Wednesday, November 25
What's missing, part 2
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.
Friday, November 20
On buying art
Thursday, November 19
Pamosong tsansa
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?
Wednesday, November 18
What's missing
Tuesday, November 17
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.
Monday, November 16
Ignorance is bliss
Thursday, November 12
The clock is ticking
Wednesday, November 11
At eto pa pala...
Muni-muni sa trabaho
Sunday, November 1
28
Tuesday, October 20
Temporary insanity

Friday, October 16
Mystery solved!

Tuesday, October 13
Paper pretties
Sunday, October 11
Wanted
and there was a gleefully cryptic, delightfully cheesy message on the back.
Back to the drawing board
Salpicao Saturday!
a sumptuous sign of good things to come was the juicy, beautifully marbled cut of australian tenderloin we found at the new, fancy-shmancy grocery on the fourth floor of ion orchard. when i say fancy, i mean fancy -- they had shelves dedicated to imports from dean & deluca, fauchon and hediard!
now marlon is the carnivore in this family (meat just grosses me out), but i had a months-long craving for salpicao that was tearing at me to be fulfilled. and with the nearest dulcinea a plane ride away, i was actually desperate enough to learn how to cook the damned dish myself. so armed with a shockingly easy recipe from market manila, i did!
sitting down to our salpicao lunch, marlon kept thanking me for craving for salpicao so obsessively (beef rarely makes an appearance in our weekly grocery list). i was astounded at how something i cooked turned out so perfectly! my kapraningan usually drives me to keep to recipes with military discipline, but not so with this salpicao. it was my first time to cook completely by feel... no teaspoons, measuring cups, nothing! my kitchen confidence skyrocketed with every bite.
salt-and-garlic cravings satisfied and carnivorous husband happily stuffed, i finally sat down to do the ultra-babaw, mindlessly kikay things i had been itching to do for weeks.
Tuesday, October 6
Clues blues
Monday, October 5
Moving on
Monday, September 28
Oh, Ondoy
before i left for f1 rocks at 4 pm, i wondered briefly whether i should call mom and find out if she was ok. mandaluyong is notorious for flooding, particularly near city hall. we used to live a street away from city hall, the lowest point in town, and moved out right after suffering through a single rainy season with waist-deep floods. i brushed off the thought, thinking that the area we live in now has never flooded, ever.
at 2am, after the (incidentally, phenomenal) BEP and beyonce shows, i was cooling down with a late dinner and cold drinks with marlon at chijmes when i received a text from my sister. our house was flooded up to sink (thigh) level, the entire sala was afloat, and the ref was submerged.
TOTAL SHOCK. that meant three women (my mom, tita raquel and our maid rosiele) and FIVE dogs were all upstairs. thoughts whirled in my head (was the roof dripping as well? did they have food and water? would all the sockets downstairs get wrecked? did they manage to bring up any of the electronics?) as i realized there was nothing i could do but call the next morning. the only consolation i could think of was that my sister had sold the car after we moved abroad, otherwise it would have been heartbreaking to see it wrecked in the flood
the morning after
i called mom on sunday morning. i knew she would be okay, maybe stressed out and tired at most, but i had to talk to her just to be sure. i caught her just as the flood waters had subsided and she was surveying the extent of the damage. she told me how difficult it was to try and save as much as they could, just her and the maid. other houses in the compound have men in the house and more people in the household, so they got more things done. "hindi na ako nagpatulong," she said. "pag ganyan, talagang kanya-kanya na."
still, i could hear the relief in her voice when she told me that our house was still one of the cleanest and least damaged in the compound. some of the neighbors had to abandon their houses. floods were higher in the lower-situated houses. their cars were damaged. the marketplace nearby had chest-deep floods.
because she's moving out of the house in october, mom had books, clothes and other things packed in boxes and stored on the first floor. all the boxes melted away, leaving our things in a soggy and dirty mess. my heart sank thinking about how much effort mom put into packing; now she has to do everything all over again.
still, i'm just thankful she's ok.
heartbreaking, heartening
watching the videos and seeing the pictures posted on facebook, youtube and twitter has left me with a mixed bag of emotions.
i am proud to see the strength of fortunate filipinos who are pulling together to organize rescue and relief operations. i saw so many people who felt it was unacceptable to just watch the typhoon take its toll. people literally could not rest until they found a way to help.
i am incensed at the ineptitude of the government. the strength, responsiveness, compassion and capability of the private sector only highlights their selfishness and irresponsibility. if public funds were properly channeled and used, would our city crumble so easily? would we have been better equipped to rescue people?
i am hoping against hope. will something good come out of this? will we -- both the people and the government -- learn something this time around? will we take action to make sure this never happens again? i can only think of the numerous dikes and clearly marked escape routes i saw in phuket post-tsunami, and hope someone, anyone, comes up with a plan for the future.
i am heartbroken by so many images. the gleaming white walls of a friend's newly finished dream home, turned to mud. her shiny new grand piano sinking into brown waters. a dog found drowned in a cage. smashed cars piled up on top of each other in ways i didn't even think possible. i don't even want to think about the dead bodies captured by cameramen roving cainta and marikina.
i am amazed by the humor and resilience of filipinos, who can smile, laugh and joke while neck-deep in water.
i am suddenly uncertain about my future, our future in manila. we had planned to finally put down the first payment for a lot in a friend's subdivision this december. we were even thinking of paying for the lot in full after getting our christmas bonuses. but after seeing photos of all the houses in the area submerged up to the first floor, now we are not so sure.
i am thankful my family is alright, and that we have extra cash to send mom for repairs and things that need to be replaced. we even have a little left over to send to the red cross -- just because my family isn't the only one that's been affected.
i am afraid for the storm that is supposed to hit manila this wednesday and thursday. i want my mom to check into a hotel, but she doesn't want to leave the dogs.
i am praying. still.
