my mom and i went to mass in padre pio in libis. sobrang daming tao. grabe!
bless all of us. we could all use a little healing in our lives.
Tuesday, September 23, 2008
Thursday, September 11, 2008
overdue
i've never been to new york. but if i should ever be there, i hope to come when the US Open is playing.
***********************************************************************************
im a staunch fan of rafael nadal. don't get me wrong, i love me some federer but nadal just takes this sport to its true level: game. federer, for all his talent and skills, border on prissy for me. his outfits are impeccable and his stance so royal. perfect, i assume, for such a country club sport. after all, tennis is the gentleman's game. oh but nadal... for all his good looks and disarming aura, nadal never fails to entertain. his muscles bulge against the thin fabric of his clothes. his fashion may be considered boring -- what, with capri pants, sleeveless tee, bandana and the occassional jacket -- but it's completely different from the sea of loose shirts, shorts and cap in the circuit. the new yorker sums it up nicely: roger federer represents swiss precision but rafael nadal is pure majorcan passion.
the spaniard took many amzing highs this year: his win at the french open, his nailbiting win at wimbledon (where, i might add, i shed a few tears of joy), and his gold at the olympics. the boy's a star and im fairly certain he was exhausted by the time the US Open rolled around. he fought the good fight but even rafa admits that andy murray definitely outplayed him. too bad, though. everyone was hoping for a nadal-federer finale. everyone, perhaps except roger himself after losing the french open, the crushing defeat at wimbledon and to top it off, handing over the top spot in the atp. jokesters theorized that roger's win at the US Open was due to the unwavering support of roger's secret other half to his may-december affair... no, not Mirka, who he says is the love of is life... but Anna Wintour, perpetual fan, friend and fashion ally. I personally can't imagine Nadal in the arms of Wintour. His unkempt curly locks might actually put a look of disdain in her expressionless, over-botoxed face. I'd pay to get a photo of that.
I love Nadal. I love how his energy seems to come from a well within him that drives him to win. He does many things that show power. His strokes are precise, he moves and twists his body midair to hit the racquet, he grunts like a madman and very rarely smiles as he plays. in fact, the lack of expression in his face makes him very hard to read. when he seems to be struggling, you won't see a look of worry in his eyes. when he seems to be winning, he doesn't carry a smug look in his face. all there is is sheer intensity. for a guy with such a strong, hard physique, i love how he moves and maneuvers himself in positions ballet dancers should be doing. Nadal is primal power at its finest.
Which is why I love the US Open. In Wimbledon, the players all look so glamorous and even in the heat of the sun and the hard rain, even the audience are all poised and serious. I imagine they all speak with a pompous british accent, drinking tea while making stirring comments about a certain bloke's tennis prowess and preference for burberry accessories. The US Open audience are engaged. They are dressed down to jeans and shirts, with some fanatics even going shirtless donning body paint ( I saw this in the match between rafael nadal and mardy fish). They loudly cheer for their bet like in football. they are racuous at times. i love it. sports whould be enjoyed like that. As this is already an utterly gratuitous entry about my rafa-worship, i shall post one of my favorite nadal photos of recent times. Ladies (and a few gentlemen who might care), the world number one (in tennis and in my heart):
***********************************************************************************
im a staunch fan of rafael nadal. don't get me wrong, i love me some federer but nadal just takes this sport to its true level: game. federer, for all his talent and skills, border on prissy for me. his outfits are impeccable and his stance so royal. perfect, i assume, for such a country club sport. after all, tennis is the gentleman's game. oh but nadal... for all his good looks and disarming aura, nadal never fails to entertain. his muscles bulge against the thin fabric of his clothes. his fashion may be considered boring -- what, with capri pants, sleeveless tee, bandana and the occassional jacket -- but it's completely different from the sea of loose shirts, shorts and cap in the circuit. the new yorker sums it up nicely: roger federer represents swiss precision but rafael nadal is pure majorcan passion.
the spaniard took many amzing highs this year: his win at the french open, his nailbiting win at wimbledon (where, i might add, i shed a few tears of joy), and his gold at the olympics. the boy's a star and im fairly certain he was exhausted by the time the US Open rolled around. he fought the good fight but even rafa admits that andy murray definitely outplayed him. too bad, though. everyone was hoping for a nadal-federer finale. everyone, perhaps except roger himself after losing the french open, the crushing defeat at wimbledon and to top it off, handing over the top spot in the atp. jokesters theorized that roger's win at the US Open was due to the unwavering support of roger's secret other half to his may-december affair... no, not Mirka, who he says is the love of is life... but Anna Wintour, perpetual fan, friend and fashion ally. I personally can't imagine Nadal in the arms of Wintour. His unkempt curly locks might actually put a look of disdain in her expressionless, over-botoxed face. I'd pay to get a photo of that.
I love Nadal. I love how his energy seems to come from a well within him that drives him to win. He does many things that show power. His strokes are precise, he moves and twists his body midair to hit the racquet, he grunts like a madman and very rarely smiles as he plays. in fact, the lack of expression in his face makes him very hard to read. when he seems to be struggling, you won't see a look of worry in his eyes. when he seems to be winning, he doesn't carry a smug look in his face. all there is is sheer intensity. for a guy with such a strong, hard physique, i love how he moves and maneuvers himself in positions ballet dancers should be doing. Nadal is primal power at its finest.
Which is why I love the US Open. In Wimbledon, the players all look so glamorous and even in the heat of the sun and the hard rain, even the audience are all poised and serious. I imagine they all speak with a pompous british accent, drinking tea while making stirring comments about a certain bloke's tennis prowess and preference for burberry accessories. The US Open audience are engaged. They are dressed down to jeans and shirts, with some fanatics even going shirtless donning body paint ( I saw this in the match between rafael nadal and mardy fish). They loudly cheer for their bet like in football. they are racuous at times. i love it. sports whould be enjoyed like that. As this is already an utterly gratuitous entry about my rafa-worship, i shall post one of my favorite nadal photos of recent times. Ladies (and a few gentlemen who might care), the world number one (in tennis and in my heart):
*sigh*
how about you, dear? who's your favorite athlete and why?
Wednesday, September 10, 2008
TV JUNKIE
im currently downloading (shh!) new episodes of season 2 of gossip girl. and it takes up a ridiculous amount of my energy as i debate whether i love chuck bass more this season or if serena is now my favorite character. Note: Rufus Humphrey is still hotttt!!!
im also watching one tree hill season 5. ooohhh bartenders are always delicious!
and then there are reruns of friends, frasier, sex and the city and will and grace. i also love watching entourage. i still think i could be ari gold!
i really should get out more.
im also watching one tree hill season 5. ooohhh bartenders are always delicious!
and then there are reruns of friends, frasier, sex and the city and will and grace. i also love watching entourage. i still think i could be ari gold!
i really should get out more.
Sunday, August 31, 2008
please
let me warn you now. this is going to be a long and emotional post.
yesterday, my brother lost one of his friends. needless to say, my brother is devastated by the loss and the trickle effect has begun. my mom was deeply saddened for the parents who have lost a child. i know she knows the depth of a mother's love and can never imagine the anguish they must face as they go through this tragedy. i feel for the friends who have lost their comrade. when life is a battlefield, to lose one of the soldiers is a cut that runs deep. it leaves empty gaping wounds that bleed everyday -- a reminder of a life cut short, way before its due.
i am tremendously overwhelmed by this senseless tragedy. i am sorry that i have to be witness to 5 suicides of people i know. it's painful for me each and every time. i wish there was more that could have been done for those in despair. at this point, i truly believe that therapy and medication have its own merits. i wish i could find a way to make help more accessible to those who need it. perhaps there is no better time than now to find a way to reach out to someone who suffers from the grips of depression and lead them to the proper help. depression is a serious illness and there should be no stigma against people who suffer from this. emotional pain is just as horrible as physical pain, if not more.
in another blog entry (in another channel) i wrote about the betrayal of the mind and body. ive always lived in fear of having a terminal illness. i find that even the most resilient spirits can still crumble in heartbreaking fashion when faced with a body that fails to move forward. i think of people who fight cancer and wonder where they get their strength and the faith to withstand the pain. they are heroes who fight a battle that rage within them, a fight between the will to live and surrender to death. and then i wonder about those whose bodies are perfectly well but whose minds and spirits slowly wither away until all hope is extinguished. when life beats you up and mind and your spirit choose to retire, in this battle, death often wins.
suicides actually comprise a huge chunk of deaths every year. and the attempts are even greater in number. it is estimated that there are 20 million failed suicide attempts in a year. do we really want to make this number greater? more than the grief that comes with the loss, those who are left behind by a suicide victim suffer trauma, anger, remorse, and guilt. the repercussions often leave the bereaved helpless, in constant emotional pain and a crippling inability to move beyond the death. i know this because ive survived 3 suicides from people i know and have been close to. while i never knew this boy well, i know him from the stories i've heard and the fact that his life seemed to be so similar to people i know, make this death as painful as the others. feelings i thought were long buried when my friends passed resurfaced and i struggle now to find ways to stifle this grief and to heal. and this is just me, a stranger to this boy in many ways, a third party observer.
what do i say to comfort those left behind when i found no answers for myself when faced with the same loss? how do i tell them that life will be better later on when there are no assurances good enough? how do i lie? i was so sad yesterday when my mom said that every parent's dream for her child is to see him grow up, finish school, become successful and have their own families. these dreams will no longer be realized when a 20 year old boy dies. more than that, i cannot even begin to fathom if acceptance will ever become a possibility. it shouldn't be that we settle for far less and have our parents' dream that their child merely survives this life. we should all be so lucky and dare to go further than that. let us dream for each other a peaceful and happy life, steady jobs that pay well, beautiful grandchildren for our parents, more new things to discover, more experiences to share with each other. let us all live for as long as we can, as wonderfully as we can. we live in a world where brotherhood and fraternity is more pronounced, where it is easy to commune with someone from another part of the world. let us reach out and make sure that anyone who suffers from depression and loneliness know that there is always another hand to connect with, there is always an ear willing to listen. let us make each others' lives worth saving and our own worth living.
yesterday, my brother lost one of his friends. needless to say, my brother is devastated by the loss and the trickle effect has begun. my mom was deeply saddened for the parents who have lost a child. i know she knows the depth of a mother's love and can never imagine the anguish they must face as they go through this tragedy. i feel for the friends who have lost their comrade. when life is a battlefield, to lose one of the soldiers is a cut that runs deep. it leaves empty gaping wounds that bleed everyday -- a reminder of a life cut short, way before its due.
i am tremendously overwhelmed by this senseless tragedy. i am sorry that i have to be witness to 5 suicides of people i know. it's painful for me each and every time. i wish there was more that could have been done for those in despair. at this point, i truly believe that therapy and medication have its own merits. i wish i could find a way to make help more accessible to those who need it. perhaps there is no better time than now to find a way to reach out to someone who suffers from the grips of depression and lead them to the proper help. depression is a serious illness and there should be no stigma against people who suffer from this. emotional pain is just as horrible as physical pain, if not more.
in another blog entry (in another channel) i wrote about the betrayal of the mind and body. ive always lived in fear of having a terminal illness. i find that even the most resilient spirits can still crumble in heartbreaking fashion when faced with a body that fails to move forward. i think of people who fight cancer and wonder where they get their strength and the faith to withstand the pain. they are heroes who fight a battle that rage within them, a fight between the will to live and surrender to death. and then i wonder about those whose bodies are perfectly well but whose minds and spirits slowly wither away until all hope is extinguished. when life beats you up and mind and your spirit choose to retire, in this battle, death often wins.
suicides actually comprise a huge chunk of deaths every year. and the attempts are even greater in number. it is estimated that there are 20 million failed suicide attempts in a year. do we really want to make this number greater? more than the grief that comes with the loss, those who are left behind by a suicide victim suffer trauma, anger, remorse, and guilt. the repercussions often leave the bereaved helpless, in constant emotional pain and a crippling inability to move beyond the death. i know this because ive survived 3 suicides from people i know and have been close to. while i never knew this boy well, i know him from the stories i've heard and the fact that his life seemed to be so similar to people i know, make this death as painful as the others. feelings i thought were long buried when my friends passed resurfaced and i struggle now to find ways to stifle this grief and to heal. and this is just me, a stranger to this boy in many ways, a third party observer.
what do i say to comfort those left behind when i found no answers for myself when faced with the same loss? how do i tell them that life will be better later on when there are no assurances good enough? how do i lie? i was so sad yesterday when my mom said that every parent's dream for her child is to see him grow up, finish school, become successful and have their own families. these dreams will no longer be realized when a 20 year old boy dies. more than that, i cannot even begin to fathom if acceptance will ever become a possibility. it shouldn't be that we settle for far less and have our parents' dream that their child merely survives this life. we should all be so lucky and dare to go further than that. let us dream for each other a peaceful and happy life, steady jobs that pay well, beautiful grandchildren for our parents, more new things to discover, more experiences to share with each other. let us all live for as long as we can, as wonderfully as we can. we live in a world where brotherhood and fraternity is more pronounced, where it is easy to commune with someone from another part of the world. let us reach out and make sure that anyone who suffers from depression and loneliness know that there is always another hand to connect with, there is always an ear willing to listen. let us make each others' lives worth saving and our own worth living.
Saturday, August 30, 2008
perfect
i had the perfect morning. i had an alcohol-free friday night and a schedule-free saturday morning. i woke up at 8am, played with my dogs for a bit and had breakfast. afterwards, i went back to bed and curled up with a book. i haven't had a day like this in a while. im so happy.
=)
Wednesday, August 27, 2008
buy u a drank
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m4TKeJRraVo
hay nako! kung si jesse mccartney pwede maging ghetto, dapat pwede din ako!
medyo mahal ko na sya. shhh. secret natin!
hay nako! kung si jesse mccartney pwede maging ghetto, dapat pwede din ako!
medyo mahal ko na sya. shhh. secret natin!
Tuesday, August 26, 2008
oh come on
how do you not fall in love with that itty bitty little kitty?
well, my dad wasn't happy when i tried to save a little kitty from my prowling dogs (give them a break, it's animal instinct!) and the monster cat bit my hands. bled for a bit but it was okay. the cat seemed happy to be out of my dog's line of sight. i even gave her some food. but my dad was not happy.
neither was my brother who seem to detest having had to deal with all the hullaballoo over a cat. he didnt even want to touch the darned kitty.
most of all, my mom was not happy that she had to cough up some money for my tetanus shots, antibiotics and succeeding consultations. nice.
what a way to spend sunday night. if i still don't become catwoman a la michelle pfeifer or halle berry by tomorrow, im going to scream.
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