Showing posts with label Musings. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Musings. Show all posts

Tuesday, November 20, 2007

h0liDae sEa5oNs

Josh Groban came to the Philippines recently. Tickets for his concert cost between PHP3,000 to PHP25,000 (approximately USD70.00 to USD591.00) and Groban still packed 'em in here in "impoverished" Manila, Philippines! He even brought two of the most influential, still powerful, and politically-opposed women in the country, Former First Lady Imelda Marcos and Former President Corazon Aquino, together under one roof, without any political agenda whatsoever.

With the holiday seasons quickly creeping up on us, I wonder how "impoverished" Filipinos will be in term of their spending to give our other underprivileged countrymen peace of mind at this time of the year...

Saturday, August 11, 2007

I'm supposed to...


1. be working
It's a bright sunshiny Sunday. Quite unusual since it's been raining everyday for the past couple of weeks. Had our usual Sunday breakfast in a restaurant - today, it was at a hole-in-the-wall place called "Dragon House" along M.H. Del Pilar in the City of Manila. Dragon House has THE best meatball congee in the entire world. Their pork siomai recipe came from the gods. Total bill for breakfast: PHP576.00. That's about US$13.00... for five people with very very full stomachs.

Those are two good reasons why I'm blogging instead of working. It's too great a day to be thinking about sales reports...

2. be laundering my ball gown, the one I wore to a party last year
...but I'm too lazy. So, the ball gown lies in wait.

3. be watching a re-run of this past week's CSI: Las Vegas programme
However, my dad has other ideas. He's now plopped down in front of his precious television watching an NBA game. NBA Season is over, by the way, so he's watching a re-run. Yep, we in the family loooove re-runs.

4. be helping mom cook lunch.
But I'm still full from breakfast. So, I'm faking a stomach ache.

5. be paying my credit card bills via Internet now.
The stupid credit card company's website is down!!! Grrrrr... if they charge me with another late fee, I'm gonna go on the warpath, I swear to god.

6. be working now.
Okay, bye.

Saturday, August 4, 2007

Tah-dah!

My friend Ganns was showing me his new shoes the other day. He blogged about those said shoes, and the owner of the shoe store and/or designer of the shoes himself dropped by on his blog, and ¡VOILA! Ganns tells me that he's getting a new pair of shoes FREE because of the free advertisement he's given to the shoe-guy online.

So, listen up, Mr. Marc Jacobs, Ms. Monique Lhuillier, Mr. Ben Chan, Mr. Jeffrey Lubell, and Mr. Randy Ortiz... consider yourselves advertised on. Hope you drop by! Oh, and it wouldn't hurt, either, if Mr. Henry Sy sees that I'm plugging his SM chain of stores here, too.

I accept anything you're willing to offer.

Friday, June 8, 2007

Lucky 8's


Time.com reports that the best wedding date ever is 07 July 2007, a.k.a. 7/7/7. Not only are Tony Parker and Eva Longoria tying the knot on this day, so are Wolfgang Puck and fiancee Gelila Assefa and ten thousand other regular "Joes" who are marrying their ideal and regular "Janes."

As for me, on 7/7/7 (a Saturday, as LUCK would have it), I would be doing my usual:
  1. Convince myself to go to the gym
  2. Go pick up the laundry
  3. Celebrate my personal holiday called, "It's Pasta Day, Today!"
  4. Take a siesta
  5. Go home to Quezon City and spend the weekend with the folks who are mourning the gradual loss of their aging brood.
But, I'll plan for something special on 8/8/8. That oughtta be an auspicious day - because (1) it's gonna be a Friday, and (2) my Chinese ancestors bet a whole darned lot on triple 8's (which, when pronounced in Cantonese is "fa, fa, fa," a homonym to the words "luck, luck, luck" in the same language), and succeeded in whatever they've done that had been associated with this "most lucky of numbers." Surely, there'd be something good goin' for me on that day, too.

Thursday, June 7, 2007

Allergic to Love

To Tina Turner, my heartfelt thanks. When I first heard her sing “huwaaaaat’s love got tah do / got tah do with it,” my four-year-old brain immediately connected with the lyric, and it became a strong testament to my then sponge-like absorption of things new: “What’s Love Got To Do With It” was the very first song I sang in one of my countless recitals as a kid. I even kept the Tina outfit I wore (no wig back then – too gauche, my voice teacher thought), in memoriam of that particularly embarrassing three-and-a-half minute worth of fame, an experience among numerous others, which I would not care to repeat in future lives.

Now, twenty years later, I think that Tina said the most brilliant thing and sang the most heartfelt song ever. Ember Anne blogged about something similar on her own site (which, weirdly and eeringly, sounds like my own life story being told – by another person whom I’ve never met before) and it got me thinking about two things: (1) what, indeed, does love got tah do with anything, and (2) am I allergic to relationships?

I have girlfriends who have/had bad relationships. Their stories range from coping with temperamental/jealous/unfaithful boyfriends/husbands, to living with woman-beating s#%* heads, to giving their hearts to lying, cheating men who are in “wedded bliss” with other women. Because I love these lady friends who trust me enough to tell their stories to, their influence and their lessons have a profound effect on me.

Because of them, I think I’m afraid to take risks and let myself go.

Add to that the fact that I read blogs by women like Girlie Monkey and Mindy in Minneapolis – and I think, if svelte smooth sexy women like them (at least that’s how I perceive them to be) have trouble in the dating world, what more for me???

I try to forget about the horrible experiences(sssssss) I’ve had with the opposite sex back when I was a teen, but it’s not easy especially when I see a piece of monay (a big round-shaped piece of bread). I laugh now at the awful nicknames given to me by the boys back then, but…

Sometimes they’re still objects of my nightmares, you know?

And then, I read blogs like:
  • Chrissy’s Life on Manitoulin, where a poor character named “hubby” is awoken at two o’clock in the morning to save a rain-soaked cat (he was smart enough to just roll back to sleep, though);
  • Jimmy’s UncivilOne, where he captures images from websites his ex-wife likes and pastes them onto his own blog (awwwww, how shuweet);
  • Curiosity Killer’s custom-made site, where she talks about her extraordinary life in Hong Kong (I’ve never come across a “love”-related issue/angst yet in her blog, so please DON’T correct me if I’m wrong);
  • Ganns Deen’s personal site, where he posts songs of praise and love, and shares stories about his life-made-in-heaven with wife "C," son "N1," car Gigi, and soon-to-be daughter "N2"; and,
  • PJ’s Tech Shark blog, where words like “halubshu” and “mahal” dedicated to a woman named Conne abound.




So, in answer to my own concerns…
(1) What’s love got tah to do with it, Tina? ANS: Everything.
(2) Am I allergic to relationships? ANS: Yes. But I try and “cure” myself of this allergy through daily doses of bullet-points one to five, mentioned above. Thanks to them, hope remains.

Wednesday, June 6, 2007

A Nightmare Come True

On one of our sojourns to the Ice Vodka Bar in Greenbelt 3 on an early Friday evening, three of my friends and I reacquainted ourselves with Liza, one of the bar waitresses, and dunked our collective angst in booze and cigarette smoke. We were, once again, taking horrible advantage of the bar’s PhP395+ (roughly around US$8.78+) drink-all-you-can vodkatinis, which are headily combined with a salmon pizza that’s good for one’s supper. You oughtta tell by now that my MadDoggerz and I spend plenty of time and money on this awesome promo package that the bar offers its patrons during its lean hours, 1800H to 2100H.

However, it was on this fateful Friday that I heard one of the weirdest songs I’ve ever heard. Ne-Yo sang his hit tune “Irreplaceable,” which he had originally written for Beyoncé. When the song’s Intro beats started blaring from the bar’s humongous speakers, everyone on the dance floor started their usual bump and grind, but instead of the normal “To the left / to the left” lyric, Ne-Yo sang:

“To the right / to the right
Everything you own in a box to the right
In the closet / Yeah, that’s my stuff
So, if I bought it / Bitch, don’t touch…”

It was already 2200H when Ne-Yo assertively screamed these words through my fuzzy brains (I wouldn’t blame me for being a wee bit buzzed by this time – I’d started on the vodka drinks at 1800H, for cryin’ out loud). So, I then happily pointed out to my friends that Ne-Yo f***ed up his own lyric, resolutely sang my own completely indecipherable words in time with the song’s beat, and purposefully struggled off of my bar stool to dance drunkenly in front of two very sexy guys.

I was told that no more than two minutes passed when my companions (read: ex-friends) forcibly pushed me out of the bar door, hailed the first cab they saw, and dumped me with the poor, hapless taxi driver. I distinctly remember waving goodbye to the two aforementioned hotties, but I don’t think they waved back. I also think I ruined a pair of good fuck-me shoes that night, but I don’t remember where I’d put them now.

…

Come to think of it, I don’t even remember if all these things really happened to me on this supposed Friday night. Gawd, I hope not, coz I just blogged about it to the whole wide world.

Wednesday, May 30, 2007

Getting Along Swimmingly

W. Chan Kim and Renée Mauborgne wrote of “blue ocean strategies” that may be applied in the business world. True enough, they gave samples of organisations and leaders who are creating blue oceans of their own: Canada’s Cirque du Soleil, Australia’s Casella Wine [yellow tail] brand, and Korea’s Samsung, among others. Even the company that I’ve just recently signed up with, Direct With Hotels, is trying to create its own blue ocean in the worlds of the tourism and hospitality industries.

Personally, though, I think each person has the ability to create his/her own blue ocean. A blue ocean is (I’m paraphrasing as I go along, so please forgive me for any missteps in explaining what a blue ocean is ) that area where a person or an organisation creates a “unique” environment where other people/organisations would find it hard to compete against it. For instance, Cirque du Soleil did away with animal shows, three-ring stages, and expensive “big named” circus artists who ask a premium for their performances. Instead, it focused on providing pure entertainment, not for children, who are the traditional target market of big league circuses, but for adults. Similarly, I think an individual can create his/her own blue ocean through what Kim and Mauborgne called “value innovation.”

In my case, I think I can start building my own blue ocean if I start “rearranging” my daily attire. No more loose jeans and floral-printed shirts for this baby. No more head bands and scrunchies (not in public at least). Target market: rich youngish-looking bachelors with kind hearts. Hence, low-cut v-necked tops, dark coloured clothes (to hide the unavoidable bodily curves and bumps) flowing or sexy skirts, and subtle hair accessories are, I think, what Dr. Cosmopolitan has just ordered for me. Also, no more hiding the fact that I’m an alluring combination of both “smart lady” and “smarty-pants”. My competitors who are stuck in the “red ocean” market, in my humble opinion, consciously depict themselves as bimbos who can’t lift a finger when it comes to facing an adversary. Why they do so is beyond me. Likewise, no more wishing for Prince Charming. I just recently realised he does not exist. My friend Winky had advised me in one of our heart-to-heart conversations that in the game of love, a woman ought to have “low expectations and great fun.” Amen, sister, AMEN.

Furthermore, I think that in order to expand my own blue ocean, I would have to create new values to my person – values that other people, whose trust and respect I need to have, would also value. Wit, fun, humour, brains, and passion are “things” that I wish to possess – thus far, I don’t think I’ve failed in acquiring them. There are other values that I wish to imbibe, though: generosity (but not to the point of stupidity), wisdom (but not geeky), strength (but not super duper muscular that I’d look like ArnoldA Schwarzenegger), and true beauty (hello, Nip | Tuck?).

My blue ocean is still in the making and I don’t think it’ll be completely achieved until I reach the ripe ol’ age of 35 (!). As my blueness is still a work-in-progress, I’ll carry on doing what I do best, and blog ‘til I bleed out of my ears. Regardless of how long my blue ocean’s going to be developed, I think I still have the chops to get along with the rest of the world quite “swimmingly”.

Sunday, May 27, 2007

Inspirations

For these past two weeks, I’ve been writing our project’s final report which would eventually be submitted to our funding agency, the European Commission. (If you could, please check out the project/consortium website I had helped develop, www.comqual.com. :-)) My brain juices have essentially been bled dry during this excruciating procedure at work, and I just had to seek out inspiration to keep myself sane.

Time’s list of 100 Most Influential People in the world today was my constant desktop companion during my sojourn into this final project documentation. I must admit, there were names there that made me raise my eyebrows: Osama bin Laden (who’s categorised under “Leaders and Revolutionaries” – but I tend to think of him as the face of 9/11, as opposed to “leader”); Brad Pitt (who’s still recognised as “Artist & Entertainer,” but is generously praised for his film producing powers and his philanthropic ambitions); and, Elizabeth Edwards (labelled as a “Hero & Pioneer,” because she embattled and is continuing to embattle breast cancer. Of course, I am aware of cancer’s omnipotent destruction – my mother underwent breast cancer surgery in 1990, a young cousin died of leukaemia, and a college classmate had fought valiantly against yet still succumbed to bone cancer. But Edwards, a politician’s wife, is, in my humble opinion, neither a hero nor a pioneer because of cancer. Thousands of other people are battling other fatal diseases and illnesses, but they are not placed on pedestals by commercialised news or feature magazines. So, I have to ask: why?).

Time’s list got me thinking then, who’d be on my personal list of ten “most inspirational and influential” people? I count them (from the past to the present, and hopefully into the future) down here:

10. Drew Gilpin Faust: First, a confession - I’ve never heard of Faust prior to reading Soledad O’Brien’s write-up about her on Time.com. But I certainly have heard of Harvard – and of its paternalistic management history. Upon reading of Faust’s appointment as the premiere educational institution’s 28th president, I felt goosebumps rise on my upper arms and a thump in my chest, while I thought, “If Faust can do the near-impossible, so, perhaps, I can, too.”

9. Oprah Winfrey: Nelson Mandela gently reminded Time’s readers of the obstacles Winfrey went through before she got to where she is today, Chairman (yes, she calls herself Chairman, not Chairperson) of her own company, Harpo Productions. She was molested by her cousin’s older boyfriend when she was a mere slip of a girl; she was often passed over earlier in her career for other “more beautiful” female reporters; she was (and still is) often ridiculed for her weight issues; and, she is a daily target for tabloid fodder and public jealousy. Essentially, however, Winfrey shone through, creating choices and grabbing opportunities that went her way. Her perseverance, wit, and compassion are what keeps me glued to her show and to her website – she leaves me breathless while I anticipate to see what she has next up her sleeve.

8. My friend, Kai: a single mom, who’s managed to bring up the most wonderful boy who’s graced my world.

7. Nelson Sulpico: In July 2004, Sulpico, a Filipino taxi driver from New York returned every single piece of jewellery, collectively worth thousands of dollars, to his passenger, showing the whole wide world the true brand of someone who’s been privileged to call himself a “Filipino.”

6. Ziyi Zhang: My favourite foreign actor is a woman - a high-flying, ass-kicking, beautiful woman of pure Chinese descent, whose drive and ambition made her a great English-language communicator and caused men of various races to drool. Hers is the face that launched the faces of a billion other 21st century Chinese-descended women, me included. Her brain is nothing to scoff at either – which, equally, makes me look damn good.

5. Maya Angelou: Her words resound in my head whenever I feel like crap: “I am a woman / Phenomenally / Phenomenal woman / That’s me.” Now, tell me: how could I not admire her?

4. My first grade home-class adviser: Mrs. Baja and I fell in love with each other at first sight. She with my messy pig-tail tied hair, I with her kind eyes. She gifted me with my love for learning, and I gave her a leather hand bag that she constantly carried with her, all throughout my high school years. I’ll never forget her.

3. My aunt, Beth: She is what society would call an “old maid.” To me, she is what I hope to be someday - a rebel with a great cause, a generous heart, and a brilliant mind, who is also waaaaay cool.

2. My papa: His gruff exterior and oft-undecipherable interior still makes me quake in my shoes whenever I know I’ve done something stupid. It is his face that haunts my dreams and his words that strike at my conscience if I go ahead with my baser instinct and do something to hurt another human being. Because of this, his name I’ll forever carry.


1. My mother: ‘nuf said.

Tuesday, May 15, 2007

The Dances That I’ll Never Dance Again


I love to dance.

By myself.

And, in private.

My moves are never ever to be seen in public. They’ve been known to stop traffic and cause horrendous appalling accidents that could have been avoided in the first place. But I’m game with trying new things at least once in my life. So, when my gym trainer suggested that I try out the aerobic classes they were offering to all gym members, I thought, “Sure, why the heck not? How bad could it be?”

Well, I found out a few days ago exactly how bad it CAN be. It can be stupendously horrible, atrociously bad, and hideously awful. First off, the aerobics instructor was a man - one who is more girly-girl than I am. Jesus, he has an hour-glass figure and a flexible frame. He has shaved legs, too, to boot! Second, he was very very good, but had a soft soft voice. I stood at the back of the class and struggled to hear his instructions. To my mortification, I found myself with a pair of tangled legs, two lead arms, a dreadful rhythm, and THE sweatiest body to hit that dance floor EVER.

As I went through the class, I distinctly heard him instruct us to do the “mambo,” the “cha-cha-cha,” and the “boogie” several times during the exercise routine. My gawd, I have not had any training whatsoever in dance (except the ballet, when I was five years old), so I ended up massacring all three dance steps. My brain and my hips swayed in opposite directions; my two left feet brought me crashing into other students; and, my stiff hands stubbornly clutched at my waist.

I checked my watch – I’ve only been in the class for 20 minutes and I decided I’ve had enough. The instructor has ordered us to pair up... Pair up?! No friggin’ way. I’d much rather take my individual humiliation and drown myself in a Jacuzzi. Moral lesson learnt: I’ll stick to fantasizing about Patrick Swayze in Dirty Dancing, Mikhail Baryshnikov in White Nights, Channing Tatum in Step Up, and Marques Houston in You Got Served. No more dreaming about dancing like the stars.

But, I’ll still hippity-hop my way around my 30-sqm condo to the sound of Jojo’s Too Little Too Late any darned time I want to, thank you very much.

Thursday, May 3, 2007

I want...


  1. A sleek semi-new affordable sedan, preferably coloured forest green or canary yellow, so that I don’t have to commute in this gawd-forsaken heat.
  2. A condo unit all my own, one that I’m not forced to share with anyone else, also preferably one that I pay real-estate taxes for, all by myself.
  3. A heavy-duty Teflon-covered flat-bottomed all-around pan. I’ve always told myself that I’d buy one the next time I go to the mall, but somehow I always seem to get distracted by that cute girly skirt, that awesome James Dean-printed top, that über pro-looking blazer, that pair of softly-padded heels that are just to die for, and that yummilicious-looking plate of pasta.
  4. Another cute girly skirt.
  5. An awesome Bob Marley-printed shirt.
  6. An über pro-looking pair of slacks to match my new blazer.
  7. A pair of furry slippers to help my aching feet rest after a whole day of standing in the killer shoes.
  8. A gym membership that lasts forever + a day to counter that sinful plate of pasta I shouldn’t have eaten last night.
  9. An Apple I-book, with unlimited memory.
  10. An Apple I-pod, also with unlimited memory.
  11. Open source software to be known and advocated by every single living person on this planet! But, since that’s not possible, I’ll just concentrate on my own small set of friends, and make them convert to the belief that open source is the new tech god.
  12. Tourism here in the Philippines to be better managed, so that Thailand, Indonesia, Malaysia, and other ASEAN nations don’t continuously trample us in the international market.
  13. A business of my own.
  14. A food business of my own, separate from no. 13. The previous entry, however, would still be part of the service industry, since it’s what I’m most familiar with.
  15. To know how to fly a plane.

This is in response to some very persistent acquaintances’ own lists of “I want’s…” As you can see, I have some on the list that are pretty achievable (i.e., skirt, shirt, shoes), others that are mild hallucinations (i.e., car, condo unit, I-book), and some that are extremely wild (i.e., better-managed Philippine tourism). My point? You can’t have ‘em all, bebes.

Friday, April 13, 2007

The Legacy of the 1940's

Chrissy and Curiosity Killer both wrote about the Rape of Nanking in their respective blogs. People placed comments on their blogs about the history of their families who went through World War II. And, I thought, well, that is just eerie... my mom and I have been contemplating about documenting my grandfather's memoirs for the last couple of years. After reading two Western bloggers' points-of-view about that era, I thought I could start the memoirs here.

Grandfather Geoffrey (let's call him GG from now on, since his name kinda takes a long time to type) was born in China's Fookien province, but was sent here to the Philippines in the 1920's, together with his adoptive parents. GG's folks wanted him (the last of a brood of three) to escape the opium obsession that his older brothers had already succumbed to. He grew up in the city of Manila, but moved to Cagayan de Oro City in northern Mindanao, to avoid detection by the immigration office. By the 1940's, GG had gone back to China, gotten his college degree, and lived again in Cagayan de Oro as a well-respected teacher of English (of all academic subjects to teach, huh?). When war time came, GG found himself using his academic and multi-lingual knowledge to great use. He eventually became a translator for both Japanese and American forces, during friendly and/or hostile negotiation situations. GG knew how to speak a little bit of Japanese - he had gone there already once before - but his main competitive advantage was that he was the only one in the entire city of Cagayan de Oro who can write words that the Japanese could understand and comprehend. You see, even though the Japanese had their own written language, kanji, they could still read and understand the mainland's language, since it was the basis of their mother-tongue. GG was an asset to the fighters in his area, and his "nerdy" skills went to very, very good use.

His war time memories are now hazy. When I ask him about them today, he flicks his hand and pooh-poohs, "I don't remember much anymore, and at this point in my life, I want to remember good stuff. I won't forget the bad stuff, but it's better for me to think of better things today, rather than concentrate on the 'bad luck' I've gone through before." *Sigh* I can't blame him.

The stories of Nanjing are not so easy to read, much less to recall and remember. Similar stories abound here in the Philippines. There are, in fact, still small groups of Filipino women, now octogenarians and nonagenarians (people who are of my GG's age), so called "comfort women" under the Japanese occupation, who call for justice. Apologies have repeatedly been asked for, but so far, nothing acceptable has been given. Their lives have been hell. Is this the legacy of the 1940's?

Thursday, April 5, 2007

íHace Calor! On a Good Friday

Lordy, is it hot, or is it hot?! Today, Good Friday, is supposedly the hottest day of the year, at least in the Philippines, according to my mum. I checked the weather today and apparently, it will be an average of 25 degrees Celsius today, with a high of 32 degrees. Add to that some cloudy skies and plenty of overwhelming family members, and voila! I've got a heck of a day to go through.

It's actually not so hot today, if I were to base my observation on the temperature mentioned above. We go through days that are a lot hotter than these, all year round. I suppose one only notices and feels the weather more succinctly today because one is not usually holed up inside a comfortable air-conditioned office on this Holy Day. There's less to complain about, and even lesser to talk about, other than good ol' fashioned weather.

Rather than fully focus on my un-Christian-ly manners and mistakes, and on the ungodly heat that Good Friday is promising to have, I'd rather channel my energies on opportunities that everyday-living and the Great Man Upstairs have brought me today. To them, thank you.

Monday, March 19, 2007

The Quality of Life

Last week, I was sifting through some of the photos my friend took along Manila Bay and Intramuros, and this one particularly grabbed my attention.

He looks forlorn, lonely, and dejected. The irony, though, is that he's sitting by the Manila Bay at sunset - one of the most beautiful place and times in the metro. I have to wonder, then: what's the point to the average Filipino's life, if this is the reality surrounding us daily?

We have beauty, knowledge, courage, and truth all around us. They're side by side with horror, ignorance, cowardice, and lies. We all learn these as we grow, and we attempt to live only with the "pretty" ones and try to avoid the inconveniences that the ugly things or concepts bring us. My theory is that with horror, there would most probably be pain. With ignorance, bliss is not always available for one to hide behind. A coward reaps neither praises nor rewards, while liars are most probably the most hated creatures on earth. Dozens, hundreds, nay, millions of stories have been told and retold in every generation, regarding the consequences of "stepping into the badside." However, why is it that they're all still there - and we all still seem to revere them?

Election season for local government posts and congressional seats is heating up and will culminate this May. I've seen and heard many electoral pitches, been given even more "vote-for-me" flyers, and debated about the candidates' eligibility with friends and family. Is there a point to it all? My officemate was very pessimistic about the whole thing - advising a couple of foreigner colleagues of ours that there's going to be a "disturbance" this coming May, all thanks to the election season. The foreigners were immediately alarmed, thinking that "disturbance" means riots, coup d'etats, and political rallies. I begged to differ, and I will continue to hold a differing opinion because, damn it, I still have to have hope for the improvement of my people's quality of life, don't I? The man by the bayside surely deserves it.

Friday, February 23, 2007

All Smiles :-))


I love laughing. Have you ever felt that feeling of lightness in the heart whenever you let lose a guffaw, a snort, a smile, or a giggle? Mmmmm... that's the highest of highs.
Case in point - look at the six people on the left. They were captured looking down at a camera-phone, kneeling on a cushion, while huddled together and laughing seconds before the camera virtually screamed, "SMILE!!!" No make up, no fancy threads, no Photoshop gimickry. Isn't that great?!
To Kaye, Mitch, Maui, JM, and JP: where are we going next? Singapore? ;) Hint... hint...

Thursday, February 22, 2007

Dreams of Many Miles

A former college professor had the privilege of meeting Robert Frost many years ago. She asked him about one of the greatest mysteries in the literary world -- why write the line "And miles to go before I sleep" twice? To poem-lovers, that line already held much power and mystique; reading it twice, consecutively, implied pain and slow progress. His answer -- "Yes, I read that line slowly, too, but with surety. And slowly, but surely, I'll get to wherever I want to go, even if it takes me twice the number of miles."

I want to travel to Puerto Galera, Cagayan de Oro, Sagada Valley, Ilocos Norte, Bangkok, Kuala Lumpur, Beijing, Seoul, Athens, Ibiza, the Canary Islands, Paris, Venice, Rome, London, Dublin, Edinburgh, Zurich, Mexico, Acapulco, Buenos Aires, Sao Paolo, Johannesburg, Rabat, Nova Scotia, New York, Washington, D.C., and Augusta. That's approximately tens of thousands of miles, and I can't wait to take that journey someday. Ultimately, though, I'm coming back to Manila (as the song goes). It's where I'm from, and where I'd like to end my journey. Will you come with me?