I Turned 25 This Year

And this is where I spent my birthday.

Pandan Island, Palawan. Philippines

Dear You (#2)

I have spent the last two days in La Union, hanging out with my best friend Razel at her grandparents' house. We mostly stay in her room where we watch movies on her laptop, discuss our woes and then laugh about them; occasionally adjusting the ac when it gets too cold or too humid. We only go downstairs for meals and some TV, although we did leave the house this afternoon to go visit a local Chinese temple to take pictures.

Acquired Skill of the Week: French Braids

Boredom led me to browse Youtube videos for some hair braiding tutorials and play with my younger cousin's hair. The only braiding I could do before this was the very basic three-part one, so I focused on learning the French braid. Good thing my cousin has long hair and didn't mind sitting uncomfortably for prolonged periods of time. Once I'd thought I got the basics of French braiding down, I proceeded to play around.

Behold:

Day One: Attempt #1

Of course, I'm still trying to get the hang of this, so it's all still a bit messy for my taste, but hey, the day before yesterday I didn't even know how to make a simple French braid.

Here's another:

I didn't worry too much about my grammar either.

Something I Tell Myself Everyday

I don't necessarily succeed every time.

Terrible Days

Dear You,

Have you had lunch?
 
I just had some. Strange, but in the middle of it, right when I was getting ready to comment on a coworker's story, I wondered about you, and whether you've already eaten.

Single Word Sympathy

I have always found the word "condolence" to be a bit puzzling; a reason I have for not using it when expressing sympathy for someone who's dealing with the death of a loved one. To say to that person, "Condolence, (person's name)." somehow feels like giving an incredibly thirsty man hot chocolate to drink; its a nice gesture, but a glass of water would've been more appropriate.

Quarter-life Crisis, or What Am I To Do Now?

I've recently learned that Tito Chino's wife is going to New York City to work. She'd been hired by...an accounting firm, I guess (I didn't get the details) and she'll be leaving on the fourth of February. She already has an apartment in, if I'm not mistaken, Manhattan, and once she's settled in my uncle will follow.

This is great news for them, since I think they're potential is wasted here.  Hey, they are two of the most patriotic people I know, but when there are dreams to reach and mouths to feed, and you have opportunity like this knocking on your door, the only thing to do is to answer.

Uncle Anecdotes: Sneakers vs. Ice Cream

Upon learning that my uncle--let's call him Tito Chino, in honor of his prominent chin and the fact that the last two letters are the beginning of his real name--was hanging out in Megamall, I cut my train trip short and decided to meet up with him.

In the middle of the casual insults we greeted each other with--all in good fun, mind you--I mentioned that Converse came out with a limited edition Dr. Seuss series.

Ah, Google Image Search. You never fail to make me drool.

Insomnia

On weekdays You wake up. Clean up, dress up, go to work. then you arrive from work, clean up,  pray and go to sleep. On weekends there's cleaning up to do, chores to get out of the way, ministries to attend to until the weekdays start again. And then you come home, lay your head on your pillow, and, because you can't sleep, think.

You always hope that tomorrow would be different, that something would happen--a crash of thunder, a bolt of lighting, a sudden flash of inspiration, an epiphany, anything-- that would shake you to your core and make you sit up and take notice; something that would make you realize just what it is you're supposed to be doing with your life, what your plans ought to be, what you should be doing to achieve those plans. You pray for wisdom, and yet even as you do, you battle for faith, every moment a fierce struggle between all you think you know and all that you see happening around you.

Cultural Exchange

An entry taken from my journal, originally dated 09 August 2010.

This afternoon I came back from lunch with a small white envelope that simply had my name scrawled on it.