So, this is my life. And I want you to know that I am both happy and sad and I’m still trying to figure out how that could be. -The Perks of Being a Wallflower, Stephen Chbosky

I am quoting this book not because I am particularly enamored of it (not really), but somehow, that line sums up how I am right now, and there are just some things that some people have articulated better than you, even before you ever felt it.

I guess it’s part of growing up. Taking big steps in your life, and going through some things that you never thought you’d see yourself doing. I have to admit, I had a particularly difficult task at work this week that shook me. Not because it wasn’t the right thing to do (it was), but how it impacted how I looked at what it took to get there, and the realization that there wasn’t any going back. Due to the delicate nature of the issue, I will not expound any further but just know that it was one of the hardest things I’ve had to do, and it will stick with me for who knows what long.

I think what I’m trying to say is that I never thought I’d be growing up this way. When I was a kid, all I thought about jobs and the like were attending to people in banks and smiling at desks while you processed their money. My father had worked in a bank and this was all I knew about the workforce, and frankly it scared the heck out of me. I couldn’t imagine myself ever keeping up that cheery demeanor and counting other people’s money for the rest of my life, and to be honest, my math skills were (and still are) passable at best.

Then the world got up and changed the way the workforce looked and felt, and the options were endless for a girl that loved words, had no idea what job she wanted, and couldn’t dress up without the help of her mother and/or sister. I had a job at one of the country’s up and coming e-commerce companies and I was happy. It was the most exciting, homey environment I could imagine there would be in a workplace. I had friends, I was in the forefront of a changing industry, and I was learning things I never thought I would. However, circumstances forced that I leave the company for something I could manage better, and I decided to force my way out of my safe cocoon and plunge into something that was quite different and certainly new.

I began to work from home. It was a big adjustment, especially since anyone and everyone I talked to thought it was something that wasn’t a “real job” and were giving me flack about just wanting to pretend I was working, but was just watching television at home. I had to admit, it took a while for me to find a niche at my company. It took a strange mix of opportunities to get me where I am today, and for the first time ever, I am beginning to really grasp what it felt to really be good at what you were doing. Suffice to say, I am still learning facets of the work everyday, and with it comes a new challenge, but for once, I am willing to take it on to succeed, not just an individual but for the whole group.

Growing up. There are sacrifices you have to make, difficult things you have to go through, but it’s all part of getting there. It will never be easy peasy if you live in the real world, and if you do, you’re never perfectly content, happy, sad, or angry. What I’m learning now is that it’s a mix of all of it.

For now it is the weekend and I, for one, am raring to enjoy it.

All right, so I know what you’re probably thinking what a post entitled “Bicycle races are coming your way” is doing with a photo of someone (namely me) having a grand old time sitting on the edge of a stream.

Well, if you’re a friend you’ve probably heard me talk endlessly about biking. All the bruises and bumps I’ve collected from a sport I’ve been at for two months, or about my incredible burger bell (which has yet to be installed back on the handlebars of my bike) or the incredibly fun times I’ve had rolling around trails in the nearby mountains and fields.

But really, let me confess.

Mountain biking is not a zen sport. This is one of those rare moments where you have the chance to catch your breath and enjoy where you’ve gone. It is not something you do if you want to roll gently along and chill. It is a test of your physical strength, your agility, and your will to persevere. It is strenuous, dangerous and extremely exhausting. I have never felt more tired than I’ve been during these four to six hour intervals of pedaling, going through mud and rocks, and sometimes carrying your whole bike through a river to get to the other side.

It is not in any way glamorous. Prepare yourself to be muddier than you’ve ever been, sweatier than sitting in a sauna, and having your hair plastered to your head like a helmet. You will be tossed, turned and battered to a state where you’re almost unrecognizable to people you love. You will become five shades darker in a matter of hours from biking under the hot sun, and weirdly colored because of the difference in exposure.

You will be thirstier than a camel going through a desert, hungrier than a woman three days into her no-carb diet. You will not care if the water has been through five different people, when you’re out and you have 10 kilometers of uphill biking to go, you take what you can get.

Your legs will ache, your wrist sore, your hands more callused than if you spent your day woodworking, after clutching the handlebars and braking for dear life. You will fall face first into rocks if you brake without thinking, bruising places you never thought would turn purple and yellow.

You will forget to laugh, stop talking, breathe like you’ve been starved for oxygen for hours. You will curse, almost cry, feel ashamed for keeping up with the group, then get to a point where you’re beyond shame and just want to get there.

You will be tempted to quit midway. Feel like your vision is tunneling and your legs fall off. You will blame whoever thought of the route for not setting a more manageable pace. You will not be able to let your mind wander, because an errant rock can send you flying off your bike. Trails will be treacherously steep or too near the edge of a 100 foot drop. You will have to think about your shifting, your speed, your angles, your exertion at one point, because you can’t give your all and not have any energy to get back.

For me, mountain biking is an extreme sport. I have never pushed myself to limits that I have crossed, broken and unbelievably pushed to oblivion.

And I love it.

The feeling of the mountain wind going through your face at 40 km/ph as you go downhill is unmatched. The view of that peak after a grueling uphill ride never more beautiful. Food tastes better after biking 15 kilometers in rough terrain. Even the same trails do not get old, if you go through them so much faster, and without accident, it’s an accomplishment. Flowing water through your shoes feels much cooler and awakens your senses after sloshing through miles of mud and rocks. Every sense is heightened, every experience magnified because of all you had to go through to get there.

Biking pushes you to places you will never have thought you would get to, and you will be so much better for it.

Here’s hoping “better” gets here faster.

I have to admit, right until someone popped the question of forever, I wasn’t really the person who imagined what their wedding would look like. I wasn’t the girl who put the pillowcase over their head to mimic a veil, or had play weddings with a pretend husband. Sure, I loved sending ideas to my friends who were engaged as one of my favorite blogsites was a diy wedding site, but it was just because I loved the offbeat ideas that I saw on this site that a friend showed me.

I think it’s my addiction to research. I like heading over to a site, a forum, a blog and combing it through thoroughly for ideas. The ideas I see are automatically clicked, saved, and organized into folders. I send ideas over to a friend that was engaged a month before I did almost everyday, and keep a folder for her stuff as well.

Right now, everything is still a bit overwhelming since there is so much to think about, from top to bottom, all the expenses, the choices, the ideas, well, it can almost make you keel over. Unless you’re planning your own wedding, you really don’t know about all the work, stress and money that pours into that one day. Even now, when I’m just in the “information gathering” stage, i’m already imagining all the things that might and will go wrong when the wedding takes place. (If you know me, you’d know that I’m the girl always with one thing wrong, the bag strap broken, the sneaker going into the mud puddle, the huge zit on graduation, and I am deathly afraid of what Murphy’s law is going to serve me.)

Anyway, as people all around me always tell me, I’m breathing and rebooting. I have the time and the resources to make it a day that’d be us.

Now does anyone know where to start?

 

I’m sure I’m not the only one in the metro (and all around the world wherever Filipinos are) singing this song right now, but after almost a whole week of scary, nonstop torrential rain, it feels so good to see that little flicker of sun between the leaves of our mango tree, the one that has been swaying precariously this whole ordeal.

It was a scary several days, with reports all around of streets impassable, of people needing rescue and friends stranded at their workplace or houses struggling to go to work or back home. This was all too horribly familiar to our 2009 experience with Ondoy, when floods ruined houses and lives in a sweep of dirty, garbage ridden water.

What’s worse is that this was just rain. That’s what news reports, and the weather bureau’s explanation to all of us. Normal rainfall aggravated by a storm in Japan’s area of responsibility. We couldn’t even put a name to the horror that befell the Metro, with people all around getting stuck at some point or another, and some getting worse fates.

My family and I have been lucky, and we thank our lucky stars for where we are, and how we’ve been shielded so far from the effects of really bad weather, even if we have been touched by fire far too many times. Fire we can control to a point, but the air and the sky? Not really.

Here’s hoping we all learn from these circumstances, and focus on not only disaster rescue and relief, but prevention and strengthening of our resources all around. We know things will only get worse as our world deals with the effects of global warming and climate change, somehow, we hope we’re prepared for things to come.

But just for this moment, let’s just smile at the sun.

(and help out in any way you can)

I know everyone’s probably heard this expression too much, and are sick of it, but the past two weeks, I’ve been really taking it to heart. This is definitely one of my more adventurous phases, and I am really beginning to see that sometimes, not everything is about lying around with loved ones and nomming all the time (which is still my favorite thing to do in the world) and that the world is just a step away from adventure.

First of all, let me show you my bike:

This was during my first bike trail at a place a little past Timberland. It was literally the third time I’d taken my bike out, and the first time I’d gone out to somewhere other than the UP Diliman Academic Oval. It was a grueling ride. The most physically exhausting day I’d gone through in my life. I was so tired I wanted to pass out, and even fell burger bell first into the muddy clay downhill. I was scratched, bruised, muddier than I’ve ever been and my running shoes will never look the same again, but it was also the most fun I’d ever had in a really long time. I have always loved bikes as a child. I never had one, and had to borrow other people’s rides. I would get scratched up because I couldn’t reach the ground and the brakes didn’t work, so I put my ankle in the middle of a concrete bench to stop.  I remember loving the feel of the wind in my hair, and the serenity of riding through whatever road/route/park I was in, never feeling as calm as I did when I was on two wheels.

As an adult, if it’s possible, I like it even more. For the first time in my life, I have my very own bike! And even though it’s not pink, it’s a girl bike, with a cushy seat and soft suspension, large tires built for trails and a decent shock system so instead of crashing down on bumps, I’d bounce a bit. It has these really cool stencil things on a silver background that makes it look more like something you’d cruise around in than muddy up, and it cleans easy too. I like to think more than myself, my bike did a lot of the work to make it easier for me to take the shock of that exhausting day. When we got to the top of that hill and saw the sights, I could hardly believe I got there without someone propelling me.

Not that I didn’t have support. There was the fiance cheering me on and telling me I could do it every step of the way. The rest of the group were nice enough to wait and told me that we could stop anytime and rest when I needed it, and when my bike got a bit bent from the crash, they picked up the pieces of my broken bell and fixed the handlebars to ride like new.

It was an experience. A life experience, and I can’t wait to go again.

But that’s not the only way I said “you only live once” these past two weeks. On a company sponsored trip to the lower part of the Philippines, I had an opportunity to go on Asia’s longest zipline. Let me tell you, I am not the biggest fan of these ropes to propel you across a big ravine. I have gone to at least 6 places that offer this “attraction” and I’ve never gone once. It’s not that I’m afraid of heights, I’m just afraid of falling down to my death. My fear of heights extends to 3rd floor balconies and Tagaytay views I’m that skittish.  So when it came time to sign up for the 840m zipline, I was nervous until the last minute. My knees were knocking together when it came time to strap in, especially when they told us we couldn’t hold on to the straps when we were going down. I had actually run out of swear words by the time I’d gone halfway through the line it was that long.

So does this mean I’m going to be extra adventurous from now on? Probably not. Everyone says people getting married should be more careful as they’re more prone to accidents, and even if I don’t fully subscribe to that notion, I’m not going to push it and wobble down the aisle in a cast or a wheelchair. I am a klutz still and will most probably get into some scrapes. However, don’t count me out just yet.

 

 

Edna Buchanan once said, “Friends are the family we choose for ourselves” and I think I would have to agree. I don’t know how and who I was in a former life, but I’m glad to know that whatever I did landed me with the people in these photos to have for my own. I am not the most affectionate, or the most easy to be with, or always conscious (as many can attest, I’ve fallen asleep in bars, gigs, rockband sessions) but these people suffer through my company when I need them, and sometimes show up even when I didn’t think I did.

I don’t see them often enough, the hazards of working from home forces my hand to really have to come out and make plans if i just want a glimpse, a lunch, a dinner, or an all out, stay over drinking session with any one of them. I don’t mind. I just miss them sometimes, since I can’t just reach out, tell them we should go out for a break, and shoot the breeze.

Thank goodness for modern communication like instant messaging or social networking for making it easier to catch up, or plan to catch up.

So who wants to meet up?

Speaking of catching up, I just got engaged. 🙂

If I could have had my pick of talents, it wouldn’t be proficiency in playing any instruments (although I have to admit the closest I’ve been to making music was playing Mary Had A Little Lamb) or the ability to paint, I would pick the ability to be a little more socially adept.

Those who know me would scoff right now and say that I am one of the most talkative people they know, and one of the easiest people to be friends with, but this I have to point out: Did I reach out to introduce myself first? In our 15, 10, or even 6 years of friendship, do you recall how we began as friends?

9/10 instances would be a common friend introducing us, with me making awkward small talk, or sharing something that I shouldn’t, or for the brave souls, those who introduced themselves to the scowly girl in the corner.

Yes, that was (and still is for the most part) me. I don’t mean to look like a shrew, but somehow, growing up without the skills of my social butterfly mother and grandmother has left me leaving the impression that 1. I’m a freak. 2. I’m obnoxious. 3. I’m unapproachable. Not that I have any illusions of being a “girl”, just one of the female gender that will not start a conversation or go around a social function introducing myself to others.

I am in awe of people who can do this. I believe that it is a skill, a talent to put yourself out there and risk getting shut out. I know a few people who can actually begin a conversation with most anyone, and leave an impression, that they’ve made someone’s day for doing so, or be one of those people others never forget for their warmth, their wit or even their audacity.

Not that I haven’t tried to be more social. I hang around people that are more friendly than me and try to soak up their talents at socialization. I’ve actually gone to smoke breaks at different work situations not to smoke but to join in (or sometimes just listen and nod) conversation.

I do realize this makes me sound like some kind of stalker, but really, this is just me confessing of social idiocy and a life wont to spend with others. Really truly, loneliness is one of the feelings I hate the most, and maybe this work at home gig isn’t helping.

I find myself clinging awkwardly to old friends, and going out of my way to make new ones to as much as my ability, I am a friend hanger on.

However, please do not call me on the phone as I do not like talking on it. I would rather talk to you in person, or having long instant messenger conversations for hours. I feel like I can share more in those situations, and not limited to dead air I will definitely subject you to if you felt the need for a phone call.

I am first to admit that I am prolly more “talkative” online than I am in person, I feel more free, as most people are, behind the screen name. However, I do try to make my online personality equal to my face to face one, but more often than not, I can put more words to paper/screen than I can put together in person, especially upon the first few times I’ve met you.

So what am I really saying? Probably just that I hope I grow out of this socially awkward “phase”, especially with less opportunities for socialization. And 2. Does anyone know the trick for being less socially awkward? Coz I could use a few tricks.

I don’t discuss him too often, just because this is one thing I want to keep private. Chances are, if you know both of us, you already know how we are, and if you don’t, well just know that I’m happy.

I think this photo pretty much defines how we are most days. Not really the most put together of people, wearing things that are the most practical (this day was a sweltering one and we were sweating buckets), but laughing our behinds off at random things.

I forgot who took the photo, only that this was a children’s party, which I really liked because all the details were personally attended to, and you could tell that the parents of the one year old we were celebrating really worked to make this day such a special one for their little one (also, they had a dessert buffet, score!).

So that’s it, no rhyme or reason really, but that I love this photo, and the person in it.

Lists for me are really fun.  My dear five readers, urge you to try these things at least once in your life, because I cannot imagine my life without them:

1. Uni sashimi- basically sea urchin that is raw, and served with good soy sauce and citrus (calamansi is my favorite). Smooth, melting in your mouth and basically tasting like the sea, this indulgent treat is a must for any sashimi lover. The best one I’ve ever tasted was from Hana in Little Tokyo, like buttah, but better. For the good stuff, you don’t need to dip it into anything, or do anything but take it out of the shell and eat it. For inexpensive uni by the bowl, try Tokyu in Pioneer or Panay Avenue, it’s a favorite place for fresh, good stuff.

2. Bone marrow- Whether eaten on its own, roasted in an oven, or like any normal Filipino, in a fresh bulalo (beef stew), bone marrow is sinfully delicious. It is high in cholesterol, delightfully addicting, and for me, best with bagoong balayan and calamansi. Bone marrow should be enjoyed while you can. Best place to get it? Behind the Mahogany market in Tagaytay, where it’s guaranteed fresh, and very simply prepared to show off its incredible flavor.

3. Vigan empanada- Dastardly deceptive, the orange crust on this Ilocano treat masks three simple ingredients. Shredded monggo sprouts or papaya, egg, and Vigan longganisa in a simple rice flour shell deep fried till golden, this is my Sunday treat. Why Sunday? Because the best I’ve tasted in the metro of this Ilocano merienda is at the Eton Sunday market, with real Vigan longganisa and the freshest eggs. Every other place I’ve tried this in the metro is a pale comparison, but okay to bridge that craving gap. Get it at Ilocos Empanada at Katipunan, or other Ilocos Emapanada branches at other locations.

4. Chicharon bituka- Crispy fried, cleaned out pork or chicken intestines make up this simple and sinful treat. Introduced to me by my dad one morning when going through Laloma to the province, I ate and fell in love. Dipped in spicy vinegar, the umay to this sinful treat is cut with a the acidity of the natural cane vinegar, while adding another layer of interesting flavor. Get it fresh and best at Laloma, where they fry the intestines from the lechon they just roasted (cleaned of course, i hope).

5. Isaw– Another way to eat animal guts, isaw is basically intestines cleaned out, looped on a barbecue stick, roasted on an open fire. One can usually find this treat in outdoor stalls in the afternoon. You can’t have just one, as these things are addictive, dipped in a spicy vinegar. I like the one from Mang Larry’s stall in UP, where it’s P2 a stick, plus P2 for spicy vinegar. I usually get fifteen sticks to justify the one hour usual wait from the time we park, to the time we settle to eat.

6. Lugaw– Whether with chicken (arroz caldo), or my favorite beef tripe (goto), lugaw is the perfect hangover cure. Hot, comforting, and simple, lugaw is a simple meal for anyone and everyone. The foamy stuff on top that accumulates as it cooks even serves as a milk alternative for when people cannot afford milk. I may be staunchly Filipino since I love lugaw more than its Chinese counterpart, congee.

7. Durian– Strange, smelly and absolutely polarizing people when served on the table, durian is a sweet, creamy fruit ensconced in a stinky, spiky outside. It’s quite expensive for fruit and is a bi+ch to open, but for us who love it, is worth all the trouble. The flesh melts in your mouth and offers layers of flavor you cannot find in any other fruit. Somehow it’s as creamy as frozen yogurt with a fruity layer. The best and worst part of it is that the stinkier it is, the sweeter the taste will be, so when you smell it from two aisles away from the supermarket, prepare yourself for the best (or worst) experience of your fruit consumption. For those who have never tried this because of the smell, I urge you to try it twice and see if it changes your mind. Most of us had adults give us a taste as a joke, but maybe you’ve grown to like it between the years.

8. Carabao milk– Full fat, creamy and best bought from your provincial market, carabao milk is a sin and a piece of heaven at the same time. The humble Philippine carabao, in my opinion just produces the best milk I’ve ever had (I had to drink goat milk as a child okay, and it still makes me gag). My aunt used to buy it at the market at 5 am for us to mix in with rice and eat with dried fish. My grandfather used to have bottles of it in the ref, and I would always beg for them when I went home to the province. Until now, the best carabao milk is the one from the neighborhood carabao lady at the palengke and not the one you can buy (so expensively) at the mall. Just remember and heat it up first to make sure it’s pasteurized, as most are sold untreated and straight from the teat. Also, if you’ve ever had pastillas from Bulacan, the creamy, pillowy treats, you just might be interested to know that those are traditionally made with carabao milk to achieve the creaminess from all its natural butterfat.

This is not my first food list, or my last. This is just what I can remember today. Count on a part 2, 3, 4 and 5 in the future.

Ever since I can remember, ice cream has been one of my favorite things to eat. For this girl growing up in a third world, tropical country when airconditioning was still a novel thing, ice cream was a liberator to sweltering days where it doesn’t matter how much fans were turned to you, you still felt like a sticky, sweaty mess.

It did help that I had a grandmother who sold it, from Magnolia in its heyday, to Nestle when it took over the national (well provincial) market. I remember being able to finish off a Twin Popsies before even a drop even melted, and a pint of Double Dutch in one sitting. One of my first memories is stirring at a cup of ube ice cream until it melted and drinking it like soup. I remember the most luxurious thing I had as a child was the Nestle Mega, which I now realize was their version of the Magnum, at P20 per stick, the most expensive thing on the menu (excluding pints and gallons). I literally ate away my grandma’s profits for the day, and it didn’t even matter (Sorry Lola) since I was hungry for sweets and a release from the sticky heat, compounded by blackouts in our provincial town.

It took years for my mom to allow us to eat street ice cream, not trusting the street vendors to be sanitary enough (to be fair we all had weird digestive systems). What she didn’t know was, every time we were somewhere for a school field trip that had no chaperone I had my wallet ready to buy an avocado, cheese, ube cone from Manong Sorbetero. Family occasions we bought a whole canful (almost as tall as me) from the neighborhood ice cream maker, and 2 grocery bags full of cones. I was always first to check what flavor was available. When we went to SM North Edsa, it was a huge treat to share a cone of Better Than Ice Cream, a frozen yogurt treat in such an exotic flavor, Mint Chocolate Chip. My dad, when he was having a great night, would bring home cans of Selecta (Oh don’t tell Lola) of Keso, his favorite flavor. When I was a little older and had a bit of control with my allowance, I spent it on Dippin’ Dots, these weirdly small globes of ice cream that just melts in your mouth.

As I grew up, my taste in ice cream evolved. I found Fruits in Ice Cream in UP Diliman and gorged on cones of Green Tea. I giggled at the thought of Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough from Sebastian’s. The weirdest flavor I think I love is the Bleu Chese from Sebastian’s, with whole chunks of blue cheese topped with walnuts and Palawan Honey. I finally got to taste Cherry Garcia earlier this year, with it being my current favorite flavor.

Later on I came to realize what a relief these soft, sweet, cooling bites were. Until now, when I get annoyed, want to have dessert, am a little angry at the world, I still reach for the freezer. Especially now, with this unbelievable sticky heat, I am keeping my freezer well stocked.

What is your favorite food? Or summer food? Or comfort food?