by rossanahead | Feb 26, 2012 | career, Ruth M. Floresca, woman
By Ruth Manimtim-Floresca
I am not much of a coffee drinker. And I don’t particularly like spending a lot on signature drinks. Lately though, I’ve been finding myself hanging out with online media friends at various coffee shops after we’ve attended events.
It’s nice when we get to use the gift certificates we’re given during press cons or by clients but, most of the time, we do have to shell out for the stuff we order. Good thing the stores offer non-coffee drinks so I can still buy other kinds of beverages. However, practical person that I am, I still try to limit my spending and just let the others get the regular coffee and pastry fixes they always can’t seem to be without.
Analyzing the situation, I realized that I’m there mainly for the company. I enjoy being with my friends because we always have a great time exchanging stories. We seem not to run out of topics to talk about and I find my mind stimulated by all the interactions which, at times, even give me ideas about new stuff to write about.
True friends are hard to find these days. So I’m taking these pockets of opportunity to bond with them when I do have time to hang out even for just an hour or two once in a while. After all, I don’t know how much longer our schedules would jive and if we’ll still be having coffee together a few weeks or months from now.
I like how we continuously meet individuals whom we could be great friends with in time. It’s amazing how our hearts have the capability to let more people in who will eventually touch our lives in the most meaningful of ways.
So I don’t mind spending for my not-so-cheap, non-coffee drinks every now and then. Ultimately, the friendships, the stories, the laughter, and the good times are worth far more than that.
Photo by Christiana Rivers on Unsplash
by rossanahead | Feb 23, 2012 | family, woman
By Jane Santos-Guinto
Three years ago today, I became Mrs. Jonathan Guinto.
We had the ceremony at Our Lady of Lourdes Parish in Tagaytay. Father Vic Sadaya of the Claretian Missionaries traveled all the way from Quezon City to bless our vows. Father Vic’s sermons have inspired me since high school, when I vowed that he’d be the priest to officiate my wedding someday.
It was two in the afternoon on the twenty-second day of the second month of the year 2009, a date half-planned, half-serendipitous. I walked down the church’s long aisle smiling at the guests who had come to share the day with us, wondering why quite a number of them were teary-eyed, unaware that my groom had been crying as his parents walked with him towards the altar. “Walk slowly, walk slowly,” said the church assistant, gesturing that I should take my time.
I guess I was in a hurry. I so wanted to be with the man whom I have loved since I was a skinny 22-year-old grad student. The man who had given me my first kiss, the one who could listen to my rambling stories for hours, the one who prayed for and with me. In my heart, God told me it was the perfect time, the right time.
Till I Met You, a 1980’s song by Odette Quesada was being sung with violin accompaniment:
I never dream
‘Cause I always thought that dreaming was for kids
Just a childish thing
And I could swear
Love was just a game that children play
And no more than a game
Till I met you
I never knew what love was
Till I met you
This feeling seems to grow more every day
I love you more each dayI believe you
I believe in every word when you say
‘I love you all the way’
Now I can swear
Love is not a game that children play
So tell me that you’ll stayTill I met you
I never knew what love was
Till I met you
This feeling seems to grow more every day
I love you more each day…
The wedding party that followed at Casablanca Private Resort was all that Jonathan and I had hoped it would be: good food, great weather, a perfect view of Taal Volcano, family and friends. Many flew in from the United States, Hong Kong, and Singapore: all of my mother’s siblings, his parents and aunts, his boss, and his high school buddies. It was a wonderful reunion, a big thanksgiving. We never grow tired of watching the video.
As I write this, I’m waiting for Mr. Guinto to finish watching the news and go online for our virtual anniversary date. I’ve put on a little makeup and a nice new dress from my mom. The cake is resting in the refrigerator.
Yes, we may have been apart for most of these past three years but our hearts could never be as close. Each morning I wake up thanking God I have a good husband. Each day I pray to be a good wife. Each pause in our conversations, we’re silently wishing we didn’t have so many miles between us. Each “I love you,” says we long to be together again soon.
Today, more than ever, I miss the gold and silver band that said I’m “Certifiably Jonathan’s.” The ring that I had carefully picked out and had never taken off after our wedding day, but which I flushed down the toilet one hot summer night last year. I hope to have it duplicated some time soon. Then again, I don’t really need a piece of metal to know I am his.
Today, we’ll be looking at our wedding pictures, dreaming of our third honeymoon, and praying for a lifetime of love and happiness.
Photo by Micheile Henderson on Unsplash
by rossanahead | Feb 19, 2012 | career, children, Education, family, parenting, woman
By Maridol Rañoa-Bismark
What do you do when you have to rush to work in the morning, beat deadlines in the afternoon, and get home ready to drop at night? Certainly not end the day without checking on your child whether he’s a tyke, a teenager, or a college-age young man like mine.
Sharon Cuneta’s commercial about coming home at night and checking on her sleeping children still strikes a chord in my heart, even if it’s been off the air for quite some time. It’s not that I harbor any illusions of being a Megastar; certainly not. It’s just that it paints the perfect picture of my life these days, so crazy that I can’t even catch my son while he’s awake.
How do I squelch the guilty feelings threatening to kill me with visions of a youth gone wild? By driving my son wherever he needs to be, that’s how.
In the mornings, I drive him to school. On weekends, I repeat the ritual when he has to go to a debate tournament or a required school event.
Trapped in the confines of my trusty vehicle, I strike up a conversation with my son. The poor guy—even if he’s about to nod off to sleep—responds. Never mind if it’s a vague “It’s OK” to my question about how the school fair went. That’s enough for a mom like me who’s anxious to connect with her son.
When I’m lucky, my son’s sentences are longer; his replies more colorful. He lets me into his world—a world where an older cross-enrollee acts like a know-it-all, making everyone snicker, and where teacher jokes rule. I feel like I’m part of a secret society where sorrow and laughter are shared. For a while, looming deadlines recede and the pressure of having to deal with rushed ideas fade. I am in a faraway land with my son—a land where life is simpler and I don’t have to deliver numbers to survive. It’s a breather in my hectic pace, a good rev-up for a brand-new work day.
Now you know why I won’t give up those morning drives for anything in the world except, perhaps, for a big breaking story. Our moments of bonding moments make me more human in the dog-eat-dog world I step into every working day. I remember what life is all about: feeling, sharing, being human.
Thank you, Ben, for making your harassed mom less of a monster and more of a human being through the years.
Featured Photo Courtesy of Cars Website
by rossanahead | Feb 15, 2012 | career, Education, Mari-an Santos, travel, woman
By Mari-An Santos
I was sitting at a popular restaurant in Bucharest, having lunch with a Romanian friend, and taking in the beautiful surroundings. There were blondes. There were brunettes. There were so many foreigners—and then it dawned on me, I am the foreigner. With my brown skin, small eyes, and jet black hair, I stood out like a sore thumb in a sea of Caucasians.
I’ve lived in the Philippines all my life. And because I’ve only traveled to nearby Asian countries, “looking different” had never been an issue for me. Now that I’m living in a European city that is not quite cosmopolitan, I find myself “looking different.” There are only a handful of Asians at the student dormitory where I live. I’ve seen a couple of Chinese and Japanese citizens, but that’s about it. The Filipino population here, not counting me and my schoolmate, is a measly 11.
On any given day, it’s not unusual to be gawked at on the street. I’ll be walking down the street and get stared at by my fellow pedestrians. I’ll be riding my bike to class and be greeted by “Ni hao” or “Sayonara.”
The other day, I was asking a shop owner about their products when she tells me that some of the soaps she makes contain Chinese teas. I politely tell her that it’s nice to know and that I am not Chinese. She apologizes and asks where I’m from.
At first, I was appalled by such occurrences, especially after someone told me that we Asians look alike. I explained to him that I could actually tell the Koreans from the Japanese, the Chinese from the Filipino. But eventually, I began to see things his way. From where I’m standing, I wouldn’t be able to tell the Europeans apart either.
And that’s perfectly fine.
Studying in a foreign land has not only opened my eyes to the reality that I am a citizen of the world, it has made me appreciate my being Filipino all the more. Even as I learn about other peoples, cultures, and places, I have learned to value home even more.
Photo by Kyle Gregory Devaras on Unsplash
by rossanahead | Feb 12, 2012 | children, Education, technology
By Carmie Dulguime
As a student over 20 years ago, we didn’t need the Internet and all those sophisticated gadgets that children have today. We can proudly tell them that we passed with flying colors without going online for research or having a laptop to use for our reports. We didn’t have tablet PCs that can store our notes, and e-books for references. We also didn’t have the luxury of using online tutorial services to help us advance in our studies.
We used our brains for analyzing skills and memorizing, our hands for writing, our eyes for observing, and our ears for listening. Whatever kids today are doing with their digital aids, we did 10 times more with just our physical senses. We can argue that we were more creative and resourceful since we didn’t have the advantage of having an electronic study partner. But if you look at it, our old school study habits can actually work with today’s technology.
Early birds win: We are calmer, more focused, and more alert when we sleep early and wake up early before an exam. Kids today will argue that they have a lot to cover, so they need to stay up late. You can tell them how we used to do it: we study days before the exam so we have time for more sleep every night. Then we wake up very early to study again since our minds are fresh and alert to absorb more. This is even more useful for those accessing the Internet for studying since connection speed is usually faster early in the morning.
Flash cards for all ages: Kids, especially the older ones, might laugh at the idea, but flash cards will work forever. It’s more fun for studying that requires memorization. It also works better with a study partner. This is easier since there are now Powerpoint slides, Photoshop, or any other program that kids use to make the images for the flash cards. They don’t even have to print them out – just show them straight from the computer, mobile phone, or tablet PC screen.
Remembering the library: Kids probably don’t visit the library as much as we used to because of e-books and the Internet’s own library of millions of resources. But there is nothing like a good book as reference that assures you of credibility and reliability of source. The library is also a great place to study since everyone there is supposed to be quiet. There are computers and Internet access there as well, so there really is no excuse for not choosing the library as a study sanctuary.
Having a break: Getting sleepy, getting a headache, or feeling tired during study is an indication that the body has had enough. That’s the time we stand up, walk outside to get some air, or take a short nap. About 30 minutes to an hour should be good; longer than two hours might lead to distraction. The mobile phone is a good help here as an alarm when it’s time to go back to studying.
Photo by Marten Bjork on Unsplash
