did i mention that i want to take up piano lessons again? i dialled up a. salonga one time at work, thinking it's high time to keep my left hand moving. every time i play my tita's piano, it's just my right making the sound. if this works out, i would like to form my own band, and we'll bring the blues here in cebu.

that is a top priority in my budgeting, but as it turns out, it shares that spot with two others -- diving lessons (freaking P12, 000!!!) and Boracay trip with sisters and cousins in July. i think i'll drop boracay. i'll see my cousins when they get back.

looking at this, i realized the macbook fantasy is far down in my list already, so is my one-way ticket to australia. at the rate i'm going with my list of the things i want to do, i'll be broke by 25.

am i too mean at my being 21?

first shots of the go-go family
(anya's photos at mamitarodriguez.multiply.com)

before going all the way to moalboal, we stopped by at the unchuan farm in barili for a breakfast of goat cheese, fresh cow milk, chorrizo, egg produced at the farm. the spotlight is on sara, the pomeranian (carried by carlyn above). after ostrich viewing and carlyn's "brokeback mountain" referrence to the horses, we drove to moalboal in a convoy.

our home for four days in moalboal. you can see the balcony on the second floor that connects to the biggest room in the house. iana and i slept at the masters' bed when all the parents moved to the nearby club serena on the third day. at one night, more than 17 people slept at this room. for 2 nights, more than 45 people slept at this house. that's all of us.
there is a direct exit to a great spot in moalboal's white beach -- sand, cool waters, magnificent coral display just 30 feet from the shore and of course, space for tingtong's case of red horse beer and ice bucket.
extra plugging: it's a very nice place to stay in, perfect for big families.

out in the beach: 1) what's in moalboal -- perfect material for sand castles, cool green waters, sunshine, and an occasional model's body 2) the skinny kenny and john with iana, the momentary bold star 3) the all too willing enrique 4) the prim and proper and always hesitant santi 5) the beach is a 24-hour affair for these kids 6) momentary home in a strange land 7) iana, melissa, tito jaime and john discussing.. at the beach? 8) melissa, iana and alyssa gearing up for a race
  


this is how kanahan looks like in the family: melissa, carlyn and iana



rodriguezes, the chinese way: siblings patrick, chloe and yasmine.
i asked 2-yr-old yassy if she misses manila and she answered, "not yet."



1) the sundown that always comes in all good things (and reasonably so) 2) our famous nestea, take the plunge umbrella that nestle should be paying us for for a successful yet silent plugging -- tito papao? 3) santi, one of our two cousins who is all prim and proper (the other one is yassy); the rest pretty much have gone gung ho, the rodriguez way. somebody commented that the only way to make santi as gung-ho would be to make him spend days at josh's household (you'll meet him here soon) 4) san, take a shower, it's water

invading the kawasan falls.






1) the twins getting the diving information load at the swimming pool 2) patrick blowing into one suit's arm 3) only tito bingcol among the male rodriguezes signed up for the intro diving, the rest were girls (should that say anything about mamita's boys???). at the last minute though, tito bingcol got the cramps so he didn't dive anymore 4) yeah cai! 5) on the way... 6) it was mentioned that tita rina and tita didang (the coolest titas i should say) made the most kanahan students... 7) with tita rina being the most questionera... 8) ...and tita didang in second place.. 9) that's wolfgang, the instructor. while filling up my diver's logbook, he told me, "you should not use this book to show to other people, but also use this book for yourself." yes sir! FYI, his record depth at free diving (that's diving without the oxygen tank) is 200 m down (as in down there). 9) to the deep blue sea, aye!

the go-go story: so tito jaime calls our family the go-go family. it figures since he comes from a pure and conservative spanish family from manila, whom his wife and our cool, cool tita didang fondly calls the stay-stay family.

kuya's pics and mine to follow. :)

tonight, i watched Home Alone II again. i lost track of the number of times i've seen this movie but when i ran into it while switching channels, i was automatically glued. this is one movie that i never get tired of as it reminds me about a LOT of what i cherish: 1) Christmas 2) family 3) dreams of a white Christmas 4) a sober Macaulay Culkin 5) The Christmas Song.

after, it was a toss between kiss kiss, bang bang and walk the line. the latter i remember have so many copies at the video store i am a subscriber of so i watched the former and slept 3/4s down the movie. sucks that even with my 10-minute attention span, i had a good grip on the plot and sucks more that this is fast becoming a practice -- missing endings i mean.

robert downey jr fits in his role as a robber who chanced upon a movie audition while being chased by a cop. his partner in crime (no pun intended) just died so he was very convincing when the talent agents asked him to play the role of a cop whose partner just died. the next scene would see him in a party with hollywood hotshots... i will not continue because i would just be compelled to say the rest of the plot, that is, what i caught before i doze off. 

there's another movie in which i so love downey's presence: a scanner darkly as recommended by alex, that ex-crush of mine and current boyfriend of my dear friend jessa. he plays a victim of a split personality-inducing drug called substance d who turns the tables on his fellow drugmates slash friends. he is natural at whistle blowing and back stabbing.

it would not be too much of a digression if i talk now about macaulay culkin. yes, the most recent that we've seen or heard of him tied him down to his failed marriage, rehab visits, no-career career, damaged image. this is very sad because this same guy charmed all of us as a little boy. he made me gush in my girl, laugh in Home Alone I and II, sigh in Rocket Gibraltar (i think he was at his cutest in this movie).

now, he's smoking in photo shoots! i think there's only 1 thing to add here: even celebrities (seemingly immortal while young) grow up. look at christina ricci, drew barrymore, brad renfro.

let's wait for dakota fanning in 10 years.

we all wished he never grew up...
but he did.

and anybody would swear he served time for something...

someday, i will blame my forgetfullness for missing the opportunity of a dream job. i always forget my log-in ID and password at jobstreet and sadly, have a patience just a second short of ending the long wait to creating a new password. tonight however, i was a bit more kind to my dreams and actually made a major lift to my resume. abs-cbn is looking for 20 creative writers and the chances of ranking 19 may be as slim as getting the guts to leave for australia tomorrow, but hey, i'm leaving next year (that would put me at number 23, sucks!). a little secret though: i'm really hoping to make it to #19.

present time, as in today, i got so bored that i finished all the snacktime food my colleague setty and i bought in ayala that's supposedly worth for one week. but you know these stories -- my apparent despise for work and the everyday hero that is food binging -- so let's skip it all together.

last night, i was watching everyone's all american in HBO when manang conching bluntly approached me and said, "ay, nawala na diay si upper iv". whew, i thought i lost my earplugs. it's just my dog lang pala. big deal.

NOT!!!! for the first time since poochie went out of our house and never tapped our gates again like a prodigal daughter asking to be fed again would, i panicked. tingtong and his friends got drunk the other, other night and the first two things that occured to me was 1) one of his friends dognapped upper 2) they thought he was a skinny, badly-fed hog and deep-fried him (pulutan pare!). not funny; and either thought, i was worried.

am i a bad, bad, bad dog owner, so bad that two dogs have already bailed out on me? is twoshe keeping a blueprint of her own escape from my clutches as well (hmmm)? aren't they happy enough when i call them, "my love"? if it's about being virgin for far too long, how could they have known what it'sike not being virgin? and if i should take after where young grandparents direct their blame for sudden apos: should i blame the media for my dog's escape as well?

where is upper?

let me now set aside my initial worry of being called a bad, bad dog owner, my imminent failure if my taking-care-of-dogs conscience will be tested, my pride. what if...

upper is being raped
upper is lost and could not find her way back (i cried last night over this most pessimistic thought) 
upper is dognapped
upper will never come back

?

the heat in the city makes you want to whither and die. the heat at the beach makes you want to embrace the brightness around you. i just got back from jollibee where i had lunch, walking under the fiery sun, through the mad traffic, surrounded by everything industrial.

i'm already thinking about 2 weeks after. we are off to cagayan for the BCBP annual meeting. we already made reservations for white water rafting and my toes are all jumpy at the 30 feet (?) leap you have to brave yourself for before the wild river cruise. i am just jumpy.

after that is the weekend reunion of the martinezes -- from davao, from manila, from bogo, from cebu city, from ormoc, from a lot of other places. i can't speak of excitement since no such thing ever happens in these reunions. it's all niceness -- of seeing mamita hanging out with those she spent her her childhood days with, niceness of our parents hanging out with their cousins, niceness of rekindling the importance of the days that once mattered. in our generation, that's expectedly not the case. there's rarely niceness. you see a lot of frowns, which sadly you get a lot when you are chocolate colored and your relatives are mestizas.

nasty.

have to get back to work. play at present (as in my non-ending "dear diary, i hate my work" drama): this is where i am, cannot help it kay matud pa ni tio perok, "work and earn so you can do what you want" (he was clearly referring to my excitement over pursuing a diver's life). yes sir!

a secret: i hate my job so much i'm seriously thinking of going call girl just so i could pay for diving lessons.

beaaaaaaaaaaaaaaatch.

i daydream of vast fields of corals stretched as far as my vision under water can take me. i daydream of nemo the clown fish peeking out of his home -- the only coral i could name at this second -- aninomy (unfortunately, i could not spell right). i daydream of sinking my ugly feet under white sand, not necessarily the powdery sand you find in boracay. just as long as they are lighter than yellow and we can build sand fortresses out of them. i daydream of shivering in the cold of the sea breeze at night. i daydream of a fiery sun and near ice cold water, burning my back and chilling my face at the same time, a sensation i would pay for at any time i'm riding a jeep or walking the length of mango square at this hellish hot season. i daydream of small town talk and walk and miles away from "civilization". i daydream of leaving it all and living the beach life. 

i am drowning. the other night, i was having a foot spa at btc's touch and heal and slept to the eerie lullabye of broken social scene. i woke up in a jolt, with a foot almost stepping on that orange coral that had short stem sprouts as soft as the pancit bihon, too soft they swayed along the course of the waves. i actually woke up from that dream, from the mortal sin to underwater ethics.

not that i did not sin while i was an inch away from the corals. i could not helping feeling them and gushing at their every touch -- the short stem sprouts, the mushroomy-surface of most corals (they look stone hard, but they're actually as soft as our skin), the dancing hair going upward (one of which is the animony). the underwater life at moalboal is like a virgin forest always wanting and waiting to be discovered even though they've already been discovered and in fact, is always in the lists of the best dive spots in the country. my tito paolo, a licensed diver, attests that it's one of the best he's seen.

the best thing about moalboal -- which is fast, fast, fast becoming or has already become one of the best places i've ever been to -- is that appreciation for the underwaters is not only reserved to those in space suits and tank backpacks. those who don't mind crossing the line between clear swimming waters and the deep blue sea is invited to partake in this spoiled undertaking. it's a gift for everyone. especially at 6 in the morning and starting at 5-530 in the afternoon when you only need to make 30 steps from the shores to be with these corals.

a contrasting statement here as i've realized from my 10-feet intro dive: swimming with a space suit and with a tank at the back is not so elite as it seems. it's a heavy but endearing experience (heavy is the tank, endearing is being THAT close to the corals) mixed with healthy bouts of bravery. armed with these, my cousins, some aunts and i signed up for the intro dive at club serena. in a nutshell, it was the closest i ever got to swimming by the cantil (for the clueless, this is visayan for a cliff in the sea, characterized by a sudden darkness in the sea). it was the first time i touched corals (wrong but still did it anyway). it was the closest i ever got to nemo. it was the first time i stayed under water for almost half an hour. it was the first time i wanted to swim to the darkness (unfortunately, they did not take us there). it was too close to a dream come true for me that indeed, it was dream that came true for me.

ever since hinotungan, being surrounded by fish, and swimming just 5 feet above the corals, i've always found myself getting too close to obsessing about the stupid idea of living under water. the intro dive was the healthiest dose of living this stupidity that i've ever allowed myself, and/yet i am yearning for more. (my sister's friend maimai once said, "no way your first dive would ever be your last")

the same group of starting "divers" -- as in me, some cousins, and my aunts (strange, we are all women) -- are planning to "dive" in southern leyte before mita's bday bash (it's almost because of the news of a hottie australian dive master that sets this plan on fire but not totally). we already got our diver's logbooks (heeeeeeeeeelas, but yeah, i paid $10 for it).

i am going to get a life, and if it only takes me underwater and not on top, then so be it. take my word for once: this is the closest you can get to God's idea of beauty (the marine life generally), grace (the hairy corals swaying perfectly to the dance of the waves) and paradise (the underwaters).

it occured to me that i was the only one watching TV last saturday. among the most notable (and i mean, those who mean to me) who partied and partied hard last saturday were my sisters iana and maica, and cousins carlyn, alyssa and vincent, and carlyn's boyfriend, francis and a badminton champion from indonesia named ryan. to the words of iana, alyssa knows how to party and carlyn knows how to dance (yeaaaaahhhhhhhh, says who? says francis? hehe, love you cai). iana also had to mention that kuyang is learning fast to drink/learning to drink fast (whichever sounds safer in case this gets to dear tita judy, his mother). just to let you know, alyssa is only 15 and kuyang is approaching college.

gawd, i'm old. on a saturday night, i was watching bobby flay beat that guy who masters mexican cuisine in iron chef america..

BTW, kuyang just got back with his parents from his first visit to what would be his home for the next few years. iana noted how kuyang already had a smile on his face when she asked him how excited he was for college -- unlike the past few weeks before the visit when he would just do his very fashionable i-don't-care-i-just-furnished-my-valedictory-speech shrug. 

his first comment to my sister was, "ate, i found out i don't need to shop for too many clothes, the people there didn't even dress well". dear kuyang, we don't want you to dress well; we just want to fill up your closet with clothes that will last you for two weeks. 

would you believe this guy only has 7 shirts? i love this cousin.

this is one reason i want this summer to stretch and cover all 365 days in the calendar -- even just by theory or imagination! when june starts, there will be a lot of changes. i hope there will be a big one for myself.

a few posts ago, i  mentioned how vera my dearest reader calls this blog her bridget jones' read and thinking about that saturday night at home while everybody was out partying, i guess there is a bridget jones in me (the only difference to note is that she was pigging out on food while i was pigging out on 21 year old insecurities and questions). 

my ultimate bridget jones however is my cousin carla. she dropped by last night with her new guy, ryan (both her elder sisters are married to bryans, she's dating a ryan, now her younger sister is pressured to look for an ian). their story reads better than anything hollywood has shown and the best thing is that both their versions of this story ran along the same notes, with the same level of excitement, in the same atmosphere of amazement, love, magic (wow).

just 2-3 months after her tragic relationship with that tragic manileño, carla is in love again. so the story goes: they were set up by a common friend. ryan was based in manila. a week after they started text messaging, he surprised her by showing up for dinner here in cebu. a few more moments equal to grannie's wave of her wand, i see my cousin in love again. this means for her delaying her long-planned move to the US, loving herself more, being happy, smiling, and healed.

maybe at the start ryan was just a cure from that tragic relationship; but looking at the two of them now, the start is over. this is not just a cure that rarely is needed after the healing. she's healed and he's hooked.

drugs? nah, try love.

happy for you ca.

Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us.  
Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you. We were all meant to shine, as children do. It's not just in some of us, it's in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others. taken from coach carter

while it has always been a reminder of what's not so happy in my 21st year, my work now as i am counting the last fewwwww days to the Holy Week break is like a devil in fiery red boots, guarding my entrance to that oh-so-sought-after time away from everyday...

and the days... the way they tick off to thursday makes me want to choke whoever claimed that snails make the slowest movement on earth. count the days to thursday and you'll know what's slow...

to thursday now: the whole family will be off to moal-boal, making this year's Holy Week the first in the past decade that we are not spending in mita's beach house in albuera. i really prefer having it at the albuera beach house, but for some reason, the rest of the family think it would be something new to spend some time away from it instead -- sadly, of all times, they had to choose Holy Week.

when i look at pics from the past Holy Weeks, this beach house is the one object that never seemed to change (well except for some renovations here and there). the rest of us have changed, as most obviously seen in my cousins under 5. looking at these pictures from the past years is like looking at the growth of these cousins. i believe growth is more evident when you're young but when you're in your 20s, growth is not so evident -- must be the fact that kids are keen on growing up while those in their 20s would rather be, well, 20 forever. (i for one)

so that big, big, big worry aside...there's a big chance i'm going to have my first  scuba diving ahhhh. i've been wanting to do it for years but a lot of things -- from finance, companionship to accessibility -- have also been keeping me away from it. hopefully, i finally get this chance to dive. yea!

i've seen a part of the open water (i didn't watch the whole thing because it was approaching evening, i was alone and i already imposed a strict rule in behalf of my paranoia and scaredy cat-ness that i cannot watch anything scary in the evenings especially when i'm alone -- yep, even for movies that don't have samara, etc) and that scared the bones out of me but imagine if i take away my eagerness to get in to water sports, then i'm only left with my books and music. i am already a plain jane; if i take away daydreams of water sports, it's like putting on floor-length skirts and long-sleeved blouses. great, great, great grandma, is that you? 

it was only last year when i first got on a jet-ski on my own. that's too late for my jet-ski racing dreams but heck, i've even just decided to take piano lessons. nothing's too late i guess just as long as one has the access, money and determination -- which is not to say i have the access, money and determination. i guess over here in my blog, talk is really cheap. 

anyway, i'm counting on more free access to jet-skiing. last year, everybody raced to go jet-skiing but on the last day, i took the role of finishing up the gasoline. i already had my menstruation so when i got up, there was a big stain on the back of my beige shorts (eeeeek! and it was reddddddddddd! duh). i just love speed on the water. whichever way i get it, i hope i do get it.

over the weekend and over my excitement, i was at home the WHOLE time, only getting out to attend mass at the village church. i realized then i didn't know how to balance being SO bored and being SO excited, SO i just stayed at home. among  other movies, i watched coach carter and crush on a black lead for the first time. (i have to look up his name first).

i appreciated it. at the part when cruz made his speech (went something like, "when you made us shine, we allowed others to shine..." very bad and very wrong version but i'll look up the actual words for you... coming!), i cried more than carter did. it's just great that MTV is doing a production such as this, especially that it's what this yabag generation listens to. 

5 thumbs up (i know looking for the other 3 won't be so difficult).