Engaged Twice

We are engaged! Yes, officially now. The ring that Allan gave me that night formalized his question and I, wearing it in my finger (proudly as I type my words here), reconfirmed my consent to, well, marry him.

We were already engaged even before he slid the ring in my finger. He already popped the question months before he purchased that band for a pre-wedding commitment. He asked, I said yes. He already had my affirmative reply during his “unofficial’ proposal and that, itself is a strong pledge of my love – stronger than the ring, I think.

I did not ask for the ring. I do not honestly think it was necessary. But he had a different viewpoint.

Let me recall what happened that night he proposed.

It was our first night in Baguio City together. I am not familiar with the place but I was too keen about this trip so I prepared an itinerary beforehand. We are going to 50’s Diner for our first dinner in the city according to that itinerary.

We dressed up. I wore a floral dress and a peach-pink cardigan to warm me up. But who am I kidding? I never thought Baguio City would be so cold in November! The cold would seep through my cardigan and into my skin. Allan asked if I brought anything else (which he called a jumper) than the cardigan but I told him it was all I got. He knew I could not be a warrior in the cold so he brought out his Hilfiger jacket and covered me with another layer. He put on a dark blue knit shirt and a pair of trousers. I was silently amazed with the charm he effected on me just donning that. He looked so handsome that night I lose my concern that he would freeze outside because I was wearing his jacket. He did not mind.

50’s Diner was not far from Microtel. It was jam-packed with diners that we have to wait to be seated. The restaurant has a vibrant atmosphere – with food orders shouted out and followed up, echoing laughter and exciting buzz of several groups of friends, loud music, and the noise of eating utensils. In fact, when we finally got our table, Allan and I can barely hear each other. We would often turn to our iPhones and gaze at each other. We fulfilled our mission that night nevertheless: we were full up when we left our table.

Allan was still up to going somewhere after dinner. He asked if we could go walking in a park nearby. But it was drizzling that night and the road, slippery. Besides, I have no idea where else to go especially at night. So I suggested we better return to the hotel which we did.

We reached our hotel room full in the stomach but apparently unsatisfied. So we both sat in silence on the sofa. It seemed like an understanding of what we needed that night: a peaceful, romantic night which we were deprived of during the dinner earlier. Moments later, I realized we were already talking about our families and about us. I never felt very comfortable talking and listening to him like that before: my head on his shoulder and his right hand entangled with my left hand. He came to that point asking me what if he asks me to marry him again. Looking up at him, the words came off naturally from my lips – I would say yes over again. He smiled and held my chin to kiss me and I let him. The next thing went so suddenly that when I opened my eyes several seconds after, he was already on his knees revealing the ring on his left palm. He said he should have done the ‘kneeling’ part months ago when he first asked me to marry him. Anyway, he popped the question again in proper form and with the ring. No, I did not gasp and cover my mouth in feigned surprise if that was what you were expecting. I expressed what I was feeling then with a tight embrace and a whispered ‘yes’. He let me go eventually so he can slid the ring in my finger.

Allan sat back beside me. He was apologetic that the proposal which he just did was not as exciting as the first one. I don’t think he understood. It was my first time to be presented a ring and a determined question about marriage by a man. It was my first ever time to feel that a man is taking me seriously, that I am someone’s ‘for keeps’. Allan brought me to yet another life’s purpose-realization moment that I actually have a significant existence on earth. I mattered, and that is one big exciting matter for me!

Now that I think about it, the ring may still not be necessary but it concretized Allan’s steadfast intent to have me as his partner for the rest of his life and my permission to be so. He said that the ring is important because he wants people to know that I am his. Need I say more? I wear the ring to flaunt what I also want the world to know: I am engaged to a man I truly love!

We were officially engaged November 6, 2010, two days before our anniversary. Allan was so worried he might misplace the ring if he waited two more days to propose.

Help me pray for our love to flourish!

Commission on Election or Correction?

Pissed. That was how I felt when I fled early to the polling precincts on the 2010 national election day, scanned my name eagerly on the voting list and nowhere was it found.  Pissed I was still when today I dropped by the COMELEC Municipal office, accompanied by Liway and Mac, and verified that my name is no longer in the active voters. Reason: Failed to Vote Twice (FVT). I cannot be in peace for I know I just voted in the 2007 Barangay Election. There must be some kind of a mistake, I thought. So I insisted, in my most courteous way, that I did vote during the elections prior to 2010. I think I heard a resistant sigh from the lady officer but the guy who checked on the database for my name was very polite to dig through the piles of papers to check. I was asked the 2nd time by the lady officer if I was sure I voted in 2007. I answered with a firm yes, even recounting who I voted for.  The guy returned with papers and looked for the file labelled with precinct 98a, skimmed through it and found my name. Before my name was my brother Christian Arc's, marked with FVT. Below his name was mine. Across my name were my fingerprints and signature. For crying out loud, I was still able to vote since 2007! Now who said I failed to vote twice?  The lady officer seemed dubious, she asked for the paper to check it herself if I was really able to vote. The guy passed it on and she kept silent for a while there. The last thing I'd ever like to hear her say when she opened her mouth again was to blame me for not coming to report it to her office at once. I thought I'd like to say something in rebuttal but kept myself composed instead. In fact, I told her in my utmost candor that it's not really a big deal for me now and that I could go back when the next registration starts.  At the back of my mind, solid neurotic matters are insisting it was not really my fault that some morons of this office mistook my name for my brother's and took me out of the voters list instead of him. And as if I didn't notice, she defensively backfired at me like it was my fault from the start. I would understand that people are prone to committing mistakes. Fine. But I was waiting for apologies or assentation, if its the most she could give, and failed. Tsk. Perhaps the COMELEC office in Bugallon might have to undergo some customer service workshop and some encoding refresher course. I'm not being self-righteous. Just a dissatisfied (again) public citizen.  I was advised to be updated about my status thru Mac. Let's see if they apply the necessary corrections for the next elections. God bless the Philippines!   

The Mistaken Call

I was with my friends at the beach, seriously talking about our lives' stuffs when ring-ring goes my phone. It reflected an unknown caller. It was around 5 o'clock in the afternoon which was a very unusual time for Allan to call so it really puzzled me if it was him on the other line. Still, I gladly answered my phone. I knew it was not Allan from the first word the caller mentioned: Tinao.

Someone close, I thought. When he said his name, I was ecstatic. Boy oh boy! I have not heard from him for ages! It was Rannie! Yes, the mistaken identity.

He called directly from Singapore. He called because he was worried I was not replying to his IMs. He called because he thought I was working in Singapore. He called to ask me how i'm doing. I was touched by his thoughts. He called because maybe, just maybe, I was worth talking his Singaporean dollars due for his phone bill.

The call lasted briefly for four minutes. Nevertheless, I think it was like sitting over a McDonald's value meal after hearing the novena mass at the Baclaran church. There were laughters and chismis (mostly about his love of his life). And yes, I never said it before, but if there was a boy version of me, it would be Rannie! Malandi. Haha!

For a while there, I forgot I am having problems. I had a mindshift for several minutes. Thanks Rann for the call!

I Have SCENE It 3: Sheryll Bayan

Seen: It's Sheryll Ann Rodriguez Bayan's birthday today. Such a sweet girl. Not to mention she's cuddly, bubbly, and beary, beary wonderful for a companion. Oops, typo errors. I meant, VERY, VERY.

Learnings: Patience. Kindness. Rationality. Imagine these virtues wrapped in a being named SHERYLL. Happy birthday little one! You are truly a God's blessing to LOGODEF. Funny how we can't label you as a goddess. Only a blessing. Kelangan ka ng Bayan, She!

Kiss Miss

Weeks after my Bohol trip with Allan, I could still excitedly recount the sights and the memorable tour activities we experienced. I was telling a friend all these but all she has got to ask me afterwards was, 'Okay, but did you two kiss?' I would have been offended if that question was coming from someone else. But well, this friend of mine, she has that skill to thresh out unnecessary details to get to the point. Uhm, most of the time, her leading questions would arrive at her preferred points. So I suppose, since she's just that, I should not mind. But to her question, I replied with a bow of embarrassment, closed eyes, coy smile, and a slow, affirmative nod. She was tickled pink. Too late to take that back; too late to think I divulged too much personal relationship information. Of course we kissed! And now is just one of those miserable times that I am missing his kisses. One kiss from him could vacuum ideas off and create rumbling noises in my head louder than my heartbeat. Or perhaps his kisses stop my heart from beating at all I could not even hear it skip. Crazy. That sums it all up. His kisses make me go crazy. Come home in eight weeks please and kiss this Miss. I love you.

If I Were Venus Raj

Venus Raj's major-major answer to the Q&A portion of the Ms. Universe 2010 pageant created some cosmic wave throughout the world. To some, it was a lame answer coming from a beauty queen who should have been already sifted and refined to have reached that level. To others, even unconvincing, suit themselves to saying it was a very hard question. Venus was labeled by many as 'just another pretty face' in the history of this insatiable-and-definitely-relative search for beauty. Can't blame this many. She really is beautiful! My friend instant-messaged me with the question: "What is the biggest mistake you made in your life and how did you fix it?" (I think the latter part went like: what did you do to correct it?) Well, I really did not attempt to put myself in Venus' shoes until my friend shot that question at me. There was not a time to think. I really thought I was in the pageant and the audience awaits for my brilliant answer. It made me feel smart to answer right away. No second thoughts. I knew it by heart that I did commit a lot of mistakes in the past and a few just hit the mark. If I were Venus Raj, I would have said:

My biggest mistake in my life was compromising my family and my dreams for the love and attention of a guy who I actually begged to stay with me even when I knew he didn't love me anymore. What did I do to correct it? I think the natural course of moving on helped. Besides, I no longer had a choice. It would have been too late to correct it. The damage has been done. The pain was irreparable. I guess, the mistake left me lessons though. I did spend more time with my family and picked up my shattered dreams. It's never too late to start with something.

I'm Broke, Not Broken

Earlier today I twitted, 'I know how it feels to only have 70 pesos in your wallet at the start of the week. It can't last you a week, but God only knows how.' It was a pathetic statement but I don't have enough room for self-pity. I posted it because I am challenged by the fact that I will be penniless in the next few days but I do not fear about not being able to live for the lack of money. I may be broke, but I'm not boken. My professor called this morning, alarmed at what he saw on Twitter. Egahd, I forgot he is following me there. I posted such thing on Twitter because I only have a few friends networked to me. My manner of shouting out loud could only happen on this blog, and well, Twitter. The last thing I would need is a comment from someone else that would put you down. In all fairness to my professor, thanks for the concern. Well, God provides. I always tell myself that. I still work, enjoying it in fact, only not financially rewarding. I think I have to gauge things smarter this time. I missed a few points about saying money is not everything. It may sometimes mean something though. If this means I should look for another job, I better start looking for one. God bless my endeavors.

What If I Die Today?

What if I die today? Will I be ready? Would i finally say It's over for my sorrow Over too for happiness? Now would I like it? If I had a choice, maybe no On second thought, maybe yes. Would my friends be crying? Would those I offended  Be rejoicing? Would my special someone Look up at the sky and say, 'Hello! How are you?' everyday If that happened,   I would no longer hear anyway. So if I die today I would not pass without a thought In this little way,  I have to say sorry first To those I failed, I hurt To those I badly disappointed To those I unintentionally offended. I did my best to show you Who I really am So if it's the bad me you sighted I'm sorry you missed the other Good half. Thank you to those Who made me glad for a time When you were able to draw A smile on my face Rather than paint a sad line You might not be aware But in every smile I wear My heart holds each dear I get to be so full of it I think I always have to share I love you Pa and Ma Don't think I was busy  Not to tell you. I love you, my brothers I love you aunts, cousins and uncles. I love you in-laws, nephews and nieces I love you classmates and colleagues. I love you old and new friends. I love you mentors, now and back then I love you my sweet, my love. I lived to love even those not listed above. It doesn't matter  If I don't hear you all reply Or attempt to make me smile One more time. Worry not about me Because I'll make sure You are well taken care of I will have to remind God When I met Him along the way.     

Opportunity Cost

You can earn all the money you want -when you're on vacation, or when you switch jobs, or even when you already retire. You can still earn money. But what are you earning your money for when you already lost me?

Sweet Escape

I was once warned (or was it several times) that I have to have my laptop checked for virus. And like the usual me, I never listened (or maybe I listened but did not budge). Well, it crashed just recently and the good thing is - no, count that the best thing, I was able to save some of my valuable files in my portable drive! And before my portable drive gets infected too, I might as well blog some files in case it becomes convenient to just pull them out later. Downside: it becomes conveniently available to triple-double-u too. Here's one I compiled and count as priceless. Whew! Saved before I could feel sorry for myself. Enjoy! Credits: Dumaluan Beach Resort for the accommodation Music by Natasha Bedingfield "Pocketful of Sunshine" Some photos from My Sweet

2010 Parish Priest Day

Just posting for sharing purposes. Ate Vilma, for your review and comments. My output for a very limited time. I'm coming home tonight and my laptop crashed so I used the office resources and time doing this. Tsk. Corrupt me, I feel so guilty! What way to compensate? *wink*

I Have SCENE It 2: Personal ID

Seen: Bored with just deep sea water and swelling waves meeting our boat on our way to Cagbalite Island in Quezon Province, (Yes, waves do not scare me even if I really cannot swim. I dwell on my body's bouyancy and divine providence should the boat capsize.) Manong Boatman's arm tattoo caught my attention. I should have called him by his Personal ID written on his arm, only I do not know how to pronounce it, I might embarrass myself. Learnings: Did someone ever tell you that each human is unique? And so are names maybe. A name is a reflection of one's individuality. Hmmm, I always thought the name 'Cristine' sounds pretty. (Ahk!)

I Have SCENE It 1: Vote Wisely

Seen: From a fan-flyer of a political candidate in my town. While I was reading his credentials, I have to reread it a few times. Then I gave up. You go figure. Learnings: Say what?! Make it simple, dude. Mind you, he won the elections topping the elected councilors list. Actions speak louder than -- words?! =================================================================== "I Have SCENE It" will be my photoblog -- catching momentous spirits, weird angles, funny captions and signs. This is not intended to mock at people, albeit degrade someone else's morale because of erroneous activities luckily 'scened' by my camera. That is why there is the 'Learnings' part. We are humans after all. Laugh at the photos if you like, then ponder later on.

Tears, Stop Falling

Tears, stop falling. I don't want them to know I'm hurting, I'm a weakling. Please stop falling. I don't want to lose the heart. I want to keep on trying. Tears, stop falling. You add up to my sorrows, This miserable feeling. Please stop falling. My dignity's at stake; I will keep on fighting. Tears, stop falling. I may not see tomorrow Yet I won't stop dreaming. Please stop falling. After this lonely night, Is another lovely morning. Tears, stop falling. My mistakes do not mirror The whole of my being. Please stop falling. I got to love myself more Than anyone living. Tears, stop falling.  There must be a good reason To explain everything. Please stop falling. Someone out there wishes To again see me smiling.

Grow Old -- With Your Wives, Men!

The acoustic guy is back on the stage as I write this entry. He is now singing Grow Old With You and I thought, how appropriate.  I can't help but think about the wives of dirty old men - these men who promised to grow old with their 'other half' but are still looking for 'another half'. This is not my first time. In fact, statistically speaking, this is my sixth. From my point of view, if I were under a case study, I would consider it a significant number, hence, not to be disregarded. Yes, I have had received six indecent proposals from six old married men! But owing to my parents' efforts to raise me as a decent and respectful individual, I always manage to say a firm 'No.'  What's with me? This is not to brag about being offered proposals such as this. But I really cannot help asking myself that. I don't know what they see in me. I maintain a safe distance from them all. Their age and socio-economic status are never dragging factors for me. I never give them special treatment. I treat them equals with my guy friends who never mistake me as someone to fall for, thank God! I don't understand at all. Maybe the age is not much helping them to discern that it isn't right to entertain the thought of dating another woman other than your wife. And maybe the status is not much of a help either because they're so full of it they think they can buy just any other woman! Well thank God I'm not just any woman! Thank God I'm never caught in a situation to hesitate and consider options! Because when you're faced to become a factor in destroying a family, there is no other option but to avoid being one. That option is the best solution.  Hmmm, the song came to its end now. It made me think again, 'Who could be that man who will grow old with me?'

Hypnotized

Okay, I know this sounds crazy but I still want to believe that 'faithfulness' is still on top of my priority values. But then again, when the strong force of temptation is right in front of you, displaying such allure and whispering angst of boldness, it becomes a difficult effort to resist. I'm talking about the new definition of temptation as: noun, of extinct species, tagged with such names as lee min ho, johnny depp, timothy olyphant, jerry yan, jason statham, robert pattinson, and allan alcantara I have to include the last name because you see, I see My Sweet at par with the celebrity-temptations on my list. Whenever, and when not, we are together, can't resist the urge to kiss him. (Oh no. Kiss and tell this is.) He's just my perfect leading man. I sure hope he's not an actor, egad! I need to get back to work and shut off this hypnotized mode I'm in. Argh. I miss My Sweet now.

My Room and My Self

For a couple of years of regularly coming home to the province, I chose not to sleep in my room. I occupied my brothers' room instead. At first, I only wanted a new-yet-familiar room. It gave me that exciting feeling but still welcoming. Until it became a habit.  Just recently, when I came home again to attend a friend's wedding the next morning, Mama told me I should sleep in my room. I asked why. Mama would probably say because it's my room yet she simply replied that she had the sheets in the other room cleaned. Funny that I have to ask why I should sleep in my room when it is my room. Suddenly, I realized that I learned to detach myself from what I own, what I have.  As I entered my room, I felt an old kind of warmth welcoming me. I looked around, nothing much has changed. Despite the fact that this room was often used by my sister-in-law and my niece when they visit the house, it still looks the way I remember it to be. My enlarged photo hanging above my dresser is still an eyecatcher. Posters of my favorite anime character - Sailormoon, remain stuck at my cabinet doors, badly faded. The Venetian blinds I used to play with while studying are slightly pulled up when I would have preferred them down. Except for the broken TV and the remote-controlled electric fan, everything stayed the way they used to be. I could tell from what I see and feel that I belong here. This is really my room. In analogy (here we go again), my returning to my room reflects a symbollic return to myself. After so much bemusing and wandering, trying new things and meeting new faces, learning and failing, it gives me much pleasure that I still have a grip of myself. Knowing myself creates this security in me. I may have gone to places, but when I'm lost and confused, I would just have to sit back and think of myself. Because myself is the only person I can rely on, love and help most. Myself is the only person who could help me. Sometimes I forget that significant fact. And sometimes I decide to forget myself and look for someone else to cling on to. Only in the end, o would only have myself. I still have to muster that so that everytime I would be challenged by this cruel world, I could easily drag my big self to face it.  Welcome back to your room, Tinao! Welcome yourself back.

The Proposal

Far the stretch of the shore

Enveloped by skies of darkness

Songs playing who knows what for

Breeze enfolding with tenderness

These things bring no less but more

To that moment when you professed

Your love underlining what’s in store

For both of us ahead, more or less

Was I only dreaming when you asked

‘Will you marry me?’ that night

Or did that moment came too fast

I thought I did not hear you right?

But in my heart, I felt, at last

My prayer’s granted tonight

Because it then came to pass

A love’s here to keep, if I might

No dreams, no movies, no fantasies

Would compare to how you made me feel

We danced, we embraced, then we kissed

You cried, I smiled, we would stand still

You told me this was your fervent wish

I thought I was born to make it real

So underneath the stars, I said, unease

‘Yes, I will marry you!” with a thrill!

I really don’t mind if you don’t have much

So long as you are there for me

To have and hold, or to get in touch

When miles away you are to me

Near or far, in cases as such

Of my love you are always worthy

For we share a love where two’s a match

And where a ring’s not much necessary.

- by Tinao | May 14, 2010

Sasabado Heat and Hits

It's one of the icky, inconvenient Saturdays of summer when I'm leaving my half-day period at work aboard an airconditioned bus. The plus of hopping in a public vehicle from Ayala at past half of noon: you get to choose your seat where you're most comfortable -- and where you get to avoid the aircon blast stiffening your hair and making you catch a cold when you get out. The long 45-minute trip back home would usually be an opportunity for me to get my nganga-sleep. You know, that kind of sleep when you're just too tired from work and you rest your head back and minutes after you're sleeping with your mouth open. Disgusting but natural. Deciding on how beautiful you would look while sleeping is not really one of the 'optional' things we have on earth. I was ready to doze off, until a Korean lady hopped in from Megamall. Let's call her 'Sasa', in reverence to this Korean lady who made my Saturday delightful. Sasa hopped in the bus but chose not to sit herself amidst the many vacant seats. She just stood beside the driver, held onto the rail while the bus drove on. The konduktor (he who collects the fare) told her that there are still many vacant seats at the back. Sasa replied 'I'm off at the next stop.' To which the konduktor said, 'Ano daw?' The guy next to me, in kindness, clarified what she said 'Bababa daw sya sa Ortigas.' To this the konduktor insisted that she take her seat and Sasa obliged. But then the driver was alarmed, the bus is taking the Flyover route, which means that it will take Sasa farther from Ortigas if she's off at the next stop rather than if she drops off before the Flyover. And so Manong Driver told the konduktor to tell Sasa to get down before the Flyover. To this, the obedient konduktor approached Sasa scratching his head and said, 'Ma'am, me up, you down!' The bus was immediately filled with the passengers' roaring laughter, including my own. The lady beside Sasa courteously explained that she has to get down or she'll walk farther going back. So Sasa got down. End of the story. It was a delight, not to be sarcastic, to hear the konduktor speak in English. According to him, he was caught in a do-or-die situation where he gave all he has got. He made all the efforts to communicate, no matter how others may think he was committing nonconformity to the subject-verb agreement. Screw that. What matters is he was able to relay his message, and Sasa, to an extent, understood the message. It counts to communicate. It brings you to where you want to go.

Mine!

Someday. Two months from now. Zero savings. Snap! Snap! Come to Mama.:)

Sweets from My Sweet

Two days before this lousy celebration of Valentine's Day (hehehe), and following my usual routine of going straight home after office, I received an alarming SMS from my brother which imperatively read "Sis, tawag ka." When you receive such a message, you begin to wonder if the sender is caught in a compromising situation and in dire need. He's my brother, so I rang. How stupid of me that at that moment it did not brush my head that my brother has this nature of spoiling things. The next few moments of speaking with him over the phone stripped off every element of a surprise being a surprise. He just told me I got a package and it's from Allan, my sweet. So the surprise idea was already transmitted to my brain. But as to the content of the package, it had me twitching in excitement and my head bleeding with guesses. I had one guess correct; the others in my mind bubbles just popped into thin air.

So cute and really sweet.

This one I guessed right but I never expected this much.

The Valentine presents filled my heart with gladness I felt it nearly exploding. Thank God it did not, but my tear ducts did. My sweet has his ways of making me feel loved amidst the distance. Thank you, Allan.

Because You Said So

In the past, before contracts were even invented and parties concerned learned to write their signatures on capsules or papers, people got to transact or deal with others by way of TRUST. There would only be verbal, undocumented agreements but still, there was such a thing called 'palabra de honor' or [so did my Spanish class taught me] word of honor. Up until today, you gain friends and more importantly, TRUST when you tell someone you would do something and you deliver it well. You keep your word. You do as you say. As a result, there is a harmonious relationship between parties -- you with your friends, brothers, sisters, parents, colleagues, or your partner. And what happens when you do not do as you say? There is a broken agreement. There is a created tension. There is disappointment, frustration. You give the other person a reason not to trust you the next time. In court, it's more or less called the breach of contract if everything was placed in paper. It's very frustrating. But when caught in unavoidable circumstances, there's always a way to make up even before you break an agreement, even before you come to that point of not fulfilling what you said. If you can say ahead of time that you cannot do what you said, you could tell the other person beforehand. And if you really can't avoid the occurrence of another urgent matter that would hinder you from keeping your word, you could negotiate afterwards and, compromise. I'm sorry. I'm feeling a little upset now. Goodnight.

My Valiant

I was google-ing for 'Lingayen Educational Center' when I came upon a link that features the death of Valiant, a very dear friend and classmate of mine from high school. Then it brought back so many fond memories of us in high school -- mostly I would imagine him beaming and could not stop himself from smiling or giggling. The memories are so Valiant-like.

His name was Richard Valiant Correa [Primicias].

U.S. TO GIVE FULL MILITARY HONORS TO FIL-AM SOLDIER KILLED IN IRAQMANILA, JUNE 14, 2007 (STAR) - The US government will provide full military honors to Filipino-American Army Sgt. Richard Valiant Correa, who was killed in Iraq, during his burial in his hometown of Lingayen in Pangasinan tomorrow. Correa, 25, was killed by an improvised explosive device during a dismounted patrol near Ilbu Falris in Iraq last May 29. Correa served in Iraq under the 10th Mountain Division of the US Army’s 2nd Brigade Combat Team, based in Fort Drum, New York. “In recognition of his valor and dedication, Sergeant Correa will receive posthumously the Bronze Star Medal, which is the fourth highest US military award for gallantry in action, as well as the Purple Heart Medal,” the US Embassy said in a statement. US Brig. Gen. Harvey Landwermeyer, assistant division commander (support) of the 2nd Infantry Division, Korea, and a funeral honor guard from the 8th Army Korea, together with military representatives from the US Embassy, will attend Correa’s burial. Correa was born in the Philippines on May 20, 1982. He spent two years of his early childhood in the US, then returned to Lingayen and in 1999, graduated from the Lingayen Educational Center. At 17, he moved back to the US and starting in 1999, served in the US Air Force for four years. In July 2004, he re-enlisted in the US Army. – Pia Lee-Brago

http://www.newsflash.org/2004/02/hl/hl105756.htm

Tonight I Cry In Silence

My pains, my troubles

I whispered to the darkness

'Cause your absence doubles

My hunger for happiness.

The darkness always replies in silence

And embraces me with sympathy.

It eagerly awaits and listens

Whenever I want company.

For what use are words

If we are worlds apart?

What significance is a call

If we haven't much time to share, from the start?

I'd like to tell you everything

That bothers my mind and soul.

But I end up saying nothing

Unsure if I can trust you at all.

If I tell you now, would you listen?

Would you even care?

Or would you probably hasten

'Cause they're calling you out there?

Another day, another night

I always wait in vain.

But I also always try to fight

With all my might, the pain.

For what more is painful than not

Having you here beside me?

When you are the only one I got

who knocks me off completely?

So tonight I cry in silence

And whenever there's no you.

I tell the darkness, in pretense

That tomorrow I'll be with you.

-- Tinao

Cardology

Cardology - the art of making my heart melt by simply sending me cards -- in a surprising or clue-ing manner.

Traditional, yes, but when I receive cards from loved ones, my heart goes giddy-ly happy and sings shalah-heh-shalah!

I got this really special card from Allan for Christmas. Only it arrived a little late for last Christmas or a little early for this year. It does not matter because I super love the card! It has our photo on the front cover which I think is so sweet and the words inside were just, ah, perfect to take my breath away.

Thank you, Allan. I still think you're the sweetest thing on earth. Sweeter than chocolate.

How to Eat Pandesal with Hot Choco

When confused, food naturally becomes a good company in lieu of, well sometimes, a person. That's why they coin something called 'comfort food'. Exactly what, food gives you comfort.

On my way to work today, I passed by a store which sells pandesal (the traditional bread of Filipinos which means 'bread of salt', thanks to my Spanish clas s in college). The store is called The Bread Bag. It opens as early as 7:00 AM. I looked at their menu, and I felt greedy instantly. I must be really hungry. :)

So how to best eat pandesal? With HOT CHOCO! Coffee will do too! 1. Pandesal in the bag for sealed freshness and the hot choco to match it.

2. Hot and healthy. It's wheat pandesal!

3. Break thy bread, share if you may!

4. And now the best part: Dip it! Yummy!

Enjoy pandesal everyday.

New Beginnings

Anytime is always a time to begin if you want to. But the New Year is a classic point of hoping, planning, and deciding to make things anew or simply welcoming changes. I cannot believe it's 2010 already. It seemed like it was only yesterday when I resolved to be a better and not a bitter person. I told myself I would be forgiving and ever-learning. I committed to enjoy my life each day, and not to expect things about tomorrow because it might not come. These were what I had on mind when I welcomed 2009. Now that 2010 is here, I still want to become a better, forgiving, and ever-learning person. I still do not want to expect about tomorrow, but rather, carpe diem! Expect not, keep hopeful. Add a little faith, if that is the most I can do. Stick to my family and swarms of true friends -- those people who stuck with me unsolicitedly especially when I was wretched and lost. Late last year, I took another shot at love, sure. But there is nothing wrong with loving myself more, which I do now. There is nothing wrong with protecting oneself -- it is the most basic human instinct. Besides, if I did not learn from my past [terrible] experience, I do not know if I could still count myself human. Father Bok cited me as an example during his Homily last night. [He did not mention my name though.] He recounted how I would cry with so much emotional baggage when asked about my former boyfriend. But even in between sobs, with so much faith, I told him that everything's not yet finished. The best is yet to come. He told his audience that, now that 'she' [referring to me] has a new boyfriend who is abroad, she apparently is happier. He added that the new boyfriend makes her happy. Father Bok's statement makes me want to stand up and certify that fact. People with me at the choir's nook would glance and smile at me. They knew I'm on the grill. It does not bother me though. It is not finished. Live. Laugh. Love. Make each new beginning hopeful and do not stop till victory is at hand. God is faithful! Happy New Year!