Shameless plug :)

HIPP’s April issue is now out on newsstands!

Do check out my articles on Indian cuisine (“Indian Summer”, p94) and Sagada (“Sojourn to Sagada”, p98).

Thanks!

The best things in life are not fat free

Some people are semi-sweet; others are just plain nutty.
Don’t cry over spilled milk – unless, of course, it’s chocolate milk.
There is a fine line between vice and addiction.
Blind dates are like chocolate – they’re usually chunky and they quickly disappear.
When life presents you a rocky road, just eat your way out of it.
Money can’t buy you love – but it can buy you chocolate – 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, 365 days a year.
Keep your fingers off other people’s bonbons.
Mothers-in-law are like chocolate syrup; a little goes a long way.
Flowers and champagne may set the stage, but it’s chocolate that steals the show.
An ounce of truffles is worth a pound of anything.
Milk chocolate .. for all it’s worth.
You never really know a person til you’ve shared a box of chocolates with them.
A kiss is just a kiss, but a chocolate kiss is bliss.
True love will remain long after the chocolates have gone … provided there’s another box.
The best things in life are not fat free.
Nothing is worth getting sick over except, of course, chocolate.
When all else fails, fudge it!
And remember, if life is like a box of chocolates, take a bite out of everything.

finally, a logical explanation

You know those dreams that seem like sort of out-of-body experiences? You’re body’s asleep but for some reason, your brain’s very much alive and you actually “see” your asleep self but you can’t (for the life of you) move. Sometimes, I had dreams like these and I actually saw ghost-like characters hovering above me, pushing me down upon my bed really hard that it bordered on suffocating. Most of the time, it happens to me every time I sleep flat on my back or if I sleep a little after I’ve eaten which I used to do quite a lot a couple years ago.

These dreams are friggin terrifying. As in I swear, the times I had frequent dreams of the same kind, I dreaded falling asleep. I actually became an insomniac of sorts. Sleeping if, and only if, I was tired beyond belief. It was terrible. The worst of the dreams involved seeing the silhouette of my late (and scary) great grandmother by the window of my room and then feeling my bed shake violently right after. Dreadful. Scary.

Anyway, the point of this entry is that, finally, I have found a logical explanation for it. (Thanks to Cel’s latest entry!)

Sleep paralysis occurs during REM sleep, thus preventing the body from manifesting movements made in the subject’s dreams. Very little is known about the physiology of sleep paralysis. However, some have suggested that it may be linked to post-synaptic inhibition of motor neurons in the pons region of the brain. In particular, low levels of melatonin may stop the depolarization current in the nerves, which prevents the stimulation of the muscles, to prevent the body from enacting the dream activity (e.g. preventing a sleeper from flailing his legs when dreaming about running).

Symptoms of sleep paralysis can be either one of the following or a combination:

Paralysis: this occurs after waking up or shortly before falling asleep. The person cannot move any body part, and only has minimal control over blinking, breathing, and very rarely, movement of the jaw. This paralysis is the same paralysis that occurs when dreaming. The brain paralyzes the muscles to prevent possible injury during dreams, as some body parts may move during dreaming. If the person wakes up suddenly, the brain may still think that it is dreaming, and sustains the paralysis.

Hallucinations: Images or speaking that appear during the paralysis. The person may think that someone is standing beside them or they may hear strange sounds. These may be dreamlike, possibly causing the person to think that they are still dreaming. Often it is reported as feeling a weight on one’s chest, as if being underneath a person or heavy object.

These symptoms can last from mere seconds to several minutes (although they can feel like much longer) and can be frightening to the person. There may be some body movement, but it is very unlikely and hard for a person to accomplish.

The Nightmare, by Henry Fuseli (1781) is thought to be one of the classic depictions of sleep paralysis perceived as a demonic visitation.

the morning paper

This is really disturbing.

I happened to browse thru the Inquirer today and when I saw that the main story was about the so-called “Davao Death Squad,” I couldn’t help but read about the dreary news. Ever since I waved PR goodbye, I’ve been outdated about the events happening in the country because, well, let’s face it…the news can be depressing. Seriously, why is it that we always have to read about the latest killings, the latest bombings, the latest hostile takeovers? It doesn’t help that you already have problems of your own to deal with but now you have to read about other people’s problems too?

Is this “misery loves company” in the works? Or do you derive a little satisfaction from the fact that some people’s lives are more screwed up than yours? Schadenfreude, is that it?

Hay wala lang. I guess it’s disturbing reading about something this terrible and it hits close to home. I’m spending Holy Week in Davao and while I’m looking forward to being with my family, it kinda dampened my trip a bit. I hope the so-called Davao Death Squad is urban legend. I don’t think I like the idea of (alleged) government assassins having this list of people (even minors!) targeted for assassination. Even if they hold criminal records, it’s just wrong. Talk about violating human rights. I don’t think killing criminals point blank will help us achieve “peace” in any way. Yeah, there may be less crimes out there but isn’t killing a crime too? Even if it’s to kill for the sake of “maintaining the peace.” How can you even call it “peace” when the means you used to achieve it was murder? Doesn’t that make you a criminal too? There’s just no other way of looking at it. Murder is murder.

I should go back to editing—at least the stories I’ll be reading won’t be depressing. Hay naku. I’m developing a headache.

And just to be clear, this isn’t me naman choosing to be blind to what’s happening. Or that I don’t care. I just don’t want to put any more energy into events like these because it’s really draining. And I think the more energy we put into it, the more it’ll get worse because—well you know how powerful our thoughts can be…hay basta it just doesn’t do us any good. Best to look at the brighter side of life, don’t you think? If we channel our efforts and energies into the good, then that will start translating to good acts too. Then there’d be less news of political killings or whatever dreadful phenomenon there is out there. GAAAAD.

But I do hope this event sees justice. Something this big just cannot be ignored anymore.

Oh well, back to work.

Rapunzel (haba ng hair) moment

This comment from my managing editor’s friend made my day:

Hey Em, finlly got to read the 1st issue. Great! thought its all just parenting topics. Like the article on YOUR BOSS The BULLY. Haha, “…expected MENTOR turning out to be like a DEMENTOR in a Harry Potter book!” – Haha. Congrats! And you look and sound happy now…ur right to leave the previous one, eh? =)

That was my article! Whee! Glad somebody liked it! Heehee! I feel so proud. LOL

Weird dream

Actually it bordered on sick. As in I swear sometimes my subconscious amazes me.

The dream went like this. It felt a bit real because in the dream, I had cough which I currently do in real life. So there I was, down with the cough, hanging out with my family–Mina and my dad in particular–and I was complaining about how I’m having trouble breathing. And then somebody walks in and tells me that in order for my cough to subside, I had to drink this really sick concoction involving chopped liver and (gaaaah) my own friggin BLOOD. And if that isn’t gross and sick enough, my family and I used a whole swimming pool to mix the sick mixture in. ACK.

Basta it involved a lot of me aghast and thinking about this being for real or not, and me thinking incredulously about how my family could actually go with this and there was really a point wherein I was so frustrated I wanted to cry because I really did not want to drink the vile thing! And just when I was about to get a glassful of chlorine-blood-liver shake from the pool (seriously kadiri diba!), I realized that No I don’t have to because I could make a CHOICE.

The dream ended with that. I told myself, hello, magRoRobitussin nalang ako noh! And then that was it. End of discussion. Hahaha nobody was actually forcing me to take it!

And then I woke up thinking about what the hell was going on inside my head for my subconscious to conjure that dream up. Seriously! What could that dream possibly mean?

reunion of sorts

Zeph and I went up to Antipolo last Saturday night for the third intensive of Marlon’s leap team. It was really weird being there as a visitor–the only times I went up Antipolo was when I was coaching. Hehe still, it was nice seeing everyone again. I’m glad Bea and Trish are done coaching, we can hang out more often again. hehe

So I had a really good Friday. I had a shoot the entire day and it was for our teens and moms fashion. We got Angel Jacob to model for us and I swear, I think I have a girl crush. She just looked really good–I loved her tan and I swear, she’ll inspire anyone to hit the gym stat. I don’t think she even has an ounce of body fat. Kainggit! hehehe

I’m currently nursing a cough but the moment I feel well enough, I’m hitting the gym again. I think it’s about time I get my ass into shape–I did it once before, I got to as low as 110lbs and I swear I’m going to do it again. So yeah, if it means (ugh) eating only greens and fruits in the meantime, then I’ll do it. Sigh. I do hope this time around I’ll walk the talk.

On a totally unrelated note, I just finished editing the article of our Expat Mom columnist and she was talking about how couples “cling” to the story of how they met. Which is sort of validated by peers because they always ask couples how they met, and not how they are doing now. The story of how they met somehow still adds “magic” to the relationship because it was how everything started and there’s just something amazing about, say, you suddenly being asked to contact this photojournalist about what’s been happening in the Mindanao kidnappings and not realizing then that the person you called was actually your future husband. Which was what happened to the writer. Hehe

I asked Z last night if there was one thing he could change about our past–how we started, etc., what would it be? And then he said, nothing. And I couldn’t help but agree because, well, for one, while it wasn’t the most ideal of circumstances, I feel that we both needed something like that to happen to us–to wake us up maybe. We wouldn’t be as strong now if our story was just your normal run in the mill girl-meets-boy, boy-likes girl, girl-likes-boy and they end up together kind of start. I guess you could say, even with all the complications taken into account, I wouldn’t have it any other way because, well, it was worth the wait.

And on another unrelated note, we have become Banapple addicts. We went twice already this week. I swear, I love their food–really appetizing and the serving is just right AND they’re not so expensive for the kind of quality you’ll be getting. They have really good desserts–I love their apple pie–and their pork ribs are good. Z’s totally addicted. He’s actually there now eating by himself. Haha

I’m having a semi-lazy Sunday at home. I’m downloading new music while doing a bit of decluttering in my room. There are just a ton of stuff lying around that are not really of use anymore and it’s about time I get rid of all my old junk to make room for the new (junk).

So…until the next entry!

The killers

You know how every time you listen to a piece of music, it takes you back to a place you thought you’d already forgotten? Exactly how I felt when I listened to The Killers. Right now, they are at their third album, Day & Age.

I’ve only heard ‘Space Man’ on the radio and while I think the song is pretty decent, I doubt it’ll top any of the songs in their numero uno album of all time–Hot Fuss.

Now Hot Fuss, that takes me places. I remember first hearing ‘Somebody told me’ and ‘Mr. Brightside’ when I went to San Francisco because my cousin Ally would always sing along to it every time it was played on the local radio. I got a copy of the album, one of the few original CDs I own, and immediately copied the songs into my cheapo (actually it came for free with my ixus camera) 128MB mp3 player. I loved all the songs—Smile like you mean it and All these things I’ve done being my favorites. I was listening to it over and over today and it just brought back memories.

It was me, The Killers, and San Francisco. I used to do a lot of venturing into the city on my own because my grandparents, after having gone there a hundred times (my grandma’s an immigrant so she visits once a year at the very least) preferred to stay at home during the day. My grandfather just survived two angioplasty operations a few months before we went to the US as well so he’s not really supposed to exhaust himself.

So I got to know SF on my own and it was the most free I felt the whole time I stayed there. That was the height of my grandparents—my whole family, actually—pressuring me to go work for the bank. It got to a point that I’d actually dread going home to Tita Aida’s house because every dinner, without fail, they would talk “nonchalantly” (or at least their version of nonchalant) about how it was great if you had your own business to run. In my head I was thinking, gee if you guys think it’s so great, go home and run it yourselves. Hehe. Of course, I’ve grown out of that way of thinking now but back then, that was how I felt. My sister knows this—I’d be texting her every time after another bank episode showed up. It was really quite depressing. Imagine me crying while taking a bath. Hahaha. Now that I think about it, it was quite funny. I think that was me at one of my brattiest.

So anyway, everytime I’d go out on my own into the city, I’d only have my trusty old mp3 player for company. There was a time when I eventually got to meet this filam art student and we hung out for an afternoon by the marina before he went off to class. It was a fun conversation. Every time I’d listen to Smile like you mean it, I remember that afternoon.

Haaaay. I miss wandering off to nowhere. I think that’s definitely one thing I’d love to do before I turn 30. Go wander off alone somewhere. Just me and my ipod wandering around the new unexplored getaway..

Postsecret fix

I haven’t browsed thru post-secret in a looong time. I did today and look at what showed up:

Hahaha. If that’s not a coincidence, then it’s not a coincidence. Wehe. Okay, does that mean I’m finally happy? I suppose so! And here’s one of the reasons why:

In my case, it’s a He. So yey! No more secrets!

And then if that secret did not hit the bullseye, here’s one more (although I think “HATE” is too strong a word. “Could not care less” is more like it):

Naks. I’m turning into a looney cheeseball.

And in the interest of full disclosure, I do not hate basketball. I actually like watching basketball especially when it’s an Ateneo-La Salle game and Ateneo is winning. Other than that, and watching the NBA finals sometimes (like if I started watching the games during the playoffs, I’ll end up wanting to watch all of the season’s games because I’m just wired that way), ang haba nun. Anyway, other than that, my world won’t end if by some weird twist of fate they start banning people from watching basketball. Heh. Ayun.

Today was pretty uneventful at work. Well, we had a bit of a problem with the printers not getting our shade of red right (Irene told me it ended up looking maroonish–noooo!) but Inggo’s been getting it fixed. I thought I’d see a copy of the second issue this morning but it turns out that little glitch showed up so I ended up spending the afternoon writing article briefs for our June issue. Sigh. It’s one of the things I do not look forward to doing. Rather, it’s one of the things I look forward to the least. Uh, same banana.

Got to text with Igor today and he’s doing one of our career stories. Yey! I miss you lola! Here’s you in polaroid at Hayahay:

And while doing yoga at the *drumroll please* Hambilica Sea View! I miss whatshername the owner! Florence ba?

Darn it. And now the obsessive attempt in remembering begins. Trining? Carmen? Judy? (hehe) Fides?? Fides! Right?

To cap off our second issue…

Em, Gina and I devoured this grande order of nachos from Nacho Fast all by ourselves. That, after eating two pizzas (us) and buko pandan dessert (me) at Mojito Bay, and two cones of FIC ice cream (them) in MOA.

If there is anything my editors and I have in common, it’s our love for (junk) food!

Speaking of food, I have been salivating over Banapple’s apple crumble pie ever since I saw its photo for our April issue’s Food section. So yesterday, after coming home from our trip to Subic with his family, Zeph and I went to Banapple. The apple pie, snickers cheesecake, ribs and herb chicken rolls we had for dinner did not disappoint. The place is nice, I like their tables. They made a mosaic out of different colored marbles. Cute!

This weekend was so fun (and kilig! heehee). Thank goodness we managed to finish our issue way ahead of deadline. Our work flow’s getting much better! And I daresay, so is our April issue. I love love love it. Check it out soon at the stands–cover girl this time is very pregnant Mylene Dizon with son Tomas!