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Valley girl

Have I taken a long enough hiatus? You know the drill. When I’m going through something, I don’t blog. Well, this past year has been a doozy and its not even over yet.

When you’re young and imagining your life’s trajectory, you imagine it to simply go up. For the longest time, that was the way life was for me  — in fact, I celebrated every birthday with relish because I believed “every year just gets better.” Not to say that my life is miserable; far from it. But I’ve definitely hit a valley, after riding peaks for so long.

Let’s see if I can condense it all down. In July of 2012, Trinity got laid off from Fox Sports. It was an unexpected punch in the gut. We’d been looking at buying a house. So what can you do? I nearly freaked out, nearly canceled Chris’ first birthday party, but I’m glad I didn’t. But its been a slow slog to financial recovery, and we’re not even there yet — even though Trinity got a new, full-time gig with the Orange County Register in March. Jobs at the Register doesn’t pay as much as LA jobs do (I remembered that from when I got an offer for an online gig eight years ago), plus there’s the new, much longer commute (which weirdly takes about the same amount of time as the commute from West LA) — which of course may lead to him needing to buy a car sooner rather than later. Of course during Trinity’s unemployment and even post-unemployment, finances are still tough — the only purchases we can afford to make are necessities like food, utilities and gas to get to work, and if there’s anything extra, it goes toward the boys’ clothes, because they just keep growing.

Then there was this summer’s debacle. When we finally got our tax return — and thank God we didn’t owe any taxes; Trinity had the foresight to have taxes taken out of his unemployment from the get-go — our initial thought was to buy a car for Trin. But when I thought about it more, I realized our first priority should be moving somewhere closer — either to my work or Trin’s work. We spent several weeks looking at places in the San Gabriel Valley, Burbank, etc., not really settled on where to aim our search, and then our landlady gave us 30 days notice to move. Another punch in the gut. As a result, we had to focus our search and aimed at being closer to the boys’ daycare, since we didn’t want to disrupt their lives by moving AND changing their daycare all at the same time. We’ve now been in our new place — in the Valley — for nearly a month.

I’m a little on the verge of panicking. Hey, if I can’t write it here, where can I? We’re still in economic recovery, and we have a laundry list of needs — not wants, needs: new shoes for the boys, new “big boy” car seats for Chris (for two cars), clothes and shoes for Trinity and I (since we’ve held off on purchasing anything for ourselves for the past year). Plus, of course, we’ve just moved, so there some furniture purchases we actually need to make to make our home livable, without so many boxes everywhere. This morning, I woke up an hour early to look for freelance jobs, and I have to wonder — will that really help? I have no idea.

Was there a purpose in putting this all down? Probably not. But this has been my refuge for the past 15 years, and while I know blogging has changed, I still need this to be my online journal.

5 years gone

Today would have been my mom’s 69th birthday. Wow, is that true? Honestly, she didn’t seem that old to me when she died. I forever remember my mom in her prime, either bustling in her garage workshop, working on the next wedding or party, or bustling in her kitchen, cooking up a feast for her next get-together with her kids.

(Ohhh, I miss my mom’s food. You have no idea. I really wish I’d sat down with her at least once to write down her methods/recipes for pinakbet, kare kare, pancit, even her garlic peanuts! and so many other dishes. How did she always cook so much without recipes? Not even a reference book of any kind. I’ve been able to recreate her lumpia, and my sister has developed her own methods for cooking pancit and torta, but man. There’s nothing like mom’s cooking.)

Five years later, I think my mom’s absence in my life actually looms larger than it did when I first lost her and its because of Mike and Chris. I look at them now, and as I hug them and kiss them, I think of how much my mom would have adored them. I can see her squeezing them both as they struggle to escape her surprisingly strong arms, her jaw jutting out, growling, “nang gigil! nang gigil!” Both Trinity and I channel my mom when Michael is being naughty and he inadvertently hurts himself and starts crying, prompting us to ask, “Oh, does it hurt? You want to do it again? Let’s do it again!” (Mike usually runs away, crying, “Noooo!” but don’t worry, he usually stops crying very quickly.) I see my mom in Mike so much, especially when he juts out his jaw — its the same way his lola used to do so. And, Chris — boy, you are lucky, because your lola would have eaten you alive, you are so cute right now.

I think of my mom now as we go through some hardships. I have to wonder — how did she do it? I cannot fathom how she continued to pick herself up again and again after so many setbacks, by herself, no less. I am blessed because I have Trinity, but my mom didn’t have a companion to help her through the continual hard times she got through. That’s what amazes me most — she kept getting through, she kept landing on her feet. Mom, how did you do that? I wish there was a way to ask her, to pick her brain on how she kept going.

Mostly, I just miss my mom. When I lived at home, I used to hate giving her pedicures every Friday night (or plucking her gray hairs; she did color her hair, but instead of maintaining the color continually, she would have me hunt for her gray hairs and pluck them. Not until I was much older did I realize that it was the scalp massaging effect she enjoyed, rather than the plucking process.), but I realize now those things were her little luxuries and I was able to do them for her. In true Filipino fashion, she would always harp at me about my weight, but then give me food to last for days. I even miss decorating weddings with her. I fantasize sometimes about the joint ventures we could have done (a cookbook, a wedding decoration book) if we’d only gotten past our rough times and she were still here.

I wish she was still here. I wish she’d gotten to meet Michael and Chris. I wish I could know for sure that she forgave me for all the dumb things I did as her daughter. I wish I could see her smile and laugh with her just one more time. But all that is selfish, and I know she is in a better place.

As Apostle Paul says, to be absent in the body is to be in the presence of Christ.

Ways to celebrate a 35th birthday

I really enjoy celebrating my birthday, but even I had to pause when I realized I was approaching my 35th birthday. What is it about no longer being in the 18-34 demographic that makes us a little sad? Plus, my timing was totally off — with Trinity just a few months in at a new job (did I mention Trinity is designing again, now at the Orange County Register?), I was looking at a full week of cleaning the house, doing laundry and blogging. That does not sound like a fun birthday week, does it?

So about a month out, I emailed a bunch of girlfriends and basically demanded they set aside some time to hang with me on my birthday week. Yes, I fully admit that I demanded day dates with my friends; but I don’t get to see them very often, and this was a perfect occasion and opportunity. Out of the five or so friends I emailed, four initially were in but two got laid up by illnesses. But that was OK — I had a lot I still wanted to do, like prepare for a garage sale (and this gets its own post).

IMG_3999The birthday indulgences actually started on Sunday. After church, we were trying to decide what to eat, and I said, “how about Roscoe’s?” (It just happens to be a block down from church.) I don’t generally have to spend much time convincing Trinity we should eat at Roscoe’s, and the boys are pretty much agreeable to any type of chicken, beans, rice, etc. It was an excellent lunch.

So, on my actual birthday, which fell on a Tuesday, my friend Sam came out and I took her out for her first visit to Neptune’s Net in Malibu. I love me some Neptune’s Net. Any excuse I have to go out there, I’m all about it. As I regaled Sam with funny stories (I won’t tell you where they’re from), we wound our way through the Santa Monica Mountains and at our first glimpse of water, our inner fobs came out. “Look, da water!” “Ay nako! It’s so blue!” “TUBIG!” Driving down Pacific Coast Highway on a weekday (and not during rush hour) is a must for any visitor to Southern California — it’s what you picture Southern California living to be like. All the time.

IMG_4083Anyway, once we got there, we opted for the sampler platter on the steamed side (we’re both Filipino, so I knew Sam would be down with getting seafood that was not deep fried), and it was glorious — ceviche, clams, oysters, crab claws, shrimp! We also ordered French fries so we would have something to munch on before the seafood arrived. We shared a big bottle of Coke and it was awesome. We spent some time across the street taking pictures of the ocean and the windsurfers, then went back down PCH in search of some coffee. A gas station advertising Coffee Bean fooled us, but luckily, there was a Starbucks across the street. It was a wonderful, perfect Southern California lunch.

On Wednesday, the day after my birthday, I originally had plans to run around Westwood, catch a bus up to the Getty Center, then come back down and get ice cream sandwiches at Diddy Riese. But it didn’t pan out because my friend ended up having some sort of infection that warranted an emergency room visit and a few days in the hospital. I even called her on her last day at the hospital and expressed doubt she would be up for running around Westwood with me….and a day later, she messaged me on Facebook, conceding that she didn’t think she’d make it. It was totally fine; I had a Plan B.

IMG_4107First off, I needed to get some major cleaning projects done — the refrigerator and my washing machine, which had that funky smell. It took some work, but I was pretty happy with how it all turned out. I basically gave myself about two hours to get the cleaning done, then I ate a quick lunch at home, then drove my tired butt down to the Four Seasons Westlake Village to take advantage of their Wow-Me-Wednesdays deal. Basically, the deal lets you get a 50-minute massage or facial for a discount, plus entry into their very swanky spa. When I was reading it, I was like, “You mean, I can get into a really nice spa and get a massage for about the price of doing the same thing at Burke Williams — without driving 30 minutes out of my way? Heck yes!” The massage was great — I actually dozed off, which I don’t normally do during a massage, since, you know how you’re naked with a stranger during a massage? IMG_4121Not only was the massage great, the masseuse also used warmed towels on my neck, feet, head — I remember thinking, “that’s frigging genius.” The parking validation gave me about four hours to hang at the Four Seasons, which I split into: 1st hour, hanging out taking advantage of the saunas and jacuzzi; 2nd hour, massage; 3rd hour, hanging out by the pool and 4th hour, taking pictures of the grounds for a blog post. I probably should have nixed the 4th hour, which included walking around in the sun all over the Four Seasons grounds. I ended up with a raging headache due to dehydrating myself after the massage, I’m pretty sure.

On Thursday, I made my way out to Porto’s Bakery in Burbank to have lunch with my friend Iliki. I had asked for an earlier lunch date, and we ended up completely missing the lines, which was so awesome. Seriously, it was like going out onto the streets of LA at 5 p.m., and holy sh*t, where’s the traffic? I am a creature of habit, so I of course ended up getting my usual steak torta sandwich and a Parisian chocolate cupcake for dessert. With lunch at Porto’s, I think it’s literally impossible to go wrong.

IMG_4208Finally, while Trin was unable to get the entire week off for my birthday, he was able to get Friday off, so with the boys in daycare, we took the opportunity to go see a movie. Yes, I know, we’re so wild. But it wasn’t just watching a movie…it was watching a movie at Cineopolis. Quite a few luxury movie theaters have popped up in my area, and Cineopolis is probably the most luxurious. Instead of airplane-esque stadium seating, the theater capacity is small because the seats are butter-leather upholstered reclining chairs set in pairs or singly. It’s so awesome. There is a call button, and you can order from your seat — anything from normal movie theater fare to short ribs and coffee whipped up by a barista. It doesn’t come cheap — I think our total movie date cost at least $55, including the matinee movie tickets and the food and drinks — but we don’t see movies often, so its a nice indulgence.

All in all, it was a productive birthday week — not exactly a relaxing vacation, but I suppose when you have kids and you work full-time, there’s really no such thing until the kids are in college. And, now, I’m 35. While getting older physically has its drawbacks — gosh, now I have to moisturize! I can’t eat anything and everything I want! I get tired so easily! — for the most part, I feel the same as I did when I was 15. And I hear I don’t really look much different from when I was 25. So, happy birthday to me!

Hello, world. It’s now 2013.

If you know me or have read my blog for any length of time, you’ll know that New Year’s is my favorite holiday. It’s a sort of tradition in my family — we always spent New Year’s Eve together. Plus, there’s always been something special and exciting about celebrating the new year — you know, it being a fresh, new year. And I’ve always said every year is better than the last.

This, however, is the first year I began with more than a little worry. 2012 was not the greatest year, in my opinion. I mean, 2011 sucked quite a bit in its own right, but at least that year I had Chris, who has been a joy and a blessing. For my family and I, 2012 was a year of tumultuous changes that we’re still navigating.

Considering all that, you’d think I’d be happy to bid 2012 farewell — and I am. But, 2012 has been so traumatizing, you could say I’m a little gun shy about looking forward to a new year.

The wind tunnel in my kitchen

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Lord, give me strength.

On Thursday, the day I truly believed this situation would magically disappear from my kitchen, I learned that the fans and the cabinet-sized dehumidifier could be in my kitchen for up to 10 days.

Meaning, six more days of living with the drone of the fans. Six more days of trying not to trip over wires as I navigate the fan-and-dehumidifier obstacle course. Six more days of keeping the air conditioning on so high that its actually cold upstairs, but still uncomfortably warm downstairs because of the heat emanating from the dehumidifier.

And it’s been confirmed that even though we’ve managed to soldier on for the past week without having to evacuate to a hotel — I dreaded the thought of having to pack up every little thing that Mike and Chris require on a day-to-day basis — it turns out now that a hotel stay is inevitably in our future. Our landlady is planning to replace the floor as soon as our walls are deemed dry. So of course we’re going to need to not be there while that work is being done.

Is it too much to hope that this hotel stay will be on a weekend, so I don’t need to worry about work? I may have to take a few days off, just to deal with this.