Last Christmas, I went to (nearly) all Advent Masses because P said that his CLE (Christian Living Education) teacher advised that they should go to Mass during all Sundays of Advent. In an attempt to be supportive, I went with him, took K so that S would have no choice but to join us as well. It worked.
More than that, we did the Jesse Tree over December, I never felt “back in the fold” as I did then.
I had just recently sent out our family 09 newsletter. My sister said that aside from recapping the previous year, I should actually add our goals this year! (Talk about corporate!) I gave it a thought and I kinda figured out my own goals.
During this entire Ondoy and Pepeng experiences, there was one prominent word that I felt — guilt. However, it was something I couldn’t (and still can’t!) process.
I felt guilty that the people in so many places lost their homes. I felt guilty I couldn’t give more (there’s a point when you just have to give and it hurts — been there several times). I felt guilty I was thinking of business while people are sardined in evacuation centers. I felt guilty that I couldn’t join my friends in our breastfeeding missions. I felt guilty that I was still living my life normally (save for our basement, lol!) while so many people stopped their lives (for weeks!) to help out.
After walking what felt like hours in this place, I know now why it’s called the Forbidden City. It was so huge, it forbids people to from wanting to walk to see the emperor. LOL!
I actually forgot to put sunscreen on the neck so I had a huge ring around my chest, where my shirt’s collar was. Hahaha!
I am Filipino by birth and Chinese by heritage. When a Singaporean friend ask me several years back what I would say if someone asked me if I were Chinese or Filipino, what would I say? I automatically said, “Filipino”. She said that she would, in the same vein, say “Singaporean”. (She’s Chinese by heritage as well.)
On the one hand, we, who are “not exactly” Pinoy and “not exactly” Chinese, have been blessed to have both worlds. On the other hand, it is also difficult because I have personally experienced being called “different” by other Pinoys.
Thanks to one of our Ninangs at our wedding, I cooked Hainanese Chicken.
And since I put it on Facebook, a lot of people have asked for the recipe. That’s actually a first, really, because, as a lot of those people know, I.don’t.cook. Yep, that’s because my mom is a great cook…didn’t feel the need to learn anymore. (Until our cook left. Long story.)
Anyways, going back to the recipe–let me just say that it was easy peasy. Honest. (Wonder if it’s those “survival” instincts kicking in, considering again, I.don’t.cook…but.now.I.need.to.)
Orkut Myspace Namaste Comments & Graphics
The first time I heard this word was at the yoga class I attended at my friend Tris’ house years ago. He had just gotten back from studying and teaching bikram yoga in — I can’t even remember where — and was plnning his studios. And he had to continue teaching in order to become better at it. So he held classes at his house to be able to continue teaching while the studio in Makati was being built.