this boy is in love with Mylot and Giordano

I casually met this online friend at Mylot forum where he expressed his concern regarding improving traffic in his site. I posted a response and after a few hours, I found his link
http://inhairstudio.blogspot.com in my other blog site at www.blogchex.com/everydaywear
Wasting no time I made my visit to his site and at a glance I knew that I was in a boy's blog site. All the clues were there, the page design, the trendy stuff and the youthful language told me that the site owner is a young guy of Asian origin. He loves to wear Giordano clothes and is currently very much involved with Mylot, a discussion site where the blogger frequently hangs out. This guy's site is a combination of everything. It is a blog, a helpful search engine, and a store. I was amused by his account of a girl he knows could be suffering from some "mental illness". You may want to read this boy's rant about his brother's ex-gf who he calls "mentally ill".

the first candle

The desire and act of one blogger to get linked with another blog site is like lighting a candle to start lighting the candles of many others in order to create conflagration or what everybody wants---TRAFFIC. The first one to light the candle is a young man who has a total of four (4) blogs while at the same time is actively participating at Mylot forum. He is probably the busiest college student at the University where he studies, and all these interesting twists and turns in a student's life while in school, are contained in his blog at www.blogchex.com/karl/ This young man has all the ingredients of success about him. Although I have not met him personally but his blogs tell me a lot about his energy and endurance to pursue what he believes is or are good for him. His other blogs, www.karolejoseph.blogspot.com www.blogcharm.com/hugyawan
www.blogcharm/travelsite.com will tell you more about him as well as his school and the city where he lives. You will find beautiful pictures of his school life and scenic views of the city by day and by night. All in all, reading this young man's blogs gives you a taste of youth and action. You might want to see for yourself.

Public speaking

My affair with public speaking started many years back in Grade School when my Grade 6 teacher chose me to be one of the contestants for a declamation contest. That was the beginning. My teacher thought my voice quality was good and that I pronounced words well. This was further proven when the best speakers in the class were asked to audition for certain parts of the graduation play. The audition consisted of reading out a text from a book. I could not forget Mrs. Godinez at that time who was requested by the school to direct the play and personally handpick the pupils who played the different roles. I got the role of Mother Philippines, Sylvia Marino was Justice, Myrna Ragay played the role of Peace, and Sherree Badon was the graduate. There were other values portrayed by other classmates like Lilibeth Bongalos, Roberto Godinez, Clarissa Acebo, and others. From there, my participation in stage presentations that required public speaking became more frequent. I was a candidate for a "tula"contest in high school played the biggest part in a school play during the Founders' Day of St. Louis School where I was Hannah in a horror play entitled "Frost- bitten". The characters were limited to only three---Sherree, Elvie and myself. It was a very successful play and I wish I could get hold of the entire script of that play so I could stage it today. I hope Google will be helpful.

sad, sad music

Last night as I was working on my discussions at Mylot and doing a blog at www.blogchex.com/everydaywear/ I was filled with so much sadness when the radio played one very touching and painful song, "Somewhere In Time". The music just brought in a flood of memories from lost youth and suddenly I realized the depth of loneliness this music creates each time I hear it. I used "Somewhere in Time" as background music to a radio program I used to have many years back and it was partly because of what the music did to my feelings which made me effectively deliver each life's story with great success. It was a radio program with DYWC entitled "Kini And akong Kaagi" where I used Inday Tess as radio name. Today, the music still succeeds in wringing my heart and bringing back memories that happened at a time and place so far away.

Naughty

Naughty was the name we gave to the first pet my two kids had. I had always been a dog-lover since I was a kid myself but when I had my own children I knew that having a pet dog would have several complications. So we did not have any pets at all until one day we heard the cries of a puppy somewhere near the house. The househelp said it came from the vacant area nearby and it was from a cute white puppy which was obviously abandoned by whoever it was that owned it. My two children and I went to the place where we saw a white and very cute puppy which seemed very lost. The abandoned puppy wagged its tail when I tried to whistle for it. However, thoughts of the complications of having one dog in the house made me decide against it but my kids wouldn't hear of it most especially when the puppy followed us. That was when I consented and adopted the puppy which was female, probably the reason why it was thrown away by its owner. We named her Naughty because she had been quite playful who destroyed many of our things. Naughty soon gave us more puppies than we could handle. Her first batch of litters consisted of nine healthy puppie of different colors: black, brown, white, spotted, striped. She delivered them inside the house and we even assisted her for she wanted us to be there when she delivered them one by one. That experience was followed by many more deliveries for even when she was already old, Naughty continued to bring forth more and more puppies.

first job

I worked as editorial assistant at Philippine Journal of Education for almost a year with Mrs. Paz Marquez Benitez who was already 83 years old at that time but still actively editing the magazine. That was my first job and I loved it because it was my dream work---to get into a publishing company. In the morning I was assigned in the editorial office and in the afternoon I was working in the Cirlculation Department answering letters from subscribers. The editor, Mrs. Benitez , only worked mornings so we got to get out of the editorial office in the afternoon. My most unforgettable experience there was when the Managing Editor, Ret. Gen. Licuanan, gave me a tough assignment to direct/supervise the taking of pictures around Metro Manila for the whole year's back covers.Provided with a car and necessary provisions, we scoured the big and small places of Manila looking for suitable pictures to be taken that could be used for our monthly back covers for the entire year. The procedure was for us to first secure the permission of our subjects by letting them sign a waiver before we took their pictures. We were able to follow this procedure on all our thirty five shots except for the last one which was that of an ice cream vendor giving a cone of ice cream to a little boy. It was the photographer who said that it wasn't a good scene and the General surely wouldn't choose that. The photographer was very wrong. When proofs of the scenes we took were spread before the meticulous eyes of the General for him to choose to best photo to land on the back cover of our January issue, guess what he chose? Yes, he had his eyes on the photo of the ice cream vendor and the little boy whose pants were two sizes too big for him. When the General asked for the waiver, I knew that I should find and shoot the photographer for putting me into that situation. However, I had to save my neck, so I told the General quite bravely that I had all the waivers of all the photos except that." But I could give you the waiver you need in fifteen minutes", I assured Gen. Licuanan.
Like a General that he was, he commanded me to do just that. I rushed to the photographer and demanded for a blow-up shot of the picture immediately so I could read the address of the ice cream factory which was painted on the cart. He did it in seconds and I was out into the streets looking for that ice cream vendor whose signature could mean my getting axed from my first job or not. Luckily, after a few minutes of waiting, the man appeared . I told him that he was going to be on the back cover of our magazine, was it okay with him? He sheepishly smiled and asked if he had to pay for that. " No", I said, " all you need to do is sign the waiver form." And he did. I was back in the office before closing time and kept my first job.

Jesus

That's the name of my father---Jesus. But my father wasn't the son of God. In fact, he was one of the most unique fathers I've ever known. For one, he was the homemaker, the one who did the marketing and cooking for the family while my mother pedalled the sewing machine to support the family's needs. Indeed, ours was truly a unique family for it was my mother who earned the daily bread and it was my father who prepared our food. When my father was young, he used to be a drunkard and a chain smoker. He had gotten out of the first bad habit late in life but the smoking continued until he died at 72. But we all loved him although he had his bad side like his habit of picking fights with some neighbors. He was not afraid of anything. He was fierce and was always ready to start a fight with anyone who'd hurt or harm us. Ironically, he never hurt any member of the family. In fact he was always my mother's "errand man", never complaining, always aiming to please her. My friends and classmates would always compliment my father's good looks. He was a very handsome man who could sing like a pro while my mother was just a simple woman who could only carry a simple tune. They were an "odd" couple that was why nanay's sisters never approved of their relationship for they knew that my mother was just swept off by his good looks. He must have seen my mother's inner beauty for him to leave his first wife with whom he had eight children in order to be with my mother until he died.

second delivery

My second child was delivered in a local government hospital because the cost of giving birth in a private hospital was just too much. Anyway, babies just get delivered whether you have the money or not. What is important is that you know how to hold your breath and push properly. This I learned from my mother who only finished Grade 6. When I noticed blood spots on the ninth month, I wasted no time and went to the hospital, this time expecting to have my second child. Without much ceremony I was instructed to proceed to the delivery room where I once again revealed my "soul" to those around. In public hospitals patients do not have much choice. Hospital people just walk in and out of its swinging door and even the maintenance crew can get as much glimpse of what they are not supposed to see----your very soul. I was doing my labor in a most laborious fashion because the delivery table did not have any handles or clutches for me to hold on to as the pain progressed. My two arms were dangling from the sides of the bed and at that moment I only had the face of my mother as she demonstrated how a real "utong" can lead to a faster delivery. Yes! I made it after two "utongs". But the pains of giving birth does not stop there. The following morning when you're still bleeding and your wound is still fresh, a sweet young nurse who never had any child, comes in to tell you to stand up and wash. This is supposed to be "early ambulation" when mothers are encouraged to move around after delivery. But what the heck! This was my body and I knew when it was capable of moving and being washed. Likethe first time I followed my body. No. I did not stand up to wash myself for I felt like my body would split if I did. It was an aide who did that---that's their job.

giving birth Part II

Of course I did not die during my first delivery. If I did I wouldn't be able to post this. However, that initial experience at childbirth caused some amount of "fear" in me that I vowed never to have another one again. But fate just wins all the time and before I knew it I was already expecting another baby. I just had to accept everything as part of life. Unlike my first delivery which was in a private hospital for CDCP Mining employees, my second one happened in a public or government hospital. This time it was my mother who showed me how to make real successful "utong" for a successful and faster issue. I could still remember her face acting out, grimacing and holding her breath for a long, long time showing me how I could cheat by breathing for a sec and immediately pushing right after. I did just that and delivered my second baby after only two "utongs".

giving birth

One of the most harrowing but unforgettable experiences I had was giving birth to my two children. The first one was particularly difficult. I could remember vividly on September 16, 1983 that I was in my last morning class when I started to feel some pains around my stomach. I did not expect to give birth yet for my sister told me before this that I would experience terrible pains when I was going to deliver the baby. At that time the pain was just bearable so I thought it could only be some gas. I still did the cooking for lunch bearing the pain when I remembered what the doctor said on my last visit-- to see her when I felt any pain. So my husband and I headed to the hospital right after lunch. I told the nurse that I was there for check up because I was feeling some pain. The nurse pointed to a door marked "Delivery Room" so I said, "I am not here to deliver a baby. I am here for a check up." But she still motioned me to the delivery room. My heart began to beat wildly for I was not prepared to deliver a baby at that moment. My thoughts were negative, that I was not going to make it, that I was going to die. I cried like I've never cried before because I was so afraid at that time. As I stepped into that room, I was given a hospital gown and a pair of sanitized slippers. I could not believe it! I was going to have a baby and I did not know if I was going to make it or not. Stories had been told about how giving birth could cost the life of a woman. It is a woman's ultimate test of endurance and I knew that a woman so thin like myself at that time has little chances of surviving this test of tests.In the labor room I was instructed to do as I wished---lie down, stand up, whatever while experiencing labor pains. So I asked, "Isn't there any way of alleviating the pain?" The pain had progressed into unbearable level. It was only around 3:00 in the afternoon and the doctor said that I was going to have the baby middle of the night yet. Imagine having to bear the pain from three 0'clock until midnight. However, things have moved faster for at around 4:00 I felt something "burst" in where the baby was supposed to come out. So I called the nurse who immediately transferred me to the delivery room where I was shaved and prepared for the delivery. The doctor had to be recalled for I was going to have the baby at that moment and not at midnight. Then the ordeal began.A young nurse, obviously fresh from college and single, was giving me instructions as to how I was going to hold my breath and push when the time came. I did exactly as instructed but the progress was next to nothing. I could not push the baby out. Nurses were helping me by encouraging me to push. At eight 0'clock in the evening they became worried for I was supposed to deliver the baby already. The hospital at CDCP Mining in Basay did not have any equipment for a caesarian delivery so the doctor decided to cut me and pull the baby out. I closed my eyes when the doctor told me that she had given me local anesthesia so she could start cutting me there. I closed my eyes and said, "This is it. I am now going to die."

acceptance

Years back, growing old was such a painful thought. I had to do a lot of lying regarding my age. I would take off five to 8 years from my age because "old" seemed to be an embarrassing thing in the past. However, after meeting and talking with a lot of "seniors" especially on the net, I have come to terms with the reality of my age. Now I can say my real age without any guilt because I am now able to accept the fact that I am already 52 years old. Some people say I look younger anyway, so that should be a bit of a consolaltion. And probably my having my first and only granddaughter who is now four years old has a lot to do with this. I am 52 and a grandma. But my granddaughter calls me mommy. Her real mommy, my daughter, fell in love at the wrong time with the wrong person. She got pregnant at 16 and became a mother at 17. Because of her tender age, I had to play a major task in raising the baby. All these and the things that are happening now are accepted as part of life and I am thanking our Creator for all the things He had given me and my family.

frustrated ballerina

I know that I would have been a very good choreographer now, teaching others how to dance instead of teaching Literature, had my late mother supported my desire to enrol at a ballet school when I was a young girl of 10. All my friends , neighbors and playmates were enrolled at a nearby ballet school where I would watch and wait outside instead of learn the steps with them because my mother wouldn't hear me. I'd been pleading on the verge of tears that I would like to enrol but she wanted none of it, said that it would only forcibly stretch and destroy our fragile bodies. Looking back now, I think I was very pathetic for I was dying to dance with them as I watched their practices everyday. At home, I would lock myself in a room and follow or imitate all their moves. I watched all their concerts even if I had to go alone. And after each concert I would try to do the dances by myself even if it was in the middle of the night. Oh, how I loved ballet then. I still love to dance and can already afford to go to a ballet school but I am too old for that. I guess I will forever remain a frustrated ballerina for I never got to wear those tutus and dancing shoes.