I wanted to stay in bed longer but I needed to wake up early today to attend to my plants (it was really, really hooooootttttt) and cook brunch for the girls. Boiled quail eggs, onigiri, a bit of bacon and more broccoli.
After my Zoom meeting with the girls’ homeroom teacher who reported on the the quarter-on-quarter progress of my kids, we drove south to Makati to meet my sister-in-law, nephew, and my brother in Glorietta.
That head is Twin A’s; she wanted to hide herself from me by trying to sink under the table. That’s her French toast that she couldn’t finish so it was her twin who finished it for her.
My brother hied to Starbucks to watch movies on his iPad in peace while we went to the National Bookstore sale. Kuya P didn’t find anything interesting to buy while I have yet to finish the books lined up on my shelf in my room. I don’t have any business buying books these days. Plus the selections weren’t good since most were for young adults and children.
Of course boys will be boys. Kuya P went straight to ToyTown because some action figures were on sale. Yep, Gundam. My sis-in-law said her boys keep on building these just to gather dust at home. In a couple of months they will be moving into their new townhouse that they just bought in our hometown. The boys will have more space to display their toys. I told her that they can buy acrylic case for these figures online.
And they spent the remainder of the afternoon playing at Timzone with Kuya P while sis-in-law and I had coffee at another Starbucks near the movie theaters (yes, first time that they opened up the theaters).
Cousins playing against each other. Photo by CallMeCreation.comThe twins playing arcade games after two years. Photo by CallMeCreation.com
The cousins had a great time with each other and Kuya P is asking when can they hang out again. I’m still figuring out when is the best time I could drive back home with the girls so I can meet with another contractor (just for another quote). An alternative is I told them they can stay with us in QC for a night or two one weekend so we can all try the restaurants in Maginhawa.
We all parted at 9 pm tonight.
Because it was so late, we weren’t able to buy cat supplies at Tiendesitas!
Well, that’s the agenda for tomorrow. Probably drop by Greenhills, too, to buy a USB Bluetooth dongle because the internal Bluetooth of this old gaming laptop finally gave up its ghost. Either the latest Windows 10 update killed it or it was really its time to go.
I’m going to have to have another quotation for a build-to-suit desktop computer for me (if I could get a mini-ITX case???) or I’ll see if it’s better to get a gaming laptop with Core i5 or Ryzen 5. But I want to suck the life out of this old gaming laptop so…Maybe I’ll hold off for a bit?
Let’s see what my gut feel says tomorrow.
I couldn’t sleep. So I put my only self-portrait in one of my extra Ikea frames. Et voila! It looks decent even without the lips and nose. I feel like I looked like Voldemort here.
Art and photo by CallMeCreation.com
Meanwhile, I fixed the vanishing point problem in this sketch after determining what I can adjust. I thought this was a disaster but my sis in law liked it so it motivated me to find a solution.
This short animation is simple to the point that it’s already cliche but it strikes the heart. It reminds me of why I keep cooking for my loved ones even though somebody else could do that for us. Because you know, home-cooked meals remind you of your mom, of home, of comfort, of love…My mom was a terrible cook (she’s really more of a scientist) but she tried her best. It’s the meal shared with her that counts. I want my girls to remember me by the food that I cook for them—the taste of home. My food will always draw them back home wherever they will end up when they fly the coop. I cooked for J, to remind him that he had a home with me…but he threw that away. Oh well. *shrug* I sent home cooked meals to K’s condo because his family is in the US. He posted on FB one time that he loved my food and it reminded him of his mother. I cooked for my friends and cousin here at home or I send them my food when they’re sick.
Food cooked at home is not just food. It’s love in a pot. Mothers, especially single mothers, do their very best despite the tiredness of raising children alone. I hope it’s not too late for children to say their appreciation to their moms before they’re gone.
I couldn’t contain myself so I drove to Katipunan, went to Fullybooked and bought the other Tokyo Finds artist-grade watercolor palette.
The Artisan set. Photo by CallMeCreation.com
Then I tried to squeeze each pan in one tin tray so I would only be carrying one when I do my urban sketching.
Tadaah! Photo by CallMeCreation.comAnd I’ve made color swatches because the original color chart that came with the palette was not accurate.
I can buy empty half-pans from Lazada and put them all in the second almost empty palette tray and I will be buying—sloooowly buying—more expensive half-pans or tubes that I could squeeze the contents of in the empty pans for more saturated colors. The difference of the artist grade pans from the student grade paint box that I first bought is that the former has more saturated colors and is “cakey” compared to the latter. I’ll save money for the artist grade Winsor and Newton. Its field box version is already almost PhP 5,000
Same with Daniel Smith.
In the meantime, I’ll practice some more using this Tokyo Finds Bento Picasso artist grade until I get better. Well, my earlier watercolor drawings were just created using Pentel watercolor tubes and they haven’t faded yet. I think I can live with with Tokyo Finds and Sakura Koi.
I finally adjusted the colors on this watercolor drawing. I think I’m already satisfied with this one.
Updated.Photo by CallMeCreation.com
Then I decided to play truant today instead of finishing my articles so I made another one.
Art and Photo by CallMeCreation.comStill very wet. Art and photo by CallMeCreation.comTakipsilim sa UP Diliman. Art and photo by CallMeCreation.com
Broadcast City tower here looks odd. Hahaha! I’m still debating whether I should add tiny humans but I may just destroy it. Maybe tomorrow I’ll layer this.
I need to practice everyday. On Thursday I’ll be sitting in UCC almost all day so I can do this while I write and edit in between.
I’ve spent this month’s budget for plants…they became watercolors. Oh well. All for my mental health/self-love.
One of my favorite songs to sing in the past 14 months has been “Burnout” by Ebe Dancel but the version I’ve been singing is the one by Ben&Ben and Clara Benin. In appreciation of the artist/songwriter, I sent him a message, just to let him know that his work is important. I also happened to be the sister of one of his high school friends and we went to the same high school. He also struggled with depression after the breakdown of his marriage…so sometimes it helps if we send some kind of appreciation to the artists that we like since it gives them affirmation that what they’re doing makes sense even if the world doesn’t. It’s like when I receive Twitter direct messages from my readers, saying I was spot on with my last story or the stories coming from Southeast Asia are good, while I personally struggle keeping it together. Kind words are salve to a wounded soul.
Today I was in the mood to be a little extra so I made bacon-wrapped enoki mushrooms with the leftover homemade “Swedish” meatballs (the Ikea version recipe I found online) for brunch. The girls were happy.
Brunch for today. Photo by CallMeCreation.com
We didn’t go out today so we can rest and I can attend to my container garden that has been partly destroyed by the torrential rain earlier this week. I replaced the ones that drowned and trimmed the damaged foliage. Despite the damage, some blooms made me smile. For several months I struggled to make the mini roses bloom again. Which they did today.
Photo by CallMeCreation.com
And against all odds, some flowers survived the rain. Gives me some kind of assurance that I will somehow bloom again, too.
Blooming in the dark. Photo by CallMeCreation.com
Just more tender loving care (constant watering, trimming, and fertilizing and re-potting) is needed and they will bloom again. Like I needed to attend to my needs and paid attention to myself (self-care), I will bloom again. It may take a long time but I just need to be patient. Once established, a torrential rain will not wash me out that easily.
This is Mochi (whom our neighbors call Whitey). He has healed really well after his neutering and he will soon receive his rabies and 4-in-1 vaccines c/o my neighbor. He loves the bed that we made for him just outside our door. He no longer bothers our cats by the window.
Mochi. Photo by CallMeCreation.com
Once he has been vaccinated, the girls and I will attempt to give him a bath. Our cats hate baths.
Stories of two women scorned
I was chatting with the mother of the epileptic child who just died last month (my colleague’s ex-wife/scorned wife) and she was asking me about the annulment procedures and how much it costs. I told her better prepare half a million pesos because it’s that costly. I told her I am writing the check for the acceptance fee of my lawyer and I need to raise the other funds for the billable hours of my lawyer when hearings start. She got discouraged but then she said she will not file now since the father of her child is still grieving…too torn because he is being eaten up guilt and regret. I said she still has time to save up for the annulment.
Let’s call her N. She said her scoundrel of a husband (my colleague) had been having sex with this young journo in Sogo motels while she is in the hospital taking care of their child after every epilepsy episode. Just thinking about it makes her blood boil, she said. She said this husband was always absent and didn’t give time to their daughter when she was still alive and now he’s paying the price. He lost so many moments he could have been with their daughter but now she’s gone, he can’t bring back the lost time. It was her brother who assisted her every hospitalization of her daughter. She said she wants to be happy and find someone who will respect her and love her that’s why she’s making the separation legal.
I told her that’s the best move than we can make for ourselves. We shouldn’t just be accepting loose change for affection. That’s the problem with me (and her); we just accepted the bare minimum, thinking it was normal that it should be us who should be giving more into the relationship. “The next time,” I told N, “if I should choose to have a next time, the next person should treat me as if I was the best thing that happened to him. That I am precious to him. That he will appreciate me and love me and not treat me like a human appliance, as you termed it.”
J’s thank you doesn’t mean anything—it’s more of a move to soothe his conscience than pure gratitude—considering how he treated me like a rag and how he cheated on me while I supported him in all aspects. As N termed it, I was a human appliance and an ATM. Imagine, the slut moved into his condo unit a few days after he broke up with me. I could have learned about it a year ago given that I am well connected with real estate companies, especially this particular developer. Plus Jo worked at this company. But I chose not to because I wanted a clean cut. It is only now I learned all about this shit. Now everything fell into place for me—everything was premeditated. What he said about he wasn’t even thinking of breaking up with me that night of Dec 17, 2020–it was a lie. He was just waiting for the right time that I give up so that the break up will not be on his conscience. The reason why he was so angry at me for possibly dropping by unannounced was because he may be found out. If he really was thankful for everything I did for him, he should have treated me more kindly when we were together. I wonder if that’s the kind of treatment of women he had seen growing up.
So I told N I’m so done with men, especially Asian men. There’s something in the way they were raised by their Asian moms that made them so self-centered. She agreed since her ex (my colleague) is such an asshole and he was raised by a supermom who catered to him head to foot. Even J himself told me that his mom (who eventually became a solo parent) had a hard time with him, with his expensive tastes (i.e. his demands for cheeses and exotic food).
My journey has been so exhausting. So I told N that it was good that she’s still open to having another relationship after her scumbag of a husband. While me, I think I’m so done with it.
This other story is about my childhood friend who is now a lawyer in Singapore (who talked to me on FB messenger while on a cruise yesterday). She is paddling in three rivers–three different men, including her soon-to-be ex-husband. Long story short, she is looking for affection and running after them/looking for affirmation because she is a co-dependent like me. She grew up in a co-dependent household with her mom being the rag (co-dependent) and her dad the abusive husband (dependent). Anyway, she is justifying her actions because of her co-dependency issues. I told her she is just making herself more miserable and making her co-dependency syndrome an excuse. And exacting revenge on the woman her other guy is seeing will only fire up her anger and not give her peace.
“You are more than this. You are above this. Please, stop digging yourself into deeper shit. Heal yourself first because this will be a never-ending cycle,” I told her. “You are so messed up!”
I told her that I am also aware of my co-dependency issues but instead of using this as an excuse to fuel my desperation, I used this as a weapon against myself.
“I had desperately wanted to talk to him (J), I desperately wanted to be with him. I was already dying inside, but no, I chose not to act on it. I did not chase. I stopped all communication because all I had was my dignity. Imagine if I acted on my desperation for love, I would have been more humiliated and crushed today learning that he had been cheating on me despite giving him the world,” I was shouting and crying at the same time when I told this to my childhood friend. “It was my self-respect that saved me. Give yourself some self-respect. You are more than this person who is desperate for affection and seeking it in the wrong places/persons. Please, lift yourself out of this mess,” I cried.
This need for love, trying to fill the void by chasing affection from other people, can be cured by giving yourself the love, respect, and appreciation you deserve. You need to fill up the void yourself before you can find real love because you will discover your true worth, I told her. And you will now have a gauge for the next person, to know if he is enough, if his love is worthy of you. It’s hard, I know. It was an uphill climb for me. It has been 14 months but now I am slowly realizing that self-love is the best treatment I can give myself. “Please love yourself first. Appreciate yourself first. You are not a rag,” I said.
It’s true. I had been healing myself by giving myself the love that I had given J. I’m not there yet (as the unconditional love I gave him is still beyond my comprehension), but getting there…
I told her: Go up the ship’s deck. Watch the sunset. Put on make-up and dress up. Have nice cocktail on your hand while you lounge on the deck. Treat yourself. Pamper yourself. Love yourself. Put all your energies on yourself instead of exacting revenge on some woman or on R. Or trying to bait H. Or letting M dangle. Believe me you’ll be happier in the end.”
I told her I could have exacted revenge on J, I could have messed him up and told the Bureau of Immigration stuff so he could be blocked from renewing his tourist visa. I could have messed his business/es. I could have destroyed him among the rest of Philippine media and corporations but I chose not to. I could have stalked and made a mess with all his women (I could have researched and do some sleuthing because I’m an investigative journo by training) but I chose peace. I took the high road. I chose to heal. I’ll just leave it to God. As my colleague-friend said, expend your energies on more productive pursuits instead of wasting it on a worthless person.
I thank all the women friends who have supported me and empowered me. I’m in a much better place right now. I’m still messed up, still going through therapy, still hurting but I am slowly healing.
That’s why I’m helping these two women in my stories above. I’m paying it forward.
I’m missing the sea. Now that it’s getting hotter, the call of the sea has been growing stronger than ever. K told me he’s going to be in Boracay next week for a week’s stay. I bet he would be having a sexy Valentine’s date/s on Monday. He should just spare me the details.
The pencil sketch looked promising…
Art and Photo by CallMeCreation.com
But I can’t translate it into watercolor. Even though this is a Moleskine drawing notebook, it is NOT a watercolor paper drawing notebook. The colors bleed and the paper keeps piling. My Sakura Pigma Micron drawing pens are missing. I could only use my Pilot Dr. Grip pen to make outlines.
I think I should stick to pencils and charcoal in the meantime until I get myself proper watercolor papers and more practice. It has been 25 years since I did my last watercolor.
I’ll try to salvage this one tomorrow. I’m just a bit tired. I spent 4 hours gardening today, re-potting plants and removing old soil that has been infected by nematodes and root rot.
Aside from that I cooked brunch and dinner.
Omelette rice for brunch. Photo by CallMeCreation.comBeforeprocessing the mushroomsAfter using the food processeorCream of mushroom for dinner.
I only got 1 hr of nap today. I again was woken up at 4 am and had a hard time falling back to sleep. However, I did get better quality sleep last night after taking melatonin. I should try to make it 6 mg tonight so I can have a bit of deep sleep.
It’s better to be tired at least there’s less time thinking about the things I shouldn’t be thinking about so I hurt less. I wish it’s that easy. Thinking about dating again makes my stomach churn. I don’t think I’m made for this. I think I’ll be better solo.
My friend from my old TV network asked me if I want to have a date on Monday, because he knows someone interested and he can play match-maker. I said NO. The thought made my skin crawl. After my vehement no, my friend said he was only joking.
The Marcoses are really out of touch. Imee Marcos mocks people who work 18 hrs a day.
Of course I’m exaggerating but this video gives me lots of ideas.
Americans keep on asking us Asians (especially Filipinos), what’s with Spam? They told me they really don’t eat it and it’s usually the lower income people who just buy these in the US. I told them that our penchant for eating Spam has something to do with history and sociology more than its culinary characteristics.
I was told by elders that during World War II, Filipinos had no source of meat for years. When liberation time came, the relief goods that were parachuted from the sky contained Spam and corned beef. For people who had barely enough to eat, Spam was like luxury. My ex-father-in-law said that he was 13 years old when the relief boxes were dropped in their province and it was his first time to eat corned beef out of a can. And the experience was glorious. Since then he only ate corned beef straight out of a can, just like when he first tasted it.
But I digress.
So in the years following the war, Spam was still inaccessible to Filipinos since it was only manufactured in the US and imports were rarely sold in local supermarkets. Only those who had relatives in the US get to have Spam or those who are rich enough to fly to the US for holidays can buy it. Another way of getting the stuff is if you can get to Olongapo and buy it from the PX goods shops there. American servicemen who wanted to earn extra cash sell their personal supplies like soaps, shampoos, and canned goods to entrepreneurs outside the US bases in Pampanga (Clark Airbase) and Zambales (Subic Naval base). So in a way, having Spam in your pantry is like a status symbol then. I was not enamored of Spam like my brother because I didn’t grow up eating that. I remember having the Filipino luncheon meat (Gusto/Philips brand) or the Chinese one (Ma Ling) for breakfast. I think my brother had access to Spam because he stayed with my maternal grandpa during school holidays growing up and they always get canned goods from the US because half of the family lived there. And only special grandchildren get to have access to that–my brother was a favorite. He had chinky eyes like my grandpa.
I think this is the same reason why Okinawans had access to Spam–they have the American bases there. The Spam rice rolls and other sub-Japanese cuisine with Spam originated from there.
Later Spam became a regular in Filipino pantries across all economic classes after Purefoods San Miguel had formed a joint venture with Hormel and started manufacturing Spam locally. I have Spam in my pantry for emergencies, like when I run out of things to cook. I dice it to combine with fried rice and eggs. And now various ways of making onigiri.
Speaking of gimbap/rice rolls, I discovered this yummy condiment:
Roasted ginger sauce. Photo by CallMeCreation.com
Roasted Ginger Sauce. I can’t remember how or where I got it from (SM Marikina? Or someone gave it to me?) but it doesn’t matter. I use this on gimbap, onigiri, or egg rolls. Heck, I can use it on everything. It’s lovely, I tell you.
Today was basura day again. I did nothing but sleep–I literally slept all day, hence, I was a useless journo/editor again. I freaking don’t know why I was so tired. I tried sleeping early last night but I woke up at 3 am for some unknown reason and only managed to sleep at 5 am. I have to tell my doctor tomorrow that my body clock is messed up for weeks now. I HAVE A WEBINAR TOMORROW and a press conference and three stories to write. Damn it.
Will my doctor take me off alprazolam immediately? I don’t know. I don’t think this is withdrawal symptoms because I was fine before this. I think she can take me off alprazolam now since I have less anxiety caused by J or anything to do with him nowadays. That’s why I keep on writing memories of him here so I can let it all out and I won’t get triggered as much. It’s like building my immunity; similar to injecting myself with dead coronavirus. The best description I have of me now, save for the sleeping issues, is I’m placid.
And as long as I don’t see that girl on social media as well, I think I’m fine. I don’t know why a girl almost half my age can get to me like this. She’s not even pretty but heck she caused me so much pain and insecurity.
I’m still fixing myself.
It’s funny. It’s almost 14 months and it feels like it just happened yesterday. This is the longest and most difficult heartbreak I’ve had and it’s not something to be proud of. It’s unfair to me, too. Here he was, gallivanting and chasing after very young girls four months after our breakup (or maybe earlier, I dunno), while I wilted and died. It’s not about him moving on quickly that hurts–I already expected that because it’s in his personality. It’s chasing people in my circle is the the hateful part. It’s like an affront to me. Like he’s deliberately letting me know that, “Hey, I have moved on, Bitch, and she’s just like you, a journo but almost half your age.” I don’t know if he’s that dense that he has forgotten that I have introduced the girl to him after my company’s event and our trade organization’s event was just in the next ballroom (where we crashed the dinner and we were pretty drunk then). And maybe he underestimated how wide my network is.
Anyway, that’s all in the past. I’m trying to heal. Getting bogged down and killed TWICE was something for the books. I have to admit he did break me. I have to stop pretending that I didn’t break because the truth is I succumbed to alcohol and I realized I needed professional help to get me out of that dark hole. I was already drinking myself into oblivion, for goodness’ sake! Imbibing alcohol every night to help me sleep was a perfect road to self-destruction. Because of my children I had to get help–I’m all they got. My family has no idea what I was going through. They thought I was being introverted again and I was being my usual self that I wanted to stay away from them. It’s equivalent to my teenage self locking herself up in her bedroom to be away from them. Being very near family is sometimes toxic, too. That’s why I’m still unsure if moving back into my hometown is a wise decision.
But this is for my kids. I’m doing this for my kids.
So as K asked me one time, are you ready to face him if by accident you bump into each other? I said I don’t know but I’m bracing myself. Eventually, that may happen, either here in Manila or Singapore. Our world is small. But hopefully I’m already well by that time. I don’t have a mean bone in my body so the desire to get even is not there. I don’t want to melt as well and have all my defenses pulled down. I hope I’m over him by that time so I won’t fall or get affected negatively. I hope I’m healthier physically and mentally, too, by that time.
The girls had been cooped up for so long that they pestered me about going out today. But first I needed to cook brunch because I was not really sure if the kids can eat at a restaurant even if it’s al fresco.
Lugaw is essential. Photo by CallMeCreation.com
I was supposed to make this into arroz caldo but I forgot to defrost the chicken so it’s just plain lugaw with boiled eggs. Still good though.
Then I tended to my garden. I had to relocate some plants because the heat at noon is too intense for them.
The wilted hanging plants under the shade of the mango tree. Photo by CallMeCreation.comHappy mums. Photo by CallMeCreation.comMy roses in thatbig planter are almost dying . Photo by CallMeCreation.com
So some of my roses are again victims of the neighborhood feral cats because they kept digging the soil to poop. I have sprayed the area with perfumed disinfectant so drive them away but it wasn’t enough. I need lemon and orange peels to assault their strong sense of smell. Then I placed the marigolds beside the dying roses to provide protection and shade. I’m still trying to revive them. My humic fertilizers I ordered online will soon be arriving. Roses, please hang on! Meanwhile, my wire mesh from Shopee arrived and attached them to the wall. I’m waiting for my hanging planters to arrive, also from Shopee, that I will hang on the grid and so the feral cats won’t be able to reach the plants that I will be putting there.
I was multitasking today. While doing my hobby, I was doing chores like washing stuffed toys using the mini washing machine because we would be giving those to the orphanage in Manila. I would be sending several kilos of powdered milk and the stuffed toys via Grab tomorrow. The toys now are almost as good as new.
As I thought, the girls were not allowed to enter Bonifacio High Street (they required vaccination cards before entering; of course the girls still don’t have it) so I just ordered Starbucks donuts and a giant cookie with frappucinos to go.
Sinful. Photo by CallMeCreation.com
Then we plopped on the grass at Track 30th because that’s the only place where kids are allowed. Twin I was put out that she couldn’t ride a bike around BGC because we didn’t bring any bike. Besides, I couldn’t bike with her because of abdominal cramps (red days). I told her we’ll bring our bikes next week. You see, the only safe places now for them are UP Diliman and BGC and they’re getting tired of UP campus so that leaves BGC as the only option. On top of that, you can’t really stay inside UP campus if you’re not exercising; they’re discouraging people to linger as part of their anti-covid protocols.
Sunset on the grass. Photo by CallMeCreation.comWatching kids riding their scooters. Photo by CallMeCreation.com
We walked around some more for a bit of exercise because we had been sedentary for a loooooooooooong time.
Families with kids enjoying the afternoon in a grassy vacant lot near Dean and Deluca. Photo by CallMeCreation.comAnother day is dying in the city. I don’t know how long we will still be trapped in this concrete jungle. Photo by CallMeCreation.com
Perhaps when I’m fed up working at home, I’ll just go to BGC and station myself in one coffee shop around the area to work. I have three stories to write and I need to get out of my box to be motivated to write those. I remember that I used to work a lot in BGC–at Starbucks inside Fullybooked in Bonifacio High Street, Starbucks beside Pancake House and at Bo’s Coffee, also at Bonifacio High Street–when I felt a little bit claustrophobic in Ayala in Makati. That was before the pandemic. Since I’ve been stuck here in this room for two years, I think it’s about time I change my venue.
On the way back home, we stopped by Jjangkke to buy the spicy chicken that I’ve been hankering after since last night. Finally, one parking slot was open and I was able to get my chicken!