grip of grace

Last night, while staring blankly on the images moving about on TV, I suddenly had a realization—all my life, I had been taking care of people. Being the eldest among four siblings, I had been expected to look after my younger brothers and sister since the start. I remember taking the three of them to school when I was in my senior year in high school. And staying home during weekends to wash our clothes, cook our meals, clean the house, etc. After my mom died when I was in second year, I took it upon myself to take care of the family, even my dad. In college, it was the same. Although I lived away from my family, I was still the Ate (big sister) of everybody. My block mates relied on me for support—whether academically, morally, or sometimes financially. For them, I have always been the tough one, the shoulder to cry on even for one coño guy who couldn’t seem to survive the state university because he didn’t speak Tagalog. I had always been the leader, the captain of the team

When I was in fourth grade, I knew what I wanted to be. A journalist. During summer vacation, I remember tearing away pages in my notebook that have been written on and keeping the blank ones. Then I would write stories on the blank pages. I don’t remember what stories I have written, but I do remember showing them to my dad. That was when he said, “ Anak , I think you’re going to be a journalist when you grow up.” In high school, my Tita Mary gave me a sketch pad. It was just a bunch of bond paper with green covers done in perfect binding. But I treasured that sketch pad. I would bring it to school every day, and while waiting for the teacher to arrive, I would draw my favorite cartoon characters on it. Sometimes, when the school bus was late, that sketch pad kept me busy. I must say I did some pretty neat pictures on that sketch pad, so I said to myself, “Maybe I could become an artist!” But that didn’t happen after high school. I went to the State University for a degre

Guess what! I’m listening to Sesame Street classics as I write this blog. And I’m on a roll! Since Saturday, I had been reliving the good old Sesame Street days. I discovered YouTube.com and I searched for all my favorite SS video clips… and it definitely brought back happy memories of my childhood. See, I grew up on Sesame Street . I remember watching the stuff since I was 4 or 5 years old. I learned my alphabet and numbers and shapes and about sharing and cooperation from Sesame Street (remember the Gonk and the Giffle?). I witnessed Maria and David dating, Luis and Linda falling in love, Gordon and Susan being happily married, Kermit singing about not easy being green, Maria marrying Luis (whatever happened to David?!?), Mr. Snuffle-upagus appearing and disappearing, Super Grover not being able to fly because someone was stepping on his cape, Ernie and Bert arguing about anything, the amazing Mumford (a la peanut butter sandwiches!)… Man, I could go on and on! But through the yea

Yub, you read id right, by title's dot a typo. By blogk isn'd riddled by typo's either. I've god a cold, that's why. I just wand you to ibagine how I speak by wriding this way. By sinuses have beed actig up for three whole days. I feel like I'b carryig a kigsize dose betweed by eyes. Id's depressig sindce I couldn't go out. I wanded do watch Superban todight but I can'd. I gotta rest. I'b goig home in a while. Id's a log weekend anyway, so I'll have plendy of tibe to sleeb.

For the past two years, I have been hooked on a not-so-typical detective series. It's called The Cat Who... Series by Lillian Jackson Braun. It's about a prize-winning crime reporter who adopted two Siamese cats--Koko and Yumyum. Together, this threesome solves mysteries. The mystery part is interesting, yes. But what keeps me glued to every page is the Siamese pair. I just love reading about how smart they are, and how fastidious cats could be. And so I decided, "I wanna get myself a Siamese!" But then again, during those two years, I had the privilege of knowing Simon. No, he's not the man of my dreams. He's a pug. A very loveable pug. His human says he's the runt of the litter, but what the hey! I still think he's adorable. And so at about the same time, I said to myself, "I have to find a pug for me!" So now, it's a toss up between getting a cat or getting a dog. And before I get to that final decision, I need to consider a few facto

I enjoyed my lunch yesterday. I totally enjoyed it that I thought of sharing with everyone my lunch experience. I was in Makati from 9am till 12noon yesterday. So I decided to have lunch at Amici di Don Bosco. It's right behind the church, just across Makati Cinema Square, but you have to go out the church gate and walk on Pasay Road to get there. The moment you enter the doors of Amici, your nose would be assaulted by cacophony of scents coming from the kitchen--mostly Italian! Instantly, you will be drawn to the pasta corner, where they concoct 28 varieties of pasta--from spaghetti to linguine, to fettuccine, or meccheroni--each cooked as you order. If you march deeper inside Amici, the smell of freshly baked pizza fills the air. And when you look to your left, the different gelatto flavors will definitely make your mouth water. My personaly favorites are the Pasta mOntanara (Spinach fusilli with sausage, bell peppers, red sauce, and a generous portion of mozzarella and pa

At last, I am finally home. Home as in my apartment. After almost 2 months of working rigorously on the Silver Book project, I am going back to my old routine—wake up at 8am, walk to the office, check my email, work till 6pm, go to a household prayer meeting, be home by 12 midnight, go to bed… and the cycle continues. Like clockwork. But one day out of the project and I begin to feel disoriented. Having been cooped up for more than a month, I suddenly feel that the world is too big and all I want to do is retreat to a little corner, away from everyone else. Maybe that’s what isolation can do to someone. But then again, as I think about it more and more, I realize it’s something else—I miss everything that happened in those one month and a half of being quartered in Mapayapa Village. Yes, that’s what it is! It’s not so much of being isolated, but the moments within that period of isolation. Aside from the back-breaking work (which is truly unforgettable), what I long for most are the la

For two straight weeks, I have been a house guest/ artist’s assistant of Tita Mariles. She’s the art director of our Silver Book project. Every day, we’d wake up, have breakfast at 7:30 with her family, eat again every two hours and work like there’s no tomorrow. No, we’re not trying to kill ourselves… yet. Maybe torture or some sort of self-inflicted pain. But suicide? Definitely out of the question. Don’t get me wrong. We enjoy the job extremely. I personally love it. It’s like a dream come true. I’m part of a huge project, and I’m helping out the art director do some actual graphic arts! It’s just that there’s so much to do, and there’s so little time. Last thing I heard, we’re gunning it for another week. Hopefully, this is the final week. And then we could all go back to our little routines again. Tonight’s actually the first time we turned in at exactly 10PM. Also, the case being tomorrow, the world will be celebrating Mother’s Day. And we really need a break (or

MY FRIEND, DOGLAS Meet Doglas. I just met him myself. He lives in Baguio City. He works there, too. He's kinda like a public figure up there. Lots of people want to have their picture taken with him. And who wouldn't? Just look at those large sorrowful eyes. He's a gwapo dawg, if I may say so. If you ever wander the streets of Baguio or stop by the Mines View park, just look for this large yet gentle giant of a St. Bernard. You wouldn't miss him. One look and you'll fall head over heels in love with him. He looks like someone who'll just cuddle and listen to your woes, although he's mcuh too heavy to be a lap dog. But like his fellow St. Bernards, Doglas seems like a dog that would rescue you from any danger. So next time you spend a few days in the City of Pines, have your picture taken with Doglas. It'll only cost you a few pesos. But you get to hug him all you want as you pose and say cheese.

Ever been down in the dumps? I'm still in it, and frankly speaking, I think I wanna stay here for a while. Sometimes, it's just as good to feel your misery. You know, just let it caress you a bit, wiggle your toes in it. Much like drinking in the wind as you walk on the beach, with your bare feet buried in the sand and sea water softly kissing your heels. I like that. But of course, i couldn't stay in it too long. I could get drowned in my sorrows. I could go deeper and deeper and not be able to come up for air. Disaster! For now, I'll stay. But by tomorrow, or the next day, I'd be ready to shake it off. See you in my happiness!