On A Wing and a Prayer

Divine intervention

2007-03-20T14:36:00.000+08:00

Love's Divine

Then the rainstorm came
Over me
And I felt my spirit break

I had lost all of my belief, you see
And realized my mistake
But time threw a prayer
To me
And all around me became still

I need love
Love's divine
Please forgive me now I see that I've been blind
Give me love, love is what I need to help me know my name

Through the rainstorm came sanctuary
And I felt my spirit fly

I had found all of my reality
I realize what it takes

'Cause I need love, love's divine
Please forgive me now I see that I've been blind
Give me love, love is what I need to help me know my name

Oh I, don't bend (don't bend), don't break (don't break)
Show me how to live and promise me you won't forsake
'Cause love can help me know my name

Well I try to say there's nothing wrong
But inside I felt me lying all along
But the message here was plain to see
Believe me

'Cause I need love
Love's divine
Please forgive me now I see that I've been blind
Give me love, love is what I need to help me know my name

Oh I, don't bend, don't break
Show me how to live and promise me You won't forsake
'Cause love can help me know my name

Love can help me know my name.

Now more than ever. AMEN.

And so 2006 came to pass

2007-01-10T11:33:00.000+08:00

What did you do in 2006 that you'd never done before?
It has to be my decision to live in the USA.

I have to admit that I really didn't think so hard about this move. The opportunity presented itself, I grabbed it, and, with a little luck, I found myself on my way to the Land of Milk and Honey. (Looking back, I didn't even consider what was left of a flagging relationship...or was there a real relationship to begin with?)

I have worked in a foreign country before, but it was only in Singapore, a mere three-hour flight from the Philippines. and I lived with my sister and her family, meaning, I still had a semblance of family.

Out here, man, is a totally different ballgame. I just hope I did the right thing. :)

Did you keep your new years' resolutions, and will you make more for next year?
I don't think i consciously made one. I am building a list of to-do's, though.

Did anyone close to you give birth?
Nope. Not yet, anyway. But two dear friends are on the family way - Tina and Jannette!!!

Did anyone close to you die?
Thank goodness, there was none.

What countries did you visit?
The USA. I guess I am here for an extended visit. :)

What would you like to have in 2007 that you lacked in 2006?
Direction.

What date from 2006 will remain etched upon your memory, and why?
First few weeks of January 2006. These are the days when I was constantly reminded of my aloneness, that I was really out here on my own. It didn't help at all that it was my first time to experince winter. Utterly melancholic.

What was your biggest achievement of the year?
Being happy is something that is consciously developed and affirmed. So when friends tell me I look happy where I am right now, it is enough achivement for me.

What was your biggest failure?
1. Not having taken even one of the four CPA exams.
2. Not making it just in time to save a relationship.

Did you suffer illness or injury?
Yes. I was rushed to the hospital on June 12th.

What was the best thing you bought?
A cheap but portable and very reliable heater for the winter!

Whose behavior merited celebration?
Me! I never thought I could survive living in the US for a year on my own. I have never experienced being genuinely independent and grown-up (finally! ha! ha! ha!).

Whose behavior made you appalled and depressed?
PGMA. Tongressmen.

Where did most of your money go?
House rent, car, insurance, winter clothes... i gotta stop now.

What did you get really, really, really excited about?
Running! Long drive! Touching base with friends from all over!

What song(s) will always remind you of 2006?
Can't think of one song in particular.

Compared to this time last year, are you:
i. happier or sadder? -- Happier
ii. thinner or fatter? -- I've gained 8 pounds since I arrived here. Now, how come i could still fit into my old clothes?
iii. richer or poorer? -- A little better off, surely, but none the richer.

What do you wish you'd done more?
1. Exercise
2. Yoga
3. Visit another foreign country. The US is so vast it felt like you were visiitng another country when you just flew to another state.

What do you wish you'd done less of?
1. Thinking about how some things should/would/could have been.
2. Procrastinating (bad, bad habit).

How many one-night stands?
None. I'd rather be bored. lol.

What was your favorite TV program?
Grey's Anatomy.

Do you hate anyone now that you didn't hate this time last year?
Nope.

What was the best book you read?
Books, actually - The Tipping Point and Blink by Malcolm Gladwell.

I think it is quite a feat to be able to translate dreary social and psychological studies into something one can actually enjoy reading and learning at the same.

What was your greatest musical discovery?
Celtic Woman. I have never heard voices so pure and so enchanting. Theirs is what an angel's voice probably sounds like.

What did you want and get?
A car - first thing that came to my mind.

What was your favorite film of this year?
Nothing comes to mind right now.

What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you?
Work. Dinner with friends. 31!

What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying?
I would have given the world to spend year-end holidays with my family back home.

How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2006?
I think I struggled on this score. lol. I've never felt more ignorant in fashion than when fall and winter came - almost no idea how to properly layer clothes. Nada. Zilch.

What kept you sane?
1. Driving alone, sometimes even when I didn't know where I wanted to go.
2. Just being silent, listening.

Which celebrity/public figure did you fancy the most?
1. Jamie Oliver.
2. Anthony Bourdain.
3. Ian Wright.

What political issue stirred you the most?
It was a conscious effort on my part to avoid anything that involves Philippine politics or else I'd get sick to my stomach.

Who did you miss?
A lot of people.

Who was the best new person you met?
Everyone to whom i got introduced.

Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2006:
Being independent in the truest sense of the word.

What was the nicest thing someone told you about yourself:
1. That i don't look my age. I was almost always mistaken for a new associate! Babaw :)
2. I write well.

The most touching experience you've had this year?
I'd rather keep this one to myself. But just so I would not forget, it was something that happened in June 2006. And I was so stupid I didn't know how to reciprocate the kindness.

What did you like most about yourself this year?
I am brave.

What did you hate most about yourself this year?
Procrastination.

Quote a song lyric that sums up your year:
I can't think of any right now.

Was 2006 a good year for you?
Yes. But it could be better.

What was your favorite moment of the year?
The first time I ran ten miles.

What was your least favorite moment of the year?
Going to the doctor alone.

Where were you when 2006 began?
In Stockton.

Who were you with?
Mommy Lina, and other relatives.

Where were you when 2006 ended?
In Antioch.

Who were you be with when 2006 ended?
With JP and Tina and their friends.

Do you have a new years resolution for 2007?
Just for me to get better.

What was your favorite month of 2006?
July 2006.

Did you lose anybody close to you in 2006?
No.

Did you miss anybody in the past year?
I miss a lot of people!

What was your favorite record from 2006?
Quite surprisingly, Celtic Woman.

How many concerts did you see in 2006?
None.

Did you drink a lot of alchohol in 2006?
A little.

Do a lot of drugs in 2006?
Never.

Did you do anything you are ashamed of this year?
I've learned from it the hard way but I won't elaborate. I just hope I will not be so stupid as to be in that situation again.

How much money did you spend in 2006?
Next question, please.

What was your proudest moment of 2006?
1. Getting a driver's license in California.
2. Driving on the freeway for the first time!

What was your most embarrassing moment of 2006?
Spilling steaming extra hot vanilla latte in the leather seat of a BMW Z3. It was my first day to car pool with a male intern who offered to give me a ride to and from work. 'Twas a good thing he was totally unruffled about the whole incident. A real gentleman, I should say.

If you could go back in time to any moment of 2006 and change something, what would it be?
I am one of the most gullible persons around, but then when it comes to handling relationships, I think I am irredeemably predisposed to skepticism. Having said that, I wish I believed more, reciprocated more…blah blah blah…

What are your plans for 2007?
1. Pass the California CPA exams.
2. Visit more states. roadtrip can be fun.
3. Travel to a foreign country, possibly with a good man (Oops! did I just say that?!)
4. Get involved in a new hobby (cooking/baking class, photography, yoga)
5. Those three should keep me pretty busy the whole year, thank you.

How are you different now that the year has ended?
I have:
1. learned to rely and depend on myself more - quite possibly one of the things living in the US has taught me well
2. paid more attention to people who matter (yup, absence surely makes the heart grow fonder)
3. appreciated the peace ang happiness that comes with being and doing things by myself.

What are your wishes for the new year?
World peace. Seriously. :)

Wanting to cross Borders

2006-12-04T17:01:00.000+08:00

I am in the final strech of Malcolm Gladwell's Tipping Point. Before that, I heroically (yes, heroically!) finished Sophie's World. FYI Bloggie, these are rereads. And yes, my CDs are screaming for new company. This is bad.

*-*-*

It's just horrible to think that I haven't been to Borders for months now. The only upside to this sorry revelation is that there's gonna be a lot of new stuff waiting for me. I don't think I will be disappointed. Not by a long shot.

*-*-*

Not Too Late by Norah Jones
The album will come out in January 2007 yet. Nothing can be better than knowing that this upcoming release contains 13 all-original compositions, either by the Norah herself or in collaboration with her fellow bandmates.

I've heard Rosie's Lullaby and Thinking About You. Thankfully, the voice, fragile and powerful at the same time, is still there. Really, everything in the world is gonna be all right.

The Beatles Love

When I think of how I ended up being a fan of arguably the most influential band on earth, I can't help but go back to the days when, as a kid, I kept on hearing my male cousins playing nothing but Beatles songs on their cassette player each and every day. Actually, it was not a 'cassette player', it was something they made from scratch, with the 'cassette tape' more like a white, unmarked VHS tape, only smaller. Whatever. I remember finding myself humming Beatles songs going home from their place where Ria, their sister, was my childhood frienemy.

I was, and still am, a closet fan. I have buried my love for the band in the deepest recesses of my mental closet. But every time I hear their songs, I want to stop what I am doing, go to the store and buy their album.

Celtic Woman A Christmas Celebration Deluxe Edition
I was mindlessly flipping through the channels when I heard melodies which struck me as the closest approximation of angels singing high up in the heavens. KQED was airing Celtic Woman: A new Journey and the owners of the wonderful voices were six, err five because the sixth one was a fabulous violinist, fine Irish ladies. They were performing at a castle in Ireland, quite a fitting venue for the exceptional voice they possess.

The Nasty Bits by Anthony Bourdain

He is everything you wouldn't imagine a chef to be but in my book, he is cool. Period. I liked him instantly on A Cook's Tour and No Reservations. I fell for him after reading Kitchen Confidential and A Cook's Tour.

He is prone to dishing out profanity in his shows, he is an unrepentant smoker, he has done drugs, he eats anything - and I mean anything - in search of, well, a perfect meal. If the accounts in his books are any indication, man, he's been through hell and back many times over. This same devil-may-care attitude does the trick for me. How many men - and a chef at that! - manage to be bad without even trying and get away with it?

The Innocent Man by John Grisham

It might be borne out of my childhood dream of becoming a lawyer, but eversince I got hold of The Firm, I always found myself waiting for John Grisham's new novel. One marvels at how he always managed to translate labyrinthine legal jargon into something layman, something that would not make you want to keel over from boredom.

According to the flap, The Innocent Man is his first attempt at nonfiction work. I guess that is reason enough for me to get a hold of this book soon!

Found out about me

2006-11-29T14:41:00.000+08:00

There is this scene in Runaway Bride where Ike (Richard Gere) was accusing Maggie (Julia Roberts) of not even knowing how she wanted her eggs done. I was dumbstruck. If I were in Maggie's shoes, I would have had exactly the same reaction. Is there something wrong with her? Or me, for that matter?

After weeks of car pooling and stopping by Starbucks to get our daily coffee fix, my friend couldn't help but ask why I chose different types of hot coffee every so often. It just puzzled him why I couldn't choose vanilla latte and stick with it. Is there something wrong with me?

I listen to almost all types of music. I am equally comfortable with Ella, Billie, Norah, Adam, Sergio, John, Rob, Enya, Ne-Yo…I could go on and on. Now, my friends here got more than a peek of my eclectic taste in music when they rode with me in my car. They wondered aloud how I could fully appreciate each genre. But I truly could. Is there something wrong with me?

There are other things. Like food! I couldn't convince anyone that I only liked Japanese food if it would save my life. They knew that I was always on when it came to trying out cuisines from, well, wherever. Is there something wrong with me?

Is it weird - or worse, wrong - not to have just one specific preference when it comes to food or music or coffee? Is this some kind of a psychological dysfunction which manifests itself in my ever-shifting taste in practically everything? One friend went as far as saying that that was probably the reason why I couldn't make a relationship work. Ouch.

You tell me, Bloggie.

You see, my sense of achieving 'normalcy' is rooted on my want to discover, experience or taste what the world has to offer. Very high sounding, yes, but that is the only way I can explain it.

Like the famed Mt Everest climbers always say: It is there. Go figure.

A record-breaking run

2006-08-21T05:20:00.000+08:00

It's been a while.

I could have written about a lot of things that happened to me. I did not because I was always procrastinating, too lazy to memorialize the happy, crazy, mundane, frightening, sappy and heartbreaking events that characterized the weeks past.

The event yesterday proved to be too happy to store in my memory bank. I may not know myself very well but I admit to being inveterately forgetful.

So here's one exhilirating news: I ran for 10 miles for two hours. That's all of 16 kilometers, do you hear me, Bloggie?

Never in my wildest dreams did I think I could do it.

My body is so sore today but I don't care one bit. The soreness is completely oblitirated by the fact that I feel really, really good.

I was glad Deth never tired of convincing me.

Deth and a couple of other friends have been preparing for the 13-mile 'fun' run on October 8 since two months back. After running out of excuses, I finally gave in to her invitation to practice with them. I warned them - and they knew - that I only did 4 miles max on the treadmill or the elliptical twice or thrice a week if I my schedule allowed it. Roughly, 4 miles on the machines always took me all of 40 minutes to accomplish. I fully understood my physical limitations. Or so I thought.

*****

The trail in Los Gatos was so nice. I was so taken by the peaceful lake lining the whole trail that I never cared if I was always at the tail end of the pack. It also helped that each runner I passed by - and boy, do they have floorboard abs! - never failed to greet you with a smile.

I never knew how I ended up finishing the first 5 miles ahead of everyone else. Deth said I did so well. I downplayed it by saying I was just lucky not having torn a ligament in my body. She thought I was being funny when I said we should have parked our cars near the 5-mile junction so we could go home if we decided we couldn't last another mile, much less go back 5 miles where we came from. I managed a nervous laugh.

So we headed back and proceeded to run at our own pace. After a while, and noticing that not one of my friends was within sight, I thought I was lost. It got me worried, moreso because of the fact that I was getting to be a legend hereabouts for having little or no sense of direction. This incident would surely nail it. But what could I do? There were just these junctions that confused me. I didn't bring my handphone. Worse, the trail would simply not allow any motor vehicle as it was too narrow. As a last resort, I thought of hitching a ride with a biker. Saying I was frightened was an understatement.

But I kept on running. Someone up there must have been leading the way - literally! - because everytime I thought of hounding a hapless biker, I would recognize landmarks that kept me believing I was on the right track.

After what seeemed like an eternity, I recognized the red line on the road, and the playground a few yards ahead. I made it. I was even more relieved to realize that I was not lost after all.

After a few minutes, my friends started arriving. It turned out I was the first one to finish. Deth said I probably clocked in a total of two hours.

They had to say that they were a bit concerned I got lost on my way back. They are really getting to know me very well.

*****

Maybe it's true what some friends say. I tend to underestimate my capabilities.

Happy, happy once again

2006-05-17T13:21:00.000+08:00

Hey there, Bloggie!

I just got home, but I guess I have to get to you and tell you some lip-smacking great news.

My 'restatement' team in Big Four garnered a "Local Chairman's Award". Honestly, I wasn't aware of it until my teammate IM'ed me about it.

Just so you know, administrative emails in my Inbox doesn't excite me. This is why I always find myself on the brink of missing deadlines, e.g., timesheets, PFFs, self-assessment forms...cr*ppy stuff. (Just recently, I found out that these things are in fact crucial in assessing bonuses!). Always just in time. No more, no less. Hmm...I'm lost in my own story. =)

Back to the story. So. I read the email. It said our 'excellent' job could be nominated for the "National Chairman's Award". But I was interested in something more tangible. As if reading my mind, the same teammate informed me a few hours after that we would be getting $500 each. That was the tangible I was talking about. Nice. But then, if I factored in the hours I worked overtime, and I guess this goes for the other seniors in the team, then that $500 is miniscule at the least.

But then again, it is better than nothing. And I am grateful. It is enough to cover monthly rent, gas and utilities. Or the cost of my plane fare for a much-needed vacay in July. Yipee!

P.S I got my car plates today. Yipee!

New things here and there

2006-05-01T14:44:00.000+08:00

Everything new is good.

A week before, I got myself a new car. I call him Bugsy. He is as close as I can get to having a boyfriend. He knows what type of music I like. He knows where I get my favorite food. He takes me wherever I want to go. He is everywhere I am. I don't want him out of my sight that sometimes, I have this urge to just leave everyhting behind and be with him to wherever. What's more, as long as you feed him, he never loses his cool. But I'm sorta getting the hint that Bugsy wants me to get a Magellan navigator, so I am seriously considering that option now. I cannot rely on Mapquest or Yahoo forever for directions. (That's why I hate it when friends change plans and I don't have someone with me in the car. I mean, what route do I take then? How many times do I have to tell them that I suck at directions?)

Today, I am sitting on my bed in my super comfy silk pj's and totally at peace with the world. How can I not be? Everywhere I look is new - bedsheets, quilt cover, pillowcases. Heck, I am literally on page one of the new novel I am reading!

What makes me even more pleased is the fact that my bathroom looks and smells absolutely good! Right after the mass and some great food courtesy of some great friends, I begged Jean to accompany me to the mall to buy some things for my bathroom. (Absent other friends, he is my trusty navigator). It's spring and I thought I needed to brighten it up a bit. Ta-da! I have this funky shower curtains in spring colors. It jazzed things up -including my mood - in a flash. Of course I put on the brakes and chose neutral shades for towels, rugs, toilet seat cover and whatnot. And this is a no-brainer: I could forget everything but a new stash of my favorite bath items. Gosh, I couldn't wait to take a bath again! :)

What tops it all off is my new digicam. Yes Bloggie, I finally got myself one after much thought (read: I was hoping for it to go on sale). The digicam I was dying to buy went on sale today, what do you know? The angels must have been be smiling at me, huh?

So yeah. This has been one fine day.

p.s.

lemme correct that, bloggie. today has been one super happy day! i think i deserve it. and i'll let you in on a secret. i was informed by cel that our 'hot skills bonus' are in. lo and behold, it was indeed in my account already. can someone wipe the grin off my face? i just cannot stop myself from smiling.

Stray thoughts

2006-04-24T12:25:00.001+08:00

I overslept today I missed the 9.30am mass. And the badminton game. And a short trip to the grocery to replenish my dangerously low supply of food and whatnot.

So. There was no need to hurry as the next mass I could attend was at 5pm yet.

I didn't know how I managed to knock off such mundane tasks as taking out the trash, washing my clothes, vacuuming the carpet, etc because all I knew was that my feet were practically leaden. It must be because I had programmed my brain to be on idle mode today.

I thought Jean was out so I just went back to my room to vegetate. I was tearing the plastic cover of a novel a dear friend gave me - hey, I'm down to just four unopened books! - when Jean came knocking at my door. He wanted me to go with him to the gym.

We stopped torturing our muscles a couple of hours before it was time for church. Knowing fully well that Jean moved at lightning speed, I told him to go ahead if he felt that waiting for me was like waiting for the Second Coming.

Big mistake.

Fast forward to fifteen past five, I thought I was hyperventilating. Bugsy wouldn't start. I called Jean and a couple of other friends. Still nothing. Past the point of desperation, I calmed my frayed nerves. After a few minutes, and not knowing whether it would make any difference, I thought of using the spare key. It did the trick. I was relieved beyond belief. But then again, I couldn't help but think of things that could go wrong with my car.

I was a bit late for the mass. The homily was quite interesting. It was about dependency. My mind suddenly wandered into some dark territory.

I didn't want Him to take what I prayed for but sometimes I wish I were totally un-independent and entirely dependent on someone else to think for me, decide for me...

For a change, perhaps?

Oh well. It must be one of those days when independence tires me.

what of it

2006-04-17T12:55:00.000+08:00

it just hits me.

the bagel shop is not the same. i was almost always late (just 5 minutes, eh?) but it didn't seem to bother you. i miss the two of us munching on bagels with cream cheese, with your coffee from the shop and mine from starbucks.

the freeway is too crowded. i miss the fun we always had as you inched your Roadster into the car pool lane and, once there, zoomed past the ocean of cars stuck in traffic to our right.

the radio stations are boring. i didn't mean to suggest anything when i told you i haven't exactly surfed the radio stations since i came here, but i guess you took it upon yourself to introduce me to some. thus, spanish week. i had no idea what the heck the loud radio jocks and the songs were crapping about, but you patiently explained them all to me as best as you could. in all this, i was not surprised to learn that you just had to have someone sorta in the know to help you appreciate things which you might otherwise take for granted.

it's spring and it's still raining, and it's still freezing cold. i miss your insisting to pick me up or drop me off right in front of my apartment each and every time it rained or it got unbearably cold.

lunch is kinda blah. i remember being secretly surprised how we ended up ordering the same food for lunch not a few times. you seem to be totally unaware of it each time 'coz you just kept on commenting how good and healthy my choices were, and i had to direct your eyes to your own plate.

is there some more?

i hope you don't hit me.

Bridging the gap

2006-04-01T15:22:00.000+08:00

I was afraid my blog space would get shut down due to inactivity, thus, this hasty post. Anyways, it's about time. Right, Bloggie?

Hmmm...I wonder whatever happened to me since 25 January. Let me step back for a few and try to recollect my thoughts...

(After a minute...)

OK. Here goes my list:

Driving and loving the freedom that goes with it. I don't know if it will pass but right now, I am totally enjoying the freedom that driving gives me. I don't care that I've lost track of how many times I got lost on my way to wherever. All I know is that I always managed to get back on track. So it's fun! Then there's the temporary snag. Well, it is not a snag, I think, but a blessing in disguise (see 4). *wide grin*
Being part of a nice audit team. I mean it. So far, I've only been assigned to one client and I am not even doing audit work. I am doing restatement work. Don't ask, Bloggie, but it's a very welcome change for me. Yes, my teammates have all been very kind and accommodating it amazes me sometimes. Plus, we always have free lunch from good restaurants. And a bottomless snack pit. Who am I to complain?
Driving down to LA for xis hours. It was not supposed to be for fun because we'd be visiting Jean's brother who underwent a heart bypass operation. As it happened, the visit to the hospital lasted all of thirty minutes as no one was allowed to linger for long. We touched base with a couple of guy-friends and decided to bring them along with us to Downey to visit my Aunt. It was a very nice reunion.
The snag. I got sidelined from driving for a time. This teammate offered to take me to and from work. It was a surprisingly nice gesture but I declined. He insisted. I relented. It was good I did for I have discovered a pretty interesting guy. As of now, let me just say that for all his kindness, niceness and patience, I hope he is all he claims to be and more.
Seeing Maricel and Tina in California! Maricel is my audit batchmate/good friend back in the Philippines. Who would have thought that I'd be able to see her again after 5 long years? What's more, we are officemates once again! Cool, huh? My dear Tina finally arrived on 3 March. After weeks of intentionally not keeping in touch, Jean, Maricel and I surprised her with a visit a couple of days after she arrived. Cool to the nth degree.
Doing all the little things. Like going to the gym, taking up tennis, bowling, badminton, running, sprucing up the apartment, reading unfinished novels, shopping... shopping...shopping...
Planning some things. Learning to cook 30-minute meals (ala Rachel Ray), learning a foreign language, taking up diving lessons, flying up to Europe (or just Italy, or, if all else fails, settle with some famous US destination), buying a car (please, Happy, make a decision!!!), etc etc.....

I have to stop as my laptop's battery is running on low. Dang!

Riding high

2006-01-25T12:57:00.000+08:00

Fortune favors the brave. Or so some people say.

I came face to face with fear last night.

You see, Bloggie, I haven't rented a car since I arrived. The closest I got to driving was when I spent one weekend with my Aunt where she let me drive her mean SUV inside the village at 40mph tops. Out on the freeway, you should go no lower than 65mph. Out on the freeway, a greenhorn like me will look like an irredeemable sissy being relentlessly bullied by overeager juvenile delinquents with road rage.

Last night. Last night, I decided to take up the challenge. Jean didn't want to go with me. I venture he is kinda having this idea - and kinda correctly, I confess - that I am not as brave as I appear. Gosh. I needed someone...in the passenger seat, at least? Virgie's husband, Tan, agreed to take me to Hertz to pick up the car, then I'd drive the rented wheels alone back to my flat. I guess I had no choice.

I was pleasantly surprised when Hertz upgraded my car at no extra cost to me. (I winked, perhaps?) I got a sleek 2006 Toyota Avalon with just 8 miles of usage. Great! At this point, I think I was still fine.

It was totally different once I got inside the car. Without warning, I got paralyzed with the thought of driving on the freeway. I unraveled, to say the least. I literally froze in my seat. After half an hour of total inertia, Tan decided he'd go fetch Virgie. I waited for another forty-five minutes before Virgie eased herself into the passenger seat.

After an eternity and another prayer, I started the engine. Blackie, my new friend-car, has a built-in GPS. Bless him! I must've called on all the saints as I drove off and onto 101, THE freeway.

Surprisingly, and quite unexpectedly, I got comfortable. So comfortable in fact that Virgie and I reached home earlier than Tan. Strangely hilarious, if you ask me.

Today, Blackie took me to and from my very first client engagement. I couldn't suppress a laugh as I remember when I did not connect and got out of synch with the directions. I didn't mind. I was having fun.

Fear is good. Fun, even. There's just a catch, though. You gotta face up to it until it backs away. Where it ends, fun begins.

Cheers, Pacman!

2006-01-22T15:23:00.000+08:00

I just have to mark this glorious event.

Manny "The Pacman" Pacquiao TKO'ed Erik Morales!

Before the highly anticipated faceoff, Cel and I made fun of the two preceding boxing matches. With intense scrutiny, we 'analyzed' the pugilists based on their...well...appearance. Maybe it's a complex science known only to our kind but it somehow worked for us with unerring precision. Our bets won, with their black-and-blue opponents pathetically running for cover.

Then came Erik and Manny. I thought they were a study in contrast. Whereas Manny projected a gung-ho attitude, Erik had a quiet and brooding air about him. Cel and I couldn't decide who would win based on our 'matrices'. We concluded that they were equal.

I couldn't stand the first few rounds because Manny was being assaulted by Erik's more precise jabs, uppercuts and hooks. Whatever. Manny was being hit from everywhere and it looked as though his footwork was fumbling. But he managed not to get nasty cuts in the face, which was some consolation.

Then Round 6 came and the tables turned. Suddenly, Manny, still bouncy and seemingly unfazed by all the bulls-eye hits, delivered. And deliver he did, just what his gazillion Filipino fans would fall on all fours to see - hard-hitting blows, pun intended to Erik of course. One commentator's cutting observation: desperation comes in the form of rubbing the leg. I saw Erik's legs being massaged and I literally understood. He also looked so beat and tired.

Thanks to Manny's deadly left hand and I daresay his kababayans' unflagging support, Erik saw the stars before the tenth round ended.

I bet everyone in the Philippines is rejoicing.

Cheers to you, Pacman. May you always be hungry. :)

First post from the Valley

2006-01-16T15:53:00.000+08:00

A lot of things have happened since my last post.

Other than my digicam's busted lens, the most significant in the lot would have to be seeing and trying to get along with Uncle Sam.

FYI Bloggie, I have been in the States since 28 December. From that point on, everything has been a blur of activities.

(I am not really in the Valley right now. I am in Chicago. Finding the pre-course materials utterly unappealing I am in danger of keeling over, I suddenly remember I have you, Bloggie, for company. So bear with my thoughtless chatter, will you?)

29 December
Terrible jetlag. Slept all day in my warm and cozy apartment. I didn't even care that I was alone or what.

30 December - 1 January
Fetched by cousins to spend New Year in Stockton. Met up with a very dear Aunt who didn't give a thought in giving me the key to Volvo SUV to test drive around the village. Nice wine. Warm company. I miss my digicam.

2 - 6 January
Got a headstart on getting an SS number. Visited the office. Jean toured me around the area. Actually asked myself if I could live here. Bought lotsa food. So happy to see Cel again! Scouted for a permanent flat. Rode the tram alone. Saw some sights alone. Met new friends. I'D HAVE TO HAVE A DIGICAM!

8 - 11 January
Orientation. Great program. Greatest desserts! Great Disneyland tour. Did only one ride - Soar - as there was no time.

12 - 13 January
First two days in office. Surprised to find that Pinoys dominate the Supplies Section. Very warm HR people. Got my SS number. Broke a sweat when informed I'd be part of a SOX client; fieldwork immediately starts after the upcoming training. Reality is checking in...

14 January
Scouted for an apartment with Jean until we finally found a nice one. Really nice! Bought a couple of boots. Bought a couple of size one coats (gosh, heavy!). Bought mittens. Forgot the beanies. At one point, wondered aloud how these people layered their winter clothing. WHEN AM I GONNA HAVE IT?

15 January
Flew out of San Jose. Flew in to Chicago for a one-week training. Brrrr! Very surprised to find that the 'hotel' resembled a big dormitory. Spartan accommodations. No nonsense, built-for-lecture ambiance. No fun. Not surprised that the Accenture peeps thought the same, too. Happy that there are lots of interesting people. I'D BUY A NEW DIGICAM. TOMORROW?

There, Bloggie. I have finally checked in, eh? :)

Happy birthday, King!

2005-12-11T22:31:00.000+08:00

This time, Bloggie, my gift to him is a visit to the dermatologist and, quite possibly, a facial.

Several weeks prior to this day, I couldn't help but notice how he wrinkled his young forehead every single time I saw him in front of the mirror. I know the feeling very, very well. I wanted to spare him the misery of miseducation and physically damaging experimentation that I offered to take him to the dermatologist. I got a blank stare. I persisted. For good measure, I gave him the lowdown on facial treatments that could get so excruciating it was like the equivalent of a face-off minus the anesthesia. He turned visibly pale, but I was beyond caring. It was for his own good!

We are in front of the clinic and neither of us is moving. Two minutes later, I look at him real hard and tell him it is going to be all right. He must have seen flaming red eyes or something but he finally opens the door. I breathe a sigh of relief. Brother!

After the assessment, King is endorsed to one of the attendants for a deep-cleansing facial. (That one? Gosh. That will hurt some.) I smile at the dermatologist while at the same time assuring my brother that we will sue them to the last penny if they botch the job. King laughs at me. I am dead serious.

I wait for an hour and a half before he emerges from one of the cubicles. His face was red. There is no smile on his face and he is not looking at me. The attendant pulls me aside and tells me King has had to endure a lot. My golly. We leave the clinic in deafening silence and the slowest elevator in the world is taking forever to open. I ask if he is ever coming back for the succeeding treatments. He remains ominously mute.

Outside the building, the weather is balmy. I steal glances at him and see that his face is getting okay fast. I stop walking and ask if he has seen Greenbelt and Glorietta. He hasn't. I know it. Malls to him pertains to the holy trinity of SM Megamall, Edsa Shangri-la and Gateway. Full of conviction, he says Makati is for serious, working AND older people. I am totally stumped. How in heaven's name can I begin to argue with that?

I recover my wits and nudge him to the right and onto Greenbelt. It is lovely - Christmas trimings and always a good vibe all around. I like what I am seeing at every turn, but more so on the fact that King seems to be having some seriously good time. The view - living and non-living - must have been a feast to his eyes.

We keep on walking until we find ourselves in Glorietta. I feel like I am starting to gag but I have an unfinished obligation to my uninitiated underling.

A thousand miles after, I ask him what and where he wants to eat. I shouldn't have asked because he eats anything, absolutely anything edible. He's at this stage where 'live to eat, live to eat' seems the sacred mantra. I bring him to Cibo. It is his birthday, anyway. He likes my choices. Could I be staring at the mirror?

Out of the blue, King suddenly opens up to me. We talk and talk about lots of things - the past, the present, and the future. We can stay rooted to our spot forever but it is getting late. We agree to retrace our steps to the clinic, which, incidentally, is near the terminal.

While waiting in line, I smile back at him, teasingly point to the clinic and remind him of his appointment in a couple of weeks. He appears to mimic me and says, "...for your own good, for your own good. And for my peace of mind,". He really surprises me sometimes.

Lots of firsts for him, he says. I am about to say nothing else applies more to me but I risk smothering him. There's our van.

I am immensely thankful that everything turns out like it does.

I just hope King is still cool once it all sinks in and he realizes that I just became his, well, birthday date. :-P

One drink too many

2005-11-28T13:36:00.000+08:00

I have very poor and unhappy brains for drinking: I could well wish courtesy would invent some other custom of entertainment. - William Shakespeare

Tina asked where I was. I thought it was a funny thing to ask considering that she almost always knew where I was. And vice versa. Having been recently orphaned by friends who left one after the other to build their fortunes in various parts of the Western hemisphere, we promised to always stick with each other. As if I did not, pre-exodus. Heck, we went as far as going to the custom jeweler to help her choose the wedding rings, eh? Well, JP surely gave her the details of how he wanted the bands to look, but hey, this is, like, major stuff. Right, Bloggie?

Anyway, she reminded me that I was supposed to be with her in a couple of hours to watch some movie. I didn’t recall ever knowing about the movie…translation: she needed company.

I didn’t remember what we watched. Was it that mediocre? As we were walking out of the cinema, Tina received a text message from Nelson asking where we were blah blah blah. Tina turned to me and pleaded for more of my time as Nelson could really use some company. I could see where this was heading, but knowing fully well what Nelson was going through, I called home to say I’d be staying with Tina and would be back the following day.

We fetched him at Padi’s Point. He was alone, as usual. He looked fine to me. The food was a major bummer so we decided to pack up and head to Salo instead.

The place was almost deserted except for the couple at the far end of the bar. Nelson ordered a bottle of tequila. I said I wanted loads of vegetable sticks. So we got both. And Tina’s octopus. I was expecting a highly charged atmosphere but it was not coming. What? After downing the bottle? Nelson signaled something to the server who promptly went away after being given some instructions. He came back after a couple of minutes to deliver another bottle. I was keeping tabs. I was going for my 12th shot. Oh gosh. I started to feel a burning sensation in my throat. Plus it was getting so hot. Oh my gosh. Just then TY, Nelson’s brother, came in and joined us. He immediately worked us into a bantering mode. I barely managed a weak smile while I thought Tina was getting more hyper by the minute. I downed my 13th - quite foreboding, I must add. I brought my head up, looked at Tina across the table and saw her with three pairs of eyes.

I thought Nelson saw the signs. I told him I couldn’t stand up. I felt my body getting numb and weightless. Plus, everything was spinning in slow motion. TY sent for coffee for Tina and myself but I was clearly so out of it already. Nelson stood up. He had to drag me to the restroom.

I was failing – and falling – miserably. I couldn’t even expel a dot of carrot stick no matter how I tried. I would not poke my finger down my throat, the way bulimics do, if my life depended on it. Then, without warning, it happened. In no time, the sink was clogged with orange, green and white sludge. Think bird’s nest soup, Bloggie. Yikes!!! I really thought the onslaught would add my intestines into the mix as a fitting garnish. It was sickening. But it didn’t stop there.

Strapped at the backseat, I was still throwing up in the car. The last thing I remember doing was plunking my wasted carcass into the sofa and passing out faster than you could say forty winks.

I recall wanting to be really, really drunk since I first tasted of alcohol. Who wouldn’t want to be when your first was a bottle of dom perignon my guy friend in high school stashed into his bag for the after-prom party in their home’s attic? He eventually came out of the closet. That must explain his fine taste at an early age. Don’t you think so, Bloggie?

So. That was how being totally, absolutely soused was all about. At least for me. I didn’t even plan it. And, by golly, I found out only after three decades? Tell me, Bloggie, is it worse for others?

One last thing. There’s something I have disproven. You should not believe it when people say they don’t know what they’re doing when they’re drunk and that they don’t remember what happened. It’s all bull. They know it. How else could I spill all this to you, Bloggie? Or was my sottishness ain’t enough???

Whatever. I am just so thankful I was with friends. Lesson well learned.

p.s.

Bloggie, the lady jeweler makes really nice rings! Hmmm…as if! Well, at least I learned some nifty things about wedding bands from the gracious lady. ;->

The business of being cheery

2005-11-10T19:24:00.000+08:00

‘If you haven’t confirmed your flight information yet, please hold on. We are in the final stages of gaining approvals from the Philippine government. I just want to make sure hat when you need to leave you have all the approvals. We are sitting tight. This has been a frustrating process…’

That’s the latest word from Big 4.

This waiting game is really frustrating. I am thinking: if not for the signed employment contract, Big 4 might have withdrawn their offer pronto as the POEA hubbub unraveled.

And what about my friends? I remember feeling so downcast when a good friend teased me unceasingly and, as a final blow, said, ‘aalis ka pa ba?’. I mean we’re not even close! Now, before they tire of asking me whatever the h*ll is happening to me, I told them to just stop asking and wait for my call/sms/email. That’s a joke. But, admittedly, it was the essence of my last message. Now, I am making myself scarce save for a handful of girl friends. You see, Bloggie, I’m kinda tired of explaining my case.

I am happy most times, but there’s just this day when I cannot stop myself from thinking if I really made the right choice, if there’s more to the delay than just merely waiting for POEA’s action, if Big 4 actually withdraws its offer (the horrors!), if I really know where I’m going… I can actually poison my brain with more depressing thoughts.

That’s why I have to stop. I’m sitting tight, yes, for more time than I care to count. I don't have to understand everything everytime. I know in the deepest corner of my heart that I am all right. That’s why I’m happy.

I'll always be Happy! :)

the light of a cheerful heart

i tell you that you and I and the commonest
person are all journeying the same way,
hemmed in by the same narrow path,
leading to the eternal years.

we pride ourselves over our particular superiority;
but really there is little difference between us;
and in this journey over the thousand hills and
valleys called life, he is wisest who is
patient where the way is hard, has faith when
he does not understand, and carries into the
dark places the light of a cheerful heart.

Bringing the house down

2005-11-08T19:02:00.000+08:00

One cool Saturday evening…

‘…walang pakiramdam ang mga magulang,’ I heard Grannie say as I got myself seated to her left.
‘Ano yun?’ I asked earnestly. I turned to my left and pinched Twixie’s plump cheeks.
‘Si Grannie, nanlalait na naman ng contestant,’ Ria said, smiling conspiratorially with Grannie.
I looked at the tv and saw this show, Pinoy Pop Superstar, hosted by Regine Velazquez, a.k.a. Asian Songbird, being shown.
‘Alam namang walang kagaling-galing ang anak, pinasasali pa. Kaya daw, di naman. Niloloko nila anak nilang walaaaaanggggg ka- talent-talent! Tingnan mo, ginatungan pa ng mga kamag-anak. Naku, dinadamay pa tayo sa lokohan!’ Grannie said, very seriously.
The monologue elicited a round of laughter. It didn’t end there.
‘Pati si Pop ay kita mong di natutuwa sa batang iyan,’ said the self-appointed critic.
‘Pop?’ everyone on the table echoed.
‘Aba, di ba si Pinoy Pop ang host?’ Grannie asked, looking at me, as if asking for a way out.

*****

We were furiously attacking banana fritters. I was cutting portions for Twixie, but I could sense Grannie was watching us. Then…
‘Tingnan mo nga si Bae,’ Grannie said.
‘Ha? Bakit po?’ I asked, not sure what she was driving at.
‘Papa pa ang pinapatawag sa ama ni Janjan. “Punta ka sa papa.” Naku, hindi ko mapigilang tumawa,’ she said. Janjan is Bae’s kid.
‘Grannie…’ I said as I shook my head, instantly aware where the conversation was going.
‘Nung araw, Inang at Amba ang tawag namin sa aming mga magulang. Pag nanay at tatay, aba, mayaman na yun. Bigatin na,’ she continued.
‘Mga Bicolano, Grannie, papa ang tawag nila, kahit ano…’ Nanay said, matter-of-factly.
‘Tsaka Grannie, kelan pa yung panahon nyo? Muntik mo na yata maabutan first world war eh,’ I said.
‘Grannie, sa amin babalik ang pagpuna mo, sige ka,’ Meng warned. Oh gosh.
‘Hayaan nyo na sila. Mukhang ok na nga si Janjan. Mataba, singkit pa. Chinese, hehehe,’ I added, looking Grannie’s way hopefully.
‘Naku, manglo ang batang yun!’ Grannie boomed.
All of them began laughing hysterically. I, on the other hand, started to laugh because the word sounded very funny to me. I didn’t know what the word meant.
‘Whaddaheck is ‘manglo’,Meng?’ Ms. Almost Always Clueless asked helplessly. They were practically beet red from laughing. I wanna be like them!
‘Tabang hangin,’ Nanay barely managed to say.
Heavens!

*****

The laughter subsided a bit. We looked at Twixie who seemed to be loving the fritters to bits. She was applauding fitfully, looking menacingly at the bit-size portions I piled on her plate. It was time for another lesson.
‘Twixie, say “delicioso!”. Try?’ I prodded, trying to demonstrate how to execute the act. Meg and Bianchi had perfected this lesson, eh?
The kid just kept on nodding her head, smiling widely as she willed her tiny fingers to mimic my hand. A few more attempts and all we heard were incoherent ramblings at best. I gave her A-plus for effort.
‘Tama na, baby. Bata ka pa, pressured na,’ I said as I lightly pinched her cheeks.
Then, Grannie craned her neck to see Twixie more clearly.
‘Twixie, sige nga. Say “malicioso!”. Twixie, go. “Malicioso!” Grannie coaxed the poor kid. Twixie gave her a puzzled look only a toddler her age could muster.
We almost fell off the chair.

Banishing the bane of my existence

2005-10-29T22:20:00.000+08:00

“Ah, details. They're kind of the bane of your existence, huh? Unfortunately, they are a necessary evil that everyone must deal with from time to time. And now it's your turn. But have no fear -- it'll all turn out well.”

That, Bloggie, is my horoscope for the day. Not that my existence depends solely on the alignment of the stars, but the astrologer’s prediction was right on the mark today.

Details here pertain to shoes. I plead no contest to the charge that shoes are kind of the bane of my existence, I mean, over and above clothes, bags, accessories and bath necessities (I think I am addicted to Lush and Body Shop but that’s another story). These are absolute essentials, arguably close to being luxuries for my middle-class sensibilities but they are definitely not staples of vanity…these are a lethal mix…we’re talking bane here so…so, in the event of my involuntary march south of middle class, these are the culprits, ok?…Anyway, where was I?

It must have been the high from knowing some good news from my US employer that suddenly pushed the buttons and set me into a fast and furious housekeeping frenzy.

My eyes automatically took aim at the first casualty of this – how should I call it? – streamlining. You see, Bloggie, Meng’s and my shoes – purchased from 2002 onwards - are neatly strewn (neat and strewn – go figure) all over the place: (a) along the staircase; (b) on the shelf beside the staircase; (c) in my bedroom; (d) on a makeshift four-tier shoestand; and (e) where else, oh where else?

I was a bit daunted but I persevered as I couldn’t contain my sudden obsessive-compulsive need to put some things in order. I stared at the neat pile along the staircase. The shoes in this corner were safe as they were obviously flavors of the month. Now, the shoes stacked in the rest of the areas were a totally different story. Herculean effort is in order, both in terms of deciding which among the horde would be discarded and which would be shipped off to, well, whoever would find use for the used but still fully serviceable pairs. Oh, and I almost forgot to mention that neat hereabouts pertains exclusively to the way the shoes were stored, meaning, a good number of them, being unused for quite some time now, would require a sturdy pair of cleaning hands. I was close to trading places with Hercules.

Here’s why.

It took me the whole day for each pair to be removed from the box/shelf, inventoried, cleaned/dusted, assessed for redundancy, and, for those which passed rigid quality control inspection, returned to the box/shelf. Did I say that by default the boxes and the shelves also needed serious wiping?

I am really driving home my reference to that Greek/Roman hero of extraordinary strength, so here is the register of shoes on which I labored:

(in pairs)

low-cut suede shoes – 3
office shoes (flat) – 5
office shoes (with heels; either closed, open-toed, or with slingback) - 14
boots - 4
flats for walking – 4
shoes for when attending weddings (in satin, silk, or lace) – 4
mary janes - 3
strappy sandals/wedges – 5
sneakers - 7
mojos - 4
slip-ons (flat) - 4
slip-ons (with heels) – 14
slippers (good enough for jeans, skirts, etc) - 12

I leave you the task of adding up the items, Bloggie. (Then I remember a dozen or so pairs which I discarded last year before I worked in Singapore and some other pairs I left behind when I left after ten months.) Okay, take out a quarter from the whole lot because they belong to Meng, and you’d arrive at my share. Which leads me to ask if there’s an anonymous group dealing with this sorry affliction (like Alcoholics Anonymous, Blog Addicts Anonymous….)?

Shoes are the necessary evil that must be dealt with from time to time. That much is true. Although my efforts turned out well, the stars did not grant me immortality, very much unlike what Hera rewarded Hercules for his 12 labors (7 or 12?). But, ordinary mortal that I am, I couldn’t be more proud of my feat.

So. Am I a strong candidate for obsessive-compulsive behavior? Hmm, maybe a few more posts and let's see if I need to hire a psychiatrist. Agree?

But it surely feels good. I feel several pounds lighter. What could be more rewarding than that? I mean, I haven’t heard of a more fight diet regimen where you feel the effect instantaneously.

Seeing is believing

2005-10-25T20:56:00.000+08:00

As I was browsing through my photo blog (or log, whatever), I realized that I treated myself to some good music during the first half of the month. I like seeing and hearing musicians live on stage, basically to see what they're made of and to better appreciate their musicality.

1 October - The CompanY at the CCP Main Theater

I am not really head over heels in awe of this group. In fact, I don't recall ever being an avid follower. Besides, I can only manage a handful of their songs that I like. But, hands down, they are at their best doing a cappella. Then again, I haven't watched a single concert of this group, so...

So the timing could not have been more perfect when Meng told me that The CompanY was having a concert to mark their 20th anniversary (!). Not being a diehard fan herself, I wondered why she was quite eager to watch it. Turned out there was a line-up of formidable guest singers in the concert. Okay...

So off we went, buying tickets at the last minute, somewhat surprised upon finding out that they were almost sold out. I think we'd need binoculars?

Our balcony tickets notwithstanding, we saw and heard them clearly. Thank heavens the venue was an auditorium. The audience were expectedly gushing over old OPM faves - Now That I Have You, Muntik na Kitang Minahal, Pakisabi Na Lang, Baka Ikaw. They even gave Eraserheads' Ang Huling El Bimbo and Viva Hot Babes (?) Bulaklak a funky and jazzy twist. Neat! They were nothing if not versatile that night. Maybe that was their whole point. We got it.

6 October - Catherine Tuttle at the Podium

"..that was Alone by Catherine Tuttle. Catch her tonight at the Podium..." That was all I heard as I flipped the dial to 92.3. In the last few days, I was shifting between 105.1 and 92.3 in the hopes of catching her voice. Talk of miserably bad timing.

Dragging Meng along, we found ourselves mingling with predominantly foreign crowd. A few minutes after settling in our seats, Catherine came up on stage unobtrusively. Only 18 years old, she endeared herself to the crowd with her down to earth manner. She was so unpretentious. Why, in the middle of her performance, she borrowed a pen from the audience, flipped her hair with it, and, voila, an instant hairclip! I even noticed she removed her slip-ons, the wooden sandals presumably preventing her from feeling the rhythm of the piano more accurately. I like her! :)

I am not a critic, Bloggie, but I felt like I was listening to a younger version of Carole King, or Sarah Maclachlan, or Tori Amos even. I bought a copy of her cd (of course!). Turned out she composed all of the tracks except for Rescue Me. Neat!

'Twas good! She was good!

7 October - Mishka Adams at the Podium

I was ecstatic to learn that Mishka would be back by this time (from London) to cap the week-long Candid International Jazz Festival. I longed to see her perform live, longer please.

She's better heard live, her voice so smooth it practically rendered the crowd clamoring for more, more, more! Without a doubt, it helped that Mishka was backed up by equally gifted musicians whose improvisation must have stopped passersby on their tracks, pulled by the force of truly wonderful fusion of sound coming from the instruments.

I was with Meng. Again. Come to think of it, Bloggie, she is very much a sport when it comes to indulging my taste in food, clothes and, yes, music. The events of the preceding days could attest to that. Anyway. She'd heard Mishka before but she was not that, uhh, enthralled by her. I can tell you, Bloggie, that it all changed when she saw and heard her in person. She was positively gushing after a few awkward moment. I told her it was all right as I nudged her to look all around.

I can't wait for her next album.

Running around in circles

2005-10-18T13:53:00.000+08:00

My patience is hanging by a very precarious thread.

I thought I should be in San Jose, California by now, working for the "biggest professional services organization in the world". But as Fate (?) would have it, I am still here in the Philippines, taking in more than my share of government bureaucracy. Well, I am p**ing from this diet I am having for close to three months now. Hello!!! It boggles the mind what's taking this government so long to approve the local agency tasked by my new employer to expedite POEA's issuance of the all-too-important Overseas Employent Card.

By the way Bloggie, I do not wish to chronicle the events leading to my clinching the Stars and Stripes job and eventually obtaining an H1B US visa for it...see? That statement was the long and short of it. And I could barely remember the nitty-gritties, anyway.

Lest you think, Bloggie, that I am heaping all the blame on this desperate government, my Big 4 firm also didn't quite get the alternative available to me - and effectively, to them also, right? - as prescribed by the POEA in case the waiting game drags on. Which is that I could just sign the POEA Waiver Form and therefore free Big 4 from any responsibility except those that bind them as per the employent contract. I kept on explaining this alternative to my Big 4 contact through email, then, just now and a couple of days ago, through phone. Her last response went something like their legal department adviced me to wait for the POEA's response and that I should advice them if I took this route because they were not aware of any waiver and its contents if ever I pursued in signing it. Somehow, I kinda expected this response if you know what I mean, Bloggie.

That's why it totally escapes me why they still had that bit about not being responsible for the waiver's contents. If you think about it, Bloggie, I'd end up with the shorter end of the stick. In the midst of its perpetual state of lethargy, I could appreciate POEA in protecting its overseas workers, thus the additional requirements which could confuse foreign employers. With the waiver, the employee (me!) has no choice but to stick with what's in the employent contract. It is THAT simple. It's sign-at-your-own-risk and I fully, fully understand it. The employent contract is super fine with me, anyway. The only thing lacking, as per the POEA, is that thing about repatriation of remains. My salary could afford it, thank you. And I have lots of relatives in California, whatever happens.

What's more exaspirating is that my San Jose contact is aware of my other colleague who resorted to the Waiver Move. Big 4's office in San Francisco, where he'd be posted, approved the idea. He is now waiting for his flight on 24 October. Grrr...

In the end, I know it is just a matter of time. But can I please be spared the runaround? It is never fun.

Falling into place

2005-10-03T21:44:00.000+08:00

***********************************************************************************
If we take care of the moments, the years will take care of themselves.
***********************************************************************************

Whenever I am at home these days, my cousin Ria and I usually eat mid-morning snacks together. Other than bringing baby Twixie over to be my current playmate, I like having her around. Why?

She is two years my junior but she figured prominently in my childhood as we were constant playmates. We go a long way back. It’s return to Pooh Corner, Christopher Robin and, yes, ruffled undies. I can think of no more graphic interpretation.

True to our being 80’s kids, we’d engage in countless sports like our life depended on it. No kidding.

Biking, patintero, tumbang preso, climbing trees, jogging, piko, table tennis, Chinese garter, hide and seek, luksong tinik, football, swimming, volleyball, badminton, hulug-hulugang ginto, touch-the-handkerchief, monkey-monkey-Annabelle-how-many-monkeys-did-you-see, hula hoops or plain running in the rain.

Those games which ended up on stalemate were decided on by jack-en-poy. Hahaha. Ria had this uncanny ability to win it almost every time. I hated her for it as I was irredeemable on that score. Barring that waterloo, Barring that waterloo, I did very well in all those sports such that our playmates always wanted me to be part of their teams. Ria hated me for that.

Sit-down events would involve jackstones, pick-up sticks, trump cards, sungka, rubber bands, gameboys, jolens (so much better than saying marbles, yes?), and Ritchie Rich/ Popeye/ Bioman/ Shaider/ Pacman/ Transformers/ SuperFriends sessions with my Pop Cola or Ria’s Sarsi and Nanay’s champorado, puddings or pancakes, or powdered Milo mixed with loads of Birch Tree and sugar.

We were also in the business of plucking leaves, twigs, flowers and whatnots from our ill-fated garden. We’d chop, slice, mince, crush and cook them in clay pans and pots made in Antipolo, no less. We lovingly served them to stray cats and dogs which, unfortunately, never paid us another visit after their first try. We always wondered why.

When we were into our teens, believe it or not Bloggie, we joined the local church choir. Just for fun, as always. I was an alto and Ria was a soprano. The highlight of our short-lived career was singing Latin songs at the Asian Institute of Liturgy and Music. Our conductor had so much faith in our group he thought nothing of using us in his graduation recital. I don’t know if it was out of white fear or undeniable talent that carried our group through, but we sure made it.

As time went by, we sort of drifted apart. I basically lost track of what was happening to her and to the world, for that matter. I remember struggling with a lot of issues on my own. I was so myopic I couldn’t care less what happened to people other than my family. But now that I look back, I realize she must have faced up to life’s challenges harder, much harder than I could have had managed on my own. She lost her mother, then her father, then her home. She survived a tumultuous relationship with an inveterate freeloader. For the life of me, I couldn’t hold a candle with what she had to go through to get to where she is right now.

Right now? She is a picture of pregnant happiness, no pun intended. You see Bloggie, she is expecting her second child in February. She married a very good man. She went back to the house they lost, restored it and made it her growing family’s home. If I think about it, everything she lost was given back to her in different packages, apparently overloaded with blessings. Here, I remember what a friend told me. God helps those who helps themselves.

Now why, really, do I like her? She is one tough cookie, like Rosanna Roces’ brand of fearlessness minus the latter’s misdemeanors and triple X adventures. She also has this way of endearing herself to people, particularly elder townsfolk. That’s why I never need go out of the four corners of our house to know the latest tittle-tattle in the four corners of our town.

My goodness! I have to write it all down before I finally get it. I have met and will surely meet lots of other people but she is one of those people who will always remind me of my roots. I cannot drive home the point more clearly.

What'd they do to Dr. Seuss?

2005-09-27T20:26:00.000+08:00

The movie was shown way, way back, 2003 in fact. My question is: Was there ever a signature campaign to erase the movie from the unsuspecting moviegoers' memory? Let me sign up!

* - *

The other day, I was so looking forward to a blissful sleep owing to a very relaxing spa. Well, I did manage to get some shuteye. It lasted for exactly an hour.

With bleary eyes, I got up from my bed and turned on the tv. I surfed and surfed until I came to HBO. I saw someone who looked like Dr Seuss, one of my all-time favorite cartoon characters, and early teachers, for that matter. I ditched the idea of going back to sleep and fed my sudden and unexpected longing for nostalgia.

Dr Seuss’ Cat in the Hat, that was the movie I was watching. I recognized Dakota Fanning, Alec Baldwin and Kelly Preston. Thing 1 and Thing 2, they were also there, but of course! And was it Paris Hilton in a disco-dancing cameo? Her appearance was so fleeting she was practically gone in the blink of an eye.

I think I caught two-thirds of the movie but I think I didn't miss much.

In one of the breaks, I frantically searched for and found the hardcover book from which the movie was made as I had zero recollection of the story.

What did I see?

Mike Myers was a rather podgy version of the tall and skinny cat I knew. Why, he was a total miscast and too mischievous for comfort. Dr Seuss was so famous and well-loved by kids because of the downright funny and catchy rhymes and the wonderfully nonsensical words. Myers, for his part, kept on blurting out inappropriate and at-times callous lines so totally out of the kids' league. The writers must’ve thought of mom & dad who watch with the kids. FYI Bloggie, the attempt at humor got wearisome in a hurry. (Yup, I'm single, so???)

Fanning and the other kid who played her brother looked so bored and tired that at various scenes they looked like they needed to be roused from stupor to speak their lines. I needn't say more.

The story? It was inserted with needlessly elaborate subplots. The kids’ mother - represented in the book by a slim leg whose foot was shod in a fancy pointed and beribboned black shoe – was fleshed out by Preston and was being pursued by a next-door neighbor played by Baldwin. The movie also sprung an overweight babysitter named Mrs. Kwan. And, not to forget, Preston’s boss who went by the lousy name Mr. Humberfloob - the writers probably thought Dr Seuss’ amazing ability to create very likeable out-of-this-world words rubbed off on them. Not in their wretched lifetime.

What the heck. I thought they needed to stretch the 61-page book of deceptively simple rhymes and eye-catching illustrations into something which was sustainingly entertaining, at the least. The end-product was pathetic, to say the least. The kids' lethargy must've been unconsciouly transmitted to them by the brains behind this lousy movie. The writers could have just as well incorporated other stories in the Cat in the Hat series. See? They could be found in the “I CAN READ IT ALL BY MYSELF" BEGINNER BOOKS. I won’t even discuss the lousy way they rendered the illustrations in the book. These imps messed up real big.

This is a child turning ballistic about the way the masterminds murdered her well-loved character and bedtime companion.

The grownup in me - my brain, I hope - considers Dr Seuss and The Cat in the Hat a classic children’s literature and for it to be rendered with incredible crassness is just so loathsome.

Thank goodness this lousy, lousy movie has not spawned a sequel.

It is really best to follow the advice of Dr Seuss' wise fish:

Make that cat go away!
Tell that cat in the hat
You do not want to play.
He should not be here
He should not be about.
He should not be here
When your mother is out.

The cat, of course, is Myers and the coterie of directors, scriptwriters and cinematographers responsible for this horror of a movie.

Catching Mishka

2005-09-27T11:23:00.000+08:00

I have my own SIGNED copy now, of course, but more than three weeks after that blessed day, I still remember the funny incident attached to the autographed copy of Mishka’s cd in my hands.

It was August 31. I was with friends on our way to Belle’s going-away dinner when I received an SMS from James. Mishka was going to have a free miniconcert and cd-signing in a couple of days. What could I say other than the word free doing it in for me? I didn’t need to be wheedled.

September 2, the big day, came and I was still wrestling with James about cutting my driving lessons short so I could catch Mishka at 6pm. Well, there was no other way. And what about James? He cut his working time short so he could catch Mishka at 6pm. :-P

My driving instructor, fully aware of my plan, was so caught up he didn’t notice that we had to park by 5:30pm. Out of desperation, I broached the idea of him dropping me off in front of Tower Records at Glorietta. It was a no-brainer.

Running late, the MRT would bridge the gap between Point A and Point B the quickest. You could never guess, Bloggie, how fast I sprinted to the train station. Inside the coach, I was unmindful of the hot eyes surreptitiously eyeing my cell phone. James was letting me know how miserably late I was for the show. When the cabin door finally opened at the Ayala station, I made a mad dash out. You could never guess, Bloggie, my struggle as I bumped each person who sort of got in my way. I was right smack in the maddening rush hour traffic. Just great!

I reached Tower Records almost in a daze, failing to even comb my hair. Then I heard the familiar strains of God Bless the Child. It led me to the basement. The owner of the voice was indeed there, so young yet so very good at what she was doing. My bubble dream burst when James, his right hand covering his nose, blurted out, “Ang lakas naman ng pabango mo!” I didn’t care. At least a few spritz of Lacoste Pour Femme prevailed over the fumes, dust, and smoke which kept me company as I waded through the sea of humanity just to get to the venue.

After the show, I bought a copy of Mishka’s cd. I was not particularly proud of the cd being spanking new but then I thought it would be eternally insulting to present her with an unmarked copy – courtesy of James - for her to sign? Got it, got it?

With the cd on hand, I queued up for Mishka’s autograph. Hopeless shutterbug that I am, I brought along my digital camera to sort of immortalize the moment. When my turn came, I made her write my nickname before she wrote her dedication. You understand, Bloggie, that I have one of the trickiest nicknames on the planet. Yes siree, I spelled it out for her! I felt so cheap. Again, I didn’t care.

The affair finally wound up but James and I lingered some more. Why? She was still there! Poor James, I dragged him to where Mishka was sitting. I managed some incoherent ramblings that somehow fashioned themselves into a request to have another shot taken with her. She obliged.

I finally let up. Thirty seconds of her voice and a few photos were enough.

I couldn’t remember being so star-struck…well, there was the Sharon Cuneta incident back when I was doing the audit of a certain movie outfit.

But Mishka’s not even a pop star for crying out loud.

I promise to high heavens that I will restrain myself just please let me see and hear her perform again before I fly to Marrakech*. I promise NOT to be late, come what may.

* Marrakech is USA. Sorry. Dreams. :)

Grand musings on grandmommy

2005-09-01T08:00:00.000+08:00

I don’t know what it is with orchids and garden plants that makes me want to wake up early in the morning to water them. As far as I know, the only thing that can effectively rouse me from slumber at an ungodly hour is a toss-up between finishing work-related deadline (i.e., the kind where the knife is about to drop, get it?) and catching a ride for the much-awaited out-of-town trip.

The exercise takes all of two hours. No kidding. And it does not get better. Each time I look, the pots feel like they’re going to crack from the weight of overgrown orchids and flowering plants, meaning, we will have to transfer the outgrowth to new pots yet again. It is a never-ending cycle; has always been this way for more years than I care to count. But no one seems to mind. Surely not me, more assuredly not my Inang. Gardening keeps her hale and healthy.

My main point on watering the plants is that it is always followed by an invariably lively morning talk with Inang over the usual fare of hotdogs, bacon, butter, strawberry jam, pandesal and coffee. This quasi-ritual I have come to enjoy over time, if only to tell me over and over again how resilient, courageous, revered, and funny Inang is, all at the same time. Possibly without her being aware of it, I have come to know, value and love her more because of this.

For one, because of her, I now know how I am related to my neighbor-cousins. Ours is one circuitous tree, if there ever was one - what with ancient stepmothers, half-brothers and half-sisters among the branches. Now, do I remember the fruits of the tree and the branch to which they belong? Come to think of it, at 87, Inang truly has a remarkably sharp memory.

Then, there are always these people who drop by from time to time to consult her on issues ranging from the mundane to those heavy enough to split a close-knit clan. For some reason, her advice seem to weigh a lot to them.

On another note, she is a one-woman charitable institution. I know a lot of people come to her to borrow money. She gives and gives even if at times she knows that the money is good as gone as soon as it leaves her hand. While at it, I also remember some hired hands who took advantage of her generosity and gullibility. She says it’s always better to give than to receive. I’ve known it since kindergarten but more than two decades later, the lesson still begs for my full appreciation, understanding and application. If anything, I guess I got the ‘gullible strain’ from her, of all things.

Still on another note, every time she cooks lunch or dinner for relatives, everyone turns up. It might be because she is, I think, the oldest in the clan. But then again, it might have more to do with the food spread on the table which, although mostly consisting of more or less the same fare each and every time, taste really, really, really good.

She just has this idiosyncracy that is truly her own and one that never fails to drive me off the wall.

She has this costly habit of reordering and/or changing things. By things, I mean any area of the house ranging from the garden, the kitchen, the bedrooms...or the house itself. It’s like this: after commissioning work to rework the kitchen, she somehow finds something lacking or wrong with it several months later. Rework on top of rework. You have to thank the heavens if the structure remains untouched after one year.

There are other equally fascinating incidents which I cannot quite remember in detail any longer. I just hope I have absorbed the lesson well, like the food I eat everyday. I mean, I don’t remember what I ate last month or last week but I’m sure I had my fill and it is now part of who, what and how I am. That kind of thing. :-P

p.s.

belive me, bloggie, when i say that as of today, a couple of hired hands are banging away at the back of the house to relocate the kitchen sink and the cupboard.

oh well.

It's in the stars...and stripes III - The new recruit?

2005-05-19T19:55:00.000+08:00

27 April 2005

This time around, I didn’t wear my kinda ‘lucky’ uniform for the interview.* Instead, I had on a dull grey blouse under a no-frills black pantsuit. Bland and so ho-hum, the combo was just perfect! I only needed to summon that deadpan, dead serious face skilled number crunchers liked to put on when coming face to face with their similarly unreadable clients. But no, I won’t go that far. That was not me, anyway. I intended to remain cool and cheery even under extreme pressure from the looming roasting and grilling I was about to go through.

In the guise of going out for another client assignment, I disappeared from my work area a good two hours from the 3:30 pm interview. I went to Raquel’s area on another floor and dumped my laptop in her locker. I would just come back for it later.

By this time, I was trying to feign an appearance of calm and confidence. If Raquel only knew that my knees were practically shaking….

PwC office was just across the street. Having ample time, I managed to walk leisurely.

Angela was there, in the flesh, to welcome me. She was very warm and congenial. I liked her in an instant.

After some time, the moment arrived. Angela introduced me to Haresh from PwC-San Jose and Pete from PwC-Washington.

The interview with Haresh had gone well, I think, precisely because he didn’t ask a lot of questions. He was more like a father reciting a list of to-do’s for her daughter who was about to be sent off to a university in a faraway state. I was just nodding the whole time. :)

Pete was a different story altogether. First off, he had this eerie resemblance to David Caruso of CSI – Miami! And his eyes were rather piercing, like, “you cannot hide anything from me”. Get the picture? On top of that, he ushered me to sit beside him! It was such an unusual arrangement.

Initially, the atmosphere was rather formal but as the discussion wore on, with myself meeting his gaze the whole time, I just found myself getting comfortable with him. He was pleasantly surprised on some nitty-gritties I squeezed in my CV. I was silently thankful that he noticed them. J After that, everything was a breeze. I was not even asked a single technical question! No SOX, or US GAAP vs IAS vs IFRS, etc. Thank heavens for that. I was visibly relieved and I thought he saw it. But I didn’t give a damn. I think this, too, went well. He said they’d definitely get in touch in two weeks. He even gave me his business card. :)

I didn’t get burned, just lightly ‘grilled’ and ‘roasted’. Just the way I like it. :)

I didn’t come back to the office, instead, I went straight to Pacific Coffee for a shot of cappuccino. I needed time alone to absorb what I initially thought was a thoroughly delightful incident.

Then suddenly, in the middle of the hustle and bustle of what I could see were similarly situated yuppies musing about the good life this city supposedly owed them, I found myself asking if going to the US was what I really, really wanted.

It was so not in my plans, wasn’t it?

The thought was potentially treacherous…

But the interview… the interview went great, didn’t it?

* I have this office uniform from my previous employer which I wore a couple of times in a couple of final interviews for two different companies on two separate occasions. In both instances, I got hired.

It's in the stars...and stripes II - Build me up...buttercup?

2005-05-11T18:58:00.000+08:00

Shoot for the moon. Even if you miss, you'll land among the stars. - Les Brown

21 April 2005

It was exactly two weeks before I saw Angela’s name in my mail again.

I would be interviewed on 27 April for a possible assignment in San Francisco, San Jose or Los Angeles. With the email came the perfunctory employment application that I need to fill up and bring to the interview.

Angela informed me that should the stars be in my favor, I would be granted a full H1B visa sponsorship for an October 2005 start date. This last line did it for me.

Once again, the dam broke loose. A torrent of thoughts and images fought for space in my brain. Having been let loose, my mind was slowly but progressively rendering reality as I knew and lived it as nothing more than an illusion.

Goodness. My imagination was already shooting for the moon. To think that I still had to hurdle the interview.

So God help me.

It's in the stars...and stripes I - The accident that was most welcome

2005-05-10T17:14:00.000+08:00

I have always believed that all things depended upon Fortune, and nothing upon ourselves. -George Gordon Byron

7 April 2005

I was rushing out of our office building to eat a late lunch when I literally bumped into Jean. I didn’t recognize him from afar.*

He not so much as yanked my right arm, led me into a corner and showed me a letter he received from PwC-US stating that they’d be scheduling an interview with him when they come over to visit Singapore from 27 – 29 April to scour for foreign talents (read: OCWs!!!).

Hmmm, I didn’t know that. Nobody told me they were actually coming over. In any case, working in the USA didn’t quite figure in the equation of my dream-in-progress, if there ever was one. :)

After showing me what could be his ticket to greener pastures, he made me promise not to squeal on this happy development. Not just yet, anyway. Sure.

While he was into it, he said I should also give it a shot and send my CV to Angela, his contact in PwC-US. Sure.

I almost forgot about that meeting with Jean had I not ran into his name in my Inbox as I was searching for my client’s email. I don’t know what came over me then but I just found myself stopping midway from what I was doing. I hurriedly opened my CV and updated it. I neither cared to glance at the revisions nor did I think up a neat cover letter. In thirty minutes flat, my CV was on its way to poor, unsuspecting Angela. A few minutes after clicking on the Send button, I realized I only remembered Angela’s email address from memory, I mean, I just saw it from the email Jean showed me.

That was 6 April.

The following day, I received an email from her telling me that she was scheduling me for an interview sometime between 27 - 29Apr!

It was kinda fast. I was kinda thrilled! Honestly, I had doubts on my chances at the outset. I thought I was too late. Apparently, I made it just in time.

I debated with my neurotic self on whether I should tell a handful of friends about the very promising event. I mean, what if, after all the excitement, I didn’t make the cut?

In the end I did tell them as I knew they’d always be there whatever the outcome of the upcoming interview might be.

* How could I? Burdened as I am with nearsightedness, I still stubbornly refuse to wear a pair of eyeglasses or contact lenses.

PG chronicles III - Seizing the day

2005-05-01T22:48:00.000+08:00

Carpe diem is an obscure Latin phrase I always associate with Dead Poets Society. I think it means living life to the fullest and getting the most out of each day.

Well, in true seize-the-day fashion, our second day at PG was marked by loads of activities and unexpected encounters which I could choose to view in two opposing perspectives - one of bragging rights (yeah, yeah) or one of dreadful panic.

7am

We barely managed to get up for the snorkeling adventure over at San Antonio beach. But once there, our normally lethargis selves got all worked up as we viewed the amzzing view from under water. Johnne and I even spotted a school of fish, their graceful and uniform movement taking our breath away. How could they do that, move in unison? It boggles the mind. Like a flock of seagulls...jonathan livingston seagull...i am digressing.

I found out that my new friend Anthony conducts diving lessons. Wonderful! Now I know who to contact in case the 'itch' to dive becomes unbearable. :P

2pm

Having been sufficiently toasted by the sun, we called it a day by 12 noon, freshened up and headed to Traveller's Delight for some major pig out session. I do not know if it was because we were soo hungry or the food just really tasted great. Hunger tends to distort your judgment, you know.

4pm

Totally let down upon knowing that there was no money changer in the *^%$# place, we contemplated on our bleak future. Our saviour cum saints of perpetual help were anthony and phoebe. Bless them. Our mood literally turned from dark to grey...errr...bright, bright...whatever. We were ecstatic. Or was it just me?

6pm

We assembled at the beach to do Banana boatride. Was it fun! We must have given Manong a minor case of heart attack as we vigorously shook the boat until it capsized. It was pitch dark, maybe well past 7pm, dear bloggie. Poor Manong. You could really see him struggling as he took stock of the juvenile delinquents that were his passengers. Fun! :-P

10pm

Of course, we were eternally hungry. So we ate at Nikita Dining (I think). Then, it was time. No trip to Galera was complete without the notoriuos Minodro Sling. So it was basically Gina and I who were downing the pitcher. Anthony added bottles of cheap vodka in the mix. As the night wore on, only Gina and I remained standing. It was also good as we were in too deep with girl talk.

2am

Then, a couple of Super Dry landed on our tables which, according to the gay waiter (waitress?) was courtesy of two foreigners sitting somewhere within our field of vision. Goodness, did we look like some sweet painted ladies???? Before we could protest further, who would took a seat but one of them white men. Gina immediately called JM to rescue us. Understand that we still managed to keep our cool surface under the circumstances.

230am

JM took us to his former groupmates in JCC over at the other side of the beach. By this time, I was a little light-headed but definitely sane. JM introduced us to the guys and girls. There was one tall guy, though, who kept talking to me and even managed to get my number. I thought that was the end of it. Anyway, I was getting bored, sleepy and woozy so I pleaded for coffee.

330am

After a round of black coffee, JM accompanied us to our cottage for the much needed shuteye. I heard my phone beep. It was the tall guy we met at the beach. What was he saying???? For all I know he must have been cross-eyed and sufficiently soused way before he met us for him to be saying these...whatever. I needed to sleep.

PG chronicles II - The 9:40 am/pm brouhaha

2005-04-30T23:59:00.000+08:00

I told them my flight was on 30 April at 9:40am. They thought 9:40am was the plane’s touchdown at NAIA.

The moment I turned my phone on, I got a call from Gina. It turned out they - Johnee, Jannette and Gina - endured additional three hours waiting for me. I was so unaware of their ordeal.

What a total blunder!

After hurriedly packing our things in Johnne’s home, we boarded a cab that would take us to the bus terminal in Buendia. By 5:00pm, Johnee, JM, Jannette, Gina and I were neatly tucked in our seats as the bus began its bumpy ride going to Batangas port.

It was roughly 8:00pm when we reached the port. Thankfully, there was one last boat going to Puerto Galera. The five of us, plus the other five guys the boatmen fished from somewhere, were herded to a jeep that would take us to the dock where the our precious boat was anchored.
It was pitch dark but we were determined to reach White Beach so we were not deterred. I found out from JM that it was illegal for small boats to go out to sea at night. Thus, the absence of a single light on the boat! It felt real creepy but I was not the least bit jittery. I was, in fact, so happy. I dunno if I shared this strange excitement with anyone from my group. My urbane, proper and genteel friends were deafeningly quiet. Could they be praying for our safety?
Oddly enough, we felt that the boat was ‘moonwalking’, like, we were not moving. The lighthouse remained a dot in the horizon. I shut my eyes and silently uttered a prayer. A real adventure, this trip was turning out to be.

What should take an hour from Batangas port to White Beach took our boat close to two hours to navigate. I wondered if the boat did moonwalk…

We arrived at White Beach at 9:40pm, famished but quite relieved that the trip was over.
It was good that Gina booked a nice place for us. We dumped our bags, freshened up a bit, locked the door and went out to score some nice food. Get a little drunk, probably???

This night, we would find out, saw the biggest turnout of people yet. Good!

We managed to find our little space, settled down on the sand and immediately ordered - what else! - Mindoro sling. We just watched as the merry melee of younger and more daring crowd showed their moves on the dance floor..err..sand. Some gal even sent the entire male population whooping as she literally showed her wares.

With that, we called it a night. We had to. It was already 3am!!!

p.s.

what i went through just to make my wish come true:

plane from Singapore to NAIA – car from NAIA to Johnne’s home – cab from Johnne’s home to Buendia bus terminal going to Batangas port – bus from Buendia to Batangas port – jeep from the port to the dock – boat from the dock to White Beach!

if there's a 'wheel', there's a way. :)

PG chronicles I - thank God for friends!

2005-04-29T18:49:00.000+08:00

But friendship is precious, not only in the shade, but in the sunshine of life; and thanks to a benevolent arrangement of things, the greater part of life is sunshine. Thomas Jefferson

By all accounts, it seemed like The Great Escape to Pagudpud was a resounding Go! Everyone was excited. Except me. I was ecstatic! I was timing my short visit to coincide with this much-anticipated event.

But, as fickle as a fashionista’s fashion sense, everyone suddenly had other prior commitments as the days to the Great Escape drew near.

Just like that.

Did they not know that going to the beach meant the world to me at this time? I was so desperate to break away from the pressure of work.

But I know there was no use forcing my case on them.

Like a selfish, inconsolable crybaby, I whined my cares away on Gina and Jannette.

Ever ready, Gina said we could squeeze ourselves with her friends who were off to Puerto Galera on those days. She would take care of the accommodation.

Jannette called long distance and committed Johnne and herself to go with us. She insisted on fetching me from the airport so we need not bother my parents. She offered her apartment.

I was utterly shameless and I knew it. But of course, characteristically they would hear nothing of it. For them, it was all part of friendship.

To be loved by friends like that! :)

I knew things were really looking up from here.

out of the (match)box

2005-04-29T11:14:00.000+08:00

i have been a fan of matchboxtwenty for the longest time.

i have all of their albums - yourself or someone like you, mad season and more than you think you are.

i can say with certainty that i like all of their songs, no exceptions. they tell stories of love, loss and of life and how to live it. i can go on and wax poetic about how i like the lyrics and everything but i know i risk sounding tacky and second-rate.

i like rob thomas and his voice. angsty is how i would describe it. for some reason, and like maroon5's adam levine, listening to him sing is enough to jumpstart my typically humdrum day. and it doesn't hurt that he was once considered one of the fifty most beautiful people walking on the planet. not bad. he rocks. period.

my question is why did rob thomas think out of the (match)box and leave his bandmates? if not for yahoo, i would not have known that he is striking it out on his own via his something to be album.

of course i have the cd. i am currently listening to the 8th track and it is kinda hard not to think of the pop-rock band for which he has been the lead singer and songwriter since 1998. ever the same and when the heartaches end sound sooo matchboxtwenty. i cannot feel much less hear the difference. i thought lonely no more, although a catchy tune, was a tad too pop and mainstream. well, these are just my thoughts, so...

so why did rob rob matchbox twenty of its heart and soul? i wonder if there is really no turning back for him. that would be sad.

grey area

2005-04-21T09:54:00.000+08:00

************************************************************************************
i knew it was coming.

i should get going by this time and make myself 'useful' but i don't want to. not yet.

this conversation with two dear friends, initially about something so simple as deciding what to do with my time during my short visit, has veered into the 'touchy' topic once again.

as usual, when it concerns the status of my lovelife (ugh!), we usually end up talking and debating about these two guys. but technically, if there ever are technicalities involved in the ever-confusing art of relationship, the other guy should be out of the equation because i do not see the two of us ever swerving from the friendship track. but as usual, and because i am outnumbered, according to them, what this guy and i have is enough reason to qualify for some discussion and dissection.

sometimes i just want to cut myself off from all form of communication and pretend i totally don't know these guys from adam. but it just takes one text, email or ym message and i am reminded once again of their existence. other times, i think i am overthinking, that there is really nothing there. nada. i try to play it cool but i know both my dear friends know that i am not ever going to get used to this 'art'. ever.

in truth, i am getting tired of being in this running-around-without-getting-anywhere state. maybe part of it is self-inflicted. maybe, maybe not.

gosh, i better stop.

in the end, as long as friends like them are there, i'll be fine. everything else be damned.

************************************************************************************************

i guess a lot of things are bound to happen when i go home for a short visit.

in the meantime, i better go.

************************************************************************************************

p.s.

let it be known to me (for future reference, hahaha) that i had second thoughts about posting this blog. but whadda heck.

so gina, if ever you are gonna comment on this one, don't do it here, please? email me instead. :)))

di elibs sa eLeave :))

2005-04-19T16:27:00.000+08:00

Summer is the time when one sheds one's tensions with one's clothes,
and the right kind of day is jeweled balm for the battered spirit.
A few of those days and you can become drunk with the belief
that all's right with the world.

The thing with our very own eLeave is that it is self-approving, meaning, you apply and approve your own leave. The HRD absolutely believes it's a very smart idea and that we should be grateful since it's like saying that the powers-that-be are letting you take charge of your time, however way you want to spend it.

Of course the first time I heard it, and probably owing to my (almost) chronic distrust to accept things at face value, I didn't believe it for a second. There has got to be a catch-22 somewhere...

I found out when I applied for leave last year.

As it turned out, my immediate superior/s, Admin Manager and Group secretary would be simultaneously notified, thru email, that I was about to ditch my job for a teeny-weeny while so could they give me this break or else... That is the catch. Another 'trick' of the trade.

From where I stand, our seemingly 'smart' eLeave is nothing more than an electronic version of the old, used-to-be-manual form that snakes its way up the the 'proper' channels before finally being determined that, yes, I deserve a temporary break from permanent servitude.

Okay, I've had my fill of daily ranting.

Hmm...why did I end up raging against the machine, ooops!, establishment when I was going for a happy post because I have just applied for and approved (they should go together!!!) a one-week leave once again? I should be happy.

I am happy! :)

can't wait to buy my plane ticket.
of course, sunscreen, beachwear, dresses for my nieces.
something for my parents.
etc. etc. etc. etc. etc. etc.

hmm..my parents. i will be returning to Singapore with them! :)))

hopelessly lost in translation

2005-04-18T18:57:00.000+08:00

first off, let me just say that i am, and will never, pretend to be an authority in grammar, phraseology, diction, etc. because i am not. it's just that sometimes, you get completely stumped by the way some people put into writing what they perceive are unmistakably coherent thoughts.

i have been staring at this email for the longest time but i still cannot decipher what it means. i am close to giving up. for chrissakes, i am not a cryptologist.

******************************************************************************
______________________________________
From: Staff (SG/AG3)
Sent: 18/04/2005 8:06 AM
To: Me (SG/AG3)
Subject: ISI and IAH

Hi ******(my name here),

This is the latest version by add in the Kamille's apologies on found the share certificate.
******************************************************************************

i think this one beats everything in terms of twisting my brain senseless trying to decode the words. no kidding, she wants me to decode the words!!!

for the record, i think i have let pass variations of this 'murder' (forgive me, bloggie, but i am really kinda floored by this entry). most times, i find humor in it, sometimes i think it's cute.

but this one???

does it ever have to come to this? do i actually have to 'crack the code' for scraps of meaning embedded somewhere in these pile of words?

sometimes i wish i were one of dan brown's incomparably clever characters.

help!

back on the friendship track

2005-04-14T22:15:00.000+08:00

Friendship consists in forgetting what one gives, and remembering what one receives.

Back in high school, I knew that she was one person who was for keeps.

It came automatically. This 'for keeps' thing is so juvenile and as tacky as the entries in the ubiquitous high school slumbook go, but hey, I meant it.

I thought she made a lot of sense. I thought she understood me more than anyone else. It was just a pity we got to know each other in our senior year. Nonetheless, when it was time to say goodbye, we promised to keep in touch, no matter what.

Then again, growing up meant growing apart.

I forgot about high school and got too busy trying to grow up. Too busy, I guess, that we lost touch.

But I guess I could not escape high school even if I wanted to. There were the weddings, christening, house blessings and all sorts of milestones in the lives of people who once graced the pages of my own slumbook to keep me reminded. Yeah, I used to have one, so? :)

Anyway, these events always triggered memories of yesteryears and made me wonder whatever happened to those few precious friends I had then...whatever happened to Etta?

God bless whoever created yahoogroups. Someone from high school managed to track me down, asked for my email addy and the rest was history. All too suddenly, we became current...well, except for the faces I associate the names with. I wondered aloud how they looked now and what they made of their own good lives. It turned out everyone was on the same line of thought.

So we met up. And there was Etta! :) Needless to say, we chatted endlessly. When it was time to go, we promised never to lose touch. This time, the pledge was for keeps. Why, we are grown-ups and grown-ups have supposedly outgrown their erratic ways by now, keeping promises included. :))

Now, I am chatting away with her.

It feels so good talking to her because I can tell her everything. And I mean everything. I can write kilometric lines and she gets it. No matter is too trivial or unimportant to her. And each time, her riposte is so funny I sometimes forget my oh-so-important issues.

She is the reason why I write this blog, to thank her for just being there.

I never imagined just being there could mean so much.

amazing!

2005-04-07T17:54:00.000+08:00

I just realize that I am talking, no, exchanging emails, with friends from different corners of the world. Right about now.

I particularly envy Lotta, a dear friend from high school. She has been in Switzerland since December doing SAP work. Of course, we do not discuss work (duh). We have totally nothing in common in that respect, anyway. Now, why do I envy her? It's the more-than-picture-perfect pictures and the totally exciting places she has been to eversince she was assigned there. Side by side, Singapore and Switzerland has totally nothing in common other than having S as initials.

Then there's this guy-friend who is on secondment in the U.K. He is from JCC. We just basically talk about nothing and anything. Anyway, he was able to convince me to try my luck there as the rest of Friday Club peeps are also interested in migrating there, with Supremo leading the pack. Let's see. I now realize I am not too sure if I want to relocate there. It's so far from home.

Still, there's Jenray, also from JCC. She is in Dubai. She seems to be enjoying herself immensely. She sez Pinays are 'mabenta' over there. Hahaha.

Awhile ago, I was chatting with Nette, another very good friend from JCC. Recently married and happily settled somewhere in the US of A, she has this way of always, always segueing into my lovelife or the lack of it. Hmmm...I might do a recording one day just so I would not repeat my standard reply over and over again until further notice, thank you. :)) (Not that there is totally no lovelife to speak of....I better shut up regarding this one...)

Amazing. ;->

One...Two...Three...Action!

2005-04-03T21:14:00.000+08:00

Yup, take two

I looked back at what I posted on THE day. It was kinda sad and I hated it. I don’t want to remember my first birthday in Merlion country that way. No way, highway.

I was just so out of whack at that time because of some viral infection my doctor over here couldn’t quite identify. I couldn’t believe my ears when she intimated that I might have contracted dengue fever (!!!!!!) in KL. I would have objected and ruled that the rain did it on me, as I have proven countless times but she just kept rambling on and on I chose to shut my mouth. But dengue????? So utterly terrifying, don’t you think? But that’s another story.

I was in fact happy. A lot of my dear friends buzzed in, sent their kisses and said they missed me. Good. :) And those few dear friends who seemed to have forgotten? I made sure they remember. :))

The food? It was nothing fancy. I got myself the requisite cake and ice cream. And pasta in pesto sauce. The first two items were courtesy of a couple of newfound friends who somehow got wind of the fact that it was my birthday. (Until now, I haven’t told my friends here about my birthday. I’m quite shy. Yeah, right.) The third one was on me. Of course! :) If I told you these are a few of my favorite things, then they would have been enough to keep me grinning from ear to ear, my lousy state notwithstanding.

After four days

No dengue or anything remotely resembling the scary diagnosis (?) of my doctor, thank God.
I remember I promised Raya, a cousin who is in town to visit her hubby, that we’d go out on my birthday provided I wasn’t busy and she’d bring Twichie with her. Also, I want to check out how Jonah, a friend’s younger sister, is getting by with her new job here. Another thing, my brother-in-law has just arrived from a long vacation.

And yes, the icing on my cake was delivered one fine Friday morning, 31 March, in the form of an announcement by our partners that an ex-gratia equivalent to our full month’s salary would be credited to our account on a glorious Saturday, 1 April. The fact that they had no prior ‘warning’ of the news that it totally blew me away. Happiness. :))

Considering the godsend windfall, I am ready to burn a few hard-earned dollars to treat them. Hah! They can name the place for all I care. :))

Thank goodness Raya and Jonah have no idea yet where to go that they just pointed to the restaurant beside our meeting place. Mid-range, so totally within my means. :)

We dine at Crystal Jade Restaurant and stuffed ourselves silly. The pictures prove it.

Considering the absence of sickness and the more-than-pleasantly-surprising bonus, I am truly thankful.

Chasing happy ever after

2005-03-31T10:51:00.000+08:00

WHAT is a whirlwind romance? Can it be considered an offshoot of true love? What is its rate of success? Surely, there must have been some credible, definitive and - of course! - scholarly study about this type of relationship.

RELATIONSHIPS, of the whirldwind variety or otherwise, tend to end up either in the blind alley of Coupledom Wasteland or in the happy-ever-after Wonderland anyway, so...

SO. I am not a Carrie Bradshaw wannabe who, by the way, is my favorite character. Bless her sense of style. I am digressing...

I am serious about my question, though. And the adjectives? Sure.

MY dear cousin, Mia, just got married yesterday to a guy she barely knows. Think one week. Think Imelda Papin!

WHAT happened in that one short week? Holy Week at that. This question I asked Big Sister, Small Sister and Ria, Mia's younger sister. I got different answers. Not surprising, really, considering the turn of events that unfolded at lightning speed.

BIG Sister: This guy, Marcel, just came back from the US to observe the Holy Week. He met and befriended Mia. Poor guy. Mia made him join her and the rest of the horde of worshippers walk every single street of town on Good Friday. By the time the procession ended, I think Mia had also ended her novena and the poor guy, sweating profusely even after guzzling four mineral water bottles, proposed and, that's it, they were engaged...Tita's (Mia's nanay) reaction? She would not get in the way of what the new couple wanted...Don't ask further...Until now, Tatay is asking me if this is all true. We're already heading to the Mayor's office, Bianchi is all dolled up in her yellow princess dress and he's still asking if all this is true? Here, talk to him. Don't forget your medicines.

SMALL Sister: Mia put one over us. We're older than her, remember??? How could she do this?...Yes, to the story. Well, this Marcel has a twin brother (TB)...Why call him TB?...OK. Anyway, these twins are the sons of Imee, Tita's best friend from way back. TB, we found out, is in fact Mia's email buddy of sort...Why the mix-up? I dunno. Strange things happen, perhaps?...Don't ask. No one seems to be asking. And everyone seems happy, see?...Yeah, wish you were here...I haven't met him so I can't tell you what he looks like. Hey, talk to you later, ok? I gotta find Eggmeg. Bye. Mwah.

RIA: Mia and I were being paired with these guys way before. Imee said she wanted either of us to marry either one of her sons...Yes, just like that. I said I already have a boyfriend. So she turned to Mia...Yes, one week...Mia sez he's nice and kind...Uhm, I also dunno how it started but yesterday they went to the US Embassy to declare Mia as Marcel's fiancee...I dunno how they managed to do all that, including arranging for this civil wedding at a very short notice. But his family has lots of connections, so...I dunno how they're gonna do it. Mia is having her period right now. Hahaha...Imee wanted Mama (Tita) to go to the US also. It's kinda weird. She also said that if it should happen that Mia didn't like Marcel anymore, she could end the marriage, no problem. She could even live in the house in the US if she still wanted to...I dunno. OK, have to go. I think Mama is looking for me. Take care, ok?

AFTER talking to them, the thoughts swirling in my head while absorbing the fantastic event seem to dissipate. I now find myself with so much less to say. In fact, they are reduced to two words:

LIFE happens.

WAIT... I am fighting the urge to say a lot more things, more out of concern for Mia than anything, but my mind is telling me to just take the situation as it is.

IN love, no one can harm anyone else. We are each of us responsible for our own feelings and cannot blame someone else for what we feel and for what we have become because of that.

So, amidst the madness, comedy, misplaced feelings and even deceptive motives, I wish Mia and Marcel a life of
blissful togetherness.

Cheers!

p.s.

the following lines are a fitting end to this episode.

profound desire, true desire is the desire to be close to someone. from that point on, things change, the man and the woman come into play, but what happens before - the attraction that brought them together - is impossible to explain.

when desire is still in its purest state, the man and the woman fall in love with life, they live each moment reverently, consciously, always ready to celebrate the next blessing.

when people feel like this, they are not in a hurry, they do not precipitate events with unthinking actions. they know that the inevitable will happen, that what is real always finds a way of revealing itself. when the moment comes, they do not hesitate, they do not miss an opportunity, they do not let slip a single magic moment, because they respect the importance of each second.

*sigh* *sigh* *sigh*

one. two.. three...

2005-03-29T16:30:00.000+08:00

hApPy bIrThDaY tO mE!!!

p.s.
i am sick. i am home alone. enough said.

Pops is not telling a lie

2005-03-05T15:31:00.000+08:00

When the solution is simple, God is answering. --Albert Einstein

Just when I thought I would not see the light of day...
HE is in charge. Why do I need to be always reminded?

I thought I needed more than luck, blood, sweat and tears to carry me through this extraordinarily hectic week (for the record: feb 28 - mar 4. there.).

I got all the deadlines down pat (you should see my diary). I had scheduled the client calls I needed to make. Of course if I called them, you could bet your last cent that they would volley questions back to my homecourt so I likewise made allowances for that. Check. Then I had to play big sister to my overly proactive underlings who ask questions ranging from the splendidly smart to the terrribly duh.

Oh. My. Gosh. How, how, how could I breathe? Even if I gave up a couple of hours of shuteye everyday (from this day forward so heaven help me), I knew I needed something that resembled a miracle to finish ALL of these *#*"* stuff in time.

On top of these, I was particularly bothered by two items:

(1) Some client said that the reporting package attached to the main report we sent to our counterpart in Zurich was - horrors!!!! – not the updated version. What???? What would I tell the partner then? How could I convince him to sign another fax telling Zurich about this inexcusable blunder??? Oh dear. I couldn't breathe...

(2) Another client was following up on the draft annual report. Fair enough. Fieldwork ended first week of Feb anyway. But where do I start, pray tell? It’s a totally different ballgame here. Out-and-out DIY.

I had one manager for both (1) and (2) who left without so much as an adieu. Pfftt! Just like that. When I asked our secretaries if someone would take over her post, they said the partners said I could probabaly manage these NEW engagements. Thank you. What does NEW mean? No prior year files to copy from, no prior year financial statements patterned after my firm’s template. No prior year everything. And I am a NEWbie, did they overlook that fact?

Does Hercules have a female counterpart??? Did she become a saint? I could probably burn incense in front of her image, let the smoke rise up to the heavens to rouse her from slumber and rescue me from this fix. Quick!

I honestly thought my neck would be on the block. The idea, though, didn’t seem so morbid to me if I considered the imminent ire I would probably earn from the partners.

Deal with them I did, frightened as I was about the outcome...and the backlash, needless to say. I just prayed. Period. Didn’t know what else to do.

(1) I was afraid of checking the numbers and found the client’s accusation to be true. I only remembered checking and re-checking the figures because I was reporting directly to our partner….Well, what do you know? The reporting package we sent to Zurich was correct! My underling just mistakenly stamped the unpdated version and gave it straight to the client without my knowledge. ( I would deal with him later). I, on the other hand, downloaded the updated version, printed a copy, stamped it, attached it to the report, had it signed by our partner, and, finally, sent the signed copy to the Zurich people. Whew.

(2) I - I was basically left alone to finish this, remember??? - promised the client we’d forward the draft report first week of March. Then our secretary informed me that they just added some clients to my existing portfolio. Wow. My schedules had just gone from manageable to plainly absurd...and then there's this new client...how???? Well, what do you know? By some stroke of luck, our partner on this engagement went to China on business and would not be back ‘til 10 March. I had a way out! In short, I was able to buy some more time. That was truly a close call.

What can I say? I have proven time and time again that HE somehow always makes things right just when I thought things were so totally beyond my control and I had no way out.

I am grateful. The worrywart can breathe normally again. Well, until the next onslaught...i am so hopeless sometimes.

But I don’t care what happens tomorrow. I just survived a ****** week!!!

x's : pops? fernandez. GOD is good, all the time. sounds familiar? yes. :))

kumusta na?

2005-02-17T23:47:00.000+08:00

wow, matagal na pala akong walang bagong balita. hindi ko man lang napansin na mahigit dalawang buwan na pala akong walang...ahhhh...nasasabi. hay, ang hirap pala magsulat ng maayos na filipino (tagalog o filipino...ewan). waahhhh...

i give up.

well, i just want to say hi. yeah, just for the sake of adding another post in my archive. hahaha.

i can not think of what to say at the moment. but yes, really, i just want to say hi. it is not that nothing much has happened or is happening.

i have a confession to make:

...the truth is I FORGOT MY USERNAME AND PASSWORD.

ako talaga, oo. minsan, hindi, madalas, parang ewan.

can you blame me? i can only remember so much usernames and passwords.

pessimistic optimism?

2004-12-15T21:35:00.000+08:00

I find nothing more depressing than optimism. Paul Fussell

My staff just told me I've never looked so happy. Now that’s a thought. At my current state, nothing could be more illogical.

Do I really look like someone who can give those sunshiny Colgate models a run for their money with my supposedly cheerful countenance? I REALLY wonder.

I have put up with fits of dissatisfaction and, yes, wretchedness (not self-inflicted, i believe). All because I promise to be happy with whatever falls upon me.

But gosh. Did they dump a heap on my platter! To think that I felt I already had more than my share.

So okay. I just took a deep breath, recited my all-time favorite mantra (haha) and hoped that everything would still be well. What else could I do???

And reality is sinking in fast. So first things first. Obviously, the added load meant I had to labor plotting my revised - and ever-mounting – timelines and identified to-dos. Now, anyone in my line of work knows how horrendous the remaining unidentified tasks could get. Anyway...when I saw what I did, I felt nothing…nothing like I what felt before. Suffice it to say that when January 2005 comes, I will have to constantly remind myself that breathing is not supposed to require conscious effort. Go figure.

Will it really be THAT BAD?

At the moment, I lose myself in my calendar, coloring December 21 with all the shades of the rAinBow. There is always sunshine after the rain, after all. No matter what. ;->

Virus, part II

2004-11-10T10:35:00.000+08:00

The brain is a wonderful organ. It starts working the moment you get up in the morning, and does not stop until you get into the office. Robert Frost

I was sidetracked by so many things which were beyond my control. I felt I had to vent lest I be consumed by so many negative thoughts running through my head. If you had your dear friends trying vainly not to break down in front of you, it would require superhuman efforts to appease them and say that everything would soon blow over. The better part of me said that I should just shut up. I would not offer much help as I am facing the same issue anyway.

Looks like this nasty virus is rearing its ugly head at me all over again.

I don’t exactly know how to call it. This recurring virus. I will just try my best to describe my condition in detail.

Prognosis: I want to run away again.

History: Before anything else, let me just say that I refuse to admit I was looking through rose-colored glasses when I plunged head-on into this life-changing move. Why, you ask?

1. I knew what I was looking forward to. Been there, done that. 2. Every member of my dearest family never objected to whatever would make me happy. 3. I was sure - and I swear my interviewer turned employer was even surer - it could not get any worse than my previous employments. 4. There were the endless rounds of dinner and coffee with friends of various conviction/persuasion/what-have-you who were one in saying that this opportunity was golden from all angles. What could be better than having a financially rewarding job, right? 5. I thought this break was rather fateful. I was trying mightily to make sense of what was happening between me and some friend at an apparently breakneck speed. I thought this opportunity provided both of us the chance to find out what we really were to each other. (I might have a lot of explaining to do to my dear friends about the last one. Oh well.) There. All accounted for. Nothing could possibly go wrong.

It has been two months now and all I can manage to say is this: reality does shake things up quite a bit. She’s like an uninvited guest that refuses to go away, sneaking in and settling down quickly to rearrange my furniture, then my room and, finally, everything else in plain sight. She is very much into it I should say. If not for some familiar objects, I can certainly say that I am hopelessly lost. In my own home at that. After a series of shock waves, I got used her. I have totally stopped complaining. And therein lies my dilemma. I can’t put my finger on it but I know I am kinda unwell. Each time she leaves, I find myself tired, dazed and often confused.

Symptoms: 1. Initially, I have a lot of good stuff to say about my new job….then, after some time…2. I feel like dragging my feet to work. 3. I have fits of grouchiness. 3. I lose weight notwithstanding my relatively healthy appetite for food (read: chocolates, junk food, etc). 4. I can not focus properly on whatever tasks are at hand. 5. I don’t sleep well. 6. I browse jobstreet and/or jobsdb a lot. 7. I gripe about work to my friends (bless them for bearing with me!). 8. My friends actually find me some good job matches. 9. Most of the time, I get a new job offer.

Yes, it’s my job that’s my reality. I just hope her next visit will be final and one that when she leaves, I am truly happy. (That reminds me of something. Should I be changing my name?)

Prescription: ??????????

virus, part I

2004-10-20T21:08:00.000+08:00

This is a test. It is only a test. Had it been an actual job, you would have received raises, promotions, and other signs of appreciation. Anonymous

This is not good. Four seniors and two associates tendered their resignation today. Uh oh. NOT good. Do I need to ask anyone if something is wrong here??? Is this ‘phenomenon’ an annual thing? In our group???

It doesn’t help at all if you feel like a drowned rat from clocking in more than 18 hours of work a day for the last few days just to produce that all-important four-page report.

As if to assuage our fears, one of our Group partners is dispensing wisdom about work-work balance. You read right, my friend. That’s how I understand his speech. Sacrifice now, reap the rewards later in life. Oh no, please don’t say that THAT will take us 30 years!!!! :(

I fear that at the rate we’re going, we’re all going to break down, one way or another. The working environment is a lot different here. Their 'seriousness' is very palpable you can actually touch it. Yup, this might be the irreverent side of me in full throttle but I can not help what I see. For one, I now fully appreciate the automated/electronic way of doing a lot of things. Saves you time and a great measure of your sanity. Out here, people are obssessed with manual cross-referencing, casting, cross-casting, etc. of files. They have elevated this art to science. And I often find myself freaking out. Well, not only me, there are my ‘pearl of the orient’ friends who know whereof I speak. I mean, does EVERYTHING have to be cross-referred? Yup. Everything has to be filed and in order. At times, I have this twisted feeling that they are more critical than, say, disposing of the issues of our clients. Deadlines be damned but we gotta have the files spic-and-span. Then there’s the manual process of monitoring time and costs chargeable to our clients, as in you have to go through the flip-through-the-thick-folders-then-add-up-the-numbers-for-your-clients process. By the way, the files are sorted per month not per clients, so…

I have a theory for this apparent obssessiveness to the cross-referencing thing. This attitude is simply a microscopic represention of what they really are. They need directions. They need instructions. It is a way of life. They will be lost if you pull out a signpost or two from the road or the MRT stations. Maps are practically everywhere, free for the taking. So that no one gets lost. So that they know where to proceed. I am willing to argue this self-proclaimed theory. :)

Now, this is not what I was initially driving at. Oh well, I guess I gotta keep part II of my confession (my apologies to usher).

whadda...!!!!!

2004-10-09T13:55:00.000+08:00

This piece is in memory of my much-loved jacket which vanished in plain sight several minutes ago.

I distinctly remember it flailing here and there as I rushed off from the mrt to go to breadtalk to buy me some bread. I must tell you that I woke up dreaming of fire floss, thus, my resolve to have it before I subject myself to another day of hard labor (at the office, that's where).

I was quite fast I reached the store in one minute flat. I took a quick look at my trusty old jacket. It was still there. Fine. As usual, I was greeted by the delicious smell of yummy breads in all shapes and sizes. I went to the left side of the kinda v-shaped store precisely because that was where I saw the heavenly fire floss. I was so caught up on deciding which ones had the most toppings I didn’t notice my treasured possession slipped away from my bag. I rushed to the counter at the junction a few feet away and waited for the lady to leave as she had already paid for her loot. I reached for my bag to take out my wallet. Then it hit me. The jacket was gone. Unfazed, I took a few steps back and craned my neck to scan the left side of the store where I’d been. Nothing there. Who the f*^%^*# took it? And by golly, why? It was relatively worn out, for one.

The whole incident happened in only under six minutes and the place was not even packed with hungry wolves, er, people yet. There were just three or four other ladies there so…. Whatever. I still couldn’t accept the fact that my jacket was nowhere there.

It’s a little crazy. You see, we shopped from time to time and as far as I know, people wouldn’t care much less took interest in your goods even if you left them in one corner to go somewhere else (buy a forgotten item, go to the restroom, etc) before heading home.

I was just so sore about the whole thing, I guess. That jacket was witness to a number of memorable events of my life.

baptism of fire

2004-10-06T22:30:00.000+08:00

my newfound friend here is raring to come back home. she feels she does not belong here. she says she practically drag her feet to work everyday. things are not what she expect them to be.

no amount of consolation can change her current predicament.

i can so relate to what she is feeling right now. it's not that the stars are not exactly in my favor, though, because we agree that she is a little worse off emotionally than i am. you see, at work we always face a blank wall. no, make that blank faces, blank stares, blank everything. i mean, duh? is it that hard to greet the day smiling? why do they look like they carry the weight of the world on their shoulders? even the most optimistic person could suffer paranoia around these people.

i don't want to elaborate anymore on the reasons for our blah and so-so state most days of the week. also, after all the countless nitpicking with my been-there-done-that friends, i have decided to stop questioning these locals', uh, cultural peculiarities. (whatever that may mean to you.) they told me they are just like that so i should deal and bear with it. period. yeah, right.

there's no mistaking it. it is always hard being a new entrant. the idea of finding your way and getting into the thick of things sometimes make you want to retreat in a corner and sulk. i was so convinced that i could live and earn my keep here for two years at the least. now that i am here, will someone please stand up and convince me to keep my promise 'coz i am having bouts of self-doubting.

did i not think long and hard enough? did i unknowingly sacrifice things that should have mattered to me? worst of all, was i irreversibly blinded by the good pay?

even if i try, i can not think of any other overriding reason why i packed my bags, took the flight then plunged into this unchartered territory - at least for me - except for the promise of a better future. am i bad for thinking that?

by far, this is the first time i let all the potentially lethal thoughts run free. for my own good, i shall now seal them in.

p.s.

while i was writing this heart-rending piece, one of my local colleagues came up to me and told me about the accounts she was transferring me. then she asked me how i was, etc....what's else, you ask? she actually said that every one of them was approachable and ever ready to help us. huh?! come again? i was afraid i uttered my thoughts out loud because she proceeded to tell me that they look like they are always so buried with work (which they are, promise!) and appear indifferent (my mind was really talking to her!!!) but, surprise, they are not. the indifferent part, of course. they are just like that (did she read this blog???). all in all, i honestly think she is friendly. in fact i kinda like her even before this talk. so i believe her. nice noh?! ;->

9/11

2004-09-29T21:25:00.000+08:00

i never imagined 9/11 would have an entirely new meaning other than it being a red-letter day (no pun intended) to the rest of the world, marking one of the most vicious terrorist attacks in recent memory.

on 9/11/2004, while the rest of the world bowed their heads in prayer to commemorate the tragic event, i bowed my head in prayer. period. indeed, i was on a totally different plane than the rest of humanity. in more ways than one.

i flew out of the country to live in a totally new world, that's why. so who can blame me for being a little bit unconcerned of what was going on around the globe? my world was about to CHANGE.

will singapore treat me good? will it live up to what i dreamed it to be? will i be happy???

i distinctly remember being so restless a couple of weeks before that fateful day. so many things ran through my mind that it came to a point where i wanted to call off the whole thing.

you just don't realize how deathly afraid i was of being away from my family and friends because of a zillion things. because i will miss them. that is saying a lot already. the occasions, the secrets, even the absolutely mundane things... most especially the deceptively boring and ho-hum things you do with them. i will surely miss them being present with me. what else? yup. i couldn't bear the thought of missing the smell, the taste, the sound and the feel of familiar things...somebody stop me or i could go for hours.

fast forward to 9/29. now what???

well, it has been a couple of weeks. things are getting better. everything is new. good, i like trying everything new. it makes me a bit afraid, utterly miserable even, but eventually you realize that, yes, it's just one of those things and it shall pass. for better or for worse, har har har.

p.s.

pardon the histrionics. it's my first time, you see :) reading through the stuff above, something came up. that is, i did not expect to be fairly happy this early. good! :)