Reckoning of a Resolve

1. Find a job

2. Stick to the job for at least six months (or until I find a better one)

3. Go on a diet and get fit

4. Prepare more nutritious meals for the family

5. Blog more often (at least once a week)

6. Do my norms (of piety)

The list can actually go on, but I decided to stop there. It’s already overwhelming as it is. This top 6 are actually a rehash of last year’s list (and the year before that). Not that I didn’t get to do any of them at all. I did find a job each time I set out to look or one, but the search here in New Zealand has proven to be difficult for the past four months. I am, nonetheless, hopeful that I will land one soon, with the holidays finally over.

Dieting has, however, been akin to a yoyo for me the past four years. I’d get on one, stick to it, lose weight, and gradually go back to my eating habits. Exercise? Much worse. Intermittent at most. Having struck the big 4-0 recently, however, I realise I can only count on having low blood pressure, normal cholesterol and blood sugar levels for so long. Plus, there is that need to pass the permanent residence visa we plan to apply for in the near future. I walk a bit to and fro Oxfam’s office in Newton (where I have been an online communications intern since November), but that’s just twice a week. So I’m planning on walking at least half an hour, five days a week. Soon after I get a job, I can enrol in a gym, too. As for the diet, well, I’d like to keep it simple and real. More fruits and vegetables (one serving of each everyday should do the trick), less fat and sweets (limiting the latter most specially to once a week).

A naturally consequence of the above would be the next on the list. If I eat healthy then my family will, too, since I plan and prepare our meals.

Now as a writer, I have to push myself to enhance my skills, to get my name out there. Watching “Julie & Julia” before Christmas has inspired me. If Julie Powell was able to blog her way to stardom, I can, too. One of these days (hopefully within my lifetime). Plus, there are my fellow writer-friends Janette Toral (Digital Filipino) and Max Limpag (of Sun Star) who have made names for themselves in the blogging arena.

Last, but most important on that list, is having a plan of life to help ensure my spot in God’s kingdom one day, when my time comes. Thus, the need for me to do my norms of piety – e.g., daily Mass and Communion, prayers, spiritual reading, examination of conscience, penance. In so doing, I become a better person, a better wife, a better mother; and set an example to my children in the process.

Daunting tasks, yes, but achievable.

If only I were still a child and it would all be easy and simple to do. A child’s primary job, after all, is to play. At play, a child is active, almost always bursting with energy. A child, more often than not, does what she is told and what is right for her. A child loves God with complete abandon, with all her heart and soul.

No wonder Jesus said in Matthew 18:3, "Truly I say to you, unless you are converted and become like children, you will not enter the kingdom of heaven.”

So on hindsight, my one true resolve this coming New Year is to be childlike. And what better child to emulate than the Holy Child Jesus, Himself? Quite apt with the celebration of Sinulog falling on this same month. Undoubtedly one event we all shouldn’t miss.

Fanatic

Hi. My name is Cherry and I’m a Facebook addict. There, I said it. They say that admitting is the first step to recovery. In my case, however, I doubt I would.

Although far from being a tekkie, I embraced the commercial launch of the Internet back in 1995 with wide, welcome arms and have been avidly online since. I even learned html and offered Website design and development soon afterwards. As a hobby at that.

When social networking sites started cropping up, I got into them, too: SixDegrees.com, ICQ Buddy, MySpace, Multiply, LinkedIn, Flickr, and even the biggest disappointment in Internet history (so far), Friendster. Of course, I also use communication tools like Yahoo Messenger, Chikka.com, and later on, Skype. And yes, I also blog (obviously) and Tweet.

Anyway, I was disheartened by those social networking sites. Poor design, not much interaction and growth, and just plain boring. So when Facebook came into the picture, it took me three years to actually create an account. Once in, though, I was hooked. I was able to reconnect with friends as far back as primary school and relatives all over the world. I’ve joined and advocated causes, created fan pages, kept abreast of what’s happening internationally without having to open a single newspaper page or visit a news site. I get to share photos and videos of my family and keep in touch with everyone dear to me. After the onslaught of Typhoon Ketsana, Facebook helped people communicate with one another. I was glad to have helped connect two of my friends, one who had medical kits to donate, and another helping organise relief goods and medical kits for Calamba, Laguna. They didn’t know each other, but because I read their wall posts, I introduced to them to one another, so to speak. And yes, Facebook keeps me entertained, too. Not only with the videos posted by other users, but more by the games. Yes, you read right. Games. The priest actually laughed when I confessed this fascination of mine, hearing my struggle with temperance when it comes to playing online games.

Truth be told, one of my motivations for getting up from bed each morning, despite the lure of sleeping in after a late night, is that my spaghetti would spoil if I’d leave them on the stove or that my crops would rot if not harvested on time (Same goes at night, before I hit the sack, I make sure I have enough food for the waiters to serve while I'm asleep.). If you’ve played these games, then you know I’m referring to Café World and Farm Town. Mafia Wars? I play it, too, although not as zealously.

For Lent this year, I abstained from Facebook. But hey, I am only human and couldn’t fathom staying away from Facebook the whole season. Just every Friday. It was what I coined as my Friday Facebook Fast. Now that it’s Advent, I’m thinking I should offer up abstaining from Facebook. Then again, the Yuletide season is supposed to be filled with joy and merrymaking. So maybe it’s not such a good idea, after all. =8P

Written like a true addict would, don’t you think?

Dumbfounded

For someone who talks a mile a minute -- literally, according to my husband -- and who was hosting a TV talk show at that time, I stammered and ended up speechless when I sat beside the former Philippine President Cory Aquino. A good thing the show was a taped one.

Not that I've never seen her before. I was in high school when she often went to our school for PTA meetings, since her now notorius daughter studied in the same school I did, albeit a few levels lower than I was. Of course, she wasn't the country's President then. But she was the widow of a martyr whom most Filipinos admired and revered.

Anyway, I knew I was scheduled to interview Cory Aquino for the talk show on women that I hosted back in 2003 for the Cebu Catholic Television Network. I prepared for it and had my questions all in my head, along with additional tips from the director.

What I wasn't prepared for was the aura and commanding presence Cory had. And her humility. And how much she loved God, her family, and her country. Although I made a bit of a fool of myself as a TV talk show host, I was glad to have met her and talked to her. She was one awesome lady who is greatly missed by the Filipino people.

Singing in the Rain

I blame Gene Kelly. It's all his fault. Really. Him and his dimples and awesome dancing steps. And yes, his singing in the rain.

I was but a young child when I first watched his movie, "Singing in the Rain", and it was then that I fell in love with singing, dancing, and yes, the rain. I vividly remember taking baths in the rain as a tween, loving the rain drops that fell hard on my head. In high school, I even choreographed a dance number on the movie's theme song as a requirement for physical ed. Umbrellas and all. We got a 96 as grade, as I recall. When I was already in the university, I walked under the rain so many times and went home drenched. My mom would give me one look and ask with resignation, "You walked in the rain again?"

Because of Gene Kelly, I always welcomed the rain. Well, save for the occasional thunders that came along with it. For most of my life, I had brontophobia, fear of thunder. I only got over it when my daughter was born, because I had to feign courage for her and consequently no longer had to make pretenses. Anyway, since I almost always liked the rain, I never got used to using an umbrella. Thus, getting wet whenever there would be storms. Back in Manila, there were quite a lot of those. Once, I even had to walk most of Taft Avenue (a very, very long road) under the rain.

Nowadays, however, as much as I still like the rain, I prefer to be indoors when it pours. Just like this morning. It was a bit chilly, so I snuggled under a blanket and drank a cup of hot coffee while watching the rain from the window.

Did I ever sing and dance in the rain? Well, I'm no Gene Kelly or even Debbie Reynolds at that. But, yes, in my head, I have more than once sang THE song while walking in the rain with a somewhat silly, big grin on my face.

Unspooked

No costumes, no trick or treatin', no fun games for my kids and their cousins for Halloween this year. Although there has been a long-standing debate as to whether or not Halloween is a satanic tradition, the event can be and has been celebrated by our family as a day of fun, cute costumes, and sweets.

Having managed events for children and families in the past, I always advocated cuteness for Halloween: "enchanted" with kids encouraged to dress up as princes, princesess, and other fairy tale characters; "too cute to spook" with kids asked to wear cute costumes of animals, insects, superheroes, angels, et al. A pity that Halloween isn't much celebrated here in Auckland then.

So to commemorate the occasion and to have some fun on our own at home, I spent a couple of hours in the kitchen yesterday while hubby brought the kids to the park. That is, by making Spaghetti with Oozing Eyeballs (meatballs decorated with mayonnaise and sliced black olives) and Spiderweb Mudcake (white chocolate frosting with Hershey's chocolate syrup for the web). The look of the kids' faces, the oohs and ahhs, and the second (and third) helpings were all worth the effort. T'was totally wicked.

The Lumenarias

They're beautiful inside and out. They're sweet, charming, and caring. They're lovable, loving, and beloved. Always supportive, shoulders to cry on or simply lean on, hands to hold. They'd readily stand up and fight for each other's cause and dish on anyone who'd make their sisters cry. They would, however, also be honest enough to say if our concerns are silly or or if one of us is becoming solipsistic. They keep each other real.

These are the Lumenarias. The "enlightened" women who met each other virtually back when they were just newlyweds and have bonded through time. How they met? Through the newlywedsatwork@yahoogroup.com, where they shared new wifey roles and woes, cleaning and other household keeping tips and tricks, pregnancy concerns, milestones of their children, anniversary celebrations, problems with co-workers, neighbours, and in-laws. After nine + years, they figured they could no longer relate to the much younger newlyweds nor want to share their most intimate thoughts, concerns, and experiences with women they didn't really know. And so Lumenarias was born.

Despite having only reunited for only a little over a month, the Lumenarias welcomed the new pregnancies of a few and sympathised with the loss of one; prayed for the safety of those affected by the Ketsana typhoon and donated what they could for one who was gravely affected by it; swap tried and tested recipes; and continue to make everyone feel good about themselves, while still keeping things real.

I've never had a sister and despite having studied in an all-girl school from preschool to high school, I had difficulty getting close to other women most of my life. Well, that is, save for my mom. But I call these Lumenarias my sisters and I'm glad to be one of them.

Not So Ripped After All

I couldn't help it. There was no stopping those tears from falling. I felt real bad and yes, it was self-pity, but there it was.

My one and only good pair of jeans got ripped. Why? I sat down the sofa, but hubby had not yet fixed the broken arm rest and somehow, there was a nail exposed that snagged my jeans. I screamed an "ouch" since it hit my skin, too. Minor flesh wound. But the big hole on my pants stung more. I quickly went down to our bedroom, took off the jeans, and opened my sewing kit. I had no thread that was near the dark blue shade of my trousers. I decided to go with the royal blue. After I stitched the hole up, that was when I could no longer see clearly, because tears welled up in my eyes. It has been more than a decade since I last bought a pair of jeans. This one pair was one I was quite happy about, mainly because they fit me well and they cost half of what I would have paid in a store. I bought them from a favorite eBay seller who was based in Dubai and would frequently ship fab plus sized clothing to the Philippines for reselling. How was I going to buy again from her and have it sent here in New Zealand without paying for the shipping cost? No way was I going to be able to do that. At least not in the near future. Worse, I was jobless and trying hard to be frugal, especially since I had to not only curb, but put an end to my former shopaholic life. So there I was struggling to overcome a weakness and that incident had to happen. Thus, the downpour of tears.

After I calmed down, I turned to God. I normally visit http://wau.org for daily Mass reading meditations and articles for reflection. By chance, that afternoon when I went to the site, it was earlier than I usually would, and thus, the meditation was for the previous day, which focused on God's Holy Cross and how we should let go of material things. It struck me. I was truly meant to read it. How silly it was of me to have been so attached to a pair of jeans and get so affected by it getting torn. It was just a pair of jeans. I stitched it up and it still looked good. It wasn't perfect, but it suits the owner.

It had to happen so I would learn from it. And I did.

"Lord, give me the courage and conviction to let go of the things that are blocking the flow of love in my life, so that I can receive a generous helping from you."