I finally made my first website!!!


Oh i missed this blog!

It’s been more than a month since I posted my last article here. I wasn’t even able to finish the Writing 101 challenge. It’s sad because I missed some of the great topics. But nonetheless, I’m thankful because the challenge paved the way to the creation of my new self-hosted blog.

After signing up for my domain and web hosting service, I self-learned web development. It was challenging because I knew nothing about it. I watched youtube tutorials, I read how-to articles, and went through a lot of trial and error processes.

My website crashed several times while I was working on it. I almost gave up when I couldn’t make things right. It even got to a point where I searched for local web developers to finish my blog or just start from scratch since it’s totally messed up.

But I stayed patient and determined. And it sure did pay off.

In less than a month, my website went live. I posted some of the articles that I’ve written few months back. I continued to improve and make changes on my blog to make it look just exactly the way I wanted.

It’s not perfect but I am very happy with it. Never in my entire life had I thought that I could make my own website. I didn’t have a background in any computer-related field and I knew it wasn’t my thing at all.

But I realized that if you really want something, no matter how difficult or challenging it may seem, there is always a way to do it. And that’s if you’re patient and determined enough to get it done.


Having said all that, I would like to introduce my first ever self-made website, www.pinayinvestor.com

This is a personal finance website and I know that not everybody likes topics on this niche but I hope you could visit my site soon.

I will greatly appreciate it if you could also share your thoughts or suggestions on how I can improve my new site.


Thank you for reading and I hope to see you at www.pinayinvestor.com



I’m not giving up this blog.  I love this site. This is where I started and I will forever be grateful of the knowledge and skills I developed when I started writing here. I may not be a good writer, but writing here has helped me develop self-confidence to express my thoughts and share my experiences through blogging.


Writing 101, Day 14: Dear LOAN…

Pick up the nearest book and flip to page 29. What’s the first word that jumps off the page? Start there, and try a twist: write in the form of a letter.


This is another interesting topic brought to me by Blogging University. 🙂

I grabbed the nearest book on my desk and I excitedly flipped it to page 29. The first word that jumped off the page was LOAN. Interesting! Now I’m going to write a letter to ‘him’.

Dear Mr. Loan,

It’s really surprising that you were the first one I saw when I flipped the page. I have been thinking about you in the past few months. Was it a coincidence or was it really meant for me? That I don’t know either.

I said that I’ve been thinking about you because I have been planning to ask for your help. Last year, we planned to buy a house and lot. We paid the reservation fee and tried to apply for Pag-ibig Housing Loan but we changed our mind and decided not to continue with it.

Next year we’re planning to buy a brand new car, and I’m thinking about you again. Shall we apply for a car loan? Or shall we focus first on our other priorities?

Two years ago, I borrowed P15,000 ($300) from you even if I didn’t need it. I mean, the only reason I applied for SSS loan was because my colleagues were saying I should take advantage of it, otherwise others will do. Another thing was, they said that the next time I apply for SSS loan, it would be much higher. So I did. I don’t remember where I used it for but I thank you for lending me that amount. But I just want to remind you

business and I’m kinda thinking about you again… You are easy money for us but paying you with interest in two years seems so long. I hate the idea of going to your office or to the bank monthly to pay you that it’s already fully paid.

Now, I’m venturing into an online on installment basis. Can I just pay you in full after two years? Oh yes plus the interest of course. I wish it’s possible but I know it isn’t.

I’m also thinking about getting a loan from a relative. But it’s still you. It’s easier I think. No papers, no bond, no long term commitment. I can pay it in full earlier if I can. I don’t need to wait for two years. But I hate the idea that I’m taking responsibility for other people’s money. It’s giving me too much pressure.

I know this is your business. You earn from this and you’re a big help to a lot of people. I don’t hate you but as much as possible I don’t want to ask help from you. Just don’t turn your back on me when I need you, please.


Your client,


Writing 101, Day 13: Lessons Learned (My 10-peso coins were gone! – Part II)

Earlier in the course, you wrote about losing something. Today, write about finding something. For your twist, view day four’s post and today’s post as installments in a series.


Today’s assignment is supposed to be a continuation of our fourth post. My Day 4 topic was about my stolen coins. So here goes the second part…

When I wrote about my coins that were stolen, I was very depressed and angry then. I wanted to know who stole it. And I even thought that whoever stole it would come to me and admit what he did and ask forgiveness for what he has done. And I thought that for this post’s part II, I will be able to tell you who the culprit was and why he did it.

However, it didn’t happen. Up to this day, I still don’t know who he or she was. But I’m not as depressed and mad anymore as when I first wrote about it. I already forgave whoever stole it. It was valuable to me but I learned to accept that it’s already gone.

This incident has taught me a lot of lessons. I hope these help you too.


  1. Keep your valuable stuff in the safest place. You won’t realize how important it is until it’s gone.


  1. Lock your room when not at home. This will lessen the temptation for others to go inside a room that was left unlocked.


  1. Learn to accept a loss. Those coins were of sentimental value to me even if it wasn’t much. It was hard for me that they’re gone but I learned to accept it. Everything in this world is temporary. Those coins were just one of my material things. I have a lot more things right now that I have to be thankful about. My family, my daughter – they are way better than these material stuff.


  1. Everything happens for a reason. I don’t know the reason behind the stealing of my coins but I hoped he used it for a good purpose. I don’t know either why it was taken from my possession. Maybe to teach me these lessons.


  1. Last but not the least, forgive and forget. I think this is the hardest but definitely the best lesson I learned. Like what I mentioned earlier, I already forgave whoever stole my coins. Forgetting about it is in the process but I know I’m getting there.

Writing 101, Day 12: I wished I asked “How are you?” when I had the chance

Today, take a cue from something you’ve overheard and write a post inspired by a real-life conversation. Revisit a time when you wish you’d spoken up, reminisce about an important conversation that will always stick with you, or tune in to a conversation happening around you right now and write your reaction.


One evening, I heard my dad talking to someone over the phone. After their conversation, I asked him who he was talking to. He said it was my cousin, who just got a job at the airport in Tacloban City, Leyte. He referred my cousin to his friend who works as Engineer at the airport, and now he was advising him to work efficiently and be kind to his colleagues. My cousin had been unemployed for a couple of years and if I’m not mistaken it was his first job ever. And he just started working on October 1st of last year, 2013.

Anyways, upon knowing that it was my cousin, I suddenly missed him. He is the youngest son of my mom’s eldest sister. He’s a little bit shy but he smiles all the time. He has a sense of humor and he cracks some jokes oftentimes. He’s nice and kind. He is four years older than me but we were close especially when I was in high school. Sometimes he would refer me to his guy friends and would tell them that I had a crush on one of the guys. He’s so funny.

I haven’t seen him for a long while. The last time I talked to him was during one of my vacations in the province while on semestral break.

I felt excited for him that he already got a job. I wanted to ask him how he is and have some sort of catching up over the phone so I asked for his number from my dad. I got it. I don’t know what came up that time, maybe I did something else or I was called by my mom, until I totally forgot about texting/calling him.

Tacloban Airport is covered by debris after powerful Typhoon Haiyan hit Tacloban city (courtesy to the owner)

Tacloban Airport is covered by debris after powerful Typhoon Haiyan  (courtesy to the owner of this photo)

Fast forward, November 8, 2013, came Typhoon Yolanda (typhoon Haiyan), which was one of the strongest tropical cyclones ever recorded. My parents were both in Tacloban that time. We were so worried. Thank God, we heard from them five days after the typhoon. They were very fortunate to have survived from that deadly calamity. But my cousin, who was working at the airport, had never been seen until the authorities found his corpse with his ID, near the airport four months later.

I regret that I wasn’t able to catch up with him while he was still alive. I wished I called him back right away when I got his number from my dad. I wished I was able to talk to him and ask him how he was and his new job, or if he had a girlfriend or had a new crush, just like our normal conversations when we were teenagers. But it was too late. I never got the chance to see and talk to him again.

Life indeed has full of uncertainties. We never know what will happen later or tomorrow.  My cousin was only 32 and he was barely a month at his first job. We all thought that it was a good start for him. Little did we know that he was already off to a new beginning, in heaven.

Writing 101, Day 11: From One Home to Another

Today, tell us about the home you lived in when you were twelve. For your twist, pay attention to — and vary — your sentence lengths.

This is what I like about this blogging/writing 101 thing. I get to write the least or even never thought of topics like this one. It’s challenging and exciting at the same time. And for this topic, actually I was just trying to recall the home where I lived in when I was 12 but it turned out to be a list of the houses and homes that our family had while I was growing up. So here’s what I came up with for today’s assignment.


For almost 30 years, my mom worked in the government as a telegraph operator. Due to the nature of her job, she had to be assigned from one place to another. Thus, we had to transfer homes from time to time.

When I was around 2-3 years old, we lived in a small nipa hut right in front of our house now. It had a bamboo stair with only 2 steps. I don’t know why we stayed in that house. The only thing I remember is, it was a rainy day, my father cooked rice and he put it on a wide, orange, plastic plate. I don’t even know what the significance of this is but clearly this is only what I remember on that house. As in nothing more.

this is how our old nipa hut looks like

Then my mom was reassigned to another town. I and my younger brother were sent to our maternal grandparents’ house. I was around 4-5 years old then. It was an old house made of wood with red cement flooring. There was one room at the lower ground floor which I remembered was being flooded whenever there’s a heavy rain. We would usually take an afternoon nap in that same room with my younger brother. There was no electric fan. But the fresh air coming through the open windows was incomparable. There was also a wooden terrace, where we usually played hide and seek during the day, and where we hang out during the night while staring at the stars.

my grandparents’ old house

When I turned 6, I was already in our house now. I don’t remember much about that house back then. What I remember is, I attended kindergarten and I was the class valedictorian. I don’t remember if I was smart or what. But I knew I was the most behaved in class. Meaning, someone who doesn’t talk or recite but I got good grades. I was just too shy to speak in front of the class, which I carried over until high school.

My dad made a temporary room made of huge blankets and that’s where my mom gave birth to my youngest sister. I remember, I would sneak a peek at the room where my mom was breastfeeding my baby sister, and I was jealous.


When I was 7 to 9 years old, my family moved to another town again. My mom rented a small apartment made of wood, in front of the town plaza. Half of the space was elevated. One side was a small room where we keep our clothes. The other side was the space which served as the playground of my little sister who then was just starting to walk. And that’s the same space where we all sleep at night. On the lower ground, without any cement flooring, just pure soil; there was a small, round dining table.

A year after, that apartment was renovated and divided into two rooms. The right one was ours while the other one was rented by another family. So our house got smaller. The living room, dining room and the sleeping room were all in one place. Happy place, isn’t it? But I had a lot of fond memories in that little abode.

When I was in grade 3, I was 9 then, my family finally moved back to our own house, the house that we have now in the province. Then I turned 12. I was a grown up. The house almost looked the same as now except that it had fewer cabinets and no room back then. I don’t think it’s big. It’s not wide either. But it’s kind of elongated. I don’t know how to call it. We had a garage, even if we didn’t have a car. The living room was wide. Maybe because there was no sala set in there. There was a wooden divider that my dad made to divide the living room from the kitchen. There was a dirty kitchen on one side and the ‘clean kitchen’ on the other side. And we had a long 10-seater wooden table with 2 long wooden benches. Then there was the bathroom and the laundry area on the side. Few steps away, there was a big storage room, then another cooking area, and finally a small garden with banana trees.

On the second floor, was a wide space where we had all our cabinets, clothes, and all other stuff on all sides while the open space was where we all sleep together.  There was no room division that time. But we already had that same terrace that we have now. There were full of bougainvillea plants on the terrace. We love hanging out there especially during the night when there are stars in the sky.

Writing 101, Day 10: Happy Pancit Day!

Today, tell us about your favorite childhood meal — the one that was always a treat, that meant “celebration,” or that comforted you and has deep roots in your memory.

Free to focus on any aspect of the meal, from the food you ate to the people who were there to the event it marked. Today’s twist: Tell the story in your own distinct voice.


I may sound bitter but I never had a kiddie party. My family lived a simple life in the province. I don’t remember having a birthday party for myself when I was a kid. And that may be one of the reasons why I had so much insecurity when I was growing up.

pancit sardinas
I know that there’s a celebration in the family if there’s “pancit bihon” or rice noodles. Since my parents usually don’t have enough budget for celebrations, this pancit is just made of simple and cheap ingredients including tuna sardines and a little bit of cabbage and carrots. Then my mom would buy a loaf of bread and we use the pancit as sandwich spread. If there’s extra money, my parents would also buy a liter of coke. And together, we all eat happily.

Sometimes I would think that parties don’t need to be as expensive. Other people don’t need to spend so much or have so much to celebrate a birthday especially if they really can’t afford to do so. Sometimes, celebrating it with your loved ones even with a simple menu on the table is all it takes to have a happy celebration.

Writing 101, Day 9: A Scene from 3 Points of View

Here’s our assignment for Day 9:

A man and a woman walk through the park together, holding hands. They pass an old woman sitting on a bench. The old woman is knitting a small, red sweater. The man begins to cry. Write this scene.

Today’s twist: write the scene from three different points of view: from the perspective of the man, then the woman, and finally the old woman.


When I was 5, my parents separated. My dad took me with him. I didn’t know what happened. I never saw my mom since then. I kept asking my dad where mom was but he never cared to answer. Then he married another woman. My step mom. Who never considered me as his son. Who never treated me well. Who was always angry with me even with no reasons. Then I would miss my mom. I want to find her. I want to know where she is. I want to know why she left me.
When I was 3, she gave me a small, red jacket. I liked it. I used it almost every day. Whenever they request me to dance, I won’t do it unless I have my jacket on. That old woman, who’s knitting that small, red jacket, reminds me of my dearest mom. I missed her so much. Where are you now mom? I want to see you. I want you to know that I love you.. Please come back mom. Please… (now I’m crying..)



Look at her. She’s knitting a small, red sweater. That must be for her granddaughter. That’s so sweet of her. When I was little, I used to live at my maternal grandmother’s house. She had a sewing machine which she uses when she makes something like a dress or some pillow cases. When there are extra fabrics, she makes little dresses for me. I loved it. Sometimes she makes one for her and one for me. We’re like twins when we wear the same dress. I miss my grandma. And that old woman must be missing her granddaughter too that’s why she’s knitting that sweater for her…



When I was a kid, I never had a sweater. I was abandoned on the street. I slept through the coldness of the night. I had to check the trash cans trying to find something to wear. Something that would give me a little comfort. I felt so poor. I didn’t know where my parents were. I didn’t know why I was on the streets. I had no food. I had no house. I had no sweater. I had nothing. I pity the little me. Poor little kid. Why did it have to happen to you? Why you? This sweater that I’m knitting is for the little me. I want you to feel comfort with this. I knew you didn’t have this when you were small. I knew how you wished you had parents who could give you even a small sweater for you to wear during the cold nights. So this is for you, little kid. Come on, wear it. I made it just for you. Only for you…