It' a wonder what a java chip frappuccino and a couple of hours in Starbucks can do. How it can send your world crashing one moment and start building another one the next.

How you realize that six degrees of separation can really be just two and you are connected to a virtual stranger by another you both happen to..come across with. And how naive you are to think that you were in the same boat as that stranger when in fact you weren't even in the same pier. It's cruel how you find this out 24 million minutes later and not when it mattered. And only when you've fooled yourself into believing that you were the general rule and not the exception.

To think that you thought you are LUCKY to be who you are to that other, convinced that you got a piece of it that the others don't. Turns out you never had anything at all.

Thanks, My. I am rudely awakened but I am awakened, still.

In hindsight, we knew the same person alright. But you rolled out the royal flush while I drew a measly pair. Now, that much is true among the infinity of lies.

I will never forget this day when I turned from shabby to a million bucks because that's what I am. That's what I deserve.

So now when it comes knocking as it is wont to do, this door, this heart is slammed shut.

Thanks to you, talaga.

Having said that, yes, we can be friends, you and I. I think we already are catch you in court, panera!

Minz is: accomplished

It's baseball season and I'm rooting for the Yankees once again. Thank God for ESPN which covers other sports aside from basketball and football (hear, hear Solar!).I'm trying to get Santi into it just as he is luring me to give golf a chance.

For those who know us as a couple, they probably think we are oozing with things in common. Apart from our profession and fraternity, we couldn't be anymore different. I love pasta, pizza and anything Italian. He doesn't. He likes watching cartoons. I never did, even as a kid. He's essentially a homebody. I'll run up a fever if I don't get out of the house in a day. But sportswatching is one of the few things that drew us together. He's a die hard Formula-1, Michael Schumacher fan. While I dabbled with drag racing in college, I never really had a chance to watch F-1 races. Plus, I couldn't see the point of watching a bunch of cars going around and around a track for hours. It seemed silly to me, not to mention nakakaduling!

Santi taught me the ins and outs of the sport. From the qualifying runs, to pit-stops, up to the podium finishes. He explained why you had to stick your face into the tv waiting for the moment a driver finally cuts another for the lead and if he misses, oh well, he loses or crashes out of the race. That's basically it. A test of patience. I've come to enjoy it eversince. And yes I'm a kick-ass Ferrarri fan.

Our default sport is basketball. Who doesn't dig it in this country? Santi likes the fact he's married to a girl who can actually diferentiate zone from man-to-man defense or the types of flagrant fouls.He gets a kick out of gobbling down hotdogs with me in Araneta while watching his San Miguel Beermen (now Magnolia) and of course my erstwhile, ex-boyfriend Enrico Villanueva. Bakit ba? Walang kokontra!

There's also tennis and Roger Federer. Santi is the typical llamadista and I tease him about it. Whoever is on top, you'd see my husband's shadow lurking nearby. Now, Roger gets his love. Nadal gets mine. I have a thing for underdogs and the thrill of the chase. But of course, he secretly dreams of being the tennis ball under Maria Sharapova's backpocket. Jeez.

I won't even talk about Pacman anymore. In my family, boxing is not a sport. It is a religion and Manny is their God. Enough said.

Nowadays, we are venturing into other sports and he's started to ask about the Yankees' hottest pitcher, Joba Chamberlain. It excites me no end. Baseball and the Yankees blow my mind lately

In the meantime, I'm trying to muster the zest for Tiger and the fairway.I'm a bit emotionally unavailable at the moment. hahaha. It bores me from the outset but maybe it's just like F-1. Maybe it can grow on me. It's alright, there's always Santi to keep me awake until the 18th hole.



P.S.

By the way, Santi and I are feeling the new Nike commercial. Go, Manny. Just do it! Make us proud.

I was intending to grant a blog request by a bunch of my sisses but was instead sidetracked by Papa Piolo and Regine as I surfed through cable channels on a rainy Saturday night. Sucker for classic Pinoy cinema, I was only too happy to catch their much talked about pair up last year (when Regine admitted that she was in fact Ogie Alcasid's girlfriend, how anti-climactic really) while I was still in New York.


On another day , I'd probably pick apart the details of the storyl, its nuances, what they wore and stuff. But this isn't one of those days. Suffice to say that it was about an emotionally unavailable man, reeling from the loss of his wife and a single mom who was just too vulnerable for her own good. Cutting to the chase, girl falls inlove with spawn of the devil boy only to cut her loose when she got too close.


I like Piolo. Not because he is extremely, distractingly too pogi (well , that too) but because you'd never catch him acting. Ever. For me, that's what acting is all about. You are your character, period.


Regine naman,I like better as an actress than a diva. She exudes a certain kind of sensitivity that is mature yet youthful. Or maybe because she is more believable as someone who'd know what loving and hurting is all about as oppose to the likes of Kim Chui or even Bea Alonzo. She has depth. Yes, I guess that's it.


So when this part in the movie came along, I was in the lookout for my Mom's Kleenex in front of Santi who had the audacity to laugh at me and my innate kajologan.


MARTEE (Regine's character): I love you, Lance.

LANCE (Piolo's character): Ok lang ba sabihin ko that I'm getting there?

MARTEE: Makakarating ka naman dun di ba?

LANCE: (nods, says nothing).


(By this time, I had my shirt up my nose. Santi has long since cracked up.) After the customary happy scenes between girl and boy with matching theme song in the background, Lance shows his anak ng diablo side that you'd want to burn him down to the ground and send him back to hell.


MARTEE: Parang nag iba ka na, parang ang layo layo mo na saken. Mahal mo ba ako?

LANCE: I NEVER GOT THERE.



Pow. Rip my heart out of my chest, why don't we? See, here, Mina is gone. Broken down. Vowed never to watch Papa P again. Until the best part of the darn movie came along, which to me is the best of all baduy Pinoy love stories I 've ever watched. Seriously.


Lance realizes he is an ass. Goes after Martee and tries to win her back.



LANCE: Am I hurting you again?

MARTEE: Nasaktan nako dati, pero hindi ganito,nagmamahal ako pero namamatay ako.

I wish I had another heart..one that doesn't love you too much, pero isa lang ang puso ko at kahit paulit ulet mo akong saktan, mamahalin ka pa din nito.


Goodluck. I am , at this point, a basket case. Couldn't stop bawling. Ngaw ngaw in tagalog. You don't put loving and dying in the same breath with me. It strikes a chord. And I dare anyone who claims otherwise to come out and speak. It's not even about how young or old you are. How naive or jaded you've become. It' s just true. When you love, really love, you die at the same, exact time. That's just how it is. That's all it is.

As the credits rolled out, an old Wet Wet Wet song came to mind. Looking at Papa P and be all gooey inside, I dedicate this to all emotionally unavailable men in the world. To all you anak ng diablo out there...you win, you always do.

hi googler of minz tabulas...there is a thing called tracker and a widget called feedjit...just in case you didn't know

or you can just bookmark my blogsite for your convenience so you don't have to google it like every other day.

In any case, you amuse me.

keep on reading!

Minz is: amused

I've been meaning to write an entry in time for Mom's Day but two funerals got in the way. See, my Mom's two brothers passed away five days from each other. They even shared the same casket for practical reasons. How's that for logistics? Cool huh? I don't mean to sound too cavalier but we expected it. The two of them have been stricken with diabetes for the longest time and we were just relieved that their suffering finally ended.

Mom was her usual efficient self. That woman is a machine. Made sure the services were paid for, that there was enough food for guests. That thank you cards were sent. That the family her brothers left behind knew what to do with their lives from then. She had her brothers cremated in a week. Chop chop.

The two of us went out for errands today and she wondered why she couldn't cry anymore. As if she was a walking and breathing robot simply getting stuff done. She's totally wierded herself out.

I remember calling her when the first brother died.

Ma, anung nangyari kay tito?

Ayun, patay na! (casual na casual)

I didn't know what to make of it and it lingered in my mind until today. When we were talking and she was telling me, asking me actually what I thought the problem was with her. I never got to tell her what I think.

I think my Mom has an incurable disease. One that makes her forget that it's ok to cry when bad things happen. That losing two brothers in five days is one such event. That it's alright to for her to need people once in a while instead of them needing her. That she can't remain unfazed or unscathed forever just because she's a mom. And a sister. And a wife. Hindi nya pasan ang mundo.

I wasn't able to give her my two cents because I'm one of those need-her people. And the only thing I could think of in the middle of my titos' wakes is that if she conks out without my permission. Patay sya saken. Double dead, I swear.

So I'm going to stop writing now because I can feel typhoon Dindo brewing in my eyes (maybe she can borrow my tearducts).

No more drama.

I just wish you had a Mom like mine.

Before I start I would like to say that Er you look stunning. Perfect, just like how we pictured it when we were kids, when you had Christian Slater plastered in your closet. I sure hope he doesn’t reside there anymore because you are so hitched.

Anyway, I’d like to say good evening to everyone and thank you all for coming to my best friend’s wedding. Needless to say, this means the world to her, to be married to Miko and for all of us here to be part of it. Thank you.

But then again I wish she could have told me that I’d be giving this speech a year ago and not two days before so I could have prepared something really nice and formal. But since I’m not, I figured I’d just keep it real and tell you some stuff I know. Like the day Miko fell into her Erika’s radar, for one.

All kilig and giggly, She said,
“Minz there’s this boy who’s been giving me the look.
And I said, “Who? Where? well if he’s cute, then why not? Ogle him too. That’s what the Ateneo is for. Ogling”

So I checked out Miko myself and I thought, not bad. Well, not Christian Slater but he will do. Pretty cute in a brooding kind of way. I told her he’s a legitimate arm-candy. And without so much a thought, in one of our chit chats by her bedroom window, she said “ I think he’s going to be my first and last boyfriend”

And I said , like I always and still do. That’s what you get from reading too much Mills and Boon. Burn those darn things.

Fast forward to a few months later, coming home from one of my carpool parties, we were (excuse me Tito Dan, I have to say this talaga), stone cold drunk. She woke me up at 5 in the morning and said,

“ Minz I have a boyfriend na”.

And I’m like “Can’t this wait til morning? And besides does that boy in the other line know how much goldschlagger you’ve ingested tonight? Wait for your lucid interval and mine. Go back to sleep!”

So Mik, know that she might not have been in her right mind the first day you were together. But she has been so sure that it was you the day after,10 years later, leading up to today.10 years. I waited a decade to be bridesmaid. Imagine that.

But since you came around finally and because I love her to pieces, I did some research and came up with a few tips that I would like to share with you on this special day. I seriously think you’ll need it. Here goes.

Whenever you're wrong, admit it, whenever you’re right, shut up.

The best way to remember your anniversary is to forget it just once. Try mo lang, effective un.promise.

Like most married couples do, set the ground rules immediately and then do everything Erika says.

Never forget the two most important responses, "you're right Er" and "okay go ahead buy it".

There’s nothing that a bag of reese peanut butter chocolates can’t fix. She loves those things. But if you majorly screwed up, you’ve to raise the ante.A pair of Manolo Blahniks is you’re only hope.

Lastly, never be afraid that she will leave you, she has spent years keeping you so she won't give you that up lightly.

So there. On that note before I get into any more trouble, I'd like to propose a toast. To Mr. and Mrs. Paulino.

Take each day and cherish your time together. Stand together and take time to talk. So here's to love, laughter, and a happily ever after. Cheers!

I don't think anybody can understand when I say I'm buried underneath piles of pleadings to write and I am loving it.

I love waking up in the morning, taking a shower, knowing that my day will serve some concrete purpose. I love the smell of Cool Waters that I promised to use once I lawyer again. I love putting on make-up that I had recently learned out of sheer boredom at home. I love driving to work and not having to worry about gas or calling out the parking angel.They come free. I love the coffee that Chris, our busboy serves, because it's brewed and heavenly. I love looking at my little table which will turn into my queendom soon while I wait for the pc and telephone to be neatly installed. I love it that Santi is just a stone's throw away at Tektite and I never have to miss him terribly. I love going to my first administrative hearing for the first time in a year and a half, formulating questions, writing down notes, marvelling at my boss who is gracious yet firm and incredibly smart.

I love having lunch with officemates and being the only girl. The chair is always pulled out for me. I get to step into the elevator first. I am the youngest, owner of the most recent bar roll number. I am their rose.

I love going on a cigarette break on the 41st floor, staring at the Ortigas skyline and wondering when the next Nine West sale in Galleria will be. I love squeezing in an hour to work out at Fitness First just around the corner when I feel a little stressed. I love filling up my Starbucks organizer with meetings, hearings, investigations until all the boxes are all blocked out.

I love being called "attorney" again. I love the corporate life.

I love my job.

Whatever that's left of all the crap (and the people who have caused it) I've dealt with over the past months, years even, fade into oblivion. I think the dusk has settled. I am finding my worth, not as a mom, wife, daughter or friend. My worth as Me.

My cup runneth over,Dear Lord, I am grateful. Forget about what I thought I wanted.They probably were bad for me. Pardon the language but now I see the motherfreaking light.

I have everything I need right here. Right now and I want for nothing more.

Shabby is a thing of the past. I matter again. Thank you.