Slow Life

Not a bad view to wake up in the morning

In a 200-hectare place

where people wake up early,

chimpanzees and baboons’ shrieks fight with the twitters of the birds,

where everything is green,

air is fresh, light and healing,

food is fresh and organic,

it is peaceful and quiet,

people are always smiling,

life is slow (even Internet is slow!).

Let me breathe, enjoy and suck up all the positive energies.

All in 35 Days (not 36, though it would have been nicer with an extra day)

The first conversation which lasted until wee hours of the morning.
The succeeding conversations after that. Topics never seem to run out.
The voice call that lasted for hours. Then skype call. Then video call. Laughing our hearts out.
Donald Duck and Snoopy.
Central Station under the big clock.
My potato pops and your gayishly pink slurpee.
The walk around the city as you patiently wait while I take my awesome shots.
The St. Mary’s Cathedral.
The vivid light show in Darling Harbour.
The walk round and round the city looking for that elusive and maybe nonexistent Japanese resto that you probably just invented.
The Bento box that did not materialize.
Your first cappuccino in your whole life at my favorite fastfood in the wholewide world.
The disgusting mango cheesecake.
The Thai dinner and how you ate everything I dumped on your plate.
The nice tiramisu and gelato in Mancini.
My hot coffee and your hot choco with mallows.
The “weird” meetings with the Filipinos that you endured.
The pizza and pasta in the Italian resto that you forced yourself to finish.
The University of Sydney tour.
The walk in the rain under a very small umbrella which I really think you maneuvered and planned.
Ice Age in 3D with the very heavy 3D glasses.
“Guess who” winning bowling matches one after another effortlessly.
Same goes for Mario Kart.
My first kangaroo meat.
My disgusting mushroom dish that you finished.
Washing the dishes.
My first ever Pirates of the Carribean. Yes, I am weird.
The bumpy drive to Summer Hill late in the evening to bring Cinderella home.
The bowling rematch in our pajamas.
I denied I lost.
The tickles.
The tickles in the car.
The cola and chips.
The call at 3 in the morning as I cry my heart out from tiredness.
The forgotten phone and my most embarrassing moment.
The first of our long drives.
6 layers of clothes! Haaa!
The Grand Pacific Drive.
The slowest jogger in the wholewide world.
The sweet padlocks in the bridge.
Wollongong beach or was I imagining things?
Labradoodle. Ugly dogs. Pretty dogs.
Little red riding hood horses. Feathery cows.
The bacon and eggs breakfast in Kiama with no bacons.
The big blowhole.
The small blowhole.
Fitzroy falls.
The scenic drive to Goulburn.
The lunch at KFC.
The one million churches.
The long drive to Canberra and how we got there in the nick of time, closing time. Aaargh.
The Parliament.
The sleepy drive to Cooma.
The charred Kway Teow and the Beef Broccoli that we barely finished.
The bathroom with no locks.
The bath towels.
The electric blanket which was unuseful as it became stinking hot.
Sleeping on top of one of the blankets so there will be no footsies.
You sleeping on the couch.
The big spoon and the small spoon.
The drive to Jindabyne or the middle of nowhere as you call it.
The search for live kangaroos.
The 5 dead ones are not counted.
The wombat playing dead.
Finally, 3 jumping kangaroos when I was about to give up.
The fox.
The top of Snowy Mountain.
The breakfast in the uber cold place by the lake where you had your EXTREMELY big breakfast.
The undiscovered dent on your car by the kid and his skateboard.
The chips, squirms, chews.
My interesting and witty questions.
The long drive to Berrima.
The rain and the hot chocolate with mallows.
Your Dad and Mom.
Your Mom showing your baby pics.
Getting attacked by your foster brothers and sisters.
Hugs and kisses from them. I wanna bring them home.
Sleeping in the couch.
Driving back Cinderella before 12 midnight.
The drama.
The last meal supposedly. The Japanese Bento box.
The chocolate ice cream.
Slipping for the nth time.
How I Met Your Mother.
Big Bang Theory.
Hugs and kisses.
5 hours, non stop.
My keycard.
Dominos pizza.
Ten Things I Hate About You.
We’re getting better.
McDonald’s in Bondi.
Walking along the shore.
Chasing the pigeons away.
Sitting by the bench until I froze to death.
Somebody’s nasty because it is Friday.
The weird dinner.
Me listening with my earphones on the way home.
The awesome Sunday even if I was still mad.
Botany Bay National Park at Kurnell.
Whale watching. Nobody needs to know we didn’t see anything.
Getting lost.
Not reaching the fishermen.
The walk by the shore reading everything aboriginal.
My 1st Kookaburra laugh which was gone even before I noticed it.
The drive to that nice resto in Cronulla.
Yeah, Nando’s it is.
The could have been train ride home which would have finished everything.
Reading and researching very early in the morning.
Sleepless nights swearing we need sleep but getting sleepless more and more.
The funny conversation on that thing I was requesting you to get in the grocery.
The supa glue & supa glue.
The apple and mango juice you brought that you finished yourself. Some people.
The eeewwwwy vanilla ice cream which I forced you to finish.
The planning for the longest weekend of our lives.
Half sleeping half talking.
The last drive to that bumpy road.
Shopping for my foot rest. That was sweet.
More chips and cola and other rubbish imaginable.
Pirates of the Carribean 3.
Somebody cooked breakfast!
Bacon and eggs!
The walk in the park.
Your Subaru got a new name: THE GREAT UNWASHED.
The chunky kookaburras and their hearty laugh.
The unplanned trip to Warragamba dam.
Lying down the grass basking under the sun.
Short but sweet.
Sudden stop.
The 50 plus kangaroos watching us.
More of your story.
The lake you frequent as a kid.
The aboriginal hand painting you probably just invented.
The shed.
The kids!!!
I can hug and kiss them all day.
The awkward questions and teasing of Angela.
Grocery shopping for my Filipino dish.
Candles. Lots of them.
My adobo. Please admit it was good.
The lazy Saturday.
Bacon and eggs again.
The Hunter Valley trip.
Iron Gate and your 1 million bottles of wine.
The biggest kangaroo lollies.
My sauces.
Window shopping.
The crappy Mistletoe except for the wine that I got.
The crappier Blueberry winery.
The search for Rothbury.
The no through lane.
The moon and stars.
The scary Rothbury Escape.
The very dirty KFC.
Too tired to even drink a glass of wine.
Head to toe pampering. Somebody got lucky.
My morning coffee. It was crappy but I still drank it!
Kurri Kurri.
The forced photo with the signs.
McGuigan and their champion wines.
Ogishi and the super cold al fresco tea and hot choco break.
Callilea or something. I am so drunk I cannot remember clearly.
Buying those buy 1 take 1 wine which tasted weirdly at Penshurst. Somebody got hoodwinked.
The long drive to Port Stephens.
The walk by the shore.
The pelicans!
The sausage roll and cola.
The I-almost-died-climb to Tarooma Head.
Fine, it was an awesome view.
Ok, it was spectacular.
The sunset.
The drive home.
The bath with candles. Thank you.
The keys.
Locking me inside.
Throwing your collection of rubbish, twigs and leaves.
Domesticated for half a day.
I admit I enjoyed it. Even the laundry part.
The dinner.
The last look at Queen Victoria.
Train ride.
Packing in 15 minutes.
Finding Nemo and not understanding one bit of it.
The couch, comforter, pillows.
The last hug. The last kiss.


Watching Hitch early in the morning. Bad idea.

Thinking of eating bacon and eggs. Bad idea.

Walking around Sydney. Bad idea.

Staying in bed. Bad idea.


Everything is a bad idea. Here we go again.

Because We Are So Lucky To Have Him

Remember this day, girl? I still laugh my ass out. 🙂

Since I created a post for my Mom last Mother’s Day, Dad would be utterly jealous if I don’t make one for him now.

I am thinking of the funniest Dad moment but can’t think of one. Only because my Dad is extremely funny. He might look like not it but he really is. Just watch Eat Bulaga with him and you can see what kind of sense of humor he has. He can never stop laughing with the antics of Vic and Jose. Watching Eat Bulaga after lunch with him will surely make you laugh till you cry. He is intense.

So since there is no one funniest moment as of yet for my Dad, let me make him happy by listing why I am happy to be his daughter.

1. Obviusly I look like him. I may not be his spitting image but when friends see my Dad and Mom, they will always say I got it from my Dad. Think color.

2. He cooks very mean arroz caldo and sopas. If Mcboo who is the pickiest eater in the world requests my Dad on a rainy Sunday to cook it, it must be really good.

3. He can never say no to his lovely daughters. We are his princess. Of course, Mom will always be queen. Wherever he maybe, just ask Dad to buy merienda and you will have it when he gets home. And when we say please go home fast as we are starving or we just need to borrow the car, he is home in a jiffy. That’s how devoted he is to our whims and how he spoils us. Our wishes is his command, most of the time lest we throw a tantrum.

4. Dad will always be the handyman. Anything we need be it the best person to help us in this so and so problem to finding so and so place or fixing so and so thing, he’s got it covered. He even makes sure my room is clean every time I go home. He is just super.

5. It’s always very hard for us to convince him to go out. He just finds everything so tiring and far and expensive. But when he’s there, boy, look who’s found his playground. He is the one who always gets the grandest time.

Listing won’t do justice how amazing my Dad is but he is, just like everybody who claims they have the best Dad ever.

I won’t argue. I just want to give those who claim they have one of the best a wink and a secret smile. Let’s celebrate this wonderful day with them.


And since I am stuck here in the Land Down Under, still,  you got a very nice gift, Ddy. What else but your favorite Tee. Ahahahahahaha. See you soon. 🙂

Super Early Morning

June 8, 2012, Friday
5:00 AM



It is a cold early morning here in Sydney.

I woke up at an ungodly hour of 3:30 AM. I tried to go back to sleep. Did some stuff to snooze till 8. Gossiped with my Brazilian friend, wasted time in FB, rolled in bed for an hour. No avail.

I got up and fixed myself a cup of tea. That’s the best I can have now. I would love to have some cold Teh Tarik but where the hell can I get it? Plus the weather is freezing so I don’t think it’s a good idea. The tiled floor feels like a fridge. I have to hop to look for a warm spot in the room, none. The bed is my best bet.

And then suddenly, nostalgia came in. I suddenly remembered my YFC days. Those times when we have to wake up early in youth camps. Piling up in the mess hall to have breakfast that the coordinators prepared. Dressing up and looking our best to impress our crushes. Childish stuff.

I remembered Christmas, as well. Cold weather always reminds me of Christmas. Those times when Mom would wake us up because Santa left our gifts. We have to take a shower in the biting cold because we have to go to church and hear mass. The joy of greeting people in the church, the smiles from the people in the street, the food in my grandparents’ place, the long drive to my other grandparents’ place. Christmas dinner. Those stuff. They warmed my heart.

Memories are gushing. Been trying to figure out why. I have been away for exactly a month now. Not a big deal. But reminders of home are popping. Messages from one of the best persons who know me in and out keep popping in yahoo. Happy photos of lovely friends posted in FB doing fun stuff together without me. Messages from my Mom asking when I will be home. Messages from my sister and the recent happenings in her life. I even dreamt of home last night. This night, as well.

But I have to admit Sydney has been very nice. There were bumps here and there. Moments when I cry myself to sleep because I am so tired, homesick, cold. But those are rare moments. There were more fun times, laughter, new experiences, new friends.

New people I don’t want to lose.

People I want to keep.