Archive | October, 2012

of childhood dreams and hopes: my dear diary moments

23 Oct

oh, if these pages could talk.

dear diary . . .

revisiting my childhood

they’d tell the not-so-unique story of an eight-year-old sort-of drama queen (:D) trying to make sense of her life. what it must be to be eight again and to see the world through the eyes of that little girl: a simple, easy, mostly happy place with mom, dad, teachers, cousins, schoolmates, friends (and the occasional crush, of course.)

some might say it was a time of dewy-eyed naïveté; i choose to think it was the age of innocence, a time when the biggest problem in my world was when a friend wouldn’t pay attention to me, that episode in my life when an occasion like my first communion made me feel like the proudest, happiest person on the planet.

reading one entry after another and turning it page by page (somewhat fearfully in anticipation of a cringeworthy, makes-me-red-in-the-face post) was like travelling back to the past as memories long buried resurfaced and came to mind like it was yesterday. it honestly was like holding a mirror to my face because i realized a big chunk of my personality was formed during those years. i saw in my letters to “Di” (the name i gave my diary) the insecure girl who felt she never fit in and always thought she had to prove her worth, the girl who loved her parents so much that disappointing them made her feel like the world was crumbing around her, the girl who got elated over the simplest things, the girl who wanted so badly to know what it meant to fall and be in love, and the girl who always needed to find a way to express her feelings.

the last entry on my diary, my weary-looking childhood memorabilia, was dated 1996. it’s now 2012.

16 years later, a lot of things have changed. but some things we carry on: the medium might have had a technological upgrade and the audience a public one now, but i haven’t stopped finding ways to share what i think and feel.



math, genes, and the art of cooking

21 Oct

my first few attempts at cooking

if my mom were still alive today, i can only imagine the look on her face if someone were to tell her that i actually cooked a meal from scratch—cook, mind you. not heat or microwave. she (and the rest of my family, as a matter of fact) wouldn’t probably believe it. see, i have a notorious reputation for a) not knowing the first thing about cooking and b) bungling up a simple thing such as cooking rice.

i grew up in a family that knew how to cook . . . and cook well. my grandmother is fantastic at baking pastries and cooking meals, my mom inherited her penchant for cooking while my aunt learned the art of baking, my sister is a whiz in the kitchen, and—believe it or not—so is my brother. it truly used to amaze me how they could come up with mouthwatering dishes without having to follow a recipe to a T. they just instinctively knew what ingredients to add to make a regular dish extraspecial. i just couldn’t get it.  i figured i must’ve inherited my dad’s genes when it came to meals, that is, i was always relegated to the role of the dishwasher or  the one setting up the table.

until recently, i rarely had any reason to venture out to the kitchen except to ask when we were going to eat. but circumstances change. my mom has passed away, my brother moved to another country for work, and my sister’s schedule became quite hectic. and here i am, used to eating well-cooked meals. i had two choices: eat out every night or learn how to cook. and since option 1 was not financially feasible,  i learned to cook.

who would’ve thought i would come naturally to me at this point in my life? i’m 27, and i thought i had already resigned myself to the fact that this was one skill i was just not meant to learn. but  i guess all those years of sitting in the kitchen, watching my family whip up all  sorts of dishes must’ve somehow altered my “horrible cook” gene because, to my surprise, i can actually cook! (yes, i was really surprised) and i didn’t have to go through the “overcooked, inedible food” or  the “i almost burned down my kitchen” phase. it wasn’t as difficult as i imagined it would be. i’m no iron chef, but hey, for someone who used to mess up even just frying canned food, i think  i’ve come a long way.

it’s quite exciting, really. in a span of a few months, i’ve managed to change the equation: cooking + me =disaster  ♥

procrastination 101

21 Oct



aahh, the art of procrastinating . . .


1 month and 8 days. that’s how long it’s been since i last posted anything. that is really, really bad for someone who’s been pushing herself to making this a part of her “flexing my creative muscles and wanting to hone my writing skills” experiment. oh, the desire and hankering to twiddle on my blog is there, all right. but i can never seem to summon up the energy to type out the endless stream of thoughts in my head.

in fact,  just the thought of it now makes me tired.

that’s why i really am envious of friends who commit to posting on their blogs on a regular basis, if not every day. where they find the time to do so is beyond me. if my attempts to blog every day were ever put to film, it would be an endless loop of this scenario: me getting home, plonking on my bed, turning on my laptop (and getting a few minutes of shut-eye while it loads). transition to next scene of me logging into my blog while simultaneously reading the news online and surfing the Web while my blog loads. fast forward 2 hours later—and i’m on some random website reading an article that caught my fancy, the tab where my blog was loading remaining untouched. and surprise of surprises, by this time, i am drained and ready for bed. scene fades out, and i do the same thing all over again the next day.

the really sad thing about it is, i know i can do something about it. i just refuse to. *sigh* but hey, today’s a new day. and in a bit, i’ll be hitting that Publish button. fingers crossed, i’ll be at it again soon enough (though i am planning to make up for the 1-month hiatus with a couple more posts today :D)

happy sunday!