Taylor-Fit

"I've never thought about songwriting as a weapon. I've only thought about it as a way to help me get through love and loss and sadness and loneliness and growing up."

“Words can break someone into a million pieces, but they can also put them back together. I hope you use yours for good, because the only words you'll regret more than the ones left unsaid are the ones you use to intentionally hurt someone.”

― Taylor Swift

I am a Swiftie – and I’m proud of it.

I don’t care about her long list of failed relationships (hey, I’m a girl, too), I love her songwriting and I love her songs. Taylor Swift is a girl after my own heart. She writes songs the way I write my stories – full of emotions, at the moment, and so…real. Her way with words, at such a young age, and how she turns her experiences into hit songs, I will always be a fan. I don’t care if her age is closer to my daughter’s. This girl is simply amazing.

There is always a Taylor Swift song for almost anything – when you’re in love, when you’re sad or mad, or happy, when you've just met someone new or when you’re getting over someone, and every emotion there is on the spectrum, as they say. There's not a day in the week that I don't have her on my playlist. There's always a Taylor Day for me.

My Favorite Taylor Songs:

Red

-         A roller coaster of intense emotions, that’s why it’s red. It’s so good, and it’s so bad at the same time. The highs, the lows; the ups, the downs.

Touching him was like realizing all you ever wanted was right there in front of you

Memorizing him was as easy as knowing all the words to your old favorite song

Losing him was blue like I'd never known

Missing him was dark gray all alone

Forgetting him was like trying to know somebody you never met

But loving him was red

Begin Again

-        What can I say, but I love new beginnings, especially after picking up the pieces of a broken heart and the magic brought about by meeting someone new and looking forward to something great.

And you throw your head back laughing like a little kid

I think it's strange that you think I'm funny 'cause he never did

I've been spending the last eight months

Thinking all love ever does is break and burn and end

But on a Wednesday in a cafe I watched it begin again

Enchanted

-        The enchantment of meeting someone, it’s like floating after having that connection, of being alive after a long time, and you can’t stop thinking of that someone.

This is me praying that

This was the very first page

Not where the story line ends

My thoughts will echo your name

Until I see you again

These are the words I held back

As I was leaving too soon

I was enchanted to meet you

Back to December

-        When you look back at a romance with regret for having ended it. Sort of like an apology song.

Maybe this is wishful thinking,

Probably mindless dreaming,

But if we loved again, I swear I'd love you right.

I Almost Do

-        Of missing someone and resisting the urge to call, knowing it’s a bad idea.

And I just wanna tell you

It takes everything in me not to call you.

And I wish I could run to you.

And I hope you know that every time I don't

I almost do,

I almost do.

Treacherous

-        Of a love that seemed romantic and perfect, but dangerous.

Two headlights shine through the sleepless night

And I will get you, and get you alone

Your name has echoed through my mind

And I just think you should, think you should know

That nothing safe is worth the drive and I would

Follow you, follow you home...

I'll follow you, follow you home...

Fearless

-        The title itself propels it to the top of my list. One should remain fearless, even after a series of pains, disappointments. No matter how many times you fall and get hurt, you shouldn't be afraid to stand up and love again.

So baby drive slow

Til we run out of road in this one horse town

I wanna stay right here in this passenger's seat

You put your eyes on me

In this moment now capture it remember it

Well you stood there with me in the doorway my hands shake

I'm not usually this way but

You pull me in and I'm a little more brave

It's the first kiss, it's flawless, really something, it's fearless.

~TheGoodGirl

Sleepless in Shuttle

On our way to the office this morning, I was telling Alex about my van ride yesterday. How I disliked the girl who sat beside me. She’s chubby, and probably years older than Cae. From the back, she transferred to the front row, so I assumed she would get off before us. But no, she was still there when it was my turn. I waited for her to move, I think I said “Excuse me” twice. She wouldn’t budge. “Excuuuuuuuusssssse me,” I said again. Aba, ayaw pa rin. The other passengers were already looking at us. Then I said, “Parang ayaw mo magpababa ah!” Then I didn’t wait na, bumaba na lang ako (kasehodang matamaan sya) and slammed the door. I knew she was staring at me, I wished I stared at her back and said a few more things, but I didn’t care anymore.

My point was, kung hindi ka naman bababa agad and you chose the seat near the door, then expect that somebody else will get off ahead of you, so be prepared to move or allow them to get off. I do that – a lot. Otherwise, dun ka maupo sa likod. If you don’t want to be disturbed. For me, it doesn’t matter if the person is older or younger than me. If I’m blocking his or her way, bababa ako. It’s just the way things are. Magpapadaan ka talaga. Isa lang ang exit eh. Pare-pareho lang tayong pasahero at hindi tayo ang may-ari ng sasakyan. Where are the manners of this girl? Parang mommy na lang nya ko. I told Alex I would have understood if it were raining, syempre she’d get wet. But it wasn’t. Plain laziness and bad manners.

Alex said, “Magblog ka nga ng shuttle etiquette.” Lol.

I have a lot of van adventures – funny, infuriating, minsan mapapailing ka na lang, di mo alam kung maiinis ka or matatawa. If there is phone or email etiquette, there must be ‘shuttle etiquette’, too.

People who are talking loudly over the phone, hindi kaya sila nahihiya na marinig yung conversation nila? I hate that. Pwede namang mahina lang.

People who snore. Wow. Ako ang nahihiya whenever somebody does that.

People who talk loudly with each other. Ah excuse me po, when you’re tired after a day’s work, parang ayaw mo ng maingay. Or is it just my age?

People who kept on complaining about the heat inside the van, or how it is too crowded. Please. Normal na po ang siksikan, ganun talaga. Apatan kung apatan. Don’t blame the other passengers. Ayaw pa umusog. Eh di bayaran mo lahat para wala kang katabi. Or better yet, buy your own vehicle.

People who are sweaty. Ewwww. Ang lagkit kaya.

People who don’t smell good. Naman.  No explanation necessary.

Guys na nakabukaka. Ano ba namang ipitin mo yan, sakop mo na lahat ng upuan ah.

People who wear earphones or are stuck to their headsets na dinig na dinig ng lahat kung gaano kalakas, hindi tuloy marinig na may bababa.

Parents na may kinakandong na bata, kahit masikip na. Ibayad ninyo na yan. Especially if they’re taking too much space. I don’t mind crying babies, it’s not their fault. And I don’t mind children who talk a lot during the trip. Ok lang yun. But sometimes, natatapakan ka, or nadudumihan ka ng shoes nila. Sorry na lang.

Yung iba naman, pasakay pa lang, “Sa ano lang ako bababa.” Ano ba yan, hindi pa nga sumasakay, bababa na agad? Lahat gusto maupo sa bungad. May sasakyan bang puro bungad??? If you can picture in your mind the flyer used by the Wright brothers, ayun pwede yun.

But there is still some goodness inside the shuttle, in all fairness. People who are nice, people who initiate small talks, especially senior citizens or older ones who smile at you. Guys who smell good, na parang gusto ko nang sabihan ng, “Boss, pakiss naman, ambango eh.” People with manners, who say ‘excuse me’ and ‘thank you’. People who open the door for you, or echo your “Sa tabi lang,” when the driver didn’t hear you. People who are considerate. People who are good-natured, hindi mareklamo.

I know some will not agree with me, kanya-kanyang opinion lang naman yan. And there are some who find my adventures amusing. It's ok for me to commute, no big deal. I am used to that. I grew up taking tricycles, jeepneys, buses. Commuting or taking public transport may be a challenge, it’s a jungle out there, but we can still practice good manners and right conduct to enjoy the ride.

~TheGoodGirl

Being Too Busy – is there such a thing?

Every day is a Mother's Day.

“We all have the same 24/7. What we do with our time becomes our priority. Choose what you do with your time and do not lead a life by default” ― Patt Hollinger Pickett

A former boss once said, “We all have the same 24 hours a day. I often wonder why some people always say as an excuse that they don’t have the time.”

Maybe it’s inherent for women. Having time for everything, that is. A mom and a dad have the same 24 hours, but the former can seem to accomplish more than the latter. I am not being sexist, I am just saying it is true or it can be true. I have a 7am-4pm job, and as soon as I get home, there’s still work to be done. I can still do errands, do a household check, spend time with my kids, watch TV, have a social media life, read, write, and have some “me” time.

While everyone else is asleep, a mom can still be up, making sure the house is tidy, all the dishes washed, all lights out.  And she can be the same person to wake up before anyone else does. She can be a working mom and do household chores at the same time, and help kids do their homework or projects. I think a female is more effective as a multi-tasker than her counterpart. I discovered that if a man is busy on something, sometimes his world stops because he is doing that something, or focusing on that something. If you give him another task or more than one task, he will be TOO BUSY. Women on the other hand seem to have that built-in “trash segregation system” on their mind – parang may color coding sa isip - this is for this, this is for that. We have a lot on our plates but we still can get a lot of things done. I guess physicality is the issue why Jerry Siegel created Superman as a He.

Nobody is too busy. I don’t buy that (except if it's a life-and-death situation). I’m a busy girl. I may be busy with a lot of things, but I can never be too busy for my family, for friends, for loved ones, for my hobbies or interests, for the things that matter most. I am busy, but I can still write. I am busy, but I can still have fun. I am never too busy to care or to show that I care. I will always find time. If I fail to do something, it’s because I don’t want to do it, or it’s not a priority, and not because I don’t have time for it. Let’s stop glorifying “busy” that it has become another word for “fine.” 

"How are you?" "Busy." 

Never get too busy with life, that you don’t have time to live.

~TheGoodGirl

Thomasian Throwback

Acknowledgment: http://wikimapia.org/3002449/Rosarium-Garden#/photo/1214931

I was having lunch with my kids one day, listening to Cae and Kong’s bantering and talking about UST. Butting in, I said what I miss about UST, or where I used to hang out, was Tinoko Park. That’s where 3C5/4C5 (in short, Journ majors) would usually stay, while waiting for the next class or just not wanting to go home yet. It is the park across AB (or St. Raymund’s Building). It is now known as Rosarium.

To me, Tinoko will always be a place where dreams were conceived, ideals carried on, relationships found and lost. I remember it was where most of the students’ political groups used to gather, with their streamers and stuff strewn all over. For some, it served as a rehearsal venue, with cassette recorders in tow. Some would bring their typewriters for paperwork or assignments. Some would review for their quizzes or exams. Tambayan. Kainan. Intayan. Meeting place. Lovers’ lane. Kung wala kang jowa nun, aww shet. I also remember a soft drink truck parked nearby, from where my naughty classmates “stole” a few bottles. Other favorite activities of Journ majors were people-watching, heckling, making noise, mang-okray ng mga nagdadaan, and endless chikahan. But lest you think that those were only the things we're good at, can I just say that UST AB Journalism has produced quite a lot of great graduates.

Life was so much simpler then. Hindi pa uso ang cellphone, Starbucks, gadgets. Puro hard copy ang notes, puro pa-xerox. Ang camera nun, de-film pa. There we were in Tretorn sneakers or Converse. “Walking shorts” pa ang tawag. And being a working student was an "in" thing then. If you hadn’t worked for a fast food chain during our time, you were an exception. I worked as service crew in Red Ribbon Timog when I was in 2^nd year. My work hours were 3pm-8pm (closing time) Monday-Saturday, after class; 4pm-8pm when I have PE classes. Alala ko, one time, after my table tennis class, diretso na ko sa office, still wearing my cream PE shirt, black skirt and black PE shoes. Since it was still early for my shift, using the wall, I practiced hitting the pingpong ball back and forth. I overheard someone say, “Sino yung bata?” Hahaha. Neneng-nene pa siguro nun, napagkamalan akong “bata.” The only celebrity I saw then was Regine Velasquez. When I was in 3^rd year, I worked as a part-time writer for a news agency which had an office on Scout Ybardolaza, QC. I would report every MWF in the afternoon. 

We did not have yet the carpark which houses McDonald’s, KFC, among others, now. Other popular tambayans were the UST Coop, the Main Building, Colayco Park (now the Quadricentennial Park) and eventually, The UST Miguel de Benavides Library. And of course, the Flame office in St. Raymund’s Building. Madalas din, naka-Indian seat lang sa corridors, in our long dark blue skirts. 

For me, the best “wholesome” kainans / hang-out places were Janet’s and Mike’s (the best Southern style fried chicken ever with cole slaw on the side), Malls close to UST were limited to SM City / North EDSA (1 jeepney ride away) and SM Centerpoint (1 bus ride away).

If you asked me if I had my share of flood horror stories, you bet. You will never be a real Thomasian kung wala kang experience na ganito. Ang dugong nananalaytay sa amin ay hindi lang black-white-gold, kundi tubig-baha. I was stranded many times, and I would walk home wading along the dark cold water. May ipis pa. Ewww. And yes, meron din namang HHWW sa baha memories. LOL.

And maybe the best thing that happened to me as a Thomasian was meeting my partner in life. While he was a Literature major, Alex and I had the same circle of writer-friends. Tahimik lang siya, medyo suplado. Hi Hello lang, usually. He was in love with (or getting over) another girl at that time, and I with somebody else, too. I didn’t know why I dreamed of him one night. The following morning, I saw him along Tinoko. I greeted him by saying, “Uy, napaginipan kita kagabi.” I didn’t wait for his answer, I just kept on walking. Yun pala, magiging kami later on.

One afternoon, April of 1992, there we were, Alex and I, sitting on one of the benches, watching the sunset. We were already a couple but we didn’t know it. We just needed formality. So I decided to ask. “So, anong anniversary natin? April 1 o 3?” And right then and there, we agreed that it was going to be April 3. Who said there was no forever? Was it Rita Rudner who said that "It's so great to find that one special person you want to annoy for the rest of your life."

UST will always be home. And I will always be a proud and growling Thomasian. #GoUSTE

~TheGoodGirl

Clutter-Keeper

I am a self-confessed clutter-keeper. I have no medical basis but I think it is hereditary. My mom is a clutter-keeper, too and from her, I got this trait– from keeping old Tupperware to towels to dinnerware to old receipts and bills. Like Mama, I just don’t have the heart to throw things away, for sentimental reasons. From my husband’s old love letters, greeting cards, gift cards down to my children’s baby clothes, toys and stick-figure drawings. 

In our closet, I still have the plastic wrappers of Alex’s Valentine flowers, chocolate wrappers, grocery receipts, coins, and old Christmas gifts from friends which I have never used. I have Cae’s and Caehl’s school receipts, test papers, and ID’s. Our hospital/ medical records are in legal envelopes, including billings, receipts and prescriptions. My pocket planners and journals are complete from year 1996. I used to keep credit card bills, cable receipts, telephone and cellphone bills, and all the bills in the world but I have already trained myself to throw them away after a year.

In my kitchen, you would see paper plates and cups, microwaveable plastic containers, even ice cream gallons and leche flan llaneras. Plastic and paper shopping bags? You bet. But only because we re-use it to line the trash bin. Plastic bottles? You bet. But only because we give it to people who would sell them to junk shops.

In the living room, old magazines, Caehl’s books and toys, photo frames, medals, awards, and photo albums clutter the shelves, as well as fast food delivery menus. Old crayons, pens, and markers are all over the library, including giveaway bags, my children’s old textbooks, and birthday tarps. And manuscripts and photocopies of press releases, both Alex’s and mine. My collection of Marian Rivera magazine covers are in a shelf in my bedroom.

In the same manner, I have the tendency to hoard old memories, and keep them in my heart and mind, memories that are good and bad, happy and sad. More often than not they don’t do me good, especially the not-so-pleasant ones. They make me angry. My vivid imagination enables me to re-live, recapture old horrors in my life as if they are happening all over again. Sometimes the stuff that I store are the very same ones who evoke these memories. Calendars, plane tickets, and yes, pictures. This is the part of my being a clutter-keeper that I hate and don’t want to keep anymore. This is the part that I want to get rid of. Because it does me no good.

When I had this depression around nine years ago, Alex would often tell me not to dwell on the past, especially the negative parts. Because it stops me from moving forward. Because it makes me angry. And because it’s not healthy. The past belongs to the past. And to learn from it, and to be wiser, better and stronger, is the best way to deal with it, than mope and sulk. I guess, like the clutter I have since learned to throw away, I will learn to discard this excess baggage and be able to lighten my load someday.

Well, what about the good ones? They encourage me to smile and move on, and inspire me to write entries such as this…and make me hold on to the belief that there’s still some goodness left in this world for us. And despite everything, after all has been said and done, every single moment that happens or happened to you will always teach you about goodness.

~TheGoodGirl

An Empty Jar

Inside my mind

And heart,

There is a library of memories.

The memories are contained in jars,

Categorized into years

And persons.

Like if I want to remember a certain year, I can just take out the jar labeled with that year, open its lid and release the memories. Or if I want to reminisce about a certain person, I will pick out the one bearing his or her name, and again, help myself to the memories I kept inside the jar.

- Memory Jars, Tales of The Good Girl, September 2014

When I opened one of my memory jars a year ago, I consequently released pent-up memories and things that happened which I thought would forever be at the backseat of my mind.

Back then, when I decided to put away this particular jar, I placed it where I would never see it again. I would always hold back each time there was something that would remind me of this year, and of certain persons in my life during this year. I have managed, for the longest time, to confine such experiences to my memory bank’s “black hole”, hoping they will disappear and never come back to haunt me, and hurt me.

I thought they were all gone. I never knew that opening that jar will make me remember and feel again the joys, the thrills, the fears, the disappointments, and the pains. Many times, I would tell myself to replace the lid and close the jar again, and put it back where it belongs – the past. There were times though that I thought the jar would remain open forever. But that was not going to happen.

Perhaps, to close the jar and return it to the shelf is not enough. Perhaps, it would be best if I take out all the contents, or shake the jar and throw everything in it away. That way, even if it remains open, it would be empty. And all the memories inside would forever be forgotten. And I would be finally free.

Thank you for the memories...

~TheGoodGirl

Where words leave off, music begins

You know what music is? 

God's little reminder that there's something else besides us in this universe, a harmonic connection between all living beings, every where, even the stars.
 -  August Rush, 2007

My most favorite scene/s in the movie. So touching. When Louis Connelly (Jonathan Rhys Meyers) and Evan Taylor (Freddie Highmore) met for the first time and played together, not knowing they are father and son.

I have been with Alex for 23 years now, but I didn’t know that he could play the piano so well. Well, I always knew they had this old piano in his brother’s house, but I didn’t know that he had it in him. He is known after all as a writer first and foremost, and not a musician (although he sings).

But for the past months, he would spend a lot of time on the keyboard, we have this electric organ at home which we bought for no reason at all. Alex would play pieces such as Beethoven’s Für Elise, and Mozart’s Einekleine Nachtmusik, and Rondo Alla Turca. I could hear his music from our bedroom. Sometimes it lulls me to sleep. I feel calm and comforted. And loved. But sometimes it wakes me up. Especially Rondo Alla Turca. Dad, don’t play so loud, I couldn't sleep, I would tell him. I need to sleep!

His playing must have inspired our son a lot. Caehl would Google the pieces his dad plays. And he either watches YouTube videos featuring the song/s, or just listen to them. When Alex would play fast, he would tell me, “Daddy is playing the fast version.” Then he would imitate his dad. Caehl even downloaded on his tab an app wherein he is simulating piano-playing.

One time, I heard the opening bars of Für Elise, then it stopped. I heard our helper talking to Caehl. From my room, I shouted, “Who was that? Was that Caehl?” I thought it was Alex. I was amazed. My son could play. I sing (I used to be a Glee Club officer), but I don’t play any instrument. I once took informal guitar lessons when I was a kid, but simply put, I don’t have the talent. The closest I could get to being “classical” was when I had this dream, sort of like travelling back in time, I was standing behind Johannes Brahm on the piano, with his back to me, composing his now famous Brahm’s Lullaby. I was there, I swear I was there. Just a little side note: I later learned that it was dedicated to his friend, Bertha Faber, when the latter gave birth to her second son. Brahms had been in love with Bertha and "constructed the melody of the Wiegenlied to suggest, as a hidden counter-melody, a song she used to sing to him." How romantic.

Then summer came. I don’t know who had the idea first, but it was a good one to enroll Caehl to piano lessons.

His lessons are almost over, three more sessions to go before their recital. His teacher said he is a fast learner. On Day 1, nasa page 20 na siya ng book nila. Alex accompanied him one time and he said Caehl seemed to be enjoying it. During our discussion, his teacher said she thought Caehl would quit, as he would sometimes throw a tantrum, especially when he couldn’t “master” it. “He is a perfectionist,” she said. He would play over and over again until he is satisfied. Hindi pwede sa kanya yung “Pwede na yan.” And typical of Caehl, he would just have to know the rationale of everything he does and studies. He would have to understand the reason behind everything. And he would enjoy it more. So sometimes, in the middle of the session, they would stop to talk, and then resume.

As I have said, this time I won’t take the credit. It's all Alex’s. And I thank God for his music. And for this gift. It’s a beautiful thing. And I am grateful that Caehl accepted the gift of music, too. I can’t get over this wonderful feeling. That we are able to have him experience it. That we are able to share this with him. I write. Alex and I are writers – but as Heinrich Heine put it: "Where words leave off, music begins."

In the movie August Rush (2007), August Rush said in his opening voice-over: Listen. Can you hear it? The music. I can hear it everywhere. In the wind... in the air... in the light. It's all around us. All you have to do is open yourself up. All you have to do... is listen.

Thank you for listening.

~TheGoodGirl