Friday, February 11, 2011


I used to think that coffee is a beverage just for old people. And what I meant with old was.. well, people about my age now (ouch!). I always see my mom drinking her coffee but forbade us to have one because, according to her, it's not good for the kids.  She cannot give me a legit reason except  for  the half-truth that coffee would turn me into a nervous wreck. And I grew up thinking that coffee is bad, categorizing it to things  like cigarette or liquor. I even actually thought that coffee was the most boring (!!) drink ever.

Hubby and I wasn't born coffee lovers. The only time we have coffee in the house was when my mother-in-law or my mom would come for a visit. But my hubby and I? We'd prefer soda.  So, I don't exactly remember how we started drinking coffee, and in fact, loving it. Whenever or however it happened that it became part of our morning rituals, I really forgot. All I remember now are the nights hubby and I spend chatting with a cup/mug of coffee clasped in our hands. Somehow, coffee makes a conversation light and free-flowing. With coffee in our throats, we don't end up arguing! (grin!!). Moments like this  is worth remembering for our retirement days!  We'd both savor these memories while sipping a hot, rich cappuccino ... A love story and a cup of coffee.

photo credit

Wednesday, January 26, 2011


My daughter is, at this moment, attending a 2-day seminar on Character Formation. Their school's way to prepare them for highschool. Her adviser asked the parents to write messages for the kids. But it's supposed to be a secret for the meantime. Denise is clueless about it until she is asked to read it before the class. I'm posting the original letter which was written from my own point of view and experience. But in the letter I gave to the adviser, I had to change the I to WE so as to include hubby. I'm not the only parent here after all.


Long before we became parents, your dad and I have envisioned the child we wish to have. It's amazing how God answers prayers, because looking at you now, yougre amost exactly the child that we relentlessly asked from the Sacred Heart. A beautiful, intelligent daughter for our first born.

Being a first time parent to a first born did not come so easy. I guess at one point I might have harmed your very fragile self-esteem everytime I push you to my own standard of "perfection". For imposing you to always do good especially with your studies. I plead guilty. Parents tend to mold their children according to their image and likeness. I guess we have to be reminded.. we are not gods(this line I borrowed from my old post).But through time, I am learning. That goes the same  with your dad. 

You're growing up so fast! Soon enough, you'll be a teener. It's a long, overwhelming phase of changes. Alterations. Confusions. A lot of growing up pains and joys that might leave you bewildered, and sometimes feeling all on your own. Rest assured that we'll be here for you. Being a friend and a parent are equally important this time. And we pray that God may give us wisdom to know when to be a friend or when to be a parent to you.  Or at times, both.

You always ask me what career path I think is suited for you. And I always answer, "I-pray mo lagi sa diyos". We may be your parents, but we don't know  all the answers. So I refer you to the One who knows everything. Always seek for God. Always seek for His wisdom. The three of us.. God, your dad and I will  be here to guide you. In every undertaking, we'll support you all through out..

We love you always.

Thursday, January 13, 2011


I am currently reading the book "The Alchemist" authored by Paulo Coelho. One of the sublime books ever written. It captures the whole of me when I'm reading it, I can finish it in one sitting. But something hits me everytime I leaf a page, so I pause everytime. I pause and ponder for another realization. Or pause and say "true true" everytime a line or a phrase echoes my own conviction of truth. Or pause to reminisce when the boy in the  book is going through similar situations I have gone through. So maybe it will take me awhile before I can finish it! 

The book makes me think  a lot of my own personal legend.

What is my personal legend?

I'm not so much of a big dreamer. But when I'm into something, I put my heart and soul into it until it rends me into pieces. Most of the pains that left me with permanent scars came from following my dreams.  But at times  I believe there's something greater than me out there that dreams for me. It dictates the path I have to tread . It conceptualizes the person I have to be. So I need not dream anymore. All I need is just   follow... or  wait. Somehow, somewhere along the line it rings true. Or maybe I'm just talking about fate.  Anyway, I decided not to stop dreaming. But there must be signs along the road to lead me, because not all dreams are my personal legend. And I have to know which one is mine.

The book (The Alchemist) mentions about OMENS..  "Because we have to respond to omens", said the boy to the crystal merchant... I believe that something greater than me out there gives signs. And the universe will conspire to show me my personal legend. But first I have to follow and respond to omens. And I will know which one is mine.

Tuesday, January 11, 2011


Did I say what ?

I was being true to my words.  My writing has gone RUSTY!

After re-reading my previous post, I had to change rustic to rusty. Hay... Can't believe my luck (hehehe..)

 photo credit

Monday, January 10, 2011


The thought of traveling as far as Bicol is dreadful. Well, for me who's been dealing with a post-traumatic stress everyday of my life. Maybe going back to the home I know is a natural longing, and I'd do it in whatever way. So I was home! Traveling that far was something quite unthinkable. That's the farthest I've gone since my accident. I guess I was generally okay during the trip. My daughter's presence somehow   was a comfort. But when we reached the long stretch of Quirino Hi-Way, traces of vehicular accidents appeared from left and right. I was weak on my knees looking at them. I wanted to look away but I did not. Hoping that if I stare back at an enemy it would go. It was like a trip to hell for me. My sole weapon was prayer and always is everyday I travel from house to work. And it never fails. I arrived Naga and traveled back to Manila in one piece! Weee!!

I think it's all about coming home for me now.  I'm back blogging in the coffee-nook  I always call my sanctuary. Yes, I decided to stay and keep it. It will need some renovations, I know. But why would I give up that easy when I know I haven't  gotten the better that it can still give out? And oh, my writing has gone rusty . I'll have to work on it.

Monday, September 20, 2010

My Little Coffee Nook

To my Little COFFEE NOOK,

I guess you don't have the right name. All along, you don't emanate that cozy feel of a coffee nook. I'm supposed to feel warm from a cup of coffee shared with friends. But having been empty for almost a year, you actually feel so cold now. You are lifeless. And with these SPAM comments/messages constantly visiting you ( I'm clueless how you got them), they are like termites slowly eating you up!.. So what do I do with you now? Do I pack up and go to another place to start anew? Or do I pick up where we left off, hoping maybe we could still get back that fiery feeling together?... Meanwhile, I'll stir a cup of coffee while thinking it over.

Wednesday, November 4, 2009

Stormy stormy night

Four weeks in a row of being threatened by typhoon, I hope Santi would be the last to enter the country for this year. But PAGASA doesn't give such false pag-asa. It says another storm would enter come December. Storm in Christmas! I dread the thought. And I dread heavy rains lately. We're fortunate enough we weren't directly affected by the deluge caused by Ondoy. But I fear for the flood victims. I am a rain lover and I'll always be. But with the damage that it has caused many people, it's something that I don't wish for at the moment. Well, I can tolerate a drizzle. A shower. Or maybe a downpour. Rains can come in different forms and I love them all AS LONG AS it's not destructive.

I always love rain as far as I can remember. Storms included (sometimes). Well, I had my childhood in a place where storms are part of life. Bicol is at the side of the Pacific Ocean you see, so storms are our constant uninvited guests. Should I blame it on them that I so love the rain? I practically grew up with them!

There was one Undas I went for a vacation back home, tagging along with me my then boyfriend, now my hubby. While we were enjoying the festive mood in the cemetery, it started to rain. We were totally clueless about the storm that was coming. Maybe we were having so much fun, we didn't care. Storm came that night and really strong. My boyfriend (then) , looking a little horrified, asked me "Bat ganon ang tunog ng hangin?". The wind was fierce and making a violent whirling sound. "Wala ba nyan sa Maynila?", I asked back. "Wala. Sa pelikula ko lang yan naririnig!". He cracked me up! Just to find out the next day that it was no way a laughing matter. Mabolo Bridge collapsed. There were floods and landslides, and the roads going to Manila were totally not passable. We were stranded for days.

Last saturday, it was another Undas (bisperas) and another storm in the metro. The wind was making a whirling sound. Hubby blurted out "Lakas ng tunog ng hangin. Sa pelikula ko lang naririnig yan". "Hay naku, narinig ko na rin yan", I said. Now after several years, we can laugh it out. Suddenly it's a good memory.

photo credit

Tuesday, October 27, 2009

attempting to write

I know, I've been a bad blogger. I never would want to use the word BUSY as a reason. I believe I can always make time if I will. I've had added workloads this year though. Half the time computing and calculating. And when my brains do the math very often, I forget how it is to flirt with words.

One more legit reason?...
How legit is that?... This is taking most of my time in the world wide web. I've been so hooked with my farm! Virtual it may be, but I've taken care of this parcel like for real. But then I guess "farming" makes me a lousy blogger. It wanders me off from weaving and knitting sentences. phrases. paragraphs.

Only lately that I have felt the burning passion to write again. Burning and flaming, I refuse to ignore. In my heart I really love to write. So I hope this burning stays awhile.

Tuesday, September 1, 2009


This post is a month late.

Last month, I celebrated my birthday. Although I kept silent when it came, it's the most significant of all my birthdays. My brother sent me a text message on my birthday. He wrote: "May this day remind you how much God loves you for allowing you to celebrate another birthday"... Indeed. I've never been this grateful. When I met an accident, I was given a second lease on life. And celebrating another birthday, I consider a milestone.

I re-read the post that I wrote for my b-day last year. Nothing much has changed since then. Still struggling with vanity. Still keeping a tight grip of the remaining youth that is left of me. But there's one noteworthy thing that has happened. I now welcome the gift of old age. When the signs of aging start to manifest in me physically, I wouldn't mind anymore. Because then, that means I'm still alive. Having faced before death has made me value the winter of time.

So, wrinkles and gray hair, bring them on! But still, I hope, not too soon (grin!). But when they come a little sooner, again I say, I really don't mind anymore. Because by then I'll make sure I have the inside beauty flourished over time. And that's what only matters.

Monday, June 22, 2009



I am a mirror of my daddy. We may have lost him quite early in life but he has left his values and principles imbued in my being.

He was temperamental. It worsened after his first major stroke. Though his illness made him a little like an angry man sometimes, he never lost his passionate self. He was very passionate about things. He had this child-like enthusiasm. I guess, that's what made him very loveable... I have his temper. But mine is much more tamed. Most of all, I have his passion. It's my passionate self that makes me enjoy life more than other people can!

He was very passionate about christmas. He would play christmas songs as early as September 1. Set our christmas tree in October. He loved christmas season so much!... I play christmas songs as early as July. Decorate our house of christmas ornaments in October. We both LOVE and feel giddy about anything christmasy!

He would read out VERY loud to practice his diction in english. So engrossed and sometimes appearing a little silly... I did the same, but I hope not as silly as he was! Now, I owe him my proper diction in english.

He loved reading books. He loved movies. um, almost addicted to movies... I love reading. Not only books but also magazines, websites, etc. I love movies. But no, not as addicted as he was.

He loved pets! Cats, dogs, birds, pigs (yes, pigs!). Name it. He would speak to them like human beings. We had this piglet named Wiggy. Daddy would stroll Wiggy around our subdivision complete with leash and a bow tie around her neck. Really, an embarassment to our family, hehehe. Poor Wiggy. Daddy must have confused her, "Am I a dog? Oink."... I was a pet lover. Though we don't have dogs at home right now, but I already have a handful of lovely pets. My hubby and my two kids.

He was very prayerful. When he was still alive, we would pray the rosary at night. We would attend mass every sunday. He had a picture of the Sacred Heart of Jesus that he put under his pillow. Clasp it in his hands and pray before and after he sleeps... I am prayerful like him.

He valued education. He was my first teacher... One day, mommy announced that we had to transfer to a less expensive school (with a less quality of education) due to financial struggles after daddy's major stroke. We were all crying. Daddy was quiet but stood his ground. He decided that we continue studying at the best school in the city whatever the cost... I value education. Could it be a proof that I have attained my master's degree? Sometimes I contemplate on pursuing a phd.

He was prideful. His pride can really get foolish sometimes. Like, he refused to use connections when he can (to go up the ladder of his career). Sobra sa pride o kulang sa diskarte? Depends on how you look at it. (Mommy was the opposite. She used connection , my dad's relative, to get a high paying and prestigious job in court which made us surpass poverty)... I am corrupted with pride. And it can really get foolish sometimes.

He was a music lover. He had a very high standard in music. Very classy. Our house was filled of his lovely music especially during weekends. The only baduy song that I heard him playing in our stereo was the song "Gulong ng Palad" by Nora Aunor. I saw him crying. He didn't know I was peeping. That was after he had a major stroke and the doctors advised him to have an early retirement. I cried with him too, just silently inside our bedroom... I am a music lover. We (my siblings) used to hate his music. But now that we're all grown up, we began to love the same music that dad used to play. How we wish daddy stayed a little longer to see us fully grown and loving most of the things he loved.

He was a great guitarist. He can play guitar like a professional! He was part of a band playing in clubs during their spare time. Spare time would be weekends.. During fiesta, his old time friends and relatives would gather around in our house. Two guys would play violin. Another would play maracas. Another, a bajo. And daddy would be one of the guitarists. An orchestra in our own backyard! We were the happiest (and maybe the most envied) house in the neighborhood. When daddy died, his friends would still come during fiesta. They would play their instruments for old time's sake. But they would just end up crying and missing my dad... In this part, I failed to emulate my dad. But if I still could, I'd love to learn to play one musical instrument.. Daddy was dissappointed in us, his kids. No one of us got interested to play guitar while the kids of other parents would willingly ask him for a guitar lesson. And willingly, he would with no charge. When daddy died, I tried to learn playing guitar on my own. But to no avail.

Wherever you are daddy, happy father's day! You've done a good job raising us. And.. have I told I love you?


It's important to be there for our children during their formative years. Tread a path where they should go. Infuse good values in them. Set good examples for them to emulate. As parents, we are given this amazing "power" to shapen up delicate human beings. But let's be very responsible and be very careful. For the kind of persons that we've molded our children, they will most probably be when they grow up.

The person who's been consistently there during my formative years was my father. My dad is my greatest influence (and that's also true to my siblings). He died when I was 13 years old. But my memory about him is crystal clear up to now. We adore him. My mom would sometimes get unreasonably jealous because we're (my siblings) all praises about him while she was seemingly unnappreciated. But of course that's not true... (I have a quite vague memory about my mom when I was young. She must have skipped out that phase in my life. I just woke up one day already a grown up suddenly with my mom beside me, not as my mother but more as my friend. Mommy got married at a very young age of 18. Daddy was more than a decade older than her. While we were growing up, my mother was still a growing child herself. Maybe we were a little too much to handle for her then. So, she would always pass on the disciplining to my dad.)

Daddy was VERY strict. A disciplinarian.. and sometimes to a fault. We were like scaredy cats when he's angry. He spanks REAL hard. We must have prayed so hard for God to save our butts! Oh, he's no way an ideal father. But then we adore him very much. We're all praises about him. Sometimes I would wonder why when he had many resentful ways. I'm not sure but I think I know one reason why. Parents tend to appear invincible before their children to admire. Give their children a false impression that they're an ideal parent (or person). Then we feel kind of betrayed when we realize one day that they're just full of imperfections.. It wasn't like that with my dad. We've seen in him the bad and ugly. The good and the beautiful. All the human frailties in him! So, that made us compassionate about his imperfections, instead. And made us admire him at the same time.

Daddy is the greatest influence of my life. I have acquired his ways. I have grown to be much like him.

Tuesday, June 16, 2009


How can you figure out a genuine relationship? One way of knowing is through trying times.

I have been through crossroads the latter part of last year (and how scary can it get). Recently, I had an accident that made me hit pit bottom. And during these trying times in my life, somehow some of my relationships have been tried and tested too.

When I cried SOS, who came running for rescue? Or even when I was silent, who came anyway and despite the distance or busy schedules (because genuine relationships know when you need someone and they would readily extend themselves to be that someone for you)?

One thing I learned about tragedy. It looms clearly to you which of your relationships are unfeigned and which are little less so. Yes, few of them might have disappointed me, but I try not to take it against them because sometime in my life I have disappointed people too... Only this time, I learned to really EXPECT LESS.


with mommy ---
Moms will be moms no matter what. The most reliable of all. She will come for me, invited or not. Others may desert me, but she will stick it out with me.

with hubby ---
A person who is not my blood but has loved me with all his heart. True to his vow, he's there for me for better or worse. In twelve years of marriage, he did not give me reason to doubt his love. But this is the time that he manifested it so utterly. He sacrificed for me and stood by me. He makes me feel so blessed. I love him so so much and even more.

with God ---
Many times I don't understand His ways that I even sent Him "hate letters" a couple of times before. Maybe He will not stop instilling great lessons (and sometimes the hard way) into my stubborn mind. Maybe because He simply loves me. Or I don't know. Basta, I'll just continue on with my pilgrimage. And when in doubt, let me just remember that God's foolishness is much greater than man's wisdom.


We were smashed right onto the creek. I was in panic of drowning but we were submerged only a little half-way (One more reason to be thankful for. I could have been half-way dead by then) . Blood was everywhere. There was this woman beside me all blooded on her face. Really a scary sight. Apparently, I did not feel any pain and I was not wounded. But as I tried to get up, my left arm did not move. I held it close to me making sure that I still have it. It's clinging in my body, still very much a part of me. Except that it cannot feel anything.

Rescue came. One guy reached out to me and grabbed my arms. Suddenly, a sharp pain in my left arm. Sharp, excruciating pain!

My left arm was fractured. I was operated for an implant. Right now I'm still recuperating from the operation. I will be starting my therapy today. And hopefully soon enough I can do without my arm sling already.

before the operation

after the operation

Yeah, I'm typing with my right hand.

Nobody died from the accident. Maybe some of them are okay now. Some are still recuperating like me. But what's important, we're all alive and enjoying our second life. Thank you Lord and cheers to life!

Monday, June 8, 2009


A was riding a jeepney one fateful day.

The driver readied to go as the red light turned to green. As we were about to cross the highway, a ten-wheeler truck from the other side of the road was accelerating and really fast, bumped and dragged us for I don't know how long. Everything went so fast, but the anticipation of where and how we would smash was a long wait. My mind was running just as fast. Thinking for survival .. for life, death, and my family. But first thing I did was to save my soul. I asked God to forgive all my sins and asked to take me with Him if I have to die that very moment.

It seemed silent. No one screaming. Just groaning and moaning from the hurting passengers. And from my voice saying "Jesus save us" over and over again.


sorry, can't continue now. can't bear the bad memories.. the fears and pain (or is it sadness?) that i was not even aware it's there, still... until i wrote it.

Wednesday, April 22, 2009



I was part of the team that conducted an ocular inspection at the Batangas beaches for our company sportsfest. We were looking for the best, most affordable beach that can accomodate 570+ employees. Here's some chosen photos I got from our beach hopping!

Tuesday, March 31, 2009

Cute Blogger Award

I got tagged by Tani (Thanks Tani! And sorry, it took me so long!)
As recipient of this award,
1. Each blogger must post these rules.
2. Each blogger starts with ten random facts/habits about themselves.
3. Bloggers that are tagged need to write ten facts about themselves. You need to choose ten people to tag and list their names.

So, here are my ten weird, random, little known facts or habits about myself.

1. In relationships, it's inevitable that people fail me or I fail them, and wish we could shut each other out. But either way, I don't burn bridges. In most cases, I just don't cross the bridge. (this can be another topic for another blog time)
2. I am musophobic.
I have this fear in mice/rats. They get me extremely hysterical, they could kill me! In fact they almost did when I was still in my mother's womb. A rat startled mommy that caused her to bleed quite profusely. The doctor gave my precious life an ultimatum. If wednesday comes that the bleeding still doesn't stop, she has to scrape me out. Tuesday, the bleeding stopped... So yeah, my life is meant to be.
3. My first aspiration was to become a nun.
One day, mommy had a chit chat with the mother superior (in our school). And for whatever reason, she sorta bragged that "oh, my daughter wishes to become a nun. She must be a saint in the making!". Then the mother superior went up to me, encouraged me a little more to pursue this dream. And in front of my adviser, she attested that she's been seeing me frequenting the chapel. She LIED! I barely go to the chapel. Well, that made me change my mind. Not only lawyers are liars. Nuns, too.

4. Speaking of lawyer.. If there's any regret or "if only" in my life, maybe that is, not following my dream to become a lawyer.

5. My first love will always be dancing. And I can say that "first love never dies".

6. I love Rainy days. If you happen to have watched the movie "One Fine Day", the weather in that movie can best describe my perfect day. Windy and drizzling all day.

7. I love Fall.
I live in a tropical place wherein rainy or sunny can only be the choice, and I've never experienced fall (or winter, or spring) in my life. But I love fall! The color of the leaves. Orange, yellow, magenta, purple! Fall affects me in a happy kind of way. Kahit sa picture lang..

8. The saying that "silent water runs deep" isn't true in my case.
You can call me a hyperactive teen-ager/kid (note: I am far from that picture now. I've grown to be so demure .. heheh). I was always in the list of noisy girls in class. I laugh and talk a lot. I run around seemingly restless. And you can hate or love me for this. To those who only know me skin-deep, I may appear shallow-headed. But I am a surprise because I am more than that to those people who really know me inside out. At my young age, my human understanding is already broad. Friends come up to me for advice or simply talk about life (almost dissecting life)... I had a friend/roommate who's twelve years older than me. She said she finds me very mature. I think maturely (daw) than other kids my age... So, in my case, noisy water can run deep, too.

9. I fear to be old, wrinkled, and ugly. I am trying to learn to come in terms with this reality.

10. Motherhood did not come so easy for me. After I gave birth to my first born, I suffered from depression for a long time. Was it the hormones? Or did I find it hard to say goodbye to my youth and freedom? (another topic for another blog time).

For the eleventh...
I break rules. So, instead of ten, I'm tagging everybody. Please feel free to add this to your blog.

Friday, March 13, 2009


photo credit

A mere thought of needle pricking can chicken me out. I cringe at the onset of displeasures. I get tempted to run away from problems. Oh these things we call CROSSES! Disputes, sickness, poverty, traffic jam, bad weather. And if I could choose, I'd rather take up the lightest of the crosses. Or none at all. But more often than not, we don't choose on what crosses we want to carry. They're just thrown at us. Nonetheless, we can decide on how to handle them. And that's what makes the difference.

If I have to be asked about the cross I'm carrying right now, it's this autocratic, power maniac I know. She is my cross (and everybody else's)! I'd rather not go down the list of my grievances. Talking about them would only reap negative feelings but doesn't solve anything. I can just describe how I see her in my own eyes. In my eyes, she is oftentimes a beastly thing with its long curvy pair of horns, sharp, pearly white fangs and a tail. In some occassional instances, she reaches out my distance. Those times, she appears to be a cuddly, harmless puppy with its fluffy ears and wagging tail. But, "oh don't be deceived!", I warn myself...seriously.

It's easy to hate her because she is hateful. But I try to go beyond what I can see. Her inferiority complex hiding behind the arrogance. Her trying to use people to fill up her low self esteem. Beyond what I can see is a pitiful sight of inner struggle and brokenness. Sometimes I try compassion instead of hatred. Well, easier said than done. But I don't stop trying.

To love the loveable is effortless. To love the unloveable is virtue..

Am I being a cross for another person? Am I making life difficult for somebody else? Heck, I'm no saint and I can be bitchy sometimes. So once in awhile I do some double checking. I could be the villain of another person's life story and I might never know. That's scary..

Tuesday, February 24, 2009


How can meditation tidy up a cluttered mind, or teach an old dog a new trick? How can mantra, the chanting, do something to our soul? And how can meditation let go of the ego? Things about meditation seems unfathomable. I guess no book can make me understand unless I go through meditation myself.

How is it to be selfless? Sometimes it gets tiresome to live in this egocentric world. Of this crowd clamoring for recognition and power. Of wanting to outsmart one another. Of being hurt and wanting to hurt back. We all run around playing an unsynchronized orchestra. No wonder, we are such a noisy world. Yet, this noisy, clamoring crowd is nothing but a reflection of my inner crowd. This inner crowd, my broken self playing out of tune.

Many times I try to play my music the best way I can. But I have not perfected it that every time I encounter people playing their music out of tune, I start to play out of tune myself. And so the unsynchronized orchestra starts over again.

There must be something better in life than this. Can meditation help me play my instrument a little better each day? Until I could play it easy and effortless. Because however small, playing my music in harmony can make a difference in the orchestra I belong.

I am listening to this radio program at Radio Veritas every sunday entitled Sacred Space on the Air sponsored by the Dominican Sisters of Regina Rosarii. Listen how they talk about contemplative prayer, meditation, and the healing sound.

Monday, February 2, 2009


I started out writing together with my (two) friends. But the word "together" makes it inaccurate. They write and they share their writings to me, while I write but keep my writings just for myself. I was not sharing, so I was not "together" with them. The thing is, they write in poetry.. I DON'T. And that made me feel insecure. Somehow I felt that my own writings were second best. If words don't rhyme, then they ain't good enough! So I clammed up. I continued writing just for myself. Attempted to write poems but failed many times. Actually, I was able to write a few. But it didn't pass even my very own amateur yardstick. It's either I'm not really good at it or I'm just not into it. It's not a liberating experience for me when my thoughts are confined in rhymes and meters. So I gave up poetry. I just contented myself in reading my friends' writings. Reading their poems was my favorite pastime then. I miss those days... Good memories.

I remained writing free flowingly. Ironically, sometimes, I am able to write poems with no intentions. Just recently, I shared one of my writings to a friend. Then I was so surprised when she uttered "Very nice poem. Beautiful!". What poem? I don't know how to make one! But she insisted it was a poem.

Here's another one that I wrote years back. It was not meant to be a poem but seems that it turned out to be one as well. Funny that I can actually make it when I'm not trying.


Thursday, January 22, 2009


There are foods that I keep coming back for. Foods that I associate with my childhood. And I see to it that everytime I visit home, I get to taste each one of them. Every munch, I savor memories!.. hmmm, heaven...


It's hubby's favorite as well. I'm not sure if this recipe has originated in Naga, but I don't know of any place that sells toasted siopao. Well, good news for toasted siopao lovers in Manila , I heard that Naga Garden Resto has a branch in Market! Market!. They made toasted siopao within our reach now.


Gabi leaves stuffed with dinikdik na hipon, young coconut, ground pork and cooked in coconut milk. Yummy!

GINATAANG LAMBO (Labong) with clams (shelled)

Siblings favorite! My sisters and brother.. we all crave for this!


(looks like mami but the distinction is in the sauce)
Who doesn't love loglog?!! Eaten with maruya and softdrinks? Ah, perfect!


Malagkit na rice with coconut milk

Some prefer it as is. I prefer it with sugar. Coffee or hot chocolate goes perfectly with it!


I used to love their cheeseburgers with the cheese stuffed inside the patties, and you can feel the cheese melting in your mouth. Heaven! That's how they used to do it. And the memories that goes with eating them are priceless. Biggs was our barkada's favorite tambayan and we don't fail to order their cheeseburgers. During my college days, sometimes I go to Biggs before school. Munching cheeseburger while studying. My alone time. It was a very relaxing thing for me.

'Til another food trip at home!

Monday, January 19, 2009


Last year, I had this great longing to visit home. Maybe because life was a little rude then, and I wanted to run to the place of my comfort and where, subconsciusly, makes me feel shielded... and HOME.

And finally, I had my homecoming during the holiday. Initially, it was a real home sweet home for me. Until the weather had to screw it up!! Yeah, it was cold and cozy, but it rained all the time and I had to put off some plans, like, take some photos of our city in different "angles", visit my alma mater in college (Ateneo de Naga) because I treasure a lot of wonderful memories there, visit my dad's graveyard, etc..

So, here goes some pics to help me make my story-telling a lot easier.

Photos taken at Avenue Square while sharing some coffee time with friends
Dined out and had some coffee time late in the evening with my two girl friends, Gay and Tess. We dined at the Red Platter along Magsaysay Avenue. I took photos of their yummy foods but I want you to see few ineteresting details of their interior designs, instead..

The place is very cozy. Looks like a country home ( I wish to achieve this kind of interior design in my own house). It's used to be a house, now turned into a resto. And the food was superb, let me not forget to say that!

Night life is great in Naga City! We stayed out till 1 am.

I miss the rest of our barkada. Wish we can all go home together and have a grand vacation.

Lunch out at Chef Doy's with Cecile few days after. Cecile and I were batch mates in highschool but never had the chance to mingle with one another. We again went to the same school in college, and there we became friends.

The foods at Chef Doy's was a so so. But maybe I should give them the benefit of the doubt. A second try, maybe.

But these pastries at Kopiroti are incredibly luscious which Cecile gave me as a treat after our lunch date! Thanks Cecile!


my highschool alma mater
I had the chance to shoot the facade of my alma mater (from elem. to highschool), Universidad de Sta. Isabel ( Trivia: it's the first normal school for women in the Philippines and in Asia. Hence, the oldest school for girls in the country). In this school, I was taught how to behave like a lady. Taught about ethics and social graces. And yes, here, it was a survival of the fittest. Daming maldita! hahah. So you learn how to fight back. Well, that's something quite common with all girls . Oops, no offense. I love my school because here, I met my best friends for life!!

The white specks on the photo aren't snow flakes! They're just some tiny droplets from the drizzle.

Nick with lowa ( mother) in Naga

Nick and her ate, Denise

And finally, back in the arms of my babes (hubby) after the vacation.