when i decided i’m ready to join the world of pompom mommies i told myself i won’t be one of those who treat their pet way too humany. for starters i will not refer to us as mommy and baby, yes that was broken rule number 1.
i tried not to go overboard with buying him things and limit stuff to the necessities, so far every brushes, leads, bed and sweater was justifiable. Sweater, yes that knitted sweater was the second broken rule. I have always pitied a dog on outfits as most often done not they look like ashamed of themselves and really really uncomfy. But after having Snow’s hair shortened under this cold wintry Wellington weather, i felt bad and decided maybe he needs one till summer arrives.
Snow love cuddles, snuggles and whole lot of licking, he seemed to be fascinated with my hands that he won’t stop whipping his tongue and making me feel his teeth, he’d chase my hands like his eyeing on a big price. on days i have to go to work which is 5 times a week i come home tired wanting to sleep as soon as i’ve refreshed, then i’de feel guilty we haven’t had our play time… hence enter broken rule number 3! Snow in my bed.
i know i know, i have to learn to stay firm. Even scolding him for pooping on the carpet ain’t easy when he looks at you with those doey eyes. i need to gather myself and decide that the NO NO’s should stay No. I need to work on my poker face.
there’s this filipino idiomatic expression that says “namamangka sa dalawang ilog” which according to google translate means “boating on two rivers.” this idiom is usually used when referring to two timing ass****s. No, this is not about cheaters and i am not giving a lecture on filipino literature (not my turf). this however is what i feel when it comes to “home.” they say home is where the heart is and as per the last time i checked my heart belongs to two places. i cannot decide between the two nor get enough of either one. always my bemused plight while i’m among these clouds.
i was about to concede to the dramas of flatting when the universe conspired and found me a lovely one bedroom unit, the bonus? pets were negotiable! as soon as i settled in, i started the search for the four legged friend. i had no idea then what i wanted, apart from i knew big dogs and few months old puppies would not be appropriate for someone living alone and working full time. i kept on looking through small dogs that are in quest for forever home and one day saw this 12 years old sable pomeranian. his name was basil and straight away i fell in love. contacted the owners son and drove almost two hours the following day just to meet him, sadly a week later i was told he was given to someone else.
heart broken, i decided to search for my own pompom and as destiny had it, i was brought to this pomeranian breeders website who had a one year old black pomeranian ready to be rehome, initially i thought he was no longer available as the post was bout 2 months back but after a few emails and text messages everything just fall right into place.
now meet SNOW. my clingy little lump of hair. he is just pawsome!
what better way to describe what befall a human in love. most of us tiptoe our way into the inevitable and once we let our guard down we dive right into without leaving a foot on solid ground. that is why it’s called “falling” in love in the first place. It is not always a happy ending though, whatever “happy ending” means to you. but like what Augustus said in the book, we cannot choose if we get hurt in this world… but we do have some say in who hurts us. so choose someone you will feel privileged to have broken your heart.
<photos taken two years ago, a collaboration of friends talent for a couple friend’s engagement shoot>
reading through my sissy’s blog brought back tidal waves of emotions. I remember what transpired this night as i spent my last day at home, that whole day i had that lump in the throat feeling as i was constantly holding back tears while i was savouring every interaction i had with each of them. I was memorizing each smile, the hum of their voices and the warmth of their embraces.
being away from the people you love is not the hardest… leaving is.
it always cuts way too deep and linger way too long till you are left with no choice but to be brave and make yourself believe “its ok, they are just FaceTime away.”
in my perfect world, my family is here with me in kiwi land. but the world is not mine and more so nowhere near perfect. i have come into terms that this is the choice i made and that i cannot have the best of both worlds.
for the interim, i move on in spite of our physical separation and take solace in knowing i have a family that i love and loves me the same, forever.
April in Fiji. It was supposed to be a birthday getaway with my bestfriend whom I have not seen since she moved to the land down under 3 years ago. Sadly she was not able to make it, though I happily ended up travelling with another girl friend. We stayed on Nandi’s famous “party island” Beachcomber, it was only a small island, and when I say small I meant you only need an hour (or less) to go around by foot. It was during the weekday, so “party” meant mostly having loud dance music and open bar from 7am to 4am. The food was mostly what the previous guest were complaining about when I was reading the reviews, but since Fijian cooking is not too far from Filipino cuisine, we had no qualms and in fact, we enjoyed the fresh catch fish however it was cooked. So what did I do while I had no access to internet? (yes, there was no 3G coverage) Sleeping. Swimming. Basking under the sun. Snorkelling in the deep, my first time, brought out the sissy in me but I enjoyed the thrill that I had to do it twice. And body massage, my forever to-do-list when on a holiday.
September in Goldcoast, Australia. My second visit. My first travel with group of friends. First off I must say we scored a really really cheap deal for this, say only about 275 nzd each person for a 5 nights stay in Sea World Resorts which also included our free unlimited entry to the theme parks: Sea World, Movie World, and Wet n’ Wild…super not bad at all. What does a group of friends do while in a theme park capital? Rides… slides… screams… the adrenaline rush. By far my scariest experience was dropping from a 90 feet slide that kick off from a transparent trap door where the floor disappear and releases you after a loud count of 3-2-1 and then all you could remember was the feeling of being flushed away into oblivion… only last bout 6-7 seconds though, yeah that fast =)
November in Auckland City, New Zealand. I’ve been to this place many times, but this trip was for The Mrs. Carter Show. Do I need to elaborate why this cut the wanderlusting post? This is my “biggest” concert experience to date. Beyonce was, what can I say? Total performer? She is indeed Queen B! It was surreal watching her live and yet still look and moves like I was watching her in the screen. The ticket cost more than my accommodation in Sea World Resorts, but it was all worth it!
Same month in Melbourne, Australia. Well actually I only touchdown in Melbourne but was in Geelong most of the 2 days stay. It was really not a leisure trip, for it was for a workshop my work sent me to though I got to visit and meet relatives whom I barely remember since I was not even on my teens last time I saw them. Did get to explore a little but unfortunately, the horrible blogger-slash-photographer-wannabe I am, I was not able to take much photo. The highlight of this trip? I got to stay in a Sheraton hotel in front of the beach and it was paid for! Glancing on water was all I did though, as apart from I barely had the energy hence the lack of photos, the shark sign board warning was enough to put me off, though they do have a designated fenced area where people get to swim worry free of shark. Yet for somehow who grew up watching JAWS, imagine my horror.
6 weeks in the Philippines over the holiday season. My long overdue home coming. It was crazy of me trying to pull off traveling back from Melbourne to New Zealand then 6 hours after I had to fly to Sydney then Manila, needless to say I was knackered. Lucky I was not travelling alone as I was barely awake while in transit. Home. Nothing beats being with family especially over Christmas. I went out and met friends though there were still a whole lot I was not able to meet. Food feast in traditional style (google lechon among others), in fact I gained 4 kilos in 6 weeks! My realization though is that the more I stay back home the more I love New Zealand. Not to sound ingrata but I guess I am now so used to the laid back lifestyle in Wellington and the courteous people. But hey it is always good to get a good dose of chaos once in a while, besides being with family renews my sanity big time.
i am not a public figure, but i do get days when i feel the world is one big fishbowl. that feeling you are in the middle of everywhere but absobloodylutely nowhere. and that every turn you make someone will witness, anyone will know, anybody will pass judgement…
although you will catch me acting on a ploy, throwing punch line in a whim, utter rather revolting comments, or just ridiculously caught in a spot. i do not purposely allow myself to become the sort of amusement. or at least i do not see it that way. the truth is, inside my fragile-privy-little-fishbowl, i am enjoying watching the missmash of life as one by one they unravel their real colour as the universe conspire.
while everyone was busy figuring out whether the glass was half full or half empty, i was busy deciphering the image the water was projecting…and from thereon i see stories from different points of view.
i basically grew up where a weekend brunch by the beach is almost like a tradition. when i was a kid the family would travel for what seems to be an hour aboard our slow tricycle (a motorcycle with built-in body/sidecar) with all 6 members of the family cramped inside.
I love the salty breeze, the feel of the sand and waves as it crashes on my feet. i miss making sandcastles and burying my self or someone in the sand. my siblings and i used to stay all day under the sun until our skin burns, and our hands and feet gets all wrinkly… well actually even that does not easily discourage us from playing by the beach.
though up until now i still can’t master swimming in the deep as the memories of all those JAWS movie gets the better of me (yes i was one of those traumatised kiddos and singing “under the sea” did no magic).
to me the sea brings calmness. it is a place where i would want to lurk before taking a leap. i can stare at the horizon endlessly. this is where my hope and dreams knows no limit. where the sky meets the sea, where i connect with my Maker.
naming your child after one of the calendar month ain’t new. though i’d say customarily parents would opt for the likes of April and May, they sound more normal for a namesake.
and hurrah! my parents went for JANUARY.
my name is somehow unique and trite all in one (or so i think). when you have such a tag, it is almost like an obligation to clarify when you are filling an info sheet that yes i know that today is September, yup that is my name and yes that is not my birthday.
you see, the trivialities does not end with my name. my birth month is December. No, i did not pop-out of this world too early nor my parents had miscalculated my expected date of arrival. It was just simply because of a movie titled “once is not enough” that happened to be my parents’ fave movie while i was being conceived. In the movie, the heroine was named January while her birthday was on December.
growing up i did not exactly like my name. i kind of feel weird and wanted a girly girl name like Samantha, Dorothy, Barbie (maybe not) or Alice. i did not particularly enjoyed the attention i was getting with my name. as a kid i did not find being easily remembered by the teachers as one of the perks of having a handle that simply stands out effortlessly (ahem) and when you are in grade school you do not exactly want to be different, you kind of want to be the same with everybody (how sad tsk tsk).
i did easily outgrown the indifference i felt towards my name. i could not exactly remember when and how, but i simply just became my name. i learned to love it to the point i would rather be known by full name rather than the short of it. for one, i find the “story behind” a good conversation starter. normally when i tell a person my name they just kind of lighten up, perhaps because by nature we are constantly curious? works particularly well when i am introducing myself to my patients. even made a seemingly grumpy looking immigration officer smile.
though it seemed uncommonly used as a name, i have known 2 other January in this lifetime, both from my hometown (what a coincidence), a girl and a boy, then we have January Jones the actress, though all three were born on the month they were named after.
i am a self confessed multi-tasker, combine that with my other alter ego, the full time procrastinator you’ll get… wallaaaah!… tadaaaaah!!!… hmmmmm… exactly my point… i am an ellipsis, there is a lot “in” there but you cannot exactly pin point, more so comprehend. i can be and almost always is, a series of unfinished business. i easily trail off…like in that movie, where the characters does acapella, they sang a madonna song, madonna is such an icon, hmm what shall i eat…. (see what i mean?).
i work as a nurse in a busy acute dialysis setting 40 hours a week (let us not include the unpaid break i do not normally get to use on top of that). the nature of my job alone is enough to justify how knackered i can be at the end of a days work, let alone shouldering extra responsibilities on top of your job description. i enrolled into a post graduate program, enough said. and though i am single it does not mean i don’t get domestically busy (duh, don’t get me started). and of course there are those monkey businesses on the side.
but how does a person like me get focus. YOU JUST DON’T! i mean not seriously i suppose. like when you are taking a photograph, you just take it ONE EYE AT A TIME (hence my favourite minion… yey! i got to connect my photos with my text!… not).
ever the multi-tasker i was able to squeeze this “shoot” in between taking a shower and laundry duties… and because i do not have time (hah!), they are all non-edited (no apologies). on a side note, which minion would you think will have more focus, the one with a pair of eyes or a single eye?
Carefree. To avoid stating the obvious I am not going to associate this word with food. Obviously my preference is way too vast that the word carefree will fall short.
In the world of microblogging posting of self-taken-close-up photo of one’s self has become nothing but the ordinary. Sometimes way too much that an entire album comprises of one person at one given time in, say, more than fifteen pictures in slightly different angle. NO, that is not what “carefree” means to me.
Carefree is when you are able to allow your candid, non-flattering, vulnerable moments captured and showed off in social media. Please do not mistake my reference to this term to pictures that gives too-much-information (TMI, a.k.a. pictures of you and your lover post private moments). This is simply you being human, flawed and yet happy with your own skin kind of way. Unscripted. Non-edited (almost).
To press my point, here are “selfie” carefree moment overload… I did warn you this blog is about “I, me and myself” ^_^
I live in a city that has forever been preparing for disasters. Just this year the entire country had the first nationwide earthquake drill. I remember, as part of new employees orientation was a whole day activity on emergency management. That was when i realise i live in a city that “lies within the earthquake-generating collision zone between two of the Earth’s great tectonic plates, and sits on top of one of the zone’s most active geological faults – the Wellington Fault.” Back then the danger was not real to me. 2 years ago when Christchurch earthquake happened that was when i started to entertain thoughts of “what ifs.” 3 days ago i was woken up by a nasty shake that seemed to have lasted for 15-forever-seconds and an even greater magnitude later on that day while i was at work on a hospital that was built to sway along with the earth’s movement. That was when the thoughts shifted to “when it happens.”
Originally the plan was just to find my way to the hospital where i would be of use. I guess it is the most logical since apart from i am a nurse, i do not have my family whom i have to stay behind with. Then it hit me i also need to do my part for the preparation. With the countless reminders and disaster planning tips from different New Zealand agency I was able to gather my kit to make me self-sufficient for at least 3 days.
At the moment i can say i am calmer as compared to the last 5 days of being edgy. I still feel my heart skip a beat even from a minor jolt and though sometimes i wonder if i am just imagining. I have become accepting that this is happening and i am surrendering it all to Him. I have a clear plan mapped out in my brain what and where to go when it happens. And it eases my heart knowing that at least my family does not have to go through this as well (the only time i am happy they are not here).
I remember one afternoon during my Uni days in Ateneo de Cagayan, I went home to my boarding house and as soon as I closed the door i cried. I vaguely remember what brought upon the tears apart from it was Father’s Day and I just missed him. Back then even with the 4 hours distance I go home almost every weekend, I have always hated being the only one away from the family. We do not have an extra ordinary relationship but we are far far far from estranged. It is just simply father-daughter friendship.
He was the one who taught me how to drive, I will always keep a fond memory of that. Learning from experience it is not easy to stay patient supervising a newbie driver, much more if the newbie driver was me! I remember pointing out to him “that boy is my crush” one afternoon when he fetch me during high school, he just gave a soft laugh. I remember speaking to him on the phone and told him I have a boyfriend, I was already working then and all he said was “you’re old enough.” I used to rest my head on his used-to-be-big-tummy. On my high school days, I have legally gone to disco pubs, given I tell my parents what time I am going home and on the dot of the hour I have said I will go home, my papa will be there right behind me in the dance floor!
I used to resent not inheriting papa’s nose (no offence to mama) and papa’s brown eyes. I realised though that in so many ways I am really my papa’s daughter. For one we both have the ability to become indifferent to people whom we have loved or cared for but has hurt us badly (i know i know not exactly the best example). He can be sweet, bungisngis and child like at times but he can also be scary when pushed far enough. I guess what I am trying to say is he is not perfect. Like mama he is also flawed. And together they are perfectly flawed. Ahem.
I can’t wait to be back home this year. For it is only in the arms of my father that again I can play one of my most favorite role in this world, that being a child… a daughter.
35 years. you would have thought you are by now armed with wisdom. that you’ve been there and done that. that you should know better.
unsurprisingly I have proven my self the opposite. I have actually, i hate to admit, lost my mojo.
for example. i used to think i have a good judgement of character, as it turned out this couple of months i have read and re-read people wrong. trusting may be a positive quality, but i have somehow found myself overdoing to the point of being complacent. i have not been careful in choosing who can hurt me. in short my guard were down way too long and wide.
but then i guess that is the beauty of life. everyday is not the same day. not even an eternity will make you experience everything twice the same. not even you know your self in absolute certainty.
but there is no reason to dwell on things sad and painful. let us only cherish happy memories. learn from every experience. stand up from every fall. move on from every heartache. remove yourself from the cause of adversity. or like in my case, develop indifference if you must. cause tomorrow is another chance. another venture. another drama. perhaps.
I was going through some post in facebook and I saw this. Nice outsmarted Honey (not that one is smarter than the other). Suddenly I missed having my sisters around. Flashback of laughters shared with my sibs that normally ends with one asking for an explanation of a joke or worst a replay just brought that niggling homesickness right “in-your-face” kind of way.
Sisters. You’re the only ones who can get away with my pet peeves and the ones who will never pass judgement even when I go ballistic over “nothing.” I miss living with yous. I miss sharing a room with yous. and oh, did I mention I miss youz???
today i shed tears of joy when i saw a patient who received a second chance to life… to pee (lame attempt to be funny).
i used to unable to stomach the sneering wit of this patient. at some point i secretly avoid taking him in as he just annoys me with his every mockery of the (free) service/treatment he is receiving, from the “cheap” chairs, brand of tea, to just about anything. on a side note, and in my defence, i am not solo in this repugnance. he is just that kind who gets under everyones skin. took almost a year to get used to.
then today i heard he got the “call” days ago and is doing well after a transplant. i was not instantaneously ecstatic but i was happy. sadly, work does not give you enough time to linger on an emotion and so i thought i had no time to celebrate the good news. but when he dropped by at the middle of our shift i jump out of my chair, gave him a hug and we both were teary eyed while he told me how everything is still like a blur to him up until now.
my own reaction surprised me, this is not my “pet” patient and i am surely not his. maybe it is just without doubt i love what i do and moments like this helps me thrive after such an annus horribilis at work. otherwise it will be easy for me to just turn my back and find something else or go somewhere else. allow me to moan and you’ll find yourself innately screaming “enough already” as i can give you a litany of the painstakingly stressful ordeal a nurse, like me, deal with on a daily basis. but it only takes one good news. or just one nice patient (the kind who will literally unwrap and fed you a lolly after you have declined more than twice to eat what she is offering because you have your dirty hands full and that stopping even for a second seems impossible).
i love as much as i hate. same as i delight as much as i mourn. but this is why i am still here. this is who i am. and this is what makes me feel alive.