The steak

Yesterday, I prepared the steak which I promised to serve to my friends later at the beach. Of course, with the help of the recipe guide which my sister e-mailed to me. 

I served some of it over dinner last night so Mom and my brother could try it. Lo and behold, the taste of which is what it’s supposed to taste like! Although a bit salty, Mom said, but at least…. right?

Here’s a picture of the prepared steak ready for grilling.  

This steak brings so many memories of family dinners. Dad would remind us to save the night because we were going to have a “special” dinner. These dinners usually happen at least once every two months, whether there was a special occasion or not. Come late afternoon, as the sun started to set, Dad or Papa Tony would already be grilling the meat which Mama Jeany prepared the day before.

I’d stop whatever it is I was doing to go outside and sniff. So fragrant it was because of the aroma brought by the fusion of herbs and spices, a little splash of beer as it grills… those scents immediately make me want to turn back time. 

Dad would usually set aside a very rare cooked piece which he knows I love.  After dinner, we’d be so full and satisfied as we share insights about life, politics, religion and stories about ourselves, friends or relatives.

The reason I felt so eager about serving the steak to my friends is because this was the centrepiece of our family bondings. And maybe the reason why I think it’s so good is because I got to eat it with family. As they say, even the simplest meals could become the most filling and satisfying ones especially if you have it with loved ones.

Thank you Mama Jeany and Dad for always making sure that we had these special dinners. It was so good. And the food was really delicious. 

Small steps

Early in the morning, waiting in my cellphone inbox was a message from a friend that read, “I love you, ha!”.

I read this as soon as I got up from bed to check my messages. That text brought a smile in my face and served as reminder that people like my friend still exist.

This friend of mine just wanted to remind me, platonically, that she loves me. And that’s it. That’s just what she needs me to feel. That she loves me. Knowing her, she probably thought, “I need to remind my friend that I love him.”

In this fast-paced, cynical, sarcastic world we live in, saying ‘I love you’ unexpectedly, just like what my friend did, can melt the icebergs wrapped around the coldest of hearts.

Years ago, I must admit, that majestic sunsets can make me sniffle and my niece’s cute socks can make me cry (and I don’t know why). But after some crappy quarter-life experiences, it’s hard to feel any poignant sentiment towards anything lately. I even took down my social networking accounts, for crying out loud, because I was too “annoyed” and fed up with everyone’s heart’s outpouring, dismissing them as irrelevant (see previous blog entry “Hi Friend”). This just showed how cynical and indifferent I got.

Until that text.

That text slightly opened my heart again and got me thinking about ‘last times’.

When was the last time I really enjoyed a sunset? Or a sunrise?

When was the last time I hugged a friend who needed it?

When was the last time I enjoyed a dessert or a carb-rich dish without obsessing how many push-ups it would require me to burn it afterwards?

When did was the last time I listened to a friend’s story without making judgments even before he or she finishes telling it?

When did saying ‘I love you’ start being so hard and gauche, or even unreservedly callow?

And when did it start being OK to use the thesaurus?

Oh, I’m sorry about that last one.

But seriously, all these musings alarmed me about how far I’ve driven myself in the negative spectrum just to feel safe.   

When did I become so in a hurry?

When did I stopped enjoying myself?

When did I become so guarded?

When did I stop letting people in?

After a short while, I replied to my friend, “I love you, too” and got ready to start another day at work, hopeful that I’d be able to put the answers to those hard questions in action. One step at a time.

Looking forward

Last night was the first night I got to go out ever since I took down my Twitter and FB. I've had the opportunity to ask "What you've been up to?" as I really have no idea what everybody's been thinking or feeling lately.

During dinner at our favorite hangout (the name of which I'd rather keep anonymous, but it pretty much rhymes with my nickname as everyone would use to call me at the streets and not the two-syllable nick), we talked about how friendships change and how relationships should be nourished through quality time with each other. We figured, if you fail to really spend time, the friendship would evolve and you'd eventually grow apart. Your childhood friend will ever be a childhood friend, and your college buddy is someone you can't be buddies with anymore.

At least that's how I remember the conversation went. I was too busy downing the beef shawarma and beer. So much for being attentive. Hahaha  <-- I swear if you have to put hahaha in a paragraph, it's not good writing.

This prompted us to make sure our beach plans on Friday would materialize. The others had already asked permission from their mothers and I think everyone's good to go. One of us was tasked to find the place we would be staying at overnight, one is in-charge of driving, while I volunteered to prepare a steak dinner.

I suddenly remembered that I took pictures of how our family steak was prepared. Mama Jeany had shown me how to do it a year ago and I used my cell phone camera to document it. Without the pictures, I don't remember how it's made. I just remember its flavorful, juicy, nostalgic taste.

That's the thing with learning by example. When you demonstrate something (especially to someone like me who has the attention span of a six-year-old), chances of it being recalled isn't as big as when you let the student do it by himself. I think it's called experiential learning, or lazy grade school teacher.

I've really got to check my cell phone's memory card for it. And when I do, I should post the pictures of it here.

I'm excited about our beach trip. It's always nice when you have something to look forward to.

Lament

I’ve got to be honest. I’m very sad about my decision of leaving social networking. There is no handbook that can tell me how to get through this ‘experiment’ of mine. I just know I’ve got to stand by my decision otherwise I’m just going to be the boy who cried wolf. People are going to think this is just a stint to get attention.

I think this is my way of proving something to myself after letting myself down many many times. This is a battle that I’ve got to fight on my own. Just me and me.

There comes a time in a man’s life that he’s got to go it alone. And with all the communication that’s available in the medium, you still got everyone else.

My brother said, when I announced that I’m leaving social networking sites, that I was “turning into Dad.” He’s pretty much ‘the introvert’ and he tends to shut down people from his life. I wondered if I’m heading the same track. I also wondered about the motivation for my decision.

I just know this is right. This is what I know is right. Even if it’s so scary sometimes.Overwhelming. Last night, I actually dreamt of a flood. If you look up flood for dream interpretation, it means that you are nursing emotions that you can’t handle. This is one of those emotions.

 I feel I lost people. And I’m going to lose more in the process in this semi-solitary confinement.

They say, no man is an island. But maybe I just have to be an island for a while. I’ve got to let the tears flow. There’s so many times I’ve escaped and now there’s no more hiding.

I’m still grieving for my dad’s loss. I’m typing this and I’m crying my eyes out. It’s been two years but I feel I still can’t say goodbye. I still see him everywhere. I feel him within, in every decision I make. In every unspoken word. In every bridge burned. In the stillness and in the noise. Is he proud of the person I am now? Does he approve of my decisions?

I’m still grieving for my Mama Jeany’s loss. I’ve only got to visit her twice when she got cancer and I feel I had been so selfish for not giving her time. For not wanting to talk about what she’s going through when her body started to grow weak because I didn’t want to share the pain she’s feeling. I was too busy living in my own tralalala wonderland that I failed to reach out.

And now it’s too late. I’m never going to ask the questions I wanted to ask. I’m never going to hear the stories that they needed to tell. I feel I’ve only got to listen to half of their stories, and only got to know them halfway because I was so afraid to hold onto people who are going to say goodbye anyway.

A few weeks back I visited her husband, Papa Tony, and he talked about my Dad and Mama Jeany, because they were all best of friends. I listened to their lives when they were younger. It was so sad to hear these stories because Dad and Mama Jeany are no longer around. I can sense Papa Tony’s sense of loss and despair and I didn’t know what to do with it. Every happy memory he shared sent tears to my eyes which I tried to hold back otherwise there'd be two grown men sobbing that night.

I don’t know why I’m blabbing about these things. For Christ’s sake, I only took down my social media accounts.

Maybe, this is the real life that's waiting for me. Just me and my four walls. No audience. Just me and my words. And my words speak a tremendous loss which I’m still recovering from…

Is anyone listening?

Hi friend.

Two days ago, I came to an epiphany that my Facebook and Twitter accounts are causing me more stress than pleasure in keeping them. This was triggered by certain events that led me to burn bridges with friends because of those social media rather than nurture connections through it.

 I miss the feeling of wondering what my friends and family are up to. I miss the feeling of missing someone because honestly, I feel I am with the person I'm following in Twitter, 24/7, especially if this person tweets every action they do or every little senseless thought that crosses their minds...those I'm not really interested in. But since I'm following them, I feel I am oblidged or pushed to absorb everything. This led me to grow tired of those social media.

In Twitter and in Facebook, everything is rolled out: every picture, thought, update, opinion or location is shared that there is no room for "wonder". It's like receiving postcards even if the person is not on holiday or the person is really not close to you. It also feels like I am in a middle of a park where every friend has a podium, and they're all speaking at the same time.

Everyone is just blabbing, sometimes, like a crazy person because they're the only ones who can understand their thoughts or "what's in their minds". The reason why we listen is because we are interested. But when someone talks and talks, just like when someone carelessly posts, I feel don't need to care or pay attention. Beyond that, when the messages they send causes me stress (like insulting posts, rude comments), I'd think, "I don't f*cking need this."

So, thank you for about four wonderful years for following me in Twitter and befriending me in Facebook, together with all online activity that comes with it, like liking, commenting, favoriting, mentioning, etc. I feel nostalgic when I think about the good old days of the internet when everyone was so nice and unassuming. But those days are long gone...probably by the time when everyone ridiculed a beautiful thirteen year old for singing a song called "Friday", and when everyone became "keyboard samurais" as my friend said in describing people who are very brave and cocky in the internet but are in fact losers in real life.

I will get to catch up with you in a more interpersonal way, through text, call or even through a cup of coffee or buckets of cold beer. We would have so much to talk about because you didn't know about my recent hiking adventure through Facebook and my ah-huh moments in Twitter. I'd have so much to ask you because I didn't know your baby kicked for the first time and that while in the elevator you suddenly remembered your ex.

I will no long follow, or lurk in Facebook land, peering over other peoples' lives. No longer would I be obliged to absorb messages that are not really for me.

If you want me to know what you're up to or what you're feeling, find a way to reach me and not share it to the rest of your friends list. And I'd do the same. I'd let YOU know. That's why I only share this blog address to those who I believe would be genuinely interested. Rest assured, my posts here are those that I really want to share with you, from my heart and my sober mind.

I am taking this personal revolution because I want to discover myself and the people in my life again, not in front of the computer screen, but through more sincere, personal means.

I feel much better already by saying these out loud. I hope to see you soon.

Singapore, Here I Come!

It was one of those days when you're not looking forward to anything, and your home town is as mundane as another episode of Glee (which I believe most people would disagree with, but I don't care. I just find it so boring. All the tralalala singing and the witty one liners has lost its novelty).

During the usual Sunday breakfast with mom and my brother, I blurted out. "A friend of mine is going to Singapore."

"Really? That's nice." Mom said, as she put another cup of rice on her plate. Sunday is her cheat day.

"I think I'm going to join him."

After saying it out loud, I never really thought of going. I suddenly felt nervous and excited. Maybe this was the novelty I'm looking for. I've been whining about how boring my life is yet I never really did something about it.

An hour and a half later, mom gave me my passport which I've never used. She had kept it in her "vault" where she kept all documents filed under "I don't think this would be used."

I blew away the cobwebs and dust on my passport and readied my worn out credit card to book my flight based from my friend's itinerary. Later that day, I had a reserved round trip flight to Singapore.

Before taking my lazy pig Sunday nap, I daydreamed of meeting new people in Singapore, running in the morning, touring in the day and drinking sessions in the evening. Can't wait.

Good Friday 2012

I just realized that this blog resurrects around the Holy Week. Just like old friends who suddenly show up after being unavailable all throughout the year. I'm talking about me.

I finally got to meet up with my old buddy Ian. After going to 9 churches (Bisita Iglesia) last night and having a late snack at Beanery 2 with family, he went around the house for an hour of talk and beers. It was already 1 am by then.

I also realized then that there was so many things we needed to talk about- jobs, his wife, how his marriage was going and so on. However at that moment, I guess we were comfortable not knowing and just hung out like old times. Vincent and Joseph were also there and we ended up watching some UFC videos much to my quiet disdain.

But it was all good, though a thought occured to me. How many more stuff would we leave unsaid until we realize there is nothing more to talk about? Would the witty banters and small talk be enough?

I also realized then that maybe I was not being emotionally available by not feeling the need to catch up.

Maybe it's because we haven't hung out for so long that there was this inevitable gap between us that can only be bridged by time. Time together and not time apart. Friendships are involuntary, I've heard somewhere. It shouldn't be forced, as it will be rekindled eventually.

I guess that's the price we pay when we don't nurture our friendships with quality time. We suddenly feel a bit disconnected.

Last night may not be quality time for me and Ian but it's a start. Especially when I said, "Let's have another round of beer, shall we?"

I can finally sleep!!!

I'm writing this on an early evening after doing some weights and a hip hop abs session on DVD. That's how "unbusy" I am, and will be, this coming days.

The past few months have been a blur of late nights, late mornings and many stressful hours. I remember whining about this to my friends. When they ask me, "How've you been?", I'd go, "Really, really busy......"

So earlier today, as I stepped out of the building where I work, as everybody lined up to log out in the bondiclock, I didn't bother to say goodbye to colleagues whom I won't be seeing for 5 days. We only had to go to work for half of the day so I had the whole afternoon to sleep.

It was a hot afternoon and the sun glared through my curtains. Our househelp was doing laundry outside and I can hear her small radio playing softly. I fell into my bed, happy and tired. I finally can sleeeeeeep.