Sherlock Holmes this January 2010

Robert Downey Jr. as Sherlock Holmes?!?!?!

Set against a fog-stained Westminster backdrop, the eye-catching posters show Robert Downey Jr.'s Holmes carrying on the debonair combination of style and six o'clock shadow familiar from the trailer (still no sign of a deerstalker), while Jude Law's Watson has gone seriously Saville Row in an awesomely Victorian three-piece. The cane - traditionally Holmes' weapon of choice - seems to fallen into the good doctor's possession.

Holmes has traditionally spent a lot of time musing on cases from the velvetine comfort of 221B Baker Street, but Ritchie's reboot gets him out and about in the dark alleyways of 19th century London, meeting people and generally beating the hell of them. The sleuth, as they say, is out there.

SHERLOCK HOLMES opens in theaters locally on January 8, 2010.

So watch out for the film... I will :)

Io veramente sono spiacente...

Caro Damian,

Io avevo torto. Offenda pensare che avrebbe funzionato fuori tra noi. Io credevo che gli errori sarebbero rettificati questa durata che non c'è stanza per un altro errore. Ma questa durata, era ora stessa quello ci provati ambo sbagliato. Io ora ho la risposta che mi guiderebbe pacatamente indietro alla vita che era giustamente il mio. Forse poi La guiderà così come mi guidò.

Io sono spiacente... Ma io devo citare una linea dalla canzone di Taylor che accerchia vero per i due di noi: tutti io stavo sprecando questa durata, sperando che Lei passerebbe... Io sto distribuendo ogni volta di opportunità, e tutto che Lei fa mi è deluso...

Con amore,
Danielle

To Mom with Love

I know you've heard of lines like: "My dad is better than your dad, or my mom is better than your mom..." I'm not going to compare my mom against your mom. For I know that our moms made us grow the best way possible in her own special way.

My fondest memory of my mom, was when I was really young. I was aged 7 that time and my mom (like all moms who had to go to work) was quite busy. I remember her heading out of the house with her blue high-heeled shoes, blue slacks, blouse and blazer (it changes by day, brown or gray the next day), rushing into the car with my dad who would also head to the office for the day. She would give me a kiss on the cheek and run off. We would see each other by lunchtime and when she comes home from the office. Oftentimes when she had to go off and inspect some of the sites she has been working on, I would be left with my oldest sister, and some older brothers at home. My dad had to be off somewhere doing Medical Missions in different provinces. Some of those Medical Missions were the most memorable in Philippines history: Ormoc Tragedy (1992), I was 6 years old then, Mount Pinatubo erupting in 1991, I was 5 years old then. I remember my mom cuddling me and my older sister assuring us that dad would be home safe from the missions. After those missions, 1993 I got sick with Type 2 Dengue and my mom had to take care of me when I was in the hospital. They were worried sick, for I was 7 years old then and my frail body was infested with the second (if not deadliest) type of dengue. My mom would be at my side wiping my hot brow and sleeping on a couch beside my hospital bed. A few months after, thinking that I would be out of harm's way, I was sick yet again not with a virus, but this time, my appendix burst and I had to undergo surgery. I was aged 8 when I had my Appendectomy. My mom, was outside the operating room waiting and my dad was inside holding my hand while I was going under the knife. I even remember counting the number of lights on the overhead light.

Paradise...
After having my appendectomy, my father got assigned on an island paradise. Known to the world and famous for its white sandy beaches. Boracay was the ideal place during that time. Almost uninhabited by people. During that time, I was able to bond with my mom nonstop. We were inseparable, picking up seashells on the shore, watching the waves crash on the sand, and it was Boracay where I learned how to cook rice at a young age of 8. My mom was there to pick me up after school and we would either walk by the bay and talk about how school went or we would take a tricycle ride home. I also learned the importance of money during that time, since all things in Boracay were expensive. It was truly paradise indeed.

Nature trail...
Eight months later, my father got reassigned again, and this time we moved to nature-lush Laguna. A landmark for Mt. Makiling and Jose Rizal's hometown, Laguna is also know for its buko pie and espasol. My mom was my constant companion throughout my school days. I was in the 4th grade then and my mom would pick me up from school. Upon arriving home we would go over the lesson I learned from school. At this time in my life, my mom taught me how to sweep the floor and wash my clothes. For me, it was the beginning of my independence and at the same time a learning experience that would last me my entire lifetime.

Back at the metropolis...
After spending six months in Laguna, my father got reassigned yet again back in Manila. And this time, I recalled that my mom went with me to my school field trip. And it was during these times when my mom would slip in my lunch box "notes". These notes, were some inspiring thoughts and messages that I could learn a lot from. Today I still call them love notes from mom.

Turmoil years...
High school years are the turmoil years. Hormones change and the angst you feel against your parents are raging inside of you. For me, it wasn't angst. It was love. Through those turmoil years, my mom was there for me. She taught me how to cook and I will always treasure that from my mom.

Now that I've grown, I thank my mom. And my mom's mom. Without them, I wouldn't be here. And I wouldn't have learned all these things. Memories that are timeless... I really regret the times when I do something to hurt my mom or my dad. But I will always be thankful for them being my parents. I recalled when someone tried to hurt me emotionally and my mom was there to tell me, that there is someone out there far better. The guy who tried to hurt me, doesn't deserve me, she said.

Mom... I love you. 360 degrees... all throughout.

At a glance...

I was looking at an almost empty page of my journal. Searching that maybe I have tried to muster the courage to write what once was. But then again, I did. I wrote my soul out. I remember each and every memory, smiles and pains. I wanted to grab the car keys and run away forever. But running away meant I have given up a battle that has already been foretold.

There are days meant to unfold and tell us something of what's about to happen. I was thankful, that despite the pain I have been through, my prayers never goes unanswered.

Few years back, I was asking for a closure that I thought would never be given. Two nights ago, it came. I used to dream of the house in the middle of a forest, with a little kid, a guide, to tell me of what to do. The memories replaying night by night. What happened was meant to be forgotten, but they replayed in my heart and there are nights when I cry myself to sleep and wishing that one day, I would never wake up. My dreams show of me of anguish and pain, of pointing fingers, who to blame and who has to leave. But that night in question proved to me otherwise, that I in my own sense, have found the closure I needed. He's finally happy for me. For the first time in two years, he has told me, that I have made a great choice and that he's happy for me. No more haunting me of what could've been, and should have been.

Now I face the future with a smile in my face. This is my year. Like what the song Here Comes Goodbye by Rascal Flatts say, goodbye has come for my past.

Looking for a place to fall asleep... Numbing me out.

It's bad enough, that the people I work with wants me to change everything: my looks, the way I dress, etc. (not that it's not good or anything), but my flesh and blood had to dictate to me who should I fall in love with. The last time she did that, it made me clean a mess that wasn't mine. Where's the guy now? Married. With a family of his own. Me? Still here and pretty much broken. Can't my own sister be happy for me for once? I'm always happy for her whenever she finds her love. But with me? No one is good enough. It's either he's not good-looking enough or something. And even if she wanted someone for me, would it be the same time as the last one? Another who will slip through my fingers. I wanted a life of my own, different from hers. I've been wanting to go to law school and medicine school, but she's been telling me that it won't mean a thing when I get married. At least, for me I know I have a back-up, a dream and more importantly: a life. The new one she wants for me, is not that bad. I get along with him and his entire family. They're great, no dull moments, like mine. But like I said, the last time she dictated who I should like, was one of my darkest moments. Nights when I hug myself tight and rock myself to sleep while crying. Trying to forget and numb the pain out.

Sleep is the only solution to take away the pain. And every time I wake up, I keep on wondering what kind of new scar will it bring to me.

Fade to grey...

Dreams usually tell us what might lie ahead. For me, it was a recurrent dream that I have encountered two years back. Something that was hard to forget, for it has involved a house in the middle of a forest. It was nighttime in my dream and there was a thunderstorm outside. Lucas, the little boy who visits me in my dreams is sitting at the bottom of the staircase with a scared look in his eyes. He was afraid of thunderstorms, although he loved the rain.

"Why are you still awake at this time? It's getting late," I told Lucas sternly.
"I can't sleep. It's too loud. Will daddy be coming home?" inquired Lucas pleadingly.
"He's coming home, I'm not just so sure about the time. Why don't I tuck you in and I will let you know when he has arrived. Would that be fine?" I asked.
"Yes that would be fine..." his voice trailing. A knock on the front door interrupts Lucas for a second.
"Now who could that be at this time of the night? Wait here" I instruct to him by the middle of the staircase. I open the door and there in black overalls, pants, jacket and cowboy hat stood Adam.

Adam. What was he doing here?

"I've come for my children and you," spoke Adam in a terse voice.
"Children? They're not yours," I answered bravely, trying to hide the fear in my almost broken tone.
"They're my children and you're my wife. You're coming home with me," commanded Adam with a booming voice.
"Wife? I was and never will be your wife when you chose the path your treading right now. You lost me ages ago. These kids were never your children!" I answered back, almost crying.
"Mommy, where's daddy?" cried Lucas.
"Daddy's coming. Go upstairs to your brothers and sister. Wait for me there," I ordered Lucas sternly. "Adam, please leave. They are not your children, nor am I your wife. My husband is coming. You have no right to be here," I begged.
"This is your husband?" Adam picking up the photo frame by the console, he continues, "you replaced me with him? Amy, you replaced me? How could you do such a thing?" asks Adam.
"You left. And that was your choice," turning my back on him I trudge up the stairs with Lucas.
"Amy. AMY!!!" shouts Adam.

And I wake up.

Scars

It's been two years. Two years since the pain. It was exactly the same time, same month when he began saying goodbye. I wanted to let go so badly, but I wasn't given the chance. I was asked to hold on, because it wasn't over till it's over. I already knew, months before, that it was over. The moment when I was approached by someone close to his heart and claimed him as her own, I knew I have lost. But then I was asked to hold on. A photograph that could only tell me of what once was, is still saved on my cellphone's internal memory. Before he left, he made a promise that he would write or call. That letter never came, my phone never rang. And I waited against false hopes that he would return. I would receive occasional hi and hellos through our common friends where he was. But was that even enough to make me stop crying? Will it comfort me of how he is? Like a woman of the desert, I await by the dunes, hoping only for a second that it wasn't merely a mirage that I will be seeing, but the real thing. Months after he left, his brother asked for my help to set-up his wedding. He said that I shouldn't worry about him, his brother, for I will be seeing him then in a few months time. Another false hope. So I helped and waited. But I told myself, that even if he comes, it will never be the same. I then receive news that he has reunited with a former flame, a flame that in the long run was never extinguished. I was expecting that from the beginning when I saw a dream, an omen that would tell me to just move on and never look back. I never told my sister, or friends, for they will never understand. They would make me hope again. As the day of the wedding of his brother arrives, we meet. He runs towards me and asks me how I am. I tried to be cold, but that didn't stop him from introducing me to his parents, who welcomed me warmly. And as the wedding draws to an end, he walks towards me and my family and extends his hands to shake my father's. His old flame now comes rushing to his side. He introduces her with her first name only, but when my mother asked who she really was, she answered with all her glory that she was his girlfriend. My parents didn't flinch nor show any emotion. But my sister did that night. Telling me that I didn't deserve to get hurt. And hopefully, just hopefully, that they will both be happy despite what they did. I have tried to move forward. But something is stopping me. I envy those who have found their closure. I just pray I find my peace and someone to catch me as I fall.