot summer night.



Once you’re in, you can never can go out! Take a pick JF2? GASP? Or GM (wherever they may be)?

baking 101

It’s been a loong while since I last baked. Back at NY I used to bake in the winter nights because the heat from the oven was always something to look forward to when it’s snowing and breezy outside. I also had my two eager nieces then, jules and nina, to cheer me on and to “help” me, no matter what the outcome will be. But even then, we always just use to bake those batters from the grocery. You see here, there’s about a handful of those ready to bake batters. From brownies, to croissants, to biscuits, and ofcourse the ever so famous cookie dough. It seems like in here, everything is just ready and baking really meant that you have an oven at home.

Back at home, I used to bake when I have the blues. Baking and shoe shopping has always been a cure to chase those blues away. And since im anticipating a good thanksgiving sale this year, I am holding on to my shopping sprees and just settled to bake tonight.

And now! I have not been baking because a) I dont have my eager pamangkins here who will for sure be great fans of whatever I come up with. (Heck! Sometimes even with just the batter alone they are fine with that already!) b) I dont have my PG friends, who will always love me and my cookies no matter what and! c) I dont have LIINNNAAA here, so that means I do the baking and the cleaning up afterwards. Yep, all three put together, it’s all a no, no, and no thank you!

But since, I think WORK, family, and all those personal craps calls for it, I decided to use up the remaining of my weekend to bake just cause I dont want to do things I might regret later on… like buying something I dont need (ha! What did u think!)

Now, my horoscope said I should try something that’s unknown to me because then they will not turn out to be… drumroll please, known! (onga naman!) And so, taking inspiration from that, I tried on a new recipe. I decided on triple chocolate muffins! You see the hardest part about baking for me is the waiting part. Nevermind that we dint have an electric beater and that the hand beater that I used bailed out on me midway through the whole mixing process… what’s really the hardest part is those 15 or so minutes that you wait for the oven to do the miracle on your masterpiece.

So here goes batch 1.

Well I told you already, Jam kept on calling them brownies. I personally think (which ate ting agrees on) they looked like a ghetto version of kababayans.

Well batch 2 is a lil bit better, maybe because I dressed them up this time.

Don’t be fooled. It’s good! Hahaha ofcourse, id say that!

for the 1st time

I was sitting with Boogie today waiting for my brother’s 5:50 train. As I pulled on an empty spot I instantly spotted an anxious family as if wanting to pickup someone from an airport. Daddy leading the trail, seemingly very, very eager, mommy in tow, and then the front seat girls. All of them looking like a happy family, excited to see someone. For a while, they were off my eyes as they walked near the train tracks and I sat with Boogie. Like usual, as soon as I hear the train from afar I rush to get a closer spot near the track.

That’s when I instantly spotted the family again, all looking like restless dogs eager to get their treat. They were a nice sight in the midst of rushing yuppies and corporate peoples. And there I was thinking, they sure are excited because I was betting on them picking up someone from the San Diego train and it wasn’t there yet! But sure enough, Daddy started pointing from the other side. I follow their line of sight immediately to a gap on the train with people pouring out. I got it wrong, maybe they are waiting for someone from the same train as my brother. Daddy still being the leader that he was was in front of the pack, checking on schedules, looking around, walking around. He was very excited, very eager. They did divide and conquer, mommy went for the stairs, the sisters stayed looking on to the other side, and daddy in the middle as if getting ready for their mystery pick up person to appear from anywhere.

I missed to spot my brother as I was busy watching the family. And soon enough, their mystery pickup person appear from the crowd going the stairs. He was not hard to miss as you see his cheering squad from downstairs all beaming happy, waving proudly at him. I see a boy, looking like my brother, clad in office clothes, nothing special yet unique because of his loving family. I see their dad staying where he was standing as everyone rushed to greet the not-so-mystery pickup person. Mommy and sisters gave him hugs all gushing on him like he was a movie star (I double checked, no he’s not). And dad acting cool for a while (so typical, as if he wasn’t as excited as everyone!!!) and then gave him a hug and that nice father-son pat. Something I’ve always witness my dad do to my brothers.

My brother walked in in the middle of me being mesmerized with the family, with their daddy most especially. My kuya asks me who was there I reply no one I know as I wipe off a tear and zone back to life.

Amidst my long story, I realize right then and there one thing. I was jealous. For the first time in my adult life I realize something is missing in my life. Something I outright feel bad over not having. It’s not something tangible, not something attainable, not a toy, not a treat, not anything. I felt jealous, and I felt bad over not having a dad. Over not having MY dad.

Damn I miss my dad, so much.

SUMMER 08

I went with the flow and was bullied into watching a concert feeling half baked over it. Why? 1. I really dint like the guy that much, 2. Tickets seemed a bit overprice for him.

BUT!

I was surprise as soon as the lights were off and out came this guy…



HE WAS HOT. And F’in-ly AWESOME. He played the whole night switching between A LOT (well I really couldnt keep up with how many exactly) of guitars and oh! Singing also ofcourse!



Except for that little detail that he makes those really disturbing facial expressions the whole time he was playing, he was really, surprisingly AMAZING! He was a rock star and I dint even know it til then. I mean yeah I liked him after his first album, but he always just struck me as the guy you play on your car when your on the road but you dont really CRASH on him.

Well I dint go home that night CRASHING on him… well almost, especially on the part he took his top off and showed his bad ass body with matching tattoos!

I dint know he was A BAD BOY! Ha-ha!


And then...

I went to see this guy.



DAMN. I. Was. Disappointed. Except for rocking an all white outfit and his first few songs, then that’s it.



I went home boo-hooed! ONE WORD MAROON 5… Nothing Lasts Forever!!!

9/11

Things I miss.. SO MUCH!

1. I miss our AH di da tax tora days.
***Translation: it’s our way of soliciting piso coins from my dad before he leaves the house for work. Imagine me and my brother clad in our jammies following my dad from out of his room to the garage and just singing that. My dad was a tax guy so go figure why we used that term.
2. I miss it when someone gets the BIG talk. Or AKA, it’s when someone’s in trouble, and no matter what happens, dad almost always finds out right away no matter how big or small it is. And no matter how hard you try on pretending to be sleeping or busy with “school work” as soon as you hear dad’s car at the garage you better pray SMB is playing so you won’t get a whole night of TALK. And if you happen to be downstairs still and dad already “SUMMONED” the person in trouble, you better be running for your dear unless you want to have the extended version of the talk.
3. I miss our Sunday jollibee bfasts.
4. I miss going to church with the whole family.
5. I miss seeing my mom glow every after the peace be with you part because he gets a kiss and we dont!
6. I miss seeing mom happy because of just your presence.
7. I miss having to defend a month’s allowance and extracurricular fees just because your an accountant.
8. I miss how you tap your lap every after we pray the rosary and we sing Give Thanks.
9. I miss fighting over the sports section of the paper every morning.
10. I miss curfews and strict overly protected rules.
11. I miss our usual current events conversations because I learn A LOT MORE about it from you than anyone else.
12. I miss celebrating our birthdays together.
13. I miss all of your out of the blue pasalubongs that are well thought of and customized for each and every person in the family. All 12 of us, you get our type and likes to the last detail.
14. I miss your superly organized closet next to mom’s overflowing one.
15. I miss having a hard time going out or asking permission if I can or can not go.
16. I miss monitored and prescreened phone calls.
17. I miss watching PBA by your side.
18. I miss having ice cream for dessert just cos everyone’s at home or SMB won a game!
19. I miss getting a compliment over an aced exam… BEST EVER.
20. I miss family time, getting together to have a talk, to know what’s going on, to find out what the family is going through. To find solutions to have everything out in the open, just because we are a family.
21. I miss the thought that youre around and you always have the solutions and the answers.
22. I miss seeing you waiting at home after a nightout and til everyone’s safely at home.
23. I miss our annual christmas family portraits with everybody, with you most especially.
24. I miss spending christmas, birthdays, graduations, and all other occasions with you around.

9/11 will always be a marked date in everyone’s calendars because of the whole twin towers fiasco. But in my family, it will always be a big day for us because it is our daddy’s birthday.

We miss you dad dearly, now more than ever as we are going through some bumps on the road. I ask, like always, that everyone pray for my dad. And please, please, skip a