Proofreading

I don't know if this had been a product of my work, but I tend to edit people... SERIOUSLY edit what they say, what they post, whatever. I've been a real-life proofreader, and I don't exactly know how to act it out now.

Several times I edit TV personalities (e.g. celebrities) who often misconstruct a statement. Now, I'm doing it on friend's blogs and Facebook statuses. I currently hate my brain for functioning, alienating every wrong thing like I'm Microsoft Word's freaking spell/grammar checker.

Don't get me wrong. I'm no saint in sentence structure, neither am I perfect in my vocabularies and the whole 'English' picture. I am a repetitive sinner, but I try to avoid them every so often. I am more than aware of it, so I usually double check everything before posting, even re-read them for a couple times just to make sure.

But this little processor in my head just continues to dive into every opportunity to correct, submitting to mental jabs as exercises.You might say that it's a natural thing, I damn well know it is. But, I judge people by this and think of them differently just because they are no grammar masters, and that's the problem. (God, please don't tell me I'm awful)

So before you judge me as a damn hypocrite, would you even find these mistakes forgiving?

I thought so.

2012 Calendar

Life suddenly feels like a crisis. For some reason unknown to me, my plans have twisted and turned in a number of times in the past months. I couldn't even grab a hold of all the glittering thoughts I had, and are still having at the moment.

I/We are planning to move to Singapore - in a country bred with foreign nationals and a rising economy. And I feel stupefied; overwhelmed with so much that's going to change if everything goes well-enough. I don't even know what to expect. The gravity of moving away from my family and the comfort of our home is too big of a risk on its own, not to mention having to miss reunions, the company of friends, and the convenience of work.

But I will not let myself sulk, not until things have gone into their respective places. I can only hope for the best now, and wish that the universe conspires to make the dream come true.


Snap.

Au Revoir.

I am in awe, taken aback by this life-changing circumstance... trying to battle with myself... thinking of conceding my ego.

But....

I was negated. I was crossed-out like I never made a difference; like my sincerity, nor friendship, never amounted to anything worth redeeming.

So I have come to the conclusion that people, family or not, will always be just people - with own interests, sturdy opinions and biases. Some are repentant. Some are bashful. Some really matter. And like matter, some stay to fill the space, others choose to willfully reject to occupy.

Tonight, I resign to care.

My world minus you; your world minus me - a perfect equality.

Bon Voyage Tatay

I miss Tatay. I miss those days when he was always part of the family outing, birthday parties, and longed-for reunions. I miss playing with him, or talking to him at the least. I may have forgotten things about him: what he likes most, how he used to play with us, how he held me when I was little, and the likes, but I know I will always be reminded of things about him through these:

Although these will always make me smile and look back fondly, I know that these photos will not emanate, nor will it ever replace the warmth of someone who had occupied a big part of my life. I may not have been the most loved, but he will always be the well-loved Lolo to me. He will always be my only ‘Tatay’.

While my heart is mourning, I am joyful that you are now at peace and may well be looking upon us now, loving us from afar…

Tay, please know that we love you too, we miss you by the second, and we pray for your eternal happiness in heaven.

Mourning, Missing, Wishing

I am lost, battling the world with a tattered soul, a bruised heart and a missing personality. I swallowed the pill at my own risk. I was beaten at my own game.  I unconsciously incarcerated myself to sterility. And I am currently interring myself, mourning at my own funeral.

I died today. I don't even remember living self-sufficiently. I can't remember having been able to smile because of me. I cannot even remember how I used to love myself. And I am upset, for letting this happen: for dying without knowing; for losing because of loving.

Too much love had killed me. And I am whining, tempers flaring, trying to get the hang of all this.

I just wish my old self back, the one who never had to die; the one who was selfish-enough to know what's fair in life and love. I miss that someone who believed that she is indeed a beauty, a diamond among the rocks that need not be told she's one hell of a catch because she believes it with all her heart. I am craving for the lady that compromised yet stayed exactly the same; the one who wanted nothing but to be whole, and not just a piece or a portion of a greater picture.

Side note: So if there really is a golden lamp to rub or a wishbone perhaps, please send it my way. I'll be more than glad to wish a complete Jenna back.

Melancholy

This is me. Wasting time. Comforting myself. Managing disappointments. This is where I draw the line, I mark the mark, I cross it out and sign it under my property. This is where your trespassing ends, because you know no boundary. This is where my love for myself prevails more than the love I am still willing to give. This is where I am willing to let myself soar and not be bound by you, and vice versa. This is where I pretend to not care, and succeed. This is where I pretend to be strong enough to not mind, and believe. This is where I continue to love you by letting ourselves be two completely separate beings, instead of one, because 'we' would always be just 'me'.

Until it dawns on us both, and until we make amicable compromises, this will stand. For now, I guess.

Now this is me resigning, taking a hike somewhere, going the distance, taking a leave, or maybe giving up.

Goodbye Little Angel

I never understood how life works. Life, to me, seems like a battle of numbers and of years yet to live on. But the math never justifies what good love you bring to the world, because this little angel of ours, brought good love from start to five.

I am mortified to not have known her well-enough to tell you how great a kid she was. I can only listen to stories of her, imagining how she always said 'opo'. I can only picture how our last meeting went. I am not even sure if I've said 'hi', nor can I remember how she looked the last time. I am guilty of not keeping her close at heart, for not letting myself be cheered by her. But now, she had touched my heart in a bazillion of ways I could only feel yet never define.

I can only wish that she were lent to us a little longer, but God already wants her beside him in paradise.

This is where I bid goodbye. Until the next lifetime, Princess.

Wishful thinking

Utensil alternative

This is me, attempting to learn how to use chopsticks (with a little help from this blue bunny).

The day I blamed the blue frosted nail polish

I was busy trying to find something amusing online, at the comfort of my bed, on my rest night. I don't know how it suddenly dawned on me to start to sort my things out and try to do a little spring cleaning. Yes, little is an understatement, considering how I can be OC when I clean.

I saw my old notebooks way back in college, and some really sentimental things I forgot I had. Some, I thought I could recycle and reuse. I was nostalgic - seeing all the things I thought I lost already, and futuristic - seeing all the things I feel like reusing. Yesterday's trash could really be today's treasures, as I was told.

Suddenly, I felt a pang of pain, as I were using boxes to collectively sort out everything. It felt like I'm moving away - from my safe place, my shell for a little over two decades, my HOME.

In two years time, my life would turn into a full circle, three hundred sixty degrees, full blown. It scares me how things might change from hereon, how my clutter will void this home, how it will fit in to a new place. I am scared to know how life works its wonders. I am scared to leave my kind of life now. I am scared to know the difference.

In two years time, I would have my life partner, my ever after, my knight in shining armor in disguise. It excites me that I willq live the life I choose, a life that isn't perfect for everyone except to ME. And by ME, I may mean US or WE.

In two years time, I may be happier than I am now. Maybe wiser. Maybe fatter. Maybe grumpier. But I care less. I will not be moved, not until then. I will rejoice for the present. I will enjoy the current. And tomorrow will just have to wait. My wedding, Prince Charming, and our dreams can wait, in hopes that they will never be forgotten. And I promise that they will never be broken. Not in this lifetime.

Side Note: My first time to put on a blue nail polish, and I suddenly thought of all this.

It's never too late to say 'Thank You'

Jenna,

I thank you for trying to be such a grown-up now, although you fail sometimes. But that didn't stop you to make all things shine bright and beautiful. You stayed, held on, and wandered in a world which pulled you down when you were soaring; which dragged you into so many aches, like you haven't had enough yet.

Thank you for still believing that life's a lot bitchier than you, and that you're wise enough to act indifferent to it.

Thank you for remembering to fall in love and for acknowledging what love has done for you.

Thank you for waking me up whenever I need a little shaking, for dodging me when I'm stubborn and unbecoming.

Thank you for reminding me that I am not alone, no matter how I always feel like I am. You were always there to keep me a little sane. You were always just a step behind, if not beside.

Thank you for being kind, enough to convince life that you deserve friends. And these friends are thankful and believes that they deserve you, too, at least that's how I feel about you.

Thank you for still standing up for your virtues, no matter how bended they are now.

Thank you for being sensible whenever my thoughts are barred or sheered by things that were never necessary. Thank you for arguing with me, and for inviting competition.

Thank you for understanding that I am not perfect, nor are you.

Thank you for wanting to be Me, and You. Thank you for thanking Me for being You.

Loads of love,
Jenna

Birthday poem for Minapot

My first poem for the year. Happy birthday, Sis!

Why my boss could be better than yours?

I have never, even in my wildest thoughts, seen this coming. I am awarded this book because I have a great boss who thinks I can do better at writing, and knows that I am destined for it, some other time or lifetime, maybe.

Side note: Workbooks are fun, indeed,

AJ - n. friend and sister

I've known her pretty damn well back then. We've shared most of everything we had for a whole year. Bed, pillows, blankets. Laughters, tears, heartaches. Birthdays, Valentine's, and some holidays. Yes, a year of extraordinary friendship, sisterhood and all the stuffs that come in between.

She's one of the craziest and coolest girl I know who didn't mind spending over stationaries and inks just so I could get a note everyday. EVERYDAY. She hardly said a word about that being too demanding of me. Although she didn't have much to say, she kept all the notes coming, just because I love them.

And here are just some of the love she sent my way:

And this is our own alphabet, yes, we're crazy like that.

Sadly, I couldn't read our brilliant little conversation here. This must be amnesia. Tsk.

#

She was my bestest, and somewhere in this great big unpredictable world, I lost her. It might sound like an overstatement, but my heart bled for missing, for wanting, for needing - her. Yet, she wasn't there. And I wasn't there for her just the same.

We grew apart. I was devastated. I think we both were.  She never came back. I was dumb enough not to get her back. Not to write her letters, not to visit her in Zambales, not to call her as often as I could, not to do anything that would have eased the pain from a part of me that died, a part that had always been left out, and was left empty for only her to occupy.

When someone dear to me died, I wished for her to be there. I needed her to be there. I couldn't even remember if I called her, or asked her to come to my rescue. Maybe it was my fault, I haven't told her that I felt lost and alone without her.

She got married, and it ached, me not being a part of it. Not long after, she gave birth to a baby girl, and I wasn't at her side either, to offer a congratulations, to share with her joy, to ask her if it had been really difficult, or what it felt like to finally be a mom.

I had my chance to ask her and tell her all those when she asked me to be a godmom, but I dind't have the extra time, nor the resources to pull of a Manila-Zambales stunt. And I regret not having to make a way for that.

#

After six years, it still doesn't feel quite right. She was the closest I've come to having a sister, and she still is. And I will build back our bridge now. I'm going to write her letters, call her just because. Maybe we won't have the same commitment to friendship, but I'll love it [friendship] no matter what. And this time, I'm not letting go even if I have to. 'Cause she may not be my best friend anymore, but she's my sister by heart, and I love her like that.

Side note: Would love to put a picture of us together, but there aren't any. Why we haven't had a picture together, I don't know. Those days weren't the time of the digital camera craze. What a waste.

Self-loathing

I love quotes. I take inspiration from them, and apply them to my life whenever necessary. Today, I chance upon reading an excerpt of this on my friend's Facebook status. I craved for more and decided to look upon the whole poem instead.

After a While by Veronica Shoffstall

After a while you learn
The subtle difference between
Holding a hand and chaining a soul
And you learn that love doesn't mean leaning
And company doesn't always mean security.

And you begin to learn
That kisses aren't contracts
And presents aren't promises
And you begin to accept your defeats
With your head up and your eyes ahead
With the grace of a woman
Not the grief of a child

And you learn
To build all your roads on today
Because tomorrow's ground is
Too uncertain for plans
And futures have a way
Of falling down in mid flight

After a while you learn
That even sunshine burns if you get too much
So you plant your own garden
And decorate your own soul
Instead of waiting
For someone to bring you flowers

And you learn
That you really can endure
That you are really strong
And you really do have worth
And you learn and you learn
With every good bye you learn.

I wish that it is as easy as it sounds to hug yourself, or to give yourself a reassuring kiss, a pretty compliment, an unexpected tap on the back. If it were, then my world could really melt on its own, not depending on anything or anyone to define or bring it happiness.

So I'll try to do just that by making this affirmation:

This is me hugging and kissing myself, jabbing in some compliments and unexpected taps on the back. This is me melting my own world, one that revolves around people I love, but mostly out of me. Yes, ME.

Level 25+

Turning twenty five wasn't really that big of a deal, not even close to being in high spirits for me too. Expectations do let you down. I wonder whoever made up that word to describe such a horrible feeling that sums up undesirable results most of the time. So, yes, in a shorter term, my birthday sucked. But misery had not stopped me from believing that there are greater things ahead, that my happiness is my own and should not be defined by others, nor should it be dependent to someone other than myself.

So amidst all the crises, PMSing, and an earthquake scare, I decided to do something remarkable, just to up the ante.

Remarkable and upping the ante = kite flying. Meet our kite, Matanglawin.

Now look who's also enjoying.

Side note: Another crossed-out item on my list. Hurrah!

Who's the happy camper?

Life would never have been this fairytale-like if not for this Prince Charming/Bike Wizard/Bowling Buddy all-in-one.

Happy Valentines Jammy!^_^

Silver wishes [Part 2]

I've read Pam's great blog today and found myself nodding, agreeing about the things that best rocks her world, and I think I share the exact sentiment for letters.

I remember how simple notes made my day. Most of the time, handwritten notes melt my heart more because they have such oozing sincerity that one can't deny, nor neglect.

So if by chance you pass by this page and wonder what makes my heart skip tiny beats, wonder no more. Go grab your pen, get some paper/card/notepad or whatever it is that's available, and write something about your day, or maybe wish something for my birthday. Go scribble, doodle. And when you're done, don't forget to send it to me. Remember, nothing haunts like the things we don't say.


Side note: Don't worry. No matter how bad your penmanship is, I'd still hug you for sending love my way. ^_^

Silver wishes [Part 1]

I am turning silver in two weeks. And for a memento, I am aspiring, and soon enough, will be owning all (or maybe just some) of the twenty five things that'll be stated under. To whom or how can I acquire these from is not my concern at the moment. Maybe Santa could be extra generous and efficient this year to hand me these presents for my birthday, ten months ahead of Christmas Day. (Oh, let a girl dream.)

1. A fairly functional belt bag

It doesn't need to look like this exactly, but just so you could get the hang of what I was imagining to get for myself. The more the compartment, the better.


2. Some Neil Gaiman books.

With the success of Stardust the movie, I'm thinking there maybe more to his stories than the movies itself. So I'm welcoming Gaiman to my collection.

3. Some star-designed bags.

So I could re-organize my things in their new home.

4. A copy of the poem "All I really need to know I learned from Chocolates." 

I saw this poem once in a visit to National Book Store, and never found it again. I Google-d it, hoping that someone in this crazy connected web would've encountered it and decided to tell it, to no avail. Sometimes, Google does let me down.

5. One-of-a-kind pens and crayons.

I want my pens and crayons as unique as me. And yes, I am this ambitious. But just so you know, normal pens and crayons are also accepted. (Oh, I love pens. ^_^)

6. Storage boxes. 

Originally, we prefer our books on the shelf. But my shelf accumulates dust more than any other furniture I have in the bedroom, so I opt to keep my collection on boxes - colored boxes that is. (It's never too late to be girly.)

7. Some Sophie Kinsella books.

Because I enjoyed reading her Twenties Girl, I'd love to get a hold of her books.

8. A laziest-cat-in-the-world stuffed toy.

For those who do not know, I am really a cat person even before we ever had a dog to pet. And for those of you who hate Mondays, and loves lasagna like I do, then there must be a special place in your heart for this lazy but endearing fur ball.

9.  A Hello Kitty laptop bag for Annie [the laptop].

My EJ bought me a laptop skin for my Annie:

So all that's left to do, is to buy her a bag that matches her fashion.

Can't you agree more? ^_^

10. A white sandals.

Never had one in my entire life.

11. New half-framed eyeglasses.

I am letting my old one retire. Squeaky-clean glasses and a clearer vision awaits.

12. A .dot com

Been planning to have my own stash of the web since last year. Maybe its time my words take the stage and sparkle. Suggestions for a domain name will be highly appreciated.

13. An eight-piece puzzle ring.

I'm an owner of a four, but would love to have an eight just for the fun of it. In case you might ask, I'm a size 6. ^_^

14. Nail art machine.

For instant nail make-overs.

15. Coolest bookmarks.

Law of supply and demand: More books=more bookmarks.

16. A mood ring.

This is the closest I've come to fortune telling. If you're a moody woman (ahem!), it might help to let some ring define your mood for you, sometimes.


17. A portrait of me.

Because I'm an aspiring Mona Lisa. Who knows, someday maybe? ^_^

18. A new coffee mug


Since I've been coerced, influenced and is now very much addicted to caffeine, how about a new mug to start the 25th year?

19. Week's supply of Pintoora, Yakee, Cherry Ball and NIPS.

Cheers to those who believe that sweets (mostly bubblegum to me) can brighten one's day.

20. A cell casing/skin.

I know it sounds old school for one to want a new housing for cellphones but I'd really like to get one for my Little Red Riding Hood. I believe that things want to be dressed anew once in a while too, like us people do.

21. Comfy pillow.


What else would a workaholic/sleep deprived lady like me want in a busy day? A good night's sleep. Although I have two pillows to rest on every night, I think they just don't suit my needs very well. I want a fairly fluffy hard pillow. I hate when my head sinks. So yeah, hard and fluffy it is.

22. A pair of Espadrilles.

I thought it might look good on me.


23. Pair of earrings

Earrings do play an important role in making me feel girly and gay (as the verb). ^_^ Not that I want a Tiffany and Co. design.  Just saying. ^_^

23. A Lock & Lock-type lunch box.

Who'd want their lunch spilled over their bag? Definitely not me.

24. Plastic cabinets.

I love storing things. I love keep sakes. And as much as I enjoy rummaging through a whole lot of chaos in the closet, I'd really love. a clean organized closet. And maybe plastic cabinets will do my dream justice.

25. 1000-pc jigsaw puzzle.

I feel like it's a pretty relaxing treat, to spend time solving jigsaws. Oh, nerd alert! nerd alert! ^_^

Note: Photos snatched from Google's photo search page.

Shouldn't there be a 'sorry' somewhere? Or maybe 'where are you?' to begin with?

I felt UNWANTED, UNAPPRECIATED, and UNCARED FOR
all in one night. Pfft!

Loved Unloved

Side Note: Oh love, just woo and explain. You know I 'm always more than willing to listen.

Song-inflicted pain

photo credit to Hidden Agenda

I felt a sudden but familiar welled-up emotion for the guy who melted my heart with laughter, and broke it just the same - Emon. I am close to tears as I try to mend this hole in my heart - one that needed to be supervised for it not to expand, one that needed a patch of glued cement, one that has been stitched over and over for four years now.

Sometimes I wish I could just shut you out of my life, but the thought alone makes me cringe because I know that's next to impossible. You have vandalized my soul with permanent marker and I'm way too weary to erase whatever's left of you, and we.

I ache for all the things that we've done together. I ache for all the goals and dreams we never met, for the love letters I've read and wrote, and for a whole bunch of stuffs that I no longer remember.

Yes, your memory do stings, in a ticklishly-sad way. It bites hard and sweet.

Alright.

I surrender to this nostalgic feeling.

*Tears*

Side Note: Maybe I should get rid of the radio so I won't get to hear that song and feel this way over again. Or the next time, maybe I should just re-tune.

Life is just a bowl of cherries!

Current mood: Grateful ^_^

Living proof: I have this goofy fur ball to come home to.

1...2...3...4...

Somewhere in this great world, I met this great guy who noticed that this lady was a big ball of greatness.  So in exchange for the thousands of hugs, kisses and overall comfort he brought into her life, and still is bringing, she made this cheesy-ball out of love and madness.

Side note: Many thanks to the great guy who believed I was worth loving a thousand times over. 

Who's tying the knot?

I am. In two years time, I definitely am.

Yes, I am engaged. And I'm out for words to tell you how it happened.

The four-legged member of the family

Last night, while I was watching my all-time favorite Ginebra, a tod came and stole my in-game moment away. You... you... obese dog! Canine invasion! Alert!

I'm not used with pets anymore, at the house I mean. We've never had four-legged heroes/heroines lurking around with a wagging tail, an irritating bark, a vibrant soul, some sharp razor-like teeth, and a peeing-pooping thing in one. The closest we've come this last decade was a fish. And fishes don't bark, nor do they meow. They just swim around the tank, silently. Fishes don't try to snap you out of what you're busy with if they ever need food, sleep or a scratch. But don't get me wrong, I love that wagging tail popping around like some waving black balloon in the sky. I'm just saying that the intruder has perfectly disarrayed my life - my day off to be exact.

She gave me a nice heads up last night, or at least that's what I believe. I think I earned some honor from her for letting her sleep on my bed, scratching all over things, staging a scene, exploring the horizons as if she were sight-seeing. Lakwatserang aso. I think she pretty much did everything at the bedroom last night (except for the pooping thing, thank heavens).

So since I practically knew nothing about dogs (except that they shouldn't be fed chocolates), I am trying to Google out stuffs in attempt to understand the canine community. And for the time being, I think she'll just be the stinky dog that's gonna be my bedmate until we know how to carefully bathe her. Until then...

Here goes Haw, my little bro's dachshund/Chiqui to Mama and Dada

Side note: Before getting this post published, my Dada said she'd sleep at their room from now on. I was like 'Why?' But then, at least I don't get to do the clean-the-poop and dish-the-pee part. Plus, at least the parents will have someone to divert attention to whenever their kids are out dating or whatever. ^_^

Feed me: The Birthday Wish List

Reading has always been my first love. I barge into every bookstore there is, amidst the hustles in my life, in search for good reads. True enough, there had been plenty. I bought book after book, trying to rekindle with the lost hobby. Far from being a hobby, it's now my desired collection of sorts. So if you are reading this and if it hits you that my birthday's coming up, you may want to add your book choice to my collection. Consider it a donation for my craving heart who needs to be fed stories.

Thursday tear-jerker

Last Saturday, I did a round to my well-loved NBS. Although I plead with myself to not step a foot on that red store because I know I'm not exiting there empty-handed. At that time, I thought to myself how my feet jerked me around, suddenly taking it upon itself to desire a life of its own and lure me in.

Since my book collection had been dominated by Americans and English writers, it dawned on me that there's no greater love except to love thy own. For that, the Western invasion was on halt to give way to the Philippines' finests. There appeared a recent add to the shelf, it caught my eye (it being the only copy left) and I said to myself, "Quite an interesting cover." And like most people do, I peeked at the back, read, then suddenly lit up with a rotated crescent moon planted on my face. I was sold after reading the snippet, knowing that this Pam Pastor not only had great writing prowess, she's my colleague too.

Although I have this knack for Googling people out, she was an exception, only because I know I'd meet her one day, close enough to let her sign my copy. Until then, she will remain anonymous to me. I even wondered if I might have accidentally ran into her at the wash room, or maybe at the corridors. Oh, it didn't matter, I said to myself

Then, the gods (if it was ever plural), heard me. The chance encounter. The moment. I was frantically holding my book (well, technically it's her book) walking up to her station, and blurted the very common thing one says when you've never seen a person you've heard of.

I: "Pam Pastor?"
PP: Yes?
I: *says nothing, and by instinct, hands her my copy together with a Hello Kitty pen*
PP: What's your name?
I: "Jenna."
PP: How do you spell?
I: "J-e-double n-a."
PP: *strikes my lovely pen at my first ever grab-an-autograph-by-approaching-the-author moment*

She hands me my book back, while she was teased by her department colleagues about stuffs I need not mention because it wasn't necessary, that not being their moment. ^_^

The perky me went back to my corner, shedding a tear out of sheer joy of what had just happened. I then sat and read what she wrote for me. And to share how I adored her penmanship just the same as her message, here it is.