Always Be Ready To Party

(10 day, 5 hours, and 15 minutes)



I am getting ready for my LA edition of my 40th celebration. Nothing major, just a wine pairing night with a hand full of friends in CALI. I designed it so I have nothing to stress over too much---except, now I am still freaking out! It's the whole cleaning and organizing bit, as well as the mental preparation for actually turning 40. Frankly, I don't quite know if I am panicked more for the party or the bday. But I just take it all as one overwhelming feeling.

Why cannot I be like one those people?! Always ready for unannounced guests.

Adding insult to injury, last night I met the lovely gay couple that lives above me. We became instant BFFs as they too shared my passion for interior design, flea market treasures from the 50s and just overall aesthetics. Manuel as it turns out is a fashion designer. If you know me at all, you know that at this point I pretty much decided that I love this gay man. Michael, I am not so sure of but he is very sweet and shares the other's DIY sensibilities. They put me to shame as I walked through their apartment. Their place felt like a "home", with each room treated with so much care and thought. Each item you know they have a high regard for. Their greatest feature perhaps is "I SEE THEIR DESIGN". They have that immaculate neatness and order that does not seem human, and just that general good feeling of quality of life.

Yes I have great ideas, beautiful things and set ups I've arranged around, but they are hidden behind the clutter. Could this be a metaphor for my own life? I heard once before, "how you are with one thing, is how you are about everything". It's a very black and white statement but there is great truth in it (to some degree).

After I made plans to "brunch" with my gay BFFs, I quickly returned to my task. Throw, organize, or at least put in the garage. I have a long way to go, but come Saturday, I know I'll be ready. At least for the party.

At the moment I could hear one of the M & M couple pound away. I am sure they are building something innovative as I type. But no worries. In time, it'll be my turn to tour them around my home. I just have some digging, spitting and buffing to do before I get to the good stuff.

Let Me Make Myself Clear

(20 days remaining)---freak out time

I have this habit of creating lists of TO DOs. That's a good thing I know. But my lists tend to be on the messy side.
One look at them and instantly you'd think I was deranged.

For one, my lists are endless. A sure sign that I am not prioritizing enough. And the worst thing is every real estate of the napkin or the sheet/s of paper are used. I cannot seem to restrict myself into neat well-behaved columns.

This might all be harmless enough.
But if making myself concentrate enough to treat my activities with reverence makes me consider them for a moment longer, then that could only help calm me down. I have a tendency to overwhelm myself as my friends are well aware of.



Besides it might help me organize the rest of my life in the process.
I am sure a costly shrink would deduce as much.

Taking My Vitamin C

(2 months and 27 days)---oh dear Lord.

I have been lazy.
I have been "so not in the mood to turn 40", let alone talk about the work I needed to do like I promised you.

While I am ashamed that it's taken me over 3 months to run another entry, I promise you I have been doing the work.
The mental, emotional and physical work.
While I was not writing about it, I was processing it all. "Living" it.

As the dawn of my 40th year draws near, many nights are filled with worries that haunt me. A general disappointment at where I am in my life and career to date. And of course this economy has been my biggest enemy lately in all matters of progress with my passions.

Some old co-worker I never really bonded with told me once that an average Asian woman long for the 3 Cs:
Cars (wealth), Carats (marriage), and Child is what I vaguely remember. All I know for sure is that in my chair I winced, and I argued with her quite a bit actually, letting her know that not all women are like this (me). In my heart, I didn't foresee myself getting there any time soon. And I was fine with it. I just couldn't relate.

Now years later, I remember that list and as I feel insecure about turning 40 about just about anything and everything, and I succumbed to reflecting about that list (and truthfully what society considers the signs of success). After being my own biggest critic, I realized that she couldn't be more opposite to me as a person. And I am not some cattle in a herd that blindly follows. (By the way, I do own an adorable Honda Fit I am in love with, but I am pretty sure she met those of the type that warms your butt with heated leather seating).

So why would I measure my life against this stick? Because it is the accepted norm I guess.
But it's not enough for me.

So let me re-jig the List of Cs for "me":
Comfort (to be able to provide for my parents and loved ones),
Calm (serenity brought on by simple living, good health and hopefully poise),
Charity (compassion for others),
Capital (for my own business in the future),
Commitment (to my true essence and perhaps in the future, with someone who is meant for me)
Courage (to face the future that is so unknown) and
Childlikeness (that giddy wonder forever)

There you go, my Cs. Now I just need to drink plenty of water, defiant as I forge ahead. And wine. And wine.

Walking with Mischief in My Eyes

(5 months, 17 days)

I've been missing the walks I used to take everyday in New York City.
In the suburbs of LA, unless I make a conscious effort to park far from a store entrance or take my lunch time walks, there isn't really much opportunity to let my mind wander anymore. As a result, I feel heavier in mind, body, and soul.

In a sense, I have lost my strut.
...that fabulous swagger that New Yorkers are proud of.
...that necessary quick footing that kept me quick-witted and fit.
...that confident stride that attacked life.



I will resume walking in the mornings and getting connected to myself again.

A lot of fresh air and people watching can only do me good. Besides, in the great Metropolis of Whittier, I am in no real danger of walking in and out of boutiques with great finds. At best, I would walk away having found myself.

The Morning After

(5 months and 24 days)

Many times I have been stunted by my own preconceived notions and expectations. I am currently facing my own redefinition. And boy, the ride is bumpy.

A few loved ones reminded me last week that I need to be able to recognize the opportunities---even when they don't come perfectly wrapped, and accessorized.

Given the state of the economy, most people are having to mutate rapidly, looking for ways to transform themselves to stay relevant. And in my case especially, mid last year I set out for a goal and now I am finding myself many notches away. I realize now that I need to quickly reprogram my thinking. I should recognize "potential" when it presents itself. Or atleast be willing enough to say "hello" and have a fling with it (of course, this does not apply to drugs, or "bad news" boys).

I've been guilty of prematurely snuffing things out because all I could see were the negatives. When often times, blessings are in disguise. I want to train my heart and mind to see the good that comes my way and accentuate the positive.

I want to see a vision of the AFTER, before I get scared of the BEFORE.

(Wonderchair AFTER)


(Wonderchair BEFORE, as featured in March 5's entry: Vanessa in Wonderland)


For I am sure the great Michelangelo never looked at a stone and thought, "Nope, not polished enough".
He buffed and shined it until it was great.

It's Never Too Early To Miss Someone

(6 months and 1 day)
It has been about a month now since my last entry and I'm really sorry about that. But do know that while I haven't posted, the growth work has not stopped. If anything, it was at its speediest. For you see, it was a time I felt I needed to just be within my thoughts.
Let me explain. About a month ago, my mom left to stay in the Philippines for good. And while on a daily basis you could frequently hear me screaming in frustration after we hang up from a phone conversation, the simple truth is I love my mom.
The night I watched her make the turn for the security check, I couldn't stop crying. She was not going to be "easy access" anymore. And while one would think I would have exhaled a sigh of relief after months of torturous arguments and stress over her move, I found myself deeply saddened.


There, was a woman who loved me so, and accepted me for all that I was. She might nag me and make me feel guilty, but at the end of the day, she's been there for me.
That afternoon, we were still shopping for her last minute supplies, and in all our stops, for every cream she bought for herself, she'd get me a moisturizer. For every multi-vitamin, she would buy me Calcium supps to leave on my kitchen table.

My dad, was always the practical man. A cardiologist who has worked hard throughout the years. While he is a science man, he is moreso a religious man. He always made "responsible decisions". Just as he would always wear iron pressed pajamas to bed. As reserved as he is, in his weekly calls, I could feel the love. Although by the end of it, I am dying from hearing, "pray the rosary every night", for the umpteenth time.

In my career life throughout the years, both my parents have been very supportive of all my decisions. A great deal of them, they didn't necessary understand, but they knew creatively I needed to pursue them. And since most of the last 12 years I have been very busy everyday, I know that I have numbed a part of me that would soften with every phone call they made.

But life is short, and as I turn 40, my parents turn 70. It is time for me to really pay attention to them.
So I will learn to enjoy every overbearing phone call, get amused by run on e-mails full of complaints, and appreciate the heard-it-many-times-over lectures on health and financial stability. If I had all that time all those years to listen to my clients' hackneyed comments, I sure as hell have time to entertain whatever my parents toss my way.

I will miss them now, instead of later.

SOFA KING BUENO

(7 months 8 days)
Last weekend, I had the opportunity to go to Paso Zinfest and sample lots of great wines and food.
The highlight of which was CHRONIC CELLARS, a winery opened by the 2 sons of the classic Peachy Canyon. The rebel sons.
http://www.chroniccellars.com/
The label hooked me in, as a friend kept raving about their designs. And being an avid fan of great aesthetics, I was curious.


"Sofa King Bueno" (please read it fast for full effect) is 66% Syrah, 12% Petite Sirah, 11% Grenache, 11% Mourvedre. I loved the wine, and I loved the name. And as I read this label, I blushed. I am 55% still a prude. And while I blush at such expletives, even cleverly disguised, I am reminded of how my prudence in life has held me back through the years.

I am actually much better now than when I first moved to New York. The city taught me to be very open, and very little actually shocks me anymore. But still, I do watch what I say, and keep any profanity minimal, which is almost never, aside from sh_t. And even then I have to "underscore" it.

But I am really not talking about how well and how often one can use profane language here. I am really talking about that zeal, that "charging towards life" quality that some people are just naturally gifted with. Beyond just the surface uber "discretion" I have always had, there is that deep lack of caution to the wind in me. Imagine this, when I was about 18 I think, I wore a tanktop underneath my one piece bathing suit because I deemed it too low cut and revealing. Even my aunt was begging me to take it off.

I am really not that bad. In fact, my parents will argue that. They have always looked at me as the rebellious daughter who ran off to the big, bad city. But I know myself. And I know I hold back on certain things because of my "decency to a fault creed". You know, the kind that prevents new experiences and growth sometimes. The kind that could really only give you 45% of life. And this is what I'd like to savour more.

After all, life is best spent when every so often you get to scream out, "SOFA KING BUENO!" to the world around you.