it’s bliss

I know i must feel certain ways, but i’m unable to.

There’s triumph, there’s family, there’s luxuries and opportunities unavailable to other people, there’s something that wasn’t there two years ago, there’s something that has been worked on for five years and has been finally achieved, there are friends to celebrate, there are old friends to welcome home, there’s heart, there’s emotion, there’s sensitivity, thoughtfulness, gratitude, congratulations, there are surprises, there are flowers and goodies, there are changes to embrace and look forward to.

But because something didn’t go as planned, I can’t act normally, i can’t give a long hug, i can’t smile, i can’t maintain eye contact, i can’t produce continuous, hearty laughter, my heart skips a beat at the sight and sound of familiar things and the world suddenly becomes slow motion, i contantly stare into thin air, time slows down when i’m at home, i’m tired but i don’t feel like sleeping, i play on my laptop til my eyelids drop from weariness, i don’t feel like talking, i don’t feel like sharing happy thoughts [misery must really love company], i feel like absorbing and absorbing stories like a sponge to fill my mind up with matters other than my own lame, personal issues.

I can’t get it out of my head, yet i must, i know i must. I want to, because i want to be happy, and i want to get these days over with, and forget they even happened, so i’ll be back to normal, and it’ll be back to normal, and it’ll be like nothing happened, like everything’s fresh and brand new, silver, glittery, shiny, pleasant to see, to smell, to hear, to touch, no scratch, no stain, no noise, no distraction, no semblance of imperfection to ruin the (supposedly) beautiful night that’s about to come.

I feel like a brat, a big compulsive brat, irrational and demanding and ungrateful. Tell me I am. Tell me I’m not. They say one usually confides in people whom he/she subconsciously knows will advise him/her to do the things he/she already thinks is the right thing to do; the adviser is therefore only there to reinforce what the person has already decided to do. Tell me to trust my instincts. Tell me "just be patient and wait and see how it’ll turn out." Remind me it’ll be okay in just a few more days. I bet it will be.

***DISCLAIMER: But I just feel like rambling now, and it doesn’t mean it’s a big deal right, i just need some space to spill this out and isn’t this what blogs are for. I will not be judged by what i say, nor will the people I love be judged, for the troubles that come up in these entries are much larger than they appear [parang sa sideview mirror] simply because i’m a girl who exaggerates about supposedly small things; because i feel like my problems are bigger than everyone else’s, simply because they are my own. [Nakuha ko 'yan sa Ally McBeal; Ally, being the eternal narcissist, after asked by Georgia, "What makes you think that your problem is bigger than everyone else's?" Ally replies, a matter-of-factly, "They're mine."] Pardon me, just really feel like saying that and being like that tonight.

…the simple things in life become complicated.

Suppressed Happiness:
1. Low fat percentage.
2. How overtly concerned my boyfriend is about me being angry or irritated.
3. Sampling my experimental granola bar to friends, and receiving compliments for it.
4. Going to Gateway (hehe, the probinsyana in me strikes again)

Happiness not worth publicizing but won’t be suppressed if given the chance to be publicized:
1. Sweating in warm up.
2. Free lunch.
3. Naps.

Publicized Happiness:
1. Topping out the route.
2. Laughing over being accidentally, shockingly showered with coins.
3. Taking a cool, relaxed MRT ride (even if I was carrying three heavy packages!)

Suppressed, Genuine Happiness:
1. The bond between climbers.
2. Getting to know old acquaintances better.
3. Carrying a conversation about video games.
4. Running across an old schoolmate.
5. A patient, caring, supportive mom.

Publicized, Genuine Happiness:
1. Hugging a friend who I thought didn’t see me as a friend anymore.
2. Getting a really cute top for free!

…

I never thought happiness can be NOR should be categorized into such categories and degrees, but today, I just did…

I automatically put my MRT card on the backpocket of my jeans, but I didn’t have a backpocket that day so I opted to just hold on to the card with my hand. I dawdled with it; felt its rounded corners and slim but not razor-sharp edges; expertly bent it back and forth with one hand, as if a trick no other person could do; pinched it with my  thumb and middle finger, and pushed it with my forefinger to make it spin.

I wondered where other people put their MRT cards for the duration of the trip, and what they did with it. I saw some people keep it in their hands as I did, clutching it tightly as if it was a wild animal that could escape, or a valuable that will be stolen and ran off with. Some people put it back in their bags, the guys, in the front pocket of their polos. I remember, my sister puts it back in her wallet (something I consider a hassle cos you’d have to take it out of the bag and out of the wallet all over again). A girl who was chit-chatting loudly caught my attention and I saw as she cleared away some white crumbs off her pants. I focused as she resettled her left hand on her lap, and held her MRT card with her right. She gripped the card with three fingers and absent-mindedly grazed it on her left, middle finger nails.

She used it as a cuticle remover.

Good thing I never let those cards come anywhere near my mouth or face. I wonder what other ingenious uses those MRT cards have.

i can’t help but be detached from that evening.

it started off so wonderfully, full of smiling faces, sentimental songs, familiar expressions that have long been missed, and bundles of other joyful noise. then comes the text message, sudden and unexpected, that took  several minutes to absorb. first was sheer curiosity, followed by you-must-be-kidding-me disbelief, then numbness. then came then the sense of helplessness, then the reality of helplessness, and overwhelming guilt. it could’ve been the alcohol that delayed each rush of emotion. it also could’ve simply been me being me: crying at the lack of control over a situation. whatever the reason, i left the party in a daze, trying desperately hard to keep the tears from overflowing from the rim of my eyes. i ended up wiping each fallen tear with the back of my hands as i drove to roces through the pouring rain. ay, i never thought i could be such an actress. how pathetically dramatic can i get, right?

the scene at the station was surreal. it’s the only word to describe it. the room smelled of stuck, stale, damp, tension-filled air, testament to the lack of rest of the people routinely (or maybe, out of boredom) walking in and out its premises. mga undercover ba silang lahat? bakit walang naka-uniporme? it was silent and the atmosphere heavy, made darker by the depressing state of the facility’s equipment. i was there with my mom, sister, and about five of our staff, and bore witness as a young man was pulled out of the investigation unit for the staff’s scrutiny. pinagusapan yung lalaki na parang wala siya sa kwarto. inulit ang mga sinabi niya na parang kailangan niya ng translator, na parang walang saysay ang mga salitang pinili niyang gamitin upang ipaliwanag ang sarili. questions were thrown, statements were made, descriptions of men and motorcycles buzzed in my ear. as if earlier’s weeping drama wasn’t enough, i stood freezingly still that my nerves showed, trying to make sense of what i heard while another part of my brain ever-so-slowly took in the details of my surroundings in order to tweak my uneasy behavior.

kulang na lang talaga ay camera at naging parte na sana ako ng isang (mababaw) na pelikula.

As we grow older, please remind me never to lash out on my daughter, or any family member for that matter, just because she or they happened to approach me at a bad time. Please provide me with cues that will prevent me from taking out my frustrations and aggravations on people who have nothing to do with putting me in that sour, angry  state that they might catch me in. Because I find it unfair when people do that to other people–when parents, in particular, suddenly become disagreeable on things they are normally not bothered with, just because you accidentally chose to talk to them at a time that turns out to be "inopportune".

Please also remind me to make a big deal about birthdays. I remember my mom leaving me a note on the morning of my last one, apologizing for not having the time to line up anything special for that day. I remember how much it touched me to read that note, to have been caught off guard by the realization that I wanted my birthday to be special, despite of my conceived acceptance of how birthdays in our household are not showered with ribbons and parties nor any fantastic frills. A way of protecting myself from disappointment, I suppose. (Over the years, I’ve led myself to believe that birthdays don’t have to be celebrated with a bang because being surrounded by people who love me is enough of a gift, and to ask for more would be asking for too much.) It turns out that a person such as myself just simply cannot hide from the cultural hype of such days, and I’m sure the same goes for a lot of people. So please remind me to honor each of our loves ones on their special days, as my mom remembered me.

Also, please help me to remember how important it is to make a big deal out of life’s events, regardless of scale, and to always celebrate it together. I can’t get rid of the image of the Aldabas, and how much I love the sound of laughter that echoed from their Lola’s dining room to every other corner of the house. Remind me to rejoice and give thanks and make merry for all the things we have in our lives: A kid’s role in a school play (lead role or backstage); a new pet (dog, hamster, or tiger); cool toys and handy appliances; changing schools, courses or careers; adjustments, achievements, and movine on; skills (musical, academic, sports, or any quirky trick); experimental recipes or good old traditional meals; comfortable living space to accommodate the whole clan; enough food for each mouth and tummy; and the clan itself.

These are just three things that have occurred to me at one time or another, things that I feel I want for myself and my future family, for a healthy and happy relationship.

This post is not aptly titled for it’s no longer the morning. I’m actually referring to the state of being whenever one just got out of bed–usually occuring during the morning–but in my case, late mornings (or sometimes noon time already). Since I’m not really a morning person, or more accurately, a just-got-out-of-bed person, I find that I’m not completely myself during the period when I just got out of bed. I’m still in a transition phase from my nightly dreams to reality, half-heartedly consuming the text messages I read on the phone and the reminders my mom shouts to me. When I read the clock, time doesn’t sink in to me instantly; there’s almost always a five minute delay before it occurs to me that I better start pushing myself off the sheets if I want to accomplish something for the day. But even after I walk out my room, change clothes and go through the daily bathroom routine before going online to check my mail and browse some websites (the Internet routine, in other words), I still find myself dreamily reading through my newly arrived messages, carefully digesting the words and images I come across.  And as corny or pretentious as this may sound, things appear to be in slow motion, which makes me move at a snail’s pace as well. And, like in dreams, some realities are not what it should be: I do things that are out of the routine, and emotions are heightened by matters that don’t usually wind them up.

This morning, I received a Fiona Apple mailing list letter informing me of an upcoming album of one my favorite female artists. Out of the blue, I allow myself to click on the album link–a rare occasion as I seldom take on the links that are in my SPAM/forwarded mail folder. I even end up signing up my other email for another Fiona mailing list, as if one mailing list membership is not enough! I click on more links on her Sony Website–listening to some audio clips, reading through the message board and press releases. Whoa, suddenly i felt the information accumulating in my head too fast for my just-out-of-bed-head. Pag bagong gising talaga, slow pa. Needed to stop surfing.

Another email I received was from Miel, a link to the Yahoo! photos of his granddad’s 77th birthday. Miel was telling me about this the other day so I was really looking forward to browse through these pics. As I expected, there were lots and lots of pics documenting their every move–from every meal course to every activity. What I didn’t expect was to be moved by the pictures: An ENORMOUS family gathered around the table at all times, eating mounds and mounds of scrumptious food, singing happy birthday to their lolo, performing for their lolo, chatting and smiling and laughing and posing for the camera. The happiness radiated from the pictures, so much it brought a tear to my eye. Sheesh, lumabas na naman ang kababawan ni Elaina. But what can I say–having a big, happy, healthy family is truly one of the best things in life.

Which reminds me of something totally unrelated to this blog’s topic but i’ll put it in anyway: This one Indian father featured in Spellbound (the spelling documentary I was raving about) was rationalizing how much hard work he was putting into training and tutoring his son for the national finals. He said, "What good thing in life can you get without doing hard work?" (Ok not the exact words, but somethin like that). And I was staring at the screen, thinking, There’s a LOT of things!, FAMILY for one, you’re born into one, right, so you don’t have to work hard to get it! Hasn’t the dad heard of the saying, "The best things in life are free"?? …

Well, that’s just that. I have to eat lunch now. Gotta get out of this dream-to-reality transition phase.

I watched a cool documentary about 3 days ago, it’s called Spellbound and it’s about the US’ 1999 Scripps-Howard spelling bee. In order to capture the American sub-culture of spelling bees and the intense experiences of its participants, it focused on eight of the 249 (?) finalists, exploring their varying familial and racial backgrounds, socio-economic status, attitudes (both kids’ and parents’), and drive to win the contest. Watching the film was refreshing; I couldn’t remember any other time I watched something that dwells on a light topic (spelling bees) and have a light feel to it (it’s sprinkled with pleasant wit and humor all around!), yet turn out to be moving and leave me with an added resentment towards the English language.

The most obvious common ground I have with the kids is participation in a competition. Their different outlooks toward the spelling bee were all emotions I’ve felt (towards my own set of comps) at one point or another: Sometimes enthusiasm and a 100% drive to be on top, coupled with confidence and the fear of embarrassing myself in case I don’t end up winning; sometimes pessimism and pursuing things half-heartedly, expecting the worst to happen in order to be contented with whatever results; and most often apathy, or avoidance to feel any extreme positive or negative emotion and just really "go with the flow" and see how things will turn out. To add to the already-intense emotions of the kids, there are the feelings and opinions of parents on their kids’ situation, which are just ultimately different from one family to the other. There are the typical pressuring parents who review 4000 spelling words with their kids in one sitting, while there are those who let their kids study by themselves. Most parents admit the nervousness they feel about their kids joining such a prestigious event, and the fear they have that their kids will go home disheartened and let down, while some mask their feelings of vulnerability in order to stay strong and optimistic for their children. And just imagine, only 8 kids were focused in the film, which means there must be around 200 more ways of psyching oneself up for the national spelling bee!

Spelling bees are also things we’ve all come across during our grade school and high school days (naks parang ages ago na yung panahong ‘yon ah!), but I never did realize how big a thing it is in the United States. Funny pa yung kids, when they found out that the upcoming round was going to be aired live on ESPN (yup, it’s aired on ESPN so you might have seen this spelling bee one time in your life!), they jumped up and down as if they all won the contest already! It’s those details–it relieves me to see kids act like kids, no matter how geeky or nerdy or mature-like they might seem–to be enthralled by the mere idea of being aired live in national television. Back to spelling bees, I didn’t know it was such a big thing, and it surprised me how some kids made a career out of joining this competition. But the good thing about it was that the parents didn’t force their children to join it in the same way as some parents force their kids into the beauty pageant/model/actor/actress career. (Syempre,hindi natin alam kung nangyayari nga ito, pwedeng hindi ipinakita ng docu yung mga ganong instances, but from the looks of it, it WOULD be kind of complicated to force a kid who’s not into spelling to study gazillion lists of words, right?) Most parents seem to be aware that the Scripps-Howard is just a phase in their life–something to ultimately prepare for, whether they will win or not–but nevertheless a chance for them to work hard towards a goal. Winning will be sweet, but losing will be an experience in itself.

About resenting the English language. I’ve always read about how English is one of the hardest languages to learn, having so many language origins and too many exceptions to the rule (alam naman natin sa ating mga Spanish, German, Italian, etc. na may certain guides in remembering how to pluralize words or assigning genders, right? sa english, maraming tumataliwas sa mga guides na ito!) In Spellbound, I was upset by English pronunciation. It was crazy!!! Doon mo talaga mapapansin na walang rules. Minsan, mage-gets nung kids yung spelling dahil nalalaman nilang may French or Latin origin yung words and therefore using the spelling patterns in those languages, but in some cases, the origin of words are undetermined, and this is when the kids have to guess for their dear lives. I guess we’ve always known this, but after the movie, I was left with the lesson that in English, the letter a can take on the sounds of the letter e, o and u; the letter e can take on the sounds of a, i and u; the letter i can take on the sounds of e and u; the letter o can take on the sounds of a, long o’s and u; and the letter u can take on the sounds of i and long o’s. Double letters can sound like single letters, and vise versa. Double letters can sound like letters other than what it is composed of…And so on.

I’d like to tell more about the film but I’m afraid it’ll spoil the plot. May mix of excitement din kasi hindi mo alam kung sino don sa 8 kids and unang mae-eliminate at sinong matitira, and I wouldn’t want to give that away. However, kung nabitin ka dito, read the Spellbound review I found: Spellbound Review . Hindi sa amin yung DVD so hindi ko mapapahiram, magschedule na lang tayo ng viewing session kung may interesadong manood! Hehe.

Whenever I blog, I feel like I always wrap things up with a question. Maybe It’s because I consider my blog as a means for seeking advice, or for confirming the logic of my thought processes. I want to know if my feelings are valid or correct, if they’re ridiculously out-of-line or just natural. Siguro kasi ganito din ako nung meron pa akong journal. I used my journal as mirror of my thoughts, as a way for me to view myself from the eyes of the outsider. By spontaneously (and often incoherently) scribbling the sentiments that spurt from my every nerve, I get to piece together my puzzle of thoughts and finally understand the nature and meaning of my seemingly irrational behavior.

Naisip ko ‘to pagkatapos ko basahin ang entry ni Myra. Syempre napa-reflect ako sa mga sinusulat ko, at nagkaron din ng inspirasyon upang magsulat ng sarili kong entry. Kasi ilang araw ko na ring gusto magpost, ngunit lagi akong nahihinto sa pag-click sa "Quick Blogpost" link dahil biglaan din akong nawawalan ng gana dahil namomoroblema ako na baka wala namang saysay ako isusulat ko. Kagaya ng sinabi ni Myra, pag nagsusulat ako ng entry, feeling ko lagi kailangan ko iwrap-up yung sinusulat ko; feeling ko kailangan may point yung entry; na hindi pweden basta-basta lang magsulat…Shet, and isn’t this just totally against my former statement that I write entries for the purpose of reflection? Didn’t I just mention earlier how I have a journal so that I can write freely and "see myself from the outside"?

I guess that’s where the conflict comes in, ’cause (for me) it would be misleading to use the words "journal" and "blog" interchangably, for they are and will never be the same thing. As much as I would want to share pieces of myself to other people, or to my closest, most trusted friends even, in the way that I do in a private journal, the fact remains that a blog is public material, viewable by any person around the globe who has access to the Internet. In my case, the trouble usually is how I always write on the premise that I’m writing public material; I can’t seem to get it out of my head! And when I think "public material", it most often goes hand in hand with sensible writing, or writing to drive at a point. Kadalasan tuloy, nagtutunog essay yung sinusulat ko. (Hmmm, come to think of it, kahit entries ko sa journal ganito pala tunog! Laging may conclusion sa dulo, hehe). And since I’m not the best writer in the world, I find that my essays/entries begin to sound dull and repetitive…But screw that, right, it’s not a big deal. It’s just one of ‘em minuscule concerns that have crossed my mind maybe once or twice. But aside from this, I also catch myself putting some sort of disclaimer remarks (eg, "in my opinion", "i think", "in my case", "for me", "right now"), just in case some impulsive people might forget that this is MY blog and MY point of view in that certain moment and they shouldn’t judge me by single statement alone. And then of course there always seems to have the need to censor myself from mentioning certain names in fear of offending the person/s being talked about. And even if the portrayals are positive or far from being offensive, there’s the fear of offending them for the mere fact of openly talking about them WITH other friends, (parang pinagtsi-tsismisan ba).

I know they’re small things of concern, and they haven’t really setup a camp and rallied in my mind. But the fact that they crossed my mind even once makes me wonder if it is a sign of being overly self-conscious. Am I being too concerned about what other people think? Is this a sickness, or is this just a natural means of protecting one’s image and reputation in the eyes of total strangers, new acquaintances, and not-so-close friends who one day, might just happen to drop by my blog and suddenly see the mess-of-a-mind that I have?

Hay naku, sa dami ng nasabi ko tungkol sa pagbo-blog na hindi ko na nasabi yung mga gusto ko talagang ikwento. Nagmamadali na rin ako kasi kailangan ko ng umalis ng bahay for a launching of a new set of artworks at the 2nd floor cafe. Siguro mamayang gabi ko na lang isusulat yung mga gusto ko talagang ikwento, pagbalik ko sa bahay.

In fairness, I felt relief in writing this entry. I tried my best to limit my self-censoring and self-editing, and it feels good. Thanks din for the inspiration, My.

It is marked by getting an average of 10 hours sleep every night, exclusive of hourly nap/s within the day or lengthened bed time spent rolling and warming myself up within  blankets as a result of the current cold, stormy weather. It doesn’t help either that my bed’s headboard is positioned right in front of a screened window where gusts of wind and rain can be witnessed, playing up the aptness of staying in bed for as long as the downpour holds up.

All in between, my mind is engaged in an analytical battle of whether or not that amount of rest is deserved–or even healthy–only extending my body’s idle period as it sits around, lies around, and salutes the white ceiling while the quarreling mind continues to pursue a state of agreement.

As my body tires of waiting for my mind to settle on the correctness of the situation, my mind resolves to jumpstart productivity by forcing my body to literally jump out of bed. By doing so, it hopes to fool my body into thinking that it is ready for some creative-, technical-, and critical-thinking action, and gets me to move my ass from the bedroom to the bathroom to the laptop. (The bathroom for brushing the teeth and washing my face, and the laptop for surfing and doing additional research work assigned by the Corporation.) Having breakfast or any bite to eat in the kitchen is deleted from the morning routine with wakeup time occurring between 10am to 12pm, so my body manages to wait for lunch time for replenishment.

With the laptop on and connected to the world wide web, certain routines come into play: Turn on YM, see who’s online, check for email. The supposedly quick routines take longer than they should–whether accidental or deliberate, I’m not sure–but they remain preoccupations until my stomach calls for the first meal of its day.

About meals, nowadays, they also take longer than they usually do. What used to take me fifteen minutes to do now lasts up to an hour, with the TV now turned on to watch Jay Leno reruns or beloved Jamie Oliver’s The Naked Chef. The dining room has become a place to temporarily hang out in, with no business to rush back into at the 2nd floor "workplace". Sooner or later, to my relief, my mind manages to convince my body to drag its unwilling parts up the stairs and onto the office chair, saying: "Tama na ang pabanjing-banjing, ang dami mo ng tulog at pahinga, oras na para magtrabaho. Alam kong kaya mo magtrabaho kasi nga ang dami mo ng pahinga. Starting to work is always the hard part, and once you’re over that, you’ll be on a roll. Sige na, subukan mo man lang magumpisa, kaya mo ‘yan."

Fooling my body to research and type shows to be a harder trick to pull, my mind realizes. It is so preoccupied on convincing the body about the importance and urgency of starting on responsibilities that no energy is left for doing the actual work. Furthermore, the fact that my mind failed to reconcile its earlier analytical battle only left it in a corruptible state. With the mind itself not convinced of the wrongness of not doing anything and sleeping in all day, it is prone to distractions of the digital kind (e.g., MP3s, computer games, blogs). In short, my mind and body inevitably end up adjusting every detail alterable on the iTunes; clicking staccatos in presto tempo in a struggle to save Ancient Egypt from certain doom; and hungrily feeding on every blog the browser lands on. As a team, my mind and body does things that it wants to do, with no thought ofexisting responsibilities and tasks at hand; of long-term development, goals and consequences; nor of Onyok’s comment that I look like I’m getting fat!

Before I know it, the afternoon is over it’s time for me to go to the gym and get my dose of climbing. I even almost always leave the house half an hour late for playing Luxor or reading blogs "overtime". Before leaving, I fix myself up a sandwich or whatever fruit I can dig up in the fridge to make sure I don’t get hungry while I train. I get to the gym, climb my heart out, have dinner with Miel (out with friends or at home) and get settled in the house by around 11pm. I start playing Luxor again and stop after an hour, at the least. I take a leisurely bath scrubbing chalk and dirt off my skin. I sleep past midnight, and wake up 10 hours later.

And my mind continues to wonder: Do I deserve resting this much? Is human hibernation even healthy? Why do I lack the drive to fulfill my responsibilities? Should I feel guilty about all this? Why does it feel so good to stay in the house, watch TV, sleep and not think about anything? Why am I not fearful of going overboard with procrastination? Why do I enjoy being a slob? …Hay… Nakakapagod magisip. Maka-pahinga nga muna.

Been preoccupied but been wanting to post. Ito na muna, as I was tagged by Chin. Masaya din naman, the questions on "lies and truths" and "what makes you stereotypically a girl/boy" are interesting and quite new in these surveys, too.

———
three names you go by:
1. ina (for most people)
2. nga (for power up climbers)
3. bei (for my family)

three screen names you have had:
1. clover
2. clobber
3. daffodil

three physical things you like about yourself:
1. nails (wala lang, i like their shape)
2. fingers (long and strong for climbing and playing the piano)
3. hips (perfect for giving birth)

three physical things you don’t like about yourself:
1. skin (genetically prone to diseases!)
2. nose (been teased by my siblings as lacking a bridge…hrmph, as if sa kanila mataas!)
3. feet (too big; toes too long and full of callouses)

three parts of your heritage:
1. workaholic parents
2. singkit eyes from mom side, but unaware of any trace of Chinese blood…
3. the Flores nails! the Apelo hips! (ooops, more than three)

three things that scare you:
1. letting people down
2. frogs
3. Sadako

three of your everyday essentials:
1. tissue
2. pen
3. recently, a dose Luxor/Zuma

three of your favorite musical artists:
1. sarah mclachlan
2. eraserheads
3. foo fighters

three of your favorite songs: (naku, ito lang naiisip ko sa ngayon…)
1. "i can see clearly now"
2.  "crush" by dave matthews band
3. "fine time" by the eraserheads

three things you want in a relationship: (aside from love…)
1. patience
2. respect
3. spontaneity (ako rin ha, chin), or occasional breaks from routine

three lies and truths in no particular order:
lies
1. i’m strong
2. i’m directed
3. i have a "wild" side

truths
1. i’m selfish
2. i’m impatient!
3. i’m blessed, thankful everything and everyone around me

three physical things about the opposite sex that appeals to you:
1. smile
2. muscles, particularly the abs (*hay* due to constant exposure to them, i believe)
3. strong arms and hands (nyek, na-obvious na)

three of your favorite hobbies:
1. rummaging through old documents and memories while cleaning my room
2. reading on my bed with the book propped up on a pillow over my stomach
3. TV and movie marathons on a comfy bed or sofa

three things you want to do really badly now:
1. learn HTML
2. get good at yoga (impatience showing…)
3. get DSL for the house

three careers you’re considering/you’ve considered:
1. work in an airline company (childhood dream–travel perks!)
2. any job in Discovery travel shows i.e., Lonely Planet
3. event organizing

three places you want to go on vacation:
1. Thailand (for beach and climbing)
2. Spain (for culture and climbing)
3. Brazil (for nature and the Amazon river)

three kid’s names you like: (i have NEVER thought about this, sorry!)
1.
2.
3.

three things you want to do before you die:
1. establish any form of public service institute
2. go the places where i want to go for vacation
3. have any written work of mine published (still don’t know exactly what kind, though!)

three ways that you are stereotypically a girl:
1. i am overanalytical
2. i can get overly (physically) self-conscious
3. i love romantic (but not cheesy!) movies

three ways that you are stereotypically a boy:
1. pride
2. i can get tired of girlish whispering and gossiping
3. i curse

three celeb crushes: (Hmmmmm…..wala akong maisip dito ah)
1. Brad Pitt
2. Jerome Meyer (celeb na sya para sa akin)
3. Ewan Mcgregor

my turn to tag…
1. Miel (kahit wala siyang blog)
2. Cams
3. Mitzi