random.

last week, while shopping for new year's eve dinner at raley's, a man looked at the contents of my cart and went, "so you like meat huh?"  he was the cute grandfather type and he said it with a mischievous smile so i didn't mind the intrusion into my otherwise "private" cart.  i mean, who does that?  i don't go around perusing other people's purchases.  

so i obliged him and said, "well, yes i do."  

"did you know that they are cloning meat?  it was on the news.  they will soon be selling cloned meat in supermarkets."

"is that right?  did they say when they were gonna start doing that?"

"pretty soon, i guess.  they can clone everything now.  they can even clone you."

"hahaha!  i think it'd be too much for the world to have two or three of me!"

he laughed like how i pictured a cute grandfather would — heartily –  and walked away.

i just love it when people strike up random conversations with me.  

and onward i march.

i refuse to feel bad about the new year. i refuse to look at other people's accomplishments and allow myself to wallow in self-pity:  because it seems i didn't do anything significant with my life in the past year.  

and yet.

despite my resolve, i find that — my cynicism over new year's resolutions notwithstanding — i itch for some kind of to-do list, to make up for last year's utter lack of direction and purpose.  and so, much to my own chagrin, here is a short list of my "goals" for this year:

1.  get (as opposed to find) a job — any job — before february ends

2.  actively cultivate old and new friendships (very very lazy in this area the past year)

3.  smile more, worry less

4.  handle the budget with as tight a fist as i can

5.  call my dad more

6.  sleep early and wake up early (i wasted so many beautiful sunny mornings by doing the opposite)

7.  EXERCISE

i guess seven is a good number.  yeah, let's keep it short.  even now, even as i look at this list, i wonder if i can do all of these to the letter.  

i'm keeping my fingers crossed.

warm me up, my electric love.

i don't know when or how i will ever get used to the winters here.  which is so lame because this is california after all.  i haven't even been near places where it snows.  i'd die if i were to live in new york in the thick of winter, i'm pretty sure of it.  

lately it's been so cold, with temperatures dipping to the 20s (fahrenheit).  inside the house, i have to keep the thermostat in the 70s.  the result:  astronomical gas bills!  the hub has been very supportive of my quest for things to keep me warm — comforters, fleece blankets, thick jackets, sweaters, all-weather socks, furry slippers.  nothing worked…  until… the amazing invention that is the electric blanket.  i've had two nights of blissful, uninterrupted sleep with my new bedtime friend.  and at more than fifty percent off, it was a great buy.  christmas sales are just the bomb!

hopefully, we'll see a little improvement in our next bill.  but then again, isn't it the norm that in winter, gas rates are up and in the summer, electricity rates are up as well?  why oh why can't it be the other way around?  *sigh*

RR (rachael ray) i’m not.

 
i was no princess…  and i have no excuse when i say that before i came here, i didn't even know how to boil an egg (of course i knew how to fry it).  it took me a few minutes on the net to find out that the way to do it is to put some water in a pan, put the egg or eggs in, let the eggs stay five minutes after the water has boiled, and then voila! — hard-boiled eggs.

come to think of it, i do have a couple of excuses.  we had a cook at home, and my mother never ever  cooked.  i never even saw her hold a ladle once in her life.  so imagine my horror when, moving out of my aunt's house (where we stayed for 4 months), i realized that i had to do the cooking.  

my lifeline came in the form of K, a friend who grew up here but went home to the pinas to finish her high school there.  she moved back to the US some years ago but never lost her bisaya accent and her penchant for cooking.  so from time to time, in between the corned beef and spam lunches/dinners that i subjected the hub to, i would call her up and ask her how to make adobo or crispy fried chicken.  in time, i learned to experiment with recipes i found on the internet.  some became favorites, while others ended up as disasters.  

i go for really simple dishes, those that are less complicated than rachael ray's 30-minute meals.  adobo, humba, fried chicken, pork chops, shrimps, pasta and the like.  if there are more than 5 ingredients on a dish, it's out.  i don't have enough patience for all the chopping and the preparation that goes with say, chop suey or a true blue pancit dish.  if i can buy it pre-marinated or frozen-and-ready-to-fry, you bet i'd buy it, like those marinated pork barbecue and frozen lumpiang shanghai at the filipino store.  still, on most days, i like to make things from scratch.  i want to know what goes into what i'm eating.  canola oil and no MSG, please.  easy on the salt, if i can help it.  well, this is to compensate for all the meat that is our food, the hub being averse to veggies.  (oh i've tried, let me tell ya.  the potatoes and carrots go uneaten and the one time i forced him to eat green beans, he almost puked.  poor thing.)

part of the problem is i do like meat as well.  take me to the local max's resto and i'd order crispy pata faster than you can open the menu.  one of my favorite things to cook is rib-eye steak, rubbed with salt, pepper, garlic powder and steak seasoning and pan-fried in olive oil and butter.  simple, quick, and oh so delicious.

some nights ago, i had a craving for something greasy and crunchy.  so i made my own version of chicharon.  well, we'd like to call it pinakupsan.  the hub told me how his dad used to make it and i just went from there.  i am happy to note that it was a success.  crispy and oh so good dipped in vinegar laced with lots of salt.  yum!

i think i might have to cook it again one of these nights.  and maybe pair it with shrimp sinigang.  perfect for these cold winter nights.

promise me.

last night, i crept to your bedside to make sure you were breathing.  it wasn't always like this.  the world wasn't always this big and what we have, small and intimate.  i plant a kiss on your forehead, leave you to your dreams, move on to other worries.  when you leave, i relinquish you to angels.  when you return to me, i say a silent thanks.  another day of hugs and big fat sloppy kisses, pulp fiction and kill bill and reservoir dogs and quentin in general, private jokes, comfortable silences, the laundry, cold cereal, hot baths, cuddling under the covers, a a fascination for area 51 and UFOs and a love for japanese food.  i try to imagine a solitary life.  and reel.  i can't.  i won't. don't.  just don't.  promise me.  promise me. 

it kills.

it kills me that she calls, tells me how hard life is, how the kids could go without…  and i can't help her.  not right now.  not right away.

one of these days, i have to come through.  i have to.

bridesmaid ka lang!

i have just been appointed bridesmaid at my cousin's june 2007 wedding.  a bridesmaid… how strange, at my age.  but she said not to worry, all the other bridesmaids are married and around my age too.  after all, her fiance is 13 years older than her.  naturally, the groom's men would most probably be in their early 40's too.

so i breathed a sigh of relief.  and i proceed to daydream about the dress and my hair and make-up.  june, as in any other month in the philippines, will be humid.  i worry mostly about my make-up melting in my face faster than the bride and groom can say "i do."  but then again, i leave that problem to the hopefully skillful make-up artist.

so it is final then:  i am going home.  whatever doubts i previously had, i must now set aside.  there was that plan to go back to school.  and this thing about finances, 2007 being the reckoning year of mortgage payments and tight budgets.  but she is my dearest cousin, the one i am closest to.  it was she who met us at the airport, who took us around the beautiful city of san francisco and to napa valley during our first few weeks here in the US.  she who was (and is) always generous with her time and her ear and her home.  i don't tell her but i do love her.  so i will make sure i am there standing at the church in my three-inch heels, melted make-up and fabulous bridesmaid's dress as she vows to love and cherish the one man she's been with the last 4 years.  i hope he knows how lucky he is.

i cannot see beyond or outside the wedding.  i don't know who i will be seeing or meeting up with when i get there.  there's M, of course, that's for sure.  everyone else i seem to have lost contact with, not least of all my supposed bestfriend K.  the last time i tried to call her, she was too busy with a client.  after that, i stopped trying.  i am counting on what people say — with real friends, you always pick up where you left off.

i am not excited yet.  it's still too far off to be in that state.  but the thought of CNT lechon, guadalupe mangoes, chicharon, ngohiong, and pastillas (the kind you buy at that stall in SM) is enough to make me homesick and hungry.

a slight confusion of terms.

nostalgia:  a wisftul desire to return in thought or in fact to a former time in one's life, to one's home or homeland, or to one's family and friends; the sentimental yearning for the happiness of a former place or time:  a nostalgia for his college days.

’tis the season for some rotten apples.

in my other blog site, i have been very generous with my praise for the state of customer service here in the US.  i have great admiration for this country's customer service people, with their ready smile and their sincere desire to help their customers.  but among the freshest of apples, there are a few rotten ones that need to be thrown out.  the first rotten apple of the season belongs to the wal-mart basket. 

M.

ah, she gets me.  there are fewer pleasures in life than knowing that somewhere in this big, vast universe, someone gets you. 

F is "not" your friend on friendster.

rejection in any form and by anyone stings.  my invitation to become someone's friend on friendster has just been rejected.  or so i think.  consider the proof:  first, there was no confirmation that typically says "so and so is now your friend on friendster."  second and more importantly, my invite is not on my friendster's "waiting for confirmation" page. 

apparently, i'm the only one who thinks it is possible for exes to be friends — in friendster or outside of it.

Z right choice.

i call him dr.  Z –  and i love him.  my doctor.  my OB-GYN.

male or female OB-GYN?

at 33, i have yet to have a pap smear/test.  don't ask me why. the issue just never came up, i guess. or it did but i just always put it on the back burner.

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and with all this preoccupation about my pap test, i forgot to ask for my flu shot today.

moving in.

we just moved into our very own house, from an old and tiny apartment some 30 miles away.  we've lived there a year and three months.  for a couple who migrated from the philippines barely two years ago, having our own house (well "having" isn't exactly the right word since there is that mortgage to be paid off) is a very big deal.  at least to us.

the reluctant mom.

i keep changing my mind about wanting a baby.  i am 33, in the throes of turning 34, and i still can't make up my mind.  a part of me wants to know how it feels like to carry a baby in my womb for 9 whole months, to smell a baby's milky breath, to see its first smile, its first yawn, to hear its first laughter, its first word. 

i blog.

i blog because there are things that are better left said — like how the weather is just so beautiful in the early fall, or how moving into a new house is a big adventure, or why one should be allowed to change her mind about life-altering decisions. 

i blog because the heart is too small for big emotions, and the mind and its capacity to remember cannot always be trusted.