I’ve always claimed to be an insomniac.  Not diagnosed by any medical professional, just by a professional hypochondriac.  For years I’ve managed to survive on little sleep. For the most part, I’d have a hard time falling asleep, but once I finally do, I’ll be knocked out for a good five or six hours.

If you ask my family and friends, they’ll tell you that there are two main causes for my difficulty in falling asleep.  One is the high volume of caffeinated and sugar-laced beverages I consume in any given day (Think a combo of Coffee, Iced Tea and Coke Light).  The other is sleeping with my laptop next to my bed.  Sometimes I have a hard time turning away from it or putting it to sleep.  In fact, I’ve been known to stare at the screen and watch how fast my TV shows are downloading.

I admit I do have some weird sleeping habits.  If I fall asleep before 12midnight, chances are I will wake up after two hours and not be able to sleep again for another four.  I also am not a napper.  When my officemates would take naps at their desk during lunch, I never did.  Why? Because I know I snore, so I just don’t nap.  This is probably a good thing because when I do take naps, it takes more time and energy for me to fall asleep at night.

As I’ve gotten used to falling asleep in the wee hours of the morning, I’ve always counted on my five or six hours.  But somehow, in the last month or so, sleep has been very hard to come by.  For the first couple of weeks of October, I’d get four hours of sleep.  It didn’t matter what time I slept.  If I sleep at midnight, I’ll wake up at 4.  If I slept at 4 am, I’ll wake up at 8.

But that’s not even the end of it.  For the last two weeks, my precious four hours have dwindled down to two.  My doctor prescribed something but I don’t want to get dependent on them, so I only take it once a week.

So two hours of sleep.  If I’m lucky I occasionally cross over to the three hour mark.  Thankfully, I’ve been blessed with the ability, or lack thereof for getting eyebags.  Yes my undereye circles get pretty dark, but never any eye bags.  I tell my friends that God realized that I wont sleep even if he gives them to me, so what would be the point?

And now it’s 304am and once again, sleep is hard to find.  Though the eyelids are getting a teensy-weensy bit heavy now, still not quite there.  I tell myself there must be some reason beyond just the caffeine and sugar high that is preventing me from falling asleep.  Am I worried about something? Granted there are lots of things going on in my life right now.  Am I excited about something? Perhaps. But its not as if I haven’t been worried or excited before.  Is it because I haven’t worked out  much this last month?  But then again, trying to figure out the answers to these questions will cause my brain to start working on overdrive and it’ll be even harder to sleep.

So maybe I should finish this entry and let my brain fade away.  I’ll play a TV show that doesn’t require much brain activity and attempt to sleep. There’ll be plenty of time to figure out the answers some other day.

But, yes in case you’re wondering…I am very, very tired.

That’s all for now…bow.

Just like Maria, “Somewhere in my youth or childhood, I must have done something good” to have been blessed with friends and family who braved the rains and traffic, who patiently sat and waited as the evening’s entertainment was delayed by torrential rains, who stayed up past their bedtimes on a weeknight to surprise me with a totally unexpected birthday party.

Wasn’t really up to celebrating my birthday with a bang this year, was going more for a whimper. I was just planning to have quiet dinners with small groups of friends.  And I was also deeply embroiled in planning a surprise party for one of my oldest friends.

Well, it seems, I was the one who was surprised.  The party that I was planning was hijacked by my friends and turned into a joint surprise party for my friend and me.  I walked in, ready to warn them that the guest of honor was just making a quick stop in the restroom, when I was greeted by a loud, “Surprise!” and was shocked to see the group looking at me expectantly.  It didn’t really sink in until I saw my brother and sister-in-law, plus old work friends gathered along with the crowd that I invited for the other surprise.

There was even a cake given by my Flight Attendant friend who couldn’t join us due to her work schedule.  And a cake made just for me, with my picture and a purple purse and boots.

To say that I was surprised is an understatement.  I am astonished, flabbergasted, stupefied and truly, truly touched.   In a year where the bad has, on occasion, overshadowed the good, it was great to feel the love.

To all those who planned, plotted and partied with us, and clapped for me when I sang…THANK YOU, THANK YOU FROM THE BOTTOM OF MY HEART and THANK YOU, THANK YOU FROM INDAY’S BOTTOMLESS HEART.

We went back to our Dance Hall Days and partied like it was 1999.  We proved to everyone that We’ve Got the Beat.  These are the Days we’ll remember so Don’t you Forget About me.   I am Lost in Emotion and I have No More Words to tell you just how happy you’ve all made me.  I want to Rock with You forever because for me, each one of you is…GOLD.

That’s all for now…bow.

Today my mom and I were late for our usual village mass so we ended up going to another church instead.  It was more crowded than the one I usually attend and it made me realize all those little things that annoy me when I go to mass.  And it just confirmed why I only like going to mass in certain churches at certain times.

 

1. Why do people rush to the front of the line during Holy Communion?  It’s not like the mass will finish any earlier of you are first, fifth or last in the line.  And I hate those who walk next to the existing line in hopes that someone will let them cut in.  I only see this happen here in the Philippines. 
2. If you’re going to talk during mass, the least you can do is keep your voice down.   Hey, I too engage in a little chit-chat in the middle of mass, but I make an effort to talk in my “inside voice”.  Today there was a couple behind me who were chit-chatting about their gimmick the night before as if they were in the middle of a noisy restaurant. 
3. Yes it’s good that you bring your kids to church, but it’s not so good that you let them run around and play and even scream.  This little girl was running around church today chasing after her friend, and everytime they caught up with each other they would scream.  And the parents would just smile at them.  There’s a park outside, make them run out there.
4. Mass time is not snack time.  Yes I know that sometimes kids get hungry during mass.  That’s fine.  But I once heard mass and got confused when I heard paper rustling behind me.  And what did I see?  This couple standing behind me were eating McDonald’s burgers and fries.  DURING THE MASS! Ok so we were standing on the steps in front of the church, but still!   And what annoyed me even more? One of the kids who hangs out in the church parking lot begging for change went up to them and asked for food, they shooed him away.   They were already being disrespectful to the church and they were even being selfish.  They should have just eaten their burgers in McDo.
5. Does it still count if you spend the whole mass outside the church, smoking and chit-chatting with your friends?  In Christ the King in Greenmeadows, there are always groups of people who just stay outside the front of the church with their cigarettes and talking animatedly with their friends.  I don’t even think they are aware of what is going on inside the church.

I know, I’m in church, I should be more forgiving of my fellowman, but some people just make it so hard….

I guess I should pray for patience and the ability not to sweat the small stuff?

That’s all for now…bow.  

This week I watched two musicals on Broadway.  And, in my opinion, they couldn’t have been more different.

First I saw Spiderman, Turn Off the Dark.  I think it should have been called Spiderman, Take me out of the Dark.  It was soooo boring that my sister and I decided not to finish the play.  We left at intermission.  Thankfully, we got a great discount on the tickets so it didn’t really hurt that much.  But when I think of the $100 I spent, I can’t help but think of all the goodies I could have bought in Sephora.  The music was just ok.  For the first act at least, there was no memorable song.  And there was something very elementary about the production.  I guess the intention was a comic book treatment but I think it could have been done better.  That big inflatable giant he wrestled with just looked kinda sad.  And there was something cloying about the voice of Mary Jane.   It was so bad, I didn’t even bother to take any pictures.

The last play of my mini-Broadway season was thankfully, a masterpiece, Pippin.  My sisters had seen Pippin during the previews and they already told me that it was a must-see show.  And when my friend went to New York a few weeks before I did, she also said that I had to see it.  So I made sure it was on my list.  The tickets were a bit pricey because it was such a hit show, but thanks to another sister’s discount, we managed to get a good deal on our tickets.  And so it was set.  We found out that Andrea Martin, who had won a Tony for her performance as Berthe was ending her run.  I was a disappointed because I knew she was so good in the play.  But when I found out that Tovah Feldshuh I was a little less so.  I knew her from her performances in Holocaust and as a recurring character on Law and Order so I was also looking forward to seeing how she would tackle the role.

From the moment the first not of the first song played, I got goosebumps.  The familiar play, one that we had seen many times on TV and stage, was transformed into a truly magical experience.  Patina Miller’s invited us to “join us and leave the fields to flower” almost made me want to go on stage and be part of the magic.  Her interpretation of a character that made Ben Vereen famous was mesmerizing.  When Matthew James Thomas told us about that Corner of the Sky he was looking for, you wanted to help him find it.

And when Tovah Feldshuh asked us to join in and tell Pippin it was time to start living, you believed every moment of it.  This was truly the best way to cap my mini-season.

Overall, this was a great mini-season for me.  The only disappointment was Spiderman.  But the other three plays I saw, Romeo and Juliet, First Date and Pippin were clear winners.  Not to mention the benefits of being thisclose to Orlando Bloom and Zachary Levy.

Now it’s time to start living, find my own corner of the sky and hopefully go on that elusive perfect first date.

That’s all for now…bow.

A few months ago, my brother messaged the family to tell us that the SF Giants were playing the NY Yankees on my birthday.  Since this would fall right smack in the middle of my scheduled US trip, I eagerly said yes to watching the game.  Soon, all my other siblings decided that they too would watch.  Before we knew it, we bought the tickets and we were set.

So, on Saturday, Sept 21, Inday and her siblings took the train and headed to the Yankee Stadium.  It was my first time to visit the new stadium.  I never even got to visit the old one.  We posed for photos in front of the stadium before heading in to our bleacher seats.

I had been saving up for new zoom lens for my camera and got a good deal, thanks to my stepmom deciding to sell her zoom lens.  So the new lens made its debut at the game.  I took lots of photos of the field and my favorite Giants players.

After the Yankees scored 3 runs and the Giants were at 0, we decided to walk around the stadium.  And what happened? The Yankees hit a homerun and my brother, the one Yankee fan in the whole family missed it.  We kept walking around, stopping every few minutes to check out the game.  We bought snacks, shopped for souvenirs and posed for pictures.

But more than just the fun of watching the game, it was that we were watching the game together.  My siblings and I live in different parts of the world, so gathering for this weekend in New York was truly special.  Unfortunately, our youngest brother wasn’t able to join us due to school commitments.  My other sister in law was also absent.  But nevertheless, being with this crazy bunch still made this a memorable birthday.  What would have made this birthday an even bigger winner? If the Giants won the game…

We had so much fun that we’re already talking about making this sibling trip an annual event.  My oldest brother will celebrate his 50^th birthday next year so we’re trying to decide what sporting event, in which part of the world we will watch on his birthday.  Other suggestions were a cruise or a visit to the South of France.  Am looking forward to the Inday photo-ops that will arise from that vacation.

That’s all for now….bow.

Ateneo’s UAAP season is over, they are out of the Final Four.  It’s the end of the streaks and –peats.  But for me, it’s more than just the end of the so-called dynasty.  It’s also the end of a special time in my life that I shared with my dad.

Growing up in a sports-loving family, I would always be aware of what was happening in the sports world but my life life didn’t revolve around game schedules.

I had no choice but to watch the PBA games on TV because dad was watching them.  My sister and I were cheering for the LA Dodgers in the 1981 World Series against the Yankees, just to annoy our older brother.  (And because I found Bob Welch, a pitcher for the Dodgers cute) I followed the career of Bjorn Borg, mostly because I thought he was very gwapo.  And when I moved to the US, I started following the Oakland A’s because Bob Welch was now playing with them.  I lived in SF during the Steve Young-Jerry Rice 49ers era.  And watched a few Giants games at Candlestick Park.  But even then, you wouldn’t really see me buying team shirts, or knowing players or team stats or planning my life around the games.

When I was a high school senior in Assumption, my sister, who was already a junior in Ateneo, brought me to my first UAAP game.  They were playing against NU, who were the league cellar dwellers at that time.  Not a very exciting game, but it didn’t matter.  I was hooked.   Back then the games weren’t the sell-outs that they are now.  The only people watching were the team’s families, girlfriends and friends.  I would watch the weekend games with my sister.  And even went to an Ateneo La-Salle game in Rizal Memorial Coliseum in full hair and make-up because it was the day of my high school yearbook pictorial.  I knew the players’ names and would even save newspaper clippings in my planner.

When I started college in Ateneo, I got into the games even more because I got to know the members of the team.   There was just something different and more personal when you’re cheering for your friends and classmates. And, because my sister was one of the team managers (which in those days meant water girl and, in her case, also meant tutor for the players) for a few months, I would even watch their practices.   Unfortunately, I moved to the US in 1987 and didn’t get to see them win their back-to-back ’87-’88 championships.

When I moved back to Manila in 1995, I had stopped following the team.  In fact, I had pretty much stopped following any sports team.   Until the day my dad called and offered me an extra ticket to an Ateneo basketball game.  That was in 2001.  The rest is history.  Since then I have become an Ateneo basketball addict.  I plan my weekends around game schedules.  The finals are usually played around my birthday so I choose to work on my actual birthday so I can take the day off come game day.  I always say that the best part of my retirement from my full-time job was that I could watch all the weekday games.  I had a pile of blue t-shirts in my closet that I could wear to the games (am not a white t-shirt girl) And I would be late for parties (and once even to my friend’s wedding) if the game goes into overtime.

Because I started watching basketball, I also started paying attention to other sports as well.  My brother, during one of my long vacations in SF, brainwashed me into becoming a SF Giants fan.  (In fact, my siblings are gathering here in NY this weekend to watch the Giants-Yankees game).  My sister is now trying to convince me to love football as much as she does (I am still a work in progress). I am always happy when Rafael Nadal wins a championship.  I’ve watched a few live NBA games.  And, prior to this trip, the last plays I watched in New York were Lombardi (about legendary football coach Vince Lombardi) and Magic/Bird (which told the story of the friendship and rivalry between Magic Johnson and Larry Bird)

This recent love affair with Ateneo basketball started as an opportunity to spend more quality time with my dad.  There was a lot about the game I didn’t really understand but I didn’t care.  Those game days were special family time that were, for us at least, sacred.  Dad started buying season tickets.  We came up with our own personal superstitions.  We’d go to mass at the Gesu after winning or losing championships.  We’d even brave the muddy fields to attend the bonfires.  I would wear a shirt until the team lost and then would find a new shirt.  I tried to change the styling up a bit for every game hoping people wouldn’t notice.  I even started subscribing to tfc.tv so I could watch the games when I was out of the country.  I bought a DVD recorder so I could record the games and watch them again once I got home (I usually close my eyes during very tense moments so I missed a lot of the live action). For my friends, the funniest part of this Ateneo basketball addiction is that I actually only went to Ateneo for a year before I moved to the US to finish college.

But more than just watching basketball, it was the knowledge that, despite our busy schedules, for the few months of UAAP season, I knew that we would have a standing date with dad.

He passed away the day before the Fil-Oil Ateneo-La Salle game, which Ateneo won by the way.  We were supposed to watch that game together.   It would have been the first Ateneo game I would watch after the many trips I had taken since the middle of Season 75.   He had already purchased our tickets for Season 76 and we were looking forward to seeing what the new coach and the team would do this season.

The elimination of Ateneo from this season’s final four is the end of an era for the team.  It is the end of the five and 14 streak.  For me, it is the end of years of those game dates with my dad.  No more texts to ask if I was watching or if we could ride to the game together.  No more teasing me that I am “bad luck” when the team loses and I’m there.  It is the end of a special time in my life that I would always treasure because I shared them with my dad.

This has been a year filled with challenges for the team and controversies for the league.  I can just imagine what my dad must be thinking.  And I can only guess what he would say.  This next season will start a new beginning for the team, and for us.  And though watching UAAP will never be the same again without him, his love for sports will always be a gift that he gave to us.

Thanks dad.  One big fight…

That’s all for now…bow.

As my  birthday is fast approaching, I can’t help but look back and reflect on the year that was.  (please excuse the length of this entry, after all, we’re talking a whole year’s worth of stories)

A year ago, I celebrated my birthday in the hospital. Not because I was sick but because I was there to keep my youngest sister company. She had just finished her first round of chemo and was having a severe reaction to the medication.

Barely a month before, my sister was diagnosed with cancer and back then, I thought that was the biggest challenge my family would have to face. Little did I know that less than a year later we would once again face a bigger tragedy.

Before any of this happened, I was living what I thought was a simple life. I was enjoying being a freelance writer, having control over my own schedule.  I was relishing the freedom from the pressures of forcing clients to pay for awardable ads that they didn’t ask for.  I was getting regular projects which helped fund my basic needs—coffee, cigarettes, regular salon visits, occasional dinners with friends and videoke nights.  I had finally started this blog and was getting ready to share my stories with the small but loyal following Inday had built through facebook photo albums.  (This consisted mostly of family and friends, so loyal was indeed an appropriate description).  I had no idea that those adventures would take me this far.

From the moment my sister began her chemo treatments and for the next five months, my life’s focus had changed.  I went from my regular routine to taking care of her.  I was happy to do it and, for the family, it was the simplest solution.  After all, I didn’t have a full time job and thus was able to be where my family needed me to be.  When my sister was going on a long trip, I flew 31 hours from Manila to New York to babysit my nephew.  I was my dad’s regular traveling companion on his business trips because he hated traveling alone.  So, spending time in Singapore for my sister’s chemo or staying with her in Dubai between treatments was no big deal.  And, there was some personal benefit too—more stamps on my passport and more Inday photo shoots.

But, my sister’s situation made an impact on the family in many other ways.  It brought us closer together.  She and I had kind of drifted apart.  It was inevitable since she moved away from home when she was 18 to go to college in the US and there was the 11-year age gap.  But with the time we spent together, she had once again become my little baby.  We found our way back to being, not just sisters, but true friends.  For the first in many years, I got to spend Christmas Eve with both my mom and my dad, something that hadn’t happened since they separated when I was 18.  Since then it was a very amicable and practical schedule of Eve with dad, Day with mom etc etc etc.   But last year, there we were in one room—my dad, mom, stepmom, brothers, sister-in-law, sister and nephews and niece.  Sadly, my sister and her son in New York and my brother and his family in San Francisco couldn’t join us.  But we were optimistic that this would be the start of a new holiday tradition for the family.

In January, we got the good news that we had all been praying for. My sister’s cancer was gone, though we’d still need to wait a few months before she got the official all clear.  This would mean regular check ups every month but life had pretty much gotten back to normal. I finally went back home and planned for the rest of the year.  I went to the US in February for a bit of R and R. I was there for 6 weeks,  and even managed to squeeze in a trip to LA to attend the trial of my friend’s stepmom who murdered her dad. This was a much needed girl bonding with old high school friends. Then, it was back to San Francisco to wait for my dad’s arrival. I always look forward to these US trips with my dad. We don’t really do much but even just hanging out at home is fun.

In May I was hired to be the writer for the Balangay Festival in Butuan City, which meant staying in Butuan for 3 weeks.  I arrived in Manila on May 25 and was looking forward to the Ateneo-La Salle game on June 1. This would also be the first time I would see my dad upon my return.

I had no idea that barely a week after my return, my life would be turned upside-down and sideways. I was having dinner with friends on May 30th when I got the message that my dad was in the emergency room. I rushed to the hospital and was able to catch up with my dad.  I updated him about work and other family news.  I bought him the can of Coke when the doctors allowed him to have one (of course he took more than that) sip of.  We stayed with him till he was transferred to the ICU. The doctors were concerned about his low blood pressure and they wanted him to be closely monitored. There was an infection but they were still trying to figure out what it was. I was hearing words like Necrotizing Fasciitis being bandied about. All of a sudden the images of Dr House and Grey’s Anatomy started playing in my head.

We went home and made plans to return the next day. I was back in the hospital by noon and was happy to find dad awake and alert and his usual cantankerous self—complaining about the beeps from the machines and the wires they stuck to him and the doctors who kept poking him—all these things prevented him from getting a wink of sleep the night before. He asked me to scratch his head so he could sleep.  I’d been doing this since I was a little girl and he would pay me, five pesos for five minutes.  As I grew older, I waved my fee but would still gladly scratch his head whenever he asked.  I was glad to see that he was able to sleep for an hour.  But once the doctors came back he was awake again.  I kept on scratching his head till I noticed that he was drifting off to sleep again.  My stepmom came back from her lunch break and my brother and I decided to grab a quick bite in the cafeteria. Dad was on pain killers which were helping him fall back asleep and he said to me, “If you’re tired na Ramona, you can stop. I’m ok. I’m falling asleep na.”  I had no idea that those would be the last words he would ever say to me.  And I can’t help but think that when he said, “I’m ok. I’m falling asleep.” He was somehow saying goodbye to me.

We were in the cafeteria when we were summoned back to the room.  Dad was unconscious and they had called a code.  All the years of watching medical shows made me aware of exactly what was happening.  My heart was beating fast when I saw that they were going to intubate him and when I saw them giving him CPR and when I saw that his numbers weren’t very promising on the machines.  All the prayers and novenas were on a continuous loop in my head.

At 5:19 PM my dad died.  And life would never be the same again.  Everything had changed, suddenly, painfully, permanently,

And, to paraphrase a line from Grey’s Anatomy which we used for our eulogy, we would now have to learn to live in a world where my dad didn’t exist.

Those first few days after were all business.  The siblings flew home one by one.  We had funeral arrangements, masses and a wake to arrange.  We had to choose a crypt, publish an obituary and deal with legal matters.  It’s what comes after that you aren’t prepared for.  Because once all the must-dos are over, you have to wake up every day with that empty feeling knowing that you will never see him again.  That moment of realization when you know he won’t be on the other end of the line when you call his number.  That feeling that there’s a big gaping hole in your heart.  Three months later, that hole is just as large, just as empty.

And then there are the firsts… the first Ateneo game of the UAAP  Season 76 without him, the first Father’s Day when you have no father, the first family gatherings he was absent for.  And, in just a week, my first birthday without my daddy.

To say that the last year has been crazy, is most definitely an understatement.  It has been a test of how strong a family can be, and ours did rise to the challenge.  This last year has been a time of finding out who your true friends are, who your allies are and who will let you down.

This last year has made me learn what is important, who is important and just how much my spirit can take.

So, with my birthday just around the corner, I thank my family whose love knows no bounds and without whom I would never have survived, my friends whose unwavering support make each day easier, my kids, who, though I didn’t give birth to, give me hugs and kisses on demand which never fail to bring a smile to my face.  And to my alter ego Inday, who gives me the courage to show a hidden side, who allows me to have that moment of utter confidence when I really don’t care what the world thinks of me and who lets me laugh at the world when it isn’t always easy.

And for all of Inday’s friends, thank you for always making her (and me) feel the love.

That’s all for now….bow.