Think blink.

I was so hooked with 'Blink', I could not put it down; let alone keep my mouth shut talking about it after I've finished the book. Fascinating, fascinating, FAsciNating (note the stress on the first and third syllables :p) read! I could not commend it more.

Reminiscent of Mr. Gladwell's first book ("The Tipping Point"), "Blink"'s brilliance and the author's novel ways of presenting ideas and insights are simply riveting. The book will certainly make one think about how he/she thinks. There were even moments while I was reading the book when I would stop just to absorb the ideas, or to simply revel in the absolute beauty of Mr. Gladwell's mind. Such a beautiful mind, indeed. =)

So on my way to one of my job interviews (yay!) days ago, I could not help but share the book with Earl. As always, he was all ears. After a while, he told me that maybe it would be better if he were to read the book instead, and requested that I stop spoiling. :p.

But it was a wish that I just couldn't make my command. It was like asking me to turn the television off in the middle of a Boys over Flowers marathon. I just couldn't do it. No. Sorry.

I kept talking for minutes on end in the passenger seat, completely oblivious of the morning traffic along the roads of Makati. Earl, trying his hardest to balance his driving skill and listening skill (plus his ability of handling the pressure from crazy drivers on the road and from his crazy loquacious girlfriend), could have only wished for a (divine) intervention.

I finally stopped talking when I ran out of more stories to share, and when I simply realized that I'm saying the same things over and over...and over. I finally heard myself. And finally understood the condition I was in---I was in love.

With the book.

Funny how the "falling in love" thingy happens in the course of reading. Funny also how so many books (more than men) have swept me off my feet. (insert deadpan look here).

Maybe when you're passionate about something--be it writing or reading or poetry or photography or animals or gadgets or food or hot guys with names starting with Hugh and ending with Jackman--the part where you fall in love becomes obsolete because it's already a part of you. You're not even thinking about how you love it---*blink!*---YOU JUST DO. And one day, when something out of the ordinary from something that you've been in love with for years comes up---well, *pop* goes your heart. AGAIN.

That was what happened with "Blink" and with all other books that I have come to love. I might have perused a great many books but not all of them captured my heart. The ones that did became a special part of me. Why? The reasons need not be sought. They just ARE.

I do tend to overthink; but now I guess it will do me good to just think without thinking.

We have, as human beings, a storytelling problem. We're a bit too quick to come up with explanations for things we don't really have an explanation for.
- Malcom Gladwell -

Get busy living.

When I was young, I was taught to finish everything on my plate. I dreaded my uncle who used to make sure that not a single grain of rice remains on my plate. I was (dare I say it? :p) forced to eat vegetables and to keep to myself my childish thoughts about them (i.e. "Is this food?!" and "Who eats these?!). I remember holding my breath when I ate the pieces of carrots I left on my plate, which I thought would go unnoticed. With the same confused state of mind as Little Prince, I mused about how strange grown-ups were, worrying about matters of little consequence as that of leftover carrots.

How often do mothers or nannies sneak nutritious stuff in the children's food? Say veggies or milk? Everyone probably has their own share of story about this. Once in a while, you would learn that the dish has veggies in it, or milk, or perhaps that it's purely organic. Oftentimes, you would find out about it when the deceptive dish is already sitting pretty in your stomach. Maybe you would be mad. Maybe you would say nothing in protest. But mostly, I guess, you'd be beguiled. Beguiled by the exquisite idea of how a matter of little consequence suddenly becomes so great to you. Not because your mother or nanny was smart; but because it just happened.

Three days ago, I saw Shawshank Redemption, and it was just mind-blowing. My dad has probably seen it for the umpteenth time. It's his favorite film of all time. I wonder how a film geek like me even almost missed that kind of movie--had not my dad encouraged me to see it. Very beautiful.

Last night, I watched the 200th episode of CSI Las Vegas in AXN. Laurence Fishburne joined the team already. For one moment, I thought that he could not deliver the role of a Forensics guy because to me he was a Matrix kind of guy (whatever that means haha). In other words, I had not imagined him starring in a Crime/Drama series like CSI; but hey...he was GOOD. Like Akeelah and the Bee GOOD (because in part, he was also a mentor). And that 200th episode was good also. It wasn't as exciting as other episodes I've seen but where the crime was coming from and just how the whole story connected with the new guy (Fishburne) and his expertise and his credibility and the whole point of CSI was just (hands down) superb. It was like....a well-written academic paper. haha. Even THAT analogy connects with the story. Go figure.

And then, I also watched the Discovery Channel. The show talked about Teletronics, Life on Mars, and Time-travel. So COOL. It was the most interesting thing I've seen on television to date. Oddly, I've never been so caught up in the tube since Paris Hilton guest starred in the David Letterman show. :p

Shawshank Redemption, that 200th episode of CSI, and the Discovery Channel show all beguiled me. Why? because they were like veggies and milk sneaked in my food. They offered something important that I only realized after I've consumed them----HOPE. Yes, it isn't concrete as nutritious stuff but it is as healthy. And yes, HOPE has always been a matter of great consequence.

In a way, people may be classified as grown-ups and children. Some may choose to think about them as binary opposites---very different in their ways of thinking and behaving. I believe that in this world, numbers are not exactly an accurate representation of anything as just how old or young a person is. I believe that in this world, nothing is truly a promise. Nothing is certain.

Nevertheless, we DREAM. Just wishing and hoping at times. No matter how young or old we think we are. No matter how the future ahead may look.


We are all dreamers. Sometimes, we just need the right push to make us realize that we ARE.

I don't know why.

The old man is (definitely) snoring. It has been raining the whole day.

I remember watching the car's wipers move forcefully across the windshield. Like some coordinated dance move that requires only a left and right motion. I watched as the cars proceeding idly in front of me and the busy people walking along the streets blurred and cleared time and again in between the wipers' synchronized movement.

Driving is not fun when it's raining. Especially when it's raining hard.

Yet the comfort of being inside the car becomes no different from the comfort of being somewhere safe and sound during rainy days. It feels like home. For some reason, the car seat becomes your warm bed or sofa, the company of family or friends takes away the chagrin that rainy days usually induce.

And the car stereo becomes the chicken soup for your tired and looking-for-inspiration soul.

I sat there in the driver's seat. Staring blankly ahead. The windshield could have formed various images of nothings as raindrops rest on top of one another throughout its surface. The stereo was on....and I drifted my mind off the windshield pictures as soon as I heard a familiar song.

The reeds and brass were weaving. Norah Jones' Don't Know Why was playing. Norah has been a favorite of mine for a long time. The song is her debut song in her first album Come away with me. God, I love that album. And her next album. And the album after that. And all other albums that feature her. =)

I reached for the volume control but I stopped myself halfway. I began thinking about that human reflex. When we love a song on the radio, we immediately turn up the volume, with added remarks similar to the ff: "I love this song!" or "This is my song!" or "This is my favorite!". Reminiscent of that film White Chicks and Vanessa Carlton's A Thousand Miles. Never fails to make me laugh.

Why do we do that? Have you ever thought about that? This is an example of those daily actions that we often neglect simply because there seems to be an unofficial modicum of agreement that we should turn up the volume when we like the song being played. Is there?

Like Norah Jones singing in the background as I was pondering about this, we might say that we don't know why.

Methinks people are just plain interesting.

Breathing fresh air doesn't happen everyday.

Today I saw what probably was the fifth Michael Douglas film I've seen in the last month. We have a number of suspense thriller DVDs and even books that spell any of the following: law, the american president, a plot to kill the president, a plan to save the president, secret service, prison, suspect, victim..well, you get the idea. My father's bringing home all these stuff and I figured that it's just legally acceptable for him to be interested in these because he works closely with law firm people. So just imagine my reaction when I opened up his suitcase as I was rummaging for his pasalubongs over a month ago: Again?

Not that Murder in the First or The Heat were bad films--they were very good films actually. Surprisingly good. Watching them was like an epiphany. It's recognizing those times when the suspension of judgment is perfectly okay. Maybe people, especially young people, would rather watch Twilight or chick flicks because there is hype about them. Hype. Because there is a massive promotion for these films. Because the story appeals to them. It's sad that there are a lot of very good, well-plotted films that do not receive much deserved attention from the public.

Rarely, you'll be amazed at how something which you haven't heard of can be so thrilling and exciting. It's like Mary finding the secret garden, and Alice discovering all the magic and tomfooleries in Wonderland.

THAT rarely happens. And the 'rarely' part in it is the amazing mystery of it all. Certainly, you'll always be surprised. You'll always be amused. And you'll always wonder when the next time you'll feel the same way again will happen. You'll definitely say 'wow'. Wow for yourself making an uplifting discovery. And Wow for the experience that does not cross your waking life everyday.

Hmm. A lot like love, don't you think?

a girl, interrupted (actually), Musings of.

It's a sad thought that someday we shall all forget. Yes, there are things we want to forget. But there are also moments that we want to remember. And there are those times in our life that simply become unforgettable.

Like insistent vignettes of repressed life events.

--

For the past weeks I've been in a rather disgreeable treatment. I had to take oral steroids because I developed these unknown (non-itchy) rashes that even the doctors could not identify. We went to three different doctors. Needless to say, I almost saw some silver lining when the steroids took effect (the rashes gradually faded away). But my slowly-taking-pace merry-making was short-lived. As soon as I was withdrawing from the meds, new rashes started appearing. And this time, they itched like hell.

So I yearned for Doctor House's medical team. Or even Dr. Cockroach's mad idea. I yearned for the slighest, brilliant, sensible opinion a Pathology student would make out of my conditon. I yearned for a clear diagnosis (and liberty from those medical shenanigans). And I desperately yearned for a treatment.

It was even an inopportune time as I was all stressful with graduation requirements in school and I hardly had time to sleep.

I went back to oral steroids (this time lighter dosage) and now, the rashes are almost gone. Apparently, I had an allergic reaction to some food while I was undergoing the first treatment. That was why during the next treatment, I was strictly (and unfairly! haha) told not to eat seafood, egg, and chicken. Ugh. Imagine how painful my life had been. I could only drool over Jollibee Chicken Joy. Nightmarish. Ugh.

After days of waking up very early in the morning, of following skin cream regimens, of taking two other expensive meds (one of which made me really drowsy during the day--the last thing I needed while finishing my thesis), of almost getting bridget jones-ized (the meds unbelievably increase your appetite), of relentlessly praying that it will all go away...After all those days of disruptions from my normal life...(drum roll) the unsightly rashes finally disappeared.

Confetti. Clap. Clap.

Now, I wish they stay away. For good.

--

We have phases in our life that we wish would be over. Perhaps sooner than we could hope for. Yet these same phases become part of our unforgettable memories. Like recurrent dreams that unusually haunt our waking life. We question them. We attempt to solve the lurking mysteries around them. At times, we push them back. Deep into the recesses of that part of our brain we've arbitrarily labelled "Past". The irony of it all is they will always be there.

Too blessed to be stressed.

All people who are happy have God within them. - The Alchemist

One of my favorite church songs. It is HIM I turn to just to talk, to give thanks, to ask forgiveness, to ask patience, to ask understanding, to ask almost anything. And He listens ALLL the time. I just know. His love is so unconditional that even when we've been prodigal children, He faithfully awaits our return always.

Has he been knocking on your door? Let Him in.

LEAD ME LORD

Lead me Lord, lead me by the hand
And make me face the rising sun
Comfort me through all the pain
That life may bring
There's no other hope
That I can lean upon
Lead me Lord Lead me all my life
Walk by me, walk by me across
The lonely road that I may face
Take my arms and let your hand
Show me the way
Show the way to live inside your heart
All my days, all my life

Refrain: You are my light
You're the lamb upon my feet
All the time my Lord
I need You there
You are my light I (just) cannot live alone
Let me stay
By Your guiding love
All through my life
Lead me Lord

Lead me Lord Even though at times
I'd rather go alone my way
Help me take the right direction
Take Your road Lead me Lord
And never leave my side
All my days
All my life

You are my light
You're the lamb upon my feet
All the time my Lord
I need You there
You are my light I (just) cannot live alone
Let me stay By Your guiding love
All through my life
All through my days Lead me, O Lord Lead me Lord

He never leaves us. It does not mean that He's not there when you can't see Him. It does not mean that He does not listen when you can't hear Him speak. He's always there. :)

Just like that quote from the shirt-We're TOO BLESSED to be stressed.

A true false alarm.

Amusing story. I got a cold during a freezingly hot summer afternoon. A C-O-L-D. And I didnt even see it coming. After days of feeling dehydrated, that rhinovirus thingy managed to (inevitably, and overpoweringly) invade my system.

More amusing story. I woke up really early yesterday.

The day before that more amusing story when I woke up really early, that was when the amusing story happened--I got the cold. It was also the day when Earl and I agreed that I would drop him off to school before 9 yesterday because I also had to be somewhere in Manila for a meeting by 10.30.

I woke up yesterday, looked at my phone under my pillow. It was 6.30. I knew I had to wake up soon to get ready and all. However, I was not feeling too well. I felt weak and I knew I couldnt get up soon. I had a cold. So I heavy-heartedly texted earl and told him that I couldnt get up early and that I couldnt drop him off because I was a bit under the weather. Before going back to sleep, I looked around the room and even out the windows with silent remorse. "It's dark.", I told myself. "Unusually dark."

I slid back to Morpheus' world and as usual, I forgot what I dreamt about upon waking up--at 8:20 am. With silent hope, I texted Earl. "Maybe he's just on his way. I could take a bath really quick and pick him up." I called their house and her mum said he just left. Heavy sigh.

I checked my phone. It was nearly nine. I had to hurry. I had to be on the road by 9:15. I ate my breakfast, brushed my teeth and was ready to enter the shower. I went back to our room to get my clothes and my towel. When I passed by our dining area, I caught a glimpse of our clock mounted high on the wall just above the door going to the kitchen. It read: 8:00. I felt a pang of funny disbelief.

I asked my mum, who was getting ready to go out for her daily taebo class. She confirmed the time. It was just 8.00 am. I hurried to my room, checked my phone and yes, it was an hour too early.

"Oh."

The day before that I remember re-setting the time and date in my phone because I had to remove the battery and the sim.

That meant that when I woke up at 6:30, it was only 5:30 am. That was why it was still dark.

When I woke up at 8:20, it was just 7:20 am. Later I found out that Earl headed to school earlier.

Sigh. I'd been cheated. I was supposed to still enjoy at least an hour more of sleeping and my ol goody phone buddy deprived me of it. Ha!

It was my NIDO commercial moment. Expose, explore, experience.

Even more amusing story. I didnt go back to sleep upon my discovery nor did I wallow in my self-inflicted sorrow. I took a bath. Dressed up. Prepared to leave. I did all of these without having to hurry. Without fear that I'd be late.

I was blithely singing The Cure's "It's Friday Im in Love", by the time I hit the road. "How perfect.", I thought.