panic attack #997.

i die everyday.
with every pause, every sigh, every ellipsis...

with every silence.

that makes me hold my breath
and release it
only when you smile,
or talk,
or look at me.

and we connect
in any possible way.

it assures me that i can still breath
peacefully.

for a day.

only to die again.
with your absence...

withyourabsence.
every lull grips my throat
suffocates me with fear and it numbs my mind.
this fear
this lack of air (this lack of you).

and i have to wait everyday
for you to revive me again
after silently killing me.

dependent on you
like air (that's always inside me),
that i cannot keep.


and i fear that at some point, there'd be no more resurrection after death.


...

pleas.

no more burnt hands,

shoulders,

paper-cut fingers

 

bruised knees and legs,

or sprained ankles.

or sore eyes.

please.

the broken glasses, flying forks, spilled food and beer are much easier to deal with. 

and they hurt a lot less.

I don't think that you even realize the joy you make me feel when i'm inside your universe...

...that is exactly how i feel right now that i am able to hear him sing again.

no fancy reviews... just pure wonder at this genius.

listen, and join the ride to this musical time machine.

Rediscovering You.

Now I know that this is part of your grand plan for me, to rediscover you. To realize that even while I think that I am alone, you have been with me all the while.

And solitude is your way of letting me seek you out, maybe because you have gotten tired of watching me make a fool of myself all the time. Maybe you have gotten tired of waiting for me to pass on to you the burden that I should not have been carrying in the first place. And I no longer have to tell you how heavy it was. Because, of course, you know that already.  And you also know that this time, I just might not be able to bear it alone.

Through solitude, you were able to talk to me again, because there’s the absence of noise clouding your calls for me to return to you, to reestablish the relationship that I have built with you for years.

You see, freedom has gotten into my head. And I have proven myself inept of handling the responsibilities that came with the freedom that you allowed me. But you knew this was coming, that is why you are trying to save me now from myself. And maybe this is yet another way of teaching me some important lessons that I would be making use of as I go through life. You allowed me to experience all these so that, when I come out of it, I’d have gained more wisdom and insight. And you know that there is no other way you could have taught me these.

And with me knowing that, the “feeling good” that I’m feeling right now is not that impossible to believe.

It’s nice to finally have gotten rid of the thoughts that are keeping me from being happy and from moving swiftly into life, the way I had been doing before I started collecting my own emotional garbage.

I could never thank you enough for reminding me of all these things.

Right now, I can go to sleep without a heavy heart, knowing well that you have plans for me. Those might not be similar to what I have planned for myself, but I trust that you know what is best for me and with you taking the lead, I am confident that I will be able walk the right way towards achieving it. 

homework.

think about one of your communication strengths and reflect on how you developed it. Did a class, practice, feedback or a good role model help you to learn? Share lessons learned.



Seriously. Hehe.



But i am busy Pokerstarring right now... and besides, i don't think i have any. Especially when it is spoken. So, anyone who wants to kiss my ass for a pair of movie tickets in Ayala Malls is welcome to do so. And a little embellishment won't hurt either. Haha.


Dammit, am compliment-hungry. And i really need a serious personality boost right now. Please.

when PMS gets in the way of life.

I must be PMSing, today of all days.


meaning: i am twice as lonely and as easily pissed. In short, i am becoming the emotional pendulum that i soo much detest.

Thank God i have this Spoken Communication training in Ateneo, else i would have moped all day. Instead (maybe in an effort to dispel my terrible mood), i volunteered in ALMOST all exercises and shared as much as i can when students' participation was called for. I swear i could see my boss almost clapping his hands in approval of my initiative, haha.

But that was not me. Right now, i am not sure if it was a bad thing or not. I felt good about it, so maybe something good came out of me being open to people sometimes. :)

But i am still PMSing and i still feel like shit. And after my training, i realized that i still don't wanna talk to anybody.

For the meantime.

I am alone and Sugarfree is screaming in the background…

Ayoko nang mag-isa, ayoko nang mag-isa, ayoko nang mag-isa….

After what seemed like a moment of epiphany or an influx of crazy ideas and a series of text messages (with James McAvoy repeatedly saying “I’m sorry” in my Mac), I have decided to start living alone. Away from my boys.

(I am still trying to figure out the most plausible excuse for shocking my housemates with the news that I have decided to move out. When I am able to figure this one out, I am going to write about it.)

And today is my first night alone in a rented studio in Makati (and am beginning to regret it). In the few hours that I have been pacing back and forth my bedroom-slash-dining room-slash-receiving area-slash-kitchen, I have found the perfect tambayan.

My kitchen (just a sink, actually). Picture me sitting on top of the sink, cross-legged, and with yosi in hand. This is the best I can do without a single chair in my bedroom-slash-dining room-slash-receiving area-slash-kitchen.

Without nothing more to do, no more yosi to burn, and with my otherwise nice and obliging friend deciding that I am a lousy textmate thus he’s better off texting other interesting people or maybe he is indeed really sleepy already, I am left with nothing more to do but have a mental rerun of the things that I have done today.

10:00am – woke up and ate the remaining junk in the refrigerator. If there were still a bottle remaining from the previous night’s beer, I’d have drunk that too.

11:00am – decided that I am in a foul mood and thus keep talking to people to a minimum. Meaning, no unnecessary words when answering questions from anybody.

11:30am – reviewed my “to buy” list. Decided that I do not have the money for everything, so I took off half the items from my list.

1:30pm – Brought my remaining stuff to my new place. Didn’t get lost this time. The cab’s meter was running so fast, but i paid anyway, and told him that he has a faulty meter.

2:00pm – Realized that I am most probably acting up, thus I better try to be nicer to Ninoy. Else, this otherwise nice and accommodating friend might leave me to shop for garbage basket, pail, sofa bed, etc. ALONE.

3:00pm – Started shopping.

4:00pm – Was done shopping. See? I am broke, otherwise, I’d have stayed inside the mall till 10:00pm. Was supposed to treat Noi to a Yellowcab pizza, but it was raining so hard and we had to take advantage of SM’s staff assisting us in getting a cab and getting our things inside the cab. So we decided to just go home. Got lost on our way back. It was the cab driver’s fault, I swear.

6:00pm – The pizza became adobo and chicken curry in the karenderia in front of my new apartment. I shelled out a hundred pesos for those and for two regular coke. Also, I paid in COINS.

6:30pm – I am alone. And broke. And I’ve never felt more alone in my life.

6:40pm – Started taking out the contents from the boxes that Budoy and Noi helped me bring here yesterday. Well, they did 95% of the work, actually. I only had to carry a small Landmark plastic bag containing 21 tubes of various sizes.

By this time, Sugarfree’s Kwarto was playing in itunes. This was Noi’s idea, before he reacts and say that I am claiming this for mine, hehe.

(When I write about my reason for going solo, this song will definitely be my soundtrack.)

9:30pm – Done mopping the floor, folding and hanging my clothes, taking out my books, and throwing my remaining trash. And around this time, realized that my most precious possessions today are the following:
1. My bed
2. My electric fan
3. My laptop

Then I started pacing back and forth my bedroom-slash-dining room-slash-receiving area-slash-kitchen, until I established the routine of lighting a cigarette and sitting cross-legged on top of my sink.

Until I decided to write about my day.




Done. But I am still broke and lonely. And I miss Naga.

pillars, frogs, and dreams.

i had the weirdest dream last night.



Nagpa-pillars daa ako, and yaon duman sina Raps, Arbee and Elmer.
Kung tano yaon si Raps, i can almost guess. (Crush ko si Raps bago ko naaraman na break na sinda kang girlfriend nya bago nya din naaraman na bados palan. O press release lang si break. Inda, hehe.)
Pero sina Arbee and Elmer? Dae ko aram kung tano yaon.

I forgot all the other details of the dream. Or why i was in Ateneo in the first place. Basta, while i was walking along Xavier Hall, Elmer called me to say that Arbee was inside, i might want to say hi. Well, Raps, i don't remember anything remarkable about him in the dream, i just knew that he was there.

I woke up to a text message from my boss, asking if i was coming to work or not.

The other night i dreamt of frogs, not the kind that turns to princes. Tsk, that i have to force myself to sleep at 3:30am only to dream about frogs, live frogs, dissected frogs, fried frogs, lots of them, being sold on a push cart.

And then that was it. I don't know if i had any other dream after that. I was still sleepy when i awoke.




Well, these seem to me like signs of a troubled mind.

... senti.

I have been trying to write a poem about you for as long as I can remember,
but the words just wouldn’t come.

(it scares me to think that i am so close to forgetting you already.)

So I tried to paint your face in my memory instead.
But your image just keeps getting fainter the more I try to remember how you look when you smile when you look at me.


An obvious reminder of what I cannot keep.

it was an honest mistake, promise.

but.

you weren't supposed to pick up a phone just because it was ringing.

it isn't yours in the first place.

i'm sorry if i froze and almost couldn't talk.

haaay. stupid talaga.

daan-daang nakaraan ibinabalik ng simoy ng hangin.

... just some random bedtime thoughts.

1. My nanny, Ate Lorna, left us to get married when i was 6. She must have been the one responsible for my being too impatient most of the time. And well, yes, for being bitchy at times.

2. There was one instance when i was allowed to play outside with the neighbors/cousins. I went home crying after a few minutes because i had a fight with somebody. Apparently, i lost.

Two days after that, my dad made an improvised punching bag, and he hanged it in our sala, taught me the right way to punch and the moves, hehe. After lunch that day, my cousin Editha (the daughter of my mom's cousin, actually), stopped by. And probably too eager to test my new skill, i lunged at her and gave her a straight punch on the stomach. She almost passed out. I was so proud of myself then but I was grounded for two days because of that.

3. When i was three or four years old, my mom used to read bible stories to get me to sleep after lunch. There was a time when she was too busy that she was not able to read to me. I tried reading the bible (Bicol version) on my own. That was how i learned to read.

4. We used to have chickens in our backyard. During one of my afternoon naps with my mom, i tiptoed outside to play with the newly-hatched chicks. I remembered getting them out of their cage one by one, and then i saw my mom and Ate Lorna running towards me, their faces in total shock and panic because i had been screaming so loud. I was on hysterics then because i stepped on and killed one of the chicks. That, ladies and gentlemen, was the only time i committed murder.

5. I wore a red dress on my fourth birthday. I liked that dress very much that i insisted on wearing it on my brother’s college graduation a month later. But then, i grew up hating the color red and not owning any piece of clothing with that shade. I am okay now though, i have five or six red tops already.

6. I had been a witness to a real murder scene when i was six. It was dawn when i woke Ate Nandi (our house help after Ate Lorna) because both my mom and dad left me to go to church. I asked her to accompany me outside to go walking on the beach. It was then that we saw a man being stabbed to death on the beach right in front of our house. Ate Nandi had to cover my mouth to stop me from screaming. This event must have started my aversion to the color red.

7. I stepped over the embers from our barbecue grill when i was seven years old. I had planned to use it to cook using my clay pots and i could not remember where i placed the coals until after i felt them smoldering my feet. Until now, i still shiver each time i remember how the burning coals clung to my feet and couldn't be removed until after my mom poured water at my burning foot.

8. There wasn't a day in my childhood when my knees weren't scraped and bleeding. My elbows too, sometimes. There must be a reason why my parents waited til i was 12 before buying me my first and, as it turned out, my only bike.

9. I was naughty at times, but a good kid, in general. I wanted to be a values education teacher when i was six. My kinder graduation speech was actually about how i will be a teacher and will educate thousands of other kids.

put down your new god, and love me like sunday again.

While trying to get me to sleep, this song started playing in my mind, and as i was trying to remember the lyrics of my favorite song some years ago, i started crying. just like that.

i miss going to church. i miss having to give up control over and totally entrust my life to Somebody greater than myself.

Here's my song, so that it reminds me every now and then how it felt like back then, when i wasn't pushing myself too much, because i knew that Someone knows how to make my life better.

(i still haven't remembered the title of this song though...)

Sadyang kay buti ng ating Panginoon
Nagtatapat sa habang panahon
Maging sa kabila ng ating pagkukulang
Biyaya Niya’y patuloy na laan.
Katulad ng pagsikat ng gintong araw
Patuloy Siyang nagbibigay tanglaw
Kaya’t sa puso ko’t damdamin
Katapatan Niya’y aking pupurihin.
Dakila ka, O Diyos..
Tapat ka ngang tunay
Magmula pa sa ugat ng aming lahi
Mundo’y magunaw man, maaasahan kang lagi
Maging hanggang wakas nitong buhay.
Kaya, o Diyos, Ika’y aking pupurihin
Sa buong mundo’y aking aawitin
Dakila ang iyong katapatan
Pag-ibig mo’y walang hanggan.
Dakila ka, o Diyos
Sa habang panahon
Katapatan mo’y matibay na sandigan
Sa bawat pighati’t tagumpay man ay naroon
Daluyan ng pag-asa kung kailanga’y hinahon
Pag-ibig mong alay sa’kin, noon hanggang ngayon
Dakila Ka, o Diyos.

There, a perfect description of how i want my faith restored.

sorry, i am late again.

I do not always hate my boss.

In fact, I would not have stayed this long if he is as despicable as I sometimes portray him to be (by the way, I have two bosses and both are extreme opposites).

For one, this boss strongly opposed my other boss’ proposal to have us hand in a daily, no, HOURLY activity report. He was bold enough to say that it was a stupid idea right in front of all of us auditors. Whoa. Right there and then, I wanted to give him a standing ovation (what an ass, haha). And believe me, i resisted the urge to turn and look at my other boss' reaction.

Anyways, going back to why I am doing this kiss-ass entry…

After the 3-hour long meeting meant to criticize my current project which, thank god, wasn’t butchered, I was finally able to go back to my desk to check my mails.

Here’s what I’ve found.


Gahd, I couldn’t stop laughing.

I could imagine my boss lying awake every night thinking up some ways to encourage us to be model ALI employees by coming to work at 7:30 AM. Before, he used to send email reminders to everybody to not forget that work starts at 7:30 AM and that we are not on flexi-time. When he sends these good morning emails, he is usually the only one in the office, and two or three hours would pass before any of us are able to read it. By that time, his annoyance is a thing of the past.

Months after that, he called a meeting, saying that, yes, we can come to work at 8:00 because, indeed, 7:30 is too early. Besides, we stay late working overtime naman.

Apparently, these things failed. And he has gone out of other strategies to make us come to work on time.

Our chronic lateness must have been driving him crazy already for him to resort to this kind of compromise. (Sir, seriously, this is not exactly what the company policy says. But I love it.)

So while we were still laughing our hearts out, our secretary informed us that the new internal arrangement is supposed to take effect Friday - TOMORROW. And Des and I are supposed to be the ones going to work before 7:30AM.

Well... regardless of how much I like this idea, I still had to say something.

This came in the form of: Sir, why not start Monday instead, because we are still processing the idea and our body clocks haven’t been configured to it yet.

At eto pa, what do we get as a prize for complying? Like going to work on time is not part of our natural responsibilities.

Meanwhile, inside my other boss’ cubicle, he was telling Joyce (our secretary) not to assign Des and me on the same day, because it would mean nobody coming in at all. How intuitive, hehe.

In the end, my boss conceded to our pleas to have this setup start on Monday. And as a prize for being early birds, we’ll get worms daw. He still has to figure out the acceptable equivalent of those worms.

Hmmm… a rating higher than 4, perhaps?

panic attack #758

This week has been full of decisions for me. Today, i am making a major one yet again.

Hi, my name is Che. I am 25 years old.

Yes, i have decided to keep my age at 25. I know, i know, you just shut up. This means no birthdays for me for the next few years (four, maybe - go figure.)

This means that when meeting new people, or when anybody asks about my age, i should not be with somebody who i went to school with in prep, grade school, or anybody i have consistently spent birthdays with for the past few years.

Meaning, i should totally forget about my birth certificate, buried somewhere inside the condo unit in pasong-tamo, where i used to live, abandoned, but is still under my name until now.

What triggered this? My boss. Who kept on telling us audit ladies that, unlike men, we are like ticking clocks.

Therefore, i have to do something to stop this clock from ticking so fast. So there, i choose a random age from the air, and settled for 25.

A few years ago, i said that 23 is the best age for any woman.

No pressures to have a stable career. that was the time that i can still choose to bum around and still not be ashamed to ask for a living allowance from my Dad.

I did not feel the need to earn my own money then. I live at my Dad's house, i get free food, free cable TV, free internet, etc.. Each time he thinks that our househelp is beginning to look better than i do, i get shopping money too. Which, by the way, isn't all spent on clothes. 75% always goes to booze.

At 23, i did not feel the need to explain to anybody why i was not in a relationship. Heck, if i fooled around then, that was because i was only 23.

Well, a decade before i was 23, i decided that i should get married at 23. I thought then that by the time i am 23, i'd have my first million pesos in my savings account already.

Also, at 13, i figured that i'd have graduated at 20 (with honors, of course!), then companies will be killing each other to get my services, i'd be driving my own volvo by then, and yes, i'll be with a gorgeous and rich boyfriend who i will eventually marry before i turn 24.

There was more to that, but it is getting to be depressing. :)

A decade and two years later (:P), none of my childhood dreams happened.

I had a hard time graduating in college, i shifted courses before finally deciding that i hate accountancy but am going to finish it anyway,

i almost choked when asked why i have 5, 6, wait... 8! failed subjects in an interview with an SGV Senior Director,

i have an okay job but not even one company begged me to choose them,

i don't have even a hundred thousand in my bank account,

i have LOANS!,

i do not have a car (which is okay because i never learned to cross the street, anyway).

And, well, i am not married, not even close.

i am writing this to put on record that, today, i have officially declared myself 25 years old.

am so stunned i can't think of a suitable title for this entry.

Hey, buntis ka ba?

I was on my way up the elevator when someone from AC greeted me and blurted out the question. And the other six, seven people in the lift all looked at me for an answer. I just smiled and said no. He looked away, so did the other six, seven people.

I was looking at the floor indicator to see how long it will be until I can safely be out of the elevator, and be free from my most embarrassing Tower One situation, so far.

Last Sunday it was Janet.

After more than an hour of kamustahan, talking mostly about other people we both know: who got married, who haven’t gotten married but are having babies anyway, the few others who are still single and with no immediate plans of either getting married or of having babies..
...she dropped my favorite line for the past few months: Che, you’ve gained so much weight.

She must have noticed my face dropped because she changed the subject just as fast. So there.

Together with the other changes that I plan to do with my life, I’ll be dieting. Well, I’ll try.

Partly because I don’t want people asking me if I am pregnant when I am not. The other reason might be because I want to lose enough weight to be able to snag somebody who will want to get me pregnant (five years from now, by the time i’m 27, haha), with or without getting married.

By the way, I don’t mean most of the things I just wrote here, except for the dieting part.

manic mondays.

it's back. my sunday evening jitters.

last thursday, while doing piles of documentation for my risk-based audit assistance to Des (our boss decided not to give us assistants, might have realized that he can still make use of our extra time by having us assist each other instead, plus the obvious fact that those we got last year were a bunch of incompetents and therefore a waste of our already measly internal budget), the feeling that i do not like what i was doing hit me. It's that wave of strong emotions not very different when one remembers an old love. In short, nagpitik lang bigla. I had doubts before, thursday confirmed all of it. habo ko ni. i should be doing something else instead.

With that came the decision to just get through with it excellently (this assistance plus my own solo project), for me to have the pride and courage to ask for an exit come november. I am thinking of moving to corporate planning, pero habo kong finance-related na corporate planning. or ad and promo. or project development. if only i had a little more talent... it would be innovations and design. haay.

Last friday, i asked Des to give me all files related to our project, so i can study it and eventually be able complete my part of the bargain during the weekend. I did none of these things.

tomorrow, i am up for my bosses' review. and i did nothing. last week, i haven't been doing anything either but lose online poker chips. Well.

Now i can't sleep. i think i am having an anxiety attack, tsk. If only this is a good enough reason to cry.

panic attack #364

I had a recurring dream last December. I dreamt that my father is dead. Upon waking up, I’d always feel relieved, realizing that it was just a bad dream. And then while rubbing my eyes to shake off what remains of that dream, I’d fully wake up and realize that my dad is really dead. Then I'd go numb and I’d start crying.

These were my worst dreams. The ones where waking up does not provide an escape, but rather reinforces the very dream that I was trying not to remember. Leaving me with no choice but pretend to act tough and not mind my dream staying with me throughout the day. Every day.

I commit recurring mistakes wherein sleeping or dreaming does not provide an escape either, but rather, magnifies the degree of these mistakes. Leaving me not wanting to wake up anymore and face the fact that I am not that tough and I can't pretend that I don’t mind me fucking up all the time. But I have to struggle to wake up and pretend that everything is perfect and as they should be. And I have to do this every day.

These are worse than my worst dreams.

I am about to sleep and my biggest struggle right now is to try to not think of these fears making their way to my dreams. Because I no longer want my parents’ ghost haunting me everyday, asking me where they failed me, or why I am failing them now. Because I don’t want to wake up not wanting to wake up anymore.

the response behind the response behind the response.

consider this the future. and we are capable of travelling in time. let's jump to any point in the future to see the consistency of what's happening. then let's go back to the present (which is the past in reference to the future) and find out exactly where we started fucking things up. and fix it. so that this future would no longer happen.

this, i think, is the best solution.

homecoming.

Have you ever felt that you have wasted your time on something that is, totally, not worth it?

Upfront, I’d be inclined to say that, yes, I have been wasting three years of my life now, here.

That my life has been reduced into a routine of forcing myself to wake up, going to work, praying that I would not be riding the lift with ‘the brothers’ or our CFO, tiptoeing inside our office so that my bosses won’t notice my three-hour consistent lateness, sitting around all day reading useless forwarded emails (from persons I swear I would include in my spam folder list one of these days), going home to rest and (on off-times) struggle to be civil to the rest of the world. And sleep. And the process repeats itself the next day.

Everyday, in between waking up and dragging myself to the bathroom, my constant thought would be of how I want to leave this place (fuck ‘em all), go back home to Naga, where I’ll be with the rest of my family.

But each time I see the thrilled look on my pamangkins’ faces each time I bring them pasalubong when I go home, my occasional shopping splurges for them each time I feel that what I have is more than enough for myself, their text messages, their excited screams each time I call, Blessy’s incessant “Auntie Che, darahan mo akong almonds,” my sister's medicines for which my job pays for, my siblings' pride each time they talk to their peers about me.

These things make it all worthwhile.

And I have just begun with my family.

Then there’s the measly amount for charity that I would not otherwise be able to spare, how the members of my childhood church were so delighted with my last anniversary contribution no matter how small it was. And other things and other people.

And for myself, there’s always so much to learn, despite my being bored most of the time. Despite my seeming incurable laziness, I appreciate the challenges that come with my work, the chance to prove to myself that I can be up there if I decide to. These things more than compensate for the occasional homesickness, my persistent back pains, the alcohol-inducing and alcohol-induced stress, and the sleepless nights and the job-related dreams when, eventually, I am able to sleep.

My nephew asked me yesterday as to when I plan to go home next. I said I don’t know.
But already my mind was making arrangements, budgeting my time, committing overtime for work, thinking up excuses to give my boss in case I overextend my stay in Naga. Well, really, I don’t know. But I am planning to call for ticket reservations in a while.

Come Sunday (or Monday), I’ll just have to remind myself again why I have to do this. Why I have to go back here.

on being a good citizen

I remembered today why i hadn't bothered to look at my payslips for a long time. It just depresses me each time i look at my salary and the corresponding deductions across it. My number one, and probably only, eyesore would be the tax deducted from what i worked hard for during the past two weeks. Over the past few weeks, we have been receiving announcements through emailblasts that we would no longer be receiving printed payslips (our company is pro-sustainable development) because it would be more efficient if HR jsut posts them online for us to view at our own pleasure. I was curious, so against my better judgment, i viewed my latest payslip online.

It did not depress me this time. It INFURIATED me. Who would not be furious to find out that, (in my case) aside from my regular, self-imposed deductions, i am wasting 25% of my salary on taxes that serve no particular benefit for me.

Of course, during my stint at the university both as a political science and, eventually, as a business student, i have been bombarded with tax subjects which were meant to educate and to influence me that taxes are there to support the resouces provided for me by the government. i believed that, of course. Though, even then, i already had a hard time naming those resources. Now, as a taxpayer, i am having a doubly hard time naming those resources and those benefits.

But, for fairness sake, let me count the benefits that my government should provide for me as a thank you for the taxes that i am paying:

1. Free hospitals. Most free hospitals in the Philippines stink. And admit it or not, if you have the money to pay for a private hospital, you would not want to wake up inside one of these buildings.
2. Airports. Well, NAIA is relatively better compared to those found in the provinces, but heck, i still have to pay terminal fees every time. And isn't this supposed to be covered by my taxes already?
3. Police protection. Right now, i am finding it really hard to trust the PNP. Broadcasts from 24 Oras and TV Patrol reinforce this doubt on my part everyday.
4. Roads. The last time I went home to Naga, my trip was delayed for several hours because a portion of the national road is undergoing repairs (Blame goes to the corrupt DPWH and DILG officials who pad up the budget for roads, build these roads at so much less than the construction specs, and pad up their pockets instead)
   If only they reinstate the PNR all the way to Bicol, make it better and faster, i'd shut up.
5. Power Supply. Okay, this is not currently monopolized by the government. But while the MERALCO shenanigans sadden me, the prospect of a government take-over scares me even more. Gahd, the quality of government-provided benefits!
6. Schools. This is actually one government service that I want to support, because I believe in every child's right to education. But please, if part of my earnings is being used to support the DepEd. Please, make it QUALITY education, especially for the children.
7. Military Support. I dont care about the military. Really.
8. The executive office and its cohorts. OF COURSE. Where else should these people be getting all their money.

There may be more, i am not sure. I am not even interested anymore.

So, taking my cues from all of these things, what am i to do?

1. I could stop working, and save myself from hating the government every fifteen days.
2. I could put up my own business but, to not pay taxes, it will have to be an illegal one. Hmm.
3. I could just sigh, be a good citizen (by paying my share of taxes), and enjoy spending the remaining 75% of my sweldo on other things. That will still be subjected to VAT. But heck, given that i could not afford being out of job, and i certainly cannot finance my own business, this is probably my only option.
   

For now.

meet my boys.

errr, my housemates. the annoyances i mentioned thought of mentioning in one of my previous blog posts.

these are the people who make me cry over and over again for the most petty reasons, the ones i run to during trying times, the ones who (at times) tolerate and understand my inner bitch, these are the people who i can always trust to lift my spirits each time my ego reaches an all-time low, also the ones who eat up my confidence with their incessant latik and sarcasm, the people who let me live under their roof when i abandoned mine, who let my Pasong Tamo friends use their bathroom each time their water supply gets cut off, who sometimes deplete (hehe) my budget and in return, who i trouble with unreasonable demands, the ones who put up with my perpetual sinigang craze and still willing to wait for me come mealtimes (basically because i don’t can’t eat alone and i am incapable of crossing the street by myself so the most likely probability is i’d die of starvation just because i can’t cross the street to the nearest fastfood or karinderia)

these are the same crowd i share countless of drinking and karaoke sessions with. and these people are a million other things to me.

from left:

Christian (who tolerates(?) my clutter and who occasionally buys me dinner each time i am either too lazy to go out or too scared to cross the street and who sponsored our last EK trip [SMART Family Day] where this photo was taken),

Enteng (not a housemate, but a regular guest, margarita mixer, co-blogghore, and occasional t---o daa),

Budoy (who cooks my sinigang. By the way, it’s been a while, i miss it na ..and the one who listens to my most stupid me accounts each day),

me, and

James (former former housemate, regular housemate guest housemate. i am not sure which one he is, really. but you are always welcome, noi. his face is intentionally not shown here pending his debut appearance on his blog.)

my two other housemates (Don and Bonks) who are not included in this photo will definitely be introduced in my next blog posts. with individual blown-up photos, hehe

In between clutters in my office.

I found my lost ATM card, which had kept me worried for the last 36 hours. You know, the I-don’t-care-I’ll-eventually-find-it kind of worried, not the expected omg-how-in-hell-am-I going-to-feed-myself-for-the-next-two-days kind of worried.

Which, I realized, had been my attitude when I first found out that my mobile phone was missing. Because I thought I just mistook my laptop bag for my shoulder bag and placed the phone there instead. Or because I thought that people are generally as good as me, who will return found items without as much as a second thought. (Or maybe I have yet to stumble upon a bag containing millions, for me to really say that about myself.)

Which then made me realize that I really should have been worrying and panicking already, given my propensity for losing things not biologically attached to my body. Plus the fact that, if my ATM card had indeed been lost, it will be the fourth time that I’d be applying for a card replacement (for the same account). Which will be humiliating, I am sure.

So, upon waking up late this morning, I made my decision to start looking for it. Wallet (for the seventh time)? None. Bag (for the second time today)? None. My bed? Under my bed? Jeans? Blazers? Laundry basket? None.

That eventually made up my mind to “work” on a Saturday. And yes, after a few minutes of looking under my table, in between documents and trash, I found my lost ATM. Which justifies my planned trip to the mall later. To reward myself.

And of course, I really am working on some documents for archiving. Just like what I told my boss when I informed him that I am working overtime today.

Because you asked why i never mention you in my posts.

I did mention you in one post. In fact, a significant portion of that blog was about you.

I haven’t been blogging consistently until lately.

I am usually too busy that I no longer bother to think of what to write. I just write what comes to mind.

I did not realize that my clickable status message would result to you knowing about my blog.

I-am-running-out-of-excuses.

Honestly. I did try, several times. I just did not know what to write about. Or, even if I did, I simply cannot put those thoughts on paper. The things that made and (sometimes) still make me laugh, the things that made me realize how important it is to have someone (always) beside me and not on the other side of the world, the things you said and did that make me think of better days ahead, these are big things that I cannot put on paper. Because my writing skills would not be adequate to describe all those things.

A better writer (and a better person) would perhaps be able to do justice when she tries to write about you someday.

So, there.

euphemisms for discontent (too).

Here's my actual job and workplace:

1. My deadlines are always due yesterday, even upon giving me the work assignments, which means I always have to move heaven and earth to meet the yesterday-deadlines.

2. My bosses drive me crazy everyday. The first one has an extreme case of ACDC (uh, ADHD. Not the band, hehe). My other boss’ obsession is with meetings. Where we discuss the latest in fashion, movies, and of course, the classics – ranging from music to books and to whatever he can think of to keep the meeting going.

When I was new, I used to enjoy these conversations because, aside from keeping me from doing actual work, I get to have free history and literature classes. As I was getting older with the company and tasks and assignments are also getting heavier, these meetings became something that I struggle to escape everyday.

Not that I do not like my bosses, though. Besides these things and a million others, I believe they are alright bosses. And I would not have stayed this long if I could not stand working with them. There, point number two justified.

3. Here, people are always calling me for information I do not have. Both people from here and those goddamn credit card people. I believe these are people I cannot easily get rid of, unless I decide to unplug my phone for a day. Which, of course, I will not do else I’ll be spending a considerable time everyday responding to emails from people who cannot reach me over the phone.

4. We have a reliable messenger, though. Who takes care of my bills, my bank transfers, my breakfast, lunch, and occasional Cremil-s and Mefenamic Acid from the clinic. I have an officemate who is always willing to run to the nearest Watson’s to get me a feminine pad, regardless of how humiliating it will be for him. I have my constant movie buddy, dinner buddy, kainuman, the most reliable colleague I know, who I can confidently call anytime of the day to throw tantrums at, to grant my unreasonable demands, and to listen to my endless rants about my (former) dysfunctional lovelife. And no, he is not a love interest.

5. My office has a sluggish internet connection. My yahoo messenger gets interrupted in the middle of important conversations (meaning: phone conferences discussing inuman the following night) and heated arguments (discussing the pros and cons of going to the US or anywhere out of the country for work and otherwise). These interruptions resulting to grave damage to my social life.

6. In my workplace, our pantry is otherwise known as Starbucks. And sometimes, Delifrance.

7. Financially, I can confidently say that I am not starving, though my lifestyle is still waay far from being comfortable.

This time, however, my great spending talent is not to blame. I simply want too much.

What am I doing writing all these things down? Actually, I am just reassessing myself and my decision to stay where I am right now. And I realized what I already know. That I do not have much. Am I happy? With all these annoyances? I definitely am.

Regardless of the non-air-conditioned apartment, my non-solo room, the more than occasional ipis and the now-becoming-constant cat shit on our doorstep, because my current job does not provide me much, I definitely am satisfied with the way things are. For now.

euphemisms for discontent.

This is my picture of an ideal job and workplace:

1. No deadlines to meet.

2. No bosses ordering me around, no bosses calling me every few minutes to bore me with stories about the Roman Empire and Shakespeare and Yeats and Hemmingway, when we should be discussing business processes and risks instead.

3. No phone queries about procedures I basically don’t have the slightest idea about (which I normally end up responding with let-me-get-back-to-you-in-a-few-minutes then have to undergo a fifteen-minute crash course on procurement, etc. to be able to really get back to these callers – blame it in part on my paranoia with what people are saying upon putting down their phones and in part on my uncanny inclination to people-please).

4. Fast internet connection is a must. Also, social networking sites should not be blocked, for reasons I need not elaborate here because I am sure most, if not everybody, can relate to this. YM that does not get disconnected every now and then.

5. Access to a pantry that never runs out of coffee.

6. An office where I can use earplugs without my bosses complaining, because I can’t hear them calling me. Which is essentially the idea.

7. And my payroll ATM card has to always have something in it. Though this last one will largely depend on my ability to spend or not to spend. Just happens that I have a great spending talent, so there.

one of the few times i am really proud to own something.

The plan was to look for Pratchett in Powerbooks. He was nowhere to be found.

The only Pratchett book there was “Good Omens,” which was written together with Neil Gaiman. But of course, even without that book having been written with Terry Pratchett, the probability is I already have that book.

Well.





I already have that book.


We were about to leave Powerbooks when Don spotted this:

What else should one expect me to do? Without second thoughts thinking, I grabbed the book and brought it to the cashier. What I was about to do then was to ask for another copy, since the one displayed already has creases on the front cover. I was a bit disappointed when the store assistant said that that was the only copy left of the book. So for about a split-second, I considered looking somewhere else. But, what the heck, I want that book, and I want it there and then.

So, at around four on Monday afternoon, I already have my own copy of DC’s Heroes – Volume 1.

HEROES Graphic Novel @ Wiki:

This is a list of issues of NBC's Heroes webcomic, which supplements the television drama of the same name. The comics, which NBC refers to as graphic novels, are made available on their official website each Tuesday.

Written by the show's writers and drawn by Aspen Comics, they are generally 7-9 pages long, the first page of which is always an advertisement for a vehicle made by Nissan, one of the sponsors for the series. The comics give additional character background and plot information not shown in the television episodes.

Wildstorm, a subsidiary of DC Comics released the first 34 chapters in a hardcover volume on November 7, 2007. Entitled "Volume One", the collection also includes Tim Sale's artwork as seen on the show.

The comics are available in both PDF and Flash formats; the PDF versions are linked below. The Flash versions often offer a link to a "hidden surprise", also listed below. A few also have an animated version.

I know that this page exists, though I never got the chance to read any of the episodes. Regardless, nothing beats having MY own copy, and being able to touch and read it at my own pleasure, in my own bed, even without my laptop and a working internet.

This is what a long self-declared weekend does.

First New things first. I have changed phones and I am using a new number. I know... I have this annoying hobby of changing numbers every so often. This time, though, the change is not self-motivated.

I lost my phone last Friday. Bought a new phone on Saturday. On Sunday, I was busy installing new phone settings and games, uploading music and trying to connect to the net.

Come Monday, I have a brand new phone again. This was because the phone which I had bought on Saturday decided to shut itself off and refused to turn back on. Just like that. Just like some other things. Which means I have to have myself be absent from work to have it checked in Glorietta, where I bought it. (Okay, that was an excuse. I decided not to come to work hours before my phone broke down).

On a positive note, since the Sony Ericsson outlet is just across Hard Rock, I, together with my two housemates, decided to spend the time in Hard Rock, for our light (expensive!) snack, while waiting for my phone to get checked and to be replaced with a new one, eventually. I was suggesting that we eat at Dad’s instead, where they have this merienda buffet for only 130 pesos. But no, we had to be at Hard Rock for the experience.

The few times I had been there, it was always to attend company-initiated and company-funded events. So I did not know that a bottle of San Mig lite costs 95 pesos there. With prices like this, starting with the San Mig lite, one is inclined to think and realize several things.

1. The place is worth the price and given the chance, the right company and, of course, the right amount of money, I would want to keep coming back there.

2. Keeping up with this kind of lifestyle for even just a week will drain me of a whole month’s sweldo.

3. The place also made me realize that I want to put up something like this in Naga, but this business is waay to classy and expensive, I could never afford investing in something like this, regardless of the fact that the people in Naga will most probably afford and appreciate this scene.

4. I’ll always vote in favor of our old trusted convention, we’ll drink at home instead. This way, we can have as may beers as we want, and it’s way cheaper.