i want.

uh oh.

My Kitchen

After a year of living in the tiniest shoe box of an apartment in New York City, I vigorously searched the entire borough of Manhattan for the perfect apartment. After weeks of walking, cab fares, subway rides and just jumping from one brownstone to another, i found one. It was a traditional walk up apartment in the Upper West Side. Rent controlled, brick walls, hardwood floors and the cutest bay window overlooking central park. It was perfect. Except for the kitchen.

Mind you, all New Yorkers know that the the hardest things to find in the city are as follows, based on the degree of difficulty:

#3 - JOB
#2 - Boyfriend/Girlfriend/Relationship
#1 - A Perfect Apartment

And I turned down this apartment.

When I was a kid, i found myself seeking refuge in the kitchen. Nope, not pigging out. Well sometimes. But more of just hanging out in the kitchen. For overly depressing situations, I somewhat find comfort in the rhythmic humming of the fridge. It seems like it soothes my innermost sorrows. When I moved to the US, I spent most of my nights in the kitchen during the times when I felt so alone or when I miss my friends and family back in the Philippines. The kitchen was never a stranger to me. No matter where I go, I'd seem to find a good friend in anyone's kitchen. But not in this so called New York kitchen. And i just couldn't live there.

In my most recent move. I found it harder to get to know my current kitchen. It seems like it didn't accept me right away and vice versa. It seems unwilling to offer its usual welcome. Even the fridge didn't care to offer me it's soothing melody. It took some time.

But recently, I made peace with my new kitchen.

I cooked for the first time. I prepared breakfast. Nothing fancy, just eggs and toast and some turkey ham. But it was the most delightful breakfast. It was like finding a long lost friend. I was happy to finally reconnect.

But tonight, like all good friends, my kitchen was brutally honest with me. After a long day at work, stripped off my work clothes and slipped into my pj's, I was eating some leftovers beside my newly polished stove, my new kitchen reminded me that I wasn't home yet. That this wasn't my home. And I felt alone.

I know, its kind of melodramatic. But it did feel that way. I was looking at the dining table and remembered all the great meals that my mom and dad prepared for me and my brother. How we'd always (always!) get together every Sunday after Church to just get a recap of the week and update each other of our lives. Even when we had the simplest of all meals, it was always a an awesome time eating with the family.

It would be nice to come home to a place I can call home. Hopefully soon!

(and yes, i was totally posing in that pic!)

Magic & Meg Ryan

"it was a million tiny little things that, when you added them all up, they meant we were suppose to be together... and I knew it. I knew it the very first time I touched her. It was like coming home... only to no home I'd ever known... I was just taking her hand to help her out of a car and I knew. It was like... magic." - sleepless in seattle (1993)

it's real. it's out there. i still believe in it. i know it still exists. i've experienced the magic once and for a very long time, i've searched and waited. amidst the jaded and bitter years, i know in my heart that it will happen again.

im cheesy.

this morning i had brunch with my best friend Jun. we've been caught in this vicious cycle called life, that we haven't really been seeing much of each other lately. but we vowed to change that. thus we had brunch.

it doesn't hurt to believe and it isn't bad to hope. jun has always been on my case whenever i tell him that it would never work out. i am destined to be single. maybe i'm not built to be in a relationship. maybe i am the exception to the rule. as we were revisiting those dark years, we stumble upon what has been happening to me the past weeks. hoping upon hope that i could once again be happy.

and then, out of all the brunch places in Los Angeles, out of all the possible celebrity sightings, out of all the things that could possibly happen, Meg Ryan sat next to me at the restaurant.

Really Francis? Really?

"Do you want me to tell you something really subversive? Love is everything it's cracked up to be. That's why people are so cynical about it. It really is worth fighting for, being brave for, risking everything for. And the trouble is, if you don't risk anything, you risk even more."

- Erica Jong
American Author

www.textsfromlastnight.com

"When he came he sounded like a flock of birds hitting puberty"

"I wish you could buy pregnancy test at the liquor store, it's the only place I feel comfortable being a disgrace because I know they understand why it happened..."

"Stripper fight on main stage. It just happened. And it was glorious."

LMAO!

"Why are you single?"

I don't think that's even a valid question. Real questions should be answerable. That question just isn't. No one really knows why they are single. Well, unless they have body odor. I'm kidding. Even those with odor problems deserve to be with someone.

- prince of magic

Sorry this post isnt about you. No really.

i noticed its easier to write when I'm depressed. it's easier to write about heartaches and pain. its easier to write about failed relationships and lost hopes. i also noticed that people comment more on tear-jerker blog postings, not those tears of joy kind of tears but those painful emotional tear jerker posts that i used to have. well that was before i had my tear ducts shut permanently.

it got me thinking, are people getting more accustomed to being hurt than being happy? why is it that people relate more to sad stories than happy ones? is it getting harder and harder to be happy these days? and this is just the search for happiness in general. what about the happiness that relates to love? most of the comments that i get from readers are usually from these sad posts about love. i concur. i am not alone in this eternal search for love and happiness. i have my legions of followers that could attest to the harshness that love and hope has brought to the world.

sometimes the universe can be cruel. yet sometimes when you just totally detest how the universe has been taunting you all these years, it, all of a sudden, throws you a bone. would it hurt to try to accept happiness? i guess not.

i received an email the other day. someone asked me why i was starting to sound happy with my posts. am i getting soft? am i warming up? friends also noticed something different. maybe it's time to change. maybe there are certain reasons to feel good about myself. maybe there's a reason to be happy. maybe the universe has conspired to jumble the alignment of the stars a bit. maybe.

wait. maybe this post might be a little bit about you then. maybe.

speaking of awesomeness...

my best friend Leo...

Awesome Pinoy Kid!

I love cheese.

"Yes, right... arguing about cheese brings the relationship to a whole new level. No longer in the realm of wine or bread, or even cologne or clothes but cheese, dammit! And when you find that perfect cheese that you both enjoy, no matter how stinky, flaky, spongy, creamy, rancid, indespicably pungent it may be, you will savor every bit of it... because good cheese, like a good man, is not about being sweet or soft or easy to slice... it's about waking your senses with intoxicating smells and filling your mouth with tastes and textures that you'd keep coming back for more..."

Damn I don't look 28!

...walang hihirit!

Good things happen to those who wait...

Beautifully Imperfect

Father & Son Relationship

I've never been so enthusiastic about a site like this before. You have got to check this out. One of the best Father - Son stories ever.

Days with My Father

*sigh*

i miss my dad.