Boracay Island - Paradise Indeed!

Boracay is truly a paradise island. Believe me. But before I write about my Boracay adventure, let me show you things I learned in Boracay.

1. The Hobbit's House actually exists in Boracay.





2. That you can wear elevator shoes in Boracay.



3. That when swimming in Boracay, infants should wear diapers.






4. That it's okey to go naked all the way in Boracay. Had I known...tsk tsk tsk



5. That when you fail to use your brain and you fell from the boat and was wet all over, you can strip yourself half-naked in the bus and can hang your wet clothes at the back of your seat to dry.





6. That when one leaves Boracay, the backpack should wear a seatbelt.

Let Me Come Home

I stood in the rain feeling each droplet against my skin. The wind took the liberty to dishevel my hair while the occassional moaning of sleeping horses fill the air. My bare feet was numb from the cold as I walked slowly around underneath the intimidating darkness and the threatening storm. My pajama was splattered with mud as the swing rocks silently in the wind. This scene, it's immortal. My days are numbered and I am counting them.

The thought of leaving brought me home. My body no longer shivers from the darkness and the cold but the from the chilly realization that I am missing home. I missed my family. I missed my Mama and our disagreements. I missed my 3 brothers. I missed my bed even it drips when it rains outside. I missed everything about home.

But I am not coming back. Not yet...

I need to move on into the next island-destination said to be a paradise...

"Home"
By: Michael Buble


Another summer day
Has come and gone away
In Paris and Rome
But I wanna go home
Mmmmmmmm

Maybe surrounded by
A million people I
Still feel all alone
I just wanna go home
Oh, I miss you, you know

And I’ve been keeping all the letters that I wrote to you
Each one a line or two
“I’m fine baby, how are you?”
Well I would send them but I know that it’s just not enough
My words were cold and flat
And you deserve more than that

Another aeroplane
Another sunny place
I’m lucky I know
But I wanna go home
Mmmm, I’ve got to go home

Let me go home
I’m just too far from where you are
I wanna come home

And I feel just like I’m living someone else’s life
It’s like I just stepped outside
When everything was going right
And I know just why you could not
Come along with me
'Cause this was not your dream
But you always believed in me

Another winter day has come
And gone away
In even Paris and Rome
And I wanna go home
Let me go home

And I’m surrounded by
A million people I
Still feel all alone
Oh, let me go home
Oh, I miss you, you know

Let me go home
I’ve had my run
Baby, I’m done
I gotta go home
Let me go home
It will all be all right
I’ll be home tonight
I’m coming back home

What Exactly Is A Bohemian?

I almost forgot how to breath when I saw a book in Powerbooks. The early part of the day made me depressed. The traffic jam was so terrible that we made an instantaneous u-turn and head for the mall instead of the beach. The farm boys I was with were harrassed by the Bibo! guard for looking like a "farm boy" in supposedly class A(?) playground. My companion lost her wits and name-dropped the franchisee owner of the establishment who happened to be her friend and the guard cowered like a lamb showering us with apology.

The food tasted bland and my head aches from too much noise and hypocrisy, duplicity and madness without cause. Then I found Bohemian Manifesto by Laren Stover. I thought I died when I saw the 4 digit price of the book! Grrr!!! So I sit comfortably in the sofa and read until the bookstore announced that they are closing and would I please go out. Hahahaha!!! Believe me, I read the book from cover to cover because I can't afford it. It speak so much of me that when I went out of the bookstore my depression is gone but my heart broken from the thought that the book won't sleep with me in my bed even for just a night.

DEFINING BOHEMIA
A DIAGNOSIS

"Who am I? I'm a poet. My business? Writing.
How do I live? I live.
In my happy poverty I squander like a prince,
my poems and songs of love.
In hopes and dreams and castles-in-air,
I'm a millionaire in spirit."

—Rodolfo, La Bohème

So, what exactly is a Bohemian? Technically, a Bohemian is a person hailing from that province of the Czech Republic or a gypsy type leading a vagabond life reading palms and tarot cards and playing strange music around the campfire with a dancing bear. The Bohemia of this book is about living beyond convention. Bohemia is an atmosphere, a way of life, a state of mind. Henry Murger, who wrote about himself and all his starving-artist friends, put the word Bohemian into mainstream language in 1849 when his play La Vie de Bohème went up in Paris. He gave a label to the eccentric and socially unorthodox. Poets, painters, absinthe drinkers, dandies on the fringe—any oddball qualified.

Bohemian living or consciousness, if you will, has always been provocative. There's just something about the freedom, recklessness, scandal, artistic vision and spiritual splendor that makes it tantalizingly worthy of membership. Bohemianism is not a trend, it's a timeless movement, a way of life both fleeting and enduring that reappears every now and then as a backlash against our bourgeois, mass market, easy access culture. Bohemianism doesn't always steal the headlines. Bohemianism may be big and shocking but it may also be personal and subterranean, with quiet defiances. Bohemianism slips into our bedroom and makes a personal appearance in our dreams, sits next to us while we're in a car and whispers detours, Bohemianism is the stranger pouring stars and galaxies into our morning beverage while we watch the cat lick its paws, and it's the compulsion we have to pick up a piece of paper on the street and promise ourselves that what's written on it will be the first sentence of our next novel or the name of the yoga center or bar we're opening. Bohemianism is more than an attitude. It's the apolitical freedom of ideas, clothing and behaviors gently outside the norm. It's an elixir of undisclosed ingredients, a strange, bootleg perfume, it's the psychic, globally warmed truth serum the government wants to ban, it's the holy water of the unconscious mind, and once anointed, the underground gold mine of ideas blossoms and bleeds into the open air without self-consciousness, without reproach, without judgment.

Bohemians defy exact definition because they are essentially errant spirits. Bohemians are society's outlaws—mavericks, vagabonds, mad scientists, gypsies, theater people, artists, deviants, radicals, outsiders. They are, in essence, all one clan.
Bohemians transform, mutating and evolving from Dandy to Beat to Flower Child per the prevailing zeitgeist.

You know them when you see them:

She wears velvet in the rain.

He dances with pigeons and does magic tricks in the bookstore cafe.

They walk from Nice to Florence and have a child named Sienna.

They drive a school bus, despite the parking challenges . . . and eat porridge while drinking Languedoc.

They wear contrarianism more liberally than ordinary mortals wear polyester.

You see them selling hand-knit hats to tourists on the streets of SoHo, heading to Veselka coffee shop in the East Village at noon for a morning coffee, wearing Value Village as if it were Yohji Yamamoto, reading Gertrude Stein, dressed like George Sand at cafés in the Butte aux Cailles, safe from tourist buses since it's in the thirteenth arrondissement, listening to jazz at Les Instants Chavirés in Paris, hiking in a fedora in Katmandu, doing performance art in Williamsburg, moving into a new space in the Tenderloin district in San Francisco because they find North Beach too cliché, on their third pint at a tavern talking about the creation of the universe and the six months they spent in the rain forest and the miracle drug they found growing at the roots of a particular type of tree and by the way it gets you high, sipping free wine in plastic cups at art galleries as artist, collector and muse, reading poetry in bookstores in Berlin, modeling for nude photographs in a cemetery in Prague and scavenging junk shops by bus for vintage furniture later sold to antique dealers to keep themselves in absinthe.

Bohemians may get on your nerves, but even when they appear to be idle, down-and-out, opinionated Slackers, they're stirring things up. Bohemians are the ultimate elitists. They want to run things. They break the rules, set the trends, knit the knits, destroy the art and reinvent the art that everyone wants, or will want. Bohemians start movements. Bohemians change thinking. Bohemians stay up all night talking, and sometimes they write manifestos. Bohemians cross cultures and integrate mantras, philosophies, substances and clothing seamlessly into everyday life. Bohemians tenderly and violently create new work and change paradigms. Bohemians change the world.

Copyright © 2004 by Laren Stover

Gosh! More about this book when I'll get cash!

A Rose That Is Vanessa

She was a seatmate in 6th grade. Before that I never know what we were. All I know is that after we became seatmates, she has always been there for me...

She was there in almost all the major blows I encountered. She reminds me of the poem "Footprints On The Sand". Not that I equate her with God. It's just that during the most turbulent periods in my life where life was brutally unfair, she was there. Always. On the contrary, I was never there for her when she needed me. I was always the late-comer. I always arrived when the storm in her life has passed.

She cried as much as I did in the summer of '92. We never spoke about my pain but I know she felt it each time I browse our family album and saw her picture with ultra-red eyes from too much crying. She was there but I never realized it then.

For me, our friendship started when an astounding blow hit me one day. I was as shock as everyone else that nobody dared to talk to me and I never uttered a single word to anyone. I head for the convent ( a place nearby we used as a play ground) wishing to be alone but she followed. We sat meters apart without uttering a single word for a long time until she moved closer, put her hands on my shoulder and make me lean on hers. I sobbed while she cried. Words were useless. She was there and I will always cherish that moment.

Many blows after that and she was always there. While I never knew her own struggles I think she made it her business to know mine. And she'd arrive at the most opportune time. More than a year ago, she held my hand gently as we walked towards the restaurant when the news of my latest blow came in. Then a realization hit me, how come she is always there for me? We talked until dawn as I tried to appear strong and unaffected about the bad news. In the morning, she knocked at our hotel room with a bag full of dvd copy of movies that would interest me. She made me promise to watch those movies. I guess she sensed that depression will set in the next few days and those movies are good tactical diversion.

My heart is overflowing with gratitude to someone who sent me Vanessa. I always said that the greatest gift I received in this lifetime is my family and friends. And Vanessa is one of the best gifts I ever had in my life. I am lucky. But I don't know if she is as lucky as I am.

Happy birthday, Friend. Please allow me to publish this tribute to you to honor you and the friendship we both hold sacred. Sorry if you have to travel overseas just to be with me on my own birthday two weeks from now in one of the world's most beautiful island. See you soon.

SOMEDAY
By: Sugar Ray

Someday
When my life has passed me by
I'll lay around and wonder why you were always there for me
One way
In the eyes of a passerby
I'll look around for another try
And'll fade away

[Chorus]

Just close your eyes and I'll take you there
This place is war without a care
We'll take a swim in the deep blue sea
I go to leave as you reach for me
Some say
Better things will come our way
No matter what they try to say you were always there for me
Someway
When the sun begins to shine
I hear a song from another time
And'll fade away
And'll fade away

[Chorus]

So far, so long, so far away
So far, so long, so far away (away, away)
Someday
When my life has passed me by
I'll lay around and wonder why you were always there for me
One way
In the eyes of a passerby
I'll look around for another try
And'll fade away
And'll fade away
And'll fade away
And'll fade away
And'll fade away
And'll fade away
(someday)
And'll fade away

Happy Hearts

Thank you

- for never doubting my motives and intentions

- for understanding my fears

- for tolerating my stupidity and idiosyncracies

- for never giving up on me

- for giving me space when I needed it

- for respecting my privacy and holding it almost in sanctity

- for seeing me in your future

- for making me a part of you


Thank you for making my heart happy.

Pre-Valentine Treat

MORNING

I was watching a movie from a very big tv screen in the waiting lounge of a hospital's laboratory when a man I almost hated sat at the bench next to where I was. It was such a hard work containing my patience because my feet were screaming to kick his butt in public. I put on a very straight face and thought 'vengeance has it's own time'. My day started badly.

AFTERNOON

I roamed around the National Bookstore trying to kill the time while waiting for the result of the lab tests. I found it rather funny because the month's bestseller is El Amor En Los Tiempos Del Colera ( Love In The Time of Cholera) a book authored by my best drinking buddy Gabriel Garcia Marquez. This book was published in 1988 and the copy I have is a First Vintage International Edition dated October 2003. On how it became a National Bookstore bestseller 10 years after it was first published is puzzling. This book was even featured in the movie Serendipity, remember? It breaks my heart to know that even in literature, the Philippines is a decade or so behind.

My affair with Gabriel Garcia Marquez first began in One Hundred Years of Solitude. Being an unnatural extrovert, I picked up the book because the word "solitude" appeals to me. The phrase "100 years" was even more appealing that I was convinced I'd spend the next 100 years of my life in hell and another hundred in purgatory if I fail to read the book. Then his autobiography followed after which I committed myself fully in the disposal of Gabriel Garcia Marquez as long as I live. Cholera or no cholera.

EVENING

I was on a rush trying to avoid the people who went mad over the next day's affair. I boarded a taxi and for the first time in my life seated beside the driver who only slowed down as I entered the cab. I was drenched in rain and as soon as I finished wiping myself a fast moving pick up overtook us, made a sudden halting screech and our cab kissed its bumper all broken and cracked. The drunk driver of the pick up went out and hurled expletives at my driver. I went out amidst the rain, checked myself intact and complete, hailed another taxi and wondered how my day will end.

TWILIGHT

I found myself in a vacated open field. The quarter moon was showing and the stars were twinkling gorgeously. Up at the back of (another) pick up truck were lively strumming of country folk songs in guitar. Cowboy hats and mud boots were scattered all over, the horses gallopping freely in the muddy race tracks, the air was cold and beneath us were the city lights in all its grandeur and magnificence.

When the cold was no longer bearable, everyone left except me and three others. Our adrenaline were still rushing like fools that we ended in race track trying to hurdle the obstacle using not horses but a beast called pajero. We rode through the mud, negotiated blind curves at devil's speed our shouting and screaming heard by no one but the crickets. The joy and excitement in our faces seen only by the quarter moon.

The memory is lovely. And I want the world to know.

Yami Decides To Die

I woke up feeling a familiar pain. My mind rushed in panic as I lay on my back afraid to increase my suffering by any slight movement. My head was throbbing maniacally in pain, my stomach felt hollow making me nauseaus and my spinal column is numb and unfeeling.

I stared at the ceiling silently and for a moment was disoriented trying to recall where I was. The dim light from the lamp shade at the corner of the room brought me to full consciousness. I'm still in my friend's farm communing with horses and their dung, full moons and fresh air, enjoying the silence, latin music and my solitude.

I reached for the phone beside me realizing in horror that I needed help but changed my mind when my hand was in mid-air. It was such a bad idea to raise the alarm at three in the morning. Few hours to dawn... I could last that long...

Unmoving, I went back to staring at the ceiling. The last time I felt the pain was a litte less than a decade ago. Severe headache, nausea and vomiting, double vision, paralysis on one side of my face and good deal many others I can't now exactly recall. When my CT Scan and MRI's result came in, the doctors found a tumor somewhere in my pretty head and decided for a surgery that lasted more than seven hours. My family and my best friend were in my bedside and we celebrated Christmas together in my hospital room with my head wrapped in bandage as if it was God's gift to my family and my arm attached to a tube through a needle inserted in my vein as if trying to reassure my family that I was not going anywhere.

Our Christmas in 1998 was both merry and hopeful. While I got to get a new lease on life, our family overcame yet another major blow. Five years earlier, my father suddenly died of heart attack and our loss was too big it seemed there was no way of letting go. The void was just too big to fill. Imagine my family's anxiety and fear when another member's life is threatened. I cannot fully account how we faced our angers and fears during that time. But individually, it made us better and stronger persons. Collectively, it strengthened the tie that binds us as a family. Spiritually, God became our pillar, our strength, our hope.

After the surgery, my life changed drastically. The surgery left me handicapped for the rest of my life (although, my impairment is not obvious, in fact only my family knows about it and some of my closest friends suspect it!), my movements and activity were limited, my diet is restricted plus, I needed to get my monthly lifetime shots of Penador to keep my heart from being invaded by bacteria. I was diagnosed with RHD when I was 18.

For years I lived a boring patient's life until the day I decided to live my life the way I wanted to. First, I stopped my monthly injections. I enrolled in a gym, lifted weights, climbed mountains and walls, swim, snorkel and dive. I ate with gusto in every fine dining restaurants I can afford, I lined in fast foods and ate in sidewalks. I drink every single drop of edible liquids hard or soft. I attended at least 5 colleges and universities that sometimes I'd think these schools will fight on who got the claim as my Alma Mater should I become as accomplished as Hilary Clinton or as successful as Frank McCourt! Hahahahaha! As if my time is running out, I juggled two different jobs while I attended law school at night. I was suicidal. I am free. I am alive.

I realized that part of being alive is to defy the law of gravity, to ignore the law of supply and demand, to forget the norms. My life started when I pursue happiness. In the pursuit of happiness, my heart takes the lead role, not science, not culture, not social norms.

My symptoms are back after a little less than a decade since it disappeared. This time it's worse. I tended to confuse faces with names, I slur frequently than before, my right hands shakes involuntarily from time to time. All these I noticed as I lay on my back feeling the severe pain on my head. In the dark, I crawled in search of my medicines. I sighed as I gulped it and realized I haven't been taking meds for years now.

As soon as my meds were doing its work, I felt my strength draining out of me. In the last moments that I was awake, I smiled and said to myself: "As soon as the dawn is over, I'll make myself a steamy and creamy coffee and read the day's newspapers with latin music playing...."

About the title? I really decided to die - 100 years from now. Between now and the last day of the one hundred years? My good friend up above will make the decision for me. If He can't make up His mind after 100 years from now, I'll take the matter in my hands. Good deal.

Today is Our Lady of Lourdes Feast Day. I couldn't thank Her good enough for keeping my health well all these years.

Friends And Friendship

My neighboring table at an uptown coffee shop was noisy. I looked up impatiently from the source of the noise and saw a group of middle-aged women greeting each other like they haven't seen each other for millions of years. When my companion stood up to join the noisy group she told me that they were her high school classmates. I put down the copy of the contract we were discussing and looked at them in envy.

I remembered my own set of high school friends. Like us, they must have been unruly and restless. Each one must have their share of pain and glory in varying degree and intensity. Their dignified looks and refined manners must have been the product of life’s greatest lesson they experienced in the last 30 years or so of their lives.

The hugs and kisses were a prelude for a discussion galore that took place as soon as everyone was settled in their seats.And so it goes that I took the occupation of an eavesdropper! I smiled as someone makes a funny remark or shook my head when everyone started comparing their accessories, dresses and bags! I almost joined them when they started commenting on the newspaper article! The second time they hugged and kissed ended their session and each one headed towards the door and into their cars.

I was left recalling my own teenage years and wondering what I will be in the next 30 years or so. Charles Dickens' " it was the best of times, it was the worst of times" couldn't be more than appropriate in describing a teenage life. That despite the raging hormones, identity crises, family feuds and peer pressures, friends and friendship survives. Nobody may have survived unscathed and unhurt but each survivor relied heavily on the strength of friendship, strength strong enough to make them through the next arena of life.

There was a time when silence was all we could ever afford to offer each other. We become by-standers and spectators as the life of our friends unfold. The friendship took the back seat when priorities where sorted out: universities, careers, lovers, new friends, family. Does the embers of a burning friendship finally turned into cold ashes? No, it is still there in bright flaming red....waiting...ready...burning...

It did burn...again. Suddenly, everyone came running at the faintest sound of a distress call. Calls were made on special occassions, visits were done unannounced, wines are poured for no reason at all. What power is strong enough to destroy a good friendship? None.

I imagined us to be like those middle-aged women sitting in the the table next to me. Someday, when all our hairs are white (or dyed black), we will meet somewhere for coffee, dinner, party and God-knows-what, our friendship stronger more than before. We may never be able to dignify our looks or refine our manners, but our bond of friendship is solid and untouchable.

This is my first blog of the year. And I would like to offer it to a very good friend who is the first to reach the most dreaded 32nd year of our life. Happy birthday, Aileen! You are now out of the calendar and into the game of bingo! Enjoy it and don't worry. I am very close behind.

Loans, Anyone?

Getting a loan to get a new car or start that long over due home improvement could be hard. However, if you have a good credit standing, getting an unsecured loan is as easy as one, two, three. Unsecured loan are loans that does not need any collateral since approvals are mostly based on the decent credit standing of the borrower.

Homeowner loans are also available to those homeowners who have a not-so-very-good credit ratings. These secured loans are as effective as they are affordable.

So whether the loan is for a new car or to consolidate debts or to finally make that home improvement, finding a cheap loan that will not put you in debt should be the first consideration.

THIS POST IS SPONSORED

Trillanes And His Misadventures

I was so engrossed with CNN’s Republican Debate yesterday when I missed the start of a national “situation” happening right before my backyard. I felt anger and frustrations as I saw Trillanes marching through the streets of Makati. I asked myself, “What now this time?”

This country had seen so much of these “recurrent situations” since the beginning of the millenium that a penniless citizen like me gets the hardest blow each time the opposition suddenly decides to oust a sitting president or a military adveturist like Trillanes loses his patience. It was good that the investors never took seriously the recent adventures of Trillanes and the peso even emerged stronger when the trading closed yesterday.

MESSIANIC COMPLEX + SPOILED BRAT = TRILLANES

He was like a spoiled brat who cries and whimpers each time his demands are not met. His utter disregard to respect the rule of law betrays the 11 million voters that gave him a mandate to occupy a public office. Whatever happened to the man who months ago took an oath to uphold the rule of law and protect and defend the Constitution? Does the oath gave him the power or right to barged into someone’s hotel and act as if he owned it each time he lost grip of his patience? How can a soldier like him be overwhelmed by his emotions and endanger the national economy? How can a man of uniform like him whose sworn duty is to protect the national security threaten it?

Trillanes may have a legitimate grievance towards the present administration but his messianic complex is unconsciously making him the very person he hated. His paranoia to save this country from poverty, injustice, corruption and God-knows-what has constantly dragged this country’s economy downwards because of the inappropriate means he employed. Senator, not all problems can be solved by using some muscles or brandishing some firearms. Don’t you get it? We want some reforms but your proposal is just not acceptable.

When Trillanes took his oath, I told my friend I am giving Trillanes 6 years to prove me wrong for not voting for him. So far, this Trillanes is proving me right.

I hope the next time Trillanes venture into adventures he will not drag this country down with him. Oh, spare us.

A Christmas Cheer!

It’s a month and a day away from Christmas! After the Halloween, it’s now the Thanksgiving, and before you know it, you’ll be stuffing stockings of different sizes. Let CouponChief take care of your Christmas lists!

While my own list is not very long, using CouponChief is the answer to my unwillingness to go out and shop. My bestfriend Leah could use best deal magazine coupons where she could subscribe to a magazine of her choice all throughout the year. Best deal magazine offers a wide variety of magazine choices, I’m sure she will have a hard time choosing what to subscribe with. And my Kuya could use an old navy coupon for a pair of old navy jeans.

While Christmas is just around the corner, let promo codes have your worries and celebrate the holidays with a cheer!

Gluttons And Politics

Nothing significant happened today, that is, so far. Except for an email sent to me through our YahooGroup by a classmate way back from elementary. In her email she asked,

"Did you run? Do you have plans of running for office? I think you should, I know you'll do a good job...or you can't just stomach politics' dirty ways.."

I laughed while reading her letter. While I qualify to run for public office, having met the requirements of age and registration (the only requirements, would you believe?), I lack the talent to kiss somebody's ass. Politics, Filipino-style,is about kissing asses. One endangers himself by becoming an "outcast" if he insist on doing the right thing. Its either you are for them or you are against them. Remember, no man is an island. If you don't kiss somebody's ass then you kiss your own ass if you ever want to occupy a public office.

In a country where most of the political leaders lack the moral ascendancy to govern (I'm not meaning GMA - I am her avid supporter), I told her, I'll never dip my fingers in politics. I will leave the gluttons to their sorry selves.

Garage Flooring

In what state is your garage floor? Beat up, cracked and oil stained? Car Guy Garage has tiles to cover that floor and give you any pattern you can imagine giving your home a whole new look! A diamond garage flooring is enough to make your neighbor’s eyes to popped out in envy! Although, I prefer my garage in pink!

If you have newer concrete floors, protecting it and cleaning it is made easy by professional grade epoxy. You wouldn't ask for more.

Whatever your garage flooring now and whatever you would like it to be, despair no more.

THIS POST IS SPONSORED.

Non Je Ne Regrette Rien

Yesterday I was listening to Yahoo Music when Le Vie En Rose was played. I am familiar with the song since it was played in our house when I was a kid on a weekend basis. I think it was one of my father’s favorite instrumental song. Yesterday, it was played with a lyrics on it. I already knew it was sung my Edith Piaf because I have seen the movie La Mome last September during the European Film Festival in Cebu City.

La Mome is a movie about the tragic life of one of France’s most beloved singer, Edith Piaf. She lived a very extraordinary life, loved intensely, stood up after each fall and faced life drawing strength from each of her songs. Her song Non Je Ne Regrette Rien (No, I Regret Nothing) was played at the end part of the movie, and believe me, everyone in the movie house was crying.

Although she lived a questionable lifestyle, her devotion to St. Therese of Lisieux, who cured her of her blindness when she was a child, was very strong. She was an irony herself. I bet, when she learned that the Archbishop of Paris refused to give her a funeral mass, she would still sing Non Je Ne Regrette Rien.

Travel In Luxury

When traveling, finding a place to stay is not as easy as finding a seat on a plane, bus or boat, specially if one is on a very limited budget. Although, each travel is a very enriching experience, the damage it can do to one’s pocket can be substantial.

At Hotel Reservations, finding a place to stay can be as easy as clicking a mouse. Whether you want a villa in the Caribbean or a room in Shangrila, Hotel Reservations can get it for you in just a few clicks. The difficulty of finding a place to stay in any part of the world with prices which are considerably lower if compared to other online reservations is now history. In fact, Hotel Reservations guarantees that it has the lowest Special Internet Rates online and that if there is a lower rate available for the same dates and the same hotel either they match the lower rate or cancel the reservation without a cancellation fee. Isn't it great?

After each travel a wise person would always feel an inch or two taller with experience. Lessons learned somewhere along the way has a lasting effect than the beautiful panoramic views each place has to offer. More than the pictures taken or the foods eaten, it’s the story behind the faces I met that interests me. It is the struggle of the hands I shook with that leaves a print of wonder and respect on my mind. Each travel is a new opportunity not only to discover the world but to discover one’s self. Indeed, the only real voyage of discovery consists not in seeking new landscapes, but in having new eyes.

If there is one advise I can give to a friend, I’d say, travel in every little opportunity that you can. The luxury of experience each travel can offer is as memorable as the first kiss or the first date that no amount of money can afford it. You are a better person as soon as it’s done. Tara na! Sakay na

THIS POST IS SPONSORED.

Law Of Inertia

Every time I am in between two opposing forces of equal strength I always find justification of my action or lack thereof in Isaac Newton’s Law of Inertia. When I can go neither right nor left, I lay still – static.



Recently, a friend asked me to tell her husband that she wanted to end their marriage anytime soon. Whoa! It was such a difficult task! I was not able to deliver the bad news when I met the emotional husband unwilling to let go of his marriage. His own lamentations were enough to keep me from uttering a single word. When he asked me to deliver a message to his wife that he doesn’t mind if there is another man as long as their kids will be treated well by the new guy, I decided to keep my mouth shut. Not a single word reached the other side. I left them as they are.

They are the two opposing forces of equal strength I am talking about. In a situation like this, where should a good friend stand? In the middle? But I don't want to blow into pieces when love and hate collide! I don't want to take sides either. I don’t really have a choice, do I?

I thank Sir Isaac Newton for discovering the Law of Inertia. I hope no crazy congress will ever introduce an amendment to it.

I, Me and Myself

What Yami Means

Y is for Young A is for Artistic M is for Misunderstood I is for Insane

What Does Your Name Mean?

You May Be a Bit Antisocial...

Antisocial? That may be a bit of an understatement. You think rules are meant to be broken - and with gusto! Having no fear, you don't even think about consequences. But people love you anyway... you've got a boatload of charm.

What Personality Disorder Are You?

In a Past Life...

You Were: An Insane Sailor. Where You Lived: Burma. How You Died: Consumption.

Who Were You In a Past Life?

Your Travel Personality Is: The Adventurer

For you, travel is how you learn about the world. And you like to learn the stuff that's not in guidebooks. You truly have wanderlust. When you're not traveling, you're dreaming about where you'll go next. And your travels are truly legendary - they leave you with stories you'll be telling for the rest of your life!

What's Your Travel Personality?

Your Personality is Very Rare (INTJ)

Your personality type is logical, uncompromising, independent, and nonconformist. Only about 3% of all people have your personality, including 2% of all women and 4% of all men. You are Introverted, Intuitive, Thinking, and Judging.

How Rare Is Your Personality?

You Are a Plain Ole Cup of Joe

But don't think plain - instead think, uncomplicated You're a low maintenance kind of girl... who can hang with the guys Down to earth, easy going, and fun! Yup, that's you: the friend everyone invites. And you're dependable too. Both for a laugh and a sympathetic ear.

What Kind of Coffee Girl Are You?

Your Life is Rated PG-13

Your life isn't totally scandalous, but you definitely don't shy away from adult themes!

What is Your Life Rated?

You Go For Brains!

You want a guy with a big... brain. And of course it would be nice if he were a total hottie, but you're not counting on it. What's on the inside is what counts for you. (Besides, you can always change the outside later!)

Do You Go For A Guy's Brains or Body?

You Should Be a Joke Writer

You're totally hilarious, and you can find the humor in any situation. Whether you're spouting off zingers, comebacks, or jokes about life... You usually can keep a crowd laughing, and you have plenty of material. You have the makings of a great comedian - or comedic writer.

What Type of Writer Should You Be?

What Your Handwriting Says About You

You are a fairly energetic person. You know how to pace yourself, and you deal well with stress. You are somewhat outgoing, but you're not a natural extrovert. You think first before you act. You tend to be independent, rational, and logical. You are balanced and grounded. You know how to get along well with others. You need a bit of space in your life, but you're not a recluse. You expect people to give you a small amount of privacy, and you respect their privacy as well. You are somewhat traditional, but you are also open to change. You listen to your head and your heart. You are a decent communicator. You eventually get your point across, but sometimes you leave things a bit ambiguous.

What Does Your Handwriting Say About You?

My Life As A Blogger So Far

Days ago I received a comment from one of my entries that says:

Dear Bohemian Backpacker,

Paulo Coelho got wind of your blog through aart hilal and wants to post this article on his blog. Paulo Coelho’s blog
In case you have any restrictions, do not hesitate to write me on my email : valentinawol@gmail.com
Have a wonderful day!
And here's a quote to ponder:
A warrior of the Light does not rely on strength alone; he makes use of his opponent's energy, too.
(Manual of the Warrior of Light)
Paulo Coelho

Valentina

My initial reaction was, of course, ecstatic. Such chance of appearing in one of my most admired author's blogs was more than I could hope for. I never sent an email to Valentina thinking that my silence maybe and can be interpreted as a "yes". Anyway, I will always remain a visitor on Paulo's blog.

Today, as I click Paulo Coelho’s blog, imagine my shock when I saw 5 Top Personal Destinations by The Bohemian Backpacker in Paulo Coelho’s blog! I thought I ceased breathing for a moment! Was I starstrucked? Oh, yeah! I think I was!

I know this isn't a big deal but I really can't help it if it means so much to me. I just want that Camino walk to start right away! Hahahahaha!!!

In all my days as a blogger, this is by far the best day of them all!

Yabadobado!

Living A Life

Over-sized shirt, loose jammies, crumpled hair, chaotic bed, hot-steaming coffee, barefoot, cold wind from the bay and a rising sun! I love it in the morning!

It is during these times when I never for a moment missed my fast-paced life in the city. In the city where every second counts, watching the rising sun is an annual event or an unhurried sip of coffee costs a price enough to feed a family of 5.

Anyway, it’s Ben’s birthday today. Our friendship dates back from the Jurassic Era, survived the New Millenium and hopefully would witness the next Armageddon or perhaps the Second Coming. Bwahahahaha!!!

He is one of the very few persons coming from the “male species” whom I find very intelligent and smart. He is an honest critique, very generous with appreciations and a good motivator.

When he relocated to Manila a couple of years ago, I lost the physical presence of a friend who would pick me up and bring me home intact after a prolonged drinking sessions. After he left, nobody knocks on my door in the middle of the night with a bottle of tequila and a bag full of junk foods, wearing a silly grin suggesting a heartbreak or a turbulent break up. In his absence, I miss the tequila sessions, the 5am lawn tennis single matches (hahahaha! forget it!)and the unending debates and discussions (although most of the time we were on the same side).

I never believed he was serious when he told me he would relocate. Manila was such an ugly place it's not even fit for humans to live in. I'm still hoping his madness will end and he will head back to Cebu and live a normal life again.

Ben, Cebu is waiting for your homecoming with wide open arms. You are even welcome to share my chaotic bed, although, 3 is a crowd. Hahahahaha!!! Happy Birthday, Buddy! There is nothing in the world I'd wish for you but a peaceful mind and a still heart.

November Rain

It was dawn one cold November when every waking soul in our house overheard a conversation from the street.

"Kuya (big brother), we have a contribution in school. It's ten pesos."

"That's yours," said wearily by the big brother after a sound of coins being counted reverberated throughout the sleeping neighborhood.

"Let's go!," said another female voice. "The fishermen will be arriving shortly."

"There is not enough for the fish now. I need to pay what we ate last night. C'mon, let's get something for breakfast."

There was silence after they left and then the neighborhood began moving to start their day.

Early this morning, I saw the 3 of them sheltering themselves from the rain using the dirty sacks they used to wrap their goods. They were shivering and wet from head to toe and their lips were purple. I wonder if a cup of hot coffee is waiting for them at home, as hot and creamy as the one I have in my hand.

They sell "tangkong", a green-leafy vegetable nobody in this part of the world is brave enough to eat. It is sold as a hog's feed at a very cheap price. Every dawn, rain or shine, the shouting of "tangkong" is a familiar sound in our little sleepy town.

There was once when my Kuya rose from bed angrily, cursed their parents, bought all their goods and told them to go home and sleep. The shouting returned early dawn the following day.

Beat this! My town's government choir just went to Malaysia to sing. I wonder how many hundreds of thousands of pesos of taxpayer's money was spent to send them there. Though, I'm sure hot steaming coffee creamier than what I have now is waiting for them at their hotel suites.

Damn lucky bastards.

By the way, there used to be 4 tangkong vendors. One was hit by a speeding vehicle while carrying a sackful of tangkong over her head. She died instantly. Would you call her lucky?