Watch Video Clips from the 2nd Dine with PAWS

If you missed the pooch party, check out these videos from the successful charity dinner organized by the Philippine Animal Welfare Society, with its major event partner Purina. The event was directed by my good friend and "boss" Rich Ilustre (Shall We Dance & Talentadong Pinoy). I was privileged to be the event's writer again for the 2nd time around (pro bono of course as my way of supporting the advocacy). Proceeds of the project will go to the organization's various programs and the further improvement of the shelter, the PARC (Paws Animal Rehabilitation Center). Watch the videos and get to know the Golden Heart Awardees and the Order of the Platinum Paw Awardees.

Part 1 -- montage of event clips & PAWS AVP


Part 2 -- PAWS General Director Anna Cabrera talks about the org's programs


Part 3 -- PAWS Golden Heart Awardees


Part 4 -- more PAWS Golden Heart Awardees


Part 5 -- Jojo Isorena, Philippine Dog Whisperer (Order of the Platinum Paw Awardee)


Part 6 -- Purina (Order of the Platinum Paw Awardee)


Part 7 -- Karylle... finally found LOVE that would last a lifetime (Order of the Platinum Paw Awardee)


Part 8 -- Performances by the guest celebrities


Visit the PAWS website to learn more about how to be a volunteer...

The Blanket Consent

I was cleaning up my computer folders and I found this 4-year old entry from my old deleted blog. The date was June 2005. I remember this was during the "Hello Garci" scandal, and I was a month away from being enroute to New York to re-shuffle my life. I was supposed to go to the US to settle the score on a long distance relationship, and at the same time I had just met Joseph (my husband) for the first time in 8 years. I remember becoming less excited to pursue the other one in the states because of my rekindling romance with Joseph. Sigh... 2005 seems like light years away already. Read my thoughts on "SUBMISSION" at that time of my life and I'm pretty sure you'll be amused. 

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Written in June 2005

This is not a comment on the recent “Hello Garci” events. Although I might cite Gloria, Susan, Cory, Hillary (Clinton not Duff), and even Imelda somewhere in this essay, I would like to clear up that this piece could be anything but a political editorial. I am not a big fan of any of the four. But I will not deny being amazed on how they are such “GREAT” wives to their husbands. They are true examples to the adage: Behind a great man is an even greater woman! Or well, that’s just another way of actually sprucing up a man’s ego. The real meaning to it is, men simply just can’t stand alone, let alone clean up after themselves. Men, no matter how old they have grown up still remain babies who need their diapers changed regularly by their mommies.

I’m not being a Feminist here. In fact, the whole point of my blog is all about SUBMISSION.  I used to be so allergic to this word. As a matter of fact, I still am but lately I’ve realized some things to re-consider with regards to this concept. I am slowly embracing “submission” in a new light. I could imagine myself being the kind of wife that Cory, Susan, Hillary, Imelda, and Gloria are. These are really dominant, strong women who PROBABLY (I’m simply assuming) decided to “submit” themselves in a form of a BLANKET CONSENT. 

This is a new idea I got from my voracious readings on the Internet. (I’ve got so much FREE time, I’m telling you.) Anyway, this refers to the idea of giving the man in your life the freedom to act forcefully and at least in one sense (though not a deeper sense) against your will – without giving him rules to abide by, approved times or places, etc. It implies both an enormous amount of trust on the woman’s part, and considerable knowledge of the woman of the man’s part. It does not mean that the woman loses any “rights” or is a DOORMAT. (So put down those raised eyebrows!) It does not mean that if the man were to start beating the woman to a pulp, he would be able to argue that she had consented. (Let’s not lose our commonsense here, folks! Haller!) It only assumes that there is goodwill and a desire on both sides to create and maintain an exciting relationship. Submission for me now is an obsolete concept. The new way of “submitting” is BLANKET CONSENT.

This is not a rebellion to WOMEN’S LIB. All I’m saying is let the men play their game because we women know the score all the time. This came after recognizing an age-old fact that women are biologically stronger than men. Therefore, there’s really nothing to be hormonally homicidal and insecure about men and their perpetual efforts to conquer us. Most of them die before us anyway, if not all. Hehehe. Haven’t you noticed that women outlive men?

Women do live longer than men. Well, at least that’s the general case in developed countries. The average being 5-6 years. This is only non-applicable in other poor parts of the world where there are still risks of childbirth. But then again, do we even have to go there? So moving on, men might holler and say “Shit that’s unfair!” (And that is why we need to stroke their egos once in a while because we women know, they’re all gonna die before us anyway!) 

Okay, okay, going back to the question: why do women live longer than men? That question can be answered at 2 levels. An evolutionary biologist would tell you that it is because women get evolutionary bonus points from living long enough to help bring up the grandchildren. Men, by contrast, wear themselves out competing for the right to procreate in the first place. In theory, yes these ideas hold water. But before men could argue, I’d like to keep their mouths taped with the medical reason that men lose 1/3 of their heart’s contractile muscles through time while women don’t. Plus estrogen is the hormonal elixir for us females! In this medical study, it has been found that GENERALLY men age in co-terminus with their hearts, while women continue to have younger hearts even as they grow older.

All I’m saying is, I know I am a strong, dominant, intelligent woman and that’s why my friends don’t seem to comprehend when I practically lose my brain whenever I AM IN LOVE. My gay best friend Neil, who survived a month-long stay in my apartment even said “Jill, I don’t think you can live with someone because you’re a bossy, obsessive compulsive bitch!” So how come that BITCH shuts up when she’s with her man?

Well, I won’t deny those. I’ve been called a predator, psycho, nuts, spoiled, and everything else in between by my friends and family. They were never told me in contempt though. Rather, they were all uttered in sweet exasperation. Jokes maybe, but we all know that jokes are half-meant. Okay, okay, I admit that I might freak out because the bathroom floor is wet, or if my CDs were disarranged from their Dewey-Decimal order, or if the throw pillows weren’t sitting on the couch at the right spots where I want them to be on, but IT DOESN’T MEAN I CAN NOT LIVE WITH A SIGNIFICANT OTHER.

I know there are women out there like me who are walking (strutting) paradoxes! It is in our nature to be strong, independent and at times even commanding, while also having a genuinely and lovingly submissive side that we choose to share with a trusted partner. It is not that the strong, independent, commanding side of us is just an act, a way of “being tough” for the outside world – it is who we really are but we also have another side that’s far from being less than true. Both sides are equally us – and each one feeds the other. The strong side helps us to grow and explore and to protect ourselves in a world that is by no means always benevolent or benign. But our “submissive” side, the part of us that will always be a young girl – playful, loving, and constantly reassured by a having a stronger, guardian force there to nurture and guide us – helps to give the womanly, independent side some strength.

Look at Gloria hiding a tear when she announced that her husband has decided to flee the country just to save what’s left of the family’s “good” (duh) name. Look at Susan, giving off dramatic scripts disguised as speeches in the name of her beloved albeit philandering demised spouse. Hillary was heads up while her husband’s other head was being worked up. Imelda and Cory are still in a catfight about whose boylet is better than the other. Imagine! These are STRONG INDEPENDENT WOMEN who basically didn’t need any of their men’s shortcomings but then, look at them crusading for their Y-chromosomed significant others. Why are they championing these men who in any feminist’s dictionary would be defined either as a JERK or a WIMP? (okay count out Ninoy) Aren’t these women supposed to be SMART?

As strong women, we don’t want to be TAKEN OVER of course! But we don’t mind being TAKEN IN HAND. Perhaps, in some cases it could be an iron hand in a velvet glove. But what is written in the fine print is this: We bow down to offer ourselves to our masters, and find that they have crowned us QUEENS.

There’s a quote that I like from Madame du Deffand, an 18th century French socialite. She said “Women are never stronger than when they arm themselves with their weaknesses.”

So, probably, when I do walk that aisle sometime in the future, I wouldn’t have to flinch when the priest starts saying that I, WOMAN should “SUBMIT” myself to thy SPOUSE. I’ll just say I DO and give him the sheepish grin. I know better now.

Better Late Than Never... My MJ Memorial Blog

I know most, if not the whole world, is still grieving about Michael Jackson’s death. In my case though, I have only just begun my mourning. When I first got the text message of MJ’s death very early in the morning last June 26 (He died June 25, 3:24pm Pacific Time) I thought I was just dreaming. It was my hell week for the commemorative book project that I was going nuts over (and losing precious sleep over too) which explains why the tragic and shocking news didn’t enter my fuzzy sphere of reality that time. Sorry Michael I was too sleepy and tired to bother about your death. 

Now that I’m back in my “senses” I feel so left out. I regret missing up on a lot, if not all, of the specials and tributes that were showing simultaneously on several channels up until his grand memorial last July 7 in Los Angeles, which was aired LIVE on CNN for the all the world to witness. I cried watching the memorial service not only because I am an MJ fan but also because I was reminded of the fact that despite having a strange life, he was still human just like all of us – he had a family, children, and a childhood that paved the way for his success… and also his sadness. 

He was planning a comeback concert but God had already planned his farewell gig. Come to think of it, I think it was better this way. Imagine if he continued to live on ‘til he was 60 or 70 but with the tabloids still eating him up? He might as well be the dead. The world is cruel and that will NEVER change. When he sang “Heal the World” he was most probably singing about his hope for his own healing. Michael, though he was a superstar, is still that shy and insecure kid that all the bullies would love to pick on. You and I at some point in our lives were bullies to him. The paparazzi bullied him. The tabloids bullied him. The industry bullied him. We bullied him by wanting to own every little piece of him through media. I wonder sometimes, is his MUSIC not enough to entertain us? Do we really have to fuel the evilness of media by wanting to know more of his personal life… by dredging in the dirt? What did we gain then out of it? In the end, we even lost him.

Michael Jackson’s demise should remind us to respect people even if we deem them unworthy of such. We should not judge. We should not hate. We should not ridicule. It’s ironic how everybody only stops talking trash about someone when that person is already dead. Why can’t we say nice words to people when they’re still alive? When they still need it? Michael needed a lot of love and though he gave his heart to the world through his music, he didn’t get any love back. 

What was your stand when he was being tried for child molestation? What did you think when his skin was turning white? What was your reaction when he was seen “dangling” his baby out the window? Maybe you had a good laugh back then. Maybe you believed the accusations. Maybe you think he deserved it. If you did then maybe you have no right to cry over his passing after all.