IngliseraKuno

So I am in this trip with my sister and my kids with a swollen left ankle. How I got the swollen ankle, is a story a lot like my life. And typical of, well, me. We were in this really nice hotel far north for a meeting with our big bosses. While waiting for them, Maan, my friend and colleague, asked that we go out for a while and buy some stuff from the museum/boutique nearby. So, I went to the washroom first to pee. On my way out of the little girls' room, I did not notice a slight step down from where I was standing, and slipped. Fell down both on my knees, much like a frog, as described by my loving sister, Beks. Beks, by the way, who was there, just sat looking at me and did not move an inch to help me because, she says now, she did not know it was me who slipped. I do not know if that is true, though. I think she was too embarassed to acknowledge it was indeed me. Two real gentlemen (one of them my bestie who happens to be gay), rushed to me and literally picked me up, lik...

Someone recently accused me of claiming 'monopoly of pain, suffering and sacrifice', and that I act like the world owes me. That hit me like a train. I never thought I was that kind of person, now I pause and re-examine myself. While I always talk about the hardships I went through in life, I do, not with the intention of glorifying myself. I do with the pride that I survived. Because I am a survivor, was then, still am now, everyday. I could not comprehend that criticism being thrown at me. People around me helped me up from the depths of emotional abuse I was drowning in, and I ackowledge that. Perhaps the only difference between then and now is my perspective. I share my experiences because I am able to see from another's perspective. With the lessons I have learned, I can show empathy sincerely aiming to ease another's pain and suffering, and perhaps give another person something to think about when down and out. I look at other people like myself, walking the sa...

I first met James during my daughter's debut three years ago. We were all in a room in the hotel where the venue of the debut was, and there was an urgent knock on our door. I opened it and appeared a tall, terribly handsome mestizo guy, in a printed muscle shirt and torn jeans. He introduced himself as James, and told me he is a relative, aside of course from the fact that she is my daughter's friend in school. I have always wanted a mestizo relative so I embraced him right away. He asked if was properly dressed for the debut. I said, it does not matter, his looks will make up for the clothes he was wearing. He and his friends surprised Ana that night with a medley of the popular dance songs at that time, but I loved the part where Beyonce was singing, 'Love On Top'. James was of course in the middle of the entire dance number. A few months later, Ana and her friends spent a vacation in Ilocos Norte, (I was still assigned there are at that time) They lived in my ap...

More than a year ago, our office reached out to a small school tucked away in a barangay long-forgotten in a northern province. The area was infested by insurgency, so it was difficult to implement projects for community development, we were informed. Our organization had its tradition of doing something small and meaningful each year, especially for children. It was our way of 'giving back', as we all are blessed more, in one way or the other. Rough, steep, winding dirt roads led to a school of about a hundred children in elementary. We had with us food and drinks, school supplies and slippers. We also had in tow a popular mascot of a large fastfood chain in the country, which we know the children there only saw on television. The head teacher welcomed us with a heart-wrenching speech on how she appreciated that we went to their school (there were also about a hundred of us), as nobody really wanted to risk their safety to bring much-needed help and assistance to them. Towar...

And so we celebrated Women's Month with a 'calesa' parade all garbed in pink tshirts where the theme this year is printed 'Juana, ang Tatag Mo ay Tatag Natin sa Pagbangon at Pagsulong' (I translate it as, 'Filipino Women, Your Strength is Our Strength in Rising up to the Challenges of Development?). We had the horses decorated with pink balloons, too. The parade went around Plaza Maestro in Vigan, traversed the city, passed by the public market, the heritage village of Calle Crisologo. Along the way, I thought of how beautiful the place must have been before 'modernization' intruded and came the concrete buildings. I was informed that the tourism authority in the province is very strict in regulating the construction of high-rise buildings, and that if the franchises of the famous fastfood chains would like a spot in the heritage village, they would adhere to the 'old and rustic' facade of the city. We then proceeded to a colleague's plac...

I have received so many gifts in my life. Some expected, like wine, perfume, lotion, cologne, handerkechiefs, bracelets, earrings, bags, wallets, shades, clothes, food, you name it, I got it as a gift. Hell I even got ten packs of cigarettes twice. Just recently, though, I got a pack of cotton buds. It was not a gift for any occassion, like most of my gifts. I just gifts every now and then from family, friends, staff, well, because they feel like it. Just like I give small things at random to people I feel like giving something to. Like little hugs and kisses. It is a way of saying, 'i care' or 'i thought about you', or 'i appreciate you'. Anyway, back to the cotton buds. So I got this, bought by someone who felt I needed to clean my ears, I suppose. Or because she wanted to say, 'i care, i thought of you, i appreciate you'. Thing is, I still had a pack in my supply bag, so I put it in hers. Thinking that she could use it, too, if she already ran out....

Ana was driving and we were on our way to our usual weekend food binge, coffee and 'adult conversations'. On the cd player was Katy Perry, her latest album, because Ana is a fan. Track number 13, as I glanced at it, was this song with Katy singing, '...I thank my sister for keeping my head above the water, I could not tell her I was swallowing sand...'. Our youngest sister, Kring, was with us at that time, well, almost all the time because she has this intention to steal my daughter away from me and call Ana her own (but that's another story altogether). Kring said, 'that's my song for you and Beks'(our other sister). Aaawww. She has just been through a rough time and was recovering from it. It was her way of saying thank you. And it got me thinking, deeply. I think only that way, I overanalyze things to my own detriment. I have always been perceived by my family as the pillar, the strong one, the one with the wisdom to get through anything after havi...

He has been 'there' , 'ever since the world began'. He has been my sister's bestie, always hanging around the house (wherever we were renting a place, that is), calling me Ate 'Tianne, speaking english to impress me. I think the fondness we have for him is because he looks a lot like Papa, and by that, he looks like he's a long-lost brother. Of course, he has a unique personality, my sister has always said that. One moment, he and my sister would be on the phone and I would hear my sister laughing so loud that the roof was shaking, yet there were times, too, that she would be yelling at him over the phone, and they would fight until my sister's throat went dry. They shared the good moments and the bad, were there for each other in both tragic and joyful moments. Every milestone in their lives, they are there for each other. He was also there in mine, as my sister's life is anchored to my life. He saw me start a family, struggle with keeping it to...

I have been an Oprah fan for years, until the show closed. Not really watched each and every show, only those which caught my attention while changing channels with my remote. Well because the over-reacting person I am, I liked the episodes which would move me to tears, you know, the Oprah-style of featuring touching stories of people's lives. Then the show closed. Which made me look for other talk shows while cruising along channels, found none which interested me, until one day I chanced upon Ellen Degeneres dancing with such soulful grace that I smiled. Alone. So I started watching her every now and then, liked her, for being so candid, simple but real funny jokes spontaneously delivered. I think that I laugh at her jokes because she laughs at them herself. And she has this adorable way of making fun, not only of other people but herself as well. I cannot do that. I do have these moments when I can be funny, but it's either the people I am with are my family and they laug...

Mel Gibson told Robert Downey, Jr. , at a time when RDJ was at his lowest in his career because of alcohol and drug abuse, 'hug the cactus'. This was related by Downey in one of the awards night he was presented with one, of course, by Mel Gibson. I loved the story told by Downey in a video I saw a few days back, because aside from the fact that Downey is the man of my dreams, the phrase 'hug the cactus' caught my attention. Now this self-flaggelating blogger is writing about it, well, because the thought of inflicting pain to oneself to learn lessons in life, is appealing. Now that might send off the wrong signals here and I am at risk to being thought of as having this genetic fumble somewhere in my brains, but nonetheless I cannot help but share my thoughts about it. What Gibson meant, according to Downey, was that people need to acknowledge a mistake, embrace its truth, take responsibility for the mistake, and then do something to right whatever was made wrong. ...

Reconnecting with friends is one of the pocket pleasures one can have. Just a relaxed chat over noodles and spring rolls, would provide you with new perspectives. And of course, incidentally opening wounds that I would have forgotten were there, but reliving the contentment and peace that you had when you were with them months back. Still and all, encounters like these are important to me, not only because it feels like a breath of fresh air, and fills my lungs starved of the life there was with them, imperfect but comforting. Like a big bear hug. Life's transitions are funny, at times. For moments, all in five years, you would think that you have grown accustomed to the engagements you have with your friends, through good times and bad. Then like a lightning, you are forcibly ceased to cut clean from relationships because of necessity. Because you need a job, to provide for family, you leave your friends. You get to have a new set of people to deal with, all shapes and sizes. ...

A day after the much-talked-about Oscars, Facebook users had the time of their lives posting and viewing photos of Leonardo DiCaprio and his second-by-second facial reaction to his loss, again, to another actor. Days before that, most users of the social media poked fun at him, both direct and insinuated, about his desire to win the coveted golden trophy. I am not a DiCaprio fan, I find him to be very dedicated artist to his craft, by watching only a few of his movies. But he looked too beautiful, with a finely-chiseled face, well...for a man. Anyway, that is not the point here, I write this as I think about how Leonardo must have felt, or is feeling with all these? I guess with his years in the business, he has learned to cope and handle it with ease. I am 47 years old, have been to 'hell and back', yet I cannot deal with the the stuff, and now I see all these as bullying. Really, there are many forms of it. Before the advent of the numerous forms of  social media, the cla...

I was chatting with a godson I have not really seen in a while, but Facebook again gave us the chance to get to know each other, sort of. He is leaving for the USA in a couple of days and he was feeling sad, even if he wanted to go and join his mom there. I told him, yes, it is sad. I did not deflect the sadness by saying the usual stuff to make him feel good about leaving. I just told him to go with positivity, because first, he has been wanting to go there for some time, and second, because he would work to earn his keep. I told him to save up, and come home to his girl, who he says, he likes very, very much (I did not presume love, that would be all-knowing of me). And to look forward to coming home again, to us. Of course, he was still sad when we ended our chat. Sadness. I have been through the extreme of that, now knowing it. I remember when Papa was in the hospital waiting for God to finally hold his hand to home, I felt numb. I would sit inside the van from the hospital to run ...

Always, when you were a toddler, each time I would lift you up from bed and carry you, our faces were an inch apart, with your chinky eyes, you would  look into mine. As if saying, 'so, you are my mom, I guess...'. You went through a tough childhood, what with Dad and Mom struggling to keep ends meet. There were days you did not have milk, and Mama Bella would give you water with sugar instead. When asked what you favorite food was, you would always say 'doodles!', which is actually 'noodles', and should be your favorite because that was what we could afford. You would stand by the stove, plate in hand, waiting for Dad to put fried rice on your bowl, rice from yesterday's meal. You always slept in the afternoons, with your baby bottle hanging from teeth biting into the nipple, your worn-out, smelly pillow in your hand, you would run to the bed at the prompting of Mama Bella and sleep on your own. When I arrive from work, you would always say 'hiiiiii...