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So what’s wrong with us?

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Note: Except for this entry, all the previous ones have numbers for titles. An explanation for this is that I have always thought about the topic below. What makes girls who study law different from those who don’t? Are we really as high maintenance as some guys say?

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Ever since I entered law school, I was told to study hard and to avoid distractions, which I gladly complied. However, a friend gave me unusual advice.

“Just make sure you’re already married or engaged by the time you take your Bar Exam,” she said cautiously. When I asked her why, she said, “If you’re already a lawyer and you’re still single, chances are, you’ll remain single. Your market value will lower.” I laughed at this and passed it off as a joke. I mean, come on. I didn’t study Law to find a husband. I went there to follow a dream—one which is still in progress.

“I have to study,” I protested.

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” I assured my friend I wouldn’t do that.

With a few hitches, I think I could say that my law school life is satisfying—failing grades are inevitable (although unwelcome) and therefore part of the package. I got myself involved in a few bad romances with fellow law students (I would rather not elaborate), which is ironic, I think, since we were supposed to have something in common. And it hit me. Since when was it a crime not to like a non-law student? Never.  Sure, having something in common with the person you like is good, but it has its limits, and it is not mandatory. It wouldn’t hurt to like someone who’s not my kind (no, I do not mean to offend).

Once, at a high school reunion, I sat with a few friends, including my crush (who is now a doctor and still manages to catch my eye. Sadly, this doctor is no longer single. Haha). They were asking me if I was seeing anyone. I said no. They looked at me, and said, “Law student ka kasi.” When I asked them what they meant, they said that most female law students have high standards.

Huh?

Continue reading →

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Note: I wrote this around 2009 for a school publication, however, huge chunks of this piece were taken out. In 2010, I made some revisions (and posted it into my now-extinct blog). This is now the second revision. The original title was “Sitting Near Strangers”. I posted this on my Facebook profile (through the Notes application) and my blog as “In Transit”.

Hope you enjoy reading this.

-LM.

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I don’t drive. I don’t know how, but I know I should learn how to. Most of the time, I am glad that I don’t.

Driving in the metropolis is a dog-eat-dog process. No one wants to give way, everyone wants to go first. So you can imagine how stressful it is. And that is one reason why it’s sometimes better to commute. Plus the fact that gasoline prices are well, pricey.

Sometimes, I take a jeep. Sometimes, it’s the FX.  Just recently, I take the bus more often. Slightly more expensive than the jeep, it’s cleaner. And it’s about nine or ten pesos cheaper than the FX. Costs aside, you can watch TV there too! When I’m not trying to make up for lost time in studying, I watch the show or movie. Most of the time, I am distracted (because I keep on looking at the TV screen to see what’s going on!).

But if one has to be a “busybody”, that is, if you have this tendency to wonder about the lives of the other people inside the public transportation, then the best carrier is the jeep! I’ve been guilty of being a “busybody”. Sometimes, it’s a cringeworthy moment when you see a couple who verge on public display of affection (maybe I’m just envious, haha). The worst I’ve witnessed was an argument carried by two sisters inside an MRT.

And below are my unforgettable “in transit” accounts as a commuter.

I was on my way to school. I live somewhere in Quezon City, and the public transport that I am in was an FX. (A backgrounder—it’s not easy to get a ride in an FX in a certain area in Quezon City. Sometimes, they come in droves in certain hours, and sometimes they come in trickles. I was lucky to have gotten a ride when it seemed that I was competing with the populace to get a ride.) A woman went in, and sat beside me.  She seemed to have a perpetual scowl (well, she was scowling when she went in) on her face. The driver asked her politely if she locked the door, and she was, “What?” with the scowl. Somehow, the driver felt rebuffed, and said no more. A few minutes later, she opened her bag, and took out a rosary. The “lady” was praying the rosary. I think that took five minutes, and then, after that, idle time.

 A little later, at Parks and Wildlife, she took out her mobile phone. She called someone. And it seemed that no one was answering, and so, she made irritated noises. It went on until we reached the MRT station in Hi-Way. Someone finally answered her call, and the lady was,

“Asan na ba kayo? Bakit ang tagal-tagal niyo sumagot?” (Where are you? Why does it take long for any one of you to answer the phone?)

“Nasa labas po kasi kami.” (We were outside the house)

And this was the clincher from the lady, who started muttering expletives, then said: “Hawak-hawakan niyo nga mga cell phone nyo!”  (Hold on to your cell phones!)  She said something about logging in. Then with a sound that seemed like “harrumphing”, she ended the call. What made me laugh inwardly was that the woman had the gall to put the whole call on loudspeaker.

A few minutes later, upon reaching Santo Domingo church, she took out her rosary, and started praying with the holier-than-thou expression that she used while praying prior the call. Because I was sitting next to her, it gave me an unpleasant feeling, like I had eaten eggplants (sorry, I positively loathe the vegetable). It never occurred to me that people would “sin” after prayers, as if it was nothing unusual. After a few minutes, she alighted from the vehicle. With her signature scowl, she slammed the door, and it seemed that she slammed the door so hard that the FX shook.

The driver winked at me and said, “Confess your sins first, then say your prayers afterwards.”

And I gave him a slow, small, smile in return. I understand what he meant.

I never saw that lady before that FX experience, and I never saw her again after. I wouldn’t want to.

My ‘in transit’ moment in a jeep was equally unforgettable.

A  family who sat near me looked worried. The mother was carrying her sick baby daughter, and her son, whose age I gauged as four years old, did not look any better than his younger sister.  The father was assuring his wife that as constituents of Congressman XYZ, they would pay less than half the medical bills in the children’s hospital. However, the man looked just as worried as his wife. And in the middle of their conversation, the baby began to cry fretfully, and the harried mother was soon at a loss.

Watching them, I felt more uncomfortable. When I was a child, and whenever we get hospitalized, we still manage to pay the hospital bills in full. I felt so guilty at times when I wanted to get sick so I can just miss one day (note that I rarely do) in class. All I had to do then was to take a tablet or two of Biogesic, and then I will be all right…most of the time. But this family made me feel grateful for my (relatively) good health and the fact we could get medication when we need it. It is tough enough to get sick. Being able to afford medication and proper treatment is another story. I felt so sorry for them, and since I felt so guilty about my “I want to get sick” wishes, I tried to go back to reading my codal.

Just when I was getting the hang of a certain provision, a little boy of about ten or eleven, or thereabouts, wiping my (newly polished) shoes (thanks to the “elves” of Mr. Quickie, who repaired them the day before). An old lady was trying to get my attention. The boy was wiping her shoes.  Apparently he was done with mine.  And that bothered her.

“Hindi naman marumi sapatos ko ah!” she said, tugging at my bag.

“Lola, naghahanapbuhay po yung bata.”  It sounded inane, but I was trying to placate her. The sight of the child wiping the nonexistent dirt on her shoes must have really bothered her to the point of irritation.

“Bakit wala sya sa eskwelahan?” (Why isn’t he in school?) she asked me. Helplessly, I tried to find words to say, “kasi wala po siyang pangmatrikula!” in a way that would not offend the boy, who was still within earshot. But I couldn’t. The boy went over to the other passengers to collect the payment he “deserved.” When it was the old lady’s turn, the old lady started to fire questions at him, like a gun.

“Hoy, hijo, bakit nasa lansangan ka?” (Hey little boy, why are you in the streets?)

“Eh lola, inutusan ako ng nanay ko na maghanapbuhay. Sabi nya, mag-mamah-jongg daw sila ng mga kaibigan po nya. Pag wala po akong nabiling lata ng sardinas, ako daw po ang matatamaan.” (Well, granny, my mother told me that I should earn a living. She told me she’s going to play mah-jong. And if I don’t get to buy a can of sardines, I’ll get a beating.) The boy answered nonchalantly, as if answering questions like that were already a staple in his life. The old lady was uttering expletives about the irresponsibility of the boy’s mother.

“Ilan kayong magkakapatid?” she fired back. (How many are you in the family?) Continue reading →

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Being able to vote was an awesome feeling. Not only was I able to add my voice for the well-being of our country, but it sure made up for what happened to me three years ago.

To provide a backgrounder, I registered on December 2009. I was pretty much confident that I would be able to vote. But lo and behold, on the tenth of May 2010, I COULD NOT SEE MY NAME IN ANY PRECINCT. Zero. Nil. None. Nada. Ergo, I was not able to vote. So there, imagine the feeling of being deprived (no, I’m not kidding). The only reason I registered to vote was for the then Secretary of Defense, Gilberto Teodoro, Jr. who was a Presidential candidate. And to know that you cannot carry out your purpose–or your mission, well, it’s heartbreaking!

Fast forward to 2013. I was pretty excited (although I pretended not to be, haha) to be able to vote. When we went to the clubhouse in the subdivision I live in, the place was teeming with people–no exaggeration there. After a few minutes (at first I thought I wouldn’t be able to vote again, but my mom decided to look in other precincts), we found our precincts and headed there. It didn’t take us long to vote–less than fifteen minutes, actually.

My lineup is as follows:

1. Atty. Samson Alcantara–because he is full of promise. No satire here, the Senate could do with (good) new blood.

2-3. JC Delos Reyes–Young and quite dubious (where experience of governance is concerned), but okay. Will give him the benefit of the doubt. Hope he is as good as his uncle. Richard (Dick) Gordon, who is known for making Subic Bay alive, and I know he’s doing a good job as the head of the Philippine Red Cross.

4-5 Ramon (Jun) Magsaysay, Jr., and Mitos Magsaysay. Far from being the traditional politicians, the Magsaysays do their job, and they do it well. Plus, Mitos Magsaysay is one hell of a feisty lady, and the Senate needs another person who says it like it is.

6. Miguel (Migs or Migz, not sure) Zubiri-Another person who does his homework and does his job well.

Since I live in Quezon City, I voted for Herbert Bautista and Joy Belmonte as mayor and vice mayor, respectively. Well, they try hard. Obviously, Sonny Belmonte trained Herbert Bautista well.

As for the partylist, because I’m a child of science at heart, and I also believe that science and technology is the ticket to progress, I voted for the AGHAM partylist.

The results were disappointing, to say the least! Anyone who has been glued to news updates already know who is leading, and who isn’t. Which makes me think: When will Filipinos learn? Why do they  always think for the short term? When will Filipinos be politically mature? Yes, I am Filipino too. But let us put it this way. How many of them have thought of their children’s future? How many of them have thought of legislation that could be made–those that could encourage progress? Will these people being elected be able to create them?

The answer is no. At worst, there will be vague and flimsy justifications from people. Oh God, what a mess.

I once read a Facebook status update  about a certain candidate for the senatorial slate. While I can say that I have not made an attack on that candidate, the last part bothered me. Because an election is not just a right that anyone can toy with. It is not just for a single person’s future, it is also for a greater number of people. An election is not a board game in which a player’s moves can only be dictated by a single roll of a dice–although it sounds like it is. So how can the Filipino people accept something like this happening in their life? How can they accept something that can possibly ruin the future of generations to come? An election is a chance, yes. It is one where people should carefully think about. It is sad that people only see the now.

Yes, the people need educating. When I tried to do this to some people I know, I encountered the following comments:

a. I do not know any better. I do not know the poor suffer. (They would mumble something about elitists in their cushy lifestyles lording it over)

b. “Mabuti na ang bago. Mabuti na ang walang alam. At least hindi corrupt.” (How sure are you?) or, ”Mabuti na ang bobo. Tignan mo, si ____________. Matalino nga, kurakot naman.”

c. “His/her profile does not convince me.”

Of all the responses, “b” was the most common. It is sad, but true. Not to mention scary. Educating people how to vote properly is okay. I would rather sacrifice my dignity than have an uncertain future where jobs and economic stability is concerned—the thing is, are we so desensitized as to say “Ganun na lang lagi e. Dun na lang sa sigurado!” and shoving the “education” aside? And irony of ironies, most of them are well educated–some of them have their Masters’ degrees!

It is sad to think how people would prefer to live in the dark than in the light. How long are we going to live like this?

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Last week, I was on an errand. One was to look for a copy of the Goldilocks Bakebook for my older sister–and my now not-so-secret mission–to eat Chicken ala King so I will know how it is supposed to taste. Yes, my next project is to cook that dish. Quite ambitious, I think, but not impossible.

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The new Chicken ala King! :)

First stop was to look for the Goldilocks Bakebook. Found a copy, but I feared I won’t be able to see another so I bought a copy immediately. With that, I bought wrapping stuff (pattern paper and that thin handmade paper–I have no idea what it is called, sorry!) plus something for my office desk (liquid eraser, and some bits and bobs). After paying for them, I headed to The French Baker. That restaurant holds a special place in my heart. When my older sister was in high school, her school was next to a mall–the SM North Edsa. That was where I first tasted turnovers–beef and apple respectively. They are so filling that all you need is a turnover and a drink–then you are good to go. Sometimes, when we stay in the mall for dinner, we buy heavier meals. I was curious about Chicken ala King, so I ordered it.

And it was love at first spoonful.

Always after that, I would order Chicken ala King whenever we would eat a full meal at The French Baker. They’re also known for the 50% sale before mall closing hours (around 8:30). Sometimes, we would stay for that because we can get all the croissants, the turnovers and scones (if we are lucky) we want and bring them for baon the next day. We sometimes buy baguettes, because my mom makes garlic bread. Yes, a treat,isn’t it?

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Cute placemat art!

But when my older sister graduated, the good days had to end. Haha. I have to admit, it’s been ages since I last ate Chicken ala King. On that rainy Saturday afternoon, I could swear that The French Baker at SM Fairview was calling my name. Gladly, I heeded the call. Look what we have here!

Isn’t that cute? Their paper place mats have improved design-wise. They used to have this place mat with only the logo of The French Baker. Along with the much-awaited meal (haha), I also bought Mint Lemonade, which proved to be a very refreshing drink (nothing made from powder, if you please!). The food took long to arrive, but it was worth it. The taste is just as I have remembered it, with better presentation. There’s also salad (greens, mostly, with a vinaigrette dressing) served on the side! It was a very satisfying meal. It may have been pretty expensive, but it was well worth it. So, no regrets.

After the meal, I needed to get other things for my office (again, haha). One of my projects for the supply cabinet was to have it organised (will tell all about it next time–in a separate entry). For that purpose, two large plastic containers were bought. And since Mothers’ Day was nearing, I bought a really cute yellow pillow for my mom which said POWER NAP. A huge, white reusable bag was bought since there was too much to carry, and the long pillow made carrying awkward. Then, I remembered that I needed twine to wrap my gift, so I bought it and went to my last stop–frozen yogurt.

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Yes, I’m still on the lookout for the perfect frozen yogurt. So far, only White Hat, Red Mango and Pancake House has satisfied my criteria of the perfect fro-yo. I will not give O My Yogurt and Golden Spoon a second chance–not only they are dreadfully expensive, they have proved to be too sour (yes, I know yogurt has to be sour, but they went a bit too far) for my liking.  I’m also intrigued by the ones from Pinkberry (I think there’s one in Glorietta), in Californiaberry (SM Sta. Mesa) and Tutti Frutti Fro-Yo (there’s one somewhere in Katipunan and one in Centris). But since SM Fairview only has O My Yogurt, Pancake House and Kenny Rogers (yes, their fro-yo is okay-ish), I decided to splurge one last time for the day and decided to get my favourite combination from Pancake House–the Crunchy Brazo. The toppings: crunchy-chewy meringue like chunks and the brazo filling–which is like eating a much-softer version of Kraft caramels. Definitely something I’d have again and again. And it’s a second runner-up to my favourite White Hat fro-yo combination: Froot Loops with swirls of caramel. My comfort food. Definitely.

What’s your comfort food?

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So this entry is written in between mugs of tea, slices of buttery toast, pins on a Pinterest board, and songs in my iTunes (right now, Keane’s “Lovers Are Losing” is on repeat). The truth is, this is the moment where I am at a loss for words, this entry is in the danger of having no definite theme, no definite topic. Well, here I am, and I ramble.

I miss writing and I mean really writing. It meant pouring out what I really feel about things and not just posting about really safe, politically correct entries that won’t prompt PNP to give my Facebook account…or any of my blog entries (via a comment) a warrant for my arrest. It meant being more honest. Being out there. But lately, all I ever did was to hold back. Not because I fear arrest or anything like that (I still think that the Cybercrime Law–next to the Juvenile Justice Welfare Law is the stupidest law to have been promulgated in the face of the earth), but probably because I have forgotten to put my feelings out there. Years ago (haha actually a decade ago), it would have been really easy for me–I once told a guy I liked him. And before you ask, it’s really not something I’m proud of! Now, you would have to bribe me to say how I feel. And let me warn you–it won’t be easy.

Right now, I am at a crossroads. I am about to make a drastic change into my life–and I have to decide whether or not to do it now. Apart from that, I think my life is just fine. Yes, seriously. Okay, so I am single. But that doesn’t–and shouldn’t get in the way of being happy. And it certainly isn’t a crime.

Then, there’s my job. I love what I do. I think I couldn’t reiterate that enough. I love the fact that I am learning new things and that I appreciate them more than I did when I was younger, and I took things for granted. There are so many things to be thankful for–no matter how late the blessings come in. God always has perfect timing–never too late, nor too early. And in a few days from now–another blessing will come my way.  And to think that years ago, I felt that I wasn’t going anywhere, career-wise.  Even my academic life seems to be was in shambles before I started to work. So there. Again, all in the matter of timing. God’s timing. Maybe He wanted me to grow up before I started working, to be less balat-sibuyas. I still am–a bit–but I’m doing my best to take criticism (constructive, that is) in good spirits. Maybe, He also wanted me to have a better grip on priorities. Which should be done first and whatnot. Funnily enough, I got a better grasp of that when I started working.

In a few months from now, I’ll be kissing thirty. I am looking forward to more awesome things. I am excited for the things that God might show me, things that He might teach me. I may not necessarily like all of it, but I certainly will have to treasure it. Because it will help me become a better person–a better friend, a better daughter, friend, sister, student, secretary and girlfriend (HAHAHAHAHA JUST KIDDING–this is only wishful thinking…but it doesn’t make the main idea of this paragraph any less true).

I shall close this entry with optimism and faith. Good night, everybody. :)

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If there is one thing I regret not doing, it’s not having taken pictures of the cupcakes I’ve baked from scratch! It’s been ages since I’ve last baked and the first time I’ve baked from scratch. Actually, I’ve assisted my mom and my older sister (they cook/bake really good stuff!) when I was younger, but it’s nice to do something on my own!

Because it’s Throwback Thursday, this picture of Devil’s Food Cupcakes (courtesy of Pillsbury, haha) is something I’d like to share! This was made (and the picture taken) November 2011. Sadly, the frosting was more sugary than buttery (it is supposed to be buttercream). All the same, it tasted good, and it looked pretty.

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A week ago, I’ve baked a batch of red velvet cupcakes–okay, make it two. The first set–or batch, rather, was dry as dust and heavy as stones. It made me want to cry, since I intended to give it to a friend at work because it was her birthday week. My older sister suggested that I add vegetable oil to the mixture the next time I made them. And of course, it improved! The batter was lighter, and when it was baked, it was a lot less compact and it was more moist.

The next time I bake red velvet cupcakes, I promise to take a picture. And if it turns out splendidly, will post the recipe!

I have warm, friendly feelings toward red velvet cake. Which reminds me, has any one of you already tasted Pancake House’s Red Velvet pancakes? Is it good as some people say?

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Just look at the size of this baby! Okay, so it’s not really a big one, but it’s the first one we’ve harvested. We have our very own pineapple plant here at home–inside a huge clay pot near our garage. It’s actually sweet! My dad and I tasted it and so far, so good. We’re so proud of this harvest–and looking forward to taste the second one. This is the other one. She’s a little bit shy, but let’s see if she’ll come out of hiding.

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Oh, there she is! This was the shot before the pineapple shown above became ripe. My personal project would be to plant sunflowers. Where can sunflower seeds (not the ones to be eaten) be found? Please let me know. Thank you!  :)