TOPAZ HORIZON

It's Valentine's Day today but my head's not there because tomorrow is Vince's birthday. All he wants is a video game. Again. I've been giving him video games for the last eight or so years and I'm really starting to think I'm a horrible gift giver. I've given Vince shirts, toys, shoes but nothing makes him as happy as the latest video game. So I'm giving him (surprise!) a PS3 game tomorrow.

Now when it comes to gifts, Vince is very very good. He gives me the best gifts! Special edition books, quirky stuff like my hot pink Christmas tree, roses as big as my fist, my diamond engagement ring... Then there are the poems and love letters! He's an A+ when it comes to gifts. But let me tell you about my favorite gift of all.

When Vince and I met, he was a talented writer from a rich family, lived in a posh gated neighborhood, drove his own car, had a lucrative advertising career. I was a nobody. His girlfriends were these beautiful women who were incredibly rich and glamorous. I was a nobody and I owned three pairs of shoes. His friends were jetsetters who talked about diving in Palau, shopping in Hong Kong, summers in Spain. I was a nobody who's never been anywhere. I honestly didn't know what he saw in me.

One afternoon, Vince and I were walking in a mall when I saw this beautiful red velvet bag. It was small and it was hand-beaded completely with shiny beads and sequins. I ran my hands over the bag and said, "This is so beautiful, Vince!"

"Buy it," he said.

I put the bag back on the shelf and sadly said, "It's too pretty for me," and I put it out of my mind because back then we were so poor that to be happy, we just didn't dwell on things we didn't, couldn't have.

A few days later, Vince gave me a package and in it... was the red velvet bag. He said, "Everyone deserves to have something pretty. And you're beautiful."

That pretty much changed my life. I used to think I should just be content with my lot, to not want and ask for more because I didn't deserve anything good and beautiful. But with that one bag, Vince showed me that I'm special, that I'm somebody after all and the world was mine to conquer. Everything--jobs, friends, life--was easy after that.

The bag is not the most expensive gift Vince gave me, not even the prettiest, or rarest, or most fabulous. But it's my favorite because it changed my life. Thanks, Vincent. Happy hearts day and happy happy birthday!

Two weddings are coming up: Mariel's and Nikki's. We're all in a flurry of preparations but there'll be one friend missing from the parties--darling Kat.

Kat resigned from her job as the super chic fashion editor of Cosmopolitan to study fashion merchandising in NYC. Years ago, Kat and I would talk about further studies but since life was so good to us (my goodness, we have the best jobs in the world!), what was the point of leaving our cushy lives and becoming a student again? But she told me she wants to take up something fashion so she can work in the mega fashion brands of the world. I told her that I want to freshen up my literature and creative writing knowledge so I can--get ready for this--teach Koreans.


Kat said she was thinking of studying abroad. I said I was thinking of enrolling at an online university; after all, I can't leave my husband and rabbit to study! I already looked at schools like the London School of Journalism and Penn Foster Career School. The LSJ appeals to me because it's a British school and my favorite writers are British so obviously I would benefit from British teachers. The Penn Foster school is also known to have successful graduates and, like the LSJ, the courses are quite affordable. Someone sent me an email telling me to check out the online degree programs of Western Governors University but I was pretty disappointed that its offerings are mostly for those interested in business, IT, education, and the health industry. So while I'm sure it's a great school, it doesn't have anything to offer me.

Anyway, these are the stuff Kat and I would chat about late at night, interspersed with gossip and love stories and shopping finds. Then we'd laugh at ourselves for thinking such silly things ("School! So far out!") and we'd go back to our glam lives.


Little did I know that Kat was actually dead serious. A few months ago, she said she got accepted at the Fashion Institute of Technology. We were thrilled for her! And then she said, "I'm moving to New York City!" And our smiles died. The gang was losing one member and though we were so excited, we will miss her so.

Last month, Kat left for the US of A, her top concerns being: (1) how to fit all her clothes within her luggage capacity and (2) how to look fashionable and not freeze to death while doing so. Typical Kat, she's found solutions to (1)--it involves a smitten man!--and (2)--it involves creative layering. But being a student means no job which means save money, so she won't be able to fly back here to attend the weddings of our friends.  

When Vince and I went to London for our honeymoon, my biggest regret was not setting aside an entire three days for the National Gallery. We spent just three hours instead and then we had to catch the plane to Manila. We missed our plane but you can read more about London here (although back then, my posts were mostly written in Taglish).

Anyway, I took a few courses in Renaissance Art in college since I've always been fascinated with it when I was a kid. So when we entered the National Gallery and I saw the works of Da Vinci, Van Gogh, Titian, Holbein, Vermeer, Rembrandt, Monet... I completely lost it. I just cried! Seeing those paintings has got to be one of the most amazing things in my life and I will go back. And I will spend an entire hour staring at this:


This is a huge painting. It's bigger than my house, I think. This depicts the tragic conclusion of the life of Lady Jane Grey, Queen of England for a mere nine days. She was the grandniece of that notorious Henry VIII (he of the six wives) and though she was royalty and had the best life had to offer, she didn't have her parents' love. Their ambition was her undoing.

I won't do a history lesson here but I just wanted to say that this was my favorite painting in the precious few hours we spent at the National Gallery. Vince and I stood before this painting transfixed. It is absolutely stunning--the alabaster of her skin, the satin of her gown, the way she fumbled about for the chopping block, the gentle way she was assisted to her death, the distress of her maids, the calm of her executioner. And she was but 19 years old. Poor thing.

The painting is magnificent and Lady Jane truly does inspire some of the most remarkable art. WendyB, my gorgeous blogger friend who I admire and adore, has created a pendant inspired by the tragic Lady Jane.

Within the rock crystal teardrop are rubies, symbolizing blood and tears. It's one of the most beautiful things I've ever seen. And I want it! I'll have to earn tons of money to afford it, however, but I've already put that photo on my dream board and whatever I put on that board, I get!

UPDATES:
1. Interested in Jane's story? WendyB has a fun and easy post about her. Click here!
2. The necklace is about PHP 300,000.

*painting photo from Wikipedia, pendant photo from Wendy Brandes

Thanks everybody for your kind words. And to those who didn't have any kind words, fuck you.

I'm not going to talk about my pregnancy anymore or anything serious. I always said before that shallowness is the theme of this blog and yet I keep insisting on otherwise. I'm not just talking about the pregnancy; even my mother was criticized when I wrote about her recently. For Pete's sake, the woman is dead! Did ya forget to take your anti-depressants or something?

So let's go back to fun and vanity and frivolity. Better to be called stupid and vain than all the other nasty things I've been called recently. On to shopping! And parties! And shoes! And celebrities!

The previous post was interesting because some reader got offended by a comment I made and some readers reacted and then it became nasty and then I just had to not allow nasty comments anymore (the exchange is at my mommy blog--yes, I double post!). To be honest with ya, I found the exchange fascinating. I always liked controversy and dirt (which explains why I work in an entertainment magazine!) but since that is a mommy blog, I kinda figured I better clean it up since mommies seem to be expected to be positive and perfect. And since I'm spilling my guts there (and here) about how I feel about pregnancy and people around me (and guts aren't pretty), well, I'm rubbing people the wrong way.

First of all, I want to assure everybody that I love my unborn child. I hate feeling vomity and hungry and dizzy and tired and I certainly do not like my acne and the unsolicited advice being thrown at me left and right, but hey, it comes with the territory. I don't like what comes with the pregnancy but I love the kid that's causing all this fuss. The Jelly Bean is worth it.

Second, I'm honest but I'm not mean. People can't tell the difference. If you're fat and you ask me, "Hey, am I fat?", I will say, "Yes, you're fat." I will not mince words and I will not look away. But when I do say that, I'm not being nasty; I just answered your frikkin' question. So when I said in my previous post that I noticed that only ugly and unfashionable women tell me to stop trying to look good, I did mean that--that I'm fascinated with the fact that beautiful, kind and stylish women are encouraging and helpful while ugly women are nasty and discouraging. It's true! I wasn't being snarky when I wrote that; I was stating an observation.

Third, second point doesn't mean I'm a good and gentle person. If I were, this discussion won't even exist. I can be cruel and unkind. My friends and family call me "brutally honest" and they say this fondly but my family and friends are wonderful people who love me despite having been victims of my tongue. I've hurt a lot of people even though I didn't mean to. My sister once told me, "You're an editor so edit yourself!" As I've gotten older, I've learned to hold in my opinion, to lie even, but people can always tell if I'm lying. So now I say, "Ask me no questions and I'll tell you no lies."

Fourth, will my brutal honesty harm my child? I have no idea. My mother was just as brutal while my father's philosophy was, "Honesty is not always the best policy." I don't want to know why my father will live by that credo but in my experience, I appreciated my mother's truthfulness so I want to be just as truthful with my kid. But I do hope that wisdom and compassion will hold my tongue and, to be honest with ya, just right now, wisdom and compassion are two things I'm still learning about. So help me God!

Fifth, what does this mean for my blogging and my promise to be completely candid? Well, this means I'll still tell you how I really feel. And if you think I've said too much, do tell me. Sometimes I really am not aware if I'm already being hurtful. My husband, my friends, my brother and sister are always telling me to be careful, to shut up, to delete that post, etc. So tell me if I was out of line--I'm used to being told off and I don't get offended because I know how stupid and careless I can be. Also, if you notice, I don't really blog daily. That's because there are days I really really am miserable but I don't want to post it because I really don't want to record too much ugliness.

They say pregnancy is a beautiful thing. So far, it's been pretty ugly (sniff! sniff!). But I do have moments of happiness--the ultrasound and seeing that beautiful little Jelly Bean swimming about as we counted its fingers and toes (complete sets!), the gentle way my husband treats me and tells me I'm beautiful even though pimples have multiplied on my face and back, the way drivers will stop their cars or strangers will open doors when they see me waddling past, the way people's eyes light up when they find out I'm pregnant... There is kindness, too. And I'm happy to be honest about that!

As you can see, I'm not showing so much yet. Unless I spent the entire day eating, which I do. Since these were taken just before breakfast, no tummy yet. But by the time lunchtime rolled, people were asking to rub my distended belly.

Yesterday, I was telling some girls at work that when I was younger, I'd be in hospitals so much because of my asthma and my favorite thing to do was to grab my IV bag and visit the other patients and ask them about their lives, which was hell of a lot better to do than stare at my room's ceiling and listen to myself breathe. The girls at work didn't seem fascinated with my story and focused on only one thing: "Why were you alone? Wasn't your mom with you?" And I said, "Oh, Mama never really came to visit me when I was sick. She was only there to pick me up, and that's also because she had to pay the bill."

Mama, they looked at me like I had a terrible mother, and I guess the story did make you sound like one. Yikes! Thinking about it now, I never felt any resentment whenever you and Papa deposited me at the hospital and came back for me when the doctor said I was free to go. For one thing, I knew you had work. I also enjoyed being on my own; in fact, I enjoyed it so much, I couldn't wait to leave home and be independent! And if you hadn't left me alone so much, I wouldn't learn to love reading, to venture out by myself, to talk to strangers (which you never discouraged) and be interested in their stories, to explore a world outside my own, and to be happy with my own company. All those nights in the hospital never felt lonely because I fell asleep immediately--I had a full day chatting with doctors, nurses, patients and their relatives. I saw some really sick people, some of them died when I was there, which was sad because I had just met them, but I was a happy kid and you always told me there was a heaven.

Well, now you're in heaven and I'm glad you're there. Really! I know you had a hard life, Mama, so it's great you're living it up somewhere vastly more wonderful than here. I do miss you, especially now that I'm going to have a baby. I want to raise my child the way you raised me but apparently your way isn't popular anymore. Listening to all the unsolicited advice I get these days, one would think you were a truly terrible mother. "Children should be loved, you should never leave them alone, you shouldn't let them play outside, you shouldn't spank them, you should be their friend, you should feed them organic stuff only, etc ad infinitum nauseum." Mama, kids these days are coddled and treated like emperors, like they were the centers of their parents' universe. You always made it clear to me and my siblings that God was the first in your life, then Papa, then--if there were no other people who needed your help--then and only then do we enter the picture.

I kinda liked knowing that we weren't that special, Mama. For one thing, no one can ever accuse any of your children for being spoiled brats. We're kinda wonderful actually, all smart and talented and strong. People think your children are fantastic, Mama! And we are, we are indeed. So if anyone dare say your way was wrong, well, let's just see what kind of kids they bring up!

I think you understood parenting more than anyone these days. Parenting is for crazy people actually because it's a doomed relationship. From the moment your child takes its first breath, you teach it the skills to do just one thing: Leave you. And you, unlike most parents who just baby their children, you always pushed, pushed, pushed! And look where I am now! I know you're so proud, Mama.

To be honest, I wouldn't be who I am if you had always been there. Well, you were there for me by not being there all the time. Sometimes, I would feel you holding back, sometimes I felt you closed your eyes, sometimes I felt you turned away. All those times made me stronger, because I knew that though you didn't help, you did so consciously, knowing I'd be better if I did it on my own. And I am. I don't know what willpower it took to stop yourself from scooping us into your arms, from not quitting work to be with us, from not defending us when we whined. You were one tough mama! 

At your wake, there were so many people, it was crazy. I met so many people whose lives you changed. I even remember feeling jealous because I had to share you with soooo many people! I remember calling home one day and saying, "Mama, let's go shopping!" And you said, "I have to do counseling and discipleship today. Maybe another time." There was never another time, Mama, because you always chose the less fortunate. I always got angry over that but when you died and I saw how many people mourned you--some of them were crying more than I or Papa or my siblings did--I realized you chose the right thing.

You always did actually. And that entire time we were at the wake, a strange thing happened: We found ourselves comforting others, instead of the other way around. We had taken over your role of comforter and guidance counselor--you kinda didn't give us a choice!--even though we were the ones who lost a mother and a wife. But by stepping into your shoes, we became better human beings.

This reminds me of that story you told us of two sisters, Mary and Martha. Jesus had visited their home and Martha was super busy cleaning and cooking so that Jesus will feel important. Mary sat by His feet and listened to Him speak. Martha got angry and said, "Lord, don't you care that my sister has left me to do all the work by myself? Tell her to help me!" And Jesus said, "Martha, Martha! You are worried and upset about so many things, but only one thing is needed. Mary has chosen what is better, and it will not be taken away from her." (Luke 10:38-42). Now, I always thought this story was stupid and an excuse to be lazy. But when you died, Mama, I got it. It took me 32 years but I finally got it. You always did choose the right thing and now you have been rewarded.

Oh, I'm going to be a great mom! I just know it. Because I had you, and though everyone tells me that there are new ways to raise kids these days, I think I'm going to be just like you--tough, strict, totally no-nonsense and firmly rooted on God's Word. And if I turn out half as good a person as you were, Mama, then my little Jelly Bean is in very good hands.

I miss you,
F.

I guess you all probably all know that Apple launched the funnily named iPad last week.

Well, I want one. It's the future, my friends. I won't really go into all the specifics and what it can and can't do (this isn't a tech site and my husband can explain it better!) but from what I've seen, it's magic!

This week, Sony also launched their adorable new VAIOs, the super colorful VAIO E. Vince and I were invited to a lovely dinner for the launch but I wasn't feeling well and Vince had to stay at work so we didn't show up. Therese and Avvy of Virtusio, if you're reading this, I'm sorry! Was this the series you were launching? Just wondering...
I think these babies are beyond cute but Sony really has to offer better laptop deals--their laptops are insanely overpriced so, much as I want a VAIO, I bought my HP Mini instead (which I love!) and if I ever get oodles of money, I'd buy a MAC!

Or an iPad. I read that Sony plans to copy the iPad. Sony's CFO Nobuyuki Oneda said, "We are confident we have the skills to create a [similar] product." I'm sure, but again, Sony, you have to make your prices competitive. Since the iPad is only around $500 (P23,000), that's an unbeatable price for such an amazing gadget!

We're definitely getting the iPad come March. But we have to buy that Olympus EP1 first! How about you? Any gadget lusts?

I haven't been to Boracay since 2004. Don't feel bad for me, folks, I'm not a beach person. But 6 years away from the most famous beach in the Philippines is starting to feel wrong. My days these days have been filled with work, clinic appointments, inquiring after medical and life insurance quotes, reading pregnancy books, hugging the toilet as I vomit my meal yet again... So, before Jelly Bean takes over our lives, I think it's time for more getaways (yes, more trips aside from Tagaytay and Cebu!). And if I'm lucky, I can go have an all-expense-paid trip to the island!

Boracay Packages is having a fabulous contest open to everyone in the entire world! In celebration of its 5th anniversary (hey, it's the 5th anniversary of OK! Philippines, too!), the site is treating 2 people to a 5-day stay at the lovely Le Soleil de Boracay! Here are the details:


WOW Philippines Travel Agency, Inc. is celebrating its 5th year in business on July of 2010, and we would like you to have a chance to celebrate with us. We decided to give away a FREE Boracay Package complete with 5-Star accommodations at the luxurious Le Soleil de Boracay Hotel on Boracay Island. The lucky winner will win the following Boracay vacation package:

Vacation Package Inclusions:
- 5 Days / 4 Nights Luxury 5-Star Accommodations at the Le Soleil de Boracay Hotel
- Flights to Boracay from Manila to Caticlan Airport on Philippine Airlines
- Island Transfers - Door-to-Door from Manila to the resort and back to Manila
- Three (3) Meals each day, Breakfast, Lunch & Dinner
- Boracay Activities - Horseback Riding, Island Hopping, Glass Bottom Boat
- PLUS - 5,000 peso Spending Cash


Oh, I want to win this! To be honest, it was the Philippine Airlines aspect that won me over. Really don't want to fly on Cebu Pacific anymore. But that's another story for another day! Let me just look for my ancient Boracay photos so you can see how much I enjoyed Boracay. And that's coming from a girl who hates sun and sand!

If you want to join the contest yourself, click here!

Mariel and I were at Kate's atelier and we had such a fun time just choosing cloth swatches, designs, accessories. Well, the truth is Kate drew and drew and Mariel and I just oohed and clapped in delight. Why were we there? Mariel's wedding is coming up! So excited for my dear friend.

So I had my measurements taken for my gown and, let me tell ya, I'm a little alarmed at my size. Everything's about 3-5 inches bigger. Good for the boobies but the waist and hips? Yikes! It's not that I'm being vain. It's more like I feel this is a stranger's body. Last time I checked, my waist was 26; now it's 31! I guess if it was a gradual gain, I'd think nothing of it but, my goodness, every time I look in the mirror, I do a double take, "Who's that?!"

For the first time in my life, I've started thinking seriously about exercise and diets. I look at the Kardashian sisters' bodies for example (here's their pic when they did a Quick Trim review) and I find myself wondering if I'm ever going to need to work hard to get thin again.All my mommy friends tell me--almost gleefully--that, "No, you'll never get your body back!" and I feel a little sad. Not because I'm vain but because I like my body--the skinny, flat-chested, bony-kneed me. It's who I am and, despite being taunted for being a skeleton all my life, I really like my eat-all-I-can-yet-remain-skinny self.

I've always been super thin. I can spend the entire day at the buffet and not gain an ounce. I've never owned a weighing scale but, now that I'm pregnant, I got a nice bathroom scale that I step onto every morning and evening. That needle has climbed to 112 lbs. That's way beyond my average weight of 100 lbs--which is my 30's weight. In my 20's, I was an average of 95 lbs. In my late teens, I tipped it at 90 lbs. Nope, no eating disorder. My family and I are just naturally skinny. My husband is slim, too.

At the OB's office last week, my OBG told me I'm gaining too much weight and put me on a diet--more leaves and salads and grains, no more sweets and fatty stuff. I'm not even a fan of sweets and fatty stuff! I'm already eating less than I used to (blame the nausea)! Where on earth are the pounds coming from?

Curiouser and curiouser indeed. In other news, we're very excited about the baby. Vince says he can't wait to see me get big. I also want to see myself get big, but in the boob and tummy areas only. I'd like to look like Nicole Richie when she was pregnant. This is what I expect actually since my mother, when she was pregnant, always looked like she just swallowed a basketball. But with my fast weight gain and my OBG's confirmation that I am indeed piling it on, I don't think I'll be anything like Mama!