They toured me around Brisbane and made the one big thing I wanted to do before I conclude my Australian trip: to see the kangaroos and koalas. And what a great time we had together!

Today I received a heartwarming message from Ng Ercelle (the mother) via Facebook. This made my day despite my not feeling well today.

Hi Joni,

Si Manang mo ni.

I just want to share with you the latest with our 2 kids. You have been part of their lives and I hope you’ll be blessed with their lives as well as they have been with yours.

We have been trying to teach these two the importance of prayer thus when they ask for toys or anything that we need to buy, we always tell them to pray about it. It might take days or weeks or months for us to buy whichever they have asked for (kay ga pray man kmi tagaan kmi ni Lord pang buy! LOL). [translation: we're also praying that God will gift us the capacity to buy.]

One time, your manong and the kids went out and naturally they end up in the toy section. Ethan found a toy he really liked. He asked his papi for it. It was a little bit expensive than what your manong was ready to spare. So he told Ethan that he should pray and ask Jesus about it. Ethan kept on holding the toy. So his papi had to ask him to put back the toy in the shelf and just to pray about it. He kept on holding on the toy. Your manong was ready to tell him the 2nd time to put it back. He then replied, just wait papi, I’ll pray. Then he closed his eyes and was still for a moment. Then he returned the toy back in the shelf and said, I’m done papi. Let’s go.

The incident made my eyes water and felt so proud of him and grateful to God. If I felt that much love towards my son, how much more loved are we by the Father above?

Erryl loves reading. Your Manong and I decided we will buy her her own devotional appropriate for her age. Since we bought her the devotional, she spends time reading it and telling me about what she had learned. At times, she asks her Lola about things she didn’t understand. One time, she brought me a list. She said, mom, these are the things I was praying for. I thought, as a kid, toys or things she wanted to have would be the first things she would have written. To my surprise, she wrote there: people without food and home, children, better schools, Mrs. Chye’s baby (this is her pregnant teacher) and other things. Not one was about her or her wants or needs. As a mother, this brought me to my knees. In this cruel and selfish world, I prayed that my kids will be equipped enough not just to survive but to shine for the Lord. I have learned so much from my kids what God is like. I hope you did, too.

We all miss you.

Blessings,
Manang

The kids she’s talking about are these two adorable ones with me on the next picture. Ethan is four, Erryl is seven.

Their family is such an inspiration to me. They live a simple life in Australia yet they’re so close, and happy, and loving toward each other. The kids are disciplined and very obedient. They are very makulit but one stern look from their mother or father and they behave instantly, haha. I must have asked Nang Ercelle and Nong Tisoy a hundred times how exactly are they bringing up their kids, I want to know their secret! Lol. I am so in love with this family. Given the chance, I would go back and visit them again.

This is what I ask God to give me someday — a loving, Christ-centered family. Granted this, I won’t ask for anything else. Yes, at 26, it’s normal for me to think this way.

The truth is, I am grateful. I’m grateful for the turns my life has taken so far.

Growing up, my dad provided us a good life. I was even teased for being a spoiled brat Papa’s girl when I was young. We were not rich, yet we had enough. But all of that changed just before I entered college, which was probably the second most trying time in our lives (the first being my father’s death). Thankfully, I was given a 100% scholarship in college and by God’s grace I was able to graduate on time. After I graduated, I swore to work my way up even though I saw that it’s not going to be an easy journey.

True to His promises, God has been faithful to me. I believe He directed my paths all my life and I absolutely have nothing to complain about. I am grateful for the challenges I have taken, the hardships I have to endure, and the rejections I have to push myself to move forward from, which brought me to this place I’m in – right here, right now. I don’t resent my parents for what happened to the status of our family (though I may have at one point in my life or another for I was also an angsty teenager once) because whatever happened to us only pushed me to become a better version of myself. I didn’t ask either of my parents to step up, but resolved to work harder to provide for them. I didn’t feel bad that, all of a sudden, the youngest child in the family became the breadwinner.

I am proud of the things I have done for my family and for myself. It brings me so much joy that I have been able to give back to them for the past five years. I got really close to tears when my mom told me that my dad once mentioned that he was happy because he thinks I inherited my being gutsy from him (I hope I make you proud, pop!). All the sacrifices I have made has paid off, especially now that we have a home that we can really call our own. The last time we had a property was probably when I was in sophomore year in high school.

I’ve come a long way to be where I am, and I wouldn’t trade my experiences (and the sense of fulfillment I have gained) for a life still dependent on my parents, who by now would be close to retirement had circumstances allowed them to go back to work. I have a lot of feelings toward the journey I’m taking, but bitterness is not one of them. So more than the tension and boredom I often feel about my job, I am actually grateful for all the blessings and for the ability God has given me to earn a living to provide for both my mom and me. I can’t ask for more, but I am excited for the things He is yet to unfold. After all, I’m only twenty-six.

On a slightly related note, I think I’m developing asthma this late in life. I can only guess why I’m having a hard time breathing these days — literally. The imaginary “asthma” is probably caused by my wrestling session with God (think Jacob). I am close to being defeated, now I must learn to accept my defeat with grace.

Above is the page I found in a 16-year-old notebook of mine. I distinctly remember tearing out the pages of this diary and throwing them out (Because I’m very private when it comes to my journals. Even after I’m dead, I don’t want anyone reading them.) so I was so surprised that one page actually survived. And what surprised me even more are the things I wrote in it:

• Today I’m dieting for I want to make my waist small. >>> Already waistline-conscious at the age of ten? I almost can’t believe it.
• I’ve listened to the radio but the songs are for God. >>> I wonder if I really had something against “songs for God” then. I doubt it.
• This afternoon I’m going to buy the cloth that I’m going to use for the Foundation Day. >>> Good for you, ten-year-old self. I bet your adviser has been pressuring you to get that shirt you’ll be wearing on Foundation Day.
• I don’t have something to tell anymore but I promise next time I’ll be serious. >>> If this journal entry isn’t “serious” , I don’t know what is!

I’m gonna forgive my ten-year-old self for her dullness and poor grammar, but for now let me go back to her first point: going on a diet.

I honestly don’t recall pressuring myself to lose weight at the very young age of ten, but looking back, I think whatever I did was effective. I was at my skinniest when I was eleven (one year after I wrote that journal entry) as evidenced by my grade school graduation pictures. Now I’m starting to think Joni@10 is much more disciplined than Joni@26. Good job, ten-year-old self!

Today – at the point wherein my metabolism has slowed down big time – it is so difficult to shed some pounds! Gym hasn’t been the answer for me (though I’ve tried it twice before) because I’m too lazy to get off my way. And for someone who’s juggling two jobs, losing almost 2 hours every night that’s supposed to be for freelance work just doesn’t seem right. (Excuses, excuses.)

So this year, I tried another approach to this weight loss thing. Contrary to what they say about “New Year’s Resolution” being just a pathetic excuse, the commitment I set myself to do beginning January 1st actually worked for me. From a whopping 120 pounds at the start of the year, my weight went down to 110 pounds after two months. I still have flabby arms and belly, but I noticed I’m fitting into my old jeans and blouses again. And people I haven’t seen for a while are noticing the change (I think this is the best indication that it’s working). Mind you, I had to work really, really hard to achieve this. This is no easy feat. Hee.

I realized that I had to do several things to lose weight and not just one thing in particular. Here are the rules I was very strict on myself for two months:

1. No carbs. Yes, that means no rice, no bread (not even wheat bread) and no pasta. The only carbs I ate were sweet potatoes or kamote (but not a lot) and SkyFlakes Fit crackers (this is what I substitute for rice). I received a lot of comments on this “diet”, mostly negative ones, and a lot of teasing but I just ignored them all. Eventually, my workmates and my family just got used to the fact that I don’t eat rice that they didn’t find it weird anymore.
2. No sodas and juices. Not even Coke Zero and those low calorie drinks. I also stayed away from iced tea, lemonade, etc. Pure pineapple juice was an exception for its fiber content.
3. No sweets. I temporarily bade farewell to desserts: cakes, doughnuts, ice cream, etc. But I didn’t deprive myself of frozen yogurts.
4. No junk food. Soda, cake, pizza, hamburger and French fries are obviously in this category, but I’m also talking about chips or chichiria (V-Cut, Potato Chips, Roller Coaster, and Tortillos are my favorites).
5. Drink 2-3 liters of water a day. This seems easy enough. Though I tried not to go over 3 liters because they say excessive water in the body may wash away the vital salts in our system.
6. *Herbalife. To boost our body’s metabolism early on, it’s important to eat in the morning. And since I’m not used to having full breakfast meals, Herbalife shake is the perfect food supplement and it kept me feeling full for a few hours before lunch. For faster results, sometimes I also replaced dinner with an Herbalife shake.
7. Exercise. This one doesn’t need much explanation, but I just want to share the specific exercise I did. I tried Hip Hop Abs, TaeBo, jogging, and elliptical trainer last year but they just didn’t exhaust me enough to actually build muscles that will burn fats. So I switched to the workout my bestfriend recommended: the *ChaLEAN Extreme. This is the best exercise for me because it causes me to sweat so much that after the 30-minute workout I look like I’ve just stepped out of the rain and got my hair and clothes wet. The Chalean exercise uses weights so the process of fat-burning, in my opinion, is faster.

After two months of torture, I cut myself some slack since I’m already seeing results. I’m still sticking to the things I listed above but I’m not as strict on myself anymore (I personally can’t resist Yang Chow fried rice. And we all know tuyo+sardinas is best paired with sinangag!) I also stopped working out from March to May because I was staying at my brother’s place (technically, I was camping in his living room) with four other people in the house. So from the month of March to present, I’m stuck at 110 pounds – which is actually fine since I also didn’t gain anything. Effective June 1st though, I started working out again (except weekends) and I hope to take my diet seriously again. My goal is to lose another 5 pounds in the next 40 days but that seems impossible now since I’m no longer an 18-year old girl. Lol, good luck!

Care to share your weight loss tips?

*These are not sponsored links!

If you’re following the TV series, LOST, there’s no doubt you know who John Locke is. John Locke’s background is a sad one, which is why every time they feature his story in an episode my heart really goes out to him. I was even close to tears when he died in the series (but then he came back to life so yay). But why, do you ask, am I so affected by this John Locke character? The truth is, he reminds me of my father.

Obviously, Papa is not Caucasian – duh. I can’t explain what it is exactly but I find the lines, creases, and scruffy facial hair on John Locke’s face similar to Papa’s. They kinda have the same smile, too. I’m guessing they’re around the same age (mid 50s).

LOST is now back in circulation for the 6th and final season which means I’m gonna see more of John Locke. With that I can at least imagine my father walking and talking again. Hee. Creepy, huh.

It’s Papa’s first death anniversary today. It’s hard to believe that it’s been 365 days that he’s been away from us. Mama and I usually talk about how it feels like Papa is just away on vacation in Bacolod and that we’re waiting for him to come back any day now. I guess that’s our way of coping, but it doesn’t necessarily help us move forward. I trust that time will.

I still believe with all my heart that I’m gonna see him again.

See you soon, old man.

But when your life suddenly takes a turn (one that may involve leaving the house you grew up in and moving to a whole other island) you find yourself in a situation wherein you have to choose to either let go of the useless junk or take them with you. In my case, I let it all go. Because even in letting go of the useless junk, it somehow teaches you how to move on.

When I moved permanently to Manila, I’ve managed to hoard a whole new set of worthless crap. Because, really, old habits die hard. After a certain period of time, I again found myself stuck with too many unnecessary things (boxes, papers, clothes with stains or rips, worn-out shoes and slippers, old bags, hair clips, ribbons, paper bags, bottles of old lotion and cologne, receipts, containers of different sizes, key chains, jewelry boxes, scrunchies that have lost their elasticity, USB cables, incomplete set of crayons, pens with no ink, etc.) that I can’t seem to let go and are only causing clutter in my little world. I’ve moved apartments six times in the last four years, and every time I move, I always accumulate junk in boxes that I need to throw or give away. Disposing of these objects is kind of symbolic, you see. Saying goodbye to the old ways, and welcoming the new. I figured that if I don’t do it, I’m never gonna be able to declutter my life. Yes, my life. Because having a messy bedroom says a lot about a person! Lol.

Not that I’m not messy now. I still am. My apartment is a haven of disorderliness but I think I’m doing a whole lot better than before. And I have an easier time disposing of things now.

In fact, I sold two mobile phones this week that I no longer use. Before, this would be something that will stress me out because I hate letting go of personal things. But today it’s easier for me to do so. I don’t even have problems with the idea of selling my iPod Touch that’s only 7 months old.

I know that I’m just putting too much drama in this (haha), but I guess my point is, sometimes we reach a point wherein we feel that we’re actually stepping up one level in the maturity ladder while minimizing sentimentality a bit. More importantly, we are able to decide that we no longer want to be held back by our fear of losing personal possessions. If we can move on from little things, it won’t be long until we can move on from bigger things, in some cases, from people who were previously part of our lives.

I’ve figured out the reason behind this: I want to hear sounds before falling asleep and while I’m asleep. Strangely I prefer the sound of people talking than music. If I do not do this “ritual” I catch myself thinking about many things that bother me and in the process, these thoughts prevent me from falling asleep easily. Unless I’m too tired to think, this is what I do every night to make sure I get a good night’s rest. Especially now that I’m all alone in a small apartment. You don’t want to hear creepy noises when you’re by yourself too, do you?

From 11:00pm onwards, after I’m done working on my freelance projects, I always watch a movie or two. I don’t know why that is but I’m really more into films and TV series than listening to music (I’m so outdated I’ve only heard of “Nine Inch Nails” when I learned about their upcoming concert here in Manila). The main reason I bought that external hard drive was so I can have something to store all my movie files in. And I know it’s not the noblest thing to do, but I download movies everyday so I have something to watch at night (you might say that I’m abusing my laptop, yes). I’m not even referring to movies that had just been released but old ones.

Over the last few weeks, I’ve been brainstorming for movie titles to add to my collection. These are movies that I’ve seen years ago and would love to see again. Most of these are Rom-Com, cos I’m simply a sucker for that. Here are my recommendations in no particular order:

• Bedazzled
• Blast From The Past
• Fools Rush In
• The Whole Nine Yards
• The Whole Ten Yards
• The Terminal
• If Only
• Serendipity
• A Beautiful Mind
• There’s Something About Mary
• A Cinderella Story
• The Kid
• Anger Management
• Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind
• Coyote Ugly

… among others! Aren’t sappy old movies the best? Currently enjoying the TV series “Chuck”, too. I’d love to know your recommendations. =)

But for some reason, I discarded this plan. Maybe I was thinking about how much the trip would cost me especially during a time that I was saving for the rainy days. True enough, the “rainy days” began the day my dad was brought to the hospital last year. I could keep telling myself now that not pushing through with the trip was a good move because of all the unexpected expenses that came pouring in, but I can’t help feeling sad and regretful. I should have pushed through with the plan! It would have been a memorable experience not only for Papa, but for Mama and I. Never mind how much it would have cost, money can always be obtained.

But I just let the chance pass, didn’t I? I only have myself to blame.

During that trip to Hong Kong with Mae last month, I kept thinking about Papa and how much he would have enjoyed exploring the city. Everywhere we went, I’d imagine his joyful reaction to everything. I got sentimental the most when we dined at a real Chinese restaurant in Temple Street to try out real Chinese food. I’m positive my dad would have loved it!

Today is Papa’s 55th birthday. I miss him everyday. If I could go back to last year and make his 54th birthday more special, I would. But I know he wouldn’t be happy to know that I’ve been feeling this way since he left. There really is no use crying over spilled milk, but what happened has taught me to embrace opportunities as they come.

Chances are so hard to come by and the second one is impossible to find.

My cousin, Tata, who traveled all the way from Virginia, was here two weeks ago for the pamamanhikan they did in Pangasinan. He’s marrying his fiancee on 10/10/2010. His brother, Siote, flew in from Bacolod to spend time with Tata and their mom. In their very short stay in Manila, we took them to Bonifacio High Street, SM Mall of Asia, Tagaytay, and Wensha Spa. Funny trivia: My two brothers, Tata, and Siote were my only playmates back in the days. It’s not a mystery how I turned out this way!

The next weekend, the Manabat Family went to Fontana for an overnight stay before my uncle goes back to the Middle East. The sun was not shining then but I still got the tan lines! Love it.

My niece and godchild, Gracielle, is just the cutest! For a kid who’s just a year old, she’d pose for the camera every time you point it at her. She’s very sweet and she hardly ever cries. I wish my kid would be just like her! Read: not a brat.

Did you notice? My little cousins, nephews and nieces could easily be mistaken as my kids! I’m so old.

But the truth is, I was (I am) extremely affected by it. I was just happy to see friends who came to extend their condolences that I was more concerned with showing them how much I appreciate them than making them feel uncomfortable. I’m not one to go hysterical in front of people so when I faced my friends at the hospital and at the funeral, I had to be strong and put on a smile. A friend of mine almost didn’t speak to me because she didn’t know what to say. I just told her that I understood, there’s no need to worry.

The truth is, I can no longer count the times I’ve cried over my Dad. But let me try:

I cried in the hospital that day in December when the doctor broke the news that Papa has stage 4 cancer. I cried when he was discharged from the hospital the next day and that night when I kept myself up because I wanted to watch over him while he slept. I cried while I was surfing the web reading articles about Lung Cancer and how to combat it. I cried whenever I saw him throw up the food he ate or when he had to hold on to the wall, the table, the fridge or anything solid because his headache was too intense he would fall over if he didn’t hold on to something. I cried during those times he would not eat due to lack of appetite and because he was too weak to get up. I cried on Christmas eve and Christmas day because I feared it would be our last Christmas together. I cried that night when he lost consciousness and we had to rush him to the hospital again. I cried the next night and kept whispering his name while I was forcing myself to go to sleep. I cried in the hospital when I saw him opening his eyes yet he didn’t recognize me. I cried when he finally regained consciousness and tried to say my name. At this point, I tried to tell him everything I wanted to tell him. That I love him so much, that I will miss him, that I will do my best to make him proud, that I will see him someday. I cried that day when he couldn’t open his eyes anymore. I cried a few times at my brother’s wedding because I kept thinking about him and Mama who would have wanted to be there. I cried on January 29 when I whispered to him that it was my birthday. In the morning of February 5, while I was watching over him in the hospital by myself, I cried when the doctor informed me his blood pressure had dropped to 70/40 and that “it’s not looking good”. I cried when a few minutes later I glanced his way to discover that he had stopped breathing. I cried when the nurse touched my arm and told me she was sorry for my loss. I cried when my brother came just before they took his body away. I cried when I saw Papa’s body in a gurney wrapped in white blanket. It’s a scene I only see in movies and TV shows. I cried when I saw his casket from afar the first time, and even more when I saw him in it. I cried when the boyfriend cried because he felt like he also lost a Dad. I cried that time we all flew to Bacolod City — me, my mom, and my brother were in the plane’s cabin while my Dad’s remains was in the cargo area. I cried when I delivered a brief eulogy before his burial. I cried during the burial. I cried the first day I went back to work when I realized I had to do move on with life and make things go back to “normal” (only, it will never be the same). I cry every now and again, especially at night or when I see his pictures and read his text messages on my phone.

I’m crying right now as I’m typing this.

It’s been a month since my Dad died, and yes, I know this post is late. Maybe you’re wondering about how I’m able to blog about trivial things (like broadband dongles and weddings) yet I can’t even blog about a major happening in my life such as my Dad’s passing. The truth is, there is no easy way to put everything that has happened into writing. It’s pain I could never have imagined. At least I was able to write this entry, huh? But look, I can’t even come up with an appropriate post title!

What triggered me to finally write this post is when I learned about FrancisM‘s death. He was only 44 years old! I am not really a fan of his but I am bothered by his early death. The “age” at which people die matters to me a lot these days. For one, I find it unfair that my Dad was only 54 years old when he died, while other Dads reach up to age 70, 80, or even 90.

But in the eulogy I gave during my Dad’s funeral in Bacolod I told everyone that I look at my Dad’s death in two ways. One, that I just lost a father. This is the selfish side of me obsessing about what I am missing and would be missing now that he’s gone. He was a lifetime’s worth of memories cut short and now all I would be adding to that are “what could have been’s”.

And two, my Dad is now free from the cruel hands of cancer and he is now in a better place where he’s having the time of his, er, after-life. Hee. I always try to think of number two.

This is my attempt to write about how painful my father’s death was. But, really, this still does not justify it. My heart goes out to the children of the late FrancisM…

Tada! A SUN mobile broadband. It was Mae who introduced this to me last December, and so after I got my Globelines account terminated, I went straight to a SUN Shop, demoed a unit, signed up for an account, then took it home with me (yeah, I’m that impulsive). The SUN people told me it would take less than 24 hours to get activated, but that didn’t happen. It finally started working a few hours ago while Mae and I were at Riz‘s place. This was 32 hours later.

The connection? So far, so good! But I’m keeping my fingers crossed cos we all know how crappy Sun Cellular’s signal can get, which is not far from happening with their 3G or broadband service too. But at least I’m not stuck in their 24 months lock-in period since I opted to pay for the dongle in full (P2,500). Monthly unlimited use is P799.

I appreciate Riz and Mae for “celebrating” my birthday with me last night (I don’t mind that it’s one day late). Thanks for surprising me with a slice of cake + candle!

Past birthdays: 21, 22, 23, 24. (Ugh, I’m old).