the Christmas that will be.

I am praying that this Christmas won't be like the one I had last year. So this year, I will plan this carefully and I will be a little selfish with my time just to spend it with my family. I owe this break and I am allowed to have an adult-reasonable curfew when I am out partying with my friends.

I am excited to shower my nephew, Theo with kisses. So is my brother, who haven't seen him since my sister Ann gave birth last July. I am addicted to my nephew like white chocolate. I am absolutely smitten by him!

I haven't really been looking into having children of my own..not yet. I started out late with my dreams and I'm still heading to that direction. Theo is my constant reminder that someday, I would like to have one. I would like to set up a trust fund for him so that when he grows up, his parents will not worry about a dime.

I checked my calendar availability, itenerary, stuff to bring and of course, christmas gifts, so for at least a week and a half, I can forget that Manila exists and I can get lost in my own little Baguio.

My best friends Missy and Jackie will set up our usual coffee talks at my favorite hangouts City Lights and Kafe Klutch, they are tucked away comfortably from the busy streetlights of Session Road and so I won't be bumping into some people I know when I'm half-drunk and laughing my a** off when Jackie cracks her share of jokes.

Looking forward to my favorite hobby: Food trip.

O' Mai Khan (best Mongolian cuisine ever!), my family frequents the place at any occassion and my favorite governess of the house Manang Dolor would greet me as I approach the entrance of the restaurant. She is very attentive to my family's needs and we always have someone on stand-by for every demand on sauce, napkins or chopsticks.

Most of their meals are garlic-based and spicy on the palate. Conqueror's Meal is their version of Crispy Pata, very tender to the bite and flavorful with a garlic bits. My mom's favorite is the mongolian barbecue, a smorgasboard of vegetables cooked to her liking with endless supply of oils and sauces. Their Lemon Chicken is the real deal! The quarter chicken is deep fried to perfection then the lemon sauce has a balance of the right tart and sweetness.

As the meal comes to a close, my Manang Dolor makes it a habit to tell her staff to wheeze a dessert cart filled with cheesecakes, chocolate domes and fruit cups beside our table, mom shakes her head disapprovingly as we hoard the cart and happily pig out the sugar madness!

Tea House I don't appreciate pasta at all, but I love noodles like Palabok. I heart this dish since as far as I can remember and Tea House has the best palabok with overflowing aligue (crab fat) sauce, tinapa (smoked fish) , tofu and pork cracklings.

The daughter of the owner, Pia, was my classmate in college and whenever I visit the place, she would ask the waiter to bring me a big complimentary bowl of Chona's Delight (resembles a Mississippi Mud Pie),sink your teeth into a light sponge chocolate cake drizzled with fudge and clotted cream.

Rito's Bulalo Everybody knows Baguio City houses PMA and a lot of cadets visit this place during pig-out weekends. I am living proof of this (chuckles) as my foster brothers would order bowls of Bulalo that has rich, buttery bone marrow then constantly dipped in patis, calamansi and sili.

Sylvia's This is near Saint Louis University, after class, we would empty our pockets for merienda and feast on native corn on the cob with butter and turon. Their Turon is usually large with strips of langka in the middle. This crunchy sweet is so addictively good that students would line up for hours just to get their sugar fix for the day.

Mama Peredo's Thank you Jenny for introducing me to a newfound love - Chicken Potato Pie, hands down for the creamy and cheesy concoction that this local bakeshop offer. It resembles a smooth and silky version of mashed potatoes mixed with sharp cheddar cheese, rosemary and spicy pepper chicken mix. I know my way around the kitchen and I have this knack on identifying some of the flavors thrown in to a really good food turned into a goldmine.

Baguio is such a wonderful place to come home to. Christmas won't be the same if it doesn't happen in the cold.

I will make everything happen on my Christmas break, and this is with the help of my friends and family. Break out the fine china and pop out the cork on my pink champagne. This princess is coming home...

June in December...

Two days before Christmas, I busily packed my things at the office, and hurriedly stuffed my big paper bag with gifts my agents gave me. I checked my watch and my bus was scheduled to leave three hours from now. I will be spending a week-long Christmas vacation in Baguio.

As I began to log off my computer, one of my co-workers V approached me and said: "June died.." her voice trailed off. Instantly, my world fell apart, I sat there for hours contacting friends telling the news that he have been on a motorbike accident that early morning and he did not survive the crash, I stared at the carpet shaking. I remembered June inviting me the day before with his teammates on a drinking spree but I declined the offer because I was needed someplace.

June was always the agent who came in late, often giving me an apologetic look as he logs in for calls. He was always sweet like a little brother asking me anything specially about his job. He would make me laugh and he'd always get my little stuffed toy off my computer so that he could play with it.

I called my mom telling her that I couldn't make it for Christmas. I mourned deeply for June's loss and I was depressed for days. It was the worst Christmas I had spending it with a block of ham and looking at the colorful parols hanging on the outside the streets in Manila.

After a few days, I went to his wake and June's mother held my hand tight as tears streamed down her face. June had that impact on me. He gave me strength and meaning to my leadership and I treated him as a friend. My team was my second family and looking after them was my pride and joy.

I have learned to grieve for a loved one in the worst way I know. I forgot how it was to exist in this world and that days would not stop if I had let my own life to rot. Slowly, I noticed that the sun seemed brighter than the usual and I started coming out of my shell, I will always love my June and I know he would have been happier if I let his memory go and enjoy life everyday. After his death, I came to know the good in everybody, that no matter how bad they can be, there is that genuine part of them that they will share to their closest circles. I learned that everyday is different than the rest and what I have done will be part of what I have become - I may not be able to go back to the past, but I still have a chance to make up for it. Chances are endless and treat one as if it is your last. That's why I am here - to make a difference.

Thank you, June. For coming to my life and for making it matter. You gave me reason to think that there is so much love to give as I have for you...

monday blah

Although this morning had been a wonderful start of the week (because B had been texting me nonstop today), work just drags me by lazily. My mind wanders to what I should get my family for christmas. Then I am (dreamily) wanting to be Kristine on Phantom of the Opera for our Office Christmas Party.

I talked to my good friend CeeCee via IM, and we've been reminscing about our Coney Island days in Baguio. After class, we would buy ourselves eskimo rolls at Coney Island in Session Road and buy colored cotton candies specially during Fridays after class.

I've been through a lot with CeeCee and she taught me wonderful things and welcomed me as a friend when my family moved to Baguio City. Even as kids, we knew that life would never be an easy road for all of us.

It was last July 16, 1990: the earthquake struck Baguio and the world stopped. The apartment that me and my family lived in had uncertain cracks everytime the earth shook. And near the apartment was a junkyard filled with really old cars. We would squeeze ourselves in a van and sleep when night fall. Those were hard and trying times for us and for Baguio. CeeCee and I shook at the horrid thought. We lost teachers and loved ones. The only thing that we did as a city was to move forward and rebuild our lives.

As I write this post, I shake my head, thankful that I am alive to this very day and to experience life's ups and downs. Then I sigh, thinking this is the hundred plus mondays that I will go through...

a little piece of chocolate

Whenever my Aunt Fely would come home from London, she bought us boxes of chocolates wrapped in pretty gold and red tin cans. It came with a moist-proof leaflet with pictures of the little chocolates and its flavors. But being the most impatient person to wait on specially sweets, I took one pretty little shell-shaped chocolate and popped it in my mouth. I threw it up easily as I had popped it in, the syrup poured out hurriedly and I tasted a bit of rhum or was that cognac?

My mom always tell me to take my time and choose what I want in a lot of things. But I hardly listen to her. Sure, I can wait in line for a few hours til I could finally get my class cards for my college enrollment or sure I can wait for a few extra minutes til my favorite food is cooked to my liking but what she really meant was having to decide on my own without being hasty.

My bad decisions pulled an overwhelming mix of heartbreak, confusion, anticipation, hurt and grief. It even involved a lot of people that I dearly love including my parents. But that's what being an adult is for. I thought parents will always be responsible for all the faults I did. But one way or another, growing up has to take place in the most unexpected turn of events.

But now I know how the game is played. I have learned that taking things slow is as beautiful as enjoying life. One little piece of chocolate at a time :)

moving House

I am finally moving to my new home - Blogspot! I had several journals lying around for the past few years and I needed something that I would be comfortable having all my blogs sitting pretty, having tea time, basking away for my future readers to chance upon (insert confident smiley here)
I call it "My Shoebox Journals" because since I was in grade school, I keep notes, letters, pictures and excerpts from things I learned from. These precious things are kept in the most unfashionable shoebox that I could find and when I feel empty, I go through them and I would feel so loved all over again.
This goes out to all those whose hopes and dreams are kept stacked in a box and waiting for it to burst open by eagerness and courage. These are the things in my life that will keep me grounded for as long as I can remember.
My shoe box is officially open...