As soon as I got home, I organized all the veggies and started cooking what I could, but I was too tired to finish everything. For the rest of the ingredients, I just ordered them online with same-day delivery. I cooked enough for a couple of days and froze them. I decided to stick to the same meal plan for a couple of weeks so it wouldn’t be so tedious.
Sadly, I still had to cook the remaining meals in the mornings after my shift, which defeats the purpose of meal prepping, so I had my sister cook some of them instead. I also realized I need silicone molds or containers to store my frozen food—something I hadn’t thought about before starting meal prep. Lesson learned: make sure to have enough containers, and meal prepping should ideally be done on your day off, lol.
I also realized that meal prepping can be quite costly since you’re preparing over aweek’s worth of meals, but the advantage is that I’ve moved away from food deliveries, which were a major source of unplanned expenses. For meal prep to work, you need to set a non-negotiable budget, have enough containers to freeze your meals, and, above all, have enough time to prep, which should be done on your rest days!
Since I work nights (Central Time), I make two meals and one snack for my 8-hour shift, which was honestly a great idea because I don’t have to keep thinking about what to cook the next day for work. I work from home, I know, but I like things organized. Where I live, we don’t have meal prep services with vegetarian or vegan options like in the UK or India, where they have tiffin meal services you can pay for weekly or monthly. Oh, how I wish we had those!
Anyway, I’m still figuring this whole meal prep thing out, so I might stick to the same menu on alternate days—maybe the same meals for three days, then switch for two days, and so on.
On September 21, there was a nationwide rally demanding accountability from corrupt government officials who pocketed funds meant for flood control projects. Instead of serving the people, they used taxpayers’ hard-earned money to fund their lavish lifestyles, while ordinary Filipinos are left wading through floods, risking leptospirosis, and struggling just to make ends meet. It’s infuriating. How do these people even sleep at night knowing they’re stealing from the nation? Every month, a huge part of my salary goes to taxes, only to end up in the pockets of thieves. It’s unacceptable.
The people’s anger is justified—especially when these officials can escape floods by hopping on a helicopter while everyone else suffers. Just to share, my Dad served as a government official for more than three decades. He chose to retire early rather than join the corrupt system.
He believed that being a public servant meant serving the people, not serving oneself. Sadly, his honesty made him a target. His colleagues, who thrived on corruption, conspired against him because he refused to feed his family with stolen money. I still remember my mother telling me about the day people came to our home with a sack of cold cash to bribe my dad. He sent it back without hesitation, even though it meant receiving death threats. But he stood his ground, because doing the right thing mattered more.Anyway, before I get too fired up, let’s shift gears—it’s the first of October, and I’m excited for Halloween! I already planned a trip to the candy store to stock up on treats for the neighborhood kids. Last year, they were thrilled because I gave out goodies with Halloween stickers, and I can’t wait to do it again this time.
And yes—the Christmas breeze is already in the air. 🎃🎄Ⓕ
It’s just a few weeks before we welcome the *ber* months—the start of the longest holiday season and, for me, the most magical time of the year. The third quarter has always felt like my season of luck. For months I had been waiting, almost impatiently, for an opportunity that felt right for me. Eventually, I let go, trusted the process, prayed, and surrendered everything to divine timing. Freelancing was supposed to keep me afloat until the end of the year, and I thought I’d figure out something new by next year. But then—just when I least expected it—an opportunity came knocking.
It surprised me, especially since the remote and work-from-home world has become so saturated. That’s when it hit me: when something isn’t meant for you, it only means there’s either a greater purpose ahead or something better waiting around the corner. And this time, that “something better” finally arrived. My sister always says I’m lucky, but what she doesn’t see are the struggles I quietly endure, choosing to stay calm and absorb the chaos on my own. Nothing has ever been easy—it’s either I rely on my charm or on the strength of my CV (thankfully, both seem to work).
Recently, I made a small but life-changing decision: I moved my bed into my home office. It turned out to be one of the best choices I’ve made. It’s the quietest part of the house, and now I no longer have to move from room to room during breaks. I’ve been craving peace and quiet more than ever, and this setup gives me exactly that. My sleep is better too—partly because of the colder weather, but also because I’m away from the street noise that used to wake me up so easily. I once took a test that showed I’m on “high alert” for emergencies. It’s not extreme, but it explains why even the smallest sounds can disturb my rest. And let’s not forget—my old bedroom was right beside the Catio. With five cats prowling and playing at night, sleep was close to impossible. Living with them sometimes made me feel like I had become nocturnal too.
Looking back, I realize manifestation has always worked for me, but not without action and a clear game plan. I’ve always believed we weave our own fate. Money doesn’t just fall from trees—hard work and determination never fail to open doors. Amen! Ⓕ
Netflix raised its monthly subscription fee again recently, so I feel like I need to get my money’s worth. That means binge-watching is a must, and weekends are the perfect time since that’s when I’m free. This darn streaming site keeps increasing prices despite having a pretty limited selection. Honestly, I’m only keeping the subscription to stay on the loop in this fast-paced world.
Anyway, I watched quite a few movies over the weekend because Netflix sent me notifications—they were already on my to-watch list.
🌟🌟🌟
Untold (2025)
Plot:
My Oxford Year is a romantic drama based on the novel of the same name. It follows Anna De La Vega, an ambitious American student who puts off a high-paying job to study Victorian poetry at Oxford University. There, she meets Jamie Davenport, a charming local who turns out to be her professor.
Despite an initial “enemies-to-lovers” vibe and an agreement to keep things casual, they fall deeply in love. But the tone of the film shifts when Anna discovers the real reason behind Jamie’s distant behavior: he has a rare and terminal form of cancer. From then on, the movie transitions from a lighthearted romance into an emotional tearjerker. Anna is faced with a tough decision—return to the U.S. to pursue her career or stay with Jamie during his final months. In the end, she stays, and the film follows their journey through his illness and eventual death. Anna ultimately honors Jamie's memory by living out her dreams, inspired by their time together.
Thoughts:
The film was okay. The beginning felt like a typical rom-com, nothing groundbreaking. But once the plot took that dramatic turn, it started giving off The Fault in Our Stars or Five Feet Apart vibes—the whole “we’re in love but someone is dying” formula, which made the ending feel pretty predictable. What really didn’t work for me was the lack of chemistry between the leads. Both actors are undeniably attractive, but Sofia Carson (who played Anna) had way better on-screen chemistry with Nicholas Galitzine in the 2022 film Purple Hearts. It’s not the sad ending—I just felt the whole dynamic between the characters was a miss.
🌟🌟🌟🌟
"Wall to Wall" (2025)
Plot:
Untold is a psychological horror film that explores the dark consequences of ambition and moral compromise. It follows Vivian Vera, a well-known investigative journalist whose reputation is built on sensational exposes. However, much of her success stems from unethical behavior, including fabricating details about a brutal massacre to gain fame.
Years later, Vivian is assigned to interview a former security chief involved in that same massacre, recently released from prison. This assignment triggers a series of terrifying events. Vivian begins to suffer from hallucinations and is haunted by the ghosts of the massacre victims—disfigured and seemingly buried in concrete. The spirits begin to torment her, and people connected to her past lies start dying gruesome deaths.
The film delves into themes of fake news, self-deception, and the price of compromised ethics. As Vivian's sanity unravels, the full extent of her past transgressions is revealed, including another earlier and equally disturbing act of fabrication. Eventually, she must choose between exposing the truth and destroying her career or continuing to hide and risk being consumed by her guilt and torment. It’s a chilling mix of horror, thriller, and social commentary on journalistic integrity.
Thoughts:
This was a solid film. It had the eerie feel of a Japanese horror movie—dark, disturbing, and full of ambiguity. The cinematography was also impressive. The raw, gritty texture of the visuals matched the film’s unsettling tone perfectly. The storyline really messes with your mind, constantly blurring the line between reality and nightmare. The pacing was sharp, with unexpected twists that kept things interesting. If you’re easily scared, you might want to skip this one. But if you enjoy psychological horror with depth, it’s worth watching.
🌟🌟🌟🌟
Plot:
Also known as "84m²", the 2025 Korean psychological thriller "Wall to Wall" explores the dark side of homeownership and urban life in modern Korea. The film follows Woo-sung, a man who invests his entire life savings and takes on a massive loan to purchase a luxurious apartment in Seoul. However, his dream home quickly turns into a living nightmare when the real estate market plummets and he's tormented by relentless, unexplained noises from within his walls.
Thoughts:
The film's plot is refreshingly unique, drawing you in from the very beginning with its fast-paced, engaging narrative. Woo-sung's obsession with the mysterious sounds leads to a tense conflict with his neighbors and a desperate search for the truth. His mental and financial state unravels as he discovers the noise is not just a nuisance but is tied to a larger conspiracy involving a journalist, a corrupt resident, and the building's shoddy construction.
While the ending may leave some viewers wanting more, the journey is undeniably captivating. The film does a brilliant job of building suspense and keeping you hooked, despite the seemingly simple premise. The exceptional performances by the South Korean cast, who fully commit to their roles, elevate the story and make it a must-watch. Ultimately, "Wall to Wall" is a compelling exploration of greed, class disparity, and the psychological toll of crushing debt. Ⓕ
It’s been a heavy couple of months, and honestly, I don’t even know where to begin. Last June, we lost our 13-year-old ginger cat to old age. Then, in July, another heartbreak followed—this time it was our 14-year-old dog, Yumi. I didn’t see it coming. Losing one pet was already difficult; losing another so soon after was devastating. Just when I was starting to process the first loss, the second one came like a wave I couldn’t brace for. They were part of our lives for more than a decade. The house feels quieter now, emptier in places that used to be full. It was a sad stretch of time. I’m grateful I was preoccupied with work and life; otherwise, I might have spiraled into something darker. So far, 2025 hasn’t been kind. To honor them, we transformed a quiet corner of the house into a tiny sort of shrine. Their urns sit there now—a place of peace, memory, and gratitude. I even ordered an updated collar for Yumi with her name on it, along with tags for our other pets. Sadly, it arrived too late. She was already gone. So, I placed the collar around her urn instead—a small gesture to hold on to what little I could. Life is unpredictable. Sometimes I wish I could erase certain memories altogether—the ones tied to loss, grief. But memories, even painful ones, shape us in ways we don’t always understand.
On Disappearing and the Johatsu Phenomenon
Lately, I’ve been reading about a strange but fascinating concept in Japan called *Johatsu*—literally translated as “evaporated people.” These are individuals who choose to disappear from their lives entirely, often due to overwhelming debt, job loss, or broken relationships. At night, they’re assisted by “night movers,” companies that help them vanish without a trace. When I first heard of it, I thought, *Would people really go that far?* But, as I learn more about it, I’ve come to understand the impulse. It’s not always about giving up. Sometimes it’s about choosing to begin again—away from the noise, the expectations, the hurt. I’ve thought about disappearing too—not in a dramatic way, but more like quietly stepping out of a life that no longer felt like mine. It wasn’t because I’d given up, but because I had reached a point where I questioned my purpose. That existential moment where you ask, *Why am I still here? What else is left for me to do?* But then, I remember—we don’t get to override the timeline we’ve been given. Maybe there’s more I’m meant to see, do, or learn. Maybe the reason I’m still here is something I haven’t discovered yet. I’ve made peace with not having all the answers. Disappearing may seem like surrender, but maybe for some, it's a form of self-preservation. Still, I realize that unless I’ve walked in someone’s shoes, I can't truly understand the weight they carry. Everyone has their own threshold for pain and their own way of surviving it.
Of Monsoons and Misgivings
While grieving, we’ve also been battling relentless monsoon rains and rolling power outages. Where I live, the past month has been soaked in storm after storm, with barely a day of sunlight. The constant power interruptions are exhausting. It’s hard to function, let alone work or feel human, when everything feels waterlogged and powerless—literally and emotionally. Even with backup power, you’re limited. Solar panels are no match for weeks of overcast skies. It’s frustrating, to say the least. At times, I find myself questioning whether this cycle will ever truly end—not just the changing weather, but the deeper, systemic failures that continue to worsen our situation. The corruption within our government, the misuse of public funds, the absence of long-term planning—it all feels like we’re trapped in a vast, inescapable void.
As an adult, I still hate the gloomy, depressing feeling brought on by the constant rain. The sticky sensation of rain-soaked clothes or wet feet is something I just can’t explain—it’s icky. The smell of damp things is especially unpleasant, more so when I used to work in an office where the air conditioning was freezing cold, supposedly to "match" the outside temperature or something like that.
Unfortunately, the rainy season up north is frequent and feels eternal, usually starting around June and lasting until October. As of now, there’s no typhoon, but the rain and thunderstorms are said to be caused by the influence of Tropical Storm Chantal, according to the weather report. Rainy days just give off this dystopian vibe—if you know what I mean.
I enjoy scary stuff, but anything involving the extinction of the human race hits differently—especially when the details are disturbingly specific. Horror films don’t make me anxious, but predictions? Not for the faint of heart.
I don’t even know how I ended up going from ranting about rainy days to talking about Nostradamus and apocalyptic predictions. ಠ‸ಠ
As for life updates, old age is taking a toll on our 14-year-old dog, Yumi, a Shih Tzu and Japanese Spitz mix, which saddens me. My sister and I have been making frequent trips to the vet. Yumi is a small dog, weighing only 3 pounds, and it breaks my heart to see her struggling with health issues. It makes me reflect on how challenging it is to be human and live longer than our pets. We must cherish their short lifespans and care for them as we would a family member. Life teaches us many lessons about being a pet owner, even if we've cared for pets for as long as we can remember. One important lesson is the value of getting them checked annually, regardless of how healthy they seem, as hidden illnesses can emerge as they age. It’s unfortunate, but it’s true. We shouldn't wait until they are sick to take them to the vet. Sigh. Long story short, the trip to the vet didn't go well due to some unfortunate news from Yumi's bloodwork and tests. However, I’m not one to give up easily; I want to fight for her and do everything I can to prolong her life, even if her light is dimming and flickering. I feel a bit like Cameron Diaz's character in the movie "My Sister's Keeper"—I refuse to accept defeat. I will only stop fighting when all hope is lost and when those who are suffering no longer have the strength to continue.
Anyway, moving on, rainy days are here again, and as usual, I find myself longing for sunny days whenever this happens. ಠ_ಠ
I'm taking some time off before I go back to the grind. Just a week—enough to declutter my workspace and my head, to delete the cache in my brain, so to speak. I realized I hadn’t washed my work seat cushion and desk mat in ages, simply because I was too busy. So I finally tossed them into the washer. I also printed out packaging materials for my little online crafty shop, which I’ve neglected for years. I want to rekindle my passion for creating nifty, crafty things again. I want to be still for a while, to enjoy the quiet days. I’ve grown so accustomed to chaos that I’ve become numb to it.
Since the passing of our senior cat—who my sister and I loved dearly—I’ve come to realize how short life is. A decade can feel like days when you’re constantly busy. I wish I’d spent more time with him during his last few days. I remember how his eyes would light up, and he’d try to stand on his frail legs when he saw me. I fed him, talked to him, and told him it was okay to rest—that we’d take care of his adopted sister, our calico cat, Katsumi. Looking back, I think we should’ve brought in a second cat much sooner than we did. We underestimated his capacity to care for another feline. He was the kindest protector and brother. I miss him terribly, but I know my new job will keep me occupied. Still, I’ve promised myself: never again will I say I “don’t have time.” Because time slips away so fast.As I write this, Katsumi is lounging on my chest. I suppose I just want to enjoy my morning coffee and these slower days. My sister's fascination with finding cute and useful kitchen tools has been amusing—she recently bought a gimbap maker, which has sparked my interest in making those delicious rice rolls wrapped in seaweed. I’m doing my best to resist the urge to shop indulgently online, especially since we’ve just converted the utility kitchen into a pantry to house all our kitchen bits, bobs, and groceries.
There are so many things I want to do, and I don’t even know where to start. I'm genuinely excited to clear out the mental clutter—the miscellaneous tabs open in my brain. The question is: how do I even begin? Ⓕ
My heart is heavy as I write this, but I feel the need to document it before time dulls the memory. My sister and I just lost our beloved senior cat, Atari, who had been with us for 13 years. A week ago, he was at the vet, treated with IV fluids, and sent home. Though he was still eating, his health was fragile due to age and a chronic bacterial infection.
Yesterday was my day off. I woke early, as I always do, to feed the cats. Atari was isolated to keep him calm while he recovered. I called his name to check on him, but he didn’t respond. My heart sank when I touched him—he was cold and stiff. I believe he passed between midnight and 2 a.m. Breaking the news to my sister was heartbreaking. Ever since we lost our mother, death—whether human or pet—has been deeply traumatic for me. Still, I summoned the strength to tell her. She gently cleaned up his space and wrapped his body in a blanket while I sat there in shock. Though we had tried to prepare ourselves, nothing truly readies you for loss.
Too devastated to bury him myself, I searched online and found Fur-ever Pet Cremation through Facebook comment threads. Despite not having an official page, their reviews and reasonable pricing gave me comfort. I contacted them, and they offered pickup and delivery—something I was grateful for. They handled everything with such care. When they picked him up, the reality of it sank in. Later, they sent photos of him peacefully laid out in a small funeral setup and at the cremation table. I don’t usually cry, but seeing those images broke me.
Their service included a framed photo, a vial with his hair and whiskers, a stainless urn with his picture, a cremation certificate, wallet-sized photos, and—if requested—an engraved memorial stone with his paw print. These thoughtful touches helped ease some of the pain.
That morning, my sister and I noticed a strong floral scent in the air—something we’ve never used in our home. It lingered for minutes, then disappeared. Maybe it was a sign. We believe it was our mom, coming to guide Atari across the rainbow bridge.
My final words to him: Run free, my love. You did great.
I've been doing a lot of thinking lately, and honestly, I feel like I really need a change in my routine and my life in general. I get so tired of the same old stuff every day, and it’s starting to wear me down. It’s not good for me—I find myself feeling low and even a bit depressed, which isn’t great because I tend to shut myself off from the world when that happens.I’ve tried taking breaks from everything, but nothing seems to help. It feels like I’m losing my creative spark, and being stuck in one place is really tough for me. I’ve been considering a bunch of options—maybe studying, working abroad, or just living alone for a while. Sometimes it feels like living in this country is a lost cause because nothing ever changes.
Then, out of nowhere, a new
kitten showed up, running from some aggressive stray dogs. My siblings and I couldn’t just ignore it, so we took in this little furball, making it our sixth cat—another black one, too. It felt like a sign, like the universe was saying, “You can’t leave just yet; you’ve got more to do.” I mean, how could I turn my back on a living being that needs help?
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| Kohl, the 6th |
That moment hit me hard. My struggles seem so small compared to what these animals go through just to survive. It made me rethink my complaints. Still, I really want change. I want to feel alive again and find a reason to stick around. I wish I could see some hope in this country that often feels hopeless, run by corrupt officials and people who take advantage of others.
But I know I need to keep pushing forward.
I guess that’s just how it goes. As you get older, you tend to want your birthday to be as low-key as possible. I even avoid posting about it on social media—I honestly hate when people find out and greet me. It feels awkward, to be honest. Maybe it’s just me, but I don’t like giving any hint that it’s my birthday. I’d rather people not bother, which might seem strange to some.
That said, I’m still grateful—for another calendar year, and for every single day I get to live it.
You might be wondering why we’ve blanket-covered the house with CCTV. Well, we used to have a neighbor—a foreigner with white supremacy complex—who hated any animal sounds, especially from dogs. He and his wife even installed a device that was barely audible to humans but extremely disturbing to animals because of their heightened sense of hearing. Since he wasn’t a resident and was very unpleasant, he eventually left because we kept a close watch on him. He was known for throwing stones at our dog, and we suspect he also poisoned the dog across the street because it barked loudly. Unfortunately, since we didn’t have CCTV back then, we couldn’t prove it. It was a true injustice to that poor dog, especially with its neglectful owner.
Returning to the catio, our goal is to teach the neighboring kids the proper way to care for pets—by loving them equally and not treating them like they don't matter. Animals are living creatures with rights, and they deserve respect. Sadly, in this country, the punishment for animal cruelty is much less severe than in other places.
Now, back to the catio again: We reached out to professionals who build catios and were quoted sky-high prices just for a simple enclosure. It seems that when women ask about these things, people assume they know nothing about carpentry and try to take advantage by quoting double the actual cost. But we didn’t fall for that. We opted for a much more reasonable price, paying half of what was originally quoted. The work was minimal, and since my sister and I planned to furnish it ourselves, there was no need to build a grand structure—just a cat enclosure!
After several weeks, it’s finally complete, and the cats are thrilled. I added faux grass carpet and aerial plants since real ones would wither in the heat anyway, and I’m not exactly a plant expert—my green thumb extends only to succulents, which have a lifespan of about six months because they don’t require much water. My siblings also added Buri curtains to block out some of the sun’s heat and to give the catio a “Zen” touch.
What can I say? The cats are ecstatic. They frolic and prance around as they please. They now even have a gigantic cat tower, yet they still prefer the old, inexpensive, tattered, and ramshackle one. I don’t understand it. I guess they don’t care for anything grand and prefer life’s simpler pleasures. 🐱
Speaking of science, I once watched a documentary about a child with a terminal illness. Her father, a scientist, decided to preserve her head in a cryogenic tank after she passed away, hoping that one day it could be attached to a different body, preserving her memories and brain. I think "crazy" is an understatement because if the human body can reject internal organs like a heart or kidneys, what would happen with a human head, which contains a complex brain and countless nerves? The mere thought of it makes me think of Frankenstein.
Moving on, last month, I visited my doctor and requested a prescription because my hormones make me feel very down and even borderline depressed when I'm exhausted. He gave me a medication that, upon research, turned out to be a form of Prozac. I was a bit scared at first since it’s an antidepressant. Anyway, I tried it for a month, and I was surprised at how emotionally numbing it was. It was supposed to help me sleep, but it didn’t really address my insomnia; however, it had a significant impact on my emotions.
As I mentioned, it was emotionally numbing—you feel happy on the surface but become somewhat cold. If I had to describe it, it’s like losing track of time and becoming mechanical, as if you’re standing in the middle of the road while everything and everyone around you is in time-lapse mode, and you’re the only one who isn’t. It did help me focus, but I started losing touch with people. I could go an entire day without talking to anyone, and it would feel like just a few hours passed. I’m not sure if it’s a good or bad thing, but I kind of enjoyed being emotionally numb at times. It seemed to elevate my “happy hormones,” and at the same time, the world around me kept moving, with no sense of time or space.
Then I had this realization: science is so powerful that it can already control human emotions. There’s a pill for almost anything, but the benefits they bring can be temporary. That realization can be pretty daunting.
Yesterday, I went out with my sister to watch a movie and run some errands. Lately, I’ve been enjoying watching movies, especially during the first show of the day—the theater is so empty it feels like it’s all yours.
Speaking of festivities, the mall was vibrant during the Chinese New Year celebrations. Sweetened rice cakes were everywhere, and red lanterns adorned every corner. I was hoping to see a dragon dance, but there was none. I miss watching them because back when I lived in the south, the building where I used to work—being Chinese-owned—held grand dragon dances every year. It was such a spectacle. The performances were colorful, and the loud drums were said to drive away evil spirits—and maybe even mosquitoes.
Last week, my sister and I watched *The Presence.* We’re both horror movie fanatics, so whenever a new horror film hits the cinemas, we check the schedule and go for the first time slot to avoid crowds. Unfortunately, I didn’t enjoy *The Presence*—it was boring and not scary enough. Maybe I keep watching horror films because I’m rarely scared by them. 
Yesterday, we watched *The Nuns,* starring Song Hye Kyo, a well-known South Korean actress. I think this was the first time I saw her in a horror movie, which piqued our interest. It wasn’t too scary, but it was incredibly dark since it tackled exorcism—a topic that has always been controversial in Catholicism. Before the movie, we had lunch at a restaurant in the mall that wasn’t too crowded. We asked the staff if they served vegetarian dishes, and I noticed they struggled to come up with options. It’s surprising how many people don’t realize that tofu is vegetarian. In the end, we had spicy tofu and fried rice, which was delicious and filling. The restaurant’s ambiance was lovely, and the cool air from the open glass door made the dining experience even cozier. The walls were adorned with paintings by local artists, which added to the charm.
Back to the Chinese New Year—2025 is the Year of the Wood Snake. This year symbolizes wisdom, transformation, and personal growth, with the Wood element bringing flexibility and renewal.
2024 is almost coming to a close. It’s been a good year—not a great one, though—because, like any other year, it had its own challenges. As for me, this year was alright. My siblings and I adopted three strays and gave them a “fur-ever” home, which was quite unexpected. The first cat my sister and I adopted after moving up north is now 12 years old, and it took us 10 long years before we had another. That second cat is a sweet, 2-year-old Calico kitten from our neighborhood. I’d always wanted a Calico ever since I saw a massive 3D billboard in Japan’s Shibuya Crossing on social media. It featured a Calico cat staring at pedestrians, much like a real cat enjoying the view from a window, and I found it absolutely adorable. 
Most of my wishes came true this year. However, my siblings and I had been hoping for a cat of a different color, which we still don’t have. We didn’t want to buy one, as we’re against purchasing animals when so many strays need homes. Unexpectedly, my eldest sister in the south mentioned a cat family—a black mother cat and her three kittens—that had suddenly appeared at her house. My niece began feeding them since they visited frequently. When she sent us pictures, one kitten immediately caught our attention. Its eye color and fur made it clear it was a Siamese, a breed uncommon in the Philippines but often seen roaming temples in Thailand.Sadly, one of the kittens, a Calico, passed away for reasons we couldn’t determine—maybe she was the weakest of the litter. Heartbroken, we decided to adopt the remaining three cats, including the mama. We arranged for a pet transport service to bring them from the south to the north, which took about 12 hours (because of the pets they pick up and drop off to their destinations during stops) but was a smooth and comfortable journey for them. Now, they’re all healthy and happy. This year, we had Luna, the mama cat, spayed, and our project for 2025 is to have the two boy kittens neutered to give them a better and longer life.
To wrap up 2024, I’d say I explored some new places. I checked out a new Korean coffee shop in town, took a last-minute trip with my sister, and revived my love for collecting things—fridge magnets and Pop Mart’s Hirono and Skullpanda figures. I recently got a couple of Skullpandas, and I was ecstatic about how eccentric they were. Another highlight of the year was letting go of old grudges. I forgave people who had wronged me, even if they never apologized. I realized I don’t want to harbor hatred—it’s just not worth it. I don’t have New Year’s resolutions, but I’ve promised myself to take better care of my health in 2025. I also plan to focus more on myself instead of pouring all my time and energy into others while neglecting my own needs. Next year, I want to prioritize my well-being, do things that make my soul happy, and treat myself more. I’ve given my best to others—it’s time to do the same for myself. So, goodbye, 2024. You weren’t the best, but you weren’t the worst either. I’m hopeful that 2025 will be brighter—not just for me but for my country as well. Despite the challenges our nation has faced in recent years, I believe this too shall pass. I remain hopeful that someday, new leadership will bring positive change.Here’s to a better year ahead. 🎇
And let’s not even talk about the season. A supposedly short trip to the supermarket drains me because of the swarm of people. The once-cold climate now feels like summer, not because of the locals, but because of the influx of people from out of town.
Anyway, I decided to stay home instead of spending my day off outside. The sheer number of people makes me feel like water melting—I just want to seep through pipes to avoid being squished. So, I’ll keep myself busy shopping for groceries online, even if the delivery fees are hefty. It’s just more convenient during this season. Let’s face it: a trip to the local shops isn’t worth it right now. Instead, I’ll focus on planning our holiday tablescapes and menu.
Sissy has already conceptualized our holiday tablescape, but I know it’ll change at the last minute—fickle-mindedness always wins with women. Honestly, I do the same with my outfits. No matter how carefully planned they are the day before, I often change my mind minutes before leaving, obsessing over which color combinations match my shoes or earrings. For now, we’re going with purple, bronze, and gold for the tablescape. I bought transparent charger plates, purple table napkins, and a tablecloth to match, but something still feels off. It doesn’t spark joy, so we’ll probably need to spruce it up—it’s looking a bit sad and outdated.
December is, without a doubt, the most expensive month of the year. Blame it on culture, religion, and commercialism. If the Spaniards hadn’t colonized the Philippines, we probably wouldn’t even have Christmas! Gift-giving isn’t mandatory, but let’s be honest—where’s the Christmas spirit without it? It’s like an unspoken obligation, even though no one outright says it’s required. On another note, my senior cat has been quite sickly lately. He’s so stubborn, always licking the floor for some odd reason. Cats are truly strange creatures. I’ve been begging him to postpone his sickness because the traffic to the vet is insane, not to mention the hefty vet bills. Senior cats are a lot like senior humans—they’re stubborn and seem to take joy in breaking the rules. Tell them not to do something, and they’ll do it even more, as if the world is ending.
This year, I’ve been the laziest when it comes to Christmas shopping. I guess it’s because everything can be bought online now, so the thrill of asking people what they want is gone—they can just get it themselves. Maybe someday, everything will just magically appear before our eyes, given how fast technology is advancing.
As for me, my happiness doesn’t come from grand things but from tiny trinkets—bits and bobs of cute stuff. I don’t even know what they are, but I’ll recognize them when I see them.
Anyway, I decided to make the most of my couple of days off and traveled six hours away with little sleep and no clear plans—no idea where to go or what to do. I asked my sister to book our accommodation the night before, although I had already packed my bags two days ahead, thinking I might travel soon, just not knowing where. When I told her I was going, she said she couldn’t let me travel alone. So technically, she was compelled to come with me on this trip because I hadn’t slept enough, and it could lead to a series of unfortunate events, especially after a graveyard shift. Off we went on this impromptu trip, purchasing tickets just minutes before the bus left.
The 6-hour journey was supposed to be grueling, but my squeamishness about traveling after such a long time took over. I barely slept the whole time, maybe because of the Vietnamese coffee my sister let me have hours before. I wasn't in the best state during the trip because I kept forcing myself to stay awake to enjoy the beautiful view from the window. The cold, fresh air from the window tempted me to sleep, but I kept telling myself, “Snap out of it! You can't sleep right now!” Additionally, there was a guy in the row ahead of us who kept trying to make small talk and seemed to be anticipating us getting off the bus at the stopover, presumably to talk more. While I don't mean to be unfriendly, I'm genuinely uncomfortable around strangers. My upbringing in the South taught me to be cautious, and frankly, as an introvert, I just don't enjoy engaging in small talk with people I don't know especially when I'm fighting the urge to sleep. Day 1 officially began when we arrived just after 2 PM. After more than six hours without sleep and no breakfast, we finally reached our destination, but somehow, exhaustion didn’t get in the way. After locating our accommodation and paying tourist fees, we went to a trending spot that we found on TikTok. We didn’t pick it because it was famous—honestly,
we couldn’t care less about that—but because it served vegan/vegetarian dishes, which are still uncommon in this country for some reason.
The food was great, with big portions that left us feeling like we had eaten all day. It was a bit on the pricey side, as expected with mostly vegan and vegetarian dishes. What I loved about the cafe was the view and the rustic aesthetic. Plus, the people running it were very personable. It felt like a café/souvenir shop, which was cool.The last time we visited this town was 16 years ago, and a lot has changed. The roads are better now, and there are many hole-in-the-wall cafés and endless places to stay, so you can pick one upon arrival. What keeps this town's charm intact is that they don’t allow outsiders to own property or businesses, keeping things local, which is a good thing in many ways. Despite the progress, the town’s old charm remained.
Day 2: We decided to have breakfast at a restaurant just a short walk from our lodging. The place had been around for a long time and had expanded. It used to be a small diner made of pine wood, but now it’s four times its original size and has a fine-dining vibe with an American country home feel. The photographs of the natives, which tell the town’s history, are still there. We were a bit disappointed that there weren’t many vegetarian options on the menu, but since we were famished, we had to make do with what was available. The town has a few places with vegetarian options, but they’re mostly located on the outskirts.
After breakfast, we took a walk for some fresh air and also figured out where to purchase tickets for our return trip the next day. We visited a church we had gone to a long time ago, and not much had changed. It was an Episcopalian church, so we just stopped by since it was open to the public, but it was empty. The first time we went there, it was summer, so it was packed. November is the best time to visit because it’s not tourist season, just lots of backpackers from different countries.
By noon, we weren’t very hungry, so we stopped at a place that sold homemade wheat bread and bought a few to take away. For lunch, we picked another hole-in-the-wall café, just a short walk from the bakery, which also offered vegetarian food. I had their vegetarian curry, and my sister had pesto pasta. Before heading back to our accommodation, of course, we couldn’t leave without bringing home the famous lemon pie the town is now known for. Our older sibling had specifically asked for it. To cap off the day, we went to this food spot which holds a special place in our hearts. We had visited it before with our mom when she was still alive. This time, instead of a full meal, we opted for some refreshing cold treats—because in this town, it’s hard to ever feel truly hungry. Maybe it’s the weather. As night descended, we began getting ready for our early morning journey back.Day 3: We took the earliest bus back home, which left at 5 AM, and it was pitch-black outside! I was totally exhausted, but I’d definitely do it all over again. Like I always tell myself, “Go, just go.” Skip the whole planning thing. There’s nothing more exhilarating than traveling spontaneously and unannounced. Just make sure you have travel funds—that’s all. Maybe out of the country next year? Who knows. First, I’ll make sure I’m physically fit for it. My goal for now is to get ample rest. 😴
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