Kontra Kultura

Grammar Police—If Not We, Then Who?

2012-07-24T03:14:00.000+08:00

I can't sleep.

Well, technically I got a few hours of zzzz's but then I had to get up at 1:00 AM to go to the bathroom. And now, I am writing this—at 2:23 in the morning.

But that's not the only thing I'm doing. I'm also googling. What about? The Elements of Style. Grammar, usage tips. Grammar police memes. Why? Because that's what I've suddenly become —a grammar police. Look, I even have a badge to show for it.

I'm not sure I like this new fixation, but it's like an itch that needs to be scratched. I guess when you've been doing something for so long, you just can't get rid of it easily. It becomes a part of your system, like breathing.

No, I am not being self-righteous, nor am I saying that I know everything because I don't. And I have mounds of books and e-books on writing and grammar to attest to that. Strunk and White and Webster remain to be my best friends. And I am forever grateful to my English teachers in St. John's for they have instilled in me the passion for writing and a good command of the English language. Of course, I also have my editor-in-chief and managing editor in MOD to thank for my writing and editing skills and for giving me the confidence to have my byline in print.

I remember writing my first ever article. I don't remember what it was about, but I do remember Miss Chay summoning me to her office and telling me, "This piece is good. But don't you think it would look better if we do this (crossing out an entire sentence with her pencil) and write this instead (while writing over the crossed-out sentence)?" I also don't remember how many times she did that on that one article. But I most definitely remember this: the only thing I recognized in that first article I wrote was my name.

Did that stop me from writing more articles? No! In fact, I wrote an average of 5 articles a week after that. That's 260 articles in my one year stint in MOD! Roughly translated, that's why I could afford to have lunch at McDonald's every day, despite our humble basic pay! (Yes, they paid us extra for those articles.)

And that is why I cringe at every written piece that is published on the internet that has not gone through editing. I literally get chest pains reading them! What has happened to the written word?

My friend, a freelance journalist, rants about this in her Facebook status all the time. And now, I find myself doing the same thing. Well, almost... Instead of ranting, I write about it. Why? To get the pain off my chest. And hopefully, to spark some inspiration in others like us.

Alone, I can't correct the whole worldwide web. Hopefully, together with others in the GP Force, maybe—just maybe—we can make a dent.

He who ignores discipline despises himself, but whoever heeds correction gains understanding. ~Proverbs 15: 32

Absolute Joy

2012-06-19T19:53:00.003+08:00

The other night, I had a realization. But prior to that, 4 days before to be exact, I had this conversation with a friend:

Friend: Have you ever longed for something, and when it finally comes, you realize that the joy you had anticipated while waiting for that something to happen is several notches lower that when what you're longing for finally comes true?

Me: I guess... Does getting excited over my Mac count? And when I finally get it, I find that the excitement isn't as 'exciting' as I imagined it...

Friend: I asked Sr. Mary about it, and you know what she said?

Me: What?

Friend: God doesn't give us absolute joy over something or someone so we will be reminded that only He can give us that joy.

Trite as it may sound, I would have to agree. That conversation really got me thinking about... things.

For the past year or two, I had been praying about my state of life. I have shared my discernment process with mature Christian women who I know will pray with me and guide me with their wisdom. I read books about finding out about God's will. But each time I am confronted with making a decision, I ask myself this question: Will I be truly happy if I go into a relationship?

Honestly, I never got an answer to that. Why? Because I refused to find out what the answer is. Until that day last week.

Thus, the realization.

So what did I finally realize? That yes, only God can satisfy me. And yes, people will always disappoint me. So does that mean I should settle for second best and just agree to be with anyone who comes my way? Of course not!

God's best is still God's best. He will not be perfect, for I am imperfect myself. Yes, we will disappoint each other at times. And when that time comes, it will be reminder for me to cry out to God so He can fill and satisfy me.

Going Back to Your First Love (Or, some post-Valentine's Day thoughts from a single girl)

2012-02-29T22:29:00.000+08:00

Sigh... what girl doesn't remember her first love? Certainly not me. Call it lame, but you have to admit, first love can make or break a girl.

So, what's this über-post Valentine's Day post on first loves trying to drive at on this last day of February?

Well, before we go there, let me point out three facts:

it's still the LOVE month;
2012 is a leap year, and today is leap day, February 29;
today is the day my first love died... literally.

Ok, so the cat's out of the bag. Believe it or not, February 29 was the exact day he left me... for good. And no, he didn't run off with some girl and knocked her up. Or exchanged me for a job in New York, like what Angel Locsin's ex-boyfriend did in Un-officially Yours. He died.

I used to wish that he had instead married another girl, or took a job overseas, rather than... you know. At least I would still have the chance to see him. But dying, it's such a final thing. And if I were to do what my main title says, it would be impossible. There's just no one for me to go back to.

Which brings me to how I spent Valentine's Day. No, I didn't go out with someone. I went out with 10 other people. Not on a typical group date, but on a quite unconventional way of celebrating LOVE day--a prayer meeting.

(Note to reader: I will pretend you aren't rolling your eyes or faking a gag and just get on with this post.)

Yes, I went to a prayer meeting, where we talked about First Love the entire evening. At first, I was kind of wary about where the evening would lead to. And although the topic was refreshing to hear, somehow, I felt that I may have missed a point or two of the whole thing. Until I watched Un-officially Yours.

Because right in the middle of the break up scene between John Lloyd and Angel, I realized something. This girl can never go back to her first love because her first love had hurt her so badly, she thinks she is incapable of giving love again. And today, THIS GIRL (writing this blog) can never go back to that first love because there is no first love to come back to anymore.

And so, tonight, prior to writing this, I had gotten emotional, and started thinking about him, and entertained all those what if's in my head, rationalizing about how human relationships can fail you but a relationship with the Divine will never fail... yadda. yadda, yadda!

Then it hit me: I do have a First Love I can go back to! Some people may not understand, but I do. We all do.

But I will not bore you on how we talked about it on that unconventional Valentine's date. One thing I know for sure, I can go back to that First Love again and again and again, no matter how many times I leave or throw it away or exchange it for something of less value.

REMEMBERING AUGUST 22

2011-08-23T09:17:00.000+08:00

Today is a special non-working holiday. Why? Because it’s been 20 years since the great Benigno Aquino Jr. was felled by a single gunshot wound at the tarmac of the Manila International Airport.

Actually, yesterday, August 21, was the real anniversary of Ninoy’s death. But since the historic date fell on a Thursday, good ol’ GMA decided to move the commemoration of Mr. Aquino’s heroic death to a Friday. (The better for us working people to enjoy the long weekend, I guess.)

So, what makes the day special, anyway? An extra day to sleep in and wake up late? For most people this day may just be one of those holidays. But definitely not for me. Because today, I grieve. For exactly a day after Rolando Galman allegedly shot the great senator, in the middle of a nationwide blackout, my mother passed away.

It was a school day. I remember wearing my new P.E. uniform for the first time that day. Mom was already in the hospital then. In fact, she had been in the hospital for the last two months or so. She was confined in the ICU, already at the final round of her fight against breast cancer. Of course, we—as in my brothers, my sister and I—didn’t know that. We thought she was getting better, and that one day, she would be coming home and things will be back to normal. No, she wasn’t dying. She was gonna get well.

At around lunchtime, our neighbor Aling Cel, came to the school to pick us up. She didn’t tell us why she was picking us up though. In fact, nobody told us why we were being picked up—not our teachers, nor principals, nor Mom’s best friend who worked as one of the school’s staff. Aling Cel simply asked us to get our school bags because we were going home. I even remember thinking that maybe, that was the day we were going to Baclaran or Quiapo or the Manila Cathedral to hear Mass together—Daddy, Mommy, Jay, Mia, Don and I—as thanksgiving for Mom’s victory over her illness.

The jeepney ride from San Juan to Mandaluyong was uneventful. I’ve taken that route 7,000 times since I was a pre-schooler with missing front teeth. When we got home, I didn’t notice anything unusual either. The house was quiet and dark and it smelled clean. It was always looked and smelled like that at noontime. It was the kind of look and smell that lulls you to take a nap on a banig rolled out on the cold floor.

However, this look and smell was suddenly shattered by my youngest brother’s voice. “Ate, patay na daw si Mommy?”

Mommy? Dead? What was this silly boy talking about?

I remember looking quizzically at Aling Cel, but she didn’t offer an answer. The only time it finally hit me was when I saw my Tita Mary walking towards me, tears welling incessantly from her eyes.

I couldn’t say that the world stopped spinning and that a pain so great rushed to me that it knocked me out at that particular moment. As a matter of fact, I couldn’t remember feeling anything. There was no hugging and crying, no tears mixing with saliva, no wailing. We kids just sat there on the sofa—all four of us—as our adult relatives started coming one after the other.

Well, they were crying. But they were crying among themselves! It was like we kids weren’t supposed to be let in on a secret, so they left us alone and, well… cried. The next thing we knew, we were on our way to Batangas to wait for my mom’s body.

Fast forward 2003. It’s August 1, and I am face to face with a counselor. I was caught unaware by one of her questions: “Have you ever grieved your mother’s death?”

I couldn’t answer her question. Maybe because until now, I didn’t know what grief meant. I tried to recall the next few days after Mom left us, and I could not remember any instance when I was hugged or comforted by anyone during her wake. I can’t remember anybody who allowed me to just cry and cry until all my tears ran dry.

“Maybe those tears are still there inside,” my counselor said.

Wow. If those tears are really still in here, 20 years after my mother died, then I must be like a dam that’s waiting to burst!

And so today, I decide to burst. Today, I’m going somewhere private. I’ll bring flowers and candles and just sit there. Today, I will grieve. Grieve over the times my Mommy and I should’ve spent days shopping for clothes and makeup. Grieve over the days when Mom and I should’ve shared hours and hours talking about love and life. Grieve over all the movies we should’ve cried with and laughed at together. Grieve over the days when we should’ve shared tears over my lost loves. Grieve over not being able to share with her my victories and achievements. Grieve over the times when Mom and I should’ve fought, and later on kissed and made up. Grieve over the days when we could’ve exchanged e-mails and texts messages.

Yes, today I grieve. Because tomorrow, I start to live.

I wrote this last August 21, 2004. I never got the chance to have it published, so I placed it here. It's now 28 years since my mom passed away.

Restless Mind

2011-08-13T00:14:00.001+08:00

"Mixed feelings, like mixed drinks, are a confusion to the soul." -George Carman

Although my body feels tired from playing badminton earlier, my mind is exactly the opposite. Somehow, there seems to be a hint of restlessness inside my head that I couldn't quite explain.

Confusion? Maybe... I tried to explain it by looking for a suitable quote on the internet. And that one on top is what I found.

Yep, that could be it. I could be feeling a bit confused. About what? Hard to say. All I know is I have a lot of "why's" swirling inside my skull. I don't even know if all this is worth it, but I guess I'll stay here and swim in the swirl for a while.

http://lateralaction.com/articles/mind-maps/

I know I'm just blabbering, and I know no one would give a hoot about this rambling. But I felt I just had to ramble. This kinda gets things out of my head. Until the next time when the source of my perplexity shows up again.

Maybe I should do mind mapping. Will it explain the confusion? Probably not. But it could be fun. Might even take my mind off the muddle for a while...

Total Customer Satisfaction

2011-07-16T14:24:00.000+08:00

I woke up this morning thinking, "I'm ordering breakfast!" So I got up, turned my laptop on and proceeded to order online. However, after about half an hour, I had this feeling that my order wasn't coming. So I dialed the delivery hotline. What happened next is not what I would consider blog-worthy, so I'll just leave it to your imagination.

I'll give you a clue: if there was ever an irate caller award, I would have gotten it this morning. And now that the episode is over, I try to recall what exactly it was that triggered me to become irate in the first place.

I trusted them to deliver. And when they failed to do so, I got disappointed. But why get disappointed over a trivial thing as food delivery? Ah, I know. I put them on a pedestal! I loved them to the max, to the point of arguing with people why I am so gung ho on them! But they let me down...
I believed in them when they said TOTAL CUSTOMER SATISFACTION. But after talking to their phone agents, and exchanging emails with their customer relations person, I realized that these people threw TCS out the window! Worse, they could've killed it! I was talking to robots who answered from a script and didn't know how to handle such a simple situation. My sister worked as a crew member in this burger chain, and she told me outright, "Sus, hotcake lang di pa nila inihabol!" Was her training 20 years ago different from how they train their crew today? What ever happened to world-class, pioneering and upping the standards?
People don't pay close attention to detail anymore. I wrote their customer relations via email, I get a response, quick. "Dear Ms Alma Perez..." What the fudge?! The name's Alma Alvarez, thank you very much! No wonder things are topsy-turvy over at their end!

My friend, whose family owns one of the oldest and most respected steak houses in the country (and it's not just because the President brings his dates there), posted a comment on my Facebook status: "Superb service is something every human being is capable of giving. Does not cost more, just the right attitudes from top to bottom. It looks like Filipinos do not have their heads on straight, or their hearts in the right place." I couldn't agree more.

Each time people do something, shouldn't excellence be the top objective? But this group of 20-somethings who man the customer relations department of huge reputable corporations only believe in "Pwede na yan!" And I pity them. Mediocrity scares me, and here we have a whole segment of the population thriving on that.

Pursuing excellence does not depend on the task. One could be a street sweeper, but if he strives to be the best there is, then he is doing his job well! After all, the Bible did say in 1 Corinthians 10:31, "So whether you eat or drink, or whatever you do, do everything for the glory of God."

So, if ever total customer satisfaction has flown out the window, I just pray it isn't lying dead somewhere.

Dancing in the Rain

2011-07-11T01:53:00.000+08:00

I hate the rains. Rainy weather makes me feel sad. But now, thanks to my new rain boots, I don't have reason to be sad anymore. I'll just wear them, and sing and dance in the rain!

My striped rain boots... now the rains can be fun!

Just Me, My Mac and My Rainy-day Congee

2011-07-09T20:21:00.000+08:00

I woke up to the pitter-patter of steady rain this morning, and I thought, "Is it safe to go out?" To tell you honestly, I wasn't too keen on getting out of bed, stepping into the shower and heading out the door. I had an appointment at 1:00PM, so I would have to brave the streets, rain or no rain. But then, a sudden turn of events prevented me from keeping my I:00, so I stayed in bed.

All throughout the day, all I did was to pin and re-pin. On Pinterest. My latest craze. Until I got hungry... uh-oh, dinner time.

Still, it was raining, and I was tempted to dial delivery. But then I remembered I didn't have any cash on me. So I searched the fridge for some comfort food. And there it was, frozen in time, my leftover congee. I quickly whipped up a roast chicken, shrimp and egg congee and went back to my room for more lazing around...

So here we are--me, my Mac and my congee--all cuddled up on this rainy Saturday. And then I realized, it had been a pretty long time since I did this! Don't get me wrong. I love my family and my friends, and I love having them around. But some days, a girl just needs her "alone time". And today was the perfect time.

June was hectic, last week was pressure-filled. Add to that a major decision I have to make in the next few days... which makes today's "alone time" truly special.

My alone time also gave me a lot of perspective about that major decision I have to make. It made me see myself as I truly am, and made me appreciate my worth as a person and as a worker in God's vineyard. It made me feel loved by my Father, and He has assured me that He has my back, whatever I do or wherever I may be going.

So far, things seem to be falling into place. I am just waiting for the Lord's go signal before I take the step out of my present comfort zone into my next mission area. But for now, I need more time in my room... to talk to Him so He can point me to the direction I should take.

But when you pray, go away by yourself, shut the door behind you, and pray to your Father in private. Then, your Father, who sees everything, will reward you. -Matthew 6:6

The Biggest Pearl?

2011-06-16T15:39:00.000+08:00

Trivia: did you know that the biggest pearl was found in the Philippines in 1934? The Pearl of Lao Tzu, also known as the Pearl of Allah, measures 24 cm in diameter and weighs 14.1 lbs.

Pearl of Lao Tzu (aka Pearl of Allah)

Though it is not considered precious by gemologists (since it came from a large clam, thus having no iridescence), the story behind it makes it quite precious:

The pearl came from the Philippines. Wilburn Cobb, an American who brought the pearl from the Philippines in 1939 and owned it until his death in 1979, published an account of how he came to own it in Natural History Magazine. According to Cobb, he wanted to buy it from a Philippine tribal chief when he first heard of it in 1934, but the chief did not want to sell. However, in 1936 Cobb saved the life of the chief’s son, who was stricken with malaria, and was given the pearl as a token of gratitude.

-source: wikipedia

In the US, the pearl was exhibited at the Ripley's Believe It or Not Museum, and was valued at $3.5million. Wow! In 2007, its value was estimated to be $93million! Double wow!

Such is the value of pearls, that it is but fitting to liken the Lord's kingdom to a precious pearl (Remember the parable of the hidden treasure and the pearl of great value? Look up Matthew 13: 44-46.)

The next trivia question then, could be: how are pearls formed? When an irritation, say a grain of sand or a live parasite, gets lodged inside an oyster, the oyster immediately creates a defense mechanism in order to arrest the irritation. It covers the irritant in a sac, and then the mantle of the shell produces layers and layers of calcium deposit around the irritant. Since the inside of a mollusk shell is iridescent, meaning, the color of the surface changes when viewed from different angles, such iridescence transfers on to the pearl surface, creating a beautiful color pattern.

Now, why am I talking about pearls? My mouth spurts forth pearls and anything pearly because this year is a year of pearls for my prayer community. We are celebrating our Pearl Anniversary, we are at the tail-end of a Pearl Book project, and I am on my way to producing a pearl myself.

Why? Because at this point in my life, I am experiencing irritants. I have sand and live parasites lodged in my shell. And numerous as they are, I am trying my best to arrest each one with a sac and coat them with iridescent calcium deposits.

However, I do not feel I am succeeding. Each day, there seems to be a new one, waiting to shoot itself into my shell and poke me. My only saving grace is the knowledge that whatever irritants may come, they couldn't kill me. Because they're just that--irritants.

However, I don't see this ending just yet. There are more to come. I want to say, "Bring it!" real bad, but I guess not now. I'll just let these pearls stew for a while. Who knows, the biggest pearl could be taking shape. I just wish it would be as precious as its size would command. And that those around me will value it as much.

“Do not give what is holy to dogs, and do not throw your pearls before swine, lest they trample them under their feet, and turn and tear you to pieces.” - Matthew 7:6

Today, I Was at My Worst... Rawr!

2011-06-02T01:55:00.000+08:00

After 2 weeks of sleepless nights, overflowing coffee and all-you-can-eat food due to a project, I can say that today, I was at my worst. I don't know what it is, though I suspect PMS, but today, I was ready to pounce on the next unsuspecting victim. If anyone had in any way crossed me earlier, I would have snapped his or her head off, chewed it crudely and spit it on the pavement! Rawr! Good thing the people around me ignored me the whole time, so there wasn't anything or anyone who triggered the episode.

My brother often teased me about my temperament. He says it comes with age, but who'd believe him? Hehehe...

Anyway, as I was looking at those 4 letters up there on the kitty photo, I got curious and googled 'rawr!'. Guess what? 'Rawr' actually means 'I love you' in dinosaur! Or am I the only one who didn't know?

I still find it interesting, though. Imagine, something that sounds like something as undesirable as a growl actually is a declaration of undying affection!

Which brings me to my usual reflection/ realization: something as ugly as the pressure that comes with the desire to accomplish a particular task or mission can be turned into a motivation to strive harder, to push yourself more, to stretch until the breaking point. That despite the shortcomings of each person, God is there to fill in the gaps and blanks and make everything whole and perfect.

Thank You, Lord for today's "Rawr!" moment. Rawr back at You!

Some Days, You Just Don't Have Enough Middle Fingers

2011-05-21T00:54:00.000+08:00

A week ago, I saw something that made me feel like punching the lights out of someone. I was so mad, I had to post how I felt in my social networks. I could've talked to someone about it (I was with three other people then), but we were just so caught up in what we were doing that I didn't feel like disturbing them over something like that.

A few people posted their concern, and one even offered to take me out and drown the feeling with a free movie and dinner (thanks, Ate Mina!). Thank God for friends!

Three days, a chick-flick, a heart-to-heart talk with a friend and a Vietnamese dinner later, I thought about what miffed me that day, and I must admit, what I deemed disturbing then was, in reality, quite trivial.

And so, on days when you feel like throwing a fit over anything that went wrong, don't. A couple of days later, you'll just laugh it off and realize that it wasn't a big deal after all.

Let all bitterness, wrath, anger, outcry and slander be put away from you, with all malice. --Ephesians 4:31

Confessions of A Blogging Dropout

2011-05-08T22:19:00.000+08:00

Last night, I thought of posting a new blog... after 7 long months. I ended up sleeping without turning the computer off. Talk about delinquency...

And now, I sit here in front of my computer. Thinking about what to write. And I couldn't think of any!

Yes, my friends. I have become a blogging dropout. I cannot put a thousand words together to write about anything. I couldn't say that there weren't any excitements in my life for the past 7 months. Maybe it's just the drive to write that's gone out of the window.

But how can that be? I used to write for a living! If I still did, I would be homeless, hungry and unclothed right now. But what can I do to re-ignite my passion for writing?

After a brief introspection, I came to the conclusion that in order for me to get back on the writing wagon, I need to do 5 things. Thanks to about.com, I found 5 simple things to do in order to get rid of writer's block.

Get started! I kept postponing my writing for days. Eventually, the days turned into weeks, weeks in to months--7 months to be exact! Hopefully, this entry would jumpstart my writing.
Capture ideas. Oh, I do that! I have this folder in my computer labelled "Research" where I save ideas for writing. I guess I just have to "unfreeze" these ideas and turn them into blog entries.
Cope with the badness. Sometimes, what stops me from writing is the thought that I might write something terrible & unworthy of being read. However, William Stanford, a widely-read America poet, said, "Lower your standards and keep writing." So, ok.
Establish a routine. Uh-oh... I think this is another problem area for me. I hate routines. *sigh*
Write! Now, we've come full circle. I can't let laziness overpower me! I gotta write!

Funny, as I write this, my prayer time keeps coming into my mind. Yep, I confess. Not only have I been remiss with my writing, I have taken my prayer time for granted as well. Mine's more of a now-you-pray-now-you-don't life. (If my prayer group leader would see this, she'd schedule me for a one-to-one session right away!) Like, I'd pray religiously each morning for, say, a month or 2 or even 3, then go back to a quick, "Good morning, Lord!". Then, I'd learn a creative way of praying, but after a few months, I'd get bored again. And then it's back to the quickies.

Sheesh! God really knows how to make me see my folly. It happens every time--He just uses people, things or activities that are dear to me to teach me important and life-changing lessons.

So, what now, brown cow? I guess it' resolution time. As I beef up my writing, I guess I need to strengthen my prayer time too. I have to get started, find creative ways of praying, pray even when I don't feel like it, pick a regular prayer time (Ugh! The routine!), and just pray!

Be joyful always; pray continually; give thanks in all circumstances, for this is God's will for you in Christ Jesus. -Thessalonians 5:16-18

WORD MYSTERY

2010-10-20T20:07:00.000+08:00

While researching for Christmas photos for the new banner ad I'm making for the office website, I chanced upon a site called This Jar of Clay. How did I get there? Well, it's because the image I right-clicked led me to this page. Turned out, it was a blog by a young Australian guy. And right there in the middle of my screen was this video.

After watching this, I was... wha...?! ah... umm... ack... I mean, what the fudge! But then, I step back and think about my reaction. And that's just it. We tend to over think. I tend to over think. We have this tendency to over-analyze situations that we fail to get our true message across.

Oh, I am so guilty of this! How many times have I stopped myself from asking, "How are you today?" or "Are you alright?" with genuine loving concern because I was afraid the other person might read into it differently? Or because I was afraid the other person might sense how much I truly care and that he (or she) would find the gesture awkward? Baka mapahiya lang ako.

Wait, I'm not saying we should just recklessly open our mouths and say whatever it is that we feel. Remember, words could either make or break a person, and that we should lift up one another with our words and not destroy. And so, if what we want to tell another person would truly lift up his spirits and ease whatever burdens he or she may have, or let the person know that there is someone who cares, why stop yourself?

Go ahead, say it. Don't wait for a sign from above or a hint in his or her voice. For all you know, what you will say could be the only thing that person needs to hear at that moment.

LESSONS FROM A GIRL NAMED JUNO (OR HOW TONIGHT TURNED OUT TO BE AN EVENING OF S-E-X)

2010-10-19T20:15:00.000+08:00

If there was ever a more intellectual film that I saw tonight, it would be Juno. I'm sure those of you who saw the film would agree. It's about a 16-year-old girl who got pregnant and decided to put the baby up for adoption. That was basically the beginning and the ending. But the stuff in between—totally what made the difference!

But wait. You might be wondering what the subtitle up there in parenthesis means. See, prior to watching Juno, I snuck a peak at a couple of old movies which had the word “sex” in the title. Honestly, I didn't know what to expect with the 2 films. If I took the title at face value, I guess I wouldn't have placed such a premium on the movies. But I didn't. In my mind, the films would at least be artsy. But no! The title was what the movie was... exactly! It was nonsense sex from beginning to end! I was aghast! (Notice the frequency of those exclamation points?) No matter how I look at it, I just couldn't see how anyone in his or her right mind could see such films. They were absolutely tasteless! Watching them felt like watching a double program porn in Avenida!

You may ask, So, what on earth were you thinking when you decided to watch those films? To be perfectly honest, I don't know. I guess I just wasn't thinking. Shamefully, I must admit I wasted 3 hours on them.

To save my bruised conscience, I decided to go for Juno. I heard the film was great, plus the soundtrack was awesome. And then, there it was, looking me straight in the eye—sex, and what happens when we are confronted with it.

I myself was confronted with sex more than 10 years ago. I can tell you the story, but I won't. Just read my blog 100% Pure. And not intending to sound holier-than-thou, I just want to say that my views of sex today are within the bounds of scriptural wisdom, as compared to 10 years ago. So does that make me holier? Let's just say I'm working on it.

Having been sexually active once upon a time, I would be a hypocrite if I say I don't think about it anymore. And having watched these 3 films gave me various perspectives on sex: 1) if you're an adult, you should get into it responsibly, hence never view sex as something for pleasure; and 2) if you're 16, you shouldn't ever go into it. But no matter how old you are when (and if) you do, there's something that you couldn't escape—the possibility of getting pregnant (if you're a girl), or getting a girl pregnant (if you're a boy).

With all the hoopla about the RH Bill, I believe that this eventuality when 2 people have sex should be the main consideration. Intentionally avoiding pregnancy is the issue. And so is having sex just because it's fun. And the ultimate issue of all: having sex if a couple isn't married. Gone are the days when sin is called as it is. Nowadays, having sex outside of marriage is called “having an experience”. And human rights included being pro-choice instead of being pro-life. And getting an abortion is just like walking into a convenience store and saying, “Hello. I'd like to get decent abortion, please.” (Is there even such a thing as a decent abortion?)

We are in the world, that much is true. This is where we live, and breathe, and do business in. But must we be of the world? St. Paul warned us against our minds being conformed to the world. But tonight, a 16-year-old girl reminded me of that warning. Thank you, Juno, for showing me the realities and taking my mind away from fantasies. You just stopped me from screwing myself.

A Sucker for Love

2010-10-16T14:10:00.000+08:00

I love watching love stories. What can I do? I am a girl! Tonight, I saw Sense & Sensibility. I never read the book, but I've seen the film a few times. And every time I do, I sigh. And ask—is love really the only thing a girl ever thinks of?

Don't get me wrong, I don't mean to sound so cynical. But we're talking about Jane Austen here, and like Pride & Prejudice, Sense & Sensibility packs everything there is about love and romance and women being married off by their parents to worthy bachelors.

I love it how the film translates Austen's experience of bliss into the living-happily-ever-after, amidst material wealth or disinheritance. I feel for every female character in the film, and just watching them makes me want to desire what they desire. Plus, of course, the etiquette surrounding the period where the story is set—it just adds to the heightening of one's emotions!

But if you really think about it, isn't that the proper way for a lady and a gentleman caller to behave—with prudence? Call me old school, but I really do not believe that propriety is outdated. Didn't scripture say that a gentle and quiet spirit is pleasing to God (1 Peter 3:4)?

Then there's one YouTube video I just saw recently. It's called Struck. There's this guy drinking coffee and about to cross the street when WHAM! He saw a pretty, tall, blonde woman walking... and then it hit him. As in a arrow hit him, spot on the chest where his heart is supposed to be. And all through 5 minutes of the film, he wears his arrow around. Until he spots her again. And so, for the next minute onwards, she helps him get the arrow out, they kiss (background music: Somewhere Over the Rainbow by Israel "IZ" Kamakawiwoʻole), and then this burly “Cupid” appears, looks at the kissing couple and leaves smiling (music fades out, credits roll). On to the next couple!

It is so easy for women (and men) to fall in love with love. Our heads are constantly being rammed with the idea of falling in- or being head over heels in- or falling out of—love. Makes a person want to believe that love is something dangerous, something that can severely hurt you or even kill.

But then again, we know it's not. We read from the Bible what love truly is. We see 1 Corinthians 13:4-8 everywhere—greeting cards, bookmarks, shirts, coffee mugs, bumper stickers and even billboards. We talk about love in prayer meetings, on Facebook and Twitter, in conferences. We hear about it from pastoral leaders, counselors, mentors. But still, single people (even me!) fall into the trap.

Why? Maybe because of physiology. Or psychology. Because it's there, deeply woven into our physical, physiological and psychological make up. The Creator and Author of life Himself programmed love into our very core. But must we fall prey to love? No, let me rephrase that—must we fall prey to the emotions that surface when we love?

That is why I love the heroine Elinor in Sense & Sensibility. The book described her this way: “She was stronger alone; and her own good sense so well supported her, that her firmness was as unshaken, her appearance of cheerfulness as invariable, as, with regrets so poignant and so fresh, it was possible for them to be.” She was always the level-headed one, the stronger one, the one who puts her head above her heart. Why else would she say, “Sense will always have attractions for me.”?

Today, finding love may still be the primary thing preoccupying a single person's mind. But having some sense and sensibility while searching and discerning ought to keep us from falling in, out or head over heels.

Disturb Us, Lord

2010-09-25T14:53:00.000+08:00

When a friend asked me to make a lifestyle blog, I was like, "Uh, so what should I write about?" I mean, lifestyle is such a broad subject, with different people living such a diversity of it. To each his own, that is what I believe in. No, wait! That WAS what I believed in.

Why WAS? Well, let's just say I didn't know any better then. Not that I know much now. Nor am I better than anybody else. In fact, I have lots and lots to learn. And it's not about what I know, but Who I know. So in this blog, I will just try to share everything I learned from my Mentor and Teacher. It took 10 years of knowing Him to learn these lessons, and I pray that you, dear readers, could pick up a few here and there.

I just want to make a few disclaimers, though. First, these are MY lessons. They may or may not apply to you. But here's hoping some of you will say, "Oh, that's exactly where I am right now!" Next, my experiences may or may not have anything to do with you. But, there might be a friend or someone in your family who is going through the same. So feel free to share my blog with them. (Haha! Any chance to promote!)

Okay, seriously, what should I write about? When I was writing for a lifestyle magazine, my EIC left me with this snippet of wisdom: "In the publishing business, only three things sell: relationships, money and sex!" Being the newest kid on the writer's block, I was disturbed, especially with the last word. When I transferred to a more "wholesome" publication, I discovered that the same rule applies. So here in my blog, I will also write about those three subjects. But from a perspective that will hopefully not traumatize anyone. My writing may disturb you, but I pray it would be one of holy disturbance, a disturbance that would move you to do something that could make a positive impact, whether in your life or someone else's.

And with that, just allow me to share with you a poem/ prayer by Sir Francis Drake.

Disturb Us, Lord

- Attributed to Sir Francis Drake

Disturb us, Lord, when

We are too well pleased with ourselves,

When our dreams have come true

Because we have dreamed too little,

When we arrived safely

Because we sailed too close to the shore.

Disturb us, Lord, when

With the abundance of things we possess

We have lost our thirst

For the waters of life;

Having fallen in love with life,

We have ceased to dream of eternity

And in our efforts to build a new earth,

We have allowed our vision

Of the new Heaven to dim.

Disturb us, Lord, to dare more boldly,

To venture on wider seas

Where storms will show your mastery;

Where losing sight of land,

We shall find the stars.

We ask You to push back

The horizons of our hopes;

And to push into the future

In strength, courage, hope, and love.