Wow more than 6 months since my last post. Sorry blog, haven't really had time to update as I've been VERY busy with LIFE. :)
Updates:
It's a great 2011 so far - save for some lows but the highs are definitely worth it. No use sulking, right?
No thoughts of leaving my current job so that's good, I assume.
I do miss my family - really feels different being away from them. Hello independence.
So there. Short and sweet :)
The Old Christmas
Should I be worried? The holidays this year aren't as festive, the season's not as merry. Have I "outgrown" Christmas? (Actually, this feeling's been lingering for years.)
I'm nostalgic about the past Christmases, way back before. The smell of steaming embutido would wake me up in the morning, cooking for the whole day. We'd have loads of chicken pastel (mommy cooks this only once a year) and homemade fruit salad. The house would be so busy with cooking, gift-wrapping, gift-giving, and other traditions.
Seems like the traditions are fading. Christmas has been reduced to, well, noche buena and a Christmas mass. Am I out-of-line here? Am I starting to become superficial? Well that's my Christmas, at least it was.
Here's to hoping I can find the real meaning of this special holiday in the next years.
I'm nostalgic about the past Christmases, way back before. The smell of steaming embutido would wake me up in the morning, cooking for the whole day. We'd have loads of chicken pastel (mommy cooks this only once a year) and homemade fruit salad. The house would be so busy with cooking, gift-wrapping, gift-giving, and other traditions.
Seems like the traditions are fading. Christmas has been reduced to, well, noche buena and a Christmas mass. Am I out-of-line here? Am I starting to become superficial? Well that's my Christmas, at least it was.
Here's to hoping I can find the real meaning of this special holiday in the next years.
More Unhealthiness
So sums every trip I make back home. Not that I'm complaining, it's a nice change. But too much of it is making me crazy. Makes me super unproductive and overly lethargic.
Not healthy indeed, especially for the holidays.
cobwebs galore
wow i finally found time (and will) to post something haha it's been a while =)
time to get rid of the cobwebs!!!
time to get rid of the cobwebs!!!
VN Highlights: Hue
Hue, another UNESCO World Heritage Site, was another must-see for us culture-seekers. We just spent a night there/a full day, which was drastically short compared to our stay in Hoi An (2 nights and 2 full days).
The weather was already below 20 degrees, and we were still in Central Vietnam. The constant, but occasional rain didn't help at all. Thanks to hot and spicy pho, our weather woes were somewhat relieved.
We visited the emperor's Ancient Royal Tombs (for the emperors of the Nguyen Dysnasty) and the Forbidden Purple City. Along the way, we witnessed how they make incense and the trademark conical hats. =)
The weather was already below 20 degrees, and we were still in Central Vietnam. The constant, but occasional rain didn't help at all. Thanks to hot and spicy pho, our weather woes were somewhat relieved.
We visited the emperor's Ancient Royal Tombs (for the emperors of the Nguyen Dysnasty) and the Forbidden Purple City. Along the way, we witnessed how they make incense and the trademark conical hats. =)
the coolest way to get around: by motorbike!
it's an experience itself.
Thien Mu Pagoda, the biggest in Hue
playing around in the courtyard of Emperor Tu Duc's tomb (the fourth emperor of the Nguyen Dynasty)
(yes, those are incense sticks)
incense and conical hat making
another rainy day. in the Forbidden Purple City.
ELEPHANT!!!!!!
bullying the koi fishes in the moat
Thanks Mom =)
On my way to work today, I smelled a very familiar scent along Dela Costa. Then seeing white petals on the street, I knew it had to be sampaguita.
Thanks Mom for reminding me you're always there. =)
Thanks Mom for reminding me you're always there. =)
See. Taste. Smell. Hear. Feel. LOVE.
Reblogged from I Wrote This For You
"Outside the station, she stands with her child on the side of the street, taking pictures of cars.
You think she's insane. Until, one day, you notice that she's taking pictures of the license plates of the cars her child gets into.
Because you look. But you do not see.
And she walks out the shop with bags full of cat food. You think she's some crazy cat lady until you find out, she has no cats.
Because you eat. But you do not taste.
It's been a while since their last album but he assures you, he's doing just fine these days, white flecks in his nostrils. Then he asks you if he can spend the night on your couch, even though it stinks.
Because you sniff. But you do not smell.
And they say "Just OK" when you ask them how school was. Then you wonder what they're hiding until you find their diary and the last entry reads "I wish you'd give me some privacy."
Because you listen. But you do not hear.
And they've got a bruise over their eye and you run the tips of your fingers over it and ask them how it happened. You believe them. Until it happens again.
Because you touch. But you do not feel.
And they walk past you everyday, one million stories, each waiting to be told. Waiting for you to ask.
Because you live. But very few, love."
"Outside the station, she stands with her child on the side of the street, taking pictures of cars.
You think she's insane. Until, one day, you notice that she's taking pictures of the license plates of the cars her child gets into.
Because you look. But you do not see.
And she walks out the shop with bags full of cat food. You think she's some crazy cat lady until you find out, she has no cats.
Because you eat. But you do not taste.
It's been a while since their last album but he assures you, he's doing just fine these days, white flecks in his nostrils. Then he asks you if he can spend the night on your couch, even though it stinks.
Because you sniff. But you do not smell.
And they say "Just OK" when you ask them how school was. Then you wonder what they're hiding until you find their diary and the last entry reads "I wish you'd give me some privacy."
Because you listen. But you do not hear.
And they've got a bruise over their eye and you run the tips of your fingers over it and ask them how it happened. You believe them. Until it happens again.
Because you touch. But you do not feel.
And they walk past you everyday, one million stories, each waiting to be told. Waiting for you to ask.
Because you live. But very few, love."
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