After a week of waiting with bated breath, the doctors confirmed it.
My aunt was diagnosed with breast cancer.
I had prepared myself for such a diagnosis, and I prayed and prayed to all the saints in the Baclaran Redemptorist Church, please, please, don't let it be positive. Still, I was more distubed than I actually expected myself to be.
We are a family of strong women. In our family, it really is all about the women. My siblings and I have never really had a strong male influence. As with all my close female relatives, I had a complicated relationship with my aunt (*sigh* how come all my relationships are complicated?) She was my cheerleader. She believed in me when I didn't. At the other side of the coin, she can be a slave driver, she pushed me to places where I'm not sure I wanted to be. Especially when I was younger, I hated the fact that she was able to influence some of my decisions though she's in the US. She's Ms. Quid pro quo. She was my version of a stage mother. Before finding myself, I doubted for a time that my internal voice was actually a personalised mversion of her voice.
I'm not sure why I'm this upset. Why her? There are sick bastards running around the world, killing people, exploiting the environment. They deserve it. They deserve this. Not her. We don't have a history of cancer in our family. She is the first, actually. She has no major vice. Perhaps, some social drinking and smoking in her youth. Okay, she's 51 and menopausal, so her hormones are going awry. but that's it. Maybe this is her constantly sleep-deprived body's way of protest. We have always admired my aunt's ability to stay up in the most dire pa-morningan situations. But this is some vengeance!
I may be a small voice, but to every woman who reads this: Please get a pap smear regularly (I hate it but I do), Please do regular breast-checks (I hate it but I've done so since I had my period). Get tested for sexually-transmitted diseases (haha...I've tried several times to do this but I couldn't bring myself to do it. I'm too afraid to get this one.)
The problem with my life is, it's never boring.
Thursday, October 28, 2004
Thursday, October 21, 2004
The Name is Bond...
...the girl band Bond, that is.
I've wanted to see the string quartet Bond in concert ever since I learned that they will be performing live in Manila. After months of teasing, I never thought that Major Silver, my boss' aide de camp, would actually make good on my cajoling and give me a ticket to see them live. I am not particularly fond of classical music, since I usually listen to classical music when I am in elevators, watching impossibly tall and white models make pouty faces on watch and liquor ads on TV, or when I watch old Loony Toons cartoons.
But there is the case of their beautiful English-Korean cellist, Gay-Yee. I had a crush on her. Looking at her sure beats looking at Yo-yo Ma (no offense to his fans).
Looking at Maj. Silver, you would never figure him out as a Bond fan. Surprisingly, I learned months before that he has all their albums, videos. Die hard, baby. He's this gruff military dude who I discovered last night was actually a soft romantic at heart, and surprisingly given the reputations of men in the service, undyingly faithful to his wife, who is working in Taiwan.
He bought the tickets just as the ticket counter was closing, and of course, I was pleasantly surprised when he sent me a text message to meet him at the venue.
There were a disproportionate number of young men apparently into classical music, or so it seems as I observed the concert-goers.
I have always thought the violin, especially the cello, was a very sensual instrument. As the hidden romantic in Maj. Silver revealed himself to me, I realized why he was so attracted to Bond. Well, there was also of course his huge crush on Haylie, on first violin. He bought the P500 cd/vcd set being sold and was exeptionally stiff during the concert. He even called his wife on his cellphone before the concert. In a conspiratorial tone, he admitted that he told his wife that he was going to the concert alone. Heh. I guess I had extraordinary persuasive powers, then. I made a point to tell him during my relentless campaign to see them in concert that it was my birthday, and he HAD to take me to watch Bond :p. It is no bother, anyway, since we saw the concert as friends.
The girls came out in cotton-candy tutu skirts and sleeveless tank tops. MY GAWD GAY-YEE WAS HOOOOT! Haylie was her usual sun-shiney presence. Tania was a bit bloated, probably still trying to shed off post-pregnancy pounds. Eos just glowed, with her very shiny blond hair.
They played the usual repertoire of classical songs, you know, the ones you frequently hear on the aforementioned cartoons and watch ads but don't know the names to except to say "theme from the Lone Ranger" and "Theme from the Night before Christmas." Unusual was the somewhat different arrangement, and their great back-up rock band, who really punked up the staid classical collections.
They even played a couple of disco numbers--on violin! It was great! This was what music is really about--to make you dance, to make you cry, to make you laugh, to make you recall. I may not have known the titles to the songs, but I knew what the music made me feel. It made me feel that I was the figurehead of a mighty ship, crusing on calm waters in sunny weather. The next song made me feel what it was like to wake up next to my beloved on an easy Sunday morning.
Their unusual selection of songs were also a riot! They played on acoustic strings the theme song of the movie Psycho--brilliant!
Of course they played their hits Shine and Victory at the last part. By this time Gay-Yee was wild! Despite her instrument, the biggest and most cumbersome in relation to her Bondmates (pardon the pun), she was shaking her bon-bon in a very delightful way! Jumping around, she played up to the audience, readily posing for their camera-phones, vamping it up to the old gentlemen in front. Of course when they played Victory I just had to stand up and dance along! My hands were sore because of clapping by the end of the night. They even returned for an encore with more disco!
This was not just a concert. It was an experience! Haylie, who adressed the audience at the beggining of the show, was right. Thank you, Bond, for allowing your music to "transport [me] to a strange, exotic paradise. "
I've wanted to see the string quartet Bond in concert ever since I learned that they will be performing live in Manila. After months of teasing, I never thought that Major Silver, my boss' aide de camp, would actually make good on my cajoling and give me a ticket to see them live. I am not particularly fond of classical music, since I usually listen to classical music when I am in elevators, watching impossibly tall and white models make pouty faces on watch and liquor ads on TV, or when I watch old Loony Toons cartoons.
But there is the case of their beautiful English-Korean cellist, Gay-Yee. I had a crush on her. Looking at her sure beats looking at Yo-yo Ma (no offense to his fans).
Looking at Maj. Silver, you would never figure him out as a Bond fan. Surprisingly, I learned months before that he has all their albums, videos. Die hard, baby. He's this gruff military dude who I discovered last night was actually a soft romantic at heart, and surprisingly given the reputations of men in the service, undyingly faithful to his wife, who is working in Taiwan.
He bought the tickets just as the ticket counter was closing, and of course, I was pleasantly surprised when he sent me a text message to meet him at the venue.
There were a disproportionate number of young men apparently into classical music, or so it seems as I observed the concert-goers.
I have always thought the violin, especially the cello, was a very sensual instrument. As the hidden romantic in Maj. Silver revealed himself to me, I realized why he was so attracted to Bond. Well, there was also of course his huge crush on Haylie, on first violin. He bought the P500 cd/vcd set being sold and was exeptionally stiff during the concert. He even called his wife on his cellphone before the concert. In a conspiratorial tone, he admitted that he told his wife that he was going to the concert alone. Heh. I guess I had extraordinary persuasive powers, then. I made a point to tell him during my relentless campaign to see them in concert that it was my birthday, and he HAD to take me to watch Bond :p. It is no bother, anyway, since we saw the concert as friends.
The girls came out in cotton-candy tutu skirts and sleeveless tank tops. MY GAWD GAY-YEE WAS HOOOOT! Haylie was her usual sun-shiney presence. Tania was a bit bloated, probably still trying to shed off post-pregnancy pounds. Eos just glowed, with her very shiny blond hair.
They played the usual repertoire of classical songs, you know, the ones you frequently hear on the aforementioned cartoons and watch ads but don't know the names to except to say "theme from the Lone Ranger" and "Theme from the Night before Christmas." Unusual was the somewhat different arrangement, and their great back-up rock band, who really punked up the staid classical collections.
They even played a couple of disco numbers--on violin! It was great! This was what music is really about--to make you dance, to make you cry, to make you laugh, to make you recall. I may not have known the titles to the songs, but I knew what the music made me feel. It made me feel that I was the figurehead of a mighty ship, crusing on calm waters in sunny weather. The next song made me feel what it was like to wake up next to my beloved on an easy Sunday morning.
Their unusual selection of songs were also a riot! They played on acoustic strings the theme song of the movie Psycho--brilliant!
Of course they played their hits Shine and Victory at the last part. By this time Gay-Yee was wild! Despite her instrument, the biggest and most cumbersome in relation to her Bondmates (pardon the pun), she was shaking her bon-bon in a very delightful way! Jumping around, she played up to the audience, readily posing for their camera-phones, vamping it up to the old gentlemen in front. Of course when they played Victory I just had to stand up and dance along! My hands were sore because of clapping by the end of the night. They even returned for an encore with more disco!
This was not just a concert. It was an experience! Haylie, who adressed the audience at the beggining of the show, was right. Thank you, Bond, for allowing your music to "transport [me] to a strange, exotic paradise. "
Tuesday, October 19, 2004
On turning 25
What's up by the 4 non-blondes
25 years of my life and still
I'm trying to get up that great big hill of hope
For a destination
I realized quickly when I knew I should
That the world was made up of this Brotherhood of man
For whatever that means
So I cry somethimes when I'm lying in bed
To get it all out what's in my head
Then I start feeling a little peculiar
So I wake in the morning and I step Outside
I take deep breathI get real high
Then I scream from the top of my lungs
'What's goin' on?'
And I say hey...And I say hey what's goin' on
And I say hey...I said hey what's goin' on
And I try, oh my God do I tryI try all the time
In this institution
And I pray, oh my God do I pray
I pray every single day For a revolution
So I cry sometimes when I'm lying in my bed
To get it all out what's in my head
Then I start feeling a little peculiar
So I wake in the morning and I step outside
I take a deep breath then I get real high
Then I scream from the top of my lungs"What's goin' on?"
And I say hey...And I say hey what's goin' on
And I say hey...I said hey what's goin' on
And I say hey...And I say hey what's goin' on
And I say hey...I said hey what's goin' on
25 years of my life and stillI'm trying to get up that great big hill of hope
For a destination
Monday, October 18, 2004
WE ARE THE GEEKS
I think I was a born geek. I learned to read at age 3. English is my first language.
I cannot recall a time I was never a geek. Strange things have always fascinated me, sometimes to the point of mania. My life has revolved from one geeky, semi-socially acceptable interest to another. When I was eight, I was ENAMORED over the animated "The Real Ghostbusters", collecting stickers, stationery. I would religiously watch episodes on Channel 2 every Friday night, listing down the names of the ghosts they busted in my little notebook. In high school, I was hooked on the X-Files after watching episode 3--"Squeeze"--which featured a liver-eating immortal man. I wrote letters to the stars, joined fan clubs, squealed at TV shows, bought magazines. you name it. My obsession lasted two years, then petered out when the storyline got too confusing. After a very bad break-up with an ex, I distracted myself from heartache by indulging in Anime. 24- hour anime watching marathons, blowing a month's pay on new pirated discs of the latest Japanese anime, cosplaying...
Alas, people aren't kind to geeks like me. I was constantly ridiculed in grade school and high school because I was never interested in the things that my classmates liked. Called names, made fun of...I cannot recall the number of years I've spent eating my recess snacks alone, dismissed and lumped together, named in the same breath with the class weirdo; a pale, thin girl who talked to plants. To make matters worse, my sister was immensely popular. Class cheerleader, Crush ng Bayan, pretty and poised. In other words, my exact opposite.
In college I "found myself." More precisely, I discovered that I was no pushover. I was not weird. I was not the butt of jokes. In fact, I found out that I was pretty cool. And pretty hot, too. Geeks of the World, I daresay that I discovered that the GEEKS RULE THE WORLD. We are the Arbiters of Cool. We declare what is in, what is hip. what is cool.
Who first mourned the death of Superman before people started wearing "Death of Superman" logo-ed T-shirts that sprouted everywhere? The Comic book geeks did. Who eagerly anticipated "Meteor Garden," the live-action version of the anime "Hana Yori Dango" before the rest of the Philippines caught on? The Anime otakus. Who were the first people who distributed pirated versions of "The Ring" to the underground scene before the Americans bastardized the damn movie? The movie geeks.
We are ostracized because people fear the unknown. We are so fucking cool that we are ahead of our time. Play with your Heroclix, prance in your costumes, worship Stan Lee. To all closet geeks or geeks in denial, I say, damn convention. Stand tall, stand proud. We are the the mighty, the few. WE ARE THE GEEKS.
I cannot recall a time I was never a geek. Strange things have always fascinated me, sometimes to the point of mania. My life has revolved from one geeky, semi-socially acceptable interest to another. When I was eight, I was ENAMORED over the animated "The Real Ghostbusters", collecting stickers, stationery. I would religiously watch episodes on Channel 2 every Friday night, listing down the names of the ghosts they busted in my little notebook. In high school, I was hooked on the X-Files after watching episode 3--"Squeeze"--which featured a liver-eating immortal man. I wrote letters to the stars, joined fan clubs, squealed at TV shows, bought magazines. you name it. My obsession lasted two years, then petered out when the storyline got too confusing. After a very bad break-up with an ex, I distracted myself from heartache by indulging in Anime. 24- hour anime watching marathons, blowing a month's pay on new pirated discs of the latest Japanese anime, cosplaying...
Alas, people aren't kind to geeks like me. I was constantly ridiculed in grade school and high school because I was never interested in the things that my classmates liked. Called names, made fun of...I cannot recall the number of years I've spent eating my recess snacks alone, dismissed and lumped together, named in the same breath with the class weirdo; a pale, thin girl who talked to plants. To make matters worse, my sister was immensely popular. Class cheerleader, Crush ng Bayan, pretty and poised. In other words, my exact opposite.
In college I "found myself." More precisely, I discovered that I was no pushover. I was not weird. I was not the butt of jokes. In fact, I found out that I was pretty cool. And pretty hot, too. Geeks of the World, I daresay that I discovered that the GEEKS RULE THE WORLD. We are the Arbiters of Cool. We declare what is in, what is hip. what is cool.
Who first mourned the death of Superman before people started wearing "Death of Superman" logo-ed T-shirts that sprouted everywhere? The Comic book geeks did. Who eagerly anticipated "Meteor Garden," the live-action version of the anime "Hana Yori Dango" before the rest of the Philippines caught on? The Anime otakus. Who were the first people who distributed pirated versions of "The Ring" to the underground scene before the Americans bastardized the damn movie? The movie geeks.
We are ostracized because people fear the unknown. We are so fucking cool that we are ahead of our time. Play with your Heroclix, prance in your costumes, worship Stan Lee. To all closet geeks or geeks in denial, I say, damn convention. Stand tall, stand proud. We are the the mighty, the few. WE ARE THE GEEKS.
Friday, October 08, 2004
Level Up
The great thing about working for a politician is that you get free invites to openings and cocktails. Last Wednesday I went to the 92nd anniversary of the Manila Hotel. Yesterday, despite dodgy relations with China, Taiwan and the Philippine creme dela creme (and I)celebrated its 93rd National Day in Shangri-La Makati.
Why do I love them parties?
1) I get to doll myself up and wear all my pretty cocktail dresses
2) I get to eat 5-star restaurant food for free
3) Who knows? I may land myself a rich husband in these shindigs!
4)It makes me more socially significant than I actually am.
Women usually want fame, money, security. I want power. The power over my own destiny and the power to be able to influence other people on a massive scale. People usually think that ambition for power is a masculine desire. However, I've always considered myself a masculine woman. I don't want to be a politician. Too big a headache, too much trouble than its actually worth. My friend says that I have delusions of grandeur. I protested at first. But upon introspection, he's right.
I am admittedly a social climber. There is no shame in that. Depite tacky associations of trying-hard people trying to finagle their way into high society, I would say that social climbing is only shameful if you don't do anything to work for it. Why should people be ashamed of trying to better themselves, making something out of their lives? Where else do you expect me to go people? If I am to be mobile, I'd rather be upwardly mobile than stagnate or go down. There are only two directions in life. Forward and backward. How would you rather grow? It's part of my quest to be the biggest and best version of myself I could possibly be.
RULE OF THUMB: If you are to social-climb, do it with finesse! Be classy people, and don't push yourself too much into a crowd that doesn't want you. You're better off without them
anyway.
Why do I love them parties?
1) I get to doll myself up and wear all my pretty cocktail dresses
2) I get to eat 5-star restaurant food for free
3) Who knows? I may land myself a rich husband in these shindigs!
4)It makes me more socially significant than I actually am.
Women usually want fame, money, security. I want power. The power over my own destiny and the power to be able to influence other people on a massive scale. People usually think that ambition for power is a masculine desire. However, I've always considered myself a masculine woman. I don't want to be a politician. Too big a headache, too much trouble than its actually worth. My friend says that I have delusions of grandeur. I protested at first. But upon introspection, he's right.
I am admittedly a social climber. There is no shame in that. Depite tacky associations of trying-hard people trying to finagle their way into high society, I would say that social climbing is only shameful if you don't do anything to work for it. Why should people be ashamed of trying to better themselves, making something out of their lives? Where else do you expect me to go people? If I am to be mobile, I'd rather be upwardly mobile than stagnate or go down. There are only two directions in life. Forward and backward. How would you rather grow? It's part of my quest to be the biggest and best version of myself I could possibly be.
RULE OF THUMB: If you are to social-climb, do it with finesse! Be classy people, and don't push yourself too much into a crowd that doesn't want you. You're better off without them
anyway.
* * *
I have noticed that people usually fall in love with their projection of the person they love rather than the person that they are. I feel that this is a bit too unrealistic. What if the person won't change the way you want? People are too unpredictable, that I know. We can't be contained into statistics and figures. No matter how hard you try to manipulate outcomes, planning can only go so far. Depending on the falliability of the person to determine outcomes is mostly a hit or miss affair. I belong to the school of riding things out and work with what comes out of the situation.
What if the person never matures? Or matures in a way where you are no longer necessary? Needs to grow without your benefit? What if the person never gets that job, changes for the better, stops drinking, stops slapping you around?
My lastest relationships have been with men younger than me. I found out that no matter how hard you try to be patient with them, they will have to grow up by themselves, without you. Without your guidance. I think it's too presumptuous and pompous to think that you can actually influence a person who doesn't seek your help. You can merely be a guide, be there when they need you. I could never push myself into a situation wherein they did not seek my help.
Try to love for who they are, rather than what they can become.
* * *
My office mate told me that I remind her of Milla Jovovich. It must be the lean and scruffy look.
Saturday, October 02, 2004
Looking Back...Looking Forward
I have to get this out of the way first...I had a good hair day today! I am soo happy! I was thinking of getting a haircut, then today I had a good hair day, which let me see all the possibilities that my hair can achieve! It looks like Sharon Cuneta's hairdo during her PS I Love You days.
I was scanning my Friendster account and I had the itch to check out my ex's file. C'mon people, who hasn't done it? Friendster has been so convenient in tracking down old connections, you might as well try to sneak in a peek at what your old flame has been up to. But instead of looking at his account, I decided to check his current girlfriend's account. And what I saw made me disappointed in myself. When we broke up, I led myself to believe *mark my words you dickhead* that he will never have it as good as me. It seems that he has found better. I felt good for him in a way but surprisingly bad at myself. Seems that girlie here is a little more academically accomplished than me, though I am prettier (ha!) It's like being in a locker room where girls compare body attributes...except the girl doesn't know that I'm measuring myself against her.
A post-shopping/merienda conference with two of my favorite friends helped me decipher this weird human compulsion. Girlfriend attributed it to the fact where you want to see that you have actually done better than your ex. Smug at your superiority, we bask in the fact that we are "better than the Joneses."
"But what happens when you find out that he actually has traded up...better than you?"
Boyfriend: "Then you go, 'What did she see in that loser?'"
Ahhh...sourgraping. The favorite hobby of the bitter. But I vowed never to return to being rancid.
I know it's bad to compare, whether you're on top or on the bottom rung. We're two different people. If there's anything I've learned living with my sister, comparing two people is like comparing apples and oranges. Well, I'm definitely over him. I guess I've learned my lesson: Never look at an ex's account ever again, even to snoop! It opens old wounds.
Seeing two of my friends attached to the unlikeliest men has got me thinking...Maybe I should consider dating a guy less attractive than I am. I've always had a weak spot for good-looking men, and it seems to have gotten me nowhere. Like other women who have decided to "settle," they probably have found out that guys who are not very attractive aren't too distracted by their ego to lose focus in the relationship. It may be that I haven't found the right guy, but could it be possible that I may be raising the bar too high? That I am actually discounting a lot of great but not very cute men out there? That I am a shallow betch (hi Chona!)? That they know something that I have't realized yet? That they're ahead of the game than I am? These guys may not be my type...
I attended the Toastmasters International-Luzon conference today and this guy who I've known for sometime was totally flirting with me. Some of my fellow Toastmasters thought that we were an item. I just went along with the game. I'm not sure if he wants a relationship or some ass, but it kinda got me thinking...
...Sure he ain't hot.
...but hooking up with him isn't unfeasible.
We have a lot in common...i like him, though not really that way...
...and the thought of sleeping with him doesn't repulse me...
hmmm...
We'll see what happens on Sunday. He sent me a text message tonight, saying that he wished he booked a room at the hotel where the convention was held so we could've "talked all night." Yeah, right.
Oh well... should I settle? Are un-cute men the future?
I was scanning my Friendster account and I had the itch to check out my ex's file. C'mon people, who hasn't done it? Friendster has been so convenient in tracking down old connections, you might as well try to sneak in a peek at what your old flame has been up to. But instead of looking at his account, I decided to check his current girlfriend's account. And what I saw made me disappointed in myself. When we broke up, I led myself to believe *mark my words you dickhead* that he will never have it as good as me. It seems that he has found better. I felt good for him in a way but surprisingly bad at myself. Seems that girlie here is a little more academically accomplished than me, though I am prettier (ha!) It's like being in a locker room where girls compare body attributes...except the girl doesn't know that I'm measuring myself against her.
A post-shopping/merienda conference with two of my favorite friends helped me decipher this weird human compulsion. Girlfriend attributed it to the fact where you want to see that you have actually done better than your ex. Smug at your superiority, we bask in the fact that we are "better than the Joneses."
"But what happens when you find out that he actually has traded up...better than you?"
Boyfriend: "Then you go, 'What did she see in that loser?'"
Ahhh...sourgraping. The favorite hobby of the bitter. But I vowed never to return to being rancid.
I know it's bad to compare, whether you're on top or on the bottom rung. We're two different people. If there's anything I've learned living with my sister, comparing two people is like comparing apples and oranges. Well, I'm definitely over him. I guess I've learned my lesson: Never look at an ex's account ever again, even to snoop! It opens old wounds.
Seeing two of my friends attached to the unlikeliest men has got me thinking...Maybe I should consider dating a guy less attractive than I am. I've always had a weak spot for good-looking men, and it seems to have gotten me nowhere. Like other women who have decided to "settle," they probably have found out that guys who are not very attractive aren't too distracted by their ego to lose focus in the relationship. It may be that I haven't found the right guy, but could it be possible that I may be raising the bar too high? That I am actually discounting a lot of great but not very cute men out there? That I am a shallow betch (hi Chona!)? That they know something that I have't realized yet? That they're ahead of the game than I am? These guys may not be my type...
I attended the Toastmasters International-Luzon conference today and this guy who I've known for sometime was totally flirting with me. Some of my fellow Toastmasters thought that we were an item. I just went along with the game. I'm not sure if he wants a relationship or some ass, but it kinda got me thinking...
...Sure he ain't hot.
...but hooking up with him isn't unfeasible.
We have a lot in common...i like him, though not really that way...
...and the thought of sleeping with him doesn't repulse me...
hmmm...
We'll see what happens on Sunday. He sent me a text message tonight, saying that he wished he booked a room at the hotel where the convention was held so we could've "talked all night." Yeah, right.
Oh well... should I settle? Are un-cute men the future?
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