And the stars!


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Have you ever had that orgasmic moment after taking a generous bite of a sinfully delicious and moist Decadence Chocolate Cake? Yeah. That moment. Shooting for the stars isn’t confined to reaching your life goals. Sometimes it’s all about taking a few portions of a really scrumptious dish, and immediately have the heavens within your grasp.

Lately, I’ve been thinking about my plans in life. There’s this business I really want to put up; however, different hurdles left and right are pinning me down at the moment. I’ve long known putting up a business is tough, but I never thought it would be this tough. Why do I want to put a business up? It’s very simple: It’s because I want to be able to travel the world without the worries of getting fired the day I come back. Having my own business means I am my own boss. That’s the end goal in XX number of years in the future. Oh, right! And to get rich.

A good friend once told me that creativity flows freely when you’re having coffee (and probably having a stick or two while you’re at it). Somehow, coffee (or tea) and nicotine helps your brain make sense of all the dreams you’ve been making, and they help create the dots you need to connect to make your dreams a reality. Now I’m not sure if it’s the caffeine, nicotine, the ambiance, or whatever else, but I’m pretty sure I’ve connected a few good dots to bring me closer to that vacation (and getting rich)!

An experiment ensued:

A nice, sunlit room. Good music (that day, I was listening to The Flower Duet by Délibes). Good food, like, say, this really delicious lasagna I bought from Ystella’s Cuisine. I find that when my mouth is moving, I’m able to come up with good ideas. This led me to believe, therefore, that, given the right setting and company, good food equates to good plans, and ultimately, holding the stars of my dreams right at the palm of my hands.

Good food needn’t be expensive. It comes in all forms and (serving) sizes. From the tiniest, tastiest brownie, to the full-blown, 3-course meal at a 5-star hotel restaurant, delicious food is everywhere – all we need to do is look around. Taste. Discover. Many good food are found aplenty in various places.

In the pursuit of dreams, one must keep a mind open to any and all possibilities. Inspirations are drawn from a variety of media – even food. Indulge once in a while. Go ahead and take that bite. Savor each explosion of flavor in your taste buds. Be one more step closer to fulfilling your dreams.

In the Spanish language “Y stella” or “Y estrella” means “And (the) stars.” How apropos for a name that helped me be a step closer to my goals. Ystella’s Cuisine is a start-up, home-based, business now ready to take orders via Facebook. Their full contact details are in their page.



We all start somewhere


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We all start somewhere. Perhaps, a writing on the wall will do for now.

Pablo Neruda once wrote “love is so short, forgetting is so long,” and this is something a lot of people are very much acquainted with. While some people have already gone through that ‘so long’ phase, and some, still are going through it as you’re reading this blog, what actually matters is to get over the hill and move on.

If you are stuck in the limbo between being heartbroken and holding your head high again, read this article to know that you are not alone in this. Things do get better, and there is hope for everyone of us.

Moving on is not as difficult as people make it out to be. It may take a lot of time, but it won’t take forever. Moving on is right at your fingertips. Aunt May did it, and so did I.

Tsk! Too close! Too bad!


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Unfortunately, misfortunes happen even to the fortunate.

See, the funny thing about today was that I thought it would be just this ordinary day with my sibs. I thought, just like with every other reunion we’ve had, that it would be mainly just the four of us sharing a meal and sharing stories. I had originally thought it would be as bland as it was in the past – save for seeing my sisters again (which always gives me joy), as usual. As usual, I was wrong.

The deal was that I should get to Pineapples City before lunch so I could help them out prepare for the bash. I got to the house at roughly around 1630H because of things I had to attend to prior to coming over.

Warm hugs and hearty greetings were exchanged. Food was served. I was eating while updating my sisters, Joy and Jean, what had happened to me that caused my delay. Everything was as it should be. My youngest sister, Jo, comes up to us and asked Jean if her friend (who we will name as Mr. Puwah) is coming over. Jean turned to Jo, and then to me, eyes bright with mischief, and then said yes. Something told me this was going to be an interesting afternoon.

Both Jean and Jo were firmly convinced that this Mr. Puwah dude is a hottie. They both wanted me to meet this Mr. Whoever. I, being who, and how, I am with my sisters, put on a little show. I pretended to have lost my appetite saying I can’t afford to be seen by a cute guy downing forkfuls of Carbonara – regardless of how delicious it was. I stood up, got my comb, put my hair up in a pony tail, combed a little, and then sat back down.

Car break screeches.

Anticipation started boiling (yeah, I was curious to see this dude, too).

False alarm.

Jean’s friends arrived. There were five of them. Upon seeing the group, Jo looked at me to signal Mr. Puwah’s absence from the group.

“Meh.” That was my response. I mean, come the fuck on! It’s just a dude! I refuse(d) to let the lack of “dudes” in my life govern how I act towards these people. They’re way younger than I am anyhow, and I thought Mr. Puwah wouldn’t be far off from their ages either. I was chill. Really, though… how credible are two lesbians when it comes to men’s beauty?

Skipping past to the good part:

Mr. Puwah arrived. One of Jean’s friends spoke from behind me and said “SJ! He’s here!” Please understand that at this point, I really couldn’t be bothered. I was busy going around the groups of visitors at the party. At any rate, I turned to look at Mr. Puwah, and the first words that escaped my mouth were (and directed at him, too)…

“You’re hot.”

Soon as they left my mouth, I just wanted the earth to crack open and swallow me whole.

I’m going over a lot of other activities during the afternoon/night here, but rest assured Mr. Puwah is hot.

We all know beauty is subjective; however, allow me to explain just how hot this dude exactly is:

  • – Absolutely good-looking
  • – Listens to the same music I do
  • – Gets every word I say
  • – Admitted I’m attractive (yeah, man! This really had to be part of the list! LOL!)

No man is perfect:

  • – He’s currently dating someone

I have a personal code: I will only go for men who are available – physically, emotionally, and all the other “-lies” you can think of that are applicable.

Spending a good few hours with them youngsters, especially with Mr. Puwah, was such a treat! On our way home, discreetly, I squeezed Puwah’s hand to tell him I am happy I got to meet him, and that I, hopefully, get to hang out with him again (yeah, dude. One hand squeeze; two statements. Gerroff my case!).

Jean had pure intentions. She wanted to play match-maker. She just probably didn’t realize she was trying to set me up with someone unavailable.

This girl, though. She knows my type! I’ve been making myself too transparent lately, apparently. I’m appreciative, though. I know she wants me to be happy, but unfortunately, fortunate people are not so fortunate all the time.

My time will come. I know it will.

My note to Mr. Puwah: If you ever get to this part, sir, please know that I wish to see you again. It really doesn’t matter if it be with the gang or not. You said you wanted to have me as a friend. You got it. Whatever “friend” means to you, I’d respect it. You know, I can also be a brother to you guys, not just to Jean. If you need me, you know where to find me. Why do you have to be so hot, and yet so unavailable? 😉

Optimism: A tearful regard of the past with the best hopes for the future


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It is, indeed, a great privilege to get to know a person. While n0body can claim to have absolutely known someone (family, relatives, and close friends included), getting to experience living the life of another person provides insights that one may not have possessed prior to the exercise.

One lazy Friday night at work, as I was furiously trying to keep myself awake, I turned to the person sitting beside me and asked her about her past. She was, what we lovingly call, a “sister.” I wanted to know why she stepped out of “the calling,” and why the move to the industry we work in. As she began her tale, she brought me to the worlds she took part of, and I couldn’t help but feel… a sea of emotions washing over me.

The past

A convent girl who, faithfully heeding the Lord’s call, went through all the phases of her order, willingly, gladly, and selflessly, helped out in teaching children. She was, by all merits, an educator, a parent, and a guidance counselor to these children. She was loved – by the others in service with her, and by those whom she served.

 Unfortunately (or fortunately), the Lord had a different plan for her than what she thought. Life is tough – and that’s all I’m going to say. However, this part of her story was when the first strike of emotions came over me. I felt sad.

 Sister told me the reason why she had to step out of the convent. Her voice was strong, but you can almost see the glimmer in her eyes. A glimmer brought about by uncried tears. I suppose leaving a “calling” like that is much like losing a loved one. Alyson Noël wrote, “You never really stop missing someone – you just learn to live around the huge gaping hole of their absence.” Sister’s eyes showed me that side of her which we never get to see in the office. I was moved to tears, but I had to fight them back.

 One thing is for sure: she misses her children. She misses taking part of their trials and triumphs. She misses having been able to affect the lives of the kids she took under her wings.

 The future

An emotional blow of sadness is something I’m not particularly good at evading, or surviving, but Sister’s words were soft, caring, and loving. Her next words were promises – promises she has made to herself and to her family. These are the promises that keep her going.

 As I sat there, listening to her story, clinging on every word like the air I breathe, a well of love simply overflowed from the goodness of the Sister’s heart, washing away the sorrow she felt; washing away the sorrow in my being.

 Still the same “sister” from years past, these promises, these bolts of power, stem from her natural ability to love and care for people. She works for her family, and she is determined to see her plans come to fruition.

 However, saying “she works for her family” does not encapsulate the gravity by which she means this. It is easy to say one works for his/her family, but how easy is it, really, to work for a family you really were never part of?


Sister loves her family. I cannot explain that any further.

 I am someone who, as disgusting as it may seem or sound, does not believe that people are innately good, caring, and loving. I was wrong. Here with me, a woman with a rich, and deep, past, is the epitome of goodness and love.

 Her presence brings about particular warmth in the air that I cannot explain. I have to admit that it is comparable to the warmth and security one feels when his/her mother is around. This sister may be physically small, but her heart is as big and wide as an ocean.

 It is a great honor to have met her. It is a great privilege to have known her. It is an awesome opportunity to have heard her story.

 Ahora, te hablo directamente a ti, hermanita. Muchísimas gracias por haber compartido la historia de tu vida conmigo. Yo aprendí mucho de ti, y yo gané otros puntos de vista de la vida. Gracias por ser quien eres, y espero que nunca cambiarías. Que el Señor te bendiga con los deseos de tu corazón, y más.

The Problem with “Filipinas”


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Fantastic read! I couldn’t have said it any better myself.

Master Procrastinator

Some days ago, the Rappler published an article on a resolution made by the Komisyon sa Wikang Filipino (KWF) on the use of “Filipinas” instead of “Pilipinas”. Given both the odd timing of this news and my affinity for language, I thought the decision was rather… interesting.

I have no major qualms with the use of “Filipinas” itself, which is what our country is still called in Spanish. After all, it’s really just a matter of switching a “P” with an “F”. But a simple letter swap isn’t the only issue here, since the KWF has simultaneously discouraged the continued usage of both “Pilipinas” and “Philippines”.

What complicates the matter is the rationale behind the decision to deprecate the aforementioned pre-existing names, as well as the decision being decided unilaterally. That, I think, would inevitably lead to [more] confusion, which is ironically what the KWF was trying to dispel.

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