Posted in bloggers, family, Filipino, relationships

Eight Things I Learned From My Best Friend’s Wedding

 

Some people’s weddings are worth travelling five hundred miles for.

Christine is one of my oldest friends. Like I said in my wedding speech, there aren’t a lot of people I’d hop on a plane for but she’s one of them. I don’t have enough words for how extraordinary a friend and person she is, but the mere fact that there were people who travelled from almost all seven continents of the world to come to this wedding is a testament to her character.

One must not eat Jolibee Chickenjoy mere hours before one must fit into a bridesmaid dress that barely fits when your stomach WASN’T FULL.

Apparently, one MUST sacrifice things like comfort and the ability to breathe for the sake of looking good in one’s dress. Apparently, letting the dress out so that one doesn’t feel one’s lungs being slowly crushed is secondary to the threat of ruining the aesthetic of the design, so one must simply NOT EAT to fit into one’s dress. Ah, the Philippines’ obsession with image and being skinny continues to amuse me. Lol

There is power in female friendships, not to mention friendships that were borne out of the excruciatingly hard journey of studying Nursing in Velez College.

This wedding was also a chance to catch up with people I haven’t seen since I graduated from college. The nostalgia and the rehashing of memories made what was already a poignant wedding even more special.

Ah, that darn bouquet toss.

Throughout the years people have come up with several ingenious alternatives to throwing the bouquet and garter, and single girls everywhere have come up with just as many ways to avoid the embarrassment of being the chosen one who gets to go up in front of strangers and make nice with some random guy.

Of course, none of that matters when your friend and the host almost seem to contrive to have you be the last female standing. So…

One must always expect to be kissed because kisses can happen when you least expect it.

I am pretty sure there are still photographic evidences floating around of that EPIC bouquet toss but I am thankfully ignorant of their existence and I’d like to keep it that way. Lol

Family is everything.

I am of the opinion that weddings aren’t really for the couple but for the couple’s family, and that is as it should be. At the wedding reception, Ray and Christine had a tea ceremony as a symbolic gesture of respect to their respective parents.

The traditional father-daughter dance was extremely significant to everyone there who knew the story and the journey towards those tentative steps. I still tear up thinking about it.

I’ve always said that there’s no rush towards marriage, because its a once in a lifetime decision that should not be taken lightly. But I’ve also thought about how my Papa is getting on in age and how I’d really like for him to walk me down the aisle because, out of necessity, he’s missed a lot of milestones in my life.

I’d like my mum to be there blubbering through the ceremony like she always does, and I’d like my aunts and uncles who have helped raise me to be part of that special day. I can’t picture who I’ll end up marrying, but I can picture my family coming together to send me off to my new adventure as a married woman.

Ah, well. To everything there is a season, I suppose.

Love is everything.

For as long as I can remember, I’ve had this idea about how my own love story will go. I scoffed at people who did online dating because is that really the kind of story you want to tell your grandkids someday about how you and your partner met? SHUDDER. 

But that wedding got me thinking about how shallow and superficial my idea of love is, despite my claims of being a hopeless romantic. All that talk has been mostly lip service because I’ve never understood that its not the hows and why’s that are important, its not how you met or where you went on your first date, what’s important is that the love exists.

I was surrounded by couples all throughout the day, and while I’m not rushing into anything because of wedding fever, I think that this wedding was the last puzzle piece that needed to fall into place to make me realise that I’m ready for something real. I’m done with the endless dating and the mind games of will he won’t he, or the people who are only after a good time.

I want a partnership, and I want a marriage. I know its a lifelong commitment, and as someone who’s never really been able to finish the things she starts, it is kind of daunting. But looking at the love that surrounded the entire ceremony during the wedding, well, its not big a leap to say that love…well, it simply makes everything worth it.

Posted in bloggers, dating, Lifestyle, relationships, Self-Discovery

Castles in the Sky

My old boss once told me that one of my greatest strengths is my ability to think of the most outlandish and craziest ideas and then have that idea become a reality. She says that I work like I have my head in the clouds most of the time, and I come down to earth and get on with the business of making things happen.

I suppose I’ve always been a very optimistic person. I’ve been fortunate enough to have an easy and happy childhood. Even when things seemed difficult, life always had a way of sorting things out with or without my help.

Being somewhat of a type A personality of course I wasn’t contented to watch from the sidelines. I’d like to think a took an active role and made some pretty savvy life choices to get to where I am. I’ve made some mistakes along the way but I’ve managed to bounce back from them with my psyche relatively intact.

So yes,  I am a person who’s full of hope. Hope springs eternal; I shit dreams and unicorn and all that. It will be the last thing that leaves my body when I’m dying, and even then I’d probably be clinging to the hope that I can find a way to defeat death somehow.

Hope is a double-edged sword though. On the one hand, it is what propels me to keep going and to keep pursuing the things that I aspire to. But on the other hand, I often wonder how much hope affects my ability to perceive and interpret the reality of what’s actually happening around me.

I sometimes find myself in situations where I do really stupid things in the hopes that things will go my way, despite overwhelming evidence to the contrary. I once built an epic romance out of what was essentially a platonic relationship, based on nothing but hopes and dreams alone.

I’ve travelled tens and thousands of kilometres on the hopes of finding something amazing, based on something as flimsy as a month’s worth of semi-intense connections (and you know, that connection might have just been due to Christmas being in the air and the lights around Central London making things more romantic than they normally were).

I’ve had my heart if not broken, certainly bruised, because I refuse to give up hope without definitive proof, and that definitive proof usually comes in the form of almost soul-crushing disappointment.

After my recent brush with hope and its consequences, it would be tempting to resolve to be a hard-eyed realist from now moving forward. It would certainly save me a lot of tears (and a good chunk of my life savings) if I did.

But the thing is, I wouldn’t know who I am if I wasn’t the kind of person who would go to the other side of the world for the chance of exploring the potential for something more with someone who made my heart beat for the first time in a long time.

And yeah, maybe that blew up in my face a little bit, but I came back to London ready to try again, to give it another go.

And when I get to a point where I’m ready to throw in the towel because I feel like I may never find the kind of love I’ve always dreamed of having, I somehow find an inner reserve of hope that something amazing could still happen.

I suppose what I’ve realised, after having given it some thought since I came back from my holidays, is that I would rather hope and love a little too much, than to ever become a cynic who can’t see the possibilities of the extraordinary in the ordinariness of life.

I’ll keep building my castles in the sky. Who knows? Someday my prince could even come along and join me there. Or better yet, a prince will come along who will share a mortgage with me and join forces in the battle against exorbitant London house prices. Lol

Happy Sunday, one and all.

Posted in bloggers, Travel, Writing

Still Alive, People

Hi guys,

Just writing something short and quick to say I haven’t given up on blogging but I have been away on a three-week trip to the Philippines and Australia. Its been difficult to find the time to write something but I’m back now with plenty to write about.

I’ve learned so much about myself and about life in general while I’ve been gone and I will have plenty to blog about for the foreseeable future. I really want to get it right though, because the things I want to write about mean a lot to me, so I’m taking my time and really reflecting on the things I want to say.

Hope everyone’s enjoyed the epic British summer we had this year. I have to say though, I’m quite looking forward to chill Autumn nights and sleeping in when Winter comes. With that said, I’ve just been told I’ve celebrated one year with WordPress, so I’d like to thank everyone who’ve stuck with me for all the seasons, it means more than I am capable of saying.

Watch this space, blabbaholics and bookworms! x

Posted in Books, Fantasy, LGBT, Reviews, Steampunk

Book Review: The Watchmaker of Filigree Street – Natasha Pulley

When my parents and I visited my cousin in Switzerland last year, she bought us these made-to-order truffles that came in a gorgeous gold box with a blue ribbon around it. At first it looked and tasted like your ordinary run-of-the mill chocolate, and then you kept chewing and chewing and chewing, and suddenly all sorts of flavours explode in your mouth, and its like you discover everything that’s good about the world in that one piece of chocolate truffle.

I know it sounds random, but that is the closest metaphor I could find to describe what it felt like to read this book. 

First of all, I don’t know what Steampunk means, okay? As a blogger and wannabe book reviewer, I should be able to provide a definition for that genre on request but I can’t. This book apparently falls under the genre, and as far as I can tell steampunk is a general term for something that’s set in the Victorian era but contains futuristic (and even fantastical) elements.

I suppose it doesn’t really matter if I don’t know what steampunk means, because I have never read any novel as hard to categorise and put into a box as this one. It defies genres, it defies explanations, and, at different times while reading it, I thought it defined all common sense in the best way possible.

At first glance, one could be forgiven for thinking that this is a simple story about a clerk who works for the Home Office in Whitehall during the Victorian era who was  saved by – of all things – a pocket watch from becoming a victim of a terrible bombing. He traces the origins of this watch back to a mysterious and enigmatic watchmaker on Filigree street, and from there, all sorts of mayhem ensues.

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WARNING: HEADING INTO SPOILER TERRITORY HERE. 

I didn’t quite know what to make of this book at first. By the time I thought to wonder what the hell I was reading, I was already halfway through the book. And that is a testament to the author’s talent as a writer. She can make even the most mundane of things seem interesting. 

And let me tell you, its very easy to judge this book as – as one reviewer on Goodreads so eloquently put it – a one-way ticket to Snoozeville. Those looking for heart-stopping action or a fully-formed plot would find it difficult to get through this book. On the surface, nothing really seems to be happening. Or at least, nothing important anyway.

I think this is one of those books that is more character-driven than plot-driven. The strength of the book lies not in its narrative but rather in the developing relationships between the characters, particularly that of Thaniel (said clerk) and Keita Mori (watchmaker).

There was a very clear chemistry between these two men, a kind of alchemical attraction that is evident in every interaction, even when they’re just sitting around sipping green tea. Their conversations were rapid fire and rife with secret glances and inside jokes; it felt like we, as readers, were being treated to a glimpse of something so unbearably intimate.

It was all so very subtly done that I didn’t even realise I was actually reading a love story until I REALISED I WAS READING A LOVE STORY.

Confession Time: I reread this book last night because it was one of those books that I sort of whizzed through because I was just so impatient to get to the ending. I was never really quite sure that I wasn’t just losing my mind and literally reading too much into things, such that I was seeing and feeling sexual tension where there was none.

But nope. No two ways about it, this book is a bloody romance novel, albeit a really subtle and well-crafted one.

Finding the romance amidst everything that was going on plot-wise was like, I don’t know, that first bite of chocolate truffle, or as Katy Perry once wrote in one of her songs, like eating hard candy with a surprise centre. I didn’t expect it, and it somehow felt more magical to find it because it was so unexpected (kind of like love itself, I suppose).

And the romance was just one of the many pleasant surprises in this book. There were endearing touches of whimsy everywhere, especially in Keita Mori’s clockwork inventions. Everything about the house on Filigree Street feels enchanting, amazing and well ahead of its time.

In fact, my third favourite character (and Thaniel and Mori win by a very narrow margin only by virtue of the fact that they’re ACTUAL human beings) is a mischievous sock-loving clockwork octopus named Katsu.

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Photo credits to Brian Callahan (https://www.artstation.com/artwork/rNDra)

That’s not to say that the book didn’t have its darker moments. It calls to question everything we know about time and the future, specifically our ability to predict it.

Don’t you guys find it mind-bending sometimes how one simple decision can alter our lives forever? Like how, if we decide to take the later train instead of the one we usually catch because we were running late because we decided to party on a weeknight the night before, we end up missing the chance to meet our future husband and therefore all our future children end up being unborn?

Doesn’t it freak you out sometimes how life seems to be made up of all these infinitesimal moments of chance and missed opportunities? 

It sure as hell freaks me out.

Anyway, I’ve gone on and on as usual when all I really wanted to say was that you all should give this book a chance. The reviews have been hit-or-miss so far, and I suppose its all a matter of taste, but I personally would vouch for it. And also, the cover is TO DIE FOR.

Keep an open mind dear readers and fellow bookworms. Open your heart to a lonely Japanese man with a mechanical pet octopus, and you will find yourself wanting to journey to Filigree street, and just like Thaniel, want to stay there forever,

FIVE STARS.

Posted in Books, family, Reviews

Book Review: Washington Black – Esi Edugyan

My colleagues gave me a Waterstones gift card as a leaving present when I left our department after having worked there for five years. I went to the bookshop confident that I would be able to stay within the limits of the gift card, despite past experience of just the opposite happening.

After about an hour of shopping, I was on my way to the till, confident in my choice of books and ready to make the purchase, when I came across this beautifully bound book that had been long listed for the Man Booker Prize this year. It had a picture of some kind of flying contraption on the cover, and a synopsis that would draw in any reader claiming to have a sense of adventure.

So of course I spent an extra 15 pounds on top of the gift card that I had already been given, but after finishing this incredible book I am of the opinion that it was absolutely, no-doubt-about-it money well spent.

Washington Black tells the story of a young boy who grew up as a slave on a plantation in Barbados. His fate changes when he meets scientist, inventor and abolitionist Christopher ‘Titch’ Wilde, brother to the owner of the plantation. Titch takes him under his wing, which sets off a turn of events that will take Wash on an adventure beyond his wildest imaginings.

I have never heard of Esi Edugyan before but after reading this book I’m sure I will be looking out for more of her work in the future. There is something so effortless and melodic about her writing. She kept me so engrossed in Washington’s adventures – and misadventures – that I finished this book in A DAY.

The plotting was so seamless, and she managed to keep the narrative at an even pace despite the many twists and turns the story took. She took her time and allowed the story to unfold organically, and it paid off in the form of a book so well-rounded and – I don’t know – the best word I can used to describe it is FULL.

It is so full and rich in imagery that you will immediately feel yourself transported to wherever it is that Washington’s fate had brought him. You can feel the salty breeze of the West Indies, the icy climes of the Arctic, and – this last one I’m quite familiar with – the smoky, foggy air that is unique to the city of London.

Her characters also came alive under the expert strokes of her pen. It is very hard not to feel empathy for Washington Black. You never really think about how miraculous it is to be free to make your own choices until you realise that some people were born not having any choice at all.

I am not well-versed in the history of slavery or how it eventually came to be abolished, but all the same I am grateful to the men and women who made it all possible. I can’t even conceive of a world where my time is not my own, where personal freedom is only a nebulous concept. Its hard to believe that it was once the only way of life that people like Washington Black knew.

Despite all of that, you can’t help but cheer Wash on as he struggles to rise above his station, as he starts to come to terms with what being free means to him. It was an absolute gem to see his journey come full circle, as he realises that the world is his oyster – at least that’s the conclusion I drew from that incredibly ambiguous ending.

Freedom, Wash, is a word with different meanings to different people

– Titch

He was supported by a cast of characters that were as colourful and diverse as they were complex. I like how Esi painted them in shades of grey, how she showed that even with the best of intentions, human beings get it wrong more often than they get it right. The best we can hope for is that we do a little bit of good and leave the world a better place than when we found it.

This is a beautiful tale of personal strength, friendship and love. It paints a beautiful picture of the ties that bind us to another human being, and that no amount of time or distance or separation will ever be able to severe those ties.

Apart from all that, it was just one hell of a great ride. I absolutely loved it. 

Get your own copy from Waterstones now, you won’t regret it!

Posted in Lifestyle, Self-Discovery, Travel

The Gift of Disney

For my birthday this year, my sister bought me an all-expense paid trip to Disneyland Paris.

Anyone who knows me would know that this is the most perfect gift anyone could have given me. I don’t care if this is my 31st birthday. In my opinion, you stop needing Disney when you are on your deathbed. I cannot conceive of any age where I won’t feel excited at the sight of Sleeping Beauty’s castle or when I won’t get a giddy feeling when I hear the opening notes of A Whole New World.

I digress. 

There is something to be said about a company who’s entire ethos is built on the power of dreams, on the power of believing that something magical is waiting to happen just around the corner.

And I know in this cynical world, where more often than not it is violence and not pixie dust that is commonplace, that may seem really trite and corny. I had a colleague who incredulously asked ‘Why??” when I said I was spending my birthday in Disneyland. He asked me whether I wouldn’t rather go to Italy to soak up some culture instead.

(Yeah…no. I’ve been to Italy so many times and I’m all cultured out thank you very much. I just want to see Mickey, Minnie and the entire gang of Disney Princesses).

Walt Disney once said that the problem with the world is that too many people grow up. I agree with that statement but only up to a certain point. Because as accurate as that may have been in the 50s or 60s, in these turbulent times you HAVE to grow up fast if you want to make it. If you want to survive.

I don’t think people growing up is the problem so much as it is people equating growing up with letting go of their dreams. Too many people stop seeing the world with wonder. Too many people go through life just waiting to be disappointed rather than thinking of it as one grand adventure.

And can you really blame them?

These are hard times. And it sometimes feels like its going to get worse before it gets better. President Trump. Brexit. Wars. Never-ending conflict in the Middle East. Harvey Weinstein. I’ve stopped keeping up with current events because it feels like there’s always suffering somewhere in the world. Its really hard to keep believing in the wishes our hearts make in the face of such troubles.

On a more personal front, the week before we went to Disney was one of the more challenging weeks of my life.  I don’t do change very well and that week felt like a week of endings: I was saying goodbye to something that had been a major part of my life for the better part of the decade in order to do something different. I said goodbye to a friend who’d been like a rock for me these past couple of years because she’s moving back to Australia.

I wasn’t feeling very Zip-A-Dee-Doo-Dah.

I was also feeling all kinds of depressed and yes, afraid, about the fact that I am now officially in my 30s and I don’t feel like I have anything to show for it. The fear of ageing hits you at the oddest of times but all the more so on birthdays I think.  Birthdays always make me feel the weight of all of society’s expectations more than any other time of the year. I always feel like my life never quite measures up to the standards of how a 30-year-old’s life should be.

WHAT A LOAD OF RUBBISH.

Like I said, I really needed this Disney trip. It made me realise that as scary as the world is becoming, I shouldn’t let it affect me so much because at the end of the day, there’s not much I can do about it. What will be will be.

I should also stop thinking about living my life according to other people’s standards. I say this all the time, but every time my birthday comes around (or when someone has a kid, or gets married, or achieves some other milestone that I’m nowhere near achieving), I always forget this  one simple truth: we will all go through life our own way, and the only person who gets to decide how we should our lives is US.

What I should be more afraid of is the concept of fear itself. I admit, I sometimes have anxiety problems. I worry too much about consequences that sometimes I don’t even bother trying. I let my fears get in the way of me experiencing new things. I can’t count the number of opportunities I’ve let slip simply because I was too afraid to try, or to say how I feel.

So whilst I was queuing up to ride the Hyper Space Mountain on Frontier Land, I suddenly decided that this year would be the Year of No Fear. I would make a point of going after things that scare me. If it makes me feel anxious, if it gets me out of my comfort zone, then its probably worth doing, if only for the life experience.

I will try not to be afraid of going after something I want, even if I crash and burn in the process. What’s the worse that could happen? Rejection? Heartbreak? Humiliation? I can survive all those things. What I won’t survive is regret, or looking back years from now and thinking about what could have been.

I don’t think my sister realised the impact of the birthday present she’d given me this year. It’s given me back a portion of the belief and wonder that I had as a child, and has made me resolve to go through life thinking that something amazing is going to happen every day. Its infinitely better than going through life being afraid all the time. It’s the year of no fear, and when we get over our fears I think that’s when we really start to live.

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All this introspection aside though, I just really REALLY enjoyed going to Disneyland. I wouldn’t want you to think I spent the entire weekend ruminating on the meaning of life.

 

EYE. ROLL.

 

I spent the weekend fighting with children for a spot to see Cinderella, riding rollercoasters and magic carpets and singing It’s A Small World After All. I saw Disney Princesses, and my heart went all a flutter when all those Prince Charming’s made an appearance.

There was lights, music, fireworks and Mickey Mouse on parade.

It was epic, fabulous and all kinds of awesome. It was the perfect way to start the Year of No Fear.

Happy 31st to me. Its going to be a great year, I can feel it. 

 

Posted in Books, Fantasy, Young Adult

Book Review: Monsters of Verity Duology – V.E. Schwab

She tried to swim to the surface but it kept stretching out of reach. It was like the cusp between waking and sleep, where you couldn’t hold on to your thoughts. Couldn’t hold on to anything.

But she held on to him.

Once in a while, you come across the kind of written work that makes you wish you had the talent to craft something so beautiful out of something that’s so dark and twisted.

I’ve loved V.E. Schwab ever since I picked up the Shades of Magic trilogy last year. As an author, I think there are no limits to what her imagination can conceive and what she can put into words. In a time where everyone seems to be writing about love triangles and sparkly vampires, she dares to be different.

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This Savage Song, the first book in the Monsters of Verity series, opens up with our “heroine” committing arson by burning down the chapel in the Catholic school she was attending. Talk about something starting with a bang. The opening chapter alone made me sit up and take notice. Right out of the gate, I knew this was not going to be a typical YA fantasy novel.

The concept behind this series is simple and yet strangely complex at the same time. Verity is a city teeming with monsters that arise in the aftermath of horrible crimes and savage acts. There are three known kinds: Corsai, who are born out of violent but non-lethal acts, like to prey on flesh. Malchai, born out of murder, feed on blood.

And last but not least, the Sunai, who are born out crimes so horrible that they take out the lives of more than one person, feed on souls. However, they can only feed on the souls of sinners, and to hear their song is to feel your soul being reaped from you one note at a time. They are considered to be the worst kind of monsters because they look, walk and talk just like humans, until you look into the bottomless depths of their eyes.

The city itself is divided into two factions: the North City, ruled by Callum Harker, who “controls” the monsters and who makes the inhabitants pay for his protection; and the South City, ruled by Henry Flynn, whose small band of soldiers patrol the streets in order to keep humans safe from the monsters.

And because this is some kind of retelling of Romeo and Juliet (in like, a sick, distorted kind of way), OF COURSE, Callum and Henry have  two offsprings that meet somewhere and get to know each other in a way that makes readers hopeful that some kind of love story will arise from the gruesomeness of this tale.

Right.

If you’re looking for happily-ever-after, you might want to move on to the new Stephenie Meyer novel or reread Twilight. There are no cutesy, holding hands in the dark and chasing each other down the beach moments here.

Kate Harker is no Juliet. And while August Flynn may have the looks of someone who would spout sonnets in the moonlight and liken his lady love to a summer’s day, he would just as likely kill someone with his violin than he would make love to a woman.

I love atypical and imperfect main characters. I think they’re so much more relatable than those characters that are perceived to be perfect by everyone around them. I think the fact that these characters are neither purely good nor evil makes them more compelling and interesting, and it mirrors the truth of what it means to be human.

Its not always black and white. We are defined largely by the sum total of our life experiences and the choices we’ve made and have stood by. I think what I realised while reading this book is that life tends to be one large grey area most of the time, and no one really has the right to judge anyone by what they do when faced with an impossible situation.

Apart from being thought-provoking, this two-book series is also action-packed and gruesome in the best way possible. It is not afraid to be graphic and descriptive about mankind’s capacity for violence, and it just makes me think about how we’ve come a long way from the days when YA was synonymous to Jessica and Elizabeth Wakefield in the Sweet Valley series.

There is a lot of violence in these books, but the good thing is that it never feels gratuitous or senseless. The violence feels like an integral part of the story; it feels like we NEED to see and get past the bad parts in order to get to some kind of resolution, just like real life.

Some part of me always knew how this series would end, and I wasn’t far off in my predictions actually. Still, when I came to the climactic conclusion of ‘Our Dark Duet‘ (the second book in the series), I found myself sobbing like a baby and crying ugly tears, even as I knew it could not have ended any other way.

The author allows you to develop such a personal connection with her characters. You are able to share in their joys, sorrows, triumphs and loss. But it also means that the ending of the story packs a real punch because you feel like you’ve gone through this roller coaster journey with them.

So no, it wasn’t a happy ending, but what it was was hopeful and redemptive. It leaves you with the feeling that this is a story that is just beginning, and that there is so much more work to be done before there can be real and lasting peace in Verity.

People were messy. They were defined not only by what they’d done, but by what they would have done, under different circumstances, moulded as much by their regrets as their actions, choices they stood by and those they wished they could undo. Of course, there was no going back – time only moved forward – but people could change.

For worse. For better. It wasn’t easy. The world was complicated. Life was hard. And so often, living hurt.

So make it worth the pain. 

I am under no illusions that this is an unbiased review. I love love love this series. To me, it is absolutely faultless, and I would really recommend it for people who love world-building, fantasy and a taste of something different. Happy reading, bookworms!