I am a girl who likes lists. I also like planning. The end of the year gives me both. The illusion that things will change because I choose to, the hope that I will be able to.

2013 was a banner year in good and bad. I believe that it has been a crazy, inspired, heartbreaking, lovely, devastating, 364 days so far, and I have become a different person because of it. Decisions I’ve made and the decisions of people around me have molded me into something else than the person I was before it. I’m still a little broken, a little guarded. I have issues that if I’m not careful, I’ll carry with me forever.

I have also learned to smile more, to laugh more loudly. I have experienced the happiness of so many simple things. Of just being. Of a heart that is so big that you feel overwhelmed by the sheer goodness of it. Of hands so open to others, you’d think it’s insane.

I am facing 2014 with a heart that’s new. The battered, bruised, scarred clump of muscle reborn. Ready.

My list to accomplish this 2014 is strangely simple. I want to stay happy. That’s it. How I’m going to do that, is a little more complicated. But I sure as heck will try my best.

And I am happy to have the best people around me to do it.

Thanks and goodbye 2013. It was nice to know you. Don’t come back okay?

And honestly, as they said about that “You can’t come home again.” It kind of felt like that.

And that’s not a bad thing.

Last night, I went to my old department’s Christmas party, after being absent from shindigs, get togethers and the like for about 4-odd years. Things have changed significantly. I’m incredibly proud to say that a lot of my friends have moved up and to better things. People have found love, people have lost the same. We’re all different people from the Marketing of my past, and it was good.

I don’t think I’m explaining this how I want to.

I guess all I’m trying to say is, that I’m happy I got to go. Be with the friends that I’ve loved since I stepped through those doors in 2007. Drink (and not to the point of needing to get dragged away from the joint). Make inappropriate jokes. Hug the people I’ve missed like crazy. I might not have socialized enough to my liking because I am old and get tired at 9 pm, but I’m glad I still had these people in my life.

So far, this Christmas is looking good.

Thank you.

 

 

From when I heard it to now, to every single day:

 

I am not the most religious of people. To be perfectly honest, I go to mass because my mother wants me to. While I cannot profess a close and loving relationship to God, I love my mother, and if me going to mass makes her happy, I’ll go to mass. I’ll attend the processions, pray the rosaries, and partake in Holy Week traditions while other people my age are off to the beach or out of the country because we hardly get vacations that long in the span of a year.

I started and finished my education in Catholic schools. I pray at night on my own. When there are things that I am extra thankful for, or when things are rough, I open conversations with God, hoping for guidance, and maybe just a little help or just professing gratitude.

I have to admit sometimes that it’s hard. Sitting there listening to things that I do not agree with. Mutely absorbing things that I feel very strongly against, and not confronting the person spouting all these opinions to an audience that will take him at his word because of his job. Sometimes, priests make it really hard for me to be a Catholic.

Today was one of those days.

You see this man:

with his holy water and shiny white robe told us in his sermon today that God brought Yolanda upon us because of the passing of the RH Bill.

Yes. He attributed the biggest storm ever to hit land in the Philippines to lawmakers signing a bill allowing people to take control of their reproductive health.

He told us that this was God telling us that we were sinners and that He is still God and to stop sinning, to stop living a life of sin.

I was fuming. On two fronts. The first because I am a staunch believer in reproductive health. Life is precious, sacred, and should be taken care of. If you can’t feed a child, or are not ready for one, I believe you, as a responsible, logical adult should take steps to make sure you don’t make one. That means being protected against diseases as well, and making sure your health, when you are ready, is fit for taking care of the baby, or giving birth to it when the time comes.

The RH Bill will prevent children being malnourished, or having to resort to desperate measures to feed themselves, or being left alone to die of hunger while their parents, who were unfit to have them in the first place, free to make more because they didn’t have the means to have their tubes tied, or just have basic birth control.

But I digress.

I was extra angry in behalf of the people in the provinces trying to rebuild their lives, the people flying in all over the world trying to help them, and those far away from the front lines but are still trying their best to make sure that the provinces stricken by this typhoon have lives to get back to.

While here we were in mass, in an airconditioned room, in a mall, cushy, comfortable, and know where our next meal was going to be, here was a man of God, blaming a bill for the disastrous events of November 8, 2013 that have changed millions of lives in our country.

It was extra difficult to be a Catholic today. And I do believe that God up there didn’t sic this storm on the country to “punish us for our sinfulness”, and I wouldn’t even begin to try and understand why this happened.

However, in my mind, the God that I believe in isn’t a vindictive, petty god that wanted to “teach us a lesson” that day.

I love the God that I know, and that wasn’t Him.

As a sometime girl, I truly understand the power of retail therapy, and the happiness of finding the perfect shoes to go with the dress you’ve had in your closet for ages but can’t seem to wear. How pretty prints seem even prettier when you try them on and they actually look good on you.

However, as a fairly bulky girl, and a year round tan in my late 20s, I know my limitations. So please stop me should I attempt to wear the following:

1. High waisted shorts:

With an ample booty and womanly thighs, these reincarnation of mom jeans will only make me look like I gave birth three times over. And cutoffs, really? I’m 27. Cutoffs with strings hanging down from them should have an age limit if you’re not 5’11 and 125lbs.

2. Drop crotch pants:

As a 90s kid, these still resonate as hammer pants. And no, I can’t and I won’t touch those.

3. Cropped tops:

Because it’s been a decade since I’ve had a flat stomach. My muffin top will stay inside its lining thankyouverymuch.

 

4. Heeled sneakers:

One, they’re expensive (this one costs $89.97). Two, they’re wedges (I am not a fan of wedges). Three, they’re sneakers you can’t run in. Four, these need sky high legs to pull them off. They’re pretty, but thanks, no thanks.

5. Fringe

While fringe has been here since the 1920s and actually can be very classy, I would feel too much like a broom.

 

6. Clogs

Pricey bakya. Nuff said.

7. Rompers

Nevermind that they’d be hard to pull off, but for a person that constantly needs to pee, this would be a nightmare.

 

To be fair, the fashion trends I’ve posted look amazing on people that can pull them off. I think with enough panache, confidence, and an IDGAF attitude, people can pretty much wear anything and have it look good. But I myself am 27 and have worn crazy trends the past decades that I’ve come to regret when flipping through albums, and don’t have the patience to suck my gut in for four hours, etc, etc.

Not really a “problem”, but we’ve all been pretty laden with heavy stuff these past two weeks, and figure, a post about something light can’t hurt. Here’s to fashion that looks good, and me knowing when to stop.

But then again, I am a glitter girl, so when I pile on the sparkle, just avert your eyes.

 

 

 

 

 

Life is difficult. Everyone has their battles, their own struggles that they have to survive every single day. While some obstacles are harder than others, comparing your pain to other people is difficult and a waste of time and emotion. Don’t belittle other people’s problems because you think yours are bigger, or belittle your own pain because you think theirs is more important.

Pain helps. It reminds us that we’re still human. It makes us appreciate the joy when it comes in. It helps us grow to be stronger people. However, for me, the length of emotional pain we choose to go under is at some point a choice.

People deal with loss, grief, depression, and all other forms of pain in their own way. Some choose alcohol. Some food. Some through tears. Others denial. As different people, with different support systems and perspectives, we have our own coping mechanisms to get through it.

But when is it dealing with pain and when is it wallowing? When do we say stop, and realize that it’s doing us no good to focus on the bad and move on to the good?

What I think is, when you decide it is.

It’s a personal choice. When to stop. When to move on. When to choose getting up in the morning and going to work, or just staying in bed crying.

I read somewhere that Arthur Conan Doyle said, “We can’t control our love, but we can command our actions” which I think is where I’m going with this. Our feelings may not be our own, shit happens and our hearts choose the most unfortunate of people to fall for. We hate the things that should help us succeed. We don’t feel connected to God, which is a frustrating, debilitating feeling for those who want desperately to be.

So what am I trying to say? I guess that I know I can tap into pain and suffering anytime I want, and wallow in missed opportunities, life choices and decisions that have maybe put me off the path I was supposed to, but today, I’m choosing to not wallow. Thanking my lucky stars I’m still here and able to even write this. For all the happiness that I’ve encountered when I’ve tried to wallow. For all I’ve learned with all the punches life has thrown me. For life. For love.

I’m choosing the good today. And maybe that’s enough for now.

In Stephen Chobsky’s The Perks of Being a Wallflower, there is a quote that says: “We accept the love we think we deserve.” And if you know me personally, you’ve probably heard this from me once or twice.

I believe that nobody picks the person they fall in love with, it just happens. Whether it’s right, illegal, painful, or perfect, the feelings we get for a person is not a choice. The initial spark, the incredible chemisty, connections we have with people, whether they’re appropriate, just happen.

But I think what we choose to do with these feelings are a choice.

Do you continue loving a person that abuses your love, who breaks your trust?

Do you pursue someone already committed to someone else if they don’t exactly reject you?

Love is not a choice, but everything else is.

What you do with your feelings, what you choose to accept from the person you love, you can’t blame anyone else for it, because it was your decision.

You chose to go into a relationship because you’ve never felt this way before, even if you know that this will ultimately cause you problems with your family.

You chose to go into a “relationship” with a married man, because he’s told you that you’re the love of his life, but will not leave his wife for you because he’s scared that she might take away his kids.

That is your choice.

We choose the people we see everyday, who we talk to, who we spend our precious free time with, with what we think we deserve.

So my question today for you, my dear reader: Do you think you deserve the love you have today?

The beginning of October, I headed to Davao for a short vacation. It was to say, interesting, with how much small details went awry.

First, after being reassured by a friend who was from Davao that their cab drivers were honest, we were taken for a long detour and asked for an extra P50 by the cab driver outside the airport.

Then we spent around more than an hour trying to find the right ferry to get to the part of Samal Island where our resort was.

An hour after we got to our resort, the power went our for a few hours, so even when we were feeling sick (got colds and a slight fever), we sat on a cabana beachside.

Relaxing in the cabana, we felt good. Even ordered shakes that we reassured them that we would wait for (since they couldn’t make them coz blenders were out of commission), it was fun, the beach air, pillows, the crash of the waves rocking us to sleep.

Then a storm started, which we were going to wait out, but the winds got too crazy that the cabanas were getting scary and glasses were getting knocked down, so we went back to our room, which, after a couple hours, got power back.

All these things could have ruined the vacation for us, but we decided to make the most of it. Instead of being tourists, we decided to make it an actual vacation and take the time to just relax, which I can tend to forget when I’m in a new place, wanting to just absorb everything and go “tourist”. This vacation was actually a good way to unwind after weeks of training, and a good way to prep for the busy season at my job.

I even got the time to try a new sport, wakeboarding, which was stressful, crazy, but hecka fun. I can’t wait to get better at it (hopefully).

My only frustration was, I didn’t get to experience durian at its hometown in the Philippines, but trust me, I’ll be back.

Davao, I will taste your sweet, stinky fruit, mark my words. 🙂

But really, it was a weekend well spent. Amazingly relaxing, but not the boonies, that I actually felt like I could move there.

More weekends should be spent as serene as that one.

Being in my late twenties, recently uprooted from the path I thought my life was taking, I have been thinking about success. Growing up, we were all conditioned to think that success at this point in our lives is making a lot of money, starting a family, and having fun doing it.

But does being successful in one side of your life and not the others automatically equal to failure? Does work-a significant other to share it with = being a loser? Or does being totally happy with your relationship but hating every single moment of your working life mean that as a person, you’ve failed singularly?

Too often, it happens that one part of your life is utterly amazing, but the others, just kind of meh. We take the bad with the good. We tell ourselves that while we trudge along, taking what we can, that “this is the real world” or “welcome to life”.

Or is it?

Do we need to swallow bitter pills with every bolt of happiness? Or can we do both? And does it really happen? Do you, right now, know anyone who is ultimately happy with the life they’re living? Forget the petty, small annoyances of everyday living like traffic or the smelly guy next to you on the train, but life as a whole.

Do you think you’re successful? Are you on the path towards success? Or are you just taking the crap because you have an ounce of joy on another dimension of your existence?

I do realize that this entry is asking more than explaining anything, but I really do want to get the input of my 11 readers.

How do you define success? Are you successful?

These past few months, I have been so many things. I have been happy. I have been broken. I have been healing. I have been so busy I forgot what month it was. So tired that I fell asleep standing up.

The above picture is one that chronicles what I did on one of my last sojourns for the year, and one of my favorites. One where I just read, ate, relaxed, and kicked back. Should be a tradition: Take a vacation and basically do nothing.

But I digress. People have asked me how I am so many times in the past months and I’ve given so many answers to so many people because it changed so often.

Now, when you ask me what I am, how I am, I’m just going to say, happy.

And isn’t that what we’re all hoping to be?

Adulthood can suck the happiness out of everything, and responsibilities can drain you until you don’t know who you are anymore.

I would like to admit to growing up (a little) and sometimes forgetting the bigger picture, but right now, let me just reassure you, I am happy. No ifs, ands, or buts.