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!