What Neverland Taught Me

This is a very random post while I am waiting for my pie crust to set. It is around 10:12 pm and my mind loiters into empty spaces in the nooks and crannies of my room. They say an idle mind is a dangerous mind, ergo, these moments call for some creativity while my body still fuels on stored energy. Oh, I am making a Chocolate Ganache Tart. I am craving for something that I will not eat anyway. Lucky members of the house! I turn whisks to the tune of Your Heart is an Empty Room by Death Cab for Cutie. I know, its not really a melody that will induce you to jump off your chair and crack eggs. It is a song that is best suited for driving, but I enjoy quiet once in a lifetime episodes like these which I would describe as CHILL in one word. Again, Webster has not concocted the perfect adjective that will best describe my day! Stress is too prosaic! I want a word derived from gasoline incessantly being poured to belligerent flames.

On to my entry. 

While I was browsing the tv last night, I came across a 2003 year-old movie and nostalgia fell into place. The film brought back so much memories, not because I take joy in watching it numerous times when I was kid, but because I would give anything to exchange my age for a day. I must have been imbecilic to want to be older then. 13 going on 30 may be fiction, but I am pretty sure it was based on real teenagers’ desires, and I one of them.

Forget them all. Come with me where you’ll never, never have to worry about grown up things again.

If only that were possible, I would give up my right to be behind the wheel, the leisure of earning money at the end of the month just to be able to take pleasure in being out at night during summer and playing street games with neighbors. God, I miss being a kid. Being of legal age may have its advantages but such entail an even bigger amount of responsibility. Sometimes I just want to wake up each morning without having to worry if I was able to liquidate all our project’s expenses on time. JUST FOR A DAY.

Peter Pan also reminded me so much of young love, for some reason. It is sad that the youth of today (teenagers) have fallen short of what “love” is, or at least what it should feel like, other than sex. Should they even have an experience with it, to begin with?

Suddenly, I knew what I had to do. Love isn’t about ridiculous little words. Love is about grand gestures. Love is about airplanes pulling banners over stadiums, proposals on jumbo-trons, giant words in sky writing. Love is about going that extra mile even if it hurts, letting it all hang out there. Love is about finding courage inside of you that you didn’t even know was there. – Little Manhattan

When I was skyrocketing into my teenage years, I failed to take notice of the small details which later on became key patches of a tapestry called  MY life. I at times miss the thrill of young romance where the pursuit of someone would always mean being at your best and wishing that you can get a glimpse of his (in my POV) face even for just a second, and if you do see him, you will do whatever it takes for you not to be noticed that you are actually stealing a glint at his odd smile. Weird, but those are the sub-stories that make adolescence less painful.

I recall Jeremy Sumpter’s sudden jolt of excitement which sent him soaring into the heavens after getting a hidden kiss from Wendy. I cannot find any other image that best describes that feeling than what actually transpired in Peter Pan’s love episode. It may seem silly after a few years have gone by, but somehow you’d miss those childish feelings.

But then, even at the age of 24, I know all is not completely lost. That even at this stage, I can still allow myself to linger in those moments wherein I felt free, in love and unimaginably light- even when I am lost in the garbage of my desk called requirements. Bottom line is, somehow I temporarily set free of the child in me, when I should not have in the first place.

All children grow up, except one…

is not entirely true. We may grow up physically, but we must not allow our hearts to age. It is what keeps our love for life burning.

Chocolate: A Quick Pill for Devastation

“Chocolate” is a word that I can relate to at any season, time, and place. Even though I am taking it in moderation nowadays, I would still steal a moment or two to indulge a sinful passion. Especially during emergency situations!

The Introduction

Yesterday would have been one of my most grueling days at work. I found myself in a deluge of tears in a restaurant while talking to my boss. I am in a love/hate relationship with her ever since I stepped into the company and yesterday was our most heated session ever. I let out a few deleterious expressions of frustration and anger to counteract her bashing of words that seemed condescending to me.

It lasted a few hours of the morning until noon and after what seemed like an eternity of hell, I wanted to go home. It was my first time to work in an office after months of being behind high heat burners and convection ovens – yes, I am a Commis (or a cook, in more comprehensible terms.)

When I landed a Public Relations job at present, I was an Andy to a tamer Miranda. For the very reason that she was not wearing Prada and Miranda was a much more advanced superior whose attitude is incomparable to any boss in our country (or maybe there are some who wear her shoes, but thank God I have not met them yet.)

Feeling Blue

Another reason why I love Fridays -other than the fact that it’s the first step to the weekend!- is that it’s WASH DAY! You get to trade in your slacks and blazers for a laid-back casual jeans and tee. I recently went on an impulsive spree at a thrift shop near our house and bought shirts for days like these.