Pinkish-White (with dark spots) Christmas II

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Pinkish-White (with dark spots) Christmas I

Auf Wiedersehen, Tante Elena.

In the picture above is Mike and me with tita Elena. The first and last time tita Elena met my husband. Tita Elena is my favorite aunt, no doubt. What's my criteria? Well, prettiness is a factor, amount of papasko (when I was a kid), the aura she evokes and lessons learned from her.

About 2 weeks ago, tita Elena was hospitalized, she fell off tripped beside the stairs. She had to undergo operation, about a week ago, relatives said that she's critical 50/50, then the next day, she seemed to have recovered. But news that she died yesterday around 2 pm came. Apparently, she wasn't able to fully recuperate from the operation. She was just resting in the hospital until she gets better and may be released. We planned to visit her in the hospital 2 weekends ago, but since they're only bringing a car, only kuya Red, addy, mama, tito Junior, tito Ben and mommy (tita) Viring II were able to go. We said we'll visit last weekend, but no one would drive - Mike doesn't know the place and my kuya's were too busy. Around late afternoon yesterday, my dad and the rest of his siblings went to tita Elena and my cousin kuya Rodney drove. I became sad. Really.

Tita Elena is my dad's eldest sister. She is roughly 85 86 already. My lola, Crisencia, first married a German (name undisclosed), and this was the height of Germany's Nazi Reich. Lola Crising had two daughters with the German, Elena and Virginia. But according to my mom's stories of lola Crising's life, the German was cruel and she decided to leave him and split the kids - tita Elena was left with lola and tita Viring I went with the German. She then married a Filipino man, she had 5 children with Gregorio. Lolo Yoyong and lola Crising had Gregorio Jr., Benjamin, twins Alberto (my dad) and Antonio and Virginia. Lola Crising named her youngest daughter Virginia again because she lost her first Virginia.

I was 4 when lola Crising died, and tita Elena was the closest thing to a lola that I had, from my father's side. Tita Elena is funny but soft-spoken, she is very beautiful - up there along the ranks of Gloria Romero; she's very classy and really nice, even to me, who was a hard-headed child. She kisses me and sniffs me when she sees me. I love going to their place in Tanay when I have the chance (not much during college) because her cooking is the best. Her sopas is my favorite - when my mom cooks sopas, I ignore; but hers, I devour - maybe because tita Elena's sopas became my standard to what sopas is good. Last time I saw her was during the fiesta. We went to Tanay to visit her. She told me that when she's watching TV and sees the artista on TV (we don't know who), she thinks of me and boasts to people "na yung pamangkin ko (pertaining to me), ganyan ang itsura", which made us laugh. Then she served a very big lunch for us around 6 dishes and 3 types of dessert; sopas was not missing, she knows how much I love it. I brought the laptop and showed her pictures of our civil wedding - she wasn't there, since we decided to make it a very nuclear affair; I promised her that she'll be invited at my church wedding next year, she was ecstatic about it.

Tita Elena, we love you and we'll miss you. At least you don't feel the pain anymore.

Dodgeball!

In Splash Island with colleagues. The first Asian Dodgeball Summit friendship games. This was wayyy back August 29, 2010. But it was just featured in SU last Saturday.


Note: Please ignore the fact that I am dancing. I was ecstatic then. Ignore my laughs and commentaries while filming as well. I was sleepy.

Memoriam: NU 107

People can call  me a poser coz I go public donning a pink dress and pink lips but when they crush my bones and my bone marrow will spill black oil because despite all of the kikay tendencies, if you'll dissect the innermost of my gut, you'll probably see a black metal studded cuff if you rummage deep enough my insides.

Fifth grade was when I started to actively watch MTV and listen to the radio. Prior to this, I listened to what my brothers listened to, that is Pearl Jam, Metallica, Nirvana, Bon Jovi, Tears for Fears,The Dawn, Yano and Eraserheads. Though pop was big back in '97 (spell boybands, girlbands and the dawn of Britneys), I found myself attracted to watching MTV Alternative Nation and indie-Lilith Fair-esque women on MTV's playlist and listening to NU 107. My first few faves within the genre were Oasis, Matchbox20, Suede, No Doubt, Sarah Mclachahn, Bjork, Shawn Colvin, Meredith Brooks, Blur, Prodigy and Silverchair.

13 years since '97, NU 107 aired it's finale. This made me sad. A lot. I UStreamed the final minutes and I feel like breaking down in tears. The final song they played at 11:59 pm, November 7, 2010 was Huling El Bimbo by the Eraserheads. Fitting. Huling Sayaw, magkahawak ang kamay.

NU has been my source of non-mainstream and most of all substantial music. NU has been home of Gang Badoy and RockEd radio - which I totally appreciate as a sensible  forum that discussed social, economic and political issues and educated the youth minus the boredom and mediocrity brought upon by primetime news, it activated learning and encouraged opinion. I learned in NU 107 what I never learned in UP and at home. The rest is trivial.

When people, or in this case broadcast media of this caliber is lost, it makes me ponder on the future of humanity. REALLY. What will happen to our kids? Will they be forever trapped in an abyss of Disney Channel and pop music, stupidity and apathy? That would be hell, at least in my perspective. That's totally been my pet peeve, apathy and the lack of balls. I vowed to breed a spawn of indie-counterculture-non-mainstream kids who'll go against the flow. Not a bunch of clones who'll take crap just because it's the only thing presented to them.

Rock music (and its sub-genres) isn't just rock music. It's a lifestyle-one that makes sense. And I'm glad I chose it over all the other genres available in the market. Listening to NU and rock music per se drew the rebel in me, and aren't I glad. Thank you, NU. You will be forever, forever missed.

Note: #NU and #NU107 in Twitter. It feels like someone died.

Gluttonous, Gratuitous.

In my effort to gain 2 lbs. I ate a Quarter Pounder with Cheese. Added Fries and ketchup. Yum. Ate it at 10:30 pm with Apple Pie and large Coke Zero, and the rest of the large Fries. ♥ ♥ Will sleep after. :)

BC

Sorry if I wasn't able to post lately, I was busy watching too many movies, sleeping and reading a book. I'll get back to you. I'll just gather my thoughts. Think of it as the calm before the storm.

Everybody's Free to Wear Sunscreen

I heard this on the radio today, while on my way home. Decided on Googling it. Worth sharing.

Ladies and gentlemen of the class of '97: Wear sunscreen.

If I could offer you only one tip for the future, sunscreen would be it. The long-term benefits of sunscreen have been proved by scientists whereas the rest of my advice has no basis more reliable than my own meandering experience. I will dispense this advice now.

Enjoy the power and beauty of your youth. Oh, never mind. You will not understand the power and beauty of your youth until they've faded. But trust me, in 20 years, you'll look back at photos of yourself and recall in a way you can't grasp now how much possibility lay before you and how fabulous you really looked. You are not as fat as you imagine.

Don't worry about the future. Or worry, but know that worrying is as effective as trying to solve an algebra equation by chewing bubble gum. The real troubles in your life are apt to be things that never crossed your worried mind, the kind that blind side you at 4 PM on some idle Tuesday.

Do one thing every day that scares you.

Sing.

Don't be reckless with other people's hearts. Don't put up with people who are reckless with yours.

Floss.

Don't waste your time on jealousy. Sometimes you're ahead, sometimes you're behind. The race is long and, in the end, it's only with yourself.

Remember compliments you receive. Forget the insults. If you succeed in doing this, tell me how.

Keep your old love letters. Throw away your old bank statements.

Stretch.

Don't feel guilty if you don't know what you want to do with your life. The most interesting people I know didn't know at 22 what they wanted to do with their lives. Some of the most interesting 40-year-olds I know still don't.

Get plenty of calcium.

Be kind to your knees. You'll miss them when they're gone.

Maybe you'll marry, maybe you won't. Maybe you'll have children, maybe you won't. Maybe you'll divorce at 40, maybe you'll dance the funky chicken on your 75th wedding anniversary. Whatever you do, don't congratulate yourself too much, or berate yourself either. Your choices are half chance. So are everybody else's.

Enjoy your body. Use it every way you can. Don't be afraid of it or of what other people think of it. It's the greatest instrument you'll ever own.

Dance, even if you have nowhere to do it but your living room.

Read the directions, even if you don't follow them.

Do not read beauty magazines. They will only make you feel ugly.

Get to know your parents. You never know when they'll be gone for good.

Be nice to your siblings. They're your best link to your past and the people most likely to stick with you in the future.

Understand that friends come and go, but with a precious few you should hold on. Work hard to bridge the gaps in geography and lifestyle, because the older you get, the more you need the people who knew you when you were young.

Live in New York City once, but leave before it makes you hard.

Live in Northern California once, but leave before it makes you soft.

Travel.

Accept certain inalienable truths: Prices will rise. Politicians will philander. You, too, will get old. And when you do, you'll fantasize that when you were young, prices were reasonable, politicians were noble, and children respected their elders.

Respect your elders.

Don't expect anyone else to support you. Maybe you have a trust fund. Maybe you'll have a wealthy spouse. But you never know when either one might run out.

Don't mess too much with your hair or by the time you're 40 it will look 85.

Be careful whose advice you buy, but be patient with those who supply it. Advice is a form of nostalgia. Dispensing it is a way of fishing the past from the disposal, wiping it off, painting over the ugly parts and recycling it for more than it's worth.

But trust me on the sunscreen.

Privacy Settings

I'm making things as private as possible (click to enlarge)

Mike and Mon

I have a neighbor who is Mike's highschool batchmate. Mike's stories of Mon included playing together on the Playstation in Mike's house, girl-chasing, gala and going college-hunting together. On the other end, I grew up having him as a kuya-playmate (I am a year older than his younger sister, though I was a nasty child - I remember closing shut our gate while her hand was still in the gate and she cried like crazy), the guy I call when my desktop computer crashes back in college (he is a computer technician) and the guy who my mom wishes to be my boyfriend when I was in my early teens.

Mike and Mon were both born '83, Mike older by a few months. While his girlfriend and I were both born '87, me older by a few months. Mon and his girlfriend have been together for 8 years already. So when news came that he died last Monday - Election Day and his girlfriend's birthday, I was pretty shaken. Especially since his last Facebook activity was traced 2 hours before he was seen dead, I happened to be online the same time, sporadically seeing his posts and updates - especially the bit on greeting his girlfriend midnight.

Based on the stories circulating about his death, he was depressed. Mainly about his work, that he wasn't able to pass certain exams to be granted entry abroad and news of fights with his girlfriend. We came to his wake earlier - it was his 27th birthday supposedly. And though Mike and him weren't as close lately for we are all busy with our lives, and that I never always greeted him when I see him on the streets, it was sad knowing that someone so young died. He had the world ahead of him, people were rooting for him.

So rest in peace Mon. You turned 27 within your wake, you qualify to be part of the Forever 27 Club. In the words of Kurt Cobain, "It's better to burn out than fade away".You'll be remembered.