Farewell, EITSC!

It feels strange having to say goodbye to someone you love, aye? Especially when you don't feel like going but you must go. It just brings tears to the eyes. Today is my last working day at EITSC. For more than 2 years, I have grown to love what I do and who I do my (or not my) job with. I worked with various people in here and I must say, I enjoyed working with them even if it means having to disagree with their ideas and debating on work issues more than half of the times. My apologies to some people I screamed at and who may have thought I'm a katipunera from my past life. I think I learned how to handle certain things maturely now. It was just me and Ms. Ga in the office. And while I must turnover things responsibly, we took breaks [and fotos] in between work to share views on just about anything. And by breaks, I mean these --

And since it was only the two of us, we decided to take our lunch out, her treat. It's her farewell gift to me. We did not really want to take long walks so we agreed to have lunch at Earle's, the American way. Pfft! We were not really hungry, you can tell!

We took our time walking the paths along Buendia. I'm afraid I won't set foot on the pavements of The Columns more often after this year so we took advantage of the opportunity at hand!

And just as I was waiting in line for my turn at the nearby bank's ATM, we chanced upon an interesting Honda car. Suddenly we were like little boys drooling over a really good toy. I am not really sure what the exterior material is made of but it's like fiber glass. Asteg!

I am so going to miss EITSC. This must be how Mav, Ms. Ree and Lala felt when they left EITSC... and me. Drama! All the best for all! Happy new year!

I Got A 'Baby'

Allan gave me a 'Baby' for a birthday present. No, not the cute tiny creature moms love to cuddle. It's an Apple iPhone 3Gs! Too much trouble for him, I think, to buy me such a thing but he said 'It's nothing. Anything to make you happy.' Oh God, I told you he's the sweetest thing! My Sweet. Thank you! Thank you!

I'm calling it my 'Baby'. I'm still at the insatiable point of exploring the features of my Baby. Except for the initial disappointment that I could not immediately use my existing simcard because it's locked for some reasons yet, I'm happy there's an iPod in it! Now I could listen to songs, songs, and more songs! I'll be off to Greenhills this Friday to have it open-lined. I'm crossing my fingers it won't be bastardized.

My Sweet, I can't thank you enough. I love you!

Sunday's Best!

This is a great Sunday! Minus Love (my cousin who already went home to Pangasinan), my homies are comfortably at home and the thought of having ourselves gather for breakfast is just fantastic. I went to hear the 7:30 AM Mass today. I left the house like a thief because I was careful not to wake my housemates who were still under their sheets. It’s Sunday anyway and I think everybody deserves to rest – even God rested on the seventh day! When I returned from Mass, Regie was already awake but still indecisive to get up. In a weary voice he asked where I went and I told him I heard Mass alone. He scoffed at my reply because it was unusually early and I would most likely tag him along to hear Mass with me. In my defense I said, I wanted to get back to sleep early too and I think he understood because he decided to sleep again. I did not sleep right away. I felt like emailing My Sweet first so I did. Then I heard my stomach growled. It would be bad to go to bed hungry, I thought. I decided I would cook breakfast first. My brother SMSed that he is on his way home already and I’m sure he could bear with my cooking because I know he would be hungry too from work. Omelet was my top choice for our breakfast menu, with onions and tomatoes. We have not had eggs for more than a week. Besides, I do not make bad eggs at all, just average output. In addition to steamed rice, it would not hurt to add another carbohydrate-inducing option, albeit an instant food favorite at home, Lucky Me Pancit Canton! These would count at 'satisfying' for empty stomachs. While cooking the omelet, my brother’s arrival signaled getup time. He has a special talent for distracting people at sleep, which he could not apply on me. The house was bouncing, and this has not been the case for so many weeks now when there were only two or three people at home. Today, everybody is at home. Today, everybody is up and alive. And with all honesty, it is a good and relieving sight for me. Just thank You, God. As soon as I finished cooking, we all gathered at the table for breakfast. I asked if there is a new DVD we could watch afterwards. Regie said only Christian’s [Bautista] music CD is new on the rack. Ate Melyn suddenly blurted a laugh and echoed ‘Christian! Christian!’ – at which point Peter and my brother jointly laughed too. Maybe I was still hazy or already feeling sleepy but I cannot miss the laughing trip so I asked what the matter is. Without really coercing them to share what they were laughing about, my brother volunteered to recount his most embarrassing elementary experience – pooping in his pants! Ate Melyn, Peter and my brother went to the same elementary school. My other brother, Christian, was Ate Melyn’s classmate. One school morning before their flag ceremony began, another student came running to my brother Christian and, lacking discretion, disclosed the news: “Christian! Christian! Amay agim, si Cleo, akatae!” Translated to English, “Christian! Christian! Your brother Cleo pooped in his pants!” Hahahaha. More hahahaha! My eldest brother must have felt nearly disowning our brother Cleo at that point. Even if it was against his will, my brother Christian brought our brother Cleo home with two umbrellas covering his behind. According to my brother Cleo, it was the longest walk he has ever done, with multiple stops in between to suppress nature’s call, but always unsuccessful. He left a trail along the way like Little Red Riding Hood, only those were not crumbs. Ewww! Then the table turned to me. My brother Cleo also recounted my embarrassing experience when I sat in a class for a week in their school because my school was on an earthquake-break then. Out of frustration to write the cursive of ‘R’ and neglected by a cousin who was sitting beside me to teach me how, I unnecessarily bawled when the teacher asked the class to submit the written exercise. I was not an official part of the class but being the go-getter that I know I am, I was really disappointed. My disappointment was expressed in my unstoppable weeping. My brother Cleo’s attention was called so he could bring me home. “Gala la ta unsempet ta la,” (Come now and let’s go home.) he said while tugging at me. I was crouching with my head between my knees trying to hide my face when I answered, “Agko gabay. Dakdakel ni sali.” (I don’t want to. There are still many feet around.) I was referring to the feet of the pupils of that elementary school. They gathered around me like spectators of a show – a show of my embarrassing behavior. They were laughing at me and waiting for my next step or another delivery of a punch line. My brother pulled me out of the school grounds and I no longer resisted. I knew then I could no longer save my face. I never came back the next morning. I was remembered as a crying baby in that school. We could not stop ourselves from laughing. It was a hearty breakfast with my cooking and funny elementary memories. Certainly this won’t be the last.

*****

We ate our late lunch at Mang Inasal where I had three (yes, 3!) cups of rice. Screw the diet now. Starvation is an immediate problem, plus my head is near explosion for thinking of what to get My Sweet for Christmas. Even my guy-homies were not really of a big help.

*****

The sweetest thing on earth for me – My Sweet Allan, just called. I missed his first call. I was doing the dishes and sharing good laughs over a documentary film on the television when he called. When I went up to my room to check on my phone, there was the missed call. It was just 6:00 PM, earlier than his usual call time. The funny thing is I was actually expecting his call at this hour. He has ESP! Allan’s been acting strange lately. He has been calling me every night (if that is a weird thing) since last week. I am actually loving the calls and it makes me upset whenever I miss his calls. But is it not costly for him to make the calls? I never have the nerve to ask. I only want to make the best out of our conversations. But I told him that I want to call him some times too, only I am not sure if he’s in the middle of something at work or what. So I never really tried calling him since he returned. The previous phone conversations have been sweeter each time and did I say strange too? He is talking about puzzle pieces that I have to put together, if you know what I mean. He would talk about his plans upon his return in May next year. He would give out ideas which apparently are clues to something. I am not so dumb not to get the picture but he scares me. In a good way, I guess. I only want him to come back to the Philippines safe and healthy and swine-flu-free. I miss My Sweet Allan. I love him so much that I wish tomorrow is already May.

The Wedding Singer

I have been singing at weddings from the tip of the Ilocos Region up to the tail of Southern Luzon since 1998. Boy, I have come this far. Maybe I should be considering it as a serious career by now. But, no thanks. I would say I have not reached the professional level yet, and most of the weddings I sing for were of relatives and friends -- people who could honestly appreciate and endure my voice for the sake of, well, kinship. The recent wedding I sang for was last November 30. It was a wedding of the daughter of my teacher-aunt's District Supervisor to a gentleman from Dagupan. I thought there was a convention of public teachers or so. They were dressed in their best olive green gowns, and much as I hate to say it, they put on their best shining, shimmering accessories which they only get to wear during these occasions. So okay, I would pass being the queer-eyed critique for the worst and best dressed teachers, oops, principals. I was late for the bridal march so Regie took the lead for "Angels Brought Me Here'. The couple were already at the altar when I arrived. I saw the bride wiping off her tears. That wasn't a first time scene for me. I mean, I have seen several brides weeping when we sing them songs especially if the song is the couple's lovesong. I have seen a couple cry too! Is that what they call the tears of joy? I have this funny feeling the brides might be thinking they're about to make a big mistake and they can't turn back. But hey, it must be really love. I was told once, 'You must get there to understand what it is.' Hmmm. Okay, okay. Speaking of getting there, I nearly choked on my food when I was cornered by my cousin while having lunch. She said, 'You're singing for a wedding again. Will you always remain the wedding singer? And who would sing for you when your wedding comes?' Answer: deadly silence with rolling eyes. Interpretation: I have no freaking idea. She's actually freaking me out whenever she puts me in the hot seat. She grinned. And that means she had me thinking like Plato.

*****

Phone beeped. An SMS. I checked the clock, 10 minutes past midnight. Am I dreaming? No. It was a message from Jhia. 'Tin pwede din yung Two Words ni Lea Salonga.' She was suggesting the song of Lea for her bridal march. And yes, like the suggestion cannot wait for tomorrow. I thought she might be expecting a reply so I hit her back with 'Mabagal ang transition ng words. I sing that song for the exchange of vows.' Then it was a peaceful night after my message was sent.

Jhia is getting married on May 2010, with Jaicus. He asked, she said yes. The proposal was made in Singapore with Jhia wearing sleeveless blouse and well, her usual self. But she did bring a dress to Singapore, only she was not expecting the proposal to be delivered soon before she could change costumes. Hahaha. But I love how the proposal went -- when Jhia least expected it. Because proposals are supposed to be surprising, aren't they? So Jhia, you had it.

Congratulations to you both! And yes, I will sing at your wedding.

Arbitrary

Simply by lack of purpose. Or maybe I know what my purpose is, only it is overshadowed by so many things running inside my head now. Don't judge me.

*****

On Tiger Woods' extramarital affairs.

I. just. could. not. believe. it.

I have this distinct admiration for Woods. He has the discipline. He has the determination. And now this. It was disturbing. And they're treating marriage like it's a business deal! Oh no. Whatever happened to his 'family values'?

This brings me back to my trust issues. Uh-oh. No matter how you think a man is full of his values, you can still never tell. Tsk. Tsk. Tsk.

*****

On my Christmas gift list.

It's December and I haven't started writing down what-to-buys-for-whos. Not in the mood for smart buying yet. SM's been displaying that 0% installment on credit cards for six months. But in times like this, I chant Luke 22:46 which says '...pray, lest you enter into temptation.' Amazing! I haven't been using my card since end of October.

*****

On Lovebug.

Ooooh! I'm loving this song! The acoustic flavor creates bubbles on top of my head. I don't need anyone popping them out now. :)

*****

Happy birthday Father Bok!

If You're Not the One

I'm posting the lyrics of 'If You're Not the One' by Daniel Bedingfield. But I like Nikki Gil's rendition more, coming from a female's point of view. This song makes me miss Allan all the more, and still stay in love with him.

IF YOU'RE NOT THE ONE If you’re not the one then why does my soul feel glad today? If you’re not the one then why does my hand fit yours this way? If you are not mine then why does your heart return my call? If you are not mine would I have the strength to stand at all

I never know what the future brings But I know you are here with me now We’ll make it through And I hope you are the one I share my life with

I don’t want to run away but I can’t take it, I don’t understand If I’m not made for you then why does my heart tell me that I am? Is there any way that I can stay in your arms?

If I don’t need you then why am I crying on my bed? If I don’t need you then why does your name resound in my head? If you’re not for me then why does this distance maim my life? If you’re not for me then why do I dream of me as your wife? I don’t know why you’re so far away But I know that this much is true We’ll make it through And I hope you are the one I share my life with And I wish that you could be the one I die with And I pray in you’re the one I build my home with I hope I love you all my life

I don’t want to run away but I can’t take it, I don’t understand If I’m not made for you then why does my heart tell me that I am Is there any way that I can stay in your arms? ‘Cause I miss you, body and soul so strong that it takes my breath away And I breathe you into my heart and pray for the strength to stand today ‘Cause I love you, whether it’s wrong or right And though I can’t be with you tonight And know my heart is by your side I don’t want to run away but I can’t take it, I don’t understand If I’m not made for you then why does my heart tell me that I am Is there any way that I can stay in your arms?

*****

And of course the video I made as my birthday gift for myself. Thank You, Lord. For everything. You always know what's best. :)

*****

Thanks to Ms. Ree for the couple-caricature I used here. I miss the Ria-Jason tandem. :(

My 27th on the 27th

SMS birthday greetings an hour after midnight (Jerico) an SMS two hours later from another (Mac) and still more SMS that welcomed my eyes in daylight (Mama and Sir Jacoba) 2 missed calls from an unknown caller (Allan) consecutive SMS from darling sissies from the ministry (Glenys, Tine and Liway) facebook greetings (too many of them) SMS greetings from my next employer next year (yeah!) another SMS from an unknown sender who i thanked anyway cousins thoughtful greetings coming in (there's just too many of them too) friendly greetings from luzon, visayas and mindanao (wow!) instant messages popping up (Edward, Ferdie, Eboy, Mabel and Junlee) german volunteer remembered my birthday (wow too!) former colleagues (RBAP & IIEE peeps) the anticipated call after office (finally) but i was wishing we could have talked more. frustrating. this is harder than i thought. Happy birthday to me, nonetheless. Thank you Lord! If these are everything that would happen today, it would still be a good day. I am blessed!

Missing Him

Just that. I miss him terribly, my Allan. :'( I could not say more than that.

So Close No Matter How Far

Yes, kami na. How did it happen? I don't know. I just heard him whisper in my ear "I love you and Im coming back for you." in the car and I just said "Thank you." The next thing, he was kissing the back of my hand and hugging me real tight saying, "Arrrghh, I dont wanna go." And I being the angel, keeps on saying, "No you have to go or you'll lose your job." That was Sunday night, while we were on our way home from his uncle's big house. I was not really able to absorb his ILY declaration because I know, minutes after, I will be facing a greater ordeal: introducing him to my father. Kaya di ba ang ganda ng sagot ko: Thank you? Hahahaha. Wala sa sarili. Then siguro nakahalata sya that I was not being myself, he asked "Is your dad home by this time?" I looked at him and answered, "Yes, I believe so." Tapos natahimik sya. "Is it alright if I meet him now? I will tell him why it took us this late." (By late he meant 6:00 pm. Heheheh). I said, "Ahh... maybe." Pero syempre, kahit wala ako sa sarili ko, wala na din naman ako nagawa kundi ang pababain sya and let him do the explaining. Nung inintroduce ko sya, my father was busy scanning the TV for some good watch. So humarap lang sa kanya ang Papa ko para iacknowledge ang presence nya then back to the TV ang eyes ng matanda! Ang suplado! Grabe. Kinakabahan ako, big time! Then he started explaining that there was a party sa house nila kaya na-late kami ng uwi (again, 6pm pa lang nun) pero di sya pinapansin ni Papa and Mama comes to the rescue saying "No, no, it's okay." I looked at my mum's expression and I think I could interpret this instead "You can still take her out until midnight if you like." Para akong binubugaw ng nanay ko. Hahahaha. And my father just scanned channels. Nung nagpapaalam na sya para tumuloy na, congrats ulit kay Allan dahil tinignan lang sya ng tatay ko at balik ulit sa TV ang atensyon. Suplado to the nth power! Hahahah. Then when he left, I heard my mum doing the explaining sa interrogation ng tatay ko. Di pa ako pumasok ng bahay until wala na akong naririnig na diskusyon. Nung pumasok ako sa bahay, deretso ako sa kwarto. At narinig ko ang tatay ko sabi, 'Hindi na ba yun kakain?' Di na ako kumain dahil alam kong masasalang ako sa hot seat. Pagkahiga ko sa kwarto ko, syang tawag ni Allan. Parang ilang minuto lang yun nung magkahiwalay kami. Bungad nya sa phone, "Are you alright? Did I get you into trouble with your father? Would you like me to come back?" Ano ba?! Andaming tanong. Sabi ko, "I'm okay. He's settled now. At least I got over the hard first stage of introducing you to him." Sabi nya, "Are you sure? I'm worried. I love you." Hmmm, medyo nakahinga na ako nang maluwag kaya walang alinlangan at pakundangan ko syang sinagot: "I love you back." He was saying some other things pero I did not really mind. Nasa isip ko lang nun after I told him I love him eh kami na. At kami na nga. Syang tunay! Makabawi man lang sa wala-sa-sarili kong sagot earlier na 'Thank you.' Ampangit di ba?! It was 630pm, 8th of November, when I put the phone down, still in a dreamy mood.

*****

He left me something to keep. He left me his late father's necklace with the St. Luke and St. Christopher pendants. His late father gave it to him before he died. Creepy noh? Mamaya bigla hilain ng tatay nya sa akin 'to!

At kung malinaw-linaw pa ang pag-iisip ko (because when he was saying these things eh nabablock ng kaba sa pagmemeet nila ng tatay ko yung mind ko), nasabi din nya that he will come back in May to properly talk to my father for some arrangements. I asked, 'What arrangement?' And he said, I wanted to propose to you properly. And I said, 'Ah.' (Don't you think Im just so smart with my answers?) And he smiled. Ayun muna sa ngayon. Seeing him leave makes me weak. :(

What Good Is A Typhoon?

Simply putting it as a typhoon would understate its effects. No, there were no strong winds that left houses roofless like Milenyo did. But Ondoy, oh Ondoy, your typhoon name sounds so cute but your wrath inundated roads, businesses, houses, and lives. You are terrible. There are many writeups in the Net about Ondoy and the evidence of its trail in Metro Manila. But what was I doing on a Saturday of heavy downpour? I had all my time to sleep that day. I stayed up most of Friday night until past 12:00 AM watching Dr. House and his team, enjoying their differential diagnosis each time. Saturday welcomed me with an enticing pouring of rains; I felt sinful but I had all the excuse to be a sloth. Enticing because I could curl on bed all day, what with the cold weather. But not for long. My brother woke me up to convince me to relay a message to our landlady. He complained of cockroaches crawling out of our bathroom's drainage hole, because the strainer was out of place. Cover it, I mentally suggested. But then he was persistent of ruining my lethargic mood so I did sent an SMS to our landlady anyway. I stayed on my bed though with my thoughts kicking already. Whoa, the sound of the rains could translate a rainbath into a hard back massage. I went down to pee and was welcomed with crawling creepy creatures and my brother's dancing-killing techniques. I only came to realize that by cockroaches he meant MANY cockroaches! Where did they all come from? I never managed to relieve my urine bag that morning. A little hour before lunch, I can hear Regie (one of my housemates) calling me downstairs. You see, I stay in my room most of the time. When I came down the second time, water is seeping through the doorsill that he has to use the dustpan to throw the liquid out of the house. I could hear one of our neighbors shouting, "Dalian mo, tumataas na yung tubig." Of course he meant the water was entering his house, and it was rising fast. Hmmm, I thought Regie could handle it anyway so I went back to my cave. In a matter of minutes I went down to ask him buy us lunch. He did, only to return soaked up to the hips and large raindrops marked his shirt. He changed clothes and we ate lunch. You see, we were spending a Saturday like everything was normal. Until I received text messages from friends asking how we are doing and if we are home. Why the sudden surge of concerned messages, I wondered. I switched on the television. It addressed my question. Marikina, San Mateo, Cainta -- three Philippine geographic terms that would consistently be written in the papers for the next days of the coming week. They all share something in common, along with other affected areas: devastated. I never knew how intense the typhoon was until I saw the scenes on the screen. They were depressing. And I have friends and relatives who live in those areas! I texted them but there was no reply. Come Sunday, the news would bear even sadder stories. My cousin was stranded at the airport. We could not get out of the house. We were watching news on the television the whole day to keep up with, well, the news. I could go on and on relating what happened during that weekend but I'm cutting this short to say what good things I learned. Filipinos are still Filipinos. They help each other. That's the bayanihan spirit. I myself was restless. What can I do to help? In my own way, I sorted my clothes, gave cash, and prayed. I chose to help those people close to me that needed my help. I have a really close college friend whose house was literally swept away with nothing left. I know there are still a lot out there in dire need of clothes, food, drinking water, medicines. These are immediate relief goods but any help they would receive during these times would echo a lifetime. I will be going now. Volunteerism is another thing. :) Mabuhay.

The Cost of Poor Customer Service

I must be really a magnet for experiences of poor customer service. Early this month alone, I have had encountered terrible treatment from cashiers of two different establishments. Pardon me having to expose the names but sometimes I wish I could have been that person who is bad with names. Knowing myself better than other people in this aspect, I commit to my memory names of people who have extremely affected me – in a good or bad way. This time around, I could still vividly picture the faces, along with their delicately pinned nametags, of those cashiers I encountered. But let me clear this though. I have no intentions to badmouth them. I only wanted to relate my awful experiences with them. Awful because they could have done better. And maybe my awful reaction (yes, I admit to be a horrible monster as a customer!) could have helped them in any way to improve their customer relations. If only my awful manner of confronting them has been taken constructively, it would be great. So do not gawk at me like I’m the bad guy. Hear out my side of the stories first. First Encounter: MINISTOP (Skyland Plaza, Buendia Branch) It was a really early morning and I felt my empty stomach calling for food. I thought, since I have had an unhealthy dinner the night before, I deserve a healthy breakfast that morning. Ministop is a haven! I always think of it that, until this incident. I grabbed myself a sachet of instant oatmeal and a stuffed bread called Twiggies. The damage was only worth PhP22.50. I took out my wallet and, unintentionally, I discovered I have only a PhP500 bill and several coins not even enough to count to PhP10. So I handed out the PhP500 bill only to be given a are-you-serious-about-paying-500-pesos-early this-morning look from the cashier. She quickly put into words what I interpreted saying, “Mam, wala po ba kayong barya?” I said, well-mannered, “Wala eh.” She replied, “Kabubukas lang po kasi ng kaha eh. Wala po ba talaga kayong barya? Kahit PhP22.50 lang po.” What was she thinking? I know I was supposed to pay PhP22.50! So I said, still aware that I should be courteous, “Wala talaga eh. Kung meron binigay ko na sana sa iyo.” And I meant that. Because in the first place, I do not want to waste my time waiting for my change when I could have used it checking my Facebook. Feeling helpless, she turned to her colleague to ask for assistance in obtaining loose bills of smaller denominations. I waited in front of the cash register but I gave way to the next customer so she could pay her purchases. Her items were punched and when the cash register opened, the cashier took her change rashly as if she loved to have me hear the discourtesy. The annoyance I have been disregarding came to a boil instantly. And as if her rudeness was not enough, she closed the machine with a bang that only the most insensitive of insensitives would not notice as a sign of disrespect. I glanced at her namepin, it read Arsil. I kept my peace but I was struggling. When her colleague came with the loose bills and she finally handed me my change, I interrupted her and said, “Ah, Arsil, the next time you encounter a customer with a large bill, you don’t give an excuse that you don’t have change for it, okay?” I was not done with my speech when she gave an unwanted answer, “Eh Mam talaga naman pong kabubukas lang po ng kaha eh.” But in rebuttal I answered back, this time with a pitch higher than my previous statement, “No, you listen to me. You are a 24-hour establishment.(Fact!) A convenient store with cash flows. (Fact!) And it’s not my problem if you have change or not. So you don’t give me the reason that you only opened your cash register this morning when you can ask for loose bills from your manager.” I was thinking I could have added, ‘You’re such a lazy ass to have my bills changed from your previous collections!’ but I chose not to. When I finished speaking, I felt the world (really) stopping and I could only see her and me exchanging uncalled-for words. It was only when she said “Sorry po Ma’am.” did I bring to an end the evil urge to rant some more. People were coming in to buy themselves something but I only realized that when I turned around to leave. They were all quiet. I started breathing normally again when I was outside Ministop. Ah! It will be a fine day. I never set foot on Ministop again after the incident no matter how much I crave for its sundae. (to be continued for Second Encounter)

Maybe Better, Maybe Worse

Let me borrow my title from one of Nicholas Sparks' predictable lines in one of his novels. If one would ask how I do this time, I would reply with such conviction that yeah, I maybe better or maybe worse. I just had an interesting conversation with a prospective client. Interesting for me, you bet. But maybe she found herself a box of boredom in me for her to say "Or maybe I should talk directly with your training directors, blah, blah." She was a challenging customer. She opened my eyes into seeing what a lame Marketing Officer I was. While she was incessantly stating her predicament about the quote I submitted, I was holding the phone half-thinking I still have a lot to learn. Maybe God was calling me out of my cave again. I did not see myself caught in an embarrassing situation because I wasn't prepared for a rebuttal. I felt gratitude that hey, I actually have this opportunity to deal with. I was hesitant to cut her litany short, and I did not anyway. It was an enlightening moment to hear out what she has to say. And I guess she appreciated what I did in the end despite my attempts to immediately address her concerns. I was just being honest. I was just being myself. I am not sure if a room for empathy is welcome in the corporate world, but that's just exactly what I did. Be reasonable. Be honest. Admit your mistakes. Flinch when necessary. Wow, am i being elevated one step higher to maturity? And responsibility? If my boss was around, I could have been underrated. Who cares. I may have been better now, or worse. The thing is, I learned. Thanks, Eya!

Tamang Timing, Tamang Kulit

May piging sa ECCP pero hindi kasali ang EITSC. Bakit? Eh sa wala kaming kontribusyon eh. Pagkatapos nilang magpakasawa sa mga pagkaing inihanda, ang tuso kong Boss Dom ay namasyal sa kabila at kunwang nang-usisa. Bakit nga daw ba may handaan at hindi kasama ang EITSC? Pagbalik nya ng opis, dala na nya ang kasagutan sa tanong nya. Tatlong dambuhalang turon at manigas-nigas na vanilla ice cream. Pagmumuni-muni: Hindi kinakailangan ng perang pangkontribusyon para makakain ka ng turon at vanilla ice cream. Kelangan lang ng right timing at kadalasan, tibay ng loob. (Bakit ba hindi ko maderetsong sabihin ang 'kapal ng mukha'? Hehehe.)

* * * * *

Lagpas-hapunan na, pero nasa opis pa rin kami nila Boss Dom at Gng. Ga. Habang inihahabol nilang matapos ang kani-kanilang mga report, ako nama'y pindot ng pindot ng spacebar-backspace para matunugan nilang may nasasalin akong report sa laptop kahit wala. Ang totoo nyan, tapos na yung report ko kaya malaya akong nakakapagbrowse ng Friendster at Facebook (pati Delias). Inaantay ko lang talaga na i-shutdown ni Boss Dom ang laptop nya na sasabayan ko ng hit ng Send button sa email para hindi nya masabing di ko inemail ang report ko sa kanya. Pagmumuni-muni: Muli, right timing. Kapag sinabing within the day ang report, isubmit mo within the day. Counted pa rin ang 11:59 PM hangga't di inispecify ang time.

*****

Tumingin ako sa may bintana para icheck ang lagay ng kalsada. *&^%$#@! Alas syete y media na ng gabi pero bumper-to-bumper pa rin ang trapik. Syang balita ko kay Gng. Ga. Tinanong nya ako kung sasakay ba ako ng bus o tren. Ang aking sagot: "Kapag bus, bumper-to-bumper ang trapik. Kapag tren, butt-to-butt ang siksikan. Malamang hanggang alas nuebe na lang muna ako sa opis." Pagmumuni-muni: Right timing nga di ba? Kung umalis ako ng alas singko, mapapaaga uwi ko. Anong oras na?! Hello???

*****

Tumawag si Gng. Ga sa kanyang kabiyak, si Kuya Edwin. Pagkasagot ni Kuya Edwin sa kabilang linya, syang tanong ni Gng. Ga: "Saan ka uuwi?" Sabay tawa sya. Dahil imbes na itanong kung anong oras ang uwi ni Kuya Edwin, iba ang nabigkas nya. Pagmumuni-muni: Kailangan ko pa bang ulitin? Right timing. Kapag gumagawa ka ng report at bigla mo naisip tumawag sa bahay, maniwala ka, iba ang masasabi mo. Ganyan ang epekto ng paggawa ng Hanns Seidel report. Nakakabuwang.

*****

Have a good weekend!

If He Isn't, Then Who Is?

Sounds really desperate.

But finally, yes, finally, Anna brought the DVD she promised to lend me a few weeks back. It maybe something really sappy but the title of the movie was plain irresistible and intriguing for someone LIKE ME. (Yeah, like there’s an unidentified, emerging –ism for the likes of me that sooner or later I will be spearheading.) Plus, I get to have a good chat with Bro. Paul this afternoon about my relationship status (which by the way is being joyfully single for now) that seemed to me more like a cross-examination, really. The title of the movie: He’s Just Not That Into You - based on the book by Greg Behrendt and Liz Tuccillo. (I can see some eyes rolling and mischievous whisperings that this is all too passé or inappropriate. Yeah, like I care!) Okay, so I would like to share some quotable (at least for me) lines from the movie which caught me offguard. Well, simply because I was not expecting those enlightening messages. Scene: Ben Affleck proposing marriage to Jen Aniston. More or less, this was the line. And please consider the pauses [I double-dashed to stress the point]. But actually, the line was the cherry on top of the ice cream. Ben was the ice cream. Hahaha. It was not a very creative proposal but I shed a tear.

"And I wanna make you happy. I need to make you happy for me that it even have a shot at me happy. Will -- you -- marry -- me?"

Narration [more or less again] on the last part which basically holds true. I would want to read these lines over and over to my girlfriends. Really, a wonderful guy is not necessary. But, in my personal point of view, I wish there’s one good partner for everybody. And me. Hehehehe.

"... If a guy punches you, he likes you. Never try to trim your own bangs. And someday you will meet a wonderful guy and your very own happy ending.

Every movie we see, every story we’re told, implores us to wait for it – the third acts twist, the unexpected declaration of love, the exception to the rule. But sometimes, we’re so focused on finding our happy ending we don’t learn how to read the signs: how to tell the ones who want us from the ones who don’t, the ones who'll stay from the ones who'll leave.

And maybe this happy ending does not include a wonderful guy. Maybe it’s you, on your own. Picking up the pieces and starting over. Freeing yourself up for something better in the future.

Maybe the happy ending is just moving on. Or maybe the happy ending is this: knowing that through all the unreturned phonecalls and broken hearts, through all the blunders and misread signals, through all the pains and embarrassment, you never ever gave up hope."

And oh! Here's a deadly line from Jen Aniston that would make guys zombie-still or rethink if they heard the girl right:

"Stop being nice to me unless you're going to marry me."

Cheers to my girlfriends!

Bleached!

Stupidity over simple things leaves a worse impact than you think. Especially when you had the same mistake once in the past. God, I never learned. Well, what I meant was, using bleach in laundry. I remember way back in high school, when owning a new pair of jeans signified a trendy statement and personally, a reward because of an achievement. My mom bought me this really classic corduroy khaki pants that got me really excited to wear and show. Coming from the mall, I went straight to wash it – the sooner it will be washed, the sooner I will get to wear it, I thought. Then it came to me, I should clean it thoroughly. I have this thinking that because it was handwashed does not mean it is already thoroughly clean. I thought somehow I have to disinfect it. And so the bleach’s role in the story. The bleach was supposed to be mixed with the basin of water but it accidentally dripped on the garment. Disaster! I have a new pair of corduroy khaki pants embellished with white-pink spots that looked like it was ready to meet the floor with water and polish. It met its ill fate to be a rag in an instant. And my face apparently needed some ironing more than my clothes because of what I did. Very stupid. Just this afternoon, I bought this really nice white dress embroidered with intricate black patterns of threads and beads! It was from the ukay-ukay, you bet! But really, it looked like it came straight from the shelves of Plains and Prints or Apple & Eve. The fabric is thick and its weave is similar to coffee bags. I love the total look when I tried it on – conservative yet cute. And because it came from the ukay-ukay, my OC tendencies struck again. I soaked the garment in water with powdered soap and yes, bleach! Bleach would get rid of itch-causing elements of the dress, I thought. I gave the soaking some convenient 15 minutes to get things done the way I wanted it to be. I took a quick shower first before I get to handwash the dress. But what an unfortunate idea! My precious purchase looked like it was inked all over with inconsistent curled patterns down from where the embroideries are up to the waistline. Black prints were there where they were not necessary! The dress looked really spoiled; evident of what a stupid washer I really am. I just threw my hard-earned PhP125 away. I cannot forgive myself. My brother’s girlfriend, who was envious I got hold of the dress first a while ago, was anxious about what I did. I was waiting for her to tell me how stupid I was, and yes, very generously, she told me so. My brother and even Jew came to the rescue, too. My brother gave it a shot at scrubbing one of the many unwanted black imprints but I’m afraid he would only tear the dress if I did not stop him. Jew handed me a bar of laundry soap and suggested I try vinegar too. Hmm, I may have demonstrated severe desperation there for a moment to deserve such attention washing just one piece.

Here are photos to show you my stupidity.

FRONT VIEW OF DRESS

BACK VIEW OF THE DRESS

TORSO (Closer Look)

THE INTRICATE EMBROIDER

THE BEADS (Heavy Ones!)

CAN YOU SPOT THE STAINS?

Down-trodden and feeling really irresponsible, I climbed upstairs to my room for adjudication. I pleaded guilty of stupidity alright, and to uplift my soul, I sentenced myself to watch DVD. I just watched The Other Boleyn Girl. I felt glorious afterwards. I was not the most stupid, after all. Hehehe. But still, I would be a lousy laundry washer. I would drive customers crazy if I were employed in a laundry business. Poor me.

BEDnesday!

What's with me? I'm becoming a rebel, which I seem to be enjoying. I'm blogging again at the expense of my office hours. One thing: it's easier blogging than painstakingly proofreading the *&^%$#@! modules which, according to my boss, need an overhaul. I demand a separate pay for this! Peace, boss!

Like the surging rain, my spirits are on high -- for blogging. And the rain, oh the rain! It makes me sing Skidamarink a dink a dink, Skidamarink a doo, I love you. Skidamarink a dink a dink, Skidamarink a doo, I love you. I love you in the morning and in the afternoon, I love you in the evening and underneath the moon; Oh, Skidamarink a dink a dink, Skidamarink a doo, I love you!

I stopped singing when the rain got even nastier, maybe protesting. I could see the strong winds carrying the rain away forming ghostly images rapidly chasing each other. The strong winds forcefully push flat the raindrops on my window. There's zero visibility from the 19th Floor even with my eyeglasses on.

Huhummm, I am being elevated to a dreamy state with these scenes. I love this equation: rain + bed + new book = perfect relaxation. But now, I could suit myself to blogging first. Maybe later, I would buy myself a new book. This one. It might give me a hint on what really is wrong with me. :)

Pledges

I'm wearing a cute pink glittery bow today. It matches my pink-spotted cheeks which I pinched thoughtlessly infront of the mirror until I felt they were close to burning if I did not stop. Just kidding. The bow matches the shade of my lipgloss too! I love my total look today -- fresh and ready to face the world! Apparently, I hope this is just the beginning of putting into action my pledge of reinventing myself and starting anew. I think I'm ready to face the battle against quarterlife crisis (whatever that is). I have not laid my cards yet nor thought of a game plan but feeling good about myself is definitely one critical step I should take. Way to go, Tin! (I'm talking to myself again. Beware. Hehehe.)

*****

Last night, I was repeatedly playing the song "Pananatili" on my laptop. Mac instructed me to study the song well for Allan Punay's wedding on June 28th. Like a student to her teacher, I obliged. I was intently listening to the song when suddenly it dawned on me, "Hey, the message of the song sounds like the Song of Ruth! Only it was Tagalized." And so early this morning, I googled for "Pananatili" and confirmed my realization. "Pananatili" is a beautiful song, not to disregard the music-video, which I posted here, that gave the lyrics justice.

"Pananatili", in the best way I could translate it, means staying or dwelling in English. It is yet another pledge of love -- of staying where the loved one stays, going where he/she goes, dying where he/she dies. The sweetest pledge of love I ever heard. It sounded highly emotional in Tagalog. As the Scripture says (in English):

Ruth 1:16-17 (King James Version)

16And Ruth said, Intreat me not to leave thee, or to return from following after thee: for whither thou goest, I will go; and where thou lodgest, I will lodge: thy people shall be my people, and thy God my God:

17Where thou diest, will I die, and there will I be buried: the LORD do so to me, and more also, if ought but death part thee and me.

It touches my very core that I cannot help crying. I should not do this during the wedding!

*****

There were several times in the past when I was handed a World Vision brochure in different occasions. I was actually very eager to get involved but it came to pass and I never really grabbed the chance. Until a cousin approached me asking for assistance for the education of our niece for college. I must have been very insensitive not to notice that a relative is in need of financial aid. Why am I searching too far? There is nothing wrong with that, I suppose. But charity starts at home. So, point-blank, I pledged my support. It's the least I can do. But still, it's my niece's dream of a brighter future that's at stake here. I'm proud to say, I adopted a scholar this schoolyear, and I'm happy to do so. Carry on!

I'm all too excited to buy supplies for my nephew who is starting his first encounter of school at the Day Care Center. He has been deprived of parental love at such a young age so I guess it would not hurt much if we introduce him to the wonderful and definitely valuable world of studying! Studying means a lot to me. It's high time I impart that same values to the my younger loved ones. :)

*****

Consider this forwarded SMS by Thew one gloomy morning:

"For years I kept a sign in my room that helped me maintain the right perspective concerning yesterday. It simply said... "Yesterday Ended Last Night." It reminded me that no matter how badly I might have failed in the past, it's done and today is a new day to make things better."

And my pledge? I'm going to be a better person each day.

So help me God.

Recharge-able

Borrowing from Rev. Fr. Marco's message of thanks last Saturday afternoon, I am one with him in the belief that home is where you regain your energy. Whenever you feel the necessity to recharge, home is the best place to do just that. Very true.

This was the very same reason why I asked for a half-day off from work last Friday so I could come home early and hopefully catch up with the rehearsal for the responsorial psalm. Sadly, it did not pursue. But the pep talks and sharings were definitely worth wasting the time. And the rain! So much so it added relief to my burdened soul (What I was feeling was heavier than you can read it here. I could not explain why.) and drama to reinventing friendship and discovering new ones that night. It was also a bonus for me that I arrived just in time to see Jun Pyo on screen. Eeek, I giggle at the sight of him. It is that teenage sensation that brings out the glow on my face lately somehow. Boo. He is just plain gorgeous.

*****

When you sing your heart out, you pour out your feelings into what you sing so that your voice and the song will be delivered well. Just my thought. It has worked for me so many times. And several times, I ended up teary eyed too. That is because singing is one of the few ways I vent the bad feelings that are choking me. Really. And because sometimes, when you can't find the right words to express how you feel, songs were intentionally made to express them more than you can. Weird but often true. I hope Fr. Ed would understand now why I only responded in silence when he remarked "Feel na feel mo yung song ha!" I was feeling tensed at first but enough coaching from that seminarian who sang with me was all it took to diffuse everything inside me. He was very supportive and appreciative. Typical seminarian. Mabolatis.

Singing for me is synonymous to clearing the dark clouds ahead of me. It puts me back to perspective somehow. Try singing soulfully. It does not matter if you are out of tune. It's the heart that counts.

*****

Did you say swimming? Count me in!

I'm no good swimmer but I like drifting and frolicking in the water. And wow, the good conversations with friends while immersed in the pool. Nothing beats that. I left my tears in the pool, unbeknownst to them.

I would just like to say my thanks to those who took time to join me in the supposedly 'unplanned' overnight swimming after the Thanksgiving Mass of Fr. Marco -- Liway, Godo, Te Vilma, Te Dhang, Kuya Ernie, Mac, Regie, Janice, Larry, Jermine, Khayi, Joepearl, and Fr. Bot. Let's go to Baguio next time! Yeah!

*****

What is so wrong with Marlbert?! I did not commit to come to the house warming slash birthday celebration of his relative yesterday. He was merely insisting we should come. I don't remember having business with him not even with the birthday celebrant. And he would tell me they are expecting us. With the likes of Marlbert, there's no need to clarify. Yet unlike him, if I could refuse an invitation, I'd say there and then I could not make it. Better than saying I would come and then won't. Unlike Marlbert, I'm not the no-show type. (Yes, Marlbert, allow me this opportunity to grill you in my own page.) Underpromise, overdeliver. It was just surprising how people treated us when we arrived. Sure, they welcomed us warmly, I have nothing against that. Really, they were nice people! Overly warm and nice, in fact. But I have this impression that I underestimated what Marlbert must have said prior to our arrival. I have this funny, weird feeling that made me really uncomfortable at first especially whenever a person not present was being mentioned. Bad habit.

But hey! I enjoyed the bibingka! I super loved it! And did I say I enjoyed watching and talking to those nice people in there too? But I'm missing A___.

I'm not done with you yet, Marlbert. :)

(Note: I am posting this entry during working hours. I am so tired proofreading! I'm going back to work. I've recharged.)

Mind-Bogglers For Today

It was an ordinary morning for me, traversing the usual roads going to the office when suddenly, Ting! I was chanting these lines from a song: "I'm a big, big girl in a big, big world. It's not a big, big thing if you leave me. But I do feel that I will miss you much, miss you much. -- Emilia" And suddenly I stopped short, wait, EMILIA? Whoa! What is going on inside my mind? What must have it been sorting out without me knowing it? The lyrics of the song is meaningful, in the same way that the acronym of E.M.I.L.Y for me is quite uniquely meaningful. Yeah. Ask Mav. But why, oh why, did it come to me again?! These things -- mysteries.

****

At work. At first I was having fun proofreading the 9 modules assigned to me. I was confident it would be just a breeze considering how these modules pass through the hands of one of our training consultants. But then again, when I saw the inconsistencies, the incoherence, the S-V disagreements -- I want to apparate! Can somebody fix this as an example for me:

"The blue connector at the end is where the monitor connects to the video card, and the gold contacts on the right are where the video card plugs into the computer's bus."

*****

Welcome to the club! So easy to say such a thing when you encounter a heartbroken person. But the tears, ah! It's a different story altogether. I hate to see my friend's face smudged with sorrowful tears. Especially when just days ago they were happily enjoying the beach, the 'fun and togetherness' (thanks Anna!). And after seriously considering how things were in the past, the verdict was cast: Let's call it off. Guys with all balls and no bats! How could he? What else could he possibly ask for when his GF (now ex) is the most loyal and loving (next to me) GF I could imagine?

I cannot afford to name names first. I have to wait for my friend for her official broadcast. No clues whatsoever. I have enough of mind-boggling matters today, my dear readers. Find this out for yourself. Katrina Halili is out of here.

*****

My friend will be ordained as priest this Saturday along with two others. Hooray! And he called me up yesterday to back his psalmist up in a duet. Anything for you. Oh wait, not without any favor in return! Supposedly, just supposedly, I get married anytime next year, he has to be there to preside or co-preside somehow. Right, right. Nice deal. Let me revise that a bit. No expirations please.

*****

I was given this remark today by a pseudo-colleague: "You're too cute to be ignored. Only fools ignore you (or blind)." I responded: "That's given." However, I was struck at how friends would give such remarks sincerely. Are they really?

*****

Rev. Marco, I would like to personally thank you for the food (hahaha) that you unselfishly committed to give us for our not-so-planned swimming this Saturday night. God bless you a hundredfolds! Note: There's still time to back out. I am so a devil's advocate. >:)

*****

It's the death anniversary of Richard Valiant Correa tomorrow. :( I miss the boy. I miss you pal.

Quarter-Life Crisis Creeps On

Whatever you are, you make me feel really anxious! I am on my way to something but I am not certain towards what. I feel so lost -- career, relationship, finances, happiness, self-worth. Most people would tell me to do the things I am happy doing. But how could I when I am not really sure what makes me happy? Or if the things that made me happy then would make me happy 2 or 3 years from now? I'm very much afraid of the future. I have been feeling this way a few weeks back, and it's taking much longer to leave. No matter how much I try not to dwell in it, no matter how much I believe I am over it, it's just somewhere inside me -- buried but apparently always ready to resurface. I have been praying a lot lately. My asking for assistance may have put me to sleep soundly for most nights but when I wake up struggling with myself whether to go to work or not, this culprit makes me groping for strength to face the day. And it is becoming a habit, a scary habit. I fear the future. I fear my life now. If it's bad to wish that I sleep tonight and never again wake up after so-so hours, I'm sorry. But I guess I just did. God, please bless me.

April's My Mosts

For several times I would push myself to post an entry here in my blog. And in the same frequency, I would cite many silly reasons not to write, not to bother. Apparently, it's the strangest thing about me. Me? Not blogging? It has been nearly a month since my last post and I'm single! (Meaning, blogging for me is as significant as having a boyfriend. And, as in the property of displacement, I cannot do both at the same time and with equal passion. Hahaha.) Until now. In the span of time that this blog did not don yet another entry, so many things have happened to me. So many, I lost count and the eagerness to name them all. With options of which my 'most memorable' ones are, here's to give you an idea on what:

1. Most mournful - Lu's death last April 21. However we anticipate that her passing would come, I personally did not expect it would come so soon. Not when I have not bought myself the last book of the Twilight Saga and let her read it to kill her time while waiting for 'the call'. I so miss her. I have been trying to upload the video tribute we made for her but to no avail. The size is just too big I have to chop it to two parts. But the project just gives me the heavy heart and unstoppable tears each time I attempt to do it. 2. Most tiresome - Lipat-bahay. No Gatorade or Alaxan FR (spare me the brabalibintawan chantings, please) would relieve me of the muscle pains. We (just me and another flatmate) started transferring our things (by 'our' I mean there are 7 people owning those things) at 8 AM. I was down at 3 PM, crawling toward the bed with knees shaking and muscles so sore. I now believe that even Superman rests every 30 minutes up, up and away. So why didn't I think of that? And then all I needed was a really long, sound sleep to return to being 'human.' 3. Most productive - Two-trainings at a time. Huh, well, not really very impressive but it's a milestone (for Flintstone's era -- just playing). Kudos EITSC! 4. Most miserable - Do you get that feeling when you want to do something for someone really special and you have no means to because well, the universe does not want to cooperate?! Argh! Terrible. It was like your insides are being squeezed tight and you feel helpless. And in my most sane self I would utter, 'The best is yet to come.' But another voice would want to shout, 'Yeah right!'

April Black Movement

Ms. Ga calls it the A40D. I say big girls don't cry. Lala says she agrees with me. Today is April 1. Aside from the fact that this day is common for some fooling around, I fool myself into believing that this got to be celebrated. And I got companions to do just that. Foolish companions too but heck, they are just being supportive. We are celebrating a 40-day thing that we thought would mark something significant (or insignificant) in my life. We just thought so. Mourning is not appropriate for our 40-day thing. I just miss someone. I mean, I miss chatting with someone. That was why this 40-day celebration. Thank you Ms. Ga and Lala for the support. I hope to someday chat with 'him' soon.

Sadness Galore

What's with today? I thought I'd be doomed. This is how it feels to be 'bagsakan ng langit'. But dear God, if these are the worst things that would happen to me today, it would still be a good day after all.

*****

Laptop disaster early in the morning!

I had this strong feeling it would happen to me because I was doing irregular downloads yesterday. Install here, delete there. Enter, enter, enter. Come this morning, my screen greeted me with: "Windows could not start because the following file is missing or corrupt:" For crying out loud! My mind's instinctive reaction was: "Ang files ko!!!!!!!!!"

Like saving a lifeless drowned victim, I was pressing the power on and off -- hopeful to see a message that reads something like: "Joke lang!" But dreaming big early in the morning is not a very good indication of a character fit to be called a 'normal employee.' So thank God the black screen and the message prompt was consistent. And so is my heart breaking and panicking. My eyes are on a warning: tear ducts are about to explode.

I called the supplier. I was having second thoughts while talking to him. He said he'd come and visit the office to check the unit himself. Is he bringing bad shoes or bad news? I was always right with the 'bad', I guess. My laptop needs reformatting. Huh?! But what about my files? He prompted me with a dreadful question that can hardly go through my mind: "Do you do back-ups?" Doomed.

But hey, I'm not just the type who surrenders. Especially when I know people. Hahaha. Yeah, my ex including. Sad fact: I just could not drag my IT-loved-ones to the office and fix my laptop. I have to be resourceful. As soon as this technical guy left, I called our Online Department for support. Jex was accommodating, but I understand he has deadlines too. So I let him explain a few things for me and I helped myself with a little research. My last resort was to consult my ex-beau which I dreaded doing myself. I asked too many favors from him already. He's been very helpful even after the break-up. Fine. I did not call him.

So to verify that my actions are technically legal in the IT-scape, I tried my luck again to call the supplier. I must have charmed the person from the other line. What can I do but be pleasant as I always am? Hahaha. It was another technical support guy. I could not stop him from volunteering to visit the office to check on the unit personally. It must really be my voice this time. So in a matter of 8 minutes, he was at the office. Maybe he did some abracadabra or hocus pocus or bari-bari-bari. Whatever that is that he did, he brought my laptop to life! For free! No service charge even if my unit is already not under warranty. If only my power hug is for free, but no. How about water for an angel who flew from up the scorching sun? He just smiled.

Ramil is the name of that angel, by the way. Someday, somehow, I'll find my way to bump into you and help you too. Thank you! Thank you!

And may I say Rannie was an angel too? In more than ways than one. Thanks Rann!

*****

And like sadness is never contented, it gave me another reason to lumber. I received an SMS from Mac saying Nicklas (aka Nicki) is flying home to Germany ASAP. I have to hear it from the boy. I asked how he has been and he bluntly said without me asking "I'm going home on Thursday." Maybe my eyes are playing tricks on me that I did not read the message right, I have to ask him again. He said, 'Yes, I'm going home on Thursday." But why? He replied, "I just didn't feel needed here." I did not know what to say the next moment or so that I felt the urge to call him.

I need not elaborate how our phone conversation went. But one thing is sure, I feel even sadder. Although he assured me he would be emailing and Skype-ing me (it's tested, he is a man of his words), it did not make me less sad. As if to add pressure so he won't leave, I told him I will not return his Life of Brian DVD. But he didn't budge. Silly me. He is a decisive kid. Or has he grown to be a man already? Hahaha. I am so going to miss Nicki. I wish chocolates would not melt. That way I could have made him promise he would send me boxes and boxes and boxes of them. Only he said it is not possible. Or if it is, those brown goodies would be like water. Nice thinking. But I still feel sad. He could only say he is sorry and ashamed. :(

*****

Four of my participants for my April training just backed out due to an 'emergency'. I'm so used to it. Give me drama because that was not really funny! Argh!

My OLLYM Friendship

This dates back to my past, And still clings to my present. A bond that’s so steadfast To put simply, adherent. I’ve been gone for a long while Crying and wretched upon my return. Even then you embraced me with a smile I knew that never again I’d go forlorn. Kind words warming my senses, Concerned pats easing the pain, Hugs forgiving my offenses, Certain hopes drifting again. You set me free to wander, Never doubting, never greedy. And when a storm would hover, You’d drag a shelter for me. For seeing me through those times Of heartbreak or defeat You kept me still so I could stand Steady on both feet. When picking up the pieces Seemed difficult to bear The anxiety never ceases Until I saw you there. Clueless I am now how to say My sincerest thanks to you For the help, the love that came my way My heart just says 'I love you, too.'

This video is a tribute to all my friends from the Our Lady of Lourdes Youth Ministry (its members and auxiliary ones, hehehe). Thank you all guys for being there when, well, I was lost.

I would not wait for my death to let you know how much you mean to me. *wink* Just bear with the music though. Boc was making me cry that time and I could not help it. My voice was, hmmm, frog-throaty. :D

I Cry At The Drop Of A Hat

Catchy, isn’t it? It’s an expression I read from one of my weekend readings. Similar to the Filipinos’ way of saying ‘mababaw ang luha.’ As to the reason why the title, I simply have no reason to explain myself. I have not even the smallest intention to scare steel-hearted guys away who would roll their eyes at the sight of women’s tears. &$$4073$! It takes nothing to make me cry. As Sir Dom would put it, ‘Iyakin ka pala.’ I pictured him having second thoughts of hiring me after catching sight of my tear-drenched face when he handed me the Spongebob Squarepants stuffed toy as a present. Lala would only consider that as my weakness – crying. Tell you what though, I do not cry because I’m a loser. I do not cry to satisfy offenders. I pray for their souls. Hahaha. Rather, I cry at the slightest deed of kindness done unto me. Sweet-nothings would put me at the verge of spilling my tear ducts. Let’s not underrate what DSS could do to me. Dramatic songs and scenes, that is. So what brought me here, lest I forget? These: 1. Ingli’s (Ingrid Tan was a college classmate) surprise SMS that read:

“Remarkable classmates: ‘D ako nakapagreview’ – Pero ang dami sinusulat sa test paper. ‘Ang dali ng test’ – Pero sya ang lowest. Patingin-tingin sa bintana hoping makakita ng lumilipad na sagot. Ginawang notebook ang hita. Nagpuyat para makagawa ng kodigo pero di din nagamit. Sinisipa ang chair ng classmate sa harapan. D magrereview sa gabi, mag-aalarm ng madaling-araw, gigising para patayin ang alarm clock. Group study daw pero nag-iinuman lang. D mo daw na-enjoy ang pag-aaral kung di ka makarelate dito. …korek! Hehehe I miss you charing!”

I have this feeling she was referring to me as the first one. I miss you too, Ingli. Don’t make me cry like this again, please? 2. Armando Solis' playful antics at Betty (la fea). Ate Romeelyn must have noticed I'm missing someone. I was looking up to prevent the tears from falling. Who am I kidding? She threatened me she would text my ex if I did not stop bringing him up. Why does she have my ex's number in her phone? Very inexplicable. Hahaha. 3. Rannie, JM, Ms. Jane and Tito Bel telling me I'm a sweet girl. Really? I did not know that. Again, I do not have to explain myself. But thanks guys for bothering to notice. That's, uh, sweet. Where is my hankie?

They Grew Old But Not Their Love

What one thing have you first-handily witnessed during your living years that was true and lasting and never ceasing? I have one – my grandparents’ love for each other. This entry was inspired by the episode of Maalala Mo Kaya last Saturday about an old couple growing old together. I thought I could not miss relating too the true love I have seen in the company of my grandparents, my father’s parents, to be specific. (My mother’s parents have the same streak; only they were not as showy as my father’s parents were.) I basically grew up in the loving care of my grandparents when I was young. What with my working mother trying to get our expenses meet and my father toiling with the heat of Saudi Arabia. It was private school since Nursery for me back in the province and my classes were always later than my brothers’. Everyday of the school week, my mother would drop me at my grandparents’ house with my usual straight-from-the-bed form requiring serious conditioning before coming to school. I had always the pleasure of being the first to eat my grandmother’s home-cooked lunch alongside Daddy (+), my grandfather. And always, Mamang, my grandmother, would see to it that everything is in place before we eat altogether – the three of us. She would put rice on my Daddy’s plate primarily and automatically, before she’d turn to me to fill mine. We never ran out of things to discuss over those meals. I could still recount how Daddy would jokingly relate to me the ‘adventure’ of eloping with Mamang. If not because of the robust smell of burnt rice filling the kitchen, my great grandparents would not discover Mamang was missing. Thereupon started the great love story of my grandparents that endured and proof to the ‘till death do us part’ thing. These two significant people showed me true love in more than one way – not only for each other but also their true love for me. Let me give you a brief about them. Daddy, bless his soul, was every inch the craftsman – carpenter, driver, fisherman, MacGyver. More than that, he was the best grandfather (equally the best with my other grandfather)! He was my Bible storyteller – I heard the likes of David & Goliath, Joseph and his brothers, the birth of Jesus Christ, etc. from him first. The books he gave me were like some precious stones to me. He was my backup, my kakampi. He was my number one fan. He was my father figure when Papa was away. He built my confidence. He adored my tiny feet and thin legs. With that he called me ‘tingaw’ because I was really small then. He fetched me from school when none of my uncles were available to do just that. He would fairly listen to me when I tell him how my day went. He cut that part of the newspaper that bore my name when I passed the DOST scholarship exam. He highlighted my name. Did I tell you he was my number one fan? He would remind me not to get a cop or a military man for a boyfriend. And he said, if I could avoid it, not even a seaman. I have always been keeping his memories in my heart. And although he already passed away, I have always known he is never busy looking after me and interceding for my prayers. Daddy, you are sorely missed. Mamang seriously portrays the role of taking charge of the house chores. She is a superwoman! She knows the nooks and cranny of the house more than the house mouse. She cooks good food. It’s no wonder where my uncles and aunts get their waistlines that they do not really bother measuring. Mamang has her ways of showing me her loving-kindness. She would put extra do’s in our before-school routine. A classic example is the demonstration of wearing the socks. She taught me how to do that – that cute bows attached to my pair of socks should stand out so they have to be displayed on the outer part of my legs (I just don’t know how to put it. Mamang could explain better.). She would tell me that over and over until I thought I had mastery doing it, even with a blindfold. If Daddy would require me to have siesta every afternoon so that I could outgrow my ‘tingaw’ monicker, Mamang would simply make the task easy for me by her pats-to-sleep method. Even before Papa’s song cartridges from Saudi Arabia stirred my interest to music, Mamang has already taught me to sing ‘Ako Ay May Lobo’, a piece that always splendidly drew an audience as I delivered. Mamang, like Daddy, never failed to express her admiration to whatever I accomplish – then and now. And just as Daddy has advised, she would reiterate whenever I would come to visit her, never to get a cop clod or a military twit for a partner. I just have this feeling God would not allow me to. ;) Looking back, there were times when I saw them at the brink of arguing and Daddy would bark, ‘Nengneng mo tan ya akulaw,’ referring to Mamang still with that tinge of endearment and patience. Mamang knows better when to inject silence at those times. When Daddy died, I saw grief in Mamang’s eyes that I never saw before. She was differently silent. Mourning to an extent, wishful thinking to another. She verbalized my theory when she said, ‘Daddy, alam ak la!’ That made me cry. It gave me shivers thinking their love could surpass death too. I love them both.

When Getting To Sleep Becomes Dramatic

Nothing really new. It's just one of those times when I would usually lull myself to sleep with a new downloaded song playing from my phone in the repeat mode. So many times I have been doing this, yet again, there are so many songs I love to sing with each time until I thought I was born with the lyrics imprinted on my head. And now this particular old song which was sung by Teatro Rizalia caught my attention while waiting for the inauguration of our new EITSC computer laboratory at RTU to start. Smoke Gets In Your Eyes by The Platters. I googled for the lyrics and I want to share it with you. Less the drama, it would not be a song most of us would appreciate. If you have loved before, then this one's for you. Listen to it and keep yourself from crying. I failed. Enjoy the song and the story!

Smoke Gets In Your Eyes (The Platters, Frank Sinatra)

They asked me how I knew

My true love was true

I of course replied"Something here inside

Cannot be denied"

They said someday you'll find

All who love are blind

When your heart's on fire

You don't realise

Smoke gets in your eyes

So I chaffed and I gaily laughed

To think they would doubt my love

Yet today, my love has flown away

I am without my love

Now laughing friends deride

Tears I cannot hide

So I smile and say"When a lovely flame dies,

Smoke gets in your eyes."

The Slum Movie That Made A Slam

Finally, after a body-numbing day of doing some house chores, I managed to fix myself for a movie-on-the-bed therapy. Past the unholy midnight hour and I was still up to see this movie that created so much fuss. If there would be things I would write about Slumdog Millionaire, I would not confine it to the obvious ones which are, needless to say, its commendations and the international noise it created. Rather, I would write something about this film that touched the core of me, something more personal. I found a CD copy (of course ‘copy’ is the keyword) on top of my TV last night from who-knows who. There it was, with a reckless label of the title in blue ink but still legibly interesting: SLUMDOG MILLIONAIRE. As earlier said, here are the things that ran inside my head while watching it (which I have to recap after watching): 1. Parallelism of Manila and Bombay on so many things. Of course, there’s the slums (where the term ‘slumdog’ with the likes of Jamal and Salim was coined). Clair Danes knows better how to describe the kind which we have here in Manila. Syndicated begging is nothing new. I let go of a chuckle for the recruitment process the three kids have to undergo – bribed with cold Coke (I presumed) under the piercing heat of the sun. Beggar-kids need our help. :( Call centers! In the IT/BPO industry, Philippines is actually competing with India in providing the supply. And yeah, Indians can speak English too! TV game shows have been part of the Filipinos’ daily lives. These shows somehow provide people a tunnel for escape. These shows mean hope. But I still think these shows form what I call advertised gambling packaged like decent ones. 2. Motherhood and brotherhood. There’s the mother. Funny how the two boys took on the chase with the police officers with mocking ease while dreading the disciplining hands of their mother. This is the same mother who warned her kids and drove them away when there was a (unidentified) mob attack during which she was also hit and died. Salim was his brother's keeper: from the time they lost their mother up to that point when Jamal 'phoned a friend'. 3. True love waits and wins. Jamal delivering these lines is fine proof:

"Come away with me..." (I thought I heard that from Norah Jones.) "I'll wait... I love you." (He did wait for Latika at the train station!) "I joined the show because I knew you'd be watching." (That's being resourceful.)

There's this part of the movie when Jamal kissed the scar on Latika's cheek. Definitely one of my 'aawwww' moments while tears were flowing down my cheeks. I can imagine Nicki saying "Women!" with rolling eyes. It was very symbollic. He kissed her flaws. Don't you think that was really sweet? 4. God is great. Nothing is clearer than that in the movie.

Sad vs. Happy

Who would like to be singled out and choose 'sad' as an option between being happy and being sad? Amabel. Most people would, of course, want to be happy. That's the ultimate cause/purpose (Philosophy lessons, processing... failed.) of man's life -- to be H-A-P-P-Y. But Mabel's YM status is alarming: three sad faces. That's overly dramatic. So I asked why. She named three various reasons (that's why the 3 sad faces), to quote:

"Sad na hindi na ako matutuloy sa batanes sa march, sad kasi di ko pa palal marereimburse ung plane fare ko sa company kahit na irerefund naman ako ng asian spirit... akala ko lang e magkakapera pa ako... sad kasi madaming work pero may glitch ung Internet provider namin so di ka makapagtrabaho ng maayos..."

I smiled. She really has various reasons to be sad, but i said in rebuttal:

"I'm sick but not sad. I'm happy because I'm feeling better now. I'm happy because I'm able to chat with you. I'm happy because even if my bills are on its way, I still have extra money to buy myself bananas."

The next exchange of YM messages was like music to my ears, okay, lyrics to my eyes na lang. She was starting to laugh. And even before I explain to her the message of the reasons why I'm happy, she realized it. She tried to think of reasons why she's supposed to be happy and not sad. And she came up with these:

"I'm happy coz you're well and in the office right now to care what I feel. I'm happy coz you're trying to make me feel better. At natuwa ako that you can still buy bananas."

So there. I'm overly happy to make someone feel better today more than I feel better myself.

*****

Find reasons to be happy. =)

I thought of Myanmar's political detainees and tell myself I'm more fortunate being able to sit on my chair comfortably after a good lunch and still blog and check Facebook (and Friendster). Luxury at work.

And now I get back to real business.