Thinking Out Loud

The Library I Can Barely Remember

2011-10-25T04:24:00.000-07:00

I’m checking a thesis paper of a bunch of college kids. Yes, instead of stretching my mind to think of marketing plans, I am checking the review of related literature of a thesis. It sucks all the energy out of me especially when I’ve had too little sleep last night. And seeing all the grammatical errors and incoherent statements does not help. And these kids texting me makes it a bit worse. Patience. Patience.

This study is about automating a current library system of their college, and I’m thinking: Your library isn’t automated yet??? It’s 2011! And I can already imagine how their library looks like. Card catalogs. Library cards. My heart goes for them. That’s just one among the many sad things in the educational system in third world countries. Not to mention that their school is a private one. But it’s good at least they are starting somewhere. They better get this approved and not just a pass to graduate.

Anyhow, my brain cannot accommodate being concerned with the outdated condition of the educational system in the country. I’ve read too much bar code system and information system in the paper my brain is about to explode. If it were about psychology, I might have been a little more interested.

So, reading their paper makes me recall what my college library looks like. I guess I can’t help comparing. I’ve been to the library once in a while. Borrowed books for my own pleasure. I guess that’s where I first read Og Mandino’s work. I used to hang out there to study. Yes, I was one of those students who actually made it a point to study.

Ten years ago, we already had an automated system and I believe it was already functional even when my sister was going there. So that makes it 18 years or so. Well, that university would always be ahead in terms of technology. Anyway, our library was cozy and uh, well, quiet of course. And very, very, very cold. That made the place a favorite spot of sleepy students who pretended to be swallowed up in reading, but actually… you know what I mean.

It was easy to locate the books as we had a system to identify where they were located or if there were still any copies available. And there were different sections in the building. We had Cybernook downstairs where there was always a clamor for a computer spot. Friendster days made it difficult to find an available slot. On the fourth floor was the Filipiniana section. I had to go there too for my Literature papers etc. There was also a section for all the back issues of newspapers, magazines, etc. Some were still on hard copy, and some were already on a film copy. It was also fun searching for articles I cannot remember what for. The archives section is the least area I visited. When I got there first, fresh from the province, I didn’t even know how to pronounce archives! And I graduated with honors in high school. What a shame.

Of all the libraries I have ever visited, I believe that library is one of the most organized and highly sophisticated ones. Back then, I used to think if I ever used the library enough. Well, the library fee that my parents paid was quite high. At least I should have utilized it.

Alright, back to the thesis. I have to finish this soon.

Writing With No Idea

2011-06-08T23:11:00.000-07:00

I don't know how this post will turn out. I just feel like there are a lot of stuff going on inside my head and I need to have an outlet. I haven't written anything for a long time and the thoughts are just piling up already.

Thought #1: This morning I was taking a shower when I began talking to myself (like I always do). I have the tendency to push myself hard and have high expectations from myself. That's why I get anxious often. I want to get things done and on time, and I stress myself on thinking how to do that.

Right now, I am working at my dad's business again. It's been a year since I decided to leave the business, and now I'm back. Anyway, I don't have the time to explain why I ended up helping out here again. My concern is just to groom someone who could be like me to take care of the marketing side of the business, so I can have the liberty to do the things that I really want to do without being guilty of being selfish and leaving my family in the middle of a need.

Anyway, going back to this morning's shower, I decided to be easy on myself. It's only Thursday. I don't need to rise a marketing executive in just 4 days. Maybe I'm just getting a bit impatient. So.... whew... I'm calm...

Thought #2: Working in the business and the church is harder than I thought. Setting the priorities and managing my time? Ugh, I get sleepy at 8:30pm! I feel I'm getting tensed each day. Tomorrow I was told I need to go to the finance officer of the church to absorb the responsibility of our finance from her. (head spinning)

Let's see what happens. I think I'm just getting too overwhelmed with wanting to be good in everything I do that I end up not being able to perform well at all.

"Hi"

2009-05-13T23:37:00.000-07:00

*Another people-from-the-past post*

I find meeting people from childhood exciting. I can just imagine them 15 years ago - all those soiled looks because of endless playing, the talking about the cartoon shows that seemed so important then, all those little fights - then suddenly bump into them one day all grown up. I find it interesting to see how they look and behave now.

A few months ago, I learned that an employee of one of the biggest clients I have right now was a classmate in grade school. We've talked a lot on the phone and she was pretty nice to me. She was even addressing me very politely and was accommodating with my requests and inquiries.

So when I got an invitation for a supplier's engagement in their company, I was thrilled to see her and maybe catch up a little. After all I haven't seen her since 6th grade. Honestly, I'm not really fond of small talks with people from the past whom I have not shared relevant memories with, and I have to admit sometimes I even hide (literally) to people if I'm not in a very nice mood to greet them (which happens very often). But with this particular case, I was really excited. Her being my client added up to the excitement of course.

I entered the conference room with a bunch of people in the registration area and instantly I spotted her. Even with glasses on, I already recognized her. I put on the warmest smile I could ever give to someone and waited for her to return my look.

Finally, she saw me.

"Hi." And she went back to fixing whatever those papers were and instructing all those in the registration.

That was all I got. I didn't have the nerve to go on with the "how are you" after my friendliest "hi" since she didn't seem interested on pursuing any form of conversation with me.

I don't recall any instance that I was mean to her nor did we fight in 6th grade. Even so, it was in 6th grade for goodness' sake. I wonder why was she not so pleasant as she seemed on the phone. I'm thinking maybe she thought it was improper to be all friendly in a professional setting as that. Or maybe she was not just in the mood. Is this what I get from hiding from people? Or maybe she's just not very friendly at all. The bad thing is, I felt a certain air of arrogance in her actions and even in her short hi. It felt like "Oh well I work in this company and you're just my contractor."

Obviously, I'm overanalyzing again. I may be overreacting but I really find her greeting very forced and rude.

I just wish I wasn't that excited to deserve a very ordinary reaction.

It's Hard to be Ugly

2009-05-12T01:45:00.000-07:00

I had a short chat with a former college classmate whom I have not seen for more than 5 years already. I’m really surprised every time I bump into “old people” in my life and after the how are you’s, the next question would automatically be “are you getting married yet?” or “do you have a boyfriend?” At this age, is it really mandatory to ask those questions? (Maybe I’m overanalyzing this again because I don’t have a boyfriend haha. That's a different story.)

Anyway, so I had to tell the truth of course that I’m not seeing anyone. Instinctively, I felt I had to ask him the same question. And more surprisingly, he said “It’s hard to be ugly.”

Wait!!! I don’t know how to answer that statement! Should I boost his confidence? Should I say oh poor you…?

Most guys I get to talk with have a big mouth, talking endlessly about themselves. Even if they are not objectively handsome, they remain to be OVERLY confident, which sometimes leaves me wondering where they get that confidence from. So I guess, I find those guys “normal.”

However, this is one very rare case that a guy bluntly said to me that he is ugly. If ever I need to ask a guy if he’s seeing anyone, I would expect a plain yes or no answer and then shift back to talking about himself. I don’t really like guys who feel that every species on earth would swoon at the sight of them, but meeting someone who does not have even scraps of confidence makes me draw back from him.

I almost told him he will never have a girlfriend if he talks like that to everyone he meets! Does he think anyone would still go out with him after hearing him say that he himself thinks he is ugly? But of course I didn’t go all motherly with him and give him a lecture on how to handle proper conversation with girls!

But maybe he’s just kidding? Nah, no sane person would do that.

When Writing About Me is Hard To Do

2009-05-03T19:19:00.000-07:00

I read several blogs almost everyday and most of the time I am amazed how people are able to open up their life online.

I find it hard to write about me. Originally, this blog should serve that purpose. But my daily dilemma when I face the computer is- what do I write about?

Main reasons why I find it hard to write about me:

1. My life seems boring. Can't find anything interesting to write about. I spend about 10 hours a day at work. That's a family business so technically I'm with my family 24/7.
2. Some of my real friends know this blog so I can't really say what I want to say without worrying about spilling too much.
3. I write me in a third person. I mask my life stories into something not-so-me. My other blog reflects more about me.
4. I'm afraid of being judged. Too much. Even if about 80% who gets to read my blog don't know me at all, I feel people can see right through me and have a preconceived idea of me.
5. Clearly, I overthink.

For Comments and Suggestions...

2009-04-28T19:40:00.000-07:00

Do you see those "for comments and suggestions, write/call us at..." in food labels?

I'm the kind of customer who always writes them back. Always. Call me weird but I just love talking to customer representatives, commenting on their new packaging, complaining on the services. Everything there is to comment about. Maybe I got that from my Service Marketing class in college. I never want to get less than what I'm paying for. So even in restaurants, I'm such a pain in the ass.

Last week I had this random desire to write a company. I sent an email to Nestle Philippines who manufacture Chuckie. It's a chocolate drink and I've always loved it since I was a kid. (It was not called Chuckie then.) I had a "problem" with its straw, which they changed to make it more fun, supposedly. But it wasn't fun at all. The straw that should be able to extend, most of the time, is detached, which leaves me and my dad having to drink from just half of the straw. So I wrote them saying I like the old straw better. And I was happy they wrote me back saying they would consider my suggestion on their next product planning.

Have you ever done something like this before? It may not be as strangely irrelevant as this, but I'd like to know if I share this habit with anyone else. =)

8 Stuffs

2009-04-25T05:03:00.000-07:00

This is my second tag from Mel but I haven't done the first one yet.. (Sorry!)

8 Things I look forward to:

1. Playing with my 4-month old niece after office. I love it when she lights up upon seeing me and gives me that huge toothless grin!
2. My 1-year old nephew's first visit in the Philippines. He can walk now and he's so cute when I saw him in YouTube!
3. Watching Wolverine with my church group. I hope I get the free ticket!
4. Beach party with the college kids! It's summer and we're planning to have a youth party. I may have to cook the pasta again for them but well, it's gonna be fun!
5. Spending a weekend with the entire family- as in complete family, with the new members! (Yes, the niece and nephew again.) Maybe we'll just eat out or spend it in Ocean Adventure at Subic.
6. Fire Trees! They bloom in May! I pass by that road every summer just to stare at those trees.
7. Davids concert. Gonna watch it with my century old bud.
8. Another vacation trip this year, just in the country.

8 Things I Did Yesterday

1. Bought new phone, finally!
2. Took a huge glass of lemon juice. It's good for liver detoxification. I take it every morning, as soon as I wake up.
3. Chat with an old friend and updated her on the last break up I've heard. That's the 3rd for this month.
4. Shared a ride with a churchmate who has a calling to become a pastor. That's just amazing!
5. Ate pizza and pasta at Sbarro all by myself while watching previous episodes of Greys Anatomy so I won't seem to be such a big loser for eating alone.
6. Had a therapy to check how my immune system is doing.
7. Explored my new phone I'm really enjoying. Now it's easier to blog anywhere!
8. Checked out couple of blogs and did this tag. I'll do the other one soon, Mel! =)

8 Things I Wish I Could Do

1. Always say the right words at the right time.
2. Sing. Tried voice lessons in the past but still it didn't work. Well, I have an excuse though. I just had 2 sessions of it.
3. Tell what people are thinking.
4. Go to places without needing a passport. (By mere closing of my eyes, perhaps?) I really want to go to Japan this May! Heard it's beautiful there during this season...
5. Understand the meaning of babies' cries and what they really need instead of trying everything before I get it right. I've seen it in Oprah once. (Meanings of baby cries). I'm not sure if it's true, though.
6. Cook. I know how to cook just TWO dishes and I still need a cook book just to make sure sure sure that I get it right.
7. Be like Hiro Nakamura. Go back in time and be at those moments when I could have told my mom how much I love her before she passed away.
8. Carry out the task intended for me to do, before my time is up.

8 Shows I Watch:

1. American Idol. I'm a Gokey fan.
2. Grey's Anatomy
3. Any cooking show that's on.
The end. I spend too much time out or reading, I don't get to watch tv anymore.

I'm tagging everyone now. =) It's quite fun assessing what you're doing everyday or what's going on in your mind. This 8 things really made me think. =)

Two of the Many Me’s

2009-04-20T05:58:00.000-07:00

1st Scenario: I’m with a group of college students having casual conversations- school, clothing, parties, French fries, name it- and I am that chatty and loud person, giggling to almost everything like a little school girl. And they adore me.

2nd Scenario: I’m with a group of people of my age (probably I’m the youngest) and we talk about something more serious- life, Christianity, health, politics (Ugh! I read the paper but I am not a fan of meditating on what’s happening in the country.) Still, I’d like to believe I give relevant insights on these conversations. I may sometimes be lazy, but I’m not dumb to have my opinion on the profundity of things.

So all of these leave me wondering what I’m really like in front of people? Am I the serious type who can deal with talking about life’s complexities or am I the one who laughs crazily over the most insignificant detail one can ever talk about?

I get the respect of different people on different age brackets, from 40 somethings down to 3 year-olds, when I’m really in the intellectual zone. I get all big-sisterly over the college kids and they seem to learn from me. But then again I also do behave in a way that I can relate to them that makes me feel so childish I wonder the other generation would be surprised upon learning how silly I can also get.

I haven’t really been all chatty with the grown ups because I feel compelled to act more maturely. And I ought to. I am 25! They certainly have fun in a different way than the young ones. I do enjoy both, but I’m hesitant to be giggly or to jump in excitement in front them. I’m supposed to be respectable!

Now I wonder, am I authentic or fraud? Am I a grown up or pretending to be?

This Isn't About American Idol

2009-04-16T17:07:00.000-07:00

Yesterday I was all set to go home early to catch up with American Idol’s elimination. Yes, I’m a huge fan (of any singing competition for that matter). I have already searched it online early in the morning and I already knew who was going to be eliminated. Thanks to those blogging live! But still I wanted to catch it on the replay.

On my way home I called my friend who was supposed to be watching the concert of Season 7's two Davids with me this coming May. I couldn't wait to confirm our reservation and she has not answered any of my calls this week! After another try to contact her, she finally picked up. Yay. But it was only for me to find out that she might not make it because of some meeting/conference/seminar. It all sounded the same to me. What else can I do, right?

I already wanted to hang up, thinking of someone else to come with me, but she was trying to hold the call for a few more seconds. All right, you're not decided yet if you want to watch, can we say bye bye now? Finally, after those few seconds of uneasiness, she said she wanted to see me and probably hang out at Starbucks. Oh yeah, I missed a tiny detail. She's the one whose ex recently broadcasted his being in a new relationship. Of course she wanted someone to talk to and sure I wanted to be a good friend.

But...but...my American Idol... "It's elimination today! Matt is going home!" I unknowingly blurted out. Did I just say that?

"What???" I could already imagine her eyes almost bursting into tears. Would I choose a TV show over a friend in need? Her reproach made me feel guilty of course. But I just wanted to loosen her up so instead of going to Starbucks and reinstating how miserable she is, maybe coming over to my house to watch TV wouldn't be so bad? And I'd be happy too! *wink

But then again, I'm not heartless... Instead of my room's big screen, I was up to massive amount of sugar intake! (I try to go away with coffee so I ordered the lesser evil- green tea frapp minus the whipped cream.) I listened to her stories, as if it were the first time I ever heard of it. She was filled with questions and was in denial I've never witnessed in my entire life! They've already had problems for over a year now and officially broke up 7 months ago, but still she feels dejected and cheated.

Of course I know how hard it is. She was still hoping for a reconciliation even when she was told the feelings were not the same anymore and that it was over. Until now. I couldn't bear seeing her that way and I wanted to shake her again and again to wake her up from her nightmare. It's long been over and she couldn't accept it.

No matter what I tell her, I know the choice remains to be hers. Either she locks herself up to that detestable position of wanting to fix something that's long been broken to the point that the pieces already cuts herself, or she accepts the reality already glaring in front of her.

It's going to be a long and agonizing ride.

By the way, I knew there was another replay later that night. =)

Hysteria

2009-04-12T21:42:00.001-07:00

I got a call from my friend 2 hours ago and I knew right away that there was a problem. She never calls on midmornings if everything were fine. And in a split second, she appeared at my office crying her heart out, wailing at the news that her ex-boyfriend has a new girlfriend already. I never thought she’d be able to get to my office after hearing her on the phone. I was thinking she might get into an accident or something. That was how terrible she sounded.

I’ve always had a hard time comforting people crying in front of me. Of course I couldn’t say “don’t worry it’s gonna be okay” knowing that at the state of her hysteria, that kind of consolation is totally unacceptable. If I were in her place, that would really be illogical.

I was thinking how would I want to be consoled in that situation? I’ve had my share of heartbreaks and my mind was closed from any form of explanation. All I wanted was to pour out my misery and to be heard.

Maybe that was what she needed as well. But still, would I just sit there watching her burst in tears? It was kind of awkward to even touch her as I might invade her personal space in her panic attack and suffer all her surfacing rage! I didn’t want to be hit or slapped in the face after all.

By some magical moments that have passed, she calmed down. And I had to be hard on her saying that it’s over. (As if I were the one who broke up with her.) She had to hear it straight because between her little sobs, I could already hear her unthinkable ideas that it might not be true, maybe that was just a joke.

I mean, c’mon! It was as clear as the summer sky that the guy had already moved on. And I cannot accept that a dear friend of mind would be stuck in a deep, pathetic mess while the ex is already building his new fairy tale story. My pride could not accept that. The hitting/slapping possibility seemed to have faded already that’s why I had to the courage to shake her up a little bit.

She’s the kind of girl who needs everyone she loves to be at her side at times of distress. She was starting to compose herself when calls started coming in and friends started dropping by at that very moment to console her. I could already imagine her repeating the same story over and over again.
Break ups, whew.

Can You Keep A Secret?

2009-04-10T09:30:00.000-07:00

I've read this book by Sophie Kinsella two weeks ago. You bet nobody could talk to me for 8 hours straight. For a moment my world was eaten alive by this book.

It was a fun read. Secrets were just a plain no-tell stuffs for me, never magnified nor were given much emphasis before this book (at least for me). It's funny how nonsense secrets can turn a person's world around by a mere outburst of emotions, not holding a single thing back.

I've always been a fan of easy-read, light novels. (That's why I can't seem to finish Persuasion by Jane Austen hehe.)

My everyday, harmless-to-spill secrets...

1. Looking at a stranger - I may be judging him for what he's wearing. I may be wondering, could he be The One. Or I may be saying, you could've at least combed your hair before stepping out of your house.

2. Spending my 8 working hours - I tire myself out sorting all the problems of the business. I stare blankly at the computer, wishing I were just writing instead. I dream of being employed somewhere else. Could I just vanish and transport myself into a world of my own making? (I'm not saying I wish to be a complete schizo huh.)

3. Before going to bed - Can I just call on sick tomorrow at work? I don't want to, but I have to brush my teeth! Would God understand if I skip the bible and just say a quick prayer?

4. Wanting to buy a good pair of shoes - Eyes all wide at the price tag and proudly say, "Oh well, it's really not that beautiful." *Heart breaking*

5. Walking in the mall - Are they staring? (But actually I've learned people don't stare at others because they are way too busy thinking if people are staring at them too!)

We all have secrets. Some are as petty as my harmless-to-spill, but it is so unimaginable if our most precious secrets were spilled out uncontrollably! In my case, I would be in an immensely shameful situation! My dad giving me a full day lecture for not being the perfect boss, people staring and having to read my mind, friends laughing at my expense! Oh dear...

An Old Photo

2009-04-05T17:34:00.001-07:00

My brother gave me this photo of my mom this morning, asking me to keep it. I looked at the photo of her and my dad walking down the aisle not as bride and groom but as principal sponsors in a wedding. My mom was wearing flat shoes and I instantly thought, she was not very fashionable!

My mom went through a lot in the past. I mean when I was in grade school, she already had brain surgery. Probably her 9th surgery by then. Who in the world could have endured series of surgeries in her lifetime?

She was a CPA and an Accounting teacher before she had that operation. People respected her, and listened to what she had to say (or else they'd fail). I used to hear comments that my mom was a tough teacher, but it didn't bother me. I was even proud that her students gave a high regard when they heard my mom's name.

I heard all our close relatives worried about my mom. They said that there was a possibility that she could no longer remember any of us after the surgery, or she may totally lose her mobility, practically half-dead. All of us waited in anguish.

A particular story by my aunt marked on me. After the surgery, she checked on my mom on the recovery room, I suppose. She saw my mom opened her eyes and looked at her. She was praying God make her remember...make her remember... My mom lifted her hand slowly and waved at her. My aunt was overjoyed that she didn't respond to my mom, rather she ran away and spread the good news to everyone else. Wasn't my mom a tough lady?

But after the surgery she had to quit teaching as her speech and her right hand were a little impaired. She could still write, but not as magnificent as she used to. She was having problems with her balance and preferred not to wear her high heels anymore. She stammered a little when she spoke, but her smile was still the same. That warm smile she always gave to everyone around her.

I used to sit by her as she practiced her speech, reading aloud every newspaper and books at hand. She went through a therapy to make her right hand stronger. She was putting different things in their respective holes as her training.

I knew she was having a hard time, and she cried sometimes. But she was a survivor. And with her perseverance in therapy and her determination to get better, I admired her more. Not everyone would still have the same passion in life after going through a long, agonizing recovery she had to go through. She continued her profession and remained managing her accounting firm and later on, she could very well write her very precious signature.

And after all that, there she was on that aisle, all professional-like, respectable and very adorable in my eyes, even with her flat shoes!

Midday Madness

2009-03-19T22:19:00.000-07:00

It’s just midday and my head’s already spinning from countless ideas I thought I should be writing about rather than just imagining myself doing.

I always have delayed reactions over things. My dad/boss always criticizes me for not having a timetable, for not setting up a deadline coz I’m always late. (Based on his own schedule, that is).

But the thing is, it’s not that I don’t plan the things that I do. I overdo it. I overthink things, literally. I am a perfectionist who lives in a tiny imaginative world. I set up high standards for myself, for my family, for the business, for the church, for the world! And I gaze on it, lost in oblivion. What do I do with it? Where do I start?

This happens only when I am already bored and also when I’m pressured or threatened or just sick of the things that I do. Ergo, it happens all the time. I’ve ALWAYS tried to figure out what’s not right. With everything that I’ve already said, that’s already predictable, eh? I blamed the circumstances and the people around me. But sometimes on my dark moments, I become hard on myself and blame everything on me why I can’t meet my own standards.

It’s all about perspective. It’s all about attitude. It’s all about choosing to be happy. I know every inch of it. I’ve heard and read everything about it. I’ve studied it all, and trained myself to “look at things differently.”

I guess it’s just hard to be in a situation that your entire being simply doesn’t agree with but you just can’t get out of.

I know, I know. The choice to be happy still applies.

Shall I think about it more? Argh.

When your efforts are not being recognized

2009-02-19T19:55:00.000-08:00

Yesterday, I got all the check marks I've been dreading to see on my daily planner. It was a nice list with all the accomplished tasks. My sister and my brother whom I am working with in our business are off to vacation in Palawan & Boracay. Click here and you'll understand why I'm a little envious, aside from the fact that they left me with all their unresolved problems here.

Nevertheless, I've found some form of encouragement yesterday and was so enthusiastic with my work. Have you ever got that feeling that you are just truly satisfied with your day, as if you were the most diligent person in the world? Those check marks were simply rewarding.

Sadly, it took me just 24 hours to savor that feeling of fulfillment. This morning, somehow all the positive outlook seemed to escape me after I was robbed of that very nice feeling I was trying to hold yesterday. It was a total 180-degree turn. Thoughts of futile efforts, not being able to do my job well (with other people's standards, that is), and settling for little accomplishments (when in fact I have yet done anything based on other people's standards again) kept bugging me all throughout the day.

So I had to reorganize my thoughts before going to bed. I had to remind myself of my role and my purpose in everything that I do. I know if I let all these overpower me, I'd get nowhere. Initial thought. But how do I get out of it?

I'm still in that thinking process.

When It's Just in My Head

2009-01-25T05:36:00.000-08:00

I've been thinking if I have to create another blog. I don't think my thoughts are well-organized in my blogs. I do write stories of my life, I write nonsense circumstances on my day, fiction etc. I'm still not sure if I have to segregate them into categories. Yeah, I'm a bit obsessive compulsive but very terrible in organizing stuffs. I have a lot of things going on in my head and I just can't make any of it happen!

Expect to see my working table so messy, but fixing it has been on top of my plan. I've had several blog entries undone because I'd just stop writing in the middle of it. I've been calling prospective clients and then I'd lose interest if I'm not able to close a deal immediately. It takes me quite a while to organize the books at the bottom of my bed, coz I can't figure out the best way to do it. (Yeah, it's freaky to think there's even a best way to arrange a pile of books by your bed!) And if it isn't the perfect one, I wouldn't want to do it at all. I want perfection. That's why nothing happens because it's all in my head.

If I were able to post this now, I'd be proud of myself ha ha.

When She Prayed

2009-01-23T18:51:00.000-08:00

My admin employees were in chaos for the past 2 weeks, I guess, as we've been terribly busy. It's a good thing that our production is at it's peak. Talk about renewal of business permits, and people just keep coming in.

They say that the true character of a person is manifested when he's stressed or under pressure. I'm also guilty of being improper when I'm tired. When my staff asks me practically everything, when they throw on me all the unresolved problems of clients, and when they give me the last say on every decision to be made, I just transform into a green-eyed monster for a moment.

Of course after my outburst, I'd realize my mistake. There was even one time that I gathered them all together to apologize for my misbehaviors. Some business owners would advice that I don't get to excuse any decisions I make or anything I want to say or when I should say it. But I feel otherwise. I also deal with human beings whom I may have caused emotional trauma because of my own emotional instability. I don't think admitting mistakes would make me less of a person or a boss for that matter.

Anyway, maybe I have passed on my panic and distress to my staffs. For over a week now, when bulk of transactions come in, I just feel no harmony in the office. They get irritated with each other easily and they blame each other for petty mistakes. I couldn't stand hearing them not getting along well (at my watch!).

I intended to talk with them and settle whatever misunderstandings they have. But just this morning, I was really amazed when one of my staffs approached me and told me that everything was already settled among them. Apparently, she prayed about it last night and instantly, she received a message from her co-employee apologizing for her behavior. What a fast answer was that!

I was thinking, I never thought of praying about it! I was so overwhelmed by too much distraction at work and I never even thought of praying about it! Did I think I could handle it myself? Did I think it was too petty to ask?

Even that tiny little detail of her existence, and she prayed about it! I seldom do that. I got too focused on my busyness and when she prayed, I felt it was as if I were called to be more in tune with God.

Just a realization.

The Last 60 Minutes

2009-01-21T05:08:00.000-08:00

I almost felt relieved when I saw it was already 4:30pm. 60 minutes to go! Hooray! I was excited to go home and was already busy writing down my schedule of endless deliveries for tomorrow when my driver whom I sent to the bank for cash deposit called me up and told me that the bank employee said there was no cash on the bag I gave him. My driver was so trusting enough not to doublecheck the bag earlier before leaving it to the bank!

Of course I was in panic. That was Php 6000 and intended for our branch employees! I had that familiar feeling of being betrayed.

Around 2 months ago, I gave a cash salary to my employee and it was already the next morning that I realized I gave him more than what he was supposed to get. (After I checking that my cash ending balance was incorrect) But of course, (and to my great disbelief) he denied it. When I asked him how much money did I give him, he answered so quickly, complete with the bill denominations and all, and got his "witness" ready. It happened so quickly that it seemed rehearsed.

I really couldn't believe that somebody is capable of such deceit. I was like 200% sure that I gave him like 500-peso excess but he totally denied it and I couldn't even say a word staring at him denying it right in front of my face. How can a person do such a thing?

But since I had no proof and since he must have already connived with another employee, I let it pass. He won't get any richer with just 500 pesos anyway.

But this afternoon when I lost that 6,000, it was just distressing. I talked with the front teller of the bank and he told me that he found no money in the bag. Sounds familiar. He seemed so sincere over the phone. I even doubted my own confidence that I put the money inside. But I looked everywhere and was again 200% convinced that I really put the money in the bag. I even called the bank manager who happened to be our family's friend and asked for help but the investigation was futile. I somehow expected it, as the money can be easily hidden and the deposit slip thrown away.

I blamed myself for trusting people too much or simply for being too complacent on money matters. I've always had this feeling that people are good by nature and that if your intentions for people are good, generally, they would give back the same kindness to you.

For the second time, I was cheated with money. I felt disappointed and betrayed by the world. In my whole life I never once thought of fooling other people just to get a few bucks, or a couple of thousand. Are people really that evil nowadays? When they think nobody's looking, would they just do things cheating other people for their own benefit?

I know that's too naive. And maybe, believing that people are innately good is dumb. This is a fallen world.

Whoever got that money will never get away. That I am sure of. He may think that he had already got away with his little evil scheme, laughing wickedly for his victory. I may not be able to catch him at all but I know that there is always someone greater than us watching our every move and knowing our hearts. He will never get away.

It's Time

2009-01-02T18:50:00.000-08:00

2 days to go and vacation is over. Back to the real world (and by that I mean, the scary part). Well, I work with our family's business with my dad as my boss. That's the scary part. I'm seeing him 24/7 and he knows every single thing about me, or at least what time I wake up and where I go every day.

Having him as my boss at work and even at home is kind of exhausting. Having to explain to him the littlest detail of where I go after work is even harder. It's confusing really. I'm turning 25 in a few days and I still feel like a little girl with him. Yet when it comes to work, he seems to expect a lot from me.

For over a year, I've heard less from him since he was busy with his farm and I had the liberty to decide things on my own. But on Monday, he'll be coming back and join me again! I'm not quite sure if it's really a good news. I've been thinking about that everyday and I'm really terrified of not doing things his way.

I think I'll just have to keep in mind my friend's advice. Just do your thing. Yeah, if the world isn't pleased at the end of the day, I can still say I did my part.

By the way, I'm still at the office right now preparing for the Monday blast. How can you say no to your boss?

Glued

2008-12-29T10:30:00.000-08:00

I haven't been glued in front of the computer for this long. Guess I need to visit my eye doctor again for an upgrade. The blogs I have visited for the past hour are just so interesting.(and I never thought I would never run out of stuffs to read).
Now I've seen a whole new world where I can fit - with all the bloggers who have tons and tons of ideas.
Before I got up this morning I told myself I would prepare lunch and run some errands. I think it's obvious I have not done any of it until now.

The Face

2008-11-11T14:30:00.000-08:00

Monday. I wanted to change the shower filter badly. Call me a freak but shower filters are one of the most important part of my life. I could already see yellowish particles in the filter and I could already imagine the bacteria seeping into my skin while bathing.

So I pretended to be a plumber fixing stuffs in the toilet until my dad saw me having a hard time on it. He helped me unscrew the filter and thanks to his impressive strength, the filter almost broke. Only two little screws was left supporting it on the bathroom wall.

After almost breaking the filter, he started his sermon about how we should’ve called on the proper people who knew how to do the work. As hard-headed as I was, I was silently wishing he would just go back to his room and let me finish what I started.

There he saw me making face. (Too bad for me.) Expectedly, he scolded me and challenged me to fix the filter. Of course I felt bad, not about being scolded but by my disrespect to him in making a face behind his back. Just to appease him, I just said I would no longer insist fixing it. But deep inside I was still arguing that he was the one who broke it in the first place!

He marched back to his room just as I wanted but I didn’t dare touch the filter. I just tried to tolerate the image of the bacteria in my skin as I took a shower that night.

Until now I feel guilty of what I did. I can still see myself looking like a spoiled brat making faces just because I can’t do what I want. I won’t be able to realize how parents would feel about such ill-mannered gesture coming from their own child had my dad didn’t react the way he did.

I know it was not my persistence that got him mad. I must have hurt him. And that makes me feel even worse.

Where I Was Wrong

2008-10-01T19:36:00.000-07:00

Last night, I had a heated petty debate with my brother about the 1994 Ms. Universe Pageant. (Talk about nonsense sibling fights.) He insisted that Charlene Gonzales was part of the Magic 6 while I argued she was only part of the top 10 and that there was no Magic 6, only top 5. I was so confident and boasted that I'd be proven right in any court in the country. With the intention of making him concede, I stressed out that the ranks in the pageant were from the Miss Universe title down to 4th runner up which logically made it top 5. We went on "no I'm right," "no, this is the case" and even held my sister as the judge. Luckily, my sister's favor was on me, making me more confident with my stand.

Finally, just to make me feel he won't give in, my brother blurted he would even pay P1,000 for it. I got thrilled and agreed on it right away. I ran to the computer and was ready to google it when he immediately backed off saying he wouldn't risk his money for that bet. Dissatisfied but feeling triumphant, I no longer bothered to look it up on the net.

After a while I was guilty for giving in to the bet knowing that God wouldn't be so happy with it. I was asking myself what kind of Christian I am for allowing such a petty debate provoke me to want the credit for winning.

I was already on my quiet time before going to bed when I felt him peeking into my bedroom. I guess he couldn't take that I somehow won the argument. I overheard him asking for me and telling my sister that it was really a magic 6.

I laughed at myself and silently thanked God. I knew he made my brother back off or I'll lose P1,000 which I am supposed to add to my savings for my Cebu trip. I felt great knowing that God made a way to stop such a nonsense bet that clearly was not pleasing to Him. Amazing!

Really, God can work in our life, even in the most nonsense details of it, if we are sensitive enough to feel Him.

I’m still waiting for my brother to bring it up and tell me right to my face that he was right. Now, I wouldn’t care less. Haha.

the list i have yet to finish

2008-09-22T22:10:00.000-07:00

For over 4 years, I have been bugged by one question over and over again. I thought I was going crazy for finding no satisfaction in all the time I spent for my thought life seeking to find the answer. I’ve read all the books. I’ve asked for all possible help. I’ve compared notes with my friends. Still, I was left with no concrete answer.

The Purpose-Driven Life became a best-seller because Rick Warren was able to successfully spot the one question that everybody has subconsciously been asking all their life- What is life’s purpose?

In one of my quest for the answer, a wonderful revelation was made known to me a few months back. I realized that finding the true meaning of existence is not of this world. I was able to understand that nothing in this world can truly satisfy that strange longing in our life…that after earning all the accomplishments this world has to offer which should’ve made us feel that it was enough, still we end up wondering what else is missing.

I was over step one. I was able to draw the big picture out of this search. If it’s not our job, relationships, our bank account or collection of travel pictures, I began to zoom in the specific- what is that very thing that we are all searching for. I used to envy those people who seem to have a definite purpose in life, who live each day as if they knew exactly what they are meant for. I began to imitate their source of happiness.

I was jealous of those overly confident people who could win any argument by mere intimidation. I was jealous of those who had a wide perspective in running businesses that innovations just seem to pop in the middle of the night. I was jealous of those who seem to know it all and are able to impose their point of view on other people. I wanted to become like them, so I dreamed to do things that would make me like them.

None of my efforts paid off. None of my plans materialized. I was on the verge of frustration of wanting to do everything and yet not knowing where to start. During one of my daily meetings with myself, I asked God just one request. I asked Him to show me a direction on where I should head. I asked for an opportunity to do that very thing that would define my purpose in life in a way that’s delightful in His eyes.

As faithful as He’s always been, He answered clearly. Imagine how you were confused as a child on why huge ships do not sink into the sea but a tossed coin does. Then all the concepts of buoyancy etc. were explained and we just couldn’t hide our amazement. I could’ve picked a better analogy but my point is there was a clear, unmistakable answer that was given to me that left me gasp in astonishment.

I was offered a writing position. I was not even expecting that answer. In fact, I was looking forward to a teaching job at a university. Writing was just a hobby and an outlet of thoughts I never seem to run out of. You can just imagine my disbelief when I was told of the answer. It was laid out to me plain and simple. No room for having second thoughts. No room for debates.

I was ecstatic! It was as if I asked my dad for a red car for my birthday and he gave me the exact red car I asked for right there and then! (How I wish) I never thought writing could possibly be more than just a hobby.

Now, I’ve got a new list of plans but this time I am prepared to put a check mark on every single step.

To God be the glory.

Wall Street

2008-09-16T19:40:00.000-07:00

The news of Wall Street’s beginning of recession is everywhere. Investment house, Lehman Brothers declared bankruptcy while 158-year old giant bank, Merrill Lynch sold itself to Bank of America at about $50 billion. Now everyone’s worried on its global effects, US having the dominant grip on global finance.

Now don’t expect me to give an in-depth analysis of this. I’ve worked in a bank before but I barely recall the significance of these stuffs in my life. Besides, I’ve read it on the paper just this morning. The only thing that roused my interest of course is its effect on me.

Local banks are also affected by this drop in the US stocks. Philamlife had to assure its troubled investors, including me, of their stability despite the financial difficulties of its major shareholder, AIG. And I think the investors of Philamlife or its subsidiaries could pacify themselves a bit by looking at its investment portfolio which is heavy on Philippine government securities and corporate bonds.

Anyway, as I was reading the newspapers and blogs today, it wasn’t only the news per se that absorbed all my interest allotted for today. Seeing these people so engrossed with relevant matters as this led me into thinking what on earth I am consuming my time with, while everyone else is busy with the world’s concerns.

I once dreamed of becoming a journalist or a novelist. I’ve always wanted to write something that would impact other people. I don’t know if this is just one of the many things I’m planning to do with my life. I mean, I planned to become a lawyer at one point. I planned to become a teacher and establish my own school for cute little kids. And now I, myself, am not certain if this is for real or is just a product of my active mind today.

However, I still believe that when you put your mind into something you want, you’ll be able to make it happen. Let’s just see if there’s gonna be a Plan D or am I gonna stick with this.

Government announces $85 billion loan to save AIG – yey!

Isang Magandang Kwento

2008-09-09T19:33:00.000-07:00

(PARA SA MGA PASAWAY KONG KAIBIGAN)

NOTE: THE COMIC VERSION (kindly refer here for the original version)

May isang kwentong natatago, ngunit pinahahalagahan. Ito’y isang kwento na nagsimula sa isang kakaibang paraan ngunit nagbunga upang maging isang napakagandang bagay na maaring mangyari sa isang tao. Ang kagandahan nito ay nakakalito ngunit mayroong mga bagay na mas mabuting hindi maunawaan upang mas mabigyang halaga.

Sa pagdaan ng panahon, ang mga pangyayari sa kwentong ito ay nanatiling napakalinaw na para bang ang bawat bahagi nito ay paulit ulit na binabasa hanggang sa ang bawat kaliit liitang detalye ay nanatili sa pinakamalalim na bahagi ng kaisipan. Ang kahalagahan nito ay inalagaan at iningatan na parang isang bagay na walang kapantay; isang bihirang pangyayari sa buhay na hindi maaaring ipagpalit sa kahit ano pa man.

Ito ay isang kwento na nabuo mula sa mga bagay na imposible. Ito ay isang matibay na katunayan tungkol sa dalawang tao na tunay na magkaiba at magkalayo, ngunit sa nag-iisa at napakaliit na pagkakataon na maaring hindi na maulit pa, mayroong isang napakagandang bagay na maaaring mabuo.

Ito ay tungkol lamang sa isang kakaibang pagkakaibigan na nagsimula sa biro, pinagsamahan nang magkalayo, pinagtibay sa kabila nito, at pinagpatuloy hanggang sa dulo. Simple lang, ngunit hindi ito ordinaryo. Sa kwentong ito ay may natatagong kakaibang pagkakaugnay na maaaring manatiling misteryo hanggang sa katapusan.

Kahit kakaiba ang kwentong ito, nanatili ito sa alaala sa napakahabang panahon. At kahit pa nga sinasabi ng ibang tao na katangahan ang paniniwala sa bagay na gaya nito, nanatili pa rin itong katotohanan.

Kung tutuusin ang kwentong ito ay maaaring manatiling walang kahit isang kamalian. Ngunit kahit na ang mga kamangha-manghang kwento ay mayroon ding depekto. At kagaya ng lahat ng bagay, nagkaroon din ng mga problema sa kwentong ito. Nagkaroon ng mga pangyayari na hindi mahalaga at napagkamalang mga bagay na mas makapagpapaganda pa sa isang bagay na sa una pa man ay perpekto na. Nakakalungkot man, napatunayang ang mga pangyayaring ito ay walang kaugnayan sa kabuuan ng kwento.

Hindi naman masasabing pagkatapos ng pangyayaring na halos hindi na rin naman nangyari, ay nasira na ng tuluyan ang buong kwento. Ngunit para sa isang tao na pinahalagahan ang ganitong kwento, sapat na ang pangyayaring ito upang pagdudahan ang katotohanan ng isang napakagandang pagkakaibigan.

Unti unting lumabo ang mga bahagi ng kwento. Noon ay kasindali ng abc ang pag-alala dito, ngunit dumating ang pagkakataong kahit ang mga salita ay naging malayo upang maipaliwanag kung ano ang nangyari sa kwento.

Kung ito ay isusulat muli, ang mga bahaging hindi kanais-nais ay hindi na isasali. Dahil ang pangyayaring iyon ang nagbigay daan upang maging hindi kapani-paniwala ang buong kwento. Ngunit kung babalikan ang pagkakataon kung saan ang lahat ng pangyayari ay walang kasingganda, lagi itong nagbibigay ng kakaibang pakiramdam ng kasiyahan. At maaaring tanging ang pakiramdam na ito lang ang tanging bagay na mananatili hanggang huli.

Ang pagtitiwala sa kwentong ito ay masasabing hindi tama at tanda ng kawalan ng karunungan. Ipinipilit ng ibang tao na masyadong maganda ang kwentong ito para maging totoo. Sa kabila nito, nagdudulot pa rin ito ng mga ngiti sa pagalala dito…isang kwento na paulit ulit pa ring binabasa sa kabila ng mga depekto nito.

Ito ba ay isa lamang talagang kwento? Maaari. Ngunit kung aking titingnan, ang maaaring ito ay isa nga lamang kwento, ngunit ang pagkakaibigan sa kwentong ito ay totoo.

a translation of "A Beautiful Myth"

THE GRIP

2008-08-10T03:05:00.001-07:00

It was strong. It was blinding. And before I knew it, it was swallowing me whole. I once read that the pain it caused was like trying to put together a broken glass- it leaves you bleeding trying despite the glaring truth that it cannot be fixed at all.

I found myself being slowly broken into a million pieces. I cried countless times. I wished repetitively on every first star I saw at night on how much I wanted to bring back everything the way it was. But there was as if a mighty opposing force that allowed me to be totally devastated…and lost…and be in such a pathetic state.

It was so intense that I thought I could not get free from it. It was short, yet it left a seemingly lasting mark. Starting all over again was a distant idea that seemed untranslatable into reality.

I was told I could get over it and that it would all get better in time. And in my heart I wished the same. I was thinking, sure I’m smart and I’m capable of doing a million things. I’ve got a lot of friends who would back me up in desperate times. And so as the years passed, I tried to live with the few pieces of me that were left.

Those pieces were exposed to a huge deal of opportunities to be fused back together and even to multiply and be whole again. I am grateful for every chance I got to learn how to be matured enough to handle myself not just in my profession but more importantly in my inmost being.

From a self-engrossed person who cared only about my own hurts and bitterness about how the world betrayed me, I was called to do greater and more meaningful things. That mighty opposing force who seemed to have dumped me into that pit was also the same force who faithfully led me into a life I never tasted before.

Looking back I realized a very important truth in my life. The grip of that relationship, the very thing that I once embraced with all my heart, was also the very thing that held me back from becoming the person I am designed to be. And I never imagined I am much more than what the past had instilled in me.

It was never fun having to endure the pains of the past. Had nobody even cared to take me out of there, I would’ve been locked into nothingness. But somebody did care. Somebody poured out his love for me without question…without condition. Somebody showed me the brilliance of the future. That was the hope I learned to hold on to, the most wonderful gift that had finally set me free.

Broken

2008-05-28T11:15:00.000-07:00

I’ve always loved the feeling of being alone most of the time. I’d rather lock myself up inside my room and read a book or just scribble on anything that’s going through my mind, than join with the rest of my family watching TV.

I don’t talk on mornings. I’d get up, say a little prayer, take a shower, dress up, and eat without anybody hearing a single word from me. Talk to me and you won’t get anything but a forced smile or a plain nod. You’re lucky if you get a little “ah” or “ok.”

I’m on a very complicated roller coaster ride, or maybe it’s only me making things hard. My creepiness becomes evident during this time. I ask a lot of weird questions to my friends. I think of life’s complexities. I analyze my own existence. I begin to want to do things and yet feel too tired to move even a finger. Everything stays in my head and most of the time, I just want to disappear. I tell a good friend of mine, “I feel broken.” (Told ya.)

These are the moments I feel alone. I think of those few friends I have, knowing that all of them have a job to be busy with, somebody to spend Friday nights with, or toddlers of their own. I look at my pregnant sister, realizing she already has a life of her own. I think of my other sister miles away who just had a baby and is too preoccupied with this little angel of the family. I look at my brother busy with all his friends seemingly contented with life. I think of my dad (there’s nowhere to look coz I haven’t seen him for the past 2 weeks), and it strikes me how distant I am from him and the only thing that connects us is the company he expects me to manage. I don’t have my mom anymore, which makes this period a whole lot harder. If she were still here, maybe I could still curl down on her lap while she watches TV. Or maybe I could sweetly ask her to buy something to eat even if I’m not hungry at all.

Then the weird thoughts and questions pop uncontrollably. Where do I fit? Who do I have? What do I do? There’s a persistent battle within me, knowing the what-should-be-done in life, yet understanding how I feel even if it’s unreasonable.

These are the moments when I am just floating. These are the times I’m having a hard time getting hold of something really solid that would help me stay grounded. I know I have no right to feel bad about life for I am well-blessed and well-loved by my God. I play that truth in my mind repeatedly and pray that He give me wisdom to sort these thoughts of mine.

Am I alone? Am I lost? Am I broken?

Maybe not.

But I feel I am.

Words Without Meaning

2008-01-20T00:09:00.000-08:00

1997. My seatmate showed me a piece of intermediate paper with two-stanza lyrics of a song. Without even having to ask him, he volunteered to sing…

You told me you loved me
You told me you cared
You told me you needed me
But I guess
Those were words without meaning

You said I could trust in you
You said I was fine
You said that you spoke the truth
But I guess
Those were words without meaning

It was 10 years ago and still the sound of his voice seems like echoing in my mind. If I remember it right, he told me he wrote that song, and I didn’t question it anymore. I just kept that piece of paper in my wallet for years. Well, until I lost that wallet in a cab.

It’s funny how easy it is for us to say things. More often than not, we let go of words instantaneously and we end up wishing to have those words back. We only get to realize how awful or hurtful it could have been once we have already let it out.

Why are we fond of saying things we don’t really mean? Why do we let out a fast “yes” we don’t have the slightest intention of meaning? Why do we blurt out promises we don’t have the least intention of keeping?

If you were on the receiving end, isn’t hard to gauge the authenticity of one’s words? We get too blinded with a lot of factors in believing what is said to us- the person who said it, the circumstance we’re in, and our own emotion.

But actually, we get to be affected by somebody’s words or even presence only up to the point that we allow them to. The most sincere truth won’t bother us even a bit if we don’t want to. Just the same, the cruelest lie won’t crush us if we choose not to.

The question is, up to what extent are we going to allow ourselves to ignore a truth, or believe a lie?

Meri Kurisumasu

2007-12-24T20:49:00.000-08:00

I can’t believe 2007 is almost over. When I look back (which I should try to quit doing often), it leaves within me a deep hollow.

At this very minute, 365 days ago, I was glued in front of the computer, talking with somebody. We were talking about our plans on summer of ’07. We were talking about how the holiday season would just pass by.

He spends special occasions sleeping. During his birthday, he would lock himself in the house and I suppose not show up to the world until the day passes. On Christmas, he still is in the house, sleeping. And at that time, I didn’t want him to be alone. Surely we were oceans apart, but somehow, for no vocal reasons, we stayed connected.

It was ten o’clock. Should be midnight there. I sent him my Merry Christmas greeting. I knew he was already sound asleep by then so I didn’t wait for any reply. I spent my midnight just like other Christmas I had, so practically we were on the same boat. I was in the middle of opening a gift when my phone rang and to my grand surprise, it was him calling.

“I thought you were sleeping…” I told him with a huge grin on my face. “I had set my alarm. I’ve been trying to call you but I couldn’t get through.” I didn’t even understand the last words. I was struck by the alarm thing. He set the alarm?! What in the world did it mean? Yeah I know alarm clocks are designed to wake you up but what did he do that for? I couldn’t believe he woke up in the middle of the night just to talk with me on Christmas, and what, break his own tradition of spending it asleep? It was incredible and I couldn’t get enough thinking about it.

Christmas Eve 2007. What is it like?

I spent the whole day at the farmhouse with my family, relaxing and savoring the cold wind from the top of the mountains. Nobody else to talk with besides them.

When we arrived back home, there was an odd silence in the house. Sure we were talking, but something was missing.

7:22 pm – I finished writing my blog entry about friendship. I went down a got myself some veggie juice. Weird eh?

Now (8:37 pm) – 365 days back, I never imagined myself doing this today.

I sent him a message, checking if he were not drunk or asleep. Gladly, he isn’t. And it’s good to know that for a change, he’d be spending the night with his family. He ended his message as this: Thanks for remembering. Meri kurisumasu. I found that funny before. But now, staring at the message, I’m beginning to hate myself for wishing that he would set his alarm later at 2:00am there to call me and talk with me on Christmas.

Truly, things change. And you wouldn’t even notice it until it hits you boldly in the eye. I wonder what the rest of the world is doing at this very moment I am consuming myself from the memories of the past Christmas I spent with somebody miles away with a foolish phone call I just wish I could still have.

Gone Are the Old Times

2007-12-24T19:22:00.000-08:00

I have this friend who was once very visible in my life. He broke up with his girlfriend a year ago and since I had no real love story ever since my first relationship ended centuries ago, we were stuck with each other. We reassured each other during depressing moments, and offered encouragement that somehow, someday, our true love will come along. It was comforting to know he was just one ring away. In the middle of our heart-to-heart talks, I knew he was truly there and not just spending some idle time with some old friend from some far away place.

Knowing me, I used to make up these scenarios that would leave me feel dejected for no apparent reason at all. (Tell me about schizophrenia or psychosis.) But he was patient enough to listen to my nonsense stories and my heartbreaking fairy tales which happened in 18th century. Sometimes he just quit making me realize how stupid my concerns were and he just listened. Maybe he knew the other side of me was in action during those moments and the sane one is already sound asleep.

He knew I was caught up with my little fantasy world. I believe he had accepted that disgraceful attitude of mine, which gave him the license to make fun of me for my habit of making a big deal out of simple gestures. For hours, he would bear with me blabbering on a very little detail of a phone call I received from a guy that day! And after I realized how stupid my “kilig moment” was all about, he would just laugh at me, making it really subtle in implying how “gullible” I was. I showed him my vulnerability and I didn’t care if he knew I was not the strong lady everyone thought I was. Coz I felt that he would understand.

But of course I’d have to say he shared the other half of the miseries showered on earth. I had to hear depressing grumbles turned into pathetic hopes of getting back together, over and over again. He would tell me, “I’m sorry I know I’ve said this a million times before”, and the fact is, he might really have. But I could identify with what he was going through and I knew he was undergoing a rather difficult stage, being left by the one he has set his mind and heart to be with for the rest of his life.

Self-worth was the last thing in his vocabulary. He had his dreams, his purpose, his whole life revolved with a single person who ended up not as willing to give him what he thought he should have. And the million-turned-billion times of saying the heartbreaks seemed a helpful, yet frustrating process he’d have to undergo.

I remember one night, it was around 2:30 am. I had my better side dominating me and I was already sleeping peacefully. He rang me in the middle of my serenity (which happened very rarely), and I found him crying on the other line, telling me how hurt and dejected he felt, as if it were the first time I heard it. I simply stood by him, knowing that whatever it is that I’d have to say, he already knew. The only thing I shared him was the one thing I had learned from my previous share of bad luck in love: If your whole life is focused on one person and she just left you hanging and you don’t know how to start all over again without her, maybe it wasn’t worth it after all.

He had the ultimate goal of being invincible. He wanted to look his best, to race towards success, and eventually to face the world, his head up high screaming from the top of his lungs that he made it. Then every girl would wish to have him (and probably the old one would regret to have let him go), but he would not make any one of them get through him and have that power to rule his life and take the best out of him. I thought it was fair enough after his failed relationship, and I truly supported him with that. I believe that loving and being happy with one’s self is a major factor in a success of a relationship. The famous line by Tom Cruise “You complete me” isn’t going to work for me. You’ll never be able to love anybody if you yourself aren’t whole. If you try to look for that happiness with someone else, then be ready to get disappointed. Stop looking for the “other half” of you. There’s no such thing.

Anyway, he soon managed to get back on track. He got a wonderful job, got his confidence back, gained new friends. In short, he started to move on. I would hear less of complaints and more of glowing hopes of what the future holds for him. And I was truly happy for him.

He might have moved on pretty well. It has been a year already and as soon as the heartbreak stopped, so did the old times. I’m not saying that we should stay in that state of despair forever, but what we shared during that low point in our life were simply washed away by the struggle to get back his life and the new world he’s in. I heard he has a new girlfriend and I was thrilled! I waited for him to tell me how happy he is and how everything just fell into its proper places. I waited for him to tell me all the good news in his life. I waited to hear every good thing repetitively; just the same way he told me the bad ones. I waited to hear him scream from the top of his lungs that finally, he made it.

But, he never did. He never shared any of it. At first I thought he was just adjusting to this new world and it was okay. We didn’t have a contract to tell each other what was going on with our life anyway. Every now and then I send him messages, asking how he was doing, but he never answered them. I guess he is preoccupied by his new-found life…a life he dreamt of, a life that has no room for despair to share with; thus a life that has no room for me.

I don’t know if I should be flattered that he ran to me when he was helpless, and forget about me when everything was fine. Sometimes I wonder if the friendship meant anything to him. I wonder if the times he spent with me talking about his miseries were really not a way to just spend some idle time with some old friend from some far away place. I wonder if he truly cared, or he just pretended to because he needed somebody to console him.

I wonder if he would have remembered me if he didn’t break up with his girlfriend back then… Maybe not.

Did I Just Lose It?

2007-09-26T00:21:00.000-07:00

It’s been 10 years from the day she said hello to me and just pulled me into the line for the flag ceremony. She had that warm, friendly smile that made me exclaim to myself “Yipee! I’ve got a new friend!” It was in 2nd year high school. From then on, we instantly became the best of friends. It was the kind of friendship where you’d never see us apart. We spent ALL the time together. We were seatmates. We went to the rest room together. We spent our breaks together. We talked over the phone right after school, not running out of something to talk about. We even shared the same crush!

Everything was so simple back then. It was an incredible friendship. We would look at each other and we would get the signals. By our mere actions or silence, we knew something was wrong, and we couldn’t just wait to be there for each other. Of course there were promises of “best friends” forever. And I believed it would really last.

But things did change. We went off to different college, met different people, had new sets of friends, and went through different experiences. Practically, we grew apart. However, we did manage to keep in touch in all those years despite the distance. We still kept each other updated on what was happening in our life. And I thought it was enough to keep the intensity of the friendship burning.

We pursue our separate careers right now and I’d like to think we’re doing okay. Sure we exchange messages every now and then. I still know that she’s stressed with her work, eh? We still see each other once in a while, do some shopping and catching up over lunch. After 10 years, we remain the same – friends. (Did I just miss typing the word “best?”)

What if what you’ve been holding on for so long turned out to be no longer as precious as it once was? Yes, people change. But I find it weird and at the same time sad, that it got to this point. Do these changes really have to affect the level of affection and the depth of relationship we share with other people? We used to be inseparable, we were like twins! Before, she wouldn’t have to speak a word before I know what’s going through her mind. But now when I try to look at her, all I see is a familiar face with a known background.

We still do tell each other the most unimportant details on what’s happening to our life, our work, family, finances, and plans. But hey, I can write all of these stuffs here and anyone who reads it would know exactly what she does! Is it the only thing that constitutes a friendship? Is friendship all about sharing what you do in your life?

10 years ago, I would run to her if my eyes couldn’t hold back the tears anymore. I knew nobody in my little world would understand me better than she could. I had the instinct to share with her my innermost secrets, my deepest feelings. And I believe I had found a friend in her back then. Because we shared more than just routines. We shared a life.

Now I wonder, could she have the wildest guess on how I truly feel by mere looking at me? I bet not. You ask me, who would I run to when the worst time comes? I won’t be even that confident that she’d be in my top 5 list. I don’t know. And that’s the painful part of it. The fact that I don’t know.

We’re different individuals now. Totally different. I know the friendship is still there. It’s not as if I woke up one day and bam! We’re already strangers to each other. But it breaks my heart thinking how far we have drifted apart. The changes in a person are easier to accept, but losing the main thing where the friendship is built in is quite hard to comprehend.

The friendship. Do I just fail to acknowledge its presence because I don’t want to accept that things changed? Or have I just lost confidence on it that I choose to shut myself and magnify the differences we have? Or simply, did I just lose it?

One Step Ahead

2007-09-24T00:53:00.000-07:00

Some people tell me my life is close to perfect. I have a stable job (we run our own business so it’s a family thing, lol), I have the capacity to indulge myself with the things that I want and sometimes they do cost a lot but anyways, I have the right to have some form of enjoyment, right? But of course there would always be something missing. Some people tell me: your boyfriend must be very lucky. And I’d just laugh about it. People make it seem that having a boyfriend is like having a job. If you’re single, you’re missing half of your life, you must be very fortunate to survive this world. Who in the world set that standard? Yeah I understand it’s a companionship thing. It must have branched from the philosophy that no man is an island. I still believe in that, though.

I’ve always told myself and all these people who untiringly question my status that I’m happy with how things are going. That I have other more important things to do than fret over such nonsense. That I’m in the process of discovering myself and it’s more thrilling than anything else. That the guys left in this planet just seem not to be capable enough to get through me. Well I still hold these true for myself. But hey once and for all I think I also need to be honest right? There are moments, especially when I just ran out of the “more important things to do,” that I get to think if there really is somebody out there meant for me. There’s still this crumb of hope that someone will really be brave enough to get through me.

I once thought that somebody I once cared for was really lucky to have me. But apparently, some things don’t go the way we want them to. That relationship of mine bruised all my hope for happy endings. Since then, I was hardly convinced that there could still be such thing. People term that feeling bitterness, but I guess after you’ve given practically your everything to somebody and it didn’t work out would leave you some form of hostility and doubt towards the world right? Or am I just trying to make it sound less bitter? Hehe.

Learning that this person had finally found somebody he might consider having a relationship with gave me a certain feeling I can’t still identify. Anger? Why? We’re friends. Weird as it is but yeah, we’re friends. He was the one who told me about his newly found prospect after all these years. He may have hurt me countless times before and there was that chapter in our life that I hated him, but after all these years, hatred is the last thing I’d want to feel. It’s just not very rewarding.

Jealous? Nah, the feeling has already passed a long time ago and being jealous would be a form of suicide already. It will only be possible if I still have feelings for him, eh? But the thing is, my mind already repels such idea. It’s just not him and I’ve already accepted that. The feeling is like, after all these years that I thought being alone is not that bad a thing (which I still think is), he would suddenly tell me that someone is making him feel adored, wanted, and who knows…maybe loved. It’s been quite a while since somebody made me feel that way. Once, I took my chances admitting to myself that finally I have felt something for another person and yet it still didn’t end up the way I imagined. Isn’t it cruel? Well, that’s entirely different story.

It’s just sad that I’ve blinded myself with the pain I’ve nurtured for so long that maybe I’ve already pushed away people I truly cherish, only because I guarded myself too much. Maybe I was the one who didn’t want them to get through me in the first place. And I envy him for having found the courage to really take the risk with someone else. He’s right, I haven’t been very honest to myself because all along I’ve been too afraid. Damn it, he knows me too well to spot the very thing I mask to myself, more so to other people. Somehow, it’s a good thing making me realize all these.

Surprisingly, a part of me still believes in happy endings. It’s never too late to start all over again. I can still work my way back on track. He’s just one step ahead. I believe I’ll reach that point as well, in God’s own time.

The Same Old Song

2007-09-23T01:30:00.000-07:00

It's midnight. My nerves seem to be all excited and hyperactive. I already arranged my closet and threw some trash I saw in the room. What else was left to do? My night stand. I'm not quite sure if it was a good decision to clean the clutters I continue to mess with anyway. But with all my nerves not wanting me to just sit and read a good book, I decided to arrange it anyway.

Now this is the exciting part of seeing old piles of papers. I found an old envelope with quite thick bunch of bond papers with lots of writings (something that looks like this haha). I couldn't help but read through the pages again. Yeah, this one was familiar.

Year 2005. An old story. Good heavens how I have always loved narrating stories, mostly my own. It still makes me grin alone, being refreshed with everything that happened in the past. And there I was too preoccupied by the pain and miseries as I always called it. Now there's no point in denying it, I still got those pages to prove how feeble and shattered I can be. That had a really sad part and I still find myself sympathizing with that girl in the story - me in 2005.

Having quite a "record" of such significant events has its own benefits by the way. Well it gives me a shake to what has already happened, and repeating the same plot of the story is quite boring already. And damn stupid I'll label myself if I'd see another few pages in different time frames indicating similar stories and the same old feelings of helplessness. When can I ever learn, huh?

Another set of envelopes within that brown envelope I found. This one's a school envelope, two different school envelopes. It gave me a sudden shiver. It didn't have the usual emotional tales I used to have that I can just laugh about once again. This time, I didn't write this one. They were given to me a few years back.

Year 2002. Should already be called historic, don't you think? Both contained printed poems. Some confession of pain of losing someone and some declaration of a creed of love. Both didn't have my name on it, though; but I very well remember those instance how the dorm security guard teased me while handing me the envelopes. Reading the poems again made me smile. Not the grin I had awhile ago, rather it was a smile of a sad missing and I still am wearing that smile right now. Back then, this person meant nothing more than a stronger. And it amused me, receiving such kinds of letters from him.

Year 2007, present. My nerves aren't hyperactive anymore. At last I can start making some sort of sleep to brush away all the feelings brought back by those two silly envelopes. Having found them should barely have any impact on me. Not if there was something else that happened in between. And my peaceful nerves do not want to entertain any other thoughts besides the warm feeling I already relished upon reading the letters. The other part of the "something else" would just spoil it anyway.

It's been 5 years now. Who would imagine that some untouched piles of seemingly trash would make me do another page that would add to it? Indeed, old files bring back memories. Some you'd be happy recalling. Some would just tear you apart again and again. Some would just make you sigh.

And so do songs. You bet I'm listening to some song right now. I somehow have the notion that each song represents some significant stories in our life, or a certain person. It's like I'm being read with the stories I keep and forget for a while then relive again. I guess I never learn. I can see another me, version 2007. I bet I'm gonna laugh at myself 5 years from now when my nerves start to become too excited again to make me sleep.

But for now, I know I would play the same old song, until I find a new one.

Inspired by: Utada Hikaru

You Don't Have To

2007-09-22T04:38:00.000-07:00

I did not expect you'd pop again from nowhere after quite some time of not hearing even your slightest breath. You come and go as you please, and of course I was again left vulnerable given the circumstance. Not that I have the thinnest right to be mad, but who cares, I've always hated you for that.

Incredible as it may sound, I've always given a way for the other mask of mine to surface in a situation that calls for it. I managed to ask how you've been doing, right? Well, that was for starters. Even a fool could've asked that. But I think I were able to make the conversation as light as it has used to, weren't I? Or was it you who did? Either way, I made it to a point that you would never notice that I was once, and still is dumbfounded how fast everything seemed to begin...and end. I survived that 40-minute-here's-what-happened-talk well anyhow, whew!

It was not easy though, you know. The moment you appeared, I couldn't help feeling something in me leaped. I couldn't very well spell it out loud here now, coz it will make the whole thing more foolish than it already seems.

I don't want to sound more dramatic. That's the last impression I'd want to give. But hey, as bubbly as I am, I'm still a girl and there remains the slightest touch of sensitivity in my system. I'm sick and tired of going on that rollercoaster ride again, feeling trapped. You give me the feeling that I have no any form of escape in your hands, darn it. So stop playing on me. But nah, I don't think you were playing anyway. It's just the way you are.

But the thing is, you don't have to speak of anything you don't have the slightest intention of meaning. You must not even dare think about it. What pleasure does it give you, giving a promise you don't intend to keep, much less to even just remember? Promises are meant to broken, eh? I thought you were just trying to be funny and so I laughed about it. I must have taken that warning seriously.

So quit the trying-to-make-me-feel-assured-tone that you're actually going to make any of it happen. You don't have to say anything just to keep me appeased because I am rather enraged by every single thing you say, knowing that it's just nonsense to you, that you'll just forget after your short-term memory reaches its maximum level.

You see, I'm tired of it. But still here I am making a big fuss over such a petty thing. Do you sense a tone of the silliest hope that at some point or another, you can actually make me realize I got it all wrong? Or does that other mask of mine just succeeded to show off that I am the least bit interested person on earth to be holding on to those unrealiable promises of yours?

Still I say, if you don't mean it, then you don't have to.

the worst feeling of all

2007-04-01T05:43:00.000-07:00

I was watching this movie, after like an entire day of just staring at the tv. I guess I'm just really all bummed today that I'd have to end the day with all these stupid thoughts, again. It really sucks having to miss someone, that's a fact. But missing someone you barely had spent time with is even worse. Coz you're hooked with all those fantasies of yours, thinking about the what might have beens and the what ifs. And that damn movie made me think of these things, again! Grr.

I have this very good friend of mine that I've always had a special feeling for. Well, it's not as if there could be anything possible between us, he lives miles away and is pretty having a difficult time figuring out himself. I've always thought of him as the only one and biggest what if of my life. And I think I have told this very same story countless times already, waiting for someone new for me to tell the story all over again, but i never get tired of it. At the end of the day, I still wonder, could he really be much more than just a "very good friend?"

Yeah, it's the same story. But for me, it seems mine's always original. And here I am wondering what could he be doing at this very moment. If I try to call him and tell him i miss him, and i bet he'll tell me he misses me too...we're close what can i do? Well, my friend N would tell me i'm such a gullible person to believe him. I need this friend of mine to keep me to my senses. lol

So What's Important?

2007-02-05T06:45:00.000-08:00

Earlier this afternoon, I saw a little girl waving at all the jeepneys passing by, but none of them seemed to notice her. Maybe because she was so small (but with the huge bag she was carrying? it was impossible.) I was so dumbfounded at the sight of that little girl. Very brave. She was about 8 years old, and instantly my mind drifted 15 years back.

I live just about 150-200 meters away from my school back then, but i always had someone to walk me to school and carry my bag for me. I couldn't even leave school at 5pm if my "sundo" was not there yet and i would cry if it took her too long. (Brat?) I

never rode a jeep alone up until i was in my freshman year in college (and was forced), since my dad wasn't able to drive me to school as often. My dorm in college was even just across the street! (Nevertheless, with all the job-hunting-always-lost-in-ayala episode of my life, i can say im now a pro :D)

Well, with that 5-second sight of that girl (the road was under construction so it took us that long to totally pass her by :D), i just realized many of us ask for so much in life, and forget about the small stuffs that make each moment much more meaningful. Sometimes, when we look back, those small stuffs are even the most important things that we remember. We get frustrated when our car gets a flat tire, but we don't get to realize, that in one filthy part of the world, a little girl can't even have a ride home.

Shoes that cost you your entire salary would soon be off the trend. Movies that you weren't able to watch only lasted for 2 hours. Achievements that was once applauded would soon be forgotten. But a simple sorry to someone whom you hurt will make a huge difference. A plain i miss you to someone you deeply care about will brighten someone else's day (or maybe an entire week haha). A simple hug to someone who felt alone at a certain point will be forever remembered. It's how you lived your life and how you were able to touch people's lives that will matter in the end of it all.

Just something to think about. =)

I don't know how my contemplative mood got that far. Hehe.

Bunsay

2006-06-29T19:23:00.000-07:00

It’s been a year, and still I feel the same intensity of pain of losing somebody dearest to me. They say once you lose her, everything’s changed. Well it indeed changed my life.

I remember when I was younger, I was a little horror. In fact, I think everybody hated me back then, except her. That’s why I always ran to her when kids fought me back after I daringly bullied them. Little me, knowing she’s just around, gave me enough nerves to be a rascal. I grew up a brat. She never failed giving me my favorite plate over lunch coz I would pout the entire day if she didn’t. I loved the way she did my coloring book (coz I didn’t like how mine turned out). I always called for her when I was ill (or pretending to be). Coz I knew the moment I cried her name, she would run to me in a flash.

I’ve seen her in love, totally happy and content on everything. But when I thought I was big enough, there were times I saw her hurting and I wanted to go after the guy who caused her to cry. But I was too afraid. I didn’t know how to stop her from feeling bad. I wished she had a favorite plate I could give her to make her smile. I wished I was there when she was crying like hell.

Reality check: she’s not with you anymore. And worse, she left without me there. And I can’t even convince myself that she’s happy with the life she has now, or whether she had been happy with me. Have I loved her enough? Have I showed her how my life would have been different hadn’t she endured the pain of loving me? It was when she left that I appreciated the cliché: you’ll never know the worth of something until it’s gone. And surely, the pain of losing somebody you’ve practically shared everything with will never end.

Sometimes I stilll think of her smile, her choice of food, her silly fantasies on Vilma Santos, her gestures, how our noses look the same…and even the fondest memories of her bring me the kind of pain I never thought I could feel. Every part of me is still longing to have her beside me, witnessing every second of my life. How I wish I could tell her I love her over and over again…

When you thought you’ve been through a lot and when you thought you’ve hurt so much, maybe because you couldn’t simply imagine the torture and misery of losing a mom... It's been a year... How i wish i could still hear her call me Bunsay...

I MISS YOU…