The Saddest (Pop) Song I've ever heard...

...is Dido's "Honestly OK."
Listen to the saddest pop song I've ever heard here.
Read the lyrics to the saddest pop song I've ever heard below:

Photo taken here.

i just want to feel safe in my own skin i just want to be happy again
i just want to feel deep in my own world
but im so lonely i dont even want to be with myself anymore
 
on a different day
if i was safe in my own skin
then i wouldn't feel lost and so frightened
but this is today and im lost in my own skin
and im so lonely i dont even want to be with myself anymore
 
i just want to feel safe in my own skin i just want to be happy again 


Today, for some inexplicable reason, I find myself the song that grew limbs. I hate days like these.

A Need to Return to Never Never Land

Photo taken here.

It's like I barely have faith in anything anymore. It's not a hasty generalization. My full embracing of the pragmatic paradigm I carry oh so proudly has caused the death of a big chunk of what made me who I am before, what made me interesting, what made me fun, what made me surprising, what made me quirky, what made me silly, what made me passionate, what made a little bit (that's underplaying it) out of this world. I've killed that part to become who I think I should be. But I wonder now, is it worth it? The change, the sacrifice, the consequence: the person I am right now.

Last night, I went out with Martin and Brian and his sister Louie to Metro Walk to have Martin's and Brian's fortunes told, or rather, to have a peak of what the stars have in store of them, to gain access to that elusive light the stars can give them, the seek a certain someone tapped by the cosmos to be some sort of gateway to the secrets of the universe. His name was August, and he was 30 minutes late from their midnight appointment.

Fastforward to 6am, when Martin and I were on our way home, it dawned on me that I've become a non-believer in most many things! I found it poetic that I thought of this at dawn. And as the faintest sunlight hit the road, that was when it occurred to me that my ego has been, for the longest time now, suffocating my id and thus, the imbalance I'm experience which comes to me in the form of restlessness, insecurity, jealousy, that feeling of inadequacy, that something is missing.

Outside of work, I've a rountinal life which is bad enough considering that my life in the office is routinal too. Nothing shocks me anymore. Yeah surprises here and there abound in our squared life inside our office which is literally fit into a square space, but nothing too extraordinary. And I long for that, and I hate it that I'm making my work my main life to the point that when I'm out of the office "having a life," I talk about my life in the office. That sucks. And I'm not pleased, no matter how much I love my work.

I want something new to talk about. I want to do something new. I want to meet new people and not continue to batter myself over my lack of friends in the office. I want a change in the system. I want to find a hobby. And I find the very idea of wanting to find a hobby weird since that should be the easiest thing! A hobby is something you enjoy, something you find interesting, something that keeps you awake and happy. I'm saddened that I don't know what should be my hobby.

Writing has always been a hobby. I used to keep a journal where I scribbled poetry, prose, essays, fiction, non-fiction, dear-diary moments, and all words in between, but ever since I've carved a career from this hobby, I don't know what else I should do and so, being with friends who've known me since grade school, Martin and Brian, jolt me out of the very square system I've trapped myself in. They jolt me and remind me that there's more out there to explore, that I need to once again open my mind and reconnect with the universe, and by universe, I refer to that time of uninhibition.

I need to return to Never Land, and the first step I need to take is to read my old journals in order to get to know myself again. Though forward is the direction we should be leading to, a look-back on the steps we took prior to where we stand on right now will serve as our compass. That's something new I will believe in.

Sugababes, Sugababes, Sugababes, and Sugababes again

SUGABABES 1.0: Exploring the Real Thing

SUGABABES 1.0: (L-R) Siobhan Donaghy, Mutya Buena, and Keisha Buchanan

When I first heard "Overload," it didn't catch my attention immediately. What did though was its video which seemed like a parody of a United Colors of Benetton poster—what with their unmistakably distinct appearances: a Caucasian (Siobhan Donaghy is of Irish descent), an African-English (Keisha Buchanan is of Jamaican descent), and an Asian (Mutya Buena is of Filipino descent). It wasn't until the acoustic, soul track "New Year" was released when I noticed them; it didn't hurt that the video was pretty unique too. Follow-up singles "Run for Cover" and "Soul Sound" made sure that I bought their album, One Touch which had other interesting tracks that had a raw, demo-like sound—a fusion of soul, funk, and acoustic pop music. Among my favorites include "Promises," "Real Thing," and "One Foot In."

SUGABABES 1.0: A seeming advocacy of the United Colors of Benetton campaign

I especially liked the fact that I could easily distinguish their voices. Siobhan had an effortlessly simple, lethargic voice that rendered an indie appeal. Keisha's voice had an innocent and soulful tone which complemented Mutya's gritty, domineering sound. Together, they sounded brilliant! They produced a separate-together harmony. Though well-blended, if you listened closely, you could easily hear each member singing which I thought was refreshing.


SUGABABES 2.0:  Taller in More Ways, Indeed

When I heard wind that Siobhan had left (she wanted to pursue a fashion career, the release said, though the reason would be revealed later on as incessant bullying that led to her clinical depression), I thought it would be end of the Sugababes until I heard "Round Round" which I loved immediately, particularly the third verse wherein the song slows down. It was the beautiful new member Heidi Range singing! Her deep, soulful voice delivered a heavily heartfelt punch that was impossible to ignore. She immediately became my favorite member.

SUGABABES 2.0: (L-R) Heidi Range, Mutya Buena, and Keisha Buchanan

The Sugababes' second incarnation had a distinct sound from its original predecessor. Mutya, Keisha, and Heidi churned out music that seemed like the antithesis to girl group groove. Their music was darker ("Freak Like Me", "Stronger"), more soulful ("Too Lost In You", "Caught in a Moment"), and catchier (funky "Hole in the Head", flirty "Push the Button", and anthemic "Ugly"). It was a play of elements from R&B to soul, to techno, to acoustic, and to street. The arrangements of their songs highlighted their individuality (their template arrangement of Mutya-Keisha-Heidi was hard to miss), underscoring each member's distinct vocal pyrotechnics and at the same time, in some songs, boasted of unpredictable arrangements reminiscent of the vocal arrangements of 1.0. Lyrically, Sugababes 2.0 discussed adolescent themes of independence, relationships, sexuality, and individuality (there was also a noticeable overuse of the word "freak" for some reason) which were reflected in their choice of hit-and-miss fashion forays: leather and lace, ghetto and glam.

SUGABABES 2.0: Leather and Lace, Ghetto and Glam

During this era, Mutya stood out as the undisputed leader. She pouted moodily, raised an eyebrow, and pulled off fashion that was part ghetto and part drag. She was street, she was funk, and she was the axis Keisha and Heidi orbited around. (Her musical influence on 2.0's overall sound is proven in her debut solo album, the dark element which 3.0 lacks.)

I think that the Sugababes 2.0 was the golden era in the Sugababes legacy.


SUGABABES 3.0: Changed and Changing

I didn't think I would be a fan of Sugababes 3.0. "Easy" sounded mediocre and was crassly written. "About You Now," however, changed my mind. Husky-voiced Amelle Berrabah of Moroccan descent, who didn't hold a candle to Mutya (her re-recorded versions of "Red Dress" and "Follow Me Home" lacked the attitude and sultriness of Mutya's versions), contributed a different flavor nonetheless and I grew to like and accept her.

SUGABABES 3.0: (L-R) Keisha Buchanan, Amelle Berrabah, and Heidi Range

Sugababes 3.0 saw the rise of Keisha. It was an opportune time for her to dominate and establish herself as the leader of the gang. She was, after all, the remaining founding member. Musically, 3.0 was experimental. In Change, they rode the dance-pop sound that made 2.0's ground-breaking Taller In More Ways successful. In Catfights and Spotlights, they rode the jazzy Adelle and Amy Winehouse bandwagon, while in the Sweet 7 (I count this as 3.0's album still, in spite of the re-recorded vocals because it was conceptualized and produced before Keisha was fired), they then rode the techno-dance-R&B Ne-Yo, Rihanna, and Ke$ha bandwagon.

SUGABABES 3.0: Riding the trends, embracing pop culture

Sugababes 3.0 lost the identity that 2.0 toiled to create. It didn't help either that they kept changing their sound. Still, they had some standout singles such as "Denial" and "I Bet You Look Good on the Dancefloor" (an Arctic Monkeys cover; though not an official single, it might as well have been because of its popularity; a good choice I'm sure Mutya would approve of); and album tracks such as "Never Gonna Dance Again" (a dance song, reminiscent of "Careless Whisper"), "Back Down" (another track from Change like the former), "Nothing's As Good As You" (a very pretty, Motown-inspired song), and "Betcha By Golly Wow" (a Prince cover with Heidi on lead).

Furthermore, Sugababes 3.0 embraced a more glamorous image (which 1.0 and 2.0 seemed to avoid, preferring teenage tank tops and jeans and rubber shoes and boots over low-necked, skimpy tops and short skirts and high heels), probably to keep up with then competition Girls Aloud whose members all looked like models and truthfully, only Heidi could compare (she was included in an FHM top list). Keisha and Amelle, though not unattractive themselves, looked heavily made up. Furthermore still, 3.0 also embraced a sexier image, which 2.0 introduced via number single "Push the Button."


SUGABABES 4.0: Gets Sexy Right Now

And then the Sugababes took on a fourth rebirth, an edgier, sexier, and prettier reboot via Sugababes 4.0; Heidi, Amelle, and UK Eurovision contestant Jade Ewen maintaining the racial diversity of Siobhan, Mutya, and Keisha nonetheless—a quality unique to the Sugababes.

To be honest, just because Heidi was still around (and I was never a big fan of Keisha), I was still willing to give the new and current line-up a chance to win my heart and after several loops of "About A Girl," win my heart they did, especially after hearing them live and acoustic at Radio 1's Live Lounge when they also sang a cover of Florence + The Machine's "Rabbit Heart (Raise It Up)."

SUGABABES 4.0: (L-R) Jade Ewen, Heidi Range, and Amelle Berrabah

Jade is very likable. She has a pretty face, a pair of legs that flows endlessly below her micro mini skirts, and a soaring, jaw-dropping vocal talent that Keisha wish she had when 3.0 performed En Vogue's "Don't Let Go" and Labelle's "Lady Marmalade." I kid, I kid. Jade contributes a gospel sound to the Sugababes sound, and though refreshingly interesting, it makes the haunting, dark sound that 2.0 started and 3.0 deviated from, officially obsolete. Even if she complements Amelle's and Heidi's husky and vocals respectively, she outshines them unintentionally (?), steering the Sugababes sound in the direction that Destiny's Child took. Take a listen to "Wait for You," "Thank you for the Heartbreak," and "No More You" and see for yourself. This adds meat to Mutya's claims that replacing Keisha would turn Amelle and Heidi into back-ups; it also asserts my earlier claim of Keisha's efforts to reign during the 3.0 era. After all, the arrangements of the songs in 4.0's re-recorded Sweet 7 were done while Keisha was around.

SUGABABES 4.0: "You don't know about a girl, I'll take over the world..."

Not much can be said, therefore, of 4.0's sound, because the songs in Sweet 7 were not theirs as a group but that of 3.0's trailing of the American dream (its flopping therefore may not be entirely blamed on them), and especially because they keep singing Sugababes hits in their live performances with very minor vocal rearrangements. Living in the shadows of 2.0 and 3.0, it's disappointing how they replicate the vocal arrangements of the former and chameleon image of the latter.

What I hope, though, is that they create a new sound unique and fitting to their vocals and not live in the shadows of their predecessors (like what they're doing now, probably to evoke feelings of familiarity in Sugababes fans) and re-create an image distinct from skanky American girl groups Pussycat Dolls, Danity Kane, and Girlicious. If their choice of "Rabbit Heart" is any indication of their type of music, then I've high hopes on 4.0's upcoming new album. I'm crossing my fingers.

What would Grandmother Willow say?

Photo taken here.

Maturity is...

Learning how to moderate your id;

It's about thinking before talking;

Discerning when to say "yes" and "no";

Learning how to swallow your pride for the people you love;

Knowing when the time to speak and keep quiet is...

Is that right?

Wine and Cheese

Photo taken here.

I've developed a liking for cheese and red wine. Honestly, I've no clue what kind of cheese or what brand of red wine I've been devouring for the past three days! All I know is that the cheese is a lot more solid than the commercial cheese we use for spaghetti and it's packaged in a steel container (the round one, kind of similar to the container where we place leche flan in) while the red wine has a stronger kick than what I'm used to that, after finishing my wine and cheese from my bed, when I get up, I feel surprisingly dizzy! Haha! Yeah, I'm ashamed of my alcohol tolerance, damn it! Really lovin' the cheese and wine thing after dinner though. It makes me feel very cultured. Oh yeah!

Conrado de Quiros

Conrado de Quiros never fails to engage me with his writing. He is passionate and sharp and witty and biased and fair and snide and brave and funny and heart-warming and poetic and cruel and kind. I bet it'd be excruciating to work under his wing. But then again, if that's what it takes to close to half as good he is as a writer, why not?

Here are my favorite excerpts from his column today, titled "Pulling through", a commentary on P-Noy's first 100-day report which is called "Report kay Boss":

Photo taken here.

It shows that the Pinoy is not the supine and prostrate and mendicant individual the dole-out approach to alleviating poverty makes her out to be. She is perfectly capable of taking care of herself, she just lacks an attribute or two, or an endowment here and there, to bring her to where she wants to go, to enable her to grasp the heights she means to reach. All she needs is a little help from her friends. Or her president.

From the other end, it shows that P-Noy is not the lost and dazed and Hamletian leader his critics make him out to be. He is perfectly capable of grace under pressure, or acting so easily, so naturally, to get people—or a country—out of a bind. He just isn’t loud, he just doesn’t spend his time advertising it. He will yet show his mettle, enabling this country to reach the heights it means to grasp. All he needs is a little help from his people. Or his Boss.

To read the full article, click on this link: "Pulling through" by Conrado de Quiros

Wasn't that beautiful?

I always wonder why brillant minds like this guy don't run for politics. But eventually, I realized that think tanks like them are needed as spectators, to play's devil's advocate, to be a critic, to be a fan--perspectives I worry they may no have the luxury of possessing once they are placed at the eye of the storm, that is, Philippine politics.

Paying bills over the phone can be fun

Photo taken here.

I feel very productive and empowered today. Before Mommy left, she left me the responsibility to pay our bills via express teller which can be done over the phone. And I'm proud to say that I've taken care of 80% of the bills! Whew! But it was fun too, if only because I get to put to good use my being anal. What frustrated me though was the accounting balance sheet. I studied this in college! In fact, I took nine f-ing units of the subject (not counting the extra three I had to take because I repeated). Damn it. So, I came up with my own balance sheet. A very wordy, but very detailed balance sheet. Ha! Take that Accounting Choa (my Accounting teacher who flunked me in freshman year)! Goes to show that everything doesn't always have to be by the book to work out.

Tomorrow, or some time this week, I'll be opening the still enveloped bills, review them, and pay them. I've a feeling I'll be doing the administrative work of the family business someday. I have a strong, strong feeling. And how ironic if it turns out that way, considering the effort I took to stray from all things numbers. Ironic and a little bit funny. Then again, wouldn't kill me to get better acquainted with the digits as early as now, get myself comfortable with the possibly imminent future.

And so it begins.

Photo taken here.

 
...and the big yellow taxi took my girl away...
-"Big Yellow Taxi" by Counting Crows

To Madrid, Spain.
My sister, together with my Mom, that is.
We were at the airport at 8:00am, two hours before their flight at 10:00am.

One year is a long time to be apart.
And it's a first too, for us to celebrate Christmas and New Year apart.

...there's a hole in my heart in the shape of you...
"The Shape of You" by Jewel

I didn't cry in the airport just as I promised myself I wouldn't.
It's not me trying to be macho or anything.
Rather, it's me wanting to be that one smiling face.
I wanted to be that one reminder that parting, though it brings tears, also promises adventure.
This is something she's long wanted.
A dream.
I should know.
I was her carpool mate when she conceived this dream to take her masters abroad.
That day prompted the beginning and the realization of her dream.

...already I'm so lonesome I could die...
Leaving on a Jet Plane, Chantal Kreviazuk

But I miss her already.
The house seems incomplete.
I feel incomplete.
Like I'm missing a body part.
We'll keep in touch for sure.
But it will not be the same.
It will not be the same.
It is not the same.

Earlier, though I meant to be funny, I meant it too when I said that the moment we stepped out of our car from bringing her to the airport, we have begun living our days without her.
Yeah, we're a family severely attached to each other.
And the idea of being apart has been far-fetched until this day.
One year apart.
Imagine that.
I don't need to.
And so it begins.

I'm rooting for you big sister!

Three train rides to return to a comfort zone I left five months ago

Photo take here.

Coming from Shaw Boulevard station, I took the train to Cubao, and then another to Recto, and from Doroteo Jose, another to UN Avenue. Whew! Three trains. Lots of walking and people bumping and grinding and pushing in between rides. From my current office in Ortigas, I was headed to my previous one in Manila.

In that train ride going to Cubao, I was wedged in the middle of three people and the conversation they were having.

"Oo, dapat wala kang 'p and f' syndrome pag nag-aaply ka dun (Yes, you shouldn't interchange p and f in your speech when you apply there)," Lady 1 said.

"Tama, sosyal kasi yung companyang yun! Kelangan slang ka! (That's true! It's because that company is fancy! You need to have an American twang!)" Lady 2 said. By this time, I inferred that they were talking about a call center company with American clients. "Kaya nga di ako nakapasa sa kanila eh. (And that's why I didn't pass their standards.)" The Boy started speaking in English sentences with an American accent. Though he can speak better English than the two ladies he was with, if the twang is a requirement, let's just say that I doubt if he'll be luckier.

A pause.

"Ate, kayo po ba ba dati, nung nagde-date ba kayo nung asawa niyo, madalas kayo magkita? (When you and your husband were still dating, did you see each other often?)" Boy asked Lady 1.

"Di masyado, mga 2-3 times a week lang. Lam mo naman, di kami kayamanan kaya di masyado makalabas-labas (Not so much, around 2-3 times a week only. You know what it's like, because we didn't have much money, we didn't get to go on dates as often)," she chuckled.

Photo taken here.

"Ako simpleng buhay lang talaga gusto ko (I only want a simple life)," he said, his voice pensive amid the sound of the train and the announcements blasting from the speakers. "Pinalaki kami ng mga magulang ko sa simpleng buhay at ang maka-graduate kaming magkakapatid, yan lang ang pangarap ng mga magulang ko, at ang mabuhay ng simple, yan din ang pangarap ko. Isang simpleng buhay na merong sapat lang para mabuhay ng maayos (My parents raised us in a simple life. Their only ambition was for my siblings and I graduate from college and to continue living a simple life, that is my dream as well. A simple life with just the right resources to live right)."

The train stopped in Cubao, and like beads falling from a jar, the people swarmed out of the exit and headed to the escalator where I also headed. A simple life, huh? I wonder what's that like. Not that my life ain't simple, in fact, I think it is. But more simple, I think mine's rather more quiet, routinal to a fault even. I'm not complaining.

Photo taken here.

And then from Recto station, there's that long stretch of overpass leading to Doroteo Jose station, overseeing shanty houses of rotting wood, rusty metal, and worn out tires where clothes hung on a metal string. My heart never fails to go out to those who live this way. I think that having received my education in the Ateneo for 17 years (that's more than half of my life!) really inculcated a heightened awareness of poverty in me. This is why it kills me to be powerless at the face of a child looking up, hand cupped, asking for alms. I wonder what President Noynoy, an Atenean and in the position of power, will do about this.

In that stretch, I bumped into Kenneth. He was one of IT guys who serviced our computers when they wonked out. I was one of his frequent clients what with my luck in technology (I unintentionally put to retirement two computers in the office, but to be fair, these were ancient computers passed down to me by my predecessors)!

After sharing a few stories and some updates on each others' lives, I asked if he'll still be staying in the company.
"Maybe a year more," he said. "I don't know, it's just difficult starting from scratch you know? Friends-wise, I mean, and that is something I'm not sure I can trade for a higher pay elsewhere."

Ah, the gravity of the comfort zone. But I understood him though. Having been in my current office for five months already, I'm ashamed to say that I've yet to make a lot of friends which makes life a little more dull and work, a little more difficult just because I'm in the business of internal communications. Besides the stuff I receive from contributors, the hunt for stories is a pain and unlike in my old office where I also handled marketing communications (besides corporate communications), opportunities to make friends were everywhere because I had busienss with practically every department. Now, things are different. Work is more serious. The office is a couple of notches more corporate. No regrets though. Come to think of it, I was in the old office for a year and a half before I was able to get to know a good number of my colleagues.

Finally I was in Manila. I headed to our Human Resources and department, and finally, I got my final salary. It's a modest figure, to be honest, but for my first employment, it's adequate. I also got to see friends in HR. I was surprised that two have returned. One resigned in late Decemeber last year, and the other, hmm... I think she resigned in late April or early May. I remember her telling me that she was already in between applications.

Photo taken here.

Vicky said that she returned because of the people. "I like the people here," she said, gesturing the circle with her finger (perhaps referring only to the people in HR?). Yes the pay in a multinational company is more or less double and the benefits are awesome, but the culture? Cutthroat cold. "They're something else, I tell you," she said to me. "I was just really lucky that my post was still vacant and that my boss still let me back." Wasn't she the same woman who called it quits because of this same boss? I wonder how worse it was where she found herself in and how better it actually is in the company many of my then colleagues described as a career (and salary) limbo. Maybe they stayed for the people and are staying for the people just like Kenneth is. The lure of the comfort zone sure is irresistible.

Coming back to my old office feels like a homecoming. More than an office, now, it seems to level with the feelings I get when I visit my old school. The nostalgia and all. The familiarity of the walls in the HR office, the dimly lit hallways, the smell of the air inside of the elevator, the piles of files on the carpeted floor, the cramped office quarters, the dingy computers, the low ceiling. I know that I describe the old office like a hell-ish place to work in, but there is warmth there. If you allow yourself to get close enough with the right people, you develop a kinship and you build a home with them. The latter is something I look forward to having in my current office. Like everything else, the time will come.

Jeepneys and Childhood Games

Photo taken here.

"God gave me you" read the hanging signage on the step going inside the jeepney. I love looking at or reading the graffiti messages on public transport just because they're so arbitrary. From suggestive to religious to inspirational to commercial, it's all there. Interesting, huh?

This particular jeepney struck a chord in me. Probably because I have my sister in mind. She leaves for Spain this Saturday morning, have I said that already? Anyway, yes, she's going away and staying in Madrid for one year. My mom would be joining her for a month though, so at least she'd feel less homesick. What keeps me up though is the idea that I could be visiting her next year, in April, in time for her birthday. I got to save major buckets of cash for that! I really hope I get a bonus at the end of the year.

*  *  *

Photo taken here.

Drove myself to the office again today, and the thing is, I'm really starting to enjoy it. In Quezon City Circle this morning, a jeepney was able to move from one lane to the other and then next via a kid on the passenger seat waving his arm and looking at incoming vehicles. The arm-signal seemed pretty effective, the jeepney got to avenue he needed to just in time before the proper, allowable curve of the road leading to it ended.

*  *  *

Photo taken here.

In lunch today, my more senior officemates were sharing the toys and games they played when they were young: a wooden ball with a nail and a rope (aka, the "authentic top"); mercury from a thermometer; climbing aratilis trees, sitting on a branch, and eating the tiny fruits from there (I used to climb and pick them myself too but would be too nervous to eat while sitting on a branch, instead I'd keep them in my pockets and eat them when I get home); getting spiders to fight in a stick; getting beatles to fight in a stick; targetting farm animals with a slingshot; bathing in the rain.

Photo taken here.

They practically grew up in the province, they said. Come to think of it, they're country boys and girls! Though I'm a big fanboy of country music, I'm a city boy at heart. That said, my childhood wasn't as boring as they think it is. I played patintero and all the street games kids my age played then. I even used to create swords out of the wooden scrap that our carpenters threw away (context: our house was being rennovated at that time). So there, yes, I think I had a pretty awesome childhood. My sister and I used to hold picnics in our backyard! We would sneak out the banig (mat) from the householdhelp's room ever so quietly, fix ourselves orange juice and peanut butter sandwiches, and off we went to the garden. It was a grand time. And to this day, I can still taste my orange juice dipped peanut butter sandwich.

A Happy Morning, Ma'am Reyna, A Happy Face at the Airport, and the Lesson to be Learned from 'fessing up

Photo taken here.

Today's one of those days when I woke with a smile on my face. Even if it's at 6:30am without having my dose of coffee. I took my time getting up. Without my sister beckoning on me to get my ass moving so that she won't be late and with the car at my disposal, I was in control. And I liked it. I turned on the TV, watched some music videos, and then got a move on at 7am, prepared a sandwich to much on in the car, left the house at 7:30am, and arrived in the office at 8:30am. Nevermind that it was a bit traffic in EDSA.

*  *  *

I emailed Ma'am Reyna this morning. She is one of vice presidents of the company I first worked in that I was lucky to've been pretty well-acquianted with. What with all the projects we worked on together! Collaterals like flyiers, tarpaulines, posters, emailers, ads... the list goes on I tell you. With the immense coverage of her job description, Ma'am Reyna was practically involved in all projects! Seriously, it was crazy and at almost 60, she is pert as a happy bee. She jumps when she's excited, raises her voice when she's passionate (by passionate, I mean either angry or happy), and runs about the office to chase the door before it closes. God I miss her.

Photo taken here.

She replied that she's doing well, and that she can't attend Adam Lambert's coming concert, that's she's resigned to just watching tv and not going to concerts like she used to. She's a fan of Glambert you know, of American Idol actually. Lambert was her bet, and at that time, she insisted that he's straight and I remember emailing her photos of Adam in drag. I liked Kris Allen better than him then. Now, after both have released solo albums, I'm a Glambert fanboy. In fact I'm considerin going to his concert. Hmm... Back to Ma'am Reyna, I will never forget her story on how she wore this leather jacket which she waved in the air as Mig Ayesa performed. I think that was the ad congress or some event in Subic. Though I didn't see her in action, the idea of her waving her leather jacket in the air while woohoo-ing is very believable and easy to imagine.

*  *  *

My sister's leaving this Saturday morning with my Mom. I have decided not to cry. I will be the one smiling face she will see seeing her off. While everyone will indulge in the feeling of missing her, I will lathe her with the excitement of a new adventure. I will not cry.

*  *  *

Sometimes you just want to do something crazy in your life, the one you've never really attempted to rumple like a bedsheet. And you think that calling a certain someone to say, "You know what? You and I make sense together. Why don't we go out again?" At the risk of sounding like a fool, at the risk of being coldly rejected, at the risk of never seeing this person again. But then again, have I not done this before? And I wonder, what should've been my learning from that experience? Never do it again, or that do it again if only to keep proving that cliche that the truth will set you free? And it did set me free, telling the truth to the person. Does this mean that the latter is the better choice then? I can't decide.

Photo taken here.

Pot-bellied police, a janitor, and Mickey Mouse

The car I was left to drive to the office today was not allowed in the highways from 7am onwards, and in spite of my two phones alarming their micro tin hearts out to me at 5am, it took my Lola sitting next to me and shaking me by my shoulder, her voice urging me to get up, to really wake me up at the golden time of 6am. Enough time for a quick shower, I thought.

At 6:30am, I was already in the bottleneck at the end of East Avenue leading to EDSA. And by 7:30am, I got in my office. An hour and thirty early from our call time. It amazes me how, when I need it the most, I become invisible to the hounding, pot-bellied men of the MMDA. It's amazing.

Photo taken here.

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Parking. A maintenance crew blocked my way. I slowed down and quietly, waited for him to cross the street. He took his time crossing, holding his broom and dustpan, and I figured that his turtle steps was a protest against arrogant drivers who beep him out of the way. The quick, snide look gave him away. My engine made sure to breathe heavily towards his direction.

Photo taken here.

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Hungry, first thing I did when I got to my desk was remove the tape off of the lid of my rolled-up instant chocolate oatmeal and and then I poured some to my mug. Like dandruff, a lot fell on the carpeted floor. I let them be. I noticed that more was falling down the carpeted floor. SHIT! My oatmeal pack had been nibbled by Mickey Mouse! Fuck you Mickey Mouse!!!

Pissed, I threw out my oatmeal in one of the plastic bags I keep in my drawer and with a heavy heart, settled for instant hot chocolate. Fuck you Mickey Mouse!!! Better not show yourself, else I'll stomp you dead!

Photo taken here.

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My sister is leaving for Spain this weekend. The pang of the reality bit me during lunch today. Shit. But instead of sulking in my usual seperation anxieties, I cleared my mind and thought of upgrading the family album gift my sibs and I are giving to her to a care package full of her favorite things. Filipino chick flicks like "Got to Believe" and "Til there was You". Chocnut... and then my mind went blank. Twenty five years I've spent with her and I don't know what my older sister's favorites are at the snap of a finger. Sad face.

Tonight I'll very discreetly fish out her favorite things. Hmmm... I need creative seques.

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As usual, I'm the last one out of the office. The color coding scheme forces me out of the road until 7pm. Sigh. I wish I had a bigger desk.

First Post

I wanted to become a botanist when I was a kid. I remember picking leaves from our garden, placing them in a jar full of water to soak under the sun, and then adding alcohol a few hours later. It would then emit this rich, intoxicating smell that I thought was pretty awesome. I was so into plants at that time that I even considered pooling my savings to subscribe to this (now defunct?) magazine called Agriculture! Luckily I didn't. Instead, I continued to spend my allowance on those cardboard X-Men cards.

Fastforward to sophomore high school when I decided to become a journalist. I joined all those communication-related clubs to sharpen my skills. Poetry club. School magazine. Debate. That was a golden time for me, in sophomore year, I mean. It was the time I discovered that I could write. My English teacher, Ms. Carol, gave me my first A and the first A she'd ever given in her teaching career, she said. My heart literally grew wings. I realized that I had a talent, that I wasn't just a hardworker. She said that I should honor my "gift" by making use of it. That turning point pushed me to dream to become a journalist.

Fastforward to after college, and I found myself not in journalism but in corporate communication, a field I never even knew existed and yet somehow, it fit me. I love my job! I get to write, travel, attend events, and rub elbows with interesting and important people like politicians, media men and women (whom I feel are kindred spirits), and hotshot executives. One thing I don't like about it though, is that with all the business writing I'm doing on a daily basis, I feel my creativity being stunted. That would only make my creative writing gurus frown even if I was never really their stellar or favorite student. Still.

I was watching Marley and Me in Star Movies earlier tonight when my brother asked me how hard is it to write a column. I said that it depends on the frequency and the number of words. Originally, Owen Wilson's character only had to write a column twice a week. Then, after readership skyrocketed, his column became a daily. And what really did he write about? Everything and anything! Sigh. How lucky.

I've always wanted to have a column. Starting today, I will write on this blog everyday. This is a challenge I will be undertaking in spite of the busy schedule. A time to write and honor a gift. Here I go!