UAAP Season 71 -- When it all ended on Game Tiu

Congratulations to the Ateneo Blue Eagles for being this year's UAAP champions!

It's been a long time since our last championship. I was still in Ateneo when we last held the title six years ago. Needless to say, I'm mighty proud we finally made it. Everyone actually worked for the win -- beating La Salle 4 to nothing this season and most of all, having the longest winning streak ever for UAAP at 16-1.

Cheers to our players as well for bagging most of the individual awards: Rabeh Al-Hussaini (MVP, Most Improved Player, Jollibee Champ Award, Mythical 5), Nonoy Baclao (Best Defensive Player), Chris Tiu (Mythical 5), Ryan Buenafe (Rookie of the Year, Rookie Team) and Nico Salva (Rookie Team).

I was in Ateneo yesterday morning and was able to congratulate Nonoy amidst fans who are taking his pic. Hehe :p

Anyhoo, what are we all waiting for?

sa Tuesday at the Bellarmine Field.

Read more about the winning game at Bleacher's Brew.

Photos taken from random Google searches.

Lipstick Memories: A History

6. Sep. 2008

Pucker up. Not.

Many, many years ago, men would have never considered kissing temptresses with scarlet-painted lips. Women, meanwhile, would have been extra careful not to smear crisp white polos with their lipstick — for kiss marks, then, did not have the sexy, sublime symbolism that they have now. Back then, lipstick was more than just an aesthetic tool and its mark, left memories of no less than forlorn tragedies of maladies and injustices.

What many are not aware of are the events that accompanied the evolution of women’s best-selling cosmetic. It took centuries of queer ingenuities backed up by numerous controversies to give lipstick its current form and space in the purse.

Beauty that breeds self-esteem and attracts the opposite sex, may have been the gist behind the invention of lipstick some five thousand years ago in ancient Mesopotamia. However, more often than not, beholders in the succeeding eras have not warmly regarded women who paint their lips. What is now a tiny tube of wax and color has a long history of conflicts between women and men; of being wanted, needed and loved versus being loathed, condemned and banned.

So the question is: why?

Did lipstick play an underlying role in fatal attractions that threatened men so much to the point that authorities had to impose bans in ways that range from logical to downright foolish?

Practically speaking, lip paint in ancient Egypt contained ingredients that resulted into serious illnesses – a valid point for lipstick to be completely banned from use. Later on, however, human ingenuity has paved the way for safer and easier to apply versions.

So what remains a puzzle is that, if lipstick then was not safe for use, then how come it was the male-dominated societies and institutions which stereotyped, if not forbade its use and not the women who wore them and faced the risk of mixing lipstick with their food?

History shows that ancient Rome reserved the use of lip paint to prostitutes. Meanwhile, in medieval times, lipstick was given a more despicable position by its association to the devil. More recent periods show attempts to outlaw lipstick as in 1770 when the British Parliament passed a law to make lipstick illegal and in 1924 when the New York Board of Health considered banning lipstick out of fear that it might poison men who kissed women who wore them.

It can be noted that some of the most powerful women in history were behind the craze for sexy red lips. Cleopatra, the Queen of Nile and the mother of cosmetics, crushed carmine beetles and ants to give her lips a deep red pigment (Wikipedia). Elizabeth I, meanwhile, repealed the medieval condemnation of lipstick when she popularized the classic Golden Age look of stark white faces and “piercing red lips” (The World Book Encyclopedia). Pop history later depicts sex symbol Marilyn Monroe puckering up bright red lips to compliment her blonde locks and creamy complexion -- something which men found alluring yet society considered scandalous.

Nowadays, lipstick remains as an indicator of a woman’s position in the society. Dark shades are reserved for women with power while the brighter shades (puta red-type of colors... pardon the French) are associated to those who are “loose” and ostracized in the society. The writer’s experience is reminiscent of men who prefer that their girlfriends look au naturel – meaning, no lipstick as much as possible.

Given this brief, effortless research, it may not be impossible to assume that the lipstick ban transcends physical reasons. The earlier times may have not been too keen on granting women with their much-deserved self-esteem for fear that it may cause infidelities and allow women to covet the roles of men. However, these days, it may just be due to the fact that men just want to be pleased according to what they deem as pleasant.

It is unimaginable that what seems to be a tiny object kept in women’s purses has gone through such bizarre history. So the next time an urge to comment “it’s like putting lipstick on a pig” or “it’s possibly lipstick on the collar” is nagging, just think about all the men who gave women a hard time just because of painting their lips. Women, nowadays, must not wear lipstick for a man but rather out of a sheer desire to please themselves.

Sources:
1 Why Women Wear Lipstick: Preliminary Findings by Madeleine Ogilvie and Pauline Kristensen-Bach http://smib.vuw.ac.nz:8081/WWW/ANZMAC2001/anzmac/AUTHORS/pdfs/Ogilvie.pdf
2 Wikipedia
3 The World Book Encyclopedia (Whoever thought encyclopedias are passé)
4 Photo from decideforyourself.wordpress.com

Writer’s Note: The original version of this blog was written days earlier than the published version of Lipstick Memories. Now, this serves as a supplemental reading to those who enjoyed LM.

The Forgotten Road

It’s been years.

But again, I find myself on the edge of a road I have long forgotten about -- grappling against doubts. Alone... because you are no longer here.

Deciding to go against my qualms, I see how much of the scene has changed – the old shops have closed to be replaced by others, some lands cleared to give rise to new villages. It is now an unknown territory, yet, the road seems to have preserved its silence.

I remember how this silence enveloped us – hand in hand – on our late night drives when the alcohol has already robbed us of words.

Nothing mattered then for we were sure about where we were headed to. I was calm and in place, knowing that I was in good hands. In the darkness, you could safely drive through this steep, winding road in the speed of light. On the other hand, you were secure to have me around like a map, pointing out in jest that women, having excellent intuitions, must have a better sense of direction.

If this is so, then was it my fault that we have lost our way? Have I failed to guide our relationship to its destination? Or was it you whose recklessness caused us to plummet to our end?

It is too late for this.

Time may have abstracted most signs on the road but today, I realize that it cannot really obscure memories.

We have long departed our seats in each other’s lives. I am alone and at times, I am afraid.

Somehow, I wish that you could meet me at the end of the road.

Written in thoughts 16 Sep 08. On the way home from Caliraya.

Suddenly - Soraya

Guess what? I'm in love. Again.

This, I realized, while we were holding hands in a nearby pizza parlor. We were munching on pizzas and sipping Cokes -- a favorite Saturday afternoon activity we haven't done for quite some time. In those weeks (or months) since the last time we did this, I was quite immersed in problems of my own... like meeting deadlines, deciding how I can split my body parts to multi-task and problematizing men in general. I kind of forgot how it's like to be in love... with the same person I used to wake up beside with for the past three years.

For a lot of times, we lose the "in" in love once we get lost in our routines and day-to-day problems. It just takes one relatively simple, feel-good break to find ourselves back to the feeling.

I love her. And now, I am in love again. She's a sight to behold. Look at her, ain't she pretty? Gahd, if you can only feel how it's like to be hugged, kissed and held the Krissy way then you'd be crazy.

SARAP maging mommy. xD

A Day at Caliraya: When you're supposed to be working but...

Just got back from a 13-hour trip that involved zigzagging through two mountains quite down south and at the east -- Laguna and Rizal.

It was my second time within the quarter to visit Caliraya to check sites for our tree-planting activity, which is the third phase of our recently-launched environmental program. Given the scenic view of the lake and as well as the fresh air of the province, I wanted to run around in the open... arms stretched and shouting with much excitement like a child. Or maybe, I could sit on the lone bench by the edge of the lake to do my inextravagant favorite hobbies: to read, write, draw or just reflect.

But I couldn't.

I had to work. I had a two-week deadline to meet. No, make that just a week. Though I'm glad that I have more experienced colleagues who are there to back me up, I honestly feel like if one tiny detail is overlooked, I'll be, well, a failure.

Anyway, the only therapeutic thing that I was able to do was to obsess myself with some native jewelry holders in Paete. I do not really know what to do with them so I guess I'm selling the others on my Multiply shop: http://smartdresser.multiply.com. The meals and the conversations were also great. Don't I always, always love long drives, good food and the conversations that make them all the more better?

It rained when we were on our way home. How I wish I could've gotten out of the car and let the child in me come out to dance in the rain.

Gah. I have to go.

Note: The picture above will be our planting site. (Taken on my first visit last July.) Volunteers can take off their clothes, leave them by the bank and do seven laps to get to the islet in their birthday suits. I think a volunteer can plant as much as 15 seedlings there. Hehe.

More pics of the site and out R&R area to be posted. You'll lavet!

Year 24

It's the eve of my birthday, a Friday evening, and I am seated in mock isolation within the confines of 9-square meter cubicle. I am trying to rack my brains about something... or anything special that can be linked to the number 24. However, to no avail. My hard drive cannot recall a song, a fancy saying or a Carrie Bradshaw quote that mentions anything fabulous about being 24. (Twenty-three was so much better. I was finally able to quote Plumb in one of my favorite songs, Real. But it ends there.)

Anyhoo, just to stop myself from concluding that 24 is indeed boring, I'd like to see this year as a challenge. You know, I like goals—coiling, aiming and shooting at them. So, I take Year 24 as a year to let all my realistic quarter-life dreams (and wild fantasies) happen while at the same time, preparing for the next big thing at 25, my silver year. After all, I won't be as young as I currently feel when I step on the silver ladder. (So will there be a big party next year? We'll see. Work hard, party harder, right?)

Ugh. Does that mean forever ditching my denim minis and not skipping around the office when no one is watching? And... less baby talk?

I'm such a kid. I know. Krissy will probably outgrow baby talk faster than I ever would.

Anyway, I thank God for giving me a great year. It was a year of firsts, a bit of accomplishments, a couple of meaningful friendships, some trials and a few imagined heartbreaks. What matters most is that I came out of 23 as a better person... though partly disappointed at reviving an old harmful habit.

I am thankful that I have my family intact and that I have a home and a beautiful daughter to go home to everyday. Also thankful that I have a job that allows me to exercise my creativity and meet people from various walks of life.

Earlier this month, I came up with a wish list but I honestly do not feel like I really wanted most of them. (But yes, I am thankful I have yet to make use of a free waxing privilege and that I have received chocolates from various non-romantic sources within the past week.)

As I told someone today, I am wishing for something that money cannot buy. Happiness—for me and the people I care about. I believe I am quite in that state in spite of my make-believe struggles and heartaches. I love the drama. But seriously, as of the moment, I find no gaps in my contentment continuum. I am whole. I guess I just get really bothered whenever I see loved ones being jaded or fighting some inner demons. I hate it.

But as I learned in my speaking engagement this week, happiness is a personal effort so my real wish is for God to give me opportunities. Meaning, opportunities to be happy and to make others happy. Along those lines, I wish for opportunities to make things finally happen.



My heartfelt thanks to everyone who made their advance greetings... including the crazy guys who sang me a loud birthday song in PLPI's elevator.

It wouldn't hurt to wish for a spankin' sexy pair of shoes this year. Just look at these hot pair of CL boots donned by Blake Lively on her birthday. Some birthday boots! :p

Self-enhancement Workshop

I was once again invited by Systems Plus College, Angeles City to conduct a self-enhancement workshop for their college freshmen. This year, the topics were Time Management and Self-Awareness. For the sake of marrying both concepts, I gave my workshop the title: From Good Times to the Good Life.

I love giving trainings. As many might not be aware, everything started in grade school. I always felt like it was a privilege to be assigned as a student-teacher to younger grade levels everytime the teachers have to converge for seminars or meetings.

Eventually, my parents would ask me to handle some personality development sessions in their training center for healthcare workers and as well as in their colleagues' centers. I cannot really remember them much but I am sure that the experience helped me overcome my fears of teaching older, more experienced people than I am.

Later on, I joined one of the country's pioneer speech and personality schools as a part-time speech coach. It was a short stint. But it always felt great to have students thanking me for helping them improve their lives or even requesting me to handle their next classes!

I was able to learn much from my boss (who quite resembles Meryll Streep's character in The Devil Wears Prada) who brought me along with her in her corporate trainings. The experience gave me a good back-up when I was later promoted as a sales trainer at a multinational bank. There, I trained direct and tele-sales associates. I was able to build good "mentor-slash-friend" relationships with most of my trainees that I kind of became their "go-to girl" when they were already on the field. (Gahd, I miss them.)

For the past two years, I have received a couple of invitations for various speaking engagements. Some did not materialize out of constraints on schedule. But lately, I have been thinking of doing this regularly -- with or without honoraria, depending on the cause and the audience, just so I can continue my personal advocacy, which is to help empower people.

Last year, I was able to make young men and women come up and speak about their insecurities. According to them, the experience was very liberating. In the process, I felt the same way too, and at the same time, humbled, for I have to do it myself to be able to get my audience do it.

Preparing and giving trainings is a 2-way learning process. While they are mainly opportunities to transfer knowledge, I cannot discount the fact that as a speaker or a trainer, I also learn much from the process.

I am glad to have gotten very good feedback from my audience. But it ends there if I was not successful about inspiring and motivating them to live better lives.

We'll see. I always check with my contacts how well they are faring. My prayers for now.

Lipstick Memories

Among the many complexities of being human is the desire to be remembered. That is why men and women go to great lengths – often expressed in simplified ways – to find themselves in the most far-flung place on earth: the other’s thoughts.

The other may have been a part of a relationship – that which has happened out of bizarre, unconventional circumstances; coincidences where we put meaning to, such that, they become a work of fate. It may be that, which have left us forever on a limbo, not really because the other has gone in the absence of verbal pronouncements, but rather, because we choose to look, with hope, not beyond the grey areas. It is the relationship that might as well never happened when it had, once, at a certain moment in our lives... and of the other’s life.

This realization creates a certain kind of fear among ourselves. We are afraid to be forgotten… more than we are afraid to forget.

Lengthier relationships have the privilege of creating bigger spaces for memories and more opportunities to create them. There will always be the missives that will recount lost affection, pictures that frame a face; an expression once worn, and videos that replay moments that will never happen again.

But what concession do short, unpronounced relationships deserve but only those as mere as a smudge of ourselves?

Lipstick – on the cup of coffee we consciously leave plunked on his cupholder; innocently smudged on his cheek after a goodbye kiss. Their fame is only good until the cup has been tossed to a waiting bin elsewhere along the road or until they have been smoothly erased by just one wipe of a hand.

Maybe lipstick on the collar is better in some ways. They linger for a few hours, overnight. They fade the next day, with soap and water, after a furious rubbing of two tightly closed fists.



TIP LINKS:
For women: How to avoid putting MAKE-UP IN ALL THE WRONG PLACES
For men: HOW TO CLEAN LIPSTICK FROM THE COLLAR

Photo credit: Stain Expert