On the things I've become

I was reading an old friend’s blog when I realized that I’ve reinvented myself so many times. (Admittedly, it wasn’t just the blog. A barrage of old photos that have surfaced because of Multiply closing down, added to the discovery of my first blog’s password may have amplified this recollection.)

From all the other personas I’ve taken on (there was highschool delinquent  me, depressed writer me, emo rocker me, and even party girl me– a far cry from the DIYing, outfit posting me of today), one in particular has always made me feel like I’ve just listened to Coldplay’s X&Y album, every time remembered.

That was the College freshman (or should I say frosh?) me– a doe eyed, naive, black t-shirt rocking, cap wearing version of myself. I am then reminded of my unreasonable hopes for the future and great mistakes made in the past. It’s hard to read a blog post dated 2005 recounting the first day of college which I was part, when I am still in college now. 

Of course, people usually ask:

“What happened?”

“What took you so long?”

“How did it come to that?”

But those questions are not ones that I find important. The significant question would be one I ask myself every time this period of my life is dug up:

“What if?”

Obviously, there is no way of knowing. Wallowing will only leave me depressed and distracted.

And then there’s this: no matter how overdue, I am happy now. There’s a wonderful lesson certain agonizing events in our lives teach us, and I may just have learned mine.

But, College freshman me still leaves a dull pain at the bottom of my stomach every time remembered. 

Though I’ve always thought that Coldplay’s X&Y evokes in listeners a good kind of pain– if there is such a thing.

Flow

What do you think of this lovely maxi dress?

Summer is over but that shouldn't stop you from using these beach staples.

Andrew Lloyd Webber's Phantom of the Opera in CCP, Manila

Photo from Philippineconcerts.com

(Because I find myself inlove, again, with a fictional character)

It's been a day since I saw Phantom of the Opera at CCP, and yet I still find myself singing Music Of The Night to myself before going to bed, thoughts of the Phantom floating in my head.

I watched the Andrew Lloyd Webber version of The Phantom of the Opera for the first time in film. Directed by Joel Schumacher and starring Emily Rossum and Gerard Butler, the movie came alive in my head– and so did the Phantom. In my search for other materials that could satisfy my curiosity for the fictional masked monster, I picked up Gaston Leroux's Le Fantome de l'Opera, the book where everything was based on. I read a story about a Phantom who had no nose and smelled of death pining for the heroine Christine who fell inlove with Raoul, a feminine mama's boy. I was disappointed at the book's lack of romanticism and thus ended my love for the Phantom.

Blogging, Plagiarism, and a Senator

I do not consider myself as well versed when it comes to the intricacies of politics and issues involving the government, the people in the government, and issues in the country. When news on these topics come out, I usually have an opinion, but rarely do I broadcast them since I do not consider myself knowledgeable enough to speak on the subject. With a few exceptions like the debate on the RH Bill (of which I’ve established my position as a firm supporter), you will seldom elicit enough outrage from myself to fuel a blog post.

But here it is, and this is not about the RH Bill.

The issue here is not a complex one. It does not take a college graduate to understand what has happened: A proud politician has erred and instead of apologizing, the man, a Philippine public servant, first denies the wrong doing and demeans the other party involved, then defends the same act by justifying it as a normal occurrence, the status quo. In another statement, he defends his obvious mistake by charging back at his detractors and questioning their personalities. He asks, “Alam ba natin kung sino? Matino ba sila? Mabait ba sila?”, as if the answers to these questions would somehow lessen the gravity of his misdeed. 

I speak now because I believe this issue needs not an expert to be fully explained. It is the most basic thing we are taught in our youth: do not take what is not yours.  Whether it be toys, clothes, or crayons; or as we grow older, money, wives (yes, the bible said so), or words, stealing is stealing and no amount of explanation and rationalization will change that fact. We all know this from childhood, and if a 6 year old version of myself can understand this, why can’t a Philippine Senator?

Then again, a 6 year old version of myself would also probably know that an apology from the start would have had fixed the whole debacle, the Senator has not caught on on this either. He remains firm on his stand; downplaying the importance of intellectual property (plagiarism is not criminal, he says), claiming to be cyber-bullied, and hosting a noon time show which (apparently) helps hundreds everyday.

And don’t get me started on that Blogging Bill that was proposed– a poor attempt to “divert the issue”. 


(For those of you who do not exactly know what blogging is, this essay by Niko Batallones explains it perfectly.)

Pho Hoa, Alabang Town Center

A favorite restaurant of the family would be Pho Hoa at Alabang Town Center.

Pho Hoa's Pho Nam, Gan 

Monica is my saviour

Dressing up for a hectic Saturday.

DIY: Gradient glitter tips manicure

How cute is this cheerful looking manicure?

Banapple, Alabang Town Center

Banapple's cake collection

Anton, my brother, goes to Ateneo. Every time we bring him to Katipunan, I see two Banapple's on  both sides of the street in such close proximity to each other. I had always wondered about this cake place, could it be that good that one Banapple didn't suffice for the area?

A note to my very first blog

It’s been years, Xanga. How long? Six?

Years since I last came to you, crying, pounding away at the keyboard and releasing those feelings to the vast unknown that is the internet through virtual words.

I do not even seem to know that girl.

I want you and everyone who has ever read this blog to know: I am okay and things worked out.

As much hurt and wretchedness was there in me, that single truth remained– everything changes, and so have I.

I still ache reading the things I’ve written and I have been wrestling with the idea of deleting this blog, but I can never seem to bring myself to do so. The person who wrote this all, though only a far and faint memory remains, is still the person I was.

Thank you, Xanga. One cannot imagine how much you have helped me– to find what it is that I love to do which is to write, and to find the person I am and am in the process of becoming. A product of all the hurt, pain, and emotion I have posted on your virtual pages.

To you, thank you for reading this. Raw as it may be, it was still once my truth and knowing that someone cared enough to read mattered more than you can ever imagine.

-Isabel (sisasaid.blogspot.com)



(I was recently able to access my old blog. Along with the realization that I've been blogging since 2004 came the revelation that there is so much that has changed. Originally posted on that very same xanga blog.)

Portraits

Meet the ladies of my family.