Determined

She woke me up early today to watch the first screening of “Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen,” and incidentally, the first time in my whole life that I watched a movie on its first day of screening, and the very first screening at that.

We were too early. The mall was still closed. So we dropped by the nearby Starbucks branch. All along I was thinking she would be ordering her usual iced espresso, but today, she ordered an ensaymada for us two and a chocolate donut for Gabby. I also ordered a cup of brewed coffee to perk me up.

After noticing two different people wearing the same shirts and after finishing up the chocolate donut, we went to the mall that just opened and went straight to the ticket booth. Alas, the booth was still closed. We were also told that moviegoers would only be treated to a single screening (tough luck: I was planning to watch it twice).

With a bucket of popcorn we went in and enjoyed three solid hours of entertainment. Outside, “Transformers” merchandise was on display, and she promptly bought two shirts for her and Gabby. Tough luck again for me since they were not selling a shirt that would fit me.

She was determined though to buy me a new shirt. Side story: two officemates of mine already have shirts that are similar to what I have in the closet, and those shirts are the ones that I regularly wear at work.

After failing to find a suitable shirt for me at a popular boutique that catered to the stars of a broadcasting giant, I found a shirt that fit me, a black shirt with a large skull design out front, at a boutique that catered to rock stars and their ilk.

She was also in the mood to have some cake. We dropped by our favorite bakeshop at the mall, and brought home a lovely roll of chocolate caramel cake (As of this writing, the cake still sits untouched in the ref. We’re too full to take a bite).

We three went home fully satiated. I still had to cook spaghetti for her, and she still had to check on her finances.

With a half-roll of cake and a bunch of spaghetti noodles, we braved the light rain to visit my mother-in-law. We also took some time to play with Butchoi the family dog, who stayed behind at my in-laws’ house since he did not have that big space to run around at our apartment.

Afterwards, we left Gabby with my in-laws and went to the bank to withdraw funds. We went back to the mall, where we bought a tub of ice cream for ourselves and two blouses and hair dye for her mother.

Back at my in-laws’ house, she gave the blouses and the hair dye to her mother and picked up Gabby. We spent the night eating spaghetti, ice cream, and re-telling our favorite “Transformers” scenes.

Right now, she’s playing Sims 3, her favorite addiction. And me? Here, sitting this blog entry, enjoying how this day had transpired.

Her birthday.

Happy birthday, Alisa. Happy birthday, my TRUTH. This is truly a day I’m grateful for.

the year's almost out

2008 has been a good year, for all its ups and downs, for all its caboodles and oodles. Lemme count what I got this year:

>> a second happy year of marriage to a woman I happily love
>> my own website!
>> getting a job I really like, and all its attendant "motivations:" job security, medical coverage, mandatory benefits
>> use of a Mac (and for a country like us, that would really be something for an entry-level middle class worker like me)
>> a red street bike (a cross-over between a mountain bike and a racing bike)
>> Red Ezra, my noble Yamaha Nouvo SE

Materially, I have been successful. So far, I've been able to sustain a family and give some help to my parents. Spiritually... well, there's the rub.

This ain't about religion, though. There's a deep river between going to church assiduously and being emotionally, intellectually, spiritually enriched.

This is something we argue about, me and wifey: the old life I had. The old, unsustainable lifestyle that I had.

No, I'm no junkie. I'm no alcoholic, either. I WAS a poet, a musician, a writer. It was true that I lived on a meager salary, it was true that I had no cares about the strings (or ropes, actually) that this society, and the world in general, tie us down with.

I find it difficult to juggle the responsibilities I have now and the need of my "old" soul for literature, for poetry, for good food, for good music. A "clean, well-lighted place," as Hemingway wrote.

I complain that I have no time, but in reality, all the time for rest that I get I de-stress myself, which is just a painkiller, a remedy before the real burn-out happens.

How I thank God though to have given me someone that never tires to make me laugh. If she reads this, she'd tell me I'm ranting again, depressing myself again. Hahaha. And then she'll pinch my lovehandles, and kiss my nose. And then I go laugh uncontrollably.

Yep. I don't know what's with the nose, but a kiss on mine tickles me. She discovered it.

Route 28 - The First Long Ride

Just bought a road bike last Monday. The chain unfortunately broke that same night. Anyway, that made an excuse for me to buy a genuine Shimano chain. At least I have a Shimano part lurking in my bike, right?

My route took me from my home in northern Pasig to my parents' home in southern Pasig. The trip totaled almost 12 miles, which roughly translates to 19 kilometers.

View Larger Map

Seem daunting? In the past I was able to ride a mountain bike to Imus, Cavite from Mandaluyong, and back, when the coastal road was still open to all vehicles.

Road biking has been a passion of mine. Maybe it's just my itchy feet, but nothing beats the feeling of air rushing through one's ears as one pedals his/her way.

I also don't want to grow old with aching joints.

On a Roll!

Alisa's on a roll!

In a span of a few weeks, she has established two new blogs for her (and for our friends) to enjoy -- Thumbbook and Litrato at Iba Pa, both hosted at Wordpress.com.

Do pay these blogs a click -- you won't regret it. Part of why I fell in love with Alisa in the first place was her quasi-humorous style of writing (quasi since it reads funny, but is actually serious). Gets?

Describe love.

I haven't written about you for such a long time now. By now you should know why, or perhaps you have forgotten why.

I'll reminisce, then. I remember you asking me why I haven't written a poem for so long (except for the one I emailed to myself the other day). I simply answered you, "I have difficulty in describing indescribable happiness."

I have difficulty describing my teary-eyed moments with you, while our laughter fills the whole house.

I have difficulty describing the kisses you plant all over my face, and how I would laugh uncontrollably whenever you plant a kiss on my nose (a ticklish part I never knew until you discovered it).

I have difficulty describing how I feel whenever you look at me, whenever you pout, whenever you gently hit my arm... let's just say whenever I say you're cute at what you're doing, it's exactly that -- I find it cute whenever you look at me, whenever you pout, whenever you gently hit my arm.

And then, every now and then, after all my difficulty in describing my indescribable happiness, you ask me if I'll ever grow tired of you.

Let's just say I prefer to be happy eternally, even if I can't describe it.

Caleruega on a hill

A rotunda in a cul-de-sac fronting the administration office that looks like a church perched on a hill welcomes you to the retreat that is Caleruega.

Coming off the Silang exit along the Southern Luzon Expressway, a two-hour drive takes you to this spiritual haven that can also be an available venue for your commercial functions, be it for your company's spiritual retreat, or an escapist wedding set in the midst of lush, green surroundings.

Inside the administration building, a chapel dedicated to Mary Magdalene takes you for a surprise, and your thoughts begin to swirl around the debate whether she was the Messiah's wife or a plain prostitute rescued.

Nevertheless, the whole Caleruega experience can literally take your breath away on any non-rainy day, as you walk up towards the chapel itself located on the topmost hill, and then walk towards the hanging bridge on the very fringes of the Caleruega estate, only to walk up again the steep incline towards your car parked in the busy rotunda in the cul-de-sac fronting the administration office.

Caleruega is not commuter-friendly. Located in Nasugbu, Batangas, just a few meters away from the boundary of Alfonso, Cavite, the haven sits behind a golf club. One can easily miss Caleruega altogether, since only a small arrow perched on an electric post along the national highway points to the direction of the golf club's gate. Not one notice tells the commuter that one has to pass through the golf club's gates to reach Caleruega. Upon reaching Caleruega, that's the time you get to know how to reach Caleruega, through a map in the brochure that tells you how to reach Caleruega. Don't forget to pay the 50-peso fee per head, and sorry, no discounts for kids.

Pabrika Imagery is now officially under construction

My road to entrepreneurship is still going. And I can see that the road, although it reaches far into the horizon, is almost obstacle-free.

After successfully making an exchange deal with Pinoy Press, I am now fully underway into constructing my very own website.

On my links tab on the left you'll see Pabrika Imagery on top of the list.

Much work still needs to be done, especially with the conceptualizing and all the bells and whistles that we're planning to put up on the site, but at least I have quietly launched my groundbreaking ceremony.

We have successfully registered the company with the Department of Trade and Industry, and now I still need to get permits from the City Mayor's office and the local Bureau of Internal Revenue.

And hopefully, by the end of this year, I can confidently call myself a businessman.

Some things on my mind

There are some things on my mind right now, and the rains, the pouring rains are just keeping me whoozy. I am planning to cook champorado (by the way, champorado goes best with rains, and I don't like mixing it with tuyo).

My stepson and my niece are laughing heartily in the background, while Alisa takes her time in having her rest. She's feeling sick with all the rains and all the stress that goes with her job, and she has to be strong enough to go to work tonight. I don't know what will champorado do for her, but then again, mixing chocolate with rice is a miracle, a delicious confrontation between the Orient and the Occident.

Christmas has been a very merry one, while the New Year celebrations heralded another new year for new ideas and new friends.

So many ideas are brewing now, so many ideas that need to be born, to be raised, and to be taken for the world to see.

Just this week we bought a magazine's maiden issue, and that maiden issue excited us with competition, with a resolve to do something better with what we had bought (Basically, we bought that magazine out of sheer curiosity).

And of course, time has that fearless job of murking things up. We cannot attend the supposed brainstorming sessions we had scheduled for today due to Alisa's condition, and thus the birth of a very, very exciting idea must wait for another week.

This project will be born, not only due to our sheer determination to make better stuff, but also to deliver to the Fates what they had brought to our very feet in the first place. Oh, abstract as it may sound and as it may read, but giving birth to a very exciting idea gets my adrenaline going. It is just Father Time telling us, make it good while I slow it down.

Look at what I found this Christmas

For Christmas, I bought myself something I've been missing all these years. It is not that expensive, but it is really hard to find -- happiness.

Being a complete family this Christmas season has enabled me to find happiness in my families, in the company of friends I have kept all through these years, and among my colleagues and associates I have returned to here.

There are new cherished friends, and some friends thought lost but are now here again.

There are, of course, gifts for children for whom Christmas is special beyond faith.

And as this fateful year draws to a close, I would like to wish everyone luck and happiness beyond measure for the coming years.

Maligayang pasko, Pilipinas, at manigong bagong taon.

An African hawker?

And I was quite surprised, but true. An African hawker came to holler at our gates, seeking my attention.

He asked whether I spoke Tagalog (?!), and of course, I said yes. Forthwith he also spoke in Tagalog. After presenting his ID (he was Tony something, and he was the "marketing supervisor." He kept on telling me he had 45 people also walking the streets), he tried to sell me motion sensor devices, the ones you see being sold at DIY stores at malls. He was offering two units for PhP199 only, and as bonus, he would gladly give me a pack of 10 batteries for free.

I was almost convinced, since the units offered security.

Anyhoo, I am still very disturbed at this morning's encounter with an African hawker.

Banners high for the Saguisag family

Tragedy has befallen the Saguisag family.

Being a family man myself, the accident that cost Atty. Saguisag the life of his wife made me think about my own relationship with my wife, and how things would be darkly different if all of a sudden she were to go Dulce Saguisag's way.

Life is short, and always we are reminded by the daily deaths that go on public record. However, it is painful to account (an understatement) that many deaths are caused by another man's irresponsibility -- violent deaths due to crime or worse, simple idiocy.

Dulce Saguisag died because of a driver who thought his vehicle of a dump truck was as light as a go-kart and could be stopped immediately by lightly pressing the brakes.

Dulce Saguisag died because of a driver who thought the meaning of traffic lights going from green to red still meant "go."

Dulce Saguisag died because of a driver who the Land Transportation Office (LTO) thought was responsible, intelligent enough to be given a professional driver's license.

I am seething with anger not because it was Atty. Saguisag who lost his wife, but because what happened to him can also happen to me, and I don't want to lie on a hospital bed, to the point of dying, ignorant of the fact that my wife, my lifetime partner, is already gone.

Di Ko Alam

Ngayong umaga, isinulat ni Alisa ang kuwento ng dalawang penoy at ng kanyang mga magulang, ng aking mga biyenan. Pagkatapos magsulat, dumiretso na siya sa kama at humiga, tila may gustong takasan... maaaring iyung isinulat niya, o ang emosyong biglang lumitaw pagkatapos makapagsulat.

Siyempre, nag-alala ako. Patay na ang PC... parang tinakasan talaga. Binuksan ko ulit, at hinanap sa My Recent Documents ang isinulat niya. Doon ko naabutan ang mga tinakasan niya... doon ko nasalubong... sa My Recent Documents.

Nasalubong ko ang kwento ng dalawang penoy na binili niya ngayong umaga, at ang kwento ng mga multo ng mga penoy na ipinasalubong sa kanya noong bata pa siya, mga penoy na binili ng kanyang mga magulang para lamang sa kanya.

Sa bandang dulo ng sulat niya, naramdaman ko na alam na niya kung paano matatapos ang kwento niya. Doon pa lang, itinigil na niya, at tinakasan ang napipintong katapusan -- isa, o higit pang, balde ng mga luha.

Bumalik ako sa kama namin. Kailangan niya ng yakap. Kailangang makatulog siya, makatakas nang lubusan.

Hindi ko alam, Mahal, kung saan pumupunta ang mga masasayang alaala natin bilang mga bata. Hindi ko alam kung anong silbi nila -- ang palungkutin tayo, o iparamdam sa atin na ang buhay ay tunay na maiksi, na ang bawat pagkakataon ay dapat ninanamnam, dahil lilipas ang bawat pagkakataon, at hindi natin malalaman kung saan napupunta ang mga nasayang na pagkakataon.

Heto lang ang sigurado ko -- kapag napipinto ang pagbulwak ng luha, kapag gusto mong takasan ang pagmulto ng nakaraan, takbo ka lang sa kama natin at sasalubungin kita ng yakap.

Back in chaos

Not exactly. It has been almost two weeks since my return from tropical Cebu. From the relaxed attitude, day in and day out, creative juice flowing kinda existence in that southern paradise, I am back in the hustle and bustle of the metropolis.

The first week was spent adjusting my in-laws' house to our existence as a family. Alisa never got tired of re-arranging the things, and she was especially thankful that I was around to help. She had a very, very difficult time when work started for her while I was still in Cebu, since she had to tutor our son and at the same time, have enough energy to do the nighttime shift. Therefore, one of the first things I did upon arrival was to cook my son's baon for school :).

I had planned to do several, simultaneous rackets upon my return. I am used to this kind of life before -- when literally I had asked friends for "something" to do -- a magazine to design, an article to write, a gig to play, a concert to go to. In the past, there was just time to burn, and nothing else. Money was scarce then, but money wasn't the center of attention (even now, I'm proud to say).

Alisa says she's proud of all the things I am doing. I say, you know what? There's this palpable difference between then and now, despite having the same hectic schedules and the all the task-juggling.

There is this sense of fulfillment.

I go home to the beckon of my son, always asking, where am I? Am I on my way home? How far am I? What exact time will I arrive home?

Tired and dizzy, I am energized whenever he calls out, "Daddy," and asks another question. Alisa says he is not that talkative with his biological father. I am thankful, then.

Very, very thankful.