interesting tidbits

interesting names and lines from past two days:
Bocateja - surname of the lady in Cebu that I've been having nightmares about the past two months. she holds my future in her hands. She is the all-powerful being who's processing my delayed registration of birth and who I've texted and called practically every week since start of the year..
Frauke - now that is a very unusual name. Name of the Swedish lady Anton and I met with yesterday morning who works with New York Times. Now why does she merit space in my blog? Only because she has a very strange name (to me). It's pronounced frock -- like, you know, that other word without the r but pronounced with a british accent, followed by 'yeew' instead of you. tee hee. I couldn't for the life of me say her name during the meeting, me and my prudish ways, was so scared it might come out sounding like the other word. ANYWAY, this lady was tall like me, slim like me (naks!), blonde straight shoulder length hair, yes very blonde, pretty, pero siyempre hindi kasing ganda ko!! Tinagalog ko yon dahil baka blogger siya. Alam mo naman itong mga taga NY, mga high tech yang mga yan..lahing nasa internet. kahit matanda na, baka nagbabasa pa ng blog.
"Put the bunny back in the box". -- For some reason, Corinne, May Anne and I had a hey day (that spelled correctly?) mimicking Nicolas Cage during that famous scene in Con Air. But we pronounced it differently...you know..the way non-urban folk would pronounce it. Poot instead of put, bah-neeee instead of bunny, bax instead of box. Or change all the b's to v's and the p to f. We had all sorts of variations and we were in stitches the whole time...so what else is new in our office, we are just way too mababaw. shallow humor. And finally...
"How do I look?" -- story goes Ate Vi was taping that eksena for a hair or was it beauty product commercial and she could not get the right pronunciation for 'look'. There were many many MANY takes... luk, looooook, leuk, and of course we tried saying all those different variations and as a result, all work ceased again for a good 15 minutes as we just needed the time to laugh. Sorry, SSI, that went out of your payroll. 15 managerial minutes.
So...my schedule next two days (in case I don't get to blog) -
This morning... am off to a meeting with our president at...the Coconut Palace!! Love that name, unusual name for an events place. It sounds like the kingdom of the apes. Anyway, the meeting is about the forthcoming Italian Festival where we are supposed to assist the Italian ambassador to put together an entire evening of festivities...complete with fashion show featuring our Italian brands, i.e. Furla, S.Ferragamo, Diesel and the like. So we're meeting with the ambassador's wife. Incidentally there is a funny incident from last year's festival. We have code named somebody McJim, but then again the story is for another time for another journal.
Tonight at 6pm - Attending the cocktails and 7-course dinner hosted by Hotel Sofitel. This is their grand grand GRAND celebration to inaugurate their new hotel since the Sofitel group took over. Cielo says it's a must-attend affair...she says there are fireworks and surprise entertainment numbers, and that everything is just going to be so lavish. So....I shall attend. Will wear my old black chiffon pantsuit thing..the one that looks like a cat suit with flowing stuff on top..kinda plunging neckline but that's ok coz I gained 15 pounds already and my front doesn't look like my back anymore. gold evening bag. very nice neckpiece given to me by Eliza. my hair I shall fix myself..I kinda like the way Julia Roberts fixed her 3 years ago during the Academy Awards...you know, pulled back, but kinda poof-like on the top back, like the sixties. Wow, 3 years ago, and it made an impression on me! So all I have to do is tease my hair at the back, pony tail it, hair spray, and then voila...the 'Julia look' i hope.
Tomorrow evening, photo exhibit of dear sweet Alex Van Hagen, and I promised him I wouldn't miss it for the world. I'll be going with my entire team...he was sweet enough to call and text each of us...

This is a poem to my daughter Nikki

by me, her mama. October 2005

This is a poem to my daughter Nikki

Who in many disturbing ways

Resembles a girl I used to know

Somewhere ages and stages ago.

For I too turned eighteen

And rebelled and struck out in rage

at a woman who wanted to shape me

and mold me into her clone.

Like some déjà vu,

I find that you, headstrong you,

Have become an obstinate, independent

extension of me.

Yet thankfully different from me.

While loving you, I live in fear

Of mistakes repeating, your young heart breaking.

The desire to mould you

into what might shield you

from the darkness crossed my mind.

But no, unlike the generation past

I shall never ask that you be me,

for I realize each child, just like a flower,

must turn toward the sunlight

on its own.

Bingo!

by me, October 2005

The coldness in his heart

Burned the deepest hole in mine

The icy indifference in his eyes

Only served to wound, to scald, to

Send me into endless pain.

I begged for warmth,

A respite from the burning, biting ache

That plagued me.

Yet the winter stretched far too long

Soon the frostbite that ensued

Enveloped my heart and crushed it

Crushing too the embers that

Still glowed with warmth and love

For the coldness in his heart

Had found its mark

And burned the deepest hole in mine.

NO ROSES

I have finally decided to publish 'No Roses' here. I wrote this essay way back in 2001 shortly after that incident when Luis spotted an article in Philippine Star that featured 'One Big Happy Family' .. and I mentioned this in the last paragraph. This was published in Metro Working Mom last September 2001 under my pen name "Mary Frances Co" as back then I still didn't know how my new employer would react to my declaring to the world my status as a 'fallen woman'..hehehe.. ANYWAY, after No Roses, there is an interesting twist...read on...

No Roses
by: me
July 2001

Referring to my fourteen long years of single parenthood, my married girl friends, all of whom are well into their second decade of marriage, have often told me how fortunate I am to be “having my cake and eating it too.” They envy what they perceive to be a good life -- lovely children and a carefree single lifestyle with nary a man to control me. Their consoling thoughts and kind intentions are, at best, misplaced though. This of course is far from the truth. To quote a line lifted from a depressing but regrettably very factual book I read – Marriage may have its thorns, but celibacy has no roses. So to my married friends – stay put. You’ve got the roses.

I have been a single parent all through my parenting life. When I was young, 22, and shallow, I thought the world of a man who, with his suave and cosmopolitan ways, swept me off my feet and promised me everything in the world – except marriage. And as most modern love tragedies go, I, the young hotel executive, fell hopelessly in love with this handsome client, and ended up being pregnant – not once – but twice, three years apart. He of course disappeared shortly after, leaving me on my solo flight: a bona fide single parent to Nikki, now 14, and Luis, 11.

So much has been said about the downside of single parenting, about the tears and heart-rending emotions and poignant domestic scenes. Yet now, as the three of us gather round the dinner table and laugh over the most mundane things that happened at school and in the office, I feel an overwhelming sense of pride at my dual role and how I have fared so far. I laugh and cry over countless incidents which a lot of single struggling moms like myself have a corner on. I wear my heartaches – sleepless nights, stale bills, and disconnection notices – like badges on my sleeve, with nothing to go on but hope, prayers, and a tremendous amount of love and concern for my children.

Single parenting is a great balancing act that requires you to wear many hats. You are the first, second, and third shift. You wake up in the middle of the night, take the temperature, give the medicine, only to do it all over again every four hours for many sleepless nights, while miraculously still managing to go to the office each morning. You are the sole arbiter of the children’s fights – since there’s nobody else to give the final decision as to who hit who first. You decide, punish, and always end up the mean (and only) parent. Only you will decide whether your daughter can go to the sleepover or not; only you will take the brunt of her “I hate you forever” when you say no. And when your son gets his asthma attack and the nebulizer doesn’t work, you get into the car and drive him to the emergency room at three in the morning – just you.

On the lighter side, having no man around the house makes matters very difficult to the point of being almost hilarious. I actually started bonding with the janitor of our apartment building. He is my knight in shining armor when the faucet leaks, the fuse blows, or when an electrical appliance smells funny. I have likewise sworn undying loyalty to the neighborhood car mechanic. I listen in awe to the strange babble coming out of his mouth, and blindly nod my head in agreement each time he talks of transmissions, contact points and radiator fans.

Which brings us now to the subject of men. And dating. Somehow, single parenthood makes you a bit more concerned about the way you look and the impact you hope you still make when you enter a restaurant or hotel lobby, matronly hips and all. After all, you must admit there is still that yearning to find the elusive Mr. Right who will one day sweep you off your feet, and upgrade your Toyota Corolla. Of course it doesn’t help your ego any when your teenage daughter swears that the young mechanic in the corner Caltex station named Ryan has a crush on you! Or when those teenage eyeballs rolls up as you try on a hopeless pair of flares or bootlegs and a tiny top you’re hoping to wear for a date that evening – all borrowed from her. And finally, it doesn’t make for very good timing when you get a text message in the middle of a dinner date that your son absolutely needs to have a ream of colored paper, a new notebook, and twelve folders with fasteners for school the next day!

No roses maybe, but…last month, while going through the Sunday papers, Luis spotted an article that read: “One Big, Happy Family.” In a very soft voice he said, “Well – that’s one thing we’re not.” The color drained from my face as I felt a sense of failure creep in. I had visions of going into counseling with him, and redesigning my life and my career to address this grave situation. I embraced him and calmly whispered, “My darling, what made you say that?” “Mom!” he gleefully replied, “I meant – we’re one SMALL happy family!!”

I have no roses. But I have garlands of sweetness.

So what was the interesting twist? In 2004, I met a man who was a single dad and who would later on become a very good friend. He was a cop and at the same time somewhat of an artist - a photographer - AND he had the ability to write. After a few months of e-mail exchanges, I sent him my No Roses essay. Within that very same morning, he responded with another essay, this time entitled "No Roses, Just Carnations".

No Roses, Just Carnations

May 2004

Single parenthood is not easy for any person, man or woman. Yet women seem to find it more acceptable, well for the most part women find it more acceptable and seem to want to help each other more. If you’re a guy, and a single Dad, most women don’t want that. In particular if the woman has no children herself or they are grown and out of the house. At one point in time, the single Mom wanted a man who would accept her children like his, but now that hers are gone; enough of kids, they don’t want to raise anyone else’s kids. Sometimes that’s a tough pill to swallow.

Being a single Dad is not one of the easier assignments I’ve had. And add to the formula that you have a little girl, not a boy and your child lives with you five out of seven days a week minimum, well life becomes an adventure. I’ve completed multiple calls, assignments and been through things that would make the average person go home. I’ve entered abandoned warehouses searching for armed gunmen, I’ve been under fire, stabbed, spit at, beat up, seen things that would make your skin crawl. And yet none of them compare to the assignment of Fatherhood. Oh don’t get me wrong, I’ve embraced the role of a single Dad as the ultimate position any Man could have; I have no regrets about being Dad. It’s the best job I’ve ever had.

Yes, I was surprised to learn my former mate was pregnant and told I was not the father. I cringed but felt nothing, as this was her doing. It was later being told I was the father that hit a bee coming in ass backwards at 60 miles an hour and striking your chin. Now there is an owie!

I went through the anger of the mother who threw the gifts and supplies I bought for the child only to have them thrown in the dumpster. I went through the anguish of being told, “You will not be in the delivery room!”

I had an option, be a part of her life or stay out all together. But the moment I held my little girl in my arms an angel from heaven softly touched my shoulder and I can still hear her saying, “Care for this gift from God for this child is yours. She did not ask to come into this world. Be kind, be gentle and give her the love she’ll need for a life time!” I don’t even remember what her mother was yelling at me about, I just remember feeling the angel and hear the words.

When I tuck my little one in to bed, even though she’s 12, I still kiss her good night and still tell her I love her. And each day that I drop her off at school and go off to work, I always say I love you. You never know when those could be your last words.

Oh the trials and tribulations of learning how to care for a baby. There is no owner’s manual. I mean you buy a car there is an owners manual. You get a VCR and there is a manual. Hell you buy a most anything and it has a manual. And there are no warranties or extended warranties. You just get what you get and you wing it.

Let’s take diapers. Now there is a subject for a tactical action plan. The first day I was allowed, and yes I use that term, allowed, I brought her into her bedroom. I laid her down in the crib and I hadn’t gone 20 seconds of looking at her when I got this odor. I mean the kind of odor that makes you squint your eyes. I let out a sound like Scooby Do, “Roh ohh!” when he’s in trouble and my baby just smiles. Oh no, diaper change time. Baby just gave me one of many gifts. So, ok no manual here, how do I do this. I know, improvise, adapt, overcome. That’s it, I can do that. So off the diaper comes and OH MY GOD what did you eat child? The tears welled up, the nose shut down and it was off to the window and open it up; turn the ceiling fan on and get a can of deodorizer. Whoops forgot to change the diaper. So off came one stinky diapie and cleaned her up lickity split, I was done. I looked like a rodeo rider roping a calf. I kind of turned to the mirror and yelled, “what’s my time?!”

However how to deal with hazardous waste. Nope, that stinky diapie was not gonna stay in the house, it would leave an odor that would keep the bugs and flies and everything else out (hmmmm…what’s the downside there?). So off it went to the outside trashcan. Rommel the dog saw me coming and it’s like he knew and even he fled the scene. What an experience.

Then there is a feeding. See this is why there should be a manual, never ever feed a baby from the front. They think it’s fun to spit it out and when they do, it comes out in force like a twelve gauge shotgun. So always feed from the side.

Oh and let’s talk about sleep; you sleep when they sleep. Life as you knew it was over. They were Master and Commander of this side of your world and they know it. They’re hungry, they cry, the poop, they cry, the want love they cry. Oh and they don’t care if it’s three in the morning or noon, they want and want it now.

Yes I agree, the trips to the doctor at all hours of the night are something else or being on a date with someone and getting a page only to learn that your child is running 103.1 and mommy won’t take her to the doctor because her son is in pajamas. Sorry ass excuse but what do you do? Sorry babe, got to cut the movie short coz the wench wont’ take the kid to the doctor.

Or you make plans for the night or day and Mommy says just keep her. So there go the plans. But I made a promise to that Angel that day and to my daughter, and that is I would never turn my back on my child. I guess that’s why she lives with me. Many a date was canceled because Mommy said keep her. That’s ok more time for me and Baby.

So as time goes this little one grows. I remember the crawling stage. They should make Olympic Events for that. I set her down on one side of the room and with in nano-seconds the kid is half way out the door.

Then I remember taking her to school. Here’s a good one, I’m ready for her to cry and not want to stay at school. Nope, hey Daddy, there are kids here. CYA, I’m gonna go play.

Oh but the camping trips and the ball games and well being a man, I didn’t know all the girl stuff. Instead of Barbies, she was throwing a football at Cal State Northridge on a tight spiral for 15 yards. She would have one the competition but we later found out they didn’t allow four year olds to compete.

Then there are the questions you have to answer. Like why other moms won’t let their little girls come over and stay the night simply because there is no woman in the house. Or why do other kids have moms and dads.

Over the last 12 years, I’ve gone through heartache with the mother of this child and later with a woman whom I loved dearly. But it came down to making a decision. I pleaded and begged don’t be jealous of a little girl. Because we walk hand in hand and she comes up to us and takes your hand and mine; that doesn’t mean she is putting a wedge between us, it means she wants to love us both and wants you as a mommy. But to no avail I was asked to make a choice. So this is why I’m a single Dad.

It is a very delicate balancing act. For the longest time I focused on my little girl to ensure she was ok with the dissolution of a five yearlong relationship between my former mate and me. She unlike me has such resilience that I envy her. “I’m ok Daddy, we were alone and doing fine before her and we’ll be fine without her!”

As the years have progressed, I see my little girl becoming a woman. Trying being a Dad and explaining the facts of life for a woman and how this affects her once a month. Wait until the arrival of this moment and deal with it. That’s an eye opener.

I could go on and on but I think I’ve made my point. No, there are no Roses, but you know, there are a lot of carnations and they are just as lovely. And you know, Carnations last longer and their fragrance lasts longer. Perhaps the joy and sacrifice of being a single father is worth my carnations.

As for being solo, I know there is a special someone for me out there. My Angel is looking for one and will let me know when the time comes. So to all single mothers, I salute you. For all single full time Dads…I honor you.

With his daughter Jennifer

__________________________________________________
My friend has since found his rose but we still keep in touch occasionally.

White is Right

There is always something exciting happening, or maybe we just have the tendency to find even the most mundane thing exciting in order to escape from all the stress!! Today for instance we found it so absolutely delightful that we all -- again by sheer coincidence -- came to work wearing white polos!! So...out came the camera and snap snap snap!! Work stopped for half an hour because of our instant pictorial. I swear, we are all so..'mababaw'..but that is precisely what keeps us sane and happy most of the time. so here we are - Sunday, Miciel, May Anne and myself saying white is right...

Busy

Tongfu's fine. He's home now. Only his throat got burned. That as well as his shoulders, where the liquid spilled. I felt so relieved when Luis told me as I was really expecting the worst! Today was extremely busy the way all days are.. starting with a shoot in the morning at Cafe Ysabel. Such a beautiful place, there was no need for us to bring props after all to get a "spring" like effect. Jane K was our stylist, Kai H our photog, and Allen our mu artist. plus brazilian (yet again!!) model Juliana who looked like a tisay Grace Tagle. Left them early as had a series of meetings whole afternoon...every half hour, with different brands! Mexx, Kenneth Cole, Charriol, DKNY, Springfield, Bally, Jessica, Episode and several more I forget...they all just kinda blend into one grey mush in my brain.. Mexx wants an event sometime in May. the others want the usual shoots..but the common denominator is everyone wants attention now. Tomorrow morning we have our pre-prod for the launch of Red Earth cosmetics...that's March 28 I think. Zara event is on April 26. Worked on paperwork till 9pm. Sometimes I wonder how I survive all of this and still manage to be a mom at the same time..and a single one at that!! But have been doing that for the past 20 years.. I am going to post my essay here very soon - the one I wrote in July 2001..and got published September 2001 in Metro Working Mom. It's entitled "No Roses"... you know, as in "Marriage may have its thorns, but celibacy ain't no roses".. ugh.

Tongfu

Today Ash Wednesday I will offer my mass for Tongfu Lin. Tongfu is Luis' classmate and very good friend since grade school days. He's in ICU now, in very serious condition and was supposed to have undergone surgery last night (no idea how he is at this very moment). During their chemistry lab the other day, he accidentally imbibed some drops of this very corrosive chemical (fabric disentigrates with a few drops!!). Luis isn't sure what it is..he says it's some acid or base that turns blue when mixed with water. Tongfu started coughing blood and was rushed to the hospital. When Luis told me about this yesterday I got so distraught. Maybe because Luis told me long ago that Tongfu too is the son of a single mom just like him. Gosh such a freak accident. Have been praying for him since last night. Offered one rosary. They were supposed to have some sort of 'role playing' where the flask was a magic potion or something..and the cork accidentally got off while Tongfu was supposedly 'drinking' the potion. Tongfu used to come to the house..I found it so cute that he was one of those very few chinese boys who still used chinese names and not names like Waldorf or Rossini or Bryce or similar.

I honestly think my entire team has gone cuckoo. We had a blast this morning when by sheer coincidence all of us showed up in black and white. so nobody could work because I, the head of the department, suddenly decided to have a pictorial!! Here we are.....

AND here again is a picture of our feet.... guess which one is whose...

Livejournal.com's kinda complicated. So many options, all I want is a straightforward public journal where I can post random thoughts. Maybe I will stick with this for the meantime and just update in the mornings and evenings...shucks...what'll I do in the office when I'm pissed with the world.
Yesterday's Zara pre-prod went well. Robby C had some super fantabulous ideas, Anton particularly liked the oversized chair and furniture part, you know, when models pretend to be alice in wonderland in one of the installations at the end of the ramp. The multiplicity concept is also ok, with the mirrors and each model being magnified one million times... Robby does have wild ideas, he is so talented I think.
Today I have a meeting with a man whose name I can't pronounce. He is Danish and his last name is spelled Stangegaard. So he told me to call him by his first name which is Per. not Pierre. Per. Other than that...it's usual paper work. Shoot tomorrow at Kai's studio, have to bring fake flowers to connote "Spring" because for this particular shoot, no more b for a graphic artist nor real flowers. Maybe I'll pass by Mom's house later and borrow the dusty flowers on her coffee table.

Happy Chinese new year! Today was a day of tikoy and hopia, and posing for the camera pretending to be Gong Li(??!!). Bad news though - I found out today that my www.blogspot URL had been blocked by our office server. JUST MY LUCK. I stayed up the whole night transferring my account to blogspot.com and of ALL the blog hosts, that's the one that had to be blocked!! I mean, everything else is allowed! - LJ, wordpress, spaces.live...oh my, WHY am I not surprised that these things happen? So I am now at a quandary..don't know if I should migrate to another blog host. decisions decisions. Well, at least it'll discipline me to just blog only when I'm at home and not when in the office. So maybe I'll stick with this one. It's got such a pretty template anyway...

Obsession

Am so totally obsessed. Stayed up till one am migrating from my old blog and playing around with themes and templates for this one. Finally settled on a 'parchment paper' template...we'll see how long the mood lasts. Opened up a photobucket account upon advise of teenage daughter and I experienced a eureka moment...this will finally organize all my photos scattered in CD's in the office, as attachments to emails and so on.. !!
Must concentrate on work today though. Zara pre-prod at 10am oh my gosh i better get going. Will wear my kung hei fat choi outfit today...cheongsam top. PLUS I treated myself to a brand new pair of shoes yesterday - the poor man's version of the famous F-M shoes popularized by gucci last fall'06, but in a lower heeled, more mummy-ish looking version, and under a super baduy brand I dare not mention in my elegant parchment looking paper blog. now why did I do that. ANYWAY on me it looks really nice, they will never know. Do you know that even the cork like looking heels are faux cork.
Well guess what...Corinne and Liza also decided to wear their FM shoes!! Here we are...guess whose shoes are whose...

kung hei fat lechon!

Auuurghhh...So this is how I spent my chinese new year - I went from shop to shop to shop to shop looking for an ignision switch set. Started by walking to Rapide from my gym. After making a few phone calls they said it would cost me P9,500. + P1,500 for home service since I couldn't start the car to bring it there. Plus another P8,000 to change all the door locks since the new key wouldn't fit the door locks ...I didn't tell them my old one didn't either coz both door locks had gotten ruined many years ago when I left car keys in the car on two separate occasions and I had to force open the doors by having the locks picked and ruined as a result...anyway..I digress...Then I walked to Oasis shell, taking care to avoid the mechanic I fought with (Melchor) and went straight to Roger. After many many phone calls, they said NONE of their suppliers carried that part -- an ignition switch for a Toyota Corolla 1990. So they told me to try Banawe and they'll just send someone to install for P350.. But I took a cab to Toyota Shaw instead where security guard Escalante greeted me very warmly - he is so sweet, we see each other every morning coz that's my route going to work, and he stops all traffic just so my car can pass. For Xmas I gave him 2 dozen oranges. Anyway, at Toyota I was told that the part I was looking for wasn't in stock...AND upon checking with the Toyota plant -- it wasn't in stock there either!! They said NOBODY ever orders that part anymore, and so one of them directed me to those rinky dink auto parts shops down Shaw Blvd...some hole in the wall called Fernando's...Took a jeep to Fernando's, who didn't have it either..he checked with their other branch in Boni...None as well..finally, coz he could see I was about to cry, he shoved his album of calling cards infront of me and told me to call up several car parts shops in Shaw and Kalentong..which I did...and finally spoke to this "New Power Car Parts" - the guy said he didn't have the part, HOWEVER, he suggested that maybe I didn't need to change the part..maybe all I needed was a good locksmith!!! EUREKA!!! YES!! I took a jeep to Kalentong and Mr New Power introduced me to my knight in shining armor -- mr. good locksmith a.k.a. Mang Berto -- a small white haired man who owned a little stall near "New Power". So after we agreed on a fee of P1,000 he closed his stall for the afternoon and we both took a jeep to go home... He worked on the car for THREE hours and finally got it fixed!!! Yes, Mang Berto for mayor!!!!
And that is how I spent chinese new year's eve.

February 16

by the way, I got a fourth tikoy today, but had to give it away, sobra na, tama na. am still wondering how i'll go home and get the car started to bring to the shop tomorrow. maybe there's a way i can get the half-of-a-key to work. I feel very very very very very very sad now. had another pre-prod meeting, this time re michael kors launch in June. Can't get myself to feel excited about work today, sorry.

Closed Doors

May Anne e-mailed this to me just now. It is just what I need this week. Thanks, May!

We need to learn to thank the Lord for closed doors just as much as we do for open doors. The reason God closes doors is because He has not prepared anything over there for us. If he didn’t close the wrong door we would never find our way to the right door. Even when we don’t realize it, God directs our paths through the closing and opening of doors. When one door closes, it forces us to change our course. Another door closes; it forces us to change our course yet again. Then finally, we find the open door and walk right into our blessing. But instead of praising God for the closed door, we get upset because we “judge by the appearances.” And in our own arrogance, or ignorance, we insist that we know what is right. We have a very present help in the time of need who is always standing guard. Because He walks ahead of us, He can see trouble down the road and HE sets up road blocks and detours accordingly. But through our lack of wisdom we try to tear down the roadblocks or push aside the detour signs. Then the minute we get into trouble, we start crying “Lord how could this happen to me?” We have got to realize that the closed door was a blessing. Didn’t He say that “No good thing will He withhold from them that love Him?” If you get terminated from your job - don’t be down, instead thank God for the new opportunities that will manifest themselves -- it might be a better job, or an opportunity to go to school. If that man or woman won’t return your call - it might not be them, it mig ht be the Lord setting up a roadblock.

One time a person had a bank he had been doing business with for many years tell him “NO” for a $10,000 loan. The Lord led him to call another bank. That bank approved a $40,000 loan for him at a lower interest rate than his own bank had advertised. I’m so grateful, for the many times God has closed doors to me, just to open them in the most unexpected places.

Curl up and die

the day was off to a VERY bad start. Why? need you ask? CAR problems as usual of course. But this particular problem was HIGHLY unusual. I have never heard of this happening to anyone -- my key broke in half while I was trying to start the car. First of all, it was stuck in the ignition and wouldn't turn - thus, I couldn't start the engine nor even turn the wheel. It was just STUCK. So, smart me (my brain was still asleep) had the bright idea of grabbing a pair of PLIERS. yes, pliers, folks. AND, with my temper at its peak, and beads of sweat streaming down my Youngblood foundation, I grabbed the key with the pliers and yanked it to the right...nope, it still wouldn't budge.. so I decided to give it one more try...YANK YANK AND SUPER YANK...something just snapped. The key was a key no more.

I took a cab this morning and spent P110, my budget sana for my caramel macchiato at Starbucks. Now my problem today is where to buy the whatever it is I need to buy.. ignition wiht keys, with matching door locks of course. AND I need to get a mechanic to come to the house to install it. Since I have a cold war with the Oasis guys (ever since they overcharged me and i refused to pay), I don't have anyone to call. What a day. This weekend is ruined. I want to go home curl up and die.

FINALLY!!! My budget presentation for 2007 is over. After two long months of postponement ...yes!! request for direct phone lines to the office approved. request for additional staffing - pr and events clerk + warehouse VMD clerk + 401 VMD executive -- all approved!! (actually, it was so quick I think they just wanted to get rid of me and move on to the next meeting. hehehe). Met with Raul and his team after that to discuss Tod's fund raising activity and Boss' editorial spread. Of all days, I forgot my makeup kit today; suddenly remembered I have cocktails tonight hosted by Fr.embassy at Alliance Francaise. all I have is a tube of lipstick. Henry bag is with me -- but it is so overpoweringly huge and can never do as a chic evening bag one can bring to cocktails. Henry will have to stay in the car then, and I just bring my cellphone and biz cards. so...eto na naman tayo sa walang katapusang cocktails..I hope Gracie's there so we can make chismis. BY THE WAY, I got ANOTHER tikoy today. 3 more days till Chinese New Year. I can only take so much tikoy before my face explodes with oily zits. wala bang non-fat tikoy diyan.

The Day After

the day after V-day....is the start of...Tikoy time!!!! Kung Hei Fat Choi!!. kung hei fat LECHON!! Year of the Pig! (incidentally that's my year) But first, roll call - yesterday, I received: 1 box of M&S chocolates from sweet gay friend Ayie, 1 rose from SLG ad agency, 1 rose that went with the box of chocolates, a fantabulously lovely and REALLY huge bouquet of red and peach roses, carnations, mums from my Aussie friend JH, 1 box of tikoy from dear friend Gracie from PhilStar, and 1 box of tikoy - not sure - i think it was from Manprom ad agency. I wonder why they can't make tikoys heart shaped for those years when Chi New Year falls close to V-day.
Anyway..have sent my cheongsam top to the cleaners in preparation for Kung Hei Fat Choi!! We all agreed to come in our most Chinese attire on Monday. I told Sunday to put chopsticks in his hair.
Have a lovely day, everyone!!!

GO RED!!!

Happy V Day everyone!!! to all the lov-ers, lov-ees and loveless out there...go RED RED RED like I and my office mates are doing today... red lipstick, red underwear, red nail polish, red eyes (from crying or drinking depending on your reason for being loveless - haha)... have a fantabulous day and take it easy, relish every moment.. next year, you could be with somebody else!! (and he too - it works both ways) mwah!!

Old Parañaque, 1963 - 1964

So here is the start of my big project -- an autobiography!! can't seem to get beyond age 5 though. Have had this since last year:

I remember walking along a muddy surface with our maid Beatriz, taking care to balance myself on whatever pebbles I could find, careful that my rubber slippers wouldn't slide off and make me stumble and get left behind by my older brother. This was our regular afternoon activity. I had barely started play school, and most of the hours of the day were still spent exploring the great, still unpolluted outdoors. Our house was situated in old Parañaque, and behind our house was the bay. No reclaimed area yet then. All we had to do was travel through that pebbly, muddy expanse of soil, and there we were -- perched on that meter high cement barrier that separated us from Manila Bay.

My brother Jomie always had a theory for everything which was bible truth for me then, as it still is sometimes now, after forty plus years. It was from him I learned during one of those afternoons that if you held a seashell to your ear close enough, you could listen to what seemed like the entire Atlantis. Actually, it WAS the entire Atlantis. I imagined a whole world inside that shell; I believed that mermaids lived inside it and that we were not to question the mystery of how a whole underwater world could fit inside two inches of this pearlized creation.

My forever grinning toothless middle brother was the localized Dennis the menace, getting into scrapes which the two of us older siblings were brave and swift enough to run away from. Such as that memorable afternoon when Puschinka our Russian named dog of German origin (a dachsund!), who had turned wild from being tied up in the laundry area all day for many months, suddenly turned loose and decided to attack us taunting children. Titoy the toddler was left behind in the garden and survival instincts made him scamper up the huge caimito tree, unable to come down for what seemed like the entire afternoon. The two of us older ones watched excitedly but unalarmedly from the bedroom window, knowing parental help was just close by. It was an idyllic sibling relationship among us three -- a warm and secure one, punctuated every now and then by the ubiquitous quarrels that would pit two against one until my third brother Pancho grew up -- which then evened both sides. Pancho the London born baby was for us then still a non-entity. In the old Paranaque days, he was just a wrapped bundle held by our mom all day, almost part of her anatomy; for us two to five year olds, he simply had no meaning yet.

My memories of myself are that of a crying child, a painfully shy child. Beatriz the maid -- I had memories of her too -- was a dark shadow to reckon with, her right thumb and forefinger forever poised to give the unavoidable pinch when I cried too loud or too long. It was either a knuckle pinch, which was good, since it didn't hurt so much when a lot of flesh was scooped between the knuckle of one finger and the nail of the other, or the dreaded nail pinch, where both nails did the job. But that all seems like a very faded photograph now; what I do remember most was my extreme shyness at school. I was shy and scared of the tall white lady in the white robe and black veil. She was the nun at Maryknoll, where Jomie and I spent our pre-school years. Jomie, being the extrovert that I envied, was one of the Three Kings at Christmas time. I believe he was Baltazar the brown skinned one. I didn’t even have the courage to tell anyone my name during first day of school. I didn’t know how to talk to adults since as far as I was concerned, I had never seen one, except for Beatriz and my parents. The white lady had to look at my Tammy doll lunchbox where there was a dymo tape spelling out Ma. Luisa Francisco. I remember not having the courage to ask permission to go to the bathroom when I needed to, but what happened after was not very nice to remember.

(TO BE CONTINUED)

Changed the name of my blog from "Lost in Space" to "One Day at a Time" which is more appropriate, even in a literal sense. It is with a sense of relief that I am able to complete a day bearing the kind of pain that I carry, which, sorry for everyone reading this, will not merit an elaboration in this very public blog. Suffice it to say that I am surviving mentally, emotionally, spiritually and that is what is important. However it comes with a great amount of pain in my heart which I do not think I will ever get over. Perhaps later during the day I will post some poetry I wrote in 05 when I took that beautiful writing course under Tweetums Gonzalez. Or maybe I will post that auto biography I started a year ago..but never got beyond age 5. haha. more later...

Noticed my mysterious friend MD posted a comment, and I couldn't agree with him/her more. Today is really all we have and we shouldn't do any more of this 'self-flagellation' a lot of us are wont to do when we look back and try to imagine how 'things could have been'. Because 'things that could have been' would not have happened to begin with since other factors would have come into play to prevent it. Fatalistic? maybe. The important thing really is to be proud of everything that has happened to you and not make others make you feel guilty when they say it was your fault that this happened, coz you didn't do this or that... At that very moment, given the circumstances, your maturity (or lack of), your mental state, your intellectual capabilities and your emotions it was the very best decision you could have made, and if there were a replay, ...well...you would have done exactly the same thing.

Incidentally, I love the Tyra Banks show. It empowers me so much, and is the perfect way to start the day. I don't care if EVERYBODY just hates her to pieces and if they find her nakakadiri and baduy and pang masa and 'trying hard' -- i think she makes sense and I don't care if you call me shallow or what for appreciating her show.

more later.

Found this while surfing, can't remember where. must print out and post on my dressing table mirror as my mantra every morning...

When we learn something new, we see how it could have made our life better at an earlier time. We regret being stubborn, immature, or impulsive.

Now we see our mistakes in a new light and it hurts. This is one of the pains of change. Some people turn away from growth because they refuse to tolerate the pain of honest hindsight.

We need to face these regrets, but not indulge in them. We take a bow to the past and move on to live in the only place we can -- the present. We can acknowledge our guilt and remorse and then turn them over to the care of God.

We can't change the past, but we can learn from it. Healthy recovery means an ever-lighter load of regrets. Getting stuck in guilt over past deeds only repeats our mistakes by failing to use our learning today.

My Body My Friend

I give up. Budget presentation - postponed for the nth time. Final sked is on Feb.14 at 1:00pm. Now how did ATH and ETQ know I wouldn't have a lunch date on Valentine's? Or did they just assume? My crazy team wants to come in red this Wednesday. Sunday says he prefers to wear black as he is in mourning over not having a date. Oh well...Happy V day everyone.

My Body My Friend

by me, October 2005

My body – my shell, my mask, my refuge

But most of all my friend.

Forming layers that hide and protect the soul within

Behind whom I sought shelter from

Arrows that stung my heart

And gave her as burnt offering

To a loved one in the hope of

Possessing his soul.

Yet.. at what cost?

My body, my friend

And like all other deep friendships

Borne out of experiences that wound and scar,

One had to undergo the

Anguish of pain and regret,

Rejection and self blame

In order to realize

One’s beauty when left alone naked,

When layers are peeled at the right moment,

When the shell fuses with soul,

And understanding begins.

My body – my shell, my mask, my refuge

Now finally, my friend.

what a monday it's going to be. 12 meetings starting 9am, with the last one at 5pm. Last being the budget presentation infront of ATH and ETQ. for good luck, Henry will be with me throughout...as in dot noel "henry" shopper bag from holiday collection of kate spade. yipeee!!! Henry is my new acquisition and we are now inseparable. at least he should last a year, coz I won't be done paying for him till after 12 months..sigh..it was love at first sight and I couldn't let him go. spent sleepless nights thinking of him perched alone on that shelf in the KS store in Rockwell mall..so after I secured my 12-month installment PO from ETQ, off I went to pick him up to go on our first date. That's...Henry! I shall bring him with me to my meetings today... see his photo and admire his beauty...

My Sabrina Moment....

my claim to fame...the feature on 'how to achieve the smoky eyes look' with me as model finally came out in Feb issue of Working Mom. All my 16 yr old son could do was marvel at the wonders of technology and what photo shop is now able to achieve.
So if you want to see the un-me, grab a copy and turn to p. 27. quite frankly, I'm happier with the 'before' look.

Finally

ok, so I've started a blog, finally. Still haven't a clue what to write about, ergo "lost in space" ... maybe I should change that in the future as this takes shape. I am literally lost in space at the age of 40+, have gone through so much mid-life crises, I don't know which one of them really qualifies as crisis or even 'mid' as it's not one single point. I wonder who on earth will be interested in reading this blog. Anyway, let me treat it as some diary with a world wide audience so just in case I reach celebrity or mistress-of-a-famous-politician status within the next two decades (further than that would be depressing to think of), a lot of people can make money. My way of giving back, haha.