just the way you are....

3 years ago as our daughter was sinking into a deep teen melodramatic funk- I did what any desperate mother would do...I told her she could have a puppy. The intention was to "just look" in hopes that somehow, though utterly cute and adorable- she'd realize that owning a pet was more responsibility than it was worth. But as most of you know, stepping into a pet shop with good intentions is just like shopping at Louis Vuitton on your 10 year anniversary- whether it's a purse or a puppy...the purchase is going to happen. So there she was, laying carelessly on the bottom of a dog pile with one eye curiously looking upwards as her sisters climbed, nipped, and enticed her to play though all the while- she was having none of it. Although aloof and a lot less spunky- we felt an instant connection to her soul. She seemed curious though reserved, loving but guarded, and needy yet independent. But one thing was clear- we'd found our girl. That day, Phife Liliukalani Dimaya officially became part of our family. Truthfully, I can't recall the last time I ate dinner in peace or didn't melt at the sight of a chihuahua. I've never taken so many damn walks in my life and haven't sobbed so uncontrollably until I watched Marley and Me. And while our family has always been close,  the addition of Phife- who's neither a canine wonder or social butterfly and whose main motivation lies in anything that looks or smells like meat- has taught us that being who you are is more than enough. Through her sweet but shy demeanor- she needs not lift a paw to make us love her anymore.

Which got me thinking about the other relationships in our lives- the human ones. And whether we truly accept one another for being who we are. Would I love my husband to be more domesticated and my daughter less hormonal? Of course! Could my siblings stand to be a pinch more motivated and my mom operate less on Filipino time? Absolutely! Could I learn to be more patient and less judgmental? Definitely! At the end of the day (and I mean- every single day), we're all a work in progress. Our goal in life isn't to strive for perfection or be who or what someone else expects. It's to get up and make genuine  connections; to enrich our lives and the people we choose to spend it with. It's to live authentically and know that for the people that matter- you need not lift a finger to love you anymore...just ask Phife! And you, how deep is your love? do tell...

all you need is _________?

Growing up in a large family with lots of cousins, friends, and friends of friends makes the world feel like a much smaller place. It's easy to feel popular when you're related to at least half the town along with scattered relatives on the west coast, parts of Michigan and of course, in the motherland itself. And while the perks are absolutely fantastic like the free ensamada at the Philippine Bread House thanks to Tita Baby and discounted wedding photography care of Tito Bong- there is a downside. If there's one thing growing up Filipino has taught me- its that thick skin is not optional. There's no such thing as beating around the bush or probing gingerly when it comes to sensitive topics. As far as sweet Tita Baby is concerned everything from your recent weight gain (umm- it's cold out there!) to your career choices ("why didn't you go to medical school?") are up for discussion. Observations and comparisons run amok within immediate families, extended relatives, and in the community. Who has the prettiest daughter? Who has the smartest son? Who's a doctor? Who's going to be a doctor? Who's going to marry a doctor? And so on...

But despite growing up amongst harsh criticism and nagging insecurities, which every teenager can attest to, whether your lola strongly suggests using Proactive or not, I'm just grateful to have grown out of giving a shit. As a mother, wife, and friend- I recognize the affect I have on future generations. And while everyone could use a thicker coat of skin- why not impact the world in a more positive way? With that said, I now choose my words wisely (at least most of the time), I listen with more patience and without judgment (except if you're being dumb), and just so you know- I got your back (whether you need me or not). Because as far as I'm concerned- spreading the love isn't optional! And you...what's your impact going to be? do tell...


**I dedicate this blog to my wonderful family, most especially my dad and lola. Thanks to their keen observations and wicked sense of humor- its made me who I am. The world is a lot less interesting and not quite as funny without you in it.**

she's like the wind...

As anyone close to me will tell you- I'm notorious for changing my mind (as seen in the new mm layout). One day- I'm a wedding planner and the next I'm jetting off to Hawaii to start a new life. Today, I'm a writer but who knows what tomorrow may bring. Stand up comedy? Hand modeling? I'm open to it all. In many ways- I live for the uncertainty in life. Currently I live in Arlington, Virginia where people are painfully politically correct, restaurants are fairly homogeneous, and if certainty is the bane of my existence- you can betcha bottom dollar- I'm starting to get a little f#@!king antsy!

In the past 5 years- I've moved to 3 states, 5 cities, 2 coasts, lived in 3 houses and 2 apartments. Yes, I officially HATE moving! But for a gal who lived in the same house for over 30 years- I guess a move or 2 wasn't going to kill me. And just for the sake of sounding cliche- why, yes- it did make me stronger. Every move meant a new job, new friends, and a different neighborhood. And while you can take the girl out of Jersey City...let me tell you- you can't take that girl with you everywhere you go. (I've had to tone down the profanity and vulgar hand gestures since) Change is inevitable whether we like it or not. And so maybe the thrill in life isn't about different cities or meeting new people. Perhaps all we really know for certain is that we'll never know what tomorrows gonna bring. (though one more move isn't going to kill anyone!) And you...what do you live for? do tell...

the benefits of doubt...

Some call me cynical while others deem me cautious. Growing up in the inner city- being leery of scam artists, liars, and crooks is as good a defense mechanism as knowing how to throw down at a school yard brawl. Being both a participant and a spectator at many an old school melee complete with knuckle rings, Vaseline, and aluminum bats- can you really blame a girl for being so guarded? In my day, (I cannot believe I'm old enough to write that!) street smarts wasn't just about knowing where your ass shouldn't be after dark, it was about instincts. And more importantly, trusting them. Over the years, I've moved further from those humble beginnings. Coincidentally, to places where people never look over their shoulders or have ever ordered Chinese takeout through a bullet proof window. And though its been an arduous transition, I must admit, taking the dog for an evening stroll without the threat of being jumped and/or mugged is truly a novel idea!

But, no matter how far or how long I've journeyed from home- the one thing I've never lost are my gut instincts. Its learned everything from the past, keeps me focused on the future, and weeds out the minutiae. And though I live in a more homogeneous community riddled with over achievers and overpriced chicken wings, as a true city girl at heart- I can still sense bad intentions from a mile away; I know a liar when I see one, and honey, cross me and I wouldn't even think twice about taking off the gold hoop earrings and slapping on the Vaseline! And you...when in doubt- who do you trust? Do tell...

carolina on my mind...

A few days prior to a long awaited weekend getaway, in which I would bask in the hot Carolina sun (with heaping doses of Maui Babe), sip margaritas poolside (like a drunk housewife), and live it up like a trust fund baby (think Suri Cruise)- I was rudely reminded that hurricane Irene was fast approaching with a vengeance. To add to mother natures cruel way of messing with me- DC was hit with a 5.8 magnitude earthquake 3 days before the trip. Truthfully, there aren't many things that prohibit me from getting what I want. But 2 natural disasters in the same week?! The visions of cabana cocktails and harmful sun exposure was fading faster than my base tan. I mean, who was I to challenge 40mph winds and shifting tectonic plates?

Between Sam Champion predicting a category 4 hurricane and my Debbie Downer co-worker gleefully singing the Eurythmics classic, "Here comes the rain again" on a daily basis (you crotchety whale)..our situation looked more than bleak. Without Greek god powers or a voodoo rain dance- canceling the trip seemed eminent. Unless of course, there was hope or at least a glimmer of it; hell, at this point- give me a speck. And so against the advice of the weather channel- we packed our bags, checked into our flight, and arrived at the airport early (which, on Filipino time means right before boarding). It turns out that hoping for the best, turning off the news, and tuning out the haters was the smartest thing we'd done all week. Luckily, Irene bypassed the coast and we were met with nothing but sunny skies, southern hospitality, and vodka infused Arnold Palmers. I suppose no one can ever really predict how things will turn out regardless of the world we live in. In the end, when there's nothing left...there's always hope. Or at least I hope so. And you? do tell...

sugar and spice...

Listen, there’s no question- I think my mother did a fine job raising her family. As a single mother with 3 kids, a full time job and her own aspirations- where she excelled, like many other Filipino parents, was at working 16 hour shifts and enforcing discipline thru the use of kitchen gadgets and plastic hangers. While in the present day striking your child with a wooden spoon may land you probation and a day in family court, my mom still vehemently proclaims- “That was not neglect!” in her high pitched Visayan accent, “that was love!”  Well, call it what you like. All I know is- I don’t mess with the woman. And while I credit Lil (my mom) for passing down such lovely traits as “the look of death” and a disregard for public humiliation of teenagers- which, ironically made me a stronger person; I do wish she taught me a thing or two about being vulnerable. Being raised by an alpha female- there are only 2 options. Kill. Or be killed (figuratively, of course).

 

Therefore things like compassion and kindness are more self taught rather than being a part of my genetic makeup. When dealing with a frustrating situation- my natural tendency is to want to incite physical harm.When dealt the blow of rejection- the obvious solution is to find a sharp object. And when backed into a corner- you go right for the jugular. But truthfully, a little bit of reflection and a deeper sense of self awareness would've served me far better than the impermeable fortress I built to protect my heart. As a modern day mother- I'm less inclined to work a minute over an 8 hour shift and don't feel the urge to grab a utensil every time I lose it. And instead of flying off the handle...I encourage my daughter to just handle things. And while my emotional maturity has a lot of catching up to do- I take comfort knowing I'm only 38 on paper. And you...are you still a kid at heart? (figuratively, of course) do tell...

**this is an ode to the greatest woman I know. Lil- you're one in a billion!! (literally!)

voices carry....

After an 8 month hiatus and having officially adapted (very well, I may add) back to my old mainland ways (think- road rage and cursing like you really f@!#ing mean it) I'd say it's time to put the fingers to the keyboard and get write on it! I've always had a bit of a love/hate relationship with all my ambitious follies but none gives me greater satisfaction than to write. A former boss once asked me what I'd like to do with the rest of my life and I told him, "If i could get paid for just being myself- that would be a dream come true." Now, what that really means and how it translates to a viable career...I haven't the foggiest. But what I do know is this...I can either continue to work my menial 9-5 with a bunch of middle aged women obsessed with Kashi meals and passive aggressiveness; who coincidentally, consider climbing 2 flights of stairs a workout (outta my way, granny!) OR.....

Yes, clearly- it is time to come out of hiding (mostly due to writers block and a heaping dose of self loathing- I really do hate those voices!) and start living the dream. How, when, or WTF?!...are TBD.  And so, it's times like this when I remember my dad saying, "It always starts with the first step." So, here I go. But not without the self loather creeping in- "But, but-  you always say that!" And in true Leslie fashion- where rebuffs are a mix of eloquence and expletives...well, we all know where this is going. But- here's something I don't know- how do YOU respond to the voices in your head? do tell...


**to all those that have encouraged me along the way...thank you, from the bottom of my heart!