Settling Down

I have been married for 3 months now. But it was only recently, 10 days ago to be exact, that I have felt what it’s like to be a newlywed and a new homemaker. I moved to Boston last November 27. Arrived at the Logan International Airport at 5:30 AM East Coast time to a chilling 22 degree weather with two giant overweight luggages, 2 cups of orange juice in my stomach and about 2 hours of sleep during the 5 hour flight. Boston welcomed me with such open frigid arms while my husband (I’m still not used to the term) Chev welcomed me with the warmest hug inside the warmest car. Such a relief to be out of the cold. Literally and figuratively.

From the airport we drove home. I asked him to carry me over the treshold of course, in honor of this corny but timeless tradition and he lovingly obliged. The new apartment looked so nice and warm. It basically contained three things: a sofa bed, a microwave oven and a refrigerator. And some pots, plates and cleaning supplies. And of course Chev’s things were strewn all over the floor. I laughed at the mess but was touched because he didn’t buy things yet since he wanted my opinion on everything and also because well, I AM THE LAW (just kidding). During that week we spent our time fixing the apartment to make it liveable. We made two trips to IKEA (we were addicted), 4 trips to Best Buy, about 5 trips to Target since we returned our highly-controversial curtains twice, and a couple of trips to the corner dollar store.

And now after a week of assembling bookshelves and tables and chairs and decorating the place, our apartment finally looks like a home. Very cozy and warm (thanks to 3 heaters) and very IKEA looking. We were inspired by the catalogue. Will post pics soon.

Our little family of two lives in a studio off Pine street in a small city called Waltham, just 15 minutes away from Boston. It’s in a very American looking house that they converted into several small apartments. We’re lucky we got the rear apartment with our own separate entrance and frontyard that also doubles as the backyard. We live across EMBASSY cinemas where they show the coolest Art films and Indie Films, near a pub and a watering hole and near Asian Grill, one of the few Asian places here in whitey-white Massachussetts. We have a friendly squirrel for a neighbor. I call him Brownie due to his color and my lack of imagination. He spends his day rummaging through trash and running up and down the tree. We also have a small cordless vacuum that I call Dusty. For some reason he’s the only household equipment that has a name (I should get around to naming the others soon). Oh I also call the weighing scale BIG FAT LIAR since he’s very dishonest about our weights. We pretty much have everything that we need now except for paintings on the wall and Christmas decors which we'll be setting up hopefully before the 25th. We blew most of our money on our TV and that stupid GEEK SQUAD insurance (a long story). I’m currently setting up my home office which will be completed when I get all the office equipment from our NY office and I’ll be working from home from now on. I’ll be a Stay-And-Work-At-Home-Wife. My dream come true. I’ll be setting up Café Maya too. It’s just a little corner café here at home. With me as the manager, me as the barista and me as the customer…and Chev occasionally when he feels like drinking coffee. Another dream come true. Well, sort of.

Right now Chev is at work and I’m still getting the hang of working home alone. Every small noise makes me jump. Our creepy neighbor Kevin also scares me. He’s always bitching about something like our parking on his spot yada yada yada. When Chev gets home we eat early dinner and watch TV til its time to convert our sofa into a bed and call it a night. Today when he gets home we’re going to have a meeting. A Budget Setting Meeting. Our glorious spending days are over. We will now be very strict about what we spend our money on. And that will be the necessities: bills, food, water, toiletries, and occasional pizza deliveries and shopping sprees.

So this is what it’s like…settling down. I’m so new at this and so far I’m really enjoying it. It’s like playing house. Only it’s for real. And the bills are real. And the dirty dishes in the sink are real. And my responsibilities are real. And yeah. Those dishes aren’t going to wash themselves. Sigh. Guess I better get a move on before Mr. B gets home and sees me for who I am – a pretentious-Martha-Stewart-wannabe housekeeper. She really is my inspiration. Minues the jail time.

I’m off to the dishes now. Note to self: make dishwasher part of the budget.

To Blog Again

I haven't blogged in a while. No, make that I haven't blogged in a long time. This year I probably posted 8 blogs in 11 months and that includes photo blogs. I just haven't had the time. They used to say that life here in the States is hectic. Spot on. It's been so busy I rarely got any down time. And when I did, I usually spent it lying around doing nothing for the sake of doing nothing (for once). I had a lot of blogs. In my head. I always put my mundane experiences into words that I have stashed in My Mental Blog or in pieces of paper or paper towels or table napkins which I have lost along with my trains of thought. And now it feels like it's time to write again. To dust off the old keyboard and put my words out there for the world to read. Like the world reads my blog.

My friend this morning told me I was a good writer. Of course I let that go to my head. He's actually trying to convince me to write an article for the MOTHER OF ALL BLOGS and of course he opened up his bag of compliments to get me to do it. Maybe I will. Maybe I won't. Okay. I will. Just because he said I was a good writer. So there.

I seem to forget how to do this. I'm just writing whatever comes to mind. With no reason, no rhyme whatsoever. But isn't that what blogs are for?

For the life of me I can't remember the blog entries I stashed in My Mental Multiply.

Hmmmm....

Oh I got one. My birthday entry. Every year I do a birthday entry since I turned 25. This year I didn't write any. Because i was too busy working or riding buses and trains to and from work or shopping or window shopping or lying around doing nothing. I'll write that next. Maybe in a couple of hours.

For now I'm gonna go out and get some sun. It's sunny out. A rare New England moment. I'll bask in the sun and probably prance around while no one is watching. Frolick in the maple leaves that are brown and dead. And feel their crunch under my boots and glow in the fact that it is so nice to be alive compared to them. Or maybe I'll go out in flip flops. Such a brave thing to do.

To Blog Again. Hmm...I have forgotten how good it feels. Like the sun and the crunch of dead maple leaves.

Black is the New President

This autumn purple may be the new black but black is the new president.

I am so ecstatic that Obama got elected and I am glad to have witnessed this historic election night. Got goosebumps watching his speech last night and reading about people's reactions in the paper this morning (or rather my trainmate's LA Times). Some of the most memorable quotes I read over his shoulder:

"We voted today not to practice our civic duty but because for once we feel that it would count, that we could be heard."
"I am glad our children have a black role model to look up to...someone other than a rapper or a sports personality..."

Hahaha.

I can't help but feel proud of the Americans for this milestone in their political history. I hope that Obama can make the changes that this country needs. I hope that he really is the man they can believe in. And I hope he's not the man Nostradamus prophesized about (as the man who rises from the turmoil to bring hope and eventually destroy mankind).

For USA's sake and the whole world's sake.

We all know that he will be the most powerful man in the world. Some have even called him President of the World. And I hope that with his great power and great responsibility (shout out to Uncle Ben) he will bring about good changes.

Everybody's on a high today. the air is charged with excitement. The world feels different. It feels better. And I find myself hoping that Obama will make it better.

But don't get me wrong, my heart still belongs to the Philippines. And GMA is still my president.

Isn't she lovely?

My New Haircut

I got my hair cut. It’s my first hair cut since March. It’s horrible. Well ok not that horrible. If I sweep the bangs to the side it looks ok. Acceptable ok. Not glam ok. But the drama queen in me thinks it’s horrible. My most horrible hair since my Demi-Moore-in-Ghost hairstyle back in grade school.

It was a Saturday afternoon and my sister and I wanted to get our hair cut at her usual salon in Buena Park. But lo and behold we were so lazy we decided to go to the Super Cuts salon near our place. After all, I just wanted a basic trim. My hair is halfway down my back and part brown and part black with my real color showing at the top. I just wanted to have it cut so it wouldn't’t be flying all over the place this windy season. Super Cuts is like a basic salon. Like a Ricky Reyes in the Philippines. Cheap but reliable for trims, not for styling. And besides we also wanted to go to the Jollibee near Super cuts. So we went. After chowing down 12 bucks worth of chickenjoy and halo-halo (goodness) we went to get my crowning glory chopped off. My stylist’s (if you can call her that) name was Maria and she envied my hair for being so straight since hers was uber curly. I made small talk with her while reading about The Lonely Life of Suri Cruise in OK magazine. I told her to cut it shoulder length, no layers, with bangs. Low maintenance kinda hair. I looked up from time to time and gave her some directions on how to cut it but I wasn't’t wearing my glasses so everything looked a bit blurry. After a few minutes I put on my glasses and saw the horror that is my hair. I swear I heard the JAWS-remixed-with-the-TWILIGHT-ZONE soundtrack. I didn't’t get the blow-dry package since it was 20 bucks more than the usual. She only blow-dried my bangs while the rest of my hair was damp. The result: my bangs were all big and poofy and thick while the rest of my hair was damp and plastered around my head, highlighting the roundness that is my fez. I was shocked. I wanted to go on a rampage but the courteous lady in me thanked her while my drama queen side suffered in silence. My sister tried to console me and said it will look nice once it’s dry but after a while she started calling me Edna. As in Edna of The Incredibles.

Thank God I don't wear round glasses. I think my hair looks more like Adrianna of 90210. Self-proclaimed.

Lessons Learned from this Eye-opening Experience:

1. Don't read magazines while getting your hair cut

2. Wear contacts

3. Don't get caught up in chismis

4. SUPERCUTS = SUPERBAD

At least I can go as Edna this Halloween. Or as overdosed Adrianna. Ah. The silver linings behing my gray cloud.

What Didn't Happen in Vegas

August 26, 2008. Orange County Courthouse. I got married to my boyfriend of 2 years in a simple wedding ceremony surrounded by my family here. It didn’t happen in Vegas. It happened in Orange. And it was blissful and sweet…the kind that made me weak in the knees and teary-eyed, like every bride would be on her wedding day. It felt so wonderful to say my vows, to wear my ring and to kiss my new husband. At that moment and time I felt so whole and complete. Finally, I’ve found my missing piece.

While it wasn’t the wedding I have dreamt about since I was a little girl, I was finally married to the kind of man I have dreamt about since I was a little girl, a man who makes me feel so secure and so happy and so loved :) I know Chev will love me for as long as we both shall live. And I will love him until death do us part. The future sure looks brighter than the sun-sun-shine...can't wait. My life can't get any sweeter than this. I'm so happy :)

Cravings

When I got here 3 months ago, I didn't want to eat Filipino food because of course, I've been eating Filipino food all my life. I wanted to try the restaurant chains here that I haven't tried during my previous vacation. I also didn't feel like eating Chinese food because that's like secondary to our cuisine. I wanted to eat in the restaurants featured in Food Network's Diners, Drive-ins, and Dives. And I did. I tried diner food and the US fastfood joints and the usual Italian and Seafood restaurants. But now I'm CRAVING for the home cooked Pinoy ulam. Particularly my mom's adobo. I tried to duplicate it but of course it's not the same. It's always been a miss or miss for me. Which is acceptable since I'm probably just Level 2 at home ec. Months ago, I thought adobo needed calamansi. Now at least I know that it needs a bay leaf, peppercorn and that there should be more soy sauce than vinegar, because I learned from my mistake, a pretty sourly disgusting mistake.

While there are Filipino restaurants here, it's just not the same. Maybe because they don't have our brands or our sometimes odd/ exotic ingredients. The really good ones are usually fusion restaurants. More Asian than pure Filipino. Which made me realize how good Filipinos are because we can copy other country's cuisine but they can't duplicate ours. Anyhoo, I'm starving as I write this and I'm picturing the food I miss. Makes my mouth water and my stomach rumble just thinking about it. It's just another cliche. You crave for those you know you can't have. And you appreciate those things more than before. The grass is indeed greener on the other side.

I'm missing

green mango and bagoong
kare-kare (but I don't miss the tripe because I don't eat tripe)
halo-halo (with the leche flan and the ube)
Dencio's oily crispy sisg
Congo Grill's tinumok
Sentro's sinigang na corned beef and the crispy GG
Ebun's adobong pusit
Milky Way's pork binagoongan
Jollibee spaghetti (they don't serve it in the Jollibee here)
Bibingkinitan mini-bibingka and Ferino's !!
cuchinta with niyog
Island Fish crackers
Bicol express
Chicken Bacolod chicken

and last but not the least...

San Mig Light (so expensive here!)

In other news:
Cibo's Pene al Telefono and Spinaci Zola, Casa Armas Paella Marinara, Sonja's Melt-in-your-mouth flourless chocolate cupcake. Conti's mango bravo!! And from USTe days the famous Almer's porkchops and Mang Toot's liempo .Yum.

of detours and crossroads

written approximately 15 days ago...

I tried hard not to press my nose against the bus window. Windows of public transportation must be swimming with bacteria. but i wanted to see the accident upclose. The uzi Pinoy in me was yearning to see something gory...just like the rest of the passengers. The LAPD guy came up to the bus and started talking to the bus driver, pointing towards a different direction. The scene was a mess. An SUV and a sedan collided in the suburban streets of Norwalk and both looked extremely, if not totally damaged. It was my first time to see an accident that upclose. LAPD, 911, Fire Department, the works.

"But this is the only way I know. It's the only route I drive." The bus lady's panicked voice startled me from my thoughts of William Shatner and the 1990's hit show Rescue 911. She was freaking out because we had to take a detour. And she had no clue where to go. Good thing a shabbier version of Chuck Norris stepped up and guided her through the unfamiliar way back to her route. The entire bus was in eternal gratitude. I almost heard them applause.

For a moment there I felt like I was the lady bus driver. Except that she was black and had a booming voice and er, giant bumpers. With her poor navigational skills and utter lack of street smarts, she could have been my black (with an enhanced chest) version. But it wasn't her lack of street savvies that hit me, it was her words. Words that echoed what I was feeling. Words that could have been my own.

I've been in the States for 3 months now. It hasn't been a joy ride but like the wheels on the bus it has gone round and round. There are happy days, there are joyful days. There are rough days filled with homesickness and tough days filled with doubt. The only road I have known is back in the Philippines. A road of career, nearly 7 years of hard corporate slavery with family and friends around me who cheered me up when the going got tough...and with a steady bank account that financed my needs and luxuries. That road stopped and I got detoured and now I don't know how to continue. It's the only route I know. Work and play. Now I've been a bum for 4 months and my bum is getting restless. I need a job. I need security. I need a hopeful future. I need the little luxuries in my life that keep me sane in this cruel cruel world. I need a hopeful future.

But the road I'm on now is unfamiliar and I don't know the way.

But today I had help. Not just from Chuck Norris back at the bus but from a little company who wants to give me a chance. And now it seems my life is starting to get some direction. It's not final yet and there are still a lot of steps to take, people to impress and papers to be processed. Hopefully I will get through the detours of unemployment and passiveness and get back on track.

Thinking about it now, I realize that when that happens, I will be faced with a crossroad and the painful need to decide whether to stay for good or to go back home. A no-turning-back kind of decision. A decision that could alter my life. Forever. Drama, drama, drama. While the decision will be lengthily discussed, I know he'll say that it's my call. I frown at the thought. Making decisions is not my forte. I'm a Libra. It's written in the stars. We just have trouble deciding, even if it's as simple as what color of shoes or what flavor of ice cream to buy. But I will cross (and hopefully not burn) that bridge when I get there. For now I know I'm not ready to go home yet. I'm not coming home to live my robotic life without Chev. He may be on the other side of the country right now but at least we're still in the same country. Whatever happens, I'm making sure we come home together.

I pull at the cord to signal the stop request and alight the bus. I'll have major decisions to make in the future but for now I'll go home, have a cup of coffee and a bagel with cream cheese and watch TV...watch fictional people make their own decisions until the time I have to make mine. I shiver at the thought. It's such an adult thing to do.