Sharing and holding back

I started blogging seven years ago (GASP), when blogging was new and cool. Templates were severely basic. I had to learn how to rig up my comments section and do basic html - bold, italics, underline, blockquotes, posting pictures - by reading more sophisticated blogs and using the handy view source button to see their html.

I, like probably every blogger at the time, shared my guts like there was no tomorrow. Everything was something to write about. I crossed a street and guys in a car applauded by jiggling boobs? I ranted and stewed about it. The challenges of getting married, raising a child, setting up my own home - all of that was documented in gory detail.

It was liberating. I was young, 20 or 21, and I had a lot to prove. At work and in the freelancing that I learned so much from, even with acquaintances, I experienced patronizing remarks. "You're young, you don't know much," was the undercurrent of what they said, and it grated at me. Sure I was young, but I had a lifetime of experience under my belt. I was a mom at 19 yet graduated on time, got kicked out of the house twice (once while pregnant), married at 21, running my own household AND supporting my family (with a lot of help from my dad with the rent, it should be said) at 22. At that age I knew the tension of racing a child to the hospital and the frustration with nonexistent doctors and less-than-sympathetic nurses and residents who were, frankly, clueless. There was a hellish week when my boss resigned, leaving me a one-man team, and my son spent a week in the hospital, unable to breathe. I worked half a day each day and rushed back to the hospital to deal with a panicking mother and the various helpful "suggestions" I got from well-meaning relatives, who only upped my stress levels. So you can understand how pissed off I was when these "friends," who lived with their parents, barely took care of themselves and concerned their days with mindless romantic drama, spoke to me with condescension. They knew NOTHING. Fortunately, my blog was there to explain my side of things. Anything that frustrated me was fodder for the publish button. And in those extremely stressful, WAAAAAY-over-my-head days, that outlet was vital to my survival.

Time passed, I got older, things settled down, and rebellious me got a system together for dealing with, well, life. The vitality of that outlet for my frustrations and stress diminished more as life became more orderly and liveable.

And then, of course, there were the consquences of all those overshare posts, written in pique, spite, contempt and rage. The feeling passes as it is written down, but once that's out there and read, it's not going to be taken back anymore. People were hurt and offended. Sometimes, complete strangers. I couldn't care less about some of the commenters I got, but they definitely cared - cared enough to let me know how offended they were. There was a lesson in this: responsibility. That even if you write, presumably, for yourself, once you put it out there for public consumption, you're responsible for it. And I realized I was no Courtney Love or Howard Stern who didn't give a damn what people thought. It mortified me that what I wrote hurt people. I couldn't deal with causing unintentional pain. I took pains to be polite and proper in real life, only moving to anger after years of abuse, and it shocked me that my "cyber" self was this uncouth, loudmouth, judgmental thing. So I started filtering my thoughts and thinking very, very hard before hitting publish.

In the past two or three years, though, I've been experiencing something entirely new: the unwillingness to share. Even the positives in my life, accomplishments, things that made me happy, things that keep me going, make me smile and grateful, little harmless things - well, honestly, they're almost always the same few things - were hard to write about. It's been an effort to tell the world (well OK, the two people who read this) just how great my day was. Somehow, I just lost that urge to share.

I used to follow about twenty blogs, from close friends and strangers, every day. Little by little, they've stopped writing too. Now I read less than half that original number, and most of those are impersnonal gossip, fashion and football blogs. I guess that like me, other bloggers - some of whom have been pounding away longer than I have - lost that need to share as well.

I started blogging because I had thoughts and ideas that I wanted others to know. I wanted them to know who I was. Right now, through 800 posts, I feel like I've established that. So what else is there to write about?

We'll see.

nakakataranta

noong isang araw kausap ko ang nanay ko tungkol doon sa mga family gimmick. minsan hindi ako nakakapunta, or di naman kaya ni hindi ko nasasabing makakapunta ako o hindi. sabi ko sa kanya na hindi ko mapigilan e, "parang palagi akong natataranta."

pag pasok sa opisina, habang nagkakape e sumusugod na ako sa trabaho. checklist isa dalawa tatlo, lahat ng kailangang magawa sa araw na ito. alin ang pwedeng ipabukas para hindi naman ako mag overtime ngayon? alin ang pwede kong iparte-parte para kahit kalahati man lang ng isang proyekto e magagawa ko ngayon? alin ang kailangan na kailangan na talagang matapos ngayon din? pagkagawa ng checklist, ayun na. lusong sa baha.

pagkatapos magtrabaho nagmamadali na ako sa iba't iba kong aktibidades. futsal o yoga o makipagkita sa mga kaibigan.

paguwi sa bahay, lulutuin ko ang baon ko para sa kinabukasan. kakausapin at bibiruin ang asawa't anak. titignan ang mga kailangang gawin sa bahay. ang mga maliliit na detalye na kapag pinabayaan e magpapatong-patong at magdudulot ng gulo. maliligo, magaayos ng gamit. pag sabit ng hatinggabi, matutulog sa tinding pagod.

uulitin lahat pagkagising bukas.

pag gusto kong mag "unwind", paguran din ang hanap ko. gimik. sayawan. inuman. o simpleng usap-usapan kasama ang mga matagal nang di nakikitang kaibigan hanggang umagahin sa kwentuhan. kapag nagbabakasyon ako, gusto ko ding sagarin ang araw. hangga't kayang sumugod, susugod, rarampa, lalakad. minsan naiisip ko na kailangan ko ng bakasyon sa mga bakasyon ko.

pag natityempohan kong nasa bahay, kailangan ko naman maglaba, magluto, suriin ang kailangang bilhin sa grocery, linisin ang mga kailangang linisin. napakalaking tulong sa akin ng asawa ko na siyang buma-back-up sa akin para konti nalang ang iintindihin ko. maswerte ako dahil bihirang-bihira ang lalaking ganyan.

ang pagpapahinga ko, iniipon ko. sa Holy Week na ako magpapahinga, sinasabi ko. pag may araw na biglang walang pasok, sabi ng gobyerno, doon ko na binubuhos ang pahingang hanap ng katawan ko.

hindi ako nagrereklamo. eto ang gusto ko: ang puno ang iskedyul, ang mayroong palaging gagawin at iintindihin. siguro ang magiging reklamo ko nalang ay kulang na kulang ang oras at panahon sa dami pa ng bagay na gusto ko pang gawin. nauubos kasi minsan sa mga maliliit na detalyeng pang-araw-araw ang panahon ko, na naiisip ko sana mas magandang naaksaya sa mas makabuluhan o masayang kagapanan. sana mas marami akong panahon. sana kaya ng katawan kong hindi maghanap ng tulog dahil sayang din yung 6 o 7 oras sa isang araw. sana pwede kong kopyahin ang sarili ko, parang yung sineng Multiplicity, para may magaasikaso ng mga nakakakibot na detalye habang ginagawa ko yung mga gusto ko talagang subukan.

walang kabuluhan itong sinulat ko. kailangan ko lang ng 15 na minutos para isulat at mailabas ang mga nagrarambulan sa utak ko para mabawasan ang pagkataranta. O siya. Sugod ulit.

Angkor Wat

Toul Sleng

Cambodia!

You're not going to get anything coherent out of me for the next few weeks because this year's Big Trip, Cambodia? TOTALLY FREAKING ROCKED.

I mean,


and COME ON


and Tee-hee!


I enjoyed it so much.


So before I get into the nitty gritty of our trip - food (superb), nightlife (don't mind the less-than-updated music and it's fun), Angkor Wat (No. Words. Can. Describe. It.) - here's a quick travel recap to answer the questions I've been getting all week:

What's it like there?
Phnom penh is relaxed, quaint and pretty. Little French-colonial architechtural touches (graceful windows, terraces, little gardens) mingle with large Khmer buildings, featuring spiked roofs, tiered towers, Naga everywhere and the Cambodian Lion. There are big parks in the city center. Siem Reap, meanwhile, is a pit stop to Angkor Wat, so it's more tourist friendly - which is not to say that the ladi-back, bohemian-backpacker vibe is not enjoyable. It's just different from the capital.

What about the people?
From what I've encountered in Phnom Penh and Siem Reap - they speak English reasonably well and are polite. Tuktuk drivers, sales people, ticket agents are generally pleasant. It must be said as well that we were also lucky in that our friend, Karen, has lived in Phnom Penh for the past four years and directed us towards trusted people - Saray the tuktuk driver, who took us on our city tour, Vuthy, who drove us around Angkor Wat, and the good people at Mekong Express - as well as headed off any potential bad apples.

What's to see?
Angkor Wat, duh. If that's not your thing, or if you're into that first world/cosmopolitan vibe of, say, HK, I'm not sure if the charming little cafes and boutiques in Phnom Penh and Siem Reap will do it for you. If so, better not go. If it's any consolation, most of the places we went to were wi-fi enabled.

Shopping?
Market shopping is OK for stuff like silver, silk, carvings and handicrafts. I wish I'd saved money for the boutiques. There are a lot of small shops carrying stuff beyond your usual generic department store goods. I saw stuff from dainty dresses to deconstructed, avante garde wear (at Poetry in Siem Reap, which Pinoy duo Don Protacio and Loven Ramos run), silk bags, amazing quilts and cruelty-free, recycled clothes (think old T-shirts cut to strips and asssembled to make a cool new blouse, at Street 140, Phnom Penh).

Eating?
Cambodian food is very friendly to Pinoy palates - sweetish and not too spicy, mostly stir-fried, some use gata. Their curries are mild and the amok, wrapped in banana leaves, is like laing. There are a lot of other options too. That French influence results in almost generally good baguettes wherever you go. Plus, there's the Happy Herb Pizza.

How do you get there?
As of now there are no direct flights from Manila, that should change soon. You can enter through the South, Vietnam, which is what we did. Fly to Ho Chi Minh City, go to Pham Ngu Lao (the backpackers' area) and get a ticket on the Mekong Express bus. A trip to Phnom Penh (6 hours) is $14, while to Siem Reap it's $24 (12-13hours), which includes bottled water, moist towelettes and food for each leg. You can also opt to pass the Thai border to Siem Reap.

Dollars?
Yes, most transactions in Cambodia are in US dollars, and the currency, Riel, is used for small change. Don't worry, it's still cheaper than, say, Singapore.

What about that Killing Fields thing?
It's unavoidable and it does exist in the background of things everywhere in the country. I recommend going to the Toul Sleng genocide museum in Phnom Penh. It's not an easy place to be in - and it's certainly not pleasant - but it's vital to appreciating the country and its history. To see how terrible it was and how they've had to work really hard to start moving on is, to me, something important, responsible and respectful every traveler should do.

So, do you still recommend it?
Abso-freaking-lutely.

Walking tall

At around age 11 I got hit real hard by the tweens (then called "pre-teens"), that stage before actual adolescence when more often than not you're going through that terrible physically awkward stage and mood swings that aren't as devilish as those in your teens but not as tantrum-y as in your childhood and end up just being super petulant and annoying. Anyhoodle, at this age, I felt really ugly (but in all honesty, when I see pictures of myself from that time I do resemble some sort of feral child) and idolized models. I wouldn't eat (thereby stunting my height), plucked my eyebrows, shaved my legs (wanted to shave my arms as well) and adopted a hybrid model gait, walking slouchily with the belly sticking out. It was only later on that I realized that the jutting pelvis was really the natural curvature of the skeleton appearing through flesh and zero fat and wasn't actually actively adopted. Too late: I developed a weird, belly-out, feet pointed outwards (because I have naturally turned out feet IF ONLY I DID BALLET AS A CHILD DAMNIT) walk that I've been trying all my life to shake off. I also think it's the reason why I've always had a puson.

I've been doing yoga sporadically for a year and one of the things our teacher keeps on reminding me to do is to "pull the shoulders away from the ears." For the longest time I couldn't understand what she meant, until she described "visualizing pockets on your back where you tuck your shoulder blades inside." After a few sessions, I could do most of the poses with this crucial information intact.

Lately I've been doing barre3 at The Spa and this knowledge is put to even better use. Barre3 is a combination of yoga, pilates and ballet where you work out using your body weight as resistance. There is a ballet barre in the studio plus some light weights, a strap and a ball, but mostly it's lifting yourself and maintaining balance. Posture is very important: the shoulders must be drawn away from the ears, the hips square (which basically means when you face the mirror neither hip should be higher than the other) and the navel drawn to the spine. These basic rules need to be kept throughout the grueling session.

Now, when I first tried this out, I was very nearly reduced to tears. A friend who does it often told me that you immediately see results and feel stronger after each consecutive session, but I was thinking "there is no way in hell I'm doing that again." But I'd asked some officemates to try it with me, promising to accompany them when they do go, so I had no choice but to go again a week after my first session. What do you know, my friend was right: the second session was loads easier than the first. I had my third session last weekend and I can already feel the changes. It's a lot easier for me to pull my shoulders away from the ears even when sitting down and walking, and I feel like my balance is improving.

So perhaps this will be the answer to all those years of awful posture. It also helps that one of the barre3 teachers asked if I danced, because I had good form. All of my years of regret for not studying ballet as a child were vindicated. Abangan!

The sweetest thing

On the week of my last birthday, one of my colleagues from Hong Kong kept on emailing me if I'd "received anything from the mail yet." I thought she'd sent me a card and wondered why I didn't get it yet. A month later, and still no word on her package, she came clean: she'd gotten me a Liverpool DVD. I thanked her profusely but we were both disappointed that the package seemed to have disappeared. Having encountered the Philippine postal system before, and knowing how an item like a DVD may conveniently be "lost" into an employee's bag, I didn't have any high hopes.

I guess it's a good thing that not many Filipinos are into football. Because guess what turned up yesterday? My package!

It's such an awesome DVD. D and I watched it last night, and it just makes me believe again. It had the highlights from every match played last season, plus interviews with Rafa, Stevie, Torres, Xabi (like a wonderful ex, seeing him makes me sad and smiley altogether), Dirk Kuyt, Sami Hyypia, Pepe Reina, Carra (who needs subtitles my god) and the super adorable Yossi Benayoun, who sounds so much like Zohan you almost expect him to say "Fizzy Bubbly." To be honest, I've not been watching their recent matches to save myself heartache, but the DVD reminded me of that first blush of devotion. This is the team I fell in love with. This is the team that never gave up. Last season saw so many come-from-behind wins, extreme goal fests and last minute cannons from Stevie that saved the day. They did it before and I believe they can do it again. (It does hurt, a little, to see Xabi there, and Alvaro Arbeloa, and Sami and even Dossena - guys who aren't there anymore, and maybe were not that appreciated, but did make an impact last season. But ah, such is football.)

My colleague's card, which came from the DVD, was also very very sweet and touching.

Walked past the shop the other day and saw this VCD and thought of you immediately.

Just a small token to express my sincere thanks for all the assistance and support you have given me.

Am aware that this year has brought you happy and sad memories so far. But I am sure your loved ones will continue to watch over you from heaven and only want you to carry the happy memories forward as you embark on a brighter, happier and fruitful future ahead.

That note just made my day. :) One of the best birthday presents ever - even if it did come four months too late.

Snow Day

Liverpool gets snowed in at their Melwood training base
How can you not love a team *this* adorable? Sigh...

Party songs

There are songs that are old, idiotic, or sung by people who are overrated or baduy or just not cool enough - but make AWESOME party music. I can't explain why I love these songs - they're certainly not new or cutting edge - but dammit, they just relieve the working day with beats that conjure dark clubs, drinks spilled down shirts and feet sore from dancing (aka, perfect party nights.) Plus, after being in my playlist for a loooong time (more than two years in some cases), these stand the test of time. Classic party songs? Why not!

Superstar - Lupe Fiasco
More of a cool down song (to borrow from aerospeak), this song is still a great, chill huh-huh-hu-hu-ho slinkfest for the ears.

Red Dress - Sugababes
That pam-pa-ra-ram after "Coz I'm cooler than the red dress" is scientifically proven to induce butt shaking.

Faster Kill Pussycat - Paul Oakenfold feat. Brittany Murphy
RIP Brittany Murphy. She has a great singing voice put to fantastic use in this raspy, sexy Paul Oakenfold ditty.

Cheap and Cheerful (Nite Cells Bored Robot Mix) - The Kills
This remix captures the perfect mood to accompany The Kills' tongue-in-cheek lyrics (I'm bored of cheap and cheerful, I want expensive sadness. Hospital bills, parole, open doors to madness...)

Let it Rock - Kevin Rudolf feat. Lil Wayne
I don't know why, but this song just puts me in a New Year's Party frame of mind.

Patron Tequila - Paradiso Girls
Oh look, another scantily clad girl group from Pussycat Dolls maven Robin Antin and ooh how original, they're singing about getting drunk. Pero I'm sorry ha, this song, though sharing the same DNA as "Let it Rock," is undeniably catchy (those rumbling kettle drums are genius) and the Paradiso Girls are cute! And charming! Like sluttier Spice Girls! I want to hug 'em and squeeze 'em and collect their toy versions!

Ring in the new

On New Year's Eve at LB, in the Geefle fascinator from my sis-in-law
As you can see, I had my bangs trimmed but my neighborhood parlorista (not Mat my stylist, as he's a bit too expensive for a fringe trim) kind of cut it too short so now I'm werqing a Veronica Lodge / retro look for the New Year. At least, that's what I'm telling myself. The truth is that I was plunged into a well of hair despair after this pic was taken and I did my usual prep - plantsa and hair spray - and found my forehead surmounted by an extremely crooked fringe. Subsequent New Year's pics kind of prooved the point. Now I know why Mat initially cut my bangs so long - they prevent the dreaded Square Peg look. Anyhow, my hair grows out pretty fast anyway, and D says he can fix it once it's a little long, and now pinaninindigan ko ang pagka Veronica Lodge ko by playing up the eyeliner and the red lipstick. I can't let my hair despair turn me fugly.

So what else is new?

I'm looking forward to returning to my fitness routine with yoga on Thursday and the return of futsal on Monday. I haven't counted calories since the 22nd and I only began again today. I know I've eaten way too much, but today's a new day and I'm back on the wagon.

I'm traveling to Cambodia this month with some good friends and I'm really excited!

I got a real nice planner from Happy that's already stuck with notes. (Yes, things like this make me happy.)

My New Year's resolution is to go to church more often and serve more.

2010 has began pretty well and I hope it stays that way. :)