When I was a kid..
When I was a kid, I believed with all my heart that I was going to be a writer. Armed with an old Olympia typewriter and an entire ream of bond paper, I'd write about anything that came to mind, which were usually rip-offs of the Sweet Valley and Sweet Dreams books I loved to read. I loved using big words like "coincidence" and funny-sounding ones like "chagrin." Because most words I only encountered through books, I never learned to pronounce most of them properly. To this day, I have an inferiority complex when it comes to pronouncing words. It's no big deal, really, but the way I pronounce certain words has been a running joke with my friends for as long as I can remember.
I took up Comm Arts in college because I still wanted to pursue the dream of becoming a writer. Instead, I found a new dream: to become a famed photojournalist/investigative journalist and submit my articles to PCIJ or National Geographic, whichever was easier to get into. My friend and I became photographers at the school paper and we got the practice we needed. Another perk of the job was getting to ogle at the athletics and volleyball teams while they did their morning exercises. We didn't need an excuse, we had cameras slung around our necks. We were on duty.
I got sidetracked upon graduation. Citibank was the first company to call me for an interview, and I immediately accepted their offer. My first job! It was exhilarating at first until I realized that Disputes Resolution had nothing to do with what I took up in college. It had nothing to do with what I wanted to achieve in life. So I resigned and stayed home for a while.
My next job decision should have been wiser. It was and it wasn't. I gave in to Dad's numerous
parinig
about helping out with the business and came to work for him. My salary was less than what I got in Citibank. The work hours were longer. Nevertheless, I was happy. I felt like I was making Dad's life easier. He worked shorter hours. Mom could go up (our office is like the ground floor of our house) whenever she wanted. They could avail of holiday packages and tours. I felt like I was doing the right thing.
I got bored sooner than I thought I would. Desk jobs never held much appeal for me although I seemed to always end up with one. I longed for longer weekends. Holy Week was the best week of my year. I lived for the days when I didn't have to go to work. Going to the mall was such a treat for me.
Work was depressing for a while. I didn't dare tell my parents that I was considering another job. Because I kept telling myself, third time's going to be the charm. I wanted a job that had something to do with writing. Probably write for a newspaper or be a production assistant on some tv show. I was so envious of my friends who worked for GMA and other media agencies. It seemed like they were living the dream and I was stuck in purgatory.
And then I realized, I didn't need a different job to pursue my dream. One good thing about writing is that you can do it anytime, anywhere. In fact, I'm kind of glad that I don't have to write for a living. Doing so might even make it seem like a chore, like something I'm required to do. Now I write whenever I feel like it and it's great. Because if there's one thing I hate to do, it's the thing that I'm required to do. Like homework assignments and compulsory attendance at my dad's annual class reunion.
So I just needed a different way to see things. I'm not saying that working in the family business has gotten easier. I still get bored to tears while computing receipts. Some days still feel like the clock stopped at 11am. But I think I'm getting better at handling it. It's not as hopeless as I once thought. I can still pursue my childhood dream. Even if I don't get to publish a bestselling book, just getting to vent on paper every now and then soothes me in a way I've almost forgotten. Writing is what I love to do. And I'm going to do it while fulfilling my duty in the business. Who knows what I'll be doing a few months from now. My younger sister is about to graduate and maybe I can persuade her to be my successor..
I love..
Once every week, whenever I'm not too tired, I take my handheld brush, scatter cleanser on the floor, and scrub my bathroom tiles clean. I am so OC about this. I hate it when the tiles become mucky and slippery with what is probably mildew. I go down on my hands and knees and brush the floor with all my might. After I've washed away the soap, the tiles are clean again.
What's ironic is that I'm so lazy about cleaning anything else. I change the water in my fish tank once a month. Once every two months if the weather isn't so warm and not much water has evaporated. My room is in constant disarray. I have a big pile of unwashed clothes in one corner of my bathroom. I'm telling you, I'm a total slob.
But a dirty bathroom floor I cannot tolerate. Same goes for the toilet bowl. I
love sponging the toilet seat with cleanser and wiping it dry afterwards. It's one of my best moments.
wait for the dump truck please
Our house is surrounded by people who are firm believers in burning their trash. Instead of waiting for the twice weekly dump truck, they resort to burning dead leaves, plastic containers, and once, even rolls and rolls of electric wire. We couldn't stop coughing from the toxic fumes.
My dad already complained to the barangay but to no avail. Everyone's doing it, so what are our councilors to do? Round up all the guilty parties and force them to inhale the toxic haze they created? Actually, that's not a bad idea but it might be against the law. Human rights and all that.
I honestly cannot understand why people have to do that. Hole in the ozone layer aside, can't they realize that constantly breathing black smoke is bad for them? People actually
die from smoke inhalation. Now that could become the barangay's tagline in their campaign against "smoke belching."
I Dream of Bora
It's been raining for the past few days so what I did was sift through old pictures and reminisce about the good old days (back when constant sunshine was a part of my day). I found this picture taken last May in Boracay. It was one of the best experiences of my life. Four days of doing nothing but sitting by the beach, listening to the waves, and allowing myself to dream about future vacations and a possible retirement home in Boracay. I think the highlight of the trip was when we laid out towels on the sand and watched the stars and breathed the smell of the ocean. That moment lasted about ten minutes because I was out like a light a few moments after I lay down on the sand. But still, as I type this, I can still remember the feeling of the fine powdery sand between my toes, the night wind on my bare arms and the faint noise of the night owls partying several meters behind us. Definitely one of the best moments of my life.
sundays
Sundays are ideal for playing Dark Throne. Practically no one is online, so these unfortunate people leave their gold sitting there in a pile, tempting anyone with a halfway decent army. I just pillaged close to 4 million gold bars. That may not sound like a lot, but I'm only on level 15 and that in itself is a huge achievement for me.
it's saturday!
I love Saturdays. It's the only night of the week when I go to bed without setting the alarm of my cell phone. It's when I get the most relaxing and longest sleep of the entire week. I have a love affair with sleeping. I can do it at any time of the day. A nap after lunch, another one at 6pm, sometimes even while I'm watching a boring movie. I never knew what happened at Be Cool the movie. I slept through most of the plot.
I wasn't always like this. I used to have a normal sleeping pattern. Eight or nine hours a day and no naps while the sun was up. But my boyfriend, who is positively nocturnal, likes us to talk during odd hours of the night. We'll get started at midnight and say goodbye at around one-thirty or even later. No, he doesn't work at a call center. He just likes staying up at night.
Don't get me wrong, I hold nothing against him. It's my choice whether I want to stay up or say goodnight. I'm just trying to defend my odd obsession with sleeping. That's all. I hope he never gets to read this. :)
Leaving that subject behind, I want to talk about something I read in the paper today. It's an ad from the North Railway Group something something (I've always been bad with names) that defends itself against accusations from Senator Frank Drilon. It started with Drilon attacking the proposed railway that a Chinese contractor is building for the Philippine government. It's a railway that will go from Caloocan to Malolos. He said that it will be the most expensive railway to be built in Philippine history. I don't know what he said exactly, but the gist of it was that the deal the Chinese government made with GMA was shady.
Here's what the North Railway people said in their defense: Drilon neglected to mention that they're building a double railway (whatever that means) which naturally makes it more expensive than your usual railway. Despite that, compared to the existing MRT/LRT railway lines, the one they're proposing will actually cost less.
Also, when the train's up and running, the fare will only be P10 plus an additional P1 for every kilometer. I forgot the exact figure they gave but if you take the train from one end to the other, it will only cost you like 50 bucks. And the trip will only take 37 minutes. Now, isn't that something? We've all seen the sad state our trains are in. The ones that go through South Super Highway look so ancient and dangerous it's a wonder some people actually pay money to ride on them. What our economy needs is a decent transport system that will make traffic a thing of the past. If we solve this one problem, our stock will shoot up in no time. We'd probably have to turn investors down.
Did I mention it was Saturday? I have to go, we're watching The Island at Galle! Hope it's good.
blog..
My boyfriend uses the word "blog" in reference to smoking. "Blog kami" means he's stepping out for a while to smoke with his friend. So when I first encountered the term, I thought it had something to do with tobacco.Yesterday my friend sent me a text message urging me to visit her blog site. Is that how you call it, blog site? When I logged on, however, I realized that I'd erased her message already. I couldn't remember her blog address! I tried using a blog search engine, but to no avail. So I created a blog account for myself instead.It seems weird that I should post my thoughts here for the rest of the world to see. I used to keep a journal but putting my thoughts on paper day after day got tedious. I did enjoy reading my past entries but it still didn't motivate me enough to continue writing. This, however, is refreshing. I've always preferred typing to writing by hand. It's less tiring, not to mention a lot faster. But then again, I can't really write about private matters because anyone can access my blog site. Also, I tend to become more self-conscious and careful in editing my entries. That's the down side of it. But enough about that. It would be nice to start writing again, whatever form it may take. It's been too long since i've really expressed myself. Sometimes I tend to become more of a listener than a talker so all my thoughts are bottled up inside until I can't even remember what i wanted to say in the first place. That sounds a little too melodramatic but it's also true. Sometimes I don't even bother to form opinions about matters since I can just repeat what so and so thinks. Do you know that this is actually the first time I've thought about this? Oh no, it's even worse than I thought!So does that mean I have to write here every single day, just to analyze what I'm doing and what I'm thinking and how I'm feeling? I guess I can do that, but I'd prefer it to be a weekly thing.It's almost 1am and I'm really sleepy. I'll write again sometime.
