Thanks everybody for your kind words. And to those who didn't have any kind words, fuck you.
I'm not going to talk about my pregnancy anymore or anything serious. I always said before that shallowness is the theme of this blog and yet I keep insisting on otherwise. I'm not just talking about the pregnancy; even my mother was criticized when I wrote about her recently. For Pete's sake, the woman is dead! Did ya forget to take your anti-depressants or something?
So let's go back to fun and vanity and frivolity. Better to be called stupid and vain than all the other nasty things I've been called recently. On to shopping! And parties! And shoes! And celebrities!
Tuesday, February 09, 2010
Monday, February 08, 2010
On honesty in blogging... and everything else actually
The previous post was interesting because some reader got offended by a comment I made and some readers reacted and then it became nasty and then I just had to not allow nasty comments anymore (the exchange is at my mommy blog--yes, I double post!). To be honest with ya, I found the exchange fascinating. I always liked controversy and dirt (which explains why I work in an entertainment magazine!) but since that is a mommy blog, I kinda figured I better clean it up since mommies seem to be expected to be positive and perfect. And since I'm spilling my guts there (and here) about how I feel about pregnancy and people around me (and guts aren't pretty), well, I'm rubbing people the wrong way.
First of all, I want to assure everybody that I love my unborn child. I hate feeling vomity and hungry and dizzy and tired and I certainly do not like my acne and the unsolicited advice being thrown at me left and right, but hey, it comes with the territory. I don't like what comes with the pregnancy but I love the kid that's causing all this fuss. The Jelly Bean is worth it.
Second, I'm honest but I'm not mean. People can't tell the difference. If you're fat and you ask me, "Hey, am I fat?", I will say, "Yes, you're fat." I will not mince words and I will not look away. But when I do say that, I'm not being nasty; I just answered your frikkin' question. So when I said in my previous post that I noticed that only ugly and unfashionable women tell me to stop trying to look good, I did mean that--that I'm fascinated with the fact that beautiful, kind and stylish women are encouraging and helpful while ugly women are nasty and discouraging. It's true! I wasn't being snarky when I wrote that; I was stating an observation.
Third, second point doesn't mean I'm a good and gentle person. If I were, this discussion won't even exist. I can be cruel and unkind. My friends and family call me "brutally honest" and they say this fondly but my family and friends are wonderful people who love me despite having been victims of my tongue. I've hurt a lot of people even though I didn't mean to. My sister once told me, "You're an editor so edit yourself!" As I've gotten older, I've learned to hold in my opinion, to lie even, but people can always tell if I'm lying. So now I say, "Ask me no questions and I'll tell you no lies."
Fourth, will my brutal honesty harm my child? I have no idea. My mother was just as brutal while my father's philosophy was, "Honesty is not always the best policy." I don't want to know why my father will live by that credo but in my experience, I appreciated my mother's truthfulness so I want to be just as truthful with my kid. But I do hope that wisdom and compassion will hold my tongue and, to be honest with ya, just right now, wisdom and compassion are two things I'm still learning about. So help me God!
Fifth, what does this mean for my blogging and my promise to be completely candid? Well, this means I'll still tell you how I really feel. And if you think I've said too much, do tell me. Sometimes I really am not aware if I'm already being hurtful. My husband, my friends, my brother and sister are always telling me to be careful, to shut up, to delete that post, etc. So tell me if I was out of line--I'm used to being told off and I don't get offended because I know how stupid and careless I can be. Also, if you notice, I don't really blog daily. That's because there are days I really really am miserable but I don't want to post it because I really don't want to record too much ugliness.
They say pregnancy is a beautiful thing. So far, it's been pretty ugly (sniff! sniff!). But I do have moments of happiness--the ultrasound and seeing that beautiful little Jelly Bean swimming about as we counted its fingers and toes (complete sets!), the gentle way my husband treats me and tells me I'm beautiful even though pimples have multiplied on my face and back, the way drivers will stop their cars or strangers will open doors when they see me waddling past, the way people's eyes light up when they find out I'm pregnant... There is kindness, too. And I'm happy to be honest about that!
First of all, I want to assure everybody that I love my unborn child. I hate feeling vomity and hungry and dizzy and tired and I certainly do not like my acne and the unsolicited advice being thrown at me left and right, but hey, it comes with the territory. I don't like what comes with the pregnancy but I love the kid that's causing all this fuss. The Jelly Bean is worth it.
Second, I'm honest but I'm not mean. People can't tell the difference. If you're fat and you ask me, "Hey, am I fat?", I will say, "Yes, you're fat." I will not mince words and I will not look away. But when I do say that, I'm not being nasty; I just answered your frikkin' question. So when I said in my previous post that I noticed that only ugly and unfashionable women tell me to stop trying to look good, I did mean that--that I'm fascinated with the fact that beautiful, kind and stylish women are encouraging and helpful while ugly women are nasty and discouraging. It's true! I wasn't being snarky when I wrote that; I was stating an observation.
Third, second point doesn't mean I'm a good and gentle person. If I were, this discussion won't even exist. I can be cruel and unkind. My friends and family call me "brutally honest" and they say this fondly but my family and friends are wonderful people who love me despite having been victims of my tongue. I've hurt a lot of people even though I didn't mean to. My sister once told me, "You're an editor so edit yourself!" As I've gotten older, I've learned to hold in my opinion, to lie even, but people can always tell if I'm lying. So now I say, "Ask me no questions and I'll tell you no lies."
Fourth, will my brutal honesty harm my child? I have no idea. My mother was just as brutal while my father's philosophy was, "Honesty is not always the best policy." I don't want to know why my father will live by that credo but in my experience, I appreciated my mother's truthfulness so I want to be just as truthful with my kid. But I do hope that wisdom and compassion will hold my tongue and, to be honest with ya, just right now, wisdom and compassion are two things I'm still learning about. So help me God!
Fifth, what does this mean for my blogging and my promise to be completely candid? Well, this means I'll still tell you how I really feel. And if you think I've said too much, do tell me. Sometimes I really am not aware if I'm already being hurtful. My husband, my friends, my brother and sister are always telling me to be careful, to shut up, to delete that post, etc. So tell me if I was out of line--I'm used to being told off and I don't get offended because I know how stupid and careless I can be. Also, if you notice, I don't really blog daily. That's because there are days I really really am miserable but I don't want to post it because I really don't want to record too much ugliness.
They say pregnancy is a beautiful thing. So far, it's been pretty ugly (sniff! sniff!). But I do have moments of happiness--the ultrasound and seeing that beautiful little Jelly Bean swimming about as we counted its fingers and toes (complete sets!), the gentle way my husband treats me and tells me I'm beautiful even though pimples have multiplied on my face and back, the way drivers will stop their cars or strangers will open doors when they see me waddling past, the way people's eyes light up when they find out I'm pregnant... There is kindness, too. And I'm happy to be honest about that!
Pregnant pics
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Pregnant women, take note: You can look fab even when preggy! So now that I'm the pregnant one, I am making sure I look as gorgeous as possible!
Here I am wearing a shirt dress. I won't fit in it soon (buttons will pop if I insist!). I am also wearing black support tights--perfect for when you want to prevent the dreaded varicose veins but still look stylish. If you're pregnant like me, there's no need to buy maternity dresses (at least until we're around 7 months and beyond!).
Anyway, I love dresses in silk jersey--these hug the body's curves lovingly. This is me in my black silk jersey dress (sorry, forgot to take a full-length one but this has a full skirt). It has stretch so even as I am gaining weight around the boob and tummy areas, I can still look pretty. If you must buy maternity dresses, just browse end-of-season sales where you can get good clearance savings, then you won't have to spend a fortune! And accessorize, accessorize, accessorize! I'm wearing enamel bangles with my Vita Fede leather-and-gold bangles. In my hair, my feather headband. Everyone said I looked pretty, and when you're pregnant, that's music to your ears!
Friday, February 05, 2010
Dear Mama
Yesterday, I was telling some girls at work that when I was younger, I'd be in hospitals so much because of my asthma and my favorite thing to do was to grab my IV bag and visit the other patients and ask them about their lives, which was hell of a lot better to do than stare at my room's ceiling and listen to myself breathe. The girls at work didn't seem fascinated with my story and focused on only one thing: "Why were you alone? Wasn't your mom with you?" And I said, "Oh, Mama never really came to visit me when I was sick. She was only there to pick me up, and that's also because she had to pay the bill."
Mama, they looked at me like I had a terrible mother, and I guess the story did make you sound like one. Yikes! Thinking about it now, I never felt any resentment whenever you and Papa deposited me at the hospital and came back for me when the doctor said I was free to go. For one thing, I knew you had work. I also enjoyed being on my own; in fact, I enjoyed it so much, I couldn't wait to leave home and be independent! And if you hadn't left me alone so much, I wouldn't learn to love reading, to venture out by myself, to talk to strangers (which you never discouraged) and be interested in their stories, to explore a world outside my own, and to be happy with my own company. All those nights in the hospital never felt lonely because I fell asleep immediately--I had a full day chatting with doctors, nurses, patients and their relatives. I saw some really sick people, some of them died when I was there, which was sad because I had just met them, but I was a happy kid and you always told me there was a heaven.
Well, now you're in heaven and I'm glad you're there. Really! I know you had a hard life, Mama, so it's great you're living it up somewhere vastly more wonderful than here. I do miss you, especially now that I'm going to have a baby. I want to raise my child the way you raised me but apparently your way isn't popular anymore. Listening to all the unsolicited advice I get these days, one would think you were a truly terrible mother. "Children should be loved, you should never leave them alone, you shouldn't let them play outside, you shouldn't spank them, you should be their friend, you should feed them organic stuff only, etc ad infinitum nauseum." Mama, kids these days are coddled and treated like emperors, like they were the centers of their parents' universe. You always made it clear to me and my siblings that God was the first in your life, then Papa, then--if there were no other people who needed your help--then and only then do we enter the picture.
I kinda liked knowing that we weren't that special, Mama. For one thing, no one can ever accuse any of your children for being spoiled brats. We're kinda wonderful actually, all smart and talented and strong. People think your children are fantastic, Mama! And we are, we are indeed. So if anyone dare say your way was wrong, well, let's just see what kind of kids they bring up!
I think you understood parenting more than anyone these days. Parenting is for crazy people actually because it's a doomed relationship. From the moment your child takes its first breath, you teach it the skills to do just one thing: Leave you. And you, unlike most parents who just baby their children, you always pushed, pushed, pushed! And look where I am now! I know you're so proud, Mama.
To be honest, I wouldn't be who I am if you had always been there. Well, you were there for me by not being there all the time. Sometimes, I would feel you holding back, sometimes I felt you closed your eyes, sometimes I felt you turned away. All those times made me stronger, because I knew that though you didn't help, you did so consciously, knowing I'd be better if I did it on my own. And I am. I don't know what willpower it took to stop yourself from scooping us into your arms, from not quitting work to be with us, from not defending us when we whined. You were one tough mama!
At your wake, there were so many people, it was crazy. I met so many people whose lives you changed. I even remember feeling jealous because I had to share you with soooo many people! I remember calling home one day and saying, "Mama, let's go shopping!" And you said, "I have to do counseling and discipleship today. Maybe another time." There was never another time, Mama, because you always chose the less fortunate. I always got angry over that but when you died and I saw how many people mourned you--some of them were crying more than I or Papa or my siblings did--I realized you chose the right thing.
You always did actually. And that entire time we were at the wake, a strange thing happened: We found ourselves comforting others, instead of the other way around. We had taken over your role of comforter and guidance counselor--you kinda didn't give us a choice!--even though we were the ones who lost a mother and a wife. But by stepping into your shoes, we became better human beings.
This reminds me of that story you told us of two sisters, Mary and Martha. Jesus had visited their home and Martha was super busy cleaning and cooking so that Jesus will feel important. Mary sat by His feet and listened to Him speak. Martha got angry and said, "Lord, don't you care that my sister has left me to do all the work by myself? Tell her to help me!" And Jesus said, "Martha, Martha! You are worried and upset about so many things, but only one thing is needed. Mary has chosen what is better, and it will not be taken away from her." (Luke 10:38-42). Now, I always thought this story was stupid and an excuse to be lazy. But when you died, Mama, I got it. It took me 32 years but I finally got it. You always did choose the right thing and now you have been rewarded.
Oh, I'm going to be a great mom! I just know it. Because I had you, and though everyone tells me that there are new ways to raise kids these days, I think I'm going to be just like you--tough, strict, totally no-nonsense and firmly rooted on God's Word. And if I turn out half as good a person as you were, Mama, then my little Jelly Bean is in very good hands.
I miss you,
F.
Well, now you're in heaven and I'm glad you're there. Really! I know you had a hard life, Mama, so it's great you're living it up somewhere vastly more wonderful than here. I do miss you, especially now that I'm going to have a baby. I want to raise my child the way you raised me but apparently your way isn't popular anymore. Listening to all the unsolicited advice I get these days, one would think you were a truly terrible mother. "Children should be loved, you should never leave them alone, you shouldn't let them play outside, you shouldn't spank them, you should be their friend, you should feed them organic stuff only, etc ad infinitum nauseum." Mama, kids these days are coddled and treated like emperors, like they were the centers of their parents' universe. You always made it clear to me and my siblings that God was the first in your life, then Papa, then--if there were no other people who needed your help--then and only then do we enter the picture.
I kinda liked knowing that we weren't that special, Mama. For one thing, no one can ever accuse any of your children for being spoiled brats. We're kinda wonderful actually, all smart and talented and strong. People think your children are fantastic, Mama! And we are, we are indeed. So if anyone dare say your way was wrong, well, let's just see what kind of kids they bring up!
I think you understood parenting more than anyone these days. Parenting is for crazy people actually because it's a doomed relationship. From the moment your child takes its first breath, you teach it the skills to do just one thing: Leave you. And you, unlike most parents who just baby their children, you always pushed, pushed, pushed! And look where I am now! I know you're so proud, Mama.
To be honest, I wouldn't be who I am if you had always been there. Well, you were there for me by not being there all the time. Sometimes, I would feel you holding back, sometimes I felt you closed your eyes, sometimes I felt you turned away. All those times made me stronger, because I knew that though you didn't help, you did so consciously, knowing I'd be better if I did it on my own. And I am. I don't know what willpower it took to stop yourself from scooping us into your arms, from not quitting work to be with us, from not defending us when we whined. You were one tough mama!
You always did actually. And that entire time we were at the wake, a strange thing happened: We found ourselves comforting others, instead of the other way around. We had taken over your role of comforter and guidance counselor--you kinda didn't give us a choice!--even though we were the ones who lost a mother and a wife. But by stepping into your shoes, we became better human beings.
This reminds me of that story you told us of two sisters, Mary and Martha. Jesus had visited their home and Martha was super busy cleaning and cooking so that Jesus will feel important. Mary sat by His feet and listened to Him speak. Martha got angry and said, "Lord, don't you care that my sister has left me to do all the work by myself? Tell her to help me!" And Jesus said, "Martha, Martha! You are worried and upset about so many things, but only one thing is needed. Mary has chosen what is better, and it will not be taken away from her." (Luke 10:38-42). Now, I always thought this story was stupid and an excuse to be lazy. But when you died, Mama, I got it. It took me 32 years but I finally got it. You always did choose the right thing and now you have been rewarded.
I miss you,
F.
Thursday, February 04, 2010
Want, want, want!
I guess you all probably all know that Apple launched the funnily named iPad last week.
Well, I want one. It's the future, my friends. I won't really go into all the specifics and what it can and can't do (this isn't a tech site and my husband can explain it better!) but from what I've seen, it's magic!
This week, Sony also launched their adorable new VAIOs, the super colorful VAIO E. Vince and I were invited to a lovely dinner for the launch but I wasn't feeling well and Vince had to stay at work so we didn't show up. Therese and Avvy of Virtusio, if you're reading this, I'm sorry! Was this the series you were launching? Just wondering...
I think these babies are beyond cute but Sony really has to offer better laptop deals--their laptops are insanely overpriced so, much as I want a VAIO, I bought my HP Mini instead (which I love!) and if I ever get oodles of money, I'd buy a MAC!
Or an iPad. I read that Sony plans to copy the iPad. Sony's CFO Nobuyuki Oneda said, "We are confident we have the skills to create a [similar] product." I'm sure, but again, Sony, you have to make your prices competitive. Since the iPad is only around $500 (P23,000), that's an unbeatable price for such an amazing gadget!
We're definitely getting the iPad come March. But we have to buy that Olympus EP1 first! How about you? Any gadget lusts?
This week, Sony also launched their adorable new VAIOs, the super colorful VAIO E. Vince and I were invited to a lovely dinner for the launch but I wasn't feeling well and Vince had to stay at work so we didn't show up. Therese and Avvy of Virtusio, if you're reading this, I'm sorry! Was this the series you were launching? Just wondering...
Or an iPad. I read that Sony plans to copy the iPad. Sony's CFO Nobuyuki Oneda said, "We are confident we have the skills to create a [similar] product." I'm sure, but again, Sony, you have to make your prices competitive. Since the iPad is only around $500 (P23,000), that's an unbeatable price for such an amazing gadget!
We're definitely getting the iPad come March. But we have to buy that Olympus EP1 first! How about you? Any gadget lusts?
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