with JeanPaul Gualtier in
New York City
Oct 2, 2006
Oct 1, 2006
I think I am ready to explode.
It can't really be "mind over matter" always, can it? My mind is just an entire universe of complicated proportions. I am thinking nonstop of endless impossible probabilities. Should I? Do I? Must I? Can I??? And the challenge is not to answer the question, but to bury it somewhere in your brain until it is totally forgotten. Why not? People ALWAYS forget anyway...in time.
Even things that are written in history are lost in our memory. Important events have totally been removed from our lives. Remember the shooting in Irvine? Remember that girl Natalie Hallowey? Remember EDSA? The real one??? So...why not forget about MY memory? Why not forget my own shortcomings? Why can't I let go?
So I made a mistake. Big deal. I pretty much had a strong case of lapse in judgement. But don't we all on certain days? Don't we say something we want to take back? Do something we musn't do? Act on something we musn't feel??? A few hours ago I was watching this segment on CNN about a couple measuring every calorie they eat at the dinner table. It was down to the last green leaf, last bean, last tomato. All these for a much longer life they say. A life past 100 years old. But they were measuring every raspbery, every tofu to its core..from the size of the healthiest carrot to the length of an avocado.
What difference does it make if I took a bite of nachos today just because I feel like it? Don't we all deserve a cup full of our favorite ice cream once in a while? I mean, I may live up to 101. But is it worth it with just onions and string beans in your stomach?
In other words, yeah. You tell me to sift. To break it down and remove the non-essentials from the essentials. To scrape the icing on the cake, the sauce from the beef, the juice from the freshest coconut fruit.
Just to live.
But what is a work of art without the sweat, the writer without the pot, the player without the woman in his heart?
The answer is WORTH that beat-up truck rusting in the garage our dad bought in 1985.
It can't really be "mind over matter" always, can it? My mind is just an entire universe of complicated proportions. I am thinking nonstop of endless impossible probabilities. Should I? Do I? Must I? Can I??? And the challenge is not to answer the question, but to bury it somewhere in your brain until it is totally forgotten. Why not? People ALWAYS forget anyway...in time.
Even things that are written in history are lost in our memory. Important events have totally been removed from our lives. Remember the shooting in Irvine? Remember that girl Natalie Hallowey? Remember EDSA? The real one??? So...why not forget about MY memory? Why not forget my own shortcomings? Why can't I let go?
So I made a mistake. Big deal. I pretty much had a strong case of lapse in judgement. But don't we all on certain days? Don't we say something we want to take back? Do something we musn't do? Act on something we musn't feel??? A few hours ago I was watching this segment on CNN about a couple measuring every calorie they eat at the dinner table. It was down to the last green leaf, last bean, last tomato. All these for a much longer life they say. A life past 100 years old. But they were measuring every raspbery, every tofu to its core..from the size of the healthiest carrot to the length of an avocado.
What difference does it make if I took a bite of nachos today just because I feel like it? Don't we all deserve a cup full of our favorite ice cream once in a while? I mean, I may live up to 101. But is it worth it with just onions and string beans in your stomach?
In other words, yeah. You tell me to sift. To break it down and remove the non-essentials from the essentials. To scrape the icing on the cake, the sauce from the beef, the juice from the freshest coconut fruit.
Just to live.
But what is a work of art without the sweat, the writer without the pot, the player without the woman in his heart?
The answer is WORTH that beat-up truck rusting in the garage our dad bought in 1985.
Sep 24, 2006
the McDREAMIES vs. the McVETS
Am I the only one going completely nostalgic about this?
"So take your time...While I made my choice, she was the wrong one."--McDreamy
Who freakin' says this in real life?! Who??? If a man ever said such incendiary statements to me, I'll die. No. I'll kill him with my bare hands. It's totally making Meredith delirious. It's totally making ME delirious. But like the ten million viewers who were prob'ly screaming their pants off, I am a fan. I have always been. More than a year ago, when everyone else was into Lost and Desperate Housewives (or that Mafia thing on HBO), I blogged about this amazing show that has made a lover out of me again. Grey reminded me of Ally Mcbeal, except she wasn't a lawyer, but just as neurotic. I liked the scary and damaged part..the twisted and dark...because...it all went back to...me. Hooray! I am not the only complicated, indecisive, confused, and obsessed weirdo.
But this is not what this blog is about. It's about the McDreamies and the McVets. It's about the one you love or the one who loves you. The one who hurt you or the one who will never hurt you. The one who left you or the one who will never leave you. Heavy...heavy...stuff. (If you put it this way, then the choice shouldn't really be so complex. And yet it is...or else we wouldn't be watching.)
I don't want to label the McDreamies as the perpetual bad boys. I see them as the men we share a frenetic connection with. So demented and unbalanced...yet so emotionally ecstatic. While the McVets...hmmmm...are the once we share a convivial relationship with---safe and settling...comforting. Sigh!
I would advice you to go for the McVets. Those who will move heaven and earth for you. Those who will transcend boundaries for you. Those who will fight for you. "If there is a ring. My head is in it."--McVet
Yet, it is never always that easy.
The sad thing about the McVets is that they will have to go against your "moments". Moments that you will only share with the McDreamies. Moments that you will never forget...And in as much as you try to force yourself to "develop" a moment with Mr. McVet, it will never work. These moments just happen. We cannot conjure "the moment". We cannot pretend to feel "magic".
A friend of mine recently said to me not to close the door on doubtful possibilities. Simply because the "doubt" could be reasoned with. How do you reason with a doubtful heart??? You don't. The heart needs no reason to believe. It just does. In the same way that the heart can't be forced to believe what it can't. Even if you give it a million reasons.
Mr. McVet may be wonderful. But Mr. Wonderful may not always be Mr. Right.
But does that mean Mr. McDreamy is always Mr. Right? Hell not. I remember the last time I saw my McDreamy on a 4th. He was with her. I remembered when he told me about her. How he wanted to make it work---with her. Because they have history...because they have years...because they have what he called a commitment. How can you hate an honest man???
How can't you love an honest man?
So tune in...to the choice television actors make. It may not be our life. But it's a life worth watching.
(will one day find my McDreamy
in the streets of Italy)
"So take your time...While I made my choice, she was the wrong one."--McDreamy
Who freakin' says this in real life?! Who??? If a man ever said such incendiary statements to me, I'll die. No. I'll kill him with my bare hands. It's totally making Meredith delirious. It's totally making ME delirious. But like the ten million viewers who were prob'ly screaming their pants off, I am a fan. I have always been. More than a year ago, when everyone else was into Lost and Desperate Housewives (or that Mafia thing on HBO), I blogged about this amazing show that has made a lover out of me again. Grey reminded me of Ally Mcbeal, except she wasn't a lawyer, but just as neurotic. I liked the scary and damaged part..the twisted and dark...because...it all went back to...me. Hooray! I am not the only complicated, indecisive, confused, and obsessed weirdo.
But this is not what this blog is about. It's about the McDreamies and the McVets. It's about the one you love or the one who loves you. The one who hurt you or the one who will never hurt you. The one who left you or the one who will never leave you. Heavy...heavy...stuff. (If you put it this way, then the choice shouldn't really be so complex. And yet it is...or else we wouldn't be watching.)
I don't want to label the McDreamies as the perpetual bad boys. I see them as the men we share a frenetic connection with. So demented and unbalanced...yet so emotionally ecstatic. While the McVets...hmmmm...are the once we share a convivial relationship with---safe and settling...comforting. Sigh!
I would advice you to go for the McVets. Those who will move heaven and earth for you. Those who will transcend boundaries for you. Those who will fight for you. "If there is a ring. My head is in it."--McVet
Yet, it is never always that easy.
The sad thing about the McVets is that they will have to go against your "moments". Moments that you will only share with the McDreamies. Moments that you will never forget...And in as much as you try to force yourself to "develop" a moment with Mr. McVet, it will never work. These moments just happen. We cannot conjure "the moment". We cannot pretend to feel "magic".
A friend of mine recently said to me not to close the door on doubtful possibilities. Simply because the "doubt" could be reasoned with. How do you reason with a doubtful heart??? You don't. The heart needs no reason to believe. It just does. In the same way that the heart can't be forced to believe what it can't. Even if you give it a million reasons.
Mr. McVet may be wonderful. But Mr. Wonderful may not always be Mr. Right.
But does that mean Mr. McDreamy is always Mr. Right? Hell not. I remember the last time I saw my McDreamy on a 4th. He was with her. I remembered when he told me about her. How he wanted to make it work---with her. Because they have history...because they have years...because they have what he called a commitment. How can you hate an honest man???
How can't you love an honest man?
So tune in...to the choice television actors make. It may not be our life. But it's a life worth watching.
(will one day find my McDreamy
in the streets of Italy)
Aug 31, 2006
to heal a broken heart
Miss you guys...
TO HEAL A BROKEN HEART----
How long does it take? Not quite long, I guess...
Conversation No. 1
Bads: I'm BACK!!!
Gilly: Huh? Ok.
-The End-
Conversation No. 2
Bads: Tears...tears...tears...I want to go back.
Miyuki: Wag ka ngang maarte, ha! Welcome back to the real world!
-The End-
Conversation No. 3
Bads: (quiet)
Gretch: Where's my blouse?! Is it nice? How does it look? Does it fit me? I told her to get a size 38...It will take 2 weeks to go back to your routine. I didn't miss you. Ok lang. Are you going to the party? I'm not sure if I am. I'm still at work Blah..blah...blah...blah...blah...I'll call you back.
Bads: (still quiet)
-The End-
Conversation No. 4
Bads: God, I don't think I can do this. I'm so homesick. And sad.
Anthony: Me too! I have so much to tell you! There's so much drama...Here goes.
(30 mins after)
Anthony: How about you? Why are you sad?
Bads: No, I'm ok. I'm fine.
-The End-
Conversation No. 5
phone rings
Bads: Hey, Abby.
Abby: Bads, it was time to go.
Bads: (teary eyed) I know.
-The End-
How long does it take to get you insane? 5 conversations or less...Forget about your broken heart. The world will move on. With or without you.
-The End-
Aug 4, 2006
It only takes one. ONE ACT. Of gentle kindness..sweet persuation..great foolishness..unfaithfulness..or disappearance to change your entire relationship with someone else. And it's not about the "i will make up for it" part or doing more than what is expected. It's about the CHOICE you make on a certain matter...for a certain day. And although there will be another tomorrow, tomorrow is NOT today.
The thing about setting your heart on a matter, is that you never want to make a mistake. Because your heart is involved and your judgment at stake. Never mind if everyone warns you of the risk. It's your judgment...your theory...your CALL to make.
I know potential when I see one. It is a gift I perfected with children. There are kids born for stardom that you immediately adhere to. And there are THOSE you observe with great interest. It is not the great but the POSSIBILITY for greatness that inspires me. When you enter a room filled with people, it is easy to notice those who stand out. For depthless reasons---appearance, stature, or class. I am thankful never to be persuaded by such ubiquities. For at some point in my past, I was always trying to place great weight on appearance. And yet, I was empty.
It is the uneventful realization that you COULD be wrong in your judgment. So you insist to be right and allow things to happen. Despite the warnings, the talk, and the tell-tale signs to DOOMsville land. Before you know it, you are caught in sleeping beauty's spinning wheel of dreams. Until eventually...the needle finds it's way to your skin.
It only takes ONE. One act. Of face to face encounter...to KNOW. That that potential could ONLY have been a one time spark on the beach...the park...a corner downtown. And you look at the person and you remember the time a good friend asked you for caution--because of the rusty past and the playboy history. Back then you smiled and tossed your head up knowing you've always been good at the game. Only to realize that...you were never made to play.
It only takes one. One act of realization. To lose faith...in a man. An unexpected collision of paths to know...that gone is the mystery, the character, the depth. Just a shadow of blurry moments in the past--of wit, humor, and the quiet strength of his presence. Where has it gone? Or, was it never there to begin with???
I'm over it now.
It only takes one act.
One act...to forget.
The thing about setting your heart on a matter, is that you never want to make a mistake. Because your heart is involved and your judgment at stake. Never mind if everyone warns you of the risk. It's your judgment...your theory...your CALL to make.
I know potential when I see one. It is a gift I perfected with children. There are kids born for stardom that you immediately adhere to. And there are THOSE you observe with great interest. It is not the great but the POSSIBILITY for greatness that inspires me. When you enter a room filled with people, it is easy to notice those who stand out. For depthless reasons---appearance, stature, or class. I am thankful never to be persuaded by such ubiquities. For at some point in my past, I was always trying to place great weight on appearance. And yet, I was empty.
It is the uneventful realization that you COULD be wrong in your judgment. So you insist to be right and allow things to happen. Despite the warnings, the talk, and the tell-tale signs to DOOMsville land. Before you know it, you are caught in sleeping beauty's spinning wheel of dreams. Until eventually...the needle finds it's way to your skin.
It only takes ONE. One act. Of face to face encounter...to KNOW. That that potential could ONLY have been a one time spark on the beach...the park...a corner downtown. And you look at the person and you remember the time a good friend asked you for caution--because of the rusty past and the playboy history. Back then you smiled and tossed your head up knowing you've always been good at the game. Only to realize that...you were never made to play.
It only takes one. One act of realization. To lose faith...in a man. An unexpected collision of paths to know...that gone is the mystery, the character, the depth. Just a shadow of blurry moments in the past--of wit, humor, and the quiet strength of his presence. Where has it gone? Or, was it never there to begin with???
I'm over it now.
It only takes one act.
One act...to forget.
Jul 23, 2006
Numbered Days...
At this time last year, I was told to die by a voice in a not-so fictional dream. I was alone in a room. My body was dead tired to move but my mind was wide awake. I have encountered a number of weirdness in my slumber state. But this, by far, was the most crucial of everything ambiguous. It reminded me of the same moment when angel Gabriel visited Mary to tell her about the good news being picked as the Chosen One for Jesus. Only, I was no Mary. And I was obviously not chosen to bring life. Instead, I was told that mine would be taken away before my 27th year.
I was chosen to die.
If this is true, how could I have been so lucky to be dutifully warned by the angel of death? Mind you, I was all the way in San Francisco, trying to have a grand old time with my vacation. Yet, among all the living beings turning 27 by next year, I above all people, was handfully picked to be cut short of my earthly time.
What in God's world did I do?
Let me think...hmmmm. Nothing morally risque. I try, like most people, to be noble in character. Try. Though I don't doubt there've been plenty of days I've fallen short in nobility. But don't we all? So if this is a test of failing through life with goodness in conscience, am I truly next in line to leave???
It is not actually death that I feared at that moment of my awakening. I have gone through numerous life shattering accidents that has brought me to a much deeper state of consciousness. Yet, amidst all the 911 calls, and the paramedics, and the quick ride to the ER room...I, afterall the bombarding threats, am still breathing. I guess, there's still another bone to break, another cheek to scar, another heart to falter and pump for the wrong reasons.
Another chance to make mistakes.
My dear friends have commented on the "new" Bads that's come home to them recently. Have I really changed that much since I left? Is the change good? Are the remnants of my better past still evident somehow? I have tried to intertwine the lessons of my story hoping to find a "better" me. A better me for somebody. Anybody. It is the pact I made during a troubled me. "Make me whole. Please. Heal me."
No I have not forgotten my deal with the Almigthy. I used to think it was a stupid thing to bargain for---a better life in exchange for quality choices. But, as I look at the sight of the homeless and the needy, I realized I never needed to make such bargain. I already have a better life. Now I am commanded to make greater choices. When people ask me why I'm never impressed with the size of someone's house, I fall silent. For I have been to a place where a family of 8 have to cramp together in a 5 sqr. meter dump. Or when I hear talks about food and how much time people devote to make impressive feasts, I quiver. For I've seen children forced to eat spoiled food just to survive till the next day. And yes, this vacation time of mine, though restful, has brought me some guilty pleasures. For I have succeeded in perfecting Bel Far Niente (The Art of Doing Nothing). If I die, it is the most shameful moment to do so, for I am at my most ignorant state of mind. I know nothing of what's going on in the world. I have not read a single paper or watched any news since I got here.
I am an empty soul.
And I am still not 27.
My curse is still lives.
I was chosen to die.
If this is true, how could I have been so lucky to be dutifully warned by the angel of death? Mind you, I was all the way in San Francisco, trying to have a grand old time with my vacation. Yet, among all the living beings turning 27 by next year, I above all people, was handfully picked to be cut short of my earthly time.
What in God's world did I do?
Let me think...hmmmm. Nothing morally risque. I try, like most people, to be noble in character. Try. Though I don't doubt there've been plenty of days I've fallen short in nobility. But don't we all? So if this is a test of failing through life with goodness in conscience, am I truly next in line to leave???
It is not actually death that I feared at that moment of my awakening. I have gone through numerous life shattering accidents that has brought me to a much deeper state of consciousness. Yet, amidst all the 911 calls, and the paramedics, and the quick ride to the ER room...I, afterall the bombarding threats, am still breathing. I guess, there's still another bone to break, another cheek to scar, another heart to falter and pump for the wrong reasons.
Another chance to make mistakes.
My dear friends have commented on the "new" Bads that's come home to them recently. Have I really changed that much since I left? Is the change good? Are the remnants of my better past still evident somehow? I have tried to intertwine the lessons of my story hoping to find a "better" me. A better me for somebody. Anybody. It is the pact I made during a troubled me. "Make me whole. Please. Heal me."
No I have not forgotten my deal with the Almigthy. I used to think it was a stupid thing to bargain for---a better life in exchange for quality choices. But, as I look at the sight of the homeless and the needy, I realized I never needed to make such bargain. I already have a better life. Now I am commanded to make greater choices. When people ask me why I'm never impressed with the size of someone's house, I fall silent. For I have been to a place where a family of 8 have to cramp together in a 5 sqr. meter dump. Or when I hear talks about food and how much time people devote to make impressive feasts, I quiver. For I've seen children forced to eat spoiled food just to survive till the next day. And yes, this vacation time of mine, though restful, has brought me some guilty pleasures. For I have succeeded in perfecting Bel Far Niente (The Art of Doing Nothing). If I die, it is the most shameful moment to do so, for I am at my most ignorant state of mind. I know nothing of what's going on in the world. I have not read a single paper or watched any news since I got here.
I am an empty soul.
And I am still not 27.
My curse is still lives.
Jul 4, 2006
Circle of Friends
I'm confused. Dazed most of the time. A pivotal decision bugging your mind worth changing the leftover years in your lifetime. How do you decide when to move your queen on the chessboard? When everything else is in such a fixed place? I wish the easiness could be carried through from back when we were younger. Going to school. Enjoying time with friends. Playing it oh so cool.
Ever noticed how things become so different after years of being away? Like the space and the room has gone smaller..the road more narrow..your couch not as comfortable? Yet everything else is still the same. Same people fill your room...your memory...your mind. It's not just the growth of white hair that proves we have aged, but the common duties of our very existence. Proof of it is when my friends start talking about home furnitures and paint or the menu for their beloveds for the night. How could it be that the things that bind us together, are the things that also set us apart? One thing is for sure though. I look at my friends now and there is nothing but great PRIDE I have for them. Oh how they have...changed and yet, still remain the very same people I have cherished all these years. I was fortunate enough to have found my soul sisters back in college. And I know no matter how many "bubu"s I make, i will always have my own team to run to...when i am most definitely eaten with shame.
There is no absolute leader in our group. Just a bunch of girlfriends with similar interest and different passions. Jeh, will always be the apotheosis of primness and properness. I have never heard her loud or vulgar. Like a dear Rapunzel, a damzel though never in distress. But don't be fooled. She may personify absolute simplicity in character, but her coin purse is as expensive as my laptop. Che, will always be the perennial do-gooder. She can work and get along with anybody. She will find no fault in anyone. And she will readily forgive even the most demonic in- law. I love her. She will pick up the pieces with me clad in her sexiest outfit, and her son in tow. Hilarious! Vanny... will always and forever be the quintessencial elegant beauty. I know no one who can carry just jeans and a white tee to perfection. And we were in college back then! Now, nothing's changed. Except that despite having a beautiful daughter, she's still thinner than me. Rolling my eyes now! Abb...abbigail, will always be the sweetest person with the sweetest voice in the planet. She always reminds me to act accordingly even when it comes to people I have no patience with. We are so different, yet I understand her. She's become such a mother to her child. It's amazing to witness. Tina Perez will always be the absolute flaker like me. She will make an arrangement and change it last minute. And despite the aggravation, I cannot fault her. Because she's as time snob as me. I have yet to see her during this 2 month visit. And until I do, i will say nothing of her. Bwahahaha MeL maldita is the most opinionated, unfiltered, truthful, non-judgmental person I know. I try to keep secrets from her. But it never works. She knows. She'll know. It's scary. And most of the things people take pains to tell me? She'll tell me to my face without inhibitions. Yet i listen. And I love her for it.
And with the exception of one, I adore all my friends husbands. (Exception bec there's one who's still unmarried...like me! Just to be clear!=) ) They're patient. That's all that matters. I cannot even begin to describe the havoc we create when we are all together. It's a tsunami in the making magnified to plenty. Yet, it is the hands that bind us together through the storm...The years that keep us in close proximity to each other, even if say, one of us lives somewhere in NYC.
It is the thing that makes me want to stay.
Longer? Forever?
Who knows? I'm still confused.
Yet the clock continues to tick despite my longing.
Mindless of my yearning.
Nonchalant over my questioning.
I'm still waiting for a phonecall.
Will it come?
I shout to the world how substantially meaningful I have become. Yet I am bound to a mindless tragedy of hopeless hope.
A call that will make me rush to the ends of the world.
Just to hear. Just to know.
Yet my queen stays. Where it is. On guard.
Someone please tell me again what they heard from that LAKEHOUSE movie...
"If she's not careful...she might be waiting all her life."
This helps. IF youre like me.
Ever noticed how things become so different after years of being away? Like the space and the room has gone smaller..the road more narrow..your couch not as comfortable? Yet everything else is still the same. Same people fill your room...your memory...your mind. It's not just the growth of white hair that proves we have aged, but the common duties of our very existence. Proof of it is when my friends start talking about home furnitures and paint or the menu for their beloveds for the night. How could it be that the things that bind us together, are the things that also set us apart? One thing is for sure though. I look at my friends now and there is nothing but great PRIDE I have for them. Oh how they have...changed and yet, still remain the very same people I have cherished all these years. I was fortunate enough to have found my soul sisters back in college. And I know no matter how many "bubu"s I make, i will always have my own team to run to...when i am most definitely eaten with shame.
There is no absolute leader in our group. Just a bunch of girlfriends with similar interest and different passions. Jeh, will always be the apotheosis of primness and properness. I have never heard her loud or vulgar. Like a dear Rapunzel, a damzel though never in distress. But don't be fooled. She may personify absolute simplicity in character, but her coin purse is as expensive as my laptop. Che, will always be the perennial do-gooder. She can work and get along with anybody. She will find no fault in anyone. And she will readily forgive even the most demonic in- law. I love her. She will pick up the pieces with me clad in her sexiest outfit, and her son in tow. Hilarious! Vanny... will always and forever be the quintessencial elegant beauty. I know no one who can carry just jeans and a white tee to perfection. And we were in college back then! Now, nothing's changed. Except that despite having a beautiful daughter, she's still thinner than me. Rolling my eyes now! Abb...abbigail, will always be the sweetest person with the sweetest voice in the planet. She always reminds me to act accordingly even when it comes to people I have no patience with. We are so different, yet I understand her. She's become such a mother to her child. It's amazing to witness. Tina Perez will always be the absolute flaker like me. She will make an arrangement and change it last minute. And despite the aggravation, I cannot fault her. Because she's as time snob as me. I have yet to see her during this 2 month visit. And until I do, i will say nothing of her. Bwahahaha MeL maldita is the most opinionated, unfiltered, truthful, non-judgmental person I know. I try to keep secrets from her. But it never works. She knows. She'll know. It's scary. And most of the things people take pains to tell me? She'll tell me to my face without inhibitions. Yet i listen. And I love her for it.
And with the exception of one, I adore all my friends husbands. (Exception bec there's one who's still unmarried...like me! Just to be clear!=) ) They're patient. That's all that matters. I cannot even begin to describe the havoc we create when we are all together. It's a tsunami in the making magnified to plenty. Yet, it is the hands that bind us together through the storm...The years that keep us in close proximity to each other, even if say, one of us lives somewhere in NYC.
It is the thing that makes me want to stay.
Longer? Forever?
Who knows? I'm still confused.
Yet the clock continues to tick despite my longing.
Mindless of my yearning.
Nonchalant over my questioning.
I'm still waiting for a phonecall.
Will it come?
I shout to the world how substantially meaningful I have become. Yet I am bound to a mindless tragedy of hopeless hope.
A call that will make me rush to the ends of the world.
Just to hear. Just to know.
Yet my queen stays. Where it is. On guard.
Someone please tell me again what they heard from that LAKEHOUSE movie...
"If she's not careful...she might be waiting all her life."
This helps. IF youre like me.
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