Riding on the Metro

I've been taking the train for over a year now, and lately when I get down to the station, I hear this song in my head:

I remember searching for the perfect words
I was hoping you might change your mind
I remember a soldier sleeping next to me
Riding on the Metro

It's from The Metro by Berlin. This song is SOO eighties.

Anyway, the Inquirer reported a couple of weeks back that MRT ridership is at an all-time high. Not surprising, considering the rising cost of fuel. I still remember when gas cost P19 per liter; this week it just breached the P40 mark. Looks like it wants to catch up with the Peso-Dollar rate.

I always dress down when I have to take the train, which is practically every day. Exceptions will be when I have a client presentation or a date. In most of those instances I just bring the car since I plan to wear heels. But I just couldn't bring myself to "dress up" when I take the train. Tanks and sleeveless shirts are a no-no for me there.

After more than 10 years of driving myself around, I'm glad to say that I adjusted to commuting pretty well. At first I missed having my privacy every morning. But in time I learned to "shut off" the other commuters and became capable of accessing my deepest thoughts while navigating my way to work. Taking the train became automatic, in much the same way that I can drive on "auto-pilot."

While I did miss the freedom to go anywhere with my own set of wheels, I just reminded myself that I had to take the train day in and day out while I was in art school in New York.

Now that's a happy memory. It was the first time that I was away from my family for an extended period of time, and I really loved what I was doing then. I loved New York, and I loved the independence of going out into the city on your own. Imagine, you can just go anywhere and nobody would know where you are.

Well, glad to say that I was I good girl back then. I didn't go off into the bad side of town and didn't take too many excursions except to museums, art galleries, and the occasional Japanese restaurant. I was mindful of the fact that every art class cost XX dollars, so I wanted to make the most of the investment. Plus I really wanted to learn.

There were so many characters I encountered at the NY subway:

• the street musician singing Elton John's "I Guess That's Why They Call It The Blues" to a guitar accompaniment:
  

  Laughing like children, living like lovers
  Rolling like thunder under the covers
  And I guess that's why they call it the blues;

• the occasional black guy who solicited money on board, or should I say, intimidated riders into giving it;

• the Asian lady who made up her face professionally while seated on the train;

• and not to mention the man showed me his hairy tummy on the outdoor train platform - he said that he was a stripper and that they called him the "Wolfman." He got embarrassed when he realized that I wasn't interested in seeing his carpet.

Anyway, riding the MRT really gives me a slice of life. And yes, I am well aware that I am part of that pie. A couple of months back I remember seeing a young man in folded-back longsleeves and slicked-back hair during the morning trip. "Oh," I thought to myself, "a metrosexual on the metro." He stood out at the time, but then more and more upscale-looking people have been getting on the train that it isn't so unusual anymore. I imagine that I must have stuck out like a sore thumb in the beginning too.

Anyway, the metro is one thing that I'm glad for in this city.

24/100

Ever heard of Bo

...Sanchez? His writings have been circulating in the emails for years, and some time ago I came across another priceless one.

It was about being "emotionally present" to your family. You really ought to read the whole article. But I liked the part where he said that you should praise your kids seven times a day. Glad to say that it's something that I do, from simple things like "you're so cute," "I like the way you're sitting" (with feet of the chair), or "I like it that you say please and thank you." And I do tell him that I love him several times a day.

Come to think of it, it's easy to be sweet with kids. With them, we dispense the hugs freely and unabashedly. It's with the adults that we seem to have a problem.

I think that most of us grew up with parents who were not very expressive. I may be wrong, but that's what I reckon from the conversations I've had with colleagues and friends.

Like my Chinese producer whose mother always said at mealtimes, "Eat that...it costs P400 per kilo!" She grew up resenting her mom's habit of putting a price on the food that they were served. Until she read Amy Tan's Joy Luck Club and realized that this was her mom's way of saying that she was giving them the very best.

Between my mom and pop, mom is the more reserved. Dad was not the kind to express his feelings with words, but he certainly was affectionate - at least with the girls. It's something that my sis and I have inherited in great amounts. But you can imagine my frustration with mom, who was so careful not to pass judgment on anyone that she even forgot to praise her kids.

No, I don't take it against her; I love my mom totally. Even if she didn't want our heads to grow big with praise, at least she never said anything bad to us. No name-calling, no accusations...ever. Even when I was really out of line.

It's just that after reading Bo's article about praising your kids seven times a day, I figured I ought to do the same with my mom. Heck, you ought to do it with everyone. It's just that it's a bit awkward when you're breaking in an adult onto new habits. But I don't mind. Like I said, I love her to pieces.

23/100

Fecund

I ought to go through that Artist's Way book once again. Sometimes, when I sit down to write a post, I don't know what to say. Weird thing is, it's not for a lack of subject matter. I have hundreds of things in my mind; it's just that not all of them are rated GP.

When I started this blog I did it as a creative outlet since what I write for work is pretty much limited. It was cathartic at first, and I eagerly pounded away whatever so-called deep thoughts or musings I had at the time. I obviously enjoy wearing my heart on my sleeve as far as this parenting thing is concerned.

I still feel good about writing about these singular adventures of mine, but really there is so much that goes on that I'd like to tell but can't or won't - for reasons of privacy, security, or just to stick to my theme.

I remember, when I was painting, how I always said that it takes guts to put yourself - your true self - on the canvas. A lot of us are afraid to be rejected. Same goes for blogging.

So.

Thank God I have a theme. Ha ha!

But going back to the Julia Cameron book, I remember that there were a lot of ideas there that helped get you started on whatever you had to do. It's like I have a to-do list that's unfinished until now. That's kind of how I feel at the moment.

22/100

Beartolucci

(For Sunday, May 21, 2006)

It's late and I'm short by one post. So here's another quickie: Miguel reunited with his teddy bear. It's the most adorable thing, and I upon my suggestion my mom got it for him 4 Christmases ago. So why "reunited?" Well when he was a toddler he kept on getting colds and rashes, so my then pediatrician had me allergy-proof my son's environment.

That meant restricting certain foods, keeping a food diary, removing the bedside curtains, and banishing Beartrolucci and all other stuffed toys. He also took prophylactic antihistamines until age 4.

Thankfully he outgrew the rashes and has adjusted to previously allergenic foods like chicken, egg, and chocolate. Then a few months back he requested for Beartolucci, so here they are, together again.

It was kinda cute last week when Miguel wanted to play cards with me just as I was about to take a shower. I told him to find somebody else to play with first. So he propped Beartolucci on some pillows on his bed, dealt out the cards, and they played a game. I wanted to take a picture but I was busy in the john :)

Well, you should've seen it.

20/100

Tied the knot

(For Saturday, May 20, 2006)

My friend Jayel got hitched last Saturday. Every little detail was planned - the choral music, first marital kiss, photo-ops during the cocktails, video presentations, and table names instead of numbers. He's always been very passionate when it came to his work, and more so when it came to Michal, the love of his life.

Right now they're in honeymoon bliss somewhere in Rome. What can I say, the guy doesn't compromise on his dreams. I really should write more about the wedding some time, but for now let me just say that it was beautiful. I'll just leave you with this snapshot of the flower arrangement at the reception.

19/100

Energy Liger is in the room

I've been moving furniture into Miguel's room over the weekend, and it's starting to take shape. Every now and then I asked Miguel to look at the room and tell me what he thinks. Yesterday he said, "Mommy, the more you move things, the less fun it becomes" - referring to my room. I told him, "Miguel, we're transferring the fun from my room to yours."

So late last night I moved more of his toys to the new room, ever-conscious that I was moving out the "fun." Surveying my more spacious room, I have to half-admit that he was right. The robots and action figures are gone, transplanted to a new shelf in his room. That includes Energy Liger, his most prized Zoid, the one that I positively forbid him to break (although it has sustained a few minor damages.)

So now, instead of toys, some of my favorite framed pictures are now displayed on my buffet table. (I don't know what else to call it; it's the same kind of cabinets-and-drawers set that you'd find in a dining room. I had it custom made just so I can display photos on top of it.)

I do feel a bit sad about that. Didn't I write before that he's such a part of me that sometimes I don't know where he begins and where I end?

But move on we must. I'm just as excited to see him grow up and create his own identity and do things on his own. Like this morning when I told him that I found the perfect place to put his clothes hamper - beside the bathroom door. "No," he said, "I want it here between the 2 cabinets."

He ran back into my room, and came back with his personal clothes hamper, dumping it in the place he assigned for it on the other side of the room. Well, who am I to argue - it is his room after all.

21/100

Darndest things

Check out the sidebar for the Miguelisms :)

3 women

Yesterday while I was crossing the street I saw a woman carrying a baby. She was beautiful. Mature, but beautiful.

Not alta-sociedad or even sosyal beautiful. She didn't even dress rich, so the safest I could say was that she was probably better off than most. She had shoulder-length hair in loose curls and highlights. Her face was beautiful, but aged by wrinkles around the eyes and sagging jowls. She even wore a bit of make-up. But what struck me most was that she was carrying a baby - a girl, probably a year old.

She walked with a purpose and carried the child in a protective way, as if to say, "this is mine and you can't take it away from me." It made me think that she was the mother of the child.

But as she walked towards me and I got to appreciate her age, I noticed the younger woman beside her and to her rear: twenty-ish, fair-skinned, and simply but neatly dressed in jeans and a T-shirt. She was looking down, watching her step as she followed the older woman.

So I thought, maybe I'm looking at three generations of women here: dominant grandma, docile daughter-in-law, and doted-upon grandchild.

In a moment they were past me. Funny how so short a glimpse can give you ideas about other people's lives.

But honestly, there was something in the way that she carried the child.

I love watching people with their kids. You should try it sometime. People can be oblivious of the general public when they're with young children. Much like lovers behave when they're in Paris. Lots of private moments there.

As I like to say, I love the way we love our kids.

18/100

Making space

Well, Miguel's room has been painted and cleaned. Yesterday I left instructions for our household staff to install the curtain rods and move in some of his shelves.

When I entered my room last night, I was amazed - and relieved - to see that it was roomier than before. It's like...Waaaaaah! I can see the wall! I can see the window! It's only now that I realized that my room is so full of furniture (mine and his) that there is absolutely no wall space left.

When your room is so cluttered, your mind gets the same way too. Actually I'll be glad to have my room look like it belongs to an adult again. I'm eager to bring out all those great photos, although I wouldn't mind having a Zoid here and there. I'm making a conscious effort to create some "breathing space" in both our rooms. Looks like I'm in for more housecleaning over the weekend.

17/100

New pages

Pardon me for the non-posts for the past 2 days, but I've been tinkering with some code. HTML is a lot like Wordstar, if you're old enough to remember what that is. You just type a code before and after a command.

Anyway, I've made some additions to my sidebar and selected my favorite posts. Feel free to tell me which ones you liked. And being obssessive-compulsive, I've listed my archives by title. Maybe sometime I can post my old artworks (and hopefully some new ones) on the net. Happy browsing!

Yahoo!

Obviously I have a lot of time on my hands. So take a look at my new Favorites page, courtesy of Yahoo! Geocities. Just be warned that it's a work in progress; as of now it only has 2 selections.

Did it by copying my Blogger template then doing trial and error. Always wanted to understand this HTML stuff.

16/100

Mirror

I've had this picture for a while. It's from graduation day at Gueli's swimming class. When I first saw it I was amazed at how much he looks like me.

What does it do to a parent to have her child look like her? Does it make her love the child more? Love herself more?

Funny thing is that the moment he was born, I thought he looked like his dad. Maybe all these years with just me has made him more like me.

But as early as now, I already tell him, "You are not your mommy. And you are not your daddy. You are Miguel."

Sometimes we make the mistake of thinking we're just like our parents. Well maybe that's not so bad since there are things about them that I admire. But there's some good in knowing that you're different and accepting yourself as so.

Or maybe I'm getting ahead of this identity crisis thing.

15/100

Specs

You could say that Miguel's having a love-hate relationship with his glasses.

Before going to church he wanted to take them off because "no one might recognize me." Then on the road he was amazed that he could see more signs while wearing them. He likes to take them off while eating. But he needs to wear them while watching TV. And then again sometimes he doesn't want to.

I have to remind him to wear them constantly so that he could see better and hopefully have his vision corrected. Like I said before, his grade is higher than mine - but only slightly. Weird thing about my eyes is that one is nearsighted and the other farsighted.

At least, even without my contacts, my right eye can make up for the blurred vision on my left eye. But all I had to do was cover one eye to see how blurred the world appears to Miguel without his glasses.

But what I like most was what he said, unprompted, while we were driving home from church: "Thank you mommy for getting me glasses. Everything looks bigger now."

Honey, I just wish that I had done this sooner.

14/100

Happy Mother's Day!

(For Sunday, May 14, 2006)

I know that it's late but hey it was a hectic day. Not a lot of Filipino families observe this day, but I guess that my family is different.

It was a happy celebration, with complete attendance by the clan. Food lined up was:

5 kinds of chips
2 kinds of dips
baked chicken with cheese and parsley
pork barbecue
noodles from Sun Moon Garden
4 kinds of cake
2 kinds of ice cream
ginataang mais (sweet corn cooked with sticky rice)

I guess that my family's BIG on dessert. Good thing that somebody brought me oranges; that means I still stick to my "diet" :)

13/100

Short but not so sweet

I have this little lump on my left wrist. It's the size of a...hmmm...kernel of corn. It's under the skin and fleshy (like a kernel actually). I think I noticed it first about a week ago while helping Miguel wash his hands.

I remember telling myself then that my wrist bone was protruding unusually. It looked strange but I brushed it off because I was always busy. Now I realize that it looked strange because it seems like I have an extra wrist bone!

Well tonight it looks like it got bigger, so i paid attention to it and realized that it's not a bone but a fleshy lump. I'll show it to my bro tomorrow. No need to panic; just need to pray.

12/100

I hereby resolve

When you're in an Agency and it's time to produce a commercial, you know that you're gonna be well-fed. That's because prouction houses want to make sure that your tummy is kept in a constant state of contentment - or even ecstasy - so that you're not irritable during a shoot and will hopefully approve all the director's takes.

Anyway.

We've been working with a production house whose executive producer is legendary for serving the best desserts in Manila. You never know what he'll offer next: Strawberry Shortcake, Mango Torte, Marshmallow Cake, Turtle Pie. Of course me and my colleagues protest that he's giving us too much, but we always head to the buffet table to pick up a slice - or two. I feel like a calf being fattened for the slaughter.

Well, just yesterday I had way too much to eat at merienda time (afternoon snack). It was so heavy I decided to skip dinner. I went out with Mike in the evening and was amazed that at 10 pm I was still full.

So today we continued the shoot, and at lunch time Gigi comes in. She's our caster who was recently confined in the ICU because she had suffered a mild heart attack. She's probably only in her late thirties. Needless to say, she has a lot of restrictions when it comes to food.

I had already eaten my leche flan (a sugar-laden egg custard) by the time she came in, but then we predictable started talking about her doctor-imposed diet. It turns out that she has diabetes too, and since I saw firsthand how it ruined my dad's health, I gave her an account of the progression of the disease.

I know it was so hard for her to hold back and stick to her diet in the presence of such delicious fare. She started her lunch and the leche flan was right in front of her, waiting to be devoured.

Then I remembered how disgustingly full I felt last night. And how I need to cut down on sugar so I can avoid diabetes.

Then I just said it. "Gigi, why don't you stop eating sweets. I'll even join you. I'll stop eating cake, ice cream, and chocolates." Of course I made Gigi an excuse, but I know that I can do it. Not just for myself but to set an example for Miguel. Diabetes runs in only one side of my family, both sides on his.

Wish me luck :)

11/100

Two hams on a tube

Although I have hundreds of photos of Miguel, I don't have too many with him. That's because I'm always the one behind the camera, right?

Anyway I asked yaya to snap this picture last week while Miguel and I were swimming. I was lounging in the inflatable while we were shooting at each each other with water pistols, then he got the bright idea of joining in. Well, I'm glad he thought of it...because I don't think I'd allow him to do that at age 8 :)

10/100

Can somebody please tell me what's going on?

Here's another "strange" photo for our archives. Sort of in the spirit of Hit the monkey.

By the way, this picture was taken around early April, before we started cleaning up his room.

9/100

Stonehenge addendum

Oh yeah, I forgot to mention Miguel's theory on how the monument was built:

"Stonehenge is a giant's building blocks that he forgot to pack away."

We must alert the archeologists and anthropologists at once :D

Hocus focus

So here's the lowdown on Miguel's eye check-up.

After spending close to 4 hours at the American Eye Center, the verdict is this: my little boy has astigmatism, with a grade of -2.50 for both eyes. I was shocked to find out the numbers - turns out his grade is higher than mine. Without my contacts I'd consider myself severely visually impaired; what more him!

The good news is that it might be corrected, since his eyes are still being developed. I just hope that it turns out that way.

The reason the session took so long was because we were checked up by 2 optometrists and 1 opthalmologist. They made us sit on several machines, plus we got a manual refraction. I told Miguel that he still looked cute even with the funny-looking glasses. He was extremely well-behaved in the opthalmologist's examination room, very polite and proper. A proud moment for the mommy.

In between sessions with the optometrist and opthalmologist we looked at a few optical shops to pick out some frames for him. I used to be afraid that he might not want to wear glasses, but I think that wearing those funny glasses made him realize that he really needs his own pair. He quickly grew attached to a blue pair (again, I told him that he cannot have a red one) and I'll be picking it up after 3 days.

So hopefully, now he won't have to go near the TV, or hold a book so close to his face, or lean directly over his workbook when he does an assignment. For him, the world will suddenly be bigger and brighter. Or should I say clearer.

I should know.

8/100

Tom Yum

Today I finally opened one of my "goodies" from Bangkok - a cup of ready-to-eat Tom Yum Goong. When I arrived there, one of the first things I did was head for the grocery. I wanted to buy food that I can find only in Thailand, like Frito Lay potato chips in exotic flavors such as Nori Seaweed and Grilled Lobster. Another item was a pack of Tom Yum Goong since I like that dish so much.

Well, sad to say that the cup of instant soup was a disappointment. It was Tom Yum, but as with anything ready-to-eat, the quality suffers considerably. It was nothing compared to the one I had in Siam Paragon.

It was past lunch time on our second day and I was exploring some malls on my own. Being so late, I really wanted to get a bite, and the Siam Paragon food court got good reviews since the mall was only 5 months old.

Turns out the place is a bit high-end, but since I was so hungry (deja vu?) I didn't care about the price. The outlet I went to is like the former Streetlife in Glorietta. Enter, get a card, have it swiped as you order food, and pay as you leave.

Seeing a mouth-watering picture of Tom Yum, I ordered it right away. Only when the dish was served at my table did I realize: Oh, shucks, I'm not in Manila! I saw all the crushed chilis swimming on the surface and realized that I should have asked them to hold back on the spice.

Anyway, since I was in a nice place and they were charging me 3 times what I'd normally pay for a meal, I decided to eat Tom Yum just the way the Thais do: in all it's hot, spicy, mouth-burning, inflaming glory.

I could swear that my mouth was on fire. And now I also know why animators show how spicy a food is by making smoke come out of your ears: while I was eating it I could feel my ear wax melting!

I must say though that it was delicious. At least now I can say that I've had authentic Thai Tom Yum Goong.

7/100

Neuro

Yes, I think I'm getting neurotic. Less than a month to go before Migueli enters big school. I've already arranged for a school bus service. I've bought the uniforms and am having the pants altered. I've wrapped the textbooks in plastic cover.

I even scheduled a visit to the opthalmologist 'cause I suspect he might need glasses. I just need to label a few things, buy undershirts, socks, P.E. shoes, and a school bag.

Good grief! I even read through the student handbook (certified nerd here) and found out that a "jug" is not necessarily a container for liquid.

I tell you I'm really getting neurotic right now.

And I still have to finalize the plans for his birthday next month.

6/100

Stonehenge

Last night Miguel and I had a conversation about Stonehenge, again. He wants to go there. He wants to go to Stonehenge at 1 am during the summer solstice so he can wait for the sun to go up and see it "go on top of his head."

Turns out my mom's been reading those coffee-table books to him at bedtime while I was out of town. God bless her, she's such high-brow grandma :)

Now as a goal, that isn't such a bad thing. I haven't been to Stonehenge myself, but now that he mentions it, I'd like to go too. I told him that we'd have to find a way to go.

Weird thing is, I just had lunch with my colleague Jayel last Thursday. Though he sits only 10 feet away from me, we haven't had lunch together for several months. I asked him where he and Michal were going for their honeymoon after the May 20 wedding. He said that they're going to Rome, London, then Paris. I asked him what he planned to see in London, and he mentioned that he wanted to see Stonehenge - an hour's ride away, he says.

This synchronicity thing is just too uncanny. I really think we've got to find a way to get there.

5/100

Favorite foods

I think that I know my son so well. We had this conversation yesterday at the breakfast table, about what his perfect meal is:

Me: I know what your perfect meal is.
Miguel: What?
Me, grinning: Tilapia with rice, churros con chocolate, and strawberry shake.
Miguel: Wrong! My perfect meal is spider, and cockroach, and dirt, and french fries, and grapes with ketchup!

Yuck! Now who would eat grapes with ketchup?

Right now my favorite food is tom yum goong (a longtime favorite), iced lemonade and mangoes for dessert. Mmmmm!

Oh and for the record, Miguel corrected me and said that his favorite meal is chicken and rice, french fries with ketchup, iced tea, and strawberry shake. And which toy would you like with that?

4/100

Makeover

Gueli's room is now taking form! It's not going to be an expensive project, but my mom already had the paint job started.

It was such a pleasant surprise to come home from Bangkok and see the walls in transition. The ceiling's almost done, and this morning mom and I finalized the color for the walls. Miguel's favorite color is red, but I told him that red walls are out of the question. He didn't seem to mind.

We'll have the bathroom ceiling and walls repainted too to match his room. Good thing because it's overdue for a facelift.

The anticipation is still there but at this point I'm just glad that it's getting done. Since I don't have much to spend I'll just be doing little changes as the weeks go along. Maybe it'll be like my uncle's house that took 10 years to complete :) I guess that we'll just improve as we go along.

3/100

Morning pages

There's this book called "The Artist's Way," by Julia Cameron. I came across it in 2001 when I took a workshop under Jim Paredes about "releasing the artist within" or "unblocking your writer's block." Something like that. It was one of those groundbreaking workshops, the kind that you never forget. He pours himself into the sessions, and the if you give as well, the more you get back. Lots of memorable stuff happens there, if you allow it. I'd recommend it to anyone even if they're not artists.

Anyway, Jim's modules were based on the Cameron book, and the exercises were very good, challenging you to try something new. The most basic exercise is the morning pages. With apologies to Julia Cameron, it goes something like this: every morning, the moment you wake up and when your mind is still foggy, you grab a pen and a notebook and write. Doesn't matter if garbage comes out; all that matters is that you're producing creative output. The theory, I think, is that quantity is better than quality.

There might be an argument for that, because at least if you push yourself to write everyday, you're bound to come up with a gem sooner or later. And then, you know what they say: practice makes perfect. Same thing holds true for painting. Well, like I say, you really aren't a painter unless you're painting. So I guess you really aren't a writer unless....

Anyway, Pinoy Big Cousin's one-hundred day challenge is something that I could simply consider as morning pages. I think that the longest period that I wrote my morning pages was for 3 months. But I know a director who's been doing it for about 2 years. He even showed me his notebook; he brings it around all the time.

Funny, we're working on a project right now and just yesterday he asked me what my blog address is.

Another thing about doing Jim's workshop back then: when you're in touch with your inner artist, the universe seems to align and a lot of synchronicity happens. Maybe that's why I'm writing now. Maybe that's why he asked. :)

2/100

Shopping and suds

Just got back from the company outing last Sunday. It was a fun, tiring 4-day, 3-night shopping spree. Now this is my kind of clothing allowance: pack up all the employees to Bangkok and give them money to burn. On our first evening, right after our dinner-cruise, people were already itching to hit the Suan Lum night market. Others went to Patphong for the "educational show." I, however, and a few others opted to go back to the hotel. My roommate was out shopping so I had the room to myself for a few hours.

Nice bubble bath waited for me there. Tie up the hair, run the faucet with almost scalding water, pour in the bubble juice, then lie down and soak. Could've used some candles and mood music, but I make do with what I have - selective lighting and the television tuned to the movie channel. That's what I call the art of doing nothing.

When I laid back in the tub and stretched my hands over my head, I heard the strange but familiar sound of bubbles popping around my ears. That's when it hit me: it's been years since I've heard that sound. Then I recalled that the last time I had a proper bubble bath was seven years ago, in Bangkok too.


My memories of that first trip aren't so good. I was travelling with a group of artists called the "Saturday Group" and on our last evening my colleagues had a falling out. What started out as cordial drinking in one of the hotel rooms turned into a public display of dirty laundry. Sigh.

Also, the last time I was in Bangkok I had just discovered I was pregnant, and nobody but my (then) boyfriend knew at the time. It was difficult walking the unfamiliar streets looking for a good place to eat (I was so hungry!) when all the signs and menus were written in Sanskrit.

Well, glad to say that this time out I had a fabulous time. For starters, our hotel (Arnoma on Rajdamri Road) was located right in the heart of the city. Right beside it were a money changer, a mall with a big grocery (Big C) that closed at 11pm, and a really cheap but delicious food court. And all around were middle- and high-end malls.

It was also my first visit to Chatuchak weekend market. As my friend said, "hindi susuko ang Chatuchak - ikaw ang susuko!" (In English, you're going to surrender - due to the sheer size of it.) I was told that it was over one hectare in size, and honey I believe it!

Prices are absurdly cheap when you compare them to Manila's, but then you have to be good at haggling while overcoming the language barrier. By 2pm I decided that I was done with shopping. But since I agreed to meet up with my friend at 3, I ended up spending all my cash by 2:30. I just had enough for the taxi ride back to the hotel in case she didn't show up (to split the cost).

Good thing I left the rest of my moolah in the hotel ;)

So now my attitude towards Manila's tiangges (bazaars) have changed. Just yesterday I was in Greenhills with Miguel trying to pick out a red backpack. When the salesgirl told me the price of the bag that he wanted, I had to qualms about insisting on a really low price. In the end we settled at less than 2/3 the cost.

So you see, travelling really is a learning experience.

1/100

Starstruck

I couldn't help it. I'm not a fan, but when the opportunity presented itself, I just had to get a solo photo with him.
Reminds me of that Sprite campaign magpatotoo ka! (get real) Yep, that was me :)

It was his idea

Thank God my son loves taking baths. Although he sometimes protests when I announce that it's time for him to hit the shower, 99% of the time he takes his sweet time because he's too busy playing.

One of his favorite "games" is making funny hairstyles, and yesterday he coudn't wait to show me how high his hair can go. Hmm, looks like he's overdue for a haircut.

Now tell me, didn't you use to do that when you were a kid?

I really hope that he doesn't mind that I posted this, when he's all grown up.

And by the way, I really feel so much pressure to post regularly, now that I know that mama aly is checking out my blog every day. Sort of like a Pinoy Big Cousin :)

Oh yeah. Notice the sliver of soap meticulously attached to the bigger bar of soap ;D

Doodlisquat

Another quickie post.

After 18 years, Doodle is back in Manila! With hubby and 2 kids in tow no less. After the hellos, the realizations set in:


Doodle, to me: When did Gai get so wild?
Gai, to me: When did Doodle get so mature?

Well, wild or mature, they're my 2 best-est friends. I had no qualms about spending last Sunday with Doodle's entire family. Actually, I've considered myself a part of her family ever since I visited them in Orlando in '91. The picture shows her with her 3-year-old Colin and Miguel during a quick lunch out.

Tinkle winkle

So here's Miguel after his piano recital last week with Teacher Ems. Notice the nice trophy and the big smile.

All the recitalists received simple, card-sized, glass-etched trophies. Except for my son and 3 others whose glass trophies broke. ERGO, teacher had to replace theirs with bigger ones. Compared to the other trophies, it looks as if my son won the Metropop.


He was so excited about it, he said, "I want to keep playing piano until I have 10 trophies!"

We're definitely signing up for this summer.

Hair-raising

As requested by mama_aly, here is a new, albeit quickie post. Miguel's hair has a way of standing up every morning. Our private joke is that his hair stands up long before he does. I hope that years from now he won't mind that I posted this.

Yes, yes...I feel bad too about not posting since February; I haven't missed a month since I started this blog almost 2 years ago. And I have so many anecdotes saved up, big and small. I guess the trick is to post right away so you don't forget or get lazy. More to come, even if they're antedated.

By the way, I'm now using a MacMini so some blogger features - such as font color - are not available. Nevertheless, I love my Mac! :)

May 3, 2006: Font color solved

And the winner is...

Didn't I say that Miguel needed a new playmate?

Saturday night he had the bright idea of including Nightcrawler in a pre-bedtime game of Yu-Gi-Oh. This he said while holding a deck of cards that was 3 inches thick. He really is a master of delaying tactics. I agreed to play one game on the condition that each of us have 20 cards each in our decks - a sure way to end the game in time for bed.

It was kinda funny playing against a plastic toy. Since he was handicapped (read: inanimate) I offered to "hold" his cards for him. Miguel played as if Nightcrawler were a real opponent, reacting jubilantly every time he sent the X-man's monster to the graveyard. But then....

Nightcrawler had a Card Destruction spell up his sleeve. He threw it in towards the end of the game, when Miguel and I had already run out of monsters. So yes, dear readers, we lost. In Miguel's words "I can't believe we lost to an action figure!" And a novice action figure at that.

Must be his mutant powers at work.

So guess who was a sore loser. Tsk tsk tsk.

That's what I like about him :)

Happy Valentine's Day!

What the...?

With Miguel, a regular conversation isn't always "regular." This one happened right after I told him that it was time to go downstairs for lunch.

Miguel, picking up his Command Wolf zoid: Mommy, are dogs and wolves enemies?

Me: No, in fact they're related.

Miguel: How?

Me: Well, wolves are a kind of dog. Wild dogs.

(We arrive at the dining room and Miguel puts the Command Wolf in front of our Jackrussel terrier.)

!?

Me: What are you doing?

Miguel: I'm seeing if Rover will fall in love with the wolf.

Well, the sparks weren't flying between Rover and the zoid. But I suspect that Miguel would have been happier if the dog attacked the wolf.

And, uh, I think that he needs a playmate as well.

'I want to marry her!'

Here we go again.

He's said that so many times that I can't remember how many girls he's wanted to marry. And he's only 5.

There was Claire, Nessie, Roan, Sam...

Flashback to the middle of 2005
Miguel, to Roan: Will you marry me?
Roan: No.
Samantha, overhearing: I'll marry you Miguel.

...my friend Marmie, Ninang (arranged marriage), and my friend Jen.

Now he wants to marry Chloe, the 5-year-old daughter of my second cousin Jean. Since they live way down the street from us, you'd think that they'd be bonded. But actually they only saw each other during children's parties and infrequent visits.

Now Chloe has moved to Miguel's school, and on top of that, they're carpool mates. He's absolutely thrilled to have a regular playmate in school and at home. She seems to be excited about him too, and her mom says that Chloe regularly pesters her to pay Miguel a visit. Ever since he asked her to play SD Gundam on his PS2.

When I told Jean that Miguel liked Chloe, she was all for it. Sure. But I think that it's just too early for me to deal with this.

How do I explain this

This I have to tell.

With all the problems that I have, I turned to God. I know he's there and I know that he has the answer. It's just that my faith is sometimes so small and I get impatient. I want to fight, I want to argue, I want to proclaim my innocence...and probably strain a few relationships along the way. But deep inside I know that it isn't right and I wouldn't be walking in faith that way. I have to be patient. I have to wait for his solution.

I haven't really listened to God for a long time, but now I really want to hear what he has to say. 'Cause I'm tired of crying and being stressed.

So this morning I woke up at 5am. I usually wake up in early in the morning, because I feel cold. I automatically check on Miguel in his bed beside mine, and he's usually curled up so I put the blanket over him and turn down the fan. But this time, after I got back in bed and under the sheets, I waited. What is it, God?

And do you know what he said?

He said, "you're always looking after Miguel even if he doesn't know it. He wakes up every morning without the slightest clue of what you've done for him. Don't you think that I'm the same? How much more would I do for you? You just don't know it, but I'm always taking care of you."

I felt like he just laid a blanket over me.

Anyway, I went back to sleep. And later this morning I got a phone call. Looks like everything's going to be okay. Isn't he great?

Honestly I really feel so undeserving. He's so good even when I'm so rotten. He said a lot more, about me having to learn my lesson. In the same way that I want Miguel to learn his lessons so that he can grow up. Sometimes I think that it's so hard to learn when in fact it's just a matter of doing what he says. Something I should have known by now.

And oh yeah, thank God for my mom as well.

Girls, girls, girls

As told by my mom

Miguel: I don't want to go to Ateneo!

Mom: Why?

Miguel: Because there are no girls there.

Ninang: You know Miguel, there's a school beside Ateneo called Miriam, and it's full of girls. Do you want to go to Ateneo now?

Miguel, excited: Yes, yes, yes! (Jumping excitedly) I love girls! I love girls! I love girls!

(Mom laughs)

Ninang: Hay nako Miguel, I'm glad that you love girls. (Muttering) At least you don't love boys.

Miguel, quick change: I love boys! I love boys! I love boys!

:)

Gentleman

Last Sunday there were too many children in Miguel's Sunday School class, so the boys were made to go to a different room. The girls were left behind. He didn't understand why the girls had to be left behind.

Me: It's better to move the boys than the girls because boys are stronger. You have to be a gentleman.

Miguel: I don't want to be a gentleman.

Me: You mean that if you are in a train and you are sitting down and there is no other seat left, you will not give your seat to a girl?

Miguel: I want to stay in my seat.

Me, thinking fast: What if you are an adult and mommy is a lola, and we are in a train and there is only one seat? Will you let me sit down?

Miguel: I will let you sit down

(I smile)

Miguel: ...and I will sit in your lap.

Me, appalled: But Miguel, you're an adult! You will not sit on my lap as an adult, will you?

Miguel: Then I will sit down, and YOU will be the one to sit in my lap.

Mwahahahaha!

Where did the fun go?

Okay I've been saying this to myself for years, so since I'm on the brink of it I may as well write about it.

Once upon a time I asked myself, "when did life stop being fun?" And after some thinking I concluded, "when I had to go to school."

Think about it. When you're a kid all you ever do is play. Play with your cousins, play with your toys, watch TV, then play, play , play. Then grade school comes around. And all of a sudden you have to wake up early every day, hie off to school, do assignments, and eventually try to make the grade.

(Little did I realize that life becomes a little less fun for the parents too. Big school signals the start of a never-ending ritual of waking up early, saving up for incidentals, and don't forget paying the tuition.)

Despite all that I flourished in a traditional school. I was the kind of kid that didn't have to study yet got good grades. If I were ambitious - meaning that if my parents had pushed me, since I was too young to understand - I could have become one of those nerdy kids with all the honors. Thank God that didn't happen!

But notwithstanding my above-average performance, I resented school. In a way I felt like it was a prison.The rules. The nuns. The box that I had to follow. Remember having to stand 2 blocks (tiles) away from the next student at flag ceremony? Or having to walk in single file on the right side of the corridor? Makes my skin crawl to think that Miguel will have to live that way for the next 8 years. I grew up in that mold and in spite of my being an artist and an ad writer I am still totally anal.

To be honest I would really prefer a non-traditional school where students are encouraged to think creatively. There are a few good ones, just a bit more expensive than Ateneo. But it would be a new concept for my family. (You know, the one where everyone went to Ateneo.)

More than anything I would need family support to send my son to a different school. Can you imagine the constant questioning, "what school is that again?" and me having to explain why I chose that school. I'd have to have an airtight reason for sending him there. ADD? There's a possibility, but...nah.

And there's also this thing about your child's learning style. That you should put him in the kind of set-up in which he will thrive. Well guess who turned out obssessive-compulsive like his mom?

I know, I know. I'm always denying my obssessive-compulsiveness.

But honestly. I'm so thrilled that Miguel's going to Ateneo. When I got the letter informing me that he had passed the entrance exam, I realized that this was the first time that he achieved something totally on his own. Well, not really the first. Remember that he was promoted to yellow belt in taekwondo last year.

For the entrance exam, he went into the Guidance Department with 20 other kids and came out 40 minutes later. I had no idea what went on inside. I asked him how the test was, and he replied, "it was easier than the mock exam." Well whatever happened in there I guess he had an easy time because he passed.

So now we're bound for Ateneo. Big school. But wait...let me pay the tuition on Monday first. Thanks to my bro Gueli can enroll this year.

So will life stop being fun for Gueli? I really hope not. He really wants to go to Ateneo. Ever since we brainwashed him at age 2 by telling him that there are a lot of corners in La Salle. (As in, "stand in the corner!")

The thing he will miss is having girls for classmates. Oh no! Who will he kiss now? Who will he ask to marry him next? Man, he's got to get over that habit soon.

Exciting, isn't it?

Hello 2006!

Now that my deadlines have been met I can sit back and write again.

The new year started off pretty good. Miguel and I have been arriving at school - and at work - on time. Kinda getting ready for June, when I'll be bringing him to big school instead.

This morning Miguel practically jumped up from bed at 6 a.m. because he wanted to play Yu-Gi-Oh before dressing up for school. I usually wake up at 6:30, and Ninang usually wakes him up at 6:45. Imagine her surprise when she came in to find us with a card game in progress.

Talk about planning ahead. Mom told me that last night he turned of the TV at 8:30 and told the nanny that it was time for him to go to bed. No wonder. This kid is very motivated when it comes to play.

I guess that I should write about the holidays but unfortunately my sis lost her digicam so I will rely on the relatives for images. Let me gather my thoughts a moment. Hmm. Well, we stayed up a lot and ate a lot and played a lot of Harry Potter on the PS2. The Christmas and New Year's eve gatherings and cousins' night out were a blast as usual. Miguel decided that he believes in Santa Claus this year, so it's fortunate that Santa gifted him with a video game.

No, Miguel doesn't have his own room yet, nor his own bed. But at least he's going to big school. Thank God for that.

Shake yer groove thing

What can I say? It was a really great wedding. Miguel dutifully fulfilled his role as ringbearer, and at the reception afterward, he finally learned to dance.

No thanks to me, that is.

The minute I left the dance floor, he took on the 2 flower girls, who were much better dancers - and not to mention, teachers. He started copying their moves, and by the time I got back, Miguel was dancing with everybody else!



The drinks were flowing, the music was great, and all our loved ones were present. My cousin Lina (a.k.a. "disco queen") admitted that her entire table was tipsy even before dinner began. Me? I didn't need a single drink to get me on the floor. I didn't even care that I couldn't dance to save myself.

Good thing that I had a more-than-willing dance partner :)

Zzz Day

Last night Miguel went to sleep on his own.

Big deal, you might say. But for me it really is a big deal. I'm looking to move him into his new room by the end of the year at the latest. My sister's old room is almost empty now, thanks to my brother's housecleaning due to the upcoming wedding.

But I digress.

Last night I came home from work just as he was trying to sleep. After a kiss and a hug, he asked me if I would read him a story before having my dinner. I agreed, on the condition that he go to sleep after one chapter (we're reading book 1 of The Chronicles of Narnia now).

At the end of the chapter, I called the nanny to keep him company in the room, but he said, "Why don't I go to sleep on my own?" The suggestion made me do cartwheels in my mind. Acting very calmly, I tucked him into bed, turned out the light, left the door half-open as he requested, and went downstairs to have dinner.

Ten minutes later as I'm eating my fish and veggies I hear tiny footsteps on the second floor landing and a sweet voice: "Mom-my!" Getting up from my meal to meet him, Miguel tells me that it's too dark in the room. Take two. I go back to the bedroom, turn on a lamp, tuck him in, close the door, and go back to my meal.

After another ten mintues I pass through Miguel's future room, into our connecting bathroom. I can hear him playing in my bedroom. He hears me puttering around the bathroom and opens the door, quickly shutting it the moment he sees me. I decide to go check him out. He is lying on my bed, saying that it's too bright and that he can't sleep. I decide to turn off the lamp and turn on an insect-trapping lamp that's dim enough to serve as a night light. He asks if he can sleep on my bed, and I say sure. I tuck him in a third time.

Five minutes later, as I'm about to take a bath, I hear only silence in my room. Finally.

After my bath I enter my room to see a cute bundle on my bed, surrounded by pillows. I smile. I'm gonna miss it when he's in his own room, but I'm thrilled at the thought of his independence. One day he's not even gonna want to hang around me. Well hope not. I enjoy being on his pedestal, and I kinda hope it'll last forever.

I decide to wait a few minutes before I move him to his own bed.

Won't be long now.

Hereeeeee's Cable

Two Saturdays ago I told Miguel everything I had learned about Venom - that he was a symbiote (a fancy word for "parasite"), that he was an alien, and that he had possessed Spiderman at one time. Guess what? He got scared. He didn't want to hear any more about Venom and insisted that he be Cable instead.

So four days before the office Halloween party I pushed the panic button and made plans for a quick Cable costume. Helloooo glue gun.

To those not in the know, Cable has a robotic left arm. I was supposed to paint some cables on a stocking for Miguel's arm, but since he didn't want me to paint his gun as well, we decided to forego the silver parts. As for the platinum white hair, he didn't want any powder in his hair. The scar on the face? Good grief, if I was gonna skip the silver arm and gun, why bother? It was getting to be too much for me to deal with.

Well I got a lot of good reviews for the costume. The good news is that a lot of people recognized that he was one of the X-men. The bad news is they all though that it was Cyclops. As in, "where's his visor?" Oh well. I can't have it all can I. Especially in four days' notice while I have to atend a shoot.

And did you know that Cable is the son of Cyclops and Jean Grey? See the family resemblance?

Next year he has to decide on his costume by September.

Venom

My son wants to be Venom. At least for a day. This Halloween.

That's what you get from playing a lot of PS2. His favorite game is Marvel vs. Capcom 2. I know that it's a very old game, but he's acquired such a proficiency for it. And besides it was the only game we could play for the longest time when the left toggle button on both controllers were busted.

He's been deciding about his Halloween costume since last year - that's how excited he is about scaring people. And it seems to him that Venom's look would be the scariest.

So I've been checking up on Venom today, and this is what I've found:



Of course the hardest part is recreating the face. I was ready to put my UP College of Fine Arts skills to the test. I warned Miguel that he would have to wear a mask to get the tongue right, but he said, "why not a hat?" I thought to myself, "Aw, shucks. So much for the papier mache."

Oh well. The whole circus is for the kids anyway so a hat it will be.

As for the body, I found a solution when I saw this image on the net:


All right! So now I'm excited. With 2 weeks to go I'll have just enough time. I still haven't figured out the hat, but I'm sure Miguel and I could work something out.

My 2 favorite boys

The first picture was taken during Mike's birthday brunch; the second last Sunday after a trip to the arcade.

I can't resist taking a picture of the banana split. Miguel insists on sharing it with his tito. He thinks that it's more fun to have a contest as to who can eat most of the bananas. Guess who won.

Miguel has a new game

It's called "hit the monkey." Can anybody guess how it's played?

I haven't signed my name in 6 years

My aunt needed a wedding gift and wanted to know if I had any paintings left over from my old series. Not wanting to turn her down, I suggested that I make her a new one.

So after 3 almost-sleepless nights (not consecutive, thank God!) I'm done and quite tired but happy that I'm painting.

Some compositions are a piece of cake, but this one was a bit more complicated than my previous one. I remember sitting there in the middle of the night thinking how I was gonna mix pink and green without getting things muddy and still convey volume. Pardon me, I can't help it. Sometimes I just miss the shop talk.

In the end, when I finally got the effect that I wanted, I got that "hey, I did it" feeling all over again. I remembered what I told myself every day I was in art school: "The more I know, the more I realize that I don't know." No, that wasn't a tongue-twister. Trust me it makes sense. And do forgive my rambling on; my brain has been reduced to slush after only 3 hours' sleep.

Mom saw me through the process - she of the late nights at the computer. At half past 5 she passed by my room to see how I was doing. I mentioned that I was hungry and she got me some hopia on a tissue because my hands were stained with paint and linseed oil. Now who else can you count on to give you hopia at 5 AM? I thank God every day for the mom that I have.

I told my mom that I was planning to sign my name on the back since the painting was relatively small. She disagreed. "Of course you should sign it," she said. It got me thinking. I'm sure that my aunt would want her friend to know that I had done it. And after all, I've signed and sold scores of paintings.

So I chose a spot and mixed my color. And that's when I realized - I hadn't signed my name in a painting for 6 years! My last show was in November 1999. After so many years, I'd forgotten why I kept such tiny, fine-haired brushes! I thought they were just for irises in tiny portraits, or for baby's breath stems. Gee, it's been a long time.

Do pardon me; I really am so tired. Just wanted to share the good news. In spite of the late nights, painting does make me happy. I just have to figure out a better way to do it. Maybe I should stick to a smaller sized canvas. Or just use pastels. Whatever. I'm glad.

Kitchen insanity

Last Saturday I decided to cook for my family and friends. Just 2 dishes, since I really don't cook: our famous carbonara, and Lemon Chicken Caper, a recipe from my officemate.

Here's what I learned from the whole experience.

1. Women who can cook a delicious meal and still look good are goddesses.
How do they do it? I only had to cook 2 dishes, but I had help from my mom, my sis, and our kitchen helper. And don't forget other details like the salad, garlic bread, serving dishes, and ice.

2. Never cook a first-time dish for a big group.
It looks easy enough when you read the recipe - but it's a different story when you're doing it from beginning to end. First-time dishes are fine for a regular day, but you don't need the pressure when you have to entertain guests as well. Thank God that these people are all family to me.

3. Stick to the recipe.
Improvising is okay, but not for first-time recipes. Save the fine-tuning for later. No matter how much of a hurry you're in, resist the temptation to pour in the whole bottle of capers when the recipe calls for only 4 tablespoons. :D

4. Have mom in the kitchen.
Or someone like her, to build your confidence. Though she isn't a cook, my mom's always supportive, never puts anyone down and always helps out. I'm a lucky gal ain't I?

5. Taste the salad dressing first.
I just grabbed the first bottle I saw, assuming that it was the one my mom told me about. By the time I sat down to eat most of the guests had finished their salad - too late! My apologies to the unsuspecting victims, myself included.

6. Have at least one back-up.
One sure-fire dish that you didn't cook yourself. Grill Queen to the rescue!

7. Prepare post-meal snacks and/or activities.
Some love coffee; others like nuts. For us, Doritos and and Playstation 2 did the trick. Not to mention chocolate truffles (including take-home) for Gai.


But what I learned most was that my family loves me. Because my sister fussed over the carbonara. Because my mom stuck it out in the kitchen with me. Because nobody complained about the sub-standard salad dressing. (Fie Craving's Ceasar's salad dressing!) And because they ate everything that I served.

I didn't get a rave review that day but the fact that all that carbonara was wiped out the following day convinced me that it wasn't bad at all. In fact, it was quite good.

Well. Practice makes perfect. But I promise myself that I'll take up a cooking class someday. Fiiind.

INterRupted

Okay, so I was posting a new entry to this blog but then my officemate Mondo came in with a tray full of cold cuts and cheese - his birthday treat.


L-R: Lala a.k.a. Babes, Joaqui, Sonny a.k.a. Buboy, Ace a.k.a. H_ _ K _ E , the birthday boy, Bernice, and moi

Judith offered a bottle of cabernet suavignon and would you believe that after only 2 glasses (I mean, mugs) I already have a buzz. Suffice it to say that as far as I am concerned the workweek is done (at least until this happy-happy-joy-joy feeling wears off).

Long live MOnDo! Cheers!

The BWIs

I get together with my high school friends maybe six times a year. We used to be a bigger group, but as one after the other married or moved abroad, our group was whittled down to four.

We call ourselves the BWI, short for BWIset. In Tagalog, "bwiset" means to be ticked off. The meaning of those 3 letters changes according to our disposition. Various interpretations are: Beautiful Women In a Set, Bitchy Women In a Set, Bodacious Women In a Set. I forget the other meanings but they can get weird, depending on what we had for dinner.

My friends meet up a lot, but I don't always join them for various reasons. I know they don't always invite me out since I'm not always available, but it's no skin off me because I know that they're my friends.

Anyway, yesterday was Marmie's birthday so we had an impromptu night out. They're pretty much ladies of leisure, so they can easily meet up on a weekday afternoon at a moment's notice. So as my 3 girlfriends gorged on sinigang and crispy pata at Gerry's Grill, I rushed from Makati to meet them. When I finally joined them at Eastwood they were doing some late-night shopping. We all headed to Jack's Loft for dessert.

After salivating over the cake display, they made their orders while I dug into some pasta pomodoro, courtesy of Gai. The arrival of their chocolate and cheese cakes were greeted with the usual squeals of joy. But as they started eating the inevitable comments started coming in - the cake was too dry, there was too much gelatin in the cheesecake, yadda yadda yadda.

At the end of our meal (my first, their second) Gai remarked how we never learn; we just keep going back to Jack's Loft even if the food isn't good.

I couldn't help thinking about that. Habits die hard. But there is some comfort in things that don't change. Marmie hamming it up for the cam. Lisa dispersing her opinions on this and that. Gai bringing us up to speed on her lovelife. And always, always...the rest of us talking about anyone who isn't there. Beware the trips to the bathroom! :)

We wear each other like second skin. But it's like a favorite jacket you can put on and take off at will. Sometimes we are and sometimes we're not. Our lives touch and then go off in their separate directions. But our shared experiences, like the sun's gravity, always pull us back into our well-worn orbits, towards each other.

I could feel bad when I don't get to join them for a trip out of town, but I don't. As a working mom I've already defined my role and my priorities, and I've never looked back ever since Miguel was born. That, I must say, was when I grew up. And I'm still growing.

But what I like about them is that even though my life is different now, they never let me feel like I have changed. Once a BWI, always a BWI.

I just know that next year we'll find ourselves at Jack's Loft again, wondering why we never learn.

Therapy

Yesterday I was slumped on Miguel's bed, looking glum while he played nearby.

Me: I'm sorry Miguel, I don't feel so good right now.
Miguel: Why?
Me, thinking fast: Because I had a misunderstanding with my friend and it's bothering me.
Miguel: What's a misunderstanding?
Me: It's when you don't understand each other.

He comes over and kisses me. I smile.

Me: Aw, are you trying to cheer me up? (He nods) Thank you Miguel.

I go back to my thoughts. Miguel glances at me, gets a pad of paper from the drawer and asks if he can use it. Sure, I say. A few minutes later he comes to me with a drawing.

Me: What is it?
Miguel: It's a happy ship.

Sure enough instead of the usual jolly roger, there's a smiling face on the flag atop the mast. (jpeg to follow) I smile again and give him a hug. Then he starts writing some gibberish on the pad. He fills it up.

Miguel, handing me the pad: Read it.
Me: What does it say? (I try to hand it back) Tell me.
Miguel: No, you tell me. Just whatever you want it to say.

A bit flustered, I start.

Me: "Mommy, do not feel so sad. I am always here with you."
Miguel: Yes, yes!
Me, smiling: "I love you very much."
Miguel: That's right.
Me, grinning: "You are more beautiful than beautiful."
Miguel: Yes.
Me: "And... (getting ready to grab him) let's play wrestling!"
Miguel: Wrong!
Me: Huh?
Miguel: "Let's eat dinner!"
Me, laughing: Okay!

(For Monday, July 18, 2005, 11:12 AM)

Today I am a pig

At eleven Ellen texts us an invite to Amici, the Italian restaurant in Don Bosco Makati. So many people have been raving about the pizza and gelato in this resto run by Italian priests, but I never got the chance to go. I was never sure if it would be open for dinner since it's located in a school. Well Ellen's treating us to lunch, so we say...go!

We enter the quaint restaurant whose main door is located along Pasay Road, and the scent of baked bread and tomato sauce greets us. Mmmmm! I like this already. It seems that we are standing in what could have been an outdoor cafe area, except that the traffic at the Skyway entrance has forced the priests to enclose this space with glass windows and subdued skylights. Nice. Very Italianni's.

Most of us order pasta while 2 of our companions go for sinigang and lechon kawali on the other side of the restaurant. It seems that before Amici's was built, the site was a cafeteria. Walking to the rear you will find a glass case with the familiar stainless steel pans filled with pinakbet and rellenong bangus for those who hanker for Pinoy fare. It is noon and we easily find a table, but in a matter of minutes the place is bustling as the lunch crowd packs in - office workers, families, ladies who lunch, school kids with their folks, and several elderly, white-haired European gentlemen whom I presume to be Don Bosco priests.

Ellen orders Lasagne al Forno; Peachy chooses Spaghetti Vongole e Gamberetti; and I opt for Ravioli ai 4 Formaggi - home made ravioli with mixed Italian cheeses sauce. Yum! When the entrees arrive the aroma of cheese wafts up from my plate. Hungrily we all tuck in and I am instantly sated by the cheese-stuffed ravioli smothered with thick white sauce.

A pan of Sicilian pizza comes in as well and we try not to look like gluttons as each one timidly reaches out for an anchovy-laden slice. (Remember, one slice only! Ladies should not be so obvious when they're acting like pigs.)

To be honest the pasta was filling but not spectacular. The bread would have been good on its own but I could not even taste the garlic on the overly-generous dab of DariCreme. And at around P170 per plate it isn't really that cheap. The pizza? I've only tasted one, so I'll reserve judgement for that.

But the gelato was to die for.

The seven of us chose a scoop apiece. And being Filipino, we all shared flavors: dark chocolate, hazelnut, chocolate with nuts, mint chip, pistacchio, dark chocolate (again), and orange. All excellent, especially the dark chocolate. Oh - but I didn't like the orange, which is not a favorite flavor, but Peachy seemed in ecstasy about it anyway.

So now I have a new craving - gelato on a hot afternoon! I will look to my fellow chocolate fiends Alice and Weng to satisfy this new addiction. You guys should taste it out if you haven't tried it yet. It's open from Mondays to Saturdays, 10AM - 9PM. So there.

I'm soooo stuffed.

How do you say oink in Italian?

"You are invited to view an album"

So I open my email and see that I have another Yahoo!Photos invitation from my shutter-happy friends. Yipee, more pictures! I don't go to all of my friends' gimmicks, but who doesn't enjoy receiving photos? To be honest they meet up so often it's impossible for me to keep up. It's as if they were all joined at the hip - all 20-plus of them. But I knew that Gueli and I were present at my friend's garage sale-cum-ukay-ukay, also known as a "garukay." So I click on the link, and out of the 29 photos, Miguel has just this one close-up with his Tita Binky.



So now it's forever etched in their memories...and yours.