Viva Las Vegas Veterans

Though I have been to Las Vegas twice in my life, I felt like I saw it for the very first time. With all the new hotels, stores, and shows--Las Vegas never seems to be the same. This amazing city in the middle of the desert is new every time you visit it.

More so when I tagged along with the seasoned Vegas-goers: my mom, Tita L and Tito S, and their barkada: Tito K, Tito E and his wife, Tita A, (from L.A), and Tita S. I crashed their 6th year reunion. They like to eat (and how--lalo na chicheria), they like to shop, they like to watch the new and nice shows (neophytes like me can't afford more than one!) and they like to laugh and tell stories. And though I tagged along only because I wanted to watch Martin Nievera, I got more than I bargained for from this trip.

Vegas Veterans

First, I got to ride as a regular passenger in their van. The trip took about 9 hours, but we made pit stops for breakfast at Denny's. To eat breakfast without having to worry about what the kids will order or slicing their food into bite-size pieces was already making me giddy with happiness.
Just napping in the car without anyone crying was another pleasure I took to the max.

We shopped at Prim Outlet Store that carried Banana Rep, Gap, Todd's, Polo, Anne Taylor, etc. We were sure to all get a little something/s from Bijoux Ternier--the best French-sounding store where everything--from paisley pashmina shawls to knock-off colored leather bags--went for $10!!




When in Vegas, don't forget to check out the super sarap Binagoongang Baboy and others from Kapit-Bahay and Pinoy-Pinay--pinoy food supreme on the Strip.


But the culinary highlight was Spanish Cafe Bar-ba-ree-ba, where I tasted the most savory tapas, the most tender calamari, and the best paella I have ever had!



And then came the reason for my being there: Society of Seven and Lani Misalucha performed with guest Martin Nievera:

Diana Ross and the Supremes?

Lani was svelte and powerful, she can easily put Celine Dion to shame--that was the consensus of the group. Martin's voice sang straight to the soul and I remain faithful as a fan. My mom has become a convert, shouting "I love you, Martin!" by herself.

Happy, happy, happy day!!

Plus a bonus show--a treat from always and ever-so-generous Tita L--we got to see the fun and liberating Menopause, with Paige O'Hara (originally Belle in Broadway's Beauty and the Beast.")

I got to watch the Bellagio Dancing Fountains--a light a water show every 15 minutes. Though the photos are not great (I brought only a small camera, thus, I will have to articulate the fountains with words, and words always fall short), the experience is something else, as dancing strips of water interpreted surround music from Bocelli, to the Beattles, to Swan Lake, to Lionel Richie. The water show was enthralling, with graceful spurts when the music is slow, and then powerful bursts of up to 20 feet when the music demands more passion.


I could have watched the whole night, except that my mom would be worried. In my heaven, there will be dancing fountains and a city of lights, just like this:




And those who give a lot, get a lot--Tita L is blessed with good luck, ALL the time!

Viva Las Vegas Veterans!

For me, this was definitely a God-given trip. I was able to recharge, I held hands with Martin Nievera, I learned from Tita A and Tito E's stories, as they slugged it out as immigrants in Canada and then, in L.A. Every immigrant goes through a very rough time. And for older immigrants, we all do it for the kids. And then a time comes when it gets better for all of us.

I am strengthened and renewed in this immigrant adventure. In fact, I learned that I am blessed to be where I am and that so many others endured way more than we have. I learned to enjoy myself and not feel bad about leaving the kids. A break like this really helps in adjusting as immigrants.

Sabi nga ni Elvis, Viva Las Vegas!

The cure for burn-out

According to Dr. Patch Adams, the clown/physician, burn-out is a state in which people are unfulfilled by their work and are insufficiently rejuvenated. They find themselves giving too much for too long, then something snuffs out the joy and thrill of their lives and their work.

Medical doctor; Clown; Performer; Social Activist; Founder and Director of the Gesundheit Institute, a holistic medical community that has provided free medical care to thousands of patients since it began in 1971; Author of Gesundheit! & House Calls; Moving Speaker.

Nonetheless, most researchers agree that solutions can be found in change. Rest alone does not heal burn-out. Real change must be integrated into the life of a patient. Solutions can be found in a combination of medication and/or a change in a patient’s workplace, lifestyle, perception or world view.

As an immigrant, I may have unknowingly brought in my third-world mentality of "suffering is good for the soul." I have to shed this Jesuit-taught aversion to money, to enjoying oneself--and stop feeling guilty. This guilt, my big enemy, has robbed me of my joy, energy, and hope. My problem is feeling guilty when I rest because yaya S might feel bad. Para bang I'm so blessed, I should suffer. (Where did I ever learn that rubbish?)

I think everyone who knows this about me calls me silly. Sabi nga ni Donna Freedman, "There's a world of difference between poverty and poverty of spirit."

I will take the cue from my virtual mentor, Oprah, to seize "me time" whenever I can, and not feel guilty. In fact, I resolve to enjoy myself for the sake of my family. What use is a burnt-out mom and wife to them?

I also resolve to exercise more. The gym near us is truly a blessing.

I also resolve to redefine the American Dream as not just for the kids, but also for me (and maybe R). I know we're allowed to have our own little midlife dreams to pursue, too. Let me dare to say that mine is to train for the next fun marathon, the Bay to Bay Breakers.

Why not?

I realized that I denied myself the joy of life. In wanting to give only to the kids, I ran out of steam. In the process, I did not notice the symptoms of burn-out coming: always feeling sick, no energy, no excitement and no joy.

My editor assigned me to cover a "laughter seminar," where the speaker asked: "Who among you laughs ten times a day?"

There were such a poor show of hands.

The speaker said we have become too serious about life and didn't allow ourselves to be silly. Did you know that laughter relieved stress, reduced blood pressure, boost the immune system, lift you self-esteem, helps you stay mentally alert, enhances your mood and is touted to be better than yoga and meditation as "inner aerobics."

Until I get medical insurance, I had better start laughing ten times a day. Oh the speaker said, there doesn't need to be a reason to laugh. When you start smiling or laughing, the brain doesn't know the difference.

And if laughter is good for the health, it is said that loneliness can make you sick. My brother, Mig, told me that isolation is part of my burn-out. He says I have no friends because we live so far away. I resolve to move nearer the beautiful San Francisco peninsula in two years, when the kids go on to new school levels.

For more on the health effects of loneliness, click here.

I will also take heed of my mom's advise--to factor in an allowance from the budget for myself. So tomorrow, I will watch a movie. And then next week, I am going with my mom and her friends to Las Vegas to watch Martin Nievera. And on April, I am going to visit my friend who had a baby (cheers!) and spend a night with them in Manhattan, where I believe we will find solace in our R&R. Yehehey!

Thanks for all you comments and support! And don't be like me, always forgetting to find my joy, just because I live with them.

Caliber and Illusion

My husband and I woke up earlier than usual and had one of our rare talks--the ones we used to have in Manila, where we just talk and talk and not judge.

I have been burning out lately, mostly from trying to balance being a school bus driver, tutor, and referee to my elementary kids and then running off to interview someone/s for the newspaper, beating a deadline, and then running to Walmart, to get materials for the collage of my 6th grade son, due on Monday. I have been burning out the other end by waiting on and coaching my (once rich-man) husband on the ethics of hard-work, focus, and perseverance.

In the meantime, we are tight with the budget and therefore, tight with time, because I keep accepting assignments for the money, not really knowing where to find time to write them.

I told my husband I miss our old lifestyle in Manila. When we were stressed, we could go to Rockwell and watch a movie and then have coffee--never feeling guilty about leaving the kids. In Manila, we could eat out often, in new restaurants, in fancy restaurants, hang out at hotel lobbies, hotel dinner buffets for $20.

I could go to the salon, have a manicure and pedicure spa, have a hip haircut with highlights and feel better about myself. I called on our ever-faithful masseuse and when I got lucky, she would bleach my underarms and wax my eyebrows as well.

What I miss most is hanging out with my friends and my big supportive family. They gave me a predictable routine of just validating that life has its ups and downs and everyone went through it. Very important pala yung Sunday lunches that we spent with either families. Here in America, the land of opportunity, you are lucky to have 1.2 friends on the average (not counting spouse or family). And my one and only friend,N, is busy with management seminars and climbing up his career ladder because he still has to save for his retirement lot in Tagaytay.

I miss my friends who like to go out, even with 50 pesos amongst us. I miss my cousins who like to drink in joy and in sorrow. (Although many of us don't drink nor smoke anymore). I miss my high school friends who just come and pick me up to eat out for no reason at all. I miss my friends who can afford to go to Hong Kong for the week-end. I miss the "Hello, mam/sir" greeting that you get from everyone who is always smiling. I miss that no matter how poor I was, there is something to affordable in Divisoria and Tutuban.

My friends and I used to plan a monthly lunch, where we take off for the whole afternoon, leaving our business-we-put-up-from scratch in the hands of our trusted assistants and sewers. We shared our woes and joys (in sales figures) in business, in family, in our marriages--some turbulent, some failing, the other one, quite good after all these years. We'd release our gripes over a long lunch (with dessert!) and then we would go on to watch the newest movie in the nicest movie house. We would always thank God for how lucky we were to have our own time and money.

I keep saying movies because watching a movie seems to be a lifeline to me . It's different in the movie house, where you can't hit the pause button and where you can laugh and cry anytime you want. I can watch movies alone and come out refreshed--and I don't even have the time nor the money to see Atonement, 6 weeks in the running. If I do, I have to watch it before 6 p.m., without popcorn or drinks that easily cost $15. Buti nalang I don't like popcorn.

"Why don't you make other friends?" asked my husband.

Unlike him, I am very particular about making friends. Coming from a big clan of about 30 cousins who are all like siblings, we know why we only trust each other, and very few other people. I am a loyal friend, and I give my all to my friends. So I can't just make new friends. Besides, friendship takes time and things in common--and we don't have much of that for hanging out as immigrants.

I realized that immigrants come from very different backgrounds. And though we are essentially the same as Filipinos, it is hard to find someone you have things in common with. Maybe I am looking for the same-caliber friends as in Manila. The ones who went to the same league of schools, the ones who grew up in Manila (versus the province). Not that I have anything against people from the province. People from the province who went to so-called public schools in the Philippines are way wealthier than us today. (Heck, they own 3 houses at a time). Our own kids go to public schools now. And we live in the equivalent of Pampanga right now.

So it's not about who has more money now. It's just that these commonalities should run through a friendship for it to work.

My mom said, "You may be poor, but you have the elan."
I said, "Mom, I will gladly sell my pedigree and style for all that cash!"

I miss the caliber of our Manila life. But my husband cautions me that this Manila caliber is an illusion. And I realize that though that may be true, I still miss it. I miss that when we are sick, we can go to one of our colleague doctors and confine ourselves in Makati Med. Here, we go to a mobile clinic because we have no insurance. In Manila, I play badminton with good cosmetic dentist to TV stars. She will try to save even my ugliest tooth and make my smile beautiful. Here, we go to Western Dental, where they are always eager to fit you for dentures.

Here all the rich Pinoys drive their newest S-class or C-class Mercedez Benzes. I never liked a Benz for a car, much less to show off. I realize that I didn't like it because we did not need it to show stature. Well, that was when we had stature. Here we have none. And when my badminton-mate picked me up from the train station in her Benz, all of a sudden I felt poor.

Although I kept taking it for granted, I realized that we have come from a privileged life in Manila. We may not have been super rich but we had stature, pedigree, and a good name, address, and a place in society. No matter how denied that, it is apparent to me now--and I should embrace it and work towards it, never to take it for granted again.

Dad R and daughter M all bundled up inside the house.

I have never judged a person by his wallet. But then that was because I was privileged. Let me say, it matters when we are poor and can't turn the heater on during winter. It was frustrating not be able to change our cracked car windshield for 8 months. And it matters when you are a nobody here and treated like one.