three-day weekend

thursday night. while driving from work to church, my mobile beeped with the message alert tone. was turning into a street and saw a large orange orb hanging low in the night sky. i thought, whoa! funkee moon!!! stopped car at a red light, turned to look at my phone. one of my best guy buds sent this sms: holy cow! look at the moon! both of us saw the full orange moon at almost the exact same time, and thought of the same thing. tried to take photo of weird moon. failed miserably. got home from rehearsal around 10pm. extraordinary occurances involving celestial bodies = 2.

woke up bright and early the next day, reached church a little past 8am. spent the whole day setting up the venue. left 6:30pm, before the technical dry run started. got home, had dinner, then went to my sister's benefit concert. stayed there til 10:30pm, when dad called me up and told me to go home. what are you still doing there? you said you're tired, why aren't you coming home yet? for the record, did not tell him i'm tired. mom asked, i said yes. fact - mom tells dad EVERYTHING. planned to stay at concert til it was over to help sister, but dad had other ideas. ok. upside - before i left, saw brad turvey. saw brad turvey look in my direction. saw brad turvey do a double take when he looked. and there was nobody within 5 meters of me at that moment. cute model-chefs checking me out = 1.

saturday. cut my left index finger during breakfast. again, got to church just past 8am. fixed up the rest of the production set. was handling packing tape and a cutter. cut left index finger again. finished setting up play venue. helped cast with make-up. 3pm - showtime. 4:30pm - show ends. damage control on some props with hot melt glue gun. burned left middle finger. went out for a sundae with friend. not too happy with sundae. got back 6pm. watched cast rehearse dance routine. had quick dinner alone. helped cast with makeup again. 7pm - 2nd show. 8:30pm - cleanup. group prayer. photo ops with cast and crew. cleanup again. got home 10pm. injuries on left hand due to carelessness = 3.

finally got enough rest on sunday. went to church and did official church duties. got home around 2pm, took a nap til 3:30. woke up, had chocolate cake (thanks sis!) and headed for greenhills tiangge. went to exchange an oversized blouse. saw other stuff. got other stuff. ran out of cash and went to atm. discovered payroll got credited over the weekend. got cash. saw more stuff. got more stuff. went home just in time for dinner out with family. items purchased at bargain stalls = 6.

went to bed past 11pm. got to sleep close to 1am. woke up past 3am. (just guessing.) couldn't go back to sleep. finally got up 4:30am to get ready. waited for dad to finish getting ready to go to airport. saw stars from backyard. (note to self - best time to stargaze in city is one to two hours before sunrise.) left house 5:15am. got to airport 5:45am. saw sunrise, with matching silhouette of airplane taking off. left for gym. pulled over when phone rang. dad. don't drive around with your windows down! it's dangerous. roll up your windows! ok. "what a wonderful world" moment over. got to gym past 6. workout, sauna, shower. go nuts donuts. head for work. nature-appreciation moments = 2.

end of weekend.

nyaaaaaaaaaaa

again, the client from h*ll called me up at the most inopportune time. when i was supposed to take my coffee break. grrr.

again, he asked for some "minor" revisions on the plans. note the quotation marks.

again, he was requesting things that were outside our scope of works.

again, he voiced out things that should have been considered way before any of the drawings were begun.

again, he was considering certain options, and wants the plan to be versatile enough to accomodate his whimsical decision-making.

again, he dragged a 10-minute conversation into a 30-minute monologue.

again, he wanted to know when the architectural drawings will be done.

when he stops being irrelevant, that's when.

which translates to never.

four words, mr client.

get.

off.

my.

back.

drained, detached, dysfunctional

oh. and i forgot - dead.

*sigh*

i've been getting really tired these days. so tired that i sleep through lunch. every day, for the past week. maybe it's because i haven't been going to the gym. which is because i've been pretty busy. which is probably the reason why i'm tired. repeat.

missing lunch means missing mundane office conversations. and in truth, i don't really miss it. i don't miss them talking about people i don't know or care to know. i don't miss the hollow chit-chat and laughs that come with it. i don't miss squeezing in with ten other people at the lunch table that normally would fit only six. nope, i don't miss it at all.

i am not my normal self these days. normal being unbothered, un-stressed, generally happy with where i am and where i'm going. normal being capable of stomaching shallow inanities of people with much smaller dreams than i, smiling and appreciating whatever level of friendship they can offer me, satisfied with where most of the hours of my day is spent. unfortunately, normal does not happen often.

all of a sudden i feel like my time is no longer my own. yet again.

i have to do this, i have to do that, i have to be someplace or another. not by choice. sure, at first it was a choice. i chose to undertake this project, and that one, and so on. i did what i'm supposed to do out of the love for whatever it is i'm supposed to be doing. but now... the successive doings became more of a chore. it's no longer a choice. do i want to be there? not really. but i have to be. part of the package.

maybe i didn't really think things out when i made my decisions. common pitfall of an impulsive doer. but now that i'm here... no turning back. can't very well just up and leave when i don't feel like doing. my parents have taught me as much. damn them for making me so responsible.

all i want right now is just the chance to actually DO WHAT I WANT. i need to feel that i'm in control of my time. MY TIME. the twenty-four hours that i have in a day. MINE MINE MINE. unfortunately, i have to work nine hours in a day. plus the travel time of one hour going and coming. plus one hour lunch break which is spent at work, anyway. so that just basically takes up HALF of my day. HALF. i only have TWELVE HOURS left to myself. and, being the sleepyhead that i am, eight of my twelve hours is spent sleeping. i can't function normally if i don't have at least seven hours of sleep. so that leaves four hours. one hour for my morning routine and breakfast. one hour for dinner and bedtime prep. so i only have two hours. which sometimes gets eaten up by metro manila traffic. so essentially i have zero hours to myself. ZERO.

those days that i DO have those two precious hours... i often spend in church-related activities. bible study. sports ministry. theater production. things i do outside church are limited to gym visits, book reading, writing, swimming, and the occassional dinner or movie. these days, it's just church production and bible study. which is why i feel like i don't have my own time.

everyone else is looking forward to an extended three-day weekend. i have a church production, plus a sunday. which means i have a total of twelve hours to myself. if i'm lucky. whoopee doo.

i know i shouldn't be resentful of the time i spend doing church work. but some days, i just am. lord, forgive me.

of moms and men

meet my mom. conservative, paranoid, nosey, suffers from ADD and selective amnesia. suspicious of any non-blood related male whose name i mention more than twice in my lifetime.

example #1
mom : you're going out?
me : yes, i'm going to meet *guy 1* to discuss the church play.
mom : where are you meeting?
me : just somewhere nearby, along *street name*
mom : when you have your meetings, is it just the two of you or are you in a group?
me : sometimes it's just us two, sometimes it's the whole crew...
mom : and today?
me : just him and me.
mom : how long is your meeting going to be?
me : just a short while, we're just going to iron out a few details.
mom : you've been spending a lot of time with *guy 1* (trailing off)
me : it's just until the play is over. (simultaneously thinking - why don't you just say i stop working because i spend too much time with my male boss???)

example #2
mom : where'd you get that cake? (the ones that come in red boxes and are given away during chinese new year)
me : my officemate gave it to me.
mom : a boy or a girl?
me : boy.
mom : he gave you that for no reason?
me : he hitches a ride home with me sometimes.
mom : and how often does that happen?
me : two to three times a week.
mom : where does he live?
me : in *place between work and home*
mom : he's the only one who rides with you?
me : sometimes. (make speedy exit to avoid further inane questions)

example #3
mom : what happened to *guy 3*?
me : i don't know, he just stopped showing up.
mom : well, that's kind of rude.
me : mmm.
mom : he didn't seem very polite, actually. don't you think?
me : i don't know him that well, mom. (thinking - he has to let me know he's not showing up to be considered polite??? he doesn't even show up often enough for it to be considered unusual to be absent!)

example #4
mom : so how was the movie?
me : it was ok.
mom : what did you watch?
me : *blockbuster movie title*
mom : how many of you were there?
me : three.
mom : just you and two others? who?
me : *guy 4* and *guy 5*
mom : boys?
me : yup.
mom : so you're the only girl?
me : yeah. (thinking - what part of boys don't you understand? and the last time i checked - yes, i'm still a girl)
mom : that's a little... odd. (probably thinking - inappropriate, more like it) what happened to your other co-workers?
me : they couldn't go, or didn't want to.
silence.
mom : so what do you think of *guy 4* and *guy 5*?
me : ma, i've only been in this firm two months. i don't know them that well.
mom : yeah, but what do you think of them so far?
me : they're ok as co-workers. (thinking - might as well cut to the chase) *guy 4* has a girlfriend.
mom : ok.
pause.
mom : how about *guy 5*?
me : he's younger. (thinking - end conversation NOW!)

my mom is probably another reason why i can't have a normal relationship.

*&^%$#@!

words cannot express my extreme irritation at my workmates today.

they wanted an out-of-office activity together. they found out i play badminton regularly, and said they wanted to play, too. they told me (note, not asked, not urged, but TOLD me) to organize regular badminton nights for the office. that was last year, and since the nearest courts were booked all the way until january, i made arrangements for this month. being the smart cookie that i am, i just booked two nights out of the four weeks of february. they wanted it to be every week. someone even said i should book two courts in one night. shyeah right.

so why am i fuming??? today, when we were supposed to play TONIGHT, they told me they can't make it. TODAY. less than twelve hours before the actual play time. oh, and did i tell you that i booked the courts EIGHT WEEKS IN ADVANCE??? and PAID for it in FULL???

if you have problems with commitment, PLEASE don't tell me to make court reservations so you can play "when you feel like it." please don't encourage me to go ahead and make plans - and even reserve an EXTRA COURT - when you can't even say if you are going or not. and PLEASE don't expect me to arrange any more "office activities" at MY OWN EXPENSE, and expect me to be HAPPY about it when you guys leave me at the very last minute.

apparently anyone who makes plans with me is a flake-off. friends, potential suitors, co-workers. flake flake flake.

death in a time of love

yesterday was valentine's day. a day created to celebrate love.

yesterday i was at a wake. a fifteen-year-old boy from our church died the day before. natural causes. i stood at the back of the room, watching the mother sob quietly into her husband's shoulder. i saw the brother sitting beside his parents, struggling with feelings of loss.

i saw pain. it hung like a cloud over their family.

i fought back the tears as i watched them grieve.

then i saw friends and family hug and comfort the bereaved. i saw love. love as real as the pain. and for all the things that seem so wrong, here was something i knew was right.

yesterday a twelve-year-old boy died in a bomb attack in davao. three other people died in general santos, and another three in makati. bomb attacks. i felt anger well up inside me as i read today's news.

Abu Sayyaf spokesman Abu Solaiman told dzBB radio in an interview that the three bombings were "our Valentine's gift to her [President Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo]."

"The defenders of Islam have struck again," he said.

"Our latest operations in Manila, Davao and General Santos, planned and executed with precision by the gallant warriors of Islam, is our continuing response to the Philippine government's atrocities committed against Muslims everywhere," he said.

they seem so proud of their work. to kill a child - is that something to be proud of? can you honestly say to me that your god will be pleased with the pain and suffering you have caused an innocent in the name of religion? i believe in a god of justice. i believe in a god of love.

and to kill is not justice. to kill is not love.

what kind of god do you believe in?

and even if you do not believe in god... maybe, as part of humanity, you believe in love.

you want to be heard. bu you fail to understand - love transcends all languages. if you want to make a difference, if you want to have an impact... try love.

1 Corinthians 13:13
And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.

yesterday was valentine's day.

that day, i saw death in a time of love.

and love in a time of death.

Tonight I Can Write

by Pablo Neruda
Translated by WS Merwin

Tonight I can write the saddest lines.

Write for example, 'The night is shattered
and the blue stars shiver in the distance.'

The night wind revolves in the sky and sings.

Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too.

Through nights like this one I held her in my arms.
I kissed her again and again under the endless sky.

She loved me, sometimes I loved her too.
How could one not have loved her great still eyes.

Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
To think that I do not have her. To feel that I have lost her.

To hear immense night, still more immense without her.
And the verse falls to the soul like dew to a pasture.

What does it matter that my love could not keep her.
The night is shattered and she is not with me.

This is all. In the distance someone is singing. In the distance.
My soul is not satisfied that it has lost her.

My sight searches for her as though to go to her.
My heart looks for her, and she is not with me.

The same night whitening the same trees.
We, of that time, are no longer the same.

I no longer love her, that's certain, but how I loved her.
My voice tried to find the wind to touch her hearing.

Another's. She will be another's. Like my kisses before.
Her voice. Her bright body. Her infinite eyes.

I no longer love her, that's certain, but maybe I love her.
Love is short, forgetting is so long.

Because through nights like this one I held her in my arms
my soul is not satisfied that it has lost her.

Though this be the last pain that she makes me suffer
and these the last verses that I write for her.

i. don't. want. to. work.

i have reached my upper limit. as my friend puts it, it's time for phase 2.

a break. i need. this stupid project has dragged on for three months, and i'm still pretty much where i was two weeks into the it. okay fine, maybe four weeks into the project. the word "revise" has transformed into a curse. say that in my presence and you will get a serious lashing. i am not kidding.

what i would give just to be rid of this pestering client once and for all. i should never have used my personal number to contact him. now he calls during weekends, asking for *insert new curseword in past tense here* drawings, making new or old requests which result in usually not-so major but still headache-inducing *insert plural noun form of curseword here*. what's even more irritating is my boss is fixed in his design style, that is, modern with a lot of glazing WHILE AT THE SAME TIME the client is fixed in his thinking that a lot of glass makes for a less inviting "homely" home. can i whack him now, please?!?!

you do NOT go to my boss to ask for a traditional, conservative, keep-to-myself home. you do NOT tell my boss to cut down on glazing because you feel that his propensity for large square footages of glass has hints of exhibitionism to it. and you do NOT ask for a new design three months into the project after numerous tweakings and working hours which i have rendered trying to please both parties!!!

whack whack whack!!! and for good measure, WHACK!!!

what's worse, the client thinks he has special privileges because we speak in chinese. what, you looking for a discount now??? in case you haven't noticed, this is not a hardware store.

get me out of here. please!

no place for you

there's no place for you in europe.

that's what my dad said after he found out i plan to work there after my graduate degree.

ouch.

it's just like saying you're not good enough.

which he does. almost everyday. not in so many words, but he does.

he's having our new house designed by my previous firm, by my previous boss. not by me, the licensed architect who lives under the same roof and won't charge a single cent for design. but by the firm that paid me beans to do less-than-stimulating deskwork. and he's paying them.

you're just not good enough.

he told me success isn't all about making the grade or graduating magna cum laude or getting second-best thesis. which, all humilty aside, i have done. personally, i know i could have done better. but he doesn't need to know that. besides, it doesn't matter to him.

you're just not good enough.

he tells me what to do with my life. he tells me what i should have done in this or that situation. i have to be smart, i have to be practical, i have to be whatever it is that i'm not. or whatever he thinks i'm not.

you're just not good enough.

and people wonder why i'm such an angry, manic-depressive woman who can't sustain a serious relationship.

for a cause

layout and graphic design by yours truly. background image edited from photodisc library, courtesy of getty images creative

for ticket sales, please contact mike at 0920-9614537.
proceeds of the concert will go to tsunami victims through the UN Food Programme, and to Gawad Kalinga.

i (don't) need a boyfriend

just five minutes ago, an acquaintance of mine sent a frantic message to my cellphone. she is asking me (and all her other mobile-toting friends) to find her a boyfriend. hubby material.

she knew her boyfriend ws cheating on her. but still she chooses to turn a blind eye and play the martyr. she loves him in spite of the things he does to hurt her. this girl needs a good talking-to, i thought. just when i was about to give her a sermon, here she comes virtually announcing that she is in a state of emotional turmoil due to a breakup.

i wanted to whack her on the head. she is the epitome of the passive-dependent woman that would do anything in the name of love - or something like it. i could not believe that there are multitudinous females with such poor self-image that they're willing to spend and/or stake their lives on scumbags and chauvanist pigs.

then again, i'm not immune to that sort of behavior. not that i'd condone womanizing at any given time. but i would - nay, i have settled for someone who is not quite the perfect match, if not the perfect gentleman.

i look back at my past relationships, and i realize that i have a tendency to sell myself short. i have been so emotionally needy that i fell for the first (or second) guy that comes around offering his shoulder to cry on. even though he's not smart. or driven. or stable. or mature. or drop-dead gorgeous. (okay, i just put that in for good measure. it doesn't hurt to have an attractive boyfriend.) the bottom line is, i settled for less than the best. they didn't cheat, they didn't lie, but they weren't really right for me, either. i knew that from the very start. but i went ahead and let myself fall, anyway. hearts got broken, and i can't honestly say that i was the biggest victim. people do stupid things for love. or something like it.

it takes a lot to break off a meaningful relationship. even when you know it's doing a lot of damage. it takes a really strong person to walk away from someone who has practically become the whole world to you. suffice to say, i was deluded enough to think i was that person. in my lifetime, i left behind two people who loved me... men i had loved, no matter how flawed and deficient my love could be. i always thought i didn't love them enough. because i chose to give up. not purely out of my own volition, but still, i was the one who decided to pack up and leave. i don't think they've quite gotten over the trauma. not that i ask.

i may have instigated the breakup, but it still hurt like hell. people think it's harder on the receiving end. let me tell you, knowing you made the choice - the painful and difficult choice - of letting go... it's enough to drive you crazy. stark raving mad. you kick yourself for being stupid. and you have to keep yourself from eating your words and run back into the arms that have comforted you so many times. you have to stop yourself from playing the fool. again. and again. and again. even when you know he's more than willing to take you back. especially when. you have to stand firm, because you don't want to hurt him all over again. so you lock yourself up and cry until you run out of tears.

it's been a year and a half since my last breakup. i've never been single and unattached for this long, ever since my first boyfriend in college. i slowly grew out of my emotional dependency. scars heal, and my heart has become so much stronger because of the countless beatings it received. i've finally reached a point where i can say my life is full even without a man beside me. maybe even because there is no man beside me. nobody is holding me back from becoming the strong, independent woman i am supposed to be. singleness has become a choice, not just an unfortunate circumstance.

and my broken-hearted friend? i told her finding a new boyfriend is not the solution. i said that she should not to attach her worth as a person to some flake-off of a guy. that now is the time to grow, to enjoy being single. she was able to live without him before, and she could very well live without him again. buti ka pa, you're so strong, she said.

if she only knew.

conversations

it was one of those walks we took after work. the ones where we unload all our baggage and eventually move to our views on the profession, on our plans, on life in general.

he was griping about his old job again. it reminded me of myself a year back.

... the fact is shit rolls downhill, and you happen to be at the lowest point.

yeah, that's true, i said, and in my case, that's where the problem comes in. i'm the type who doesn't take crap from anybody.

yeah, that's another thing about you. it's something a lot of people misunderstand. they think you're... but you're not. i mean, to me, it's just work, don't take things personally.

my mind started buzzing. i'm what, exactly??? he didn't say. i didn't ask. but the word bitchy comes to mind. i've been called that more than once, and i'm not surprised. i have a tendency to yell at people who don't get off their fat asses and do something productive. i also don't like freeloaders, manipulators, and people in authority who lord it over you all the time. to some people, i'm not just intimidating. i'm downright scary.

a few months back, i went on an asking spree. i asked different people one question - am i intimidating?

no, but i can see why some people think you are.
personally, i'm not intimidated, but i know people who are.
in some ways, but as a whole, not really.
a bit, 'cause you're overly sociable. (that didn't make sense to me, either.)
'horrific' would be too strong a word. *insert giant smiley here*
no. why do you ask?

i asked my friends. the people who were able to go beyond the intimidating front and realize i'm not such a grouch, after all. i also asked people i just met. the ones who first saw me in a stress-free environment and haven't seen me at my worst. so essentially, my research was lopsided.

what the heck. i know i'm not the easiest person to love in this world. in fact, i'm probably one of the most difficult.

at least i know that the people who love me really made an effort.

and i kinda like it that way.

question of the month #005

okay, this is my last ditch effort to get this thing going. apparently people have more interesting things to do than leave comments on blogs. if i don't get more than 10 responses on this question, i'm scrapping the QOM segment. i might just do random questions when i feel like it.

i've become concerned about health and diet recently. so this month, it's a food question. (yes, i know, it's quite easy to correlate me with food.)



my answer - chicken ceasar salad. the one from italianni's. (i forgot exactly what it's called. and no, i'm not plugging.) it's got veggies. it's got meat. it's got fatty dressing (and hopefully some dairy products) in it. it's got cheese. (more dairy.) it's got croutons (there's your bread and cereal group.) and it tastes good!

i've heard some people live on bacon and eggs and beer their whole adult life and live to be 80. i've never met them, but they're probably americans.

your turn! leave your comments. PLEASE!