New Shoes, New Life

My new Converse Jack Purcell shoes

I recently bought a new pair of shoes but they are more than just shoes, they represent a new way of thinking, a challenge... to be fun again.

A couple of months back, a good friend of mine and I were talking about the things we used to do that we now miss, things that we stopped doing because we thought we're "too old"; and we started sighing a lot, looking whistful. "What happened to us? We used to be fun?" I said and she agreed. I said, "We have to be fun again," but I never really tried. 

I guess when you're caught in the daily demands of being an adult, you lose sight of doing the things that are fun, that make you smile, that make you thankful to be alive, feel the warmth of the sun on your skin, the cool breeze blowing your hair... There are quite a number of things I gave up also because I think I'm too old for those, like owning a pair of Chuck Taylors. I've been thinking of buying one for years but always, I am stopped by the thought that I should now be dressing my age, not like I used to when I was in my 20s. 

I was scared of looking ridiculous. It's funny how we stop ourselves from doing things that are fun because of that fear of looking ridiculous. I remember a friend telling me once that the reason why kids are happy is because they don't know the meaning of ridiculous. 

And, it's also funny how we put limits on what we could do because we think we are "too old". There are reasonable limits I suppose but most of the limits I've put on myself, I've realized, is just plain crazy. I decided to stop climbing mountains when I turned 30 but come to think of it when I was climbing in my mid 20s, some of the people who were climbing with me were in their mid to late 30s, 40s and there was even one who was in his 50s. What the hell was I thinking?

Tired of hearing my I'm-too-old-for-that crap, a friend recently challenged me to think and act like I'm 10 years younger, and to be fun again. So now, I'm 29 years old again and I will have fun! 

The Jack Purcell shoes is not just a pair of shoes, it is a symbol of my commitment to be fun again; and it will not be my first and last pair of Converse. I definitely need to get a pair of Chucks.

1st Birthday

My brother just posted this picture on his Facebook page. It is a picture of me with him on my 1st birthday. I haven't seen this picture in ages. I've always thought it's funny - my brother in his striped shirt and shorts and me in a knitted dress, crying, wafer in hand. My mother said that every time someone would take a picture of me when I was very young, I would cry. Most of my pictures as a toddler always show me crying. I was such a cry-baby. I guess I still am.

On turning 39

You know you're getting old when almost all your Saturdays are spent waiting in doctors' offices and in undergoing tests instead of going shopping or going out of town. It's been like the for me since last month when I was confined in the hospital for two days and two nights - the very first time in my adult life that I was confined for an illness.

The first time I was confined in a hospital ever was when I was about one year old for an illness that I don't remember anymore. The second time was in 2007 when I had an executive check-up and was confined overnight. Then, early this year towards the end of January.

I will be turning 39 in a week and instead of going off somewhere to celebrate, I am now contemplating on scheduling a diagnostic procedure on my birthday, which will require me to yet be confined overnight in the hospital again. Ahhhh... I was surely not looking forward to April this year; and not looking forward to turning 39 simply because I know that it will be followed by the number 40, which I am dreading a little.

On a good note, however, yesterday I got the news that I tested negative for lupus. I breathed a sigh of relief.

On being sick and losing my appetite

I hate being sick. I hate being stuck in the house with a huge headache, aching muscles, bad tummy, feeling nauseous, and feeling chilly on a warm tropical night. I hate not being able to do anything but sleep, mope around and moan. I hate not being able to eat.

Now, that is a real sign that something is wrong with me. The only times I have lost my appetite are whenever I'm sick, when my father died, and when my mother went into a coma for a week before eventually passing away. I remember coming to school a week after my mother's funeral and one of my classmates commented on how awesome I looked having lost weight. With a big smile on her face, she asked, "What did you do? Did you go on a diet?" Poker faced, I answered, "My mother just died." For the first time in the years that I've known her, she didn't know how to respond to that one.

After my father died when I was five, I lost my appetite and grew really thin. My mother said I wouldn't eat even if she brings me my favorite food. She got so worried that she brought me to a witch-doctor to find out if some otherworldly being has been causing me to stop eating. The witch-doctor said that there are spirits who are feeling sorry for me because I have just lost my father. Now, how that affects my appetite is something I don't understand. Eventually, my mother found out that the spirits weren't causing my loss of appetite. I had primary complex. So, the doctor had me take some medicine and vitamins, and my mother decided to bring me to the province to live there and be brought to the beach every so often. Clean air and sunshine did me well.

I hate being sick. I think the universe heard me when I commented a week ago that I never get sick and how I wish I could get sick so I could have some time off work. Well, I got my wish. I had to even cancel an out of town trip at the last minute because I didn't think I would be well enough to make it. Was it worth it? No. I'd rather be well and in the office working than be stuck at home with a headache and a bad tummy worrying about meeting my deadlines, and peeking into my email once in a while. Hate it. Hate it. hate it.

I hate being sick but I'm better now. Headache's gone. Fever's gone. Tummy's better. The best thing of all is I have my appetite back. I think it's time for dinner now... and yes, I have to get back to work and meet my deadlines.

I need to think

I am standing amidst people coming and going, coming and going, coming and going... Everything is too loud. Everyone is shouting NOW! NOW! I can't even hear myself thinking. [sigh]

I'm having a bit of a scare

Been going through my old posts and I've just come to realize that my most commented post by far is the one on being uncoupled and childless at 33. I remember writing that after having dinner with friends, and it dawned on me that I am no longer as young as I thought I was.

Now, four years later and I am beginning to feel terrified of getting much older than I am now. And, yes, I am still beleaguered by questions of why I am still unmarried and childless; and answering these questions is beginning to be such a bore. Frankly, I couldn't care less what people think and say about this matter.

Right now, I am more preoccupied with thoughts of being a middle-aged woman. Heavens, even my hands look really old now as I tap at the keyboard. When coloring one's hair is no longer a fashion statement but a necessity (to cover up greying hair), one can't help but be scared. I am scared. I am terrified. I don't want to be old! There are still a lot of things that I haven't done in my list-of-things-to-do-before-I-turn-40 and I am running out of time.

The Perils of Love...

I've never been a fan of Valentine's Day. Love should be shown every single day. Flowers and chocolates should be given on a whim. Incidentally, I'm getting an automatic pepper mill from the loved one for Valentine's Day. How romantic is that? [hahaha] No, it wasn't really for Valentine's Day. Every day can be a gift-giving day for us. It just so happened to be Valentine's Day.

Of scents and memories

Today, I was listening to some therapists lecturing about dealing with smells that remind people of traumatic experiences, and I started thinking if I do have such memories. I think most of my memories of smells conjure very positive feelings and images.

The smell of freshly laundered clothes for example reminds me of my mother who always smelled clean and fresh, and the comforting feeling of being enveloped in her warmth and scent whenever I embrace her. The smell of old spice reminds me of my father and of running up to him to greet him when he comes home from work.

The smell of Tatiana and Charlie reminds me of older cousins whom I looked up to and who doted on me. The smell of Drakkar Noir reminds me of a boy I had a crush on when I was in high school, and the giggly feeling I get when he's around.

The smell of freshly cut grass reminds me of the university where I went to, and of walking or sitting on the grass with my friends. The smell of rosal reminds me of my childhood in the province particularly of the garden around my grandmother's house where I used to pick these flowers to bring to my teachers. The smell of dama de noche reminds me of the apartment in Quezon City where my brother and I grew up, and the time when the family was still together.

Yes, I guess my memories of smells are generally positive although some of these also bring up some sad feelings particularly because both my parents have already passed away, but I guess I've already learned to cope with this loss such that the feeling of sadness is no longer that strong. Instead, I am remembering the happy moments. Hmmmmm... interesting... I think I'm going to think about this some more.

Grieving never ends

It was my mother's birthday last week. She would have been 71 years old. It seemed like any ordinary day. I took the morning off to do some errands, went to the office to attend to a million and one things after lunch, and went home. But, it wasn't really an ordinary day. It was my mother's 71st birthday and it reminded me all over again that I have never really stopped grieving.

I was thinking of her the whole day, and I do think of her time and again. I think of her during holidays, during my birthday, during happy moments, and lonely moments... I think of her when I am trying to make a decision, wondering if she's nodding her head in agreement or shaking her head and looking at me like I'm crazy.

I miss her terribly... especially when I need someone who will make me feel loved and accepted no matter what crazy things I do. I miss her terribly when I am almost on the verge of tears or about to pull my hair out of frustration or stress. I remember her running her fingers through my hair to help me sleep at night or telling me stories about her childhood in the province, about the war, about her numerous suitors, etc. She was a storyteller. I learned to love listening to stories and telling stories because of her.

I am still grieving my loss, and I don't think it will ever really come to an end.

New Year's Resolutions

Someone just asked me what my new year's resolutions are. I don't normally think about resolutions anymore particularly because I always seem to fail at achieving them. So, why set myself up for failure year after year after year? Nevertheless, I still think about resolutions at the start of every year. I don't write about them anymore but I guess making New Year's resolutions is sort of a bad habit that is hard to break.

So, what are my resolutions for 2010... [thinking] I guess these would have to be the following:

(1) Stop neglecting my blog - The reason why I set up a blog is... hmmmm... I don't remember. I guess it was sheer vanity - the thought that I have something significant to say and that there are people (mostly close friends and relatives really) who are interested in reading what I have to say. So, I excitedly set up this blog in 2005 (changed the blog name and URL a few times) but somewhere along the way lost my momentum and got caught up in the day to day demands of life and my own doubts about having something significant to say. But, what actually got me inspired again about blogging is when a friend recently pointed out to me that I don't blog anymore. Apparently, she actually enjoys reading my blog.

So, I'm going to blog again. I guess it's also a good way of updating friends and relatives whom I don't see a lot about what I'm going through and what I'm thinking. A cousin of mine whom I haven't seen in ages recently shared that she read my blog and felt connected. I like that - people relating to my own experiences, feeling connected...

(2) Go back to the gym - Okay. I say this every year but when I have to stay in the office until 7 or 8 in the evening, it gets so hard to find the motivation to still go to the gym. I need to get a trainer.

(3) Meditate - I've been trying to be more meditative for years but I haven't so far succeeded in doing this. Every time I sit down to meditate, my mind continues to wander and I keep thinking, I don't have the time to do this, which is certainly not true. I have the time. I just don't make time for it. I have to stop and think and feel and reflect... I'm reading "Buddhist Meditations for People on the Go" now.

I guess these three resolutions are good enough for now, and achievable. I hope I'll be better this year at working on these resolutions.

Bad start?

My mother always said that whatever happens on the first day of the year will happen for the rest of the year. Well, I spent most of Jan 1 in bed with a migraine. So if that is a portent of the days to come then the whole 2010 would be one big headache for me. [sigh]

Early morning bitching

If things seem unreal or too good to be true, it’s because they are.

We go through life wishing that our lives would be different from everyone else in the world, that our dreams would come true, that nothing bad would happen to us, that we would always get what we want, that the universe would be kind to us because we are special...

Well, the truth is - each and everyone of us is just one of the five thousand roses in the garden - all struggling to live in ways that would be meaningful to us. Some dreams are crushed. Bad things happen to us no matter how careful or conscientious we are in living our lives. The world is not our oyster and we will never get everything that we want. The universe continues to throw us curve balls, and all we could really do is to deal with it all.

So, from now on I will be more realistic about my expectations in life. After all, life is under no obligation to give me what I expect. What a bitch!

Thoughts on Christmas Day

Finally, Christmas Day. I have been looking forward to this day for months. I am not a devout Christian but I love Christmas because it is a generally happy day for almost everyone. I love the festivities, the christmas trees, the colorful lights, the presents, the ready smile on people’s faces...

My Christmas day this year was a quiet one. I spent most of the day fast asleep since we stayed up till the wee hours of the morning because of an over-extended Christmas Eve dinner. The rest of the day went by like any other day albeit with more eating in between watching the television, checking my Facebook, checking my work email, re-heating food from the fridge, washing dishes, and worrying about the work that I’m supposed to be finishing to meet my Dec 27 deadline.

This is definitely not the kind of Christmas day that I wanted but what can I do? This year has been a crazy year for me -- too crazy, I didn’t even have the time to set up my Christmas tree or do my Christmas shopping. After waiting for it for a very long time, Christmas day is over... so soon.

Gym-rat wannabe

I have finally gone back to the gym. Yes, back to pumping iron - something that I wished I never had to do again for the rest of my life but alas, I have not been blessed with a highly active temperament and a fast metabolism.

Oh well... I have to get healthy especially now that I'm getting older and older by the minute - that is my main motivation. I have finally decided that perhaps dying young (ahhh...relatively) may not be a good idea. After all, there are still a lot of books in my bookshelf that I have yet to read and still a lot of places that have yet to be explored. Fitting into my favorite clothes from 8 years ago (when I was a young gym rat), of course, would be a bonus. So, I've found my motivation... now, I just have to get used to the routine and... yes, the crazy people at the gym.

The other night, I had the most unfortunate encounter with Mr. Pant-Aloud. I was on the treadmill, ruminating when suddenly I heard some guy a few treadmills away from me gasping for air... panting so loud I thought he was having a heart attack. Apparently he's just enjoying the run... so much so he sounded at times like he was having sex (not a pleasant thought, believe me)... or a heart attack... or both... This panting aloud is interjected from time to time with a hearty "HOOO" as if he's watching a basketball game and his team just scored. Por dios por santo, why can't he just run and quietly breathe in and out like the rest of us normal people? I've worked-out in a couple of gyms before and this is the first time that I've encountered someone like this... and I really find him irritating as hell.

Oh well, at least he could be fodder for my blog... and so are the other crazy people at the gym. Hmmmm... I think this is another good motivation to go to the gym regularly.

Just Moved In

For the umpteenth time, I've moved again... and this time to an old apartment near the office. Yes, old... not bad looking (has character)... good location (quiet neighborhood without noisy call center agents as neighbors)... relatively cheap (trying to save money)... huge closets (very important to hide old papers and clothes-that-don't-fit-anymore-but-i-love-too-much-to-give-away), huge windows but old... as in creaky wooden floors, old fashioned bathroom and kitchen sink tiles, window screens... [sigh] My apartment needs a make-over, badly.

Bad Hair Day

For the first time in my life, I had my hair permed. I was actually going for the bohemian goddess look (think Kate Hudson) but I ended up with the Sto. Niño look... or worse... the Ugly Betty look. Thank god, I have no braces.

Now, why would anyone want to have curly hair when every Filipina seems to want long, straight, shiny black hair? I don't know... I guess I just wanted to be different... try something new. I was getting extremely tired of my hairstyle. I've always worn my hair either extremely short or long but tied up in a pony tail.

Nope, I wasn't blessed with long, straight, black hair. Mine is wavy, not so black, and not shiny. I've tried having it relaxed but the waves return after a while; and my hair stylist said my hair strands are too thin to be subjected to rebonding.

Yep... but apparently it was okay to subject it to perming. The result - an even frizzier hair... and yes, the love of my life was right in saying that it didn't help improve the way I look. Damn. And, I spent a couple of thousand pesos on it. [sigh]

Writer's Block

I'm on a deadline. I should be writing something to send to our funding agency but I CAN'T THINK! Hate this... hate this... hate this... In two hours, I have so far I've managed to write two lines. Arrrggghhhh....

Constantly Moving

I just moved residence again... for the umpteenth time. It took us a while to find the perfect unit - two bedrooms, great view, new, affordable ... err... at least worth the price. We never thought we'd have a hard time finding one actually considering that we were willing to pay an arm and a leg (from our point of view) for cool digs (oh, how 70s?), and that the condo building we were eyeing was fairly new (and seems unoccupied). As it turned out, there are not that much available units anymore particularly the ones with great views (i.e., where you won't see construction sites or the neighboring buldings outside your windows). Fortunately, we found one that has a fantastic view of Ortigas and C5 (especially in the evening).

Anyway, I hate moving... (yet in my 34 years I have moved 14 times!) I hate having to pack and unpack, sort and dispose of things, request for change of address, request for termination/connection of services ... [which reminds me I still have some change of address requests to do]. I'm happy with our new home but this constant moving around is no longer as exciting as it used to be. I guess I'm already looking for a place where I could stay for years and years, and grow roots. I'm planning not to move again for the next three years at least.

Two Marriages on the Rocks and a Funeral

Death and dying used to scare the hell out of me but as I got older I guess I've learned to accept that dying is the only thing that I could be certain of in my life.

A dear old uncle of mine died a couple of months ago. It was something I knew would happen soon the last time I saw him. He was very sick and thin... quite not like the sharp-witted, opinionated man I knew from way back.

I have witnessed many deaths in my family but I don't think I'll ever get used to it. Every death brings pain and a sense of loss that I think never really goes away. Nevertheless, each death also makes me appreciate every single day that I have in my life - crappy or not; and makes me more conscious of how much attention I'm giving to every single person that I love and care for. Carpe diem!

I went back home to the province to attend his funeral and as is always the case, funerals also become reunions for relatives and friends that we don't keep in touch with so often; and a couple of friends from way back came to say their condolences.

I am always happy to see old friends and am always interested in finding out how they're doing in their lives. Unfortunately, like everyone else, not all of my friends are living happy, problem-free lives. One has filed for an annulment and another one is having problems with her husband.

While we were sitting round the table and we were talking about our lives, I just realized how incredibly grown up we are now. Sometimes, I still think of old friends as they were when I first met them in grade school or high school. These women whose marriages were falling apart used to play with me in school - we made our own paper dolls and staged our very own beauty contests for paper dolls during breaks. Now, we're playing a different game... a game where real hearts are broken and dreams are dashed.

Death and marriages falling apart... ah well, these are all part of life and of growing up. If I only knew, I wouldn't have hurried to grow up soon.

Thoughts on a rainy Monday afternoon

It's been raining non-stop where I am and I am stuck in the office making sense of a badly written project report. The quality of education in the Philippines has, indeed, deteriorated. Even college graduates cannot write grammatically correct English. Instead of just commenting on the content of the report, I am so tempted to make grammatical corrections. Arrgghh…

We, Filipinos, have always bragged about being an English-speaking Asian country but we seem to be slowly losing this advantage. More and more people seem to be unable now to consistently speak and write grammatically correct sentences (that makes sense) in English. Some even make use of big words whose meaning they don't even clearly understand; thus, making their ignorance even more obvious. Arrrghhh…

I wish it is summer and I'm lazily lounging by the beach reading a good book and staring into turquoise waters. Sigh.