a new woman

it might take a lifetime to improve myself but today i renew my commitment. And this time, i will enjoy the process more. :) there will be a lot of challenging with my mind to transform the pains and struggles that come with the process into pleasure and love working in me. it's exciting how all these will lead to my being a better woman, sister, friend, partner, and citizen. Meanwhile, let me have my nails done.:)

salamat, Mr. Waiter! :)

how strange. it's a tame friday night for me -- no overconsumption, no raucous laughter, no typical start-of-the-weekend lawlessness. by choice, yes, proudly by choice, i am perched in this quaint eating place, and just spilling good, happy vibes. I believe it worked on the waiter who, although forbidden by management, gave me the restaurant's wifi password.
'atin-atin lang 'to, ma'am.'
Here's a big, fat, crisp tip for ya. :)

Moving on together

He has a girlfriend now, I just learned, one he must have met in his close Asian circles. I could tell by her smile and composure that the girl is the safe type, but still, of the gossamer-and-steel material that girlfriends are spun.

I realize that I am either steel or gossamer, and a successful meshing only happens when I feel the man is drifting away. So the spinning, then, is upon the push of an emergency button. I chuckle at the thought of, as he said, and as a good number of them said, “how interestingly unmanageable” I could get.

Somehow I am happy that he has gotten himself a girlfriend he deserves, he with the manager’s hands. But if Eve has to speak up, let me say that I feel lonely and overcome. Not because he is no longer sharing dreams with me. By our personalities and priorities and attraction, I have long resolved that we won’t be good together.

We are two slightly similar, good puzzle pieces that don’t have enough grooves to accommodate each other. I have moved on far, that the most I could imagine myself sharing with him is a cordial high-five.

I feel lonely then, and stupid and selfish and inconsiderate because I still held on to the assurance that we were going to move on at the same pace. How could I ever think that this was possible? He’s a hunter who declares his intention. I, on the other hand, agonizingly wait to be pried open, and that’s where Eve fails me.

Ohwell, this is a lesson in selfishness. Let him have his moment. Meanwhile, let me console myself with a work-related fundraising gala tomorrow, a wine appreciation event with poker friends, dinner with a soul-food-mate, Spanish films with a buddy, dvd marathons in Tan Tiu's new couch, and a hopefully, a chockfull of surprises from some friend.

But really now, I know by tomorrow, I won't be as dark as this. It must be that time of the month, or I just miss home so much.

Dumaguete

The boulevard at past-five or so
is a movie freed out of reels and frames:

A kalesa lithely trundles by
backlit and muscular, piercing through
the sunset that now yolks
the whole stretch of the scene, and seasons
your tapa.

You chug a beer, and chew, swallow, spit
chains of smoke and stories and tapa;

The English you hear is hardened with Bisaya,
coming in as patient subtitles
(with occasional pauses for translation,
transliteration, and grammatical confusion)
marrying German and Dutch with locals –

flirtation and proposals flutter
from bench to bench, bench to bar, table to table;
table to ear, lips to ear, lips to face
face to tongue, tongue to ear, ear to tongue.

Tongue to nape, nape to breath, breath to leg
nape to leg and toe and finger
finger to chest to hair to knee to waist and
hips

Until the unlit night wildly entangles the sequence
and the credits roll.

Jog and Smog

I haven’t jogged in a long time. I used to jog in a gated community on weekends near the dorm I stayed in. But there has been politically driven threats lately (how else would threats be driven?) that it was a bit dangerous to run around there, though it was heavily guarded. Too bad for the senior citizens who used to gather in the community’s little circle to do aerobics.

I also just moved in to a new place along a super highway that spares no lane for walking or smelling the flowers. Crazy motorists abound, and looking up, there is more smog than cloud. Sometimes, even when up in our cozy little unit turned away from the highway, my used astringent-soaked cotton ball would still remind me of the dark cloud that literally hangs above our heads. My cotton ball, an excellent mirroring of the freak of nature that is the metro smog.

The Unofficial Food Code

Some food have to be eaten a certain way.

The protocol on eating animal cookies is to chomp the head off first before the body.

You do Kitkat by letting your thumbnail run through the foil, then snap the candy bar off in the slit you made, and have a break.

Oreo cookies have to come with milk, otherwise you couldn’t do the twist, lick, dunk ritual.

You don’t just bite into the top of a grilled cheese sandwich and then work your way down. You bite from all sides and work towards the middle part. The best a half-eaten grilled cheese sandwich could look like is to have jagged sides as if it were attacked by a mouse.

Pizza is eaten with the fingers so spare the utensils—the spoon and fork is for the pasta, and the knife is for the veal.

The salt before your tequila has to be on that little flat stage you produce between the base of your pointer and your thumb when you clench your fist, with your thumb parallel your chest. Chugas ya.

Pan de sal fails to jumpstart breakfast if there’s no coffee (or milk or Milo) to dip it in.

I remember my brother once saying that when you’ve finished eating one side of a fish, you don’t flip fish over to the other fleshy side, but twist the bone and take it off.

Have a throaty “aaaahh” after gulping down Coke.

When eating pili nuts, don’t toss them in your mouth in batches like you would peanuts. As it takes a hundred years for pili nut trees to bear the nuts, it’s best to nibble into the pili experience, nut by nut.

What else could I think of? I’ll grow this list bebe.

List

It’s downtime. Let me put it to good use by listing things I wish to do. Hopefully, at least five of these would come true before 2011. The trick might work again, who knows. So here I am releasing my control over things, acknowledging that I am nothing, but that I am something in my nothingness, because I’m letting The Force take charge!

My short-term wishlist, dear Lord:

Discover. sing with Sagada natives, live in caves with tagbanuas in Palawan, and / or hang out with T’boli folk in Lake Sebu (and look for that old T’boli woman I met in Grade six). And when I come back to the cultural irreverence of the city, I wish to write them letters.

Revitalize. perfect my prayer-walking, and my meditation.

Sharpen. Re-learn Spanish and French where there are native speakers. French Guiana? Senegal? Togo? Sure, I’d love to go. (I’m nearly fluent in Bisaya already, thanks to Chong Hua and Cebu Doctors and Siomai sa Tisa)

Indulge. Draw, and paint, and walk, and eat pork everyday in Bali.

Earn. Sell recycled whatever with Vietnamese friends in a town two hours away from Ho Chi Min.

Bow down. Go to Brazil and see Christ the King and go to Ciudad de Dieux.

Aspire. Study Masters in Community Development, Social/Intercultu Communications, or Dressmaking.

Warm up. Buy a sandwich maker. (It has to be on the list because I don’t want useless spending otherwise they’d be trash).

Magnify. Contribute something significant at work, something that would help make us reach more people, more communities.

Conquer. Be a licensed Muro Ami. Or ok, for safety, a licensed SCUBA diver.

Invest. Acquire property by the beach (so, property could be a coconut tree, a chip off a rockscape, a rest house).

Love. Treat my mom to lotsa travel and pilgrimages and books and sugar-free chocolate.

Catch up. Find a copy of “Bienvenue Chez le Ch’tis” and all the Just for Laughs and Pinoy Meets World episodes (especially those with comedian hosts), and Travel and Living’s No Reservations, My Greek Kitchen, and Nigella Feasts episodes I missed.

Nurture. Learn how to farm vegetables. Tomatoes, lettuce, carrots, turnips, sigarilyas, sitaw, bataw, patani.

Simplify.Learn to document travels, Saturday walks, and things without a camera, only with writing.

Develop. Find a way to suggest a plan, or make known my vision for my beloved Bacolod City—that is, if my fellow Bacoleños agree with it, too.

Broaden. Search for hole-in-the-walls. Eating places, shops and such. I found the Solidaridad bookshop in Ermita. I found a Halal cafeteria by the Mosque in Quiapo.

Try. Okay, please afford me a little luxury from time to time, but strike lightning upon me if it already gets scandalous: Feast on a buffet of international cuisine at Sofitel’s Spiral. Or on chocolate buffet at the Shangri-La. Of course, not alone, but with my Mom, a brother, a sister-in-law, a niece, a cousin, or a Bacolod friend.

Befriend. Can I be an Erasmus student of communications or sociology?? Pretty pleeeaaase?
Please, whatever is meant for me at the right time, bring it on! My deepest, deepest Thank You.