Just-Iced

Turning Off the LOVE Switch

noreply@blogger.com (Just-iced) — Sun, 29 May 2011 07:37:00 +0000

I believe it is Respect and not Love that holds the very foundation of every relationship of whatever kind, form or shape. I cannot count how many times I have been disrespected by strangers and to me, the aftershock of such isn’t as bad as that coming from someone you truly care for. Then when it happens, I can’t help but wonder: what on earth did I do to deserve it?

It did happen. The worst thing was, it happened in the early stage of building the relationship.

Disclaimer: This isn't (entirely) about (my) romantic relationship.

Birthday Wishes, Etc.

noreply@blogger.com (Just-iced) — Sat, 16 Apr 2011 01:29:00 +0000

I can’t remember the last time I wished something for my birthday. Excitement is rarely felt this time of the year, so instead looking forward to getting a year older, I’d rather let it pass by like ordinary days do. I remember my tweet a couple of days ago: Things I look forward to this month: LBC box, The Script Concert and Gossip Girl. Funny, because I have thought of including my birthday but just dismissed the thought altogether after considering the three as more important or exciting for that matter! But since I am turning 2 and a half decades, I feel that it’s time to pay a little attention to such event because quarter life only happens once in a lifetime.

So for starters, let’s have something small and simple: a vacation. I need a break and I think I deserve one. Ok, there’s this Bohol-Cebu-or-Bohol –Dumaguete-whatever-wherever trip Mc and I are planning to go to this August. Flights were booked, the hotel and resort, as well as the tour are planned already, but you know, shit can still happen. So there’s no assurance. I just hope this trip pushes through.

High: A home that will make every member in our household happy. A house in an exclusive village in Tagaytay City may sound worldly to most people but to our family, it’s more than just any house. My mom and dad worked hard for a long time to get us where we are right now. They deserve an early retirement and a house that goes with it. The plan is that they live there while it serves as a vacation house for the rest of the family. Construction will not start until 2012 because we are still paying for the lot. I just wish I could help support by folks in my own little ways and help them fund their dream house, our home.

Higher this time: November 17, 2011. I can’t elaborate much about this date. I just hope God will grant me this one.

Etc…
I am thankful to God for blessing me with:
1. A loving and supporting family
2. The best boyfriend in the world
3. A thriving career
4. True friends (I have very few, and you know who you are)
5. A life that rocks!

Reblog: 30 Things Every Woman Should Have and Should Know by the Time She's 30

noreply@blogger.com (Just-iced) — Thu, 14 Apr 2011 02:34:00 +0000

I found an article on Glamour Magazine online way back 2007. It was written a couple of years ago but the things in it still hold true to this moment. It is something every girl should read, no matter what phase or age in her life she's in.

Four days from now, I will be turning 25 and I went back to this article to somehow remind myself of the things I should learn to work out and/or come to terms with in the future.

30 Things Every Woman Should Have and Should Know by the Time She's 30

By 30, you should have:
1. One old boyfriend you can imagine going back to and one who reminds you of how far you’ve come.
2. A decent piece of furniture not previously owned by anyone else in your family.
3. Something perfect to wear if the employer or man of your dreams wants to see you in an hour.
4. A purse, a suitcase and an umbrella you’re not ashamed to be seen carrying.
5. A youth you’re content to move beyond.
6. A past juicy enough that you’re looking forward to retelling it in your old age.
7. The realization that you are actually going to have an old age—and some money set aside to help fund it.
8. An e-mail address, a voice mailbox and a bank account—all of which nobody has access to but you.
9. A résumé that is not even the slightest bit padded.
10. One friend who always makes you laugh and one who lets you cry.
11. A set of screwdrivers, a cordless drill and a black lace bra.
12. Something ridiculously expensive that you bought for yourself, just because you deserve it.
13. The belief that you deserve it.
14. A skin-care regimen, an exercise routine and a plan for dealing with those few other facets of life that don’t get better after 30.
15. A solid start on a satisfying career, a satisfying relationship and all those other facets of life that do get better.

By 30, you should know:
1. How to fall in love without losing yourself.
2. How you feel about having kids.
3. How to quit a job, break up with a man and confront a friend without ruining the friendship.
4. When to try harder and when to walk away.
5. How to kiss in a way that communicates perfectly what you would and wouldn’t like to happen next.
6. The names of: the secretary of state, your great-grandmother and the best tailor in town.
7. How to live alone, even if you don’t like to.
8. How to take control of your own birthday.
9. That you can’t change the length of your calves, the width of your hips or the nature of your parents.
10. That your childhood may not have been perfect, but it’s over.
11. What you would and wouldn’t do for money or love.
12. That nobody gets away with smoking, drinking, doing drugs or not flossing for very long.
13. Who you can trust, who you can’t and why you shouldn’t take it personally.
14. Not to apologize for something that isn’t your fault.
15. Why they say life begins at 30.

People Come and Go: The Last Installment (Hopefully)

noreply@blogger.com (Just-iced) — Sun, 24 Oct 2010 18:32:00 +0000

I always believe that in this world, we are bound to come in and out of each other’s lives from the day we were born to the day we die. Fate does not allow exceptions of any kind and form in this game thus, everyone’s compelled to play. No matter who we are, no matter where life takes us, we enter someone’s life and leave at one point or another, with or without having to know the reasons why. Sometimes, it is a short trip like a pit stop. Other times, we begin with the long and winding (sometimes blinding) path before reaching the fork road.

I realized it a couple of years ago and have strongly believed in it since then. Truth is, the thought never failed to break my heart until recently when someone proved me wrong. He showed me the bigger picture of my pre-conceived notion when he made a choice of temporarily leaving so he could stay forever. He proved to me that though there were some who came along momentarily and eventually decided to leave, there are also few who value our relationship so much they’re still with me. He is right. It’s all a matter of choice and people can always make a decision. They can either walk away or stay.

In my case, not everyone left. I still got my family and very few ones whom I consider my real friends. I guess it was just my cynicism that made me look past the wonderful thing that is now vividly painted right in front of me.

Not all people come and go because others opt to LINGER. And while there are some who happen but will have to leave and RETURN in due time, there are also those who are willing to WAIT.

People Come and Go
People Come and Go 2

On Being Selfless

noreply@blogger.com (Just-iced) — Sat, 09 Oct 2010 16:08:00 +0000

The definition to me of the word selfless has been in constant change since the day I learned how to share the remote control with my little brother when we were kids. I know I was being selfless when 1.) He was the first to turn on the TV, 2.) We already agreed on how this little timesharing of ours would work for us (afternoons were usually his and evenings were mine), and 3.) I let him be because I was busy doing something else. Funny that being selfless back then was in actuality still being selfish. It was in fact conditional—if’s and buts were indispensable.

Back in High School, I would always save up for Christmas beginning the month of October so I could put presents under the tree for my family and few friends. The mentality here of a 13-year old kid: It’s Christmas, they buy me gifts, so I give also. It was not entirely obligatory but something that worked with a catch, and a little dash of shame of not returning the favor.

When I bought my first Louis Vuitton bag, I was the happiest girl in the world. It was the best bag, or accessory for that matter, a 22-year old girl could ever have. Strangely, I realized mom would love it more that I do. On a whim, I decided she could have it. This one was clearly unconditional. I realized, “well, mom’s in her late 40’s and I am still young. I will have my chance again, and I know it will not come just once.”

A couple of weeks ago, Mc told me he’s leaving for the States in three month’s time or less. I knew about his petition since we started dating but I never thought it would be this soon. It was significantly painful the first few days. It felt unimaginably unbearable yet I never told him how terrible it was for me. My heart was broken and God knows I cried buckets of tears every night.

I understand that his is the kind of opportunity that one should never miss. Yet, I am not a fan of long distance relationships. I don't trust people when they say emails and IM’s can hold them together. But then again, thinking of how excited he gets when he tells me stories about his vacay in the US changes everything. Slowly, this preconceived notion about long distance relationships fades.

I knew he will decide to stay if I ask him to but that’s the last thing I want to do. I am a low-maint girlfriend when it comes to things like this. I don’t ask let alone demand. What I know for sure right now is that I want him to go according to what is planned while I wait for him. The only thing that’s keeping me intact is his promise.

The definition to me of the word selfless has been in constant change. Now, it’s more than just being unselfish or unconditional. It’s self-sacrificing.

Just an FYI

noreply@blogger.com (Just-iced) — Fri, 08 Oct 2010 03:41:00 +0000

I worked so hard to get to where I am right now. You don’t have the right to show me the kind of disrespect your pathetic excuse for an attitude knows. You don’t know me, so tell your puny, uneducated brain to stop judging me. No one judges me, not even my parents who provided me with the best in life. You are a NOBODY to me, you understand that? So mind your own fucking business! It’s a shame that we haven’t even met each other so far, yet you already gave me an idea of what an impolite, pitiful, little bastard you are! Thanks for sparing me the time and effort to get to know you.

That One Scream

noreply@blogger.com (Just-iced) — Mon, 20 Sep 2010 14:33:00 +0000

Have you ever cried as if the world were your prison and your soul, the captive? Have you ever been hurt so bad the rupture on your skin suddenly becomes bearable, and eventually numb? Have you ever felt so angry all you could give is a furious scream--that one deep breath, that significant amount of air that let your lungs hold for a split second, then finally releasing it with a cry so loud it could crush your heart, yet so hard it could simultaneously keep the heart from tearing apart, rather making it pound even stronger?

Just let it out because nothing can make it better but one solid scream.

Passion or Obsession?

noreply@blogger.com (Just-iced) — Sun, 27 Jun 2010 02:52:00 +0000

Now here’s the deal with working in a kitchen of a five-star hotel: you work 10-14 hours a day, sometimes even longer, 6 days a week. No Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Year, Easter and what have you. No weekends, no holidays. Period. If you’re lucky you can get your 5-minute bathroom break once in a while and if life is a little friendlier to you than usual, you can get your 20-minute lunch/dinner break (say once every 2 weeks). This is such a pretty standard hotel setting.

The restaurant in the hotel that I am working for offers buffet. And since it’s five-star, it has a huge buffet as well. My duty starts at 7 in the morning—same time as the opening of the breakfast buffet. It ends 10:30 where we pull out the food, pack up and clean up. Before 12nn, we should have done our assignments—cook the food and set up our stations. And all we have is one and a half hours which happens before the restaurant opens again for lunch. Then we prep for dinner, and for tomorrow’s menu.

The job goes beyond prepping and cooking food. When it comes down to it, we would wash pots, pans, plates, and utensils just like what our pot and dishwashers do. We would take out the garbage just like the janitors, we would serve the guests sometimes just like the waiters.

To be honest, I am an underpaid machine. They pay me 8 hours of work while I do way more than that. No overtime pay. God help me! If I were to describe my everyday in one word, I’d say it’s “Insane!”

It’s downright excessive that at the end of the day, my whole body would feel dead tired but then again the realization that I have found my passion, and that am happy with what I am doing is something PRICELESS.

Raindrops and Sophia

noreply@blogger.com (Just-iced) — Mon, 21 Jun 2010 11:29:00 +0000

I like it when it rains only when a.) I am at home, listening to its downpour; b.) I am at home, sipping a steamy cup of my favorite tea or coffee blend; and c.) I am at home dreaming (both awake and in my sleep).

I never liked the rain whenever I am out. But last Saturday, my mood unbelievably changed—from extremely hating the weather to loving it to bits. And that part was pretty confusing.

I know it wasn’t the movie, “Toy Story” that made me lean towards that unutterable enthusiasm. The pasta I had was overcooked, so I know it was not the food either. Perhaps it was the moment—it was raining and we were driving home, in Sophia (the car that he named after my late domesticated hen), our hoodies snugly on, with chill music playing in the background…

…with our fingers intertwined.

P.S.
Or maybe it was just Sophia. Confusing, but I loved it.

I let it burn all the way down

noreply@blogger.com (Just-iced) — Mon, 31 May 2010 21:36:00 +0000

I haven’t written in a long time, and if it wasn’t for the date, I wouldn’t remember the last time I sat down and put my thoughts into a piece of writing. I tried drawing inspiration from what Hemingway once said: All you have to do is write one true sentence. Write the truest sentence you know. He said from that true sentence, you can go on.

But there was nothing.

And I was thinking, maybe it wouldn’t work after all—that very statement of his—because one thing was missing in me. I couldn’t muster the courage to begin to write. That even if I had that one true sentence in mind, the cursor just kept blinking.

And now, though it’s not easy, am forcing myself to say it.

So here goes my one true sentence: I let it burn all the way down.

It would be so wrong to say I was scorched. That’s because I never liked the word. It’s just not appropriate. I loved what I did and I was burned in a good way.

You see, ours was the kind of thing that I thought would never end. It was great, generally speaking. For more than two years, I’d say we let it burn as brightly as we could. For me, it was easy and it felt right, being there in the spot where there were no worries to think about, no pain to dwell on to, and no conflicts to try to settle. All things seemed perfect as I tried to look past the flaws—mine, his, and everything in between. I tried and I tried hard. It worked in one way or another, but it eventually reached the point where it had to end. Yes, it felt right but it was blinding at the same time. In reality, the trying so hard to feel content was the very thing that pulled us apart. When I couldn’t try anymore, I began to think and question things, I knew something was wrong but I was in a state of total denial. But then the flames already started to burn my eyes. And when they eventually touched my hands, I felt the blaze, and finally gave up for I couldn’t stand the heat anymore.

I tried but I failed as a realization hit me, that I can’t make it unconditional. For me, what he gave me was enough. I was treated like a queen, he was there to hold my world while it collapses, his words and gestures alone were sweet enough to knock me off my feet. It was great, hands down. Those things will always hold a special place in my heart. However, I’m just human and some differences are just irreconcilable—like noise and silence, rage and calmness.

P.S.

I needed the intro (that I can probably delete someday), so I can go on. My one true sentence: I haven’t written in a long time, and if it wasn’t for the date, I wouldn’t remember the last time I sat down and put my thoughts into a piece of writing.

*Created: 01.05.10

Vertical

noreply@blogger.com (Just-iced) — Wed, 24 Feb 2010 17:15:00 +0000

I crave coffee. Sugar is confusing, so I want it black.
Still bitterness is the kind of taste I want to linger in my mouth.
Love it hot, somehow scorching my lips as I take my first sip.
You know you’ll like it too. Let me buy you a cup.

P.S.
After a nice dinner, perhaps.

Wires

noreply@blogger.com (Just-iced) — Wed, 17 Feb 2010 14:22:00 +0000

This pretty much sums up what's happening in my life right now:

Chaotic. Wish everything was wireless.

An Analogy

noreply@blogger.com (Just-iced) — Mon, 31 Aug 2009 09:25:00 +0000

Today, I realized that building dreams is like folding paper boats. I did three and it took me less than 5 minutes to make them. Now am wondering… How long does it take to create a real one? How about a restaurant?

Hangover

noreply@blogger.com (Just-iced) — Mon, 10 Aug 2009 17:44:00 +0000

Dear you,

It has been a long time since you last bumped into me. I know you'd pay me a visit as soon as I wake up four hours from now. I only have one request: Please don't be too harsh on me as I will cook in class. Oh my.. Something's wrong with my ears. I can't hear a thing right now. And the back of my head is going boom boom. I've to end this up.

Me

Hey, J-j-Jaded!

noreply@blogger.com (Just-iced) — Sat, 08 Aug 2009 18:36:00 +0000

I know you’re tired. I can see the lines on your face grow deeper each day. Your hands, no longer supple; your skin, no longer radiant. And though fatigue consumes you each and every time our world collapses, you still manage to look composed, flash a genuine smile, so that our minds will be free of worries. You know you’re tired and no cosmetic product or procedure can conceal that fact. But to me, at the end of the day, when you’re all drained and ugly, that’s when you’re at your most beautiful.

An Opinion on Yna's "Reality"

noreply@blogger.com (Just-iced) — Wed, 10 Jun 2009 11:51:00 +0000

Even if we try to dodge what hurts, and what is real, at the end of the day, we still come to a realization that we can never get ourselves to the end of the tunnel without facing what we fear. And escaping the truth isn't really escaping. Because it is and will always be a part of what is true. So its a vicious cycle: escaping and finding yourself trapped once again.

P.S.
Escape worlds will never be free of drama

This Thing I Call Passion

noreply@blogger.com (Just-iced) — Mon, 08 Jun 2009 16:53:00 +0000

Although there’s a great chance this whole physical and mental stress on my shoulders will get me tied up to a hospital bed two or three months from now, I still think entering the culinary world is one hell of a move as far as my career is concerned. And although I nearly call myself a robot for working like one, am pretty certain the clockwork will help me get there.

It’s huge a vision, I know. But seeing the exact opposite will only make me miss the whole point of this career makeover. So yes, I guess I’d continue doing myself a massive favor of keeping a positive attitude towards this thing I call, passion.

Security, Insecurity

noreply@blogger.com (Just-iced) — Tue, 14 Apr 2009 15:25:00 +0000

I love making plans. Sophisticated ones…

Five, seven years from now, I’d be in Italy or France, in some five-star hotel, watching my people move around the kitchen. Five, seven years from now, I’d stroll down the sidewalks of Paris, in my cream DVF dress, Chanel flats, Prada shades and a Gucci handbag. I’d shop, head home and cook dinner for two. Five, seven years from now, I would be in my late 20’s, still single, living my life.

That was all me and my career in the picture (and yes, my best customer). It sounded so easy. Of course it is. If there’s one thing in this world that I can take control of, it would definitely be my actions and nothing else. Kick ass and get there. That’s the plan five, seven years from now.

I love making plans. But it scares me sometimes because it’s not just the career that would make up my future. There’s marriage, and raising kids, and dealing with things that get in the way of my crystal clear blueprint. Blueprints guarantee nothing.

Nothing.

P.S.
It scares me… even if you say you’d hold my hand on our way there or, you got my back or what have you.

P.P.S.
And FIVE kids? Puhlease! Lol

I Am Just Tired. That's all.

noreply@blogger.com (Just-iced) — Fri, 06 Mar 2009 16:09:00 +0000

Tonight I was lying, stomach flat on my bedroom floor, trying to think of anything but stress. It was hard. There was nothing I could think of. I had a blank mind with a blank facial expression. And am damn tired!

It has been one hell of a month for me. I knew school would be stressful. Fourteen months and I get a diploma. It is relatively shorter compared to other diploma courses hence the fast-paced, exhausting life I have to endure for the next 12 months or so.

Kitchen weeks will forever be like this: every member of our class moves around the kitchen from 6:30 am to lunch time. We don’t sit unless it’s our turn to eat, which happens only after we have finished serving our guests with their full-course meal. During lecture weeks, patience and persistence would be tested through writing 100-500 times (depends on what the Chef instructors would require you) the right answers to every mistake you had. If you don’t want your hands getting all stiff the next morning because of arthritis, then probably you would want to memorize the handouts and manuals from cover to cover. Recipe quiz comes every other Friday. This week, we had learned roughly 25 recipes that I need to M-E-M-O-R-I-Z-E.

I don’t want to sound as if I were whining or something because I don’t know, I really am not complaining. I am tired that’s all. And this is probably what I need to be able to get there. This is just like an opportunity with a huge challenge that goes with it. The Man up there must really love me.

*whispers thank you*

Now, I will look for my matchbox, light a scented candle and relax because tomorrow, I shall cook for my family.

Lunch for 79 People

noreply@blogger.com (Just-iced) — Tue, 03 Mar 2009 10:34:00 +0000

Today, we prepared lunch for 79 hungry people. Despite the relatively small count, the kitchen was chaotic from start to finish and the feeling was ecstatic! It was like working in a real restaurant. I'd like to share the dishes we made today. Feel free to eat with your eyes and imagination.

Minestrone Soup with Pesto

Breaded Snapper Fillet with Tartar Sauce over Warm Potato Salad in Bacon Mustard Sauce

From the pastry kitchen are:

Chomp. Chomp.

Mind Your Own Weight

noreply@blogger.com (Just-iced) — Thu, 19 Feb 2009 09:21:00 +0000

I am really pissed off right now I could literally punch her in the face! Apparently this girl’s mouth is uncontrollably harsh. I was minding my own business when she held my arm and blurted out the words, “Grabe! Ang payat payat mo. Sobra!!!” and I was like “OA!”

This is exactly what I mean when I say people should know when to open their mouth and when to shut up.

I could’ve just said, “My jeans and mini skirt fit me perfectly fine. Thanks!”

But then again, I know when to shut up. And again, I don’t want to level to her absolutely fine manners.

P.S
Just so you know, I don't have anything against horizontally-challenged people. It's the insult that made my blood reach its boiling point.

Denial

noreply@blogger.com (Just-iced) — Fri, 16 Jan 2009 05:00:00 +0000

It was almost three in the morning when my mind finally got tired of thinking that I fell asleep without knowing until now what my last thought was. I was overthinking.

Again. Ugh!

Woke up to the sound of my alarm at exactly 6:45 am. Didn't bother to turn the snooze on. I wanted to go back to fantasy. I opened my eyes 9:03 am and then… bam. It hit me. Time to face the end.

I dressed up for this day—in clothes and accessories that I don't usually wear at work, a handbag that I don't usually carry during typical days, and scent that I only spray when I am out on a date. I left the house with all these and with a nagging question in mind: is this really happening?

I dressed up for this. Undoubtedly, it is happening!

Visions

noreply@blogger.com (Just-iced) — Sun, 11 Jan 2009 09:26:00 +0000

Occasionally she dreams of Italy.
She dreams of cheese shops, persnickety fiats
And very fine leather goods.

-kate spade

I guess I share the same burning desires with her.

What I Know for Sure Today

noreply@blogger.com (Just-iced) — Sun, 11 Jan 2009 09:14:00 +0000

Impatience, when done right is the key to quick success.
My family will always be my worst critics.
My parents’ happiness will never be based on what I have achieved in my life but on the things that bring me GENUINE happiness.
The impulse to pull the trigger is felt almost every time people let me down. But If I lose faith, I lose everything.

Versus

noreply@blogger.com (Just-iced) — Fri, 09 Jan 2009 14:57:00 +0000

Eleven days from now, I’d be facing what I consider so far the most challenging phase in my life—the kitchen world. Everything moved as fast as a bullet train. One minute I was just dreaming of getting into a culinary school and the next thing I knew, I was being summoned to fit my school uniform. Spending 40k for 2 bags in 2 consecutive days is nothing compared to this. Unlike my impulsive shopping which sent me to a blissful treat called pleasure and luxury, this is something scary. This will change my life (probably forever). Nooooooo!

Faints.

That was Bheng screaming no. With conviction, huh? The one who made the decision about the bags, that was her too. Crazy! On the contrary, Arbee, the sane side of me is telling me to go for it. Do it with caution, the way mature people do.

Wearing a chef’s jacket, a toque, pants and a pair of clogs sends chills to my spine and butterflies to my tummy. I mean I would abso-freakin-lutely feel great in that ensemble. Nevertheless, wearing a complete chef’s gear, I understand, is more than that.

The excitement I feel would all vanish into thin air each time the idea of taking this “serious risk” comes to my mind. The risk here involves almost everything that I have now. Am risking the career that I have built for almost 3 years, my romantic relationship, my life in the social realm, my health--my two perfectly functioning bean-shaped organs, and my family’s welfare (the tuition fee is not a joke, I tell you. the plan of getting a new house has now become temporarily out of the picture). I fear all these and all the other things muddling to form this enormous paranoia. But dwelling on these thoughts will only macerate my cerebral faculty, if not blow off my entire brain. I gotta get this negativity off my system! Caffeine. I need caffeine. Or a shot or 2 of tequila, please. Cig? Oh darn. I do not smoke.

God, help me.