i'd complain about dinner with the in-laws, but i'd be a hypocrite.

Dinner at Patrick's parents' house. Mung bean sprouts, beefsteak with onions, okra with bagoong and our contribution of chicken noodle soup. Served with steamed rice, naturally, as any Filipino household would.

Dinner conversation revolved around prospective car purchases, then on to neighboring community developments and the houses of interest. And damn if the first thing I did when I got home wasn't to log on the ebby.com and check out a few listings myself.

ps-

i'm shocked that I haven't blogged in a week. I've still taking mental notes daily, tho.

first "Define" class

have gotten a little bored with my workout regimen. Tried out a strength training class today: 45-minute total body workout, followed by 15 minutes abs focus. Kept messing up. Bone tired, glad it's over, yet happy for the much-needed departure from the usual.

Went back to Fred's (Philly cheesesteak place) again, for lunch with Kedric, Faith, Mike, and Rob. Something about the sandwiches doesn't agree with my stomach. I dunno; I even forewent the cheese this time. Anyway.

Tomorrow's plans include a lime chili Maruchan for lunch while I either continue reading the thought-provoking "Beauty Myth" or get some proofreading practice in, and step class after work.

the traveler

In less than two weeks' time I will be in Seattle, arriving just in time to see my dad get inducted president of the Fil-Am association. I will revisit old haunts, enjoy my mom's cooking, introduce my own cooking and breathe in the scent of pine trees and coffee and the sea.

After two weeks I will return to Texas, hoping to have been dearly missed. There will be a birthday party that evening, for Patrick's aunt. Wala lang. It just seemed kinda cool; there's a party wherever I go, whenever I arrive.

The Right Questions

Currently reading:
The Right Questions: Ten Essential Questions to Guide You to an Extraordinary Life
by Debbie Ford

Salient points: The Right Questions

1. Will this choice propel me toward an inspiring future… or will it keep me stuck in the past?
You are either moving forward or you are moving backward. There is no middle ground.

2. Will this choice bring me long-term fulfillment… or will it bring me short-term gratification?
It is vital that we recognize and tend to our unmet needs, lest they drive us to forsake our long-term vision in favor of short-term gratification. Allow yourself to give up something you want, for something you want more.

3. Am I standing in my power… or am I trying to please another?
In order to stand fully in our own power, we have to become comfortable with confrontation. We have to give ourselves permission to rock the boat and make waves. We must trust that it is more important that we stand up for ourselves than that we gain the approval of others.

4. Am I looking for what’s right… or am I looking for what’s wrong?
Finding fault with others is the lazy person's out. By focusing on what's wrong, we avoid taking responsibility. Looking for what's right opens our hearts and allows us to live in a state of gratitude for what we have.

5. Will this choice add to my life force… or will it rob me of my energy?
We are either growing or dying, expanding for contracting. Our life force is our connection to our passion and our vitality. When our life force is strong we exude the brilliance and beauty of our true nature.

6. Will I use this situation as a catalyst to grow and evolve… or will I use it to beat myself up?
"Life is a teacher to the wise man, and an enemy to the fool."

7. Does this choice empower me… or disempower me?
When you make choices that empower you, you experience a deep inner knowing that you are exactly where you need to be. When you are moving full speed in the direction of your desires, taking action, letting go, and being in perfect alignment with the universe, you are empowering yourself and your life.

8. Is this an act of self-love… or is it an act of self-sabotage?
When you love yourself you feel worthy and deserving of claiming the gifts of this world. It gives you the confidence to stand up and ask for what you want. It means making choices that you feel good about on a day-to-day basis...being proud of your choices and your actions.

9. Is this an act of faith… or is it an act of fear?
Fear shuts us down, while faith opens us up. If we choose to live in faith, we will be blessed with the support and the partnership of the universe.

10. Am I choosing from my divinity… or am I choosing from my humanity?
We all have the ability to access our divinity and share it with the world. Coming from the perspective of our divinity means that we consciously access the highest place within ourselves before making choices that will affect ourselves, others, and the world.

I have an almost-dream

A remembered image, really. I come across myself maybe just debarking a flight at the airport, or maybe on my way home from a party. The air is chilly, the lights distant, and I am slightly breathless, but smiling. My hair is glossy black, in chic short layers, my skin glows and my parted lips lined crimson. I'm wearing a little black dress and my unseen heels click importantly on the pavement.

I am successful and gorgeous, but most importantly, I am happy.

be still, my heart.

Red.
Patent.
Snakeskin.
Manolo Blahnik.
Mary-Jane pumps.
!!!

$645 at Neiman's. Via Shoewawa.

La Tortura (English translation)

I can't get enough of this song. The lyrics are poetic and cutting and earnest and funny. The song is composed by Shakira and Luis Ochoa. The video is has a silly tribal thing going on, and isn't the most flattering choreography-wise, but you can't have everything. Here's the translation:

THE TORTURE (Shakira feat. Alejandro Sanz)

[Sanz:]
Oh my love
Keep your poetry
Keep your happiness for yourself

[Shakira:]
I’m not asking that every day be sunny
I’m not asking that there be a party every Friday
Nor do I ask you to come back begging forgiveness
If you’re crying with dry eyes and speaking of her

Oh my love, it hurts so much

[Sanz:]
Hurts so much

[Shakira:]
That you left without saying a word
My love, it was torture
Losing you…

[Sanz:]
I know I haven’t been a saint
But I can make it up to you

[Shakira:]
Man does not live on bread alone
And I don’t live on excuses

[Sanz:]
We only learn from our mistakes
And today I know my heart is yours

[Shakira:]
You better save that for yourself
Take that bone to some other dog and let’s say goodbye

I can’t ask winter to spare a rose bush
I can’t ask an elm tree to bear pears
I can’t ask the eternal of a mere mortal
And go about casting thousands of pearls before swine

[Sanz:]
Oh my love, it hurts so much, it hurts so much
That you no longer trust my promises

[Shakira:]
Oh my love

[Sanz:]
It’s a torture

[Shakira:]
Losing you

[Sanz:]
I know I haven’t been a saint
But I can make it up to you

[Shakira:]
Man does not live on bread alone
And I don’t live on excuses

[Sanz:]
We only learn from our mistakes
And today I know my heart is yours

[Shakira:]
You better save that for yourself
Take that bone to some other dog and let’s say goodbye

[Sanz:]
Don’t go, don’t go
Oh my love look, don’t get angry
From Monday to Friday you have my love
Give Saturday to me and you’ll be better off
Oh my love, don’t punish me anymore
Without you I have no peace
I’m just a repentant man
I’m the bird that returns to its nest

[Sanz:]
I know I haven’t been a saint
And I’m not made of stone

[Shakira:]
Man does not live on bread alone
And I don’t live on excuses

[Sanz:]
We only learn from our mistakes
And today I know my heart is yours

[Shakira:]
AAaaay... AAaaay... AAaaay Ay Ay
Everything that you have done to me
It was torture losing you
It hurts me so much that it is this way

Keep on crying, sorry
I...I'll no longer cry...for you

i'd forgotten

i'd forgotten what it is to look up at the night sky,
wishing someone were wishing
for me.

I will lose myself in you, and resent you for it.

This is my m.o.

I will be everything you could want and hope for me to be, and still be anxious that I'm not doing enough. You will love me -- how could you not? I am all you could have dreamed of, and dying to be more. I am your helpmate, your partner, your backup, your #1 cheerleader, your biggest fan. I am your perfect complement, your soulmate. Ang kabiyak ng iyong puso. The other half of your heart.

And then years of mirroring and balancing you -- propping you up, really -- take their toll. I begin to feel hollow, empty. I mean everything to you and nothing to myself, nothing that really matters, anyway. It makes me sick.

I find myself on the first flight home.

~*~*~*

I hate "Runaway Bride". It hits too close to home. There was a Julia Roberts marathon on TV last weekend, and it got me thinking about that movie.

~*~*~*

When I fall in love with someone new -- whether as a friend or romantic interest -- I immerse myself completely in the other: likes/dislikes, interests, hopes and dreams. But now that I think about it, if someone were to do the same for me, there would be nothing there. None of my so-called interests define me -- all were copied from someone else.

I really, truly, do not exist.

home alone

I am alone in the apartment with nothing but my thoughts, and the more I think the more I'm getting annoyed, then frustrated, then sad. If I'm unhappy, why am I the one who has to change? And why is it that whether I stay or go, the resolution is the same? I need to change, I need to be stronger, I need to be less needy and more independent.

Yes, I know, I need to be anyway.

But I miss the time when just being me was enough.

Kind stranger, whoever you are, I thank you.

I would guess you are in your late forties, early fifties. You seem a kindly, amiable man. You had just picked up the payphone by layaway, and were beginning to dial when I walked by. You nodded and smiled, and I returned your smile quietly. Maybe it was because I did so sadly -- I don't know. But you did a double-take, took a look at my name badge, and exclaimed, "Farah! You are gorgeous!"

I could not help but giggle and smile broadly, in embarrassment. Because you paid me a compliment I may not have deserved but certainly needed that day.

It's been an emotional week.

Things are still tenuous. I don't know where or what I'll be next year. I can only hope to be a better, stronger person for it.

I Am An Illusion

I Am An Illusion lyrics
Rob Thomas
Something to Be

Take this confusion
Runnin' round my head
Take back my unkind words
Lay that weight on me instead
I'm the place where everything turns sour
Where you gonna run to now

Wrong step
You got off track
We need someone to help us get back now
Worn thin
Awful state I was in
I believe I was losing me now I'm found
I am found

I'm not real anymore
I am an illusion
I'm not real anymore
I am an illusion

I am the damage
I am the relief
Sometimes I'm people
I never hoped that I would be
If I take in whatever they turn out
Then what's that gonna make me now
Don't you understand

I'm not real anymore
I am an illusion
Hell, I'm not real anymore
I am an illusion, ah yeah

Wrong step
You got off track
We need someone to help us get back now
Worn thin
Awful state I was in
I believe they were foolin' me
Now I'm down
Well, I am down

But I'm not real anymore
I am an illusion
Hell, I'm not real anymore
I am an illusion

Hell, I'm not real anymore
I am an illusion
God help me I'm not real anymore
Hell, I am an illusion
One, two, three, four

I am sick and tired of people telling me how I feel.

As things are, I will never be an actress. People read my facial expressions differently than I project, and sometimes entirely differently than I feel.

A coworker scared me one time, and everybody who was there said I looked PISSED. OFF. In truth, I was embarrassed and surprised and frightened -- mortified, really -- but none of it showed.

Saturday I was tired (six-day workweek, and Patrick and I had been up till early that morning talking and, uh... talking) , and the girls teased me all day that I was lonesome. Around lunchtime Luz finally caved and told me, "I know you miss your friends, and things aren't the same between us anymore, but if that's what you want, it's okay: I just want to see you happy." WTF.

And the worst thing about it is that the truth doesn't work, and even if people ask and you answer and explain, they still believe what they thought all along.

Tonight I was disappointed and angry, yes. But he said I looked hateful and my glare said "Fuck you." I can't say why things have been so damn prickly lately. I don't mean to cut him down.

I don't know if people give me too much credit, or not enough, but I do feel that no one really knows me.

The universe is trying to tell me something.

These are my Dove chocolate fortunes for the day:

Be fearless.

Go against the grain.

Follow your instincts.

Live your dreams.

I WANNNNNNNTTTTT....

Carlos by Carlos Santana Exude, $99.95 at OnlineShoes.com

this is not how i planned on spending my weekend.

I was supposed to get my birthday celebration with the hubby. I was supposed to be wined and dined by candlelight -- or other soft, complexion-kind romantic lighting -- with red roses and rich chocolates and i-love-yous and lingering kisses. I was supposed to get an operatic serenade at the Macaroni Grill, watch an endearing animated movie and buy new shoes.

Instead I've done dishes, laundry and various household chores; paid library fines; and whiled away the hours at the computer. Just like any other weekend.

I've been refilling the Vicks Vaporizer to try to keep his secretions thin, made inumerable teas and soups, and watched "Over the Hedge" (again) and "Superman Returns" (for the first time) on DVD. Brandon Routh is a cutie.

Dean was dropped off at 4:30 for an hour's babysitting while the in-laws went shopping. A library trip, several bowls of ramen noodles, a few rounds of "Halo 2" and one LAN game of "Warcraft III: Frozen Throne" later, the boys are watching "Over the Hedge" while I prepare dinner: miso soup and homestyle beef and rice.

He is sorry. As he reads over the entry I am typing out he apologizes for being sick, for needing care and putting a damper on our plans. I have one small consolation: I am the reigning Queen of the Frozen Throne.

There are so many things I want to say but can't, but mostly it's that
you who make me so tremendously happy can also make me
so overwhelmingly sad.

~*~*~*

Last Beautiful Girl

Last Beautiful Girl lyrics
Matchbox Twenty
Mad Season

This will all fall down like everything else that was
This too shall pass and all of the words we said
We can't take back

Now, every fool in town woulda left by now
I can't replace all of the wasted days
The memory of your face
I can't help thinkin'

Maybe if we ever coulda kept it all together
Where would we be
A thousand lost forevers
And the promises you never were givin' me
Here's what I'm thinkin'

Won't be the first heart that you break
Wont be the last beautiful girl
The one that you wrecked won't take you back
If you were the last beautiful girl in the world
(Last beautiful girl, ahh)

So tell me one more time
How you're sorry about the way
This all went down
You needed to find your space
You needed to still be friends
You needed me to

Call you if I ever
Couldn't keep it all together
You'd comfort me (she'll comfort me)
You tell me 'bout forever
And the promises I never should have believed
Here's what I'm thinkin'

Won't be the first heart that you break
Wont be the last beautiful girl
The one that you wrecked won't take you back
If you were the last beautiful girl in the world
(Last beautiful girl)
The last beautiful girl in the world
(Last beautiful girl)

Its over now and I've gone without
'Cause you're everyone else's girl
It seems to me you'll always be
Everyone else's girl
You're everyone else's girl

This will all fall down
Like everything in the world
This too must end
And all of the words we said
We can't take back and

It won't be the first heart that you break
You wont be the last beautiful girl
The one that you wrecked won't take you back
If you were the last beautiful girl

It won't be the first heart that you break
You wont be the last beautiful girl
The one that you wrecked won't take you back
If you were the last beautiful girl in the world
(Last beautiful girl)

The last beautiful girl in the world (Last beautiful girl)
You are the last beautiful girl in the world (Last beautiful girl)
Beautiful girl

Men are from Mars, women are from Venus.

That's just the way it is.

My birthday evening post was a denial of sorts: an attempt to cling to whatever good feeling the day had brought before it all came crashing down. Friends made my day; family not so much. It didn't even occur to me till Luz asked me about it, that my mom hadn't called. Anyway.

On Thursday the girls dressed up for me: polished corporate instead of the usual business casual. We went to Panda Express for lunch, where I showed off my mad chopsticks skillz, introduced them to tofu, half-and-half chow mein/rice plates, sweet and sour pork, Chinese chili sauce and the always-popular orange chicken. They later bought me a chocolate cake and had it iced "Happy Birthday, Farah" so they could dunk my face in it and take pictures.

I got a single red rose, a Hershey's candy bar and a Dr. Thunder; and everyone who could make my day was attentive and sweet. Save one.

I stayed to help unload the truck. I had a blast because I was among friends and the interactions were... lively, to say the least. Everyone else left by 5:45. Patrick was supposed to get off work at 5:30, and travel time is less then ten minutes, so I scanned labels till 6, then finally called him.

"Where are you?"
"Oh, I'm at the car wash."
"Alright, I'll get my things. Why didn't you tell me you were on your way?"
"Because I was going to buy you roses."
"Okay."

We met up by the Xboxes and he pointed out the games he wanted to get. I got some groceries and he headed to the wine section and brought back a Martini and Rossi Asti. "Is this okay?"

Perplexed, I replied that I'd had a good Asti and a bad one, so apparently there are differences I'm unaware of (the difference between a Brut and whatever else there might be, maybe?) He told me to go ahead and get the flowers I wanted since he doesn't know how to pick out roses, and he went back and got a Riesling. "I tried this on Thanksgiving at my parents' house, so I know it's good."

We got home, I heated up some leftovers, which he ate while I walked the dog. When we got back he was at the computer, putting together a scrim*. He quit his CAL (Cyberathlete Amateur League) team this week and is putting together one of his own. They were supposed to scrim the other day but not enough people showed up. They finally got one going last night and he was on the computer for a few hours. It went well, he was exuberant, and I hated to bring him down from his high but by 10:30 I'd seen my birthday night go by like any other weekday night.

I clipped the stem ends of the rose bouquet I'd requested last weekend and picked out for myself that night, rearranging them into two milk bottles. I left half a dozen on display on the kitchen counter, viewable from any part of the apartment. The other six red roses sit prettily at my desk, and in the background are the seashell glasses. I've filled two of the seashell glasses with water. One holds a pink carnation, the other a lone rosebud.

I curled up on the carpet next to his computer seat. He was posting the scrim's highlights when I lay my head on his lap and asked if we could talk. He finished up and asked what I wanted to talk about.

"What happened to my birthday?"
"What do you mean?"
"You ate dinner alone, then I ate dinner alone, we were just at our computers, and then I even had to eat my birthday cake by myself."
"We're celebrating this weekend, remember?"

~*~*~*

My mom called me today, apparently they had some new tenants who moved in sooner than she'd anticipated and she was installing window treatments yesterday. Luz brought the gift she's forgotten yesterday, a burgundy cami just like Blanca's which I admired last month, I think.

~*~*~*

From Wikipedia:

"Scrim is also a term frequently used in the world of online gaming (short for Scrimmage). Players use it as a term to mean competition between teams, which are usually made up of organized clans. A scrim is like a match, except not as serious (sometimes just for fun), scores are usually not recorded, and they can be organized spontaneously if enough players are available from each team. The number of players and maybe even teams vary by the game played and the available team members."

Retrieved from "http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Scrim"