It's that time of year again... my birthday.

It's that time of year again, when I age a little more.
It's that time of year again, when I learn a snippet more.
It's that time of year again, when I mature a tad more.
It's that time of year again, when I appreciate a touch more.
It's that time of year again.

My birthday.

When I was younger, like any other child, I regarded birthdays as “the festival of the year”. I loved birthdays. It meant I could demand for presents from my parents. It meant cake and ice cream. It meant special treatment and my favourite food served for meals. I was a child and I was blissful.

Then I grew up.

Over the years, it seemed as though the value of my birthday, and birthdays in general, had diminished somewhat. I rarely received birthday presents from my friends as I progressed in high school, except for some gifts from a few best friends.

But on a lighter note ---- I guess to be fair --- God made my college days different as I received more gifts than I could ever wish for. I think I have developed some of the best friendships during that phase of my life. After I graduated from college and started working at People Support, I was fortunate enough to have been blessed with the opportunity to meet some wonderful souls --- people who made me feel special each year. My birthdays in People Support were awesome. My friends never fail to surprise me year after year after year.

But I’m not in People Support anymore. I am not in La Salle anymore. I don’t really expect much this year. I have prepared myself for the worst birthday ever. No presents, no cakes, no ice cream, no celebration. Don’t get me wrong though. I still expect to receive presents from my parents and brothers but only because they never missed to give me one every single year. I also have a handful of friends from outside the company whom I know will still surprise me with something unusual... those I look forward to. But other than that, I expected nothing else this year... not from the company I work for... not from my officemates.

If I was still the child I had been 15 years ago, I’d have thrown an emotional tantrum involving generous episodes of dramatic kicking and screaming and threats to jump out of the window. No birthday cake on such a glorious day? Blasphemy!

But I didn’t.

I realized it was because I simply stopped caring. There were a few consecutive years in the past, in which really horrible things happened on my birthday, or a few days before it. I spent my birthdays feeling miserable, wishing fervently that I had been blessed with a boring, ordinary day for my birthday instead. When you are put into situations which make you cry really badly all day, you actually don’t think about presents and celebrations. You’d give anything to be able to live a normal, routine day.

Which was exactly how I felt. It no longer mattered to me if nobody cared, if nobody remembered except my family and close friends. All I wanted was a normal, peaceful day and I’d be happy for another year.

No birthday cake? Not a problem, I’d just buy myself a slice of cake and eat it. No greetings? Well, who cares, they’re all busy people anyway, and it’s no different than wishing someone “good morning” every morning, except people only wish you “happy birthday” once a year.

My birthday was just a date to me, nothing more than a mechanical reminder that I had passed another milestone in life.

I was fine, and I was genuinely happy. I didn’t need anyone to remember, which was why I always tried to conceal my date of birth whenever anyone asked. I didn’t want people to make a fuss; I didn’t want them to go through any trouble just for me.

Today, Reich, Royce, Chester, Kei, Harlie, Reg, Tatty, LJ, Mac, AC, Pedz, Stlz, Bash, Wendell, Tyrone, Rowell, Mae, Pao, Russell, Vok, my whole Care Family, the entire Care FSS and the rest of my friends in management and support staff surprised me with a birthday cake when we were having dinner at the 31st floor pantry of PBCOM. Chester and I were singing “Just Once” --- part of the Customer Service week celebration --- when all of them showed up with a cake.

I stared at it for a while and the first thing I said was “Chester’s birthday?”

It was obviously not one of my more brilliant moments.

For the strangest reason I thought the cake was for my friend Chester who celebrated his birthday 6 days ago.

They all looked as though I had snorted green tea out of my nose.

“YOUR CAKE!”

Oh my. I honestly did not expect that. At that very moment I was looking at the most beautiful cake in the world, because it was a thoughtful gesture of sincerity and kindness in the spirit of friendship.

I have always suspected that I’ve grown up too quickly for my age, but today, when you guys went out of your way to get me a cake, when you had to relight the candle 10 thousand times because the air-conditioning kept on putting the flame out, when you guys took one million photos of me looking absolutely retarded, when you guys dictated how I should make my wish, when you made me remove the candle from the cake using my mouth, when we camwhored, when Chester had to slice the cake for me because I was such a noob at cutting cakes, when we shared the cake and laughed, when we had fun, I became a child again.

I was once again the child who loved and glorified birthdays. I was once again the little boy who squealed at the sight of cake. I was once again the kid who enjoyed birthdays.

Thank you for making my birthday meaningful again.

I love you guys.

Boulevard of Broken Dreams

Dreams.

Dreams are what people live for. Dreams are what people die for. Without dreams our existence would be but a meaningless joke played on us by indifferent powers.

Each day we conceive a multitude of dreams. Most of them we forget shortly after, others we discard as not possible on this world, but there are those precious few that we keep in our mind and mull over in hope of fulfilling them one day.

These dreams we bottle up and store away for the time being when their fulfilling will be possible. Much like wine, we put them with great care in the darkest corners of our souls, so that they won't disturb our every-day life, and sometimes forget about them --- to find them again at unexpected moments of life.

Why do we do that --- why not fulfilling them right away?

Who knows --- human beings are peculiar creatures. Maybe we are afraid to fail and get hurt. Maybe we are afraid that the fragile fabric of the dream will shatter on the cold face of reality. Or perhaps we believe that now is not the right moment and decide to wait for a more favorable time.

But storing dreams is a risky practice. Many times when we deem the moment appropriate, we dig the dream-bottle up, open it --- sometimes to share with others, sometimes to enjoy on our own --– and wait for a genie to come out and make the dream real, only to find out that the dream-wine has turned sour and is no longer fit for use, or that the bottle has been cracked and the dream has faded. At other times we shatter the bottle in our hurry, eagerness and inexperience and watch the precious substance spill and vaporize through our fingers, while we desperately try to cling to some of it.

And yet there are times when we manage to open the bottle and we offer to share the contents with another but find that this person prefers not to drink, or we find out that the dream has lost its appeal and is not what we thought of it at all --- after all, it has been a long while since we have seen the insides of that bottle.

At time like these, all you left to do is to realize that this dream is gone and a chapter of your life symbolized by that dream is closed. Life is constantly changing, eternally fluid and never stops in its tracks – and you have to adapt to its currents or be dragged underwater and fade away like smoke in strong wind. Find another dream, any dream, pursue it with fervor and do not let the momentary downfall put you on hold.

Dear friends of mine, I wish you to have no such moments of bitter realization –-- and if you cannot avoid it, may they be as few as possible and fleeting as such. Even in the darkest hour, remember that there are always those who are ready to aid you, if only you were to ask for their help.

Know that everything is for the best, after all, and shattered dreams may transform from mere illusions into something stronger and beneficial --- or give birth to altogether new things.

May each change prove easy on you.

My Birthday Resolutions

The clock ticks slowly but steadily. As steadily as it ticks the minutes and the hours, the years go by. I won’t say ‘flies by’, though it is so customary to say, "But how the years have flown!" The years do not fly; they go by rhythmically and evenly. Nothing can be timed more accurately than the passing of each day.

And with the years come birthdays quite an annual feature, but so much funfairs and expectations roll up with each birthday. Hopes and misgivings, flights of fancy and resolutions; each year new ones are made, each year the ‘now’ resolutions are broken afresh, for why else are resolutions made if not to be broken? And made afresh and then broken again?

After the New Year a lot of people ask me what resolutions I have made. When I answer in the negative, they stare at me as if I were some curio, but I do not make resolutions; only I make them on the eve of my birthday, as the night slips into the morning silently and without warning like a thief at the dead of night. As I lie awake waiting for the clock to chime the midnight hour, I look back at the vista of years and relive again the ancient past.

An odd feeling of nostalgia grips me as I think of the birthdays of yesteryears. Years when birthdays meant pretty clothes and presents and of course birthday greeting cards. Those were the party years and meant fun and frolic with all the exuberance of youth when optimism runs high and pessimism is at it’s lowest ebb --- when one is young and the world is at his foot and the sky is never too high.

But with the dawning of each year, new fears and apprehensions begin dawning too. Exuberance and hope give way to disillusionment and despair. What was once one more hurdle now becomes one more step to hurtle down. What was once a fruitful past now somehow seems an arid waste and the future? a bleak desert maybe with an oasis or two to punctuate the monotony. The pessimist sees more pitfalls and the optimist more mountains.

Even the successful man sees in the past the mistakes that he made and paid for – and laments in vain: "Oh that we could have two lives --- one to make mistakes and the other to learn from them".

But as Cicero in his legacy of the past had said, "While there is life, there is hope" and hope is such a stimulating balm. Life is there still stretching out in front of you to make or to mar --- the chance is yours and yours alone. The past is past and nothing can be done to change it the way you want.

The days of yesteryears remain etched in one’s memory but with the passage of time many events and incidents tend to blur away and only important and significant one’s remain for one to reminisce and revive nostalgic memories.

The future is cloaked in mystery, in doubt, in apprehension but also in hope, in joy and expectations. Resolutions come clamoring to the fore, old one’s rush to be included, wild impulsive decisions are made and still the clock ticks steadily on.

At five minutes to midnight, I will hold on to the old year for all I am worth. But the chimes start to ring out and no hand on earth can stop them.

In these five minutes, I will be one year older and one more year of my life has lapsed.

Indeed it is truly said, "Time and tide wait for no man".

Another year, another heck of a ride...

For the past year, I am thankful...

For my boyfriend who says it's pizza and DVD tonight, because he is home with me, not with someone else.

For my boyfriend who is on the sofa being a couch potato, because he is home with me and not out at the bars.

For myself who is complaining about doing dishes, because that means I am at home, not on the streets.

For the taxes that I pay, because it means that I am employed.

For the mess to clean up after a party, because it means that I have been surrounded by friends.

For the clothes that fit a little too snug, because it means I have enough to eat.

For my shadow that watches me work, because it means I am out in the sunshine.

For a lawn that needs mowing, windows that need cleaning, and gutters that need fixing, because it means I have a home.

For all the complaining I hear about the government, because it means that we have freedom of speech.

For the parking spot I find at the far end of the parking lot, because it means I am capable of walking and that I have been blessed with transportation.

For my huge heating bill, because it means I am warm.

For the lady behind me in church that sings off key, because it means that I can hear.

For the pile of laundry and ironing, because it means I have clothes to wear.

For weariness and aching muscles at the end of the day, because it means I have been capable of working hard.

For the alarm that goes off in the early morning hours, because it means that I am alive.

And finally...

For too much e-mail, text messages, phone calls, friend requests in Friendster and multiply, testimonials, comments on my blogs, pictures, videos and posts, and invites on coffee, movies, dates and SEBs because it means I am being appreciated by people...

May this year be as wacky if not better than last year...

I'll keep my fingers crossed.

Birthday Thoughts

Four days from now, I will be celebrating my birthday. Once again, I am taking a moment to look at where I have come from and where I expect to go in the future. This has been a year of growth and, from the looks of things; this will continue to be a time in which great things are expected to happen.

Today was a little more laid back than normal, as I took some time for some badly needed rest. I have been stressed out the whole week supervising my new team. I didn't have a POC yet so I handled everything by myself. But no worries, I am taking this weekend to unwind. The downtime gave me an opportunity to catch up on my little-celebrity-like-life and just have some 'me' time for once. It felt great, let me tell ya. But I am going to be thrust back into reality on Monday, 6:30pm, when I return back to work.

Saying goodbye to this year, the most valuable things I will take with me are the memories I had with you... yes, you... all of you... and I want to thank every person for playing a part in them:

To my friends: you have gone beyond the limits of what one has to do for another. My life will be forever richer and more beautiful because you were a part of it. I love you with all my heart.

To every girl/boy who gossiped about me in corners of parties; to those who were my slap in the face; to the close-minded or misunderstanding; to those who broke my heart: you all challenged me to become the person I wanted to be. I am stronger because of the trials you put me through and no matter what you have done to me, you have unknowingly done so much for me.

To every person who inspired me by the way they lived their life; to those who were my shoulder to cry on; to those I found myself with in my moments of pure joy; to those who have understood me; to the people I share inside jokes with; to anyone who has held my hand, or for that matter, held my head back after a night of partying; to those who I laughed with until I cried; to my ex-boyfriends; to everyone I stayed up talking to until the early morning hours: thank you for the wisdom, happiness, and experience you’ve brought into my life. I will cherish these times forever. I wish you all the best.

Thank you guys for taking care of my heart without knowing anything about cardiology. And from the bottom of my slightly-healed heart, I love you all.

Thank you.