piece of cake

metamorphosis

Again I heard somebody say, damn arlan you’ve changed. Change,
isn’t there a line that say nothing is constant except change. Ok I am guilty
of really have this change… coz I feel more comfortable with this. What is
surprising? Fashion does change every season so do I. It is just that some
classic in me doesn’t work in the contemporary times. Allow me please. Did I say
please? Hey I shouldn’t say that, I change not to please anybody but just to be
really me.

change is all but sign of growing up. we change for the better of course. now let me see shall i start getting rid of my  striped shirts…maybe not.

it never passes a day without me reminding my staff :think high end…what you are creating is a piece of art. i know i sound like an old vinyl disk playing the same old music.

what we create are things people crave…more satisfying a want. pure luxury prices of which can’t be access by an individual without a fat disposable fund.

i cant get over the experience i had last night. everything is surreal  that  playing it over and over in my mind refreshes my memory and gets me going.

everything was perfect…sterling silver oneida cutlery, fine china, sparkling lalique crystals,  delicate linen in blue, lisianthus and gerberas in purple and orange…. all laid on the table to spell  magic.  the food was impeccable and palatable thanks to my chef friend who willingly played accomplice.

above all these details… YOU  complete the scenario.  your charm spruces up color to the very neutral room lit by candles. every words you utter seem to have a melody that pleases my ears.

it was the night i wish the world stopped rotating…the hands of time stood still. i wish i can hold you forever in my makeshift  wonderland.

lesson learned: my palette loves the sweetness of a dessert but its sweeter when a slice of cake is  shared by two.

damn me. i regret it. i forgot to give you a good night kiss to cap the awesome night. 

hard to learn the rudiments of keeping relationships.with criteria set at unconditional level, who wouldn’t go to great lengths just to express how much they care. but such bar is …most of the time tough to achieve. unconditional  yeah unconditional.

heart does feel tired too.

people do express and sometimes become creative just to bring forth happiness, to flatter the recipient. Of course who wouldn’t love to receive, it feels great. but i am wondering why does some receipient don’t return back the favor, since they exprienced it gives a special feeling inside.

maybe, though the effort is there, it is not enough to impress them.

c’mon be gracious.

if you are feeling this way..then you are driving in a one way street.

sorry but i can’t persevere…got a long journey ahead. I am heading back to the highway. it may be busy but at least i am back to reality..that life is a big traffic.

green light is on…on to my next crusade.

goodbye for now.

p.s.i will bid hello if i meet you in the avenue but not in the narrow alley.

for the past years, i frontrunned a crusade that promotes singleness, and that marriage is not for everybody. i thought that having my job as the love of my life would be enough to get by. till i got hit by the meteor of loneliness, i turned my back and sailed with a different view.

my bestfriend struck me when she said that we just discovered the human need to belong, belong to someone to call our own. isnt it nice to knowhyou have someone waiting for you.

that very instant i phoned her. funny how will we satisfy this need when we dont expose ourselves that much. we remembered a line in a song: pity those who wait, trusting love to fate. then resolved that we got to work to find love.

what if we just stick together and love. no! bad idea. then she is right. this is our karmic punishment. karma…maybe not.   

my family is mourning over the death of my grandmother, Paz Lorilla Dionaldo. we will surely miss her. 

lola pacing’s house is the sanctuary or, to my cousins’, a prison for deliquent anak. hehehehe sori ate anna. of the eight apos she got, i stayed in the ancestral house the longest. not that i am the most stubborn but i felt, at an early age of 4, at home staying there. till now every vacation i still stay there.

as a toddler my lola taught me to pray the angelus and hail holy queen in latin. she would tag me along whenever she will say prayers for the dead in our neighborhood. she was my constant companion in the church.

lola do play favorites. kuya allan being the eldest apo is the apple of her eye. i remember when lolo died 1985, lola was crying and calling on kuya’s name during the interment. so when we got back home, she was the center of our jokes. still she denied she has a favorite. when aunt daling died eleven years after, we kidded her never to mention kuya’s name again, she promised she won’t. as we lay my aunt’s coffin in the tomb, we were all crying suddenly we burst into laughter… lola called on kuya’s name again. people were left wondering what was the fuzz all about. this is a classic family story, that we keep on remembering whenever we have gatherings.

áhhh another lola’s classic story. every new year’s eve the whole dionaldo clan gathers in my lola’s house and our new year kicks off with a prayer led by her. Lola would always warn my dad and siblings never to bring fireworks. so my dad would keep it in a place where she won’t find it. moreover, as the whole world is enjoying the turn of the new year with all the blast and noise, the dionaldo clan is in silence saying a thanksgiving prayer. too many new year eves we have asked her to pray early but she insists. only lately when i was tasked to lead the prayer, we say it an hour before midnight.

my lola got a sharp memory about all her eight apos. she knows most of our stories’, which guests enjoy during gatherings.

i will surely miss her requests for kisses. cadbury chocolates without nuts, ice cream, jollibee and mcdonald’s… she loves peach mango pie too much. i will miss her voice asking me why do i have to work abroad. i feel guilty co’z last month i talked with her and i joked that i am coming home in the next two days. no more new year thanksgiving prayer with her.

sad i wasn’t at her side when she left but i am happy for her. and here is the secret: lola do have a favorite… it is me. sabi ni lola yun sa akin.

wherever you are lola…i will miss you. d ka na nakahintay sa amin nila ate. see you in heaven. 

inaanok man ako ngunit dapat ko nang isulat ito kc nais kong fresh pa sa isip ko ang napagusap namin ng ksamahan ko.

ang taas ng demand sa mga collection ko ng upuan. feeling ko ay nakajackpot kami. para na kaming it bag na hermes or fendi. 3500USD ang average na halaga ng isang upuan namin, kaya dapat lang na mataas ang kalidad and couture ang dating.

dapat lang na mahal dahil masusi namin itong pinag-aralan at ang daming proseso para lang magawa ang isa. isa pa signatue chairs po ito (brand:petals) hehehehe. lingid sa alam ng mamimili,daming luha, pawis at chicken fried rice mula sa Al Nasr ang puhunan sa mga ito.

selling like hotcakes ang mga chairs namin. haba ng pila.

kahit na abala nakuha pa namin ni gilbert at rene na sandaling maupo at magkuwentuhan. tawanan kami ng binalikan namin yung unang mga araw pagkatapos kong tanggapin ang hamon na muling buhayin ang upholstery department,

nakakatwa kc inilabas namin ang larawan ng pinaka una naming chair na ginawa. palpak at ang daming mali. pero may bumili. hahahaha. ang tao nga naman di mo maintindihan ang taste.

memorable sa akin ang upuan na yun kc maraming gabi na di ako pinatulog sa kakaisip hanggang sa may nakaibig sa kanya na mamimili. haaaay salamat wala na siya.   

mahigit tatlong taon na ang nakaraan, ngayon sabi ko nga kay gilbert, masters na kaming tatlo at sana tumagal pa ang team namin.

unbeatable talaga. truimvirate.

gaya ng inaasahan, ibat-iba ang reaksyon sa pagbukas ng pinaka latest ko na window display. marami ang nasorpresa at marami ang di natuwa.

sanay na ako, kung hindi siguro matagal na akong wala sa mundo ng pagdidisenyo. saka subjective ika ng iba ang lahat ng criticisms

ang nakakatuwa ay ang reaksyon ng mga dating kong kasamahan na ngayon ay naglilingkod sa kabilang tindahan. sa sobrang "shock" ay kinuhanan pa nila ng litrato ang aking gawa. di lang yun may kumalat pa na balita na kopya ang aming gawa. natawa lang ako sa kanilang reaksyon. paano ba naman, bakit sila maiinsecure sa hamak na dating assistant ng kanilang amo. patunay lang ito na sinusubaybayan pa rin nila ang takbo ng aming kumpanya sa ilalim ng aking pamamahala sa creative.

salamat mga dating kasama. hangad ko na kayo pa rin ang maging d best. happy na ako as a runner-up.

teka matanong lang… bakit on sale lahat ng items nyo at 50% off…hmmm d pa yata bawi investment nyo.

if there’s one thing can’t survive without…it got to be a can of coke. i love cola more than water.

pagbaba ng sasakyan diretso na ako sa opis ni Mr. Coke. Isang dirham lang…gugulong na ang pangpatid ng aking uhaw. laging ganyan ang simula ng aking araw.

pag ako a nagpanic during sa set-up…coke. pag may sumpong ako tatakbo agad si gilbert sa vending machine para may coke. pag nag-iisip…katabi ko ay coke. pagnagpupuyat…coke. i can skip a meal but not coke. sa pag-ikot ko sa aking nasasakupan bitbit ko siya. minsan nga tatanungin ko ang aking kasamahan kung mahal nila ako…alam nila na ibig kong sabihin ay magpapabili ako ng coke. kung walang coke wlang buhay.

panahon na para i clean my act. got to live a healthy life. aware ako na malapit na akong humiwalay sa partner ko kung di madadali ang buhay ko dahil sa diabetes.

di ko malilimot ang aming pinagsamahan. buti pa ang coke di ako iniiwan. kelan kaya darating ang COKE ng buhay ko. tagal naman. sana malapit na.

had i not been an architect i would consider a career in writing. i am fascinated with how cleverly they layout words to get their message across. thoughts they impart make difference in their readers’ lives. frankly, i dont have what it takes to be a writer…..a simply dont like writing as in scribbling. moreover can”t stand sitting for a certain time…i am hyperactive; just hate being still.

during my school days, i hate doing the quarterly theme papers. i can’t write legibly and to make it worst neatly. i’m too lazy then doing that. but i have an idea what i want to communicate. i will always be in state of panic when the bell rings.

my biggest crack in writing came when we did our high school yearbook, FLAMBEAU ‘88. the entire pool of writers were busy shopping for school that i was left to take the pitch. i was a part of the circulation group. left with no choice, i borrowed my sister’s typewriter and started tinkering using my two fingers. it was tough, doing write-ups for schoolmates whom i completely don’t know.

1994, our lady of lourdes seminary.breaking from the tradition of priest saying his homily, select seminarians were asked to do their sharing. i am one of those fortunate souls to have the chance. i would stay late reading and doing research for i feel i owe to my listener what i will be imparting. i would never forget my sharing during the feast of the angels, my work dealt on how to differentiate an angel from the devil. to this date, i still have the draft. (have a story on this soon).

my english teacher in the seminary, never liked my essay. occassionally, she will send her advance students (a-list ehem i am one of them)to the library and tasked to do essay about anything. i would write about my fave subjects: design, people i wanted to meet and all about lifestyle. most of the time, my work would yield a fair grade and would harvest comments like too dramatic, too much flair, too magazine. too magazine…well i then succeeded that is my intention. but the truth is she is dismayed with my subjects, she was expecting me to write about myself, my surroundings, my faith, about GOD. i was then so ashamed because it is really ironic, when my formators are teaching us about vows of poverty, chastity and obedience, my mind is preoccupied with things of this world of which they are helping us to detach from. but hey i was never kicked-out from the formation house because of this, i just follow my bliss.

the legion of mary-dubai, gave me the chance to write again  this time for the patrician forum. cyndie and i were the head of the patrician society and our baby project was to come-up with a monthly paper. well the stint didn’t last that long (a year and a half).i resigned from my post for my job requires more of my time.   

contemporarily, i have to content myself doing business letters… memoranda… for their are a lot of concerns i have to address in the office particularly deliquent staff. hehehehe.

this space will be my avenue to write again, to chronicle my life for the pleasure of reading it when i am feeling nostalgic.whether readers will relate to my plight or not. i believe, i would make sense to somebody.   

having done this post i can say writing is just a piece of cake… you be the judge.