Everything Under The Tropical Sun

Maybe not all bloggers would care to admit it but blog hits and comments are one of the things that inspires us to spur on. I love the stats for the immediate feedback. The other day when I upgraded my wordpress, I had to disable my plugins (including the blog stats) and what do you know… when I re-activated it, all my information was gone.

Well, no big deal really. It’s just irritating. And maybe I really should take this blog’s look seriously. I’ve been scouting for a look that would harmoniously integrate both the photoblog and the blog itself. But my husband likes it this way. He just complains that it’s too “clean”… I agree. It is too neat. My obsessive compulsive personality just shone through.

So one of my New Year’s resolutions is to finally settle on a blog look that reflects my eclectic personality… not just my obsessive compulsive one. Hehehehehe. I’m looking at a 3-column blog… because widgets are fun!

So THANK YOU wordpress for taking away my stats. Made me spur action towards changing the look of this blog and for taking it more seriously from now on. (But I haven’t forgiven you yet. so there. :p )

I had a very interesting chat with one of my best friends, Neptune last week… She said that her mom’s coming home to visit next year and that she’d talk to her husband about her going too. I didn’t really want to hope too much because it’s been over a decade since we last hung out with each other and I really miss her.

We weren’t always close. When we first met, we didn’t really hit it off right away. It wasn’t until that fateful summer of 1993 when practically everyone we knew left town to spend the summer in some fantastic place having the adventures of their lifetime. While Neptune and I stayed on in good ‘ol predictable Cebu. I didn’t have Neptune all to myself though, she joined a jungolf program at the local country club and as bored as I was, I took up tennis (*sigh… I miss my figure way back when) at the same country club.

We saw each other after her her first 9 holes of golf and after my tennis lessons. That was our daytime routine that summer. What did we do you ask? We just talked… and talked… and talked. She’s such a clever and witty woman even back then when we both didn’t know any better. She’s funny and there were no boring moments. EVER. Come to think of it, I can’t really remember how we were able to entertain ourselves that summer but somehow we did because to this day, I still remember that it was one of the best summers of my life.

We’d go out at night… go to this popular (and the only) dance club in Cebu. We really weren’t drinkers at the time but we loooved to dance! It didn’t matter if it was just the two of us. We danced our asses off. But we mainly kept coming back because of this guy (Nep’s crush) who was a really good dancer.

We had all kinds of stupid antics that summer too. In the usual teenage fashion, we met with random guys… prank called most of them. But didn’t really do anything drastic… mild stuff. Hee hee! Those were the days.

That summer came and went but what Nep and I took with us is a friendship that has lasted through the miles. School started, Ann came back and we were a trio again. We graduated high school, went to our separate universities. All the while, we kept in touch as often as we could (except for Ann and I – we went wild in Manila) and Neptune left. I think it was in the middle of our 2nd year in college when they (with her family) left for the States.

We haven’t seen her since. That was almost a decade ago, I think. But the great news is, I was chatting with her the other night and she’s coming home!!! Finally! She’s bringing her kid with her and I could hardly contain my excitement. She’s coming home summer of next year.

Another summer… we’re all so different now yet still the same in so many ways. Finally, another memorable summer I could add to my list. It’s been a while.

I’ve been trying to find a way to get my husband to enroll in yoga classes with me. This is because I found it very difficult to go to the gym or work out without him as my exercise buddy.

About 3 years ago, I made a feeble attempt to convince my husband to enroll in yoga classes with me. A slew of excuses came flooding in: 1. He’s too busy; 2. The classes were too early (6am); 3. He thinks yoga will just make him fart everywhere (because of the poses); AND HIS BIGGEST CONCERN: 4. It’s a sissy exercise program and definitely not for him.

It was so frustrating to get him to go. I knew that working out in a gym with treadmills, weights, and that whole enchilada wasn’t for me. I found it too taxing for my body that I’d find myself feeling spent by the time my day started. Since I knew I can’t make going to the gym my lifestyle. I knew I had to find another “workout” that could be part of my life.

Yoga is it. It’s the perfect workout that fits my lifestyle and personality. It was something I could see myself doing ’til I’m 80… or maybe some form of it. But the thing is, I let the fact that I don’t have a buddy to go with affect me. I know I shouldn’t but I love sharing things with my husband and since this is a lifestyle type of thing, I was hoping he’d join me.

Here we are three years later and what do you know? A man I admire and adore, someone I’ve never even met was instrumental to convincing my husband that yoga is THE exercise. It was none other than Bear Grylls. We saw his Sahara Desert episode wherein he performed yoga. I forgot why he did, I think it’s because he had to refrain from over heating. But that was the clincher.

I looked over at my husband and saw him nodding in agreement when I said: “See? Even Bear Grylls does yoga! It’s not a sissy exercise!” He was convinced. I couldn’t ask for a better spokesperson. But in his feeble attempt to seem like his first impression was valid, he couldn’t help himself and said: “That’s easy!”

I took out my yoga book, turned the page to where the pose Bear Grylls just did and asked him to try it. He did and admitted it was difficult. He finally came to his senses. Yoga is NOT a sissy practice.

Now, it’s just a matter of finding the right place to go to. I found one that’s near our house and we’re going to go and check it out before the month’s out. YEY!!! One giant leap towards Yoga!

It was my Mommy’s birthday last Friday. And in true Mommy fashion, we all went home with a full belly. Delicious Chinese cuisine at A Taste of Mandarin.

One thing I always dreaded was whenever anyone asked how old she was, it was pure sacrilege to tell the truth. I remember that she was 40 years old for a whole decade. Then came 42 and 45. It stopped there. So whenever her age came up, I’d simply say: “I love my Mom. I’m not at liberty to divulge any kind of classified information pertaining to her age and year of birth. I’ve signed confidentiality papers and will be held liable at the mere mention of her real age.”

It usually cracks them up but if they knew my Mom pretty well, they knew to leave the topic well alone… because it wouldn’t be far from a third world war if ever I did open my big mouth.

She’s always been a character. Someone who livens up any situation. Her tact is questionable at best but her charm lets her get away with A LOT of things. When I say A LOT… I mean A LOT. Sure, people take offense, but never the type that would get anyone deeply hurt or enormously angry at her. But when she gets angry, BOY… she could say the most hurtful things without thinking.

So, no one in their right mind would ever want to cross her. Especially about her age. She literally gets into a fit whenever someone slips up. I remember a good 3 years when I was literally FORCED to call her by her first name. She didn’t want to let her clients know that she had a daughter as old as me. It was so hard to de-program myself. After 25 years of calling her Mommy… and to think we were punished for doing that when we were younger.

Which was why it was so odd for me to actually hear her announce that she turned 60 years old. She still lied though. She wasn’t 60… she’s actually a year younger. Chinese custom forbids celebrating ages that end in 9. Like 29, 39, etc. It was unlucky they’d say (by the way, we’re not Chinese)… so they would usually skip a year forward. That’s beside the point: She actually declared her age… in public! Kudos, Mom!

Maybe it’s because we don’t live under the same roof anymore but my Mom kinda changed. She seems to be the new and improved version. She doesn’t hate too many people anymore. Actually believes in the Catholic faith (but still bashes the priests, archbishops, etc.) even more nowadays. I really hope that it’s real and she’s not going to regress anymore.

Or maybe it’s just me? Maybe the way I handle myself around her is so much more different now? I don’t really care what it is. We have a beautiful relationship now… I don’t feel so suppressed and oppressed anymore. She seems more content with her life now. I guess it’s true what they say: Life begins at 60. Keep it up, Mom! I love you and Happy Birthday!

One of the things I love about my husband is that he makes me laugh. Usually it’s at his witty remarks… the “why didn’t I think of that?” type of humor. And there are those times that could be marked as a “classic” moment from him. This is one of them.

He told me last Saturday that he was so irritated because he kept seeing the sign: “Ped Xing” at every traffic light. Each time he passed one, he’d keep wondering what it was. When finally he couldn’t help himself and had to ask our partner what it meant.

Without letting him finish, I uttered in my miss-know-it-all tone: “Pedestrian Crossing.” and started laughing really hard. “You’ve been driving for almost half of your life and you didn’t know what that meant?!” And kept laughing some more.

He really didn’t find it as funny as I did, though. He was irritated. It was a simple sign to get and he hated that he wasn’t able to analyze it properly. One of the things he hates is the feeling that he didn’t grasp a simple joke, or a simple riddle. He’s not stupid, but he hates feeling like one.

Towards the end of that conversation, he said that he will conduct a survey… he will check how many people know what Ped Xing really meant. I knew he was only out to prove that he’s not the only one who didn’t get it. Lucky for him, when he asked my brother, he didn’t know what Ped Xing stood for either. But the difference is, my brother didn’t care whether he got it or not. Goes to show….

Well, hubby my love, here’s something I want to share. Once upon a time, during the PRE-Ped Xing knowledge… that sign plagued my very existence. I didn’t know what it meant either until I saw this:

Photo Source*

So you see, I was just lucky enough to have seen a directional signage with a picture… and I didn’t even get it right away. So, it’s okay, Love… you’re not stupid. Ha ha ha!