tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12286517012314526842024-03-13T14:28:10.122+08:00~* Hell Froze Over *~This is a fusion of the old and new me. Although I have only put up this blog site early 2008, I have since re-posted some of the entries I wrote on my Friendster blog site. That way, you can take a glimpse of the old me while getting to know that I am still bitchy, cynical, sarcastic... but nevertheless vulnerable, humorous and caring.Unica Ivahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12647470287818852114noreply@blogger.comBlogger113125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1228651701231452684.post-3984476204287356682020-04-01T13:39:00.000+08:002020-04-01T13:49:40.144+08:00Quarantined Thoughts<br />
People say, "Sometimes, life runs you over".<br />
<br />
I think my glitchy matrix misheard it and thought it meant "Life runs over you..." and even added "...like a 16-wheeler truck on a road rage." Coz that's sure as heck what it felt like.<br />
<br />
Letting go of a (more or less) stable life and career to jump into a sea of uncertainties to start life again is not only mentally challenging but also physically draining. Moving out of a house and a country, stopping over your own country and moving to another country across the globe is enough to unhinge a perfectly sane person, to put it quite nicely. But it had to be done. Yep, done it, survived that.<br />
<br />
So just when I started getting the hang of things, forming new routines, getting my academic groove back (eew), starting to enjoy having classes and getting to know my classmates....<br />
<br />
<b>CORONAVIRUS. COMMUNITY QUARANTINE.</b><br />
<br />
Totally. Ruined. Vibe.<br />
<br />
But I ain't complaining. I do not have the right to, because our frontliners, those in the medical field, those in the essential businesses that have to keep going to provide for our needs... They want to be home but they can't. Every damn day, they have one foot on the grave trying to serve and save people. I can only offer moral support, thoughts and lots of prayers for those risking their lives so we can stay home and live ours.<br />
<br />
My friends think I'm okay, my professor thinks I'm funny and always eating, social media friends think I'm just having TikTok fun. What is not privy to everyone is the behind-the-scenes that very few people have backstage passes to. Let's keep it that way.<br />
<br />
So my life is, yet again, filled with even more anxiety and uncertainty, as with everyone else's. I find myself looking at it retrospectively --<br />
<i>"I'm glad I did this, I wish I could have done that..."</i><br />
...and introspectively --<br />
<i>"What can I do to make my life more meaningful?"</i><br />
<br />
Well, I'm still figuring it out.<br />
<br />
-xoxo-<br />
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<br />Unica Ivahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12647470287818852114noreply@blogger.com0Toronto, ON, Canada43.653226 -79.383184343.285985499999995 -80.0286313 44.0204665 -78.737737299999992tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1228651701231452684.post-14389619524703398872019-08-13T21:23:00.002+08:002019-08-13T21:37:22.179+08:00That thing called...<br />
TADHANA.<br />
<br />
I love the movie, but this is not really about the movie. This is simply about "tadhana" -- what is meant to be for you.<br />
<br />
I realized in recent years that no matter how hard you try, no matter how many ways you execute it, no matter how many nights you prayed for it, if it's not meant to be, then it won't happen. But then again, there's always a fine line between "not giving up working for what you want" and "recognizing that maybe this is not for you".<br />
<br />
So.. how do you know when to keep fighting? How do you know when to give up?<br />
<br />
I don't think there's an exact science behind it, but one thing I'm sure of is you have to pray for guidance and discernment.<br />
What I did was I stepped back and acknowledged that I have done what is humanely possible in my limited capacity, and that the rest is up to Him. And if things still do not push through -- then it's not meant for me...yet. Hindi pa nakatadhana.<br />
<br />
And as you go through life, you will realize that there are things/experiences you wouldn't have had the chance to have if your "plan" pushed through earlier.<br />
<br />
It would help to hold on to the faith that there's always a reason behind everything. There are some things that were not granted to you, probably because He has other plans. However, once you are finally in the same direction as the path He wants you to take, you'll see things unfolding before your own eyes. Of course there will still be anxiety, uncertainty, challenges and questions along the way, but you will see and feel that things are slowly falling into place, and that maybe, finally, you are in the path you are supposed to take, no matter how hard it may seem.<br />
<br />
Tadhana. Whatever it may be, wherever it may be, it will surely find its way to you eventually.<br />
<br />
Perhaps, I'm getting there.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="https://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/165/F865ACF85D5BEB33A36AF8136F136573.png" style="background: transparent; border: 0px;" /></a>Unica Ivahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12647470287818852114noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1228651701231452684.post-72349182984392613972016-07-10T23:24:00.001+08:002016-07-10T23:33:36.944+08:00How to Temporarily Move out...and Move back in again.The past couple of months have been grueling, in terms of work and daily life.<br />
It rained and damn poured. May and June have been borderline cruel to me and my stress levels.<br />
<br />
Temporarily moving out due to our block's Home Improvement Program is a pain in my sexy ass. Literally and figuratively. When you totally move out of an old place into a new one, the process is straightforward.<br />
You pack everything and put it in the new place and throw away those you don't need. BUT when you just have to move away for a couple of weeks for an unmanned renovation, it's a whole new ballgame.<br />
<br />
How To <strike>Kill Yourself Slowly</strike> Temporarily Move Out and Move Back In Again:<br />
<br />
<u>Terminologies</u>:<br />
<br />
Renovation. Means we have to move everything to one side and cover as much as we can with a dropcloth/plastic to protect it from the dust.<br />
<br />
Unmanned renovation. Means no one will look after our things because we're moving out and working and trying to live a normal life. Ergo, everything has to be sorted according to different levels of importance and then secured.<br />
<br />
<u>Procedure</u>:<br />
<br />
<i>Sorting Level 1</i>. Means we have to pack all our important files, papers, records, gadgets etc and bring it with us in the temporary place.<br />
<br />
<i>Sorting Level 2</i>. There are some stuff that should be moved out but we can't lug it around wherever we go. So we gotta look for close friends with extra space where we could leave some of our things.<br />
<br />
<i>Sorting Level 3</i>. Some stuff can be left in the house but should be secured in the locked cabinets.<br />
<br />
<i>Sorting Level 4</i>. The big stuff, the kitchen stuff, the small stuff that can be left unsecured, just covered from dust.<br />
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<i>Temporary Homehunt</i>. Looking for a temporary home within our budget that can accommodate us and our important stuff (around 4 pcs of big luggage and around 10 smaller ones). So blessed to have a colleague who accepts transients in her condo.<br />
<br />
<i>Moving into the Temporary Home.</i> We had to hire a Maxicab to fit all our roughly 15+ pcs of luggage. And the Maxicab driver was kinda arguing with us if we were shifting house or not, because shifting house costs more. We said no, because technically, we weren't, right? It is temporary. It's a mandatory staycation. WTF.<br />
<br />
<i>Unpacking in the Temporary Home</i>. We're staying for 13 nights. I think we have to unpack and make the room as comfortable as we can, right?<br />
<br />
<i>Trying to live a normal life and trying not to think about the packing that has to be done #inDenial.</i><br />
<br />
<i>Packing in the Temporary Home.</i> Yep, it will eventually come to this, again. Sht.<br />
<br />
<i>Cleaning our Unit</i>. We couldn't just move right back in. Everything was covered in dust. We had to uncover (hello 2 weeks worth of dust confetti), vacuum, wipe and sweep everything first before bringing our stuff in.<br />
<br />
<i>Moving back into our Unit.</i> We wanted to avoid hiring another Maxicab. So Hubby and I made several bus trips from the temporary home to our unit to bring the stuff by batch. So we eventually just had to take a regular cab for the last batch of stuff. It was manageable but exhausting in this heat.<br />
<br />
<i>Cleaning Part 2</i>. When we start to move the things from one side, we also had to vacuum everything again. And again. And again. And we haven't even unpacked.<br />
<br />
<i>Unpacking</i>. Unpack every damn thing and put them in the same places. Or find more things to throw away. either way, this ain't even totally finished yet.<br />
<br />
<i>Gather all the other stuff from our friends' house.</i> Oh, yeah, right. We sorta haven't really gotten our other stuff deposited in our friends' house. We will.... eventually.<br />
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Oh, and did I mention that my mom was leaving to go back to the Philippines early morning after we moved back in? So, I should put <i>Packing to Go Back To Phils</i> somewhere in the list too.<br />
<br />
<u>Epilogue</u>:<br />
<br />
And, tonight, when I have already spoken to my mom who is back home safe, when the house started to be livable again, when I have taken several showers in the newly renovated toilet which still smells like paint.... tonight is the only time I can start to let go of the renovation-related stress....<br />
<br />
I can finally start to think straight again.<br />
<br />
I am still stressed and exhausted and still have a lot of fixing to do, but at least most of it's done, I think. And I am infinitely blessed that my mom was here throughout the ordeal, as she was the mover and shaker of the renovation-related move and I was the brain-fried daughter who just kept thanking the Lord for sending my mom at the right time.<br />
<br />
Aaaaand hopefully..... I'm starting to get my brain back. Slowly, but getting there, me thinks.<br />
<br />
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<br />
<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/165/F865ACF85D5BEB33A36AF8136F136573.png" style="background: transparent; border: 0px;" /></a>Unica Ivahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12647470287818852114noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1228651701231452684.post-24070199501833161622015-09-18T22:53:00.000+08:002015-09-18T22:53:02.689+08:00Don't React...<div class="_209g _2vxa" data-block="true" data-offset-key="6kvs7-0-0" data-reactid=".9m.1.0.1.0.0.$editor0.0.0.$6kvs7" style="background-color: white; color: #373e4d; direction: ltr; font-family: helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; position: relative; white-space: pre-wrap;">
<span data-offset-key="6kvs7-0-0" data-reactid=".9m.1.0.1.0.0.$editor0.0.0.$6kvs7.0:$6kvs7-0-0">"More than the problem, it's my reaction to the problem that created chaos in my life... Do not react in life. Always respond.... Reactions are always instinctive whereas responses are always well thought of... "</span></div>
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<span data-offset-key="8n4bi-0-0" data-reactid=".9m.1.0.1.0.0.$editor0.0.0.$8n4bi.0:$8n4bi-0-0"><br data-reactid=".9m.1.0.1.0.0.$editor0.0.0.$8n4bi.0:$8n4bi-0-0.0" /></span></div>
<div class="_209g _2vxa" data-block="true" data-offset-key="ce73v-0-0" data-reactid=".9m.1.0.1.0.0.$editor0.0.0.$ce73v" style="background-color: white; color: #373e4d; direction: ltr; font-family: helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; position: relative; white-space: pre-wrap;">
<span data-offset-key="ce73v-0-0" data-reactid=".9m.1.0.1.0.0.$editor0.0.0.$ce73v.0:$ce73v-0-0">-- The Cockroach Theory for Self-development</span></div>
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<span data-offset-key="3dkjl-0-0" data-reactid=".9m.1.0.1.0.0.$editor0.0.0.$3dkjl.0:$3dkjl-0-0"><br data-reactid=".9m.1.0.1.0.0.$editor0.0.0.$3dkjl.0:$3dkjl-0-0.0" /></span></div>
<div class="_209g _2vxa" data-block="true" data-offset-key="1c6o4-0-0" data-reactid=".9m.1.0.1.0.0.$editor0.0.0.$1c6o4" style="background-color: white; color: #373e4d; direction: ltr; font-family: helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; position: relative; white-space: pre-wrap;">
<span data-offset-key="1c6o4-0-0" data-reactid=".9m.1.0.1.0.0.$editor0.0.0.$1c6o4.0:$1c6o4-0-0">Posted 2 years ago. Made me think, yes, makes damn sense. It may not be easy to always try to think logically whenever a situation causes one to lose his temper. But at least let us be aware that after the rants and instinctive violent reactions, we should try to calm the eff down and actually do something sensible about it. </span></div>
<div class="_209g _2vxa" data-block="true" data-offset-key="se09-0-0" data-reactid=".9m.1.0.1.0.0.$editor0.0.0.$se09" style="background-color: white; color: #373e4d; direction: ltr; font-family: helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; position: relative; white-space: pre-wrap;">
<span data-offset-key="se09-0-0" data-reactid=".9m.1.0.1.0.0.$editor0.0.0.$se09.0:$se09-0-0"><br data-reactid=".9m.1.0.1.0.0.$editor0.0.0.$se09.0:$se09-0-0.0" /></span></div>
<div class="_209g _2vxa" data-block="true" data-offset-key="atmib-0-0" data-reactid=".9m.1.0.1.0.0.$editor0.0.0.$atmib" style="background-color: white; color: #373e4d; direction: ltr; font-family: helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; position: relative; white-space: pre-wrap;">
<span data-offset-key="atmib-0-0" data-reactid=".9m.1.0.1.0.0.$editor0.0.0.$atmib.0:$atmib-0-0">Don't get yourself all riled up and end up doing nothing helpful.</span></div>
<div class="_209g _2vxa" data-block="true" data-offset-key="atmib-0-0" data-reactid=".9m.1.0.1.0.0.$editor0.0.0.$atmib" style="background-color: white; color: #373e4d; direction: ltr; font-family: helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; position: relative; white-space: pre-wrap;">
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<span class="_5u8n" data-offset-key="2oh81-0-0" data-reactid=".9m.1.0.1.0.0.$editor0.0.0.$2oh81.$2oh81-0-0" spellcheck="false" style="background-color: rgba(88, 144, 255, 0.14902); border-bottom-color: rgba(88, 144, 255, 0.298039); border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-width: 1px;"><span data-offset-key="2oh81-0-0" data-reactid=".9m.1.0.1.0.0.$editor0.0.0.$2oh81.$2oh81-0-0.$2oh81-0-0"><span data-reactid=".9m.1.0.1.0.0.$editor0.0.0.$2oh81.$2oh81-0-0.$2oh81-0-0.0">#thinkingOutLoud</span></span></span><span data-offset-key="2oh81-1-0" data-reactid=".9m.1.0.1.0.0.$editor0.0.0.$2oh81.1:$2oh81-1-0"> </span><span class="_5u8n" data-offset-key="2oh81-2-0" data-reactid=".9m.1.0.1.0.0.$editor0.0.0.$2oh81.$2oh81-2-0" spellcheck="false" style="background-color: rgba(88, 144, 255, 0.14902); border-bottom-color: rgba(88, 144, 255, 0.298039); border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-width: 1px;"><span data-offset-key="2oh81-2-0" data-reactid=".9m.1.0.1.0.0.$editor0.0.0.$2oh81.$2oh81-2-0.$2oh81-2-0"><span data-reactid=".9m.1.0.1.0.0.$editor0.0.0.$2oh81.$2oh81-2-0.$2oh81-2-0.0">#justsaying</span></span></span></div>
<br />
<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/165/F865ACF85D5BEB33A36AF8136F136573.png" style="background: transparent; border: 0 !important;" /></a>Unica Ivahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12647470287818852114noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1228651701231452684.post-18979983805847782622015-05-17T08:31:00.000+08:002015-05-17T08:31:00.479+08:00I'm not old. I just grew up.Sometimes, we have to shake things up so it can fall into place.<br />
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
I have felt my poignant transition from being a yuppie with a kid to being a mother the moment I left the country. Being an only child, that was, I think, the biggest decision I had to make in my life, and for all intents and purposes, the hardest one too.</div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
Freedom to decide and act on my choices was what I was lacking then. I was caged in a situation wherein I was dependent on someone for every aspect of my life because my child was still young and I didn't have a nanny. I was struggling to come to terms with not being able to move on my own, plus the fact that I was a fumbling first-time mother.</div>
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But then we moved to a safe country where there are regulated childcare services, and where I could bring my child literally anywhere using public transport, without fearing for our safety. This was it, I had my freedom -- no, not from my child or my responsibilities, but freedom from the limitations that repeatedly pulled me down as I tried to get back up.</div>
<br />
I started to grow up and my mindset has changed. Before, I would often dwell on the few wants that I had and how I "had to" deprive myself of them. Now, my wants took the trunk (not just the backseat, lol), and my family's needs took the wheel not because I "had to", but because I wanted to. I had the freedom to do what I had to for my family, I can act on the choices made for my family, and yes, I can do it on my own. Maybe that was what I needed in the first place.<br />
<br />
I honestly do not know if some people were surprised that I can actually manage to survive living far away from my parents and having to take care of my own family, but hey, yeah, I can. :)<br />
<br />
I'm currently in a balancing act of juggling motherhood, homemaking and career. One always ends up a bit compromised, yes the homemaking part usually lol, but we are surviving the best way we can.<br />
<br />
I also realized that maybe it's okay to do some things for myself too, and not feel guilty about it. So I'm starting to put a little more Ivah in my life brimming with EJ & Jon. And I'm excited about it.<br />
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I only grew old by a couple of years. But I grew up 10 times. :)<br />
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<br />
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<br />
<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/165/F865ACF85D5BEB33A36AF8136F136573.png" style="background: transparent; border: 0 !important;" /></a>Unica Ivahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12647470287818852114noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1228651701231452684.post-41024816956882947152014-07-01T12:28:00.001+08:002014-07-01T12:32:11.250+08:00Rainbow Loom = Crochet + Embroidery of the 21st CenturyNow I know why our Grannies were into crocheting and embroidery. Substitute yarns and threads with small rubber bands and BAM! Rainbow Loom! And this is therapeutic. Too bad I couldn't find the crochet hooks I inherited from my Lola. Yep, those metal crochet hooks are being used to create the more intricate loom charms and designs.<br />
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My Lola taught me the basics of crocheting, sort of like the fishtail rainbow loom we have right now, but waaaay wayyy smaller. Hmmm. If she were alive, I think she would appreciate rainbow looms as well :)<br />
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So, I'm letting myself enjoy this. And props to my hubby for supporting me on this. He loves the bracelets I made, especially the Flower Garden one. But we gotta make sure we do everything in moderation. Like make sure you get schoolwork or housework or work done as well. Which reminds me, yep, gotta split. Places to go, errands to do.<br />
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Note: I made these, but they are NOT my designs. Credits to the original designers. I included the links of the videos.<br />
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Credits: Shoutout to Creativity4Kids for this Youtube Tutorial.</div>
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<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lSklWmRQync">Click here to watch the Tutorial Video</a></div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNnVljwzjGxV-Hc4_eVEgV9X1oMum4rsQ9eiBFyn0RcF96fb25b61js1qBgVP2lkgKNTqi4IawMKFPXG8Dl_fvzPa3InGW0_uluQCojG48HqPgGgDJMV9-N9WgOFYho5PUDDshmiHX9rWf/s1600/10487581_10152132152945723_6622638634622336093_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNnVljwzjGxV-Hc4_eVEgV9X1oMum4rsQ9eiBFyn0RcF96fb25b61js1qBgVP2lkgKNTqi4IawMKFPXG8Dl_fvzPa3InGW0_uluQCojG48HqPgGgDJMV9-N9WgOFYho5PUDDshmiHX9rWf/s1600/10487581_10152132152945723_6622638634622336093_n.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
Shoutout to Rob of @justinstoys for his Spiral Wrap Fishtail design</div>
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<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=myZ5AvaEx-U">Click here to watch the Tutorial Video</a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdKF28-Z4VSZw1LcS3mpZ0rN5K8DBouvsumMaXQKfvrnPn8m5gzYv3JlvgTa93xL8QRJkksWLCvBfn_X41Pxm0ZIHgseQFbkN0IMZoKaVjy18693O-rfFwh0MpUwt52RP2_NTQfbV3CFCn/s1600/10377365_10152135501085723_6139972749969322639_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdKF28-Z4VSZw1LcS3mpZ0rN5K8DBouvsumMaXQKfvrnPn8m5gzYv3JlvgTa93xL8QRJkksWLCvBfn_X41Pxm0ZIHgseQFbkN0IMZoKaVjy18693O-rfFwh0MpUwt52RP2_NTQfbV3CFCn/s1600/10377365_10152135501085723_6139972749969322639_n.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></div>
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<br />
<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/165/F865ACF85D5BEB33A36AF8136F136573.png" style="background: transparent; border: 0 !important;" /></a>Unica Ivahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12647470287818852114noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1228651701231452684.post-90945489098265111562014-03-18T20:16:00.002+08:002014-03-18T20:21:47.710+08:00I Thought Education Dictated Breeding?I thought it did.<br />
<br />
That's why it is so sad that people keep proving me wrong. When a close friend told me how people around her can easily judge her through her facebook posts, it got me thinking, oh well, that sounds familiar. Been there -- err still there, actually.
But when she proceeded to tell me how those people, who were supposedly professionals, were actually talking about her academic achievements, healthy lifestyle etc like it's a bad thing, I was like, what the f-ck?! Okay that's ridiculously stupid. It disappointed me to be reminded that even people of high educational status, of supposedly well connected background, would stoop so low as to badmouth someone for being good. That's ENVY, people. Old ugly green envy. I truly hope that their supposedly "high level of education" can allow them to eventually understand and realize the absurdity and preposterousness of what they are saying.<br />
<br />
So from wanting to literally smack their heads in the hopes of knocking some sense into it -- which may be fruitless considering their narrowmindedness -- I took the high road and actually told my friend to just smile (through gritted teeth LOL) and keep a low profile... And continue to post happy and glamorous stuff on Facebook to make them even more filthy green with envy, so green they might actually give The Hulk a run for his money. LOLOLOL.<br />
<br />
Aaand of course I told her to just focus on her dreams and blessings.<br />
<br />
Constructive criticism is different from being a judgemental gossip-monger. Be sure not to cross those lines.<br />
<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/165/F865ACF85D5BEB33A36AF8136F136573.png" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; border-bottom-width: 0px !important; border-color: initial !important; border-left-width: 0px !important; border-right-width: 0px !important; border-style: initial !important; border-top-width: 0px !important;" /></a>Unica Ivahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12647470287818852114noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1228651701231452684.post-10189291426595519462013-03-24T12:37:00.000+08:002013-03-24T12:38:08.354+08:00Piss Me Off and I (Micro) Blog About It<span style="color: #333333; font-family: lucida grande, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="line-height: 18px;">Times have changed. I used to express my thoughts at length through blogs, or poems even. But the past couple of years did not allow for leisurely putting my feelings into words through a blog. I have since learned to say it in a few sentences, usually just through FB statuses. (Micro blogging sucked me in and cramped my damn style.) And more recently, I have learned to express it through bitch-fit memes. Photo quotes that bite. Well, they usually do.</span></span><br />
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: lucida grande, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: lucida grande, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="line-height: 18px;">The people who knew me since elementary / highschool have seen my goody-two-shoes phase. I don't confront, because there is usually no need to, because there is usually no conflict. I do not create conflicts, I try to please everybody, I basically just get along smoothly with people around me. My friends often run to me to settle their conflicts with other people, or I try to patch them up on my own. Ever the pacifist. Ms. Congeniality.</span></span><br />
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: lucida grande, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: lucida grande, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="line-height: 18px;">Then I grew up, and cynicism started crawling in. I became more outspoken, I started blogging and expressing myself openly. Raising an eyebrow became a habit, and snide remarks became normal. Yeah, that's a mark of growing up. Ha!</span></span><br />
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: lucida grande, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: lucida grande, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="line-height: 18px;">Then LIFE finally happened. Dealing with the kind of people I have never dealt with before -- ranging from demanding to pleading clients, arrogant officers and bosses, powerful and influential contacts, etc. Changing industries and careers. Getting married and having a son. Giving up my career and being an OFW's wife. Learning to cope with difficulties on my own here. First time parenthood, and single-parenthood at that. Co-managing a dance studio while taking care of my son. Worrying about what happens to me, my career, my brains, my spunk. All that and no time for blogs, until now.</span></span><br />
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: lucida grande, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: lucida grande, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="line-height: 18px;">Sometimes I feel underestimated when some think I am being complacent. Complacency is different from not being able to find suitable options as of the moment. Life decisions are hard because of financial and circumstantial limitations. But it does not leave my mind. Not talking about it all the time does not mean I'm not thinking about it. Sometimes all we can do is wait for the right time, while exploring our options. It is easy to figure out interim solutions but I'm looking beyond the short term. There can be no "bahala na" when my kid's life will be affected.</span></span><br />
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small; line-height: 18px;">Sometimes I feel helpless. Sometimes trapped. I feel frustrated that as much as I want to do something to help my family, I can't. Because I can't leave the house, I can't do full-time work, because there's no yaya and there are pending migration options. It's different for people who have the freedom to do everything they can to achieve their goals. They could fail, they could get burnt out, but they know they've done what they can and that they can do it again and even do more. But for me, it's frustrating to be limited in my movements, options, choices. More frustrating when people think I'm not doing anything on purpose. Add cream on top of that when I'm doing my best given my situation but I get bypassed or caught off guard in my own territory. How's that for dessert?</span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small; line-height: 18px;">I'm at the crossroads. Criss-effin'-crossed, with confusing signs and conflicting directions. </span><br />
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small; line-height: 18px;">Now I am learning to stand my ground. Often times it is hard to get my point across, especially if the other side refuses to listen. Sometimes I don't even have the chance to, and all I have to hold on to are my principles and reason. Sometimes it is useless to emphasize my point, because people will still say what they want. So do I let it go, just like I used to? Nope.</span><br />
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small; line-height: 18px;">I'm not a pacifist anymore.</span><br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/165/F865ACF85D5BEB33A36AF8136F136573.png" style="background: transparent; border: 0 !important;" /></a>Unica Ivahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12647470287818852114noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1228651701231452684.post-79436110884836631822012-07-22T04:00:00.000+08:002012-07-22T04:00:11.966+08:00Shoulda Woulda CouldaI am generally a positive person. If one asks me that famous question "What is your greatest regret in life?", I would say nothing major-major in my most beauty-pageant-esque manner. Nothing major, but I didn't say there was none at all. I do have a few shoulda-woulda-coulda moments that sometimes make me wonder, what if?
<br/><br/>
Should've danced (really danced) when I could (as in really could)<br/>
Should've travelled (really far like out of asia) while my money was still mine (as in just mine)<br/>
Should've entered law school (yep, really) while I had the chance (sucks that I lacked social science units because I had a techncal course)<br/>
Should've pursued that ethical hacking course (almost did) if only there was a chance I'd be working for Interpol (seriously, where would I use it here? Even the tuition for the course is in USD. Ergo, no Philippine market just yet.)<br/>
Should've tried being a part-time barista (missing my barista friends) while taking short courses in (insert name of rival school here. Sorry.) <br/>
Should've tried renting an apartment with friends (wait... I did) that is NOT for thesis purposes (oh. Right.)<br>
.....and lots of other stuff buried in my subconscious.
<br/><br/>
But then again, if any of these happened especially for the long term, maybe I wouldn't be having the life I have right now.
<br/><br/>
I love my life -- for the most part (haha) so I guess that's enough to justify why these things didn't happen.
<br/><br/>
Trivial should'ves, wondering if I would've if I could've. Something to ponder on.
<br/><br/>
<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/165/F865ACF85D5BEB33A36AF8136F136573.png" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px !important; border-color: initial !important; border-left-width: 0px !important; border-right-width: 0px !important; border-style: initial !important; border-top-width: 0px !important;" /></a><br />
<br />Unica Ivahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12647470287818852114noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1228651701231452684.post-91239947440655302292012-07-07T20:20:00.001+08:002012-07-08T10:01:20.679+08:00What goes up.... Doesn't stay thereIt's called "gravity" in science. But sometimes it's just called "Life". <br />
<br />
Have you ever noticed those times when everything is smooth and under your control, then a series of events happen the effs everything up? It's those times that I feel scared to be very happy again because I start to wonder what the consequence of it might be. But life's too short to be scared to be happy. Whatever the consequence is, it's gonna happen anyway. So might as well be happy, right? Well, easier said than done. <br />
<br />
I'm generally a very positive person. But I also have off-days (when I'm hormonally imbalanced haha) when I find myself being realistic. What goes up doesn't stay there. There will always be pitfalls in life. Bumps that need to be endured, with bruises to show for it. But the important thing is how you live your life while you're up there. Do you go all YOLO and wild and free? Or do you live wisely, prepared in case you fall down? Similarly, how do you live when you're down there? Do you go down for the count or refuse to stop getting back up?<br />
<br />
People who have experienced how it sucks to fall down appreciate the feeling of going back on top even more. It's sweeter. More meaningful. And when their road gets bumpy? They know how to deal with it, and things eventually return to normal. It's a cycle we all experience, some probably more often than others. We just have to pick up things to learn on the way, so we don't make the same mistakes again. <br />
<br />
Through it all, what is important is a strong support system. One that keeps you grounded while you're up there and lifts you up -- may it be by the collar, by the hair, by the leg, or whatever means necessary -- while you're down there.
<br /><br />
<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/165/F865ACF85D5BEB33A36AF8136F136573.png" style="background: transparent; border: 0 !important;" /></a>Unica Ivahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12647470287818852114noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1228651701231452684.post-73940676381496076532012-04-30T22:53:00.001+08:002012-04-30T22:53:34.048+08:00Who's Counting?<blockquote class="tr_bq">
"Don't count the things you have done for someone else; count the number of times you felt better simply because you made them smile."</blockquote>
<br />
Actually, if you love and care for someone, you shouldn't count at all. You just feel. You should relish the feeling that you were able to make that someone smile. Quit counting, measuring, comparing.... Because once you start, the mental tick marks will never go away.<br />
<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/165/F865ACF85D5BEB33A36AF8136F136573.png" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; border-bottom-width: 0px !important; border-color: initial !important; border-image: initial !important; border-left-width: 0px !important; border-right-width: 0px !important; border-style: initial !important; border-top-width: 0px !important;" /></a>Unica Ivahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12647470287818852114noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1228651701231452684.post-85895531029331012452012-01-06T08:26:00.001+08:002012-01-06T11:18:45.332+08:00My Restless Heart -- I Mean HairGoing to a salon you or your friends have never tried (however known) can be quite scary. Yeah, I learned that yesterday. <br />
<br />
To avoid the waiting lines at Bench Fix, I impulsively ventured to go to Regine's, having no idea what to expect from there. <br />
<br />
But it was still with mild alarm that I realize that the woman shampooing me was not the usual my-age-shampoo-girl. She was older, like 40's. Okaaay so I started bracing myself for whoever was gonna cut my hair. <br />
<br />
Seated on the chair, I looked in horror when another "nanay" type was pushing a cubby going to where I was seated. What even puzzled me was the big bag in the cubby. I was used to parlor cubbies to have trays for the scissors and stuff, not an overnight bag. And her first question made me panic a little,"Anong hairstyle mo? Bob cut?" which is something I've been having as a little kid. Which I absolutely did NOT want to have right now. So I tried to explain. <br />
<br />
"Gusto ko po ung hindi mashdo maikli pero hndi conventional, ung hindi pantay pantay.... Ung parang korean." I was avoiding the use of the word "Layered" because I've been having that for a couple of years now. And so she said,<br />
<br />
"Ah, so i-le-layered ko lng ung hair mo, pra mgka-body." <br />
<br />
I was thinking, oh no. Layered nnmn ba style ko? So I said," Opo, pro hndi pantay." Then she proceeded to chop off my hair. I seriously doubted if she got what I meant, and I was honestly starting to think how much it would cost me to have another haircut in another salon, when I noticed that despite the seemingly haphazard way of chopping my hair off, it was actually turning out different from my usual layered looks. So I told her to leave one side long. I did this with Ystilo and the stylist said it won't look good. This time, nanay simply asked," San side mo gusto?" then I started to smile. <br />
<br />
After the blow-dry and the finishing touches, the manangs and nanays there were staring at me like I was some crazy girl, but they did say it was nice. In the end, my nanay stylist actually GOT what I wanted probably because she simply DID what I wanted. Thanks, nanay. Other stylists have a mind of their own and would not heed to your request. And ironically, this is my most asymmetric hairstyle so far, done in the most unlikely type of salon by the most motherly stylist I have ever had. EPIC WIN.<br />
<br />
Oh. And the best part:<br />
Receptionist to my nanay stylist: "Ate, si mam kasunod ha." (points to the client after me)<br />
My nanay stylist: "Cge. Ano, gusto ba nya ganituhin ko din cya?" (gesturing to my hurrdo)<br />
Receptionist: (Surprised) "Naku hindi hindi. Conventional lang knya, hindi cya creation."<br />
<br />
CREATION?! Haha!<br />
<br />
<br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-FZgwCLhEboA/TwZn-RcxmHI/AAAAAAAAAbk/JCHjl3sLzOI/s1600/photo+%25283%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-FZgwCLhEboA/TwZn-RcxmHI/AAAAAAAAAbk/JCHjl3sLzOI/s200/photo+%25283%2529.JPG" width="200" /></a></div>
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<br />
<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/165/F865ACF85D5BEB33A36AF8136F136573.png" style="background: transparent; border: 0 !important;" /></a>Unica Ivahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12647470287818852114noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1228651701231452684.post-29486987032626403542012-01-04T12:16:00.002+08:002012-01-06T08:28:57.277+08:002011: The Bipolar YearFrom being buried deep into corporate-IT-world-politics to being isolated at home mommyhooding to being an OFW's wife.<br />
<br />
From being "I am a document specialist and I have no life" to regaining my passion for dancing and being part of a dance studio.<br />
<br />
From finding Twitter and FB a burden, to clinging onto them for dear life, as they are my only connection to the outside world.<br />
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From losing my mood to blog, to blogging more than 10 entries in a month (but due to my busy schedule, it hasn't happened again).<br />
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From changing my wardrobe one size bigger to changing back to my previous pre-wedding clothes.<br />
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From someone who can't get out of the house, to 7 days of loitering and mall-hopping in a foreign place.<br />
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From sleeping in a queen sized bed to sleeping in a playpen.<br />
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From dealing with loads of documents and files, to dealing with loads of laundry.<br />
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From reading a book in a day, to not even having the chance to open the plastic cover after months of buying one. (I'm sorry, Dan Brown. I'll get to read you someday. Just stay snug and sealed for the meantime.)<br />
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From moving in a corporate world, to drowning into mommy-world, to finding my own world.<br />
<br />
Me as a career mom, Me as a mom, Me as ME.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/165/F865ACF85D5BEB33A36AF8136F136573.png" style="background: transparent; border: 0 !important;" /></a>Unica Ivahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12647470287818852114noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1228651701231452684.post-83699109367963450532011-11-19T01:29:00.001+08:002011-11-19T01:40:03.937+08:00Life UnexpectedThis day was a day of unexpected happenings. Unexpected errands, unexpected events, unexpected dinner date, unexpected reasons to smile. Some created bad vibes but I'd like to focus on the good ones instead.<br />
<br />
Spontaneity is one thing I couldn't afford, because of the people I have to answer to (a.k.a. my parents and my son). I was pleasantly surprised that I was able to experience that tonight, despite what I would have thought was a setback. It was fun to be free for a couple of hours, having ME time and shopping for myself (which I seldom do -- yes, for real) then having dinner and catching up with a dear girlfriend, reminiscing and talking about the past and the present, like two highschool girls on a slumber party. A <i>very interesting and juicy slumber party</i>. LOL.<br />
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Thank God for little reasons to smile at the end of the day.<br />
<br />
Now I just have to find a way to sleep, after having a double trouble dose of caffeine courtesy of Serenitea's Chocolate Milk Tea drink.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/165/F865ACF85D5BEB33A36AF8136F136573.png" style="background: transparent; border: 0 !important;" /></a>Unica Ivahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12647470287818852114noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1228651701231452684.post-69077092296670896512011-11-17T19:13:00.001+08:002011-11-18T04:11:38.450+08:00Passion: The thin line between MAKE or BREAKIt is sometimes ironic that the very thing that could make you might also be the Achilles heel that could break you.<br />
<br />
Passion in itself, IMO, is neither good nor bad. It is simply the presence of a strong emotion, desire, determination or drive. It is the <i>"For what?"</i>, <i>"With what?" </i>and <i>"Then what?"</i> that determines its fate.<br />
<br />
Passion <i>for what?</i> That's the premise. It could be for family and loved ones. It could be for a special someone. It could be for a certain skill, or a certain cause. It could be for a job or a dream or an ambition. <i>With what?</i> What do you do about it? I guess this is where the battle of good and evil starts. Do you express your passion through hard work or through cheating? (Do you work hard to cheat just to succeed?) Do you show it through caring or hurting? (Do you care so much that you would hurt another?) Classic and basic: Is is good or bad? Okay, maybe with some gray areas. Lastly, <i>then what?</i> Consequences. What happens next? Is it good or bad for you in the long run? Is it good or bad for the people around you? Again, classic and basic: it good or bad -- period?<br />
<br />
The end does not always justify the means. The consequences, however good, does not cancel the wrong decisions made in order to achieve it. Sometimes things work out for the better, some for the worse. <i>Sometimes you have to deal but all the time you have to kneel.</i><br />
<br />
In the throes of fiery passion, when your heart and mind is consumed with loathing and hatred, logical thinking is quite understandably not (yet) an option. But once the flames die down and you find yourself just looking at the ashes, think -- or try to think -- if the consequences are worth it.<br />
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Passion is strong. It could make the impossible possible, the unreachable within arm's length, the dreams into reality. Passion is what drives us, what keeps us going, and what makes our lives worthwhile. However, passion for the wrong reasons do not lead to something good. Passion for the right reasons, on the other hand, however imperfect and improbable they may be, has a good chance of working out. Eventually.<br />
<br />
Keep it in check. :)<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/165/F865ACF85D5BEB33A36AF8136F136573.png" style="background: transparent; border: 0 !important;" /></a>Unica Ivahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12647470287818852114noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1228651701231452684.post-92009306438480956892011-11-01T02:31:00.001+08:002011-11-01T02:32:47.001+08:00Unpretty<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<i>"<span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">U know that time when you don't feel pretty, ur face is breaking out, whatever u wear doesn't feel comfy, ur hair has a mind of its own, and your confidence is in an all time low? This is one of those times you need a partner to assure you that you're still pretty, ur hair is fine, u look good and that most of all, you are loved." -- FB Stat Unica Ivah, October 31, 2011</span></i></blockquote>
And no, this has nothing to do with an ugly Halloween costume. This is unfortunately real. Bright side -- I have the "Umph" to write even at 1:41am. Down side -- this is real. Haha.<br />
<br />
Well I guess we all go through a time when nothing feels happy-yippie-yehey. I am in one. I've been having acidic attacks all week. Me time cancelled. Face breaking out, screaming for a facial. Clothes don't feel right --too hot, too loose, too bare, too casual, too dressy etc. Hair having a lockout, just like the NBA. Confidence tipping low on the scale, together with happy juice, good vibes and positive energy probably because of things happening at the same time -- and they're not exactly good ones. The best I could do is to keep myself busy so I won't feel the funk. Well, it's actually quite effortless since I AM busy especially with major decisions that have to be made soon. The point being, despite being naturally busy, I feel the funk. Not all the time, not every second, but it pops up every time my mind tries to relax. It's this sad, anxious, heavy gut feeling I hate having, which may be the reason why nothing feels right on the outside as well.<br />
<br />
I guess what I need, aside from a damn good time with my crazy friends, is the assurance that things are okay and that things are gonna be okay. The assurance of being pretty is primarily just a superficial representation of the need of a support system, a security blanket or an extra padlock to make me feel safe. Yup, even the woman behind the successful man need assurance from time to time too.<br />
<br />
And, as I tweeted, it is also amazing how a simple text from an old friend can make me feel better. Just because he cared enough to say good night and let me know he read my stat. I guess you really get to appreciate those unexpected little things especially when the expected things don't happen.<br />
<br />
Looking forward to a crazy movie date with friends (after years of not having one). Hoping I would feel "prettier" by then.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/165/F865ACF85D5BEB33A36AF8136F136573.png" style="background: transparent; border: 0 !important;" /></a>Unica Ivahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12647470287818852114noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1228651701231452684.post-86988362719432836042011-10-05T12:38:00.003+08:002011-10-05T12:43:00.082+08:00Who Am I?Who am I?<br />
<br />
Let me start by defining who I am NOT.<br />
<br />
<ul>
<li>I am not Superwoman. I get tired, stressed and cranky at the end of the day because I cannot always handle physical and mental stress perfectly. I cannot save the world, neither can I change it.</li>
<li>I am not Flash. I cannot move at lightning speed. I cannot run from one place to another in a matter of seconds.</li>
<li>I am not Merlin -- or a female version of him. I cannot predict what will happen and prevent it from happening. </li>
<li>I am not Harry Potter -- err -- Hermione, that is. Aside from the fact that I am not that smart, I do not have spells and potions and curses to use to make everything alright.</li>
<li>I am not psychic. I want to be, and I think I have the potential to develop my mind's sensitivity to reach another level but as of now, no, I cannot read everyone's minds. Ergo, I cannot please everybody.</li>
<li>I am not a hermit. I cannot stay cooped up in a certain place without any contact with the outside world. Well, except if it is in Calaguas Island or somewhere exotic -- but that's a different story.</li>
</ul>
<div>
Having established my boundaries as a normal person, maybe I can define who I am. In a nutshell.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br />
<ul>
<li>I am a woman trying to find her place in the sun. I am moving in a new world, one that is unfortunately ruled by old school movers and shakers. I have left a decade-long life to venture into a new one and I am learning a lot, enjoying a lot, and am grateful -- a lot too. However, I am also stumbling a lot, falling a lot, and doubting a lot. Doubting whether I'll be good enough, efficient enough, sane enough. </li>
<li>I am a woman who is also trying to find herself. After a decade of being a yuppie, I am no longer one. So what do I want to do and who do I want to be? </li>
<li>I am a new mother. Yes, 19 months is fairly new. I am a mother, but that is not the be all and end all of my existence. The old school point of view dictates that a mother has to give up everything, including her identity, her whole being, to raise her child. I beg to disagree. A mother does not need to lose her identity in order to raise her child. How can someone who does not even know herself succeed in raising a child to be a whole person? Too much of anything is still not a good thing. I believe that a mother has to balance everything -- time for child, family, and herself -- in order to have a good relationship with the people around her.</li>
</ul>
</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
So, who am I? </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I'm still finding out. I'll let you know.</div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/165/F865ACF85D5BEB33A36AF8136F136573.png" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; border-bottom-width: 0px !important; border-color: initial !important; border-left-width: 0px !important; border-right-width: 0px !important; border-style: initial !important; border-top-width: 0px !important;" /></a>Unica Ivahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12647470287818852114noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1228651701231452684.post-75711401309406206462011-08-09T23:49:00.001+08:002011-10-21T17:02:54.372+08:00Isang Bayaran....<blockquote>"Binabayaran lang naman tayo para sa oras natin, hindi sa kung ano talaga ang kaya nating gawin."</blockquote><br />
Ganyan daw ang corporate life. Sabi ko, "Sheeet, oo nga ano?!?" Narealize ko na tama, no matter what you do, swelduhan ka eh. Fixed ang bayad sayo, pwera nlng pag mag-overtime ka. Parang kahit na sobrang magpaka-bibo hotdog ka ngyong linggong ito, at sobrang magJuanTamad-tamaran ka sa susunod na linggo, ang ending eh pareho pa rin ang sweldo mo sa kinsenas at katapusan.<br />
<br />
Nagbilang ako bigla: almost 9 years pla ako sa corporate world. Konti nlng, isang dekada na. No wonder nagulat ako sa panibagong perspective na ito. May point nga. Kaya pala may iba na mas gugustuhin ung commission basis na type of work kasi yun ang literal na "earnings" -- you earn what you work for. Directly proportional cya. Ang downside lng dito is the unstability of the income because it is dependent on your performance. Palong-palo ka ng bongga dahil sinwerte ka sa clients and/or na-meet mo quota etc pero pag nataon na may calamity or unforeseen circumstance na makaka-hinder sa trabaho mo, wala din nmn kita.<br />
<br />
Which is why I really admire the people in that field of work. I should know, my mom is in one. Alam kong sila palagi ung pressured sa sarili nila kasi dependent yung income sa performance. True success in that kind of business lies in the fact that you consider yourself as your biggest competitor. Kasi if you consider yourself as your biggest competitor, you will never be complacent. Walang salitang "petiks". Lagi mo pagbubutihan. And this translates to income.<br />
<br />
Kudos to those people who thrive in these kinds of challenges. Mabuhay kayo. Hndi man ako para jan, alam ko ang hirap ng ganyang klaseng trabaho. I guess it just so happened na nakagisnan ko at malamang mas ggustuhin ko pa rin maging isang "bayarang" kinsenas-katapusan. :)<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/165/F865ACF85D5BEB33A36AF8136F136573.png" style="background: transparent; border: 0 !important;" /></a>Unica Ivahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12647470287818852114noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1228651701231452684.post-11529582508244564232011-07-28T20:49:00.000+08:002011-07-28T20:49:06.572+08:00When Nothing Feels Right, Look At The Back of the ClosetAs I was dressing up to go out, nothin I wore felt right. Coz everything was in the laundry. Just when I was about to wear blahblah, I saw my old favorite baby tee which I stuffed at the back of my closet (yeah yeah coz it didn't fit me anymore lol). I last used it around 2007, I think. Well, I couldn't resist trying it on. And lo and behold, it fit!! Weeeeee!!! <br />
<br />
Well, such is life. There will be times when nothing feels right and you just wanna give up and stare at the ceiling. But maybe we just have to look elsewhere, even in unlikely places, coz we'll never know where we might find an old stash of positive vibes. Maybe someone just might say or do something to make you smile. Or you'll come across something to remind you of reasons to smile. Or you'll realize one of your reasons for smiling is just there, you just have to "see". :))<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/165/F865ACF85D5BEB33A36AF8136F136573.png" style="border: 0 !important; background: transparent;"/></a>Unica Ivahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12647470287818852114noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1228651701231452684.post-84735831749893485612011-07-18T08:33:00.000+08:002011-07-18T08:33:23.946+08:00Up, Up, and Away...Literally<div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Just for the uniqueness of it, I decided to write a blog from the plane, chronicling my solo flight to Singapore. Of course this would be posted later at the hotel, when I get wifi.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I actually thought that flying solo would be a drag, and that I would be bored and uncomfortable. My previous trips always had fun companions, and there were always things to talk about and stuff to do and pictures to take until we eventually fall asleep. But what do I do when I’m alone? I can’t talk to myself, I definitely can’t take pictures of myself nor could I wiggle around and do whatever. What to do?<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Luckily I found out (surprisingly) that I do well alone, despite being a girl (haha I look like one, anyway). I actually enjoyed people watching, something I used to do a lot during my college days. I checked out the shops in the airport (thank goodness NAIA 3 was nice and new). I grabbed a bite alone (thank you Mr. Donut) – something I don’t normally do (I could never get used to eating alone, dunno why). Thanks to free wifi I enjoyed browsing a bit and checking into foursquare and FB. And Twittering a bit too.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Well there was this incident with the immigration that I was particularly not prepared for. The grouchy 40-ish male officer seemed to question why I was going to SG and was asking for proof of my husband’s employment there. And he asked a lot of roundabout questions. Well I was kinda taken aback by it all and I may have not made sense at a certain point but I just gritted my teeth, smiled sweetly and tried to explain as best I can. He eventually stamped my passport. So I muttered a sweet, poison-laced “Thank you”, got my documents, my handcarried luggage and walked inside…. All the while running through the list of profanities in my head. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But all’s well, I’m in the plane high up in the air in one piece. I don’t give a shit what that menopausal (yup he's a guy i know) immigration officer was thinking anymore. I should have remembered that they were strict with women flying alone. Whatever. Times like that I wish I were a guy. LOL.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It’s also my first time to use the loo in an airplane. Heck, it’s my first time to use any loo that wasn’t permanently strapped to the ground. It was kinda weird fixing your pants while being tossed by slight turbulence. Ano ‘to, Maynilad diggings? Butas butas ang daan?<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The next test for me is finding my way in Changi airport. That and running one last errand: Buying booze from Duty Free for my friends (they’re priced double outside the airport). I asked Jon what exactly do I buy? He answered, “Absolut vodka, tapos… basta un!” I was like, whaaaaat?! Anong basta? So may this serve as a disclaimer that if I buy the wrong type of booze, guys, it’s because you didn’t tell me what to buy! LOL!</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Ooops we’re landing in a bit. In that final descent thing that resembles a downward Ferris Wheel.</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Ciaoo!</span></span></div><br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/165/F865ACF85D5BEB33A36AF8136F136573.png" style="background: transparent; border: 0 !important;" /></a>Unica Ivahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12647470287818852114noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1228651701231452684.post-79741255374370796472011-07-16T23:05:00.000+08:002011-07-16T23:05:23.877+08:00Flying Solo...It's gonna be my first time to fly alone. I hope I find my way through the airport. I've been to NAIA 3 before but it was still newly opened at that time (back in January 2009) and there were not much shops -- not much anything, actually, to see. And I remember we had to keep going back and forth to pay this and fill this up and whatnot. So I hope I don't get lost there. Hmmm.. Magnet activated. I shall attract good vibes and shall not be hesitant to ask for directions. And I wish to attract people who give clear directions too. LOL.<br />
<br />
Any prior excitement re this trip is somehow dampened by my separation anxiety (see my other blog <a href="http://unicamudra.blogspot.com/2011/07/separation-anxiety-mine-btw.html">here</a>) from my son. I feel sad leaving him for a week. But I feel extremely blessed that my parents are there to take turns taking care of him. And I am also happy to see my husband, of course, and to be with our friends there, and see the sights, for a change.<br />
<br />
As my friend told me, "Mag bonggang me time ka dun."<br />
I will. :)<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/165/F865ACF85D5BEB33A36AF8136F136573.png" style="background: transparent; border: 0 !important;" /></a>Unica Ivahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12647470287818852114noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1228651701231452684.post-33537008989634953312011-07-13T23:56:00.000+08:002011-07-13T23:56:42.302+08:00Peel off the LabelAfter blogging about having nothing interesting to write about, I had an epiphany. Interesting thoughts shared with my close friend Jen's via her Facebook status:<br />
<blockquote>"Thanks, luv Ü I am blessed that the people who matter to me have never made me feel that I am less of a person just because I'm single. You know I would rather shoot myself than go into a relationship simply for the label or "bragging rights"" -- Jen</blockquote><blockquote>"Some relationships don't even need labels. *wink* And besides, relationship statuses DO NOT make a person. It's who YOU are (to the people who matter) that defines you. Regardless of being single, in a normal or complicated relationship." -- Ivah</blockquote>For my beautiful friend and for whoever can relate to this: let me reiterate that it's who YOU are that should define you. You need not declare any status -- they are merely labels of a certain fact of your life that should just be optionally known. You can have a real relationship even without defining or declaring it. It's between you and the other person. Peel off the label and what's left is what counts.<br />
<br />
I have to admit seeing the relationship statuses of other people may be interesting, but no one has the right to make you feel you are "less of a person" just because of you are single. What, a girl can't be complete without a guy? HELL NO. *bitchy side resurfaces* Okay okay, same goes for guys too.<br />
<br />
There shouldn't be any pressure getting into a relationship. No pressure declaring it either. And if it's for you, then it will happen no matter what. Regardless of day and age.<br />
<br />
Kudos to whatever status you may have -- as long as it's your choice.<br />
<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/165/F865ACF85D5BEB33A36AF8136F136573.png" style="background: transparent; border: 0 !important;" /></a>Unica Ivahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12647470287818852114noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1228651701231452684.post-45097070614635674912011-07-13T23:09:00.000+08:002011-07-13T23:09:15.383+08:00No Mood No WriteI have writer's block. As Bianca Gonzalez tweeted earlier today, she salutes journalists who have deadlines with their articles, because she can't always work on a deadline. If it's too distracting, she can't write. Ditto here. I can't just force myself to write when I don't feel like it.<br />
<br />
Which is why I'm doing a somewhat paradoxial act of writing about my own writer's block. For a change, maybe I should express why I am not in the mood to write by writing about it. Go figure.<br />
<br />
No time. I've been busy mommyhooding that I don't have time to write. I realized that I was able to write the past couple of months because my dad was often there to help me out with EJ since it was summer vacation (he's a teacher). But now, as we speak, a timer is ticking and anytime soon, <i>wowo</i> would "return" my son to me. Tik tok.<br />
<br />
No mood. Probably related to previous reason. If I have no time to write, then I would also have no time to be in a mood for it. Except if I have an extreme emotion, which brings me to the next reason --<br />
<br />
No extreme emotion. I'm steady. Most of the time. My recent extreme emotions I'm able to let it out in another way. Besides, not all extreme emotions are publishable. Haha.<br />
<br />
No interesting topic around me. Why? Because I'm just in the house, damnit. I can't even watch my own channels on cable. It's always tuned to a) Baby TV b) Disney Junior (formerly Playhouse Disney, btw) c) Disney Channel d) Nickolodeon (very seldom). So there are no issues to talk about because I'm shut-out from the world. Except for Facebook and Twitter.<br />
<br />
Facebook & Twitter. I have to admit, some of my short-term rants are already either in Facebook and/or Twitter. Better to let it out as status updates than spend time (which I hardly have) in front of the laptop typing fast about it.<br />
<br />
But I miss blogging. I miss being reflective. I miss being bitchy and cynical. I miss being expressive. I miss having bursting thoughts and emotions I hardly know where to start. I miss that "can't wait to blog about it" feeling. I miss having uncluttered thoughts. I miss writing from the heart.<br />
<br />
I'll get you back. Just you wait.<br />
<br />
This is ME -- Unica Ivah<br />
<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/165/F865ACF85D5BEB33A36AF8136F136573.png" style="background: transparent; border: 0 !important;" /></a>Unica Ivahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12647470287818852114noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1228651701231452684.post-37808067369397598132011-07-03T00:06:00.000+08:002011-07-03T00:06:40.277+08:00My Life is a Fishbowl. And I am the Fish.Such is my life. In a fishbowl where I am the fish and everybody stares at me. I can only hide for a short time in that small castle someone placed in the middle. Wait a minute. Have I not been to the ocean? Why was I yanked from there? Who the heck scooped me up and plopped me here, in the middle of watchful eyes?<br />
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I shun the light, but it follows me everywhere. But then again, my "everywhere" ain't all that big. I'm just in a fishbowl, remember? Tsktsk. Or should I say <i>*blop*blop* (water bubbles)</i>.<br />
<br />
<i>Cliffnotes Version: A logical fallacy is forcing me to conform to a stereotypical (idealistic) image that is molded from the past. Ergo, the watchfulness. Ergo, the desire for paradigm shift. Change of water. Change of aquarium. Back to the ocean.</i><br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/165/F865ACF85D5BEB33A36AF8136F136573.png" style="background: transparent; border: 0 !important;" /></a>Unica Ivahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12647470287818852114noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1228651701231452684.post-17488103907483610072011-06-29T13:31:00.003+08:002011-06-29T16:22:12.608+08:00Kudos to Meralco Alabang Service CenterYup, I never thought I'd see the day that I would actually use that blog title. But I want to give credit where credit is due. Thank you to Mr. Palma and his crew for arriving within an hour of our SOS call.<br />
<br />
Just wanna share this experience in the hopes that somehow it could save someone from the hassle of re-wiring a whole house.<br />
<br />
For about 2 weeks now, we have been noticing fluctuations in our electricity. At first it was just the lights, flickering a bit, then everything's normal again. Once a day probably, just negligible. But the past couple of days, we were noticing even the fans and the aircons were being affected by the fluctuation, and we were getting concerned about the other appliances too. Then this morning, as mom was about to leave for work, the electricity seemed to slowly shut down until it turned off. Then went on again. So my mom went berserk and was bugging me to call Meralco. I did and they said someone would be over within 2-4hrs. <br />
<br />
Thank goodness they got here within the hour. That was fast!! The crew immediately opened the electric meter (kuntador) and a burnt smell filled the air. The right half of the inside was scorched and brittle and the wire was a bit burnt. This picture is what's left of the right panel of the meter. The rest of the pieces I think disintegrated.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9SHYHcSffp-zjBw8aJzNypzGanGKnCXDtCveh9UIuG5j_tkcT0uyl1aYMaKarANQwH0PNDQjMW0NIdHqagJ5NIL3_QE9VIJB47f3VtFHDqJyDqarCv-K73-mGMk6zNM5GBgmX2_g0mBUJ/s1600/photo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9SHYHcSffp-zjBw8aJzNypzGanGKnCXDtCveh9UIuG5j_tkcT0uyl1aYMaKarANQwH0PNDQjMW0NIdHqagJ5NIL3_QE9VIJB47f3VtFHDqJyDqarCv-K73-mGMk6zNM5GBgmX2_g0mBUJ/s320/photo.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br />
They had to re-check and make sure the wire wasn't burned on the inside. If it was, then we have to call an electrician and re-wire the whole house. That is one epic hassle especially with a baby present in the household. We were lucky indeed. A few more hours probably would have consumed the wire. The leadman Mr. Palma said we should've called immediately after we noticed frequent fluctuations. <br />
<br />
So I'm sharing this now because if I was able to read something like this before, I would have acted much sooner. <br />
<br />
So remember. If your lights start to flicker, before thinking of corpses appearing behind you reflected through mirrors, remember you are NOT in a horror movie. Grab your phone and call Meralco instead. Better be safe than sorry. <br />
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And thank God for protecting us from harm. <br />
<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/165/F865ACF85D5BEB33A36AF8136F136573.png" style="background: transparent; border: 0 !important;" /></a>Unica Ivahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12647470287818852114noreply@blogger.com1