dolly and her doodles

My sister was nicknamed "Gabby" by an American uncle because, and I quote, she just keeps on gabbin'. I, on the other hand, can also be called "Chat"...as in chatterbox.

It's no wonder then that Isabel, my two-year old niece, is called "Dolly" because she's so madaldal e (madal-dolly)...she takes after her parents, aunt, and grandmothers.

But her creative genius she takes after her lolo Fred (my dad) and aunty-ninang (moi), thank you very much!

What can I say? She's IS a genius! Just look at her drawings...aren't they a masterpiece? (she drew them on her IPad) Ok...I MAYBE just a tinee bit biased here. (Maybe? just a BIT? You think?) Can't help it. Am so proud!




Her doodles reminded me of similar drawings I had made but nobody gave a big deal about them. Granted, I was already in 5th Grade then when I made the drawings, but still, pretty good, huh?

( clap, clap, clap, clap, clap)

Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows P2

No, this is not a movie review. Book 7 was the only book in the HP series that I didn't get to read. Book 6 was dark and depressing enough for me so I didn't bother with the last of the series. I have to admit, though, that I liked the movie - they certainly went all out and with a bang, so to speak, for this one.

But more than the special effects, I liked the movie for a whole other reason.

Sometime ago, one of my blog readers asked me this jeering question about my "Conversations with God" series of blog posts. I was asked, "Does God really talk to you? Do you really believe that?"

Of course, I had replied.

Maybe the question wasn't meant to jeer. Maybe it was asked out of curios wonder. Whatever the intent was, the question lingered. And soon, a semblance of doubt unsettled me.

In the movie, when Harry Potter was struck by his long-time nemesis, Lord Voldemort, Harry was transported into this dreamlike dimension where he encountered his mentor, Headmaster Albus Dumbledore. Harry, in his anxious and muddled frame of mind, asked the very question I have asked myself numerous times, "Is this all just happening in my head?"

And Dumbledore, in all wisdom, said, "Of course it's all in your head. But why should that mean it's not real?"

Maybe the messages I have been hearing in my meditations/prayers were just in my head. Maybe the lines in books or poems I read which I believed "talked" to me were just in my head. Maybe the conversation I overheard which I thought was meant to tell me something was just all in my head. Maybe the e-mail of a lesson I received was just that - an e-mail and the lesson was just all in my head. Maybe that meaningful conversation and experience I had was just an everyday simple conversation and was just all in my head.

Maybe they're all just in my head...but why should all these mean that they're not real?

Yes - more than the spectacular visual effects, I liked the movie for a whole other reason - it's God's answer to my questioning mind and His way of once again settling my once unsettled heart.

cupid

I finally get it. I really do. I now know why the state of my non-existent love life is exactly the way it is - non-existent.

It's because of cupid - you know the cherub with an arrow? Well, I found myself staring at this picture of cupid. It just struck me that this cherub must be THE one assigned to me. And It hit me (pun intended, of course) that all this time, he has been shooting his arrows at me. As I stared for some more moments, I asked him this: "Please shoot the guy, too! It takes two for this work, you know!" But I guess, he ain't called stupid cupid for nothin'.

Stupid cupid, stop pickin' on me!

the case of a mistaken identity

It was a mighty fine night, with fine food and an even finer company. I was having dinner with a friend in one of those little dainty restos in Ortigas. The evening was turning into an enjoyable one when we were distracted by a man in plain white, short-sleeved barong, presumably the security guy of the resto, looking in from the outside. He seemed to be searching for someone in particular. A small crowd of two or three had gathered around him, peering excitedly inside the resto, seemingly staring right at me.

The man in white barong went into the resto and went directly for our table. He came to a stop right beside me, hunched low and whispered, “The people outside are asking if they could have your autograph.”

I stared at him with a questioning look. “What?” I asked, bewildered, wondering if this was a practical joke of some kind.

He gave an awkward smile and explained, “They say you’re Angelique Lazo and would like an autograph, if you please.”

I gave him an equally awkward smile and looked out the window to give the folks an apologetic smile. I told the man in barong, “Hahaha (awkward laugh)…I’m sorry but I’m not Angelique Lazo.” What I really I wanted to say though was, “Huwaaat? Get your eyes checked, people! She’s a lot older than I aaaaaammm!!!” – I think.

For you folks pretending to be young and saying you don’t know her, she was a popular news anchor in the 90’s. (Yes, your mother and I were born in the 1900’s – this is in answer to a question of a friend’s daughter who was shocked to learn that her mother and friends were already alive when the years were in the 19’s).

I've also been compared to Cherry Pie Picache - it must be because of our voluptuous (which is a nicer equivalent for the more appropriate term - mataba) figure. I don't really see us alike but I bet I'd also react the way she did in one of her movies. It went something like this:

Dina: "Bakit...hindi naman ako nagpapagamit!" (or something along that line)

Cherry Pie: "Malandi!"

Dina: "Sugar mommy!"

Cherry Pie: "Social climber!"

Dina: "Mataba!"

Cherry Pie (after a short shocked pause): "Walang ganyanan! Walang personalan! Masyado ka nang nakakasakit nyan e !"

There was also this one time when I was walking along the halls of the office building with a boy friend (drop the shocked look - I meant a friend who happened to be male). He kept giving me side glances so I asked, "Why, what's wrong?"

He answered in an almost fascinated tone, "You seem different these days... para ka nang dalaga."

I gave him a sweet smile with matching "beautiful eyes" as I said my thanks....until realization of what he said dawned on me. I came to a halt, turned to him with a scowl, looked him in the eye and said, "What 'dalaga?' I AM 'DALAGA'!!!"

Well, I guess that's better than being mistaken for a "bading"...right? (Although I have been tagged as "ang babaeng bading" quite a number of times).

Have you been mistaken for somebody else?

my kinda guy

I’m in like again!

Just the other day I attended this thanksgiving celebration for a graduation of sorts. It was the first time I had seen the celebrant and he is, without a doubt, soooo good looking.

I've been asked a zillion times before about the type of guy I'm drawn to. I usually give a shrug of indifference and just as nonchalantly tell them I don't fall for any type of guy so long he's...well, "functional". I've gone out with and enjoyed the company of all sorts of guys - the sporty type, the silent/shy type, the sweet, romantic guy, the funny loud guy, the intellectual/witty kind, the confident-bordering-on-the-arrogant-guy. Heck, I've even gone out with a metrosexual and an x-man. I simply don't go for a specific type...at least I DIDN'T.

They say that as one gets olde... I mean wiser, one can't be picky. Well, I beg your pardon, I've just picked my type - and HE is IT. Clean cut, well-dressed, well-mannered with a quiet confidence, smart, a to-die-for voice , down-to-earth, and highly spiritual. It doesn't hurt that he's oh so good looking. And straight (at least I hope he is)!


But (yes, again, there's this ever present BUT in my non-existent love life), but, there is this tinee winee problem...his name is Father Te. Yup, he's a priest and the celebration I attended was a Mass he officiated in thanksgiving for his recent ordination (sigh!).

I think the universe conspired that our paths should not cross until such time he was unattainable. I mean, his last name is Te - can you just imagine if i ended up with someone whose last name was Te? I'd be mary ann samonte-te (go on, say it out loud). And it gets even more entertaining if you say it with a Visayan accent (no offense to the Bisayas)! The universe truly is smarter than a fifth grader!


So I guess this is the end of our story before it even began (sigh again).

funny deposits

I have this "simple joys" journal where I write all the things, simple they may be, that am grateful for on a daily basis.

I also have this "funny" account where deposits made are in the form of amusing or downright funny moments in my life. I'd like to share a few of those moments...

My sister and I went grocery shopping recently and she was buying all these different foodstuff and assortment of goodies. I asked her what they were for and she said: "I'm trying to fill up the new cupboards."

Cupboard is, of course, pronounced as 'kuberd' - with a silent "p". But she mispronounced it and I took pleasure in correcting her for once (she's usually the one correcting me to her amusement)

I said, "Its kuberd, not cup-board".

Miles, being stubborn about it, insisted, "It's cup-board"

So we went, "Kuberd" "Cup-board" "Kuberd" "Cup-board"

So finally Miles challenged, "It's cup-board...spell it"

I challenged back, "Ok, spell psychology"

Miles said after a thoughtful while, "Sige na nga - kuberd"


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One time, I was singing to my two-year old niece, Isabel, the Alphabet Song. I sang, "A, you're adorable, B, you're so ...
K, you're so kissable,
L, is the love light in your eyes.
M, you're so...
M, we're...eeemmM....eeemmmM, is....M
Do - a deer a female deer, Re - a drop of golden suuuuun, Mi ...."

Gosh! I have to review my ABC's!!!

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Ricky, my bro-in-law, tells the story of how Isabel sings the Alphabet Song.

Isabel sings, "A, you're adorable. B, you're so beautiful...B, you're not beautiful..."

Well, at least she knows her grammar!