Age is JUST a number

I say I'm 27. Seriously.

I say I’m 27. Seriously.

When I was young(er), I used to think that people who were in their 30’s or 40’s were already old.

I grew up in the generation where the young ones realize and acknowledge the authority of elders, may they be parents, aunts or uncles, or parents’ friends.  As a teenager, I was close to my aunts, we tell stories and we laugh a lot, but never did I see them as my equal.  They were always “up there.”  They were older and I gave them all the respect that they deserved.  Though honestly, there were times when I didn’t want to hang out with them because it felt “uncool” hanging out with older people…

I was never really close to my mom when I was growing up because she was more of a figure of authority than anything else.  I followed and obeyed.  I never saw her as a “friend.”  Provider, yes.  Parent, yes.  But, buddy? Chum? Friend?!  As Tyra Banks would have said it, “Hell to the no!”

Besides, the age gap made it difficult for me to see her differently.  My parents — and their siblings — will always be older.  When I was a teenager, I had this thinking that they were already ancient.  Gosh.

I am in my late thirties now.  To be more precise, I am pushing forty.  Just saying that is making my heart palpitate.  In my young self’s eyes, I AM ANCIENT!  Panic time.  Gulp.  I. can’t. breathe. too. well. 

Thinking about it, I don’t feel too different.  I mean, I feel like I’m the same ME that I was as a teenager.  I have the same friends…  I dislike the same people (oh, grow up, girl!)…  I still like the colors pink and purple and all shades of violet…  I still like the same kind of music — or at least, I still DON’T like the heavy metal kind (gives me headaches), while classical music still makes me sleep…  I am still conscious of my weight — like I have been when I was infact 20lbs lighter… I still think my arms and thighs are big…

So, maybe I have matured a bit.  Maybe I look at life differently now, meaning I am not after the drama anymore.  I don’t get stressed easily now… though come to think of it, I was never really the ‘easily-stressed’  type.  I know for a fact that my personal experiences, both good and bad, have shaped me into who I am today… But somehow, for some reason, I still FEEL like I am the same person — same girl– that I was years back.  Twenty or so years back, to be precise.

I don’t really feel old.  Or ancient.  I am in my late thirties, but I feel young. I am the same Me that I have always been.

Now I realize that 30 or 40 is NOT old or ancient.  Gosh, I’m taking back the perception I had of my aunts when I was young.  I am there now… and I wouldn’t want my son or my son’s friends to think that I am not cool because I an older.

Age is JUST a number.  It’s who you are inside that truly matters in the end.

Uhm, can you please remind me of all these before I actually turn forty…  In case, you know, I start panicking and begin having my midlife crisis…  Sigh…

Maybe it’s about time that I accept — and admit– my real age.

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photo via google images

Mr. Ken Doll

Ken needs a Supergoddess Barbie

Ken needs a Supergoddess Barbie

He was a male model… He did tv commercials, but he mostly did ramp.  He was goodlooking — in a boyish way.  He was tall, he had this really dazzling smile… and a really hot bod.  He was like a Ken doll.

He was a good friend of a boyfriend.  Boyfriend used to do some modelling as well, so naturally he hang out with fellow models.  That was how I met Mr. Ken doll.

When boyfriend left the country, I stayed in touch with some of his friends.   When boyfriend eventually became an ex, Mr. Ken doll expressed interest in dating me… but didn’t really know if it was the right thing to do since I was the girlfriend of a good friend.  It didn’t seem right.  It was like crossing a boundary.

We did go out several times.  We talked a lot.  We laughed.  We flirted.  We watched basketball games together.  We talked about our favorites — his was carrot cake, mine was coffee.  We had a good time.

I liked being seen with him because he was a Ken doll… and I felt like I was Barbie.  I was living very girl’s dream.  I was every girl’s source of envy.

Going out with Ken made me forget about the heartbreak caused by long-distance boyfriend.  I thought being with another goodlooking guy will fill the void left by an ex.  In a way, it did.  It did make me forget… but only for a short while.

Somehow the thrill of being with Ken was fleeting.

One night, I just suddenly realized that Ken and I didn’t have anything in common.  I tried to dig deep to feel something towards him… some love or deep affection… yet I didn’t find any.  There was fondness, yes, but that was just it.  Nothing more.

Perhaps the only connection we truly had was the memory of my ex-boyfriend… his ex-friend.

We parted ways amicably.  No tears, no drama.  I never wondered what “could have been” because I knew Ken and I weren’t meant to be.

What I learned from the whole Ken experience is this:  You really cannot force yourself to love — or even just like, LIKE — someone if your heart isn’t there.  You cannot force yourself to feel a certain way towards someone.  Or even if you do try, in your heart of hearts, you would know that you’re not fooling anybody else but yourself.

Kissing Ken may have been fun, but it didn’t make me his Barbie.  He didn’t turn out to be my Prince Charming, too.  Good thing we were both mature enough not to pretend we were something we weren’t.

Some things are really just not meant to be.

It’s Ken’s birthday today.  And his real name’s Ron.

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photo via google images

 

 

Life Matters

peace and quiet

At just about the same time that I was writing my blog last Friday, something tragic was happening in Japan.

As I was musing about the universe telling me something by way of a sudden increase in my blog hits, somewhere out there, nature was making its power felt thru a strong earthquake and a devastating tsunami.

My sign was just a mere whisper.  For the people affected by the earthquake and the tsunami, the universe practically sent them a scream. 

There may be no connection between me and them.  Or there is a great connection between all of us, because we are all living in one planet… our lives, one way or the other, interwoven. 

As I watched the news about the calamity that befell Japan, I can’t help but be ashamed of the little things that I let myself get bothered by.  Somehow, my concerns seemed trivial, even shallow, compared to the plight of the ones affected by the calamity.   

The tsunami that hit Japan showed how everything is fleeting.  In a split second, one can lose everything that he has.  It also made me realize that one can never be too ready.  Having too much money, or a big house, or whatever material stuff you can think of, cannot protect you from whatever the universe throws your way. 

A lot of things we deem important all of a sudden seemed to lose their relevance.

Fragile and Precious

Life is fragile.  It can be taken away from you with or without warning.  That’s why your every single breathing moment should count. (And yes, it’s not about counting blog hits.) 

Life is precious.  Each of us has only one life to live.  Perhaps the best thing to do is to live it well. 

What does living well mean?  Maybe it’s by choosing to be happy.  It’s by choosing to make other people happy.  It’s about lending a hand to others less fortunate… putting a smile on someone else’s face… or even by just smiling at other people.

Maybe it’s about sharing.  It’s by blessing others with what you, yourself, are blessed with.  It may be by sharing what you no longer need to those who need it more… or sharing your talent for others to learn from… or maybe even sharing your time with those people who really just need someone who will listen or stay with them. 

Sometimes we get  too wrapped up in ourselves that we worry and we get stressed and anxious about the littlest things.  Our world seems to get so small… basically because our world revolves around ourselves.

Look outside.  There’s a big world around you.  Other people share your troubles.  There are other people who have greater troubles even. 

Maybe if we know what it means to be thankful… REALLY thankful… for the things that we have, then life won’t be such a struggle. 

contentment

Yes, I believe in striving hard to get better.  I believe in expecting greatness.  We all deserve that.  Yet I also believe in contentment.  Contentment doesn’t mean limiting yourself or setting your standards low.  To me it’s about being at peace with what you have and not putting emphasis on just the material things.  It’s about being grateful for what you have at present. 

It is about finding joy in what you have, what you are doing and where you are.  In the end, that’s all that really matters, right? 

“I had no shoes and complained, until I met a man who had no feet.” 

– Indian proverb

 

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photos via weheartit.com

Author’s note: Welcome back, my pretty pink background! 🙂

Writing, Interrupted

 
I made some changes… and then I disappeared.

It’s the 8th of March.  The last time I blogged was on the last day of February.  Okay, so maybe that was just a week ago, yet I really feel like something’s amiss.  I just can’t make myself sit in front of the computer long enough to compose a decent blog. 

Two weeks ago I told a friend of mine about my dream writing project.  It was an idea that came to me sometime in the beginning of this year.  I toyed around with the idea and even made some research about it.  I was all gung-ho at first… determined to put a start on this project as soon as possible.  I felt I was ready enough.  I believed I write well enough.  I was confident that I could do something BY myself and FOR myself, using the God-given skills and talents that I have. 

And then something happened.  Life happened. 

Perhaps everyone who knows me also knows that for me, family always comes first.  In my everyday existence for the past ten or so years, my life is about my family.  My son.  My partner.  Even down to my parents and my siblings.  I am “hero support” after all.  Taking care of them is what I do.  It is what I do best.

Writing is a passion.  Blogging is something that helps me de-stress.  Whenever I write, I get to express the thoughts that I don’t get to say easily.  Writing helps keep my brain cells from turning into mush or from simply dying.  My greatest fear is to get Alzheimer’s (and at a very young age), so I have to do something to keep my brain cells functioning.  And so I vowed I will write as often as I can.  I will try to get published more often,  I will blog regularly. 

In the beginning of the year, I vowed to hone my writing skills so that when people ask me what I do, I can say that I am a writer without feeling like such a fake.   And I told myself I will take a few more brave steps and start with my writing project…

and like I said earlier,  life happened. 

Superhero Me

My life.  That superhero day job of me taking care of the world… or at least, the people in my world.  Somehow I don’t have the luxury of time to just sit down and compose something.  Even finishing this blog is getting to be quite difficult.  You have no idea how many drafts I started and saved (or eventually discarded).  I think of a topic… and then the phone rings… I try to write some, and then I get cellphone messages… and I totally lose my train of thought.  When I start to write once again, I get to remember the reviewer I have to make for my son’s exams, and then I feel guilty for not prioritizing that first.

And so I go back to doing things for them first before I do things for me

No, I am not complaining.  I chose this kind of life.  I derive joy from the gratitude and appreciation that my family show me for the things — some little, some big — that I do for them.   And maybe this is really the kind of person that I am… I mean, I will always choose helping my son with his project first before I start with my own project.  I will be there for my sister whenever her boys need me, even if that would mean giving up my writing time.   Planning that major baseball event for the boys eats up most of my waking hours, but I wouldn’t think of giving it up.

Maybe it’s because it feels good to be needed.   I can write and write and write and have hundreds of readers, and still feel alone… Or I can spend my time doing something for someone, and feel fulfilled.

Please remind me next time...

Right now it seems my other projects weigh more than the writing project that I dreamed for myself.   I can’t force myself to begin a new writing project when all that’s in my mind at the moment are either baseball, exams and zombies.  I will probably end up writing about nothing but — well, baseball, exams and zombies.   HAVE been blogging about zombies.  How lame is that?!

I have my family, and I have my writing.  My family is my life… and writing is who I am.  It’s not like I have to choose one over the other.  But sometimes there’s just not enough time to concentrate on both.  I wouldn’t want to come up with a product that’s half-baked. I know I have to prioritize something.    

So if you don’t see me around in the next couple of weeks, I guess you already know what that means. (It means I am recharging… regrouping… or I’m basically just insanely busy doing something else.)

I am not making excuses.  It just is.

The hard part is seeing my daily blog hits dwindling (hurray to the 3 hits I’ve been getting for the past three days!!).  But then again, as Don Michaele Corleone once said, “That is the price you pay for the life you choose.”

Oh well.  C’est la vie.

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photos via weheartit.com; superhero photo via google image

Facing Your Giants

 

Fearless

We are currently embarking on a big project for my son and his baseball teammates.  We were invited to a week-long, out of town tournament where the boys will be playing against ten teams from different places.  To say that it is a privilege to be invited will be an understatement.  This would be an experience that is good for the boys.  They will be playing as a team… and they will be playing as friends. 

However, since there is an age requirement and the games will not be until July, the more senior players will already move to the next bracket, thus, leaving the younger ones.  But given the fact that they have been playing together for the school for two or three years now they all know each other’s strengths and weaknesses.  You would think that the confidence will still be there despite the fact that some boys are already moving up.

Talking to the parents about the invitation elicited various reactions, though.  At first most of them were excited… REALLY excited.  They saw that this is a great opportunity for their kid.  It’s not just an interschool tournament… the kids will play against teams from other countries, even.  Some parents were just plain gung-ho.  They were very thankful that their son was given the chance to join the team.   They even offered to help in whatever way they can just to get the team there. Their first question was, “When’s the first practice?”

But then, there were parents whose first reaction was fear.  Followed by doubt.  Coupled with disbelief.   Fear: “What if the boys there are twice as big as our boys?”  Doubt: “We don’t want them to get clobbered.  It will be devastating.” Disbelief: “Are our boys good enough?  Maybe they should send more senior players… ours are mostly at the lower age of the bracket .”  (Goodness, the age level’s 11-12.  It’s either they are 11 OR 12.)

And so the strong team that we saw in the beginning started disappearing right before our eyes.  Mainly because there were parents who apparently didn’t see their kids as good enough to add value to the team.  What they focused on were the big players of the opposing teams.  Players they have not even seen yet. 

It is just plain sad.

~ * ~

Who's your Giant?

We all have giants to face at some point in our lives. 

Life is like one baseball game… we are all on the same playing field, but the players come in different shapes and sizes.  You don’t always know what or who you will be up against.  That’s why we equip ourselves… we train, we improve our skills, we build our confidence… we try to make ourselves better.   

We ready ourselves so that when time comes that we come face to face with ‘giants,’ we don’t cower in fear.  We slug it out. 

Sometimes we win, sometimes we lose.  But losing isn’t all that bad if we know that we fought ‘til the end and we gave it our best.  What’s sad is if we give up even before we try.  The game hasn’t begun, yet we have already succumbed to defeat. 

Yes, we don’t always win.  There are giants that are just too big and too powerful.  It is easier to give in to fear and self-doubt.  But then again, what about those times when we win over problems, issues or challenges that seemed bigger than us? What about those times when we made that extra step which led us to victory when all along we thought it was a hopeless situation?  What about those times when we believed in ourselves, our capabilities enough to prove that not every difficult situation is a hopeless one? 

~*~

Thinking about our baseball-parent-friends and their reasons for not wanting their children to join the team… reasons that are basically motivated by fear, I can’t help but feel sad and disappointed.  Here is an opportunity that practically fell on our hands… something that other children (and parents) would die for and could only hope for… But they are willing to let go of the opportunity because of fear.  Fear of losing.  Fear of having bigger opponents.  Fear of things not being easy. 

But then life ISN’T always easy. 

Yes, everyone’s entitled to his or her own opinion.  Maybe these parents don’t believe in the other boys enough.  Maybe they don’t believe in their kids enough.  Or maybe they just don’t see the value that this tournament will bring to their child.  I think for my part, I just have to learn to respect their decisions.  I also believe that maybe this is for the best.  We wouldn’t want to have someone in the team whose heart is not in it.  Maybe we are better off with other players who are willing to train, willing to fight, willing to face their giants.

Devastating loss?  I believe that if you give your best, there’s no such thing as a devastating loss.  You may not win the game– but the bonding, the team work, the memories… the over-all experience, these are reasons enough to make one feel victorious. 

Do you only win because you scored higher… or do you win because you lived the experience?

It is all a matter of perspective.

very well said...

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photos via weheartit.com

24 — Rewind

As I was searching for inspiration to come up with a new blog for the week, I decided to reread my old posts.  I came across posts from the month of February (of last year).  I was just beginning to blog then and I think only a handful of people were visiting my site at that time. 

For those of you who didn’t reach that far back, here’s a repost of a blog that talks about a very exciting day in the life of the Supergoddess. 

Okay, okay, so this is cheating.  I’m reposting because my brains just got too fried after staying under the sun watching baseball games the whole week… I can’t come up with a new and exciting blog at the moment, so please bear with me.  In the coming days, I promise something better.

For the love of Jack Bauer, here’s a rewind… (and I added pictures, too!)

~ * ~

Don't you just love this guy??

19:00:59

Now that sounded kinda Jack Bauerish.  Somehow i can’t help but hear the seconds ticking away in my head – as it does in the show.

I have been here in the kitchen for the past hour, awakening the kitchen goddess in me, attempting to create a masterpiece for dinner.  As I wait for the food to cook, I couldn’t help but think of how fast the day went… and wonder if I spent it in a productive way  (thus, the transformation from kitchen goddess to Jack Bauer).

 This is today’s version of   My  24…

5:30 … alarm rings

5:31 … snooze

5:35 … alarm rings again

5:35:15 … snooze

(okay, so that basically went on every five minutes until 6:05 when i finally decided to wake up and start my day)

6:10 … prepare breakfast, packed lunch, school uniform

6:30 …  wake up child

6:30:30 … take a shower

6:45 … still taking a shower

7:00 … dress up in a rush

7:30 … bring child to school

7:40 … pray for no traffic

7:45 … pray harder for no traffic

7:55 … child in school 5 minutes before the bell. (Yey, what a feat!)

This has by far been the most boring 2 hours in Jack’s life, should he be in my shoes.  I do wonder how he can fight terrorists, fly to another continent, fight more bad people, defuse a bomb, etc. etc. all in one morning.  I have already used up about 2 ½ hours and the farthest i have been to is my child’s school.  And you saw how exciting those two hours were. 

Fast forward to 11:00… by this time, i have already consumed about 3 cups of coffee (to jumpstart the day, thus more excitement); i have been to the bank; i have gone to the other household that i’m managing, talked to the workers repainting the other house; left instructions with the domestics; gone to the grocery to buy enough food to last us for two weeks… i have talked to a couple of friends using my cellphone…

11:05… talk to architect…

11:55:10 … architect leaves… multitask : can now chat with someone from the other side of the world (who says that Jack is the only one who can communicate with people in other continents?); chat with someone from this side of the world (who says they actually work while they are at the office?!);  

15:00 … still chatting with that someone from another continent, and that other someone who’s just here somewhere… done fixing files… okay, so not really done, but at least the attempt to fix was there…  balanced my bank account already…

15:05 … get ready to pick up child from school

10 hours have passed from the time i was supposed to wake up.  Jack probably has killed a gazillion bad people in ten hours. 

Kitchen goddess doing a 24

Before I bore anyone with the details of the remaining hours leading to here and now (exactly 19:29:50), guess I’d transform back to the kitchen goddess that I am aspiring to be. 

Jack Bauer will probably go crazy if we trade places for a day.  So far the most challenging part of my day was keeping my pretty pink toenails from breaking or getting scratched.  

That and oh, yeah, saving our dinner from burning….

 19:30:00

 

 

 

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photos via google images

*repost of original blog entitled 24 published Feb 4, 2010.

New Year… New Beginnings… New Post

To new beginnings!

This is the first Monday of the year.  This is my first blog entry for the year. 

… and I don’t really know what to write about!

After the countless Christmas parties — and the unwanted pounds that I know I gained, given all the food– I think my system is still not ready to go back to my everyday reality.  Part of me is half-hoping there’s still a gift waiting to be bought, and yes, wrapped.  Holiday hangover, indeed.

new beginnings... new chances

I have yet to write down my goals for this year.  I haven’t sat down long enough (in a quiet place, where thinking IS possible) to come up with the things that I would want to accomplish this year.  I don’t do resolutions anymore… I never get to keep them anyway.  I think I only get to remember about my New Year’s Resolutions until February of the given year.  Beyond that, I normally come up with all the possible excuses for not keeping them. What’s the point, right? 

Besides, most of my resolutions are the same year in and year out… Lose 5 lbs (Gosh, I seriously don’t remember the last time I actually lost 5lbs!)… Go to the gym/exercise — I never go to the gym.  I loathe sweating, really…. Don’t spend unnecessarily– Do you call the weekly trip to Coffee Bean unnecessary spending?… etc etc etc.  The list goes on.  The list of things that I promise to do (or not to do), which I end up contradicting anyway.

This is what I like about the new year.  It always signifies that one CAN have a fresh start.  That no matter how bad the past year was… or how lousy you were at following the previous year’s resolutions, you have a new set of days to make things better, discard the old ways, old habits… and be the better person than you previously were. 

This year, I’ll do something different.  I will set goals… and maybe dangle a prize for myself should I get to achieve any.  Perhaps this year I will start treating the Mocha Ice Blend as a prize, more than a daily beverage (and then I wonder where those unwanted pounds came from!!)  This year, I will practice delayed gratification.  Somehow it is still nice when you have to work for something.  Achieving your goals is gratifying, but the journey– and the learnings along the way — is prize enough. 

Isn’t it wonderful that we are given a new set of days to live and experience life?

Happy new year everyone!

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photos via weheartit.com

Extraordinary Day

happy birthday to me...

It’s just like any ordinary day.

You wake up at the same hour that you do everyday.  You walk the dog… have coffee… watch the sunrise.  Then you prepare your son’s things for school, wake him up, wait for him to get ready… bring him to school.

It’s the same old routine that you do day in and day out.  It seems like just any ordinary day.

But it’s not. 

It IS your special day.  It’s the day that you mark the anniversary of your birth.  And somehow you know that this day is anything but ordinary.

You look in the mirror and you try to find out if you have aged overnight.  Do you have more lines on your forehead?  Crow’s feet? Laugh lines?   Gray hair?  Worse, less hair?

You reflect about the year that was.  You try to think back and remember the good things that happened over the year.  Were you a good person? A good mother, partner, daughter, sister or friend?  Did you build new friendships?  Did you rekindle old ones?  Did you reach out to people you didn’t know… touch other people’s lives?  

Was the past year significant?

You look forward and think of the things you would still want to do… goals you want to achieve… dreams you want fulfilled.  You try to plan.  You dream some more.  You wish for things, and you think of ways to turn those wishes into reality.

You look forward and envision yourself making this new year relevant.  

AND then you think about today.  You take this time to regroup… to recharge.  You know that the past is over and done with and the future is still not within your grasp.  Today is yours.  Today is about YOU. 

You know that today is not like any ordinary day… because today marks the beginning of the rest of your life.

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photo via weheartit.com