I am not a certified journalist, let alone a formally-trained writer. When I was barely five years old, two separate incidents led me into having a love affair with words. First, my maternal aunt (who just graduated from college at the time) gave me her old trusty typewriter as sort of a gift after finding out how I love playing with the keys and typing anything that catches my fancy. Shortly after, my father started buying second-hand hard-bound books (mostly Hardy Boys and Nancy Drew) hoping that he will get me into reading. Both elders were successful in getting me productively busy during idle days from school. After I finish reading one book, my mind would wander off and create stories that would initially mimic the genre I love the most – mystery. Funny but I would even make crudely-drawn posters out of it like the cover of a paperback novel bought at Alemar’s or Goodwill Bookstore. Not many of you know that I also inherited my father’s talent in drawing/sketching. It’s a skill that I never really harnessed until college when female classmates would ask me to sketch gowns/dresses for their debuts.

My love for books never ceased. During high school at the seminary, I collected Agatha Christie & Daphne du Maurier novels which I voraciously read one after another. And when college at UST came, I leveled up with my choice of authors, even if I found myself constantly drawn to the works of Stephen King, John Irving and Ian McEwan. By this time, I knew that writing is something that comes naturally, even if I needed to be spoiled with inspirations most of the time. But being the Psychology major that I am, the talent was fully utilized in writing Psychological assessments of mental patients which eventually evolved into my first corporate job doing long write-ups for employees who wanted to be promoted or who are applying for overseas work contracts.

In all of these, my love for pageants was always a given. And so, I would intermittently pore my head over Miss Universe and Bb. Pilipinas twice a year. None of those type-written musings ever got published. They were neatly organized in a mid-sized antique treasure chest in our ancestral house in Hagonoy, Bulacan which – sadly – is now gone forever after a fire gutted the entire property more than five years ago today.

Blogging came as a result of advancements in technology back in 2009. At first, I thought that an online personal journal would suffice given my less-than-reliable track record in keeping locked diaries filled-up. But when readers and followers started trickling in, I knew that I was on to something. It was good motivation to say the least. The initial mix of travel stories, movie reviews and pageant stories was eventually streamlined to focus mainly on what I love to write about – beauty contests. And the rest – as they say – is history.

On this Good Friday, I’d like to thank God for giving me this gift – a gift for words that I got to link with pageantry and everything that comes with it. I may not be perfect, as the grammar nazis will attest to. But I always try to learn even at my age when people would make jokes about senior moments (I’m definitely not in that category yet haha) or why a mature-looking individual like myself would be so into writing about young beauty queens and kings.

I also thank God for the gift of smile which lifts me up everytime I am down or stressed. Seldom will you see me unsmiling in photos because I never allow myself to be photographed without flashing a big smile.

Lastly, I thank God for the gift of loyal readers, followers and critics. I have learned time and again to brush off intrigues at the onset and relish the praises with humility. Life is too short to linger in the company of negative-minded people because they always have problems for every solution. I just let ill comments slide because there are just so many things to write about and little time to squeeze all my thoughts in a 24-hour period. To even engage in a heated exchange of unpleasant statements is a complete waste of time.

These are the reflections of a not-so-accidental blogger this Lenten period. My apologies if I got carried away. I was inside the church praying and the words just came flooding in when the air conditioning units were opened by the caretakers. I got cooled off and this article is the result. Finished in 23 minutes flat. 😉