Happy 15th Birthday, Cosmo!

It's not too late to grab Cosmopolitan Philippines' special 15th anniversary issue!

 

Cosmo celebrated the milestone with a party at NBC Tent. Check out the cute, glowing cocktail tabletop! 

I normally don't like attending big events, but for Cosmo (and EIC Myrza Sison), I made an exception. Here I am with the goddess herself (in pink) and GH's associate publisher, Melody.

 

Attire was "sexy formal." I would've totally rocked this dress three years ago when I was at my fittest. But I just sucked it up (and sucked it in) and made like a true Cosmo girl and owned it--lumps and all. Har.

Happy anniversary, Cosmo! Cheers to 15 years of fun, fabulous fearlessness!

Of Taho and Fairy Godmothers

He works hard for the moneh. (Photo from here. No copyright infringement intended.)

On some mornings, when we're too lazy to cook a proper breakfast, my husband and I buy cups of taho from the neighborhood vendor, who passes by our house at approximately the same time each day. Taho, to my dear foreign readers, is a snack/drink made of soft tofu, arnibal (a syrupy brown sweetener), and tapioca pearls. It's warm (although mall kiosks sell a cold version) and costs about 10 pesos a cup (that's about 25 cents).

Our own manong taho is much like other taho vendors throughout the country--he walks around the neighborhood carrying two large aluminum cans attached to a yoke, which he hitches over one shoulder. His face is weathered and brown, after years of walking under the heat of our tropical sun. And he's got the well-modulated voice that calls out "Tahooo!" every few steps, heralding his arrival on our street. (I'm convinced that all taho vendors go to Taho School to get that pitch-perfect tone.)

We were surprised when, one day, he pedaled by on a bike, an attached umbrella shielding him from the summer sun, his aluminum cans resting in a sidecar. He happily told us that it was given to him by a suki, someone from one of the nearby streets who's been a loyal customer for 30 years. "Malaking tulong (It's a big help)," he said, his voice filled with such gratitude and happiness that it just warmed my heart.

"Mga P3,500 din ang nagasta niya diyan (He/she spent about P3,500 on it)," he said of his suki/fairy godmother. And while P3,500 doesn't seem like much to a sheltered lass like me, I realized that it was a lot of money for someone who sells taho for ten bucks a pop.

I always thought that helping someone, making a difference, meant devoting so much time and energy that I didn't have enough of--volunteering every week, donating truckloads of money. But now I know that even little things can help. Even a small gesture on our part could mean the world to someone else--so let's go out there and do a good deed, however insignificant it may seem.

A Funny Thing Happened at Work

I was at a TV station, interviewing a big star, when another big star passed by. She exchanged pleasantries with my interview subject before tapping me on the shoulder, giving me a big smile, and kissing me on the cheek--she seemed so happy to see me. This was made surprising by the fact that we had never met each other before that!

This leads me to believe that 1) big stars normally just say hi to all people, in case they had met them before (a snub--especially of a member of the press--might get rumor mills churning, I suppose), and 2) this particular big star must be a terrific actress. She seemed genuinely pleased to see me!

She didn't stick around long enough for us to have a conversation, so it was just a funny incident. But in other cases, it's downright awkward. I have a very bad memory when it comes to people's names and faces, so this happens a lot. (My husband remembers my college batchmates better than I do--and he's from an older batch!) What do you do when you run into someone you supposedly know but can't for the life of you even remember? I know, I'm terrible.:s

Passion and Happiness in the Month of May

In case you didn't know, I'm a Kylie fan. So this outtake from the May issue...

 

Photo by Carlo Ambrosio Lina

...was inspired by...

 

Photo from here

GH managing ed Lola and I were able to tap into our inner rock stars in between layouts for our main feature about moms who pursued their passion. The photo above was taken on the day we shot a mom who's also the lead singer of an indie band, as well as a mom to a 16-year-old who is a member of the Polecats! (Other featured moms: one who quit her job to raise her baby and concentrate on making chocolate, another who wrote a book after having a baby, and a lola who's a member of the women's national rugby team!)

There are a bunch of other great features in the May issue, including a feature on finding happiness now--whether you're a mom or a non-mom, you can definitely pick up a few tips.

And, oh, new mom Regine Velasquez is on the cover for the first time. Grab a copy now for just a hundred bucks.:)

P.S.
In an earlier version of this post, I mentioned that Gretchen Rubin's Happiness Project column appears in this month's issue. Sorry about that--it will be debuting next month. Such is life in the magazine world--the months start blending into each other after a while!

Childhood Is a Magnolia Ice Cream Cake

A child of the 80s will most likely remember the Magnolia Flavor House, an ice cream place in Cubao, which, in retrospect, reminds me of the Archie hangout Pop Tate's. The Flavor House served fancy concoctions like peach melba, back when I was perfectly content with a chocolate sundae. It had this distinctive smell--a strange yet comforting mix of sweet and cold.

The place was adjacent to the factory, where grade school kids would go on field trips to see how ice cream was made. And at the back was an area which sold a much-loved, much-missed treat: the Magnolia ice cream cake.

The ice cream cake is long gone, so I just grabbed this photo from here.

For some reason, I've been missing Magnolia ice cream cake so much lately, and it saddens me that I will never ever taste it again--a few years ago, Magnolia was turned into a condo development. My last trip to the Flavor House was maybe eight years ago, when I had to revise a story I wrote for Reader's Digest. It was my first taste of some heavy-duty editing, and I needed Hamil's opinion and a banana split to help me through it. If I could have had ice cream cake, I would have, but it had been phased out years before. Even then, I missed it. To some people, it was just jazzed-up vanilla ice cream in a box, but to me, it meant so much more.

It tasted of anticipation--going to the old Magnolia felt like Christmas Eve. Waiting for that big, striped box containing our order was a lot like waiting for the clock to strike midnight so we could finally open our gifts.

It tasted of celebration--an ice cream cake meant a special occasion, a party at home, a chance to play with my cousins.

It tasted of wonder--I marveled at the dry ice in which the cake was packed. I was amazed at how it melted into nothing, and how we could make an instant fog machine when we dumped it into some water.

It tasted of novelty--cake AND ice cream in one? Possibly the best invention ever. Come to think of it, it might be why frozen brazo de mercedes is one of my absolute favorite cakes.

 

Most of all, it tasted of family--ice cream cake reminds me of my grandparents' house, trips to the ice creamery, and the neighborhood where I grew up.

I can't remember exactly what it looked like or even what it truly tasted like. But because of it, I remember so much more.

Keeping House

And my housekeeping tip of the day is brought to you by my maid-less existence: When cleaning the microwave, check the "ceiling." I thought I had gotten my microwave to sparkling, lemon-y fresh levels (using a damp microfiber cloth, an eco-friendly surface spray, and a dollop of some heavy-duty surface cleaner for tough spots)--until I bent down and looked up to see the remaining MoMA-worthy spaghetti sauce splatters.

We normally have a maid come over once a week, but she's been on vacation for the past three weeks. (Buti pa siya.) So I had to come up with a manageable system--given my full-time job and packed weekends--that would keep the house from falling into total disarray while the trusty help is on her extended leave. My solution: housework as my morning workout.

To keep things from getting too overwhelming, I try to do one or two little things a day, right after breakfast. Day 1, for example, is for sweeping and mopping; day 2 for cleaning the kitchen counter and organizing; day 3 for setting aside our freshly laundered clothes; day 4 for cleaning the microwave. (Making the bed and washing the dishes are givens.) Vacuuming is for free time during the weekend.

Save for vacuuming, I do enjoy most of it. I like scrubbing away stains and seeing a pristine surface after I'm done with it. I like walking on our shiny floors. I like the smell of clean. Still, I think I'm going to like it even more when our helper comes back! She is AWESOME at her job (and, more importantly, she's incredibly trustworthy), and I love her to bits.

Monday Musings: Do You Love Your Job?

On a recent evening, faced with the prospect of an all-nighter at work, I thought about how lucky I am to be doing something that I love. I don't mind working overtime for this job, and even when I'm faced with challenges, I just want to figure out how to overcome them (as opposed to just raising the white flag). It made me think about how many people are stuck in jobs they have lukewarm (or ill) feelings for. That, in turn, made me think about how people can tell if they have a job they truly love. And THAT reminded me of a story I read earlier in the day about three Mega Millions lottery winners in the US who'll be receiving $35 million apiece (*whistle*) after taxes.

Image from Maryland Lottery, via Yahoo!

The winners were two public school teachers and an administrator who pooled together to buy a bunch of tickets. The article said:

"The three winners have chosen to remain anonymous but did allow the lottery officials to reveal some details about them. All three reportedly currently work multiple jobs just to pay their monthly bills. Even with their newfound fortunes, all three told [Maryland lottery director] Martino that they would keep their jobs at the school. 'One said "I can't give up on my kids,"' he said."

How about that?

So that got me thinking: If you won megabucks at a lottery, would you quit your job? If your answer is a resounding "Yes!" then it might be time to think about going after your dream job. Life is too short to spend at least a third of your day doing something you don't have strong feelings for. If you're afraid of making the leap, seek professional advice. You can even email Good Housekeeping's career columnist (ghphils@summitmedia.com.ph) to help you figure out your next step.

And my answer is no.:)