Why Do We Love Him Oh-So Much?

Baby S was beside me while I was opening my mail. When she saw this picture of Mickey Mouse and his friends pop out on the screen, she immediately said, "Mickey! Mickey!"





"Yes, Mickey," I said. At this point, she ran to the television set and again said, "Mickey! Mickey!" Unfortunately, Mickey wasn't on Playhouse Disney, so she pointed to my screen. I think she wanted to watch Mickey on my desktop, but I was just too busy. Fortunately, Handy Manny came on.





Saved!

As for my mail, G told me that Playhouse Disney was being replaced with Disney Junior. And for a moment there, I was filled with anxiety. I thought, what's going to happen to Oso?!!! Fortunately, they're going to keep Oso and Manny and a bunch of others that are Baby S's favorites.

Saved again!

P!!!!!!!

Just received the most incredible news and I am absolutely speechless!!! WOW!!

Shorts

Lost on words, but need a Vimeo break :) Enjoy!

How To Fly A Kite from Paul Trillo on Vimeo.

Wonder what kind of cult I could start? Mwahahaha

STUCK from Joe Ayala on Vimeo.

Just last week, our flight got delayed and we were stuck at the airport. Too bad the airport wasn't anything like this.

Ah, Should We Start Building An Ark Now?

... just a thought :)

Sophie's Sleepover

Wednesday night was my daughter E's first night at her new dorm. While she was trying to fit herself in her second-level bunk bed, which still had most of her belongings strewn all over, Baby S and I were all comfy in her living room, watching TV and playing.

Yes, I am a bad Lula. Baby S was supposed to sleep hours ago, but I didn't have the energy to play heavy and force her to sleep. After all, we were having a great time playing with her dollhouse and making couches and airplanes out of her plastic blocks... and she was kissing me every few minutes... and well, Shawshank Redemption was on cable, and I love that movie and I haven't seen it for a long time so, you get the drift.

Every so often, Baby S would close the lights (yes, she can do that all by herself now), lie down, and get her bottle. But after a few minutes, she'll be up again, opening the lights, chatting with me, and playing with her toys. It was like I was in bed with the Energizer Bunny!

The movie soon ended but it took a couple more opening and closing of the lights before Baby S finally fell asleep, lodging herself by my side, her right leg on top of my tummy. I was so exhausted by then that I didn't bother moving her. And that's how I fell asleep.

Death and Dying

When I was younger, I would sometimes wake up in the middle of the night, all breathless and sweaty with thoughts of death and dying clouding my mind. I would stand up, walk around my room, and turn my head every which way hoping those thoughts of doom would just go away. The idea of something—well, myself actually—coming to an end was just too horrible.

I haven’t thought of death and dying in awhile. There’s just too much of life happening all around me, I suppose. Last week, however, a friend said something about being scared of his mortality, and that got me thinking. In one of my MTV-induced moments, I remembered this essay I read in Time magazine. John F. Kennedy, Jr., the man whom everybody thought would be president someday, had just crashed his plane into the sea. And the author asked, what is the measure of a life?

That question kept me up most of the night. And while I do not propose to know the answer—I’m a writer, not a philosopher—I went back to one thought over and over again. We are mortals, true, but there are moments in time when we become immortal. And I’m not talking about world-changing events. I’m talking about a personal moment that transcends an everyday experience into something unforgettable, and yes, sometimes life-changing even.

There was that one morning, for example, when my dad wrote “I LOVE YOU” on the palm of my hand, because we haven’t seen each other for days. There was that one afternoon when my mom taught me how to cook okoy, sharing with me her secrets, preparing every okoy with care. Seconds become minutes, minutes into hours, hours into days, but I still remember that one morning and that one afternoon as if they were yesterday.

Someday, I know that all of this would end, but till then, I choose to treasure the immortal.

Quick Trip

Every few months or so, for one reason or another, I’ve found myself in Cebu.

I was a college student the first time I went to Cebu. I was a writer for Matanglawin and I was to attend a conference of the College Editors Guild of the Philippines. Since more of us could come if we traveled by sea, we took one of those slow and terribly overcrowded ships which, by the way, had a reputation of sinking to the bottom of the ocean. It didn't matter. I have very fond memories of that trip--even though there were wall-to-wall people and we slept in bunks that didn't smell nice and we ate I-don't-know-what kind of food! I was young :)

But I digress.

So I came back from Cebu just a couple of days ago and I realized that there are so many things that I love about Cebu. I love it that Chi at Shang is there. They give the best massages and I love it that they ask whether I want the room hot or cold, I'm malamigin kasi. I love it that Malapascua is there, although it's still many, many hours of a heart attack-inducing bus ride to Neverland. I love it that one of my best girlfriends lives there. She's always a gracious host and I hate it that I didn't get to see her during my last visit because my schedule was packed and she was moving houses.

And then there are the other stuff ...





I love it that Zubuchon is there. I love it that there are all these lechon places there, actually. And there's always something new to try. I love it that Zubuchon is at the airport now; the kids love their lechon sisig. Killer!!





I love it that Kenneth is there (first name basis daw mwahahaha!) I love his works; they're beautifully organic. I am saving up for one of his puffy as a cloud lamps. Of course, I love it that Z is there, still the best place to just hang.






I love it that the palengkes there are so clean. And you get to meet the people who actually grow the produce. This old lady was the one who raised these lovely round sayotes. So pretty and delicious!






I love it that IT Park is there because it reminds me so much of home. OK, this is not a very nice photograph, I admit, but just imagine Alabang with its wide streets and many trees and you'll get the picture. I am never homesick when I'm there.

A Quick One

Too much going on, but here's a quick one. Titanic was on cable today. During my work breaks, I caught bits and pieces of it--and so did Baby S. After the movie, Baby S went running around the house, shouting, "Jack! Jack! Jack!" Uh, oh!

Part-time Roomie

I haven’t had a roomie in years. There is something very liberating about having a room of your own where you can do anything and everything you please. But as chance would have it, I may not be completely alone in my room very soon. At least on some nights, that is.

My daughter’s class schedule is a bit crazy this semester. For a couple of days, she has classes in the morning and then a big break in the afternoon and then an early evening class that ends at seven, which means she’ll get home before nine, which means she’ll always be tired because she has to wake up at five the next day for her morning classes. Crazy!

When she got home the other night, looking all beat up and exhausted, my heart went out to her. She really looked so kawawa. So my daughter, who very well knows how to take matters into her own hands, suggested that she live in a dormitory for a couple of days of the week, so that she can focus on her studies and get some rest. In my mind I already knew it was the perfect solution, but I knew also what it would mean: I would have to take care of Baby S on some nights. Uh-oh!

Now you all know that I have a thing for sleeping. I love sleeping! I love curling up in bed. I love taking my time waking up in the morning, stretching slowly until I’m all warmed up. And with a baby in my bed, I’m afraid that my sleeping-soundly-in-bed days are over—at least on some nights, that is.

But then remembering how Baby S tells me “I love you, Lula” while I’m working, or how she asks me to get up and “Lula dance,” or how she gives me a big kiss before saying good night, well, maybe having a part-time roomie ain’t that bad after all.

Scared Shitless

I grew up in a family of readers. On weekends sometimes, the house would be quiet and still. That’s because each and every one of us—my mom, my dad, my three sisters, and I—would be occupied with our respective book of the week. As far as I can remember, there were always all sorts of books in the house—and our parents gave us the freedom to pick and choose whatever caught our fancy.

There were classics amidst the paperbacks, and that’s how I discovered Victor Hugo and Stephen King, Jacqueline Susann and Ayn Rand, Hemingway and Dostoevsky. I reveled in all their musings and adventures. I remember getting so engrossed on Robert Ludlum’s spy novels that at one point in my childhood, I wanted to work for the CIA. Those books opened whole new worlds for me.

That’s how I ended up loving reading.

While going through my bookshelf one day, I chanced upon an old Stephen King novel that I haven’t read, Gerald’s Game. Its cover was frayed and faded, its pages yellowed with age. But seeing how those pages have all been thumbed through, I told myself, my sisters or my parents must have already read this and they must have enjoyed it. And so, I started reading.

The plot is simple enough: Hubby handcuffs wife to the bed, wife accidentally offs the hubby when she kicks him and he falls head first from the bed leaving wife chained to the posts. Only a mind as deliciously twisted as Stephen King could have thought this up.

I gobbled up the pages. And by the time I got to the chapter where a stray dog enters their bedroom, I got so scared that I stopped reading, and misplaced the book (I think I did that on purpose, though unconsciously). I found the book a couple of days later and never put it down.

I love it that I could get so scared shitless by words.





Couldn't put the book down, and brought it everywhere, even on a quick trip to Sbarro. Remember V and M? :)

Aimee

Baby S and I are dancing to her tunes as the rain comes down.

Summer's Over

Yes, I know that it's still hot but my son K just came home from his first day in school. Summer's over! :(

Shopping With Boys

I’ve never been a mall rat. I’m not one to spend hours at the mall just wandering aimlessly. If I have to go to the mall, it would have to be with a purpose. And that’s why I love shopping with my boys. You can say that we share the same philosophy when it comes to shopping: figure out what you want, look at what’s available, and then pay for it.

Yes, when it comes to shopping I’m not such a girl. I love shopping but my version of it is something like a hit-and-run, I don’t like lingering. This is why my daughter E doesn’t like to take me shopping all that much. The first “grown-up” shopping gig we had together was a total disaster. She was shopping for her prom dress and had to go to each and every boutique and department store. I was not at all excited. She got the dress she wanted, but I vowed never again to be her shopping buddy. I just don’t have the enthusiasm to pour over racks and racks and racks of clothes.

In contrast, shopping with my boys is such a pleasant and speedy experience. The other day, my son K and I went shopping for school shoes. After agreeing on a budget, we looked around for the designs that he wanted, and got them on his size. After trying them on, he picked the winner—and that was our shopping errand for the day.

The best part: Since K and I share a liking for Dairy Queen, we stuffed ourselves silly with its Triple Chocolate Utopia Waffle—vanilla ice cream with brownie and chocolate chunks topped with what else but chocolate. It was humongous, and I think we spent even more time finishing off Utopia than shopping for those shoes. Lovely!




After shopping treat

Girlfriends Forever

The past week was a stressful one. Not only did I have to beat one deadline after another, I also had to enroll one child after the next, which set me back by I-don’t-care-to-know-how-much. And so when one of my best girlfriends G texted me about having dinner with P, I was more than ecstatic.

So many lifetimes ago, the three of us together with three others would go out drinking every other week or so. Yes, these are my drinking girlfriends. We would meet in Malate, when Malate still had all these quirky little bars and restaurants, parting only when we have successfully analyzed and dissected the burning issue of the week, whether it’s someone’s sad travails at the office or the rapturous blossoming of a new love.

When we got too old for all-night drinking sprees, we took to having long lunches. And in between, there will be what I call emergency calls. These are the type of calls that come in the middle of the night that you absolutely have to answer. I remember calling R from Baguio. I was alone and grieving for a lost love, and I knew that R would patiently listen. I remember calling D from my bedroom. I had just found out that my daughter E was pregnant, and I knew that D would know exactly what to say.

These women, they know all of my secrets, they know all of my pains and all of my heart’s secret longings.

Men come and go. Girlfriends are forever!