Archive for ‘Daily Conversations’

03/10/2012

Dear Cryo-Vac Machine, How I Miss Thee

0013 Home from day 120, and my three-months notice is in… “And three months from now would be… When are you leaving?” “June 10. So my last day will be June 9-” “Hang on, you’re leaving June 10, and you want your last day to be the day before you leave?” “…” “Don’t you want to spend time with your family??” “Oh. I mean, yeah, but, you know. I dunno. What?” “Well, I mean, you’re putting in three months’ notice.” “Oh. Yeah.”

Frankly, I’m exhausted. My slip says 10.91 hours. Which isn’t that bad, in all actuality.

Yesterday, I paid a visit to the cryo-vac machine to tell it how much I miss it. “And that’s not weird at all.” – Sam

As I’ve grown older, the world has felt simultaneously bigger and smaller… Bigger because I’ve developed an attachment to places that are impossible to drive to, and smaller as I’ve appreciated more and more just how much of the world I have managed to see for someone so young.

But how’s this for a small world: Since I graduated from MCI, and I’ve gone back mostly for sidebars with Steve, Matt’s sort of taken Bradley’s place in that respect. And note that I use the phrase, “taken Bradley’s place,” and not, “replaced Bradley,” because no one could possibly do that, and there is a difference. But sidebars with Steve these days include Matt, in the manner in which they once included Brad.

I don’t remember exactly when Matt joined the Receiving crew – certainly after I’d left – and frankly, I don’t remember when he came to merit hi and goodbye hugs from me, or what precipitated it; all I know is, when I go and dish out hugs to Billy, Monty, and whoever else I might have any hope of running into, Matt is included. Stevo’s not listed because I don’t dish out hugs to Stevo; Stevo has to be in the mood to dish out hugs to me, which he usually is these days if timed properly, but every now and then…

Anyway, so there I was saying hi to the cryo-vac machine, and Matt was there and we were chit-chatting because I was out to convince him to say yes to dinner on Monday so that Stevo would say yes to dinner on Monday because Stevo wouldn’t say yes to dinner on Monday unless either Matt or Bradley said yes to dinner. on. Monday.

It turns out that Matt was born in St. Louis, ended up in PA at some point in his life, and resided within the Sycamore school district from 6th grade up. I’d discovered two days earlier that he’d gone to high school with Bobby Ghantous, when Bobby because the subject of conversation during a sidebar due to recent texts.

Aaaaand then… upon having convinced Matt to say yes to dinner on Monday so that Steve would say yes to dinner on Monday – which, by the way, was a piece of cake, and Matt is wonderful – I was taking down his number and asked for his last name. Within six letters – out of eleven – it hit me. “Do you have a sister named Katie?!” I haven’t seen Katie since 4th grade, and while we were about as good friends as good friends can go in elementary school, I can’t say I’ve thought of her since we left. And now I hang out with her big brother.

So yes, dinner on Monday. The original group included Josh and Em, but it turned out that they’re closing on the house that night – super excited for them! – and I won’t see them again till the wedding. So it was that there were two open spots and I didn’t think I’d have any luck trying to get a response from Bradley, and Matt was so conveniently accessible, not to mention I do honestly enjoy his company. (Although he asks how I survived Receiving with all the questionable… language… “What? Aurora thrived when she was here.” – Steve) It is to be Martha, Steffy, Steve, Matt, and myself at Local 127, and Steffy has invited a food blogger with whom she has become familiar through the Culinary Smackdown, if I understand correctly.

I was hoping to make it to La Poste and the Brown Dog this Restaurant Week, but it might have to wait until the fall… Oh well. I’m excited for Local 127. I’ve been wanting to go for a while; I wonder if Brian still works there.

Hmm… 0118. I think I’ve officially tired myself out. Time for some sleep before day 121.

02/20/2012

Fried or Fertilized?

The plain fact of the matter is that there is no way to escape the crassness of the industry that I am in. It is not unique to our kitchen or to our school; it is recognized as a part of the culture all around. I don’t like it, I don’t approve of it, and due to Brad and Steve being very wonderful kuyas and flat-out refusing to explain any joke ever made by Chef Potter, a decent amount of it still goes over my head. Regardless, it is inescapable, and Receiving has been at the tame end of my experience.

So when the guys were just having one of their crasser moments during a lull in service, I turned a deaf ear, as is my custom, but when I heard my name…

“Don’t ask Ais that.”
“Yeah, no, I wouldn’t ask Ais that.”
“Wait, DO ask Ais that!”
“What??”
“Yeah, ask her how she likes her eggs.”
“But-”
“Just ask her.”

It took me a few seconds to comprehend the motivation behind Jason’s goading. “Tell him about the duck eggs,” I was instructed. It clicked.

“Yes! Ask me!!”

For that split second of utter confusion on Yards’ face, it was already worth it.

“Aisa… do you like your eggs fried or fertilized?”

Fertilized!” It was too good of an opening. Seriously, I owe Jason. I hope Yards recognized the deliberately attempted note of sheer madness in my voice. But if he didn’t, I think I can safely claim to have thoroughly grossed him out and left him slightly disturbed with my brief description of balut.

“Hang on, you’re ok with eating fetal ducks but you’re not ok with abortion? Are you ok with eating fetal humans??”

That got me ranting on aborted fetuses being used for ‘medicinal’ purposes in China. Somehow we eventually got back to fetal ducks, and how animals don’t go to heaven because animals don’t have souls.

“What makes you think they don’t have souls?”
“Oh, I know they don’t have souls.”
“How?”
“C’mon, ducks don’t have free will-”
“What’s free will?”

02/18/2012

*Pure Shock*

In all my debates, that free will exists has never been called into question in any context save for in direct conflict (or in conjunction with, if you know how that works) with the concept of predestination.

But yesterday, I was faced with a body who in 22 years of life had apparently never even heard of the term, ‘free will.’

“What’s free will?” asked most sincerely, and not quite indifferently, but with just as much sincere curiosity as one might have in inquiring as to the weather in some week of February when one has planned a road-trip up to Pennsylvania. You get my meaning. One wants to know, yet has absolutely no concept of how very great of a matter one is asking about, and therefore cannot even be properly interested to the extent that such a subject requires. Suppose there is a four-foot snowfall expected at your destination and you simply haven’t considered it, because for some crazy reason, it’s 60 degrees over here in what ought to be the middle of winter.

I stopped. I could not immediately formulate an answer. To me, free will is so ridiculously obvious, it has never needed explanation. What else would enable one to reason, to choose, to choose rightly or wrongly as one pleases, to grow in knowledge… Everything around me speaks of free will, from the walls of this house, to the books and papers and musical instruments, the sewing machine, the DVDs, my cell phone, this laptop… Protests and wars and peace and endless conversations on pointless nothings; how on earth to explain without insulting a body?

And the concept of predestination does not deny our ability to reason, and to grow, and to believe in what we will.

But here was an individual who has never supposed that their unique ability to do all these things, as opposed to dogs or dolphins, was indicative of something greater.

How many others in this world get through the first fifth of their life, or maybe even make it through their whole life, without ever even hearing the words, ‘free will’? Maybe talking about it wouldn’t be necessary if it was as obvious as I thought it was, but apparently I’m wrong.

More on this next week…

11/22/2011

Lunch, a Downtown Adventure, Practice Practical Final, MCI reprise, and Weeks 17 & 18

The first thing I told Jason when I walked in to work on Saturday was that Chef Yek had said my translated product wasn’t sweet enough for the mainstream market. He made it sound like that was something I ought to have known =) BLAH. I may have grown up here, but I haven’t quite got the American taste for sweets.

We’re to come in at 7 rather than 8 on the day of our final, and I’m freaking out. I went to MCI today and I found out that all of MCI Operations is invited. I suppose that ought to make me feel better on some level, because at least I’ll know a decent amount of people, but… *sigh*

Stevo’ll be there. I stopped in at Receiving and saw him, but he seemed busy, so I didn’t say anything.

I got my jacket from Jay, went upstairs to hunt for Chef LaSorella and get my shirt from her, chit-chatted with Chef LaSorella, Chef Huller, Chef Myatt… bumped into Chef Kinsella… Chef Huller says she ought to be on the shirt, too, standing in between Chef Myatt and Chef K, pushing them apart =) If I could have just gotten a picture of her when she posed for that brief split-second, I could’ve cartoonified it and iron-transferred it onto my shirt. Lol. Chef LaSorella and I were talking about work, and I told her about Jared asking if she’d taught me how to make toffee, and how he’d said he’d have to give her a call sometime when I said she hadn’t. Of course, not knowing the significance, I’d just taken it, but Chef gave me my comeback for tomorrow, which is to ask Jared why he didn’t go and learn it from her all the years that she was there making it =) I can’t wait.

I also stopped by the Honors room and spent a decent amount of time catching up with Cory and making all sorts of plans for digging out a hobbit hole and discovering the broom closet that no one knows about at UC once his batch joins mine. Good times =) and the markerboard hasn’t been erased since I left!!! Mine and Josh’s and George’s goodbye notes are still there.

So yeah, after wandering around for about 30 minutes, I headed back down to Receiving and bid everyone a happy Thanksgiving, and I really did mean to leave it at that, but Stevo greeted me, then declared that it was time for a sidebar.

It was pouring outside and I thought it looked absolutely miserable, but then Steve smiled and asked, “Isn’t it nice?” and indicated the rain. When I hesitated, he added, “I like it.” And then I realized that I’d forgotten just how much I love standing on that hill, enjoying all the different seasons from the semi-sheltered semicircle that is the dock. Sidebars with Brad and Steve were the best on otherwise miserably-weathered days. We had a nice long talk, it must have been at least fifteen minutes, if not twenty.

I know it’s not yet December, but I’m soooo anxious for January’s potluck… on top of Michelle and Nate being in the same place, to get Stevo and Bradley and Steffy in the same place as well…

Somehow, I haven’t had much Kuya-time at all in the past month. Things came up that kept me from my previously regular Stevo-and-Josh time on Tuesdays. I don’t think I tend to appreciate it any less when it’s fairly frequent or regular, but Kuya-time is always even more terribly refreshing than usual after a hiatus, especially an unplanned one. One of the best characteristics of Kuya-time is the spontaneity of conversation. I wasn’t expecting a twenty-minute sidebar, but we talked about UC and MCI and Dante’s Divine Comedy and Harry Potter and co-op and Texas and mosquitos and Indiana and hunting and deer and and white hair and lunch and work and teachers and people and master’s degrees and mindsets and… other things.

Well, well, moving on to work.

What precipitated the following conversation, I still have absolutely no idea, but here I am, minding my own business, probably singing to myself while prepping on pastry, and suddenly Jared stops at my station and goes, “So, I dated this girl from Denmark once…” Something something about high school and international students followed, which frankly, I didn’t really catch because I was busy trying to look around and figure out who he was talking to without looking as if I wasn’t paying attention in case he really was actually talking to me. When I’d ascertained that I was the only human being in the immediate vicinity and decided that I wasn’t imagining that Jared was looking at me while he spoke, I really couldn’t help cutting in with, “Jared… why are you telling me this?” “Oh. Never mind. Just thought you’d be interested in my life story.” I felt horrible. But he wouldn’t talk about it anymore, no matter what I said. Fail. And I interrupted him. Epic fail.

Jared occasionally snaps his towel at the grill or at the bains sitting next to it at random times on slow nights. I’m just waiting for him to snap his towel at me. Seriously.

Sam: Ais, Yards is looking for you. I don’t know what he wants.
me: Does he have an apple?
Sam: Yeah, now that you mention it, he was holding an apple. Why; does he bring you apples??
me: No, he wants me to cut it for him. Tell him I’ll be up as soon as I can.

Go figure, Sam runs upstairs and starts yelling for Yards to do it himself. I only caught the first bit of it.

me: What did you do?!?!
Sam: I really don’t think I should repeat what I said in front of you.
me: But what if he believes you?!
Sam: Ais, you really think he’d believe me? You’d never use the language I chose.

I guess he told Jason exactly what that was once I was sufficiently distracted. Jason seemed to find it funny.

When I finally finished what I was doing, I went upstairs… only to find that Jared had cut the apple for Yards. “But he didn’t cut it with love, Ais.” Later, still early in service, Jared gave me an apple to julienne for the scallop apps. “See, Jared, look at that; she’s cutting it with love.” Rme.

Fr. Geoff and Marv were at the Panera on Calhoun for lunch a couple Tuesdays ago. Aaron had an exam, unfortunately, and apparently a number of other UC students from St. Max had similar conflicts, so I was one of two students, the other being a senior in DAAP. I couldn’t stay for as long as I would have liked, as I had to head over to Raymond Walters for my afternoon class, but it was a terribly gorgeous November Tuesday, anticipated high in the 70′s, and I stopped by Receiving for half an hour-ish to catch up with Jay. It was just one of those perfectly lovely days where absolutely nothing could possibly go wrong.

I picked up Aaron and Anna Marie on Friday morning. UC holidays equals downtown adventures, and it was a bit on the chilly side, but the sun was shining, and that was about as much as one could hope for. We had brunch at It’s Just Crepes, checked out the Skywalk and Macy’s to keep warm, were the first customers in at Abby Girl Sweets, and finished off our downtown adventures at Findlay Market. Mrs. Ridenour met us entirely by chance in the elevator on our way up to Anna Marie’s room, and joined us for our feast of cupcakes. I’ve never been a huge fan of cupcakes, but those were killer. It’s Just Crepes is awesome. We each got our own, and then we shared the crepe of the month, which was Bananas Foster, and boy was that a work of art. Dojo Gelato is always wonderful, and Abby Girl Sweets was quite the find.

Oh, Matt. First he was complaining that I’d bruised up his arm so badly from all the kicks I threw; now he’s bragging that he beat me up. Silly, silly Matt.

So, I guess I had it coming. Jared randomly said sorry to me the other day as I was walking past, and I stopped and asked, “Whaat…. Why…” “Believe me, Ais, I ask myself that same question all the time.” “But… When I say sorry, I have a perfectly legit reason for doing so-” “In your head, Ais.” “No-” “Yes.” “… I’m sorry…” “Oh geeze.”

Later in the week: “You need to stop being sorry.” “Oh. *pause* Should I… be asking permission to be sorry-” “NO.”

And then the other day, Jared was at the window and Ricky Bobby was at the white fridge behind me, and they were having a conversation over my head about something so I wasn’t paying any attention, and then all of a sudden it registers that Jared is saying, “Sorry… sorry… sorry… sorry…” and I look up from the amuse and find that Jared’s looking at me.

Maybe he will cure me eventually of saying sorry all the time, but I highly doubt that he’ll find me any more tolerable for it.

We went to Music Hall on Wednesday, the restaurant was closed to the public. We were there with Tony’s, Kyoto, Taste of Belgium, JR, and others that I didn’t catch. The best part was that Taste of Belgium had their speed rack of goodies stowed in the back area where we were plating, and sometime in the latter half of the evening, the chef bid us take whatever we liked, soooo…. on top of a hotel pan of duck confit that hadn’t quite worked out the way it should’ve and foie gras that had come back on our cart when things had slowed down somewhat, I had a pumpkin cake pop, lemon tarts, a bunch of chocolate somethings, more cake…

Sam and I were doing the antipasti platters; I was doing the garnishes in the back and he was slicing the meats and plating them at the booth. Chief and Ricky Bobby were plating foie in the back; that was going out on a cart which was really a table on wheels and being followed by servers offering Eiswein. Jared was plating the duck at the booth. I think Adam and others were pouring wine at the booth as well. I had been instructed to keep up with plating garnishes and stop when I reached 250, so I had the Manchego and the membrillo cut and counted after Doug had taken some and I’d told him point-blank to stop or I’d make him. And then I came back to find Jared eating pita and Manchego. “Jared, you, too?? I had those counted…” “I’m starving. I need to eat something or I’m going to faint. You don’t want me to faint, do you, Ais?” “I suppose not, Jared…” “Ok, then.” “So I’m short one?” “No, I’ve had, like… four.” “Oh, brilliant…”

Well, that was fun, and I’ve tons more to share, but I think it’s time to sleep… lol.

Dinner with two of my favorite people ever tonight =)

Peace.

08/27/2011

“Is it a fate baby, Ate?”

The question is, did I know he was waking up, or did he know I was coming?

Mother woke me this morning before she and Yena left for JJ’s, and I just went back to sleep. I don’t know how long I slept for, but I just felt compelled to get up and move to Mom and Dad’s room, and as I walked in, I heard the little one stirring. We reached the edge of the bed at the same time, and up go his little arms.

I guess I didn’t sleep for that long; Mom and Yena were still there, so I danced the little boy around until I heard the garage door. JJ’s opens at 8, so I’m guessing it was 7 something. He seemed pretty himbing, so I chanced to pile pillows up and lie back down. He shifted a three times in the course of the following hour-something, but he let me sleep until five to 9, at which point he woke quietly and wanted to be brought downstairs. Downstairs we went, accordingly, but when we reached the sala, he simply asked where Mother was, heard that she was at JJ’s with Ate Yena, and suddenly turned back towards me and settled himself on my shoulder again. I asked if he wanted breakfast and if he wanted me to go upstairs or stay downstairs, no reply.

Back up the stairs we went, and all the while he was limp. When he’s awake and just wanting to be hugged in that position, he usually swings his legs (sometimes almost throwing me off-balance). When we reached Mommy’s room, I asked again if he wanted to eat, but he seemed asleep, so back to sleep we both went, though he shifted a bit until I started rubbing his back. He let me sleep for another half hour.

It’s been a long time since he fit on my chest.

With his head in the same place as this picture, his feet now reach my knees. He’s not a baby anymore. =( He’s a little person.

This little person can walk 90% of the way around the block without tiring and asking to be carried. We went on a walk a couple days ago, just the two of us, and the first thing that got him really excited was his shadow. The sun was catching us a different angles as we went ’round, of course, and he was forever twisting and turning (because he was holding my hand) to see where his shadow was. “My sadow is fowwowing me?” “Yes, your shadow is following you.” Sometimes we would pass beneath rows of trees. “Oh no! Wew is my sadow?” “Your shadow is hiding. Look! We have to go to where the sun is, so that your shadow will come out.” “My sadow is ovew dew?” “Yes, your shadow is over there.”

Nino always wants to stop when he hears or sees a dog. Except, I couldn’t explain to him about echoes. One dog was barking and his bark would echo. “Dew is two dods?” “No, Nino, there is one dog; that’s an echo.” “Dew is two echo dods?” I’m not experienced enough yet to have enough imagination to be able to explain echoes to a two-and-a-half year-old, apparently.

Whenever he got distracted by pebbles or dogs or flowers and such, I would let him be for a little while, and then tell him that Mother was waiting for us to get back so that he would keep going. I didn’t realize right away that he doesn’t yet have a concept of going around; he kept on wanting to go back the way we came to get back to the house. Oo nga naman, eh! Hahaha. Smart kid. It took a lot of coaxing to get him to keep moving forward.

The best part (or worst, depending on how you look at it) was when we passed a mother pushing her son in a stroller and walking a dog. “Hi doddy! (To me:) Ate, is it a fate baby?” (He can’t say “k”; for those of you wondering, he was trying to say fake.) ”What?? No, iho, it’s a real baby!” “It a real fate baby?” “No, no, Nino! It’s a real baby, a real baby boy!” “No, it a fate baby.” I couldn’t understand where this was coming from. I still don’t. It was funny when they were across the street, but we passed them again when we were closer to home, and this time we were on the same side of the street. Again, Nino greeted the dog, and then asked if it was a fake baby. Why?! I didn’t know how the mother would take it, I was trying so hard not to laugh… And then we got Nino to tell Daddy about the “fake baby” at dinner. “Yeah, it a fate baby.” His use of inflection is absolutely hilarious. So matter-of-fact.

Then, this morning, when he finally did feel like eating breakfast, he was telling me something about Daddy and the car, and I wonder if it was a dream. He told me that Daddy was very angry and he took the car to work, and then Daddy came home, but then the car went to work (by itself? I guess?), and Daddy followed the car (he said Daddy was behind the car), and the car opened and closed by itself.

Oh, Nino-boy.

 

 

 

08/03/2011

Ninoism 3 Aug 2011

Nino’s little heartbeat is so thrilling to feel. He was wondering what I was putting my hand there for, so I took his little hand and pressed it to where he could feel it also. After a few seconds, he pulled his hand away and pulled his shirt up.

Nino: I tan’t see it!

07/08/2011

This is America….

me: … too good to pass up. Everything’s free! Alcohol available for purchase, but I’m not going to anyway, so why not?
mom: Ok. Just don’t drink alcohol.
me: Yeah, Mom, I can’t.
mom: Oh, because you’re driving?
me: No… Mom, because I’m not old enough.
mom: Oh! I forgot.

06/16/2011

Ninoisms 06.16.11

Feeding Nino breakfast, I’ve noticed that he uses something that sounds sometimes like “my” and sometimes like “might,” and in some cases it might actually be “might,” but in other cases, it seems as if he’s using it for “I am” or “I will.”

Nino: My dow (go) to Ate Yena now.
me: You’re not going to eat this?
Nino: No, you eat it. My dow to Ate Yena.
me: Are you going to drink your rice milk?
Nino: No, my drint (drink) it lateh (later).

He didn’t actually leave, though. He was distracted by Migi, who wanted to get his little “Halo guy.” (It’s a figurine.) He got into an argument.

Migi: I want my Halo guy.
Nino: No, it mine Haywow (Halo) duy (guy).

I took the opportunity to remind him of food.

me: Nino, are you sure you don’t want to eat now?
Nino: *sigh* Otay. (Okay.) Might dow to Ate Yena lateh.

After breakfast:

me: Ate’s going to go upstairs, do you want to come?
Nino: Yah, I dow uptayws (upstairs).
me: *seeing that he is carrying lots of toys* Do you want me to carry you?
Nino: No. I haff (have) da (the) Haywow duy and da fiy (fire) duy and da choo choo chwayn (train) and da fiy engine.

I carried him up anyway. At the top of the steps, though, he turned left and I turned right.

Nino: Wew (Where) you doin (going)?
me: To my room.
Nino: Tome (come) bat (back)! *follows me to my room* Wew it da iPod?
me: Uhm, I don’t know where the iPod is.
Nino: *approaches my desk, hunts under my chair and then looks up* “What it dat?”
me: Where? *looks behind laptop*

Nino had seen a DumDum. Ooops. Nino gets the DumDum. Ate takes it away. He doesn’t cry or try to hold onto it, just looks annoyed at me.

me: That’s bad for you.
Nino: But, but, I want it!
me: It’s not good for you, hijo. You can have chocolate ice cream later.
Nino: But, but, I want dat! *starting to get very annoyed*
me: Oh- Oh, look! I found the iPod!
Nino: Wew? Wew iPod?

He’s very easily distracted. Forgot all about the DumDum and didn’t even last ten minutes on the iPod before deciding to go across the hallway to Kuya Paco’s room. LOL.

05/28/2011

More Nino-isms =)

“Dit it my money. Don’t put tape on it. I might be andwy, Ate Yena, weawy andwy.” (Ate Yena made Nino a duct tape wallet for play-money.)

“Dit it a big ship boat. It doin to bye bye bye.”

05/20/2011

ToT, Lunch Collab, Covers, and LOLfest afterthoughts…

I suppose it would help if I went in the order suggested by the title. Or not. xP

Yum yum yum, we kiddies should cook lunch together more often =) I broke down the two chickens, which was good practice… and I discovered that my airline breasts leave a little to be desired, so the plan is to have chicken every Thursday between now and exam week. *sigh* Fortunately that was all that didn’t seem to go as nicely as I would have liked.

Migi and Yena peeled (fifteen!) potatoes between them, and Migi opened the can of tomatoes =) Paco minced five cloves of garlic (with the cleaver), chopped two onions (with the chef’s knife), chopped all fifteen potatoes (with I’m not sure what), and sliced two red bell peppers, about which I have stories.

There were two knives in my new set that I could not foresee myself using for anything at school, so I left them out of my bag and added them to the home collection. I invited Paco to use them on the peppers, cautioning him with my story of how I cut myself with them on the very first day that I brought them to school… after having made it through seven terms of cutting myself on everything else but my [Mercer] knives. Oh, to have gotten a picture of the look on Paco’s face. He was thrilled at how sharp the Saber knives were. He even asked me if he could have the set when I got married or entered the convent or whatever is going to happen to me. (Absolutely not.)

Lifehouse’s self-titled album has met its match in my eyes, and that would be Mat Kearney’s City of Black and White. Aside from being addictive (both of them), I can listen to the whole album without skipping tracks and wanting to cover every single one. Unfortunately, percussion is what makes most of Lifehouse… but attempting acoustic covers of City of Black and White and Annie didn’t seem to go too badly. At any rate, they made it onto youtube.

Yesss, Theology on Tap is back =) Actually, it started three weeks ago, but I only found out last Wednesday and couldn’t make time for Thursday’s session on such short notice. So here I am, playing catch-up on the third week. Oh well! Yesterday’s session was on Cardinal Newman, and I was most kindly accompanied by Anna Marie and Aaron, for which I was extremely grateful.

There are no words to do yesterday justice. Unlike at last fall’s series held at Rafferty’s, there was not a section closed off for ToT; rather, ToT was the main body and they had a section marked for regular customers which was not immediately noticeable upon walking in. So cool!

Fr. Ted Ross is hilarious! and his humor can be dry at times, which means, of course, that it comes up when you least expect it. I wish he’d give a talk at CREDO! but of course he’s needed more at the seminary, so. Still, I do hope we’ll run into him again sometime. I could listen to him for twice as long as we did.

When Miss Martha watched the LOLfest video, she commented that they (the guests) seemed to just fit in with my family. I remembered feeling that way when I was putting the video together and I came across that clip where she picks Nino up and sets him on her lap. It makes me so happy to have friends like Martha and Brad and Josh, that can just come over and play with the kids and talk to Mom and Dad like they’ve been used to my family forever…

I was chatting with Michelle the other day… more like whining detestably to her… about what an unwelcome adjustment I’ll be subjected to in three weeks’ time. I’m so terribly dependent on Martha and Brad’s company; I’m still not used to not seeing them every single day, though it’s been a term or two since that was the case, and I still seek out their company before anyone else’s, except perhaps Steffy and Stevo when they’re around. I know, I know, I’m overthinking it. And I’ll make new friends and have just as much fun as before, I suppose. Perhaps what I object to most is the inevitable abruptness of it all. Three more weeks and it will just… happen…

05/18/2011

Noncommittal

Walking through the halls on my way out, talking to a new kid (… kid… yeah… this guy’s gotta be closer to 28 than 20…) used ‘noncommittal’ in a sentence, behold what ensued:

New Kid: “Non-what?”
me: Noncommittal…
NK: … Do you mean *notevensurewhathesaidbutitsurewasn’twhatIsaid*
me: No… I mean noncommittal.
NK: What’s that?
me: You don’t know what noncommittal means… (I promise I wasn’t trying to be mean or arrogant, I was honestly just… bewildered… Like I explained above, NK’s not really a kid at all, so cut me some slack, ok?)
NK: Well, not the same meaning you do, I guess.
me: … How many meanings are there?!
NK: You like beating around the bush, don’t you?

*sigh* I am officially exhausted… tired and hungry and totally useless and no I’m not listening to MCS. Why am I blogging about this? I don’t know. I think I just… felt like it…

04/30/2011

Mommyisms and [bilingual] quotes from the 2-yo…

I might need to make two new categories just for those.

Recent Mommyisms include:

‎”Ma, should I trim the fat?”
“What? No! Masarap pag may taba; there’s no point in making adobo for guests if you’re going to trim it!”
“Oh, well…”
“That’s what you do for hospital patients, not guests!”
“…”
“These are mommyisms.”

“Nino, stop killing Mommy!”

There was one more which I cannot recall at present and which will continue to evade me and torture me for ages and then it will come back to me sometime when I cannot get to a computer before forgetting again. Ugghhh LOL. And the latest from the Nino-boy:

“Nino want pay bat-tet-baw.” (Nino wants to play basketball.)
*Ate follows Nino to garage. Nino spots basketball stuck behind Kuya Migi’s bike.*
“Oh no! We need tan-daw Tuya Midi bite away.” (Oh no! We need tanggal Kuya Migi bike away.)

I love how he uses ‘tanggal’ and then uses ‘away’ like he meant to say ‘take away’ in the first place, and of course he doesn’t yet realize that ‘tanggal’ implies the ‘away’ part. Cutee.

02/09/2011

Pre-Spring Cleaning

Trying to empty my drafts folder on here of its DRAFTS! (big d-u-h?), but some of them, I think, are still worth posting unfinished (and I’m only doing these for the ones that I really don’t foresee having the time or motivation to actually finish). From 21 down to… 6! =) yayayyyyayayayayyy! lol

11/11/08 – Keeping the Faith

I was hashing things out with Devin this one night in the car on our way home from… something. Lol. I forget. But anyway…

I’ve talked to graduates of “Catholic” colleges, and I’ve been uneasy inside… but I couldn’t really figure out why till Dev and I talked it over. What’s been bothering me off is the failure to give credit where credit is due.

Basically, the way these graduates are selling these colleges to kids, you’d think that if they hadn’t gone to that college, they would have ended up completely lost, in terms of Faith and morals. But I am utterly convinced that if these people had not come from the families that they did indeed come from, it wouldn’t have mattered if they went to a “Catholic” [or a Catholic] college or not.

I have no doubt that college can have a positive effect on one’s Faith. But that goes for anything, doesn’t it? If we view something correctly, unite whatever it is, whether joy or suffering or something in-between, to Christ, then really, anything can have a positive effect on our Faith. I’m not saying their college experience did absolutely nothing for these people.

11/14/08 – The Silver Lining?

My assigned reading for this week was Wulfstan’s Sermo Lupi ad Anglos. Talk about scary.

“… Zealously understand also that the Devil has led this nation astray too much now for too many years and that there has been too little loyalty among the people — though they speak well! And too many injustices have ruled in the land, and there have not always been many people who have thought about the remedy as eagerly as they should, but daily one evil has been increased after another and unrighteousness has been exalted and many laws broken all too widely throughout this nation… we have earned these miseries that now weigh us down…
“… what is due to God has faded away too long within this nation in every region. And the laws of the people have worsened all too much… And widows have been wrongfully forced to take a man, and too many have been much impoverished and humiliated. And the poor have been sorely betrayed and cruelly deceived…. And infants have been enslaved through savage legal abuses far and wide throughout this nation… God’s law is hated and his teaching scorned…
“… And also in this country there are all too many lapsed apostates and hostile church-haters and savage people-haters and far and wide despisers of just divine laws and of Christ’s servants, and derisive fools everywhere in teh nation, who hasten into those things that God’s commandments have forbidden and for the most part into those things that always belong by right to God’s law…
“… Here there are manslaughters and kin-slaughters and priest-slayers and monk-haters. And here there are perjurers and murderers. And here there are harlots and child-killers and many foul adulterous fornicators… And we are by no means ashamed of this, but we are greatly ashamed to begin atonement as the book teaches.”

That could have been written today. Yes, rather harsh, but if we are honest with ourselves, totally true.

I’ve been having this conversation with my mom, and I’ve been musing over things when I’m alone in my room. Too little too late. The Faith didn’t become what it is overnight. It wasn’t watered down and dumbed down and neglected only recently. What we have become is a result of years and years and years of what they call ‘relevance’.

1/12/09 – 4th Annual YFC Cinci Youth Camp

Perhaps a more appropriate title would be The Confessions of a Crazy Camp Co-Leader.

I think the parents all agree that these past few months have killed me. In all honesty, I’ve thrived on it all. Yes, I’ve been stressed and moody. I’ll have to work on thriving on something without being stressed and moody. Not trying to make excuses for myself, but I actually didn’t realize I was so moody… I mean, I knew I was stressed, but I didn’t realize that it showed so much besides the fact that I’m finally dealing with teenage acne (oh, yeah, before November, I didn’t know what getting acne from stress was like). Apparently there was more to it than that. I was on the phone with Paolo after Camp… Monday night/Tuesday morning, and I started the conversation explaining how Mum had held me hostage for some time gaming before finally letting me use the phone, hilarious… Anyway — “You know, Ais, you’re very obviously not stressed about Camp anymore.” “… What do you mean?” “You haven’t laughed like that in a while.” I told Mum what he’d said the next morning. “Sorry to burst your bubble, Ais.” “I thought I was hiding it pretty well, Mum?” “No, Ais… you wear your heart on your sleeve.”

*sigh* I’ve heard the mommies were telling the kids that they’d been wearing me out. Bless their hearts. It was tiring. And I’m not 100% satisfied with this past weekend. Haha, yes, yes, perfectionist me, there were parts of it that simply didn’t suit me the way they turned out… but whatever, it’s over now, and I don’t look to be doing it again anytime soon, by heaven. Let the younger ones have their chance, I shall enjoy watching them all the more for what I’ve witnessed.

We’ll put it this way. There was a lot of what Kuya Vin called ‘legwork’ for me.

I left Facebook halfway through August.

Let’s see… 1289 emails since I was asked to deal with all of this. That was… September 13th.

God is amazing. I began the course on Anglo-Saxon literature on September 14th and completed the course four days before Youth Camp. Who knew that English courses would be a source of strength and counsel for someone attempting to co-lead a Youth Camp? It was wow. We addressed the virtues of Faith, Trust, Hope, Righteous Pride, Prudence, and Generosity in the lives of great Anglo-Saxon warriors. I learned again the need to have a correct understanding of suffering, the importance of remaining detached from the world, the reality of the Spiritual Battle that is entwined with the physical.

We didn’t have any prep meetings in September because the CLS was going on every Friday night. Looking back, I think God was trying to form me through that English course. Throughout the month, the hot topic between me and my closer friends was the upcoming election. I’m thankful that we didn’t know how it would turn out… we had so much hope… September 20, we had a ToB session. September 21, I was able to organize a Sisters’ HH at Gabe’s house at the same time as the Fraternal. September 24, I established the YFC Cinci Yahoo Group. September 25, I sent out my first invitation to Youth Camp; that was to Erin. September 26, FOCA first came to my attention. September 27, we had another Sisters’ HH at Matt’s house right before the ToB session. September 29, we had choir practice with Tita Chato. (Wow, I didn’t realize my month was so full…)

October… 2. The Debate. Between Palin and Obama. Oh geeze. And the CLS continued on Friday nights. October 4, I sent out an invitation to the homeschoolers, and attended Sycamore Homecoming. I left for AZ on Wednesday, October 8, spent a week there (which I have a very long blog post on), and came back October 15th, an experienced traveler :D with very tired feet. October 17, we had the CLS graduation.

2/04/09 – The Ladies get to wave their swords around, too, you know.

There’s a song, Someday You Will Be Loved by Death Cab for Cutie… and it seems to me a rather sad mix… of truths… but also of you-wish-es.

I once knew a girl
In the years of my youth
With eyes like the summer
All beauty and truth
In the morning I fled
Left a note and it read
Someday you will be loved.

I cannot pretend
That I felt any regret
Cause each broken heart
Will eventually mend
As the blood runs red
Down the needle and thread
Someday you will be loved

You’ll be loved you’ll be loved
Like you never have known
The memories of me
Will seem more like bad dreams
Just a series of blurs
Like I never occurred
Someday you will be loved

You may feel alone
When you’re falling asleep
And everytime tears
Roll down your cheeks
But I know your heart belongs
To someone you’ve yet to meet
Someday you will be loved

Oh geeze, the guy vs. girl wiring. It’s written all over the deliciously satisfying repeats of chorus. Yell ‘em out, why don’t you!!! or why don’t I =) while marching around, cleaning the kitchen and doing laundry and whatnot, looking pathetic and morose.

But I digress. Uhm… and I shall continue to, depending on how you look at it.

Hey, I applaud the dude. “I know your heart belongs to someone you’ve yet to meet.” Yes, yes, recognizing that is the first wonderful step, good for you.

I’m sure all ladies at some age or another dream of their knight in shining armour, the one who will ride in and defend them from all manner of evil, etc. etc.

I, for one, haven’t given that dream up for a fairy tale… but, ladies, we’ve our own battles to fight, too, on behalf of our handsome princes.

We, as Brothers and Sisters in Christ, have an obligation to each other to guard and protect both our own hearts, and each others’… which, mental note, could mean guarding and protecting someone from yourself.

Brian Butler, in the ToB for Teens, shares of his friendship with a girl, a girl whom he describes as having loved him more than any girlfriend he’d ever had. But they were never together, and they’re happily married to other people, and are still the best of friends. Did he never have feelings for her? Sounds like he did, the way he put it, fairly straight-up. So what happened?

Let’s take a look at guy vs. girl wiring.

Say a person is called to marriage, either to another human being, or to the Church. Whichever — or rather, whomever — it is, his or her heart belongs to someone. The question is, would you like to marry someone whose heart has not been entirely yours? who has only half a heart to give, or pieces of one broken from past relationships?

It’s totally natural and normal to have feelings for people that you probably won’t end up with. But is that any call to abuse them? If your future spouse is out there, don’t you want to be guarding your heart for them? and don’t you hope that wherever they are, the people around them are guarding their heart for you? Don’t you  hope that you’ll both have as whole hearts as possible to give each other when you finally meet up? Sounds like a pretty crazy dream, a pretty crazy hope. But it’s totally possible, if we just take the initiative to live out our obligations.

Guys and girls, being wired differently, have different battles to fight, and different things that they need to be protected from.

Mary Beth Bonnaci, in  Real Love, tells of a survey repeated several times with many different people — guys and girls are asked to make two lists; qualities to look for in someone to date, and qualities to look for in someone to marry. The results, she says, hardly ever vary. With women, the two lists are more or less identical. But with guys, it’s a whole different story. Their date-quality list doesn’t match their wife-quality list.

So heads-up, this is entirely normal. It’s the way guys are wired. But what that implies, then, is that the way girls are wired tends to make them much more serious much earlier on.

Maybe girls today sow their wild oats? because of how much the culture has changed, I wouldn’t be surprised — but I’ve only ever heard of the phrase used in regards to men.

If girls even consider dating ‘casually,’ then how much more casual is it normally for the guy? at least up until a certain age, assuming they get tired of the fling lifestyle, if they ever really indulged in it in the first place. But go back to that song; “I cannot pretend that I felt any regret, ’cause each broken heart will eventually mend.” Are the guy and the girl on the same page? That would be ideal. But science says that, more often than not, at least in the teen/early-twenties years, a girl is more likely to be unconsciously giving her heart away [or consciously] prematurely, and the guy is… well, not.

I suppose that’s why girl’s crushes get so extreme. It’s almost as if her emotions are invested in a situation always on a level higher than it ought to be… like… oh, what did Elinor say?  “You think I did not feel so very much? … I’ve suffered all the punishment of an attachment without enjoying any of the advantages.”

2/08/09 – *smiles*

Some things that made me smile recently:

  • grapefruit + salt ~ a love for which I inherited from Papa :D
  • thumb :: hand; hand :: arm ratio ~ Nino was holding my thumb while sleeping, and I found it funny that his four fingers around my thumb span the length from my knuckle to my fingernail; similarly, while he’s got his fingers wrapped around my thumb, I have my fingers wrapped around his arm, and my four fingers span the length from his elbow to his wrist. xD
  • a teaspoon of amaretto in my hot chocolate
  • watching/listening to Daddy play play with Nino

6/02/09 – I don’t want to be in a battle. But waiting on the edge of one I can’t escape is even worse.

Complete with Scottish accent, mind you.

But I digress.

I could almost wish that it were a physical one, rather than what it is — an emotional one. It would be nice to rip a pillow apart and have a bag to throw myself against just now. I really don’t want to be here. I didn’t want to come back. I walked into my room and yelled silently inside, “WHOA, I hate my room.” Living minimalist across the street from the Adriatic for three months taught me the true definition of ‘purge.’ I thought I knew before I left, but what a wake-up call, coming back. Nate says I’m having a culture shock. Maybe I am. Eggs here are dead. Balsamic vinegar and mozzarella di bufala cost an arm and a leg compared to home — yes, I’ve gotten comfortably used to calling Pescara that. I got comfortably used to many things. Among them were: no microwave; limited internet; snail-mail; limited communication with friends and family; tile floors; no rice cooker; no english TV (not that I ever watched it to begin with); … I’ve missed people, but I haven’t missed the place. And I haven’t missed anyone enough to want to come home — except Mama and Papa

It’s always easier to leave than to be left behind.

9/06/09 – Eating with your hands is an art.

In Bento Box in the Heartland, Linda Furiya tells of the way her father ate, which she [at an elementary-school-girl age] found very embarrassing (and was actually one of the reasons she never invited friends over from school). She describes how he would put the whole bone of whatever meat they were having in his mouth and work it with his tongue and teeth until it was completely clean before he spit it out onto his plate. It was apparently a skill that she would not have been proud to mimic.

All of my Pinoy elders possess this skill. All my life, I have been told to simot/said (that is sa-ED, two syllables). To leave not a single piece of meat or a single grain of rice. To think of the people who are starving and must dig through the garbage for their food, and not take the food on my plate for granted.

While I have a harder time with this at restaurants where I cannot choose my serving size, I am proud to say that at home, my family sometimes tease me, asking if I’ve licked my plate, too, because it looks as clean as it did when it came out of the cupboard — they exaggerate, and I do not! lol. But if there’s no sabaw (broth) with my kanin (rice) and ulam (whatever-goes-with-my-rice [that would be my translation, because my ulam is anything that isn't rice, and that could mean meat, fish, veggies, soup, broth {oh, yes. Sometimes I simply decide to have rice and broth, nothing else}]), I am proud to say that I am capable of leaving a very clean plate.

So here we are at the park having a picnic with lots of family on a Saturday, and I’m proud to say my tilapia bones are clean and shiny on my plate, but the KFC bones need some work… I’ll thank you random park people not to stare as you walk past with distaste plainly written on your faces. If you can look at us like that for how clean we leave our plates, then you clearly have no concept of poverty. Maybe I don’t, either — my life has been an easy one — but I’ve seen enough cardboard houses stacked under the highways back home to be properly ashamed of throwing my plate into the trash half-full.

Well, I think that was a sufficient intro to my weekend… let me see…

Let’s go back to Friday, August 21st. Mother made super yummy yummy chocolate zucchini muffins. I wrapped yummy yummy avocado and brown rice sushi. Nagsaing ako, and mother made bistik. Oh, and she made smoothies!!! We left the house in record time — less than half an hour after the time Daddy had originally set!!! Very proud of ourselves.

Nino slept, we feasted on Doritos and smoothies, dinner was.. well, everything else I listed above =) the kids watched Treasure Planet and I alternated between watching, sleeping, eating, and listening to my iPod in no particular order. We all had dinner at the same time, but I slept almost immediately after we left, and started my snacktime later than everyone else when the Doritos were more than half gone, I only watched a third or less of the movie due to playing Point of Extinction and King of Wishful Thinking and other delightfully upbeat *down* songs and wallowing in the beautiful blue sky, oh, and yes, I was appreciating the strength of my new glasses which surprisingly did not make my head hurt at all — I’m quite used to them now — and staring happily at the outlines of the individual leaves that I could now make out on the trees rushing by.

We got to Mama’s at around… well, before midnight? I’m pretty sure. OH, we passed this one church, I think it was Presbyterian, celebrating its 140th anniversary. I was half-awake, I think. At first, I thought, oh, that’s nice, that’s a long time. And then I woke up and thought. Wait, what? Only 140 years? That’s so… sad… I can name a Church that has 2000 years and then some to its credit, didn’t you know? =) Nino had just woken up when we arrived, pero sumama agad kay Mama. We feasted on arroz caldo and sushi, of course, before going to bed. I went to sleep at around 1AM Cinci time. Ninong was still on his laptop when I fell asleep.

do you embrace your faith or are you a cafeteria catholic who picks and chooses

catholicism requires a more radical committment than we may like

catholicism is hard fair hting to think

more important ot be part of the minority who has jesus or the majority of compromises

that in the eucharist we receive the body and blood soul and divinity of our lord … that abortion is always a sin… that living together comes after marriage not before… the contraception in marriage is an evil…

4/28/10 – the hit be double

Wow… well, today, I caught up on eight posts on Courtney’s blog, and am currently working on the 128 posts that I’m behind on at American Papist (I’ve brought it down to 97 ), and I don’t know what God’s trying to tell me, but there’s just too many posts hitting way too close to home. It’s starting to get to me.

And of course, as those of you who know me well have sometimes remarked on, Aisa’s mind goes off in tangents that sometimes take a while to follow, and Aisa in face-to-face conversation often switches from one topic to another at an alarming speed, which wouldn’t matter so much if the topics were related, but they’re usually not…

At any rate, bear with me. This is just Aisa…. brain dumping.

I found this article on Courtney’s blog, and then again on American Papist.

Besides the very obvious issue at hand — that of the conscience clause not being upheld — there’s a line here that refuses to leave me alone:

“I emigrated to this country in the belief that here religious freedom is sacred,” Cenzon-DeCarlo said.

My debates with Kuya Jhun from three and a half years ago came back to me.

4/29/10 – Samson

So. There’s, like, these guys that I know.

Mom: I just realized I have a thing for guys with long blonde hair.
Dad: Too late.

5/05/10

My morning began with pit bulls.

5/24/10

1348 ~ As I begin this post, I haven’t decided on a title yet.

I woke up feeling not too great today. So here I am at home, sniffling and trying to drink lots of water and stay active and wondering if I’m only imagining this whole feeling warm thing. There’s that saying that if you act sick, you’ll feel sicker. It’s so true. I’ve got a long list of things to take care of before the day is over. Yes, rest is on there, but after getting up, taking a shower, and more or less being ready to step out the door, I ended up sleeping in until lunchtime.

Nino greeted me with a hug =) Lunch was delicious, and I’ve had at least three cups of veggies already. I’ve gotten a load of laundry going. It’s nice to rediscover how therapeutic laundry is. And now I shall continue cleaning my room… currently listening to Jeremy Camp’s Let It Fade =) On my list for today is to blog a list of things I am thankful for, something I have not done in a while and that I feel would be both spiritually and physically beneficial.

  • #1 ~ My family =) I love being the oldest of five. I love having parents who are open to Life. I am thankful for my Mama and Papa. I still sleep with my grandparents when we visit them. I have chosen to retain that privilege. I woke up at around 3AM Saturday morning and turned to see Mama hugging Papa. I lay awake for a bit meditating on what Deacon Madz said about how the greatest vocation crisis today is not to the priesthood, but to marriage. Mama and Papa just spent their 44th wedding anniversary in the Holy Land. I praise God for the example and testimony of Mama and Papa and Mom and Dad in the Sacrament of Matrimony.

1428 ~

  • #2 ~ Devin =) I’m staring at a certain framed sheet of blue paper hanging right in front of me, above my desk. Our friendship has been one of God’s biggest blessings to me, one that He has allowed me to keep for very nearly nine years now, and still going! I praise God for Dev, and for her whole family.

1642 ~ I remember reading today’s meditation from In Conversation with God while we were in Italy last year. I remember focusing on the paragraph that reads,

“The filial disposition of the gift of piety is seen also in our readiness to ask again and again like needy children until we are granted what we want. In prayer, our will is identified with the Will of our Father, who always wants what is best for his children. This trust in prayer makes us feel secure, unwavering, daring; it dissipates anxiety and the unease that comes from depending solely on our own strength, and helps us to be serene in the face of difficulties.”

This passage has a new meaning for me, now. The difficulties I face now are nothing like I would have supposed they would be a year ago. That is such an interesting thought. But today, in this year, the lines that catch my eye are,

“Piety towards others leads us to judge them always with kindness which walks hand in hand with a filial affection for God our common Father. It disposes us to forgive easily any offences received, even very painful ones.”

Pray for me, please. Forgiveness is something I am struggling with at the moment. It is not so much a constant anger or disquiet, but rather, I am led to think for significant lengths of time that I have forgiven and am at peace, and then a little thing will spring up quite unexpectedly, a reminder in some unanticipated form, that will awaken whatever it was I thought I had put aside. I keep hearing… I wonder if you ever loved me just for who I was / when the pain came back again like a bitter friend / it was all that I could do to keep myself from blaming you. It’s also strange to not know who I have not forgiven for what sometimes.

~ seven days later ~

2050 ~ I was off for a considerably longer period of time than I’d anticipated. I suppose I ought to be preparing that prep sheet for tomorrow, but it shouldn’t take me that long, and I’m procrastinating.

My three days off were a wake up call, I was telling Mom and Jana… they were a reminder of why I have no ambitions to be a career woman. I spent my three days resting, but also cleaning, doing my old chores like laundry, playing with Nino, and overall just having a good time with the family. I know it won’t all be unicorns and rainbows, but

7/21/10 – I’m trying to ignore the pastries.

I’m sitting here at Bakery Hill at these new tables that are actually near an outlet and that have their back to the Bakery. Hence the title.

Expect a ton of randomness right about now.

I haven’t blogged in AGES.

I have also grown considerably more and more skilled in stating the obvious.

It’s only the fourth week of the term, but I am totally ready for this summer to be over. Basically, I’m taking a bunch of ‘easy A’ classes, and all they’re doing is trying my patience – with the exception of Cooking 5.

I enjoy my Kung Fu class. But every week, I like the technique less and less. Nate says that I should look on the bright side; at least I’m training. But this isn’t my old stubbornness over staying true to one school. Ok, maybe it’s partly that, but not all. It’s also the plain logic behind the techniques. A perfect example – in I guess what would be the equivalent to front stance, my front foot is to be turned in, such that my knee follows, thus supposedly protecting the groin. Unfortunately, I argue that it is ten times more important for my foot to be in a position which ensures stability, aka foot pointing forward, because it’s the easiest thing in the world to take a six-inch step sideways and completely nullify the supposed effectiveness of my front knee. And I’m in no position to keep my stance no matter where I get hit; turning my foot inwards throws me completely off balance. If someone tries to shove me, down I’ll go. I also do not like being told that the stance which I have originally been trained to take in sparring is stupid. I argue that you cannot maintain a cat stance 100% of the time in a fight, and you will have to, at some point, take up my ‘stupid’ fighting stance in order to transfer your weight from one foot to the other, which I do believe is actually very necessary when sparring. So… how about I just stick to my normal fighting stance and constantly shift my weight from one foot to another so that I’m always ready, like I was originally taught to? Ok, ok, end sarcasm. Nate’s right. It is good to be training again. And I guess I need a class to continue to train me in the art of biting my tongue. Last term’s was, of course, Cooking 4.

8/24/10 – I fell in love with NorCal.

With the weather, to be more specific.

Paco, Daddy and I left for the airport on Thursday morning, after roughly four hours of sleep on my part. I had on a sweater and jeans for the plane, but I had no idea I’d be needing either in NorCal. No huge issues getting through security and to the gate; waiting was the most trying time, naturally. We ended up playing ungguyan and pekwa and splitting a breakfast sandwich. I slept pretty much the whole of that first leg.

I thought we’d have a two hour stopover, but it ended up being tight, and we made it to our next gate with only six minutes to spare. As it turned out, the flight was full, and several people were having ticket issues… there was a long line of people who didn’t have seat numbers or something? so we ended up having time to grab something to eat really quick, and we were in the fourth loading zone, into the bargain. Whatever place it was we grabbed food from was apparently one of those everything-organic places, and I know that doesn’t mean much these days with government regulations, but it was a small margin of comfort… compared to where we’d gotten breakfast that morning… Oh. my. gosh. I suppose it’s a good thing, but also somewhat annoying… being a culinary student and shuddering as you watch the line, wondering how long the lids have been left off of the cheese, even if they’ve deli papers in between and on top. Blah. But our lunch place was nice. Very nice. And our lunch was delicious. I had a grilled chicken and spinach panini, and Paco had a ham, egg, and cheese croissant. Paco’s came with hash browns and mine came with a salad. I didn’t have time to take pictures. I slept most of our second leg, too.

When we’d checked in, the kiosk had informed us that the current temperature at our final destination was 57. YIKES. When we landed, it was 66. There was a light breeze, and the sun was shining, and the heat was nicely dry and not in the least bit humid.

We took the bus to the light rail station. All I had were $20s, and when we got my ticket first, I had a slight scare… I thought it had paid me back in tokens when I saw the coins coming out. What the heck was I going to do with $18 worth of tokens?! but upon closer inspection, it turns out they were dollar coins. Paco was THRILLED. I was less so, particularly because I had never heard of the person on the front of the first five that I turned over. Yes, I am that bad at history. But c’mon, do YOU remember Millard Fillmore and anything significant that he did when were learning about the *important* US presidents? (Please say no? because I don’t…) We bought Paco’s ticket and inspected the fine print and looked around the station for a map and didn’t find one. As it was, we ended up getting on the wrong one. I was having too much fun to be really concerned, but I had Paco check the map above and across from us. We got off two stops later and waited for the one that went the other way… which was about three seconds after we’d gotten off the first.

We had a good fifteenish, twenty minute ride. Gorgeous weather, my goodness. Forgive me, but I was so insanely thrilled at how many Pinoys there were everywhere. And I saw a Filipino restaurant that I wanted to go back to – goodness knows we had time – but we didn’t.

God had provided thus far, and I was praying that the Hyatt would not be hard to find… We got off at Great America and, lo and behold, there was the Hyatt right across the street from the station. Praise God.

I had foreseen possible complications with the front desk… Our instructions concerning the reservations were very vague. I suppose I ought to have had the… maturity? to panic slightly, but I was walking on air the second we stepped off the plane, so I didn’t even have the sense to call Mum and Dad while things were being sorted out. As it turned out, we did not have reservations at the Hyatt for Thursday night, and the person who had told me I would was not answering their phone. I called Ate Mary, but she was in a meeting, as I found out later. I did get a hold of Tito Leo, but that was not going to help me much, since they weren’t there yet, anyway. The front desk was extremely helpful and got me the number of the CFC contact they’d been working with. They even offered to call her for me, but I said it was alright. By this time, we’d been sitting around in the lobby of the Hyatt for almost an hour, and they’d been so terribly accommodating, asking if we’d like snacks or water, both of which we declined as we had almost two boxes worth of granola bars in my backpack. I called the number they’d given and had things sorted out within ten minutes. We did have reservations for that night, but at a hotel two stoplights down on Great America.

I called the Avatar hotel and found out that the shuttle had just left for SJC. They said it would be along for us in about half an hour. It ended up being closer to an hour, but that was ok… because we bumped into people from New Jersey who were in the same predicament, and they knew Vince, into the bargain. I texted Vince to let him know I’d met his friends.

The Avatar is COOL! Hahaha. Nope, no blue humanoids… just nice Pinays at the front desk… anyway… The first thing you see when you walk in is a glass case of old toy robots. Intense. As Michelle observed, the place looked a little sketchy from the outside, but the rooms were, in a word, fun. You know how modern can be totally overdone? This place had it just right. The furniture was brightly colored - neon pinks and blues and greens – and the sheets were

Before we share, let us all keep in mind that this is moreso a prayer than a song. Each line was truly voiced from the Holy Spirit. It was a blessing to be led by Him through music. As the lyrics fell into place, we envisioned the many faces of sisters around the nation. Though all our stories are different, this song represents what brought us together as a Sisterhood in the first place. It represents that special longing for Christ that is within our hearts as women of God. Let this be your prayer to Him. <3

ps. if you want the actual file of the lyrics/chords just message me your email. :)
pss. tag/share this with other sisters!

————————————————–

“A Sister’s Prayer”

Amaj7: x09999 or x02120
Emaj7: 079897 or 022100
E7: x76770 or 020100
A: x02220
Am: x02210

Intro (x2): Amaj7 – Emaj7

Amaj7 Emaj7
|—————-9———-7———|
|—————-9———-9———|
|———–9—-9———-8———|
|–9h11———-9———-9———|
|—————-0———-7———|
|————————————-|

Verse 1:
Amaj7 Emaj7
IT STARTS WITH ME TODAY
Amaj7 Emaj7
WHEN YOUR GRACE FELL LIKE THE RAIN
Amaj7 Emaj7
I’M GIVING UP, I’M POWERLESS
Amaj7 Emaj7
BUT LOVING YOU MAKES ME THE BEST

Verse 2:
Amaj7 Emaj7
YOUR TIME CAN ONLY TELL
Amaj7 Emaj7
YOUR WILL FOR YEARNING HEARTS
Amaj7 Emaj7
MY SPIRIT LONGS FOR MORE
C#m B C#m-B-A
GOD YOUR LOVE GIVES ME REST

Chorus:
Emaj7 E7
THIS IS MY PRAYER
A Am
TO BE HUMBLE, TO BE PATIENT, AND KIND
Emaj7 E7
OH LORD, YOU KNOW MY HEART’S DESIRE
A
SO TRANSFORM ME, LORD GOD MOLD ME
Am Amaj7
TO BE HOLY, A TRUE WOMAN OF GOD

9/14/10 – seven minutes before class…

Brad: Oh you kids. You make me so angry. ANGRY. I will destroy all of you. ALL of you.
Joe: *takes red pen out of Brad’s front pocket and throws it on floor at Brad’s feet*
Brad: *curses* *grabs highlighter from pen jar and draws it across

04/29/2010

I can’t fall asleep and it’s all your fault.

Oh, KUYA. I miss them a lot. And that’s still my favorite song by them or anything they became, even more than Carnival.

I promise it’s not all doom and gloom… there are a million things I’ve wanted to tell about the past few weeks and the good times totally outweigh the downs. But the downs need out, too. So here’s the mish-mash in no particular order:

The Obi-Wan Kenobi of MCI

Chef Sheldon was truly our “only hope” throughout Receiving’s 1N12K prep. God bless him. I don’t know when or where it started or who started it, but I came in for work last Thursday and that’s what everyone was calling him =) He’s the best.

“… happy as we were, we can never go back.”

Easter meant a return to the Honors Room. Hm. Now… Nobody ever owned up to having drawn that next to my note… But then again, I haven’t really been asking around. It amused me. I have a couple guesses, though… most definitely one of the guys.

Being Schooled In Everything Street

Stevo and Brad; the Dream Team. Speaking of being amused, Kevin was down in Receiving being his usual annoying self and giving me a hard time… It was a Wednesday night, Brad and I were closing up and Stevo was skipping Spanish class. After Kevin walked out, I was all *grrrrrr* and Stevo started going on about how I shouldn’t take that from him and how I had to be harsh and how he and Brad were “schooling you in everything street, Aurora!” … Epic fail. I said something to the effect that the “schooling” was ineffective because I simply found everything amusing rather than taking any of it to heart. Brad and Stevo are so funny when they’re staring and speechless. Then again, they may not have been speechless, they may simply have been thinking how hopeless I was. Probably. So amusing =)

Slack Those Beef Cheeks

Kinda hard to do when they come in a block like this…

… like a huge blood popsicle thingy… Oh, look, wordpress doesn’t recognize “popsicle.” Or “wordpress,” for that matter! Anyway.. Dan dared me to lick it. Fortunately, I’ve never been one for taking dares. So the beef cheeks… yeah. They were slacked… somehow. Jay and Beth and Julz figured that it. It was so amusing, though… no plastic or anything. Just peeled straight cardboard off of it. Terrible. Oh, and a good four inches wider than a lexan. I think they had to put trays on either side of it to catch blood/meat that thawed off.

THE MONKEYS HAVE MULTIPLIED!

I don’t know when or how, but there are now three monkeys on the Christmas tree. AND I CAN’T FIND THE BRAIN.

Don’t Tip Over!

Buying Time

As chefs arrived to pick up their 1N12K reqs, one of us would offer to lead them to the room where they could sign all the aprons first. It was a way for us to buy time to build their req without them having to hang around being bored and wondering how much slower we could possibly be… you know? I wasn’t a VIP guest, I didn’t get an apron, but hey! Check it outtttt… Geeze, my camera phone’s not half bad, come to think of it. Meeting all those chefs was really, really cool. Granted some cooler than others, but overall very cool.

… your warm whispers keeping the noise from breaking through…

I don’t really make playlists for myself. Like, my playlists are mixes of, oh, you know, ’80s here and techno there… all my playlists come into existence because someone has given me music. All my music from Unc is in a playlist entitled Mirrorball; all my music from Ninong is under Lemonade; from Gabe, A Luminous Mystery; and then there’s all this music that Paolo and I gave to each other. I kept a [now incomplete] list of the stuff I gave him.. I think at the time, it was so that I wouldn’t burn doubles ever. And then there was the playlist with all his music for me. At first they were just “from Paolo” and “to Paolo,” and then it became full names, because for some reason we used to yell our full names at each other… and then things happened, and Paolo’s became “from the Paolo of April ’06 to February ’09,” and then eventually “Angel to Angelee” and “Angelee to Angel,” because Paolo was my youth camp angel and we never decided on an alternative to angelee no matter how much it sounded like.. something else, I forget what it was that we said it sounded too much like. Too lazy to pull up the conversation. I think at some point he was the angel and I was the sky or something like that. Anyway… Angelee to Angel still stands, but his playlist is now entitled “Death of a Superstar.” Inspired by a post by Mikey Foss… which, now that I read it again, wouldn’t make sense to anyone but me… Haha. But I guess… One of the hardest things right now is having lost, regardless of anything less or more, a best friend. I guess I haven’t really let any of that out onto my blog. But why not? This is what’s going on in my life; it hurts, and I’ve done things I regret, but nothing I’m ashamed of. Right now, I’m hurting because I lost my #1 best friend of junior/senior year high school. I’m hurting because I still think of a million things I’d like to share with him every single day, about how fast Nino is growing, the people I meet and deal with at school and work, the meditations, the missing Italy… the person I could do a run-down of my day with every day at the end of it all. Just like I used to tell him… talking to him was my relaxation and reward. It’s funny how long it takes for these things to sink in… I honestly just realized it two days ago. I was driving and it hit me, “Oh my gosh. I don’t have anyone to talk to anymore.” Who cares – cared – enough about all the little things that happened in my day enough to read twenty-something page emails word for word? I guess that’s why I haven’t been blogging. The things I think of sharing with the world… a split second later, I think, “Oh. Only Paolo would care.” It’s been a long time since I made it past the phase where I would have traded my life now to be back in senior year. But even if I wouldn’t go back and am happy with where I am, I miss Paolo. Why should I pretend any different? This is part of where I am. I have to accept that just as much as I have to accept that I’ll never get my best friend back.

Small + Sweet + Strong = Tiny + Bling = Sunshine = Steffy!

Steffy’s her own little sun, for sure. God bless her!

untitled

If You Don’t Want It, Please Don’t Req It =(

I think we pitched a whole bus tub of egg whites today… had to. Can’t refreeze them. And if someone reqs 20+ pounds of it and only uses a few ounces… well. That just sucks, doesn’t it? On that note… check this out:

Hummm…

Unpublished/Unfinished Draft ~ Winter 2007 ~ untitled

This past Sunday was Vocation Awareness week, and the homily was given by a seminarian. He gave his background, and it was really an amazing story, how he’d had pretty much everything a body could want, honestly — and then he stepped back and said, “God. I know what I want for my life. But, God… what do You want for my life?” and he gave it all up to become a priest. He spoke of the shortage of priests, and he brought up that video… I think it’s titled Fishers of Men? I’m sure I’ve watched it before, I just can’t remember what the line was… it was a few months back. Something  like, “Who will give the Sacraments to the next generation,” or along those lines.

Really. It is quite a chilling thought.

Unpublished/Unfinished Draft ~ Winter 2007 ~ Now let me see…

Saturday morning, we were packing for St. Louis. We went to the 4:30 Mass, and then Daddy dropped me off at B&N, where Liz, Terhi, and Michelle were waiting. We walked around and chatted and went into random stores here and there. Eventually we went to Rave and found Nate and Kit outside. From there, we walked around trying to figure out where to eat… and Liz got picked up. *wah* We went to the Fish Market, but that was crossed out… and then we went to P. F. Chang’s, but that was majorly full also… and then we went to Champs, but that was full… same story with Red Robin… xD so we ended up eating at Steak ‘N Shake. Bwaha. That was fun.

Busted

So… check out this water fountain…

Herbs Are Like Babies

This note deserves immortalization. (Is that a word?) Courtesy of none other than Steffy =)

ATTACK OF THE DROIDS

My Newest Toy

Unpublished/Unfinished Draft ~ 2007 ~ Continuing…

with my Conference experience; here is Part II. (Part I)

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=3411&l=7512e&id=502520962

Now, where was I… oh, yes, we were in the BLC, right? Waiting for the previous session to end and our session to begin?

When we were finally allowed to leave the lecture hall where we had been waiting, we supposed that that meant that the people who had attended the previous session had already left. Wrong.

The hall outside was PACKED. Parent coordinators had their hands full keeping us “quiet,” meaning that we were perfectly welcome to talk, AS LONG AS we could still hear the directions they were shouting. They failed miserably, I’m afraid. I honestly don’t think that they were angry, though, just worried. I’d be, too, if I was trying to get hundreds of kids out in time for their next workshop, while there were hundreds of kids pushing to get in… Seriously, though — do the math, and you get an average of about 472 Youth trying to get into a workshop, and that doesn’t count Parent Coordinators or the people giving the talk and the rest of the service team.

Jorrel and I somehow got separated from everyone, and then I got separated from Jorrel. I knew that I was supposed to be going upstairs, but where upstairs, I had no idea. So I’m standing there, with my super-packed backpack making that much less space for everyone around me, and I’m one of the shorter people, being stepped on accidentally by tall people and being pushed and jostled around… Haha, no, it wasn’t that bad, but I did panic slightly when I lost sight of Jorrel. (Which, you must realize, was very hard, because he was one of the taller ones, right? :P)

There was plenty going on to keep you from being bored (and aggravated), though. One of the older (ahem, and bigger) Brothers standing right next to me suddenly shouted for a way to be made for him and his group (which consisted of about at least four more Brothers and two Sisters, and they had a reason… they might’ve been service team or something, I don’t know, but no one really seemed to mind) and they proceeded to make a train by holding on to each others shoulders and pushing through the crowd. Ehm, no, I would not exactly say that they were being rude, as long as you had the sense to take it the right way (that being the “all in good fun” way, and I got into the room before them, anyway! MUAHAHA!), and laugh at all the comments being yelled out in Tagalog. People took the opportunity of being packed very tightly together to play little pranks, like covering the eyes of the person in front of them, or picking each other up with the supposed intent of throwing them over the heads of the crowd, or hoping to go crowd surfing, which seemed, at the time, a very practical way of getting to where you wanted to go (thought it came to nothing, I promise you), and so you’d here little slaps and “ANO KA BA!” and helpless laughter. (By “helpless,” I mean something like a person is laughing and are failing to understand why on earth they are laughing, you know? …) I was hearing “Kuya! Nakalabas na ba sila?” or”Ow! Tinatapakan mo ang paa ko!” and “Nasan na si ____?? *yelling for whoever*”

FINALLY!!! I spotted Tito Leo, about eight feet away from me, and about six minutes of pushing to get through to. We got into the elevator, which brought us upstairs… to yet another tightly packed hallway, worse than the first. And here, I shall start referring to my pictures. :D Pic one… well, you can’t really tell what it is. That’s because it was me taking it… Pic 2 was Gabe attempting to take a picture for me; I’d asked for either Gabe or Jorrel to hold up my camera and take a picture of the packed hallway, but Gabe moved the camera too soon — he was deceived by the pre-flash flash — and so he managed to get a gorgeous picture of the speaker thingy. :D

PICTURE 3! is a successful attempt to give an idea of how it was in the hall, and you have to realize that we were only halfway along it, looking back, and so if you can imagine the hall to be twice as long as what you see in that picture… You see the elevator doors to the left? It was really hard getting in and out of the elevators, because we were packed wall-to-wall, obviously, and so it was rather alarming because you were trying to get in/out before the doors closed, and to get stuck right at the threshold was the one thing everyone was trying to avoid, and remember that pretty much everyone had backpacks or handbags or something, not to mention quite a few guitars and skateboards, and man was it HOT. But we were all laughing. Ah, and what made it EVEN CRAZIER was that, when the other session ended, we had to make a way through the hall for those people that were getting OUT!

I know how sardines feel. ‘Cept for being dead.

Did I mention the hallway turned two corners? Yupp. So, I take it back. What you see in that picture is only about 1/4 of the packed-hall experience. When we finally got into the room, half of us (the YFC Cinci) sat on the floor, but that’s ok; Gabe and Kuya were in the third (or was it fourth?) row from the front, Jorrel sat behind them and there was a seat next to him which he offered to me, but I let Lexi go sit there (pic 5), Gab and Kim sat on the floor in front of the pillar where I couldn’t see them, and Mariel and Ate Hazel (pic 4) sat next to where I was sitting on the floor, leaning on Kuya Mico’s wheelchair.

Oh, sorry — did I mention we were all wearing our YFC Cinci shirts? Mhmm, except for Jorrel, and we’d all bought the green Conference shirt that day, so Ate Hazel was wearing that over her Cinci shirt, though I believe she took it off later because it was extremely hot…

SO! Music Min. AWESOME WORKSHOP. (Well, they all were. :P) The talk was given by all the members of the Worship band (er, the main one — there was a separate band made up of just Sisters, for the worship during the Sisterhood Forum, where boys were NOT ALLOWED, but I’ll get to that later…) and I forget their names (believe me, I feel horrible), except for Brother Ian… maybe I’ll remember later… There was one dude there who looked a lot like Kuya Judd, now that I think about it… and had the same air of ease about him… lol.

The band took turns, and they talked about the difference between a musician and a music minister… About having your heart in the right place… How the worship really has to be Spirit-led… Ah, and they gave an example about last year’s Conference, and how they’d chosen one song, but they’d been feeling like it wasn’t quite the right song, and it wasn’t until they were about to start the song that they suddenly felt the Holy Spirit telling them what song they should be singing, and they just looked at each other and nodded, told the screen techs, and played that song instead, and that that song turned out to be the most powerful part of the worship. I wish I’d been there!! Everyone who’d been to last year’s Conference were all nodding their heads, and you could tell that they were surprised when they heard that that song that they remembered to be so powerful hadn’t been in the original plan at all.

Oh, one of the brothers said that if you didn’t have your heart in the right place, you shouldn’t lead worship. Having the heart of a servant is good, but you should also know when you ought not be leading (yet). Also to remember that what you’re doing, you’re doing to bring Glory to God, and it’s not about how well you play the guitar or how well you sing, that it’s all about serving and giving back to God the talent He gave you.

When the talk was over, we split up into groups by what we played; electric guitar, acoustic guitar, bass, drums, and vocals… I feel like I might be forgetting something… Anyway, I don’t know if Gabe went to electric or bass, I don’t know if Mariel went to slectric or acoustic, I don’t know where Gabriella or Kim went at all, Jorrel was with the drummers (right? …), Kuya Mico was, I believe, wherever Gabe was, Lexi either went to vocals or drummers… I think vocals… yeah, that’s right, because that’s where Ate Hazel and I went as well. It was kind of crazy because we all stayed in the same room, and each group was assigned a corner/the middle, and so all of the people leading those groups were all talking at the same time and trying to talk loudly enough so that everyone in their group could hear, and at the same time, obviously doing their absolute best not to drown out their band-mates. At any rate, it was a bit hard, but I think we were all ok…

We’d spotted Kuya Vin at the door about halfway through the workshop, but as we were on the other side of the room, and as I’ve already explained, it was packed, we couldn’t get to him until everyone was dismissed. When we finally got to him, we hung around and chatted for a bit, because lunch was next, so we weren’t in a major hurry.

Ehhh Kuya looked SO TIRED!!! (I also wasn’t 100% sure if it was him when I first saw him, because his hair was considerably longer…) We asked what had happened… Blehhh his flight was canceled and he had to sleep at the airport. Not fun. And so, now, Kuya Vin says he will most definitely be driving next time. (Unfortunately, ‘next time’ is in Seattle… *cough*)

We got separated on our way out of the BLC, because half of us took the stairs, and the rest went with Kuya Mico… I’m not sure exactly where that was…

We found the booths set up in front of the Student Rec Center (pic 6), and it was pretty tight, so Lexi and I went ahead and saved a spot in line for lunch. Uhm… this proved to be unnecessary, but give me a minute to get to that.

I met Ate Kai (pic 7) while I was in line, and when the others caught up, she and Kuya Vin started chatting about the discovery camp and stuff. :P We took lotsa pics while we were in line… pics 8 through 17. Ah, so now we come to why it was unnecessary for me and Lexi to save a spot. Well, as it turns out, Kuya Mico obviously need to be brought up the ramp instead of the stairs that everyone was in line for… Uhm, so… this is rather un-YFC-ish… but all of us, except for Gabriella and Kimberly, brought Kuya Mico up the ramp and cut the line and were allowed in as his… entourage. Where Gab and Kim were, I have no idea..

So, in part I, I told you to take note of the pasta? Bwee hee hee. So we all got in and I went straight for pasta and no one realized that I was gone, and then I’m indicating the pasta to Gabe and the others who were in the really long line for food… later, when we were all sitting down, Gabe was like, “You ate already?” and of course I’m going “That’s what I was trying to tell you!!!” and he goes, “Oh… I thought you were just waiting,” at which point, I simply threw my hands up in the air in helplessness…

Backtrack a little; I’d gotten pasta, and then I tried to see if I could find where in line the others were, I couldn’t get any closer to them than about 20, 30 feet? and with I think it was the salad bar between us… and that’s when I took pic 18 of Kuya Mico, the reason we’d all gotten into lunch easy in the first place, but then they still had to wait in line for another 15 minutes, because Gabe thought I’d been waving… :D So after standing and watching their progress in the line for about ten minutes, I turned my back towards them and faced the rest of the cafeteria… and right then, one of the booths emptied. Muaha. So I managed to get there right after the table had just been wiped up, and then I called Gabe and told him I’d saved seats for them, and eventually he sees me from where he is in the line, and I think he asked if I wanted him to get food for me, but I was like, “Huh?? I have food…” which I don’t think he quite got, because we still had that conversation about waving once we were all sitting down. So, yeah, I saved the booth, and felt kinda bad after a while because I actually finished eating before any of the group were even being served yet, but they finally got their food, and they all sat down (pics 19 and 20), and at once, I went to get ice cream. (:D I tormented them. S’ok. Gabe and Jorrel tormented me at dinner. I’ll explain later…)

When I was nearly done with my ice cream, and everyone else was either half or nearly done with their lunch, Gab and Kim showed up. Oh, muaha, Jorrel and Hazel (and I can’t remember, but I think Mariel, as well) had Gabe get drinks for them. :P That was hilarious…

When Gab and Kim showed up, I left so that they could sit in the booth with everyone… Ahh… I cannot remember exactly what I did. Haha. Oh, wait… Oh yeah, I went and got t-shirts!!! We’d all gotten our green Conference shirts earlier that day… so I got a North Central shirt (iJesus, muahahaha), a… I think South West? which is gorgeous, it’s white with a picture of hands holding a heart… Gah, I have to post pictures of them, they’re so awesome… and also a black shirt that didn’t have a region stated on it… I’ll post pics sometime…

We did a lot of calling each other that weekend, so I guess (can’t exactly remember) I called up Gabe, or he called me up, and I told them I was going to go ahead to the next workshop, and supposedly, we were all going to meet up there, but I guess they decided to go to the Fishers of Men workshop… Oh, I did see Ate Hazel and Jorrel, but I don’t think they saw me, so we weren’t all sitting together…

That workshop was the How Crazy & How Beautiful: Our Catholic Faith workshop, and I like what it says in the description on our scheds — ‘Think we worship Mary? You’re wrong. Is it truly His Body & Blood? You betcha! Learn more about our Catholic faith and why we do the thhings we do in this “Our Catholic Faith” Workshop!’ The spiritual director for CFC NJ gave the talk.. Fr. Lehman, I believe. He said that teens struggled most with three things. Two of those were Purity and Authority. Can’t remember the third. Possibly because he didn’t dwell on it so much compared to the other two. There were two sharings, one on Confession given by Brother Ian, and one on the importance of praying the rosary given by a very inspiring Sister that I am ashamed to have forgotten the name of.

The walk back to the Rec Center was a long hot one, but believe me, that was a BEAUTIFUL walk. You see, the chapel is kind of away from all the other buildings, so that it’s a nice peaceful spot.

I can’t remember exactly how I found everyone again… probably by use of cell phones… At any rate, we were all sitting together eventually, in our usual row somewhere near the front. This was our fourth and final workshop, the Theology of the Body.

Unpublished/Unfinished Draft ~ Thanksgiving 2007 ~ Thanksgiving Break

xD was awesome!!! We got to Mama’s Wednesday night. Unc arrived sometime the next morning. I was still asleep… he and Ninong came into the room with the guitars and started playing VERY loudly and singing (yelling). And then Unc gave me a hug and told me to go back to sleep and he and Ninong were laughing as they walked out of the room. So I went back to sleep, but not for long… I got up eventually and mum laughed when I told her they’d woken me up

Unpublished/Unfinished Draft ~ Winter 2007 ~ LONG Weekend…

Yesterday, we went to the Fraternal at Gabe’s house, where the Youth had a Core + HH heads meeting. We discussed a lot, finalized plans, etc. The dates for Youth camp and all manner of preparation have been set. We’re having a Sisters’ HH this weekend, and then the Christmas party two weeks from now.

We went to Tita Miemie’s after the Fraternal, but only stayed a few minutes… and then Tito Leo and Gabe and I went to the Underground, but then Gabe told us we could stay inside, anyway, and it was only 6:30 and the concert didn’t start until 8, so Tito Leo and I ended up going back to Tita Miemie’s. Lots of funny things happened there…

Unpublished/Unfinished Draft ~ November 2007 ~ Discovery Camp 11/10-11/11

Oh Wow… where to begin? At the beginning, I suppose. xD

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=12274&l=57c00&id=502520962

I arrived at Grailville at around 8 AM. Lexie was the only one there. We were let into the lower level of the retreat house, and Daddy and Tito Mavi got busy with the coffee maker. Well, Tito Mavi got a hold of Kuya Vin, and he said he was on his way. Eventually he arrived, and sometime after, the rest of the service team, and the YFC Cinci. Of course, there was plenty of squealing from us girls… er, well, more like me and Carmela. Haha. Squealing is a prerequisite of hugging. xD

SO! Everyone arrived… and the service team started setting up… I went outside and took pics 1 & 2. When I came back inside, Kuya Roland and I started sparring. No, I take that back. I started beating him up. Yes, that sounds more like it. MUAHAHAHA. We went over some forms.

Kuya Vin: Hey, Ais? I know you’re a participant, but, could I ask for your help with something?
me: Sure… what’s up?
Kuya Vin: Could you be in charge of registration?
me: Ehm… ok… why me? /:|
Kuya Vin: ‘Cause you’re my go-to girl. :D

I asked if I could have some help with that, so he called Gabe over, and Gabe… well, I asked him where we should be, and he went to the table at the far end of the room, and I followed, but then Kuya suggested the table by the door, so we moved over there, but then Gabe got a phone call… I think it was from Paolo. Amanda and Lexie insisted on making their own name tags (they downright refused to let me handle them), so I decided to just let everyone make their own and check them off as they made them. Gabe came back inside and told us Paolo wouldn’t be coming until 2 (as opposed to the previously supposed noon). While everyone was making name tags and I wasn’t crossing people off, I took some pics. (3 thru 7) While I was crossing people off, I noticed that Kuya Vin had written “Paolo San Miguel.” Well, that got a laugh…

After a bit, the Service Team called us over for an ice-breaker. (Pics 8 thru 10) WATERMELON!!!!! And I wouldn’t have lost if they hadn’t decided that I was out merely because Tito Leo had asked me to hand a paper to Gabe and therefore my attention was not on the round when it started, GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR…. jk jk. I laughed. And anyway, I won at CO… Hahaha. Nahh, no grudges.

It got down to Ate Jane and Edgar. Rock, Paper, Scissors tournament. Heaven help us. Kuya Francis was the commentator. Kuya Jeremy was playing Eye of the Tiger on the guitar. It was absolutely hilarious. xD Ate Jane won.

After we’d calmed down and stuff, we were called to go over/learn some songs, and then a short worship. Kuya Jeremy led, and Ate Trina played the guitar.

After worship, Kuya Daryl gave us an intro, and then we had the first talk, which was Who Am I, given by Macy, with Kuya Roland as sharer. Macy talked about the need to discover ourselves, because God created us with a purpose, and He did not simply mean for us to take up space. She went over some physical and emotional changes that teens go through, and how they affect our life and who we become. After the talk, we had a few minutes to reflect, during which Kuya Jeremy played and sang Who Am I by Casting Crowns.

I can’t remember if we had the activity before or after reflection… Basically, they passed out paper and markers, and we drew who we were. Not self-portraits, mind; we drew symbols of who we were, of what made us what we are. We taped those up on the wall.

[If I remember correctly,] Kuya Daryl gave the second talk, which was Who Loves Me. Ehm… I don’t remember a great deal of that… it was mostly the family part that stuck.

Who Is My Best Friend

Who Do I Love

Unpublished/Unfinished Draft ~ who knows when ~ It’s Long Overdue

Four years ago, 9/12/04 to be exact, an article was written by a woman named Margaret Boyce entitled Home-schooling Robs Children. It was the most appalling, horrible, false, inaccurate article, and even I, then an 8th grader and not as crazy about homeschooling as I am now, was more than slightly offended. I wrote a response to that article which I never sent in, but I came across my letter as I was going through my high school essays, and I’ve decided to touch up on this one, not in direct response to Ms. Boyce, but addressing all who happen to read this blog. I can’t find the article — I’ve spent the last 15 minutes searching for the article, but all links-to-article that I’m coming across are giving me a “no longer exists” error, ha! It’s nowhere in the Holland Sentinel’s archives, but you don’t hear me complaining, no; what a piece of trash — so all I’ve got to go on is what I cited in my original piece, but it’s quite enough for me, and to be perfectly honest, I’m getting worked up just re-reading my reply!

Firstly, there was the

Unpublished/Unfinished Draft ~ Summer 2008 ~ untitled

Class just keep getting better and better. As I jogged up the stairs, I grinned and said, “Who’s betting there’ll be even more laughs tomorrow?” The response I got was certainly a very enthusiastic one.

LOL, we just had a great time yesterday. I ran down the stairs and found everyone in the hall, I skid and go “Whaa…” and Daniel goes, “Yeah. We just randomly decided to have class out in the hall today.” Well that brought a laugh. So we hung out until Paul got there and unlocked the door and let us in. Things were fairly uneventful for the first half of the evening. Then we were let out for break, and I, as usual, made my way upstairs, rather than off to CVS with everyone else. Well Daniel decided to come upstairs, too, for once, and we ended up chilling in the hall again (Paul had left, as well). We talked about music and school and stuff. That was interesting.

Everyone else got back before Paul did, so eventually everything else was being discussed; movies, sports, something about church parties… that was Kimball, teachers, students, particularly short girls… something about how Daniel had to run through the halls one day, and a very short teacher told him not to run and he whipped around cuz he thought it was a little kid and was like, “What’re you…” and then realized whoopsss that’s a teacher.. I can’t talk to her like that…. rotfl. And Kimball was acting out a scenario where he’s faced with… “Well, you’re older than me, but I’m looking down at you about 3 feet…” lol these guys. Oh, and Daniel T said, “Your face has been bothering me,” to Daniel H and eventually they figured out where they’d seen each other before (quiz team) and got around to talking about that.

Well we all filed in for class when Paul got there, and

Unpublished/Unfinished Draft ~ Summer 2008 ~ Lackawanna Summer Raspberry Cake

No, I did not title it that in a desperate attempt to be original.

:D

No. Actually, there is no amazing this-is-the-cake-I-bake-every-single-summer on so-and-so-a-date story behind it. Hehe. But the first time I baked this cake was for an El-hen gathering at Lackawanna State Park some summer… so that would have been either ’02 or ’03. I’ve not made it since, but I remember it well because it’s the first memory I have of ever having attempted to bake a cake COMPLETELY by myself. :D Thus, I have gotten sentimental enough about it to rename it. (You don’t want to know the original title. It’s one of those incredibly generic ones. I also think my lovely cake deserved a much summer-y-er title.)

For the cakes:
3 cups cake flour
1 tbsp baking powder
1/2 tsp salt
1/4 tsp baking soda
1 1/2 cups unsalted butter, softened
1 1/4 cups granulated sugar
2/3 cup milk
1 1/2 tsp vanilla
4 eggs

Grease 3 9-inch round cake pans. Line the bottom with parchment paper, grease again, then flour. (If there is one thing I have learned over the years, it is not to take shortcuts with that part. Do not NOT put parchment paper, please. Thank You.)

In a medium bowl, combine flour, baking powder, salt, and baking soda. Set aside.

In the bowl of an electric mixer set on high speed, cream butter and sugar until light and fluffy.

Unpublished/Unfinished Draft ~ October 2008 ~ Cleaning Out/Updating My Reader

and catching up, too. Linking to some stuff I haven’t taken the time to read till now. But just wanted to share, for those who check this blog regularly (Hallo Sis, I know you’re reading… haha :D lol).

Catholics Should All Be Pro-Life

Guard Yourself

On Being Ladylike

A Kiss Is Just A Kiss

let me get this straight:

Dear Readers lol and now I simply must try that lazy bloggers post generator… I’m sure it would come in handy sometimes…

“Pro-Life, Pro-Obama” website launched

02/23/2010

There ain’t no drug / it’s not enough / the sickness is myself…

=D =D =D I was singing Hillsong in the walk-in while building reqs this morning, and then I came out and Fuzz goes, “I love your singing, Aurora, but you want to make me go to sleep.” ROTFLWTIME. He asked me to “pep it up” a bit. Hahahaha. And then he started singing, “There ain’t no drug…” and I yelled SWITCHFOOT!!!!!!! so yay. I love it I love it I love it. I love my job. And I love the people I work with. We were singing Third Day and Casting Crowns. L

Kuya Steve came over to jam today =D That made me HAPPY. I learned a bunch of new songs, YAY. Well, kind of. I knew them before, but they’re new because I never learned to play them. I can’t wait to teach them to Colton and Victoria and Patrick =)

Another thing that makes me HAPPY is the fact that I see Miguel everywhere now. Hilarious. Yesterday, Steph and I were putting things away and he walks in and announces that he decided to come down to Receiving before his class because he was bored and liked the people down there. Today I was upstairs getting breakfast [for myself AND Kuya Steve -- he sent me upstairs to get him a blueberry muffin] and someone said my name. And then he started telling me funny stories about Kuya Steve in Cooking 2 =)

The blueberry muffins looked like chocolate chip muffins to me. They weren’t blue and they weren’t even purple! Mother’s blueberry muffins look soooo different. The point is, I was like oh great no blueberry muffins, and Miguel told me to just go with chocolate, but I texted Kuya Steve to make sure, but he wasn’t answering and it turns out he was on his way up to take care of it himself, and when he got there he decided to tell me he was allergic to chocolate and pretended to be all shocked that I actually listened to Miguel, and then Miguel says that he knew Steve was allergic to chocolate and that he was secretly trying to kill Steve… etc. etc. *takes a deep breath* Ridiculous. And then Kuya Steve decided to drag me upstairs to the Summit so we all went together and then Miguel decided to visit Receiving a million times, something about a black apron, and — yep. Good timezz.

WAH Navid texted me today to let me know that Drew was around… and then I wasn’t smart enough to avoid temptation and go to the third floor and go the long way to see Ms. Hunley, so I passed him in the hall on the way and he told me Drew was the Honors Room and I was like… bother. At any rate, I went to see Ms. Hunley and set up an appointment with Chef Sheldon for next week. And I got to see Mr. Maurer when I was smart enough to take the long way back downstairs to avoid passing the Writing Center. That made me smile =) OH and then the power went out today for a few hours and Mom was like, “Well. You know it’s Lent.” .. No, that was not totally unrelated. This is about Lenten temptations… you know?

ANYway. MICHELLE IS COMING HOME!!!!! AND GABE IS COMING HOME!!!!!!!! AND THERE’S A PACQUIAO FIGHT ON THE THIRTEENTH!!!!!!!! AHHHHHHHHHHH!!!! How much better does life get??? =D

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