On to a heavier issue – no pun intended -, I am again a bum.  I do not want to stress the matter, and so I will not post the sordid details of my separation from a company I’ve barely gotten the chance to know.  Rest assured I am still looking at options (Thank you Jobstreet, you make my life oh so easy!), although I haven’t taken any action yet to secure am a new job.  Yes folks, I shameless.  Heaven help me. *sad face*

Start by preheating a pot, adding just the right amount of oil after a few seconds.  Saute the onion and ginger slices - adding the minced garlic after a second or two - for a minute, or until the onion turns translucent and the air is filled with the aroma of ginger and garlic.  Add in the chicken and flavor the dish with fish sauce.  Let the cutlets sit over low heat with occasional stirring, until partially cooked.  Pour  in the rice wash carefully - too much won't do the trick - then mix in the papaya chunks.  Place a lid over the pot and let simmer until the papaya becomes fork tender; a teaspoon or two of fish sauce won't hurt if the broth is too bland.  Place the pepper leaves on top of the pot, cover, and cook for a minute at most.

Ta-da! :roysMom:

I'm princess-y and delusional that way. :bigeyes:

Anyway, to deviate from my existential angst rants, my birthday turned out to be happier than I anticipated.:blush:  Sure, Joe and I were only able to get out of the house Sunday evening, and all we did was have dinner at a fancy-schmancy resto, but it's fine.  We played Naruto Uzumaki Chronicles 2 most of the day; from time to time we scuttled out of the room to join everybody outside who was celebrating multiple birthdays (celebrating mine was pure coincidence, they didn't know that it was actually my birthday that day).  My parents called up to say that they had their own little feast here at home (yes, I'm in Tarlac), with a cake and candles to boot.  Friends and family extended their greetings, and my dad-in-law bought me a cake. (I don't like cherries but hey, you can't be ungrateful.  Besides, the chocolate shavings were heavenly.)  So all in all Sunday didn't turn out to be a blaaaaaah.:-D

A toast to being 23, and trying to love it. (Now if only I had a glass of vodka right now....):soju:

I did pretty well today, though.  Had nothing but seafood marinara and a glass of orange juice.  And I'm not planning to have dinner.  Yes, it is a crash diet; and no, I do not care what health buffs or dietitians will say.  Dieting, I believe, is a "to each his own" business.  A person who generalizes that anyone going on a crash diet will eventually succumb to food bingeing is just bluffing, believe me.  It worked for me during the summer prior to my college freshman year, and I was able to stick to my normal weight the whole of my college life.

So now, after more than a year of being a true-blue food junkie, I am once again ready to take on the challenge of having mini-meals, no carbonated drinks, and no fried food.  (Oh the horror!)  I have no more excuse, see.  Ysa's a year old and I cannot anymore say that the weight I put on is a result of having a baby.  Other than that I am getting more and more insecured on a day-to-day basis; and I am D-Y-I-N-G to fit into my old jeans already.

Plus, I want to fit into a swimsuit come summer.  Hehehehe.

So, the GROUND RULES:

• No softdrinks, not even the 'lite' kind.
• Limit of one rice/pasta serving a day.
• No fried food.
• No pork.
• No chicken skin.
• No whipped cream on Starbucks frappes, if I can help it. (Please give me this indulgence waaaaaah!!!)
• No cake, ice cream, or any dessert for that matter.
• No solid food after 4pm.

Yihee!!!

So far my first week at work has been really great.  It didn't feel like work at all - I felt like I was attending a class.  And although we were forewarned about this week - we'll be having our CST (client specific training), see, and we were told that the trainers are really strict - I am still psyched to go to work.  Yes, really.  And that is despite a very sore throat (so itchy!). 

Oh and it's a relief that this week's sched is "normal" - 8am til 5pm.  At least Joe and I have the same schedule:  We no longer have to put up with seeing each other for just an hour each day.  Happy!!!:-D

THE OC

Again I chanced upon The OC on ETC this morning and I couldn't help but watch it.  I've been an on-and-off The OC fan since I got curious about it back when I still bummed around the house.  Today's the final episode of the whole installment, and the bit on Summer and Seth really struck me.  See here, Seth and Summer began living with each other when their houses were damaged by an earthquake, and they got so comfortable with each other that they literally let go of themselves: they didn't take regular baths, and weren't interested in anything else but this show entitled 'Briefcase or No Briefcase'.  When Seth and his family were deliberating on moving to another state they realized individually that they weren't bringing out the best in each other, and that's not okay.  So they decided to let each other go - not in the sense that they broke up - so that they will grow as persons.  Summer pursued her passion for the environment, Seth went to another school.  All's well that ends well.

I've been thinking about this, and I think I should double my effort on letting Joe and I grow individually even though we're happy when we're with each other.  I mean, now I see the downside of being together all the time -  we tended to mimic each other to the point that we're starting to lose our identities.  And that's really not okay.  So starting today, I'll try my best not to be so imposing (which I realized I am).:heart:

Am I going to get through this job?  I hope so.  Lots of people have, so there's no reason for me not to.  Besides, the job pays well.  A relatively high basic salary + non-taxable allowance + incentive for getting in a top account + commissions (later on, that is).... I guess it's worth a screwed-up time perspective.  Personally, though, I wish I have programming skills and be really computer-savvy like Joe - then graveyard shifts won't be bad at all because a programmer post pays really well. :-D:2cents::2cents::2cents:

This isn't connected to my post at all, but I'd love to have a slice of cheesecake right now.  Heeehee. 

Joe sent me this Friendster message today: 

sorry di na kita sinamahan kanina.

nagbago isip ko kasi naisip ko na mas okey kung mag-isa mo na pagtatagumpayan ang maliit na pagsubok na ito. sounds bullshit pero yun talaga gusto ko for you.

it crossed my mind that it would be romantic if i accompanied you to work on your first day. however, my better judgement told me that i have to let you grow (figuratively, of course). you know that i love you and i only want the best for you.

i hope you do well on your first day. good luck and i love you. :)

CHRONIC ENVY

There are times when it is almost too painful to check my Friendster account, just because everyone seems so happy.  My profile is plastered with happy pictures of friends and former friends and former schoolmates: one is in a swimsuit with her boyfriend; another is sipping what looks like a martini; and yet another is smiling gleefully while holding a balloon (yes, a balloon!).  And everytime I fight the urge to check their profiles out, for fear of being consumed by envy.  For why do their lives seem so perfect?  Where's the drama, where's the unintentional emphatic signal?  Martinis, cars, beaches, parties... and all the while here I am, not hard-up and not unhappy, but no martinis.  No car. No beaches. No parties.

I have so much growing up to do.

In retrospect I am enlightened about my sister-in-law's behavior.  Perhaps, after more than a decade, she still hasn't made up her mind to grow up.  Hence, the no-show for days at home; the gimmicks; the incessant use of the telephone.  Yes yes, with three kids ... oh I'd like to strike her with a broomstick!  But I pity her, sometimes, because she seems so lost.  However, now that I think about it, she isn't lost at all!  She knows perfectly where she is, and she know's what she's doing and not doing, and that is what scares me about her.

Oh but I confess that sometimes, especially when she goes home with bags and bags of shoes and clothes, and acts like she's eighteen and conquering the world (in her case the worldly world hahaha), I envy her.  There I said it.  But I made a choice to grow up, and that's what I am going to do.

CHRISTMAS COUNTDOWN

It's 22 days before Christmas, and I'm a bit sad about the fact that I will receive my first paycheck on the 30th.  That means there's a good chance Joe and I will have to forego some of our plans - whether that be buying everyone in the extended family presents, or going somewhere nice.  Oh, on the other hand, there's really a big chance we won't be able to have a Christmas get-away because it's either I'm working or both of us are.  Yes, there's no question that I'll be going to work that day.  Poor old me.  And here's what's making the whole arrangement worse:  I am actually driving myself mad conjuring these images wherein Joe and Ysa are at home hugging everbody else (yes my mother-in-law and sister-in-law-whom-I-don't-like included) and counting down the seconds before Christmas finally arrives and eating Noche Buena with e-v-e-r-y-b-o-d-y.  Not that I'd really like to be a part of that but I would really love to have my husband and my daughter with me when the clock strikes twelve.  And I fear that's not going to happen.

Oh and I would just like to say that I am so stupid for buying a "cedula" from a fixer stationed outside the NBI building last Wednesday when I applied for a clearance.  My goodness, I am so naive!  To think I believe I've wisened up after more than 5 years of living in the NCR... Sigh.  As for the clearance, although I know I am not a criminal, nor have I ever been arrested or indicted, I am still scared of what will turn up on Monday.  What if somebody got me involved in a crime? What if I became the victim of a frame-up?!?!? 

I am in a mini-mini-mall right now, killing time while waiting for 2 pieces of supermarket chicken to be grilled.  It's my sis-in-law's birthday, see, and Joe said it would be nice if we added to dinner.  To clarify, the sis-in-law I'm talking about is SURELY not the one I hate. Hehehe.

A step towards independence is always hard.  Joe has taken a mini-step; he's on a weaning process, lucky him.  Lucky to have the courage to step out of our cramped quarters, hostage to grand dreams, and, perhaps, each other.  I haven't gotten out.  I envy him that way.

Growing up, my mother often told me I should not live within song lyrics, sad movies, and my emotions.  She saw through me; or maybe more than once she witnessed breakdowns triggered by rainfall, or the evening chill, or a sad line.  I lived that way all my life, see.  One song after the other, one line at a time.  I paid no attention to my mom, because I didn't know what could happen.  I was young, and I often joked that my ' episodes' are side-effects of my high IQ (geniuses and mentally challenged people tread the same line, don't they?).

I am excessively romantic, not surprisingly, and unfortunately.  I have categorically considered it a vice, and one that should be outgrown, if I want our relationship to work.  But man, IT IS SO DAMN HARD! I am struggling with the thought of getting out.  And people think I'm so much the extrovert!  To be honest, I don't have a life outside my mini-world.  I know I should have one (Joe has one already!).  I know I know I know!  Sadly, though, rationality has its threshold; and apparently mine is embarrassingly low.  I think Wilma Flintstone is more rational than I could ever be.  And I am a Philosopy major.  

I am my Joe's catty princess, but I cannot stay atop a pedestal, with him looking up all the time.  And there's so much grown-up insight there, I'm finding it difficult to comprehend.