NOW LOADING: Version 2.0

I haven’t written in a long while so this might be a bit rusty. Tsk, tsk… trust me to start with a disclaimer. Some things you can’t get out of your system easily.

Speaking of disclaimers, well I have to say this: IT AIN’T LOVE. It’s not that giddy feeling of suddenly finding reciprocity and all that jazz. It’s not waking up one day to see Pleasantville colour everywhere.

It’s realizing IT’S NOT WORTH IT. Not worth the pain, the agony, the waiting, the sulking, the dragging of the hours. The vicious cycle and the downward spiral.

Maybe it’s maturity. Maybe it’s mortality. Since I’ve always been morbid, I guess it’s more of the later. You realize you only have one life to live. That time is like sand you can’t hold in the palm of your hands. You realize you don’t want to be remembered as the mysterious, sulky guy who never lived. YOU DON’T WANT TO WASTE YOUR LIFE ON THINGS THAT ARE NOT WORTH IT.

It’s like having an epiphany. You pause, take stock of things and change course. You adapt a new perspective, a new life lens.

You wake up one day and realize you don’t want your old life anymore. A life ruled by expectations and disappointments. A life defined by other people. A life anchored on a past that you can’t leave behind. A life that’s grey and bleak because you are could not deal with the black and the white.

You wake up and realize you were lying in a bed of thorns you made yourself. Emphasis on “you made yourself.” Meaning it’s something you can undo, you can change, you can control.

I started young as a writer and my ink of choice was pain and angst. My best pieces were outbursts from the most difficult parts of my life. Because pain is familiar and it convinces me I’m still human. To borrow from TFIOS, “pain demands to be felt.” I believed I can only write in pain; it was therapy for me. It’s one of the truths I used to hold that now has changed. And these words are proof enough that I can write without that tortured sadness overwhelming me.

So I let go of the pain and angst and moved on. I start to chill, to be a little more passive, a little more enduring. Maybe a lot less caring. Because my excess baggage came from caring too much and not doing anything about it.

I STOPPED PLEASING MOST PEOPLE. Because cliché as it may sound, you need not please those who like you and you won’t be good enough for those who don’t like you. So why bother? This is me now. Deal with it. Love me or hate me, I’ll live. Feel free to judge, to say or think what you want. I have the real thing, the rhyme and the reason; you just have your imagination and opinion. Only a fool will believe another fool.

I STOPPED SWEATING THE SMALL STUFF. Rule of thumb is give everything your best shot. But you cannot do everything so just focus on the things that matter. That’s the concept of essentialism. Accept that not all things are perfect and ideal so you need to weigh and work the pros and cons in your favor.

I STOPPED LOOKING ON THE OTHER SIDE. It’s always greener there and that’s an optical illusion. The grass is greener where you water it. I just take care of the grass on my side and make it greener. I appreciate what I have instead of sulking about what I don’t have.  

I BECAME ANTI-DRAMA. Some see it as being anti-social but I just don’t want to be pulled into that dark circle anymore. I don’t waste my time on people who create their own problems and expect you to pull them out of it. Instead, I enjoy the company of people who share the same positive energy, the same wavelength, the same mindset. And then que sera sera. My eye-for-an-eye mentality is no longer about revenge. It’s about appreciating those who treat me right and ignoring those who don’t.

I CHOSE MY BATTLES. I don’t argue with close-minded people. I disengage myself from those who are all bark and no bite. If there is a problem, I attack it at the deep-seated root cause and stop the domino effect. I stare the hard truths in the eye and make the hard calls. I live and let live.

Bottomline, I no longer waste my energy on the negative. It doesn’t bring me anywhere but down.

Sorry if I’m not the same person to you. I no longer live for your opinion. I don’t breathe to get your attention. I don’t do things to earn your likes and double taps. I do them because I want to.

Hi, this is version 2.0. Nice to meet you. 

I'm Single And I Know It

Too many billion people in this planet and you can’t find one? That is the question. In this day and age, being single is tantamount to being a amputee, that you are walking around with a part of yourself missing.

Some people still shake their head at this destiny, or lack thereof. Some people see it as a crime; that somewhere out there a girl is having a miserable life because her “the one” chose to be alone.

For me, being single is a choice, a lifestyle even. I wake up, go to work, meet with friends occasionally and come back home to an empty house. And never did I feel the sense of being incomplete. I want it that way. In the same way you want to have a girlfriend or a family, I want to be single. Fact is, there is misery in being alone in as much as there is misery in being married. There is happiness in being married so there should be happiness is being single. All’s fair in love and life, right?

There was a time when I used to be defensive about this choice. It ticks me off how some people see it as a virus or a stigma. I remember a recent high school reunion where all the single guys and gals were told to go upfront, to be interrogated and heckled at by those lucky enough to find partners (rub it in, won’t you?); short of saying that being single is a fate worse than being broke. Yes, maybe it was all for fun and in the spirit of fun, I bit my tongue from saying things like “Yes I’m single but happy. You’re married and what again?”

For the record, I am not bitter about love. People think this situation is an aftermath of trauma or giving up on love. I recognize love, I wish it for friends and colleagues who wants it. I am happy when nice people find nice partners and live happily ever after. Heck, I am one of those guys who watch and read Nicholas Sparks and have a soft spot for Gus and Hazel in A Fault In Our Stars.

It’s just that I see love as some form of religion. I understand why people hold on to their hope in love, similar to the way sinners hold on to their faith. It becomes their reason for being. And like my view on religion, I respect that. I’ll leave them with their flowers and chocolate, white laces and promises. But it’s not for me.

Not that I have not tried it. I have, but my reaction to it reminds me of when I tried smoking. I didn’t like how it taste and feels. I don’t like pinning all my hopes and happiness on one person and making them the center of my universe. I don’t like synchronizing everything with that person. I don’t like the mush. I don’t being treated like a kid (kumain ka na ba?). I don’t like complications.

What I like is this freedom and being responsible only for myself. To be able to do whatever I want, whenever I want, wherever I want with whoever I want... without compromising someone. To be able to come home at any time and not having to apologize if my clothes smells like cigarette or another girl’s perfume. To be able to bond with a girl best friend without someone going jelly. To not pretend to like her friends or her family. Just to name a few.

They say Valentines Day becomes Singles Awareness Day for the unlucky ones. No need. Everyday, I’m aware that I’m single and for me, it’s a blessing. It’s the best way to exercise my right of free will and decision making.

I know people will see this as too juvenile, too cynical, too selfish or perhaps narcissistic. Again because they give “single” a bad name. Single is not a status. It is a feat which shows you are strong enough to live and enjoy life without depending on others.

There is dignity in being alone. Being accomplished and alone, being loved and alone, being un-lonely and alone.

Being single means more time to focus on myself. It’s like when I’m driving to an unfamiliar destination. For sure I’d still get there if I’m alone (give or take one or two wrong turns). If I have company, I tend to depend on them for instructions and lookouts. Being single means I’m in better position to achieve my goals in life. Somehow when you’re with someone, your goals take a back seat, or you have to make it around the other person. In being single I learn to appreciate myself more – know my capabilities, my strengths from my weakness, and strive to make myself a better person. Because I can only depend on me.

Husband or father might not be part of my curriculum vitae. Try good son and brother, loyal friend and great colleague. Maybe I’ll get chastised when I say I don’t need a partner to go through this life. I can travel alone, eat alone, shop alone or watch a movie alone. If there’s anything that scares me, it’s not growing old alone but being too independent. I see people as complications so sometimes I’d rather be detached. I even look forward to a “me time” despite being single and living alone.

There’s more to life than being in a relationship. You just have to enjoy the life that you have. Maybe someday I’ll find my match, maybe I won’t. And I’m OK with that. I won’t look back at my life with regret because I am able to do what I want.

I’m just saying that for what it’s worth, being single doesn’t make me any less happy or less grateful. And I know I am not alone in this sentiment.

Cheers to all the happy couples and the happy singles out there!

New North

Watches and compasses. Two things that have fascinated me as a kid. It amazes me how something I can place in the palm of my hand can measure a concept as intangible and infinite as time and direction. I feel conflicting emotions in watching the arrow or the dial move. Like watching the seconds of my life pass me by. In slow motion.

I’ve always had this morbid view of life. I never thought I’d grow up to be in my late twenties. Let alone early thirties. So early on, I developed this habit of making the most out of everything. Taking each moment like it’s the last. But soon real life got in the way and I got overruled by deadlines and schedules. It became most of me.

Until I found a renewed drive.

Drive. Passion. Motivation. The things that keep you going despite the odds that are stacked against you. Those memories or small voices that push you to go the extra mile even if your physical self has abandoned you some miles back.

Some would call it good vibes or positive energy. Well, they all result to one thing: the achievement of set goals.

Yesterday I met someone who is at the prime of his life. Fame, fortune, to-die-for girlfriend…you name it, he has it. But the thing that made my jaw drop is how he was able to do all of it: a Mon-Sat day job and being able to pursue his passions (food blogging and triathlon, to name a few). Plus a social life that is the toast of tinsel town. Part of me is convinced he is a vampire and I even dared ask if he sleeps. He claims to be an OC in anything he does and just balances and find time to do everything. That simple? There must be an algorithm to that which is only apparent to the chosen few. And he is the leader of the pack. He should place multimasker in his multi-hypenate curriculum vitae.

If he can do it, maybe I can too. Let me rephrase that. If he can do it, so can I. How’s that for starters.

No more excuses. No more downtime mulling over what could have been and what’s not there. It’s time to make it happen. It’s never too late to abandon the sick cycle carousel and be somewhere off the beaten track. The path where dreams come true. It may be more difficult but if I’m passing by greener pastures, no doubt it will be worth it.

I have found my new North and I am re-aligning my compass.

Question of Fate

Starry-eyed and nostalgic on a Saturday morning and I have Kate Beckinsale and John Cusack to blame. And some David Gray.

A few moments ago, I woke up with a slight headache; probably from staying up late and my stupid body clock waking me up and preventing me from sleeping in. While waiting for the caffeine to kick in, I opened the TV but nothing interesting to watch. Just one top model show after the other (seriously how many top models does the world need?). Then I chanced upon this Chinese channel showing English movies (with Chinese subtitles of course). At the risk of sounding cheesy and redundant, fate and destiny led me to one of my all-time favourite movies.



Ok, I never looked the part of a hopeless romantic. I'm more of the hapless romantic (cue in chuckles). Yes, I read Nicholas Sparks and Paulo Coehlo, but I approach their stories with my signature blend of sarcasm and disbelief; writing off their stories as modern day fairy tales where happy ever afters are so once upon a time.

But once in a long while, something permeates the thick wall of disinterest and indifference that I built. A resounding echo bouncing off the walls of my empty heart. And suddenly I get hit with a mind-blinding force straight out of Cupid’s bow.

It was love at first viewing. Kate Beckinsale is a jaw-dropping heartbreaker in this movie. I think the accent makes British girls seem smarter. Then, it happened during Christmas, where the blanket of good tidings makes everything and everyone seem a whole lot nicer. And the story...THE STORY!!! I know it's a bit Mills & Boon-y but for me, it was heart-breakingly simple but at the same time earnest and tender. In layman's term (haha), may kurot sa puso (tugs at the heart). Cue in the romantic sigh.

Maybe part of me is fascinated by how a smart beauty can fall for a sloppy wuss. Story of my life. Or should I say, FANTASY OF MY LIFE. Please don’t quote me on this.

I have the Serendipity DVD and I watch it ceremoniously every Christmas. I even have the OST and the opening notes alone of David Gray’s January Rain has the power to dissolve me in mush. By the time Evan and Jaron’s The Distance spins, I have morphed into a more mawkish version of Jonathan Trager.

I know my sister hates this movie because she thinks the plot is improbable (well with that kind of logic, she probably hates 9 out of 10 movies). But I beg to disagree.

I’ve had my Serendipity slash Bridges of Madison Country moment many years back. I don’t talk about it much because the magic of that day was simply beyond words. I bumped into her when I was babysitting my younger brother on his first educational trip. She was babysitting the brother of her husband (yes, you read it right...her husband). I don’t even remember her face now. All I remember is the pain in her eyes the one and only time I saw her after that. She was with her husband and when she saw me, her expression just fell. Her eyes were asking the question that I was afraid to answer: why only now?

Oh well. I am such a magnet for anything complicated.

So here I am on a muggy Saturday morning, wishing for a skating rink and snow. So I can just lay down and look at the stars and dream. Waiting for a mitten to come flying and for Fate/Destiny to hand me my own Sara Thomas.

But then again, Destiny cannot swoop down on me only because Reality is standing guard and slapping me in the face every so often.

So who am I kidding?



P.S. If by chance you see an old paperback copy of The Secret Garden with a number scrawled on the 13th page, call that number. Who knows...

P.S.2 Don't get me wrong. I'm happy with my self-imposed solitude. It's just that this movie puts me in an illogical trance. Emphasis on illogical.

***

I still believe my feelings
But sometimes I feel too much
I make believe you're close to me
But it ain't close enough

It's hard to remember
As long as you're away
When I find solace
There's only one way

- The Distance

Gunning Down Valentines

In a week’s time the world will be enveloped in a scarlet shroud, like ribbons of blood tangling with water. It’s the feast day for die-hard romantics and hard-core sappies.

Is it any coincidence that the color of love is also the color of blood and pain?



In writing this I know I will be accused of being a sourgrape or even bitter. Whatever. In my humble opinion, Valentines is a terrible marketing ploy, an occasion orchestrated by Hallmark, et al. It’s like Christmas but sprinkled with saccharine charm and cheese. Honestly, do you need a special day to confess the depths and potency of your love? With all due respect to “thoughtful” people, I never believed in grandiose displays of affection. Roses and chocolates are absurdly theatrical and there’s something phony, insincere and scheming about them. I’m an advocate of the little constant things. Let me put it this way. No Ferrero Rocher but I will always have a Choc Nut handy whenever she needs one.

But anyway, what do I know about that crazy thing called love? Love and religion are my two most favorite arguments. And so I remember the metaphor made famous by the pa-autograph moments of my grade school days: Love is like a rosary full of mysteries. Come to think of it, it makes sense. Joyful, sorrowful and devious. Amen.

Being single and alone is no longer a stigma. Still, I wish those who give single people a funny look will realize that relationships are acquired taste; they are not for everyone. For me, the feeling they call love is overrated. I’ve confessed that I am a love atheist. I like sarcastic FU songs (the likes of Trains's Drops Of Jupiter and Lifehouse's Sick Cycle Carousel) and I have a playlist on my iPod called P.S. I Hate Love for such songs. Like that 3HO!3 song, L...O...V...E is just another word I’ll never learn to pronounce. It’s a concept I cannot grasp, like the laws of physics. It’s a journey I just don’t have the map for.



Who can blame me for being cynical? Life did not show me enough reasons to believe that relationships are worth it. Fact: My parents did not exactly have a happy marriage. Fact: I spent half my college life playing counsellor to my squabbling mag-ON friends. Even now, I’ve been privy to the intrigues and scandals of my married friends and they run to me for advice and confessions (And not once have I asked: Why me? What do I know about this stuff?). Fact: One of my best friends is happily divorced with only her great kids as proud reminders of what used to be. True story: One Tita is currently in distress because her only son just fell in love with the neighbour’s help. See what I mean?

Fact: In the handful of times that I tried to take a plunge, something else in my life goes wrong or I am placed in a compromising and impossible situation. Like life telling me that I can’t have my cake and eat it too.

Oh and did I mention the pain? That if I want to relive it I will just watch One More Chance over and over again.

I rest my case. We live in a world where the Ted Mosbys play second fiddle and the Barney Stinsons get all the action. After all (as quoted from 500 Days of Summer), women prefer men with Brad Pitt’s face and Jesus’ abs. And we have Cosmo magazine to blame. I refuse to take part in that blah nonsense.



Sometimes it bothers me that I like doing things alone. I am happy with my status quo. I live alone and I love the peace and quiet of solitude. I can go on self-dates; walking around the mall by myself or jogging alone. I don’t like eating out so I’ll never be placed in the awkward situation where I am alone and a loser in a fancy restaurant. I don’t need to be with someone to enjoy coffee, a book or movie. And if I want to be around people, I have my family and very select circle of friends. I never felt the sense of needing someone in my life or having this void I need to fill. Yes, you can say I feel complete.

I am living my life and that’s all that matters. How can you measure the promise of love when it’s weighing against a chance that comes only once?

Friends have called me commitment phobic, like most guys. I’m not confirming nor denying. It’s just that I have too much on my plate right now and I see relationship as a dessert. Something for later. Or something I can skip altogether but I’ll still feel full and satisfied.

I know what people will say. That I have NOT met the right person. But maybe I’m too stubborn that even Destiny has given up on me. Then again, destiny and ever-after be damned. Say what you want. I’d rather be ALONE than UNHAPPY. If you know what I mean.

If it’s your thing, happy Valentines to you!



***

So tell me isn’t happiness
Worth more than a gold diamond ring?
I’m willing to do anything
To calm the storm in my heart
Not looking for a miracle
Just a reason to believe

My World Is A Flood

Today, a semblance of my old life returned. For the first time in two weeks, I was able to live again in my rented house in QC. Since The Great Flood of Manila (circa 2009) happened.

I checked my place a few days after Ondoy but refused to stay. It was no Provident Village, but the landscape of despondency and misery was just too much. The possessions of my neighbours (especially those from the first floor) are strewn all over the compound, mostly mud-covered or water-damaged. Along the way, I saw some houses that were partially dilapidated. Trash stretched as far as the eye can see, even lacing the barb wires atop the high perimeter fence, indicative that the waters reached those levels.



My room was a miniature disaster scene. The floor is covered with mud and everything on the floor was displaced. Shoes and mineral water bottles near the front door when it should be at the far end of the room. The books on my bedside table all warped by the water. The smell was terrible; the tang of seawater mixed with the sweet-sick smell of sewage. With a sigh of defeat, I just took my clothes that were in need of washing and left. I told my neighbour I’ll come back when things are more shipshape and bearable.



Sidebar: Apologies for the bad photos; they don't capture the distress well enough. I am no photograpger and when you are in the middle of this calamity, proper angle and focus is the last thing on your mind)

And so after two weeks, here I am. Last Tuesday, I spent the entire day tidying the place up and erasing all traces of Ondoy. I had to mop the floors thrice just to remove the muck. I got obsessed with disinfecting everything that was within reach of the knee deep flood. Well, a-whole-floor-and-a-knee-high flood to be exact since I live on the second floor (reminds me of the song Luka). I had to throw out my bed and pillows (I am thinking that if a dry bed is home to gazillions microscopic germs... how much more a flood-sodden bed). I had to remove three boxes full of magazine and books, plus another two boxes of miscellaneous files and papers (old notebooks from work, credit card statements, among others). I placed these in the back area (supposedly for hanging clothes) in the hopes that they will dry out one of these days and be resuscitated/restored.

For some reason, it felt like Christmas came early. A newly cleaned room reminds me of the holidays because general cleaning has been part our family Christmas tradition. Plus, I bought some new stuff which gave the room a brand new feel. I even changed the layout; symbolic of the turning of the proverbial new leaf.

Considering that other people suffered a great deal more, I may not have the right to rant. Or it may be insensitive for me to do so. Still, accepting this twist of fate was not easy. Among my personal casualties are books and magazines accumulated over the years. I lost some hard-to-find books, some newly purchased books, years-worth of issues of my favorite magazine and the last remaining copy of a Rizal textbook, part of which I co-wrote. Being an advocate of the printed art, it was hard for me to let go of these personal treasures. They are my invaluable investments and sources of inspiration. Excuse the dramatics but I feel like part of me was washed away.

On a more positive light, all of my electrical appliances were intact and functioning (can't live without a hair dryer...ok, I'm just kidding). And on a more personal level, Ondoy gave me some paradigm shift; I realize a lot of things. I realize I miss this good old place. I miss being home a few minutes after leaving the office. I miss waking up at 5am for some morning activities (either blog, surf, read or workout). What I didn’t miss is the uneasy feeling every time it starts to rain hard.

This year is turning out to be an annus horribilis for our country. First, the death of Cory then the double whammy of Ondoy-Pepeng. And next year is bound to be circus with the elections.

I’d like to think that I am ready for the next Ondoy. But please, not in the near future. I’ve had enough for now. This experience is already good enough for some storytelling with the grandchildren.

***

Downpour on my soul
Splashing in the ocean, I’m losing control
Dark sky all around
I can’t feel my feet touching the ground
But if I can’t swim after forty days
And my mind is crushed by the thrashing waves
Lift me up so high that I cannot fall
Lift me up

- Flood (Jars of Clay)

Life After Ondoy

This week has been surreal in a cataclysmic kind of way. After Ondoy (Ketsana) sent a record amount of rain last weekend, the most populated parts of Luzon was plunged into a state of horrible devastation. Lives were lost and lives were changed.

Monday morning in the office was gloomy. Although more than half was able to report to work, we worry about those who were severely affected. Everyone present seemed lost in their own bubble of sheer luck. Like we were all holding a fragile bottle of felix felicis in our hands. Being a “survivor” comes with a trickle of guilt. After seeing the horrorscapes on TV, most of the unaffected felt like they won a second lease on life.

Conversations were limited to stories of the weekend’s disaster. And in some stories we find something funny. Trust Filipinos to find some light humor in the midst of these challenging trials.

As P said, there is nothing like a disaster to put things into perspective. For what it’s worth, Ondoy was a painful eye-opener. For both victims and survivors.

Here are the things I want to change after this catastrophe. When the muck and mud has been cleared, we have no choice but move on and swallow Ondoy’s bitter pill.

Weather Forecast Should Include Expected Rainfall. For a country visited by no less than 14 typhoons yearly, typhoon is a fact of life. PAGASA (whose forecast accuracy is questionable) warns us about coming typhoons using Signals 1 to 4. But these signals only foretell wind strength. As Ondoy showed us, rains and resultant floods can be as destructive.



Telecoms Should Provide Calamity Text Advisories. Come on... as the text capital of the world, we are pestered by text messages informing us about sales, promos and marketing gimmicks. But at the height of calamity, we were left in the cold. The government should require the big three telecoms to provide info blast (weather forecast, traffic, evacuation plans) in times of disaster.



There Should Be A Typhoon/Flood Drill. We have heard of fire and earthquake drills; I think a typhoon and flood drill should also be in place. On a greater scale, our country needs to beef up its disaster preparedness measures. And I nominate Kris Aquino to lead this drill (so that everyone will follow). Sarcasm aside, we need to inform people where to go during calamities. Places can be marked as “flood or earthquake shelters,” meaning it’s safe to go there when disaster strikes. Educate your kids also on what to do. Teach them MacGyver instincts.Like when Ondoy flash floods happened, people didn’t realize that they can put empty plastic bottles inside a bag or sack and use these as “floaters.”



Study Ondoy’s Destructive Pattern For Future Warning References. Many firsts happened over the weekend. Floods inundated places that were once safe. First time that the floods reach the second floor in some places. Someone should study the trend so they can give precious warnings for upcoming disasters. For example, at what amount of rainfall should this and this area be flooded? At what critical level should Marikina River be to start a forced evacuation?



That Everyone Should Have A Disaster Kit. Very much like first aid kits, this can be a plastic container containing “living” essentials: canned food, Quaker Instant Oatmeal (better than rice or noodles in terms of storage and cooking convenience), candles, matches, long-life crackers and don’t forget the can opener...inflatables are optional; which can last your family for 2-3 days. This should be placed in the safest and accessible part of the house (and checked once in a while if some food has gone stale). We will never know when disaster will strike (think earthquake or tsunami). Also, those with cars should have a survival kit in their trunks. Get an old bag and place water, biscuits and a full set of clothes inside.



That Images Of Ondoy’s Aftermath Be Shown Before The May Elections. We elect people to “govern” us especially in times of distress. Where are these people when we need them the most?! You can argue that they were helping out silently or secretly (without media coverage). But still, it’s disappointing to realize that we were led by Tina Monson-Palma, Kris Aquino and Kuya Kim in the past week. (Which reminds me, these three should be given humanitarian awards. You can say what you want about Kris, but she rose to the occasion and HELPED IN A BIG WAY. How many famous people can claim that?)



Sadly, Metro Manila did not learn from the Milenyo experience. I hope this second blow of Ondoy will make us take stock about certain things. We are not sinners (as the now-famous FB status declared), but to NOT LEARN from this experience will make us a bunch of fools.

A little paranoia and some preparedness might get us through the next Ondoy, the next Pepeng or the next Arroyo.

Q-Tips

These are helpful tips I read online or in magazines (Men’s Health is a gold mine of tips). I have tried them all. Guaranteed effective or your money back!

Wax Antiseptic

Hair Wax is better than hair gel in all parameters except one: it is hell to remove or shampoo off. What you do is soap your hair first (with regular bar soap; but I actually use Perla). The soap will dissolve the bond of the wax to your hair. Rinse and proceed with your usual shampoo.


Oral Lessons

When brushing your pearly whites, use a wet toothpaste first. Meaning no toothpaste yet. This will untangle most of the debris from your teeth. Toothpaste (especially here in the Philippines) are so sudsy that it makes toothbrushing “slippery.” Hence, it makes the toothbrush bristle glide smoothly over food particles stuck on your teeth instead of removing it.

See also related tip below.

Being Wise Can Shed Calories

Diet is one of the most misunderstood words in the English dictionary. Said the nutritionist. Diet is not about depriving yourself of food. It is about (Diet Tip #1) eating wisely. Not eating only ruins your metabolism; which defeats the purpose of your dieting.

Diet Tip #2: Listen to your body. Sometimes we think we are hungry when we are just thirsty.

Diet Tip #3: Quell the urge for that after-dinner sweets or midnight snack by brushing your teeth immediately after dinner.


Save Me

Finding it hard to save money from your just-sufficient salary? If you receive a 10-peso coin as loose change, do not spend it but instead place it in a container. You will be surprised at how much you can save without you knowing it or feeling it in your pockets. My 10-peso collection saved me one time when I forgot to withdraw cash.


Charge It To Experience

The USB port might be the techie’s best friend but they are your batteries’ enemies. As much as possible, do not charge phones and MP3 devices through your laptop. Charge it directly to an electrical outlet. Laptop charging is considered secondary (current passes from laptop to your device). This will ultimately ruin the battery life of your precious phones or MP3 players. I should know... autopsy revealed that this was the C.O.D. of my first iPod (RIP).


Goody Two-Shoes


Listen, ladies...You are better off with two pairs of high-quality shoes than four cheap ones. Look what it did to Imelda.

Seriously...buy two good pairs of shoes and alternate it. This will allow your shoes to dry before you use it again.


Corporate Netiquette

In today’s world of social networking and blog diaries, it is wise to keep your work-related sentiments on private profile or invisible mode. Unless you want to receive an angry emoticon from your boss or a shout-out (read as Shout: Out!!!) from HR.

Having said that...try the new Quaker Oatmeal Cookies. Not because I am the PM but because they are really really good (for your tastebuds and for your health)... And for your pockets too, coz it only costs 10 pesos a piece. That's like health for some loose change. Amazing! Unbelievable! Need I say more. Grab it.