My first love

And so it was that the article was published in PDI on January 21. It unleashed a flurry of positive comments and rave reviews even from those unexpected like a work frenemy or a scientist from the UK. My true friends knew my capacity. The rest of the world was suprised that I loved writing and I was good at it. Funny thing. Even my father was astonished. The embassy also confirmed that they loved my piece. 

Now for the hard part. How to sustain it. And that is what they call practice makes perfect.

  

Adobo and me

We take for granted what food can actually contribute in our lives aside from nourishment. I just realized this recently, what you call the merits of making your own comfort food. Aside from gaining a sense of accomplishment, one is whisked to a different era, usually one's youth, when such dish was a centerpiece. 

Adobo had always been a family staple. My mom often cooked it as ingredients were cheap and it lasted long. It was the frequent baon for traveling (aside from that scrambled egg sandwich) from Baguio to Manila. But it has only been in the last decade that I fully appreciated it. From 2001 to 2005, it was our go to frozen meal in Cubao. Contained in a big plastic tub, my brother and I scooped chunks of frozen pieces and then reheated them in pans. Fast forward to 2007. I transferred to Singapore and it's the only Filipino dish that I attempt to make using Nora Daza's famous cookbook. I ended up eating an entire lot of bland adobo. When I returned to Manila in 2010, adobo was stilll being brought down from Baguio in small plastic containers. These I shared with my UBS officemates for lunch. Most often, it ended up being one full meal only, a very appetizing one at that given the amount of rice that we ate with it.

So now here in London I have mustered enough courage to roadtest my mother's recipe. It took 3 hours from midnight to finish. The finished product looks good though. The verdict's still out there.

With this new found obsession for anything culinary, slowly I find myself being okay. Whatever hope I had left was simmering underneath. Twas' a slow fire but it was cooking nonetheless. Indeed, in God's own time. 

Each day a new page

If you want your life to be a magnificent story, then begin by realizing that you are the author and everyday you have the opportunity to write a new and interesting page.

Mark Houlahan

Beat

I am beat. Tired of thinking what the future will hold. Tired of fighting this nasty  flu/dry cough. Tired of saying I will do it tomorrow. 

I had no one to tell my story. 

I just hope the cockroach returns soon.

Midnight

It broke my heart to find out my mother's unhappiness this way - through a letter to my cousin reminiscing about how she reminded her of the good old days of her youth and the plans she had. I wonder what plans were those. I can only surmise that there must have been great promise of a future rosy and bright. But alas as my cousin said, at least my mother had a more stable life with some money and good health. 

I cry because now I know what my mother meant when she said that everything will just be a memory. My mother is more of a realist. But she is entitled to her regrets. 

And I vow to keep her happy until the end. 

Cycle of relapse

I have never been afraid of snakes. But it appears that in the dream world, I am. Such was the case where I was being chased by three snakes and I was trying my best to fit in a manhole with a ladder going somewhere. Cut to the chase. I wake up and my mouth sore is larger. A relapse is in the offing. I doze off most of the day. And suddenly, in the midst of this health crisis, I can now read and study. Eureka. There goes my fresh start. Aspirational behavior motivates me to a certain extent. Oh to have a proper home. In due time G, in due time. 

Slaying my demons

Your journey has molded you for your greater good, and it was exactly what it needed to be. Don't think that you've lost time. There is no short-cutting to life. It took each and every situation you have encountered to bring you to the now. And now is right on time.

Asha Tyson

Keep Going

My mind still lies elsewhere. And my body now refuses to cooperate. An itchy throat makes me feel ill at ease. The spirit is willing but the flesh is really weak. I need a thunderbolt to electrocute and wake me up. I need it now.