I’ve been reading travel blogs lately (solesisters, justwandering, to name a few) and I was hit by an overwhelming feeling of sadness immediately after I’ve hit that x button on the right side of the tab (yey for tabbed browsers). Clothesline, side-swiped, train wreck of a sadness.

I’ve been to 3 places outside the Philippines. Just 3. Hongkong, Thailand and Singapore. Within the country I’ve been to quite a few (Pangasinan, Baguio, Ilocos, Sagada, Banawe, Quezon, Laguna, Cavite, Batangas, Palawan, Cebu, Bohol, Davao, CDO)- the operative word here being few. And every bone in my body is saying – nay, screaming: THAT’S NOT ENOUGH, BITCH! Yes, I can be pretty harsh on myself sometimes.

I’ve made a lot of lists over the past 27 years (well 7 since I only started making lists when I graduated) and most of them were list of places I wanted to go to and things I want to do when I get there. My lists are 7 years old (revised over the years) but essentially they still remain the same. I still want to live in a house with a blue door in Notting Hill. I still want to walk the streets of Prague. Maybe find a vampire or 2 in Romania (or not). And get eaten by mosquitos in Australia. I want to stay in Sagada for 3 weeks and just drink coffee and smoke a j, and read my books, get to know the people who come and go. And drink tequila in the middle of the day in Mexico.

San Cristobal, Mexico (image from National Geographic)

My passport is depressingly blank. And I’ve come up with a ton of reasons that prevent me from just packing my bags and get going.

1. I’m broke.
2. With my dad’s passing – my family kinda needs me to be with them right now.
3. Whatever money I’m making, it needs to go to the family fund. Being the breadwinner right now, I just can’t afford to spend my money on just myself
4. I have a job. And a demanding (and taxing one) at that.
5. Did I mention that I was broke?

At this rate, with all these excuses I would never get anywhere.

I’ve read about how some travelers just decided to leave their life. They sold their belongings, made their entire life fit into 2 luggage (some in just 1 backpack). And up they went, living their life continuously in transit. Not quite home, but definitely at home. Did that make sense? In my head, it did.  Live, they did.

And I keep thinking, “Can I do that?”

At this point in my life, I would honestly say no. I can’t. Not yet. I can’t quit my job. My family depends on me financially. Plus I love it (it’s a love-hate relationship actually but that’s a different blog post) I can’t leave my family indefinitely, we need to be together to keep strong. And these are not just excuses to not be able to do what I’ve always wanted to do. These are my realities.

So where does that leave me and my dreams? I don’t want to wait til I’m 40 before I can see the rest of the world.

But after much thinking (well not really, just about 5 minutes of emo and some tea), I’ve come to realize that there’s really nothing stopping me from doing what it is that I want. Just myself and my lack of creativity and my 10000000 excuses. I’m just lazy.

Maybe I can’t quit my job, sell my things and live a backpacker’s life. At least not yet. But that doesn’t mean I can’t take advantage of my 25-day leaves a year and use them? I keep saying that I’m broke but that’s my fault too. Just last weekend, I bought a ton of books and 2 dresses, and insisted on eating out for the most part of the holiday. And how much did that cost me? And I think my family won’t mind if I’m gone a few days to sort myself out instead of a few months.

I just need to get off my lazy bum, stop complaining and do something.

1. Save. – that pretty much sums up everything that I have to do. Cut back on unnecessary expenses. I have a lot of books that are still in their plastic wrapping so I shouldn’t buy more. I have clothes that I’ve only used once so I don’t need to buy new ones. I pretty much live in my sneakers and my boots so why do I need to buy that pretty black flats I know I will never wear outside the house anyway?
2. Start an Escape Fund (as the sole sisters would put it) – I can’t keep on dipping into my savings for whenever I want to travel. That’s not responsible (for me, at least, given my circumstances). I need to have a separate fund for this. Force myself to work towards a goal, and then reward myself afterwards. And this way, I don’t shirk on my responsibilities at home and yet still have money to do as I please (book the next flight outta here!).
3. Plan – I keep saying I want to go to this place and that. I keep checking flights whenever there’s an airfare sale. I read Lonely Planet articles and guides. And then what? Nothing. I stop at that. I’ve never really gotten around to making an actual itinerary. Plan my finances so I can budget. How much do I need to save? What’s my expected expense? When do I plan on going so I can plan my leaves for that. I used to just buy plane tickets on an whim and say “bahala na” after. But this isn’t sustainable if I want to keep doing this all the time.
4. Talk to my family – make them understand that I need this. For myself. For my sanity. They’ve never been bitten by the travel bug but they understand that I’m at this point in my life wherein I need to explode in a karaoke supernova (TM Ben Folds) and just be out there.

Just 4 things. 4 things that I need to do to get a taste of my dream. Maybe 2 weeks in Vietnam isn’t the same as spending 3 months hopping on trains and buses, exploring the Thailand countryside and then crossing the border to get to Myanmar. Maybe not. But 2 weeks is better than nothing. In 2 weeks, I can still have coffee with friends I’ve met on the road, exchange stories and maybe a few laughs. Have a beer by the beach and review the pictures I took of the architectural marvel I’ve been in just the day before. 2 weeks is enough time for me to see a part of the world. In 2 weeks, I can go rafting in Bontoc and see locals prepare Pinikpikan. In 2 weeks, I can stay in Ilo-ilo and then cross Dumaguete. In 2 weeks, I can taste as many Bicol Express as I want on my way to Donsol. A lot can be done in 2 weeks.

Maybe I’ll want more. Eventually the need to to quit my job and just cross countries in Europe will be harder and harder to curb. Eventually. But I’ll cross that bridge when I get there.

Right now, I’ll take what I can get. Anything to see the world outside of my 4 cornered room.

Who said you can’t have your cake and eat it too? Obviously he hasn’t taken a knife and cut himself a slice.

Haley from One Tree Hill (yes, I am totally in love with that show) once said “write down the things that you can’t say” so I will.

1. I miss my dad. Terribly. I try to keep it together for the sake of my mom and my sister who cry at the littlest things that remind them of my dad. I crack jokes. I try to change the topic. I refuse to dwell on it. And I get by, somehow. One day at a time. But stone cold walls only last so long and mine are crumbling. I miss my dad and I can’t make this dull ache in my chest go away.

2. I’m still confused. I just can’t figure out what I’m feeling right now. One minute I want “creme brulee” and the next minute I just want some simple “jell-o”. And I know wanting “creme brulee” makes sense and I really want it but there’s just something gnawing at the base of my spine that keeps saying that there’s something missing in that “creme brulee” and perhaps I’ll find it in “jell-o”. And to this I say, GAH! All the cliches, the rom-coms, the books, the old diaries – yep none of them are helping at all.

3. I can’t believe it’s still in my head. It doesn’t make sense. It shouldn’t matter at all. I’ve said time and time again that I’m over it. And truth be told, I am. It’s just that, every once in a while, I remember something and that sets me off once again. Why does it matter so much??? “…I still hear trumpets” said the song a friend of mine made me listen to. S is for Slowly, I always say (or at least my friend, Roncee would say).

4. I’m fat. Acceptance. Next stage: Diet.

5. I’m so excited for JAPAN! Goddammit. I know it’s still a couple of months away but I think I’ve pretty much narrowed down the places I really want to go to. Now to prioritize. And to decide whether we spend a day or 2 in Tokyo (we’ll be staying in Osaka). JAPAN! But I haven’t told my sister and my mom yet. I kinda feel guilty leaving them behind again, and spending so much money for this trip.. which leads me to the my next point.

6. Somehow, with my dad dying (him being the breadwinner) and my sister leaving her job in Canada to be with us during these difficult days – I’ve suddenly become the unwilling bread winner. And I’m too selfish for the position. As much as I don’t want to admit it, because it’s silly and it makes me to be such a terrible daughter – I feel quite uncomfortable with having to second guess all of my purchases and financial decisions versus before wherein I can do with my money pretty much anything I want. I don’t hate it. I just need to get used to it, I guess.

7. I think I may be burnt out.

I promise to post something light-hearted soon enough.

Avoid and Evade.

I’ve been told that that’s my default reaction to any problem/issue/whathaveyou that comes my way. Perks of being passive-agressive, I guess.

When my dad died, I refused to talk about it. I deliberately chose to bury all the feelings under work, under other problems (under pressure). I went out a lot. Since my dad died I’ve been to SG, Tagaytay, and spent more time with my friends than I did with my family. Drank more than I used to. And just slept it off during the day. I couldn’t stand being home. I couldn’t stand hearing my mom cry whenever she remembers something about my dad (which was every few hours). I found other things to do, other things to focus on that doesn’t involve thinking of my dad and how he was never coming back.

Maybe this is also why I’m so bad at keeping in touch. At keeping friends close. At keeping relationships alive. Because at the first sign of trouble, I bail. Under the guise of “pa-cool”. I remember guys I dated who showed the first signs of looking the other way (at least that’s how I saw it), I made sure I “lost interest” first. Not replying to texts. Not making the first move to start a conversation. Acting like none of it mattered even though I wanted to punch the shit out of them (aka i wanted to see them and kiss them silly) Passive-aggressive at its best.

I run. I book the next flight out. I go to Ponti nearly every night. I turn of my cell phone and write cryptic one liners on social media platforms. And smile through it all. Fake, plastic, smile.

And what do I get out of all of this? Nothing. No matter how deep I bury the feelings, the problems, they come creeping back up. Slowly, one by one. And some, stronger than ever with an iron grip on an already bruised heart. (how cheesy did that line sound?)

My motto has always been, “make them make the first move, Conway!” yeah. Life lessons from a hockey move as demonstrated in a 90s disney movie. Point is, don’t get hurt. And from experience, I’ve always gotten hurt just by taking that leap, jumping the gun, heart on my forehead. Acknowledging feelings, and acting upon them have gotten me in so much trouble already – I think it’s high time I learned my lesson. And for the past few years, running has always worked. Ignore the feelings until they disappear. When they come back, worry about them later.

I guess I just don’t want to feel anything anymore. I’m tired of getting hurt, being left behind, lied to, dangled on a string (like slow spinning redemption? haha), etc, etc. And that’s how I’ve learned to put on my poker face, my fake, plastic, smile. And run, run as far away as I can from reality and sink into this cave I’ve dug for myself surrounded by alcohol, foreign language, and purple unicorns.

But I think in the process of running, I’ve also forgotten that I’m leaving people behind and they have feelings too. While they’re ready to face the problems with me, get hurt with me, I chose to abandon them just to protect myself. I’m doing to them, exactly what people have done to me which pushed me to take flight. And that’s not fair.

Moral righteousness (is there such a term) tells me to stop running, keep my feet on the ground and be a pillar of support for the people I love just like how they’ve been to me (or at least try to). But the bruises on my heart (haha!) are telling me to fuck this shit and run. I can’t stand being hurt anymore. One more pinch and I’m close to breaking (even though that’s a total exaggeration). The answer should be easy. Even I know which one I should pick. But you would be surprised to find out that this is a struggle for me. Self-preservation vs being part of a team.

No wonder I’m so lonely. Because I continuously choose to be one. But you have to admit, it’s easier being by yourself. You can’t get hurt by the people you open up yourself to, because you don’t open up yourself to anybody.

Haruki Murakami once said “What a difference a day makes” – I don’t know where this was lifted from, maybe from one his books, interviews, etc but to that all I can say is “Indeed”

My dad died last Monday, Feb 13, 2012 due to complications from the medicine administered to him after he had a Heart Attack. I blame the doctors for his death. It was so sudden. One minute he was ok, we were talking, and the next minute he flat lined. And now, whenever I close my eyes all I can see is him on his hospital bed, lifeless. And I can’t get the image out of my head.

I went through Feb 13 to Feb 21 feeling like my life wasn’t my own. Like I was stuck in someone else’s body, living a nightmare and I can’t seem to get out of it. Sometimes I feel like I’m floating. My brain quit functioning properly days ago and my heart just won’t stop breaking.

I am reminded of my dad in every single thing. The empty chair in our dining table, the pair of shoes under the living room sofa that we haven’t touched yet since he died, the chipped paint in my bedroom wall, the empty clay pots in his garden… Every.Single.Thing.

And I still can’t accept it. I still hope that he’d come home tonight or tomorrow from one of his random trips to Quezon laughing at us for thinking he was dead. I still hope I’d finally be able to get out of this body and go back to my own, normal life. I still hope that I’d wake up from this nightmare… eventually.

A couple of my friends who’s had one of their parents pass away told me that this will not be easy. What an understatement.

My sister’s home from Canada and won’t fly out til mid-March. I dread the day that it’ll just be and my mom at home. Quiet rooms, quiet halls and the absence of the smell of coffee at 7 in the morning will hit us with much more intensity than they ever have.

And my question is: How do we move forward from this?

Also: When will my heart stop breaking?

i made this, with my older sister in mind. freezing her buns off in Canada, she likes pretty things… pretty being “pretty practical”, “pretty comfortable” and “pretty awesome”. so if your sister is anything like mine, this might be just for her too.

1. Red Knitted Scarf (asos)
2. Wellingtons (hunter boots)
3. iPad (apple)
4. The Look Book by Erika Stalder (uo)
5. Friendship Bracelet (asos)
6. Amazing Grace Body Spritz (philosophy)
7. Minnetonka Kitty Suede Moccasins (madewell)

wouldn’t you want to be my sister? not that i can afford any of these but at least i’ve got good ideas! haha

With Christmas coming up, I thought I’d help myself by making gift guides for family, friends,people I work with, etc. If this ends up helping anybody else then that’s cool too :)

So this first one is for my mom who’s lazy most of the time but when inspiration hits her, can make awesome jewelry, can cook up a storm, can be fashionable.. and who’s generally a family woman(when she’s not in church, that is hehe)

a jewelry making kit, a quirky chopping board, a snow-scented spritz, and a family photobooth.

So my i told my dad we’ll take a picture. Multiple shots in a row so he can make 4 different faces.

See my dad’s 4 faces.

And of course my mom wanted her own picture as well.

On our way home from having lunch in tagaytay.

Because the weather is so much cooler on your side of the planet, I hope you’re taking good advantage of it. Because these outfits need to be worn without getting weird eyes from people especially during commute. Mahirap pumorma dito tapos sa Masinag ka lang sasakay! haha So ate, make me proud!

except maybe for the last picture, these are all so you!

lovelots,

k

Because it was part of my new year’s resolution to take more pictures and post more blog entries. Let’s do this!

(still posting this because i’m blurred-genic)

(dr. uson the new image model for pilipinas, kay ganda!)

(st. mama)

(st. papa)

Dressing up these days has been a total drag. It’s extra difficult because I can no longer pop into the next room and ask my sister what she thinks about the rags I would be wearing. So whenever I miss her (which is everyday) and I’m clueless about to wear.. I just think… “WWAW” or a “What Would Ate Wear?” which makes deciding pretty easy. Shades of black and grey and white and brown and dark blue are always safe bets.

I saw this picture awhile ago. And this has “Ate Joy” written all over it. From the top of her hair to the tips of her toes.

dear ate,

what would i wear for my first day at Net Booster on Monday?

lovelots,

kax