last saturday while i was home, i opened a cabinet at the garage which revealed a familiar object resting on the top shelf. it was what i knew from my youth as my mother's "overnight bag", which now i know is more appropriately known as a make-up case. come to think of it, my mother did not spend overnight anywhere but home. why was it called an overnight bag? i do not even remember if i picked up the term from my mother herself, or maybe it was a figment of my imagination.

as a child i used to regard this "bag" in mysterious wonder... i recall believing that such bag contained secrets that were supposed to be hidden from us children, especially me, being the youngest one, an overly curious child, a natural snoop. seeing its familiar form last saturday, i could not help but get transported back in time when i would spend a few stolen hours in my parents' bedroom every once in a while, snooping into my mother's overnight bag.

the bag is olive green in color, now faded in dust. but the feel of the hard case and the snap of the latch while were familiar. i opened the bag and saw, as i expected, my own reflection in the mirror. as a child, i remember looking into my own eyes through that mirror which added to my then guilt of engaging in a prohibited act and anxiety of being found out. but for some reason, my mother never caught me.

the bag then contained photographs of various childhoods – my mother’s, my father’s, my siblings’ and mine. my mother never kept photographs in albums- they were stacked together bound by rubber, placed inside envelopes. i am not certain if it was only because my mother was never the martha stewart type. i guess it was because behind each photo is a story that was not for public consumption.

the bag then used to contain my mother’s jewelry… all still in their boxes. the pieces were given by my father, and under each box was a piece of masking tape with my father’s short note written on it. truly i respected my father for his deep love for her, shown in ways that were tangible as evidenced by each precious jewelry and the carefully written note that it came with.

i also remember looking into the bag and seeing the contents in the boxes disappear, one by one. partly due to reasons that my parents knew and silently and not-so- silently argued about, and partly due to the breaks-in we fell victims to when we were out of the house.

now, the overnight bag contained still a few boxes of jewelry, sans the contents, obviously. i also saw the red omega box, that reminded me of the watch that my father gave me after i graduated from college… i remember my parents calling me into their bedroom to tell me that it was mine. but really my father did not buy it for me, it was for my mother but they both gave it to me anyway. i lost that watch, but i’ll never forget what it meant when they gave it to me.

despite all that has been lost or no longer found in that bag, i found an unlikely gem. i saw it: the ladybug pendant/watch that my father gave me when i was very little--- probably about 5 years old.

i fished it from the bottom of the bag and examined it. the purple finish is almost gone. other than that, it looks exactly as I remember it. best of all, after a few turns, the second hand moved. the watch is still working. now am wearing it as a pendant.

am wearing a piece of my 5-year old self, a daddy’s girl.

outside there's a man drilling a hole and the noise bothers me. i shout you're so noisy but i don't hear myself and neither can he.

"Everybody is free to wear sunscreen"
by Baz Luhrman

Ladies and Gentlemen of the class of '97,

Wear sunscreen. If I could offer you only one tip for the future, sunscreen would be it. The long term benefits of sunscreen have been proved by scientists, whereas the rest of my advice has no basis or reliable then my own meandering experience. I will dispense this advice... now.

Enjoy the power and beauty of your youth. Oh, nevermind, you won't understand the power and beauty of your youth until they've faded, but trust me in 20 years, you'll look back at photos of yourself and recall in a way you can't grasp now how much possibility lay before you and how fabulous you really looked. You are not as fat as you imagined.

Don't worry about the future, or worry, but know that worrying is as effective as trying to solve an algebra equation by chewing bubblegum.

The real troubles in your life are apt to be things that never crossed your worried mind: the kind that blindsides you at 4pm on some idle Tuesday.

Do one thing every day that scares you.

Sing.

Don't be reckless with other people's hearts; don't put up with people who are reckless with yours.

Floss.

Don't waste your time on jealousy. Sometimes you're ahead, sometimes you're behind. The race is long, and in the end, it's only with yourself.

Remember compliments you receive; forget the insults. (If you succeed in doing this, tell me how).

Keep your old love letters; throw away your old bank statements.

Stretch.

Don't feel guilty if you don't know what you want to do with your life. The most interesting people I know didn't know at 22 what they wanted to do with their lives; some of the most interesting 40 year olds I know still don't.

Get plenty of calcium. Be kind to your knees -- you'll miss them when they're gone.

Maybe you'll marry, maybe you won't. Maybe you'll have children, maybe you won't. Maybe you'll divorce at 40; maybe you'll dance the funky chicken on your 75th wedding anniversary.

Whatever you do, don't congratulate yourself too much or berate yourself, either. Your choices are half chance, so are everybody else's.

Enjoy your body: use it every way you can. Don't be afraid of it or what other people think of it; it's the greatest instrument you'll ever own.

Dance... even if you have nowhere to do it but in your own living room.

Read the directions (even if you don't follow them).

Do not read beauty magazines; they will only make you feel ugly.

Get to know your parents; you never know when they'll be gone for good.

Be nice to your siblings: they're your best link to your past and the people most likely to stick with you in the future.

Understand that friends come and go, but what a precious few should hold on. Work hard to bridge the gaps and geography and lifestyle, because the older you get, the more you need the people you knew when you were young.

Live in New York City once, but leave before it makes you hard.

Live in Northern California once, but leave before it makes you soft.

Travel.

Accept certain inalienable truths: prices will rise, politicians will philander, you too will get old; and when you do, you'll fantasize that when you were young, prices were reasonable, politicians were noble, and children respected their elders.

Respect your elders.

Don't expect anyone else to support you. Maybe you have a trust fund, maybe you'll have a wealthy spouse, but you never know when either one might run out.

Don't mess too much with your hair or by the time you are 40, it will look 85.

Be careful whose advice you buy, but be patient with those who supply it. Advice is a form of nostalgia; dispensing it is a way of wishing the past from the disposal-- wiping it off, painting over the ugly parts, and recycling it for more than it's worth.

But trust me on the sunscreen.

danger is my middle name

yes you are doomed not because of you but because of me
remember that scene in that movie we used to make fun of it and at that time
it was i who was claiming to be doomed but because of you, not because of me
and i remember feeling a little envious then because
it was you who were going through something shaky, uncertain, exciting.
something possibly dangerously good

no such thing as a free lunch

had lunch with the bosses today, together with my co-underlings. it was a good one for discussing various topics as mundane as the weather, the food, the noise in the restaurant and.... my future in the office. we called it a "once in a lifetime" chance and the "decision of a lifetime".

me being myself (and you know how I am), i spoke about my true feelings. and there they were, nodding their heads, hopefully understanding where i was coming from. i didn't care that my co-associates were there, they already knew anyway what i was saying. what they found "shocking" was that i had the nerve to tell the bosses what i really thought. someone said i was matapang (read: foolhardy), the other said i may have given the bosses a little too much ammunition for my own benefit. maybe. maybe.

but in the end, i was just being true to myself. ganun pa rin, i didn't have trouble looking for words for true feelings that were coming from the heart. gosh, divina, you have not changed.

this song is playing when my boss comes into my room. he starts talking and then realizing that he knows this familiar tune, he stops. he pauses, smiles and tells me "wow, nice. memories."

i've always liked this song. it has an unforgettable melody, and an even more unforgettable guitar solo. i have it in a starbucks cd and never knew what the title was. never even knew what it was saying, except for the lines that are highlighted below:

"I am a lineman for the county and I drive the main road
Searching in the sun for another overload
I hear you singing in the wires I can hear you through the whine
And the Wichita lineman is still on the line.

I know I need a small vacation but it don't look like rain
And if it snows that stretch down soundphone never stand this rain
And I need you more than want you and I'll want you for all time
And the Wichita lineman is still on the line.

(I know I need a small vacation but it don't look like rain)
And I need you more than want you and I'll want you for all time
And the Wichita lineman is still on the line.

Is still on the line..."

Get your headphones on, google it up, and listen.

my hair syndrome

joyce, one of my best friends in law school, told me then that she knew that with me, no hairstyle is final, until after some days later. she was right then, and still right, now. i've had my hair cut twice this week. once, last sunday, then again, on monday.

i had hot oil last saturday using coconut oil (and girls - you know what coconut oil does to your hair). since i was running late on sunday morning to go to greenhills, i was not able to rinse it all out. i looked like a greasy duck so i hopped to the nearest salon and told the girl, cut it all out. she did, then, but not enough. by monday night, my hair has been reduced to about 1/3 of its original length. as in everything else in my life, i oscillate between loving and hating it.

oh well. it will always grow out.

i slept late last night. i was reading and found a really interesting poem which i sent to 2 people who might appreciate a good dose of poetry:

"from the complications of loving you
i think there is no end or return
no answer, no coming out of it."

- mary oliver

one texted back to say that it would be nice to have a complication such as love. i am not sure if love is a blessing or a curse.

all i know is that it is difficult to be complicated, when you are torn between coming and going. i've been torn many many times in my life --- in fact i think i still am. i am stuck. i've been stuck for too long i am tired of my own company.

i used to think am tough, but now i don't. i've read somewhere that as one gets older they become lose their spontaneity, become more cautious.

it is difficult to make a choice, i think some are luckier that they just cope with what life deals them. sometimes i'm convinced that i will never make a choice because i don't want to be responsible for any bad decision that i will most likely make. maybe one day the choices will be gone and then i will be left with just me. (replay: "i am tired of my own company").

the waiting game

i'm not acting like a victim here. i'm acting like a grown up patiently waiting to see what is going to be the best for me.

i've made rash decisions in my life before and many times i regretted them. sometimes i'd get lucky to be given a second chance. right now i know that i can't be my usual impatient self. i have to wait. some. more.

a friday gig

last friday I spent 4 solid hours singing in red box. there were just 3 of us, and the 2 are my friends from my old singing group in college, R and E. R is a tenor, while E, bass.

R and E were more senior than me in that group: so you could say that i didn't hang much with them back then. i hung out with my batch, although i've always respected R for his clean vocal power and E for his deep baritone.

i came from work and had little time to change from office clothes to jeans and slippers. it was very good thinking on my part to change into shirt and jeans. R came in same attire while E, who was verrry verrry late, came in his office clothes. we were teasing E that R and i were tourists and that he was our tour guide.

anyway- since it was a friday, redbox was full, as expected. we enlisted for the 12mn to 4am shift (at P299 a head, with 2 free drinks, it was a steal), and killed time at segafredo.

despite my secret resolve to act properly in segafredo where the rich and the intolerant were dining/having coffee, i could not help but laugh in their company. E was very funny and acted like he was a stand up comic and i wish I could write about his anecdotes but I can’t because i don’t have the words for it.

we had 3 microphones at redbox. we may have been the only group that night that did not order real food or drink our beers. we were too busy being in singing mode, that no food nor alcohol could possibly distract us.

on our way home, E told me that I passed the auditions with flying colors. I’m now officially a member of their singing ensemble and soon enough ill be singing at weddings again. if i have the time. aliw.

i keep posting "malapit na" as my ym status. and i've been asked a lot of times what it means really.

it means im almost done. it means that soon the game will be over and ill consider this as one of those "oh yeah that happened to me for quite a while" kind of thing when i look back 10 years from today.

it means im quitting and that, yes, im a quitter.

realizations at 6:54 tonight.
1. i'm becoming masungit at work.
2. i curse a lot more now.
3. i say bwisit a lot.
4. i've learned to separate personal from professional. finally, after 8 years.
5. i still feel guilty after showing my kasungitan. even to those who deserve it.
6. i'm losing my creativity.
7. i was never creative in the first place. (ha!)
8. am drowning in paperwork.
9. malapit na.
10. idol ko si dion.

Ice on her recognition day.
ballerinas waiting for their turn to take center stage.

after lunch walk

while walking along the street I tell my friend this woman who shares a cigarette with her beau looks just like you and my friend discreetly takes another look and my friend tells me okay and she wonders and wonders some more--- and then it hits her she is not you and she shrinks in shame realizing that why should she care when she shouldn’t