(-5 days)
Things I learned as a 40-yr old running around NYC:
-always watch the road even when you're just a passenger
-Yoda, in the form of alien or uncle is equally as heart-warming, adorable and calming
-if you're very hungry, don't go to a restaurant that takes 1 hour to sit you
-don't eat before going to a big dinner (having a Serendipity Forbidden Broadway Sundae is the worst thing to do prior)
-don't mess with an old gay waiter unless you are prepared to spar back (and I was) ;)
-walking through Bloomie's is still an exhilarating experience (and you don't need to necessarily buy anything)
-the perfect cake is second only to the friends that orchestrated it
-in the face of things beyond your control, one must just sit back and let things be. Impending wrinkles are just not worth it.
-sugar, carbs, fatty meat, dairy, chocolate and alcohol in one weekend may not be the best diet, but if contained to a bday wkend, can be fantastic for your soul
-an old friend is truly a friend when she drives 2 hours to see you for a 2.5 hour dinner
-people who RSVP and actually show up, are not only polite but people who are worth inviting in the first place
-real "good" food is necessary to live and enjoy life (and this does not mean you have to eat expensively)
-there is a poignant moment in which old acquaintances, turn into actual "friends"
-there is no "perfect" party unless you make it so in your head
-EATALY, NYC is heaven
-it's hard to keep a straight face even as you grow old when you have a friend named "Young", reminding you of "Casual Fridays"
-there are more opportunities for magic moments with strangers in NYC because we travel on foot
-trying as many cheeses and prosciutto di parmas as you can, is a fantastic way of spending Saturday night
-be willing to abort a plan that clearly does not work. (Planning things is very good, but at some point, you gotta go with the flow.)
-make reservations if you know you must
-looking the part helps a great deal
-I am quite eccentric and I actually love it
-within the noise of NY, one can think rather quietly and deeply
-"home" is where my heart (and the bagel with tofu cheese and the pizza) is
-it's not ever, ever about the amount of the gifts, but rather the effort and thought behind them
-true happiness comes from a sense of meaning, purpose and contribution
-my 40th is special to people who truly matter
-walking and people-watching are still my #1 past times
-window-shopping is a good shrink
-meeting a friend's shiny new BF, and giving the thumbs up is a privilege I'd like to keep
-tearing up while retelling a Linda Hamilton incident and seeing another friend's eyes also well up is priceless
-3 kick ass girls + one hot chef in a white shirt + a fried quail = an ab workout from too much fun
-whether you're 20s, 30s, 40s or 60 plus, laughing so hard you're squirting tears, will never ever get old
-in fact, unsuppressed giggles take 20+ years off your age
-water in NY is best for pizza, bagels and a girl's hair
-NYers are a charming lot (this, I knew from way back when)
-I am more interested in Magnolia cupcakes and Junior's Cheesecake than Mario Lopez
-certain things only happen in NY
-certain things only happen when a Euro trash old man sports a high-waisted-poly-white-jogging pant, with a winter coat tucked in. And a comb-over to match.
-all does not have to be perfect at 40, but one must be willing to embark on a journey of self-awareness...in fact, if it were all perfect already, then what are you to do for another 45+ years???
-40 is the new coming of age
-to discover things, you must stay "in the moment" (as I read in an article in-flight back to LA, Deepak says "You dont have to know a whole lot about philosophy, just remember the following 3 things:
1-Remember the most impt. time in your life is now.
2-The most impt. person in your life is the one you're with now.
3-The most impt way to create the future is to act with awareness now.
All you need to remember."
-Rei and Isabel complete me. Along with all my dear wingwomen (you should know who you are), close friends and family in ALL coasts and continents.
-being picked up at LAX with a smile and a hug will always relieve the emotional trauma of a long journey past...and yet to come
-my 40th feels like my best year yet
Onward and forward.
Wednesday, November 10, 2010
Thursday, November 4, 2010
7) Acceptance and Hope
(0 days left EST; 51 minutes remaining PST)
The clock has gone past midnight here in NYC.
After I showered, I looked at the mirror and applied my intensive moisturizer on my 39ish/40ish face. I inspect it thoroughly. It seems that all's the same.
I looked down at my toes and they are in tact. The same chubby digits that could either fit in a 6.5 to 7 wide shoes, or 7 to 8 if squeezing into narrow pumps. My arms appear to have the same white spec on the right forearm where I've had it since 34. Even my hair is still thirsting for the same hair gunk for me to command it.
Ok, I guess it was not as earth-shattering as I thought it would be. If not for the tremendous amounts of texts from Manila and NY, I wouldn't have realized it actually.
So off I go now to get some sleep as I party all day tomorrow and throughout the weekend. With the people I love. In the city I adore.
I will talk to you all when I am fully 4-0 in all time zones.
The clock has gone past midnight here in NYC.
After I showered, I looked at the mirror and applied my intensive moisturizer on my 39ish/40ish face. I inspect it thoroughly. It seems that all's the same.
I looked down at my toes and they are in tact. The same chubby digits that could either fit in a 6.5 to 7 wide shoes, or 7 to 8 if squeezing into narrow pumps. My arms appear to have the same white spec on the right forearm where I've had it since 34. Even my hair is still thirsting for the same hair gunk for me to command it.
Ok, I guess it was not as earth-shattering as I thought it would be. If not for the tremendous amounts of texts from Manila and NY, I wouldn't have realized it actually.
So off I go now to get some sleep as I party all day tomorrow and throughout the weekend. With the people I love. In the city I adore.
I will talk to you all when I am fully 4-0 in all time zones.
6) Reconstruction and Working Through
(1 day and a plane ride away)
In 45 minutes, I am leaving my apartment to head to LAX.
2 best friends joined forces and are shipping me home to NY to celebrate my birthday with them and the city I love.
New York is the city where the "real me" was born. My essence. While Manila will always be my first home, NY is where "Vanessa" woke up and came into her own. And so NY is my anchor. Along with my friends and family there.
The act of my friends wanting to be with me as I hit 40 is a point that tears me up every time I think about it. This is a crossroads for me, and I do need to hold their hands as I walk through it. They've taken me this far in life, through the process of ruin and reconstruction, ruin and reconstruction again. And so it's fitting that we welcome 40 together, with my beloved NYC as a backdrop.
In 45 minutes, I am leaving my apartment to head to LAX.
2 best friends joined forces and are shipping me home to NY to celebrate my birthday with them and the city I love.
New York is the city where the "real me" was born. My essence. While Manila will always be my first home, NY is where "Vanessa" woke up and came into her own. And so NY is my anchor. Along with my friends and family there.
The act of my friends wanting to be with me as I hit 40 is a point that tears me up every time I think about it. This is a crossroads for me, and I do need to hold their hands as I walk through it. They've taken me this far in life, through the process of ruin and reconstruction, ruin and reconstruction again. And so it's fitting that we welcome 40 together, with my beloved NYC as a backdrop.
Wednesday, November 3, 2010
5) THE UPWARD TURN
(2 days remaining)
I have always known about the 7 stages of grief.
While I don't consciously keep track of every stage when in the midst of a predicament, I do believe that one must go though the motions in order to come out of a funk in the end.
The past year, I know I went through the first four, not in an organized order, but perhaps a series of back and forths in my daily life:
1) Shock and Denial (I still am)
2) Pain and Guilt
3) Anger and Bargaining
4) Depression, Reflection, Loneliness
http://www.recover-from-grief.com/7-stages-of-grief.html
A month ago, I came back from a much-delayed visit to my beloved home country, the Philippines. And as always, it was a much needed visit to feed the soul. Coming back, it seems like a whole part of me inside opened up.
Everyone will tell you that Filipinos are a grateful lot. We are the culture that waved and smiled at the cameras as a coup d' etat was unfolding in the mid-80s. We are a country where peddlers sport highlights on their hair, while holding cellphones. A country where shanty squatters have cables illegally snaking up and hooking up to a nearby house. Where Christmas decor adorn even a cardboard shelter.
People who hear these things might assume we are crazy. Absolutely. But faith could also be defined as "loony". And we are a happy and faithful nation. We strongly believe without seeing. We trust that God will take care of us no matter how dire things get, for as long as we also meet Him halfway.
I kept my trip pretty simple. I wasn't there to go nightclubbing, bar-hopping, or even island hopping like I used to. This was a trip designed to spend time with loved ones. And in doing so, in sitting still, I experienced the real women of "my" Manila. Women who have always been close to my heart, and yet I have ignored just how much of a role model they played in my life. They define for me what it means to be courageous at the face of adversity. While some (like my mom), might not always be graceful about it---and she would agree---they remain strong and continue to stand tall. What these women are going through, and have gone through are far beyond what we all consider to be "problems": not having time to go to the gym, the pain of endlessly looking for the next freelance gig, of not saving enough, losing lbs, chores, and the list goes on. These women put my worries and strength to shame. To them, I look up and pray for to the heavens:
To my Tita Eca (Auntie Eca), who at her mid-70s, still giggles and smiles knowing that she has lived a full life while going through radiation therapy,
To Nancy, who shed all the comforts of her childhood luxury in order to better take care of her children,
To my mom, who within the uncertainties of her kids' careers, puts on a stylish outfit everyday to show the world that we'll be ok.
To my Tita Cel, who has proven to be a strong foundation for her children all these years, but most of all, proven to be the best friend my Tito Rody (Uncle Rody) could ever have.
To Mel, who in the face of a health battle is the one telling her friends to "have faith, God is good".
As I face the next stage of my "Turning 40 Blues"---6) Reconstruction and Working Through---I arm myself with thoughts of these women. Women who to this day are molding me into a better person as I strive to grow up like them. Women who remind me of faith in God and faith in one's self.
Even when it does sound like crazy-talk some days.
I have always known about the 7 stages of grief.
While I don't consciously keep track of every stage when in the midst of a predicament, I do believe that one must go though the motions in order to come out of a funk in the end.
The past year, I know I went through the first four, not in an organized order, but perhaps a series of back and forths in my daily life:
1) Shock and Denial (I still am)
2) Pain and Guilt
3) Anger and Bargaining
4) Depression, Reflection, Loneliness
http://www.recover-from-grief.com/7-stages-of-grief.html
A month ago, I came back from a much-delayed visit to my beloved home country, the Philippines. And as always, it was a much needed visit to feed the soul. Coming back, it seems like a whole part of me inside opened up.
Everyone will tell you that Filipinos are a grateful lot. We are the culture that waved and smiled at the cameras as a coup d' etat was unfolding in the mid-80s. We are a country where peddlers sport highlights on their hair, while holding cellphones. A country where shanty squatters have cables illegally snaking up and hooking up to a nearby house. Where Christmas decor adorn even a cardboard shelter.
People who hear these things might assume we are crazy. Absolutely. But faith could also be defined as "loony". And we are a happy and faithful nation. We strongly believe without seeing. We trust that God will take care of us no matter how dire things get, for as long as we also meet Him halfway.
I kept my trip pretty simple. I wasn't there to go nightclubbing, bar-hopping, or even island hopping like I used to. This was a trip designed to spend time with loved ones. And in doing so, in sitting still, I experienced the real women of "my" Manila. Women who have always been close to my heart, and yet I have ignored just how much of a role model they played in my life. They define for me what it means to be courageous at the face of adversity. While some (like my mom), might not always be graceful about it---and she would agree---they remain strong and continue to stand tall. What these women are going through, and have gone through are far beyond what we all consider to be "problems": not having time to go to the gym, the pain of endlessly looking for the next freelance gig, of not saving enough, losing lbs, chores, and the list goes on. These women put my worries and strength to shame. To them, I look up and pray for to the heavens:
To my Tita Eca (Auntie Eca), who at her mid-70s, still giggles and smiles knowing that she has lived a full life while going through radiation therapy,
To Nancy, who shed all the comforts of her childhood luxury in order to better take care of her children,
To my mom, who within the uncertainties of her kids' careers, puts on a stylish outfit everyday to show the world that we'll be ok.
To my Tita Cel, who has proven to be a strong foundation for her children all these years, but most of all, proven to be the best friend my Tito Rody (Uncle Rody) could ever have.
To Mel, who in the face of a health battle is the one telling her friends to "have faith, God is good".
As I face the next stage of my "Turning 40 Blues"---6) Reconstruction and Working Through---I arm myself with thoughts of these women. Women who to this day are molding me into a better person as I strive to grow up like them. Women who remind me of faith in God and faith in one's self.
Even when it does sound like crazy-talk some days.
Monday, November 1, 2010
THE HORROR! THE HORROR!
(3.5 days remaining)
As I was planning the LA edition of my 40th Bday celebration, I decidedly wanted to keep it more "grown up". In my head I was 40 soon and I should have an "adult" party. More ladylike. I picked napkins that were a classy and demure black and white theme. I decidedly insisted on a nice creative centerpiece of succulents and lemons. And a stoop decorated by lavender and pumpkins. The only problem was, it's not in my real nature to be so poised and demure as the napkins indicated!
I may be on the final days of my being 39, but it does not mean I don't get to be silly anymore. In fact, I am realizing that as I enter a new chapter (and a new tick box) soon, all the more I needed a huge sense of whimsy about it all. And if friends are willing to get down and silly with me, all the better.
In deep gratitude for the life I have lived and enjoyed, the "adult" party turned into a SCARY HOLY SH!T Bday. It was Halloween weekend and so I embraced the panic of it all. I was going to laugh at 40's face.
The more I prep'd the apartment for the party, the more I wanted a party that celebrated the "people" around me. It was a party for graces in my life. So before long, I was carelessly tossing wine corks on the table spread, sliding on a hot pink and gold-roped headband. I was off to the 80s of my teens.
(from left, Claudia, Markus, Jephenny, y a o, and Jon, the wine steward)
The night was a wine-food pairing night. And the guest list was short but selected well. We had a blast. Wine and appetizer pairings were inhaled. It was easy finger foods, not anything too prissy, but still delectable by all means. We were sprawled around the sofa, just chatting about everything and anything. Come to the candle blowing, I asked everyone to blow a candle each as we held y a o's treats. Wishes for everyone! It was not to be a Miss Perfect and by-the-book night.
And you know what---no one really cared about the big 4-0. I was "Vanessa" in their eyes, and will always be just "Vanessa" 39 or not.
(Special thanks to JC, my co-conspirator for helping me make it happen. Without days of lifting, mopping, clearing and cutting, I wouldn't have had a party. He also made for a very knowledgeable and entertaining wine host, sweatband and all.)
As I was planning the LA edition of my 40th Bday celebration, I decidedly wanted to keep it more "grown up". In my head I was 40 soon and I should have an "adult" party. More ladylike. I picked napkins that were a classy and demure black and white theme. I decidedly insisted on a nice creative centerpiece of succulents and lemons. And a stoop decorated by lavender and pumpkins. The only problem was, it's not in my real nature to be so poised and demure as the napkins indicated!
I may be on the final days of my being 39, but it does not mean I don't get to be silly anymore. In fact, I am realizing that as I enter a new chapter (and a new tick box) soon, all the more I needed a huge sense of whimsy about it all. And if friends are willing to get down and silly with me, all the better.
In deep gratitude for the life I have lived and enjoyed, the "adult" party turned into a SCARY HOLY SH!T Bday. It was Halloween weekend and so I embraced the panic of it all. I was going to laugh at 40's face.
The more I prep'd the apartment for the party, the more I wanted a party that celebrated the "people" around me. It was a party for graces in my life. So before long, I was carelessly tossing wine corks on the table spread, sliding on a hot pink and gold-roped headband. I was off to the 80s of my teens.
(from left, Claudia, Markus, Jephenny, y a o, and Jon, the wine steward)
The night was a wine-food pairing night. And the guest list was short but selected well. We had a blast. Wine and appetizer pairings were inhaled. It was easy finger foods, not anything too prissy, but still delectable by all means. We were sprawled around the sofa, just chatting about everything and anything. Come to the candle blowing, I asked everyone to blow a candle each as we held y a o's treats. Wishes for everyone! It was not to be a Miss Perfect and by-the-book night.
And you know what---no one really cared about the big 4-0. I was "Vanessa" in their eyes, and will always be just "Vanessa" 39 or not.
(Special thanks to JC, my co-conspirator for helping me make it happen. Without days of lifting, mopping, clearing and cutting, I wouldn't have had a party. He also made for a very knowledgeable and entertaining wine host, sweatband and all.)
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