The One with the Sunday Trip

I love weekends, because as my bucket list says, I love reconnecting with people. This Sunday, I got to reconnect with me! For some reason, I just realized that I haven't really gone to other places. I'm so used to going to the mall I love hanging out in, we have an SM next to us which I frequent for groceries, toiletries and yes, even clothes.

So when the opportunity to go to Marriot was presented to me, I had to grab it by its horns. Chloe was kind enough to be my host for the amazing experience I was about to embark on.

First shot of the plaza. Amazing autumn tree with Chinese lanterns. 

Chinese lanterns adorn the facade, to celebrate Chinese New Year. 

Took a picture of the people right below me as well. 

Beautiful square next to the Casino. 

My trip, as usual is peppered by a nice dinner with Moussaka and some Chicken Gyro and pita bread. I can't get enough of the drinks though. I had a drink after weeks of preventing myself from doing so. I love, love, love Mojitos and I can prolly a drink a gallon of it. Along with the drinks came a show.

At first it was POSH, an all girl group that was scantily-clad (think Japanese schoolgirl costumes with butt cheeks showing and all and for their second costume change, they had on some glittering brassieres and silver stretchy pants... it's enough to make me want to crawl back into my oversized black poncho) but singing 70's and 80's songs. It's funny cos at a certain point, they went down to the audience part and passed the mic around. Renz, one of the girls sat beside me and made me sing "Can't Take My Eyes Off You".

Then came Prince of Persia, where there were, of course, scantily-clad women dancing a belly up routine which made me think that I should prolly take up belly dancing cos it looks so darned sexy! They also danced the cancan, which made me think that it had nothing to do with Persia. Another portion of the dance was a Latino Flamenco type of dance that I enjoyed so much.

As we were heading home, Chloe said that it was the perfect revenge, being happy without the guy that tore my heart apart and I looked at her. For a moment, I had to really dig through my mind... And truthfully, without any hesitation, I told her that I forgot about him. I think honestly, I've learned to let go and I'm moving on. It was a Sunday trip I won't forget. I may have lost something along the way, the man I was supposed to marry... but I gained something else - friends, family, my life.

Me and Chloe, hanging out at Cafe Med... Happy after Moussaka and Chicken Gyros. 

Watch out world... I'm back! 

All pictures from this post were taken with a Sony DSC Series camera. 

The One with the Pet Peeves

I can't believe I have to write something like this in the blog. I love nothing more than just praising and raving about things but for crying out loud, sometimes, when people really get into your nerves, it's time to really say something.

1. Texting while walking or driving 

Look where you're about to walk, for cripe's sake! 

This goes without saying. If you're walking around the mall and you're texting, you're prolly more focused on that SMS you're sending than where you're going. Sometimes, people in the mall are actually rushing to get their grocery shopping done, so please, for the love of God, watch where you're walking.

If you're a driver without a soul and you tend to text while driving, please check your rearview mirror for people like me that just want to overtake you but because it's a narrow street, I can't. For the love of all that's holy, please find a way to communicate with you BF/GF/Dad/Mom/Boss/Friend/Friend with Benefits that doesn't involve you being a complete turd on the road. I hope you never get into a road accident because you just have to SMS someone.

2. Loud, loud, loud and lousy music blaring off your speakers in the middle of the night, aggravated by the fact that you sing along with a mic. 

If you look and sound like this chick, I can and will forgive you but otherwise... 

If you're my neighbor, please have the decency to let me sleep in on weekends. Sometimes, I find myself waking up a neighbor's rendition of "Till My Heartaches End" in their scratchy cigarette-husky voices. And please, if you're a mom and you're celebrating your son/daughter's birthday and thought of "renting" a videoke machine to mark the occasion, find a spot in the street where it's not like someone died in your family and you're hosting a funeral! For the love of all that's holy, keep it down, woman! Keep it down! (Is it obvious that I am talking about one specific person?! Well, I am and if you're reading this, good for you! Go fashion forward this season, Madame, and please, take your friends or kids' friends to Red Box where chicken wings won't get you all oily and sweaty and where we won't hear your rendition of "Papa Don't Preach" whilst you dance thinking you're part of the Glee gang!

3. If you're a cab driver - DO NOT HIT ON ME! 

Cabbies - fast and furious, most of them creeps, some of them nice and it makes me want a car more and more. 

I understand the sad plight of cab drivers all around the Metro. I don't push for a discount, I hardly just ever pay the exact meter and I am super nice. Sometimes, when I actually have food, I share my food with them cos I know how hard it is to be working for so long that you don't have time for a little snack. Because a lot of the time, I'm on the road and a lot of my appointments are very flexible in terms of time, I even allow them to refuel, load water and yes, even make the trip to the john while I'm on the passenger seat. Heck, I even ride on the passenger seat, cos I'm not a snob. I like conversations with cabbies.

Some of the cabbies I've spoken with talk about the weather, politics, sports, showbiz (local), a few are actually amazingly elite (There was the one that would talk about his iPhone, while I only have an E71... One was a former Manila Hotel concierge that was just doing a favor for a friend... One owned the cab he was driving - come on, who uses an Altis as a cab?! There was that one guy that was rushing to go to Starbucks after he dropped me off the office cos he was going to meet a friend. Another one was a Spanish teacher in Telus that only drove cabs so he can mingle with the unwashed masses... ack!). A few are just plain creepy!

I have experienced riding with cabbies that would ask for my name, my number, my age, tell me out of nowhere that I'm beautiful, tell me off-hand that real men please their women and would even go as far as give me the "look" (the look that tells you that they're not imagining you in an apron... or maybe they are, except that you're nekkid underneath). Because I work at night and I get dropped off a call centre, there was even one that said that his former GF was from a call centre and that maybe I can be picked up later. I mean come on, guys, not because a woman rides a cab ALONE means she is alone (this is technically true for me). Saturday afternoon cabbie was extremely creepy. Old man with the goatee and the golf hat decided to chat me up in the middle of the road and told me that I was pretty, and raved on and on about how "smooth" I was and that he guesses that I'm smooth and fair all over, and went on about how he hopes that they guy that waited for the cab with me (James, my mean best friend at work) isn't my BF. I chose to ignore "Manong Driver" the whole time and played with my phone instead. He kept saying that he's old but his knees are still strong (Matanda na ako pero malakas pa tuhod ko... in the vernacular). I'm like, OMG, I have to get off this cab! Thankfully, I was a few blocks away and I decided to just get off the street next to mine, where traffic was abound and people were up and about. Mind you, this was at 5PM in the afternoon!

If you're a cabbie and you really need money, creeping lady passengers isn't the way to do it. And if you're a cabbie and you're not there for the money but for something else, please, keep your thoughts and your eyes off me! I don't appreciate it!

4. If you're a commuter and you have a soul, please bathe, brush your teeth and be clean before riding a train or jeepney and please make sure that if you're not fresh-smelling anymore, that you have the decency to at least close your mouth or not wave your pits at me or anyone else. It's nauseating. 

Are these for sale, cos sometimes, I think I badly need one. 

I'm not preggers and I'm not going to be in the next 5 years or so (ack, see how well I've planned my life out?!) but for the love of God, whenever I alight from a public commuter train, the only thing I wanna do is hurl. One, there's just way too many passengers. Apart from the immeasurable number of people and the heat and the dirt coming off the A/C unit of the beat-up carriages, the smell of people really troubles me. I tolerate sweat just fine, but come on... if you forgot your Rexona earlier in the day, have the decency to keep your arms on your sides for the benefit of those that breathe the same air as the one stagnantly staying in your area. Also, if you haven't brushed for the day, try to buy some candy. They cost 50 cents a pop, and smelling mixed saliva and red cherry candy may be better than smelling some rotting cabbage off your mouth. I smoke a lot and I am not fresh all the time but I will have the decency to keep my pits to my arms instead of waving it around, and I will also not open my mouth so close to another human being, especially if that human being is not a friend!

5. If you're ordering coffee and there's a queue, please freakin' make up your mind before you're in the freakin' queue!!! Also, if you're a mom, please don't take your son/daughter with you to the smoking area of the coffee shop and give me stares when I light up! If you're an older woman who have had your experience in the world, please don't judge me because I like nicotine with my caffeine. If you see me light up a joint, that's the time you should raise your eyebrows at me, old-timer! 

Getting coffee used to be fun until everyone else wanted in on it. 

I have almost had it with people who can't get enough of themselves, their opinions and their newest designer coffee! Starbucks used to be fun before it became the next MiniStop or 7-11. Imagine being there to start your day and you have to fall in line next to a mom on her cellphone with her 5-year old son latched on to her leg, a guy that's obviously just there to scope out the scene, a couple PDA-ing (Read: Public Display of Affection) and 10,000 other call centre employees. Then check out this other scenario I encountered last time I went to meet up with a friend - an older woman in the counter of Starbucks and using her senior citizen discount card, to the bemusement and puzzlement of the baristas cos they prolly don't know how to deduct a certain percentage off the actual price of the coffee... and I'm the next one. My friend had to circle round the place cos he can't even park his car!

What's worse is when you actually sit in the smoking area of some of the biggest Starbucks around. I experienced a mom staring so angrily at me cos she had her daughter with her in the smoking area. I mean, mom, seriously, there's a reason why it's called a smoking area. I wasn't gonna light up but then her husband alighted from their car and started lighting up too. So, is it a woman thing? Like I'm supposed to understand that the only second-hand smoke you want you daughter to inhale is your husband's? Let me tell you one thing, sister, they're all pretty much cancerous, so if I were in your shoes, I would actually take my daughter and sit inside, where it's cozy and A/C'd and I would kick my imbecile husband for exposing me and my daughter to that cancerous vice! Second of which, I won't even bring my daughter to a Starbucks cos what the heck is she gonna drink? Apple Berry Juice Freeze?! Why give her a 100 peso designer drink when I can take her someplace that has healthy options for her like an actual fruit shake with yoghurt?! Don't even get me started on the desserts there cos it just ain't the family place you think it is.

Also, people, if you smoke and you wanna take grandpoppy and grandmommy or mum and pop with you to Starbucks, seat them where they don't smell cigarette smoke, please?! I mean come on... There's this older woman that kept making unnecessary noises when she was left seated in the balcony of a Timog Starbucks once cos she kept smelling smoke. She would roll her eyes when I light up. I mean come on, Madame... It's a smoking area. If you didn't notice that off the sign, please look around and know that while I may be the only woman lighting up, I'm not the only one lighting up. It's not Victorian England. Yes, I can drive, I can earn as much as a male counterpart, I can shoot a gun with one eye closed and yes, I can smoke cigarettes when I have my coffee. If I choose to die of lung cancer, it's by choice.

No photographers were harmed during the making of this post. 
All photos were obtained legally via Stock Xchnge. 

The One with the Prodigal Friends

We tend to categorize friends. I think it's a fair assessment to say that we have really close friends who know every little dirty secret we've ever had (from the fact that you used to collect Peter Andre CDs as a 12-year old freckle-faced girl and dancing to the tune of "Mysterious Girl" in the wee hours of the morning to the most recent guilt trip your momma/poppa/significant other/sibling/boss gave you cos of <insert random reason here>). Then you have work friends who don't really have a choice but to take your crap every day of their lives cos you're there and they need to deal with you. Then there's your breakfast or common lunch buddies on weekends who prolly live the same lifestyle as you (which for me means work, head home, check FB and Twitter, perhaps read some Wikipedia entries, play some games online and on random weekends, have a friend over for lunch or head off to the mall and get cracking on some long overdue shopping). Depending on your lifestyle, you can have churchmates, drinking dudes, gimmick entourage, an arsenal of gym buddies, your team of sports fanatics, online fans who follow you on every social networking site but you've never actually met, your own league of warrior princesses and princes for MMORPGs and in some extreme cases, even an FB (friends with benefits, or FuBu).

I have amazing friends and I won't trade trade them for anything in the world. But I had the opportunity to reconnect with someone I have not seen for almost a decade.

Meet Ajeet, my crazy, sarcastic and amazing friend from 10 years ago...

Hawt right? Girls, this guy's available. We can talk about the price if you PM me. Lolz! 

And we had an adventure. I think it's amazing how when you don't really think about anything, you tend to have a lot of fun.

I actually spent 8 hours hopping from one bar to another on a Sunday night! Well, technically, it's just 2 bars, hahaha! 

I'm really glad that I spent that Sunday with Ajeet. We had coffee in Breton and then moved to the Blue Room (where Jazz and old 80's songs were playing) and then off to a place called Silya.

Silya... looks like a house but not quite... 

For those unaware and unknowing of the Malate scope, they have the high-end bars and then they have the bars that look like houses, and this is where you get the cheapest beers and the most affordable eats. You can also have people performing like crazy.

This is the first time I ever sang in front of other people holding a mic. Imagine my surprise when my once very shy and slightly angsty friend started belting out his rendition of a Filipino love song!

I had a wonderful night and I really wouldn't trade it for anything else! Cheers to reconnecting!

All pictures were taken with a Sony DSC series cam. 
Ajeet himself is a blog author. Check out his rants and raves at Read This and Die. 

The One with my Godson

Have you been a really, really good godparent? It's common in the Philippines to ask classmates, friends and even colleagues to become a godparent. You should never refuse if you get asked, lest you be cursed by the ancient ancestors of the land. Because I don't claim citizenship of the world, and I always proudly state that I am born and bred Filipino, I will always abide by its laws, written or otherwise.

But being a godmom to Xander is a joy. Last Saturday, I really wanted to spend time with Aileen, Yogi and Xander.

Had lunch at Mango Bistro in Trinoma. 

Had Pad Thai - amazing fusion of flavors! 

Had some chicken stir fried and wrapped in banana leaves. It had a sweet and spicy sauce. 

It was a fun day of catching up, venting about things we shouldn't vent about but we do still, sharing of experiences, realizations and even the weirdest things that happen to us. It was like old times, when we would hang out after work and make Starbucks a more powerful conglomerate by purchasing an Americano, an Apple Berry Juice Freeze and an Iced Latte with side orders of cheesecakes, breakfast muffins, ciabatta veggie sandwiches and some fish in foccacia.

The main event was when we got to Aileen's house. Seeing Xander lying down is just a joy.

So cute even when he's crying! 

So adorable. Xander looking at Uncle Aldrin. 

That's got to be one of the cutest, hottest and most amazing-looking boy on earth! High five, Aileen and Arnel! 

I got to hold him for some time. I lasted all of 5 minutes cos he started crying. I'm still scared when I hear something weird, like a whimper, a wheeze, a burp... I am not ready to be a mother.

But nothing is more beautiful than seeing a mother hold her child.

All pictures are taken with a simple Sony Cybershot. I'm a point and shoot gal until I can afford a DSLR. 
No babies were harmed during the making of this post, except my probable ones thanks to coffee and nicotine. 

The One with the January Bucket List

The Bucket List was such a moving story for me that I decided to review it years ago! I loved the concept, I credited Jack Nicholson for the beautiful, softer side he showed during the eulogy scene for the death of Morgan Freeman's character. It made me cry, laugh and finally sigh.

The bucket list is a collection of things that you want to do before you die. Every month, I promised to post little things that I wanted to do if I were to die this month. For some reason, I'd rather post about my bucket list towards the middle of the month. I really have the tendency not to tell people what I want to do until I'm sure I want to do it. So here it goes.

Yup, sometimes, you have to believe that you're dying to live. 

Meg's January Bucket List 
1. Get to reconnect with people I haven't seen for a long time.
Status: Done. But January's not over. 
2. Read a good book. Haven't done so for ages!
Status: Uhm, when I get a free weekend off. 
3. Establish a good habit (as opposed to quitting a bad one).
Status: I have posted pics of it. But well, we'll have a month-ender review of the bucket list. 
4. Find an activity partner and go to places you haven't gone to before.
Status: Several activity partners whom I love spending time with! 
5. Learn something new everyday.
Status: Trying to witness the world with wide-eyed wonder (alliterating much?) 

If I was to believe that I'd die tomorrow, I would probably find more things to do. Looking at my life in hindsight, though, I can easily say that I lived my life with no regrets. Adventure doesn't quite thrill me though I would love to know what it feels like to jump off a cliff barely hanging it via a piece of rope. I want to center my life with great and amazing people that can see the good in the world.

It's a fancy, amazing thought to finish everything at a glance. It's just 5 things but some of them, I haven't even started just yet. I am ready to face the world thinking living. Bring it on!

No photographers were harmed during the making of this post. 
All pictures were obtained legally from Stock Xchnge. 

The One with the Rebound

rebound - (n) an undefined period following the break up of a romantic relationship. The term's use dates to at least the 1830s, when Mary Russell Mitford wrote of "nothing so easy as catching a heart on the rebound".

This didn't really make sense to me until a few months ago. To be honest, prior to finding my ex, I always defined rebound as this pharmacological phenomenon of returning symptoms when you discontinue or stop taking a medication <read: pain coming back after you stop taking pain-killers>. 

Right, it could be about basketball too, but then I never really understood basketball! 

Nowadays, being on the rebound means you're physically with someone with little to no emotions and you're just going through the motions of being in a relationship. Perhaps to wean yourself off the pain or being dumped, moreover, to increase your confidence that someone would be with you in a relationship. 

Hard to glue the pieces back together when your heart is broken. 

You can always say that life is somewhat fair. It gives you what you need exactly when you need it. Others turn to friends, some turn to an ex, some turn to their family, some find someone new. And it's always a rebound. 

A couple of months back, there was someone I thought I might have genuine feelings for. He would flirt, he would be affectionate and would talk to me for hours. That affection is gone. Perhaps, he got tired of my obsession to analyze things. Perhaps it was just a fleeting thing. In any case, was he my rebound guy? I would think back and look at his Facebook profile and laugh at his status and always wonder, does he ever look at my status? Would he ever pick up his phone and give me a call and wonder if he ever pursued me, would there be a real chance at a future? All I know is he left me better than he ever found me, and if this is what rebounding is supposed to be, I'm happy he rebounded with me. 

Sometimes, I wonder if I'll ever find a guy that's tall, dark and handsome. Should I settle for a shadow? 

If you ask me if I hate him, no. Am I disappointed? Not really. I expected the worst and hoped for the best. Will I ever find someone "better" than him? Maybe. Who knows? But for now, I am happy that I met him and I was able to express my affection. 

Oh, and the best thing about it is, if he's a drug, I didn't have a "rebound" phenomenon. <scroll up if you forgot what that meant>

No photographers were harmed intellectually during the making of this blog post. 

All photos were taken from Stock Xchnge. 

The One with the Thursday Trips

For a person hitting his/her 30s, sometimes, you face questions about your career, your marital status, your weight and your lifestyle. You rarely get questions about your faith, unless you're friends with devout and zealous church-goers. More often than not, people tend to ask you more about your earthly definition of happiness, truth and faith more than you're asked about your afterlife. 

Back then, I always thought that heaven is a system of earning brownies points. Do a good deed and keep it in a spiritual bank account, save it up and life with God and the angels would be a certainty. I think a lot of people have that same concept. We often think that there's a million ways to get to heaven and a lot less ways to get into hell. We always have a concept that God is loving and forgiving, so we try to do good, and be good. Now, I think I know better. 

People often go to church, but they're still trying to figure out their faith.

The one thing I often don't understand is how people from various sects and religions often criticize those that don't belong to their faith. People yoking with unbelievers is often unheard of in certain beliefs. It's an issue when it comes to marriage, jobs and for some people, even friends. 

With Jessie and Candy in this place we call "Liempuhan". 

Jessie, Candy and I go to this church called St. Jude in Manila. We either eat first, then we go to church, or we go to church first and eat. It's a combination of everything - reflections on the day, the week, the year, then a slightly spiritual experience that you tend to want after a long day.

Interior of the church, here for the novena. 

The church is so bright, with beautiful stained glass windows. 

More of the interior. 

Excellently executed altar. 

The last homily I heard from the parish priest was about lepers. Those lepers from the time of Christ have to leave their homes, their families and wear a sign that says to the world that they need to be feared and isolated. Sometimes, everyone feels like a leper. We sometimes tend to feel alone and that no one would be there to care for us. Sometimes, life is a bully and so are the people that surround us. 

I wonder if, on the flip side, those that tend to point their fingers ever wonder about being bullies themselves. I have had people telling me that what I do is wrong, that I'm evil and that I will go to hell. People tend to be self-righteous when they feel like they have done everything you just have to do. I have been a leper and I probably still am in those people's eyes. 

The other day, I had my brush with this type of bullying. A person knocked on the door and asked me if I wanted to be saved by God's power. I said my thanks and told him it's ok. He remained on the door and said "Kapatid, mas mainam kung makikinig ka sa totoong Diyos Ama, at wag maniniwala sa iba." <read: Sister, it's better if you listen to the real Heavenly Father and don't believe in others...>

I'm not a very "religious" person. I'm not self-righteous and I certainly welcome any type of faith. I have no right to tell anyone what kind of faith or belief they should be practicing. I'm just glad I live at a time and a place where you can practice what feels right. Everyone has their own beliefs and I'm glad I am keeping my own. 

Note: No photographers were harmed intellectually during the making of this post. Pictures that were not taken by **meg** were obtained legally from Stock Xchng. 

Candy is a blog author herself. Read riveting revelations about Candy on her blog. 

The One with the Fairytales

Something I wrote in November 13, 2008. Edited and annotated for everyone's sake. 

I will never let my children read fairy tales - ever! Especially when I have a daughter...

We all love tiaras but it ain't worth it. 

See, one of the things that fairy tales taught me was to hope for a prince in his shining silver armor, in his white horse to come and rescue me from everything that I am in. It seems that every woman in my age group still has that notion that someday, their princes will come. 

Somehow, it's not good for the female psyche. It sucks that while most women have the ability to run Fortune 500 companies, or have the ability to perform as a hyphenate, they still have the notion that marriage is the finality of the race - IE: the finish line.

I saw my Tita the other day, and she stayed over for breakfast (french toast, wieners and fruit, thank you very much...), she asked me about my "marriage plans". I said I have a boyfriend and that we're very happy to which she prodded, "What, ayaw niya matali sa yo?" (Literal translation: "What, he doesn't want to be tied to you?")

The problem with "well-meaning relatives" is that they have the ability to make you feel less deserving than when you first started dating. When I was 24, I was being asked for a boyfriend. Now that I am 27, I am being asked for a husband. It's like no one wants to talk about how I single-handedly organized the training department of a young company and how I made sure that the training evaluation program was set in place. No one wants to talk about how I got off a car accident alive last year. No one wants to talk about how smooth my skin is thanks to the new Clean and Clear Refreshing Wash I use which is a steal at only Php 119.00. Everyone - well-meaning relatives or not, want to talk about how important marriage is, like I'll never get my happily ever after if I don't get married soon.

**meg**: I'm now almost 30, and I'm still asked the same damned question. Imagine that! Saying we broke up and that I got dumped never gets them to back off... 

I smiled halfway through my delicious french toast (made with skimmed milk - thanks to how anal I am when it comes to cooking healthier food for my folks), and sat there - perplexed. I gave her the envelope she needed and proceeded to the dirty kitchen to smoke one good stick of cigarette.

While Cinderella might have been a non-smoker, the tar and coal and everything in that fireplace might have given her enough high for the days when she had to clean the fireplace. I thought about what my aunt said. And thought about why my boyfriend doesn't want to marry me. It's just not time yet. I totally get that. It sucks because I see the logic in this whole waiting game. I just don't understand why sometimes, I'm gripped with fear that he will march off and leave.

Yes, no one actually did this for me. 

Somehow, I get the idea. I understand that I'm not Rapunzel with the long hair, I'm not Snow White with the seven dwarves. I'm no Cinderella either. I'm just not a princess, and I'm not looking for a prince. I'm just a simple woman, who wants a simple man. But indeed, life is complicated. There's no happily ever after. There's work to be done after a relatonship comes alive - and you really have to do everything to make it happen.

**meg**: Yes, well, everything in its own time. 


Note: No photographers were harmed intellectually during the making of this post. Pictures that were not taken by **meg** were obtained legally from Stock Xchng. 

Candy is a blog author herself. Read riveting revelations about Candy on her blog. 

The One with the Baby

Last Saturday, I was able to see my long-time (as in long-time, like since Nursery, man!) friend. Cym. She's is married with 2 kids, the eldest Ela being my godchild.

I have always loved kids. I even taught in an Episcopalian church during weekends about a decade ago so I can curb my need to be around children (that just made me sound like a total perv) but there's this "maternal yearning" to be around children. I find them cute, adorable, lovable... and yes, even the screaming ones.

Caleb smiling... 

Cym helping Ela with her homework. 

Who won't love that smile? 

Around 4 years ago, I was diagnosed with a condition called PCOS (Polycystic Ovary Syndrome). It's not life-threatening. I just remember that I was told five things:

1. Good luck having babies but they can help me out when I'm ready. I was given pamphlets and brochures on assisted fertilization.
2. I was told to expect weight gain (As if I wasn't fat enough at that time). I remember being told that no matter what I do, I will gain weight. So, there's no use fighting it. Just love the skin you're in.
3. I was told to cut back on the sugar (no more sugary treats from Starbucks or Coffee Bean).
4. I had to take a plethora of medications. Some of which aggravated headaches, made me nauseated every darned time, let me retain so much water that I felt bloated every day and some even caused me a lot of mood swings!
5. I had to undergo an invasive diagnostic test every 6 months to check how well the medication was doing.

Remember that 4 years ago, not much was known about this disease. Doctors would pretty much ascribe what I had to something related to the pituitary gland, obesity, diabetes or anything to that effect. So religiously, I would go to the doctor, undergo the invasive diagnostic test and lie as quietly (without shaking so badly) as I can while they check my internal organs for more damage.

Last December 28th, I visited my doctor once more.

I got a clean bill of health - well, not really free and clear, because I was a very good patient, a good number of unruptured follicles have gone. There's only 3 left on both ovaries, unlike when they started testing for my follicles and I had about 20 for each ovary (yes kids, there are two ovaries, the left and the right...).  This meant that I can now have kids, I can finally try to lose weight and there might be some results and more importantly, they have weaned me off a lot of the medications that caused nausea, mood swings and severe bloating (yay for skinny jeans!).

During the diagnostic procedure, my doctor told me in her old rich Filipino accent, "Finally, after years of treating you, you can now have babies... eh paano yan, single ka na... <read: Too bad you're single now> Well you know, you can get sperm donors now. I can tell my other doctor friends noh.".

Ah such is irony.

For now, I'll live vicariously through my friends.

The One with the Sexy Back

Something I want to share with everyone. A post from a long time ago. This was on my Multiply page, composed on November 21, 2007.

My Disclaimer: Have you read a Jessica Zafra essay? Well, this is one of them. Self-mockery, to my belief, is the best form of flattery. To people who are faint-hearted, easily insulted and lack the sense of humor I need for my audience may very well just stop reading from this period on. Thanks!


I can't sleep. I've been up since 4 in the morning, trying to get some shut-eye. I can't believe that I'm still not asleep... So I'm cuddling with my laptop, wondering what the heck to write about when I chanced upon a sexy picture of Rose Byrne and Brad Pitt from the movie Troy.

From livingco.tv.uk. Brad Pitt and Rose Byrne in the movie "Troy".
Damn he's hot. 

I just sort of realized that the media is full of sexy images. And a girl needs to do everything to sort of catch up. I guess this is the reason why Anne Hathaway had to take her clothes off, or why we make such icons out of Pamela Anderson and Paris Hilton, both of which had their own homemade videos to sell online.

So, if we look up to these icons, and men worship them, how's a normal everyday 20-something clod to compare? I mean, I am definitely no Paris Hilton, nor am I near Pamela Anderson. I am most definitely not a Selma Blair, a Sienna Miller or Mandy Moore. I am an Alex Borstein in a world of Drew Barrymores and Demi Moores. Am I making any sense? I guess what I'm saying is I'm a fat, bloated woman in a world of women who took the 60-day fab-abs challenge and won! Makes you want to rethink fitting into a nice dress for work tonight eh?

The thing is, I never really see myself as someone who should be worried about the way she looks. I am perfectly happy with the way I look. I am surrounded by beautiful, smart and darn right sexy women who sort of experience the same insecurity as I do. Some think that their tummy is bigger than their boobs, some think that their boobs are too small, some think that their thighs are as huge as Meralco posts. Honestly, the list goes on and on and on and on and on... and women tend to be as petty as possible. I remember a friend actually telling me that she'll sell her soul to have abs like one of the models we worked with on a photo shoot. I was an apprentice stylist then, and when I was indeed dressing Miss Patches (people who actually style other people, I think you know what I mean...), she bluntly told me "Pangit ng skin ko noh?! Buti pa yung skin mo, ang puti-puti..." <read: her skin is worse than mine, my skin is whiter.... In the Philippines, whiter skin is more favored, I guess?>

So what am I about to say... Yeah, somehow, for some oddball reason, when you look at someone else, there's always something of them you wish you had. I want to have Rose Byrne's face. I want to have Demi Moore's figure. I want to have Mandy Moore's eyes. I want to have Hayden Panettiere's skin. I want to be as cool as Avril Lavigne. And of course, when all else fails, I want to have Pamela Anderson's body. So, what am I doing to achieve any of these things? Nothing.

I think there's just an endless plethora of things to work on as a person. I can have my teeth whitened and have a tummy tuck... I can probably go for an overhaul. But you  know what, no... I believe that in some weird forsaken tribes in the Amazon, women like me, bring the sexy back to the tribe and I rule... :)

I'm absolutely bringing sexy back... Hahaha! 

The One with the Appreciation

I recently got a package from my boss, Senior Training Manager, Sonja. This is the first time someone actually gave me a stationery set with my name on it!

Cute pattern, and I'm glad she didn't choose hearts and butterflies for me. She chose a pattern she probably saw from a dress I wore, or perhaps a notebook scribble she saw when she attended a meeting with me. 

Intentionally took a fuzzy shot, I like mystery. If you google my name, you might see something shocking! Hahaha! 

Yes, she calls me Megz. 

I even got a tag that says "enjoy". I love it! 

Sonja, love, love, love it!

The One with the Instructional Design

Whenever I meet up with high school, college and other work friends, I really have to explain what I currently do. I'm an Instructional Systems Designer. So if you had enough time to actually understand what you just read off Wikipedia, if you read up, that is, I am someone that practices Bloom's Taxonomy, ADDIE and Rapid Prototyping (at times). I'm someone that decided to embrace the 9 Events of Gagne and tries to hit all the bells and whistles of the VAK Learning Types.

Simply put, I design corporate learning materials. 

I feel a little bit like Chandler Bing. No one knows or remembers what the heck I do for a living, and when simply asked, they say "Trainer". 

So here's what I am really doing. 

1. I get assigned a topic. That topic could range from new hire orientation to a new IT system to expense reimbursement or company principles. I usually say I get assigned fluff topics, primarily because I tend to get the long-winded ones which aren't based on systems or procedures. I get the policy-driven ones.

Yes and there's lots of paperwork too! I mainly do HR courses. 

2. I read up on it. I research on the net. I contact several thousands of SMEs (subject matter experts) and try to squeeze a little time in their calendars either virtually or via phone. Yes, it's tedious, but nothing gets me more riled up than actually getting to talk to a SME that's excellently succinct and direct to the point. 

A lot of them hide behind their schedules, but that's fine. They are still loved so long as I get approved.

3. I then get cracking on development. Depending on what's needed, I just get cracking asap. If it's an instructor-led training, I work on a presentation first, then a facilitator guide, then a participant guide or a job aid. If it's an eLearning module, I get cracking on the platform it's supposed to be in. I currently know a system called Toolbook and Adobe Presenter. I'm kind of good with Captivate, but only when I'm actually capturing video off my screen. I've tried my hand at doing Flash before, but using SoThink and SWFer from Merlin. 

Yes, it's a pretty grueling job considering how big a chatterbox I am. But I like chatting over the phone anyhow. 

4. I show my SMEs and then get editing. 

Erase and rewrite... If you know the Cardigan song, this would be pretty funny. If you don't then boo hoo... look it up. 

5. Final approval comes right after the edits. I usually run it by the Senior Training Manager first and when she approves, then I run it by the sponsors, the SMEs and whomever will be training the piece. 

It's definitely desk work, and there's a lot more intricacies in actually making a module work. Like I told a good friend earlier, I think a good trainer dumbs things down. An Instructional Designer makes the "dumbing down" look intelligent, such that no one would think it's condescending and as mentioned earlier, it hits all the bells and whistles it needs to hit for retention. 

So, that's my work. I am getting paid to actually see things from a learner's perspective and how it works in his/her mind so they'd retain it. 

So, in case you're wondering how grueling a job is it? It's an 8 hour job, I work at night to be able to consult with the corporate SMEs, and the sponsors. 

And we go on breaks, don't worry, cos we really do... In fact... 

This was taken last Friday. Jessie and Ivan locked in Chess Supremacy battle while Iris and Candy looks on. 

Yeah, I gave them the Chess set. It's a cheap version of it... a piece of colored paper. 

That's Ivan trying to concentrate. 

While Jessie looks bored. Iris looks more concentrated on the game! Hahaha! 

So if you're wondering why I love this job... it's because there's nothing I would love in this world more than to touch one person's life. If I helped make someone remember something that would help them in their jobs, I would have made a difference. 

Oh and my teammates rock too! 

Note: No photographers were harmed intellectually during the making of this post. Pictures that were not taken by **meg** were obtained legally from Stock Xchng. 


Candy is a blog author herself. Read riveting revelations about Candy on her blog.