Suddenly...

Literally

2006-05-03T07:16:00.000-07:00

is I think the most misused and abused word in the English language. Why do people think that in order to achieve full dramatic effect, they have to add 'literally' to whatever mundane thing they did that day, not realizing they're using it wrongly!

Just in the last week, I've heard the following:
"I literally died when he said that!"
"I literally gave him the shirt off my back!" (on TV!)
"She, li-te-ra-lly, was over the moon when she saw me!"

I literally barfed.

Back to Work

2006-03-09T10:38:00.000-08:00

I went back to work this week. It's not as difficult as I thought it would be. Although I miss my son very much, I have been busy catching up with the workload that before I know it, it's lunchtime or the end of the day. I go home during lunch to be with my son and express milk. I didn't want to do the latter here. Even if we have a private room adjoining to the womens' restroom, which I think the building's designers intended to be a nursing moms' room, I find it much of a hassle to bring the pump here and deal with ice packs.

I have been getting a lot of compliments with how I look. I love it because people who I usually don't shoot the breeze with come up to me just to pay me a compliment. The most common one is that I don't even look like I gave birth. One even asked if he was only imagining seeing me pregnant last year. The best compliment I got was that I look even better than before I got pregnant. Thank you boobies!

I must admit I'm also surprised I lost much of the weight really quickly, especially the tummy. Two weeks after giving birth I could already fit in my regular jeans, without doing anything. I now believe that breastfeeding is not only great for the baby, but for the mom as well. I thought that was just a marketing gimmick to get moms to breastfeed, hee hee. I'm sure another huge factor is the sleeplessness. Hey, I'll take raccoon eyes over a big paunch anytime!

Talking Myself Tired

2006-02-16T22:15:00.000-08:00

Yesterday was the first day I was away from my baby for most of the day. Shhh, I went for a job interview, or should I say, a marathon of interviews! I only found out I was going in for the interview the day before, at 5:00 pm via email! I was surprised to find eleven people on the roster. I was expecting four or five, or maybe go in for two or three days for eleven people. Furthermore, I just got eleven names, without job titles, so I didn't really know how to prepare for each. It wouldn't have mattered, since I didn't have time anyway. I figured I should just relax that night to be all fresh and calm the next day.

Which is easier said than done. Over the last twelve years, I've only gone on one job interview, and that didn't go over well. That plus the lack of time to prepare plus being away from work for six weeks plus having racoon eyes from the lack of sleep didn't give me much confidence. The only thing going for me is that it's my former manager who wanted to get me for this position so I have a major backer within the firm. Even so, the nerves taking over are making me rationalize that that may not be a good thing, since my former manager is relatively new to the company and the others may view this as bringing in a crony. Aaargh! I guess it's good I didn't have much time - less time for nervousness!

One thing I hated about the day was being away from my baby for a long time. Aside from missing him, I know the time away will wreak havoc on my breastfeeding. I wanted to bring a breast pump so I can pump during the lunch break, but I got a call from my former manager that she wanted to have lunch with me, so that's out.

So I went ahead with the interview, and I ended up talking with the following people from the company:
Director of Sales Operations
SVP of Finance
HR Director
CFO
VP of HR
SVP of Market Development
IT Director, Infrastructure
SVP of Customer Support
Director of Customer Support
Finance Controller
SVP of Maintenance Revenue and Sales Operations

Whew. The whole thing started at 9 and ended a little after 5. At the end of the day, I felt pretty good about how I did (and that it was over!) but man were my breasts sore and hurting like !@#$. They were engorged and hard as rocks, and I don't know how I managed to drive home in that condition. I didn't even dwell on the interviews, just literally aching to go home to my baby.

Out of all the interviewers, I'm most concerned with the Director of Customer Support. I don't know why but I was all nerves with this guy. I felt like I babbled unnecessarily and didn't give satisfactory replies. Oh well, if nothing else, at least I had a good albeit fast-track experience with the interview process. I'm sure I'll need it in the future.

Wish me luck!

Meet my Son!

2006-01-26T18:56:00.000-08:00

at 2 hours old

sunning at 3 days old to get rid of that dang bilirubin

just chillin' on my boppy

hangin' with a sea otter

:)

2006-01-10T22:13:00.000-08:00

Blue Crab Monday

2005-12-27T23:42:00.000-08:00

Last night I was busy working on my computer when suddenly, I heard my husband yell from the kitchen "Aaaah! Your crab's attacking my crab!". I went to see what the commotion's about and this is what I witness:

This made me laugh and suddenly hungry. I scooped up a big plate of steaming rice, made the sauces (Silver Swan soy sauce and Datu Puti vinegar with lemon for me, garlic butter for hubby) and we started to attack the crabs ourselves. Oh boy, this crab was the fattest and meatiest crab I've ever had in my life. I didn't even finish one, which is very rare for me.

In unrelated news, I'm sad to see Monday Night Football end. I've had a lot of good times watching it with my husband and/or friends, including while eating the crab last night. I have never liked watching ESPN so I'm sure I won't follow it there. It just isn't the same.

"Turn out the lights, the party's over."

Merry Christmas to All!

2005-12-24T18:32:00.000-08:00

Gifts for the Wee One

2005-12-15T16:24:00.000-08:00

As early as three months ago, I have been receiving gifts from friends for my coming baby. These were mostly from former co-workers in the Philippines who sent cute baby stuff to colleagues travelling here.

Twice lately, I have come in to work with a package on my desk. Since it's addressed to me and my husband, not to mention it being wrapped in cute baby wrapper, I can only assume that it's for the baby, so I'll bring it home and open it together with my hubby.

We have purchased most of the basic things that we will need for the baby - crib, dresser, sheets, bassinet, 2 car seats, 2 strollers, swing, high chair, etc. Since my baby shower is coming up, I hurriedly had to put up baby registries. My hubby, who is old-fashioned, doesn't like the idea of signing up for registries. I must admit I felt the same way when I first arrived here in the States, but now I see the practicality of it. When I'm on the other side and the one buying a present, I do like to have a list of things to choose so I'm sure I'm giving something needed and not a duplicate. So, I promised to him that I will pick simple and not extravagant stuff. Pretty soon he was helping me choose items, starting to get excited with all the cuteness.

The day after I put up my baby registry, I was surprised to see that three items have been bought from it already, and the invitations to my baby shower haven't even been sent! I started panicking because I haven't really given it much thought and just picked items that other gift registrants seemed to like. The amount of choices is overwhelming! In any case, it's so heartwarming to think that someone's thinking of my baby without being reminded.

Last night, I received this in the mail from my brother-in-law in Boise:

Again, I was touched with the thought. To friends reading this, please don't take this post as an attempt to solicit a gift :) I would honestly prefer prayers for a healthy baby and safe (and as painless as possible!) delivery of my very own gift.

Next To Go

2005-12-09T13:36:00.000-08:00

We're still trying to get rid of stuff to make room for our new arrival. Here were the next things to go:

These were difficult for me again because these were gifts from an ex. Although I haven't used it in years since I bought a digital piano when I got married, I've had many fond memories with the keyboard. I used to lug that around (hence the hardcase, the stand and the bench) at parties and play for my friends and family. "Name that Tune" was a staple at our family parties!

I remember how my ex hand-carried the keyboard (and the hardcase on another trip) coast to coast because he knew I was getting bored being all alone in my apartment. In a way, these were my last link to him.

Instead of selling these at craigslist, my husband and I decided to donate them to my stepson's school's music department. We believe more people will benefit from them there than anywhere else. The music coordinator was very grateful, and I'm glad I've found a good home for these things I held dearly.

Next up - a Panasonic TV and stand.

Do You Know the Way to San Jose?

2005-11-29T16:06:00.000-08:00

Hmm, I think I've used that title before. For those who aren't familiar with the line, it's also a title of a 70's tune made famous by Dionne Warwick.

I'm pretty proud of the city in which I live. It has been voted as the safest big city for the fifth year in a row by Morgan Quitno Press, a Kansas research firm that has been compiling the safest and most dangerous cities lists since 1995. Big is qualified as having a population of 500,000 or more, and with San Jo's 944,522 residents it sure belongs to the list.

What strikes me more in this study is that there are three Texas cities on the 10 safest (El Paso - 2nd, Austin - 5th, San Antonio - 8th and Fort Worth - 9th) and two among the most dangerous (Dallas - 5th, Houston - 9th). I guess everything's really big in Texas.

On the same week, San Jose was also voted as the second (or third, I'm not sure because I just heard it on Good Morning America) healthiest city for women by Self Magazine. Amazingly, San Francisco with all its health nuts only came in ninth in this particular study.

Ironically, I've been sick as a dog the past two weeks. I was so upset because I've finally taken steps to become healthier on my third trimester - walking with hubby in the morning and spending 20 minutes on the elliptical trainer at night. I think there was no escaping this sickness because a slew of people were sick at our work the prior weeks. I wish people would stay home when they're sick. Despite my attempts to take precautions - inducing gallons of OJ and other fluids, washing my hands all the time and staying away from sick people, the bug caught me good. After two weeks of coughing, my rib cage felt like I fell down a flight of stairs, or got beaten up by two men. The slightest movement hurt, and subsequent coughs or sneezes brought me pain. The baby's been a trooper through all this. I feel guilty about taking medication, even if they're deemed safe for pregnancy, but I also felt that not easing the coughing will be harder on him.

Further, I haven't had a chance to visit my newest niece (or cousin once-removed for folks here in the States) - Keira Christina. I have been looking forward to her birth and now I must patiently wait and ensure I'm fully well before I see her. Too bad I couldn't resist reading about the pain of childbirth in my cousin's blog. Oh well, after the pain of the last two weeks, all I can say is bring it on!

SOX Sux!

2005-11-22T13:42:00.000-08:00

I have been sick the past week, coughing and hacking away at everything and everyone. At first I was really worried for the baby, I think I was getting more stressed over what I'm doing to him rather than how I felt. For the first four days, I tried my best not to take any medication, toughing it out with gallons of OJ and water. After that, I couldn't take it anymore, and was getting worried about the effect of my all-night coughing to the baby that I took the over-the-counter medications that were considered safe: Tylenol Cough and Sore Throat and Robitussin DM (not together).

Due to this, I missed two days of work last week. This Thanksgiving week, our company is supposed to be shut down for the whole week, but some people in our department were "asked" to come in to finish our Sarbanes Oxley (SOX) internal audits. Is anybody else going through the pain of SOX? This has got to be the most useless, time-wasting ~~crap~~ process ever brought about by man. A friend of mine who has recently attended a graduation where the guest speaker was Senator Oxley said that in his speech, Sen. Oxley admitted that they realize this law ~~wastes~~ takes a lot of time and money and has caused some smaller companies to go bankrupt. One thing's for sure, neither Sarbanes nor Oxley would win any popularity award anytime soon.

So here I am, still coughing continuously, performing inane tests and audits for processes I have no involvement with. I just look at the bright side that I'm saving my vacation days, which will be especially useful when I go on maternity leave.

Speaking of bright sides, one external auditor I just met this week started to visit my office regularly. In the beginning he was asking for legitimate requirements but by the end of the first day he was teasing me a lot by asking for impossible things, getting my business card for every visit and chatting about movies and TV, while he's curt and strictly professional with others. Even my co-worker asked me pointblank "Why is the auditor flirting with you?" I said I don't know, maybe he likes pregnant women. My co-worker then peered at me and then said "Wait, he doesn't know you're pregnant!" I said that was silly for I look and feel like a whale. The next time he visited, I got out of my chair and faced him with my belly. Sure enough, he had this shocked expression on his face - he didn't know! I told my co-worker later on and we had a good laugh over this.

Just Stuff

2005-11-11T12:05:00.000-08:00

This past week, to make room for the baby, we've had to get rid of this:

and this:

Although they are just "stuff", I am saddened by this. I used to run on that treadmill for an hour four times a week. It was the one thing I can count on when I feel I have to lose a few pounds. I loved my early morning run while watching Good Morning America on mute and listening to the headphones of the tiny radio strapped on my arm. That was my "me" time, when my family knows that I cannot be bothered and I won't stop for anything - not visitors, not phone calls. I remember the only time I cut my run short was on the morning of September 11, 2001, when I saw that plane hit the second World Trade Center tower, and my feet just instinctively jumped at the sides of the treadmill, while I was riveted at the news and found myself just watching the TV for the rest of the morning.

The foosball table was my Christmas gift to my sson a few years back. I remember how much fun my hubby and I had assembling it (no kidding), and how we futilely tried to wrap it, putting a big golden bow on top. And I'll never forget my sson's face as he saw the big blob of a Christmas wrapper, probably not knowing what's in it but his eyes widened just the same as he figured something that big must be good!

They both went fast at craigslist. We had a phone call 20 minutes after my husband listed the treadmill, and the foosball was picked up the day after it listed. I jokingly asked my husband - what else can we sell around the house?

Actually, this would be next:

I'm still using it for now as I've finally started exercising on my third trimester, and since it's the only type of exercise (aside from walking) I can handle.

So it's time to say goodbye to stuff, to be replaced with new stuff, to welcome the most important thing that will keep me occupied for a long, long time.

Happy Halloween!

2005-10-31T12:06:00.000-08:00

Last Friday, our company celebrated Halloween with a BBQ feast, costume contest and pumpkin-carving contest.

I didn't dress up this time, because I didn't feel like it. My husband suggested I come as a nun (we have matching priest and nun outfits), which would actually be cute because of my pregnant self, but I was afraid to raise some eyebrows. I just partook in the tri-tip, lots of yummy salads and treats during lunch. I also posed with the General Manager of our Philippine plant who was visiting and my boss (who'll be leaving in a week, sob):

That's me looking all puffy at 27 weeks, with two of my mentors.

This was my favorite pumpkin, although it didn't win (we suspect the judging was fixed):

Kattie who did this kitty took five hours to carve this work of art.

Too bad my stepson got braces this year and cannot have candy, and is therefore not going trick or treating tonight. I always benefit from his loot :)

Happy halloween everyone! May you get all the candy you like! (I'll have to make do with any leftovers we get from the candy we're giving out tonight)

I Usually Don't Like Eagles, Especially the Blue Kind

2005-10-26T13:52:00.000-07:00

About a week ago, my hubby and I saw the Eagles in concert - their California Tour. This was my Father's Day present to my husband last June because I know he loves the Eagles. Although I'm familiar with them, walking into the arena I wasn't expecting to be totally blown away, as I was three and a half hours later walking out.

I am a big fan of Don Henley, so I thought I would at least enjoy his bits. To my amazement, I knew almost every song they sang, including some that made me go "Oh, I didn't know that's theirs!" like I Can't Tell You Why and Love Will Keep Us Alive. The whole night was chock-ful of hits, including Don Henley's, Glenn Frey's and Joe Walsh's hits as solo artists so the night had a lot of added bonus.

My only disappointment was that they didn't sing Heart of the Matter, my all-time favorite Don Henley song. Nonetheless, I enjoyed myself fully, singing along with the songs. All in all they played 29 songs, with Hotel California, Rocky Mountain High, All She Wants to do is Dance, Already Gone and my husband's personal favorite, Desperado as their encores. Glancing at my husband all throughout the show, I can tell he's having a great time too.

Later on, he said that they sound exactly the same as they did thirty years ago. I'm pretty sure that's a good thing, because they sure gained a new fan out of me!

For the First Time in My Life

2005-10-13T12:56:00.000-07:00

1. I have super-layered hair.
2. I'm fat and ugly, and I don't care.
3. I've nixed coffee and soda from my diet.
4. I love waking up every morning.
5. I have big boobs.
6. I'm extremely careful when driving.
7. I'm drinking milk everyday.
8. Did I tell you I have big boobs?
9. I'm seriously thinking of a career change.
10. I'm looking forward to December not just because it's Christmastime.

The Good, The Bad and the Ugly

2005-10-10T12:06:00.000-07:00

The Good

Two weeks ago, the support groups in our company (Finance, IT, HR and Purchasing) had a Cape Cod Lobster Boil at our Finance Controller's backyard. A lobster boil is basically a huge pot where you drop in lobsters, crabs, shrimp, sausages, potatoes, corn and all kinds of seasonings. The house was beautiful, the company great, the food scrumptious! Here are some pictures.

We had a great time feasting, chatting and laughing. I had a waldorf salad, lobster, half of a crab and a corn on the cob. After lunch we played bocce ball. Our team lost, but for consolation prizes for everyone, we got to bring home a scarecrow.

The Bad

The following day, Saturday, I woke up to a nasty stomach pain. I realized I had diarrhea, but a couple of trips to the bathroom the pain was still there. I'm pretty sure I got a case of food poisoning. Aside from feeling crappy (pardon the pun), I was so bummed out because it rendered most of my weekend useless. I missed my stepson's soccer game, a friend's birthday lunch, and some pre-scheduled shopping trips.

Of course I kicked myself about this. I knew I wasn't supposed to eat anything raw, which I didn't but I didn't think seafood won't hurt me. I enjoyed the lobster so much I even partook of the head and all the juice!

The Ugly

Waking up on Sunday with the pain still there, albeit less pronounced, I started to worry about my baby. What if I'm passing on the bad stuff to him? I start to panic and cry and decide to go to the emergency room, but my husband reassures me that the baby is not being harmed. I'm only passing good nutrients to him. I try to stay positive and was additionally reassured of his continuous kicking, but I can't help but worry. I don't think I've been this sick from food this long in the past.

The Beautiful

In my delirious stupor of combined worry, pain and angst, I suddenly thought of the song "I'd Give My Life For You" from the musical Miss Saigon. I used to love to sing that all the time (more than "Sun and Moon"). This time however, the song took on an entirely different meaning for me. I found myself praying to God that if anything happens, to spare my boy and take me instead. This might be overly dramatic, but, this was such a revelation to me! I have never been this unselfish in my life and I haven't even met this boy. At that point, though, I swore with all certainty that I'd give my life for him.

You will be who you want to be
You, can choose whatever heaven grants
As long as you can have your chance
I swear i'll give my life for you

Gone to the Bright Side

2005-09-26T11:26:00.000-07:00

I finally did it! The last straw was this stupid WinFixer spyware that infested my home PC. I usually ignore crawlers and popups and my anti-virus normally catches these buggers, but this dang WinFixer is persistent and incredibly annoying! So I did it.

I switched to Mozilla Firefox.

Unfortunately, we have a lot of applications at work that only work on IE. So I'm in mixed mode at work, but careful to set my default browser to Firefox so I can't get anything unwelcome from external sources.

My only problem with Firefox is that sometimes, I want to print out only a part of the content in the browser. I did this in IE a lot - select the text I want to print, right-click, then print just the selection. I can't figure out how to do this with Firefox. Does anybody know? Appreciate your help!

I haven't explored all the Mozilla plug-ins and I'm excited to. I also found out that my site looks bad in Firefox (sorry!). I'm not going to fix this now since I'm planning to convert to WordPress, hopefully really soon (please bear with me).

Reconcile This

2005-09-20T19:19:00.000-07:00

Twice a month, I serve as a lector at our church. A lector is the person who reads the first and second readings, as well as joins the priest and altar servers in the opening procession. Last Sunday, however, I was assigned as a commentator. Due to the hurricane Katrina tragedy, there was an unusually long list of petitions, plus an equally long list of announcements at the end of the mass. I didn't mind this at all. In fact, I like the practice, to get me more and more comfortable speaking in front of a large audience.

At the end of the mass, I asked my husband how I did. He said very well, I enunciated clearly, paused at the right times, made eye-contact with the audience. Everything was great except for one thing...

"What?" I asked.

"Well, there's this word you mispronounced, and unfortunately, it was in almost every line of the petitions."

Of course this bothered me, and I asked him what word it was.

He answered. "Reconciliation. You kept saying reCONciliation, when it should be REconciliation. The first time's okay, but after the seventh time, I started to cringe."

I was so embarrassed. I did say 'reconciliation' many times, because the petitions were all about it. I just hope 'hippopotamus' will never be in the readings in the future.

On a brighter note, last Friday was my brother's birthday. Yesterday, I asked him to pick up a package for our mom which I sent through a colleague of mine who went home to the Philippines. He goes to our Philippine plant, meet my colleague, who hands him this:

On his way to work, he calls me up, and says "I got the package. Is this really for Mama?"

I just say "Happy birthday!"

He loves it! He said he was just drooling over one at a mall during the weekend. I'm so happy he's happy!

There Should Be a Seminar on Seminars

2005-09-14T16:12:00.000-07:00

Yesterday, I attended a Coaching and Teambuilding for Managers seminar conducted by Skillpath with a colleague from work.

I must be getting jaded from all these seminars but I found this particular one to be a big waste of time. It was actually a never-ending sales pitch for their books and CD-roms camouflaged in a lot of hooey talk about leadership and silly pointless exercises. Since my company paid good money for it, I still wholeheartedly participated and contributed to the discussions. I was even a sucker since I ended up buying one of the books, The Leadership Challenge, but only because it was written by Barry Posner, the Dean of the Leavey School of Business in Santa Clara University where I got my MBA. Barry is the type of dean who was friends with everyone, engaging in chit-chat down the corridors and even having lunch with students every now and then. I was curious to see his writing style, which I haven't been an audience to beyond his newletters.

There is this one seminar (actually a six-month or year-long series of seminars) that I truly learned a lot from and has definitely influenced me. It's the Women Unlimited, a truly unique program that molds and mentors women managers into confident, self-assured and mature executives. If your company supports these types of programs I highly encourage you to pursue this opportunity, it will be a very positive experience in both your professional and personal life. A plus is the vast network of women I gained from the experience, whom I am still in touch with to this day.

In any case, I will avoid any seminar from Skillpath from now on. The one cool thing about yesterday - the hotel had a whiz-bang vending machine that had all kinds of cool stuff - including an iPod! So I purchased a bag of Pepperidge Farm cookies with my credit card, fervently hoping that the electronic arm will mistakenly grab the iPod instead.

It's pretty sad when the highlight of your seminar is the venue's vending machine.

Innocence Lost

2005-09-07T18:27:00.000-07:00

When I logged into Gmail today, one of my new emails is a reply to an entry of mine in 43things. Although I've been neglecting it lately (like this blog), I love that site and welcome all the emails I receive from it. Usually it's a request to send a Gmail invite, which I would gladly grant, but sometimes it's a comment or reply to an entry of mine which I always looked forward to.

With a smile I open the email and see that someone replied to my entry on my goal of watching a Raiders game live. I quickly read his reply:

Have sex with vangie
--------------------
i would like to meetup with her and have sex alnite.

Great. Why does a creep with too much time on his hands have to ruin an otherwise wonderful site like 43things? I know most popular sites will eventually fall victim to spammers and weirdos, and I've been seeing some adult content on 43things, but I was kinda hoping 43things will remain the encouraging, inspiring and innocent site that it was when I first signed up you know?

What's disturbing is when I clicked on this guy's account, he only has 1 thing he likes to do:

have sex with vangie that posted here 24 weeks ago

Sorry dude. Go get your kicks somewhere else.

Gimmicks

2005-08-26T18:50:00.000-07:00

In the Philippines, we call an excursion, a night-out, or any outing that has the promise of a fun time ahead a "gimmick". Well, at least we did so a decade ago. Since the Filipino slang evolves faster than you can say "jolog", I'm not so sure if that word is still used in that manner.

For the past weeks, I have had an excuse to embark on several gimmicks because we have guests from our Philippine plant. Due to the major reorganization going on in our company, they have been sending engineers and technicians to get trained here in headquarters. We have three visitors who are all here in the United States for the first time, so I thought I'd show them some of the sights. Here are some of the places we went to, in pictures!

17 Mile Drive in Monterey

Harbor boats in Santa Cruz

By the pool in Pebble Beach Golf Club

By the Lone Cypress, the logo of Pebble Beach

Still by the Lone Cypress with hubby

Rommel at the Bird Rock, one of the stops at the 17-mile drive

Monterey Bay Aquarium

Some pretty fish

By one of the many aquariums

The penguins that were not marching

One of the many birds, yes birds, at the aquarium

Lizeth behind the fish tank

Having dinner at the end of Fisherman's Wharf

My Birthday Dimsum Lunch

That's hubby on my right

Some guys from Product Engineering

Manuel, Lizeth, Nomie and Rommel

Chen, the one standing, organized this lunch. Norm, our Senior VP (2nd guy from right), paid for all of it. Thanks guys!

San Jose Giants Game

The pitchers...

The batters...

At the stands (Dante, Rommel and Lizeth)

Enjoying cheesesteaks and tri-tips while watching the game

4

2005-08-20T13:15:00.000-07:00

Four has always been my favorite number. I like its evenness, which feels more stable than two.

Anyway, I'm four months along in my pregnancy. The other day, I went for my amniocentesis. This is the exam where they find out if the baby has any chromosomal defects such as Down's syndrome. For the exam, I had to undergo an ultrasound first to determine the best area in my tummy to draw the amniotic fluid from.

Prior to the ultrasound, the technician, Buffy, warned us that, although early, the gender of the baby might show in the ultrasound. Thus she wanted to know if we would like to find that out or not. Is she kidding? I've been dying to know! I emphatically nodded yes and she started the procedure.

Because my belly has not been growing these past months, I have been worrying a lot lately. Add to that the absence of usual pregnancy symptoms such as morning sickness and cravings, and the well-meaning concern from friends if I'm eating enough or taking good care of myself. However, the first sight of the baby inside me melted all those worries away:

The baby had the back of its hand on its forehead, as if saying "Oh! Why are you guys poking me? I just want to be left alone!" Buffy, my husband and I laughed at this. Then Buffy said "We'll just pretend that it's waving hello to us."

Buffy then had to look at all angles - the top of the head, the side, the back, etc. When she turned to the bottom of the baby, we saw its legs in a U position, and then she smiled.

"Uh-oh, he's not very modest. He's proudly showing himself to us!"

I focused on the screen on sure enough, I saw a tiny triangle in between the legs. At this point, I couldn't help but cry. I know millions of mothers have gone through this, but it just made it so real for me.

I hope he doesn't get mad at me later on for showing his privates to the world

She typed "BOY" on the screen, and I asked "Are you sure?" She goes, "We're not supposed to say we're 100% certain, but yeah, that sure looks like a he."

My husband and I were laughing (and yeah, I was still crying) at this point. Buffy scanned more angles and took measurements of the baby's head and his arm to determine his age. Then she took more snapshots, including that of his toes - his beautiful toes!

After the ultrasound the doctor came in for the amniocentesis proper. Dr. Crites did some more ultrasounds on me to make sure that they find the optimal spot. Then she, assisted by Buffy and two other aides, quickly poked me with the needle on the left side of my belly, as far away from the baby as possible. The doctor was so good in explaining to me what was going to happen or what is happening, and she was surprised that I wasn't bothered by the needle at all. What she didn't know was I grew up with asthma and had to have weekly shots for years to get rid of my allergies causing it. In any case, since the baby was cooperating (while he was constantly moving around during the ultrasound, he stayed away from the needle during the amnio) and I was doing a god job of relaxing while they were drawing the fluid, the process took half the time she said it would.

After she took the needle out, they perform another ultrasound and he looks fine, with the back of his hand on his forehead again as if saying "There, you got what you want, now leave me alone!"

I'm beyond excited! Even though we won't find out the results of the amniocentesis until two weeks from now, I'm so happy to see my baby again, and he looks great! I don't worry about my small tummy or lack of symptoms any longer, I just touch my belly and I know my son's right there, hand on forehead or not.

The Pieces of My Puzzle

2005-08-14T15:33:00.000-07:00

I wasn't planning on writing a birthday post, but...

After a full and tiring day on Monterey's 17-Mile Drive and the Monterery Bay Aquarium, hubby and I dropped my friends from the Philippines at their hotel and got home at around ten and I crashed on the couch.

I woke up at 12:30 am, half an hour into my birthday, to the smell of my favorite brownies baking (my hubby's first birthday treat for me), and saw this:

It's my husband and mom working on this:

This is what they're trying to achieve:

And they have this much to go:

I don't know why but I was flooded with happiness at this sight. I am so happy and grateful to be with the two people I love most in this world on my birthday.

No, I didn't join and help them on the puzzle (it's a very difficult puzzle), I just grabbed a brownie and milk and gave them moral support.

Overwhelmed

2005-08-10T17:14:00.000-07:00

With work. With laziness. With tiredness.

I'm sorry I've been neglecting this blog lately. I have been meaning to post about many things - trip to LA, trip to Tahoe, progress on the baby front, etc. but just can't get myself to start. I don't know why but when I get home from work, all I want to do is crash on the couch, intending to go online later, and before I know it, my husband's waking me up to retreat upstairs to go to sleep.

Well, I partly know why. A lot of people are telling me it's a pregnancy symptom. I guess I should be grateful because this is the only symptom I do feel (I don't even feel pregnant - my belly's still flat). But as I've been telling friends, I'd rather be sick (only once in a while) and I do want to have food cravings, instead of feeling tired and lazy. I hate it when I've wasted the night away!

Anyhoo, I just wanted to apologize for the "absence". Not only have I been neglecting this, I've been missing my favorite blogs! I still haven't found a rhythm in regularly writing and catching up on reading. I think I'm getting tired of my template. Yes, I've been meaning to switch to WordPress (for about 6 months now) but I can't decide on what domain name to get. Any suggestions?

I have also replied to your comments (I truly, truly appreciate them!). Since I have a freebie system, I don't get notified of new comments so I hope I haven't missed any new ones you've written in some old posts.

Something more substantial here soon, I promise.

Spa Day Fun Day

2005-08-04T12:31:00.000-07:00

A few weeks ago, I joined my cousins and their cousins for a girl's day/night out. They do this regularly and this is my first time to join them. We started the outing with various treatments at the Burke Williams spa in Santana Row. I had a milk bath and an 80-minute pregnancy massage. The milk bath was nothing special but the massage was wonderful. I was falling asleep when suddenly I hear the chimes signalling the end of the session. Darn.

At around 1 pm everyone has finished their treatments, showered and primped, and we took this picture at the lounge area of the spa:

Do we look refreshed?

Next we had lunch at The Village Cafe, where everyone tried to eat healthy (I had a calamari salad) but cannot resist the garlic fries. Since all the other girls were either new moms, pregnant or both, I had a great time hearing stories and tips on what to expect from pregnancy and babies! Before we knew it it was almost 3 pm and we had dinner reservations at 6!

We strolled for a bit, checked out a couple of shops and then settled into their room at Hotel Valencia, still in Santana Row (four of the girls were spending the night there). We talked about everything - babies (of course!), in-laws, blogs, TomKat, Brangelina, Aerobeds and more. I love catching up with their respective families since I don't always see them. Pretty soon it was time to go to our dinner so we headed out.

Dinner was at a Vietnamese restaurant called Tamarine in Palo Alto. I realized why the girls have been so excited for it - the food was excellent! (If you visit me here I will take you there!) We ordered just about all of their small plates, and spent the next couple of hours savoring the tasty and lavishly-prepared food. Although it seemed that we ordered too much, we practically finished most of the plates. Afterwards we ordered all of their desserts, most of which were so exotic and I haven't seen before. After tasting everything, we picked our favorites and were amused at how the pregnant ladies opted for the same thing which the others didn't really care for.

Outside the restaurant we took more shots:

And the pregnant ladies:

That was an awesome day! Too bad I wouldn't be able to join them at the hotel (I promised my hubby I'd be home), for I'm sure there was more fun and laughter in store. I'm looking forward to the next girl's day out!

I Just Wish He/She'll Have His Nose

2005-07-24T00:31:00.000-07:00

A lot of people who know my husband and I, or even those whom we just met and find out that we're pregnant, tell us that we're going to have a cute baby. Somehow, children of mixed-race marriages turn out to be this beautiful blend of the two races, such that people just assume this to happen everytime. I must admit I too, grew up with the same observation. Heck, even the lady who did my make up on my wedding day, upon finding out that my husband is Caucasian [never mind that she's never seen him], cooed, "Oh! You're going to have a cute baby!"

Don't they know what kind of pressure this puts on us?!?! What if our baby will not be cute and beautiful? Worse, what if he/she turns out to have a face only a mother can love, like the one in that Seinfeld episode? That's enough to want me to add good looks to my regular prayer of good health for the baby!

I know, if that does happen, I will just turn to another commonly-held belief, that ugly babies turn out to be beautiful adults.

And don't you dare tell me otherwise!

Flick Me!

2005-07-20T16:48:00.000-07:00

I got the movie baton from this sweet girl.

Total number of films I own on DVD and video: VHS, 0. DVD, around 30. Pero yung kopya, sangkatutak (wag ninyo akong isumbong ha).

The last film I bought: Band of Brothers (as a present to my father-in-law). For myself, Triumph, the Insult Comic Dog.

Five films that I watch a lot and/or mean a lot to me:
My Best Friend's Wedding
Godfather I & II
Identity
The Usual Suspects
Dodgeball

Whom I am passing the baton to: you! do it. doooo it. DOOOO IT!

A Touch of Pink

2005-07-18T12:06:00.000-07:00

The other day, Vicki from work came by my office, looked me from head to toe, said "That'll do" and asked me to follow her. We go out to the patio where three other girls were chatting. Vicki whips out a camera, hands it to one of the guys smoking outside, and asks if he could take a picture of us ladies. I suddenly realized everyone was wearing black and white. I begged off, saying I was wearing a little pink and would ruin the picture. Plus everyone was blonde! They laughed and persuaded me to join them so it resulted to this:

Cindy, Henni, moi, Vicki and Debbie

What a silly thing to do, but it was a nice break from work.

R&R

2005-07-13T18:49:00.000-07:00

In a post regarding stress and de-stressing, Junnie tagged his readers with the following question:

What are the things you enjoy, even when no one around you wants to go out and play?

Hmmm, a ponderous question indeed. My life has become so routine that I can't exactly tell what I do for pure enjoyment and what I do "just because". I guess what I'm trying to say is I'm not stressed, in general. I tend to do what I want. It helps to have a wonderful husband - one who would put up with a lot of my foibles.

So, here are the things I enjoy, in no particular order.

I love playing the piano. Just two days ago, I got the Stevie Wonder anthology and Earth, Wind and Fire songbooks I ordered from sheetmusicplus.com. I was so excited that even though I was exhausted from a roadtrip to LA, I hurriedly ripped the package and started playing. Nothing like the cool melody of Knocks Me Off My Feet and finally being able to play one of my most-favorite songs, As, to take away the soreness of sitting in the car for too long.

I'm a TV-holic. There, I said it. And the ReplayTV is my pimp who keeps me supplied with my drugs of choice, even in this lean summer season of reruns. Jeopardy, Will & Grace, King of Queens, Judge Judy, Conan, MadTV, Rescue Me, The Daily Show. And yes, I have my guilty pleasures too - Oprah, Big Brother and Cheaters.

I read. Surprisingly, I still have time left to read actual books. Although my current carry-everywhere is What to Expect When You're Expecting, I have about six unfinished books, including Blink, Ellen de Generes, Eats, Shoots and Leaves and Me Talk Pretty One Day. I love reading blogs too. I have yet to find a system to do this faster and more efficiently, I still tend to get lost in links!

I cook. Just kidding.

I play with my family. We swim, play Monopoly, Catchprase, scrabble, the animal game (something we invented) or just goof around. I prefer it if stepson has a friend over so no one's ganging up on someone (the boys tend to pick on me).

I play games like this.

In his comments box, he asks further:

What about you? What lowers your stress/blood pressure/anxiety level?

Aside from the above? This weekend, I'm going with my cousins to a spa to luxuriate in a milk bath and an 80-minute pregnancy massage. I think that'll do the trick!

Picnic at Pebble

2005-07-05T20:36:00.000-07:00

This is a picture-intensive post so please be patient as they load. (I really need to start using my Flickr)

As a cop-out to writing something meaty at this busy time, I would like to share with you pictures from the 4th of July picnic we attended at the Pebble Beach Country Club with my hubby's family.

Picnic getting started

Our family's table

Second half of family table

My nieces

Tables on the dock with the games at the end

Strollers on the beach

View of the picnic from the beach

The poolside part of the picnic

I saw George Lopez (who is my in-laws' neighbor) and I unabashedly asked if he'll pose with me (4 years ago, I ran into Clint Eastwood at the same party, too bad I didn't have a camera then)

Inside the clubhouse (where usually the older people prefer to stay)

People were still golfing outside

Bingo for kids

Stepson climbing the dinosaur wall

Ring toss

The ever-present hula-hoop contest

The kids' version of the pie-eating contest

My stepson with pie all over his face

Dancing with my stepson

White people trying to dance

Drunk white people trying to dance (actually my sis-in-law taking the song "Shout" a little too seriously)

9 1/2 Weeks

2005-06-30T00:05:00.000-07:00

I had a doctor's appointment today. My stepson was so excited about this - he woke up at six, took a shower, then woke us up to remind us that we're going to the doctor. Yep, he wanted to come with me to the doctor.

At the doctor's I went through the usual height, weight and blood pressure measurements, then waited in the examination room. The doctor arrives and asks me the usual questions, then begins to examine me.

She tries to look for a heartbeat but, after about five minutes of probing, couldn't find any. I can sense that she's starting to worry, and so is my husband. She asks me if I'm sure of my last day of menstrual period, and I said positive, but I am not regular. "That explains it," she says and excuses herself to get the ultrasound equipment.

After prodding me with the ultrasound wand, my husband and I get our first glimpse of our baby:

The second picture made us laugh because the baby was moving its tiny limbs like crazy. The doctor said it's happy in there. The doctor pointed to us a plus-like object in the middle that was flashing, and says "See? That's the heartbeat right there. Everything looks great!" I was speechless as I watched his/her heart beating away. When she measured the baby on the screen, it confirms what we thought - we miscalculated the age, the baby's younger than we thought.

I'm nine and a half weeks pregnant.

After the consultation we stepped out of the doctor's office to find my stepson with a sad face. He thought we were going to call him in so he can see if he'll have a baby brother or baby sister. I told him we won't know the gender for at least a couple more months. To cheer him up, I said he could help us name the baby once we do know. He had this wide smile on his face, but made us laugh when he said "okay, I'll wait until we see if the baby's white or brown, so I can give a fitting name."

We're being really careful and restrained, especially after the last time. I know that I'm not out of the woods yet, but I'm so happy I can't hold it in. I want to shout it out and celebrate this baby!

Please include us in your prayers.

Colorful Past

2005-06-22T13:34:00.000-07:00

I embarked on some spring cleaning a couple of weeks ago and started filling out huge trash bags with clothing for disposal or Goodwill. As I was rummaging through the back of my closet, I came across this:

I can't believe it! This has been my favorite jacket through the years. This is also probably the last remaining article of clothing that I have brought when I moved here from Manila nine years ago.

I used to love this jacket. Now I realize it's hideous, loud and outdated. No matter, I found myself clutching it close to me and sitting on my bed while the memories came rushing back. I have worn this from the time I was with my first boyfriend up until I got married. Here in the States, I have been stopped several times by girls asking where I purchased it. I don't really remember. I somehow think it's from my Mom (as most everything I own was) and that it came from Singapore. I have a friend who would borrow it all the time. Aside from liking its unique look, I also loved how it is perfect for almost any weather – not too thick and heavy and not too light and flimsy. Because of the plethora of colors (my husband used to kid that a kaleidoscope must have thrown up on me), I found that I could wear it with anything. And wear it I did! Those of you who know me have most probably seen me in it (and snickered behind my back).

Since I have resolved to get rid of as much clothes as I can, I reluctantly put it in one of the trash bags. I foolishly pluck it back and run to my husband, asking for his advice. He said I should keep something memorable around, especially since it's from the Philippines. When he saw what I was planning to keep though, he asked if I had a t-shirt or purse instead. So I dejectedly put my colorful jacket back into the trash. I console myself that someone else will get to enjoy it and take care of it, while her friends snicker behind her back.

On a side note, I also realized I had 12 khaki pants:

This part of my closet looks like a veritable Gap store, the branch where the folders have slacked off. How many khaki pants does one need? I tried to go over them and see what I can discard, but I found that they all still fit me and are in good condition, with different styles and fit, so I ended up keeping them all.

Don't even get me started on the jeans!

More Goodies

2005-06-20T22:04:00.000-07:00

That are not so good for you.

Last week, our company had visitors from our manufacturing plant in the Philippines. Now everytime someone visits from there, I get excited because of the stories from back home, the chance to speak straight Tagalog to someone again, the excuse to take them to the wonderful places in the Bay Area and the inevitable pasalubongs (gifts from the homeland).

This time around, I wasn't that excited because the visitors were three young Engineers whom I've never met before and, since they were male and there's three of them, I just surmised that they wouldn't want to hang out with an "older" kabayan (compatriot) and prefer to be by themselves. However, when they gave me the pasalubongs from my friends in our Philippine office, I was blown away.

Here's what they brought me:

To enumerate:
Conti's ensaymada
Tobi mix nuts
Flat tops
Prima toast
Pili nuts
Cloud 9 (made me smile!)
2 bags of chicharon (my favorite!)
cans of Kraft cheddar
Conti's food for the Gods
banana chips
Conti's and Goldilocks polvoron
more polvoron
Filipino CDs
Haw flakes (haw haw haw!)
ampaw
assorted cooking mixes (hmmm, they know me too well)
turrones de casuy
The girls of FHM magazine
little boxes of tamarind
dilis
knitted purse
bracelets
tops from Folded and Hung and Kamiseta
and of course, packets and packets of dried mango

I could open a Filipino store - one with a weird mix of merchandise. I've been giving some away to friends (except for the chicharon, hee hee) but there's more. If you fancy any of it, just let me know (except for the FHM magazine, which my hubby has sequestered).

What's your favorite pasalubong from back home?

I've Got Mail

2005-06-13T19:07:00.000-07:00

Last week, I was excited to receive two things in the mail:

First, this from the Garcias of Vancouver, BC:

Thanks Aan, Raffy and Andro! How'd you guess we like salmon? :)

Then, I got these which I bought off of eBay:

These tickets are my Father's Day gift to my hubby, who loves the Eagles.

He thinks I'm only getting him this (because I "accidentally" let him see this in my closet):

I can't wait to see his reaction on Sunday!

Citizen Vain

2005-06-07T19:14:00.000-07:00

When I came to work this Monday morning, this is what greeted me:

You see, I became a U.S. citizen two weeks ago. I have been hesitating on writing about it, though, because I know I would offend Filipinos, Americans, or both. After seeing my cube, though, I knew I had to write (and share the pictures!), if only to educate those who might be interested in going through the process or just learning about it.

I was asked to attend the oath ceremony at 3:00 pm. My hubby, stepson and I roll in there at about 2:57. We see throngs of people just starting to be let into the building. My hubby told me that there was already a lot of people there as early as 10:00 am, but I heeded my friend's advice that they only let you in near the appointed time (thank you, friend!).

I somehow picked the best queue that I ended up in the group that's seated in the center front rows. There were some speakers urging us to fill out the registration forms to vote, which I did. One thing I noted about these speakers. There were four translators - one Spanish, one Chinese, one Vietnamese and one Filipino. One by one they spoke their native language, diligently pointing at the sections of the forms, obviously explaining the parts and how to fill them up to their countrymen. When it was the Filipino's turn, the young man didn't even bother to bring a form, he just said in Tagalog something to the effect of "we don't really need an interpreter because we know English, we just want to show them that we're a big group and need to be reckon with." This made me laugh, and the Indian and Vietnamese next to me are probably wondering what's so funny with a registration form.

Then we had a roll-call of countries, which I found neat. They would call the country, starting with Albania and ending with Zimbabwe, and the people from that country are asked to stand up. You get a feel of the distribution of people wanting to be Americans. I thought the Philippines would have the biggest contingent, but from the rustle of the seats it was obvious Mexico, India and Vietnam had us beat.

The guy standing next to me, on my left, was from Bahamas. I asked him - "you want to leave Bahamas?!?!" He laughed.

The master of ceremonies was Filipino. With his Spanish-sounding name, I was initially not so sure, but when he said "ceremony" with the stress on the second syllable, I had not doubt. There was a speech from a recently-naturalized ex-Australian CEO of a semiconductor company (hmmm, maybe I should get his contact number), extolling the virtues of becoming a U.S. citizen. A couple of speeches and a video later, it was time for the actual oath-taking.

This is when I suddenly paid attention. I have always regarded getting a U.S. citizenship as no big deal, I just wanted that blue passport to avoid the hassles of immigration or the necessity of visas to some countries. The voting and jury duty, I can live without. So I thought I will be in and out of there, looking forward more to the dinner afterwards.

When I started repeating the words of the Oath of Allegiance however, I got choked up. Especially on the part about renouncing and abjuring all allegiance and fidelity to any foreign sovereignty. I have always planned on having dual citizenship but these words really hit me hard. Am I really turning my back to Pilipinas Kong Mahal? I shamefully admit my heart was feeling cold while all the people around me were clapping and rejoicing, becoming a part of the greatest nation of the world (okay, maybe I'll offend not just Filipinos and Americans). I know this is just the practical thing to do and millions of Filipinos have gone through it, but I can't help but feel guilty. Guilty for the Philippines, for renouncing her, and guilty for the U.S., for using her.

When we got home from the ceremony, I found flowers and a cake on the table. Then we went out for Thai food (I just felt like Thai food that night). Later that evening, we hear a knock on the door. It's my stepson's friend, his little brother and their mother, with my stepson's friend handing me flowers (the same ones as my husband got me) and a card. It turns out my stepson casually mentioned to him about my citizenship, and he told his mom, and hence the visit. I was so touched, hugged the boys, and gave them cake and ice cream.

I'm over the emotional part of the citizenship, but I'm surprised at how everyone else had made/is making a big deal out of it. I almost didn't tell my husband about the ceremony, planning to just quietly take it, but he insisted on coming along for the "special day." My office cube was decorated like crazy and no one would admit to it. The only way I found out is by asking our Help Desk person to find out who came to the office on Sunday from the badge entry records. So, thank you Kevin and Debbie! Thanks for making everyone stop by and congratulate me, so I have to tell them the story over and over! Just kidding, I really appreciate your efforts, you crazy people.

Here's my stepson's gift to me (I asked him, should I name him Americky? He said, no, Abearica!):

And here's some of my other loot from friends:

His Two Moms

2005-05-31T22:30:00.000-07:00

About a month back, someone invited me to a dance. Since I knew that this boy already had a date for the dance, I asked him why he was inviting me. He said, "you have to be there!"

So, last Friday, I attended my stepson's Mother and Son dance at his school, together with him and his mom. His mom was so excited she wanted the three of us to go out to dinner beforehand. Since the theme of the dance was '50s and we would be in what I would consider costumes, I passed on the dinner. So, she picked us up, posed for some pictures, and hied off to the dance.

As I've said before, my husband's ex-wife and I have a great relationship. With that said, I still take extra care in dealing with things that relate to her son, my stepson, as far as motherhood goes. So, when I saw that invitation from the school about the mother-son dance, I naturally put it back in his backpack to be given to his mom.

What I didn't know (and will find out later on) was that he asked his mom if I could come to the dance with them. His mom said sure, and that he didn't even need to ask. It felt really good hearing about that. So his mom calls me up and we start planning on what to wear.

Since we didn't have poodle skirts (and weren't really that crazy over the '50s), we decided on capri's and bomber jackets and ponytails. We both ended up with no jackets (was a warm night), but stuck to the rest of the getup.

When we got there, we posed for more pictures in front of muscle cars, then we just played and danced and laughed and danced some more. One of the dances was a line dance, the kind where the mothers are in one line and the boys are in another, and they pair up dancing down the middle of the lines to Grease tunes. When our turn came we got cheers and catcalls, and some boys were yelling out to my stepson, "Ricky's double-dating!" I look at him, afraid he'll be all embarrassed. Instead he's got this wide smile on his face, and that's when I knew everything's going to be alright.

before the dance

the link game

stepson and his mom

me and stepson

some daughters tagged along

hula hoops

you gotta have the limbo

Semi Starstruck

2005-05-20T20:37:00.000-07:00

In one of his conversations, Junnie asked:

Have you been around a celebrity/ies? and what was the feeling of seeing someone you just on TV or listened to from CDs? Who was he/she? Were you in awe and star struck?

This reminded me of my brush with minor celebrities, an odd mix of people.

There was that time I posed with Penn:

And of course, when Penn is around, Teller can't be far behind:

One time, while waiting to check in at the Paris hotel in Las Vegas, this guy approached us and begged if we would buy his Barry Manilow concert tickets for that night, since his date didn't show up. I do like Barry Manilow, and I promised my hubby I'll never tell any of his friends, so we bought the tickets. It turns out it was on the second freaking row, right smack at the center!

I sneaked these pictures, even though they were so strict with the cameras they were actually asking people who take pictures to leave:

We were so close they wouldn't even consider me for the "Can't Smile Without You" sing along even though I frantically waved - they got this older lady from the sixth row. And she didn't even know the words! Boo.

And while leaving the concert, I saw Olympic figure skater Brian Boitano, and even if I'm a diehard Kurt Browning (Brian's rival) fan, I couldn't resist asking for a shot:

I don't usually take pictures at concerts, but I just had to snap one of (a very minute) Rick Springfield (my biggest childhood crush!) when he was headlining EFX in, where else, Vegas:

And of Madonna from her Reinvention Tour with my camphone:

In closing Junnie asked:

nag pa autograph ka ba?

No, I never ask for autographs. I don't see the value in them. I don't think I'll ever whip out an autograph and find joy in it, or show it off to friends. That's why I don't understand why they go for mega bucks in eBay.

I remember when I was younger. My mom worked at the Philippine airport, and she excitedly went home one day giving me a piece of paper with all of the Menudo's autographs on it. I just feigned excitement to make her happy. I don't even know what became of that piece of paper. Too bad, 'cause I'd love to see young Ricky Martin's signature again. Mmmm... Ricky Martin. I wouldn't mind a shot of that!

After The Love is Gone

2005-05-16T19:29:00.000-07:00

This should be the last time I write about my work. At least for a while. As you can see from the previous posts, I have had a tumultuous week last week. Half of our department was laid off last Monday (yeah, the day after Mother's Day), as well as half of other divisions at headquarters.

With these recent events, I have made some realizations.

Too much of my life revolves around work. I swear I've been more depressed about the work situation than when something does happen in my personal life. I have had bouts of sadness when I will just start to sob, and my hubby understands and just puts his arms around me without saying a word.

Getting laid off is not always a bad thing. The people who got let go actually got a good severance package. Our company used to have a cap on the payout - 10 weeks. Maybe because the reduction this time is so severe, they waived that cap such that some people who have been with the company 25 years actually got over a year's pay. Since a lot of people also are transitioning out, they were given a 25% increase on their time remaining, which can be as long as six months. So the combination of those two deals equate to an actually sweet package. Too bad my manager wouldn't let me avail of it.

A lot of my friends I have met through work. While I was organizing a "see you later" get together for one of my friends, who will be leaving next week, half of those invited were our friends who are no longer with the company. Man, I need to get out more!

My manager expects too much from me. I don't know if I should get excited for this new challenge (although I've never heard it myself, I've heard from others that she has referred to me as the Junior CIO), or reach for my security blanket and cower in fear. I have found my work very easy and comfortable, but with my resources taken away and I'll have to do the work of three people, I predict many stressful days ahead.

The main cause of our reduction in force is offshoring of functions. They got rid of my staff and I will now have to hire a new team to work in our Philippine office. I came from the Philippines and of course, love working with Filipinos, but I know this will be a challenge for me, especially with the urgent nature of my job and the time difference.

Well, taking from the sappy '80s song in the title, the love is now gone. Due to need, I will be staying on, mechanically doing my job, until I'm blessed one day to find something that I love again.

It's Happening!

2005-05-09T10:50:00.000-07:00

At 10:00 this morning, all of the employees were called in for a Town Hall meeting. Our biggest fears have come true - the company is laying off 30% of its employees. What's interesting is they told us before it happened. The individuals are leaving today, they're being called one by one by their managers and those left behind will meet with their departments at the end of the day.

This is weird. I might go any minute. (Note to self: remember to click on that Publish Post button before you go). As expected, nobody's working. Everyone's in small clusters talking about it, yet here I am writing on my blog. Maybe I should get laid off!

I'm trying to brace myself. Although my husband and a lot of my friends have gotten laid off in the past, I have never been so I don't really know what to expect. I know it's going to hurt, but I'm trying to psych myself to see the positive in it. When we were informed of the Town Hall meeting, I even entertained the idea of volunteering in case they ask for some. They didn't do so this time. I guess the die is cast.

And now I wait.

I Need to Lay Off the Caffeine

2005-05-08T22:51:00.000-07:00

I initially came here with the intention of posting about the wonderful mother's day I had with my mom and my hubby. Instead, I am compelled to write about something else, something that's been percolating in my mind for the past week.

Now is the only time I can write about it, lay it down in black and white, an experiment of sorts. You see, my workplace is rife with rumors of a major layoff, not the usual one that just gets rid of riff-raff but the kind that impacts all departments, where you lose valuable, hard-working employees, the effect of which will have those left behind reeling for weeks.

I have hinted a couple of times in this blog that I no longer am happy with my job. The truth is, I would like to get laid off so I can go look for another job I will enjoy with the severance package and unemployment temporarily alleviating the stress. I am too comfortable with my current job that I haven't made efforts to look for other employment - I was hoping that something will happen to force me to do so. I'm too chicken to quit my job without another option, yet the cushiness of my current job stops me from looking for other options (What if I make a horrendous mistake? What if I don't adjust well with a new job? What if I hate my new boss?) I now realize the mistake of staying too long in one company, especially in these times where employees no longer work for a single employer all their lives. I have become less marketable such that I have lost faith in my own abilities.

Although my boss and I have a great relationship, and she sometimes asks my opinion on business decisions (like whom I will let go of if I were the CIO, believe it or not), I dare not tell her frankly how I feel now. [To those who know my boss - please don't tell her!] I'm afraid that if I volunteer for a layoff, she will not accept it and just gradually strip me of my responsibilities until other people can do all of my work functions. The farthest I'll go is drop hints, because I am such a coward. Which brings me back to hoping for something to happen that's beyond my control.

Well, that something seems to be in the horizon. I've heard from the grapevine that the layoffs will occur this week. After this week, one of four things will happen:
1. I get laid off, and become so happy that I can now pursue other interests (not likely)
2. I get laid off, and feel horrible, unwanted and dejected but will realize [a long, long time from now] that it was all for the best (more than likely)
3. I don't get laid off, and go on being unhappy but still grateful that I have a job (high probability)
4. No one gets laid off (hey, one can dream)

You wouldn't guess what I'm praying for. (Hint: it's not an even number, and it's greater than 1).

Eat, Drink and Be Moroccan

2005-05-05T19:57:00.000-07:00

Last month, I took my husband to a Moroccan restaurant for his birthday. The place was beautiful, with rich tapestries and ornate decor.

the anteroom to the main dining hall

The food was scrumptious, some of which I found interesting. This is what we had, everything partaken with our bare hands (pictures borrowed from their website, since I was so busy savoring them I forgot to take any):

Moroccan Salad for starters

B'stilla - a Chicken and Almond pastry (one of the interesting ones, sweet and spicy at the same time)

Prawn Chermoula (my favorite!)

Tajine de Poule aux Apricots (Chicken with Apricots and Raisins, the flavor akin to the Filipino afritada)

Brochette de Kefta (Lamb Kabob minus the Kabob)

Couscous aux Legumes (You gotta have couscous!)

Baklava for Dessert with Mint Tea

During dinner, we were entertained by belly dancers. They were so good and graceful you kinda feel embarrassed stuffing your face with all that food while they strut their lithe, gorgeous bodies.

the young 'un

the pretty one

the young one balancing a sword on her head

hubby with the star belly dancer

she was really good

we definitely will be back

Vintage Star's Strange Vita (Part 1)

2005-04-27T20:12:00.000-07:00

Here's a picture of my palm:

Have you ever seen so many lines on anybody's palm? No, it's not because I'm old, or getting older. I have had all these lines since I was a baby (or so I was told). This unusual amount of lines has caused me to be self-conscious to show my palm to anybody growing up. In school, I was horrified whenever it was my turn to lead the Panatang Makabayan (Pledge of Allegiance), because that meant standing in front of the class holding my line-ridden palm up for everyone to gawk at! I missed out on playing Sawsaw sa Suka, a childhood game where your friends continuously dip their fingers on your outstretched palm while chanting a song, and you try to catch someone's finger at the end of the song.

Later on, I would be so hesitant to hold hands with a boyfriend, even though the few I've had found my wrinkly palms cute (or so I was told). Friends and relatives are only too eager to offer theories on what all these lines mean - I have a complicated life (I don't think I do), I have a lot on my mind (I don't think I do), I have had so many lives and somehow St. Peter forgot to erase the lines through time (I think I've seen that in a movie before).

So far, I've only met one other person with a similar palm (although he had less lines), on a plane, but I've forgotten who he was. All I remember is how happy we both were at discovering this rare commonality. Surprisingly, I was also disappointed to find my claim to the one unique thing I had in this world has been invalidated.

In any case, I'm stuck with these lines, whatever they mean, and I've grown accustomed to them. I stretch my palm out when needed without giving it a thought. Hey, I'm so comfortable I've even taught my stepson Sawsaw sa Suka so he could play it with his friends and also play it with him and hubby once in a while.

Dip it in vinegar, whoever's caught is it!

A Premature Dear John to Z

2005-04-20T01:30:00.000-07:00

I first laid eyes on you twelve years ago. Well, I've actually seen you around before that, but I've never really seen you, you know? As with any other new relationship, we were both tentative and cautious with each other. All I know is, after a few meaningful but failed ones, I was hoping that this was it, that you were "the one."

As time went on, I found myself spending more time with you than anyone else. My friends and family were getting jealous, questioning your intentions. I defended you to everyone, extolling your virtues and letting them know that you bring so much value to my life. It wasn't always harmonious though. You would unintentionally hurt me and make me doubt our future. There were times when I wanted to get away from you, and I sheepishly admit now that I have been tempted and considered others, but the more I got to know you the more I realized that no one else can take your place, that it will be foolish on my part to leave you just because you frustrate me sometimes.

You have to admit I have been good for you too. I have dedicated a big chunk of my time, talent and treasure for your success. I think that's why we clicked. We mutually learn from each other and sincerely care for the other's well-being.

So why do I feel this way now? There is no third party, no big argument. It is plain to see that we are drifting apart. You have changed so much I feel like I don't know you anymore. Much as I would like to deny it, you no longer need me as much as you used to. And, even though you still take me to joyous places and introduce me to interesting people, I have ceased to be happy and excited with our arrangement. I blame myself for having gotten so comfortable with you such that it now is so difficult to let go. But let go I must, or I'm afraid animosity will start to build up. I don't want to reach the point when we will detest each other so much we'll reach an ugly conclusion. We should part while we still are friends.

Before I say farewell, I must let you know how grateful I am to you. So, thank you, for the countless opportunities you have presented me over the years that not only benefited myself but also those around me. Thank you, for bringing me to my new home, paying for my advanced studies and giving me such a wealth of knowledge that will be helpful in the course of life. Thank you, for the plethora of good friends I've met through you whom I know I will keep for life. Most of all, thank you for introducing me to the love of my life. By the way, he thanks you too.

Goodbye Z. I will miss you. Miss me too, okay?

Manic Monday

2005-04-19T00:26:00.000-07:00

This morning I was involved in a fender bender. I hit a Nissan Altima from behind. We were both turning right on a busy street, and when we passed the pedestrian crosswalk, the Nissan proceeded and I looked to my left for oncoming cars, found none, gassed up to proceed myself, when the Nissan suddenly stopped and I rear-ended it.

From the way I'm recounting it you can tell that I'm putting some blame on the other car, even though on paper, I'm entirely at fault. This accident has become so frustrating for me, even more so than the hit and run last December, which was definitely more serious. The other party, which consisted of an older couple, made such a big deal out of it. I immediately apologized, offered my insurance information and contact numbers but they will have none of it. They insisted on waiting for the police, which was fine by me, until I realized how big a spectacle they wanted to pull. About 20 minutes later, a fire truck, an ambulance and five (count 'em - five) police cars were on the scene. People were rubber-necking, probably expecting some huge accident scene with blood and gore. I tried to keep my cool but it was really hard because I know they were faking it. When I bumped them, the lady in the passenger seat got out and animatedly waved her hands. When the cops came, she suddenly couldn't move and was complaining of whiplash, thus the paramedics. Meanwhile, all I had there was my husband, whom I called to just be with me. Good thing he had the presence of mind to bring a camera and take pictures - of the very minor damage (I was almost tempted to rub off the black mark on their bumper). At least the cops were all nice. When I asked one if the lady will be alright, he said, yes, he doesn't see any blood, so he's sure she will be, and then he winked at me. Another cop I talked to apologized for not hearing what I said because of the laughter of the other cops. They were joking at how many of them were there, and not a single one was useful (the couple didn't speak English well and were asking for a translator).

I am worried that they would try to milk this for everything they could. One of the cops mentioned to my husband that he thinks there's some role-playing going on, but he tries to allay our fears saying it's good that the cops were called, because they have documented everything, including the fact that I was going less than 5 mph because I came from a complete stop. In any case, that ruined my whole day. I couldn't eat or concentrate on work.

The one thing that bothers me the most is why I'm feeling like I'm the victim, when I should be feeling sorry for them and apologizing for ruining their day. I detest that in one second of stupidity, I have caused something beyond my control where I can only imagine what will come out of this... best case - I'll just pay my deductible and my premiums will go up, worst case - I'm slapped with a lawsuit, which is not surprising after seeing how they acted today. If it's the latter, I know I will fight it fiercely (hey, maybe it's my chance to be in front of my favorite Judge Judy). And now the painful waiting begins.

On a side note, the lady who hit me last December and ran was tried last Tuesday. I found out from the District Attorney that she hit and run five vehicles, driving DUI. Yikes. I wonder if she feels as crappy as I do now.

Pingpong Buzz

2005-04-13T21:03:00.000-07:00

Our company is currently having a Pro-Am pingpong tournament. It's a doubles match, with each team having a professional and an amateur player. Of course, PRO and AM are loosely defined here. We don't really have professional players, usually the males are tagged as pros and the females are the ams.

I am paired off with Chen, a funny and sweet guy who actually reports to me. For the first round of play, we went against Gregg, the Vice President of Sales and Christina, an HR representative. When we showed up for the match, this is what we see:

Gregg and Christina

Gregg was dressed in a bumble bee costume. He's funny like that. Of course we crushed the bee, because I am actually good at pingpong (some have complained that our team has two PROs). We could've skunked them 7-0 for both matches, but I purposely took it easy, giving lobs to Christina so they will have fun too. Besides, I enjoyed watching a bumble bee play.

We ended up winning two games straight, so no need for the third game. On to the quarter finals!

My partner and I

Lost in Lost

2005-04-10T20:42:00.000-07:00

I didn't realize how invested I was in the TV series Lost until I found myself bawling over Boone's death in the latest episode. This is huge for me, because I usually don't cry at sad movies, tearjerker novels and much less TV shows. I cry when real people die, like the pope, John Ritter, Chris Reeve, my dad. Sometimes, I don't even cry when I should, like when my grandma died or as an empathy cry when my girlfriend sobbed at The Notebook. But sometimes I would cry at the strangest times, like when I found out my stepson's pet rat had a tumor, but not when it died, or when I saw a man dining alone, but not when I saw a girl digging through the trash.

Going back to Lost, I wasn't particularly enamored with Boone, although he was the cutest male in the cast. In fact, I found his unrequited love for his stepsister annoying - I felt like slapping him silly for him to snap out of it. But, week after week, I bought the preposterous plots and tumultuous twists, in a way that I didn't for everyone else's favorite 24, no matter how hard I tried to like the latter. I tried hard not to run into spoilers on who was going to die, the news of which has been circulating for a few weeks now. I did read that it's the person whose story wasn't being developed as much as the others, and I had the feeling that it will be Boone. Nevertheless, I found myself bawling like a baby during his death scene, and by the last scene when his stepsister drops next to his already-cold body, my eyes were as puffy as marshmallows and my nose was as red as a clown's. Of course my husband teases me, to which I naively replied "But how can Boone die?!?!!"

Look Ma, No Skeletons

2005-03-29T20:06:00.000-08:00

This past weekend, I finally was able to finish (or at least tackle the big part of) organizing my closet. We decided to convert one of the bedrooms in our house to 1/3 my closet, the rest an extension of the master's bathroom. Since our house is very old and needs a lot of work, we have been tackling about two projects per year. Last year it was replacing all the windows and the re-stucco-ing of the whole exterior. This year is building my closet and remodelling the master's bathroom.

I was hesitating on posting this, since it's such a personal space, but I'm really proud of my husband who did 90% of the work (I just installed the shoe racks, assembled the drawers, and provided the clothes, hee hee). So, welcome to my closet! My very green closet...

hubby texturing the walls himself

work in progress

installing shelves

configuring drawers

finally finished the shoe racks!

my favorite fixture - the light

time to fill in with stuff, starting with the short hang...

then the drawers...

then the double hang...

purses...

long hang...

and finally the shoe wall (best part of it? there's room for more!)

Hmmm, it looked better when it was empty. I still need to do a lot of work, like buy hangers and get rid of some more clothes. But I'm happy I can actually see my clothes now.

Blue Mood

2005-03-24T19:11:00.000-08:00

I've been down in the dumps lately. I cannot pinpoint one reason why, I believe it's due to many things.

First of all, I got sick last Sunday. Bad timing too, because I attended my friend's daughter's first birthday party (and thus wasn't able to hug and kiss her, boo), and I have worldwide training scheduled this week. When I wasn't getting better last Monday, I went home and tried to get as well as I could for I certainly couldn't conduct any training in that condition.

Tuesday at 5:00 pm, I trained our salespeople in Asia for the new computer system I'm rolling out. Three hours later, I rushed home and sedated myself with Nyquil, for I really felt sucky. The following day I had to get up at 5:30 am to train our salespeople in Americas and Europe. That same night at 7:30, I had to train our Customer Support people in India. I managed to conduct three good sessions, even earning kudos despite my coughing (which I apologized in advance for!). After three rounds of training, I was so pooped. Thank goodness for Augustine who was a trooper and helped me out with all the sessions, even though he didn't have to. You're a lifesaver, Auggie!

Also, I think I'm having a falling-out with my boss. It's mostly my fault because I talked back to her during a staff meeting, so she kind of lost face, but I couldn't help it. I really lost my cool because she has been trying my temper recently. She is under a lot of pressure and tends to take it out on her staff. She keeps on going back on her word on me, making me lose face to my vendors. I've finally had it when she did it another time that I gave her proof that contradicted her statement, in front of all her staff. She lamely blamed it on our reduced budget and left it at that, but by then I knew I've gone too far.

Pity, for she and I have a wonderful relationship. So wonderful that I'm being teased by my peers to be her favorite. I just attribute that to jealousy, because I know my worth and how much I contribute to the firm. My own frustration has gotten to a level that I have even started looking at job openings elsewhere. Pity again for I really like my job, for the most part. I am very comfortable at my company, highly respected and genuinely like all the people I work with.

So here I am, still sick, hoping to get out of this rut soon. I think this is God's way of reminding me that it is holy week, and I should contemplate and meditate instead of doing worldly things. I only smiled when, lying on the couch, I asked my husband to bring me socks for my cold feet, and he got me these:

Sugar + Caffeine = Work Longer

2005-03-18T16:28:00.000-08:00

Last Wednesday, I created my 43 things on 43things.com, which was referred to me by Junnie. It's a neat site where you can list down your goals, with the presumption that writing them down makes it easier to achieve them. What I like most about the site is that you can see how others have completed the same goals, and they tell you how they did so. Some courageous ones even offer to help, so you can ask them any question on a particular goal. A cute touch is that the community can cheer each other on specific goals.

Okay, so I tried to be SMART (Specific, Measurable, Achievable, Realistic and Time-based) with my goals. Some items on my list are lose weight, drink more water and get in shape. Pretty simple right?

I just have one problem. Our Facilities Manager at work sent an announcement today that from now on, our company will be providing free snacks and beverage for all employees, including chai teas and espressos from Peets and Starbucks. Sure enough, when I sauntered to the cafeteria, this is what greets me (pardon the grainy pictures, taken with a phonecam):

And my personal favorites:

Damn you workplace <fists waving in the air>! Why oh why must you taunt me?!?!

No Wonder I Like Green Day

2005-03-14T17:25:00.000-08:00

On the way to work this morning, it was green light all the way, allowing me to reach work in 8 minutes. I don't know if the San Jose traffic light system is incredibly efficient or incredibly poorly-designed, but I have been noticing this for a long time now. I either get a slew of green lights or red light after red light, such that at my first stop at the end of our main road I can already tell if it's going to be a green or red day. When it's a red day, it's like the traffic light gods are smirking down on me, and force me to painfully notice how many intersections I have go through because I have to stop at every one of them. So, I get to work in 15 minutes instead of 8, and never in between.

Sometimes, life feels like that. The saying "when it rains, it pours" comes to mind. In recent years, it has been a series of green lights for me, with just one depressing red in between. Unfortunately, my pessimistic nature compels me to anticipate when the reds are going to come. I morbidly think of scenarios that would interject a flat tire in this otherwise smooth ride.

Perhaps it's this defeatist attitude that prevents me from believing in streaks. I still cannot fathom why my husband would bet the whole sum of money he had just won in a hand of blackjack in the next hand. He chuckles as he tries to explain, as if to a little child, that he's just "riding the wave." Wave, what wave? Doesn't basic statistics tell us that one deal is different from the next? Even if you are the shrewd type who can memorize the cards that have been dealt, the vast possible combinations of the remaining ones couldn't promise a guaranteed win, could it?

This thinking is what makes me the type who usually bets the same amount for every hand in blackjack. As if to punish me, when I sometimes feel lucky and bet more, I almost predictably will lose the hand.

The gods of gambling must have conspired with the gods of traffic lights that day.

Happy Birthday Junnie!

2005-03-11T10:27:00.000-08:00

I don't remember when I met Junnie, but I'm pretty sure it was in the 6C classroom in DLSZ. Over the years, I got to know him really well, especially since we were classmates from then on until Junior year in high school, plus schoolmates at DLSU.

Junnie is funny. Junnie was the class clown, and his jokes make you think. I remember one time when he pulled a prank on our Sophomore class. We had our names stenciled on scotch tape at the front of our seats. One morning we came to class with some of the names changed to something funny (e.g. Norman Maglasang was changed to Norman Maglasing [to get drunk]). The whole thing was so funny that even those maligned didn't take offense, and while our teacher tried to keep a straight face in asking who did it, we could tell she was ready to burst in laughter. Cleverly, Junnie also changed his name from Junnie Arreza to Junnie Arrest to divert suspicion away from him. I don't think our teacher ever found out who did it.

Junnie is intelligent. He's always at the top of the class, and was a representative of our class in many, many contests (except maybe the singing contests).

Junnie is a natural leader. He was our class president year after year. Every election time, it was a given that Junnie will be class president, such that everyone else just ran for the other positions. He led us well. Whether in glory or in shenanigans, our class was always united and we knew we got his back, as he did ours.

Junnie is creative. His mirror signature, his font-like handwriting, his outstanding art projects, his funny haiku... the list is endless. My brother whom he used to work with once told me a story on how he encountered some trouble with embassy officials because they thought the signature on his passport was counterfeit - it was too perfect and every instance of it was exactly the same as the others!

Junnie is well-rounded. Although a southpaw, he is a perfect blend of right and left brain, excelling in anything he delves into - academics, the arts, sports.

Junnie is a great friend. He is one of the few "boys" that I used to chat on the phone with for hours. He's a great listener, and his advice is priceless. He's very considerate, not just to you but to all the parties involved. He's very thoughtful, even though we've lost touch he still remembers my birthday.

Above all this, Junnie is a wonderful husband, son, brother, uncle and Christian. Although I haven't seen him in years, I see this everyday in his blog, his pictures, his emails, his comments.

Happy birthday Junnie! For you and Mitzi, I pray for the gift of becoming parents soon. I'm sure you'll be wonderful at it.

exactly 10 years after our high school graduation

the boys didn't see it coming

the original gwapings

even then, the omnipresent camera in his hands (hi Mitzi!)

Long Overdue Music Tag

2005-03-09T18:07:00.000-08:00

Random Ten:

1. One Thing - Finger Eleven
2. Heart of the Matter - Don Henley
3. Cool Change - Little River Band
4. Somebody Told Me - The Killers
5. What Am I To You - Norah Jones
6. Love of My Life - Queen
7. Jesse's Girl - Rick Springfield
8. Got To Be Real - Cheryl Lynn
9. Let's Stay Together - Tina Turner
10. Spoiled - Joss Stone

1. What is the total amount of music files on your computer?
I don't really know and I'm too lazy to find out. I had > 4 GB on my old computer (thanks Kazaa!) but then my hubby erased them when he rebuilt it. I think I'll try the new Napster.

2. The last CD you bought is:
Frank Sinatra CD at Starbucks for my mom when she comes back here this month (woo hoo!)

3. What is the last song you listened to before this message:
Yeah - Usher (my ringtone... does that count?)

4. Write down five songs you listen to a lot or mean a lot to you:
a) Solsbury Hill - Erasure
b) Hard Habit to Break - Chicago
c) Every Breath You Take - The Police
d) Best Friend - Basia
e) This Night - Billy Joel

5. Who are you gonna pass this stick to?
Jo and Franny, but I'm not going to hyperlink their names because I don't think they want their blogs publicized.

Thanks Linnor!

Life's Little Pleasures

2005-03-03T18:31:00.000-08:00

Last night, I went to dinner at Blowfish with the consultants on my project at work. Among the three of us, we ordered way too much sushi and rolls. I think it has to do with Augustine digging our pretty server and wanting either to impress her or give her a huge tip. My favorite was a salmon/tuna/avocado roll topped with cheese. Mmm, everything tastes better with cheese.

I had a great time, as I always do with Augustine. As I have worked with him on several projects, we have become friends. I feel like an older sister to him, and he even went to my wedding. He is so cool, friendly, smart and charming, but he is such a player. Everytime he calls, it seems like he's going out with a new girl. The other consultant, Oscar, is from New York and I've only met him on this project. He is the exact opposite of Augustine - shy and reserved. All he did was laugh at our stories and shenanigans.

After dinner, we moved on the the V Bar, a hip and high-tech bar in Santana Row. And then the best thing happened.

I got carded.

For those not familiar with this, being carded means the bartender asks for your ID as proof that you're 21 or over and thus, legal to drink. And I even ordered a wimpy drink, amaretto sour! Augustine, who's 26 and didn't get carded, was giving me crap, maybe because he dug the pretty bartender and she wasn't paying any attention to him. I didn't care, my smile was so wide, nothing could ruin my night. As she handed me back my card and thanked me, I said, "No, thank YOU."

Kenny Who?

2005-02-28T19:39:00.000-08:00

This is my South Park character:

Made with this which was taken from here. Fun fun fun!

The Difference Between BMWs and Porcupines

2005-02-24T20:29:00.000-08:00

Yesterday morning, I found this outside our house:

My father-in-law decided to give us his old BMW 740iL. What's funny is that it is he who was celebrating his birthday yesterday. He and my mother-in-law just left this car outside our house and didn't even wake us up. Of course we appreciate this generous gesture but we're baffled. My husband thinks it's because I told his dad how much I loved his Mercedes SL500 at one time. So I replied "Then why didn't he give us that instead?"

Kidding aside, I love cars, but I'm not a fan of BMWs. Probably sensing this, my "new" beemer gave me a flat tire the first time I drove it last night. Good thing my hubby was with me - he had the privilege of changing it. I must say, its got pretty cool tools though. And the spare tire was a full-sized Michelin. Sweet! Plus this thing is so huge that the backseats have footrests.

My in-laws are downsizing, literally. They bought a smaller car and are giving away or selling their big cars, except for their big-butt SUV. They're also selling their house and moving into a condo. Too bad because we've grown to love that house. I wonder what could've happened if I told them "I love your house! (read: any chance of you giving it to us?)"

It's funny how all our lives we amass and amass, only to dispense and distribute later on.

Or maybe it's sad.

From Your Wicked Stepmom

2005-02-20T21:19:00.000-08:00

When I married my hubby, I got a 5-year-old stepson out of the deal. I was apprehensive at first, since I was cocooned with my own family and blood relatives for three decades and have never had a step-anything in my life. Some people say, and I tend to agree, that I was lucky that the stepchild is of the opposite sex, and that he was very young when I was introduced in his life. But I would say that the biggest factors in easing the transition of our relationship are the way his parents brought him up and his loving nature.

My husband is brilliant when it comes to handling children that I never had a problem with my stepson. I have learned a lot just watching him be a great dad. He playfully introduced me to his son as his (stepson's) girlfriend such that the latter ended up getting possessive over me and would fight with his dad for my attention. There was a point when he would not kiss his mom because he didn't want to upset me. As he grew older and realized I was actually his dad's girlfriend (which I'm sure he's relieved to know), we have become best friends.

His mother, my husband's ex-wife, makes sure that he treats me like his mom too, giving me carte blanche authority on him when he's with us. One of the biggest compliments I have ever been given is when she told me that her son is very lucky to have me in his life, she couldn't wish for a better stepmom for him. She even tells this to her relatives and friends that I get embarrassed sometimes. With a mother like that, it's not surprising that my stepson is one sweet and loving boy.

Happy birthday Ricky! I am very lucky to have you in my life, I couldn't wish for a better stepson!

The Unusual Suspects

2005-02-17T21:02:00.000-08:00

The day after Valentine's, a huge box came from Hallmark addressed to me. My husband made me open it in front of him, and we found this inside:

Upon seeing the card enclosed, my hubby snatched it and read it quickly. Then he gives me this sheepish look as I laugh and read it myself. The flowers are for both of us from a cousin and her husband sending their thoughts and prayers for our recent loss.

I must admit it tickled me to see my hubby jealous as he suspected some guy would send me flowers for Valentine's. Dare I admit that, for a split second, I also entertained the possibility? Hope he doesn't read this!

Thank you Jane and Derrick!

Oops He Did It Again

2005-02-14T20:53:00.000-08:00

Despite our pact not to give each other a Valentine's present this year, my husband still gave me one. I know, I know, I should consider myself lucky for having a thoughtful (or some would say, sneaky) husband. Unfortunately, as with gifts past, it's something I am not particularly thrilled with. I don't know what to do with it, nor would I know where to put it.

Honestly ladies, what would you do with a swarovski crystal rose?

My hubby and I have gotten to a point where we are totally honest with each other, such that we let the other know when we didn't like what the other got for us. I have been very truthful sometimes (consequently, very mean) and I would blatantly ask, "Do you have the receipt for this?" This time, although I didn't like the crystal, I put on my best smile and said my most gracious thank yous. He still saw through me and said "Sometimes, the best gifts are those you absolutely have no need for." I know this is supposed to be symbolic and sweet, but I wish he gave me Chanel sunglasses instead.

I know, I know, I'm a cold, materialistic rhymes-with-witch. J

Touch and Go

2005-02-08T19:53:00.000-08:00

I just met you last Thursday. Even before I saw your two beautiful pink lines, I knew you already. Still, I decided to savor our own intimate moment together before I called your dad to introduce him to you. He was delighted. I was ecstatic. I couldn't wipe the smile off my face.

In an instant you changed my life. I was so happy to be with you every single moment. I became giddy, patient, more loving and understanding. I would wake up smiling at the thought of spending the day with you, and then letting your dad join our happy circle by snuggling up to him. I did everything that I thought was best for you. I bought the book that talks about how to take good care of you. I read it day and night, sometimes through the night — because I can't sleep from all this excitement over you! Your dad and I went shopping for veggies (yuk!), fruits and all other nutritious stuff for you. I gave up coffee right away (oh, this alone should tell you how important you are to me!).

Last Sunday, we went to mass and your dad and I thanked God profusely for giving you to us. In the afternoon I sensed that there was something wrong with you. Oh how I wished you could tell me what it is. Since I learned about your habits and all the possible things you are going through, I just let you be and hoped for the best. We watched the Superbowl with your dad at Dave and Karen's. I was so tempted to talk about you with Karen, since she's a nurse and would be full of advice for me to take better care of you. But your dad and I made a pact to keep you to ourselves for now, since you are so young and delicate. Even though my Pats were winning, my mind wasn't on the game or on the big-budget commercials, all I could think of was you and I was praying that everything was alright.

After the game, we stayed on to watch The Forgotten. It was a very interesting movie, about a mom who never forgot her son after he disappeared even though everyone else has. I silently reassured you, I will never forget you, no matter how long or short you decide to stay with us.

Yesterday, things definitely weren't right. I called for an appointment with the doctor to help me help you but she can only see me the following day. All throughout the day, you were giving me signs that you wouldn't be with us for long. I ignored them, going about my work and trying to make everything as normal as possible. In the evening, you were saying goodbye more loudly, so loud that I cannot keep on discounting it. My heart broke at the thought of losing you, when I've already fallen in love with you so deeply. Your dad tried to console me, saying clichés like "It's for the best" or "It isn't meant to be". Although I knew all these to be true, they didn't diminish my anguish in the least bit. I cried myself to sleep.

This morning, for the first time, I saw you, not as two beautiful pink lines but as a part of me. Strangely, seeing you gave me a sense of calm, not the despair I expected. Even though you said goodbye, you filled my heart with so much love that I don't feel sadness anymore. As the doctor showed me your home for the last five weeks that is now empty, I clutched your father's hand as I finally said goodbye to you.

I will never forget you, my sweet baby.

How Do You Do It?

2005-01-31T17:27:00.000-08:00

This past weekend, I did something something I haven't done in a long while... not read a single blog. Of course this means I have a lot of catching up to do. Which has also prompted this post.

How do you guys do it?

How do you manage to be on top of everyone's blogs, comment faithfully and still have time left over to update your own? I'm defeating the purpose of my blog when I started it - to document my day, preserve the events, capture the moments. What I end up doing is visiting a site, finding an interesting link, hopping on to another interesting link, liking it so much I visit the archives, and so on and so forth. It's a vicious cycle!

I consider myself a beginner and try to pace myself by slowly building my favorites (I started with just Memento). I really only want to add as links those I enjoy reading, and so far I've done just that. But now I find myself discovering more and more blogs to my liking, and less and less time to devote to blogging. I marvel at those (you know who you are) who update theirs daily (complete with fresh pictures!), visit their hundred links, comment on every post and have time to update their music lists. Whew! I know someone who even uses a different alias everytime he comments! Superhero indeed!

Any tip will be appreciated. I do love this blog world and I don't want to get burnt out and leave it.

Who Are You?

2005-01-28T01:00:00.000-08:00

Yesterday, [or technically, 2 days ago since it's already 12:28 am] I got upset with hubby for being late picking me up for our daily lunch date. With eyes wide with excitement, my stepson [who joins us for lunch every Wednesdays because he gets off school early] exclaims, "There was a commotion at San Tomas! It was like a CSI scene! There were cops and firetrucks and CSI guys!" This makes me smile. To him, everything is like CSI.

Later on in the evening, we find out in the news that the commotion was due to the discovery of a dead baby in a hollowed-out hole of a rotting tree, a mile away from our house. This made my insides churn. We were watching this with a neighbor, who's a nurse, who then informed us that a California law has just been passed that anyone can leave a baby to a hospital, police station, or other government agencies with no questions asked. She said too bad the mother of this baby didn't know about this law. My husband then opines that the baby probably was stillborn and the mother got scared of the liabilities. Our neighbor added that it probably was one of those hidden pregnancies too where the family had no clue. As they continue to discuss, all I can think of was why didn't they just leave the baby at our doorstep? I would've taken care of it and raise him/her as my own. As if reading my thoughts, my husband says "no, it's against the law to keep the baby if you found it."

On a not so lighter news, a suicidal man left his SUV on the train tracks, changed his mind, and caused a massive train wreck that left 12 people dead and 200 injured. I know this is tragic, but I couldn't help but find the following ironic - almost laughable. The suicidal man, seeing the havoc he wreaked, tries to slit his wrist and stabs himself in the chest. The prosecuting lawyer is now making sure that he is under close suicide watch, so he could be tried for 11 counts of murder with "special circumstances" of committing murder through a train derailment. Under state law, special circumstances allegations could make a defendant eligible for the death penalty.

So... we're going to spend thousands of taxpayer dollars and waste hundreds of hours to make sure this nut dies, something he's all too willing to do himself right now? Is this why people make fun of California? Or lawyers?

Stepmoms are People 2

2005-01-24T17:55:00.000-08:00

I have a very unique relationship with my stepson. I would say we are more friends than mother-son. I'm his favorite wrestling partner, maybe because I let him do anything and everything to me [and he, me]. I'm also his favorite TV buddy. He's got me hooked on SpikeTV and Nick@Nite while I've got him hooked on CSI and The Amazing Race. He'll even watch Dr. Phil as long as it's with me! We love to play, I mean really play, with each other. He laughs at me whenever he kills me at Halo 2, while I laugh at him when he gets a word in Scrabble wrong. We gang up against hubby/daddy, like when I'll let him go out and play when his dad won't, or when he takes my side when choosing which restaurant to eat at. We also have spats like friends do, like when he made fun of my favorite 80's music or when I teased him about the girl he liked at school.

Lately though, he's become more son-like towards me. He makes me sign his homework packet all the time, while I used to leave this to his dad or mom. He wants me to tuck him in after his dad has already done so, whereas he used to just kiss and hug me goodnight before going to bed. He asks for my help more and more on his homework, especially in Math. Last week, when he got sick, he told his dad that he'd rather stay with me than his mom.

He's also been slipping a lot too and mistakenly calls me "Mom." Although I'll never take the place of his mom, I like the sound of that.

my drama queen stepson after trying some vietnamese fish sauce

still reeling from the fish sauce, and gunning for an oscar at the same time

once in a while, i let him sit in the front seat of the car, and whenever he does, he always wants to hold my hand

iPodify Me!

2005-01-20T19:06:00.000-08:00

Wow. I haven't realized the magnitude of iPod's popularity until a friend forwarded me this website. This site charges $19.95 to convert your photo into an iPod ad. What you will use it for, I have no idea, but apparently, a ton of people are flooding the site such that their backlog has grown from 2 days to a week!

Whew. Pretty soon, the iPod is going to be incorporated into our daily jargon, maybe as a verb like 'tivo' ("Did you tivo Desperate Housewives?") or a common noun like 'palm' ("I forgot my palm at home!"). Wouldn't it be nuts if it became an adjective? "Oooh, I like your skirt, it's so ipod!"

Nevertheless, the site inspired me...

To All You Phlegmatic Ducks

2005-01-18T16:06:00.000-08:00

I got this via email from a friend in Atlanta. Found it funny and interesting, so I'd like to share with you.

English of English
By Carla Montemayor

The King's English and I

Sheffield-- I have always had a love affair with English, and for that reason I write in this language. I've encountered Singlish (the okay lahs of Singapore), Deep South English (brung and y'all), Japanese English (no R's), Ilocano English (all R's), and I have never had major surprises until now with English English, the way they speak it here in the UK.

It's not that I was ignorant of its peculiarities. I had read British authors, watched British films, and spoken with British people long before I got here. All that, however, still did not prepare me for the shock of the colloquial.

For starters, there's the verbose politesse. The British will not just say "thanks," they will invariably say, "Thank you very much indeed," or "Thank you ever so much." Ever so much na, indeed pa. How does one reply adequately to that? "You are profoundly welcome from the deepest recesses of my heart"? Sometimes I feel like bowing.

Then there are the dramatic exclamations. Things are never just "okay" or "nice" or even "great"; they are "splendid," "fantastic," and "brilliant." It's overwhelming and somewhat suspicious for someone whose own language is restrained in the deployment of superlatives. Maganda (beautiful), magaling (good), and ang galing-galing (really good) are about all we can bring ourselves to describe anything we're impressed with, although we do make up for it with emphatic gestures and lively vocal tones.

The British, when pronouncing something as being "superb," will make the most frugal of lip movements and the slightest of eyebrow lifts. Requests are bound to be long-winded. "You don't suppose you could turn the light on, do you, that is if you don't mind and if it's not too much trouble, of course?" I'm tempted to reply with a similar treatise, but I just say, yes, I suppose the Filipino CAN!

But CANS are not in vogue here. My housemate asked me for a TIN opener, not a CAN opener. And we're all supposed to throw our trash in the trash BIN, not the trash CAN. This must have confused the English when Bin Laden burst into the political scene because, well, the bin is always laden and that is why one must empty it regularly.

One evening, I decided I could speak fancy English as well as everyone, and so I announced to my housemates that I would be buying a small SKILLET. That was met with blank expressions. I am buying a small skillet so that we won't have to fry eggs in that big pan, I announced again. Oh, a FRYING PAN, they chorused. (Celtic barbarians,
I muttered under my breath.) But when they did fry poTAHtoes in that pan, they weren't FRIES at all but had somehow been transformed into CHIPS.

Don't get me started with those poTAHtoes and toMAHtoes. I scoured the grocery shelves and there wasn't any toMAHto SAUCE, just diced toMAHtoes in toMAHto JUICE. But I don't want to drink it! I want to cook with it!

I went on to the vegetable section already stressed out. No one knows of EGGPLANTS around here, just AUBERGINES. I could not positively identify the ZUCCHINIS because they were hiding under the alias COURGETTES. I've lost all hope of finding mustasa because I'm sure they're not called "moustache."

I've seen menus featuring "spotted dick," but I'm too embarrassed to order it. I searched for BISCUITS, ignoring large packages of DIGESTIVES, which I thought were for septuagenarians who had to put all solid food through a blender.

And because this is the north of England, I've been invited to TEA in the evening in which no tea was served it was actually DINNER. Then I was asked to DINNER, which turned out to be LUNCH. So now when they ask what I'm having for "tea," I say "rice." And when someone invites me to "dinner," I no longer plan to wear a shiny dress.

I have also ceased to recoil upon hearing the various endearments with which total strangers address me: "luv" (fairly common), "flower," "angel," and get this "duck." Why the name of a domestic fowl is considered a fond nickname, I have no idea. If someone called me "bibe" (duck) back home, I would surely be livid and yell back, "Itik" (skinny Philippine fowl)!

I have had to LOAD credits onto a local SIM card given to me by a friend, but I found out right away that there is no pre-paid "loading" here, only TOP-UP service. You top-up your mobile phone, tuition, bank balance.

All that topping up requires money, of course, and I cannot help making mental computations to convert pounds into pesos. (One pound is now about a hundred pesos.) So when I get a "concession" ticket (a discounted ticket for students) to watch a movie for "just" five pounds, I have actually spent P500 to see a film. Oh, bollocks! as the Brits would exclaim, and to that I can certainly relate because it sounds like bulok (rotten) and in the plural, too. In other words, bulok na bulok (very rotten).

Due to all the budgeting I have had to do, I have become better at MATHS yes, in the plural, as well. But for the first time in my life, my spelling skills have to be, er, topped up. It's labour, with a U. It's analyse and offence. All my written academic work is riddled with words underlined in red. I am completely DISORIENTED, but since this is England, I must be DISORIENTATED. Bloody strange, if you will excuse my English.

Anyway, I don't understand why "bloody" or "bleeding" is considered a swear word in this country. In Tagalog, if a meeting or a confrontation is particularly tense, it will be described as madugo (bloody). How is that filthy? Probably for the same reason that here, "phlegmatic" is something of a flattering adjective. To be full of phlegm is to be quintessentially British: calm and unflappable.

Me, I'm from a population of weak lungs where the horror of tuberculosis is still euphemized by the term "primary complex." I neither possess nor desire any phlegm whatsoever. To each language its own bodily fluid. lovely, isn't it? =) c u later, my ducks! =)

101 Things About Me

2005-01-11T19:16:00.000-08:00

since i haven't figured out how to reference a non-archived page, i am presenting this as a post.

1. my real, full name is evangeline.
2. friends call me vangie, which i've formally adopted since moving to the states.
3. some of my nicknames growing up were gigi, gie, vange and tingting (as in reed thin... ah, the good old days).
4. i'm thinking of going back to evangeline, mainly because of her.
5. i was born on august 14, 1969.
6. which makes me a leo.
7. and a cock (or rooster, if you will).
8. i grew up in santa mesa, but moved to paranaque during my teen years.
9. i attended de la salle zobel high school.
10. in high school, my posse consisted of 7 nerdy girls.
11. we were known as the seven dwarves, and i'm sneezy.
12. i would go through a box of kleenex every 3 days.
13. i played the banduria, laud, octavina and snare drum in band just to get out of p.e.
14. i finished at the top of my batch in junior year, but fell down to third in my graduating class.
15. that's okay, because i had the happiest time letting loose with my senior-e classmates.
16. my first love was a classmate since sixth grade, but we only hooked up during our third year in college.
17. my first relationship lasted eleven years!
18. but now we're just friends.
19. i wish him all the happiness in the world.
20. i'm good in math.
21. i was the trigonometry (my worst subject) representative of our school for the math olympiad, where our team placed third.
22. my biggest crush in high school was neither cute nor hot, he just kicked ass in algebra.
23. i took up computer science in college, where i maintained a 4.0 gpa until the second year.
24. i am an alumnus of de la salle university.
25. i had many chinese classmates and i enjoyed learning and writing chinese bad words from them.
26. my two best friends in college were a tall girl and a pretty girl.
27. i was known as the smart one.
28. i secretly wished i was the pretty one instead.
29. i am a late bloomer.
30. i'm still waiting to bloom.
31. early in my career, i became good friends with six georgeous girls who are oozing with confidence, among other things.
32. i'm now married to a wonderful, loving, sweet and beautiful man.
33. i have the cutest stepson, whom i adore.
34. i have a yellow lab named xerky (short for xerxes double-trouble zeus f).
35. my husband's family is the best, and they don't even read this!
36. i used to get so self-conscious about the age and race difference between me and my husband.
37. now i love to flaunt it.
38. i'm a lousy homemaker.
39. i love buying expensive gifts for others.
40. i can finish a pan of brownies.
41. i have an unnatural obsession over ray liotta.
42. i can touch my nose with my tongue.
43. i have an abnormally high number of lines on my palms.
44. i had bulimia the first time i lived in the states.
45. which lasted for years.
46. i had the best time planning my wedding with my husband.
47. we splurged on my album ($8000) and scrimped on my gown ($200).
48. when it comes to gifts, my husband and i don't like surprising each other.
49. because it usually backfires (ugg boots, anyone?).
50. we love going to vegas, almost always staying at the paris hotel.
51. i love billy joel, sting, prince and george michael.
52. i'm stuck in the '80s.
53. i used to run for 2 hours on a treadmill everyday.
54. now i don't even want to walk across the parking lot.
55. when climbing stairs, i always have to end on the left foot.
56. when descending, i always start with my right.
57. this inanity has caused some minor accidents (not on my part but to others who have been watching me).
58. i can go on all day without drinking water.
59. i have never smoked nor taken any drugs.
60. i'd like to like liquor but my whole being rejects it.
61. i have very poor memory due to massive doses of anaesthesia over the years.
62. i got an mba from santa clara university in 2000, and got married at mission santa clara.
63. i used to sleep 3 to 4 hours a night while i was taking my master's (partly due to the bulimia).
64. i've had long hair for about 90% of my life.
65. i don't like my thick legs.
66. i like my small waist.
67. i love to dance.
68. if i could change one thing in my life, i would do more sports.
69. i play classical piano, my favorite composer is claude debussy.
70. i love my mom with all my heart.
71. i'm not good at making friends.
72. i think i have more guy friends than girl friends.
73. i'm impatient, lazy, quiet, pensive and stubborn.
74. i'm good at jeopardy and crossword puzzles.
75. i love beating friends at them.
76. i'm so into hollywood and all its drama.
77. my guy friends are comfortable with sending me racy and crude jokes.
78. i prefer the city over nature.
79. i have just finished writing my first novel, thanks to nanowrimo.
80. i would love to chat with oprah and judge judy.
81. i am a slow-reader, making sure i read every word.
82. although i don't often do so, i feel sexy when i wear a skirt.
83. my favorite color has changed throughout the years, but they've all been in the blue family.
84. i have a brother whom i miss all the time.
85. my favorite chain stores are banana republic, express, barnes & noble, the container store, target and marshalls.
86. i have created full choreographies in my head to 'brick house' and 'black and white' of which i'm the star dancer.
87. i have spontaneously played bohemian rhapsody at the microsoft store in sf metreon and got applauded by the crowd for it.
88. i get cold easily, for which my husband and stepson tease me all the time.
89. unfortunately, i was not gifted with a nice singing voice.
90. but that hasn't stopped me from singing whenever i can (only in front of my husband and good friends).
91. one bad habit i would like to get rid of is getting envious of others' possessions.
92. i sometimes dabble in drawing.
93. if i could be part of a sitcom, it'll be will & grace (yeah, even as rosario's daughter).
94. i am an aggressive driver.
95. my favorite shoes are bruno magli's.
96. i have a subscription to more than five magazines but read only one faithfully - people.
97. the only thing lacking in my life is a baby.
98. i have over 100 pairs of shoes but use only about five regularly.
99. despite #88, i love cold weather coupled with hot espresso.
100. my dream is to own a tim horton's franchise.
101. if and when i get my franchise, all my friends will get free drinks.

Branifer No More

2005-01-08T22:05:00.000-08:00

Brad Pitt and Jennifer Aniston separate. Yoohoo, Brad! I'm heeeeere!

Seriously, I find it weird that I'm moved to blog about Brad and Jen, neither of whom I was a big fan of. Sure, I liked Rachel on friends and find Brad hot, but I was more disheartened (hopeful?) when Tom and Nicole split. I'm just affected by this, albeit mildly, because I really believed that these two were the real deal. They seemed to really be in love, the way we ordinary folks find our soulmates whom we end up living with forever. I was rooting for this Hollywood couple! Besides, I was looking forward to their depiction of The Time Traveler's Wife on the big screen. Now, they're just an addition to the legions of celebrities with short-lived marriages. If it turns out that Angelina Jolie really had a hand in this, I will hate her more.

Maybe I should place my bet on Demi and Ashton instead.

He Just Wasn't That Into Me!

2005-01-03T18:44:00.000-08:00

I just finished the book He's Just Not That Into You, by Greg Behrendt and Liz Tuccillo.

Whew!

No, it's not a long book. In fact, it's a breezy and highly-padded 176 pages. I'm just whewing because it's so overwhelmingly scratch-your-head simple that you wonder why you didn't write it first (and made it to Oprah as a bonus). It is very practical, sometimes too cookie-cutter, but the authors are careful to address that issue by a disclaimer that it is meant for the rule, not the exception. And we ladies shouldn't see ourselves as the exception.

I think that's where the problem lies with dealing with hard relationships. When we're in it, we cannot help but feel we are the exception.

Since I'm married and very happy, this was just light, entertaining reading for me, especially with Greg's mild humor injected here and there. But oh how I wish this book was written ten years ago - I would've saved myself a lot of time, trouble and tears.

I highly recommend it to single girls who are dating.

Googling Myself

2005-01-01T19:51:00.000-08:00

Someone mentioned to me a while back that when they googled for my first name, they got my blog as the first result. Cool. Since I'm vain, to me this is even cooler than googlewhacking. Of course I had to try it myself. I got the same result and took a screenshot to preserve the day when I was no. 1 at Google! The novelty soon wore off when I realized I'm still number 1 after several weeks. Not a small feat, considering the commonality of my name (which has made me, on several occasions, consider going back to using my longer, but rarer, full name... but I digress). Look, there's even a site for an Ex Playboy Bunny Vangie, who I'm sure gets way more traffic than mine. Hey, at least I'm still first! Major props to blogspot!

I decided to post today's screenshot to also capture the cool Google logo with 2005 as backdrop shadow. Happy New Year everyone!

Merry Christmas!

2004-12-25T13:22:00.000-08:00

The Nightmare Before Christmas

2004-12-23T22:15:00.000-08:00

This evening, I had a harrowing experience. Going home from work, a black Land Rover in front of me stopped in the middle of the road on a very busy intersection. After some time, the people behind me started honking, and I joined in. The car moved to the right lane and I went my way. Suddenly, the Land Rover sped up and rammed my car on the right-hand rear passenger side. Thinking that this was a madman who was pissed at me for honking at him, my first instinct was to try to get away from him as soon as possible. I sped up and I heard him coming up behind me again. I got really scared then and started to pull over.

Surprisingly and frighteningly, the Land Rover started to pull over too. As it pulled over in front of me, it clipped the front left quarter panel of my car. With trembling hands, I reached for my cellphone and dialed 911. The driver got off, and it's a she [yeah, thinking road-rage, I stereotypically thought "guy" right away]. She's white, about 5'4", barefooted and looked dazed and confused. Although I thought I could take her if needed, I was thinking the worst [what if she had a knife?] and wouldn't open my door or window for her. She was standing next to my door, and I kept motioning to her to wait, that I was calling 911. Since it took many cycles of "All of our operators are busy..." to reach a live operator, I mouthed to her "Are you okay?" She said yes, but kept pointing to her car. In my mind I couldn't figure out what would make a car hit me without the driver willing it to. Still waiting for a dispatcher, I started taking down her driver's license, which I've been repeating over and over to myself the whole time. When she saw me do this, she walked (or more appropriately, weaved) to her car and drove off. Crud, what was I gonna do now?

While still on the phone waiting, I saw this lady walk towards me from the front excitedly gesturing and saying something I can't hear. When she reached my side, I rolled down my car window and she said that she was driving behind me and saw the whole thing. She even apologized for taking a long time to get to me because she had to find a safe spot to park. While walking to me, she saw the Land Rover speed off and had to jump to the sidewalk to make sure she doesn't get hit.

I asked the lady to get on the passenger seat, to get out of the busy street next to my car. She got in my car and told me the story as she knows it. She was doing the sign-language to me as she spoke, and she sounded like a mute who has recovered the sense of speech. Early on, she noticed the girl on the Land Rover (henceforth to be known as Ms. LR) driving erratically on the freeway. Ms. LR rammed a car on the freeway much like she did me, and when the car pulled over, Ms. LR drove off. My witness (henceforth to be known as Ms. GS for Good Samaritan) noticed that the Land Rover already has a taillight hanging out so she surmised that it's been on another accident. Ms. GS decided to exit the freeway to avoid the lunatic. To her dismay, Ms. LR followed right behind her. She tried to stay as far away from her as possible, and that's when I got in between them.

I finally get a 911 operator and I told her the whole story, being helped by Ms. GS. I honestly told the operator that what I'm concerned most about is that Ms. LR will cause more accidents, wherever she is. She asked me if I need an ambulance and I said no, but please look for the crazy lady in the Land Rover. At the end of the call, she said that she's sending a police officer over shortly.

I then called my husband. He prodded me to call my insurance but I didn't really want to deal with that at this point. I wanted to keep talking to Ms. GS so she will stay until the cop arrives. I keep thanking her and she said that something similar has happened to her and nobody stopped to help. While I was on the phone, she would type something on her PDA and I offered my phone in case she needed to call someone. She just smiled and told me not to worry, this is a very important matter and having a witness will help with my insurance.

Two police cars finally arrive after forty minutes. They took Ms. GS's statement and asked me to recount the story. I tried to be as detail as I could, answering their questions to the best of my recollection. When they heard that the culprit was still out there, one of the cops asked the other if he should maybe get on the freeway and see if he could locate her. The latter agreed and the former took off. The remaining cop then dismissed Ms. GS by saying she could go and Ms. GS said "Okay, hope that helps. Merry Christmas!" Suddenly realizing what she said, she turns to me and says, "I'm sorry, maybe not so merry for you" and I hugged her, smiled and thanked her one more time.

I spent another half an hour with the cop as he jotted down all my pertinent information for the police report and took pictures of my car. His radio then crackled and I heard the words "black Land Rover" and "freeway." The cop told me that Ms. LR just got in a very bad accident on the freeway and is being taken to the hospital. I asked if she will be alright and he didn't know. He gave me the card that contained details for my insurance and I went on my way.

When I got home I hugged my husband tightly and relaxed a little before going out to finish our Christmas shopping. He then told me that his tire blew out this afternoon but he didn't tell me earlier so I wouldn't panic. We laughed about our accident-laden day until he reminded me that bad luck happens in threes.

All I want for Christmas is peace and good health for my family. And maybe something nice for Ms. GS.

My Biggest Pet Peeve

2004-12-19T16:41:00.000-08:00

Well, not really, but it's up there. Why do people have to lick their fingers when turning a page of a newspaper, changing the leaf of a book, counting folded money, or trying to open up an especially-stubborn Safeway plastic bag? C'mon people, does this really help? I know all it does for me is make me cringe and get away from the offender as far away and as fast as I could.

Unfortunately, even people close to me have this very unsanitary habit, and I can't find any tactful way to ask them to stop. I think I've seen my husband do it [probably the only person I can be totally straight with, maybe that's why I don't see him do so anymore]. My grandma did it before drawing the threesome flop while playing solitaire [I remember having a hard time thinking of an excuse not to play gin rummy with her after I've seen her do this]. I see my girlfriends do it, including those whom I thought would be revolted by witnessing the very act. In fact, I see so many people doing it that I start to wonder if maybe that's the most natural thing in the world and I'm just being too darn prissy. I don't consider myself antiseptically clean but it bugs me more than it probably should. I find this habit offensive and repulsive that I would rather buy a new magazine than come in contact with your bodily fluids, no matter how close we are.

By the way, if you reading this do the deed yourself, I apologize if I offended you. Just know that it's a huge turn-off for those around you when you do that. Or at least if I were within viewing distance.

I Feel the Need

2004-12-16T18:38:00.000-08:00

Yesterday, our company treated the IT, Finance, HR and Purchasing departments to a day of go-kart racing at SpeedRing to thank us for working hard on the Sarbanes Oxley crap. I almost didn't go to the event because I was behind on my Christmas shopping. Good thing I changed my mind - what an exhilirating experience!

We were divvied up in 8 teams of 3. We raced for 2.5 hours around a decent course, and have to complete a minimum of 4 driver switches. We foolishly thought that this was too many, until we found out for ourselves that it gets tiring out there! Once we got tired, we would pat our helmet to signal the next driver to get ready to switch. We ended up switching nine times.

Although I crashed three times, with the last one so big that they yellow-flagged all racers to attend to me, I still ended up with the second best time in our group, ahead of Joe (hee hee). We won third place, which was not bad considering the first place group have all done this before (with one of them being a regular), and the second place team was only ahead of us by one lap. I'm so proud. At first I thought I'd slow my two male teammates down, but I discovered this aggressiveness in me that made me down-pedal the race most of the time. Unfortunately, this also caused my crashes, I cannot decelerate enough around the tight bends. This also gave me my badge of courage - a couple of bruises and a gash on my hand. Youch.

I iced my back last night but it's still hurting. I think shopping will make this feel better.

How come my suit makes me look dorky?

The Winners

This Old Dog of Mine

2004-12-14T19:26:00.000-08:00

I had a roller-coaster of a day yesterday.

To start off, I had a great work-day, successfully launching a new product, a USB Smart Cable for two of our business lines.

Then in the afternoon I found out that FPJ, a Filipino-movie star who ran for Philippine presidency but lost, passed away. This news saddened me not so much because I knew him or admired him, but because I can't help but feel that if he hadn't been pressured to run for office and got all stressed and worked over, he would still be alive and well today.

I then went to our company's Christmas party. Although scaled back from the grand and lavish kind we used to have, it was still fun. It was held at 7 Restaurant, a hip and classy lounge closed to the public that night for our party. Food was great, entertainment so-so, but hey, I won a $100 gift card to Westfield Shoppingtown so I'm not complaining. I had a grand time, mostly with Kevin and Debbie, laughing non-stop so hard, only stopping for air once in a while.

When I got home, I was met with the news that our yellow lab, Xerky (short for Xerxes Double-Trouble Zeus F.) has been missing since 4 p.m. Unfortunately, he didn't have his collar on because s-son took it out just the day before to relieve him of the heavy chain. He usually just sits on the lawn while the workers paint our house, but they think that he must have followed some dog somewhere. The problem is he's very old, a little deaf, and has arthritis so he won't be able to find his way home. Hubby and some neighbors have been looking for him all night. Although late, I begged my husband to come with me to look for him some more, and we searched our neighborhood in the dark. I was squeaking one of his toys continuously, straining my ears for the faintest bark. We gave up at around eleven. Going back home, I suddenly start thinking of Xerk, and start bawling. I couldn't stop. I finally went to sleep at around 2 am, and woke up this morning with puffy eyes.

After lunch today, my husband calls me to say that the "fugitive" has been found. He found him on the third doggie jail he visited. When I got home, there he was, sleeping with his squeaky toy, as if nothing happened. I usually don't like waking him but I just had to hug and croodle him.

I'm glad the roller coaster ended on the upswing.

Random and Off-Centered

2004-12-07T21:38:00.000-08:00

Visiting other blogs, I realize that I don't post enough pictures here. So I'll take a break from sad writing and post a couple I found lying around this cluttered desk. These were taken at my in-laws' home when we went there for the 4th of July picnic this year.

My s-son flanked by his cousins

Me flanked by hubby and dad-in-law

I Did It!

2004-12-03T21:12:00.000-08:00

I wrote 50,000+ words of my novel, Change the Game, and submitted it a day before the NaNoWriMo deadline. I honestly didn't think I could. I had a very slow start, churning out less than the prescribed 1667 words daily. I even hit literary walls during my trip to Seattle, where I thought I could crank the words out because I would spend copious hours cooped up in a hotel room. That turned out unproductive, because no matter how I tried, I couldn't find my writing groove. I rolled up my sleeves and jumped in with both feet when I got back home, about 11,000 words behind, reminding myself that if I don't finish this novel now I never will. So I wrote. And wrote. And wrote. In the process I neglected my family, my health, this blog (is anyone still reading this?). The only thing I didn't neglect was work, because I couldn't do any writing at work. Shows you my distorted priorities.

I love my husband. He has been so supportive through all this. He would wake we up from the couch, reminding me that I should write amidst my sleepy protests of tiredness. He would let me have espresso at night when normally, he would forbid me to even smell coffee past 2 pm. He helped me with my convoluted plot twists and turns, including the unbelievably difficult task of coming up with characters' names. [I've run out of former teacher and co-worker name combinations!] He is my number one critic and number one fan. I began the process with letting him read my Chapter 1 and when I asked if I should continue writing, he enthusiastically replied "Yes! This is salacious! I can't wait to read the rest of it!"

With 59,289 words crammed in 30 days, my novel is far from over. The story is not finished, I haven't killed off all the characters I want to. Plus it will probably take me 30 months to edit this sucker (NaNoEdMo anyone?). But I feel a great sense of accomplishment, I learned a lot this short month. This project is a great motivator for me. My only regret is I didn't get to go to the Bay Area closing party because, ironically, that night was the meeting of our book club at work.

I had a wonderful time. But I'll probably never do it again. For now, it's off to sleep. Glorious sleep.

Homeland Insecurity

2004-11-22T18:24:00.000-08:00

Recently, a former manager of mine sent me and some other friends an email sharing the good news that his family has moved to a new home and that they have become U.S. citizens. I responded to that email, still copying the whole gang, with my congratulations as well as sharing some of my own good news that I have also just bought a house and will be going for my Naturalization interview soon. I even joked that despite not being my manager anymore, I am still following his footsteps.

One of the people on copy of this email thread then sent a strange message. He said that he congratulates us half-heartedly because we met our accomplishments here in the States. He ends his email with this sentence: "If we are to dream of nation-building, we should free ourselves from the bondage of selfishness."

WTF? Although he did send another email later on apologizing and saying he might have given us the wrong impression (and by that point I'm not really sure what the right impression is), I can't help but get miffed with this response. Especially since it came from a person who has repeatedly tried to get a job here in our Corporate Headquarters in the U.S. and have even asked my help in doing so. What a hypocrite! How dare you accuse me of turning my back on my homeland, the Philippines, just because I have chosen to become an American citizen! By the way, I will be opting to have dual citizenship, because the Philippines has passed a law allowing this. I honestly told them that I am getting an American citizenship to avoid the hassles of entering different countries with a Philippine passport, and to not have to secure a visa for some countries I plan to visit in the future. If anything, America should accuse me of using her for convenience's sake.

I, like many Filipinos living here in the States, still contribute to the Philippine economy by regularly sending money back home to my family, money that I would never have earned if I stayed in the Philippines. I find that I have learned to love her more after I moved away, another sentiment that many Filipinos abroad share. I, who used to never get caught in a cinema showing Filipino movies back then, now seek and devour Filipino VCD's, or any magazine from back home. I go to Jollibee every chance I get not just because they have great chicken but because it reminds me of home. Home. What a strange word. I now consider San Jose as my home, but I proudly call the Philippines home without batting an eyelash. I didn't forsake her. I didn't leave her. She will always be in the sinews of my being.

Do You Know the Way to San Jose?

2004-11-16T21:11:00.000-08:00

I'm going back to find, some peace of mind in San Jose.

I'm in Seattle right now and I'm losing my mind! Out of loneliness, boredom, depression. I regularly come here, but this time it's weird. I'm bored out of my gourd. Maybe it's because I'm alone. But no, I've gone to the Needle, Pike Place market and downtown Seattle by myself in previous visits and enjoyed it. Maybe it's the weather. It's been raining the past two days (uh, hello? it's Seattle!) It's cold and wet and bleak and dreary. I miss my hubby. I miss my stepson. I miss my stepdog. 3 more days... sigh.

Can't wait to get back to San Jose.

NaNo What Now?

2004-11-08T20:30:00.000-08:00

As if my life wasn't hectic enough, I ludicrously decided to enlist in Nanowrimo, or National Novel Writing Month, where you commit to writing a 50,000-word novel in the month of November. I thought this would be a great way to jumpstart the idea that has been percolating at the back of my mind for a couple of years now to write a novel. After all, what drives output more effectively than a looming deadline, even if it's an incredibly daunting 30-day one?

Okay, 8 days down and my word count is 5,319/50,000 or a freakin' ten percent! And here I am writing on this blog instead of adding precious words to my novel! I am about ready to throw in the towel when I suddenly get this galvanizing and funny-as-heck email from Chris Baty, the brainchild of this insanity, that warns the wrimos to not get discouraged by the Wall of Week Two. Wall of week two?!?! I think I hit it back in day three. However, this email is the shot in the arm I needed.

So off I go, with rejuvenated passion to continue on the fight (and it is a fight to try to come up with however many ways to say "she stated.") I will try my darnedest best to finish this incredibly mediocre manuscript that will never see the light of publishing day, just to be able to proudly proclaim... on November 30... that I came, I saw, I wrimo'd!

And then it's time for the Nano Thank God It's Over party!

Foreign Tongue

2004-11-06T15:56:00.000-08:00

In the shower this morning, I started singing. What's amazing about this is the song I sang is a French song that I was taught in grade school a gazillion years ago (and have never sung since, until today). It was written by our school brother, Bro. Raymond Bronowicz, F.S.C. to honor some French big wigs who were to visit our school. Everyone in the school was taught the song so the visitors would be touched to see these cute brown kids singing (or at least trying to) something of their own.

Knowing not a single word of French (not even oui), we were made to practice it day in, day out, which is probably why it stuck in the inner recesses of my mind until it broke free today. So even if I don't remember what the song is about, whom they were for, nor what I had for lunch yesterday, the words just started rolling out of my tongue.

The song goes like this, though I'm going to butcher the spelling since I still don't know French:

Honneur à toi glorieux De La Salle
Apôtre des enfants et gardien de la foi
Vainqueur de l’ignorance à l’âme si fatale
Honneur à toi, honneur à toi

Ô toi que les e lous
Comme nous applaus dissent
Enchantment triomphant
Dan les parvis du ciel
Pour exalter ta gloire
Ici nos voix s’unissent
Avec ferveur au cantique éternel

Animo La Salle! <-- this is not part of the song, I'd just like to give a shout out to my beloved alma mater

The Nanny Diaries

2004-10-28T21:19:00.000-07:00

In the Philippines, the Yaya is not a sisterhood and it doesn't have divine secrets. The yaya is the equivalent of the nanny in the English world or the au pair to the French. However, the Filipino yaya has the distinction of becoming so attached to the child in her care that she more often than not becomes part of the family and tends to grow old with them. I use the pronoun "she" for the yaya is almost always a female, just as the driver is almost always a male (in fact, I've never met a male yaya). The "driver" in this case does not only drive for the family, he fulfills all the "manly" needs of the household such as gardening and home repairs.

The yaya is different from the maid (also usually a female), who usually cooks, cleans and takes care of other household chores. Just as there can be multiple yayas and maids in the household (some families have one for each child), there can also be multiple male help. Aside from the driver, the family sometimes employs a "boy", a connotation which, although often indeed a young boy, really refers to a male help that does miscellaneous things around the house and run errands. Yes, the Philippines is about the only third world country I know that employs an army of people to help around the house. In our family, there was a time when our help outnumbered us that they joked that they would throw us out of the house! [Yup, they were that comfortable with us.]

The yaya starts out by taking care of a baby in the family. If she does a good job and works well with the family, she is usually retained even though the child has grown. Growing up, I had a total of 3 yayas - Yaya Ann, who took care of me when I was a baby, Yaya Lucy [Yaya Ann's sister] who took care of me when I was a toddler until I was in my teens, and Yaya Cita, who kind of took over from there, although she has been with the family since I was born as well, in other capacities.

I am very, very, attached to these yayas. Growing up my favorite has been Yaya Ann because she was the fun, cooky one. She left us when I was small to look for greener pastures (read: foreign employment), but she would visit often and would always have some toy or chocolates for me. She taught me how to bake and would tell me stories about her interesting "amos". When she got older she came back to us and became part of our family again.

Yaya Lucy probably had the biggest influence on me. I was attached to her hip, and, as sad as this may sound, I often preferred her company over my parents'. One afternoon, arriving home from school, I found my mom and Yaya Lucy around the dining table talking. I absent-mindedly kissed Yaya Lucy instead of my mom. When we realized what happened, we all laughed, but I can't help wonder later on if I hurt my mom with that innocent mistake. Once, Yaya Lucy and my dad had a big argument over something serious, prompting my dad to ask her to leave. I remember not leaving Yaya Lucy's side for days, crying the whole time, so she won't leave me. Yaya Lucy's daughter, Elma, also lived with us and became my big sister. When I went back to the Philippines for my dad's burial, Elma was instrumental in keeping our family sane.

And then there's Yaya Cita. Although she was never formally my nanny, she took care of me longer than anyone else did. Even while Yaya Lucy was still around, Yaya Cita took over my care. She stayed in my room until I was in my late teens, and since she was younger than the two, I was very comfortable with her. She has come to know me better than anyone else did. Over the years, she has become more than a yaya to me, she has become my dearest friend. Last January, I cannot describe my joy in seeing her after eight years of being away. She still lives with my mom in our house in the Philippines, but she mostly just takes care of her dog and cats.

I owe a lot of who I am now to my three yayas. I am so blessed to have known these three beautiful, wonderful women who truly loved me and dedicated part of their life to me. I can never repay them but I continually try to give back this blessing to them.

Happy birthday, Yaya Cita!

If It Makes You Happy

2004-10-25T20:22:00.000-07:00

There are a few songs that when I come across while scanning radio stations, I have to stop and listen to. Most of the time I sing along. In the case of Sheryl Crow's "If It Makes You Happy", I belt. I don't consider it a favorite, but I just love singing, er, yelling the chorus at the top of my lungs (only when I'm driving in the car, mind you, and by myself... most of the time).

This song has served as a strong personal ethos for me since I first heard it.

If it makes you happy
It can't be that baaaaad

It seems so simple yet makes a lot of sense. Unfortunately, I have also used those two powerful lines to justify some questionable actions on my part. I consider myself a good girl with a generally proper upbringing, but it's probably that mindset that drew me to adapting this song as a motto in the first place. I have experimented, because it made me happy. It made me happy, so it can't be that bad. My problem is the next two lines.

If it makes you happy
Then why the hell are you so sad

Now this brings in the factor of guilt. You are sad because you know whatever you did that made you happy is bad. Why can't Sheryl just leave the two lines the hell alone? This is probably why I don't consider the song a favorite. And why I don't like Sheryl Crow.

Random songs that I always stop channel scanning for:
Reminiscin'
The Reason (although I'm starting to get sick of this)
She's Gone
Shut Up
Cool Change
Every Breath You Take
Here Without You
Your Smiling Face
Got To Be Real
any Basia song
Modern Love
Forever Young

Sonnet "45"

2004-10-22T18:21:00.000-07:00

Amidst a melancholic world I forge a dream
A dream about a reunion that's happy and lasting
Yet considering the signs, the future it would seem
That to no avail, the state is worth realizing
During such waiting diversions may come
New people, new faces, these are merely a jest
As opportunities knock and I may consider some
I stop for a moment to think of the best
Still, the best must wait, the game has only begun
A deranged rat race to the rainbow for the spry
To partake I must, there's no room to shun
No space for failure, no chamber to cry

The road will be rough and the pace will be fast
Yet, with you in my heart I know I will last

Please Please Tell Me Now

2004-10-19T13:07:00.000-07:00

Last Sunday, I was doing my weekly cleanup of my room with a radio station that featured 80's hits in the background. I then heard the dj ask a question about one of my favorite bands of my youth, Duran Duran, as part of a contest. Without knowing what the prize is, I grabbed my cellphone and dialed the number she provided. It was busy, I pressed redial. Since I then got a ring, I decided to just wait.

It took about 20 rings (man, she must be waiting for the 30th caller) before someone picked up the phone. It was the dj! She asked my name and I give her my first name, mentally hoping that none of my friends or relatives are listening since my unique first name plus my accent would surely give me away. She then asks the question, and I answer "Barbarella", and she congratulates me for winning! I foolishly say "cool" and "awesome" and hope to high heavens that she doesn't ask me what I just won. Thankfully she went on to tell me that I just won their latest CD and special DVD. She asks me to hold and I wait for a long time again while the song being played finished, and then she plays back our conversation. I sounded weird on the radio, and I kick myself for being lame and not excited enough. At the same time, I regret that hubby wasn't around to hear wifey on the radio! Winning something at that!

She comes back a few minutes later and gets my contact information. Then she asks if I knew what this means. Before I could mutter something she excitedly says "You qualify for the grand prize of a trip to Las Vegas to see their concert and to meet them backstage!" WHAT?!?! Now I'm REALLY excited. She sweetly ends with "I'm rooting for you!" and I felt so guilty because I didn't even know her name! I just profusely thanked her and, lame as I am, said "You rock!"

Although I don't expect to ever win the Vegas trip, I happily go back to cleaning, fantasizing about meeting my boyfriends from high school. Before these shirts that proclaim Mrs. Pitt or Mrs. Kutcher came about, I was decades ahead of the pack by writing Mrs. Taylor all over my My Melody binder. And it didn't even matter which Taylor it was!

Things I've won from a radio station:
1. $100 gift card to Sharper Image
2. tickets to Huey Lewis and the News
3. Duran Duran Astronaut CD/DVD

Wedding Weekend

2004-10-12T20:24:00.000-07:00

Who	Michele & Harris	Robin & Danny
When	Saturday, 10/9	Sunday, 10/10
Where	UBC, Vancouver	Pajaro Dunes, CA
How	Solemn Ceremony	Carefree Beach Wedding
Why	True Love	True Love

Congratulations!!!

A Super Man

2004-10-11T01:30:00.000-07:00

I just read the CNN Breaking News that Christopher Reeve died yesterday at the age of 52. Life got cold for me today. He was my first crush. As if being Superman wasn't enough, he had to be a hero in real life championing the cause of spinal cord research.

I feel like flying to outer space and reversing the earth's rotation.

Cause and Ill-Effect

2004-10-04T20:14:00.000-07:00

Do you ever have those times when you suddenly feel bummed out, and you don't exactly know why, so you start backtracking your day to try to pinpoint what exactly is causing it? You think of all the things you did, all the people you talked to, all the emails and blogs you read, all the news you heard. Could it be this? No, I was kinda expecting it. That? Nah, that's not big enough to make me feel this shitty. And suddenly.. boom! Yes, that's it. The fact that this person said those things about me.

And then you feel really bad again, but at least now you know why.

Rock My World

2004-09-29T19:31:00.000-07:00

I felt the earth, move, under my skin. The sky didn't tumble down (thank goodness). I was replying to a customer email yesterday when I suddenly felt everything circling clockwise, including me. I quickly recognized it - we were having a true-blue Norcal earthquake! I was actually enjoying the freaky motion and just when I started getting panicky thoughts of "will this get bigger and stronger?", it stopped.

Just another day in the Bay Area.

Gone for the Gold

2004-09-27T20:45:00.000-07:00

Last Saturday, hubby and I attended an aunt and uncle's 50th wedding anniversary. There was a mass, a sumptuous lunch and yes, karaoke. Which actually wasn't that bad because there were two great singers (one of them a professional from the Philippines) who thankfully performed a lion's share of the songs.

I had a great time, seeing the cousins I grew up with in Manila who are now based in Phoenix, Atlanta and Australia. We all used to live in the ancestral home that was three storeys high - they were on the third floor, our family lived on the second floor, and two other families occupied the first floor. Since there were six siblings in their family, there was never a dull moment in that house. My brother and I loved hanging out upstairs, only coming down to eat or sleep. I'm especially fond of my cousin from Australia since she's closest to my age and was my idol growing up. You know the little kid who follows you around and does whatever you do? That was me with her. I would copy the way she she wrote, the way she drew, the way she spoke, the way she dressed, the way she baked Pineapple Upside-down Cake. It was unfortunate that she has moved away when I finally perfected my version of the Pineapple Upside-down Cake.

I also caught up with my cousins who live in the Bay Area but I seldom see. It's funny I feel so close to them, since I read their blogs regularly, but when I see them in person I get all clammy and don't know what to talk about, that I end up bringing up the most inane topics (like calling my dog stupid when I knew they were dog-lovers). [If you're reading this, this is my way of apologizing for being a blubbering idiot last Saturday. Believe it or not, I'm shy around you guys.] Oh well, I've got a lot of time to make that up.

When some cousins started to sing the YMCA, I left the room to go out to the patio and joined my husband and an uncle. They were talking about golf and I tuned out. I suddenly felt gloomy. My mom will never celebrate a golden wedding anniversary. My brother and I won't get to tell the world the valuable lessons we learned from our parents growing up. Family and friends won't have the chance to sing cheesy love songs as tribute to our parents. My future child will not get spoiled by Lolo Junior.

I snapped out of it and went back in to join the party. I let Billy Ray Cyrus blaring from the speakers drown out my sorrow. Nothing like watching good 'ol line dancing to get your mind off your achy breaky heart.

And Now, a Word From our Blogger

2004-09-22T19:16:00.000-07:00

To those of you who posted comments on I Never Did Like Coconuts, first of all, thank you, and second, I have replied to you. I have to write to tell you because I'm not good at responding timely. I love getting comments (don't we all?), but I'm still getting used to blogging, so forgive me?

To the rest, where's the love?

A Study in Contrast

2004-09-21T21:45:00.000-07:00

This past weekend was a study in contrast. Saturday was chock-ful of activity, while Sunday was marked with lethargy. Saturday started with a 9:00 soccer game. My s-son's team, the Bulldogs, beat the Jaguars, 3-2, in a very exciting game. S-son's mom and I sat together and caught up with each other's goings on. In a strange (or maybe not-so-strange) twist of fate, her family and mine have a lot in common, aside for the obvious. This is probably why we get along well, better than the usual ex- and current relationship.

After lunch, hubby, s-son and I headed to his baseball game. While I enjoy watching soccer, baseball is too drudging for me. Maybe because it takes 2 hours longer than the hour of soccer? At the game, I brought long-overdue pictures of the flower girl at my wedding that her mom, who's the wife of s-son's baseball coach, has been asking for. I thought I'd show her our wedding album as well, so I brought the pocketbook version of it.

I sat next to s-son's mom again, and we picked up where we left off. Next to her is another baseball mom friend of ours, Angie. When s-son's mom asked what was in the package, I told her it's Shayna's pictures from our wedding. She lit up and asked if she could see them. She loved the pictures, and I tentatively asked if she would like to see the wedding album. She said "of course!" and she and Angie snatched the book I took out from my purse. They both loved the pictures! Then Angie said, "You know, we've been to many weddings over the years, I must say, yours was the best we've ever been to by far." I felt myself blushing and thanked her, but got too awkward that I told s-son's mom, "you know I really wanted to invite you, we just felt in the end we didn't want you or anyone else to feel uncomfortable." She said "I wouldn't have! I would love it, but I understand." So, disconcerting moment passes. They ask me more about the wedding, like where I got my dress, where I found the magician for the kids, and who did the beautiful album, etc. S-son's mom asks me "so, what's your wedding song?". I said "Oops, I Did it Again." She burst out laughing. "Good one!" That's because hubby has been married thrice before me.

So baseball time flies by with the three of us chatting, to be joined later by Rosemary, the flower girl's mom. We talk about anything and everything, from the boys' teacher to our vacations, from Survivor to Rescue Me. After the game ends, with our Baltimore Orioles shutting the opposing Red Sox out, we rush to a BBQ to the soccer coach's house, sort of a 'beginning of the season' party. I got to another round of socializing, with soccer moms this time, and at 9 pm I said goodbye to our hostess because I had a lot of housework to do. I leave hubby and s-son at the party and walk home, which was 2 blocks away) and start cleaning the china cabinet we just purchased. Although I ran out of Pledge, I'm happy with the results.

Hubby and s-son didn't get home until midnight, and by then I have bought velvet flatware storage and yards of flannel lining for the china over the internet and was just watching recorded shows from ReplayTV. Hubby told me about the rest of the party, and we watched several Reno 911's and Chappelle Shows before retiring at 2 am.

Sunday was veg day. Yup, a study in contrast. Hubby and s-son played Halo most of the day, and I just lounged around and saw more ReplayTV shows (I watched about 10 hours of TV, without the commercials of course). I justified this indolence with the cramps I was suffering due to my period. Around 3 pm I felt guilty and decided to clean my room. I got rid of a trash bag full of clothes and the same amount of paper (why am I subscribed to all these magazines?) At 6:30 pm hubby rounds us all up and we eat a not-so-healthy dinner at Dairy Queen.

Later that evening, when I found myself alone again, I couldn't concentrate on the book I was trying to read. My thoughts kept coming back to my husband's ex-wife, envisioning how it would have been if she was at the wedding. I imagined what it would be like to watch the man who vowed to love you 'til death do you part make the same promise to another woman, who is having the happiest day of her life.

I would've died inside.

I Never Did Like Coconuts

2004-09-16T22:18:00.000-07:00

A Filipina co-worker of mine hurriedly entered my cube the other day. I can tell from her agitated state that she had something big to share.

"Have you seen that Filipina-looking chick who's helping Finance audit for Sarbanes Oxley?" she whispered.

I shook my head.

"Well, I ran into her in the cafeteria and asked her if she was Filipino. Know what she said? 'I was born there but I'm not Filipino'. Then she turned and walked away."

My jaw dropped and then we both started laughing. I told her next time she sees this girl, trip her and we'll she if she cusses in Tagalog (the Filipino language).

There is nothing I hate more than Filipinos who are ashamed of their nationality. Okay, that's not entirely true. I hate war, Bush, serial killers and some other things more. But it really makes me sad when I see Filipinos deny their "being Filipino." I don't mean those who were born in the United States of Filipino parents - although, I must admit, they used to irk me too. When I just moved here in the States and excitedly asked a Filipina-looking co-worker where in the Philippines she's from, she replied with "Oh, I'm not Filipino, I'm Hawaiian." When I met her husband a few years later, he introduced himself as Filipino, and claimed that his wife was too, but she grew up in Hawaii. Over the years, I've come to understand that Filipinos who were born here or spent most of their life here do consider themselves American, with no disrespect meant to their Filipino roots. That's just fine with me.

But going back to the girl who was born in the Philippines but is not Filipino, now that's the breed I take issue with. I am as mentally-colonized as the next brown being, embracing anything Western, but I have never and will never deny that I am Filipino. [The timing of that bold statement is ironic because I just sent my application for American citizenship to the US INS this morning.] Despite my dying my hair brown, trying to get rid of my accent, and applying for US citizenship (which is honestly just to avoid the hassle of those immigration lines whenever I travel), I am a Filipino in my heart, soul, bituka and balun-balunan. And this makes Filipinos who don't consider themselves as such not my friends.

I once had a co-worker (again!) who, although she introduced herself to me as Filipino, followed it up with "I'm a coconut - brown outside but white inside." Oh heavens! I've heard that connotation before but I never thought I'd actually hear it from someone! Later on, I heard that this lady owned an apartment complex, and she didn't rent out to Filipinos because "they tend to have a lot of family over". Oh hell! She has every right but please, don't let me meet any more people like these!

The Philippines is the world's second largest producer of coconuts*. I've never given that statement any thought until now.

*Socio Economic Research Portal

Same Indifference

2004-09-13T21:01:00.000-07:00

My blog is piling up with drafts that will never see the light of publishing day. My Laborious Weekend post was actually cut short because of a last-minute shopping trip with my mom to Target, and on the way there she got the very sad news that her mother died that morning. Since my grandma is in a province in the Philippines, she got the news via a text message on her cellphone. I don't know if that's worse than when I found out about my dad's passing away from messages in my answering machine, but I'm sure it's no less devastating. We turned the car around and headed to our church to pray, but it was closed due to the Labor Day holiday. So we just went home and she started making the dreadful calls.

Another event that made the whole world cold and prompted me to begin another draft was the tragedy in the Russian school seized by a group of terrorists who held hundreds of children and some parents hostage. The footage of the day-to-day events of this crisis was chilling, the newspaper accounts horrifying.

Yet another draft I started was about the anniversary of September 11, surely a cold day in our nation's history. I found myself deleting more words than I wrote, that I finally gave up any hope of an articulate output from these attempts.

Why can't I finish these posts? Because I am a cold, insensitive being. I did get sad for all these events, but they did not touch me as I think they should have. I felt bad that my mom went back home to the Philippines without seeing me shed a single tear for my grandma, whom I knew but wasn't close to. But I didn't want to fake it.

I remember when I was younger and wanted to cry, either to elicit sympathy from adults or because it was expected of me somehow, I would shut my eyes hard and think of the saddest thing that could ever happen to me. Most of the time, I morbidly thought of my mom dying, and that almost always did the trick. This time, I didn't dare use that trick to make myself sad for grandma's passing, it is just too scary to imagine.

As for the Russian crisis, I was detached from it the whole time. I did watch the news, read the papers and felt so sorry for the kids, but it was just another unfortunate event in the other side of the world for me. It didn't affect me as much as September 11, 2001. Three years ago I cried at every news story, prayed all the time, held my loved ones closer, thought a lot about my own mortality.

I was a warm, sensitive soul back then.

Laborious Weekend

2004-09-06T15:38:00.000-07:00

I am so tired. From all the running around and packing this long weekend. I have always thought it paradoxical that worker bees take the day off on Labor Day, but hey, I'm not complaining. I definitely needed this time to accomplish a lot of to do's.

This weekend is extra busy for me because I have my mom and my brother staying with me. We started Saturday with brunch at the Harbor Cafe, one of hubby and my favorite haunts down in Santa Cruz. We proceeded to my in-laws' deserted house at Pebble Beach to pick up entrance passes to the Monterey Bay Aquarium. We ended up staying longer than we expected because they're having problems with the ReplayTV we gave them for Christmas and we didn't leave until we fixed it. Then we headed out to the Monterey Bay Aquarium, which is always a good touristy place to take visitors to. I took some pictures of the fish, especially the sharks and some humongous yellow-fin tuna, but I was disappointed the sea otters were asleep. My brother, s-son and I were banging on the glass to wake them up, but they just rolled over and didn't even open one eye.

On the way home, I got hooked on my s-son's Bop It Extreme 2 game. His high score is 230 and I got up to 124, then he wouldn't let me play with it again, lest I beat his record. He, my brother and I played Pass It and we all had a blast (I could tell my hubby was getting jealous because he always tried to mess me up when it's my turn). Even my mom couldn't resist and tried her hand at it when we all got pooped. I always thought it was a kid's game and now I plan to buy my own (shhh, I'll try to beat 230).

Sunday we went to mass after having breakfast at home [I made sure the whole family went to a morning mass this time]. Then I took my brother and mother shopping at his favorite store whenever he comes to visit - TJ Maxx. My credit card got hammered again after buying clothes and toys for my dear nieces and nephew, plus of course a few things for poor 'ole me [hee hee]. I swear, one of this days, my credit card will jump out of my wallet and run away. I've been using it like it's free these past days.

Sson, who's so averse to shopping, was so cute. After mass, when he found out I was going to go shopping, he asks if my brother really has to go. They've gotten so close and he loves playing Halo on Xbox with him. I said my brother's the one who actually wanted to go shopping. He says that can't be right - boys hate shopping.

We then picked up hubby and sson had a very late lunch at Dairy Queen, after we found the Vietnamese and Japanese places we went to closed (it was only 3 pm!). That turned out a welcome treat, because it was one-hundred-four-freakin-degrees in San Jo, so the blizzards were lopped up fast.

We then dropped by the SJ airport to confirm my brother's reservation to Mexico, and found out that his secretary (I think they still call them that in the Philippines), failed to move his flight, so he was scheduled to leave the following day at 6 am! We were all bummed, especially sson. We all thought he had another full day with us.

When we got home, my mom, hubby and I finally started packing my hubby's ex-wife's china. I've been meaning to do this for years because my own china is still in their boxes and serve as an eyesore lined up on our kitchen wall. My mom told me I wouldn't get around to it without her, so I caved in and rolled up my sleeves (figuratively, because wearing sleeves in this weather would be idiotic). We wrapped each piece in bubble wrap and were very, very careful. Her china was very beautiful, it even matched the kitchen walls. One moving moment was when sson bounded into the kitchen and asked what we were doing. When I told him, and he asked why, hubby said "to make room for Vangie's china, because she is the mother of the house now, and we should've done this a while back." I was worried how he would take it, but he just shrugged and proceeded to help us, because he wanted his dad to play Halo with him. I was relieved, hugged him and then shooed him away because I cannot risk having a single piece from this exquisite china broken. In the end we had 4 huge boxes of delicate china on our kitchen floor. It's up to hubby to transport them to the ex-wife.

Monday morning we all took my bro to the airport. It was 4:30 am so we were in our jammies, and sson insisted on coming even though he couldn't even open his eyes. We saw him off, went home, and went back to sleep. Didn't wake up until 11:00 am.

To be continued...

Foot in Mouth Disease

2004-09-03T18:57:00.000-07:00

My brother arrived this morning from the Philippines (yay!). We're just a Labor Day weekend stop before he heads off to Mexico to setup a branch of his office there.

He has brought goodies for the whole family. As for the stories from home, two in particular struck me. First of all, a distant cousin of ours who has licked breast cancer suddenly had a heart attack and passed away. I didn't really know Ate Annabelle. I just remember her from when I was small and we'd visit them and she would be assigned to babysitting us kids because she's the youngest in their family. But a death in the family is always a big blow. She was in her early forties, pretty young for all that tragedy. May you rest in peace, Ate Annabelle.

The second story is a little lighter, although it disturbed me too. When my brother and sister-in-law attended my cousin's wake, an uncle they don't see often asked how many kids they have.

"Three," my brother replied.

"Oh, and I see you've got another one in the way."

That comment would've been fine except for one problem - my sister-in-law isn't pregnant. My brother chuckled at telling this story, saying that as expected, his wife went on a diet the next day.

I chuckled too, but then I tried to fathom how my sister-in-law would've felt by imagining that someone said that to me. Not good. I feel even worse because I have made the same mistake. At a party several years ago, I gleefully congratulated this lady I just met for her pregnancy. In my defense, her midsection was unusually large, akin to a 7-month-pregnant woman. Plus I've overheard two other guests discussing their surprise that this lady was "on the way." Since I'm not good at small talk, I went for the obvious. Except this time, the obvious wasn't true. I was so humiliated but probably not as much as she was. I swore I'll never presume anything of that sensitive nature again.

I need to go text my sister-in-law some cheer.

Lobster Lust

2004-09-02T22:29:00.000-07:00

The other night I saw the Red Lobster commercial on TV and I suddenly got a hankering for lobster. Since I don't know of any decent lobster places around here and hubby and I don't like going to the city, I dragged him and my mom to Red Lobster for dinner tonight.

They both suspect my craving is due to the fact that I'm infanticipating, but I really was just enticed by the commercial. And from Philippine folklore, I thought preggy craving meant for something weird like salty bananas or blue mangoes. I told them it's too early for that, and then slipped my husband a look that said "we better get going with that baby-making business soon".

Since I haven't been to Red Lobster in about five years, I was surprised by two things. First, that sucker was expensive! I thought it would be in the Olive Garden or Applebee's range, but their entrees were $20 and higher. And of course I had to get The Ultimate Feast, because I had to have me lobster! Second, the food was actually good. Red Lobster has been getting a lot of flak for their "fresh" food. I know it's one of Jay Leno's favorite monologue victims. So I was pleasantly surprised with the quality. The shrimp were so-so, but the lobster and crab me liked.

My meal was served with a ladle of drawn butter, so when we got home I made a beeline for the bathroom. Nope, I didn't get cold tonight, but sick instead. My tummy's still scowling at me as I type this. Hmmm, maybe Red Lobster does deserve the flak. Oh well, I had a good experience, so I'll definitely be back.

In about five years.

Just One of Them Days

2004-08-31T23:49:00.000-07:00

I just had a horrible day, work-wise. It was mostly caused by my temporarily taking over the webmaster position until I hire one, meaning I'm performing 3 jobs instead of my usual 2. However, what pushed it over the cliff was stupid Microsoft. Microsoft and its Service Pack 2. I was running after system administrators and working on 3 laptops to test the latest patches for my systems to be compliant with Mr. Gates' latest Service Pack.

patch (n.) Also called a service patch, a fix to a program bug. A patch is an actual piece of object code that is inserted into (patched into) an executable program. Patches typically are available as downloads over the Internet.

I need to get that jacuzzi I've been eyeing for sometime now soon. I would give my left shoe to be able to soak into a nice, jet-filled hot tub right now. I just had one of them days.

But I'm not taking it personal (sic).

I Didn't Get the Memo on Casual Sundays

2004-08-30T23:11:00.000-07:00

I don't like going to church in the evenings. Since I had an appointment with the house developers all morning yesterday, I had no choice but to attend the 6 pm mass. Which is my least favorite time to go to mass. Here's why.

Somehow, at least in our area, the people who attend the evening mass seem to be more casual and less solemn than the early goers. Last night, two pews in front of us sat two families whose teenaged children were all wearing shorts. Shorts. Call me old-fashioned but I believe this is very inappropriate for church. I used to not see why my father made a big deal of men wearing shorts to church. Now I feel exactly the same way he did.

Meanwhile, the moms of these families were wearing these short dresses that looked like tennis outfits. I don't think they came from a tennis match, but from whatever sport their kids played that afternoon. About ten minutes into the mass, another family with kids piled into the pew in front of these two families, and moments later the mom in this family turned around, realized she knew the families behind her, and they all started giving each other air kisses. In the middle of the frickin' mass!

They weren't the only culprits in my book. As I looked around, I saw a girl wearing a negligee-looking camisole, a guy who was in a tank top, an older lady in oh-so-tight white leggings and a smattering of more people in shorts - from skimpy, sporty ones to mumsy, bermuda types.

As you may have noticed, I get distracted easily. The attire, the lack of sobriety, the lackaidaisical attitude - they all bothered me. It seems that the evening mass is attended by two types of people:
1. those who really prefer ending their weekend with a blessing (I'd say about 30%)
and
2. those who were so busy with all their activities they just barely had time to squeeze church in at the end of the day (the rest of the flock)

I admit I belonged to the latter category yesterday. However, I dress up for every mass, morning or evening hour, hot or cold weather, and try to pay attention and internalize the scripture as much as I can. I say "try" because it's really hard with the evening crowd. Just in front of us was this couple who were stroking each other. It may not be malicious - the guy's arm was around the girl's waist, and the girl had her arm to her back caressing the guy's arm - but it was so wrong! It affected me so much I almost said something to them. I know hubby would disown me if I did so.

In contrast, the morning crowd consists of families who dress up specifically for church, arrive early and give their full attention to the priest. There are always the bored kids with happy feet or the agitated toddler who starts to cry, but their parents are quick to put them in their place with a stern look, a gentle tug or even taking them outside for a few minutes. Everyone's lively [albeit some are already thinking about the family lunch after the mass] and even the singing is resonant. Although last night's mass had a choir complete with an organist and drummer, the singing was not as fully participated as the early masses (or maybe I was just really blase at this point). Anyway, I was glad when mass was over.

I can't wait to go back to Formal Sundays.

The Calm Before the Storm

2004-08-27T02:31:00.000-07:00

Life is going well for me these past months. Very well. It's not perfect - I'm still not getting pregnant, my webmaster just quit, I'm gaining weight - but in general everything has been smooth and cheery.

Which scares the bejeezus out of me.

My natural pessimist nature makes me think that something bad will happen soon, because life can't be this good forever. I can't complain. I am so in love with my husband and notice every little thing he does that I normally would've taken for granted. My sson and I are getting along splendidly. We've always gotten along well, but recently, we've become really close and miss each other when apart. My mom's with me and we get to laugh and shop and talk all the time. Work is almost on auto-pilot, the only wrinkle being the webmaster's leaving. I even have a great investment opportunity in the horizon.

So why is there a deep anxiety in the pit of my stomach?

I've been this way as long as I can remember. It's not so bad until I become conscious of the fact. Once in a while, I stop and think "things are going great, what's about to break?" Unfortunately, something does break, which validates this misanthropy further.

Why can't I just enjoy all my blessings and leave it at that?

What Am I Worth To Ya?

2004-08-26T17:31:00.000-07:00

I had a job interview this morning with a fast-growing private Financial Investment firm. I have been stressing out the past couple of days (and neglecting this blog) due to this. It's not that I badly need this job. In fact, I am not actively looking for one. This opportunity came around unexpectedly.

Our company web developer, who reports to me, just quit and his new company wants to hire me. Apparently the CIO and a senior software engineer from that company have attended a User Group I hosted several months back and were impressed with my presentation. I don't remember their company nor their persons so I felt bad when I couldn't say something witty to them during the interview. They don't even have a concrete opening for me, they brought me in to interview for a DBA position and in the end they realized I am more of a developer and project manager so they said they will create a position for me. Wow, that must have been some presentation I did.

Why stress out then?
1. I haven't interviewed in over ten years.
2. I feel that my skill set is not a great fit for their requirements.
3. This job might turn out to be too good to pass up, and I will have to, gosh, quit.

I hate change. I am a creature of habit. On top of that, I tend to be obsessive-compulsive about things and once a routine is broken, I feel lost and discombobulated.

The reason I even gave this interview a try is to go through the experience, learn what I'm worth in the job market, have a security blanket that in case my current employment goes south - I will know how to go about selling myself. Since there are many factors going against this new opportunity (e.g. long commute, crowded work environment, all the hassles of a new job, etc.) I gave them a very high amount for my desired salary, $30K more than what I'm making now. I can't believe they were still willing to bring me in for an interview.

Now, after the interview, I'm sure I wouldn't want to work there. It's equal parts I didn't like the new place and I do like my current job. No, wait, I LOVE my current job. And you can't put a price on that. That's one of the realizations I had on my 45-minute drive back. If only for that, the stressing out over the interview was well worth it.

Do you love change, or resist it will all your being?

Universal Appeal

2004-08-21T00:19:00.000-07:00

Last Monday, my hubby, s-son and I bundled into my car at 5:00 in the morning and headed off to Universal Studios in Hollywood. It was sort of a spur-of-the-moment thing, only decided on a couple of days before. I was feeling guilty for not having taken s-son anywhere this summer, so I sprang for an annual pass for the three of us and combed the internet for a good place to stay.

Now I don't know why I got annual passes, especially since Universal Studios is a visit-once-in-your-lifetime kind of place, a comparatively small amusement park where you can see all the attractions in a day. I guess I wanted s-son to get a vacation out of it, plus I didn't want hubby to have to drive eight hours in one day. Imagine my remorse when, after having bought the pricey annual passes, I discovered that the hotel I booked for the night offered a second day at Universal for free! Argh!

Why Universal? I've sworn off Disney after one visit (with hours of it spent on lines to attractions). I knew I couldn't convince my family to go to Rodeo Drive, Sunset Drive or even NBC studios in Burbank to watch a taping of a show. So it was Universal for two days for our troop. Which was just fine with me.

I've always liked Universal Studios. My first visit there was with ex-boyfriend #2, and I had the best time! I was in love so everywhere we went was magical for me. Hmmm, on second thought, we also went to Disney on that trip and didn't care for it, so it must really be the place. The second time I was with three of my GWOSA friends and my friend Ulyie, and we also had fun. What added to the joy was we haven't seen the others in years and we all surprised each other such that two of the girls had no idea they would be seeing the rest of us. The third time was when I took my good friend Jenny and two visitors from the Philippines, and, all together now, we had a great time. I even won a gigantic Tweety Bird from the quarter toss game in the arcade. The fourth time was when I took my husband there for his birthday because, much to my shock, I found out that he has never been! Yes, we had so much fun. Which leads me to this, my fifth time, with my small family, and as I expected, we had a great time.

Understandably, Universal has updated some of their attractions throughout the years, but I've only noticed the most changes in this last visit. They've replaced the E.T. ride (which was one of my favorites, sniff) with the Mummy ride, which was just a regular roller coaster that took you forward and backward at breakneck speed. The thing that made it exciting was it was pitch black, so you'll never know what to expect. But the absence of dips was very disappointing. They've added new sights and trivia to the Studio Tour, like Whoville from the Grinch, or the stairs Jim Carrey rushed the dog from in Bruce Almighty. However, the trivia, albeit updated to appeal to the newer audience, sounded too familiar it smelled fishy... Jim Carrey rushing to the tram in full Psycho regalia, stabbing passengers with a rubber knife? Wasn't that role filled by Steve Martin a few years back? Or was I getting my comedians mixed up? In any case, I internally sulk at my bad luck of not seeing any actual movie stars whenever I'm in the studio lot.

A Van Helsing haunted house has been added, which was a major disappointment (if you're planning a visit there soon, do yourself a favor and skip this). They've abandoned Back to the Future and the Alfred Hitchcock movies in the Special Effects attraction in favor of the Nutty Professor, Van Helsing and The Mummy, which was just fine. The hosts were funnier this time around too. A new attraction, Shrek 4D, has been added and has become an instant favorite with everyone. Thank heavens the ever-reliable Jurassic Park, Terminator 2 3D, Back to the Future and Waterworld attractions were still around.

My s-son's favorite though was the Nickelodeon Blast Zone and the Wild Thornberry Temple Adventure, which basically consisted of shooting rubber balls at other kids (and some poor, unsuspecting adults). I'm still amazed how kids can spend hours shooting water guns and not get tired of getting wet. I joked to my husband we should've just poured buckets on s-son all day and saved the money. The only attraction we intentionally skipped was Spiderman Rocks, the Musical. Tell me you will see something called that!

While s-son gleefully played at Nickelodeon, hubby and I watched the Blues Brothers show, which I surprisingly have never seen before. We also played arcade games at the Flintstones area, where I won a medium Donkey and he won a huge Siberian Husky, after my persistent begging. You see, I LOVE winning stuffed toys at arcade games. I don't know why but I never outgrew this passion of collecting these creatures, which can get really expensive sometimes. I know it's stupid to keep throwing money when you're not winning, but the gambler in me kicks in thinking, I'll get it this time. If there ever was an Arcade Game Stuffed Animals Anonymous, I should be a member. "Hi, my name is Vangie, and I'm addicted to arcade game stuffed animals." I should feel bad beating seven little kids for Donkey in the water squirt game, but I don't.

Another habit I haven't outgrown, to my husband's consternation, is constantly looking for a good photo op. I had my picture taken with Shrek (on two occasions!), Donkey, Spiderman and the Fast and the Furious car while 9-year-old s-son wouldn't get caught dead with them. I think it's the combination of the Filipino and the vanity in me.

So, after two full and fun-filled days at Universal, we hauled our tired bodies to the car and headed home. We made a pit stop at the Gilroy outlets, where we nicely capped a happy short vacation with a shopping spree at Banana Republic (for me) and Billabong (for hubby and s-son).

Thank you, Universal Studios, for the many wonderful memories and great photo opportunities!

What's your Universal Studios?