Haunted and Enchanted.

Who could forget the fictional high school dance wherein Marty McFly dated and parked in the car with her own mother, in the movie Back to the Future?

It was the Enchantment Under the Sea,  a high school dance that was held at Hill Valley High School  on Saturday night, November 12, 1955 in which Marty McFly's parents, George McFly and Lorraine Baines fell in love after their first kiss.

High school dance or prom is always enchanting, no matter how it's themed and called.  It's usually the party where a guy gets to wear his first formal coat and tie, and for the girl, her first formal long gown.

It's also the event where guys and gals first learn slow dancing.

No matter what time zone and what year it happens, high school dance and prom always remain an affair to remember.

But high school prom is not just the stuff teens remember all summer long and all their lives.

There's the "haunted part" of adolescence. That period in one's life in which watching horror movies on vacation nights adds gory and glory to growing up.

That's why Hollywood never ceases to come up with horror films: the Halloween, Friday the 13th,  the Scream series, the Saw, The Haunting, The Blair Witch Project, Nightmare on Elm Street, Poltergeist, The Ring, The Texas Chain Saw Massacre, The Shining, The Exorcist, and the old Dracula movies are just some of those memorable and haunting horror classics. 

Of course, telling scary stories make camping and sleep overs more fun, too, even for adults.

Wackiness 101.

I have no idea how "wacky" posing for group photos started. I think this latter days' "wackiness" is an "only in the Philippines," phenomenon. I maybe wrong.

My conjecture is it probably started in Ireland where the Halloween tradition started, and persisted until the Irish settled in the U.S.A.  When the camera was invented, people took pictures of their Halloween costumes and antics. 

In 2009 when my mother passed away and we were holed up in the funeral home, we were doing "wacky" poses in the privacy of the family room. It was an antidote to our sorrow.

Then I discovered that in all group photo sessions, serious would be followed by wackiness.

I don't have any standard wacky pose. In fact when someone shouts "wacky," I can only manage a "slit my throat" pose or fingers curled like a black bear ready to pounce on a prey.

When I review "wacky" pictures, I oftentimes see people just raising both their hands as if scaring someone off their newly cooked dish or freshly baked croissant.

Some would show their tongues out, others would put the "devil's" horn on top of their heads or on someone else's head, and lots would act as if they're being killed or choked.

Look at "facebook photos" your friends had posted and you'd see wackiness all around.

Even during religious retreats, people ask their priest or pastor to be wacky for a split second during photo ops.

Kids always love being wacky, and nowadays, they're like professionals when it comes to photo shoots, almost always posing with thumb and pointer fingers under their chins, the so-called "I'm cute" pose.

"Wacky" also shows people jumping up or pretending to jump.

Just cook it!

I love salad: veggie salad (greens),  potato salad, fruit salad, macaroni salad, coleslaw, seafood salad

and whatever I can put salad dressing on or simply vinaigrette or balsamic on.

I used to make a plate of crab meat loaded with cucumber and some Ranch dressing, and inhaled it in an instant.

When my doctor declared I was diabetic, I subsisted on greens, wheat bread and peanut butter, oatmeal, tuna and sardines with tomatoes and onions for lunch, and grilled and steamed fish with lots of ginger and of course, on fruits, and immediately brought down my blood sugar level to 5+.

I learned to make smoothie as well.

I always craved for the brown rice with red beans of the Jamaicans, and their chicken, too,  and the rice con pollo of the South Americans, and the panini and roasted pepper and mushrooms and eggplant parmigiana of the Italians, and filled my palate but always, in moderation.

My mix and match drinks always pleased me, and red wine was and is, my favourite.

Three years into sabbatical from cooking and I am beginning to miss my own kind of cooking. And the other things I did, like dancing and long walks in the park with the dog.






Long pauses, alas, can be tiring. 

A Long Pause.

I haven't posted since last year; the last entry was posted in the mid-days of December 2013.
It was a very long pause, indeed.

Pause is a temporary activity. Rest can be arbitrary, either awhile or permanent.

When we talk about rest, many things come to mind. Rest and recreation for one.

If you scan your facebook account, you'd notice friends and friends of friends posting photos from their vacations or long rest or for those in the IPO (call centers), their trip-incentives or group events are taken as respite from their monotonous work load.

Planning for a much needed rest sometimes leads to stress. Whether it's a local tour or overseas, scheduling for flight, accommodation and itinerary can be nerve-wracking and strenuous.

When I was regularly flying from Canada to P.I., I used to rotate booking my flights from several travel agencies. And lately, with just one agency, which was a stone's throw away from where I used to live.

On a long drive to the Big Apple from Canada, at the Rockefeller Center in Manhattan

Taking long drives within the East and West Coasts in the U.S., and in Canada was my preferred way of taking vacation. That way, I controlled my own pace and saw and appreciated places which were hidden in tour packages.

But of course, I also joined some group tours, especially out of U.S. and Canada.

Travelling locally and in East Asia, I find it better to book my own trip/s.  With the help of Internet resources, it's now a breeze to select cheap flights and accommodation, even "banca" trips in remote islands.

On a past trip to Singapore without help from travel agent

In the early eighties, I went on a trip to Mountain Province in the famous Rice Terraces and made a side trip to Sagada. Back then, the road leading to Bontoc and Sagada were so much treacherous than today, and the jeepney our group hired on a whim going to Sagada, thank God, proved sturdy enough for the gravel-paved mountain trek.

On a trip to Caramoan last Summer, I personally booked the beach front accommodation on the island, and relied on "customer reviews" and travel blogs for the intricacies of the vacation. And on a trip to Boracay, I did away with an expensive package which a sister took for her group, and instead, booked my own flight and hotel.

A Boracay trip arranged thru Internet

In my extended family, I have always been asked to take charge of arranging "get aways" for the whole clan. I don't complain.

So, if you're planning for a summer get away locally, consult the numerous travel blogs and book via the various booking engines.

For international vacations, I might just do what I am training myself to do: be my own travel agent.
For instance, a neighbour said it's cheaper to fly to Australia via Singapore.

Becoming one's travel agent maybe too much work, but if one can save hundreds of pesos or dollars, it would be worth the try.

Namamasko Po.

The Christmas celebration and preparation are all around the universe. Three more days and the Big Day will be here.

But like other years, the joy of anticipation has always been the best for me because on the actual day itself, the climax has become anti-climactic.

Like a movie that's been over-hyped through promotion, Christmas Day's real story has been buried beneath the pile of unnecessary spiels.

To experience the true feel of Christmas, I always embark on a journey of the past Christmases of my childhood. Childhood memories, like the taste of one's first imported chocolate always feels authentic and real even after so many years.

I pine for the years when Christmas carollers were plain neighbourhood kids who didn't have to give advance notices to the residents just to serenade them. All they did was pull up their pants, pick up their musical instrument fashioned out of flattened soda caps and bravely but innocently belted out "namamasko ko po," message to the houses within their territory.

I long for the scent of "pinipig," (light rice flakes) and the Filipino hot chocolate drink, "cacao"  from Batangas,  laced with ground peanuts and drank straight from "espresso" little cups.

I especially wish for my mother who never failed to hang her freshly ironed window curtains and laid out her special China collection on the dinner table for the family's traditional Noche Buena and Media Noche meals.

My mother's Christmas Tree and Lantern had always kept the whole brood reminded even today of the Star of Bethlehem, the light that shone for the Birth of the Messiah - Our Saviour.

Missing the Gross.

I have not seen any gross movies lately. By gross, I mean blood spurting out of stomachs, body holes punched out by bullets, noses bloodied by punches, bones cracked by karate kicks, and so on.

I have relegated myself to being square and bored. When I pass by the cinema at the mall, I only take a cursory look at the faces of the actors plastered in posters. Sometimes, my eyes could not avoid the movie ads lined up along the escalator route.

What happened? I used to enjoy the "Kill Bill series," The Transformers, The Die Hards, the extra terrestrials, the T-rex's.

I simply looked at other things. The spiritual, basically.

But did it pay off? Was being more God-centered rewarding?

I remember suddenly Shirley McClaine and her "Out on a Limb" book, and Madonna and her "Kaballah" experience, and the lighted faces of inspirational speakers.

I am tasked now with building a group who'd become presenters and facilitators. Big job.

It's painful, sometimes. Takes a lot of time. No pittance. No thank you.

Who is it for? Take a guess.

People who transform themselves spiritually say it's for the Higher Being. But deep within and basically, it's for oneself.

We want that inner peace, that outer glow, that ultimate high.

But the real transformation overtakes the selfish self.

Halloween.

We came as a Pirate in our group's last Halloween Party. The shirt was a sturdy, long-sleeved cotton branded Papillon and the pair of pants was a striped, brown semi-loose. Then, we found a package of pirate headress, eye patch and an earing at the Metro in the BGC area.

Whoa.

Pirate of the Carribean.

In the Business District of Makati, there was a Zombie Fun Run.

In Canada at same time of the year, kids and adults would have donned their Halloween best costume and went door to door for the traditional TRICK OR TREAT.

Halloween is a big street or neighbourhood party in North America. In malls and groceries, candies are packed in bundles and people grab them to give out as treats. Day after Oct. 30th, these same bags sell for much, much less.

Manila has just picked up on this Irish North American tradition. And hopefully there'd be no criminal activities such as spiking candies with blades or bad elements making the bizarre and weird for real.

Two days after Halloween is the traditional Philippine remembrance of the dead. All Saints Day and All Souls Day are celebrated nationally by offering flowers and candles at graveyards of dead relatives.

Nowadays, this unique Philippine tradition of honouring the departed ones has calmed down from the heydays of "karaoke singing," drinking and partying at the graveyard to a more sombre tone of prayers and family reunions.

While upscale families opt to buy and live in condominium buildings, only those with less resources choose to inter their departed ones in the so-called "apartment-style" gravesites, pictured below.

Apartment-style graveyard are the cheaper alternatives to individual and gated graves.