TOPAZ HORIZON

Today, I received an email from a very concerned reader, Amina, who told me that someone named Jamie Palanca is using my photos on her Facebook account and passing them off as her own.

Since I wasn't friends with this woman, I couldn't see her other photos but Amina told me that in the other photos, Ms. Palanca claimed Vito as her own, except that she named him Savannah Lauren. And as you can also see from her comment below, she also claimed Vince as her husband.

Talagang angkinin ang asawa't anak ko, ha!

I am not very upset. This is something unexpected, after all. That's one of the consequences of putting your life all over the Internet. I was telling my friend Jill that it's kinda funny, kinda creepy, kinda flattering (although why did she use that unflattering photo?!) but mostly very sad and pathetic. So, guys, don't worry. I'm cool!

My cousin Diana pointed out, however, that while it's great I'm not blowing my top over this, she said that Ms. Palanca is an online seller. If she happens to be an unscrupulous person (and she very well may be because if she can lie about this then she can lie about anything), then she might be running off with people's money. And then what if a swindled customer saw me or my family somewhere and gets angry and attacks us? Put that way, that is a very scary scenario.

Well, folks, please do me a HUGE favor and report this person. Kindly go to her Facebook page (click here) and, on the left side of the profile, somewhere under the profile pic, click on "Report/Block" and say this person is pretending to be me. Thank you!

P.S. Please don't post harsh words on her wall. I know some of you are very protective of me (thanks!). I think it's a very sad thing she had to do this so let's just wish she finds a great husband and make gorgeous babies and have a fabulous life so that she wouldn't need to pretend to be me!

P.P.S. I wouldn't have known about this if it weren't for Amina. Thank you! You know, despite this, I'm still very glad I blog because I have people all over the world who truly care for me and my family. I am very blessed!

If you've been following me on Twitter, you'd have known that I've been ordered to rest by my doctor. As I have never been one to do as she's told, I've still been going to work, playing rough with my toddler, and attending events here and there.

Last Monday, I came home from work at 9pm. The next day, I went to the office early to check on the bible (that's the mock issue) of the November ish before we sent it to the printers then Vince and I drove to Sofitel for Sony's event.

When I got home at around 4pm, I wasn't feeling well. So I decided to skip Jimmy Choo and Bvlgari. But confronted with a super playful Vito, I took him to the playground. After a few rounds, I started feeling dizzy and  very unwell so off we trooped for home.

At 6ish, Vince and I had dinner, but mid-way through, I got up from the table and ran to the bathroom. I had a terribly upset stomach. That was also when I saw there was quite a bit of blood down there. Not in the back but at the front of down there. I was alarmed. I literally felt like fainting. I wiped and wiped and there was still blood. There wasn't supposed to be blood. You see, I'm pregnant.

Vince and I rushed to St. Luke's Global. I called my OB and I was instructed to go directly to the labor room. Vince deposited me at the ER then he drove off to park. "I'll meet you at the labor room," he said.

I walked into the ER and said, "Hello, how do I get to the labor room?"

A cute young man said, "I'll bring you there myself, ma'am. Do you have a relative giving birth?"

"No. I'm the patient."

He glanced at my stomach very quickly and seeing that I had no belly worthy of labor, he very politely said, "Oh! Would you like a wheelchair?"

"No. I need to walk off my nervousness. I'm pregnant, you see, and I started bleeding."

He looked alarmed. "Ma'am, you need a wheelchair!"

"Nah. Just walk with me. Labor room. Now."

Elevator doors opened and we stepped in. Silence. Then he said, "You're very... calm."

And I said, "No use worrying." And I smiled at this young boy who looked like he needed more assurance than I did.

At the Maternity Floor, he very quickly looked for a nurse to assist me. I was taken to the labor room. Vince arrived, looking worried. An OBG did an internal exam and said--to everyone's relief--"Your cervix is still very hard." That means my cervix is still closed, which means a miscarriage is not in progress.

We had to wait a good long while for the sonologist, who was called away from dinner at home. While waiting, Vince wondered aloud, "What does a very hard cervix feel like? I don't feel anything hard in there." And I said, "Well, you're not going anywhere near my cervix!" We laugh, haha, nervous laughter. But it's good to laugh when you're scared. That's why, girls, you marry a man who has a sense of humor!

Finally, the sonologist came and checked on the baby. Baby was alive. Baby had a strong heartbeat. Baby wiggled. It wiggled its little butt! We laughed. We're fine. We're fine!

And this is me at the lobby of St. Luke's. We had just finished paying for our bill. I'm having a cup of milk tea (free at the admissions section), which I had to get to soothe my frazzled nerves. I'm very happy now. Vince, too. He was completely stressed out, poor daddy. So now I'm on complete bed rest. Please please keep me and the little new one in your prayers.

Oh, and we've finally come up with a name for the baby: Wiggle!

This week, I got an email from a reader who demanded I stop writing about my satchels (buy one now!) and go back to writing about my glamorous life. Sweetheart, my satchels are part of my glamorous life! Because of my satchels, I can now call myself designer and entrepreneur! That's a lot cooler than the nerdy writer, right?

Sigh. The problem with blogging only about the nice parts of my life is people only see a tiny aspect of me. The so-called glamorous part and then everyone thinks I spend my days drinking champagne, marinating in the salon or the spa, shopping away, attending parties every night, la di da. Ugh, how boring. I honestly don't know why any woman would want to spend her life like that!

Most days, I don't brush my hair or put on makeup.

You know what my life is like? It starts at 5 in the morning, washing the poop off my son's butt. Then I spend the day chained to my desk, writing and editing and approving photos. I'm in meetings talking about circulation figures and ad revenues and how to meet financial targets. I'm hunched over my computer, answering inquiries about my bags, sending invoices, checking balances. At the end of the day, I blog or work on my other writing projects. And most of the time, I haven't brushed my hair at all!

Of course, every once in a while, I'll have to attend meetings with brand managers and advertising clients. I'll have to attend events and product launches. Then I'll have to blow dry my hair, slap on the makeup and put on a nice dress. But while you may think that this is fun, events aren't parties--they're business. So I don't get drunk, I don't throw my hands in the air and dance with abandon, I don't flirt. I just meet the people who can help my magazine, ask what they want from me and my magazine, then go home.

Even when I go out, I choose comfort first.

But I know, I know. That sounds so boring and familiar. You wouldn't want to read about that because it sounds a lot like your day. I guess I just find it strange that people will take my blog at face value. That what you see here is what you think my entire life is all about. There are no books here but that doesn't mean I don't read. I hardly talk about my son here (read about him on my mommy blog!) but that doesn't mean I don't think about him every minute. There's nothing here about our government, divorce, the RH Bill and gay marriage but that doesn't mean I don't have very strong opinions on those issues.

I don't talk about those things because I  confess that I am not a very agreeable person. I am highly opinionated, terribly articulate and have a bad temper. I'm confrontational. I'm reactionary. If I wrote about controversial things, then I'll get into trouble. I've already gotten into trouble actually (mostly over stuff I've said over Twitter and Facebook). So to be safe, I just keep things light and happy here.

But please don't ever think I'm all sunshine. I will continue to talk about the lovely parts of my life because I enjoy doing that but please don't demand things from me. I'm aware that I might've created some sort of illusion but I'm afraid I'm not an escape, a role model, a style icon, a success story or whatever you project on me. I'm just me, and believe it or not, I'm very much like you.