25 Random Things About Moi

Just sharing something that has been going around Facebook for weeks now. So here goes:

Rules: Once you've been tagged, you are supposed to write a note with 25 random things, facts, habits, or goals about you. At the end, choose 25 people to be tagged. You have to tag the person who tagged you. If I tagged you, it's because I want to know more about you.

To do this, go to "notes" under tabs on your profile page, paste these instructions in the body of the note, type your 25 random things, tag 25 people (in the right hand corner of the app) then click publish.

1. I am banlag. For those who do not know, banlag is the opposite of cross-eyed. In my case, caused by watching TV sideways. Though no doctor has ever confirmed this.
2. I’m always on a high after a videoke night. Yes, even if I never hit the high notes or any notes for that matter.
3. I had piano lessons with a lola for six years and had secret hopes of becoming a virtuoso which, of course, did not materialize.
4. I was a quiz bee champion. In Philippine History. I lost the division level—2 steps before national level—to a very easy question that I overlooked while reviewing. My mother was furious.
5. Every night for more than a month, my husband Nubs and I never missed a viewing of Across the Universe, either the making or the movie itself.
6. I started smoking at age 13 and quit only when my father was diagnosed with lung cancer.
7. I have not forgiven the adult person who, on several occasions, was deliberately unkind to my little Indie. Hell hath no fury like a mother whose child was scorned.
8. I am a certified hothead.
9. On the other hand, I can be very charming when I choose to be—at Customs when I’m carrying excess baggage or at flea markets when I’m haggling for something I’m dying to get my hands on.
10. I used to be quite good at billiards.
11. My most embarrassing moment was standing under the rain somewhere near the Sunken Garden with suds in my hair. (No, don’t blame it on the rain. Blame it on the shower gel that I grabbed when I ran out of gel!)
12. I honestly enjoy doing any domestic chore that involves water. Washing clothes. Cleaning the bathroom. Anything.
13. Tell me a secret and I will bring it to my grave. As in.
14. Many times I have been called a bad influence. But that remains to be proven. Haha!
15. As I push 40, age has become a consideration when I’m shopping for clothes. And yes, shoes. I have this feeling that one cannot get away with everything upon reaching a certain age. I am not Madonna, after all.
16. A psychic friend once told me that I have powers the same as hers.
17. I am a shameless kuripot. I’m a sucker for bargains. And a “sale” sign is enough to send me into frenzy.
18. A good conversation is enough to keep me entertained on a night out. Alcohol is now just an option.
19. I have survived the first 38 years of my life without seafood and vegetables. And I just turned 38 late last year.
20. I need funny people in my life.
21. I wish I were all grown-up during the 60s and the 70s.
22. I am extremely close to my sisters. And I absolutely adore my nephews and niece.
23. I would like to believe that I’m a very reliable friend.
24. I’m on to something that I should have done before. But I ain't telling. Yet.
25. This is my second life. Period.

All I Really Need to Know I Did Not Learn in Kindergarten

With due respect to Mr. Fulghum, of course. As far as I'm concerned, significant life lessons are those that I grasped, not from the early years before grade school, but from the second half of my 38 years in this world.

1. Do not confuse spirituality with religiosity. The former can stand without the latter.
2. Laugh. The louder the better.
3. Conventions are made to be broken away from.
4. It is of utmost importance to have a mind of your own.
   
5. Your present actions cannot forever be reactions to whatever wrongs you had to suffer in the past. Likewise, you have to stop seeing yourself as a victim.
6. Kindness is a virtue that should be shown to others as well as the self.
7. Walls are best built around homes, not around your person. If you know what I mean.
8. Anger is an ugly feeling. But people who make you angry are way uglier. Haha.
9. Never stay angry for long with people who matter. You are sure to regret it one day.
10. Forgive and forget is a fallacy. Otherwise, how will you ever learn?
11. There will always be people who are unhealthy for you. Let them go. And when they come knocking on your door, make sure it is locked.
12. Get out of your parents' sphere of influence as early as possible. It is a strain to live with someone who is still there.
13. Taking responsibility for anyone or anything is key to growing up.
14. When you're feeling tired, rest. Take a breather. Disappear.
15. Excess baggage is bound to pull you down. Unload.
16. Being jaded is a curse. Don't be.
    
17. Fighting for what you believe in may not always turn out all right.
18. Knowing when something or someone is not worth it is crucial at all points in your life.
19. There are times when it is easier to walk away than to stay.
20. The ego can be your worst enemy.
21. When your world is falling apart, a change in perspective is in order.
22. Self-respect is essential to survival.
23. Happiness is not a product of the mind. It is gone the moment you rationalize it.
24. Money is not everything. But never forget that man lives, first and foremost, on bread.
25. Time is the most precious commodity in the universe. And, yes, it cannot be bought, especially if you're not filthy rich.
26. Save your favorite books. They can be worthy companions in old age.
27. The future is best viewed with an open mind.
28. Girl bonding — and bonding with male friends — is necessary for sanity's sake. At least once every quarter, please.
29. The truth hurts most of the time. Be prepared not to tell people you care about if they are not ready for it.
30. Hasty decisions more often than not lead to difficult situations. Caution is not a bad thing, you know.
    
31. Expectations can ruin relationships. Keep them moderate.
32. Even the smartest of women can be fools for love. Just stay smart.
33. It is better to give than to receive. Who cares if it's the corniest line on earth?
34. The principle of non-attachment becomes harder to apply once you bring a child into the world.
35. Parenting is all about unconditional love. Period.
36. To have someone to care for, like a child born from you, is life's ultimate blessing.
37. Take every effort to be thankful. For everything.
38. There are more lessons to come as you gain years and wisdom. Be open.

Quite a long list actually. But then again what you know is only as good as what you practice. And this is where the real challenge lies.

Hitting 40

I've always thought 40 was old. I mean that was how I saw it when I was in my teens. But here I am now, light years away from teenage-hood and but a mere 2 years to 40.

No, 40 is not old. Not at all. While it seems people you come across with are getting younger and younger, one cannot discount the fact that there are still a lot of people a lot older than you are. At this age, one can still do many things. Launch a new career. Move to another country. Switch faiths. Fall in love again. A lot of better things to do. Other than obsessing about looking younger.

Yes, younger. Simply because today's women, poor us, are bombarded with a steady stream of propaganda that shuns aging and the wrinkles and marks that come alongside it. (Talk about emancipation of the female species!) "It's okay to be 40 as long as you look 30," goes a line from a TV ad. What the hell is that supposed to mean?

Is it not okay to be 40 if you look it? Or is it not okay to be 40 per se?

What in the world is wrong with 40? Frankly, I don't see any reason to fuss about turning 40 or 50 or 60 for that matter. Aging is a natural process that comes hand in hand with living. Only the dead stop getting older, right?

Okay, if it's the looks department you're worried about — sure, you've got a point. But hey, one doesn't have to take this age-defying business a little too seriously. Your costly cream erases one line on your forehead, another one manifests itself. No overpriced high-tech concoction can ever stop the hands of time, no matter what.

And the good news, these brand campaigns are totally missing something. Like, it's not impossible to be beautiful even if you look your age. Lines, crow's feet, dark spots and all.

Because when you're a little older — and yes, wiser — beauty ceases to be skin deep. It starts to emanate from within. And please, I'm not trying to be anything here. It's just that, when you're 40, you're no longer a girl, obviously. So it's not about pretty-ness anymore. It's all about character. Substance.

So what if your face is unmarked by age if you haven't made a single mark in anybody's life? So what if you take good care of your skin if you haven't cared for anyone other than yourself?

Come on.

My Mama is My Yaya

So said my 3-year old Indie to a small circle of yayas gathered around her one morning in the compound where we live. The women were aghast, maybe thinking that the yaya label my daughter bestowed on me was both insulting and demeaning.

Yaya. Someone paid to mother our children. Is there indignity there?


I am a proud hands-on parent and I "yaya" my one and only child full-time without feeling inferior or inadequate in any way. I have always seen myself as a mother hen and I find great pleasure in taking care of somebody other than myself. I thrive on it, in fact. It naturally follows then that I will make it my duty to raise my own child with my own two hands, without having to place this wonderful task in another person's hands.


Yes, I don't go to work anymore. Yet I haven't worked this hard in my entire life. My current job description is boundless and all-encompassing. What I have now is a 24/7 career. I am on call even on holidays. There are no sick leaves for me, much less vacation leaves. Promotions don't happen either. You start and end with the same title. To top it all, there is no room for resignation or early retirement; it's the kind of work that follows you to the grave.


No matter, mothering my little one, to me, is the most rewarding, most fulfilling job in the world. Paychecks arrive not every 15 days but everyday, every hour even. And they come in the form of hugs and kisses and a thousand I love yous.

Issues of Weight

I was a 90-lb. teenager who grew into a 104-lb. twenty-something who grew into a 108-lb. married woman who grew into a 150-lb. mommy-to-be. I was 132 lbs. or thereabouts the day I officially became a mother. I did manage to weigh 5 lbs. less within a year which was pathetic really. But a few months after my baby's first birthday, I was losing at an astonishing rate of 3 lbs. per week. No pills. No diets. No exercise.

No cause for celebration though. Turned out I was sick with hyperthyroidism. And the sad part? I had developed a mound at the base of my throat that required me to take steroids for quite some time. And the sadder part? Steroids withdrawal gave me back all the weight I lost and much, much more.

And so continues the story of my 3-year-and-still-going battle against the bulge. I'm afraid this is going to be lengthy for my bring-me-back-to size-2 attempts were anything but successful and therefore numerous and varied.

No effect from Time Works FX. Don't get me wrong. I'm not putting the blame on the helpless machine. As you'll find out as you read on, the blame is always on who else but... me. I discovered Time Works FX on home TV shopping and was immediately drawn to it not by the six-pack abs of the persons paid to make a testimonial for it but by the seeming ease with which they worked the bike-like contraption. No sweat, I told myself only to find out after buying it, of course, that it was much more difficult than I imagined. I couldn't work out on it for longer than 4 minutes, one more minute and I'd die. So the killer machine was soon neglected then abandoned then finally moved out of sight, currently a worthless heap in the storeroom being eaten away by God-knows-what. A complete waste of hard-earned cash with no returns whatsoever.

No to no-carbs-no-sugar diet. I tried this years back when I was a lot thinner but still couldn't afford an ounce of extra fat on a trip to Bora. Why didn't I think of it sooner? Hoping to duplicate the positive outcome of that first try, I gave it another shot and totally forgot about the downside. The complete absence of carbohydrates could make you dizzy for the whole 2-week duration of the diet. By the second day, I gave up. You could hardly take care of the little baby when your head was reeling, right? Bummer.

(Beer)Bellydancing. This, I believe, was my cheapest endeavor, my only expense being a VCD, no make that 2 that cost me only a couple of hundreds. Coming from a financial standpoint, I thought it was perfect, considering that it was also a good fun way to do something about my sagging abs and disappearing waist. The result? Hilarious as I never was a good dancer. I suffered from sore muscles. And oh what an eyesore I made! A sorry attempt really. Thank goodness I had enough sense not to buy the silly costume.

Cynical about Xenical. I figured this could be the easiest way out of my overweight state. Just part with some cash, around 40 pesos after every meal and part with some lbs. But it wasn't that simple. Taking Xenical was like guzzling a shot of cooking oil mixed with taba ng talangka that went straight out of your you-know without announcing itself. I had no choice but to wear my ever reliable Modess overnights day in and day out to make sure that there were no tell-tale fatty orange deposits on my, well, behind. By month's end, I had what I decided to be Xenical-induced palpitations which meant saying goodbye to the famous pill. Talk about blessings in disguise! Actually, I was getting tired of my day to day efforts at saving my ass, I mean literally.

The treadmill dread. I was over the Time Works blunder and was raring for a new exercise tool. My husband Nubs was hesitant at first. The treadmill after all was pricier than its killer-machine-turned-storeroom-occupant predecessor. However, the offer at 0% interest for 12 months was irresistible so in no time, we were back home setting up our new fitness baby. In six months, it was pretty obvious it was going to share the same fate as Time Works. To make sure our precious money won't go down the drain a second time, I quickly sold the idle machine to a friend at three quarters of its original price. Not bad I'd say. Not much financial loss. But zero weight loss. Not bad? Yeah right.

No too to no-rice diet. No rice was not so different from no carbs, with the same dizzying effect. Thus, attempt dropped as soon as it was started.

Half-hearted half-rice diet. Since I failed at the former, might as well try the more viable version. No pain. And yes, no gain. Or should I say no loss.

Death by lemon juice diet. This was by far my boldest and most ambitious project. A series of aborted ventures called for drastic measures. Strictly no food, just limitless intakes of water and tea plus 6 to 12 servings of lemon juice made from 2 tablespoons organic lemon juice, 2 tablespoons maple syrup, 1/10 teaspoon cayenne and 10 ounces distilled water. I found that the more I took of the foul-colored liquid, the more disgusting it became. What was worse, within just twelve hours of the supposed 10-day period, my eyes turned hot and watery, my legs felt weak and my head pounded like hell. I heard enough horror stories—about obsessed girls who forced alien diets on their bodies then ended up dead—not to get, well, scared. A picture of a motherless Indie came to mind so I rushed to the nearest restaurant and stuffed myself with two whopping corned beef pandesals. Pounding gone, strength restored, I knew I was never in any serious danger of death. It was just my alibi.

These days I have been experimenting on a self-invented diet specially designed for hopeless weight-loss fanatics like moi. I call it the no-rice-when-I-can-but-yes-rice-when-ulam-is-hard-to-resist diet. Given my lack of willpower in the face of gastronomic threats, I'm proud to say I'm doing quite well. I'm not sure though if this is bringing me any closer to my goal. I promised myself this is a temporary thing... Until a more practicable diet comes along... Or perhaps a friendlier machine to work on... Sigh.

And so I ask myself, will I ever be slim again?

Honestly?

Fat chance.

A Scar Is Born

It's bikini season once again and to be honest, I'm not so thrilled. Well, to be very honest, it's because there just below my navel is a scar between 2 and 3 inches long, an ugly horrible mark where Indie came from.

Hell, who would have thought that in this day and age one could still get scars like this from C-section! When I woke up from my drugged stupor that day, the first thing that entered my mind—well, of course next to the baby—was the wound. I remember slowly reaching down to feel it with my hand and finding out to my horror that the bandage protecting it was not horizontal. It was, Oh God, vertical. I remember closing my eyes and praying it was just another one of those drug-induced dreams.

The silent anger over a bikini cut that didn't happen quickly dissipated the minute I saw the baby, baby Indie with the darkest eyes and the loveliest cheeks. She was definitely worth the... how did they call that cut anyway?

I was so into my baby and the excitement of motherhood that thoughts of the soon-to-be scar were somehow pushed down the bottom of my brain, albeit temporarily. But then exactly fourteen days after my giving birth, the moment of truth came, rather too early actually. It was time to take the bandage off, time for me to lay my eyes for the first time on the dreaded scar. It was still a bit fresh. Unsightly no doubt. No, hideous. That I was not ready for it was an understatement.

After that day, everything just seemed to sag. My face. My neck. My boobs. My stomach. Plus, of course there was my ego.

For a self-confessed manic-depressive, I'd say I got over it pretty fast. Like a week, two weeks. All right, a month maybe. Still! Postpartum depression could be a lot worse than that. It could only be Indie. She was so adorable she could make me forget about a lot of things. Like scar serums. Plastic surgeons. And oh yes, even bikinis.

Not completely though. But over the years I have learned to accept that looking for the right bikini would be a persistent problem, a problem which I believe will not go away until I near perhaps my mid-50s. Thank God for the return of the maillot. But then again I have yet to find the right maillot for me. But that I suppose is another story.

I'm proud to say I have learned to live with my scar. The love-hate relationship is to be expected. I can be a vain woman after all. That it will be with me till the day I die does not give me cause for hyperventilation, not anymore. Of course, I still find it ugly. But what scar is pretty? It is no beauty mark but a mark nonetheless, the single indelible mark of my humble contribution to the circle of life.

Bond Girls

Girl bonding—whether a long lunch, several hours of shopping, a night out or a weekend out of town—is a sure way to recharge oneself, a way to re-connect not just with the girls but also with the inner woman in you.

Married for six years and with a two-and-a-half year old toddler, I have always found comfort in every reunion with my girlfriends. I met them many years ago, when my sense of feminine power was at its strongest, when together we all felt we could take on the world and conquer, well, all men.

Time has changed all that. Indeed, I married one of them. So did most of my girlfriends. We found that men could actually be good for us. But no matter how great our men were, we always maintained that extra space, that extra time to be among us girls, all by ourselves.

When I look at my little girl, my mini-me, I can already see her forming her own bonding set in the not-so-distant future. And like the mother that I am, I see myself sharing with her my tips for the next generation of bond girls.

1. Count out friends who are too busy getting rich. They probably won't have time.

2. Find friends with good memory. It's always fun to reminisce.

3. Pick friends with a great sense of humor. Laughter, as they say, is still the best medicine.

4. Stick to friends who have a strong sense of self. It will rub off on you.

5. Surround yourself with friends who don't stop at getting more out of life. They will inspire you.

6. Choose husbands who appreciate and respect your womanhood. They surely won't mind the time you spend with the girls.

7. Keep husband bashing at a moderate level but never drop it altogether. It is healthy, really.

8. Don't turn girl bonding into an opportunity to bitch. That's negative energy.

9. Make sure that bonding time is never too often. You'll value it more.

10. Maintain life-long friendships with girls who also love themselves. That's where girl power comes from.

Take a break from married like. Bond with the girls. Come to think of it, it will actually keep your marriage intact.