New Beginnings

We had a full moon last weekend, an auspicious time to move in to a new house. At least, according to Chinese superstition. I am part Filipino, part Chinese and part Spanish. Old wives tales do not compare to the bizarre beliefs and traditions my folks have me practice. The first thing I had to bring in the house was rice, to symbolize the entry of prosperity in my new home (and remember, I had to move in with the full moon). I followed my dad's advice, I had nothing to lose.

I digress from my story. Yes, I am moving in to new house. I used to say I am a stone's throw away from the South Coast Plaza mall. Now, I am literally a stone's toss away. The parking lot of Crystal Court sits behind my backyard. If I can convince the city to put a walkway from my backyard to the mall, it will be absolute bliss.

It has been a busy week and that is the reason I have not posted a blog for the past week. I am not done yet. I am moving in slowly, prepping a room at a time. I started with the kitchen, cleaning and disinfecting the cabinets. Then lining the shelves, then putting in dishes. I was doing that until 2 am and I still have a few shelves to line and a few dishes to move. It is excruciatingly slow, but I'll get there.

I'll have a housewarming next month. And I'll post pictures.

Back to my moving and it might be another week for the next post. We'll see.

Shopping Under The Influence

Vodka nights under Martini lights. Or is it the other way around? It is a little fuzzy after a few swigs of Absolut Kurant. Or is it the Goose?

I ran across an article about shopping under the influence. A girl was complaining about waking up and finding a charge on her card that she doesn't remember. Another girl whines about packages she gets in the mail that she does not recall ordering.

Drunk shopping is a phrase me and my girlfriends coined after a few shopping trips in South Coast Plaza, but not before we guzzled a few Flirtinis at The Clubhouse. Don't get me wrong. After a stressful week at the office, we splurge, but not before a few cocktails. Then we get carried away, like how normal girls would be swept off their feet by Manolo Blanik or Franco Sarto, depending on one's budget or how much martinis were consumed (usually it's dependent on the latter). I remember a night when we got carried away by a shoe sale. Tina, Peri and I walked out with a minimum of 6 bags each and the mall was dark. It was past 10 and all the other stores are closed. Fortunately, The Clubhouse was still open and we were able to get our much needed nightcap.

So the article about shopping under the influence did not surprise me at all. What surprised me is that the shopping all these girls do is online. It is a lot more fun to drunk shop at the mall--with your girlfriends. Trust me, I'm an expert on this (hic).

Been Busy

There are a lot of things to talk about, but my schedule has been a little hectic. I hate to neglect this blog and I swear I will not allow this to die a natural death.

I still have to finish re-uploading the old attachments and should be able to start back up by this weekend.


I've spent an evening with the girls, dinner and drinks and more drinks back at my place. Vinny, Andrea's 4-year old is getting bigger. I am still amazed that he can now carry a conversation. I've seen him grow and now at the age where is developing his own personality. Watch, he'll be taller than I am in a few years.



I just had another massage last night and it put me in a lethargic yet relaxed stupor. A week after I had the "princess & the pea" incident, David, my massage therapist, found a pea-sized knot on my back. Grant & I burst out laughing and we had to tell him about the pea I found on the floor the morning after I tossed and turned the night before and got very little sleep (see blog posted March 12). David started chuckling in the middle of my massage because he suddenly remembered the inside joke.

This weekend is going to be quiet. I have family visiting starting next week so it will be hectic again. I can't wait though. It will be fun.

The Massage Therapist

I've been getting a massage therapy for the past month. This is no ordinary massage. For starters, the massage therapist comes to my house. Then I get one and a half hour for an hour's worth of soothing, healing deep-tissue massage. I have all the candles and the aromatic scents all set up and adds to the relaxing ambiance.

Let me describe my massage therapist. His name is David, a huge, tall and burly black guy, who could literally scoop me up with one hand with ease. He is a giant teddy bear as far as I am concerned, a person with a good heart.

The massage is the best part of course. I thought a massage is just a massage, but David brings it to another level. After the last massage, I realized that he wasn't just giving a massage. He really sees the muscles that need healing and stretching. He sees with his hands and fingers.

I thought it was just a load of crap. But you just have to take my word for it. He does not ordinarily go to your house. If you want to check him out, he is in Orthopaedic and Spine Care in Huntington Beach.

I can't wait until my next session.

The Doctor Said I'm Not Gonna Die

The verdict is in. Last week's test reveals no evidence of cancer, no evidence of infection, just narrowed airways in the right lung. Duh.... that's what the CT scan showed and that's what everyone--me and three doctors--know already. But as to what's causing the narrowing of the airways, it's still a puzzle.

So what's next? Steroids. We need to get the airways to open up. My only fear is getting chest hair and growing a moustache. The doctor assured me that it's not a concern, but I want to make sure. On the plus side, I might be able to join the circus if that happens. Are bearded ladies still an attraction at Barnum and Bailey?

I shouldn't be complaining. After all, the doctor said I'm not gonna die.