Sparkle Me.

I love my life.

noreply@blogger.com (vanessa) — Sun, 28 Jun 2009 01:37:00 +0000

Song of the Moment: Orange Sky by Alexi Murdoch

Years from now, I am going to look back at this post and find strength in this moment.

I love my life. There is really no denying the simplicity of this truth.

I love myself, for all my limitations and countless capabilities. I love my family, for being bits and pieces of who I turned out to be. I love Enzo for being my reason for being, my confidante, my protector and my forever. I love my friends, for being my source of laughter, motivation and perspective. I love my work that challenges me and pushes me to have a vision for the future, and of course, without which I can not sustain a comfortable lifestyle. I love my body, and how it makes me feel beautiful. I love my country, from which I draw my own individual quirks from its collective history and culture.

I love my silence. I love my humanity. I love who I am and everything else that surrounds who I am. And most of all, I love my God for giving me what I denied for the longest time as something I deserved.

The Second Quarter

noreply@blogger.com (vanessa) — Sun, 03 May 2009 00:32:00 +0000

Song of the Moment: Signs by Bloc Party

Last night, I was chatting with a friend and I caught myself saying these words:

"you're turning 25.. don't you remember what we thought of 25-year-old people before when we were younger? we're supposed to be more independent than we allow ourselves to be. that's why i want to move out too, even if it's a bit impractical.. i think it's going to make me a better person, and that's more important to me."

That was 12:28AM. It's 8:34AM right now. And I'm staring at the screen, wondering what alien form took over my body last night. Hehehe. :)

But seriously, there's something different in the air now. And I like it. :)

Zazen

noreply@blogger.com (vanessa) — Sun, 29 Mar 2009 11:48:00 +0000

Song of the Moment: Silence

They say you shouldn’t read or write about Zen lest you fall into the trap of grasping it intellectually and superficially. I will write for writing’s sake.

I attended my 8th and last orientation Sunday for Zen. There were no bells and whistles. Nothing dramatically different happened. There were no exaltations or festivities. There was only silence.

I decided to get into Zen because I wanted the following:

I wanted to be more focused.
I wanted to remain grounded and not get lost in the hustle-bustle of life.
I wanted to bring out the true creativity that can only come from unadulterated humanity.

But after several weeks of practising Zen, I learned that not much has changed. I still get easily distracted in life. I still find myself stuck outside the creative process. I still get tired at the end of the day, tirelessly forcing sleep to an active mind. I still get angry, but with greater intensity. I still cry, but with less logic. I still feel. And maybe that’s all there is to it.

It’s not supposed to make sense, because I’m only at the start of something. I’m not supposed to have all the answers because I still have a restless heart. And maybe only death can bring forth the Truth that I seek. For now, it’s the process that matters. And so I will sit some more.

Just Needed a 'Lil Push

noreply@blogger.com (vanessa) — Thu, 19 Feb 2009 12:28:00 +0000

Song of the Moment: Shhhh by Frou Frou

Today was the fourth day of becoming.

For a considerable amount of time, I was absolutely beset with useless perceptions of incapacity. I don't know what happened to me during college, but I think I lost much of my confidence during those four years.

But I'm now at my fourth day. In graduate school. And I feel different.

I used to actually look down on people who always seem to reinvent themselves, declaring the coming of change over and over and over again. But in this case, I'd like to think that my reinvention, albeit the nth time, is actually part of a continuous process... and perhaps it'll take me several moments of enlightenment to reinvent myself in this lifetime. This might be one of those moments for me. I have a good feeling that this is the start of another swing of changes. I'll be a better version of myself after this. :)

A Life of Contrast

noreply@blogger.com (vanessa) — Sun, 15 Feb 2009 01:23:00 +0000

Duck Confit. And All Things Lavish. (In-Yo)

Song of the Moment: Chasing Pavements by Adele

Last wednesday, I saw what it meant to be a middle-class girl.

I went to Cabuyao, Laguna to attend a meeting at the plant. We reached lunch hour and decided to eat at an informal dining area (aka turo-turo), as it was the only available eatery around the area. A few minutes before reaching the eatery, I received a call.

"Vanessa! Where are you?"

"Hi tito, I'm at Laguna right now."

"Oh, can you join us for lunch? We have a lunch at 1pm for Dignitary V's birthday, here at the house. Dignitary G and Dignitary E will be having lunch here. La Tosca will be catering too."

"Ohhh.. uhm, thank you very much for the invitation, tito. But I don't think I can make it back in time."

"Oh okay, well, maybe next time, ok? I just wanted to invite you."

"Thank you po."

In my head, I imagined two scenarios taking place at the same time. These two events were simultaneously occurring within the circles I move around in. One involved a simple lunch of adobo on plastic green plates, in a make-shift dining area, coupled with the blaring sounds of a television tuned into EAT BULAGA. The other involved a lavish Spanish-Filipino setting of Lechon de Leche and Duck Rolls on expensive chinaware, in an air-conditioned dining area adorned with beautiful floral centerpieces and crisp white table sheets, coupled with the ambient music of a live quartet performance.

And I was literally left at awe in the middle of it all.

Love at Sunrise, Love at Sunset

noreply@blogger.com (vanessa) — Tue, 10 Feb 2009 10:04:00 +0000

Song of the Moment: Breakdown by Deerheart

6:45am. I woke up this morning just in time to watch a good friend being featured on Umagang Kay Ganda’s Valentine Episode. My friend has been with his girlfriend for 5-6 years. She now works in Shanghai, while he works in Manila. They both fly in and out of Manila frequently just to be with each other. One day, she flies in from Shanghai and noticed something unusual. Huge signs were plastered all over NAIA 1, with messages of endearment for someone. “I don’t know most of you, but I know someone on this plane...” A long red ribbon followed the passengers’ path from the airplane tube to immigration. “...I can’t wait to be with her for the rest of my life.” She thought nothing of this of course, until after she crossed immigration. A line of airport staff greeted her with huge, knowing smiles, and she was just puzzled. The human barricade parted in the middle to reveal my good friend, on one knee, carrying a small box and a dazzling engagement ring. “Will you marry me?” Yes. He had to propose in the most ostentatious way he knew. And there is no way anyone could say no to that.

10:30am. I was working on some materials for our company’s job openings, when my dad starts opening up to me. He starts explaining to me, that if E and I are very serious about our relationship, then it is very important for us to really sit down and talk about who we really are, what annoys us, what makes us happy, what our dreams are and how we’ll get there together without compromising our individuality. I appreciate it when my dad talks to me about these things, so I listened intently. But at the end, he wasn’t just giving parental advice to her “last daughter” but more so, he wanted to air out all his frustrations and thoughts on surviving a 30-year marriage. As I listened to his stories, I began to realize more and more how much effort is involved in marriage. Ambition. Competition. Self-Interest. Selflessness. Communication. Silence. Fears. Joy. Heartbreak. Bliss. Anger. Regret. Commitment. Loneliness. Conflict. Love. Money. Love and Money. Faith. Appreciation. Gratitude. Understanding. Acceptance. His final statement was, “At the end of the day, you just have to learn to accept things you can never change.”

Today, I was moved by two stories of love. One is just beginning a life of love, and the other is already counting lessons from decades of choosing to love. So today, I’m acknowledging two inclinations. There’s a part of me that’s excited about starting a new life with another; there’s also a part of me that cautions about the kind of commitment marriage involves.

Admittedly, just like any other girl in her mid-20s, I do get a bit jealous every time I hear about another batch mate getting engaged or married. And mind you, they’re a LOT. I can’t help but feel that I've been outdone. Perhaps this discomfort has something to do with having a distorted concept of competitive maturity. That maybe I’ve led myself to believe that I’m supposed to mature faster than they could. But really, how can I possibly gauge something as abstract as maturity?

On the other hand, every time I listen to my dad speak about his marriage to my mom, I always end up thinking about what his experiences might mean to me. When he speaks about marital conflicts that can’t seem to be resolved, I no longer feel pain over the reality that my parents, after all these years, may not be compatible after all. If I were in my teens and my dad told me all these things, I’d probably jump off the next window I could find. But this time, it’s different. Instead of feeling resentment, I end up respecting my dad and my mom even more. They’re human, like you and me. And their love was never perfect. Their love was never blissful. But it was love nonetheless. And it has lasted through decades of friction and harmony. We, young lovers, may complain about the littlest things, argue about the most petty issues. But here’s a couple that has lasted through years of deep misunderstanding with wounds that are just too deep to heal. I can’t even begin to imagine how difficult that is.

In four days, the world will find an excuse to celebrate love. Love is an overused theme indeed, but it is one of the most elusive topics known to man. We always ask what true love means. Is it defined by the level of grandeur, as in declaring one’s love in public? Or is it best manifested in a silent sense of comfort and understanding? Does it have an age requirement, a +5/-2 age compatibility? Does it have a religious undertone, that one has to be of the same faith? Does it have a gender preference, or can we ever accept two women who claim they are in love? Can one claim to be truly in love after just a few weeks of companionship? Or is there a specific time period for one to truly be ready to love the other completely? Can we ever learn to love strong enough to last a lifetime? I don’t know the correct answers to these questions. There are no correct answers, just as much as there are no wrong ones. As far as I know, you just love. In the best way you know how.

Happy Valentine’s Day, everyone.

By the way, here’s “Breakdown” by Deerheart, one of the saddest songs I know. It talks about people who may love each other now but change over time:

I saw you. You saw me.
That's when I needed you. You needed me.
I kissed you. You kissed me.
And thought, forever, yeah, we'd always be.

Well I like you. You like me.
Seems that we fit so perfectly.
You make me feel worthy.
And I've let you take care of me.

(Chorus)
Ohhh.
Were alright now,
Gonna break down the breakdown.
Move from where we stand,
See what we don't want to see.

I love you. You love me.
Oh but lately, something’s wearing on me.
I've been growing.
I've been changing.
And seems like you're barely moving.

(Chorus)
There is nothing we can do to get past this.
Nothing you could say.
Baby please don't fret.
Our time has moved passed us.

I love you.
You love me.
Is it possible we love differently?
You need me, but I need to
Feel strong, baby, without you.

Testing the Virtuous

noreply@blogger.com (vanessa) — Sun, 08 Feb 2009 11:50:00 +0000

Song of the Moment: The Golden Floor by Snow Patrol

12mn. It was the day after the 2004 elections. I was driving to Ateneo to take the midnight shift for NAMFREL QC's Quick Count. Obviously, not a lot of people wanted to take that shift. It was inconvenient. You'd have to take extra cups of coffee. You'd have to be more vigilant because the early morning hours can play tricks on you and your ability to decipher the canvassing sheets. You'd have to go to school in the middle of the month of May, which to most is a travesty of the concept of vacation. But I decided to sign up for it anyway. Because I was feeling nationalistic. This is my chance to concretely contribute to social development and Philippine governance.

I was about to take a turn into Shaw Blvd. from Rodriguez Street in Mandaluyong City. I was steadily inching up the road just outside the Archbishop's Palace. And between feeling nationalistic at midnight and making the sign of the cross next to the revered Archbishop's chapel, I witnessed a crime.

A man, armed with a pocket knife, was pulling a young woman's shoulder bag. The woman was screaming, "Magnanakaw!" But the man was swifter than the wind. He was running down the street; the woman was running after him. He hailed a jeepney, and in a few seconds, one jeep stopped in front of him.

And I was right there, frozen in fear and indecision. I imagined myself positioning my vehicle just a few meters forward, enough to block the jeep from getting away. I imagined myself alighting my car, and calling attention to the man who stole the bag. I imagined myself looking straight into the jeep's glaring headlights long enough to give the woman just enough time to catch up with the man, identify him as a criminal and allow the jeep's passengers to act on the crime as well.

I imagined all these in a few crucial seconds....

...and then I watched the jeep speed off.

I went on my not-so-merry way, disturbed beyond explanation. I am supposed to be a religious, nationalistic woman. I believed I was actively virtuous --- someone who knew how to persecute wrongdoing and acknowledge righteousness given any situation. But in this case, my righteousness remained a thought process.

To make matters worse, after driving a good 500meters down Shaw Boulevard, I saw a police station right by the side of the road. I hesitated a bit, wondered if I should report what I saw. But I still didn't stop.

At that point, tears started to streak my cheeks. I felt so guilty, so small, so unworthy. Here I was, claiming to be a person of virtue by volunteering for the cause of nationalism and making a gesture of religious significance --- but I failed the test. Because it was inconvenient and my safety could have been jeopardized, I chose to turn a blind eye. Where it involved clear and present danger, I wasn't so virtuous after all.

This afternoon, coming from my Zen Meditation class, I drove past that very same street. In a split second, I vividly remembered the events of that night. And although I can't find a direct link between this sudden purging and this afternoon's Zen session, I'm glad that I found the heart to write about it now. I want to forgive myself for not being a hero that night. I want to comfort my guilty old self and tell her that it's okay and that perhaps, next time, I can find a more suitable situation to be more decisive in exercising integrity. And if anything, I can make up for the lost opportunity in other ways.

There are memories we choose to hold on to, even if doing so will just make our baggage heavier than it should be. There are memories that we tried so hard to conceal but will find itself surfacing at the most inopportune time. So, there are memories that just have to be taken as a necessary evil, in order for something to be learned. There are memories of mistakes made that become correct decisions after all over time. There are memories that give us a fresh perspective on who we actually are, a window into the self we never knew we were. And then there are memories that are just meant to be forgiven, not forgotten, in order for one to carry on living in an endless cycle of pitfalls and recoveries.

The month that was... January.

noreply@blogger.com (vanessa) — Sat, 07 Feb 2009 01:21:00 +0000

Song of the Moment: Grand Opening by Will Dailey

After writing my 2008 round-up, I quickly realized that I let certain months pass without much activity. Needless to say, I was a bit disappointed with myself. I mean, come on. I’m twenty-five. I’m young. I’m not yet married. I’m financially free. Now is the best time to do the many things I never thought I could do.

Looking back at 2008, I sincerely wanted to boast of a specific achievement per month, to say that I didn’t put the twelve months to waste. The 2008 Round-up wasn’t at par with how I envisioned 2008 to be. Thus, I promised myself that I would consciously make each month more memorable --- more dynamic --- by forcing myself to list exceptional things done or experienced or participated in during the month. I’m not really sure how long this little experiment will last, but for now, I’m glad I lived up to my expectations for the month of January.

Two new contracts for TAWI: La Farge and Asia Cargo Container Terminals. Shifting to a new product in TAWI really boosted our confidence in sales activities, but surprisingly, the contracts we closed for January were not for the new products. They were customized, as we have always intended to sell, and it was a blessing to have discovered these clients when we thought the industry was ailing. I’d like to credit part of it to luck, and it was just a matter of taking advantage of opportunities while they’re there.
First EasyHomes Client: Acer Homes. The management team rejoiced, opened a bottle of red wine and took posterity photos after the first contract for EasyHomes was signed. The company has been struggling with self-esteem issues and looooong sessions of product development; we’re not really sure how the market will react to the product. But at the end, the project went full swing and we’re finally at war.
Zen Meditation. I’ve been wanting to practice meditation since I took Jim Paredes’ creativity class. Back then, I felt the need to find an activity that will ground me and bring me back to my center amidst the hustle-bustle of life. At the start of the year, I did just that. I went out and finally took the Glimpse course. I wanted to do it for several reasons: to be more focused, to have peace of mind, to be more resilient and ultimately, to harness my lost creativity by allowing my mind to be more powerful. I’m eager to attend the next sessions (this February); I know this will help me get through the day to day.
First Batch General Assembly at Starbucks Silver City. It was nice to see familiar faces, and have the chance to get more feedback from people regarding the batch reunion. It was a rough start, but at least we’re getting somewhere. I can't wait for the reunion to come to fruition in its full awesome glory.
Turned 25! Woah. My sensibilities plummeted to grave realizations --- I actually felt old that day. But no worries. I’d like to think that having turned 25 years is a good excuse.. erm, cue to be the best version of myself, now that I’m becoming more and more unbridled. I really feel like I’m at the best stage of my life. :)

I’m very happy with how January turned out. It was productive enough without having to sacrifice my need to socialize. I was able to achieve a good balance between work and play. Yay!

Here’s to hoping more months like this will unfold.

The Table Napkin Wager

noreply@blogger.com (vanessa) — Sat, 24 Jan 2009 03:13:00 +0000

Song of the Moment: Mausam and Escape by A.R. Rahman (Slumdog Millionaire OST)

Some random evening in 2008, the girls were at Dome Cafe in Shangri-La, sipping coffee and tea and eating stale, free cake from Cravings. It could have been a typical get together, but something came to fruition that night.

It was the evening of the table napkin wager.

You know you're getting older when the topics you talk about over meals become more, well, mature. In our case, we noticed that our discussions gradually grew up from "which college will I get into?" to "I'm taking up BS Extracurriculars with a Minor in Management/Economics" to "what company should I work for?" and now, "who'll get married or get pregnant first?" And so began the humor behind the table napkin.

We took an unassuming sheet of Dome table napkin and scribbled down our speculations for the race to adulthood. It was simple. We each put our money on a person in the group who would most likely:

a) Get married first. (Excluding the one person who already got married in the US)

b) Get pregnant first.

We had every person sign off her stake and are now still awaiting results. The buy-in wasn't too big though, at PhP100 per person, but it was fun to actually gamble on something and pretend that the total pot was enough to finance that person's bridal shower or baby shower.

Since then, there have been playful banters of "My money's still on you!" as if PhP100 will amount to much these days.

As the months passed and the table napkin remains unscarred in my wallet, more and more people from our circles got pregnant, got hitched, started a family. I can name so many high school batchmates whom I've discovered in shock as ladies who apparently have a higher propensity to settle down than any one of us in the barkada. They used to be the most rowdy ones, the most playful ones, the rather "tomboy-ish" ones, the wild children, and even the quiet ones. And now they're starting a family faster than I can say "I think I'm ready to take the next step." As it has been seen the past months, there isn't a clear winner among the contenders of the table napkin yet. (It's true, Rina! Hehehe.) And my lingering question is: "What makes one truly ready to move on?"

2009 is at hand. This same group of jocular (but secretly desperate!) girls decided to push each other to personal objectives of every kind, with the predominant goal "Have a love life this year." I feel lucky enough that I have one to begin with, and I'm truly overjoyed with what I have. But am I really ready to take that next step? Is it the right time? There are still some questions that I have yet to ask, and answer.

I'm writing this as I near my 25th birthday. Imagine that. I've been walking this earth for 25 years. I've stopped calling it a quarter-life crisis, because it's a little over one fourth of my intended life already. But there are still introspective questions... there will always be questions. I may be beginning to imagine a more definite life, with definite long-term goals and a definite person holding my hand. But as far as I'm concerned, things can still change this year.

For now, I think I'll sit back and watch one Facebook status after another change from single to engaged/married, wondering if I can muster enough guts to go beyond the lip service and actually take that plunge....

we like to spice it up like that...

noreply@blogger.com (vanessa) — Thu, 15 Jan 2009 00:34:00 +0000

Song of the Moment: Your Heart is An Empty Room by Death Cab for Cutie

The other day over breakfast, my dad suddenly addressed me and said, "Well, if he's really the one already, you have to show him who you really are --- both good and bad qualities." I wasn't expecting him to say something off-topic like that, but I gladly took it in and muttered, almost inaudibly, "I happen to think I'm at my most candid self around him."

Well, it's true.

I think he has seen me at my worst state. In fact, we started out with him pulling me up from bouts of self-pity. He knows I'm still nursing from a few self-esteem issues, so he's firm but reasonable about sudden urges to regress to past habits. He knows I'm anal about my expenditures, and he's been teaching me to loosen up a bit. He knows that I don't remember ever having a childhood, so he's throwing toys and video games at me in an effort to salvage the lost child within. He knows and can relate to perennial family business drama, because he's in one as well (and not a lot of people can offer that perspective). The start of 2009 means we're nearing the 3-year mark, and looking back, I'm proud to say that there hasn't been a single problem that wasn't addressed through diplomatic communication. We're doing very well... so well, that a lot of people might say we're boring. YAWN.

But hey, we're not "serious" all the time. In fact, a great amount of time we spend together involves silly banters, warm hugs and lighthearted laughter. I don't think I've had so much fun with anyone else! We've managed to keep things very interesting by doing the following:

1. We've spent time with each other's families in Manila and out of town.

2. We've played video games together. (Well, I tried... although every time there's a difficult level, I hand over the controller to him.)

3. We're taking Zen Meditation together.

4. We played single and picked up each other at the bar. (This failed after less than a minute, cuz I couldn't contain my laughter! Hahaha!)

5. We took a history walking tour together.

6. We braved orc fests together.

7. We dressed up like silly and spent on expensive dinners, even if the occasion was only "because we felt like it."

8. We had food delivered to his house from TWO restaurants because we couldn't decide what to eat, and then ate everything the entire afternoon.

9. We've brushed our teeth beside each other, and talked with our mouths filled with foam.

10. We ordered an entire cake and ate it together, before even having dinner.

11. We go yogging together.

12. We attempted to play badminton together.

13. We love to swim (more like wade) together in the pool or by the beach.

14. We watched a Tagalog R-18 movie (and we almost put paper bags over our heads). I forgot the title, but Maui Taylor and Baron Geisler were there.

15. We played lasertag as soon as we found out that LazerExtreme opened.

16. We've gone go karting at Fort Bonifacio together.

17. We've gone shopping together.

18. We've done grocery shopping together.

19. We've watched plays and movies and concerts.

20. We've shared numerous songs, movies, information and other interesting downloads from the internet. Go figure. Hehehe.

It makes me so happy just remembering the many months, years we've spent with each other. And to imagine a lifetime of doing so much more gives me something to look forward to, something to hold on to, and something worth waking up to every morning of my life.

Breather.

noreply@blogger.com (vanessa) — Fri, 09 Jan 2009 04:33:00 +0000

Song of the Moment: Reverie by Debussy

It's one of those weeks again. I'm missing my running/swimming targets in exchange for evening rest from incredibly long, hard... days. Hehe. Montalban, Rizal on Monday. Cabuyao, Laguna on Tuesday. Meycauayan and Cabuyao, Laguna on Wednesday (Ack! Opposite ends of GMA!). Mexico, Pampanga on Thursday. Muntinlupa City and Cabuyao, Laguna on Friday. I swear, these gasoline companies are making so much money from people like me.

I like the feeling of being busy, actually. It's a masochistic assurance that I'm productive. I like driving long roads and then pulling over because you have to urgently take a call or reply to a text message. It's like you're actually of consequence to the company you work for. (Tsk tsk. I don't normally pull over by the way. And my phone's on touch screen! Danger!)

But I know there are health risks to this kind of lifestyle. That's why I committed to very rigorous targets in terms of physical activity. And I started listening to more soothing (aka Classical) music on the road so I don't get stressed by traffic congestion. And I'm gonna attend the Glimpse to Zen on Sunday, because I want to learn and master high-level meditation practices.

I need breathers like this.

So 2009 is at hand. I'm cooking up so many things in the kitchen. But the few times I can, I think I will take time to just pause and feel the present. I'm glad I'm right here, right now. I wouldn't want it any other way. :)

The 2008 Round-up

noreply@blogger.com (vanessa) — Sun, 28 Dec 2008 13:56:00 +0000

Song of the Moment: Take Me to the Riot by Stars

I just got home from another Christmas tradition for the family --- Christmas abroad. It is a tradition I cannot to continue with my family (initially I think?) because of the financial requirement, so I'm taking advantage of every opportunity I get to be a global trotter while I'm still single. So I'd like to particularly thank my parents for every chance they gave me to travel --- that I may experience global sensibilities, cultures and histories beyond what a normal person would experience.

But aren't we all travelers just the same?

I remember when I graduated from Grade 7, I gave the welcome speech slash salutatory speech. I started with this sentence: "I am traveler with an undetermined itinerary to success, armed with nothing but a mind to think, a heart to love and hands to reach out."

And... wow. My BS made me sound like a wise, mature little girl. Which I'm actually still getting used to for the past 10 years. I cannot claim to be wise enough or mature enough yet, but I'm getting there every day, an inch at a time. :)

Anyway, we are all travelers on our own right. We may not have stamps on our passports, or we may not even have passports to begin with, but we are all on a steady course to experience the world like we've never thought we could.

This year, for me, was no exception. And after that long introduction, allow me to do a round-up of the year that was for me, in true year-end blogging fashion. But before that, to put everything in perspective, at the start of 2008, I told myself that the theme for the year for me would be FEARLESSNESS. Now that's said, you be the judge if I achieved it or not:

January: Event Organizer for Ate Abby's Insane Cebu Wedding (No, I don't think I will have a destination wedding after that experience).
February: Flew to Bacolod for the Victoria's account, almost clinched the deal; Flew to Davao alone for Del Monte and Pepsi accounts. Valentine's Day at Apt 1B.
March: Holy Thursday around Tarlac, Bulacan and Pampanga (first time we stayed home in ages); Good Friday at San Rafael, Bulacan with the Lebron Family.
April: Sales Caravan - Destination: Bulacan & Pampanga.
May: Boracay with Bugsy; Ad-Hoc CFO while Parents are in Sanya & Macau; First 2008 Investment; Punta Fuego with the boys and the Lebron Family; Birthday video surprise for Enzo.
June: Tagaytay Road Trip with Bugsy and Enzo; Bought my Black MacBook; Family Constitution Retreat.
July: Took a pranic healing class; Ad-Hoc CFO while Parents are in Boracay; Second 2008 Investment.
August: The one-week hiatus with the flu.
September: Crazy Oktoberfest; Ad-Hoc CFO while Parents are in Russia; 2nd Year Anniversary; Third 2008 Investment; Flew to Cebu alone for the SHDA Conference.
October: Started running and swimming again; The great solo SEA Trip: Singapore, Malaysia, Vietnam; Closed Philip Morris contract; Monching & Weeya's Wedding. Initial EasyHomes clients.
November: The great solo SEA Trip: Cambodia, Thailand, Hong Kong & Macau; EasyHomes launch; Tagaytay Overnight with Bugsy; Progressive swimming and running.
December: First PO for EasyHomes; Closed Fast Logistics contract; The challenging board decision; First climb up the Quezon property; Family flies to Beijing, Shanghai and Hong Kong.

Next year ulit? Bring it on. :)

Entry 15: Curtain Closing with Friends

noreply@blogger.com (vanessa) — Sun, 09 Nov 2008 11:30:00 +0000

Song of the Moment: The Kindness of Strangers by American Analog Set

Hong Kong was the perfect destination to cap off my 14-day trip.

For the most part, I was all over the the city, hopping from one train station to another, looking for last minute pasalubong. But during the evenings that mattered, I got to spend time with Crisel, Mabs (a new friend) and even their church friends, Ate Jigs and Kuya Jeff. My favorite part of the trip was receiving an impromptu dinner invitation from Ate Jigs and Kuya Jeff at their place, where we were served Filipino soul food --- good home-cooked meals.

It was good to be with friends who are just sincerely wonderful happy people. They’re quite a rare couple to find, mind you. Ate Jigs and Kuya Jeff are very pious, then add Crisel and Mabs in the picture, that made for a very religious dinner party. I suddenly felt empowered by the positive energy these people were emitting.

We talked about various things --- from the couple’s providential love story, to finding their ministry in the Church, to showing off their dog Lulu’s tricks, up to defining what Prudence really means. Later that night, Crisel and I got to talk about our lives as well, as how two old friends normally do. Of course, I won’t go into details, in confidence. But I found that so many of Crisel’s realizations and our discourse across everything powerfully affect my own life’s issues. It made sense to spend the night at her flat instead of booking a HK hotel after all.

There are so many wonderful discoveries I made about myself during the trip --- the one thing worth mentioning would be fearlessness. I think the primary reason I jumped into this adventure was to overcome many fears and insecurities, and I am proud to say that I was able to take the bull by the horns. It was a fun ride, while it lasted. And now I’m flying back to Manila to put this new perspective to the test.

So I’m signing off for now, but that doesn’t mean the stories will cease. A whole life is still ahead of me and I’m excited about it more than ever. Tetel was right after all, “This trip will resuscitate me back to my fully motivated self.” And now that I’m waking up from a two-week dream, I am ready to face the everyday grind again with rose-colored glasses.

Entry 14: The Sin City of the East

noreply@blogger.com (vanessa) — Sun, 09 Nov 2008 11:01:00 +0000

Song of the Moment: Strict Machine by Goldfrapp

After doing all things childlike in Disney, I found myself boarding a ferry boat the next day to attempt to engage in all things of contrast. Welcome to Macau, the Sin City of the East.

Every time I read about Macau, it’s almost inevitable for people to compare it to Las Vegas. And with much merit, I must say. (read: The Venetian) But there’s a quaint side to Macau that I particularly enjoyed too, and would like to come back to, if I’m looking for a quick European-feel romantic fix on international territory.

My favorite experience in Macau was the Portuguese lunch at Boa Mesa, along Avenida de S.Domingo. Along that small street are several quaint Portuguese cafes that guarantee excellent Portuguese cuisine, cooked as if you’re really in the European country itself. I didn’t do much shopping, but it was just nice to roam around the small network of cobblestone streets that was once Portuguese territory in the far east. I said a short prayer in the Cathedral and was moved that there were Tagalog confessions available. I took photos of the old municipal hall, astonished at the well-preserved ceramic crème and blue tiles. I visited the Wine Museum, in sheer curiosity of the fact that an Asian city could say so much about wine production and ageing.

Oh but the crème de la crème of the brief trip was taking the free shuttle to the Venetian, in order to be overwhelmed by the vastness of the hotel. I think some people might find the hotel rather “public” for a 6-star establishment, but I suppose the hotel is also trying so hard to draw as much shoppers and gamblers, at the expense of exclusivity. (If you’re looking for exclusivity, I suggest you just check in at the Four Seasons.)

The Venetian in Macau is very similar to The Venetian in Las Vegas --- complete with an indoor canal, Venetian gondolas and ceilings painted like the clear blue skies in Italy. It was really spectacular. In addition, the wide array of shops screams “opulence” at its best. Versace, Gucci, Hugo Boss, Louis Vitton, etc. I even found a shop that sells JLo’s line of bags and shoes, as well as Paris Hilton’s bags and shoes (with designs that look so “her” by the way.)

Now the test for the ultimate Macau experience. To gamble.

But no. I just couldn’t. I guess it was really more of the lack of knowledge on table games that intimidated me enough to just leave me at the sidelines as a spectator. It was interesting though, how people spend hours and hours seated on those tables... Watching their net worth go down by the minute, if they’re not careful. I texted Enzo the same, saying, “I got so intimidated by it.” And he just goes, “Don’t worry. I’ll teach you next time.”

Oh Macau casinos. You shall have your day. Someday I will conquer you with my poker face and my high-yielding luck. For now, I need to practice counting cards. Hehehe.

Entry 13: Philosophizing Disneyland

noreply@blogger.com (vanessa) — Sun, 09 Nov 2008 10:41:00 +0000

Song of the Moment: Put On Your Sunday Clothes by Michael Crawford

Growing up, I didn’t really pull a “Make-A-Wish Foundation” moment when it came to going to Disneyland. I was very fortunate to have gone to several Disneyland parks: Disneyland (California), Disney World (Florida) and Tokyo Disney. But frankly, all my Disney visits were generally “adult experiences,” even though I was actually just a child then --- I found the rides too lame, got bored of walking under the sun, found the park too huge and redundant, realized that the parks all looked the same, mocked the rides especially It’s A Small World, or even used Disney for a juvenile courtship. Whatever the experience was, I wore “adult glasses” throughout each visit... Which was sad because a trip to Disney is supposed to be a magical experience, one for childlike wonder to prosper.

On my first day in Hong Kong, I spent the whole day in HK Disneyland, primarily because I wanted to watch Crisel perform her High School Musical performance (which is the very reason she’s based in HK now). As expected, she gave a spectacular show ---- a very strenuous-looking one at that. Imagine, she would be on a mobile float, prancing and dancing, huge smiles and everything, belting high notes under the heat of the 12nn sun. It was clearly not for the fainthearted. I’m so proud of her. I don’t think I can do what she’s doing. But with that said, I know she can because she’s really passionate about her craft.

But anyway, because she had to disappear for make-up and rehearsals, for the most part, I was walking around the park alone. I never thought doing so would move me in a way a child gets giddy over candy. I was overwhelmed by that simple childlike wonder I seem to have taken for granted for years. I sincerely went through a magical experience in Disneyland for the first time in my life --- and I am almost 25 years old!

I watched all the shows and sang along with all the songs.
I rode the Pooh Adventure and enjoyed Pooh’s little dilemma over his hunny.
I rode Buzz Lightyear’s Astro Blasters and used both laser guns to reach a meager space cadet status.
I screamed myself silly on the Space Mountain.
I played “Spot the Disney Character” on the It’s a Small World Ride.
I took all the photos I could take with the Disney characters roaming around the park.
I ate Mickey Mouse ice cream.

In short, I did what every child would do in Disneyland --- all with a sense of simple joy and awe. I wish I had spent all my other Disney visits with this kind of mindset. I thoroughly laughed to my heart’s content and enjoyed every minute I spent there. There really is something magical about the place.

I’m turning twenty-five years old in a little over two months. But visiting Disney reminded me that I need not lose the child in me, especially after brutally suppressing her all these years. If you look at the many messages Disney has taught us, they are very basic and important life lessons we take for granted in our lives. So listening to the child’s persona may not be so bad after all...

Look at the world beautifully.
The inner beauty is more important than exterior beauty or wealth.
We are born to fulfill our destiny to be great. And we must embrace our calling to do so.
Social norms should not hamper our ability to serve.
We need to be selfless to learn how to love and be loved.
Goodness will always prevail.
Nurture the child within.
Forgive yourself for past hurts and move on.
Respect our ancestors, our roots.
Be kind to others.

There are so many more lessons to mention, each one picked from a Disney animated film from my childhood. Sometimes being a child is not a manifestation of immaturity. Sometimes you need to bring out the child in you to survive through adulthood with flying colors.

Entry 12: Airport Reflection

noreply@blogger.com (vanessa) — Wed, 05 Nov 2008 13:32:00 +0000

Song of the Moment: This is For Keeps by The Spill Canvas

One of the best places I found conducive to reflection during my trip was the airport boarding area. For some reason, I tend to skip the duty-free shopping pilgrimage to the boarding area and head straight to a comfortable seat near my flight’s assigned gate. More often than not, I get to the gate to find all the seats still empty. Everything’s tranquil and simply perfect for another blog moment, with nothing but me and my music.

I’m one hour early from boarding again, on the 9th day of the trip of a lifetime, here at the Suvarnabhumi International Airport (Thailand). I’ve been to five different cities in a short span of time, and the feeling is so surreal. I’m down to my last two, Hong Kong and Macau, but I dunno if I’m ready to open my eyes from this dream just yet. I’m hesitant to make that effort to wake up to the humdrum slumber of work routine.

But there’s a part of me that longs for:

my dad’s corny jokes (scoffed at by JR or myself) and a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon with him;
my mom’s post-menopausal moodiness and her quiet, supportive embraces;
Enzo’s insanely warm hugs and soft kisses, coupled with hours and hours of wonderful conversations;
my brother’s kwento of yet another surprise foolery (like impulse-buying an X-Box) or some fascinating pop culture fact;
my lolo’s detachment and depression;
my strong women friends’ constant stories about career triumphs and failed blind dates;
a Filipino home-cooked meal;
a good run around Bonifacio High Street;
a relaxing swim at the Valle Verde Country Club;
the many emails and phone rings at work;
the endless client visits;
the quiet drive to and from Cabuyao, Laguna;
the senseless reality TV shows and talk shows on ETC and 2nd Avenue;
my hard bed and forgetting to turn off the light at night;
my vibrant Manila, and all things Filipino.

Oh here comes a moment of reverie.

There’s a flashback of memories playing in my head similar to some 1950s fast-forward silent film. See, in most days, it doesn’t feel like a lot has changed. But in the quiet moments such as this, something otherworldly (or inwardly) compels me to recall so many moments in the past. There were numerous euphoric victories and so many necessary heartaches and disappointments... ultimately, so many powerful life-changing experiences. I am so different from who I was before. I am no longer that mousy girl with bangs from years ago, who was so unsure and kept grasping for air in the dark. Now, more than ever, my life is all about deep love, commitment, ownership, accountability, gratitude, giving back, friendship, communication, power, peace, hope, creativity and being alive right now. My life is still uncertain, but I’m more prepared than ever to embrace uncertainty. I’m all grown up, and it feels so damn good to affirm that.

Barack Obama is the 44th President of the United States of America.

noreply@blogger.com (vanessa) — Wed, 05 Nov 2008 04:12:00 +0000

Song of the Moment: The Star-Spangled Banner

And now, a brief tribute to the 44th President of the United States of America.

As of 05-Nov-2008, 11:20PM DST (New York).

306 Obama - 155 McCain.

McCain speaks at Phoenix, Arizona and concedes. Barack Obama elected President.

Entry 11: So Sue Me!

noreply@blogger.com (vanessa) — Wed, 05 Nov 2008 02:54:00 +0000

Song of the Moment: Won't Go Away by Vertical Horizon

During my last night in Bangkok, I decided to spend the night in the hotel to thoughtfully pack my things. I got a text message from Ian/LOSCAM, asking if I wanted to go out with some of the girls from the office. I respectfully declined. I was in my antisocial mode (not to mention, I didn’t feel like spending more money in Bangkok).

At around 7PM, I realized that my last meal for the day was breakfast at 7AM. I haven’t eaten much since then (except for some fruits during the boat trip). My stomach was grumbling. I needed food.

So I walked to the nearby 24-hour grocery and sat on the counter of the mini restaurant. Hmmmm, what to eat tonight?

There was quite a comprehensive selection of Asian dishes. Fried Rice with Chicken, Pork or Beef. Tom Yum soup. Sukiyaki. Beef with Chilli. Chicken with Oyster Sauce and Basil Leaves. Etcetera.

And then there were the minority items: American Breakfast, Hamburger, Cheeseburger. They cost a bit more than most of the Asian dishes though, and I was running out of Baht (before my next FOREX).

I ordered a Hamburger. I couldn’t help it. So sue me.

Apparently, even if I am Asian and used to all things rice and noodles, I needed my American greasy fix too! I pointed to the Hamburger on my menu and a Pepsi; with the waitress’ nod, my order was underway. I waited anxiously for my all-meat meal, which I planned to eat heartily with my hands, in total averse of chopsticks.

It arrived, and I was ecstatic.

It didn’t take long for it to go from it’s full meaty glory to finger-lickin’ meat juices. It still tasted a bit Asian (I think there was something in the mayonnaise) but it hit the spot nonetheless. Aaaaah. Finally, something non-rice, non-noodle, non-spicy, non-chopsticks-ish.

I know you’ve been through it at some point during your travels. Sure, you have your moments of trying out the local cuisine. But when you’ve been out for so long, you can’t help but long for something familiar.

I guess this signals that I’m beginning to unconsciously long for home. Sigh.

Now, off to look for Italian food... I miss my pasta and pizza.

Entry 10: Bangkok has Two Faces.

noreply@blogger.com (vanessa) — Wed, 05 Nov 2008 02:54:00 +0000

Song of the Moment: April Fools by Rufus Wainwright

I could look at my Bangkok trip in two ways: “not my day” or “i got lucky.” And because I am in such a happy mood, I think I’d choose the latter.

Bangkok Dismay	Bangkok Delight
I had to inject a bit of work in my trip --- that is, I had to do a courtesy call at LOSCAM Thailand.	I got a free dinner at a fabulous seafood restaurant, got to meet with Sirin and Ian, and finally, got a free 2N stay at a posh serviced apartment with a view.
My hotel room sucked. It was in the middle of a very unsafe village (think Tondo) and the room looked like it was christened with Bangkok sleaze all over.	Sirin from LOSCAM Thailand generously offered me his free 2N stay at the Columns Residences, executive serviced apartments, right at the heart of Sukhumvit, Bangkok’s main financial district (something like Makati, teeming with expats all over).
I didn’t make the cut-off for the group tour to the Floating Village, and had to book a private tour that costs more.	I got to spend the day in full flexibility --- with my own driver, my own time and my way.
It rained, and I wasn’t able to see the temples nor the Grand Palace.	I didn’t get caught in the rain at any point. I can’t imagine what a disaster that would have been if I decided to go straight to the hotel after the Floating Village visit and wander off on my own that afternoon.
I went beyond my budget.	I got to do what I wanted, met a good Bangkok friend and paid a decent work pay to a struggling musician.
I was too lazy to go out with the LOSCAM girls to see the shows at Patpong (Silom Road).	I had enough rest in the evening, and really, I wasn’t in a sociable mood anyway.

I guess, as in life, it really is a matter of choosing how you will experience things. I could have easily labeled this leg of the trip as a failure, but as far as I’m concerned, I still got enough Bangkok to be one for the books.

Entry 9: On Higher Ground

noreply@blogger.com (vanessa) — Mon, 03 Nov 2008 02:50:00 +0000

Song of the Moment: Over the Pond by The Album Leaf

I told the driver that I wanted to cover as much ground as possible, and didn’t mind starting early. So at 6AM, I was already leaving the hotel to start my long awaited exploration of the mystical city of Siem Reap, Cambodia. I clearly made the right decision.

I visited a total of eight temples in just one day. The driver told me that people normally visit just TWO temples in one day. It’s either they’re too tired after two temples or they take so long to explore both. It didn’t take me so long to cover that many temples. But that doesn’t mean I wasn’t able to scale the temples as much as I wanted to. I actually did... Absorbing the statues’ or the wall carvings’ energy as much as I could. I was moved by the way the morning light hit the smiling statues of the Bayon Temple. I climbed through almost 4-storeys of steep stairs at the Angkor Thom Temple. I bought little trinkets from children at the Ka Teo and Chao Say Tevoda Temple. I marveled at the aged roots of trees growing out of the Ta Phrom Temple. I touched the woman carvings in pink stone at the Banteay Srei Temple. And I touched the Bas reliefs and felt the energy of the walls inside the Angkor Wat. What a truly spiritual experience it was.

I’m really glad that I was able to schedule my trip to Cambodia midway through my itinerary. It’s a good break from the cosmopolitan city lifestyle I’m generally used to. Plus, it was the perfect avenue to meditate on life and take in as much positive energy I could. There were moments when I found myself just sitting on the centuries-old rocks, closing my eyes, and imagining myself as part of the lost civilization. I told Enzo that I wouldn’t be surprised to know that I actually served in one of these temples in another life. (I particularly felt a strong connection with the Bayon Temple.) I would have believed it.

Cambodia is one place I’ll definitely return to in this lifetime. I know that seeing the temples will no longer bring about the same kind of excitement as it did with the first visit, but the next visit will be an experience of deeper proportions. In my heart, I know that visiting Cambodia will always elicit a feeling of coming home.

Entry 8: When in Vietnam, Do as the Vietnamese Do.

noreply@blogger.com (vanessa) — Sat, 01 Nov 2008 03:54:00 +0000

Song of the Moment: Shut Up and Drive by Rihanna

This morning, I realized I didn’t have much time to go around Ho Chi Minh because I have to check out by 12:30PM. That meant, I should not walk all the way to the Ben Thanh market because that will take off precious minutes from shopping time and add more minutes to “freshening up” time before check-out.

I walked a few meters from the hotel, hesitant to take a taxi because I was saving my Dong for the airport transfer. And then, as I approached the corner, a motorcycle taxi xe om driver called my attention, in some incomprehensible Vietnamese phrase.

It didn’t take me long to decide. Oh, what the heck.

I pointed to the Ben Thanh market on my map. The man nodded, and handed me the passenger helmet. “Safety first,” I thought... whatever kind of safety that can be assured from that lightweight, small helmet. It’s probably just psychological.

So I was whisked off, taking pictures while maintaining my balance on the seat behind the driver. The wind was blowing through my face. The moisture of the morning dew and the heat of the sun made the short commute surprisingly comfortable. It was good to be on the other side of the fence after all... to be part of the swarm of motorcycles declaring ownership of the streets of Ho Chi Minh.

So get out of the way, timid pedestrians. xe om passing through.

Entry 7: It's His Way of Saying, "Stop Being So Anal!"

noreply@blogger.com (vanessa) — Fri, 31 Oct 2008 13:28:00 +0000

Song of the Moment: No Letting Go by Wayne Wonder

Being the neat freak that I am, I was so elated to check in (even for one night) at a suite in Somerset. I have my own kitchen (which I won’t be able to use anyway), a microwave, a toaster... And a washing machine! Yahoo!

I was texting Enzo earlier, saying I was too lazy to go explore Ho Chi Minh and I wanted to just stay indoors for an hour or two. But the truth was, it wasn’t because I was too lazy or tired. It’s really because I got so excited over the washing machine, I decided to start washing all my dirty clothes! (Yeah, I know. Crazy girl. I ate lunch a bit late for that.)

If you can recall Entry 1, I talked about having a complete wardrobe plan. What is it, you ask? It’s basically a well-thought out matrix of bottoms+shirt pairing, to ensure there were no fashion repeats during the trip. (Which doesn’t really matter because I’m hardly on the photos.) I labeled articles of clothing as “Black Pants 1” or “Shirt 1.” So for example, on day 1, I wore Denims 1 with Shirt 1. Day 2 was Brown Pants 1 with Shirt 2. Etc. (Waaaiiitt... Don’t gasp just yet.) Included in the wardrobe plan were provisions for wash days --- like how I really planned to wash Bottoms 1 and Shirts 1 to 4 at Somerset, and wash other articles at Crisel’s apartment. It’s really unnecessary planning at its best, but I guess if you know me well enough, that’s just the way I am especially if I have no intervention from people who will contest on the basis of weirdness.

Anyway, back to the laundry.

I figured out the Whirlpool washer without much trouble. Snaps for me. And I was watching the clothes tumble and turn inside the washer... Oh therapy indeed.

Fast forward to post-drying. When I was taking out the clothes piece by piece, I had a big smirk on my face because they all smelled so good, and they were already dry! I had the ironing board ready, with the iron plugged and heated. *Hissss* Oh yes. That must mean my iron’s ready.

I pulled out Brown Pants 2, shook my head at the unsightly creases and started to iron it.

*Hissssss* NOOOOOOO!

I burned it. I can’t believe I burned one of my favorite brown pants, after all those years of successfully ironing silk to chiffon to cotton to denim. Apparently, that hissing sound wasn’t the natural sound of escaping steam from the iron. It meant that the iron was overheating. And it didn’t take two seconds to burn through my brown pants. My brown pants became unfittingly grunge with burn holes on the knees.

AAAAAAAHHHH!

What of the pairing plan for Brown Pants 2 next week? I’ll have to redo my wash day provisions too! Oh no! Oh no!

Hehehehe. Believe me, those things seriously went through my head the minute the burn happened. But then I stopped short, and started laughing to myself. What the heck. That’s one less article off my luggage weight. And this’ll be my gift to leave behind to beloved Ho Chi Minh.

So I’m letting go of my favorite brown pants. Just like that. I’ll leave it here in Ho Chi Minh, where someone might decide to use it in spite of the huge burns or cut it down to scrap fabrics for handicrafts.

Ladies and gentlemen, that was how Someone out there hit me in the head and said, “Stop being so anal!”

Entry 6: The Attack of the Swarm of Vs/Bs

noreply@blogger.com (vanessa) — Fri, 31 Oct 2008 12:43:00 +0000

Song of the Moment: Doomsday Clock by The Smashing Pumpkins

Vs as in Vespas. Or Bs as in Bicycles.

It’s funny how I was so excited to take photos of the swarm of motorcycles traversing the streets of Ho Chi Minh while I was on the taxi going to my hotel. But when I was already walking around and crossing the streets because I had to.. O.M.G. It’s a death wish waiting to be realized! These Motorcycles and Bicycles mercilessly speed through traffic, with seemingly no care for pedestrians. Seriously, you can die from getting run over by a V/B! But I trust LonelyPlanet.com with their claim:

“...crossing the street in Saigon can seem impossible to the uninitiated, but it's actually pretty simple. Don't bother waiting for a break in the traffic, just step out and walk at a steady pace. Try not to stop and never ever step back. Vietnamese motorists are used to all manner of random obstacles and are perfectly happy to go around pedestrians... after all, running you over is just too much paperwork.”

It’s rather difficult to communicate in English here too. You really have to speak very slowly, in very simple English... Otherwise, you get quizzical looks. I took the tour around the Reunification Palace today and this was a funny conversation between the tour guide and some British woman.

Tour Guide: “Sow at the beck of the recip room is two elephent tus... A gift to the President from the military shojo.”
British Woman: “I’m sorry. A gift from whom?”
Tour Guide: “From the shojo. Military. You know. Shojo.”
British Woman: *thinking hard* ehmmm.. Shojooo...
American Man, Overhearing the Conversation: “You mean, Soldier?”
Tour Guide: “Yes! Yes! Shojo. Military. Shojo.”
British Woman: Oh Soldier!

HAHAHAHA!

I also went to the War Remnants Museum and really, until I decide to go to Austria or Poland to see holocaust memorials, that has to be the most depressing tourist attraction I’ve ever been to . They weren’t really so GP about anything in the exhibits, meaning they didn’t care if they have little children visiting the site with their parents. You have photos of the mass murders, photos of body mutations due to Agent Orange and photos of tortured men with amputated limbs or deformed faces. They have such wonderful captions too, of actual statements from military generals being so damn proud of the violence they’re doing. Oh goody! Let’s not forget the replica of the Tiger Cages --- the worst kind of prison during the Vietnam War, complete with wax statues of battered, malnourished prisoners and a chamber with the actual guillotine used for torture! WOW! I’d go there again any day!

Not.

Anyway, I’m finally back at the hotel, resting up for the long day ahead. I’ll probably try riding the motorcycle taxi to the market tomorrow. Then, I’ll fly to Cambodia --- the destination I am most excited about.

So far, it’s been just the right mix of adventure and well-planned chaos. Really having the time of life. :)

Entry 5: "Gotcha Covered." --- Guardian Angel.

noreply@blogger.com (vanessa) — Fri, 31 Oct 2008 12:06:00 +0000

Song of the Moment: Angels and Spies by Thirteen Senses

Yet another proof that my guardian angel’s close by throughout the trip.

It was rather last minute, but I was able to set up a dinner with my sister’s friend, Andrew Goh. He’s a Malaysian of Chinese descent, and he also has a wooden pallet factory in Klang, Malaysia. (Don’t get me started on how we talked palletspeak through the night.) I joined him and his brother, together with their wives, for dinner at this excellent Chinese restaurant that surprisingly served NONE of the normal Chinese lauriat food items. We were served roast pork cuts, fish on a sizzling clay plate, sautéed asparagus tips, tofu with anchovies and king prawns in oyster sauce. (Where’s the sweet and sour pork? The steamed fish?)

But hey, that’s not my story.

I asked them “locals” for advise re: my dilemma. My flight to Ho Chi Minh the next day leaves 7:30am, and I have to be at the airport by 5:30am. But let’s remember that the airport is 1 1/2 hours from Kuala Lumpur. So I booked a taxi to pick me up at 4AM and take the three highways to the airport terminal. "Was that a safe choice?" I asked.

Andrew would hear none of it. "It's not safe."

He and his wife offered to let me stay at their place for the night (that is, 20mins away from the airport), so they can drive me there at 5AM.

I tried to resist. Promise.

But I couldn’t.

So I checked out from Novotel, rode their car to suburbs and next thing I know, I was taking a shower at their house, sleeping at their daughter’s room, and accompanied to the airport through security checks, check-in, etc. WOW. I’m really lucky to have such a wonderful surprise host family. I can’t imagine what my morning would have been like if I took that taxi alone to the airport at 4AM. That would have been another suspense thriller waiting to happen.

Thank you thank you, Goh Family. I am forever indebted. And for that, you'll be invited to my wedding too. Hehehe.

Entry 4: The Best Place for an Architecture Lesson

noreply@blogger.com (vanessa) — Thu, 30 Oct 2008 11:16:00 +0000

Song of the Moment: Alone in Kyoto by Air

I did the most tourist-y activity in Kuala Lumpur --- take the Hop-On Hop-Off Bus around the city! It went pretty well actually; I didn’t have to struggle with a map and an MRT route. Plus I maximized my RM38 for two whole routes, jumping from the Craft Cultural Complex to the National Museum to the Petronas Twin Towers to China Town (Petaling Street) and finally, the Central Market. There were loads of photos along the way, presenting the progression of improved photography skills. Little Enzo’s looking better each time.

All I have to say is, Malaysians are probably the best modern architects out there. Of course, I have to give primary recognition to the Petronas Twin Towers. These magnificent structures look like they jumped out of the drawing board — almost looking animated and 2-dimensional, which is impressive for something 3D. Putrajaya was of course just ridiculously extravagant, in a modern way. They don’t have a lot of tours going that direction, but if you get the chance to drive by before entering KL, you should. It’s worth watching the light hit the glass buildings when you get there.

Oh and a little tip, when you get to the Central Market, look for the small stall that offers a 10-min foot reflexology for RM5. The catch? They use fish (and no pun intended). These little fishies bite off your callous feet because for the first time, there are actually creatures that get excited over dead skin cells! They have something similar at Underwater World Sentosa (Singapore), but they charge an arm and a leg. Trust me, 10 minutes is enough. The European ladies who sat next to me were squealing to no end! Hahaha!