Had lunch today with Jaime Barcelon, my cousin whom I hadn't talked with for the longest time! We first met three years ago during our family reunion in Eden (grabe, it was so much fun trekking, spinning golf carts, drinking and simply talking). By some unfortunate turn of events, Lolo Atos--their Papa Ito--died last month and so we met again during his funeral. It's funny how funerals usually turn out to be family reunions as well.

Anyway, I'm just glad that despite the long period between the time we last had a decent conversation and now, we still managed to talk with the kind of ease one has when chatting with an old friend. Perhaps there's something about being blood-related that makes you relate with someone albeit time and distance. We made small talk and chitchat over lovely chicken pesto sandwich and fries (yum!) and spilled secrets over chocochip ala mode (delightful!) at TOSH. It's just too bad he'll be going back to the States again for his first year in college which means I won't be seeing him anytime soon. At least we met up a couple of times. Wow, Theater in Juilliard University! It must be really exciting...

I've a Chinese exam tomorrow so I'll be spending the night reading characters...Wo mingtian you Hanyu ke...dong, bu dong? On the side, my classmate's selling really nice bags (P600-1000). I wonder if I should get a pink jelly bag or a more conventional one--cream canvas with pink trimming? Hmmm...

Currently reading: Chinese Mandarin & Culture

I'm burnt out. Tons to read. More chinese characters to write. Yet I have the persistent urge to buy the avocado-green shoes I've been eyeing in Glorietta.

Shopping--just one of the few ways I manage to revitalize myself after a season of schoolwork. Just recently I got myself 5 out of 7 books from the Chronicles of Narnia (the colored ones!). The first two were out of stock. I'd always wanted to buy them but never did--until I finally found an excuse when Gus required them for PH103. Haha! So I bought them guilt-free.

Oh, and I got them at 10% off a day after the sale.

Here's a tip: If you should happen to find yourself in a shop the day after a sale and the sale tags are still on the items, get what you want and when you're about to pay for it, ask how much discount you're gonna get. When the lady says, "Ay, sorry, wala nang discount eh.", look really disapponted (as though you were about to cry) and say how you took so much time scanning the racks/shelves just to find the perfect piece (checking for defects and all). Comment on how unfair it is, how you feel so deceived and that you wasted your time, effort and anticipation thinking the item you wanted was on sale. Then, ask if you can talk to the manager. Remember, be civil. Calmly explain your side. The manager will willingly give you that discount. Thank the manager. Smile sincerely.
Well, that's what happened to me.

Now, I'm off to dreamland.

Currently feeling: sleepy

I don't get it why people always think 13 is an unlucky number and that something bad or weird is bound to happen to them on Friday the 13th. Well, I lived 16 years of my life in a house with number 13 engraved on the gate. I didn't turn out so bad, did I? On the side, I've forever been looking for a shirt with a number 13 on it. Never did find one.

Found this test on Byke's pages:



The final book of Narnia, you're a sometimes disturbing story about the end of the world and the beginning of a new one. Your characters include an evil monkey, a misguided donkey, stubborn dwarves and all the human characters from the previous books. You manage to be heartbreaking and beautiful at once.


Find out which Chronicles of Narnia book you are.

I have yet to see if this book will actually turn out to be my favorite. I just love going to Narnia every now and then when I have time enough to take a break from the real world.

Just woke up from a two-hour afternoon nap on Chichi's bed. Good thing I didn't die from my bangungot. (Does this have an equivalent English term?)

Studying Philosophy!!!

Currently reading: Rudolf Otto's The Idea of the Holy
Currently feeling: chipper

I woke up at 10 and by 11, Earl had arrived to pick me up. I got in the car and he asked me where I wanted to eat. I saw a bottle of orange juice beside my seat. It took me a moment to realize that where meant absolutely anywhere I wanted even if it wasn't a restaurant. He had prepared me a picnic!

I was really surprised. I had expected we would eat at a more fancy place than usual for our monthsary lunch but little did I know it was even better than that.

We first contemplated on where we would have our picnic and finally decided to go the LST (Loyola School of Theology) area. There, we parked under the shade of a tree and began the wonderful feast he had lovingly prepared just for me. He took out a picnic basket (which was brand new since he bought it just for the occasion) and layed out its contents of lasagna (baked courtesy of Red Ribbon), california maki (lovingly rolled by his own hands), and chocolate mousse (my favorite!) for dessert. I still couldn't believe my eyes. That he, my sweetie pie, had actually prepared me a lovely feast. I was at a loss for words. As we devoured the whole course, romantic music played in the background.

It was one of the most beautiful lunches I ever had, though I never told him outright. It was just one of those moments wherein one kept silent amidst the depth of emotion one was feeling for fear of reducing the experience to a bunch of words. Up till now, the only word I can use to describe the beautiful lunch my Earl had prepared for me is indescribable. *sigh*

After the lunch, I thanked him, knowing that whatever I said could never encompass the sense of overwhelming joy that I felt.

Despite all the school stuff I had to finish, I spent the whole afternoon singing.

Currently listening to: Save the Last Dance by Mindi Abair
Currently feeling: happy to be alive

I suddenly felt the urge to write a poem. I would oftentimes feel the urge but never acted on it. Now, I did. After two years, I write a poem again. I'm a bit rusty. So never mind if it's not poetic enough, if it's corny, cheesy or anything like that . It's from my heart for the person who dwells in my heart. Here goes:

You are my lifeboat
on the ocean of uncertainty.
I was immersed, drowning.
You brought me to shore.
I was cold.
You warmed me in your embrace.
I was anxious.
You calmed me with your soothing voice
singing the tune of "I love you."
Now I live and love because of you.

Currently feeling: loving

My Koolie Woodgie Honey Bunny

I don't care if others will think me silly for posting this.

I am completely devastated. I learned only tonight that my favorite cream-colored cocker spaniel with a speckled snout Koolie (formally Koolie of Davidux in his brith certificate) died last Friday night. The moment mom told me over the phone, I couldn't help big globs of tears welling up in my eyes.

What really struck me was the condition of his death. He was so sick that they finally decided to have him adopted by the vet just last Thursday. Mom took him to the vet then and when she was about to leave, he howled as though to say please don't leave me. The day before, I had called my mom up and asked her to bring the phone close to Koolie's long floppy ear so I could talk to him. And I did as I always used to in my high school days in a very high pitched tone "Hi Koolie Woolie, Hunny Bunny, Koolie Woodgie...how are you? I miss you..." When I asked mom what his reaction was, she said that his ears perked up. After that, I was relieved for I had gotten the chance to talk to him although I knew that he was nearing the end of his dogly life. That Friday, he was left alone in the clinic and the same night he died.

In high school, he had been my constant companion. I looked forward to my class dismissal for I knew that I would be greeted by the smile and the wagging tail of a fat, floppy-eared dog as soon as I entered the gate of our house in Buhangin. As soon as I arrived, I would call him to sit with me in the back porch and there I would brush his coat and put some baby powder on him to make sure he smelled nice. Then, I would have my standard merienda in front of the TV and he would sit next to me, nudging my leg from time to time with his nose in the hope that I would spare him a piece of the sandwich I was eating. Afterwards, I'd go to the study room or the bedroom and while doing my homework, I'd rub my feet against his soft fur. He didn't mind at all. During weekends, I'd give him a bath and use up lola's conditioner just to make sure his hair was smooth and silky. I'd also brush his teeth whenever he had fish-breath.

I remember one time when I was with my cousins in the living room, I told Koolie to "stay". Lola then rang the bell which signified it was mealtime so we all rushed to the dining room. We were alll eating when we suddenly heard him howling. Apparently, he had stayed true to my command for when I went back to see what the racket was about, he was in the same position that I left him when I told him to stay. He was howling because he wanted to be with us but couldn't move because he could not--would not--disobey. I also recall the time when I'd find him growling at the cat whenever I carried it in my arms yet I knew that that was only pretense for I also caught them (Koolie and the white cat Siomai) sleeping next to each other.

When I graduated from high school, going to a college far from home had become one of my woes. I knew that I was the one who had always taken care of him and my departure would mean his neglect. True enough, when I returned home to Davao on my first christmas break from college, he was an absolute stinkbomb. Uncombed, unwashed with lots of parasites sucking his blood. I had become so busy and preoccupied with family and friends during the breaks (since the breaks were so short!) that I hardly took any notice of him although I had told myself that I would find the time to give him a bath and brush his coat. Before I knew it, vacation had ended. This had been the case for all of my vacations.
Last April when I was in Davao, I totally neglected him, and (I'm ashamed to say this) even renounced him his position as "my favorite animal in the house". This title I had given to the other younger and cleaner dog Black Jack. I gave Black Jack a bath that time but Koolie only warranted from me a few seconds of a pat on the head. I had foresaken him because he was old and dirty. I didn't want to get my hands dirty at all.

Now, I regret not ever having taken the time to show Koolie just how much he really means to me. He is gone. The only consolation I have is the knowledge that all dogs go to heaven.

Currently listening to: song of silent sobs
Currently feeling: mournful