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.