Re-decorating

So- I'm completely unsatisfied with the color we chose for the main living area of our very humble abode. I figure that the easiest and cheapest way to recitify this situation is the change the curtains from burgandy (of course) to a light plaid yellow/burgandy, so the room doesn't look too focused on red.

I checked this weekend. And curtains aren't cheap. Damn it.
And I wanted to change the shower curtain in the bathroom too.

In reality, it would make no difference because we don't really have people coming over...

iSlow

Of all the years I've been in school, I never learned to speed read! What the f***!

The closet...

So, I finally got it over with. I ended up chatting with the ex the other day. My friends hope that this means the end of those stupid dreams- dreams that depict us yelling at each other. I don't know why we'd fight when, supposedly, there's nothing left to fight about. Anyway, Ced told me that, in order to get on with it, I'd have to chat with him and close the book somehow. I don't know why it's still open. I guess that some things in the past don't really stay there.

The conversation was actually comforting because, oddly, it was like talking to a very old friend. There was an unspoken history, understood by the both of us, but neither mentioned. I think it was good that we caught up with each other, even though it felt like many years in the making. After the conversation, I finally felt at peace and very comfortable in my present skin. I didn't have any feelings of "what if" and "too bad." I really didn't feel much at all. All I knew was that I was talking to someone I have know for 14 years, someone who kind of still knew me.

Of course, we did talk about me being married and why he wasn't. There was something he mentioned that put the period at the end of a very long sentence. He told me he was happy that Francis is a good guy. And for some weird reason, I felt comfort in knowing that he approved. (Kel actually told me the same thing about a month ago, which brought about the same feeling.) It's hard to describe, but to hear that from the two people who caused me to question my self-worth made me feel kind of triumphant.

I remember almost 10 years ago, I thought I could see ghosts, but I was really just disturbed. As for the dreams, I think I'll sleep better from now on.

I did have a dream the other night about my closet- it was empty. No sign of ghosts or skeletons...

Disclaimer: Francis knows about the chat and I told him. He laughed it off because he's secure in my adoration for him...this is why I married him...

Reminders from God

I'm really burnt out.

I added this widget on my iGoogle page, Reminders from God. This is what I got: You must rely on Me. You must wait, trust, hope and joy in Me. This is the great test.

So, I stand corrected and reassured.

I'm still run down, but there should be a good reason for it.

Detox

The past month has been one of the busiest months we've had this year. My cousin, Barbara, left for San Francisco on Aug. 10. I'm glad that she stayed our condo for two weeks. We were able to reconnect and it was nice. She always been like a big sister, like her sis Julie, to me. So, when she left, I was really sad because I knew we wouldn't be able to see each other again for a while and even when I did go back to the Philippines, we might not get the chance to spend the same quality of time together.

The Tuesday after that, Francis and I went back to Immigration in downtown LA to follow-up our request for him to leave the US while his petition is pending, in order to attend Vanessa's (his sister) wedding. We were berated by the first officer who attended to us, stating that a wedding is not considered an emergency. Francis and I were a bit ashamed that we were begging to leave for a wedding while the people around us in the same office were struggling to see their ill relatives. After three hours of waiting in agony, Francis was finally granted the visa, which was a miracle. Thank God!

We went home to buy our tickets, God put Priceline on this earth for situations such as this. Then, we went to Ontario Mills to get my bridesmaid's dress. This was the only place that carried the same color and style that my cousin in-law bought in New York. It was the last dress, it was my size, and it was on sale. (I'm glad I went on that diet for a month and lost 10 lbs.!) God was really making everything work out and fall into place. We arrived in Montreal on Friday midnight, after missing our 6 am flight and enduring a five hour layover in Chicago. Thanks to United for letting us purchase a confirmed ticket after missing the flight or else we would have flown stand-by to Montreal.

The wedding was beautiful and my family there was family. We had dinner with Elisa and Paolo (who just got engaged) at Janno. We were glad to be back. I just wish that we could go as often as we used to. We weren't able to leave on Monday, Aug. 20, because all the flight schedules were screwed up due to the weather in the East Coast. Because we opted to fly the next day, United gave us a confirmed DIRECT flight from Montreal to LA and even comped us for our meal. We flew Air Canada. This is always an enjoyable experience because we had our own TVs with a good number of choices of movies, shows, and XM Radio and the seems were comfortable.

When his parents were driving us to the airport, I noticed we were talking about regular mundane things, to kill time, I suppose or fill in the increasing void. The good-bye at the airport was hard, but inevitable (only to be taken back after we found out we couldn't leave that night). We ate at La Belle Provence because Francis was craving poutine (fries with cheese and gravy). We spent a couple of hours at the Montreal Casino with Mom and Dad and left on Tuesday.

Three days later, Randy and Simon arrived with Bun and Carey. They came to spend the weekend in LA. We had a great time, though, the throng of people cut our site seeing short. We went site seeing and found a great Thai resto in our neighborhood. Yum. Our guests left on Monday, Aug. 27.

I've been trying to recuperate from the past three weeks. I need to detoxify because of all the food we ate. I went to work after 7 am every day week. Overall, we're happy and grateful. We really thank God. We put everything in His hands and everything turned out better than we expected.

I also got a great mid-year review today, which was a good way to start Labor Day weekend!

Baby Fever

Everyone's having a baby. My best friend just a had a baby. Handsome Ethan. I think about him all the time. I want to meet my kids soon. Francis and I decided to try next year. We'll finish school first, he said.

It makes sense. No more books. Just my baby.

Sundays

It's 2:30 p.m. On Sundays, our schedule revolves around the time we go to church. This Sunday, we've scheduled to attend the 5 o'clock mass. I'm trying with hard to benchmark Apple. I can't find anything substantial. I can't seem to get through my classes without struggling. I'm two subjects away from getting my MBA, but I can barely breathe.

Other than that, I'm doing fine. I'm stressed. Worried about finances among other things. I'm also worried about my parents' health, my mom in particular. Since I was a kid, I've been afraid of the future, especially a future that doesn't include my mom. It's hard to force your parents to take care of themselves. We'll never know better than they do. I just hate the fact that she pushes herself too hard.

They're on their way back from Arizona. May the Lord protect and guide them home safely.

Today

I will see the best in everyone...even if it hurts.

For a while...

I'm back, Biatch. I was on hiatus, but I'm back. (I would write more but my previous post was deleted.)

On the ship part deux

So, I'm on the boat again. It's been 11 days since I've seen land. I went up to have breakfast this morning and saw a haven of food: biscuits and gravy, spam, sausage, pancakes, plantains, apple strudels, bacon, eggs, rice and oatmeal. I had oatmeal and, though I was tempted to grab a biscuit, my taste buds and stomach begged for me not to.

I can't wait to get back home, home to my husband (who has yet to move down to California). We were wed about 2 weeks ago and 2 days later went home on separate planes to different places. So much for being practical, eh? It gets the best of me, but things have to be done. I realize that life is full of endless sacrifice, really. Whether we're aware of it or not, there is always something that we let go of or delay for later in exchange for something else, something supposedly better. This time it's a little more real, you know, the whole sacrifice thing. It's a bit more tangible. I've sacrificed for other people before- my parents, brothers and sister- but it wasn't really a conscious decision, more like a conscientious one. They didn't know, of course; I didn't, either. It wasn't too obvious because I was really doing what was expected. I a still am, I guess. There really isn't anything else to do as the oldest kid in the family except for set an example and making sure you have your shit together so the younger ones can't disregard your warnings and so-called teachings and throw back in your face what a huge fuck-up you are. It's true. It's like your shield, your defense. Well, now it's a sacrifice that two people have agreed upon and are living up to. Isn't that what marriage is about? Sacrificing for each other's sake? Caring a bit more for your partner than for yourself, so much so that you set aside...yourself?

I don't know, really, what's it's supposed to be about. I mean, we went to the seminar and received bucketsful of advice from so many different sources, but I don't know what marriage is about. I've seen too many falter and too many break and too little that have lasted and have been saved. I know that I married this person whom I love, absolutely, without reservation.

Note: I wrote this almost a year ago. I still don't know much about marriage, but I'm enjoying every second of it.

We're still on the ship, and I don't know if that's the reason why I feel like a whale (balyena) right now. It looks like I poured water on the bottom half of my stomach and it absorbed it like a sponge. By the time we get back, I will have been here a total of 28 days. It's not all too bad, to be honest. I get up and walk to work. I'm almost always here at 630am. I'm never really bored because all I do is work. There's a gym and movies to watch. I have 3 full meals a day, my bed is always fixed, and I don't really have to worry about my laundry. It's almost like a cruise with responsibilities. There were nights before the launch that we barely had any sleep at all. We were on stand by for Helo Operations on the first few days. Not speaking Russian did pose some difficulty in organizing the throng of people we had to get to the platform. International companies are very unique because you learn how to convey messages without speaking. I learned to put groups together by pointing to people and holding up fingers for the the group number. After a while, our Russian partners started to find this amusing because I think I looked like a confused Asian doing some kind of dance. I've gotten to know a lot of the people, which is what I love the most about this. It's always great to put a smile on other peoples' faces.

The Holidays and then some

So, the holidays were great. Two weeks of snow and family gatherings, the atmosphere was warm and welcoming. I left with swollen eyes because I cried so much the night before. I came back on the 4th of January as planned but fell ill the next day. I guess it was a lot. I was tired from my vacation.

On January 7, we drove to Vegas and got married. Really. This is a true story. We had been contemplating it, since the plan was for him to start school this Spring. The wedding was great, short and sweet, but he ended up going home and will be starting school in the summer. We're now focused on the big celebration in the Philippines, which has, inevitably, been the subject of my energy and worry. I'm glad, though, that I have family and friends who have extended their support and assistance. It's not as comforting, though. Somehow, the thought of asking other people do my legwork doesn't feel right. I'm helples and 16,000 miles away (I think).

Anyway, amidst this chaos that is my wedding preparation, I try to remember how much this will all be worth it. Really. I try.

Montreal Christmas

Mom said I could go to Montreal for the holidays. I plan to leave on December 19 and come back on the 3rd of January. I also have a great discount from Northwest, which makes the cost of the plane ticket quite bearable.

But...

Because there's always a but...

My Boss2 has asked me to wait till Friday to book my flight. I might have to work during the holidays, which is okay. But I hate waiting (always have and always will). However, I would love to spend the holidays with my psuedo/future-in-laws before the big day. It might make Francis' departure from home a nicer occasion.

It's weird that I won't be able to spend time with my family this Christmas. It's even weirder that Francis is leaving Montreal. That's how it is, I was told, when you go off and get married. Things change. Your life changes. You have to let go of certain things and step out of your comfort zone. We're both very attached to our family, but it's harder for him because he's the one moving. So, the next year or couple of years will be spent on adjusting. I think that, though we are grown-ups (kind of) and mature enough to decide for ourselves, we haven't quite gotten a hold of the fact that we're not going to be sheltered by our parents anymore. It's like going to college for LIFE- a barrage of new beginnings, challenges and constant learning. It's going to be for good, for keeps, forever.

Forever.

For Life.

Same person, same face, same gooey eyes in the morning. Same hands, different day. Same plans, different thoughts, thousands of arguments, plus weight-gain and babies, and homes and bank accounts and decisions. All these decisions. So many things to choose from. Each choice is a chance to change our lives.

I'm so excited.

I think I'm going to pass out.

The Lamp

So last night, Francis and I had an argument about replacing the lamp in my room, because, for some odd reason, the bulb in it generates too much heat. I don't really get this. Maybe, it's because I don't really like being in a chilly room or he's just used to the cold weather in Montreal. Either way, I find it unnecessary to purchase another lamp.

Then I realized that if we're arguing about a lamp now, what more is there to argue about later? Do I have more lamp, cushion and paint color arguments to look forward to? Does real life really take over relationships? Will we really be so close that there's no where to hide?

Francis and I have put a lot of heart and thought into this decision. We're standing by it even if we do have to argue about who gets the remote and who has to wash the dishes. Even if I've heard the worst things about marriage, I'm still looking forward to it. I'm glad we're this close, as if the 23 years we spent apart was just a journey and the US that is NOW is the destination.

We're going to take it one day at a time. We'll figure it out. Really. We will. Even if it takes 50 years and a thousand stupid lamps.

Twenty-five

So, my birthday is in a couple of days. Twenty-five. (Give me a sec. to let it sink in...)

My friend says that it's downhill from there.

Does it matter? No.

Because I did everything I was supposed to do at 30 when I was 23. (This doesn't include finishing my Masters, but, at least, I've started it.)

I look back ten years. I was 15, a sophmore in high school. I think I was more understanding and patient then. When you get older, they say you become set in your ways. Certain things become black and white. Your life starts to pan out, be it planned or unplanned.

I'm grateful for where I am.

But I'm not content.

I feel like I'm running out of time.

If I stand still, I won't be able to catch up. Sometimes, I'm moving so fast, I can't breathe.

This year, I'll make it my own. Each day will be brand new. No more past worries. I will slow down and take a breath.

The Announcement

So, I'm getting married. Next year. In the Philippines. Which explains why I haven't been writing lately. The past two months have been a blur. Francis asked my dad for permission in July. Our parents talked a week later. It's been pretty chaotic...on my side of the fence. The whole engagement/wedding/marriage thing is a long time coming. We've been talking about it since we met. No kidding. Now that it's finally here, it feels so surreal...

Sometimes, I react too quickly, without thinking, nerves wired, temper rising, words spilling out of my mouth.

Sometimes, I feel life is so dispairing, like this will never end. Sometimes, I don't even know what this is.

I'm starting to loath LA. I hate the traffic, the expensive real estate, the fact that 20 miles is 45 minutes away.

I want to get out of here.

But how? This was my choice. Can I go on vacation for a year and pretend I have no responsibility? Can I go on hiatus like a movie star and choose not to work for a couple of months?

Unpoetic

It's become a burden to write. I used to be able to put everything in words, all the anguish and memories and worries. I feel like everyone is playing tug-of-war with me; they need this, they need that, can't you do this better, why are you just sitting there, what are you going to do next, if you don't do it now, you might now have tomorrow... and on and on. I'm tired. I really am. I'm tired of being responsible, and, yet, that's the way I am. I've tried to be reckless, but it's against my nature. I tried to get mad drunk and dance on a bar, but, instead, I fell asleep on my friend's couch. I tried to drive away, but came home in two days. I am more relaxed at work than I am at home.

It was easier to write about love two years ago when I thought that the only way my heart would ever be was broken. I'm actually happy now, and it's hard to write about being happy-in-love without cringing. Really. My feelings seem less intense when verbalized, because I don't hurt as much. There are many eloquent words for pain and sadness and anguish. Also, I whine more now than think. I hate feeling anything when I'm stressed because sometimes it's paralyzing. So, what do you talk about when you're happy-in-love and stressed because life seems a bit more difficult than you expect? Nothing, you take a breather, you leave, you try to find something dramatic or worthwhile. Or you let it find you.

On dysfunctional relationships

When I was younger, I used to think that love, like money, grew on trees. All you had to do was wait for the right season to pick the ripest fruit; that love would bloom no matter what.

Bullshit.

Love, like money, is hard to come by. You have to bust your hump trying to get it. Sometimes, it eludes you, sometimes, you're broke, and the chances of winning the lottery are unlikely. But when you do, it's best to learn how to keep it. When things come in a mad rush of excess, you'll tend to take it for granted.

It's very hard to be articulate about cheaters and being cheated on. The only reason I mention this is because it seems to be happening too close to home. My girl friends are experiencing it and I try my best to talk them through it. I wish I could be there, you know, to just be there. I knew their boy friends and I knew how they were. Even I was shocked to hear what had happened and how they treated my friends, but certain things come to an end, whether we accept it or not.

I can't say I never saw it coming. Being the person outside looking in, it's easy to say that the relationship is doomed. But I couldn't do that. I couldn't tell my friends that the relationship is dysfunctional. They wouldn't believe me and they would try to prove me wrong. This is the tendency of the woman: to be loyal without thinking. We like to avoid "warning signs" for some odd reason. I think that a lot of us have the tendency to be stupid optimists (at times). He'll change, eventually. He's not always going to be this way. Some day he'll start thinking straight. Then we realize he's not ever going to change, that his life is having it's own party and we're not invited. Most of the time, we understand this too late, when we're in the throes of "unconditional love" and nothing is more important than saving the relationship and saving him.

Anyway, to make a long story short, there's nothing more that I want for my friends than to be with the person who loves them in the simplest, most uncomplicated way there is. I know their pain, I know how hard it is. You think that the world is crashing down on you, but when you wake up the next day, the ceiling is still there, the sun is out and everyone is happy except you.

My girls will eventually pick up and move on, but betrayal changes a life. I know it's changing theirs.

Paychecks

I got paid yesterday. I didn't see a dime. Everything went to bills.

My brother, on the other hand, got his first paycheck today. He has more money than I have, he only worked part-time, and I earn way more than he does.

That's depressing.

Adulthood sucks.

I hate bills.

Worth

Of the many things I may complain about in my life, there is nothing that makes it more worth it than seeing my family happy. A couple of Sundays ago, the four of us were at home at the same time during the day. We were all talking and joking and laughing. It was a good feeling to know that we're together and that we have each other to go home to.

Mowlin Roge

I struggled to pay attention to the movie, but I couldn't. I now officially hate musicals on TV.

I knew I should have watched the Law & Order marathon instead.

Alone

I'm alone at home. There is peace and quiet. I'm watching a movie and trying to relax. Yet, I can't seem to sit still.

I feel the need to go to mass.

But I'm still here. Alone.

Sawa

Last week I was fed up. I couldn't take it anymore. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't think. I was tired, fed up, pissed off.

I decided on Friday morning, on my way to work, that I had a choice to leave. So, I did. I went to San Francisco. I drove 500 miles by myself. If I stayed, I would have gone postal, like Michael Douglas in "Falling Down."

I needed to be far away and reconnect with the one person who's known me since I was nine- my best friend since the 4th grade. We drove around our old neighborhoods, which weren't as clean as they used to seem. When we're kids, there are just certain things that we don't see. Our eyes are small. Our hearts are big. We don't see black and white. We only know good and bad.

It was great to be back to a home where the fog comes in like big arms that hug you. All the comfort in the world I would find in the mist that covered my house and the streets. A city so beautiful, I relived it's history everyday.

It was good to be away, but I was happy going back. SoCal isn't always so great, what with the traffic and the way of living, I suppose. But it grows on you. I love the sun. The winters filled with rain. The too many places to go. The people I don't like seeing. The endless opportunities. My friends. My family.

And there's still no place better than sleeping in my own bed.

Therapy

I never understood the concept of fruit and chocolate mixed together. Puke.

I did nothing today. I didn't clean. I didn't obsess. I didn't move. I woke up, walked to the living room, and laid down again. It felt kind of weird to be idle, but it's my only way to recover from stress and fatigue. (Talking like an old woman again.) I also went shopping and bought a pair of jeans and a nice blouse. Charged it.

There's nothing like shopping and the familiar swipe of plastic to make me feel whole again.

Sigh.

Reruns

I'm still awake.

Fuck! I knew this would happen. I went to work today, and, out of total boredom, I had a cup of coffee. As much as I love that stuff, I have refrained from drinking it in the afternoon or at night because it makes me paranoid. Even though watching the news depresses me, apparently reruns of Law & Order and CSI don't. I found this out one night after watching the former and wondering if I should sleep with a bat next to my bed just in case the psycho from the show crawls in through the window.

Anyway, I have anger issues and I'm depressed for some reason. I argued with Francis till he agreed to forget whatever didn't happen, which supposedly ticked him off. I was tired. I didn't see the point in dragging it on. Our conversation, though as animated as it usually is, was dry.

I didn't have the greatest day. I bet those who ticked me off had it even worse. I lost it this morning and pissed off everyone else at home. Now, I'm still awake, remembering all that happened today. Torture.

Like reruns in my head.

My signature

So the other day, I snapped at Francis because he questioned why I signed my whole name on receipts and documents. I like my name. I like signing my name. That's the way my signature has looked ever since I was in college.

I love my whole independent, think-for-myself thing, but I have to admit, this comment (though I hated it) has affected my signature. In order to change it, I will need to contact the bank and the credit card companies to resubmit a sample. You know, with identity theft and all, you can never be too careful.

Anyway, we got into a big fight last night. I mean huge. There was arguing and crying and the click of the phone and a lame text message (on my part). It's all about what could have been. Apparently, I put my head in the wrong place even though my heart was where it was supposed to be. And he, on the other hand, I think, sees one tiny part of the whole other side of the story.