Thunderclaps disturb
the sunny backdrop
of this garden of thoughts.
I welcome nature's uncertainty
only to bring back a year
and two turns of calendar pages
when I sat on a bench beside a cross
where the air was thinner
but somehow it was easier to breathe.
5.13.2005
1.24.2005
what's in a name
Today, someone I'm crushing on called be by my name. And we haven't even known each other that much yet. I don't know why it felt nice.
See, for the longest time, I've been detesting my name. There's something so confrontational about the name Diana, I think. There's this discomfort not only on my part but also from the one who said it. So I've tried to tone it down into Diane, Deej, or Dj. And it seems to be working out just fine. But then again, there's this nagging question at the back of my head: why the hell am I scared of my own name?
In different kinds of literature, someone's name is very significant in that it holds meaning to the bearer's person. In some Biblical passages, the name of a person is given much importance as name equals one's existence. The naming of the animals and plants in Genesis for example meant the recognition of the existence of these creatures. Also, in Isaiah is is written: "I created you, I redeemed you, I called you by name, you are mine." That identity invokes a sense of vocation or calling. I am God’s minister, the incarnation of God’s love. I am the body of Christ, meant to be an instrument of God’s love.
Could it mean therefore that by shunning my name, I am also shunning my own person? Could it be that I am denying my own existence? Is it logical to suspect that not embracing my name also says that I do not embrace my idenity and my vocation as an instrument of God? How important is name acceptance in living our lives?
In an effort to know about my name and its implications to my person, I researched on name etymologies and this is what I found:
Diana:
Probably derived from an old Indo-European root meaning "heavenly, divine", related to dyeus (see ZEUS). Diana was a Roman goddess of the moon, hunting, forests, and childbirth, often identified with the Greek goddess Artemis.
Er, although it seems that the godess Diana has a deep sense of responsibility like I think I do myself, I know "heavenly" and "divine" can't be words to decribe me. I am aware though that a name is not all there is to make a personality. Different personalities and temperaments make up diffrent Dianas. Still, I remain bothered by the fact that I am not at peace with my name.
Q: What is your name and where did it come from? D'ya like it?
See, for the longest time, I've been detesting my name. There's something so confrontational about the name Diana, I think. There's this discomfort not only on my part but also from the one who said it. So I've tried to tone it down into Diane, Deej, or Dj. And it seems to be working out just fine. But then again, there's this nagging question at the back of my head: why the hell am I scared of my own name?
In different kinds of literature, someone's name is very significant in that it holds meaning to the bearer's person. In some Biblical passages, the name of a person is given much importance as name equals one's existence. The naming of the animals and plants in Genesis for example meant the recognition of the existence of these creatures. Also, in Isaiah is is written: "I created you, I redeemed you, I called you by name, you are mine." That identity invokes a sense of vocation or calling. I am God’s minister, the incarnation of God’s love. I am the body of Christ, meant to be an instrument of God’s love.
Could it mean therefore that by shunning my name, I am also shunning my own person? Could it be that I am denying my own existence? Is it logical to suspect that not embracing my name also says that I do not embrace my idenity and my vocation as an instrument of God? How important is name acceptance in living our lives?
In an effort to know about my name and its implications to my person, I researched on name etymologies and this is what I found:
Diana:
Probably derived from an old Indo-European root meaning "heavenly, divine", related to dyeus (see ZEUS). Diana was a Roman goddess of the moon, hunting, forests, and childbirth, often identified with the Greek goddess Artemis.
Er, although it seems that the godess Diana has a deep sense of responsibility like I think I do myself, I know "heavenly" and "divine" can't be words to decribe me. I am aware though that a name is not all there is to make a personality. Different personalities and temperaments make up diffrent Dianas. Still, I remain bothered by the fact that I am not at peace with my name.
Q: What is your name and where did it come from? D'ya like it?
1.14.2005
goodbye hearthrob, hello nemo.
THE BAD NEWS:
I didn't make it to the three job openings at World Vision, the international organization I was talking about. Apparently, there were many applicants even twice my age who have many years of research experience under their belts. The only consolation I got was that my interviewer said the WV board had a great deal of difficulty in the deliberations, that I made it to the top 6 picks, and that they'd be looking forward for my re-application in the future should I be interested still. He was quite nice, my interviewer. He even gave me advice regarding my future and said I can call him at WV anytime if I needed something.
THE GOOD NEWS:
ICSI is hiring me and I start Monday! I'm happy and quite excited at the thought that I'd be working already...for real. Haha. I hope I can contribute a considerable lot to the institution and enjoy my work and the people at the same time. Gosh, there's so much to do: get a place within the area (I hope there's vacancy in my previous dorm. I need someplace cheap!), buy clothes (my clothes are all in Aparri), acquire needed documents, etc. etc.
Working within Ateneo will be great becasue it won't be that difficult for me to adjust. But I realize that there's a danger in this too. There's a tendency to be cooped up within the environment and my growth as a person can be compromised. I have to constantly remind myself that I'm no longer a student, that I have more responsibilities, and that there's a larger world out there.
TODAY ON YM
Me: Syet, ang tanda ko na...
Pao: Hindi ka pa matanda. Mas mature ka lang! LOL
(Pao, sino niloko mo? Ang tanda na talaga natin! Bwahaha!)
I didn't make it to the three job openings at World Vision, the international organization I was talking about. Apparently, there were many applicants even twice my age who have many years of research experience under their belts. The only consolation I got was that my interviewer said the WV board had a great deal of difficulty in the deliberations, that I made it to the top 6 picks, and that they'd be looking forward for my re-application in the future should I be interested still. He was quite nice, my interviewer. He even gave me advice regarding my future and said I can call him at WV anytime if I needed something.
THE GOOD NEWS:
ICSI is hiring me and I start Monday! I'm happy and quite excited at the thought that I'd be working already...for real. Haha. I hope I can contribute a considerable lot to the institution and enjoy my work and the people at the same time. Gosh, there's so much to do: get a place within the area (I hope there's vacancy in my previous dorm. I need someplace cheap!), buy clothes (my clothes are all in Aparri), acquire needed documents, etc. etc.
Working within Ateneo will be great becasue it won't be that difficult for me to adjust. But I realize that there's a danger in this too. There's a tendency to be cooped up within the environment and my growth as a person can be compromised. I have to constantly remind myself that I'm no longer a student, that I have more responsibilities, and that there's a larger world out there.
TODAY ON YM
Me: Syet, ang tanda ko na...
Pao: Hindi ka pa matanda. Mas mature ka lang! LOL
(Pao, sino niloko mo? Ang tanda na talaga natin! Bwahaha!)
1.11.2005
update
To those of you who wish to know, my Monday interview went well. I actually even enjoyed it. :) I was inetrviewed by a Filipino and a foreigner ( of Indian or Sri Lankan descent, I'm not sure )and they were very receptive and easy to talk to. After the interview I was assigned to write a reseacrh proposal to assess the needs of an poor community for its social and economic development. An introduction to the study was also required. I just hope I'll get shortlisted and eventually accepted. There is stiff competition though. That, I am sure of. I saw their applicant files and man, were they very thick!
Anyhoo, I did what I planned to do: enjoy the interview. So ayun, masaya na ako. I am so thankful for the outpour of support from my friends. Thanks to those who texted. Milan even called me up and that surely did wonders to my nerves. He even gave me interview tips. The main thing he said was that every interview has to have some drama. Haha. Typically Milan. It seems to have worked though. Thanks Milan! *hugs*
Oh, I almost forgot. There even was a bonus to my day. I bumped into one of Aparri's heartthrobs before the interview. O di ba, pag sinuswerte nga naman ang araw mo... We were playmates when I was about eight but we kinda lost touch after (rival schools, different circles). We chatted for a while and I learned that he also works in the building. Sabi ko, syet, another reason to want to get accepted.
Ehem...
In other news, my 2nd interview at ICSI also was okay. At least it was better than the 1st one. Ma'am Jing the Executive Director, and Fr. John Carroll SJ were my interviewers. Sabi ko, syet di ba si Fr. Carroll yung nagsusulat ng Theo 141 readings? Baka naman may itanong siya tungkol dun at magmukha akong mababaw. the fact that Ma'am Jing was also an AtSCAn added pressure. Inisip ko dapat brilliant ako. EB pa man din ako dati. Baka isipin patapon na AtSCA nowadays because of EBs like me. Forever curse to ng isang AtSCA EB member. Haaay. Although there were many serious quiestions, it turned out that Father John and Ma'am Jing were not that intimidating. In fact, they were also very warm. It's like we were only doing an individual consultation.
After the interview and a written exam, I went to see Al at ACED and made tambay (oo na, cono na kung cono!) at the atsca room--for three hours! Grabe, everytime I made an attempt to leave, may pipigil sa akin. It was nice though to make tambay again. Na-miss ko na mag-iwan ng bag sa AtSCA table tapos wallet lang at cellphone and binibitbit ko. Mwaha! Feeling estudyante parin.
Speaking of buhay estudyante, I saw "Nemo" my one and only (but alas, it came a little too late) Ateneo crush today. As usual, we got into that small talk routine (Gosh, will we ever ever get through that stage?!). I don't know why when I see him he always looks edgy and ilang. Punyeta, may nagsabi na ata sa kanya na crush ko siya eh. Panira! All I want is to be well, a friend. Tsaka baka magfeeling (inwardly) na yun noh. This always always happens. I'm glad the moment I see him but then after, the whole incident stumps me. Dang! Why does he have this effect on me.
Ok, ok. I'll stop ranting. Oo na, at least I get to see him di ba? Ok na rin yon. Hay buhay.
Anyhoo, I did what I planned to do: enjoy the interview. So ayun, masaya na ako. I am so thankful for the outpour of support from my friends. Thanks to those who texted. Milan even called me up and that surely did wonders to my nerves. He even gave me interview tips. The main thing he said was that every interview has to have some drama. Haha. Typically Milan. It seems to have worked though. Thanks Milan! *hugs*
Oh, I almost forgot. There even was a bonus to my day. I bumped into one of Aparri's heartthrobs before the interview. O di ba, pag sinuswerte nga naman ang araw mo... We were playmates when I was about eight but we kinda lost touch after (rival schools, different circles). We chatted for a while and I learned that he also works in the building. Sabi ko, syet, another reason to want to get accepted.
Ehem...
In other news, my 2nd interview at ICSI also was okay. At least it was better than the 1st one. Ma'am Jing the Executive Director, and Fr. John Carroll SJ were my interviewers. Sabi ko, syet di ba si Fr. Carroll yung nagsusulat ng Theo 141 readings? Baka naman may itanong siya tungkol dun at magmukha akong mababaw. the fact that Ma'am Jing was also an AtSCAn added pressure. Inisip ko dapat brilliant ako. EB pa man din ako dati. Baka isipin patapon na AtSCA nowadays because of EBs like me. Forever curse to ng isang AtSCA EB member. Haaay. Although there were many serious quiestions, it turned out that Father John and Ma'am Jing were not that intimidating. In fact, they were also very warm. It's like we were only doing an individual consultation.
After the interview and a written exam, I went to see Al at ACED and made tambay (oo na, cono na kung cono!) at the atsca room--for three hours! Grabe, everytime I made an attempt to leave, may pipigil sa akin. It was nice though to make tambay again. Na-miss ko na mag-iwan ng bag sa AtSCA table tapos wallet lang at cellphone and binibitbit ko. Mwaha! Feeling estudyante parin.
Speaking of buhay estudyante, I saw "Nemo" my one and only (but alas, it came a little too late) Ateneo crush today. As usual, we got into that small talk routine (Gosh, will we ever ever get through that stage?!). I don't know why when I see him he always looks edgy and ilang. Punyeta, may nagsabi na ata sa kanya na crush ko siya eh. Panira! All I want is to be well, a friend. Tsaka baka magfeeling (inwardly) na yun noh. This always always happens. I'm glad the moment I see him but then after, the whole incident stumps me. Dang! Why does he have this effect on me.
Ok, ok. I'll stop ranting. Oo na, at least I get to see him di ba? Ok na rin yon. Hay buhay.
1.05.2005
I need valium
An international humanitarian organization has just called me for an interview. Yipee! Yipee! Yipee! (abot tenga ang ngiti :P) I'm so excited that I keep imagining myself already working there. I try to stop myself knowing that it'll be doubly devastating, having imagined all those things, if I mess up the interview. I'm so hyped up and I love-hate the feeling.
Monday, I either get hired or mired...in shit that is. Oh God. I need your prayers.
***
Wait, what if this was one of those times when God decides to bring you up just to let you down, in order for you to be able to empathize with all those who have experienced the same thing, in order for you to be a little bit kinder? Oooh, help me. I'm a bunch of jumbled nerves.
Monday, I either get hired or mired...in shit that is. Oh God. I need your prayers.
***
Wait, what if this was one of those times when God decides to bring you up just to let you down, in order for you to be able to empathize with all those who have experienced the same thing, in order for you to be a little bit kinder? Oooh, help me. I'm a bunch of jumbled nerves.
12.30.2004
reunion
I figured I had to do it. I had to face him again so I would know what the score was. I went hoping for a sign. I arrived staring at a billboard. Natural. That's what they are. And honest. Honest as a mother breast-feeding her baby. Honest as the rains surrendering to the earth.
The first seconds were the throat-clearing, shirt-straightening, beer opening, and chair shuffling stage. I was late, as usual. In all things, I am. Things quickly returned to their original pace and still, that honesty.
I felt different, I felt like the villain. But my throat did not tighten, my fists did not clench, my jaws remained the same. No. In fact, I was smiling. But I guess I had that faraway look like I was remembering something and trying to forget it at the same time. He hasn't changed much. But the picture in front of me was different. Now there was someone with him to reciprocate. And the image was so natural, so true. She excelled where I failed. She is what she is and I...I do not know who I am.
The night wound on and I was truly apperciating every moment perhaps becasue there in the middle of talks about bar destinations, TV shows, heart operations, and high school memories, I knew I would go into my zone out mode to say good-bye as I should have done years ago. Goood-bye you guys. It's been great, all those ten years. But I don't want to taint your perfect world any longer.
The first seconds were the throat-clearing, shirt-straightening, beer opening, and chair shuffling stage. I was late, as usual. In all things, I am. Things quickly returned to their original pace and still, that honesty.
I felt different, I felt like the villain. But my throat did not tighten, my fists did not clench, my jaws remained the same. No. In fact, I was smiling. But I guess I had that faraway look like I was remembering something and trying to forget it at the same time. He hasn't changed much. But the picture in front of me was different. Now there was someone with him to reciprocate. And the image was so natural, so true. She excelled where I failed. She is what she is and I...I do not know who I am.
The night wound on and I was truly apperciating every moment perhaps becasue there in the middle of talks about bar destinations, TV shows, heart operations, and high school memories, I knew I would go into my zone out mode to say good-bye as I should have done years ago. Goood-bye you guys. It's been great, all those ten years. But I don't want to taint your perfect world any longer.
12.27.2004
23,000 dead and counting
I have recurring dreams of me getting caught in a tsunami. They're always to the effect of that scene with Tea Leoni and her dad in 'Sum of All Fears'. But these dreams never finish. They get cut on the part when the wave is overhead ready to crash upon me.
Last month, I received an email informing the public of a possible killer quake that will strike the Philippines before the year ends. Apparently, as one psychic says, it will wash out many coastal areas including La Union. Naturally, I got quite worried. Aparri is a coastal town and is a few meters below sea level. But I do not usually believe in predictions so I shoved the thought away.
And now this. It seems that the psychic prediction came true. Only, the earthquake struck in a different area, a few longitudes west of what was expected.
.
Too many lives have been annihilated just like that. It is scary that one minute you are jogging along the beach then the next you're gone.
Let's pray that relief operations will be executed smoothly with the least politicking possible. Let's pray that the countries affected will be able to bounce back with help from the international community. And in all these, may God's power and love continue to shine through.
Last month, I received an email informing the public of a possible killer quake that will strike the Philippines before the year ends. Apparently, as one psychic says, it will wash out many coastal areas including La Union. Naturally, I got quite worried. Aparri is a coastal town and is a few meters below sea level. But I do not usually believe in predictions so I shoved the thought away.
And now this. It seems that the psychic prediction came true. Only, the earthquake struck in a different area, a few longitudes west of what was expected.
.Too many lives have been annihilated just like that. It is scary that one minute you are jogging along the beach then the next you're gone.
Let's pray that relief operations will be executed smoothly with the least politicking possible. Let's pray that the countries affected will be able to bounce back with help from the international community. And in all these, may God's power and love continue to shine through.
12.24.2004
packing on pounds...again
When I got to Manila three weeks ago, everybody complimented me for losing so much weight. A friend even had a double take on me and said, 'Teka, nagpa-nose lift ka ba?'. To which I replied, 'Nye. Hindi noh. Matangos talaga ang ilong ko. Lumubog lang yan nung mataba ako.' Wehe. :P Since September, I had been going into the South Beach diet and I had lost a total of 15 pounds. Siempre proud ako noh, hirap din mag-South Beach especially sa start. First day, I thought I was having withdrawal symptoms from sweets. Nanginig kaya ang kalamnan ko. But things got better after a few days and I actually enjoyed not eating any carbs (rice, pasta, breads, and yes, even fruits).
Now, after three weeks in Manila, I am getting fat again. Blast! My people (haha, as if ruler ng Aparri), told me I've grown a little fatter. *Sigh* I just wish I will not be one of those who yo-yo all their lives. I really have to get back to my diet. Tama na muna ng Fruits in Ice Cream. I dunno how to manage religiously sticking to my diet this eating season though. Last last night was my brother Paul's birthday. Last night was my cousin Angie's. Tonight is Noche Buena. O ano? Wala na.
Anyhoo, it was my first Simbang Gabi in our town this morning after a long time. We weren't complete as a family because my dear palikero brother Lloyd wouldn't get up. He spent last night chatting, texting, and calling up girls. Paul said he slept around four. Eh five kaya ang misa. Oh well. Too bad he missed a good sermon.
Today, Father Dennis gained my respect. I didn't think much of him before. Oh I knew he went to Spain to study and all that. But his English isn't all that good. His subjects and verbs do not agree much. If you'd observe me during a mass, you'd discover that I was always repressing a smirk and looking guilty in the process. Smirking at priests during a mass is not a good feeling at all. I think studying at Ateneo and hearing wonderful masses there has put me in a more critical and expecting stance when hearing sermons. I tell you, it is a curse.
Today though, I found myself nodding all throughout Father Dennis' sermon. He kept throwing bombshell after bombshell of reflection-worthy points and he tied these points together into a wonderful thesis. (Magteacher nalang kaya ako ano? Hehe.) It's not that I haven't heard all these before. But good sermons, I think, need not be original. At their best, they are. But a sermon that gets you into a reflective mood throughout the day can be enough.
Wait. I didn't realize that Father Dennis can be quite cute up close. (Haliparot!) I wonder if he's free today to for confession (Haliparot! Haliparot!) I’ll see. I wouldn't want to spend Christmas not being able to receive the Holy Communion just because I didn't attend mass last Sunday. Hmmm… (Haliparot!)
Now, after three weeks in Manila, I am getting fat again. Blast! My people (haha, as if ruler ng Aparri), told me I've grown a little fatter. *Sigh* I just wish I will not be one of those who yo-yo all their lives. I really have to get back to my diet. Tama na muna ng Fruits in Ice Cream. I dunno how to manage religiously sticking to my diet this eating season though. Last last night was my brother Paul's birthday. Last night was my cousin Angie's. Tonight is Noche Buena. O ano? Wala na.
Anyhoo, it was my first Simbang Gabi in our town this morning after a long time. We weren't complete as a family because my dear palikero brother Lloyd wouldn't get up. He spent last night chatting, texting, and calling up girls. Paul said he slept around four. Eh five kaya ang misa. Oh well. Too bad he missed a good sermon.
Today, Father Dennis gained my respect. I didn't think much of him before. Oh I knew he went to Spain to study and all that. But his English isn't all that good. His subjects and verbs do not agree much. If you'd observe me during a mass, you'd discover that I was always repressing a smirk and looking guilty in the process. Smirking at priests during a mass is not a good feeling at all. I think studying at Ateneo and hearing wonderful masses there has put me in a more critical and expecting stance when hearing sermons. I tell you, it is a curse.
Today though, I found myself nodding all throughout Father Dennis' sermon. He kept throwing bombshell after bombshell of reflection-worthy points and he tied these points together into a wonderful thesis. (Magteacher nalang kaya ako ano? Hehe.) It's not that I haven't heard all these before. But good sermons, I think, need not be original. At their best, they are. But a sermon that gets you into a reflective mood throughout the day can be enough.
Wait. I didn't realize that Father Dennis can be quite cute up close. (Haliparot!) I wonder if he's free today to for confession (Haliparot! Haliparot!) I’ll see. I wouldn't want to spend Christmas not being able to receive the Holy Communion just because I didn't attend mass last Sunday. Hmmm… (Haliparot!)
12.18.2004
divisoria girl
One can never say that shopping in divisoria is such a breeze. I have been buying stuff in divisoria since I was a kid. Hell, my dad's family even lived a few blocks away from tutuban for more than 20 years and I always slept over and visited DM (Divisoria Mall). Even if I'm used to the locale and used to carrying heavy plastic bags amidst jampacked meter-length hallways, I always always get tired after.
Today was no exception. For the fifth time, my Tita Nitz called me and my Tita Rosa to purchase more stuffed toys and children's dresses for her store in Tugugarao. Again, Tita Rosa and I stifled our groans as the nightmare of having to squeeze ourselves through hoardes of people to buy goods from three different outlets and one bangketa stall began. Putek, wala pa nga kaming kick back dito noh! At the end of the day, we bought three sacks of merchandise and man were they heavy! Why am I even doing this, I kept thinking.
The highlight of the day I must say was when we rode a pedicab from divisoria to a sampaloc bus station to ship all these to the province. There was no cab in sight and the binatilyo of a padyak driver offered his services for PhP 150. We had to agree. Pero tangina, pedicab ba naman nang ganun kalayo! In hindsight though, the ride was fun. We counterflowed twice and rode through sidewalks. Surprisingly, everybody was helpful. I discovered that there's this exclusive secret code of honor among padyak drivers. All is fair in love, war, and pedicab driving it seems. Walang nagagalit kahit na nagsasalpukan sa daan. Tinutulak ang mahihina, hinihila ang nadidisbalanse. When you're in a car, pedicabs always are a nuisance. When you're riding one, your perspective changes. All of the sudden, you see the honesty in the driver's work. All of a sudden he's your hero.
In the bus station, my tita and I even had to haggle for a place in the bus for our goods. During holiday season, they prioritized passenger cargo. Naghanap lang kami sa kakilala para makisuyo. We finished everything by 10 pm exhausted and hungry.
As I ask myself again why I'm doing this, I realize that divisoria has really been part of my life. I love the noise of busy trade. I love the excited murmurs of frantic shoppers. I love a pretty good bargain. Hell, I even love the acrid smell of rotting vegetables and horse dung. And always, there is a sense of achievement after you've traversed the cobblestone streets of divisoria unscathed...that is if you've also managed to get yourself a ride home.
Today was no exception. For the fifth time, my Tita Nitz called me and my Tita Rosa to purchase more stuffed toys and children's dresses for her store in Tugugarao. Again, Tita Rosa and I stifled our groans as the nightmare of having to squeeze ourselves through hoardes of people to buy goods from three different outlets and one bangketa stall began. Putek, wala pa nga kaming kick back dito noh! At the end of the day, we bought three sacks of merchandise and man were they heavy! Why am I even doing this, I kept thinking.
The highlight of the day I must say was when we rode a pedicab from divisoria to a sampaloc bus station to ship all these to the province. There was no cab in sight and the binatilyo of a padyak driver offered his services for PhP 150. We had to agree. Pero tangina, pedicab ba naman nang ganun kalayo! In hindsight though, the ride was fun. We counterflowed twice and rode through sidewalks. Surprisingly, everybody was helpful. I discovered that there's this exclusive secret code of honor among padyak drivers. All is fair in love, war, and pedicab driving it seems. Walang nagagalit kahit na nagsasalpukan sa daan. Tinutulak ang mahihina, hinihila ang nadidisbalanse. When you're in a car, pedicabs always are a nuisance. When you're riding one, your perspective changes. All of the sudden, you see the honesty in the driver's work. All of a sudden he's your hero.
In the bus station, my tita and I even had to haggle for a place in the bus for our goods. During holiday season, they prioritized passenger cargo. Naghanap lang kami sa kakilala para makisuyo. We finished everything by 10 pm exhausted and hungry.
As I ask myself again why I'm doing this, I realize that divisoria has really been part of my life. I love the noise of busy trade. I love the excited murmurs of frantic shoppers. I love a pretty good bargain. Hell, I even love the acrid smell of rotting vegetables and horse dung. And always, there is a sense of achievement after you've traversed the cobblestone streets of divisoria unscathed...that is if you've also managed to get yourself a ride home.
12.15.2004
of shoes and men
I have been looking for a good pair of pointy shoes with backstraps for more than a week now to no avail. Just when I thought I’d found the right one, thered always be something wrong with it. Either the fit is all wrong however good it looked, or, the straps are a tad too loose even if the soles fit me perfectly. Sometimes Id find comfortable hideous flats. Other times Id bump into interesting pairs but with heels up so high I couldnt possibly get comfortable with them. Last Monday I spent half a day hopping from mall to mall vowing to find that damned shoe. I ended up so spent and depressed with no paper bag at hand. The funny thing in my experience is that when it comes to buying shoes, the really good ones you’ll chance upon when you arent even looking. The freakin catch is that since you’ve no plans to buy and you haven’t got any money, you do not get the shoe!!!
As I was in the speeding pagewang-gewang jeepney on my way back to my titas condo, too much down in the dumps and irritated at that damned reckless driver, it just hit me from nowhere. Finding the perfect pair of shoes is like finding the perfect man -- totally impossible. No matter what, there’s always something wrong with the shoe or just with your damned overused and under-cared feet. There’s no perfect match. There never will be. And you just have to settle.
That I havent learned to do. And here I am with neither man nor shoe.
As I was in the speeding pagewang-gewang jeepney on my way back to my titas condo, too much down in the dumps and irritated at that damned reckless driver, it just hit me from nowhere. Finding the perfect pair of shoes is like finding the perfect man -- totally impossible. No matter what, there’s always something wrong with the shoe or just with your damned overused and under-cared feet. There’s no perfect match. There never will be. And you just have to settle.
That I havent learned to do. And here I am with neither man nor shoe.
12.03.2004
stormy days
Twenty one days into Christmas and I'm not feeling the spirit just yet. And it doesn't help that I'm in Manila. These days, home would be chillingly cold. I think I’m beginning to miss that. And to think I was whining my way into Manila just last week. Although Christmas carols steadily drift from LRT station radios, there isn’t that feeling of excitement or anticipation. In fact, I’ve gotten into a very sullen mood.
But today was slightly better. This morning, I went to Ateneo to help out at Task Force Noah, the relief operations organized by some staff and faculty members and some organizations in the university. Since I woke up early for a supposed company orientation (which I did not attend because of the still alanganin weather), I texted Choy AtSCA’s president this year to ask how Task Force Noah was going. He told me that AtSCAns were helping out and that they’d go today at 8 am. At the spur of the moment, I rushed to Loyola House of Studies. I had to do this. Just a little contribution to my foster family in Gabaldon, N.E. and others who have been afflicted by the super typhoons Winnie and Yoyong.
We sorted clothes, packed rice, carried heavy sacks of food packs and plastic bags full of clothes. The atmosphere in the TF Noah headquarters was intense but joyful. You could feel the urgency of the matter and people worked fast, but there is still a sense of fun. People liked what they were doing. Volunteers of all ages were arriving. There were even kids whom parents or ates and kuyas brought along presumably to be exposed to doing things like this. By luchtime the LHS lobby was full of goods but fuller with people who wanted to lend a hand. Choy and I exited knowing they could handle things already and thinking the operations will be more organized and efficient if there were fewer volunteers.
Lunchtime, I met with Toni and we chatted for 2 hrs. I missed how we can talk nonstop about anything but more so, how we can talk about the important things. In those two hours we managed to talk about weight loss, job fulfillment, love and relationships, going for it, the future and education—their facets we haven’t discussed before. Talking with Toni is like eating a pint of ice cream or receiving a really big hug (which she gives truly well by the way). She's my favorite ToniBear. * (^.^) Grin*
***
How the hell could I imagine what to say if I ever see you, but fail to deliver when I finally do? When will I break free of this torpe rut that spills over to so many aspects of my life. Life sucks when you’re not brave enough.
But today was slightly better. This morning, I went to Ateneo to help out at Task Force Noah, the relief operations organized by some staff and faculty members and some organizations in the university. Since I woke up early for a supposed company orientation (which I did not attend because of the still alanganin weather), I texted Choy AtSCA’s president this year to ask how Task Force Noah was going. He told me that AtSCAns were helping out and that they’d go today at 8 am. At the spur of the moment, I rushed to Loyola House of Studies. I had to do this. Just a little contribution to my foster family in Gabaldon, N.E. and others who have been afflicted by the super typhoons Winnie and Yoyong.
We sorted clothes, packed rice, carried heavy sacks of food packs and plastic bags full of clothes. The atmosphere in the TF Noah headquarters was intense but joyful. You could feel the urgency of the matter and people worked fast, but there is still a sense of fun. People liked what they were doing. Volunteers of all ages were arriving. There were even kids whom parents or ates and kuyas brought along presumably to be exposed to doing things like this. By luchtime the LHS lobby was full of goods but fuller with people who wanted to lend a hand. Choy and I exited knowing they could handle things already and thinking the operations will be more organized and efficient if there were fewer volunteers.
Lunchtime, I met with Toni and we chatted for 2 hrs. I missed how we can talk nonstop about anything but more so, how we can talk about the important things. In those two hours we managed to talk about weight loss, job fulfillment, love and relationships, going for it, the future and education—their facets we haven’t discussed before. Talking with Toni is like eating a pint of ice cream or receiving a really big hug (which she gives truly well by the way). She's my favorite ToniBear. * (^.^) Grin*
***
How the hell could I imagine what to say if I ever see you, but fail to deliver when I finally do? When will I break free of this torpe rut that spills over to so many aspects of my life. Life sucks when you’re not brave enough.
11.25.2004
beyond words
Sometimes, I feel that there are so many things in me I can't communicate to others even though I'd want these expressed. During these times, I get more and more convinced of the Rosseauian concept that language has caused us to be unfree rather than to be free. I try to put down into writing my thoughts and feelings but I always, always fall short. Sometimes it bothers me that I can't share an insight for fear of not doing justice to its depth and mystery. It's the worst feeling. It's like you trying to move your bowels but no shit comes out because, afterall, you're constipated.
Yesterday, I read this piece from the devotional I mentioned a few blog entries back. It somehow told me it was okay to be lost for words. In fact, it is necessary to be so. Because it is in inner silence that we are formed and transformed. It is from this state that we can move toward something we want to be.
Yesterday, I read this piece from the devotional I mentioned a few blog entries back. It somehow told me it was okay to be lost for words. In fact, it is necessary to be so. Because it is in inner silence that we are formed and transformed. It is from this state that we can move toward something we want to be.
Keeping the Flame Alive
Guarding the inner life
Ephesians 1:13-14
We sometimes mistakenly think that every thought should be expressed, every vision proclaimed and every dream explained. We think that everything that takes place in our inner world is ultimately meant for public consumption.
This is clearly not the case. There are things that are sacred and private. We don't usually divulge the intimacies of our love life to others. Similarly, there are intimacies of our interior being that should remain hidden. Henri Nouwen notes that 'silence is the discipline by which the inner life of God is tended and kept alive.' It is in the quietness of our own being that thoughts can be carefully nurtured.
It is there that hopes can be persistently sustained. It is there that dreams can be awakened. In the solitude of our inner life, resolutions can be forged and difficult commitments made. There an uncluttered intimacy can flourish. There the self can be renewed and transformed. There love can grow and that which is sacred can be guarded and protected.
If this interior life is not maintained, we will weaken our inner strength and dissipate our resolve. We will all the more easily run the risk of being swayed by the dominant voices of our time and run the danger of losing ourselves. To keep that which is sacred is not selfishness. It is right to maintain that which guards the self. It is moreover, the seedbed from which courageous actions flow.
11.17.2004
dreaming of dreamers
What is it with me and dreamers? I always find myself, though not necessarily in a romantic way, attracted to people who are perennially preoccupied with something. These people are driven and intense. Often, they are masters of their own craft, and mysteriously so hard to reach (in short, autistic)! I find myself foolishly wishing to be able to pry open their world, to be shared their thoughts and feelings. And I always end up disappointed. For my own good, this preoccupation has got to stop.
Lately, another man who caught my admiration is Bob Geldof, the musician who in 1984 brought together starts like Phil Collins, WHAM, Sting, U2, david Bowie and a lot others to form Band Aid. This all-star group recorded an album with the song Do they know it’s Christmas and set up a huge concert as a fund-raising project for the famine-stricken people of Somalia. Then I realize that Geldof also fits my description of a dreamer. His passion tinged with this palpable rage, and his dogged pursuit of raising funds, awareness, and political action for the victims of Somalia excited me utterly that I was glued in front of the TV for two hours watching BBC in which the story of Somalia was featured. The sense of excitement stayed long after but it was tempered by this feeling of nostalgic wishing—-wishing there would be more people like Geldof, wishing there would be someone like him where I am.
Bob Geldof in his earlier years looking rather pensive
Working with UNICEF in Ethiopia
Bob Geldof today
This year, Geldof brought together new pop artists like Jamelia, Sugababes, Robbie Willliams, David Bedingfield, Dido, Blur's Damon Albarn, and others to form Band Aid 20. Although he has aged, the passion and intensity is still there. I sure hope Band Aid 20 will be as successful if not more so than the original one.
Lately, another man who caught my admiration is Bob Geldof, the musician who in 1984 brought together starts like Phil Collins, WHAM, Sting, U2, david Bowie and a lot others to form Band Aid. This all-star group recorded an album with the song Do they know it’s Christmas and set up a huge concert as a fund-raising project for the famine-stricken people of Somalia. Then I realize that Geldof also fits my description of a dreamer. His passion tinged with this palpable rage, and his dogged pursuit of raising funds, awareness, and political action for the victims of Somalia excited me utterly that I was glued in front of the TV for two hours watching BBC in which the story of Somalia was featured. The sense of excitement stayed long after but it was tempered by this feeling of nostalgic wishing—-wishing there would be more people like Geldof, wishing there would be someone like him where I am.
Bob Geldof in his earlier years looking rather pensive
Working with UNICEF in Ethiopia
Bob Geldof today
This year, Geldof brought together new pop artists like Jamelia, Sugababes, Robbie Willliams, David Bedingfield, Dido, Blur's Damon Albarn, and others to form Band Aid 20. Although he has aged, the passion and intensity is still there. I sure hope Band Aid 20 will be as successful if not more so than the original one.
11.12.2004
endorphins
I haven't blogged in a while for couple of reasons. First, I coudn't get online because our phone line at home got cut. My mom refused to pay the bill which contained erroneous IDD charges we didn't make. Turned out though, those charges could've been internet charges from porn sites. (HULI ang kung sinong nagsurf ng porn sites dito sa bahay. BWHAHAHA!) Second, I didn't feel like writing because I had nothing to say. In my humdrum-sorry-as-I-make-of-it kind of a life, what is there worth sharing?
But then I guess I don't give my life the kind of credit it deserves. Things have been brewing up lately. For five straight days, my parents took off to Manila for their general check-up and left me to manage the drugstore and the house all by myself. Syempre naloka ako! I was thinking , without my dear mother (the pharmacist) who possesses the expertise of disposing medicines to customers, I (a mere political science graduate) and my team of two (both college undergraduates) would have difficulty in locating a products among thousands of classes and in suggesting to customers alternatives products for non-available ones. But I could not afford not to take my staff and and forge ahead in this endeavor. I, at this point was the assigned master and commander.
First, that meant waking up at 6 am to open the store.(Oh nooooo!) It also meant monitoring the salespersons and not dozing off at the cash register in the middle of reading a book (which I normally did). It meant making extra effort in being able to sell more by mainting fast-paced service and friendly assistance to clueless customers. It meant giving out product orders and receiving deliveries. It meant taking care of the money from the sales and depositing it. Whew! I surely had a lot of work to do. Oh and I almost forgot, since we didn't have a CR in the store, it meant holding up having to pee till lunchtime when my brother Kevin would take my place during his lunch break from school, and till closing time at 7:30 pm. Haaaaay nako! Buti nalang di ako pala-ihi.
Surprise of surprises I did manage to wake up early. This reinfores my theory that I can really wake up early of I wanted to (evil me, not being able to do so on normal days). Also, the good thing is that in those 7 months of forced bumming around at the store, I have been familiarized with most of our products, though numerous they were, and therefore have already known their storage locations, uses, and generic names so that I had been able to cope when I was finally in charge. For those times when I didn't know where to look for the goods or which to substitute, I referred to MIMS, the Pharmaceutical Manual available for use in every drugstore. Slowly, I was fitting myself into the role even thinking of things to do in the store in the occassional lulls of the mid-afternoons. My team and I fixed displays and took inventories of products that have run out. I got to admit, I started to like it.
I have said to myself over and over again in the past that I am not a salesperson. I never will be. But I guess it is difficult not to get the sales bug when you are in a family of salespersons. (Both my mother and father's families are in retail and wholesale). But then again maybe it is not the sales job per se that brought out a positive energy in me. Maybe it is just the job period. I find that I am most happy when I am busy and deeply engrossed with work. I haven't been thais busy since I was in school and I loved it.
Turned out, this responsibility didn't do great things for me alone but for the business as well. My mom observed that sales rose to up to 20% when I was in charge. Maybe she's just pulling my leg though---to convince me to stay a little bit longer. Well I don't know. I mean who knows? Maybe i will.
But then I guess I don't give my life the kind of credit it deserves. Things have been brewing up lately. For five straight days, my parents took off to Manila for their general check-up and left me to manage the drugstore and the house all by myself. Syempre naloka ako! I was thinking , without my dear mother (the pharmacist) who possesses the expertise of disposing medicines to customers, I (a mere political science graduate) and my team of two (both college undergraduates) would have difficulty in locating a products among thousands of classes and in suggesting to customers alternatives products for non-available ones. But I could not afford not to take my staff and and forge ahead in this endeavor. I, at this point was the assigned master and commander.
First, that meant waking up at 6 am to open the store.(Oh nooooo!) It also meant monitoring the salespersons and not dozing off at the cash register in the middle of reading a book (which I normally did). It meant making extra effort in being able to sell more by mainting fast-paced service and friendly assistance to clueless customers. It meant giving out product orders and receiving deliveries. It meant taking care of the money from the sales and depositing it. Whew! I surely had a lot of work to do. Oh and I almost forgot, since we didn't have a CR in the store, it meant holding up having to pee till lunchtime when my brother Kevin would take my place during his lunch break from school, and till closing time at 7:30 pm. Haaaaay nako! Buti nalang di ako pala-ihi.
Surprise of surprises I did manage to wake up early. This reinfores my theory that I can really wake up early of I wanted to (evil me, not being able to do so on normal days). Also, the good thing is that in those 7 months of forced bumming around at the store, I have been familiarized with most of our products, though numerous they were, and therefore have already known their storage locations, uses, and generic names so that I had been able to cope when I was finally in charge. For those times when I didn't know where to look for the goods or which to substitute, I referred to MIMS, the Pharmaceutical Manual available for use in every drugstore. Slowly, I was fitting myself into the role even thinking of things to do in the store in the occassional lulls of the mid-afternoons. My team and I fixed displays and took inventories of products that have run out. I got to admit, I started to like it.
I have said to myself over and over again in the past that I am not a salesperson. I never will be. But I guess it is difficult not to get the sales bug when you are in a family of salespersons. (Both my mother and father's families are in retail and wholesale). But then again maybe it is not the sales job per se that brought out a positive energy in me. Maybe it is just the job period. I find that I am most happy when I am busy and deeply engrossed with work. I haven't been thais busy since I was in school and I loved it.
Turned out, this responsibility didn't do great things for me alone but for the business as well. My mom observed that sales rose to up to 20% when I was in charge. Maybe she's just pulling my leg though---to convince me to stay a little bit longer. Well I don't know. I mean who knows? Maybe i will.
9.05.2004
21 and morphing
It was the first time in four years that I got to spend my birthday in Aparri. Although simple, the dinner party graced by the presence of my relatives had been full of warmth. It is in gatherings like this that I feel I’m living up to Wolfgang Puck’s motto: Live, Love, Eat (…and drink a little wine, as my cousin Nicholai adds)! I cooked up simple courses for the occasion, those of my recipes that have withstood the test of time and very discriminate palates, I must say. There were my baked macaroni, cheesy caldereta which I prepared the night before to bring out more flavor, stir-fried vegetables. My aunt gave me much needed help in the kitchen and tossed some jumping shrimps into the wok, seasoned them with sesame oil, chili, salt and pepper, and Tabasco. She topped them with crispy garlic as garnish. I forgot to prepare dessert though and we ended up buying cookies and cream ice cream, which the kids always love anyway. I thought I prepared a lot but it turned out the food was just enough. That there wasn’t much food left after dinner was actually a pat on my shoulder. I realized that this would probably be the last birthday I’m gonna spend sponsored by my parents so I decided I had better enjoy it while it lasted.
If you have been reading my previous blogs or if we have been talking in the past months, you would know that in the first four months that I was in here, I was becoming more opinionated to the point of being combative. I was constantly in mood swings that had to do with my confused state of emotions regarding my stay here in the province which I felt impeded personal growth. Growth that I could only get from working away from home. Now, a month after my “retreat” in Manila (which was spent more actually on talking with friends most of which are not satisfied with their jobs), I find myself being more calm and agreeable without being reticent. I actually even have small chit-chats with my mom now which I realized I missed a lot. Although I haven’t dropped my kontrabida tendencies (I still chastise her for eating too much mayo, and bread, and cheese and a lot more stuff ), I’ve dropped my bugnutin attitude which I acquired during the first part of my stay here. It feels so much better.
Although 21 years sort of mellowed me down, it also brought out the more kikay side of me. I lost five pounds in the initial two weeks of my low-carb dieting (Yes, I’m finally dieting! Haller, like that's long overdue?!) and I am maintaining my current weight. I also plan to lose 10 to fifteen more pounds. Although I don’t see myself as too fat, I am in fact overweight AND obese. With my height deficiency, I’d better shape up lest someone mistake me for a sack of rice! Aside from doing something with my weight, I finally acquired a liking of dressing in bolder colors. My wardrobe has been shouting boring over the years with jeans and shirts without much accessories. Though I haven’t shopped lately, I have ransacked my mom’s cabinet for fab finds and had turned a few items into accessories. This morning I even went to mass with a melon colored blouse, gorgeous jeans, fucshia stilettos, and a fucshia hanky scarf around my neck to match. That’d make some cringe. I cringed myself at these colors a few months back. But not today, baby. No, I was actually digging my outfit. And it did it for me! I’m no Carrie Bradshaw look-alike but I had her spunk rubbing off on me today even if it was only for an hour or two.
If you have been reading my previous blogs or if we have been talking in the past months, you would know that in the first four months that I was in here, I was becoming more opinionated to the point of being combative. I was constantly in mood swings that had to do with my confused state of emotions regarding my stay here in the province which I felt impeded personal growth. Growth that I could only get from working away from home. Now, a month after my “retreat” in Manila (which was spent more actually on talking with friends most of which are not satisfied with their jobs), I find myself being more calm and agreeable without being reticent. I actually even have small chit-chats with my mom now which I realized I missed a lot. Although I haven’t dropped my kontrabida tendencies (I still chastise her for eating too much mayo, and bread, and cheese and a lot more stuff ), I’ve dropped my bugnutin attitude which I acquired during the first part of my stay here. It feels so much better.
Although 21 years sort of mellowed me down, it also brought out the more kikay side of me. I lost five pounds in the initial two weeks of my low-carb dieting (Yes, I’m finally dieting! Haller, like that's long overdue?!) and I am maintaining my current weight. I also plan to lose 10 to fifteen more pounds. Although I don’t see myself as too fat, I am in fact overweight AND obese. With my height deficiency, I’d better shape up lest someone mistake me for a sack of rice! Aside from doing something with my weight, I finally acquired a liking of dressing in bolder colors. My wardrobe has been shouting boring over the years with jeans and shirts without much accessories. Though I haven’t shopped lately, I have ransacked my mom’s cabinet for fab finds and had turned a few items into accessories. This morning I even went to mass with a melon colored blouse, gorgeous jeans, fucshia stilettos, and a fucshia hanky scarf around my neck to match. That’d make some cringe. I cringed myself at these colors a few months back. But not today, baby. No, I was actually digging my outfit. And it did it for me! I’m no Carrie Bradshaw look-alike but I had her spunk rubbing off on me today even if it was only for an hour or two.
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