Just-Iced

An Opinion on Yna's "Reality"

2009-06-10T19:51:00.002+08:00

Even if we try to dodge what hurts, and what is real, at the end of the day, we still come to a realization that we can never get ourselves to the end of the tunnel without facing what we fear. And escaping the truth isn't really escaping. Because it is and will always be a part of what is true. So its a vicious cycle: escaping and finding yourself trapped once again.

P.S.
Escape worlds will never be free of drama

This Thing I Call Passion

2009-06-09T00:53:00.002+08:00

Although there’s a great chance this whole physical and mental stress on my shoulders will get me tied up to a hospital bed two or three months from now, I still think entering the culinary world is one hell of a move as far as my career is concerned. And although I nearly call myself a robot for working like one, am pretty certain the clockwork will help me get there.

It’s huge a vision, I know. But seeing the exact opposite will only make me miss the whole point of this career makeover. So yes, I guess I’d continue doing myself a massive favor of keeping a positive attitude towards this thing I call, passion.

Security, Insecurity

2009-04-14T23:25:00.004+08:00

I love making plans. Sophisticated ones…

Five, seven years from now, I’d be in Italy or France, in some five-star hotel, watching my people move around the kitchen. Five, seven years from now, I’d stroll down the sidewalks of Paris, in my cream DVF dress, Chanel flats, Prada shades and a Gucci handbag. I’d shop, head home and cook dinner for two. Five, seven years from now, I would be in my late 20’s, still single, living my life.

That was all me and my career in the picture (and yes, my best customer). It sounded so easy. Of course it is. If there’s one thing in this world that I can take control of, it would definitely be my actions and nothing else. Kick ass and get there. That’s the plan five, seven years from now.

I love making plans. But it scares me sometimes because it’s not just the career that would make up my future. There’s marriage, and raising kids, and dealing with things that get in the way of my crystal clear blueprint. Blueprints guarantee nothing.

Nothing.

P.S.
It scares me… even if you say you’d hold my hand on our way there or, you got my back or what have you.

P.P.S.
And FIVE kids? Puhlease! Lol

I Am Just Tired. That's all.

2009-03-07T00:09:00.002+08:00

Tonight I was laying stomach flat on my bedroom floor trying to think of anything but stress. It was hard. There’s nothing I could think of. I had a blank mind with a blank facial expression. Am damn tired!

It has been one hell of a month for me. I knew school would be stressful. Fourteen months and I get a diploma. It is relatively shorter compared to other diploma courses hence the fast-paced, exhausting life I have to endure for the next 12 months or so.

Kitchen weeks will forever be like this: every member of our class moves around the kitchen from 6:30 am to lunch time. We don’t sit unless it’s our turn to eat, which happens after we have finished serving our guests with their full-course meal. During lecture weeks, patience and persistence would be tested through writing 100-500 times (depends on what the Chef instructors would require you) the right answers to the questions you failed to answer correctly. If you don’t want your hands getting all stiff the next morning because of arthritis, then probably you would want to memorize the entire handouts and manuals from cover to cover. Recipe quiz comes every other Friday. This week, we had learned roughly 25 recipes that I need to M-E-M-O-R-I-Z-E.

I don’t want to sound as if I were whining or something because I don’t know, I really am not complaining. I am tired that’s all. And this is probably what I need to be able to get there. This is just like an opportunity with a huge challenge that goes with it. The Man up there must really love me.

*whispers thank You*

Now, I will look for my matchbox, light a scented candle and relax because tomorrow, I shall cook for my family.

Lunch for 79 People

2009-03-03T18:34:00.007+08:00

Today, we prepared lunch for 79 hungry people. Despite the relatively small count, the kitchen was chaotic from start to finish and the feeling was ecstatic! It was like working in a real restaurant. I'd like to share the dishes we made today. Feel free to eat with your eyes and imagination.

Minestrone Soup with Pesto

Breaded Snapper Fillet with Tartar Sauce over Warm Potato Salad in Bacon Mustard Sauce

From the pastry kitchen are:

Chomp. Chomp.

Mind Your Own Weight

2009-02-19T17:21:00.003+08:00

I am really pissed off right now I could literally punch her in the face! Apparently this girl’s mouth is uncontrollably harsh. I was minding my own business when she held my arm and blurted out the words, “Grabe! Ang payat payat mo. Sobra!!!” and I was like “OA!”

This is exactly what I mean when I say people should know when to open their mouths and when to shut up.

I could’ve just said, “That’s because I don’t want to look like a little tea pot, short and stout like you!” or perhaps, “My jeans and mini skirt fit me perfectly fine. Thanks!”

But then again, I know when to shut up. And again, I don’t want to level to her absolutely fine manners.

P.S
Just so you know, I don't have anything against short and stout people. It's the insult that made my blood reach its boiling point.

Denial

2009-01-16T13:00:00.000+08:00

It was almost three in the morning when my mind finally got tired of thinking that I fell asleep without knowing until now what my last thought was. I was overthinking.

Again. Ugh!

Woke up to the sound of my alarm at exactly 6:45 am. Didn't bother to turn the snooze on. I wanted to go back to fantasy. I opened my eyes 9:03 am and then… bam. It hit me. Time to face the end.

I dressed up for this day—in clothes and accessories that I don't usually wear at work, a handbag that I don't usually carry during typical days, and scent that I only spray when I am out on a date. I left the house with all these and with a nagging question in mind: is this really happening?

I dressed up for this. Undoubtedly, it is happening!

Visions

2009-01-11T17:26:00.006+08:00

Occasionally she dreams of Italy.
She dreams of cheese shops, persnickety fiats
And very fine leather goods.

-kate spade

I guess I share the same burning desires with her.

What I Know for Sure Today

2009-01-11T17:14:00.003+08:00

Impatience, when done right is the key to quick success.
My family will always be my worst critics.
My parents’ happiness will never be based on what I have achieved in my life but on the things that bring me GENUINE happiness.
The impulse to pull the trigger is felt almost every time people let me down. But If I lose faith, I lose everything.

Versus

2009-01-09T22:57:00.002+08:00

Eleven days from now, I’d be facing what I consider so far the most challenging phase in my life—the kitchen world. Everything moved as fast as a bullet train. One minute I was just dreaming of getting into a culinary school and the next thing I knew, I was being summoned to fit my school uniform. Spending 40k for 2 bags in 2 consecutive days is nothing compared to this. Unlike my impulsive shopping which sent me to a blissful treat called pleasure and luxury, this is something scary. This will change my life (probably forever). Nooooooo!

Faints.

That was Bheng screaming no. With conviction, huh? The one who made the decision about the bags, that was her too. Crazy! On the contrary, Arbee, the sane side of me is telling me to go for it. Do it with caution, the way mature people do.

Wearing a chef’s jacket, a toque, pants and a pair of clogs sends chills to my spine and butterflies to my tummy. I mean I would abso-freakin-lutely feel great in that ensemble. Nevertheless, wearing a complete chef’s gear, I understand, is more than that.

The excitement I feel would all vanish into thin air each time the idea of taking this “serious risk” comes to my mind. The risk here involves almost everything that I have now. Am risking the career that I have built for almost 3 years, my romantic relationship, my life in the social realm, my health--my two perfectly functioning bean-shaped organs, and my family’s welfare (the tuition fee is not a joke, I tell you. the plan of getting a new house has now become temporarily out of the picture). I fear all these and all the other things muddling to form this enormous paranoia. But dwelling on these thoughts will only macerate my cerebral faculty, if not blow off my entire brain. I gotta get this negativity off my system! Caffeine. I need caffeine. Or a shot or 2 of tequila, please. Cig? Oh darn. I do not smoke.

God, help me.

Love and Hate

2009-01-06T15:25:00.005+08:00

I am partial to the rain. I love it at times when I am in the comforts of my own place. When it rains and I happen to be at home, oh how I admire watching its downpour. I adore listening to the sound of its echoing beat each time a drop hits the ground, the roof of our house, and the rich green leaves of the surrounding trees.

Love it just like that--nothing more, nothing less. Just like that.

I am partial to the rain. I never liked it when I am out as it hassles me—I hate it when my umbrella gets wet, my feet get drenched, when my bags and shoes are in the perils of the rain’s power to destroy. And the worst part, when I had to stand for hours waiting for the next decent cab to pull over for me. Oh did I just mention that it’s the worst? Maybe I was wrong. The part I hate the most when commuting in the presence of the rain, is having to force myself to take a ride where I have to rub elbows (literally speaking) with strangers. Ugh! Gross. Gross. Gross. Don’t get me wrong, I have no disgust whatsoever to give to commuting except when the heavens cry.

As long as I stay away from any form of mass transpo when it rains, am gonna be sane. To those who call it sensitivity or the opposite, I’ve something for you: I. Don’t. Really. Care. It’s one of my pet peeves and it freaks the hell out of me. End of story.

P.S.
I love to experience the rain in Paris, Manhattan, Seattle, Rome, and Barcelona.

P.P.S.
Take me there, will you?

The “S” Talk

2008-12-14T17:07:00.003+08:00

I was with a girl friend last night and we had a nice chat over coffee. Our topic: SUNBURN (of all the things in the world, I know).

I told her I never liked it in the city because it’s horrible. It’s irritatingly hot that it hurts my skin—very much depressing! We both agreed that sunburn, when done right equals love. Sunburn, when occurs immediately after spending an incredibly great time at the beach, that’s when it’s all worth it.

We promised to hit the beach this summer, with some Coppertone!

Evaluation

2008-12-10T15:46:00.002+08:00

The things I hate most:

Google – this tops my list!
Procrastination—Guilty of, but am trying to steer away from it
Roaches—I hate them now and forever!
Waiting
Sleeping late
Migraine
Knock-off designer goods

Things I love the most:

TV series
Weekends
Online shopping
Pasta
Kate Spade and Fendi
Al Green songs

Things I miss the most:

Coffee
Date with friends
Local TV
School
Cold Christmas breeze
QT (ahem)

Things I am excited about:

School
My uniform – especially the jacket and the toque
Balikbayan box
Holidays
Break
TV series
Opportunities
13th month pay (ahem)

Summer in December

2008-12-08T23:09:00.006+08:00

She looks at her
unfamiliar face
and she sees clearly now
her beauty fades
prematurely
in the eyes
of her mother.

I Can’t Do a 180

2008-12-03T10:19:00.003+08:00

I’m not turning back to catch a glimpse of my past. I am not turning my head around, no. I know what those crisscrossed paths look like, I know how it feels to get through them so there’s really no point of seeing ‘em again. I know and I will always remember—the fork roads, intersections, flyovers from north, south, east and west, those 4-way roads. You see, literally, I lack sense of direction. And that, is no doubt a clear manifestation of how life has confused me in the past. Soon, I will move on. And will learn how to drive, with a GPRS.

I Was Never a Rebel

2008-12-02T21:20:00.008+08:00

Until tonight.

Now I stop obeying
Now I quit listening
Now I get tired of pleasing you.

Suffer the dose of your own medicine,
that is.

So suck it up for now.

Tomorrow if you see me
Thousands of feet above the ground
Standing next to that same window
Think of silence as an option
Maybe then I will think twice
Or thrice
Or as many times as you have told me
“you’ll get killed if you jump off that window”

Then maybe I won't jump off.

Reality. Check.

2008-12-01T00:56:00.006+08:00

CHANGE is something that I fear, something that I’d rather refuse doing. But you can’t just get stuck at one portion of your life where you feel most comfortable, because in this world, change is the only thing that’s permanent and unavoidable.

Two Saturdays ago, I found myself wandering around the kitchens of a culinary school—I was taking a tour and actually seeing how things work there. The next hour, I was inside a classroom answering an entrance test. I’ve finally decided to take up one of their diploma courses. An interview was done a couple of days after the tour and then the next thing I knew, I was issuing them a check as a payment for my tuition.

It’s that fast. In only two weeks, a major change has gone my way. Yes, I made it happen but I’m still not sure what really pushed me to risking everything that I’ve been building up for my future for the past two years. Maybe life tires me. I know I shouldn’t be saying such. I’m only 22 and am not halfway through it yet. But that’s exactly my point. Perhaps, I realized that corporate life isn’t my thing in the first place. That’s why am breaking free and welcoming change.

***
When I was a kid, back when I still had an idealist mind, I used to be a firm believer of the saying, “The possibilities are endless.” After having discovered my potentials, I thought it’s just a matter of doing what I must do and believing that I can.

…But now, the idea of veering away from what I am used to seems haunting me, making me wanna get myself tucked under a thick blanket in a place called my comfort zone. I am scared. Scared of failure, scared of people’s unsolicited opinions, scared of the wounds I might get in the process. I am scared of…

Change. A very inspiring person once told me, “change is good. It’s what makes a person stronger. You can do it!”

I was moved by what he said. He has faith in me. How could I be so hard on myself and steal the confidence that I once had? Maybe there’s something in me that’s worth believing in after all. Reality. Check.

This Blog

2008-11-11T16:21:00.002+08:00

I was just wondering... Is this blog still worth keeping?

Untilted

2008-09-18T09:22:00.002+08:00

by Nico Arespacochaga

What can my weapons destroy
when your very touch disarms me
The raging inferno in my soul
is quelled by your soft gaze
You wield the power to move
this stubborn fortress with your smile
All i have left is the love and life
you have instilled in my heart
You turned me into the man I was meant to be

Nothing makes my morning sweeter than waking up to a text message like this.

5 Things I Realized this Morning

2008-07-24T11:01:00.000+08:00

I am alive and I don’t exist just to live. I am capable of inspiring people’s lives.
Some people are willing to swap lives with other people. But me, given the chance, I still won’t do it. Ever.
Faith is the one thing that’s keeping me intact.
I need to remember that frustration is temporary and that happiness is relative—a choice that I have to make every time I feel down.
First impressions never last.

Paging Vince’s Life and The Runaway Jury

2008-07-18T15:06:00.003+08:00

…Please proceed to MY BOOKSHELF!

Argh! My Vince’s Life and Runaway Jury books are missing!

Last night, I was standing right in front of my bookcase trying to look for a nice, short read when I noticed that everything on my shelf looked perfectly normal except for one book that was not standing the way it should. It was leaning against the book next to it. Then boom, it hit me. Some of my books are gone! My favorite ones!

I rattled my head trying to recall the last time I saw them. But nothing relieving came to my mind. Did someone borrow them? I really couldn’t remember. I checked my sister’s bookshelves. Nothing. Checked my cabinet, and my stuff downstairs and my brother’s room, and nearly turned my room upside-down, still nothing.

This is insane. I cannot afford to lose them. 1.) My Grisham books are next to The Bible. If you know what I mean. 2.) I don’t think I can find another copy of Vince’s Life at bookstores ever.

I cry now.

Emptying the Trash Can: An Accomplishment

2008-06-23T23:10:00.001+08:00

My back hurts. I cleaned my room for 2 straight hours and for the past couple of months. I’ve been so busy that it had been very difficult for me to really find time to at least make my bed in the morning, or watch the late news before going hitting the sack. This very blog can attest to that, and also “Twilight”, which has been sitting on my side table for God knows how long. I’ve read only half of it and the rest is history. Pfft.

Although, I was completely aware that I shouldn’t have tired myself even more, I still managed to force myself to organize everything before I lose my mind. Now, I feel good that I can finally recognize that it is a room I sleep in and not some jungle. Everything is back to normal—from my clothes, to the stack of books and magazines, CD’s and DVD’s in my shelves—all spic and span.

…And I emptied the trash bin. That was by far the most rewarding of all. Lol.

The Purpose of Writing

2008-05-26T16:25:00.003+08:00

A friend of mine once asked me why I write. I wasn’t so sure if she was serious about it but the question has been lingering in my mind from the very moment she asked about it until now. I wasn’t sure of what to say to her that time so I simply shrugged and said “I don’t know. I just write for the heck of it.”

Now, I am asking myself the same thing. Aside from having it as a job and a hobby I could no longer detach myself from, why do I write? I am thinking of “to inspire” but it’s so Og Mandino that the sound of it doesn’t justify what I create, coz really, this thing that I do doesn’t extend to so many let alone touch people’s lives. I am not an expert in anything so I’m pretty sure I don’t write to lecture as well.

I write for certain reasons, and the degree of certainty on that part is something I am aware of since the day I produced my first poem, my first short story, or the first entry of this blog. But only now do I get the chance to really put the puzzle pieces together. Only now do I get the chance to finally see a vivid and colorful image of what used to be blurred and gray – a montage of myself crying, laughing, smiling, confused, tired, amazed, high, angry, depressed, pleased, happy, grieving, failing, succeeding, etc; alone, with family, friends, and enemies; together with the beliefs, thoughts and understanding that I have, whether right or wrong, stupid or sensible, silly or witty.

I write for the purpose of self-expression, for self-fulfillment in a not so egoistic manner. But of course, it’s not one of Gautier’s or Wilde’s arts for art’s sake thing. I am way, way far from that philosophy, I don’t even call myself a writer, writer. If you know what I mean. I write because I want to share and to remember things that made me, me. I write because I fear that one day, all the things that I could have expressed through writing would just fade and blend along with the infinite and indefinite background of the cosmos. Writing will somehow delight me in one way or another should I choose to look back to the tangible and intangible things this world owns that made a tiny stir, if not a huge impact in my life.

This, for instance will one day help me realize a deeper learning and understanding of what I do and perhaps change or improve what it is that I have now—writing for the heck of it, for remembrance, and for sheer self-expression.

Beyond Dreams and Familiarity

2008-05-05T12:30:00.001+08:00

The sky is clear, dusts twinkle all over
She feels the moon gazing at her
For she stands alone and shivers
As the wind kisses her cheeks

Sand and waters touch her feet,
So bare, so cold,
So pale, she sees
No step she makes

She stands still

The moon peeping,
In its mind
She is all drained
Losing faith and kind

Isolated and shivering, she looks up above and
A tiny prayer she whispers

She bows as her eyes close
A blanket of warmth
Embraces thickly around her arms
Tasting the flavor, savoring its tang

Slow currents freeze, the cold breeze leaves
And everything else stands silent

She lifts her face and to the sound of the waves
She moves as if dancing in the moonlight
Taking a deep breath,
She suddenly smells the salty musk that seems

So Familiar.

Seeing her dreams
Flashing altogether

Warmth lingers all over
Once in her fantasy she knows,
Her feet are set and numb
But beyond dreams and familiarity she goes

The sky turns purple
All the dusts stop twinkling but those in her eyes
The warmth remains
Both feet so bare, and tender

The lingering warmth she cradles inside
While her feet touch the waters
She feels her feet,
So bare, so tender, all drenched.

Nails, Teddy, Movie and Grissini…

2008-04-28T12:41:00.001+08:00

…made my weekend oh so great.

It was a great Saturday for me and Teddy. I finally had the chance to get my nails done. Thank goodness. But because of that, I missed Teddy’s birthday party. Everyone was able to attend but me and my kuya, who accompanied me to the nail salon. They had fun, which is great. My cousins told me food was yummy and plenty and that they are looking forward to Teddy’s next birthday bash. Well, me too.

Anyway, since I wasn’t able to make it to his party, I promised my aunt to give him something extra special on Christmas—a silk collar maybe, or a grooming certificate. Oh I forgot to tell you. Teddy’s a dog. A very special dog, I suppose.

Sunday was great also. Nico and I had fun watching The Forbidden Kingdom. (Warning: spoilers ahead). Wasn’t that good compared to other Jacky Chan’s and Jet Li’s films. But the fight scenes between the two of them were amazing. I was awestruck. I mean it’s not everyday you see Jacky Chan and Jet Li throwing each other some drunken master techniques, tiger and preying mantis moves. So, it was really a treat.

We ate at Piadina Italiana. It wasn’t able to satisfy my cravings for grissini and dip though because the bread was a bit overcooked and the dip wasn’t that… er… flavorful. So I guess for my next craving, I’d think Greenbelt’s instead.