Archive for May, 2008

krista’s birthday post

Thursday, May 29th, 2008



you know what they say: friends and lovers come and go, but sisters are forever.


the kite runner

Wednesday, May 28th, 2008

 the kite runner

“… I wondered if that was how forgiveness budded, not with the fanfare of epiphany, but with pain gathering its things, packing up, and slipping away unannounced in the middle of the night.”

Khaled Hosseini, “The Kite Runner”, page 388

finished last night Hosseini’s awesomely heartbreaking book. finally, after what seemed to be a decade of trying to get past page 25. i had no choice but to stay in bed with my tattered lungs for most of monday and now, ta-da! i am now wondering why i hadn’t finished it much earlier.

so, what do i think of it? let’s see. it broke my heart, of course. maybe one of these days we could already watch the movie version and compare. reading hosseini’s description of afghanistan was the most heartbreaking of all, i am left wishing that most of that was fictional, that things are after all well over there. and oh, the children. the children. =(

i guess this year’s turning out to be better, book-wise. at least, my book queue is moving — the speed of glaciers, yes, but with global warming and all, i don’t know if that metaphor is still proper.

under the weather

Tuesday, May 27th, 2008

time has come for my mandatory annual mid-year illness that involves the usual unravelling of my respiratory system.

and this time you can’t tell me off for smoking because i am now 77 days smoke-free.

but like an ex-lover you can’t shake off the first few months, it seems that smoking and i are inevitably still entwined. it was a night’s worth of hanging out with andrea’s smoker friends inside a small room in Providence on Leon Guinto that did it for me this time.

no regrets though as the night was a milestone on its own — this is 100% second-hand-smoke-induced. yes, not one puff for me.

the old joke was that smoking had “cured” my asthma. true enough, when i was still a smoker, sitting around with smokers for hours on end did not get me this sick. but looking back, that made it a lot scarier — what was the habit in fact doing to me that smoke of that level did not make me sick?

just a thought.

so yeah, as my sister says: for the time being, cough it all out!

gee, thanks. :)


Saturday, May 24th, 2008

One of the things I look forward to on Saturdays when we have a Read-Along session is the interview portion after – we corner our celebrity reader/s, whisk him/her/them away into the Library and talk casually about the experience of reading before children, of their reading habits, of their own childhoods as surrounded by books and stories, and all that jazz. It’s quite refreshing really, when you think about it – no politics, no heavy issues, no economic terms and facts and stats and surveys, just seemingly idle talk about reading, kids, etc.

So this morning we had Karen Davila over for a brief storytelling session and interesting conversation. Her own words: “What people don’t realize is that I could be funny.” And she is. With all due respect, it was such a surprise. Definitely one of my favorite after-Read-Along interviews.

What struck me the hardest, actually, was her response to a question I posed in the middle of Schatzi’s interview. (Tama bang makisawsaw. Couldn’t help myself.) She was explaining how she managed her time between her work and her family, and she said something like she preferred to weave all the elements of her life together in one seemingly seamless bunch – she works while she’s tending to her kid, etc.

So I asked, Don’t you think there’s danger there – that you’re never really “not at work.”

This was her response:

“I think… you have to define work – everything is work. Love is work. Family is work. Friendships are work – you know that for a fact. If you don’t spend time enough with one friend, you will lose contact. You will lose a certain closeness. You have to see that it’s a privilege to be working – yun ang una, mindset. Everything involves work.”

The way this statement struck a somewhat sensitive cord in me was unbelievable – add this to the fact that she was looking right at me as if she knew something, saw through something. Haha. Ang galing lang. 


Thursday, May 22nd, 2008

With no Goliath in sight, the saga for the American Idol this year ends with a David taking the crown. Certainly this has been quite a year I followed, religiously tuning into Star World on Wednesdays and Thursdays, from the elimination rounds to the finals and through all Paula Abdul’s witticisms from outer space and adjacent areas.

I say it’s been quite a fun ride – but not without the people I had gone ga-ga over Idol with. =) as they say, what a crowd we have tonight. Yes, what a crowd – this includes officemates (whose cheers and side comments made the AI experience a lot more enjoyable), my boss (who lent the section a proper-looking TV for the occasion haha) and my 11-year-old brother (who sends me his analyses of Idol via SMS. Ah, how technology could be so sweeeeeeeeeet).

david archuleta vs. david cook - image c/o


the art of parting

Wednesday, May 21st, 2008

Or, alternatively, further meditations on the continental drift theory

Come to think of it, it’s easier trying to explain why some romantic connections are suddenly severed – these are the stuff break-ups between lovers are made of. Sadly, they are sometimes over the minutest of things. In other situations, they could also be over the insurmountable consequences of certain events that transpire through the years. Sometimes they could have been avoided; sometimes, it was how the natural flow of things would have gone. It’s sad to note also that some relationships have been doomed to end even before they really began.

There are third parties, and impossible parents and in-laws; there are racial boundaries, sexual norms; there are religion-related limits. There are power hierarchies even, for those who are involved with their own superiors or their own employees. In some cases, there are social dispositions to be taken into consideration. For lovers in separate continents, the mere existence of the distance between is sometimes reason enough to end it.

There are a lot of reasons why marriages are broken, why couples file for divorce where they could or why younger lovers have to part. But that’s not the point of this at all.

What I’m curious about is how and why platonic relationships fall apart.


curious surprises

Tuesday, May 20th, 2008

got an envelope on my desk containing these today:


thanks to g. lancaster of for the lovely quirky stickers. =)

from cindy loehr

a couple of days ago, it was a surprise envelope from cindy loehr. =) needless to say, it’s been a thrilling few days.

thanks for cheering us up guys. the past few weeks have been chilly and drizzly. :)



Friday, May 16th, 2008

pag gipit, ikutan. 

“Water does not resist. Water flows. When you plunge your hand into it , all you feel is a caress. Water is not a solid wall, it will not stop you. But water always goes where it wants to go, and nothing in the end can stand against it. Water is patient. Dripping water wears away a stone. Remember that, my child. Remember you are half water. If you can’t go through an obstacle, go around it. Water does.”

-Margaret Atwood, The Penelopiad.

sa madaling salita

Tuesday, May 13th, 2008
surf sunday sa real, quezon with paolo soler and everybody else.
salamat niki for the invite! sa uulitin, pagbalik mo! :)
(naghihintay pa ng on-the-water pictures. picniking c/o chief. salamat sa photos ni marie.)

mother’s day post

Saturday, May 10th, 2008

i was listening to lani mercado’s retelling of the children’s story Papel de Liha this morning during the Read-Along when one of the teachers from Sophia School asked me if my mother’s hands were also rough like sandpaper.

for the sake of shortening the conversation, i just said something like, “She worked in the office.”

i think teacher just smiled and said, ”that’s more common nowadays, isn’t it.” this is to imply that yayas, not moms, do the bulk of the chores these days.

it would have been a longer conversation, had i not been stuck at the first question: were my mother’s hands rough, too?