Thankful

Last weekend was my big shoot for a project I've been working on for over four months. It was the cause of many sleepless nights, working Saturdays, and elevated heart rates for me. It was my first time to be the overall production manager on a project after Lilian left, on no less than a three-day multiple location shoot.

In the month before the shoot, my mind was filled with all the things that could possibly go wrong. Would we get our shoot insurance in time? Would the Land Transport Authority realize they gave us permission to shoot on the wrong date? Would this sixth round of casting finally be the last? Was rainy season in Singapore really over? Why wasn't one of the talents answering my calls and texts? What potential crises could come up and how would I respond? (What a vague question huh? This is the one that drove me up the wall.)

Then I had a breakthrough. And the oddest thing happened -- the two final weeks leading up to the shoot were the most relaxed I had had in months. We had pre-production meetings within the team where we realized we barely had anything to discuss. The final PPM with the client was a breeze. We finished packing up all the production stuff -- drinks, snacks, props -- and loaded them into the van at lunchtime the day before the shoot, and not at the last minute or in the dead of night. I even had time to print all the permits and release forms, neatly print each talent's name on payment vouchers and put their fees into separate (recycled) envelopes.

Then I realized four months of pre-production might have been like going into long, painful and drawn-out labor, but without all those months of pre-work, I might have died trying to pull off a shebang like this at the last minute.

And so we shot. Yes, sh*t happened -- a few things went missing, the usual client this-and-that, even the bane of my existence as a PM: overtime (for each hour of which, everyone on the crew charges me 1.5x their hourly rate! Gak!). Yet each day, after shooting wrapped for the day, I felt only two overwhelming things. Fatigue, and gratitude.

I was thankful for... 

... the beautiful, sunny weather and clear blue skies on all three days of the shoot -- even when we were shooting indoors. The day after we wrapped, it began to rain daily.

... the amazing performances of our talents. Our death-defying skateboarder had all of us applauding after takes. Despite literally skateboarding from 9 to 5, he was smiling the entire time.

... for the patience and sense of humor of our extras. They poked fun at each other wearing the compulsory, client-required safety gear, which they said they hadn't worn since they were 10. They had some mad skills too.

... the energy, enthusiasm, good looks and stellar performances of our cast. Every one of these kids was a winner. We had only one non-teen (she was 24!) and you couldn't tell she was a day over 16. For me, she stole the show.

... the kindness of our clients. They had typical client concerns, but nothing we couldn't handle and always delivered in the most pleasant and constructive manner. On the whole I couldn't have asked for better.

... the caring presence of my favorite makeup auntie, Doris. She pampers all the talents, looks after everyone on set and goes beyond the call of duty every time. She even mirrors all the directors' instructions just outside frame, because she believes it will help the talents. She's so cute.

... the support of my team at BDA. I really felt everyone supporting me. They always seem to know what to do and I felt we all worked really well together.

... the generosity of Joan, who owns the yoga centre next door. She allowed us to shoot in her beautiful ground floor studio with nary a second thought. She arrived on set to find a maelstrom of cables, shoes (we had to take them off to avoid damaging her flawless parquet), equipment and furniture and was totally Zen about it. I guess 30 years of yoga does wonders for your equilibrium. Without her, I don't know what I would have done. Her yoga space transformed perfectly into a home jamming setup, with ample space for the crew and equipment.

...  the support of the hubby. Marlon massaged my feet after the shoot, treated me to a lovely dinner at Original Sin in Holland Village (I'm sure it was lovely, although I was so tired I can barely recall tasting anything), and even came over to lift heavy furniture and help dress up the set. James joked that next time we should introduce him as our art director.

More than anything, I'm thankful that it's done! A milestone in my career safely tucked into the folds of my experience. Now, on to the next!

Flip-flopping

Do we take it literally?! Haha!

I've been going back and forth (and back and forth... and then some) over a big work-related decision for the past month or two. My cycles alternate between Hmmm sige na nga and Pakshet #~$@&^%! And the cycling back and forth between the... er, cycles has gotten to almost manic-depressive levels lately.

I exaggerate of course. But it seems as if I change my mind on a day-to-day, and sometimes hour-to-hour basis. When I'm stressed I tend to swing one way, and when I'm rested I come wobbling back in the other direction. Victories at work both big (which I'll blog about this weekend - it must be celebrated!) and small buoy me up, but the weight of other, more consistent stresses at work almost immediately drag me down. Aggravation pulls me down one path, but worries about income and career (your recent posts are so in sync with my life, Pia! Friends talaga tayo!) anchor me in place.

Still, I trust that I'll make the right decision at the right time. My patient husband has played the dutiful therapist through all these mood swings, which I'm thankful for. His listening ear, warm hugs and quiet but unwavering support settles me when I'm most agitated and need to think clearly. And I discovered a prayer for discernment in a book of prayers my in-laws gave us for Christmas, reminding me that big decisions need the wisdom and guidance that escapes us mere mortals.

Wish me luck and pray for me please :)

Sniff

Okay we can't afford the house. Not by a long shot.

It's hard to say goodbye. :P

Survey

Question lang.

What's so great about Tumblr?

Am I a dinosaur for still being on Blogger?

Anong magandang audition song kung balak kong mag-choir ulit?

Zest Air will offer value flights from Singapore to Manila starting end of the month. Ok kaya flights nila? O scary patootsie ba?

What's good to shop for in KL aside from Vincci shoes?

Should I buy a new coffee maker even if we don't drink coffee at home that often?

This old house

I love old houses.

I love the kind that were built in the 50s and 60s, like our old house on Hydra Street in Bel-Air, with adobe walls, crazy-cut flooring, pendant lights and exposed beams.

Even though I am not wild about jalousie windows or solid wood-panelled walls, there is just something about these old houses that speaks to me. Yes, they might have termites or faulty plumbing or deteriorating kitchens, but they also have architectural details you just can't find anymore. They have a light, a kind of magic about them that you can't recreate these days. They remind me of my childhood.

Marlon knows about my love for old houses, but the thought of my... special "abilities", plus what could possibly be lurking in those old houses creeps him out. So he would rather go for a new house. Still, I am hopeful that if we could find the just right old house, I could convince him to go for a fixer-upper instead.

I recently learned about a lovely old house in Mandaluyong, built in the 60s, which used to belong to a person who was very dear to Marlon and myself (and instrumental in our having met at all!). I used to drive by it every day on the way to work and never knew it belonged to that person. It's been put on the market and when I saw the photos I couldn't help myself -- I inquired with the seller's agent.

I hope we can afford it. I would get over my aversion to long-term bank loans for this one. And besides, to assuage my husband's fears, I'm positive the former owner wouldn't be lurking around the house anymore. Heaven must have instantaneously feted her arrival with a sumptuous banquet.

Photo courtesy of M. Besa Roxas.

10 years ago I was 18

UPDATED: Now with pictures and a note on technology!

Maggie and Gutsy's forays into nostalgiatime made me realize, somewhat belatedly, that 2010 marks the passing of an entire decade. So I thought a look back at the Noughties (surely there is something better to call it?) was worth blogging about.

But as I have the awful habit of putting a favorite song on loop literally for years, thus preventing more current songs from penetrating my aural fog, I am not in the best position to make a playlist to commemorate the decade.

So let me just remember how it was 10 years ago, when I was 18.

10 years ago...

... I was a college freshman and my favorite class was English with Doreen Fernandez. I was just beginning to discover how much writing was a part of me, how happy I was doing it, and how good I could really be at it. Ten years later, it's become how I make a living and how I live.

... I was possessed by the terrifying belief that to lose myself in the delicious mindlessness of pleasure, I had to be very deeply in love. To my great relief, I learned that the two could exist independently, thereby leading to some very liberating but otherwise pointless and frustrating... er, adventures.

... I made a powerful choice to be happy, long before I knew I could make such powerful choices, which got me over the biggest heartbreak of my life. Thankfully, no other heartbreak has followed to date.

... I promised to be friends with my first love. We still are.

... I met the man whom I would marry. I never thought he would be the one.

... The singular point of my existence was making it on tour, getting to Europe and having a life-changing adventure. I was probably waiting for some European Lothario to sweep me off my feet, but the real life-changer was the friends I made in the process of making it on tour and singing my way through Europe.

... I fell in love with singing. And after years of being an alto, I became a soprano. Now that was life-changing!

... I was in Slovenia, among other places. And I was shocked to discover not everywhere in Europe was prettier/newer/better than the Philippines. Slovenia!!! How's that for somewhere you'll never be again.

 
Que horror! Ano ba yang bandanna efek? 

... Oh Lord! All my tour pictures were on film. Each roll of film cost roughly Php150 and about the same to develop. I had to really think about which pictures I wanted to take. I saved up for months to have all 18 rolls from the tour developed. In my mind, 10 years is not that long ago since the memories are amazingly fresh -- but looking at these film prints just makes it all seem prehistoric.

...  Speaking of pictures. The only person who had a digital camera back then was multibillionaire wonder boy and pawnshop heir Harvey Villarica. The resolution of this uber-expensive piece of technology was... ONE megapixel. Which meant he could develop them into prints about the size of a postage stamp (or, if you really wanna go back, Neoprint-size). We were all mystified the first time he showed it to us. "Harvey, what will you do with the pictures if you can't develop them?" my English block mates wondered. "Put them on the Internet," he shrugged. We just stared at him. "But... what for?" Ah, the dark ages.

... My family and I were struggling to make ends meet. There were days where I literally would have to scrounge up fifty pesos just to be able to go to school. Things are vastly improved now, to say the least.

... I shared a bedroom with my sister, with my mom in the next room. Today we live in three different cities -- Sta. Rosa, Kuala Lumpur and Singapore.

... I was at least 35 lbs lighter. This in spite of the fact that I would have a three-pack of Chips Ahoy or a chocolate bar everyday. Well at least now we know how I got to my present weight. Hah.

... And in spite of the fact that I was 35 lbs lighter, I absolutely did not take advantage of my skinny-ness and dressed like an eejit. My favorite outfit was flared jeans, black leather platforms from the mercato in Milan, a blouse and a Jansport backpack. Ngek. My second favorite outfit was army green cargo pants, a large t-shirt, and sneakers. Fug. This style of dressing created the impression that I was either butch (Marlon: "I thought you hated guys") or an athlete (Mags Imaizumi: "Oh aren't you on the soccer varsity? You dress like the type"). Go figure.

 I loved this butchy grey Esprit jacket to death. I wore it all over Europe 
with my passport, wallet, camera AND travel journal stuffed into my tummy pocket 
like a dumpy manang kangaroo. I even cried when it went missing. 

Now I wish I could reach into this photo and rip it off me. 
Mamatay na lang ako sa lamig.

... I was one, maybe two cup sizes smaller. I would gladly give back my boobs if I could also give back the rest of the poundage I've accumulated since then.

... I had virgin hair. (High school attempts to "dye" it with Kool-Aid do not count.) I had only just discovered how not to tweeze my eyebrows to invisibility. Upper lip waxing, moisturizer, eye cream and sunblock were not yet part of my beauty vocabulary. The only sunblock in my consciousness was Coppertone and you would never think of putting that gunk on your face if you weren't at the beach.

... I failed Math 12. Ten years later, does it matter? Hell no.

... Come to think of it, I can say with perfect honesty and zero regret that I once woke up to find myself in bed with my Math 12 teacher and his wife! (Be not alarmed: Lorna, Gerard and I were in the same Glee Club caroling group that year and we slept in the sofabed in Eunice's den after caroling in Alabang. I was sleeping next to Lorna, naturally. LOL!)

Two years ago

I was on honeymoon in India.

Ten days later, I landed in Singapore and started my new life as Marlon's wife.

Time flies.

Oopsy!

Thank you Drei for telling me comment posting was off.

It's back on now. I was wondering why it was so quiet around here. Comment away, people!

Bohol-bound!

I am having a wonderful day!

The final PPM for next week's shoot went off without a hitch. I got home early from the meeting because my boss didn't want to drive back to the office from faraway Loyang. I got home in time to catch up on some feminine upkeep (handwashing clothes with Woolite and epilating!). And I'm making plans for my upcoming vacation, which just fills me with so much excitement!

Marlon and I had decided on Cebu for Chinese New Year because a) I've never been there, b) it's a direct flight from Singapore and c) last year's hullaballoo over Marketman's lechon had driven Marlon to the very edge of desire!

Then we started thinking of hitting the beach. A few DOPs (that's Director of Photography, a.k.a. camera man) I've worked with had shot in Bantayan and Malapascua, and were all raving about it. (To my great delight -- yes, me, Miss Philippines Tourism-Singapore.) Malapascua seemed great, but the four-hour bus trip was an issue for me.

It was my sister who came up with the brilliant suggestion of Bohol.

Only an hour's ferry ride away from the Cebu seaport (I sound like a tourist brochure already!), it also had a lot of other fun stuff to do like the Loboc river cruise, see the Chocolate Hills in 3D (and not on cheap textbook newsprint!) and meet Benjamin Linus' little bug-eyed cousins, the tarsiers.

Generally I found the accommodations on Panglao (the ones listed online anyway) a lot more expensive than those on Malapascua. And I was momentarily tempted by the rustic cuteness of the Bohol Bee Farm, except I wasn't too wild about the swimming area, a small, rocky pocket of beach they had to themselves. But after some sleuthing I found the lovely La Pernela Beachfront Resort on the opposite side of the island from Alona Beach, a nice place with great reviews at a reasonable price. Plus when I called the owner, she sounded like Maggie's mom haha. So soon as I make the deposit on the rooms, we'll be all set!

I love planning vacations. This is going to be a fabulous way to celebrate after my Disney shoot in KL!

Getting there

I had to stay late at work tonight to finish a Powerpoint presentation for a meeting tomorrow. I didn't mind at all, because I am just so glad to be reaching a huge milestone in a project that I've been working on for the past four or five months.

It's the final pre-production meeting (PPM), one last run-through and final approval of all my casting, location, wardrobe and other troubles before the actual shoot next week. Getting to this point means that everything has been approved by The Powers That Be and that the shoot will push through as scheduled. Trust me, even after pre-production has been going on for 4-5 months, there's never a guarantee that it will push through. Parang tour diba? Wala kang guarantee until nakasakay ka na sa eroplano. Or at least that's what officers tell the trainees to scare them, haha.

There was a time I felt as it we would never get to the final PPM! Clients always have a right to refuse anything we present (a right they love to use, more often than not) and it seemed like we had run into a wall of "no no no no no absolutely not" at one point. Thankfully now the last few loose ends are being tied up, and all I have to worry about is getting through my very first shoot as producer and line producer (without Lilian, I might add, who leaves Yeti-sized shoes to fill).

It's a three day shoot with multiple locations, so it was giving me sleepless nights just worrying about organizing the logistics and making sure sh*t doesn't happen. Funny, I used to see the titles "producer" and "line producer" in film credits and wonder what it meant. Now I know it means planning for sh*t, making sh*t happen according to plan and making sure sh*t doesn't happen. 

The price we pay for learning things, huh?

Epiphany

Sorry if this all seems rather cryptic. I'm thinking aloud.

I attended Mass today for the first time in a long time. Today is the feast of the Epiphany, where the baby Jesus revealed himself to the Three Kings.

I had a bit of an epiphany myself. I just realized that I've been forcing myself to do something that I don't like doing just to prove to myself that I can do it. Not because it makes me happy and fulfilled, or because it's something I'm passionate about, but to defy doubts unspoken (from myself) and imagined (from others) in my ability to do it.

And after all these months, I just realized that I can do it, but I just don't like it. That I have a right to not like one thing and prefer the other. Isn't that strange? I've been feeling like something's wrong with me because I don't enjoy doing it. But that's the way people are. There are things we like and don't like, and we don't have to like everything.

It's like really liking chocolate and being presented with vanilla. I don't like the taste of vanilla -- I really like chocolate but force myself to eat vanilla just to make myself seem "normal." But actually, preferring chocolate is normal too! How absurd huh?

And so this is the space I'm in for now. Being okay with not liking something, and not forcing myself to like it. It may seem to you like a "duh" moment, an odd epiphany or an insignificant, self-evident one.

But for now, it's better than the place I was in just a few weeks, days or even moments ago. Let's see where we can go from here.

Just the two of us

When I was a little brat, the only thing I hated about the holidays was the inevitable deluge of visitors. What seemed like an endless parade of vans would disgorge relations or family friends from out of town, who descended upon our family as their holiday treat.

I especially hated when this happened on Christmas Day because it meant we couldn't open the gifts until every last visitor went away. Seeing that giant pile of unopened gifts winking at you until five or six in the evening on Christmas Day was just pure torture. Then of course there was all the noise (which we Pinoys find necessary to make holidays "masaya") and fawning and pinching that comes with all those people. My mom still has pictures of little bratty me clinging to her and refusing to talk to people. One look at my squelched-up tampo face and you can practically hear me begging her to just send all these people away.

Eventually either I got used to it or the number of holiday crashers dwindled (Christmas visitors, of course, being directly proportional to size of house and family income), but soon enough I got old enough to not want quiet holidays so badly.

Twenty-odd years later I finally, surprisingly get my wish.

Marlon and I had been thinking of heading down to Marina Bay for the New Year's Eve countdown, the only place where fireworks are legal in this country. But I hadn't been feeling well and the thought of massive crowds, an epic trek home by bus, or squabbling with half of Singapore to get a taxi afterwards struck me dumb with fear. So I stayed at home and rested. Which was... really, really nice.

Marlon and I cooked dinner together, which is something that always relaxes me and cheers me up. Our first Media Noche was simple -- we broiled salmon steaks in wine and butter, then baked them with a glaze of mustard and brown sugar.

While the fish was in the oven, I slipped into a nice long dress that I normally don't wear out, and spritzed on some perfume. Marlon put on a red t-shirt with a Chinese character on it that he hoped meant something like good fortune.

With ten minutes till midnight, the part of me that is secretly waiting to transform into my mother kicked in. I went into a table-setting frenzy, faint parental admonitions about making everything clean and shiny and fancy to welcome the new year echoing in my subconscious.

We cleared the dining table of the junk it manages to accumulate every so often to make space for some cream-colored hybrid carnations that Marlon had bought for me the day before. I set out strawberries in a bowl, lit a handful of tealights from Ikea, and turned off all the lights except for the Christmas tree and a paper floor lamp. Et voila!

We filled our glasses with sparkling wine (do you know you can't call it champagne unless it's from Champagne, France?) and clinked them at midnight, toasting to more adventures in the coming year. We said grace before dinner, thanking God for our blessings and asking him to make the new year kinder to those burned and scarred by the year that was. We dug into our salmon steaks in the candlelight, marveling at the fact that we had never had a candlelit dinner at home before.

And I realized it was the first time that I was welcoming new year without my family -- and as much as I missed them, that it was okay. Because this is also my family now.

Just the two of us (oh alright -- and the cat)... until further notice.

Have a blessed and fulfilling New Year, everyone!

Two years

Two can be such a beautiful number.

How has the second year been different from the first? In many little insignificant-yet-significant ways.

We have more things, more clothes, a new bookshelf by the entryway and new upholstery in the dining room. We color our hair less. Marlon weighs less (and dresses better, if you ask me). We switched bed sides. We fight much, much less than we did in our first year, despite me being somewhat less eager to please and prove myself as a wife. In fact, I don't remember a single fight we had this year.

We are beginning to see our dreams slowly being fleshed out into reality. We have savings (!) and earn more as a unit. We've rented out our spare room. We don't spend a bomb on groceries anymore. We do Iyengar yoga for beginners on Monday evenings. Actually, we exercise together, period. (Although we swim less often.) We cook together less often, but we still do sometimes, which I find extremely therapeutic and enjoyable. We are supposed to be closer to having a baby, but we keep moving the "deadline."

I would like to be trite and cutesy and say that the only things that haven't changed are the love and happiness of being married to my husband. But that wouldn't be true, because they have -- they've grown greater and deeper, and have simply become, in a word, more.

Happy second anniversary, sweetie. I love you!

C is for Christmas

A few days before Christmas, Marlon gave me a choice. Did I want something:

a) Young, up-and-coming
b) Classic and sophisticated
c) Mature, chic and understated

I am at an age where aging is already beginning to scare me, so I ruled out B automatically. It sounded too old. So I let him vacillate between A and C, although I told him the only reason I would probably lean towards A was because the word "mature" makes me leery. Then he warned me that A was pretty close to something I already had. So I said, ok fine, C then.

On Christmas Eve, I found out that C was actually a B.

Actually, to be precise, C was a B.V.

Say hello to my newest black, buttery soft baby :-) A fantastic choice by Marlon and my favorite Christmas gift of all!

Ho ho ho

Merry Christmas everyone! How was your Christmas weekend?

Mine was full of laughter (thanks to the ACS part and my first Sesqui Tandres gathering ever!), sleep (thanks to the cold, lulling breezes of Sta. Rosa, Laguna!), gifts (thanks to my thoughtful loved ones)... and pork!

Yes, pork. I think I've consumed more porcine delights this weekend than I have in the last six months. But how could I resist the spicy crunch of chicharon on Christmas Eve and the sodium-laden cured goodness of our family fave, Majestic Ham? Forget Purefoods Fiesta Ham -- in the Paul household, Majestic is the real star of the Noche Buena feast!

Speaking of gifts, Marlon opened his last Christmas gift from me when we got home from the airport last night. I was worried that it might turn out to be a cop-out (cue the wek-wek-wek sound effect) but he really loved it! I got him a Zwilling J.A. Henckels set of Four-Star kitchen knives. :) He was so pleased with it that he straightaway tossed his old Ikea knife block and began paring an apple... even if it was past midnight  and neither of us was hungry.

I also got him the "Ondoy" series of paintings by Lotsu Manes from West Gallery, which we had been eyeing a few months ago. I thought it was also a perfect gift for our second anniversary, since the subjects of the series came in twos.

I bought the paintings without having seen the actual canvases, but when Marlon unwrapped them in Manila I was happy to discover that they looked even more wonderful then they did online. Plus, Sol from West Gallery wrapped them really well, and didn't even charge me a delivery fee! :)

Sadly, though, the holidays are over for me (way too soon!) and I'm back in the office. It feels awful to be back here while everyone is on holiday. There are a grand total of three people here and even my boss isn't here though I didn't hear anything about him going on leave today!

Good thing I have some holiday souvenirs with me -- three unwanted pounds, a mild case of gout in my finger joints and a box of coffee butterscotch squares from Conti's in the fridge (which got squashed in the plane so now it's a giant wonky slab of pastry!).

Oh and not to mention my absolute favorite gift this year... from Marlon of course. More later ;)

Trial run

... or more like a trial walk.

This evening Marlon went for an hour-long, 4 to 5km walk around Bishan Park, a very nice open space that's roughly five to ten minutes' drive from our house. We walked with Shivaani, Marlon's closest friend here in Singapore who's returning to India for good tomorrow evening. They used to walk a lot together when Marlon was still living by itself, so it was a last hurrah of sorts, a farewell to a favorite pastime.

Me? I've never liked walking, so whenever Marlon would suggest we go for a walk, I would always combat his enthusiasm with my inertia. Eventually he stopped asking. But tonight's walk was really nice -- so nice, in fact, that I wondered why I don't walk more often.

What made it so nice: the weather has been rather un-Singaporean as of late -- cool and breezy instead of hot and humid, proper December weather as it should be. The park was quiet and peaceful, with clearly marked, well-paved walking trails. Just talking along the trail was really quite relaxing. And the bulk in my tummy (composed of the risotto I had for dinner) disappeared quickly, leaving me with a surprisingly flat stomach so soon after eating.

This might very well become a regular thing. Lately I've been thinking of giving up muay thai because I've become so disconcerted with how wide my shoulders and back have become. It's all the upper-body training: push-ups and punching. I look like a wrestler :-P which is not good if you're a 5 foot 1 inch female. I've actually even started thinking about taking up running, which seems to be the new yoga, and which I dislike even more than walking.

Hmmm. This means I should probably give my Divisoria-bought, porma-only Nikes a rest and get some real walking shoes. After Christmas perhaps...

Therapy

• Marlon and his gift guessing game (for Christmas, this time). He all but gave it away to make sure he got something that he would not regret giving me. I'm excited!
• Downtime chats with office colleagues (with topics such as the best time to shop at Cash Converters for really cheap designer coffee machines).
• Shopping for gifts (and nicking an item for myself here and there).
• Irish cream hot chocolate and Jackson Five Christmas carols while wrapping gifts in bright snowman-printed red paper, and gold paper with holiday greetings stamped in flowery script.
• Gray, rainy weather that seems perfect for Christmas.
• The prospect of home in a few days.
• Facebook - no Farmville or Mafia wars for me, but just looking up friends to see what they're up to. Looking at babies and weddings is fun.
• Very friendly talents who have been fun to work with during wardrobe fittings.
• Forever 21 opening up a four-story emporium five minutes from the office! I have yet to go shopping for myself, but I've sussed out the goods with some wardrobe shopping for a shoot.
• Twinkling lights reflecting off red and gold ornaments off the tree.
• New prospects.
• Marlon's Christmas bonus!
• Sleeping late on a Saturday morning after a long work week.
• Morning hugs from my husband.
• Rogue's warm bulk curled up in between my feet at night, and her paws on my stomach in the morning
• Crispy adobo flakes for brunch. Mmmm.
• Realizing that work, despite its enormity, is not everything -- and that I'm really still very lucky.
• Realizing that despite the number of people I've heard complaining about how stressful the holidays are -- I'm not one of them, and the holidays are still fun!

Loved

I had to go to the office yesterday. It was a sunny, blue-skied Saturday afternoon, and while I'm not the outdoorsy type, I still would have preferred to spend such an afternoon elsewhere. It was to do something that I thought was wasteful and dumb: print, manually collate back-to-back, and ring-bind five sets of an 80-page, full-color Powerpoint presentation as requested by a client for a meeting on Monday morning. Bleh.

The printer was fucking up big time, and I had to print more than one set several times over. I was feeling short-tempered and stressed and utterly disgruntled at having to spend a perfectly lovely weekend afternoon in the office.

Then I looked over behind my Mac monitor to see my husband sitting in one of the office chairs, engrossed in a game on his phone. He looked up and smiled at me.

Then I remembered that I was blessed with a best friend and wonderful partner who willingly, without complaint, kept me company in the dull, stressful, even pointless moments of my day-to-day life.

Then I felt loved -- and Saturday afternoon at the office was transformed.

Lest I forget

Wait wait wait

Go home? Already?

I know it seems like I'm permanently homesick. But it seems like I just got here.

Criteria

I suppose I'm being rather romantic in my approach to the question of land. Of course there are practical considerations, budget naturally foremost among them. I am horiffically debt-phobic to a fault and want to pay off the whole thing in the shortest amount of time.

I want a place within Metro Manila since I'm not wild about the thought of having to ply South Super Highway daily, and for all its development Sta. Rosa, Laguna still doesn't have the best schools. Since college, Quezon City has been pretty much where my life is -- school, choir, friends, my work at GMA -- and luckily there are still pockets of relatively affordable land in QC that would allow me to keep it that way. I always consider accessibility to public transportation, thinking back to high school when we lost our car and I had to learn how to commute (fortunately Bel-Air was in the middle of it all). And of course after Ondoy, elevation and proximity to creeks and other bodies of water has become a huge factor.

But once I actually come face to face with a lot, I begin looking for an unquantifiable "something". My inner romantic takes over and begins sniffing the air. I look for a feeling of spaciousness -- and yes I know every empty lot has a lot of space, har har har. I don't like feeling hemmed in by other houses that block out the sunshine or the breeze. To me, a lot with a tree or two is always an instant contender. (I was wild about this lot that had four fully-grown pine trees in it until I found out that it was one of the worst hit by Ondoy.) So is a lot with a slope, a view or even an odd shape simply because it's different from everyone else's.

Mostly I just think to myself, Can I live here for the rest of my life? Will I like waking up and seeing this every single day? How quickly or how much the land value will appreciate is the last thing on my mind, so thank goodness Marlon is around to think about things like that. My approach to land at this point is like how I think about paintings -- not for profiting but enjoying, not for re-selling but for living in. Maybe in the future if we become fortunate enough to have a little extra to invest, I'll start thinking that way, but right now all I really care about is building a home for our someday-family.

Besides, there's much more joy and comfort in breezes and trees and sunshine than there is in bank loans and interest rates and capital gains tax. So I'll stick to my romanticism, thanks.

Multiple choice

A) is a property that exists.

Meaning, I've seen it. We can afford it if we struggle a bit, cut out all travel for the next six months, and take out a year-long bank loan on shockingly stiff Singapore interest rates. It has supposedly bad feng shui, not that I really believe in that. It has trees right behind it, a nice open view and a slight slope. It has the all-important flood-proofness, being more than 40m above the nearest river. Living there will put us near friends and the schools we would like our children to go to. It is for living. It's just the right size, just the right price (if we didn't have to pay in cash) lovely. I can picture our house in it, although I can't picture the house.

B) is a property that does not exist.

Yet. Or it exists on paper. Or as raw farmland with no roads, no civilization, and only the glimmer of a potential value. It is a high-end development that has yet to be stamped with the official approval to break ground, by a known developer that has had its own ups and downs. It is a good deal -- or so it will be once it starts selling, because we are in a position to buy before anyone else does. It will be very high above ground, with a view. It will cost more than we intended to spend for a piece of property. Yet it is said to be an "investment." It is promising. (Actually, to me it occurs more as a promise than an actual property.) It is not quite certain to materialize -- yet. If it does, it might just be worth waiting for.

C) is none of the above.

A piece of land perfect for building a home, that might still be out there somewhere. We just haven't found it yet. Or have we?

Pencils up.

Home again

Some of the best things from this weekend's quickie visit to Manila:

• My sister's new house in Sta. Rosa, Laguna! Congratulations Ate! It has a beautiful view of Mount Makiling from the master bedroom, which my mom loves -- she grew up in Laguna where Mariang Makiling was a regular sight. The house is airy and bright, blown through by strong, cool December breezes that just filled me with Christmas kilig. It's quiet and open and seems like it's in the middle of nowhere but is actually in a self-sufficient community! I even saw Angelica Panganiban and Derek Ramsey out for a stroll at the local mall. O ha.
• Spending time with family. Luckily my sister was in town as well for a wedding. Although we just less than one full day together, it was enough for a midnight snack and chat, a long drive to Tagaytay, and lunch at Hawaiian Barbeque at the Boutique Hotel. I also fulfilled my long-stifled cravings for Pancake House's choc-chip pancakes and Razon's "minimalist" halo-halo over lunch with my mom when I arrived. Happiness!
• Wielding the power of the Singapore dollar. How lovely to shop and eat in Makati in PHP when you're earning in SGD! Suddenly my lust for Arnel Papa's jewelry didn't seem like such an extravagant fantasy (not that I bought anything, but it's nice to know it won't give Marlon a heart attack). Shopping at my new favorite store Bleach Catastrophe (na akala ko pang-Chuvaness lang) seemed like a bargain compared to shopping at Topshop. A three-course dinner for three at Greenbelt 5 is cheaper than lunch at the ubiquitous Japanese fast food chain Sakae Sushi, or my favorite comparison for an overpriced meal, NYDC. And the equivalent of my bags of Christmas tree trimmings from Landmark? Two taxi rides from my house to the office. Sigh.
• Checking into the Manila Pen! Christmas at the Pen is filled with so many happy memories with the Glee Club. (Yes, even the disastrous years can now said to be happy.) Actually, the Pen is filled with so many happy memories, period. I especially love what they've done to the restaurant where we have the breakfast buffet, now called Escolta.
• Catching up with friends. I caught up to post-rehearsals coffee with ACS after racing straight to Aui's house from the airport. I just needed that balahuric laughter! I was also grateful to Pia for braving an epic commute from Magallanes to have dinner with me and Marlon in Greenbelt. And I got to have lunch with dear, dear Tria, who blessed me with the gift of her real estate broker -- a soothing balm after meeting the broker from hell. More on which later.
• Tagaytay. Period. I will never be tired of that view, and of the carefree sense of freedom driving up there gives you. And we now live less than 30 minutes away!

Too short as always... can't wait for Christmas!

What's missing, part 2

I miss music. I miss singing, and singers. I miss Europe. I miss being a singer, being around singers, in Europe.

Yes, I realize I could be more articulate but I'm writing on the fly. It's been a packed few days. Late Sunday night and most of Monday was mental and emotional bedlam; afterwards, thankfully, I slipped into relief and reminiscence.

Whereupon I found that it is far better to be in the grip of intense nostalgia than of utter panic.

On buying art

Tonight Marlon and I went to our first art exhibit opening as potential buyers (emphasis on potential than actual buying). Since discovering the wonderful art of Yasmin Sison via Jessica Zafra's blog, I've embarked on a sort of internet scavenger hunt, unraveling a trail of paintings, artists and galleries -- clues that lead from one thing to the next until I find just what it is I'm looking for, something which I don't really know just yet.

Some clickthroughs lead to dead ends -- artists that I find too leftist or emo or simply not my type. Some have led to amazing events with surprising finds, such as a Juvenal Sanso sketch at what seems like (to my uneducated sensibilities) a bargain price. It's been a happy and fascinating path, and one that I've been traveling with Marlon by my side. I'm lucky to have a husband who loves art just as much as I do. We may not always like the same things, but he says he appreciates the difference because my taste leads him to take a second look at artists and paintings he wouldn't normally look at.

I never understood or agreed with the idea of buying art mainly as an investment. For me, you buy art to love, not to sell. And if you buy something you truly love, God forbid you have to sell it. My mom collected paintings primarily because she loved them; it broke her heart to have to sell them when business began to go bad.

A painting on your wall should bring a smile to your lips and a lightness and spaciousness to your heart, not the anxiety of "Why isn't this appreciating? When can I sell it? How much can I make off it?" For me, the only reason to buy a piece of art is because you love it, you're blown away by it, and it speaks to you; if it should ever appreciate in value over time, then it's a thrilling but unexpected bonus.

I can understand though why people take such trouble to make well-studied purchases of art; art can cost so much money, and there's so much of it around, that you want to be assured you're choosing something that is worth your hard-earned money. In that aspect, it's simply like reading movie reviews or doing research before you buy a digital camera -- an informed buy is a better buy.

Marlon and I have yet to decide on what our first purchase will be, but there are a few options. For now, I'm simply enjoying the process of discovery as it unfolds, meeting really lovely people and talented artists, and being welcomed into this beckoning new world that seems to have a soft spot for "young collectors" -- a phrase which I would like to apply to myself, but only when I'm absolutely ready.

Pamosong tsansa

While reading Cristy Fermin's not-so-blind item about Manny Pacquiao and Atenean homewrecker Krista Ranillo, I ran into one of my ultimate pet peeves.

I can't claim to be a grammar nazi when it comes to the Filipino language the way I am when it comes to English, but I hate, hate, hate it when native writers or speakers use Filipinized English words for which proper Filipino words actually exist.

Prime example: using pamoso for famous. Showbiz talk show hosts and columnists who broadcast and write entirely in the native language always pull this ugly rabbit out of the proverbial buri hat. Does pamoso actually exist in the Filipino grammar? If it does, aren't there less awkward-sounding words to convey fame? How about kilala? Tanyag? Sikat?

Another one which crops up a lot on daytime TV is tsansa (chansa), or chance. Cue the PCSO announcements and low-budget giveaway TVCs: "May tsansa kang manalo ng limpak-limpak na salapi!" I even recall this specific phrase from a TVC (but forget the brand): "Mas maraming tiket, mas maraming tsansa!" Meron ba talagang salitang tsansa? Wouldn't it be better to say pagkakataon, or even the Hispanic oportunidad?

Can you think of any others? Does this bother you too or ako lang ba ang affected masyado?

What's missing

Lately I've been really stressed out about production. My boss, who used to play the role of senior production manager, resigned over a month ago with no replacement in sight. That and an unusually large number of production projects (as opposed to purely graphics-based) have left me picking up the slack and doing most of the production work myself.

Although I realized I've learned a fair bit about production since I started this job over a year ago, there's a lot that completely escapes me, like costing and scheduling. Juggling all the nitty gritty grunt work of production with my creative responsibilities has left me stressed and anxious. I'm antsy for someone to come over and take the lead; while I've professed my eagerness to learn the ropes, I don't want to be (and I don't think I am equipped to handle) being the sole responsibility for production.

There have been many, many times these past months that I wished I could drop the "/producer" half of my job title and go back to being "just" a writer. Especially during times when an important creative proposal deserves attention and I am bound to spend half the day ringing up all the car rental services in Singapore until I find a red convertible Mini Cooper for a shoot at the end of the week.

Mostly I have been feeling that I haven't been writing as much as I'd like, or giving my writing (when I am called upon to write) the time and effort that it requires.

So yesterday I finally gave in to the urge to write. I picked up an old book that used to belong to my mom, called The Right to Write by Julia Cameron, where I remembered seeing writing exercises and prompts. The first exercise was simply called, Begin. And the result of that exercise was what I posted last night.

For the past few months I've been feeling that writing was missing from my work. And just last night, I realized that I don't have to rely on work to supply what's missing from work.

That's what life is for. :)

At home

I am at home with my husband, on an uncharacteristically chilly night. It was sunny all day, the only spot of sunshine in two straight weeks of rain, chill and gloom. I was half-expecting the anvil to drop, in the form of a thunderclap or a sudden burst of clouds. And at half-past six, it did.

That sudden, thunderous downpour of rain rang in my head like the dismissal bell on a school day. I quit my work and immediately dropped my good intention of going to muay thai. I rang up my husband and five minutes later, I was in a cab picking him up from the covered walkway at the Somerset station. We cuddled all the way home. Rain pouring down the windows and a certain nip in the air can do that to you.

And now I’m sitting at the dining table in a pair of velour pajamas, with a hot thick mug of Swiss Miss Dark Chocolate beside me. In front of me are the dining room windows, where I can see a reflection of the paper lamp in the living room. Behind the soft yellow glow of the lamp, the shadowy curve of Marlon’s head as he reads a comic book on the day bed. One of the things I love about us is how we can just share space, each doing his or her own thing, not talking to each other or not even in the same room, yet still be completely together.

I prepared a cup of tea for him, a blend of green tea and mint tea in a rather precious hand-sewn, loosely-woven cotton tea bag that I filched from the hotel room at the Fullerton Hotel, where we celebrated my birthday weekend three weeks ago. I added a dollop of honey at his request, and put the mug in his hands with a kiss. Such are the little pleasures of being a wife.

The cat is padding around in the shadows of a room whose door has been left ajar. She does so in silence, which I’ve come to equate with contentment. Now and then the tiny silver bell on her collar tinkles as she moves her head in little bursts of curiosity or restlessness, but on the whole she is quiet and satisfied to have us home, be well fed and to have had her early evening dose of affection.

There is nothing to think about tonight but how to while away the time until eleven or son, when we finally turn in for the night. The choice is a lazily decadent one – do I write or draw or watch television or read one of my many books that are waiting to be read? The luxury of free time is one that I enjoy so much more because of the number of interests I have, although it does get raucous in my head when all of my interests simultaneously yammer and complain that they are starved for attention.

Tonight I choose to write. Write purely for myself, with no deadlines except the very end of this blank page. Write purely for fun, not to convince or sell or illustrate or anything like that. If I am writing to convince anyone, it is myself – to prove to myself that I can still fill an entire page purely for the pleasure of it, that I still have “it”, whatever “it” is.

And it is a good choice. Even better, I think, than deciding to leave work the very moment the rain first began to fall.

Ignorance is bliss

after the casting and creative chaos of last week, i started this week with an uncharacteristically quiet monday. no client emails, no boss emails, nobody chasing me for everything. i even had time to plan my next production (a repeat of a sleazy, skanky project i did early this year) and think about what to do better, having learned from the last time.

and the reason for this blessed quietness? the central email server in london was down. and london being six hours behind us, their IT guy couldn't even get started on the problem until our local workday ended.

ah, peace and quiet. sometimes you gotta love technology.

The clock is ticking

marlon's colleague paula is this spunky, hilarious colombian woman who was married for ten years before she and her husband decided to have kids. she was swimming along happily, childless and carefree, until one day she turned thirty and "boom!" as she puts it, "it was like an time bomb went off and i suddenly HAD to have a baby. i just HAD to."

last i checked, nothing in me has gone ka-BLAM quite yet, but i do feel the clock ticking. marlon and i have been talking about having a baby for a while now. as i write this i feel like i've just slipped into a crack in the twilight zone. me? a mother? kids? am i really saying this? aren't i really just sixteen years old? where did the time go and what happened to me?

(oh, in case this post seems totally out of the blue, i was actually thinking of blogging about work but i realized work is the last thing that i need to be dwelling on at the end of a long day.)

but seriously, i find that almost in spite of myself, yes i do want to have a baby soon. suddenly i find that the two-year post-wedding moratorium marlon and i agreed upon is up, and along with buying property back home and moving somewhere other than singapore, that's the next big thing that i'm really, really looking forward to. in fact, one of the reasons that inspired me to begin losing weight is to make it to an ideal bmi for pregnancy, which is, oh, about 30 lbs away.

how soon is soon? maybe late next year or early 2011. the only things that are really pushing back the date are the lure of travel and the fat little bundle of cash (well, not so little) that we will need to give little marlon/little deepa an easy entry into the world -- and hopefully a nice head start in life.

my ultimate baby fantasy is to have fraternal twins like atasha and andres muhlach, or, sige na nga vivienne and knox jolie-pitt para mas sosyal, para isahang labas lang, one of each na. marlon always jokes about the six boys (!!!!!!!) we will have, but i sure hope it's just a joke and not his ultimate baby fantasy.

tick-tock, tick-tock...

At eto pa pala...

isa pang dahilan kung bakit hindi pa ako umaalis sa trabaho.

hindi pa namin nakikita, may iilan kaming pinagpipilian at hindi pa kami sigurado, pero balak na namin sa taong ito.

Muni-muni sa trabaho

naloloka ako sa opisina lately. maraming pagbabago, maraming pangako at marami ring trabaho. minsan naiisip ko maghanap ng bagong pagtatrabahuhan na mas masaya, mas madali para sa akin at puro pagsusulat lang, tulad ng ginagawa ko dati. unang-una, mas madali sa akin ang pagsusulat. pangalawa, mahal ko talaga ang pagsusulat at gusto ko pang bumuti at gumaling dito.

pero nandito pa rin ako, kinakaya ko hanggang saan ko kaya. ayokong sumuko para lang mapatunayan sa sarili ko na kaya ko, na hindi ako yung tipong taong madaling bumigay. gusto kong patunayan na hindi ako "manunulat lang", kahit minsan gusto kong sumigaw ng "manunulat lang ako!" tinitingnan ko ang idolo ko sa trabaho -- ang aking bosing na nagmula sa bansa nina vanness wu at jerry yan, LOL -- at namamangha ako dahil ang kinakaya niya, di hamak na mas mabigat, mas marami at mas komplikado sa kinakaya ko.

binubulong ko sa sarili ko na kung kaya niya, kaya ko rin. pero minsan pinagdududahan ko kung totoo nga ang mga aking bulong-bulong sa sarili. siguro kailangan ko nang lakasan, baka bingi na ang loob ko sa mga bulong at sigaw na ang kailangan nitong marinig.

at nandito pa rin ako dahil alam ko na hindi ako dapat magpadala sa bugso ng damdamin. ang damdamin, lulu-lili diba? lulubog, lilitaw, ika nga ng philippine choral community. at hindi sapat na basehan para sa pagpasya. kung ang buhay ay parang gulong kung saan minsan nasa baba ka, minsan nasa itaas, araw-araw na yata ang pag-ikot ng gulong pagdating sa trabaho. at hindi makabubuti sa aking gumalaw at magpasya sa mga sandaling nasa ilalim ako.

pero minsan naiisip ko... kasalanan ba maghangad ng trabaho na kung saan masaya ako, suportado ng maraming katrabaho at huhumusay sa bagay na mahal na mahal kong gawin?

28

i turned 28 last monday! and here are 28 things i loved about my birthday!

1. checking into the fullerton hotel with marlon on saturday. finally, all the clues revealed! (mad props to cris for figuring out the photo!)

2. the super duper high bed in our courtyard room. i want one now!

3. the high ceilings in the room!

4. the view of the river from town, the fullerton's main restaurant. with the pretty white trellises twined with bougainvillea, it just felt so colonial and fresh and precious! hahaha. it was nice to finally be on the other side of the river and seeing the view.

5. just lazing around with a copy of eldest, the second book in the inheritance trilogy. i had been hankering for a long stretch of time to just burn through the book and i finally got it!

6. getting to wear my hot pink maison martin margiela sandal boots! i got them at the barney's warehouse sale in new york and have only worn them once. these shoes make me feel like a million bucks!

7. the beautiful fullerton all lit up in the evening!

8. just having the esplanade across the road :)

9. a surprising sight from home... an ifugao dance at the esplanade lobby! it turned out to be a dance troupe from a university in tarlac, flown in for the singapore dance festival.

10. fantastic orchestra seats to dunas, a performance by flamenca maria pages and contemporary dance artist sidi larbi cherkaoui, to music by composer szymon brzoska. again, care of my hubby!

11. MARIA PAGES. OMG. the goddess of flamenco. powerful, regal, passionate and completely committed. there were really no words to describe her dancing. i must have cried at least 3 or 4 times during the performance. i really had no idea i could be moved to such an extent by a dancer.

11. SIDI LARBI CHERKAOUI. beautiful, inventive, honest and just so totally free. this artist can do amazing things with staging and production, surpassed only by the things he can do with his body. one of the most jaw-dropping parts of the dance was when he literally became like flowing sand dunes, rippling and tumbling and shifting all over the desert. yung tipong sinabihan siya ng "okay. you are sand. blow around the desert. go." then he just goes "okay!" and completely transforms.

12. the music of dunas, by szymon brzoska and ruben labaniegos. a combination of western music, moroccan and arabic motifs, and flamenco... even with some early music thrown in for good measure. the perfect complement to a stunning performance. please if you ever find yourself in a city where dunas is showing, watch it.

13. the post-show dialogue with the artists, describing their journey and their creation. i loved seeing maria's personality in particular, since she can just seem so godlike and imposing when she dances. she was completely endeared to me when she described how one part of the dance was conceptualized. she clapped her hands together gleefully and cried, "i want to be a tree! can i be a tree?"

14. two words. chocolate. buffet.

15. after all that sweetness, we suddenly craved for salt. so although we agreed to forego dinner, we ordered up a big plate of fries from room service and spent the last few hours of saturday reading in bed and satisfying the munchies. mmm.

16. waking up to my wonderful hubby. :)

17. spending pretty much all of sunday at the poolside like a pair of old white rich folks, baking in the sun in lounge chairs, reading and snacking on bar food.

18. speaking of ang moh tourists, there was an old white-haired french couple i loved sneaking peeks at. when she thought no one was looking, the old lady would pinch her husband's butt. hahaha. sana maging ganun kami ni marlon.

19. speaking of marlon. his company all weekend was the cherry on my sundae, the icing on my birthday cake. :) more than once, he remarked, "i feel like it's my birthday!"

20. buffet dinner at town. did we really need another buffet? not really. it was yummy though.

21. birthday breakfast at town on monday morning, my actual birthday! where marlon presented me with my birthday presents...

22. my new braun hair iron! bad hair days begone!

23. my new set of bobbi brown makeup brushes! this will stanch my craving for makeup classes for at least a few months. good thing there's youtube!

24. mostly skiving work on my birthday. hehe.

25. the sumptuous dark chocolate opera cake the office got me for my birthday. there are so few people in the office now that everyone got to have a nice big slice and i still got to bring a full third of the cake home!

26. a tiny slice of birthday cake every day! not good for my waistline but it has certainly made me feel like the whole week was my birthday!

27. opening facebook to a flood of greetings on my wall!

28. feeling loved and happy all week! i couldn't have asked for a better way to turn another year older!