just a few corrections on my last entry, entitled Ceboom.
Number one: The spa at Maribago Bluewater Resort is called Amuma, the Visayan word for pampering. It is Buyong Maribago, Mactan Island, Cebu, Philippines. Check out www.bluewater.com.ph.
Number two: The wine bar and cellar and deli in which I met Cebu Governor Gwen Garcia is not Azzasi, but Tinderbox.
It's Labor Day today. And just came back from another hour of pampering, a Diamond Peel, at Dermastrata at SM Southmall. Nothing quite like the Chi Spa and Amuma in Cebu, but I fell asleep and my face now is as soft and supple and clean as a baby's. Somehow, at the back of mind, I'm wondering: Are these day spas at the mall following stringent measures of hygiene? Dermstrata smells and feels clean and I make it a point to have them change the towels in front of me, but I hate it that the therapists talk to each other as though the customers are invisible. Tried to shush them several times, but now I know better: I put on earplugs and get lost in my iPod throughout the treatment.
But theese day spas are mushrooming sitting next to each other all over the place. A new one just opened yesterday, perfuming the air at SM Southmall with lavender. I forget the name, but it looks quite high end, with some Thai wooden structure bordering the entrance. Will try it soon enough.
Monday, April 30, 2007
CEBOOM
Just got back from Heaven.
I spent the weekend in Cebu, where, for two nights in a row, I had my muscles kneaded like dough, my flesh rubbed, my bones stretched, and all my stresses melted away through the Filipino's answer to the Thai and Swedish massage, hilot.
The first hilot was at the Chi Spa Village at Shangri-La Mactan. It was the second time for me, though the first time about two years ago when Chi had just opened had too many distractions what with all the extras thrown in to turn my brief indulgence into a five-hour total relaxation package, inclusive of a hydromassage, a facial, a foot treatment, etcetera, etcetera. Too much of a good thing, indeed, is not as pleasing, so on this second time I made sure I had only one hour and a half to lose myself in the pampering, healing, rejuvenating powers of touch.
The next night was at Ayuyam, the wellness center at the new extension of the old Maribago Blue Waters Resort, which was not as lavish as the Chi experience in terms of ambience and extra touches, but just as good (BUT then again just a teeny-weeny bit less expensive). Nevertheless, I loved my room at Maribago so much better than my room at the Shang, if only because it welcomed me with a huge bathroom with a tub a-bloom with bougainvilla. The spa was like twenty steps away and the grounds seemed private enough I felt comfortable walking back to my room across the pool area at two in the morning with nothing on but a pair of flimsy shorts, what I wore during my hilot.
This last trip to Cebu was also special because of my discovery of Abaca, a new restaurant, which is really just the dining outlet of a nine-room boutique hotel on the bank of the Mactan Channel. Owned by Korean Anna Ido Hyatt, who really spent most of her time as a fashion marketing specialist in Hong Kong, and her Australian chef husband Jayson, the resort has yet to pen, but the restaurant is already packing it in, what with great food and a great ambience, overlooking the channel, but feeling more like a hip resto in, say, Sydney or Hong Kong or Malibu (not that I've been to the last one). On the night I went, I bumped into Tourism Secretary Ace Durano and he was very gracious enough to introduce me to his wife and his friends. They were there to celebrate his birthday. Anna also took a lot of time to talk to me and my companions and she was so much fun, modern, candid, and totally sophisticated.
The next evening I spent chatting with Cebu governor Gwen Garcia over French wine, cheese, and cold cuts at the ultra cool (literally) wine cellar at Assazi (not sure about the name). Again, it was refreshing to talk to a politician like this hip governor in her slim jeans, stilleto boots, and a tiny shirt that revealed a Scarlet O'hara waistline, minus the corset. The place was also quite international in flavor, thoroughly sleek and modern, with a lot of glass and perfect lighting.
Cebu is really turning out to be quite as chic as Hong Kong in places. No wonder more and more of the affluent Cebuanos are beginning to overlook the Philippines on their where-to-go-for-fun map. Next month, there will be direct flights to and from Shanghai at the Mactan International Airport, so I guess more and more tourists will have to skip Manila on their way to Paradise.
As for me, I believe I am going back three more times before July, one of which is to accept the governor's invitation to experience what she calls suroy-suroy or suri-suri (no time to check right now) and the other to take Shangri-La up on its offer to arrange a trip to acquaint me more thoroughly with the fashionable side of this happening city.
So Ceboom Ceboom, here I come (again and again)!
I spent the weekend in Cebu, where, for two nights in a row, I had my muscles kneaded like dough, my flesh rubbed, my bones stretched, and all my stresses melted away through the Filipino's answer to the Thai and Swedish massage, hilot.
The first hilot was at the Chi Spa Village at Shangri-La Mactan. It was the second time for me, though the first time about two years ago when Chi had just opened had too many distractions what with all the extras thrown in to turn my brief indulgence into a five-hour total relaxation package, inclusive of a hydromassage, a facial, a foot treatment, etcetera, etcetera. Too much of a good thing, indeed, is not as pleasing, so on this second time I made sure I had only one hour and a half to lose myself in the pampering, healing, rejuvenating powers of touch.
The next night was at Ayuyam, the wellness center at the new extension of the old Maribago Blue Waters Resort, which was not as lavish as the Chi experience in terms of ambience and extra touches, but just as good (BUT then again just a teeny-weeny bit less expensive). Nevertheless, I loved my room at Maribago so much better than my room at the Shang, if only because it welcomed me with a huge bathroom with a tub a-bloom with bougainvilla. The spa was like twenty steps away and the grounds seemed private enough I felt comfortable walking back to my room across the pool area at two in the morning with nothing on but a pair of flimsy shorts, what I wore during my hilot.
This last trip to Cebu was also special because of my discovery of Abaca, a new restaurant, which is really just the dining outlet of a nine-room boutique hotel on the bank of the Mactan Channel. Owned by Korean Anna Ido Hyatt, who really spent most of her time as a fashion marketing specialist in Hong Kong, and her Australian chef husband Jayson, the resort has yet to pen, but the restaurant is already packing it in, what with great food and a great ambience, overlooking the channel, but feeling more like a hip resto in, say, Sydney or Hong Kong or Malibu (not that I've been to the last one). On the night I went, I bumped into Tourism Secretary Ace Durano and he was very gracious enough to introduce me to his wife and his friends. They were there to celebrate his birthday. Anna also took a lot of time to talk to me and my companions and she was so much fun, modern, candid, and totally sophisticated.
The next evening I spent chatting with Cebu governor Gwen Garcia over French wine, cheese, and cold cuts at the ultra cool (literally) wine cellar at Assazi (not sure about the name). Again, it was refreshing to talk to a politician like this hip governor in her slim jeans, stilleto boots, and a tiny shirt that revealed a Scarlet O'hara waistline, minus the corset. The place was also quite international in flavor, thoroughly sleek and modern, with a lot of glass and perfect lighting.
Cebu is really turning out to be quite as chic as Hong Kong in places. No wonder more and more of the affluent Cebuanos are beginning to overlook the Philippines on their where-to-go-for-fun map. Next month, there will be direct flights to and from Shanghai at the Mactan International Airport, so I guess more and more tourists will have to skip Manila on their way to Paradise.
As for me, I believe I am going back three more times before July, one of which is to accept the governor's invitation to experience what she calls suroy-suroy or suri-suri (no time to check right now) and the other to take Shangri-La up on its offer to arrange a trip to acquaint me more thoroughly with the fashionable side of this happening city.
So Ceboom Ceboom, here I come (again and again)!
Wednesday, April 25, 2007
CHO SENUNG HUI
Hey Ipsy,
Been very busy now that I have a double job and if lunch tomorrow proves fruitful, I'll have a third, too. Was out with my previously US, now Singapore-based friend Y who celebrated his birthday at anothe friend J's house. It was fun. As usual Y was his judgmental self. Why do i always feel that he is sizing me up, not so much concerned about where I have been and where I am headed, as long as he can make it clear to me, without leaving any evidence, that he is not impressed enough?
Anyway, that is no cause for alarm. Maybe it's just me. I guess I will just paste here an editorial I wrote for this coming Friday's edition of my weekender, a magazine that comes out with the Friday issue of Manila Bulletin.
Here it is:
LUCKY PEOPLE
This isn’t weekend reading, so it’s perfectly all right if you get right past this page and on to the next pages of pure leisure. On the other hand, since another weekend is upon us, it won’t hurt to be reminded that here is yet another great opportunity to bond with the people we love and the people who might find their way into our lives as we make the most of the next work-free days.
BLURB: First be a person who needs people —Barbra Streisand
I spent last Sunday reading up on Cho Seung-Hui, stumbling upon his plays, Richard McBeef and Mr. Brownstone. Cho’s former Creative Writing classmate Ian McFarlane, who posted the plays on AOL, described the works as “twisted” and “macabre,” but to me they were simply an assault to authority, parents and teachers, very sad at best.
In October, 2002, I was in the Washington D.C./Virginia/Maryland area, practically on the trail of John Allen Muhammad and Lee Boyd Malvo, the infamous snipers, as they were making their way to America’s history of violence, killing 10 people on a senseless shooting spree. Arriving at Union Station from New York, I found it totally a new experience to have to stay low, practically walking on all fours and making a shield out of parked cars, perchance the sniper was aiming his weapon at me.
I’ve been to many, supposedly richer parts of the world, where people are mostly alone. If only because in my immediate world there is always someone, whether a grandson or a grandniece, to accompany them, I find it sad, for instance, to see old women by themselves on a park bench in Paris or eating by their lonesome at a diner in New York. Maybe, it’s a blessing that here in the Philippines it’s more the norm to have as many as 10 people cramping a two-bedroom apartment, cousins and a distant aunt included. There is just so much room for self-indulgence, wallowing in self-pity or enraging yourself, when you are mostly on your own. Ever wonder why all serial killers, including Cho, are loners and why there is hardly any serial killer in Philippine history? With nobody to sort out their big issues with on why things are the way they are, these loners just have to shock the world so at last they can have its attention.
What a blessing in disguise, indeed, that in our part of the world solitude is a precious, often rare luxury! While people do love us and hurt us in equal doses, they do help us test our ammunition against challenges, without which, what is the point of living? More important, they do help us expand the scope of our experience, which is exactly what we need to understand this complicated world a little better.
With hope, you can spend this weekend with the people who can assure you there is always at least one person out there waiting to welcome you with open arms should you have the need for some company. This weekend, find time to say a prayer of thanks for the people who make up your life, keeping you on the ground, rather than leaving you to float, helpless and alone, in the bottomless pit of pointless hate, rage, and sadness.
Happy weekend!
A
Been very busy now that I have a double job and if lunch tomorrow proves fruitful, I'll have a third, too. Was out with my previously US, now Singapore-based friend Y who celebrated his birthday at anothe friend J's house. It was fun. As usual Y was his judgmental self. Why do i always feel that he is sizing me up, not so much concerned about where I have been and where I am headed, as long as he can make it clear to me, without leaving any evidence, that he is not impressed enough?
Anyway, that is no cause for alarm. Maybe it's just me. I guess I will just paste here an editorial I wrote for this coming Friday's edition of my weekender, a magazine that comes out with the Friday issue of Manila Bulletin.
Here it is:
LUCKY PEOPLE
This isn’t weekend reading, so it’s perfectly all right if you get right past this page and on to the next pages of pure leisure. On the other hand, since another weekend is upon us, it won’t hurt to be reminded that here is yet another great opportunity to bond with the people we love and the people who might find their way into our lives as we make the most of the next work-free days.
BLURB: First be a person who needs people —Barbra Streisand
I spent last Sunday reading up on Cho Seung-Hui, stumbling upon his plays, Richard McBeef and Mr. Brownstone. Cho’s former Creative Writing classmate Ian McFarlane, who posted the plays on AOL, described the works as “twisted” and “macabre,” but to me they were simply an assault to authority, parents and teachers, very sad at best.
In October, 2002, I was in the Washington D.C./Virginia/Maryland area, practically on the trail of John Allen Muhammad and Lee Boyd Malvo, the infamous snipers, as they were making their way to America’s history of violence, killing 10 people on a senseless shooting spree. Arriving at Union Station from New York, I found it totally a new experience to have to stay low, practically walking on all fours and making a shield out of parked cars, perchance the sniper was aiming his weapon at me.
I’ve been to many, supposedly richer parts of the world, where people are mostly alone. If only because in my immediate world there is always someone, whether a grandson or a grandniece, to accompany them, I find it sad, for instance, to see old women by themselves on a park bench in Paris or eating by their lonesome at a diner in New York. Maybe, it’s a blessing that here in the Philippines it’s more the norm to have as many as 10 people cramping a two-bedroom apartment, cousins and a distant aunt included. There is just so much room for self-indulgence, wallowing in self-pity or enraging yourself, when you are mostly on your own. Ever wonder why all serial killers, including Cho, are loners and why there is hardly any serial killer in Philippine history? With nobody to sort out their big issues with on why things are the way they are, these loners just have to shock the world so at last they can have its attention.
What a blessing in disguise, indeed, that in our part of the world solitude is a precious, often rare luxury! While people do love us and hurt us in equal doses, they do help us test our ammunition against challenges, without which, what is the point of living? More important, they do help us expand the scope of our experience, which is exactly what we need to understand this complicated world a little better.
With hope, you can spend this weekend with the people who can assure you there is always at least one person out there waiting to welcome you with open arms should you have the need for some company. This weekend, find time to say a prayer of thanks for the people who make up your life, keeping you on the ground, rather than leaving you to float, helpless and alone, in the bottomless pit of pointless hate, rage, and sadness.
Happy weekend!
A
Thursday, January 11, 2007
CRAZY HAPPY YEAR STARTER
I just got back to real life after two langorous days in Tagaytay.
It wasn't supposed to be langorous because it was work. It was a fashion shoot under the theme, "Lazy Summer Afternoons." But my friends and co-workers H and G spent the night there before the shoot, got ourselves a nice room, the Andalucia, at the Discovery Country Suites, and shot the bull all night, playing "Trivial Pursuit" with a touch of Charades only because most of the questions were just too difficult. I was second best, collecting two cards short of the six cards needed to win the game.
The next day, yesterday, on the day of the shoot, the rest of the team came. I booked this fabulous photographer from the Singapore Straits Times whose "eye" sees beauty in places that I don't even take a second look at. I also booked my favorite makeup team of C and J and Brazillian model Julianna, who was so game and so much fun! We spent most of the morning chatting over cups of coffee and bathing in the morning sunshine on the terrace of the Country Suites overlooking Taal, but that was because shoots always start after one hour of makeup and hairstyling, so the rest of the us were just so relaxed. L, the photographer, just spent three weeks in Laos and boy does she have great stories to tell about this mountainous paradise!
Lunch was a four-course meal specially prepared for us by the chef David Pardo de Ayala from Colombia. It was perfect for my braces because eveything was so tender there was hardly any need for chewing. We started with a salad, which I barely touched because I couldn't chew the greens and then it was followed by a bowl of heavenly asparagus soup and a beef dish with a side dish of mashed potatoes. A trio of panna cottas showered with pepper capped the "lazy summer" late lunch and again cups after cups of coffee.
The rest of the afternoon we spent at Ponderosa Leisure Farm, where the photographer L looked for the most undeveloped areas: tall grasses, open spaces, and old trees. The wind was cool, but the sun was out so it was a perfect combination. We were hopping in and out of two vans and a car, escorted by two security men on motorbikes, so we were making like we were on Amazing Race. It was fun!
After about seven setups that we finished in a breeze, we ended the day at Bags of Beans, where I had a fabulous pasta with cream and a hot chocolate. We were outdoors and it was so cold but we stayed out because we wanted to make the most of cool Tagaytay weather that actually felt like Hong Kong winter. I also bought my favorite, cinammon and raisin bread from Bags of Beans, though I had no doubt I couldn't eat it, unless I dipped it in in coffee til soggy.
Today drifted past in a haze. I was so busy arranging a trip to Hong Kong on Sunday, where my associate H and I are to cover the Hong Kong Fashion Week that runs til Thursday next week. I'm quite excited because this is going to be my first Fashion Week in Hong Kong. We're staying in a hotel called Emipre just three blocks away from the Hong Kong Convention Center, where the Fall-Winter 2007 collections will unfold. Of course, it will also be something of an edge for my magazine Sense&Style, though with all these last-minute preparations, H and I are really frantic about making sure we negotiate our way effectively through this forest of collections.
Today I spent mostly on the phone, also arranging trips to Boracay and El Nido, Palawan. I will fly to Boracay with a crew of 15 on Saturday, one day after I arrive from Hong Kong, whew! I'm very excited because this is really going to be a major production with four big ultra mega supermodels working with us. I realize how blessed I am with so many friends. Just as I was booking transfers from Caticlan to Boracay and from Boracay to Caticlan, a friend called to say a private boat will ferry us all right on the beachfront of our resorts in Station 1. The public ferries now all dock in the back as a new policy bars them from docking on the celebrated beachfront, but not me and my team.
Palawan I decided to ditch. I will send just one of my writers in my place. That is scheduled on the weekend after Boracay and I think I will really run out of breath if I jump on an airplane again after all these travel bonanza. Besides, I cannot be the only lucky one in our team. I need to distribute the blessings. I'd like my staff to see this job the way I see it, full of opportunities and always a door opening to brave new worlds, that is unless you are too lazy, too afraid, too crazy to walk past the doorway. Don't get me wrong. I've never monopolized the opportunities, even for travel, in my career, even as I was just getting started. My staff, in fact, get most of the opportunities now. All my writers are going to be with me in Boracay, too.
What a way, indeed, to get 2007 started! After all this hopping in and out of planes and boats and cars and all, it will soon be the Year of the Fire Pig. I claim it to be a good year, gentle as a pig, fat as a piggy bank, and with an appetite like that of a pig for the good things life has to offer.
Kung Hei Fat Choy!
It wasn't supposed to be langorous because it was work. It was a fashion shoot under the theme, "Lazy Summer Afternoons." But my friends and co-workers H and G spent the night there before the shoot, got ourselves a nice room, the Andalucia, at the Discovery Country Suites, and shot the bull all night, playing "Trivial Pursuit" with a touch of Charades only because most of the questions were just too difficult. I was second best, collecting two cards short of the six cards needed to win the game.
The next day, yesterday, on the day of the shoot, the rest of the team came. I booked this fabulous photographer from the Singapore Straits Times whose "eye" sees beauty in places that I don't even take a second look at. I also booked my favorite makeup team of C and J and Brazillian model Julianna, who was so game and so much fun! We spent most of the morning chatting over cups of coffee and bathing in the morning sunshine on the terrace of the Country Suites overlooking Taal, but that was because shoots always start after one hour of makeup and hairstyling, so the rest of the us were just so relaxed. L, the photographer, just spent three weeks in Laos and boy does she have great stories to tell about this mountainous paradise!
Lunch was a four-course meal specially prepared for us by the chef David Pardo de Ayala from Colombia. It was perfect for my braces because eveything was so tender there was hardly any need for chewing. We started with a salad, which I barely touched because I couldn't chew the greens and then it was followed by a bowl of heavenly asparagus soup and a beef dish with a side dish of mashed potatoes. A trio of panna cottas showered with pepper capped the "lazy summer" late lunch and again cups after cups of coffee.
The rest of the afternoon we spent at Ponderosa Leisure Farm, where the photographer L looked for the most undeveloped areas: tall grasses, open spaces, and old trees. The wind was cool, but the sun was out so it was a perfect combination. We were hopping in and out of two vans and a car, escorted by two security men on motorbikes, so we were making like we were on Amazing Race. It was fun!
After about seven setups that we finished in a breeze, we ended the day at Bags of Beans, where I had a fabulous pasta with cream and a hot chocolate. We were outdoors and it was so cold but we stayed out because we wanted to make the most of cool Tagaytay weather that actually felt like Hong Kong winter. I also bought my favorite, cinammon and raisin bread from Bags of Beans, though I had no doubt I couldn't eat it, unless I dipped it in in coffee til soggy.
Today drifted past in a haze. I was so busy arranging a trip to Hong Kong on Sunday, where my associate H and I are to cover the Hong Kong Fashion Week that runs til Thursday next week. I'm quite excited because this is going to be my first Fashion Week in Hong Kong. We're staying in a hotel called Emipre just three blocks away from the Hong Kong Convention Center, where the Fall-Winter 2007 collections will unfold. Of course, it will also be something of an edge for my magazine Sense&Style, though with all these last-minute preparations, H and I are really frantic about making sure we negotiate our way effectively through this forest of collections.
Today I spent mostly on the phone, also arranging trips to Boracay and El Nido, Palawan. I will fly to Boracay with a crew of 15 on Saturday, one day after I arrive from Hong Kong, whew! I'm very excited because this is really going to be a major production with four big ultra mega supermodels working with us. I realize how blessed I am with so many friends. Just as I was booking transfers from Caticlan to Boracay and from Boracay to Caticlan, a friend called to say a private boat will ferry us all right on the beachfront of our resorts in Station 1. The public ferries now all dock in the back as a new policy bars them from docking on the celebrated beachfront, but not me and my team.
Palawan I decided to ditch. I will send just one of my writers in my place. That is scheduled on the weekend after Boracay and I think I will really run out of breath if I jump on an airplane again after all these travel bonanza. Besides, I cannot be the only lucky one in our team. I need to distribute the blessings. I'd like my staff to see this job the way I see it, full of opportunities and always a door opening to brave new worlds, that is unless you are too lazy, too afraid, too crazy to walk past the doorway. Don't get me wrong. I've never monopolized the opportunities, even for travel, in my career, even as I was just getting started. My staff, in fact, get most of the opportunities now. All my writers are going to be with me in Boracay, too.
What a way, indeed, to get 2007 started! After all this hopping in and out of planes and boats and cars and all, it will soon be the Year of the Fire Pig. I claim it to be a good year, gentle as a pig, fat as a piggy bank, and with an appetite like that of a pig for the good things life has to offer.
Kung Hei Fat Choy!
Tuesday, January 9, 2007
WELCOME 2007
Is Christmas over?
Today, I just handed my valet the last of my Christmas gifts, though I had given him an earlier gift last Christmas. I just so appreciated that over the past week or so he has been making it a point to park my car safely and without blocking other cars so he could surrender the key to me before ending his shift at 7 p.m. His explanation was that he didn't want to share responsibility over my car with the nightshift valet. He wanted to be solely responsible for my car, so I had only him to blame in case anything went wrong or missing.
It's been a hectic week, though I've been very happy and so looking forward to the year ahead, which is nothing but promising from this vantage point. Also, it's been quite a hell of a time for reunions with my friend K in town from the Netherlands and my niece Rafa, now two months old, beginning to be more responsive to me.
Last Sunday I spent with old friends in K's ancestral house in Cabuyao, Laguna. Her brother A has really restored it with a twist, with a touch of a spa resort. The bathroom felt like El Nido, but a million times better because it was private.
Tonight, I am heading to Tagaytay, where I will camp for the night at the Discovery Country Suites in preparation for a fashion shoot tomorrow in an old, old house in the old, old town of Taal nearby.
In a week, I will be flying to Boracay with top supermodels Tweetie de Leon Gonzalez, Apples Aberin Sadhwani, Suyenne Chi, and Annette Coronel with a crew of 15 to shoot my cover story for my summer issue. A week later, El Nido here I come!
What a great way to get the year started!
If only I could live my life this way, one step at a time, like a car driving to a place a thousand miles away. Its driver can only see 20 feet or less ahead of him, yet he is confident that 2o feet at a time is all he needs to know that, soon, he will arrive.
Today, I just handed my valet the last of my Christmas gifts, though I had given him an earlier gift last Christmas. I just so appreciated that over the past week or so he has been making it a point to park my car safely and without blocking other cars so he could surrender the key to me before ending his shift at 7 p.m. His explanation was that he didn't want to share responsibility over my car with the nightshift valet. He wanted to be solely responsible for my car, so I had only him to blame in case anything went wrong or missing.
It's been a hectic week, though I've been very happy and so looking forward to the year ahead, which is nothing but promising from this vantage point. Also, it's been quite a hell of a time for reunions with my friend K in town from the Netherlands and my niece Rafa, now two months old, beginning to be more responsive to me.
Last Sunday I spent with old friends in K's ancestral house in Cabuyao, Laguna. Her brother A has really restored it with a twist, with a touch of a spa resort. The bathroom felt like El Nido, but a million times better because it was private.
Tonight, I am heading to Tagaytay, where I will camp for the night at the Discovery Country Suites in preparation for a fashion shoot tomorrow in an old, old house in the old, old town of Taal nearby.
In a week, I will be flying to Boracay with top supermodels Tweetie de Leon Gonzalez, Apples Aberin Sadhwani, Suyenne Chi, and Annette Coronel with a crew of 15 to shoot my cover story for my summer issue. A week later, El Nido here I come!
What a great way to get the year started!
If only I could live my life this way, one step at a time, like a car driving to a place a thousand miles away. Its driver can only see 20 feet or less ahead of him, yet he is confident that 2o feet at a time is all he needs to know that, soon, he will arrive.
Saturday, December 23, 2006
AND SO THIS IS CHRISTMAS
It's the day before Christmas.
God we are back here so quickly.
For many years, I usually spend the day before Christmas at Rustan's Alabang snapping up last-minute gifts. I used to like it because I get the sales attendants' full attention, who make it a point to wrap each and every one of my purchases, and shower me with freebies like sprigs of Eucalyptus, some tinsel, and others to jazz up my gifts.
This year, I am in no rush, though I will have to spend the afternoon to wrap the gifts for my family.
The tradition of gift-giving is new to me. There has always been an exchange of gifts at Christmas with my family, but I learned it as an art only fairly recently, in the early 90s, from my friend P, who did them in style, always putting great thoughts into every gift she gave away. Now based in Virginia, she sends me customized cards with pictures of her two lovely toddlers S and E in the snow.
Since learning the art from Pia, a lot of other people have come into the picture to help me master the art, such as my art director friend I and my florist friend R, the floral architect of the Philippines, who both taught me what is in the box is even more special when the box is wrapped in a special way. The wrapping is a showcase of your thoughtfulness.
Learning the art was both a blessing and a curse. A blessing because it always makes me happy and special to have given out something beautiful and a curse because it is such a hassle to find the right gift for each and every single person in my rapidly growing universe.
This year, I resolved to put more attention to the gifts I gave to the people who made my life work, often thanklessly: my valet at the office, the guard who takes care of my mail and packages, the guard who helps me load stuff in my car when it is time to go home, the IT people whom I bother tirelessly for my computer needs, the carpenters who created the modular office I wanted for my staff and repainted my room in the color my feng shui adviser recommended, etc. I wish I could give them more. I wish I could give them enough to make sure they have Noche Buena to remember tonight.
In the next week, when I go back to the office to wrap up work for the year, I'm going to have to give more gifts to more people. I didn't make a list, so now I feel so many more deserve a gift from me.
I have yet to give myself a gift, but I feel I am out of budget already. I've been thinking maybe I deserve a great gift this Christmas, perhaps an IWC. Well, maybe next Christmas.
In meantime, I will shower myself with gratitude: gratitude that I am in a position to put a smile on somebody's face, although I think, like me, we are all in the same position no matter what position we think we are in, if only we assume it.
Happy Christmas!
God we are back here so quickly.
For many years, I usually spend the day before Christmas at Rustan's Alabang snapping up last-minute gifts. I used to like it because I get the sales attendants' full attention, who make it a point to wrap each and every one of my purchases, and shower me with freebies like sprigs of Eucalyptus, some tinsel, and others to jazz up my gifts.
This year, I am in no rush, though I will have to spend the afternoon to wrap the gifts for my family.
The tradition of gift-giving is new to me. There has always been an exchange of gifts at Christmas with my family, but I learned it as an art only fairly recently, in the early 90s, from my friend P, who did them in style, always putting great thoughts into every gift she gave away. Now based in Virginia, she sends me customized cards with pictures of her two lovely toddlers S and E in the snow.
Since learning the art from Pia, a lot of other people have come into the picture to help me master the art, such as my art director friend I and my florist friend R, the floral architect of the Philippines, who both taught me what is in the box is even more special when the box is wrapped in a special way. The wrapping is a showcase of your thoughtfulness.
Learning the art was both a blessing and a curse. A blessing because it always makes me happy and special to have given out something beautiful and a curse because it is such a hassle to find the right gift for each and every single person in my rapidly growing universe.
This year, I resolved to put more attention to the gifts I gave to the people who made my life work, often thanklessly: my valet at the office, the guard who takes care of my mail and packages, the guard who helps me load stuff in my car when it is time to go home, the IT people whom I bother tirelessly for my computer needs, the carpenters who created the modular office I wanted for my staff and repainted my room in the color my feng shui adviser recommended, etc. I wish I could give them more. I wish I could give them enough to make sure they have Noche Buena to remember tonight.
In the next week, when I go back to the office to wrap up work for the year, I'm going to have to give more gifts to more people. I didn't make a list, so now I feel so many more deserve a gift from me.
I have yet to give myself a gift, but I feel I am out of budget already. I've been thinking maybe I deserve a great gift this Christmas, perhaps an IWC. Well, maybe next Christmas.
In meantime, I will shower myself with gratitude: gratitude that I am in a position to put a smile on somebody's face, although I think, like me, we are all in the same position no matter what position we think we are in, if only we assume it.
Happy Christmas!
Saturday, December 9, 2006
FAREWELL, REY NACUSPAD
Just woke up to a dreary, rainy day.
I spent last night trying to process my feelings toward my quirky editorial assistant and friend and defender R, at whose wake I came to visit.
I still can't believe I will never ever hear his hyaenic laughter and all his sexist, ageist, racist, rich-versus-poor, etc'ist comments about life again. A highly opinionated person, he was wont to introduce a theory into cocktail conversations that never failed to shock, scandalize people and then reduce them to guilty giggles. He knew world history like the back of his hand and, a master of sweeping generalizations, he would use it to make conversation pieces that the politically correct would at best find uncomfortable to digest. But that's what he loved. He loved challenging the self-righteous and the well-mannered, who often always ended up loving him. R is quirk personified and, without a doubt, that was his charm, although I have personally had quite a few battles with it, always hushing him, warning him, scolding him (and at once encouraging, pushing him) about embarrassing me in public.
As a co-worker, he was to me both a blessing and a curse (especially in the beginning). A free spirit, he was pretty much a drifter in the beginning, always late, always absent, always causing trouble, always sowing intrigues, and often sleeping on the job. God knows how many times I had to throw a book down his desk to jolt him out of his daydreams, how many times I had screamed at him, how many times I had to send him home. Once, mad that he was being useless, I made him feel useless for over a week, making sure he spent day after day with nothing to do and snatching away whatever it was was that he tried to do, whether it was to read the proofs or to use the phone.
Oh, but I revel in those memories, in retrospect, because, later on, he proved to be indispensable to my operation.
He gave me the loyalty I thought I did not require and he helped cement many of the relationships I forged with people with whom I needed to collaborate in my editorial efforts. Though he loved challenging me, we were a team, through thick and thin, and he loved me, as boss, as co-worker, as friend and understood me completely. With his penchant for exaggeration, he was the type who would make it appear that I was more important than I was, harrassing security guards, for instance, to save a slot for me because "Mr. P is arriving and Mr. P will not tolerate waiting," whoever Mr. P was, but somehow he could convey the message that Mr. P was one they should not mess with! How many times had I scolded him for making such a fuss (especially because he was doing it not so much for me but for his own perverse way of having fun), but inside I just had to hand it to him for orchestrating many a "grand entrance" for me!
Too young to die!
Too much of a life to succumb to death so quickly, so easily!
The past year has not been easy for R, when his health began to degenerate. Oh he suffered many things, including many a heartbreak, resulting from the dramatic turn of events at the workplace. I'd like to think he has recovered from the trauma, but the toll these heartbreaks took on his health!
Still and all, when I look back, R's last great mission was to put Humpty Dumpty together again. He paved the way for me to get back to what I now enjoy and to put my team together again. I know I did not fail to recognize what he had done for me, but I feel sorry that he cannot be here anymore to enjoy what the seeds he helped sow will bear as the future unfolds.
R passed away at ten in the evening of December 8 at the Philippine General Hospital, where he was confined for what proved to be negative for meningitis. I believe his heart failed him this time.
Goodbye, R! Farewell!
I would warn you not to scandalize the angels too much and not to risk the wrath of God with your hyaenic laugther that is sure to shatter the serenity of heaven, but I don't want to deprive them of the infinite pleasures I and the rest of our friends had drawn from your presence here on earth!
A
I spent last night trying to process my feelings toward my quirky editorial assistant and friend and defender R, at whose wake I came to visit.
I still can't believe I will never ever hear his hyaenic laughter and all his sexist, ageist, racist, rich-versus-poor, etc'ist comments about life again. A highly opinionated person, he was wont to introduce a theory into cocktail conversations that never failed to shock, scandalize people and then reduce them to guilty giggles. He knew world history like the back of his hand and, a master of sweeping generalizations, he would use it to make conversation pieces that the politically correct would at best find uncomfortable to digest. But that's what he loved. He loved challenging the self-righteous and the well-mannered, who often always ended up loving him. R is quirk personified and, without a doubt, that was his charm, although I have personally had quite a few battles with it, always hushing him, warning him, scolding him (and at once encouraging, pushing him) about embarrassing me in public.
As a co-worker, he was to me both a blessing and a curse (especially in the beginning). A free spirit, he was pretty much a drifter in the beginning, always late, always absent, always causing trouble, always sowing intrigues, and often sleeping on the job. God knows how many times I had to throw a book down his desk to jolt him out of his daydreams, how many times I had screamed at him, how many times I had to send him home. Once, mad that he was being useless, I made him feel useless for over a week, making sure he spent day after day with nothing to do and snatching away whatever it was was that he tried to do, whether it was to read the proofs or to use the phone.
Oh, but I revel in those memories, in retrospect, because, later on, he proved to be indispensable to my operation.
He gave me the loyalty I thought I did not require and he helped cement many of the relationships I forged with people with whom I needed to collaborate in my editorial efforts. Though he loved challenging me, we were a team, through thick and thin, and he loved me, as boss, as co-worker, as friend and understood me completely. With his penchant for exaggeration, he was the type who would make it appear that I was more important than I was, harrassing security guards, for instance, to save a slot for me because "Mr. P is arriving and Mr. P will not tolerate waiting," whoever Mr. P was, but somehow he could convey the message that Mr. P was one they should not mess with! How many times had I scolded him for making such a fuss (especially because he was doing it not so much for me but for his own perverse way of having fun), but inside I just had to hand it to him for orchestrating many a "grand entrance" for me!
Too young to die!
Too much of a life to succumb to death so quickly, so easily!
The past year has not been easy for R, when his health began to degenerate. Oh he suffered many things, including many a heartbreak, resulting from the dramatic turn of events at the workplace. I'd like to think he has recovered from the trauma, but the toll these heartbreaks took on his health!
Still and all, when I look back, R's last great mission was to put Humpty Dumpty together again. He paved the way for me to get back to what I now enjoy and to put my team together again. I know I did not fail to recognize what he had done for me, but I feel sorry that he cannot be here anymore to enjoy what the seeds he helped sow will bear as the future unfolds.
R passed away at ten in the evening of December 8 at the Philippine General Hospital, where he was confined for what proved to be negative for meningitis. I believe his heart failed him this time.
Goodbye, R! Farewell!
I would warn you not to scandalize the angels too much and not to risk the wrath of God with your hyaenic laugther that is sure to shatter the serenity of heaven, but I don't want to deprive them of the infinite pleasures I and the rest of our friends had drawn from your presence here on earth!
A
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