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January, the start of a new year. Fireworks exploding up in the sky, and emotions running high. One cannot really avoid looking back to the past year; of remembering things that happened to one's life and what they have learned from it. Family that left, and those who have arrived. Resolutions to be written, or to be erased. 





All we want is to reinvent ourselves for the next 12 months: to be better and stronger, as well as eat healthier. Then there's snow, and about 12 hours of no daylight everyday. As you walk to the grocery, you remember that this is around the time they start selling Semla: one with vanilla or blueberry fillings. Hmm. Why not? There's always next month to start eating right lol.



White Winter Snow Boots from Skopunkten.    Vanilla Semla from ICA Stormarknad.





A Modicum of Anonymity | When Night Time Does Not Give You The Peace You Need
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...and you lie awake battling your demons. This is for you.








I know the feeling of finding yourself stuck out on the ledge,
and there ain't no healing from cuttin' yourself with the jagged edge.
- Nickelback, "Lullaby"




I took these pictures last year because I've been meaning to post something about it, and then entirely forgot to do so. This rose bloomed during winter last year, 2014. It amused me since no flower should be blooming at this time (obviously), yet it did. I placed two more roses bushes beside this one because we built a porch and things had to be moved around. 






I don't know why I even bothered posting about it. I guess it's some sort of sign, or an inspiration...that despite a withering environment, one can still bloom until it eventually hibernates before the year closes. It's that one last show of beauty and color before everything turns white. Yeah, sure.


Today, I'm in Stockholm. I am seated by the window, gazing out into the street, alone on a quiet and early Saturday morning in Starbucks. I swirled the whipped cream on top of my Chocolate Chip Créme Frappuccino and remembered a page from "Catcher In The Rye".

The protagonist was in the museum with his sister telling her that he had been there before. He realized that everything in there stayed the same. It was him who was different; older, amongst other things. 

I swirl the whipped cream and looked around me. What changes occurred since the last time I twirled the green straw to mix my beverage?



More than five years ago: I was single, I knew what I wanted to do with my career. I had direction. The people I saw when I looked out the window of Coffee Bean and Tea Leaf (I preferred this to Starbucks) were Asians, but still had the same city flare and rush as with the Caucasians I'm seeing walk past me right now. Did my preferences change? How about my aspirations and goals? Pretty sure they did. I'm just not sure if I'm still headed in the direction I've wanted all along, but this is the challenge of handling change.

One needs to adjust, somehow.

Whether it's learning a new language to better relate to the new kind of people that surround you nowadays, or just learning how to grit your teeth longer than you've ever had while trying to get through a situation you don't really like. 

Although, I guess the real point of this entry is how you would feel about these changes. Do you like these new changes or not?

Only time can tell.

Yes, really.

Then again, how much time will it take?



You have been on loop on my speakers while I tried completing my assignments tonight. I love most of your songs, but "Breakdown" just hits the spot.

It's not the time to breakdown.
Keep it together now.








Retail Therapy.

Why?

With all the people needing money and support in the world, you'd think that one ought to just send the money to them instead of spending it shopping or dining out in expensive restaurants.

There is, however, a point in your life (maybe once or twice a year) that you REALLY need to buy something nice for yourself. Then, you could get back to donating. I actually try to do that when a bit of extra money comes in: one organization for children, the Red Cross, and another one that helps people from all over the world.

So, going back to retail therapy...I am subscribed to several clothing and cosmetic products and I get updates on their promos. A couple of weeks ago, I received one of the best surprises from Yves Rocher. They have just started giving away their seemingly annual Christmas white robe made of polyester and fleece, just perfect to keep you comfortably warm in the coming winter. It's free when you order products from them and reply within 10 days! So, I did. I ordered from their line of Blackberry-scented "delights" (hand lotions, lip gloss, hand soap), a Vanilla-perfumed lotion (scent was so strong you need to resist the urge to eat it!), and a violet blanket made of 100% coral fleece that would really look nice on the sofa later on. I ordered it online Monday, and got the package by Friday!




I was all smiles when I received the package, mostly because it was exhilarating purchasing something and it was very therapeutic to tear open a box with little nice things inside you bought online several days before. 





I rummaged through them and closed the box after about 15 minutes. Conversation with the husband went like this:

Me: Okay, that was cool. I'm not happy anymore.
Husband [while driving]: Hmmm...open it again. 

I guess this is the part where they say that retail therapy is definitely cheaper than a psychiatrist BUT it definitely wears you out after literally just several minutes.

Don't get me wrong, though. I don't regret buying from Yves Rocher, their blackberry and vanilla scents are all over the place right now, I actually feel like I live in a candy house. Yum!







Yesterday, my mom went into surgery for a full hip replacement. Not being there for her before being wheeled into the surgery room made my heart ache. I called a little before midnight, it was almost 6am in Manila. I should be resting already, with all the stress I've been through for the past half year.

The surgery started at 9am, so I've been told. I have a chatroom in my mobile phone where the rest of the family members keep me updated. I rang her, told her everything would be okay, and went back to sleep. At least, I tried to sleep for the first few minutes. Exhaustion kicked in and I woke up to the news that the surgery had gone well and was completed in 2 hours, instead of the 3-hour schedule.

I sighed, relieved. One of my nieces sent me a picture of my mom, the doctors surrounding her and explaining to her what happened during the operation. I figured I should be writing something appropriately astounding and transcending after this experience, but there's really none I could think of.

However, I did realize that it was the first time I've seen my mom with white hair. I've lived at home with my parents all my life before migrating to a different country, and she's already 75. Once or twice, I've seen her grayish and whitish roots and then the next day, her hair would be dark as it was when she was a couple of decades younger.

I guess I can say that attention to detail comes with age, or I could just be missing my parents and my family while I now live with my new one in a different country.

Either way, noticing trivialities like this changes a person and his/her perspective that no one could ever really put into words.




"She's tired of problems that you caused her mind
Tired of all those lies in your freak show."
-"Gloria", Mando Diao



...and yet so darn rotten inside.

I meant the pictures I was browsing through of the new fashion releases in some of the online stores I usually buy from.

Maybe, that is how I actually feel. I sure ain't pretty, but I don't look so bad. Not at all. Right, let us go with that.

This is the first time I have written anything in almost half a year.

What did I start with again? Pretty on the outside, rotten on the inside...right.

I have been pretty scared of getting stuck with just my thoughts so I've been listening to music and watching tv. LOTS of tv. I think I've seen almost half of the collection of what one can probably label as the list of "Good TV Series" list...whatever that means.

I read somewhere that you should try to write something at least once a week. I will try to write something, or rather doodle something.

Wait, doodling is when you use a pen.

So, what should it then be called if one uses a keyboard?

Koodle? Keydle? Key delete. Hit delete. Now, I am even saying the words out loud. I am definitely mumbling.

Maybe I will make sense tomorrow.







I think all I do is complain. It never hurts to do so, even if you have no right in the first place. 
Then again, who decides if you have that right or not? 

At times, all I need is someone to talk to; without judgement, without a complaint about what I have to say. Just there to listen. Maybe all I need is a warm bath in the newly-renovated bathroom with a cup of Swiss Miss Hot Chocolate while watching an episode of one of my favorite tv shows. I could eat chocolates. Dozens of them, but I do not really have the appetite for them right now. Hmmm...

I am still healing from a semi-severe case of Chicken Pox. Yes, I have been vaccinated. What troubles me is why I was still able to catch it despite being injected with the vaccine. Maybe my immune system was running on fumes since I've had trouble sleeping the past few months.  

I found out that one of the people I hang out with, whose daughter she brought to one of our gatherings, had Chicken Pox (less than a week before the aforementioned party). I remember hugging the daughter a lot (because we are close) and even inviting several of them (people I hang out with) home to bake siopao (steamed Asian food that is very delicious). I think I even shared a glass of Coke with the daughter. 

Like clockwork, spots started coming out of my scalp after exactly two weeks. Clueless, I started scratching and picking on them. I actually thought I was just not able to wash my hair properly so I re-washed it. I even ended up popping one of the "poxes" near my ear because I thought it was just a pimple. When spots started showing on my face and lips, I literally screamed "OMG I HAVE CHICKEN POX!" Yes, I usually scream when surprised. 

I talked to the mother of that kid who had chicken pox. The party was January 25. I said I needed to know the exact date so I can tell the doctor the details of this mishap. She said her daughter had chicken pox on January 20. After reading this, my only reaction was, "Really? You brought a kid (who recently had Chicken Pox) to a party?" I kept it to myself, of course, since I am an unusually nice person. Then, I told her that I have Chicken Pox. She recanted the date and even called me to say that her daughter had Chicken Pox after January 25. So, which was it? Anyway, she ended up getting confused. So, I just let it go. No use stressing and starting a fight over it BUT I guess I got a bit irritated knowing that all this could have been prevented...or maybe not? I know I wanted someone to blame for it, and that's wrong of me. Shit happens. Chicken pox happens, and I needed all the positivity I could get for two weeks of pain. 







Anyway, I ended up having to make two trips to the ER and a one-night stay at the hospital. I think pus seemed to be coming out of the spots since I ended up with secondary infection. My throat was swollen, I think it even had spots in there as well. It felt like my tongue could not fit in my mouth. Itchy eyes that all I could do was close them and they would fill up with pus-filled tears that trickled down my face and ended up drying there. I could not really keep cleaning my cheeks for fear of hitting some of the spots. Fever spikes from 38.3 to 39.4. I was sleeping all throughout the day and night but I kept waking up every 3-4 hours because of the headaches. It was really stressful. Since I was in a lot of pain, especially my throat, I had difficulty eating and drinking water to the point that I stopped trying consuming anything. To top off the starvation was the itchiness of the Chicken Pox itself. 

The great part was the medical assistance and support Sweden provides for its inhabitants. No doubt about that. All I paid for was the medicine I had to buy after the hospitalization and during my first trip to the ER, that was it. Consultation, paracetamol, and the antibiotic they treated me intravenously with (Ekvacillin, I think) were included in the service. I had veal and blueberry soup for lunch from Kost (that's what it said on the napkins) and they were nowhere disgusting like most hospital foods are. I stayed in the infection wing of the hospital and the rooms were brilliantly constructed. The doors of each room lead almost directly to the roads outside so no person who is infected with anything bacterial needs to go through the hospital halls including the visitors of the patients. 

All that has passed, and I feel grateful for everything I experienced. Somehow, I feel renewed and stronger, and today was the first time I showered after 12 days!! I had to wait for the dried spots to fall off. Some of the scabs are still there so I was careful not to hit it with water coming directly from the shower. 

I have also started disinfecting the room and washed all the sheets. My entire face is dry but hopefully it will start to get better. 

Honestly, I was hoping it would all be over in one week. Well, at least the itchiness and being contagious was gone after 7 days, but having Chicken Pox as an adult is very difficult. 

Expect your life to stop for at least two to three weeks...or more. I had to quit school since I took up Calculus and we need to finish it in 10 weeks. Missing class for just one week is fine, but being absent for more than two weeks in 10-week classes will just not cut it. Since the class I am taking right now will not be offered until next year, I will have to wait. This Chicken Pox really came at a bad time but it is what it is.

So for everyone who has not yet gotten Chicken Pox, always drink your vitamins. Even if you have already been vaccinated, be vigilant and stay away from those who have it. On this note, I would like to mention that when I was younger, my brother also had Chicken Pox. He was in his teens and had also been vaccinated. We lived in the same house, but I did not get infected. Again, it all comes down to a strong immune system. Keep chugging down healthy food into your body as well. 

There you go, my take on Chicken Pox. 

Hopefully, what I wrote here would also give people strength in knowing that it will all get better if they have recently had it. Just ride it out. 



About a decade ago, there was a time when I listened perpetually to Dave Matthews Band. The song that was on top of my list was the acoustic version of #41, Live at Luther College, with Tim Reynolds. The first few chords hitting the guitar when #41 started playing on my then-new cd player sent shivers down my spine. It's the type of song that one would not easily forget.

Today, after 12 years, I listened to it again. I kept repeating the song, wondering whatever made me like it. I closed my eyes and played it one more time. I was then reminded of the pain, and how much the sound of the guitar and the words eased my troubled soul. I thought back to how difficult it had been. One could say that it was almost melodramatic. 

There are certain things that keep you alive and fighting inside, and some songs are meant to have that effect. This type of music tends to pave a road that leads to that precise spot in your soul and punctures it, forcing you to cry repeatedly, and feel better afterwards.

I used to play for all of the loneliness that nobody notices now.



Tim Reynolds and Dave Matthews
Image from http://clubnotes.pmpblogs.com/



Didn't I just say melodramatic?

When I was younger, I always wondered what would happen to me after a decade. Would I succumb to this pain and let go of everything, or would I rise from this? I have an answer now, and it was much better than I expected. I always had faith from the One above, cheesy as it may sound, and faith in myself.

The feeling I now get while reading the lyrics to #41, incoherent as it may seem, made me remember the self-doubt during my young and troubled years, and how I have let go of it. These memories gave me hope that I can once again surpass the unpleasantries of the challenges ahead. 

I understand that there will always be hardships, I believe that now. All because of one song. 


Why won't you run into the rain and play?
Let the tears splash all over you.







Tonight was a blast! I partied with friends and new-found acquaintances with about 30 people in Uppsala, had great dinner and drinks, plus a spectacular view of the castle when the fireworks started!

My friends were a couple, and the boyfriend is one of the members of the hosting family, who are Indonesians. I was really surprised to find out that the parents could speak almost perfect Filipino! Apparently, they used to work with a Filipino-owned company in Borneo back in the 60's. It was with much fascination how they recounted their experiences there. I was the only Filipino in that crowd, but I felt really welcomed and most important of all, I felt at home. It was definitely not what I expected, but it was indeed an interesting night to welcome the new year! 

The hosting family also knows the song "Dahil Sa 'Yo", which is a classic ballad written and composed in my native tongue, Filipino. They were requesting me to sing it, and I would have, if only I knew how haha! Imagine that! 

Also, I am assuming that their parents were almost 80, but they looked younger! They were using their iPads to record videos and take pictures, and that made me realize that it was delightful to have met these folks!

There was singing and champagne while we waited for the fireworks and great convos with all the other guests, of course! One can only be optimistic that every night in 2014 would be as refreshing as this one. 

As for now, may we leave behind the pains and tragedies we and our fellow men experienced in 2013 with strength and hope for the coming year. God Bless everyone, and stay strong!




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ABOUT GRACE

Daily stuff about me that are not related to my professional life as a web designer. Just random thoughts, behavior, experiences, and places. Let me be clear that I AM AN OPTIMIST, but I talk a lot about pessimism because I acknowledge its existence and this blog is my way of battling it :)

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