tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18642513498378943662024-02-20T08:23:52.025+08:00shine the lightUnknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger123125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1864251349837894366.post-23993007924316508002013-01-25T01:57:00.001+08:002013-01-25T02:02:11.747+08:00Out of Focus<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/iWyYZeGBo6M?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe> </div>
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If I had a bucket list, 'travel the world' would make it to the top of the list (next to 'fit into a bikini without having people who'll see me throw up' haha!).</div>
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Roadtrips. Unpopular beaches. Secret getaways. New adventures. If I could only leave this workstation ASAP and do all that in a snap, I would. What would I give to have 'travelling' as a job and 'beach-bumming' as a hobby. </div>
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Oh, if only I could.</div>
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In the meantime, I sit on a cushioned chair for a little more than 7 hours in an air-conditioned room inside a building only 20 minutes away from home. Not that bad really, except I don't have fine beige sand brushing against my feet as I walk to work and I don business casuals all the time. </div>
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At times, I think that, like the video above, I am out of focus as well: having a hint of what I want to be and where I want to go but not really quite sure about everything. Out of focus. Lost in my path. Unknowing of my future.</div>
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But time and again, when I feel like I can't and will never ever find the road that leads to where I should be, when I get distraught by the uncertainty, God, in His most special way, always reminds me that I am where I am supposed to be right now. </div>
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I look back at the many choices I've made in the past, at every turn I made and at every step (or misstep) I took. And I see that, somehow, everything still went for the better: I have gained life-changing lessons. I have grown in wisdom. I have learned more about myself. I have known God more.</div>
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So, I guess, at a certain level, I may still be out of focus, still a little lost, still unknowing. I may still make a few wrong choices, wrong turns and even missteps. But, I know, at the end of my journey, I will look back and say that everything still went for the better. </div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1864251349837894366.post-40943370622715134442012-04-29T03:28:00.000+08:002012-04-29T03:47:40.759+08:00My First AttemptAt product photography, that is.<br />
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I have been interested with photography ever since I can remember. Such interest must have come from my exposure to a dozen or so pictures of every event in my life as I was growing up. My parents used to work at Kodak Philippines, and that explains the thousand photos at home. <br />
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Since everything can be captured in a frame, no wonder the field of photography is vast, and specializing in a certain area (for lack of the correct term) of it can ease honing one's skill. When I acquired my DSLR early last year, I told myself I'd like to focus on learning landscape and product photography. In the future, I also want to have a studio, with kids as my main subject.<br />
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But with all the stuff I have been occupied with for the past year, I haven't really gotten myself to focus on learning the craft. I'd take a few photos here and there, but that's about it.<br />
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Last night, while suffering from lack of inspiration for an article I was about to write, I busied myself with searching the net on how to build a makeshift lightbox. A lightbox is like a mini studio, often used for shooting small items.<br />
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I stumbled upon a site that showed how to build one out of a frosted-side container, desk lamps, and white paper. The setup was so easy that I just had to try it out.<br />
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Here's what my DIY lightbox looked like:<br />
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<img alt="DIY lightbox" border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwADoyRiMvAlx46pru9aD7Rp27sd3vTTsyP33PdFDY4R2-8i1RNK1BHXg4c_mce_L0Tx1vKo_pPwTjD0VoCrsbMOGvRql-iqjBpMriOfCwPrSbC8n8olY1oCH8tGg-3SbGCJjrVwsQSlM/s640/7a.jpg" title="DIY lightbox" width="640" /> </div>
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Since I am such a newbie at photography, I wasn't sure if I had the
right camera settings. I just kept experimenting with my camera's aperture and
ISO settings, hoping to get a good-enough shot.<br />
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After an hour or
so, my camera's battery died, and my shots were not even close to
decent.<br />
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Here are some shots:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrMzba_eyzBkYOfeamJN5fzs2yanfo-Lin6LdAHAjUusd3bh1nssDtSNCMQ4_iSU6paL2zQVBfOaKIuCh_8p8Ru5D5N2bb2QTdlC2fWlWgHNHBVwTJwp4VaH8nhzk9zGCFcu-gw2W5Vk8/s1600/IMG_0118.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEif8bNwYXVVzRNd0Mz6QV0mderHqnJCaI3bsvgoU_iNes0RUujdjdyeCiQnq8X52ANxg-wMX6wpMldAig8W7jp0AcWpK0-xBmaOFmKPwJUV1K_nd52aB0kmU4-Tn7vtM_1-ZBJixZ_Xbwo/s1600/1a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEif8bNwYXVVzRNd0Mz6QV0mderHqnJCaI3bsvgoU_iNes0RUujdjdyeCiQnq8X52ANxg-wMX6wpMldAig8W7jp0AcWpK0-xBmaOFmKPwJUV1K_nd52aB0kmU4-Tn7vtM_1-ZBJixZ_Xbwo/s640/1a.jpg" width="424" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAso5DTZ16s31U5j6mPPQlC7xTCBTnd6gJ9fz9oGT63Z9ik1LtNFUEeV93LJUYQ7BBFlaeEyWHvNQrbgRq36hCoZaWkdIPOIQswQvLIXRbkz5GXG1A32TbpVoU6wy2UxwJYDZthJPumKc/s1600/3a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAso5DTZ16s31U5j6mPPQlC7xTCBTnd6gJ9fz9oGT63Z9ik1LtNFUEeV93LJUYQ7BBFlaeEyWHvNQrbgRq36hCoZaWkdIPOIQswQvLIXRbkz5GXG1A32TbpVoU6wy2UxwJYDZthJPumKc/s640/3a.jpg" width="424" /> </a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimRfb3cXAoZ7ouwHTUKV4HcLsKgQGJ6_yPn1uLVvJMYWbehkpFtnJEA15k7a6XN7U5WbG7_1bKimttQ4qCepQv8q9GScYC8glI6CoBLyb8l3RwyDV1qCxdenWmmNw-tHRUM11EBNvP6rs/s1600/6a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwADoyRiMvAlx46pru9aD7Rp27sd3vTTsyP33PdFDY4R2-8i1RNK1BHXg4c_mce_L0Tx1vKo_pPwTjD0VoCrsbMOGvRql-iqjBpMriOfCwPrSbC8n8olY1oCH8tGg-3SbGCJjrVwsQSlM/s1600/7a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div>
Obviously, I am such a newbie. I couldn't eliminate the shadows for the life of me. Well, I didn't have a third light set up, so I guess the shadows will always be there. All shots are raw, except for the last three (whose brightness I had to tweak a bit). Sorry, I don't know much about Photoshop either. (pathetic, huh?)<br />
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So for my first attempt at product photography, with a makeshift lightbox and a clueless newbie-photographer head, my verdict on my work is FAIL! That said, I have so much to learn. That, or I may as well just throw my DSLR in a box and sell it on eBay.<br />
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Seriously though, I hope I get to find time to really study photography. I noticed writing and photography go hand in hand. A good photo makes for a potential story. A good story can be made better if backed up by descriptive photos.<br />
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1864251349837894366.post-9517526088696012312012-04-19T09:00:00.000+08:002012-04-19T09:26:41.474+08:00Bag of Beans Blueberry Pancakes = Love!<br />
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It's 9AM. I woke up so early today. 6 AM to be exact. I know, for some, that's not early. Everyone else must have already ticked off a dozen in their to-do list, while I was still battling with my other self if I should already get up from bed or not. haha!</div>
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Since I'm up early, I'm hungry early, too. [weird sentence there, but I know you get my point :)] Anyway, I've been craving pancakes since last night. The photos at <a href="http://www.spot.ph/eatdrink/50792/spotphs-top-10-pancakes" target="_blank">Spot.ph's</a> list of top 10 pancakes in town didn't help. I was practically salivating at the layers upon layers of pancakes that were featured.</div>
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Upon reaching the end of the list, I was sad to find that my favorite pancake of all time didn't make it: Blueberry pancakes from Bag of Beans Tagaytay. The first time I tried it, it was love at first bite!</div>
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Imagine sinking your teeth into three humongous layers of blueberry-filled pancakes, smothered with blueberry jam and topped with whole berries and butter. Two slices of citrus adorn your plate of blueberry goodness. Pour syrup, and you're on your way to heaven! For just PHP195, the pancakes can serve up to four hungry tummies. Reasonable, right? </div>
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And here it is. Tada! <br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfHdMnjTFJYlPRW0_xPRMcAewQxaU2lByCh3RtOhHo3T6aFxgldoctbzMM3VD9CbSu4QkypZUmFESuzI0__EiLpVCfaRYiw2zNMZpcgUP4YKLDl_FIco1eTna458_F0iOE-PyCtNtpm7o/s1600/bag+of+beans.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfHdMnjTFJYlPRW0_xPRMcAewQxaU2lByCh3RtOhHo3T6aFxgldoctbzMM3VD9CbSu4QkypZUmFESuzI0__EiLpVCfaRYiw2zNMZpcgUP4YKLDl_FIco1eTna458_F0iOE-PyCtNtpm7o/s400/bag+of+beans.jpg" width="316" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Blueberry pancakes!</td></tr>
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Haay. What would I give to have these right now?Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1864251349837894366.post-12490178424592761312012-04-13T16:53:00.001+08:002012-04-13T16:53:42.783+08:00Pass or Fail<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<i>"Pagsubok lang 'to. (This is just a test.)"</i><br />
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This is one line most of us say when life throws lemons at us. If a family member suddenly falls ill, we see it as a test of our faith. If a prayer has not been answered for the longest time, we see it as a test of patience. If a difficult person is constantly present in our everyday lives, we see it as a test of endurance, endurance to keep our hands by our side rather than strangling him. :) <br />
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But think about it, why does God have to test us when He knows fully well what we are capable of? Isn't He our Creator? Then, why does He need any validation of how strong we are or how patient we can be?<br />
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I'd like to think that every difficult situation we face in life is not a test we desperately need to pass. There is no A's or F's, no pass or fail. Why? Because getting a grade of 75 or even a 100 doesn't, at the least bit, account for our worth. Our worth has already been stamped on us the moment we were brought into this life. In our veins run the blood of a genius, a champion, a child of God.<br />
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If life isn't a test and there is no need to prove our worth to a God who loves us unconditionally, then why do we think that way? Rather than saying, <i>"Pagsubok lang to,"</i> I'd choose to say, <i>"Paghubog lang 'to. (I am being molded.)"</i><br />
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In every painful moment, we are being molded by God into a better version of our already-capable selves. Life's lemons are not a pass-or-fail, do-or-die, "am-I-going-to-get-out-of-this-alive" kind of thing. Choose to look at each heartbreak as an opportunity for growth, and you'll see that all fear and desperation are gone. Soon, you'll begin to notice some sense of positivity and expectant faith in you. <br />
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So, if life is bringing you down, remember that you are not being tested; rather you are being molded into the best person you can ever be.<br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Photo source: http://50lessonslearned.nichetraining.co.za/tag/exam/</i></span></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1864251349837894366.post-24677493170560293002012-04-13T03:01:00.000+08:002012-04-13T03:01:28.262+08:00...I can't write.<br />
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Four hours has passed, and I'm still staring at a blank Word document and a blinking cursor. Whatever brain cells I have have been afloat for the past few days, and I don't even know to get them oiled up and working.<br />
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My SFA article for Kerygma is due today. My GEF article for the same publication, I promised to submit over the weekend. I couldn't push myself to write a decent 400-word article; how could I ever come up with two?<br />
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<i>Lord, you are the source of everything. This is minute to You. Please help me.</i>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1864251349837894366.post-59679695134383946512012-04-04T16:57:00.000+08:002012-04-04T16:57:30.659+08:00What are you ASKing for this Lent?<b><i>So for the nth time you’re heading for the beach for your Lenten vacation—to get away from it all. After all, it’s the only time of the year when you get to enjoy almost five straight workless days with summer in full throttle.<br /><br />It’s time to relax and recharge, you think to yourself. But give it a day or so after, and you’re back to your old self again. Why is that? Perhaps, successive days under the sun aren’t really what you need...</i></b><br />
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<b>Click <a href="http://feastalabang.com/announcements/718-simply-ask-a-lenten-recollection" target="_blank">HERE</a> for more information. </b></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1864251349837894366.post-25154168715829572342012-03-23T23:08:00.000+08:002012-03-23T23:08:20.039+08:00Blah x 1000Wow, it's been a while since I've written here. And the funny thing is, I have a dozen or so blog drafts on practically everywhere: in my email Drafts, in my mobile phone, in my notebooks. A few more notepad drafts hang around my PCs both at home and at the office.<br />
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But not one of those drafts has gotten into being stamped forever onto this tiny place in the net. It's weird that, when I try real hard to finish some drafts, I end up not finishing them at all [no pun intended]. Even recent important happenings in my life have yet to make it here: my 29th birthday, Valentine's Day [as if there was anything to talk about! haha but still, I think the occasion calls for a few words on love or whatnots <i>at least</i>], my one year as contributing writer to a local magazine, etc.<br />
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I don't know if the lack of consistent entries is because I'm just plain lazy or I'm preoccupied with a lot of other stuff. Well, whatever the reasons are, I just need to start somewhere, or should I say end something? End some blog entries, that is.<br />
<br />
Anyway, gotta find those drafts wherever they are, and get on with them. Soon, this blog will be flooded by<i> waaaaay</i> late posts.<br />
<br />
*end blabber fest*Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1864251349837894366.post-54403586302156777702012-03-23T22:32:00.001+08:002012-03-23T22:32:25.581+08:00Word of the Day: FAITHIt is easy to <i>show faith</i> when a crowd is in front of you, but how is your faith when nobody is looking?<br /><br />It is easy to <i>practice faith</i> when everything is going well, but how is your faith when everything has been taken away from you? <br /><br />It is easy to <i>have faith</i> when you see a glimpse of light in the horizon, but how is your faith, when everywhere you turn, all you see is darkness?<br /><br />Faith is never defined by raised hands and loud singing, neither by extravagant service nor eloquent prayers.<br /><br />Faith is in abandoning the comfortable and the familiar for a greater calling. It is in the readiness to face adversity, knowing that your Father will never abandon you. It is in relinquishing control of your life and believing in the God that holds your future.<br /><br />Faith is never external, never measurable, never seen by the naked eye. Faith is between you and your God.<br />
<br />
So, how is your faith?Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1864251349837894366.post-41862449804645287742012-02-23T22:23:00.000+08:002012-02-23T22:23:04.313+08:00Must. Not. Collapse.<div style="text-align: justify;">
A fraction of an inch more from the edge of my seat and I would have found myself too close for comfort with the light brown God-knows-how-dirty office carpet.<br />
<br />
No, I wasn't dozing off to Neverland. I was working nonstop the whole day, mind you.<br />
<br />
But in the middle of the slavery, all of a sudden, the whole universe was spinning lightning speed. I felt like being trapped inside a whirlwind; I had to hold on to my worktable to secure myself.<br />
<br />
I remained seated, nails almost digging on the wooden table, but I could see myself slowly falling to my right, as if gravity thought I was an apple from a tree. I uttered, "God, help."<br />
<br />
A few minutes more, I was able to regain my balance. The short prayer must have done it, but a drilling headache came after. I rubbed my temples, hoping the massage would ease it. <br />
<br />
In a few, the sides of my forehead have shown a tinge of pink from all the rubbing. The headache eventually passed. I thanked God I was still OK. <br />
<br />
The past weeks of heavy workload must have taken its toll on me. Can I blame aging for that? That precisely is the point why a simple case of headache and losing balance would make it to this blog.<br />
<br />
For the longest time that I have been toiling on this job, yesterday's was probably the worst case of dizziness I've felt. Nearly collapsing was never part of my to-do list. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Before, I would go to office and render overtime work until I can, or until the workload was done. Now, I cannot stay long hours at work for days without my shoulders reaching the floor and me all worn out and tired. Headaches have been a constant companion too.<br />
<br />
That led me to think that I really am not getting any younger and that I need to take a serious look at my lifestyle. Work-life balance has completely gone off the window the past few weeks. Give me more weeks like these, or just let me dig my grave please. haha! <br />
<br />
Seriously though, I have to bring my social life back. They say good company makes for happy people, and happiness and laughter induce good health. It doesn't matter whether that's true or not; I just need to balance my life now: just enough work, just enough play.<br />
<br />
So there, just typed in a few words and now off to work again. Here's to hoping I won't have to dig my nails onto the table this time around.<br />
<br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1864251349837894366.post-29257460706959560712012-02-17T09:32:00.000+08:002012-02-17T09:32:21.264+08:00ConciseHad a fruitful interview for K mag last night.<br /><br />Each line she threw is a validation of everything I felt before. Every question she has now is the very one I tried to find answers for then. All her realizations are the same wisdom God continues to teach me now.<br /><br />It's funny that, in trying to learn more about another person, I know more about myself.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1864251349837894366.post-76639473895951338692012-01-18T13:49:00.001+08:002012-01-18T13:49:46.604+08:00SOPA Strike!Log on to <a href="http://Wikipedia.com">Wikipedia.com</a> today, and this is what you get.<br><br><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4EU9iYbzn9XWiopzCCd5U7VIyf7XgQ4UkAQTFoiQ36Kghf25L6mhwfiwoBK0Xfq2isZeDoiUvY4MbdtvFs8M3TCdkX2Mfqi4BrA93V-e56aEUJmYB-SaUjE83hYyU7KMyGCmpCl-6OHc/s1600/wikipedia-786605.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4EU9iYbzn9XWiopzCCd5U7VIyf7XgQ4UkAQTFoiQ36Kghf25L6mhwfiwoBK0Xfq2isZeDoiUvY4MbdtvFs8M3TCdkX2Mfqi4BrA93V-e56aEUJmYB-SaUjE83hYyU7KMyGCmpCl-6OHc/s320/wikipedia-786605.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5698845163895672754" /></a><br><br>This is one of the ongoing strikes on the web today, Jan 18th, as a show of opposition to the Stop Online Piracy Act (SOPA) that is undergoing consideration in the US Congress now.<br> <br>I didn't actually have any idea on what SOPA is all about. My interest was piqued by how some of the biggest websites (e.g, Facebook, Google, Wikipedia, and Wordpress) are all against it. What could possibly be wrong with the bill?<br> <br>After reading a few articles about it, I had an inkling that this bill, once acted upon on January 24th, will have a huge impact to freedom of expression.<br><br>I have yet to fully grasp the intensity and extent of constraint that SOPA would have on Internet denizens, but any act that inclines to restraint of freedom is sure worth taking a good look at.<br> <br>Read up on the Stop Online Piracy Act here:<br><br><a href="/">http://sopastrike.com/</a><br><a href="/">http://americancensorship.org/infographic.html</a><br><br>Full text of the Act can be found here:<br><a href="/">http://thomas.loc.gov/cgi-bin/query/z?c112:H.R.3261:</a><br> Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1864251349837894366.post-80996302355148042162012-01-12T21:11:00.001+08:002012-01-12T21:11:43.912+08:00Facebook Status of the Day<i>Pray as though everything depended on God. Work as though everything depended on you. - St. Augustine.<br><br>It takes more than just prayer to succeed. Every victory is a combination of faith and hard work. <br><br>If you want to enjoy the apple, don't wait for it to fall. Climb the tree, reach for it, but pray while doing so.<br> </i><br><br>I was once asked if my status updates, like the one above, are original. My reply was "Yes," after which a "Wow!" followed.<br><br>Then, I thought, "Isn't it supposed to be that way?" Unless you indicate it's a repost, everything you put on the status text box is deemed as your original piece.<br> <br>So what's the point I am trying to drive at? Nothing really. <i>Memasabi lang?</i> hahaha! <br><br>*End of post* :))<br> Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1864251349837894366.post-89500065548650856952011-12-26T10:34:00.002+08:002011-12-28T06:44:11.562+08:00The Twelve DaysPounds of ChristmasIt's the day after Christmas. Whew. The holiday rush has gotten to me real bad, I almost thought I'd end up as replacement to The Christmas Grouch. A long list of must-buys, almost-daily parties, and the slow crawl of traffic everywhere can make one's energy just fly right out of the window.<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br />
Fortunately, the tiring holiday season is almost over. Just a few more get-togethers to go to, and I can welcome long hours of sleep again. Yey!<br />
<br />
So, out of habit, I hop on my trusty weighing scale. I haven't gotten to check on my weight in quite a while.<br />
<br />
The scale tipped at X pounds. Gasp! That's 12 pounds more than how I weighed prior to Christmas season.<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQsLOSDC8S7yZXfP-T6OgDmKyiQ7EPgeZ9KlEuEWricvpJkylIpGnH91erw2wJawxRy3S7MZTPl34WP84e5fggOo__jDqzL5FHlV686J6nhuIPUc19oMmeo2PW8K_ZCGq2MEmfsWP5rLo/s1600/Weight-Scale.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5690633817769247698" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQsLOSDC8S7yZXfP-T6OgDmKyiQ7EPgeZ9KlEuEWricvpJkylIpGnH91erw2wJawxRy3S7MZTPl34WP84e5fggOo__jDqzL5FHlV686J6nhuIPUc19oMmeo2PW8K_ZCGq2MEmfsWP5rLo/s400/Weight-Scale.jpg" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 266px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a></div>
<br />
As with any other life crisis, what followed was the feeling of DENIAL. I took the old weighing scale, stirred it, and shook it a few times. Finally, I tried to tweak the small knob here and there. The repetitious weight checking from way back must have taken its toll on the poor scale. I'm pretty sure it had gotten defective. <span style="font-style: italic;">Plus 12 pounds?? Nah</span>.<br />
<br />
I rummaged through my closet to get my digital weighing scale instead. Battery's still intact. Great! I hop on it, hoping to get the truth. <span style="font-style: italic;">"Huh? Plus 12 pounds?"</span> The second emotional stage came in: ANGER. What the heck is going on? Why am I surrounded by such defective scales? I am returning this fairly new digital scale and getting myself a refund!<br />
<br />
The next minute, I was BARGAINING. <span style="font-style: italic;">"Lord, how could this happen to me? Please make me 12 pounds lighter and back to my previous weight. I promise not to down another Conti's brownie again. I won't even touch leche flan, fruit salad, and pasta this New Year. I won't even stare at food, I promise!"</span><br />
<br />
There was no response from the heavens. I then felt DEPRESSED. "<span style="font-style: italic;">Why can't I just be like them skinny model-type girls who can gorge on a plateful and still look like they haven't eaten in days? I hate it!"</span> *insert uber sad face here*<br />
<br />
But with all things that come in life, there is a need for ACCEPTANCE. I finally understood the whole weight-watching drama.<br />
<br />
As I look back at how the 12 pounds had been added to my already-well-insulated physique, I began to thank God. I gained the extra weight, because I enjoyed feasting with friends and family this holiday season. I never held myself at every Christmas gathering. I ate, drank, and celebrated as my friends did. I temporarily held off my diet to be able to party without reservations. That's where the 12 pounds came from: quality time, bonding, fun.<br />
<br />
I put back the digital scale inside the closet. I took the other one from the trash bin and placed where it used to be. There was nothing wrong with both. They told me the truth: I gained 12 pounds, but I had fun too.<br />
<br />
Weight management is important, but for me, time spent with friends and family celebrating with good food this Christmas season is far more valuable. I can always go back to my diet and to the gym after the holidays anyway. <span style="font-style: italic;">Corny kaya mag-diet pag Pasko!</span><br />
<br />
So, for now, I'm ditching the scales, and I'm off to my next post-Christmas party! Wohoo!<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: 85%; font-style: italic;">Photo credits: <a href="http://www.medicalscale1.com/tag/weight-scale/">http://www.medicalscale1.com/tag/weight-scale/</a></span></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1864251349837894366.post-90868138574852516462011-12-20T15:03:00.005+08:002011-12-23T11:14:57.507+08:00A Call for Help: Update<span style="font-weight: bold;">Update: Donations will still be accepted until next week (Dec.26 onwards). Thanks!</span><br /><b style="color:rgb(51,102,255)"><span style="font-family:arial black,sans-serif;font-size:85%;"><i style="font-family:arial,helvetica,sans-serif"><span></span><span></span><br /></i></span></b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIx1-L6Wm7geWAso68lb-RY8TSSvLfo8YG92YReDVq4BtX5tM86ZYluqbKkyS2lp5vJj3ahE0oR9soeh6qafJLjPZ3MJlHTPQ2IB5S49gCwIy1adjCX8-H4Gz3J_RqzEnlmdwDR0ejuB4/s1600/untitled.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 553px; height: 723px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIx1-L6Wm7geWAso68lb-RY8TSSvLfo8YG92YReDVq4BtX5tM86ZYluqbKkyS2lp5vJj3ahE0oR9soeh6qafJLjPZ3MJlHTPQ2IB5S49gCwIy1adjCX8-H4Gz3J_RqzEnlmdwDR0ejuB4/s400/untitled.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5689156300008488930" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1864251349837894366.post-49879142790765587582011-12-19T22:55:00.001+08:002012-01-11T05:24:25.204+08:00My Christmas Wish List: Updated!<i><span style="color: red;">01.11.12: Updating this! I received as gifts a few of those listed here. Thanks to friends and family who love me so dearly [and whose arms are so easy to twist!haha!]. As said, "Ask, and you shall receive!" :)</span></i><br />
<br />
<i><span style="color: red;">To friends and family who gave me Christmas gifts, THANK YOU. By gifts, I mean both the tangible and the intangible kind. For every gift I opened, for every time you spent with me, and for every Christmas memory we shared, thank you!</span></i><br />
<br />
----<br />
Christmas REALLY is just around the corner. For the past few days, I've been victim to horrible traffic, specifically in areas near shopping malls. People seem to be in the rush to buy gifts and run errands for Christmas. You'll never guess the economy is that bad.<br />
<br />
Every Christmas, most of us, albeit the meager salary, humongous tax, and invisible bonuses, still find a way to give. May the gift be worth 10 pesos or a thousand bucks, we never fail to remember the goodness of family, friends, and godchildren, and try to reciprocate that by the simple act of giving.<br />
<br />
So, for people who plan to give, give me a gift, that is, here is my <b><i>Twelve Days of Christmas Wish List.</i></b> I want to spare you from having to think of what to buy for me. haha!<br />
<br />
To friends, this is one GIANT PARINIG. :)<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>1. Starbucks Ceramic Coffee-To-Go Cup.</b> <i>Fits perfectly in my car cup holder.</i><br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXu5VboEtMvOiFcxSTXwct2iOr1nmjdzD69p4iiDkv9F5DGXttdqLX33XHVBRyfslGiEYgDCiQnJJYmSo2lvS0CUTeK8aRB0BBmiXQyX3148dTtW1-jXSlGUWSDFjyNIRaNtJX3SkvkwE/s1600/152012209_3-770752.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5687853410019327026" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXu5VboEtMvOiFcxSTXwct2iOr1nmjdzD69p4iiDkv9F5DGXttdqLX33XHVBRyfslGiEYgDCiQnJJYmSo2lvS0CUTeK8aRB0BBmiXQyX3148dTtW1-jXSlGUWSDFjyNIRaNtJX3SkvkwE/s320/152012209_3-770752.jpg" /></a><br />
<br />
<b>2. Digital alarm clock.</b> <i>I'm always late!</i><br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjPYUsca-KGYOxLy-CKVopLkkaj1Gv60spgUHaveG2jAPKx8gHcMsMGeSGbjcuhyWDzUAeHsT1VrfUazPdZW8uYfa_s2cpZp7B3Y0hbOk8-ED6sRZooTMVVUTiXnMH-xKjacgPC_jWMSo/s1600/061318694_pc180089-771439.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5687853415193517762" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjPYUsca-KGYOxLy-CKVopLkkaj1Gv60spgUHaveG2jAPKx8gHcMsMGeSGbjcuhyWDzUAeHsT1VrfUazPdZW8uYfa_s2cpZp7B3Y0hbOk8-ED6sRZooTMVVUTiXnMH-xKjacgPC_jWMSo/s320/061318694_pc180089-771439.jpg" /></a><br />
<br />
<b>3. Samsung Galaxy S II</b>. <i>Cheap version of the iPhone.</i><br />
<br />
<b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiNB8eiNVHfXLw4-boQ2_Trqr0ZeTu1PP-PKCk9unWe8961YnCRBs09IFxzVKPmYZC6scPCHwSvunclsXdfb9D7rAEJJnYc7Kvu0l6eAaEB4pBpEc_V_lOMJ0rht6j-HiVjAw4xKSqHIw/s1600/5B000013-83BF-422D-9E12-CD9395D56E59-771912.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5687853412616064098" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiNB8eiNVHfXLw4-boQ2_Trqr0ZeTu1PP-PKCk9unWe8961YnCRBs09IFxzVKPmYZC6scPCHwSvunclsXdfb9D7rAEJJnYc7Kvu0l6eAaEB4pBpEc_V_lOMJ0rht6j-HiVjAw4xKSqHIw/s320/5B000013-83BF-422D-9E12-CD9395D56E59-771912.jpg" /></a></b><br />
<br />
<b>4. Converse Low-Cut Originals in Black.</b> <i>My blue one is begging to be replaced.</i><br />
<br />
<b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmXa0tyqI5qIivPJrzzHXmKAAMzGeM2rkxff-TQRqL07n_Dt-njx2ORt7dZzpB6NFnTmevH6VoYNcStRM1woRKt-staQK8qssZIt2crj9_tgFHvG0bgvKuInINQNJYa2rUJ_do9rpEuvc/s1600/chuck+taylor+all+star+shoe-773112.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5687853422861706098" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmXa0tyqI5qIivPJrzzHXmKAAMzGeM2rkxff-TQRqL07n_Dt-njx2ORt7dZzpB6NFnTmevH6VoYNcStRM1woRKt-staQK8qssZIt2crj9_tgFHvG0bgvKuInINQNJYa2rUJ_do9rpEuvc/s320/chuck+taylor+all+star+shoe-773112.jpg" /></a></b><br />
<br />
<b>5. Twinings Herbal Infusion Peppermint 25-pc pack. </b><i>Helps in digestion (no further explanation needed).</i><br />
<br />
<b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4Csf9OKX2ZjnMV7_uknpPX8aMHmm4IBLDTR1UTRXDVJ9Eb5VnobO9hU_SmwJk12r7bZtqoXDlyLd_kt0VRaRQiE0UyV4NCbNrtztheeH3wZaDPbsVGRA-QlFQkhb1pzeqBC3vRScDFpQ/s1600/twining+peppermint-775562.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5687853432293910098" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4Csf9OKX2ZjnMV7_uknpPX8aMHmm4IBLDTR1UTRXDVJ9Eb5VnobO9hU_SmwJk12r7bZtqoXDlyLd_kt0VRaRQiE0UyV4NCbNrtztheeH3wZaDPbsVGRA-QlFQkhb1pzeqBC3vRScDFpQ/s320/twining+peppermint-775562.jpg" /></a></b><br />
<br />
<b>6. <strike>Plastic floor mat for Vios. </strike></b><strike><i>Makes cleaning the car (not that I do the cleaning. haha!) easier. This one will make my Tatay happy. :) </i></strike><b style="color: red;">Thanks to Nanay and Tatay for giving me this! I got the gray kind. Haven't taken a picture though..</b><i><br /></i><br />
<br />
<b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiai07zD8v5-sn4kI7IGLyksspViBRImVeeDSwdffePL3UNwA1MetWjlAxFtGU7Wh_NRQXnwWeYnqTTTU7cldwvzGSSc35V34HyQjFBJWbro8vlM8TrqVCjxtVHSrjJxmnYiGqn23YTFBA/s1600/121924665_cheap_durable_PVC_plastic_car_floor_mats_s-776151.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5687853435517743106" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiai07zD8v5-sn4kI7IGLyksspViBRImVeeDSwdffePL3UNwA1MetWjlAxFtGU7Wh_NRQXnwWeYnqTTTU7cldwvzGSSc35V34HyQjFBJWbro8vlM8TrqVCjxtVHSrjJxmnYiGqn23YTFBA/s320/121924665_cheap_durable_PVC_plastic_car_floor_mats_s-776151.jpg" /></a></b><br />
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<b>7. <strike>Universal car charger.</strike></b><strike><i> Lagi ako nalolowbat! </i></strike><b style="color: red;">Asked for this in our BG Christmas/Year-end Get-Together. Thanks <a href="http://summer616.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Veena</a>! Wow, only now did I realize <i>super sakto pala sa</i> picture what you got for me. haha!</b><i><br />
</i><br />
<br />
<b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSshW3Pv5hhP9CIiUhqw-rOV3n-bHxusw2-TRNs1BibqCumIDSLB8sfp-njpT-mbF-kNi2bjFrXsKVVYVZ3gTHIDQwiy3Ngj5xpwfoq0PhMgdeApxF6nhslVsrDJFBesFJur5qXSGA4N0/s1600/Universal_USB_Car_charger_Kit-776978.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5687853440342780738" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSshW3Pv5hhP9CIiUhqw-rOV3n-bHxusw2-TRNs1BibqCumIDSLB8sfp-njpT-mbF-kNi2bjFrXsKVVYVZ3gTHIDQwiy3Ngj5xpwfoq0PhMgdeApxF6nhslVsrDJFBesFJur5qXSGA4N0/s320/Universal_USB_Car_charger_Kit-776978.jpg" /></a></b><br />
<br />
<b>8. Nikkor AF-S 50mm 1.8G.</b> <i>Low-light shots wanted!</i><br />
<br />
<b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidZKA_OnqyPHyZBv8nBL_5VYiMWxPBsd3oMK58E-6exvZBb9XZFX8Wv-xRwTHtlucG1YGce6rfN-Zhg9cWAhA8mriYCph8NndZCe0amezrYzWyUDptROoLeCNfMjduBnqcBFBkfMpgpsc/s1600/nikon-af-s-nikkor-50mm-f-1-8g-d5000-d3000-d60-d40-d5100-d3100-1106-29-shlow1819%254010-777975.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5687853444255551874" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidZKA_OnqyPHyZBv8nBL_5VYiMWxPBsd3oMK58E-6exvZBb9XZFX8Wv-xRwTHtlucG1YGce6rfN-Zhg9cWAhA8mriYCph8NndZCe0amezrYzWyUDptROoLeCNfMjduBnqcBFBkfMpgpsc/s320/nikon-af-s-nikkor-50mm-f-1-8g-d5000-d3000-d60-d40-d5100-d3100-1106-29-shlow1819%254010-777975.jpg" /></a></b><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<b>9. Webhosting + domain</b>. <i>Wanting to have my place in the Internet.</i><br />
<b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6O7L-UYRSi7b3lOEQcXn93H40QrsLbv09qZ5dcXG9pUPanXxnyoh8V8boMxabjLvR2E_EypBbv0FZda3Elc9f4iYgTZWcV_ANok8Gskb8o_UFKprNf0Dsf55lUBlHuYEKcUzqRy0G-OU/s1600/webhosting-779596.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5687853450331846818" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6O7L-UYRSi7b3lOEQcXn93H40QrsLbv09qZ5dcXG9pUPanXxnyoh8V8boMxabjLvR2E_EypBbv0FZda3Elc9f4iYgTZWcV_ANok8Gskb8o_UFKprNf0Dsf55lUBlHuYEKcUzqRy0G-OU/s320/webhosting-779596.jpg" /></a></b><br />
<br />
<b>10. <strike>Paddle brush.</strike></b><strike> <i>Makes long hair shine more (daw!). </i></strike><b style="color: red;">This one, I didn't expect to get. I was pleasantly surprised to be gifted by my old friend Je (whom I haven't seen for a while). Failed to see her personally though. Sorry, Je. Let's resked! :)</b><br />
<b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXHtxpamcLSxSEnKGjCAkKRSYaWMsGwQK01OrlNcMmcfgs5jizz_Eyv006DQzEp3ty18pttaVrQ4CojaoR8ulRD6rt8cOqyYDSB_LGT_J4QchqxGmFJUXEYjsArWVlwnuB_dwGCTcoRAI/s1600/PaulMitchell-7355-780279.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5687853452450559362" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXHtxpamcLSxSEnKGjCAkKRSYaWMsGwQK01OrlNcMmcfgs5jizz_Eyv006DQzEp3ty18pttaVrQ4CojaoR8ulRD6rt8cOqyYDSB_LGT_J4QchqxGmFJUXEYjsArWVlwnuB_dwGCTcoRAI/s320/PaulMitchell-7355-780279.jpg" /></a></b><br />
<br />
<b>11. 16GB SDHC memory card.</b> <i>To store more pics!</i><br />
<br />
<b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaoDpV1LGoj4hdtUifCchsBrGeJMyIAjdqgsrxwqOb9X-dn7dMNKMhEIbEnFS4n2azwV8Kpj1CgWzsf7w7WIEhWyG16WGRg7YcG4cElFmtGKfj5rVG-nObV97QgUQvTy_6aeFI7kpbk2I/s1600/1-31-08-kingston-sdhc-781172.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5687853457692549474" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaoDpV1LGoj4hdtUifCchsBrGeJMyIAjdqgsrxwqOb9X-dn7dMNKMhEIbEnFS4n2azwV8Kpj1CgWzsf7w7WIEhWyG16WGRg7YcG4cElFmtGKfj5rVG-nObV97QgUQvTy_6aeFI7kpbk2I/s320/1-31-08-kingston-sdhc-781172.jpg" /></a></b><br />
<br />
<b>12. Lastly, (<i>sige na nga..)</i> <span style="font-size: 130%;">PEACE ON EARTH!</span></b><br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNYVbutTTTdJgN6aR2F3GP_xmCgc2eTFz4KNwXK338Q1_9sZoAQ1VDzbksPHgrOy_eLiIYEruORdjPTU5lt50uNvXqZrNrccIVs7LQnKEnW66i6S2hBzyAaFsZY40ICjhfTR2EP-Bx7XE/s1600/peace-782359.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5687853459806305458" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNYVbutTTTdJgN6aR2F3GP_xmCgc2eTFz4KNwXK338Q1_9sZoAQ1VDzbksPHgrOy_eLiIYEruORdjPTU5lt50uNvXqZrNrccIVs7LQnKEnW66i6S2hBzyAaFsZY40ICjhfTR2EP-Bx7XE/s320/peace-782359.jpg" /></a><br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br />
There goes everything I want to get this Christmas. Of course, I doubt anyone will even seriously consider giving me any of those mentioned. haha!<br />
<br />
So, what is the point of listing them down? Well, nothing really. I just realized that most of the time, we do not know what we want in life, where we want to go, what we wish to achieve. We wander through life aimlessly: no direction, no goal. Lacking the knowledge of what will make us happy accounts for lack of passion and drive to go on.<br />
<br />
When you aspire something, when you have a dream, you make it easier for God to bless you. He doesn't have to guess which blessings to shower on you when you already know what to ask for. Not that God is ever dumbfounded by anything, but if we know our heart's desires, we actually glorify Him who created us. Because, in knowing, we aspire. In aspiring, we strive. In striving, we reach our maximum potential; we live a full life. As St. Irenaeus said, <i>"The Glory of God is a man fully alive."</i><br />
<br />
So, strive to know your heart's desire, aspire to achieve your biggest dreams, and don't hesitate to ask from God. He will never deny His child.<br />
<br />
By the way, my shoe size is 8. <i>(Kung makakalusot lang naman!)</i></div>
</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1864251349837894366.post-36526625030317682762011-12-10T08:43:00.013+08:002011-12-11T13:50:18.859+08:00Empty ClosetIt's that time of the year again. Why does it still feel the same way it did four years ago? I still cried a fresh set of tears this morning at the thought of what transpired at that <a href="http://eight32.blogspot.com/2010/09/grief-greed-and-giving.html">fateful day</a>.<br /><br />I look at your room now. Your bed is a mess, if I can still find the bed underneath the high stacks of clothes piled on it. Your closet that used to store your favorite shirts, jeans, and those floral uniforms that the previous Manila city mayor imposed you wear (and you used to hate) is now full of just blankets, bedsheets, towels, and an even higher pile of our clothes up for ironing. Your dresser that I used to raid for any new stuff I can borrow (and not return) has turned into another mini altar. All of your stuff are gone. But why do I still feel every inch of you here?<br /><br />I miss you, Tita Lyn. <span style="font-style:italic;">Sobra.</span><br /><br />By the way, that blue shirt with pink collar I took from your cabinet, I use <span style="font-style:italic;">pa rin</span>. Fits me perfectly now.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhz-SWcpr2EUzI-gA2NZVX-8ojUXJ-Xk6Q54j0BSk6cptk0i8XgsQqaE01X7NcWKguG6N11vXmT_gKyf8Fp72-qdwIOOQnGnzatNaWNSjZZmRXLJBl8DCvrNExcD11ND3TYlqY3C-HL7s4/s1600/xmas.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhz-SWcpr2EUzI-gA2NZVX-8ojUXJ-Xk6Q54j0BSk6cptk0i8XgsQqaE01X7NcWKguG6N11vXmT_gKyf8Fp72-qdwIOOQnGnzatNaWNSjZZmRXLJBl8DCvrNExcD11ND3TYlqY3C-HL7s4/s320/xmas.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5684294007885765890" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;">My last Christmas pic with Tita Lyn (Christmas 2006)</span></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1864251349837894366.post-55739836575251465002011-12-06T13:16:00.001+08:002011-12-06T13:16:39.044+08:00Facebook Status of the Day<div class="gmail_quote"><br><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmFIMU_y6f5E5bRMTFfVw1LxvjhPCKFxmll2kITYOFIhbdjzQ1dg3jslL8lrh5QelLce0boQPpZdcdGb6mCeNyKUWHK6O6WVJ-t8BunTNXQN_viDUHbNxmQFWhdBnGvHWxcWaC7s_o21Y/s1600/breakup-799044.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmFIMU_y6f5E5bRMTFfVw1LxvjhPCKFxmll2kITYOFIhbdjzQ1dg3jslL8lrh5QelLce0boQPpZdcdGb6mCeNyKUWHK6O6WVJ-t8BunTNXQN_viDUHbNxmQFWhdBnGvHWxcWaC7s_o21Y/s320/breakup-799044.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5682879961646148290" /></a><br><br><b>Every BREAKUP is a BREAKTHROUGH. God will not allow His child to be hurt if there is no good that will come out of the pain.<br> <br> Breakups are always possible; pain, always abounding. But know that a broken heart can always be mended by a comforting hug of a big God.</b> <br><br><br><i>*Photo credits: <a href="http://free-extras.com" target="_blank">free-extras.com</a></i><br clear="all"><br></div> Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1864251349837894366.post-19658163811257040882011-12-01T11:35:00.003+08:002011-12-01T12:08:07.106+08:00Blue Door, White Linen, Big Dream<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJdp6lbXP6K6Xj0VYe95t2VhC619XkdIv9cU8OnVAf44MpoZ6jbJovH-XHhJapyX_zbRKstgr-adJzaZN3R1TcG2zsVurpXqVmzQyLOuibLQFAz2tQJuCzxUJMiZiW5jTNQawDeA2nTdA/s1600/IMG_0006.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br />
</a></div>I opened the blue door, taking my steps in careful fashion. I feared the mocha-colored wooden panels that shrieked at my every step would eventually give in. <br />
<br />
A huge rectangular table clothed in white was in the middle of the small room. On it were plates of morning goodies that sure made my eyes sparkle. I had not eaten anything on the way, so the stomach immediately rang an alarm at the sight of food. <br />
<br />
I hesitated a bit, as I wouldn't want the others (Oh, so there were other people!) to notice how starved I was, wouldn't want to be labeled "The Lady Who Gorged on the Blueberry Muffin."<br />
<br />
The battle between (saving) face and (growling) stomach was intense. One had to win. And it was the stomach.<br />
<br />
As I munch on every bit of muffin heaven, I looked around at some new and some familiar faces surrounding the same white-linen-ed table.<br />
<br />
How did I get here?<br />
<br />
"Umm.. by car?," the little voice inside my head told me.<br />
<br />
"Duh," I answered back. "I mean, how really did I get here? To this room? To this situation? To this dream? How did I get to be with these people?"<br />
<br />
I was in the same room, sharing the same Pasig air and the same blueberry muffin, as Rissa Singson-Kawpeng, Tess Atienza, and all the Kerygma writers. Could this be just a dream? Then, don't wake me up. Please.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJdp6lbXP6K6Xj0VYe95t2VhC619XkdIv9cU8OnVAf44MpoZ6jbJovH-XHhJapyX_zbRKstgr-adJzaZN3R1TcG2zsVurpXqVmzQyLOuibLQFAz2tQJuCzxUJMiZiW5jTNQawDeA2nTdA/s1600/IMG_0006.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="350" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJdp6lbXP6K6Xj0VYe95t2VhC619XkdIv9cU8OnVAf44MpoZ6jbJovH-XHhJapyX_zbRKstgr-adJzaZN3R1TcG2zsVurpXqVmzQyLOuibLQFAz2tQJuCzxUJMiZiW5jTNQawDeA2nTdA/s640/IMG_0006.JPG" width="640" /></a><br />
<br />
<br />
I remember writing this dream on my journal some time in January. And could it really be that, just a few months after, the dream would come true? <br />
<br />
But it just did. And only because of one reason: God loves me.<br />
<br />
There is no other way to explain it. God loves me so much to provide my heart's desire. God loves me so much to fulfill one of my many dreams. God loves me so much.<br />
<br />
And so does He love you. There is no boundary to God's immense love for you and everything He can give you. <br />
<br />
Dreaming of being onstage, preaching the Good News to people? Dreaming of huge success in your business, so you can provide more employment opportunities? Or simply dreaming of having a happy family life in the future, complete with visions of your would-be children and grandchildren?<br />
<br />
Go ahead, dream! Allow God to make you the happiest kid on Earth. Your joy is His joy. Your dreams are His dreams for you. If He did fulfill my dream, how can He not fulfill yours? So, dream. And dream BIG!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1864251349837894366.post-73825604241685641942011-10-26T11:45:00.000+08:002011-12-01T11:46:44.762+08:00My Knight in Shining Armor<i>"I don't want you to get hurt again."</i><br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">I clicked on the red X on the top-right corner of my computer screen and closed the email he had sent. With tears flowing on my cheeks, I thanked God for him. I had just gone through a devastating experience and needed every amount of support I can get. Along with family and friends, he provided that support.</div>At times, when he drives me to work, he'd suddenly hear me opening up a problem or a burden I am keeping. In an instant, he'd see my eyes well up. I know it pains him seeing me like that, but he remains composed. He then shares his thoughts and advises me what to do. He isn't really the touchy-feely guy, but his words always give me comfort and assurance that he will always be there for me.<br />
I remember a time when I was on the brink of insanity over an opportunity I passed up for personal reasons. I cried myself to sleep over the lost chance. The morning after, I found a letter on my bedside table. It was from him. The words seemed to have been written in a hurry, but they served their purpose nonetheless: They were—as can be expected of him—words of comfort, words that assured me that I need not worry. He told me that more and even greater opportunities will come.<br />
Upon reading the last of his letter, I said a prayer of gratitude for his presence in my life.<br />
<br />
Yesterday, he celebrated his birthday, and I thanked God once again for him, for my knight in shining armor. He hides beneath his shield but never fails to come to my rescue. I know that I will forever be his princess. And for this, I am thankful.<br />
<br />
Thank You, Lord, for the 53 years that you have blessed me with a Tatay who never stopped to provide and protect. Thank you for my knight in shining armor. Thank You, Lord, for my Tatay.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="http://feastalabang.com/images/stories/tatay.jpg" /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>Tatay and me</i> <img alt="Smile" border="0" src="http://feastalabang.com/plugins/editors/tinymce/jscripts/tiny_mce/plugins/emotions/img/smiley-smile.gif" title="Smile" /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1864251349837894366.post-67480927143518586392011-06-20T15:38:00.001+08:002011-06-20T15:39:41.884+08:00Rant 101<div style="text-align: justify;"></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Sometimes I think I haven't done any single thing right the first time. An initial step would almost always require two steps (at times a giant leap) back. A decision made would force a hundred and one retractions. An on-the-spot moment would constitute an entire week of regret and humiliation.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">"I was made ready," Astroboy said. In my case, I'd likely insert a giant NOT somewhere in between that statement. I can't remember a time when I got into a sudden situation and came out of it alive, with all pride and reputation still intact. Almost always, I'd do something really stupid, make a kindergarten-level decision, and hate myself for the negative turnout.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Why wasn't I made ready for anything? Why am I the most gullible, sheltered, and naive gal there is? Why can't I just be like everyone else: street smart and mature? </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">I'm such a dummy. Argh.</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1864251349837894366.post-46114737600029916462011-05-12T09:49:00.000+08:002011-05-14T04:38:37.362+08:00My Current Wish ListIt's not yet Christmas. My birthday isn't coming around until next year. So I can't think of anything to call my wish list than just that: My Current Wish List.<br />
<br />
<em>Lord, please provide a way for me to purchase these...</em> <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-W8IbhS86m7CKD8lYEap9nZovREYgHge59BafOmjHw4EUKPjgtvQpv7pLGxgnQqWnZrxZwUc2bNc1zBLhHrtDhlXzeB9HrFWKm5fmBlaunK7ItuMYCpSA8A5oMOLOmK5S4Ex-j9ujPQk/s1600/BIIN-50-Green-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" j8="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-W8IbhS86m7CKD8lYEap9nZovREYgHge59BafOmjHw4EUKPjgtvQpv7pLGxgnQqWnZrxZwUc2bNc1zBLhHrtDhlXzeB9HrFWKm5fmBlaunK7ItuMYCpSA8A5oMOLOmK5S4Ex-j9ujPQk/s320/BIIN-50-Green-1.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Vanguard Biin 50. The cheapest DSLR backpack I know.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Cute but sturdy and well-padded. Just like me (well-padded by fats, that is! haha).</div><div style="text-align: center;">Dent on the pocket would be PHP1950.00.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiV4kfZNPS8R1NbQEfRW4qDphvrsOps_pIh-jqFwUqP91pugJP9OLPrlDoBWw5765gFXgR4eUTG9K7ZvfKXql9lRKfdAbdwMo0AsAETxHy5PBzIB3ragzC_es9W93UCfypGw4fIj3fdtHI/s1600/nikonafs70-300-001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" j8="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiV4kfZNPS8R1NbQEfRW4qDphvrsOps_pIh-jqFwUqP91pugJP9OLPrlDoBWw5765gFXgR4eUTG9K7ZvfKXql9lRKfdAbdwMo0AsAETxHy5PBzIB3ragzC_es9W93UCfypGw4fIj3fdtHI/s320/nikonafs70-300-001.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Nikkor AF-S VR 70-300mm. Found great reviews on this.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Damage if ever: PHP26,000.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">More stuff will surely be added to this list unless I stop checking out the Henry's Camera website. Internet, this is your fault. haha! :)</div><div align="left" style="text-align: center;"></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1864251349837894366.post-74249342867995105872011-04-16T10:00:00.002+08:002011-04-16T10:00:01.827+08:00A Lola of Great Faith<div style="text-align: justify;"><em>“Tama na yang TV, magdasal na tayo.”</em></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Nobody moves.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><em>“Magdasal na tayo.”</em></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Still, nobody moves. Eyes fixed on the tube. Ears as if plugged with giant cotton balls.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><em>“Magdasal na tayo. Hindi natin dapat nakakalimutan ang Diyos.” </em></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Much as I want to go on with the pretend-I-didn’t-hear-anything drama, I get up from my seat and turn off the TV, to the dismay of my cousins. Being the eldest in the bunch, I herd my cousins in front of the altar, where Inang had already been waiting for us.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">This was how everyday family prayer would start when I was a kid. It was a struggle. Like gulping a spoonful of Tempra when you’re down with fever, you just want it over and done with.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">But Inang seemed oblivious to the groans and sighs of her grandchildren come prayer time. She would ignore the dragging feet and the lousy answers to “Hail Mary” and would remind us that God is more important than TV. She wants us to value prayer and to always follow Jesus’ example in everything we do.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">For that, I loved and respected Inang–for her faith, her wisdom, and her great love for family. But a greater testament of her faith was revealed in that day after my Tita Lyn was laid to rest.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">It was mid-day. The whole family–Inang, my parents, aunts, and uncles–was gathered over lunch. We were talking about Tita Lyn’s death. We lost her when she was run over by a speeding bus. Pure hatred was the only thing we felt for the driver, and we were ready to avenge her murder.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Silent in the midst of the very emotional discussion, Inang suddenly uttered, “Hindi ko pa man sya nakikita, pinapatawad ko na ang drayber na ‘yon.” All eyes were now on her.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">I thought, “How could you say that? Didn't he just kill your daughter? Didn't he just run over her several times, ignoring her loud cries for help? Didn't he just rationalize what he did? Why are you being like this? Isn't she important to you?” He had no remorse. He never asked for forgiveness. For that, I will never forget his face. His menacingly proud face will forever be etched in my heart. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">As if she had read all the thoughts in my head, Inang burst into tears, <em>"Ipinahiram lang ng Diyos sa akin si Lyn para alagaan ko at mahalin bilang anak, pero sa Kanya naman talaga sya. Kaya pinapatawad ko na yung drayber, dahil parati rin naming tayong pinapatawad ng Diyos."</em></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">That left me silent. I felt my eyes start to well up. She was right. Tita Lyn was, first and foremost, God's daughter; He must have already needed her up there. And true. If the God who made all heaven and earth could forgive sinners like us, how could we not pass on the forgiveness to others? Inang felt the pain of the loss, but she saw the bigger picture. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">After that memorable day, I loved Inang even more and grew more respect for her. She is more than a daily Mass-goer, more than a prayerful lola, more than a forgiving mother. She is a true servant of God. And I pray to be like her, to be of great faith.</div><br />
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<div style="text-align: center;"><img _cke_saved_src="images/inang(1).jpg" alt="alt" src="http://feastalabang.com/images/inang%281%29.jpg" style="height: 416px; width: 336px;" /></div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><em>Me and Inang, my lola of great faith</em></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1864251349837894366.post-85001059950027834142011-04-14T12:31:00.000+08:002011-04-14T12:31:40.332+08:00Decisions. Decisions.<div style="text-align: justify;"></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><em>"Obey the Lord not out of fear but out of love." </em></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">When I was a kid, I hated going to mass. Waking up at 7 in the morning on a Sunday wasn't really my cup of tea. Who would like to pull away from snuggle pillows, get up from a comfy bed, and take a shower that early? I don't know about you, but I definitely wouldn't. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">But being the only minor in the family, I always obliged. That or I endure continuous poking from my dad to wake up. "Mainit na bato sa kalsada," he'd loudly say, you'd think he had a megaphone in hand.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">As a teenager, my going to mass wasn't as wholehearted still. I remember being eager to complete the nine dawn masses during Christmas season just because I had a crush on one of the altar boys. Very good motivation, right?</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Now, on my twenties, I voluntarily go to mass. Not because my parents told me so. Not because I like one of the altar boys (at my age, isn't that already child abuse? haha). But because I love God and I decided to grow in faith and love with Him. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">As single adults, we are at the stage where we can do absolutely anything. We choose our paths. We design our lives. We make our own decisions. Yes, there may be people who give directives on how to run our lives, but each decision still lies with us.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Last Sunday, I saw more than 40 single men and women who decided to respond to God's call. Though only a simple gathering and meet-up session, the Singles' Huddle was an initial step toward realizing a single life anchored on God. On the next Huddle, I hope to see more single people making the same decision.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><img _cke_saved_src="images/singles.jpg" alt="alt" src="http://feastalabang.com/images/singles.jpg" style="height: 360px; width: 480px;" /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">You are no longer a kid. Not a teenager either. You are a single adult with a decision to make, not out of fear but out of love for your God.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">So, what's your decision?</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1864251349837894366.post-76441838757800996242011-04-08T09:24:00.001+08:002011-04-08T09:49:08.507+08:00Just School Stuff<div style="text-align: justify;">She opened the candy-colored paper bag and brought out the fillings one by one. Out went a box of crayons, a sheet of stickers, and a notebook, to which she immediately said "Ah, I'll use this as scratch paper instead." Then, there were a mini notepad, a bookmark, a few colored pencils, a pencil case, and a small stuff toy. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">After littering the bed with everything the tiny paper bag used to hold, she turned to me, <em>"Ate Osy, you should give me more of these. Just school stuff. Like the dozen of pens, crayons, and colored markers you gave me last Christmas. Don't give me toys. I've grown tired of them anyway." </em></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">I thought she won't appreciate the birthday gift I had for her. But as I see her leave the room, paper bag in an embrace, I knew I was wrong. She loved the gift, however simple it was, and she knew she wanted it. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">My 8-year-old cousin Maraj knew what she wanted: <em>Just school stuff, Ate Osy</em>. Whereas, there I was, not knowing what I wanted for myself. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">For the past weeks, I've been haunted by a thought that has grown consistently since that day I met the Idol. Did I make a wrong decision? Did I just let go of my biggest dream? Did I really ditch the job I've always wanted? </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">I was offered an editorial job in the magazine I so wanted to be a part of since I joined the community. But I refused. Why? Because of proximity, the possible financial decline, and the lifestyle change. I could think of a million other reasons to justify my weird decision, but lately, it has just boiled down to one: comfort zone, and how I don't want to get out of it. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">I wanted the job, but I feared my lack of expertise. I wanted the working environment, but I feared the unfamiliarity. I wanted the fulfillment of the dream, but I feared the changes it will bring. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Fear got in the way. Fear overcame the dream. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">God, is there any other way to remedy this? Did I really make a wrong choice?</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1864251349837894366.post-86251808144994954432011-03-31T13:19:00.002+08:002011-03-31T13:22:16.793+08:00Zzz...I didn't want to get out of bed today, but I had no choice. I had to lest I lose my job.<br />
<br />
My cellphone-turned-alarm-clock sounded off at 8am. I winked as I search for the nuisance under my pillow. Argh, 8am. Do I get up? Nah.<br />
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By some unknown force, I never want to leave my bed this morning. I am dead tired, I could trade places with Sleeping Beauty anytime.<br />
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Recently, my month has just turned into one long week. Every single day requires me to get up, prepare for the ton of things to do, leave the house, and arrive home late. Every darn single day.<br />
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I don't have weekends. Heck, the weekends are ironically my busiest days.<br />
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Lord, please grant me a few days off. I desperately need rest. That, or I think I'll go crazy.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0