six-hour Christmas lunch

I've had a wonderful Christmas season so far..."so far" because I have yet to attend a number of Christmas get-togethers with different sets of friends. I'd probably party 'til February 2011...yipee!

The Christmas party with the Samonte clan was fun with lots of laughter and singing and dancing and chasing around the kids. It was such a delight and a wonderful assurance to see the family grow - both in weight and size and in number. Christmas eve with my sister's family and in-laws was just as fun what with stories told and a new techie game, Kinect, played by kids and those "feeling kids".

I know I've used this word quite a lot but "fun" was exactly what we had when my friends and I had our party at the newly built house of my BFFeee. We played games not usually played during Christmas parties - hide and seek, Pepsi-Seven Up, etc. BFFee Baby and I joined 3-year old Erica in her Waka-Waka dance presentation. Erica looked so refreshingly cute dancing to the African tune while Baby and I...well, "nakakata-cute" may be THE word to describe us.

Although these parties were filled with fantastic food and exhilarating games and lively stories and melodic sound of happy laughter made more special by the presence of family and great friends, I'd have to say that the most meaningful Christmas get-together I've had has been the luncheon with my high school girl friends.

Like all the other parties and get-togethers I attended, it was also fun-filled. But what made it so profoundly heartwarming for me was not the scrumptuous meal at Cappriciosa, although it was, nor the delectable dessert at Conti's, although it was. Insights told, secrets revealed, fears and dreams shared, past unveiled and future plans confided - these, and not the food, made the six-hour lunch fulfilling. We dared. We dreamed. We planned. We laughed a lot. We thought some. We fretted over "lost" and troubled friends. We were saddened by loss. We "re-discovered" each other. We rejoiced! And we squealed in delight at a pregnant news (wink wink, Yeyet)

We left Greenbelt with more than full tummies (pun intended, Yeyet) and bagful of gifts. We carried with us a renewed friendship, plans for our dreams, hopes for our futures, fun-ny stories to look back to.

God, family, friendship...the real meaning of Chirstmas. Christ is indeed in Christ-mas!

It has been a wonderful Christmas season...so far!

Shoe-ba-da, Tiddy, etc.

Swiish...thud!

That must be what a flying shoe sounds like. During our high school homecoming finale number, while we were singing and dancing to the "Sha ba da, pa pa rap pa ra pa ra...." in Leah Navarro's Ligaw Tingin song, a shoe flew...and it was caught on video! This "SHOE-ba-da" has become my favorite part of the program (well...second to my "front act" for Mercy's solo, of course)!

"Tiddy." My almost two-year old niece, Isabel, calls Mr. Bean's teddy bear "Tiddy.". My sister corrects her, "Its Teddy." Isabel insists it's "Tiddy." And so they go "Teddy, anak!" "Tiddy!" "Teddy!" "Tiddyyyyy". Of course, "Tiddy" wins.

Isabel is fast learning to say what she wants. One time, her mom asked her if she wanted to go with us on a short to drive to Edsa Shangri-la. She said after careful consideration, "Iwan". As we were about to leave, she changed her mind, ran after us and squealed, "Wait me! Wait me! Wait meee!". Need I translate?

The "Shoe-ba-da", "Tiddy" and "Wait me" moments are just a few of the recent deposits I've made in my funny deposit account. I've got tons of funny deposits made and whenever I feel down and in need of cheering, I dig in and withdraw from this account to give me a lift and boost my spirits up.

My "Simple Joys" journal has also become a major deposit account. When I find myself wanting, when life's little challenges suddenly seem big and overwhelming, when I fear "L" knocking at my door ("L"oneliness)...I turn to my Simple Joys journal and go through my deposits and I'm transported to a land of blessings and smiles and laughter.

When problems seem to take over, I take a moment of prayer and look back on the many deposits in my funny and simple joys accounts. I am once again reminded that my problems are a pittance, that God has got my back covered, that I am infinitely and abundantly blessed...more blessed than I ever deserve to be.

Have you stocked up on your funny and simple joys accounts?

Miss Saigon

"Miss Saigon", the musicale. Naah... I'm not much of a fan. I just saw this musicale like three times lang naman (once in Broadway (yabang!) and twice in Manila). Since this doomed romance (story of my life...haay!) had become one of my favorites, I was so excited to finally set foot on the soils where "Kim" fell desperately in love with "Chris". I know it was only a make believe play, but still...

The minute I got out of Saigon Airport, I was ready to rock 'n roll! I was so excited that I did not heed Romy's (the friend I was visiting) advice for me to rest before we scoured the streets of the city. Never mind that I hadn't slept a wink in 24 hours. Never mind that the night before my trip I had just come from a backbreaking dance practice for my HS alumni homecoming. Never mind that my head was floating in cloud nine from exhaustion. I was determined to be Miss Saigon!

So as soon as I dropped off my luggage, we went on our way to see the city. Saigon (it's called Ho Chi Minh now but I prefer calling it Saigon) is a busy city with motorcyles everywhere... and when i say everywhere, I mean they're on you're left, on your right, they're headed straight at you or so close behind you it's one way of saying "kissing ass". I had to close my eyes every single time our car turned at a corner - it always felt that we were about to collide with a throng of motorbikers. It was madness!

By nighttime, my body was telling me to rest a bit...I wasn't listening. I wanted to explore the stalls and the street food at the night market and experience whatever nightlife the city had to offer.

Dinner time, we set off to meet Romy's friend, Irene, who'd also come to visit Vietnam with her friends Rhea and Faith. We decided to try out the street food at the night market. We had a feast of authentic Vietnamese cuisine that was deee-lish! My favorite was shrimp dipped in coconut juice over fire (i have no idea what it's called).

When we were chillin' after stuffing ourselves full, I began to feel queasy. I was breaking out in cold sweat. I started to feel cold and lightheaded. I could feel myself about to black out. And I felt sick...sick as in barf, throw up, puke...arghh! Not a nice picture but I guess I looked sick too because they all suddenly asked what was wrong with me.

As I closed my eyes and began to black out, all kinds of thoughts flashed - I was thinking, "Ang make-up kooo! Malulusaw!" Then I blamed the food, "Ang takaw kasi sa shrimps!" Then I recalled the grueling practice the night before and thought, "I guess I'm not up for a showbiz life." But what was utmost in my mind was, "I'm not going to faint before the crowd of gwapings, was I? O dear Lord, help!"

And help did come at once. Romy and Irene were asking (in panic) the waiters for ice, for water, for a towel, for candy. Rhea was squeezing my hand in what I could only think to be some kind of reflexology move...or maybe she was just giving me a comforting squeeze. Another hand, Faith's, was on my face. Yes, that's right. Her hand was also squeezing my face... in Tagalog, "Nilalamutak ang mukha ko." Whatever they were doing was working because I felt better after a few minutes (and also after a round of barf...yuck!)

A waiter, who rushed by my side to hand over a small bottle of a smelly thingy that could wake the dead, asked if he could "maybe look for husband for me" (his words, not mine). What the waiter said sure got me to smile and reply, "Yes, please!"

God is so good, isn't He!?! If anything unpleasant was to happen like this fainting drama in my life as Miss Saigon, He always makes sure that I have angels nearby to give me rescue. Thanks to my angels in disguise - Romy, Irene, Rhea and Pet.. oops, I mean Faith (hihihi).

His loving provision knows no bounds nor time. His love and help are everywhere, every time... we just have to humble ourselves and ask and recognize the help for what or who they are.

wet!

I went with my sister to Isabel's (my niece) class at the Little Gym one Saturday. Classes had already begun when she and her mom got in to join the other toddlers and moms/dads. But true to her “Dora, the Explorer” form, Isabel didn’t immediately join the other kids in class and, instead went running around exploring the different gym equipment. I guess that's why the teachers came up with the moniker, "Isabel, the Wander Girl." Soon, the other toddlers were following suit and were exploring as well.

At one point, Isabel and Maya, another toddler, were both rushing to go play at the obstacle course. Isabel got there first but Maya bumped into her and tried to hurry her along. Isabel turned around and looked at Maya square in the face and said, “Wet!” (translation: Wait! I got here first you know. Wait for your turn when I'm done. If you had gotten here first ...- well, really, she just meant "wait" )

Wow! What a lesson coming from my 1 ½ year-old niece!

I carried this lesson as I was driving home that night amidst the rains and the slow moving drivers. I was tempted to overtake the slow cars or, at the very least, blast my horns to move them along. But my niece’s “wet” incident gave me pause and I just patiently trudged my way through traffic. This made driving more relaxing and even enjoyable.

The lesson from our 1 ½ year-old "wander girl" reminded me once again that I am where I should be. Being stuck in traffic may mean I’m being kept from something unpleasant from happening. Getting stalled in a long line at the supermarket may be God’s way of teaching me patience. And maybe, when prayers seem to go unanswered, God is telling me that His answer is for me to trust and to just..."wet".

mang arthur and aling fanny

Ricky, my bro-in-law, organized a luncheon treat in honor of Mang Arthur, their school bus (well, it was a jeepney really) driver during their elementary and high school days. An assembly of "old" students formerly chauffeured by Mang Arthur paid tribute to their beloved Mang Arts for painstakingly ferrying them from home to Marist School and back. Adventures of boyhood past with Mang Arts were also reminisced, giving the occasion a mood that's both deeply moving and light.

That same week, I found and made "friends" on FB with Aling Fanny, our"old" lady guard at Stella Maris. Aling Fanny said she remembers us girls but couldn't for the life of her recognize me from my FB profile pic. She said I looked good on my picture...which only means I look bad in person. Why, that old geezer...hmmp! (kidding!) No really, chatting up with Aling Fanny on FB and remembering with school friends our comical experiences with her was fun and funny!

But we didn't just make "chika" with her...we thanked her for years of protectively looking out and after us while under her watch. In our own miniscule way, we honored her for being a part of our lives.

The tribute to Mang Arthur and touching base with Aling Fanny got me to think - "Do I see...and I mean really see...the "little" people I encounter everyday? Do I exercise patience with my yayas at home or with the cashier at the grocery? Do I ask the guards or janitors in the office how they're doing? Do I greet back their "good mornings"? Do I thank these people? Do I even stop to look at them?"

It's easy enough to acknowledge and thank important personalities, those in position or with money, those with "power" who help us get ahead. It's sometimes even easy enough for us to think that we're better than the "Mang Arthurs" and "Aling Fannys" of this world. Are we? Really?

In spite of the concerns I face, I feel blessed…and in return, I also like to give back and be a blessing to others, particularly to those who are usually taken for granted. Being a blessing to others doesn't have to cost me anything, does it? It doesn't have to be a grand gesture like what my bro-in-law did (God bless him for his generosity), does it?

It wouldn’t cost me anything to smile at the sales clerk, would it? Would it take much effort to say “Thank you” to the security guard who graciously opens the door for me or to the waiter who hurriedly serves me food or to my yayas who take care of the house or to the driver for bringing me safely to my destination? Will it cost me much to politely say "Excuse me" or "Salamat" to the janitor cleaning the rooms and the hallways? Not much effort or cost is needed to carry out these small acts that could spell the change in someone's dreary life.

I look at my almost 2-year old niece, Isabel, and envy her innocence. She clings to and plays with and hugs her yayas with affection, waves goodbye at the security guards or says "hi miss" to the sales clerks at malls...without judgment, without prejudice, without concept of master or servant, rich or poor. I wish we could all be Isabel-like as we deal with the "Mang Arthurs" and "Aling Fannys."

As many "Mang Arthurs" and "Aling Fannys" have been a blessing to me, so will I try my best to be a blessing to them. Doing our own very small acts of kindness could not only make a difference in someone else's life...it could actually be the difference in our own lives.

dream come true

Yes it did...my dream did come true!

No...my dream was not the impossible wishful thinking kind like "I wish I had Brad Pitt for a partner" (someone who looks like him would do, though) or "I wish I had billions of Pesosesoses" (or maybe just millions of pesoses). It was actually a dream or a vision of sorts that I had last week and it was of me reading during Holy Mass.

Our high school batch got together last Saturday for a general assembly, a Thanksgiving Mass and a salu-salo. During the assembly meeting, in preparation for the Holy Mass, Atty. Kristy asked volunteers to read the readings and the prayers for the Mass. As others enthusiastically volunteered to read, I kept still, looked away and hoped to go unnoticed. Why? Well, I was "testing" the dream. I wondered "Do dreams really come true? I mean literally?"

Atty. Kristy asked me (more like shoved the misalette in my face - kidding!) to read the Prayers of the Faithful. I took the misalette without a word but I wasn't done with my "testing." As other batchmates trickled in to attend the meeting, I kept handing the assignment over...each one refused.

After all the kaartehan, I ended up reading the prayers anyway and it was as I had dreamed/envisioned it to be. As I looked up in between the reading of the prayers, I saw Camille taking a photo of me. Since this "kodakan" was not in my dream, all I could think of at that moment was, "Oh no! I didn't put on any make-up!" (as if make-up would make a difference...I wish!)

In my prayers that night as I reflected on and asked what that dream-literally-coming-true event meant, I heard Him answer, "Trust that your dreams are coming true." And if that wasn't enough to convince me, the message for me posted on FB went like this, "All is going according to plan. Trust that there is a bigger picture. Trust that life is unfolding as it should."

My dreams and plans may not be God's plans for me...but I am letting go and letting God and trusting that His plans are far bigger and better than any dream or plan I could ever imagine. They may not come into being now but I trust that they will unfold...in God's perfect time!

another babes moment

I just love hanging out with Isabel, my almost two-year old niece. One never knows what she's going to blurt out.

While at a Shell gas station on our way to Heaven's Gate for the observance of All Saints Day, my sister, Miles, went to the C.R. while Ricky went to the Select store to buy stuff. Isabel, the yayas and I were left waiting in the car. I had a serious conversation going with Isabel, part of it went like this:

Me: "Where'd daddy go?"
Isabel: (while rubbing her hands together) "Wash."

Me: "What about mommy, where's mommy?"
Isabel, after pausing for some moments and looking up as if thinking, said (with pouty lips), "Wiswiswiswiswis..." (translation: mommy went to pee).

That was the first time she said/did that. Usually, whenever she knows anyone is in the restroom, no matter what one was doing, she'd answer, "Poo-poo."

on the NPC anniversary

Remember the Hotdog’s hit song ‘Manila’? “Manila, I keep coming back to Manila. Simply no place like Manila… I walked the streets of San Francisco, I've tried the rides in Disneyland… Somehow I feel like I don't belong…”

Well, I just realized that that song personifies the story of my relationship with NPC - I just keep coming back to it. I did try out the private corporate world for a few years, but I ended up back in NPC. Some years ago, I was shipped out, literally, to the US of A by my mom in the hopes (her hopes) of finding myself a “papa.” But all I got was a couple of offers from companies vying for my services (instead of a couple of guys vying for my heart - sigh). But - you guessed it - I found myself back in NPC.

I wondered out loud to friends this “I-keep-coming-back-to-NPC” fashion I seem to have developed for myself and a friend reminded and quoted back to me a lesson I had learned and shared: “I am exactly where I am supposed to be.”

After all that’s been said and done, I have come to realize that NPC has been good to me. Never mind the office politics. Never mind the MBA (may-backer-ako) system that seem to be prevalent everywhere anyway. Never mind the oftentimes confusing structure and system. Never mind the frustrations. It was here where I met some wonderful friends and mentors. It was here where work and life lessons were learned. It was the long tedious hours of work in NPC that had become my refuge when I suffered a devastating loss. NPC has been good to me.

Last November 3, NPC marked its 74th Anniversary. The weeklong celebration was the simplest NPC employees had seen or experienced. “Banderitas”and “tiangge” booths that usually adorned the office grounds during its anniversaries signaling a festive mood were nowhere to be found. Employees bemoaned the absence of bonuses. Many found the calendar of anniversary activities lacking excitement and thrill. Amidst the grumbles and the gripes, however, I found myself enjoying and feeling blessed for being part of the festivities.

I always say, “start any activity right – start it with a prayer.” And the anniversary couldn’t have kicked off more right than with a Thanksgiving and Healing Mass that was poignant and assuaging.

The 4 K Fun Run and Aero-Dance were other activities that highlighted the celebration. I was registered and suited up to join the Fun Run. But as soon as the sports official hollered "Go!", I decided to join the Aero-Dance. It was a blast! I simply looooved it. It wasn’t as punishing as the fun run but it was just as fun. I did get tired…from laughing! My cheeks hurt from laughing as I watched my boss do her own version of the dance moves. Now that she’s decided to join the regular dance workouts during Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays, I’ve also decided to join if only to watch her do her stuff.

The Fun Olympics was another activity I wouldn’t have missed particularly the “Umbrella-Tissue” relay. Everyone rolled in laughter as players of our group executed the game with "parental guidance" moves. I wish this was caught on video…it would have created a wave on Youtube.

Another activity I truly enjoyed (surprisingly) was the anniversary party/program. It had very little, if at all, dragging or boring moments (again, surprisingly). The band seemed to have upped their level a tinee bit as they restructured their repertoire. I danced my heart out, not on the designated dance floor, but by my lonesome on a mini-dance area by the bleachers I created for myself where I danced like a total fool (nothing new). I simply didn’t care…I was having fun!

And of course, my favorite part of the program was…drum roll please….the Footloose number by Mr. "Wiling Willie" Dolatre! Need I say more?

Cash and stuff were also raffled off during the party. And though I didn’t win a single thing, I feel blessed enough as Noel, my BBF (Boy-Best-Friend, a label he himself coined and tagged) won the personal refrigerator.

Maybe its this “simple joys”attitude I’ve recently adopted that made all these seemingly simple activities fun and blessing filled; or maybe I’m just a shallow and easy-to-please person; or maybe, the anniversary activities, simple they may be, were really fun and exciting after all.

Next year would mark NPC’s Diamond Anniversary. I may not be around NPC to celebrate such a momentous event. Or maybe, as many are wondering, NPC might no longer be. No matter where the road leads, both for NPC and for myself, I am grateful for the years with NPC.

Thank you, NPC!