brain cramp

i'm supposed to be helping my friend with her pet project. some social-action volunteer work for a non-government organization. editing write-ups of community-based projects. editing BAD write-ups of community-based projects. ugh.

the thing is, i had no recollection whatsoever of committing to this task. i distinctly remember telling her that i was busy the whole of february with our church drama. and i told her i'll tell my friend who *might* be interested. (i never got to tell my friend, though, because i was too busy.) now, i don't know if i was told that the work was not immediate, and with that i agreed to help... as far as i recall, all i said was "i'll see." also, she set a preliminary meeting, which i flat out said i was not going to attend. (hey, i already had other plans.) so i really had NO IDEA what was going on with her volunteer work. lo and behold... one month later... i was sent an email explaining the project, and attachments with the write-ups i was supposed to edit. due in one month. which is next week.

so now i'm cramming. because i really, REALLY did not have time for this. and i really, REALLY had no intention of helping out with correcting horrendous english. and *WARNING: this is now a really MEAN comment* if she wants to go do something for the betterment of humanity and to make herself feel good about her contribution to society, then she can do it without me. AND *WARNING: bitch alert!!!* if she REALLY wanted to help improve the local economy and/or society, then editing stupid write-ups about oh-so-goody-goody achievements of certain non-government organizations and politicians for some SOUVENIR PROGRAMME or commemorative book is NOT the way to go. really.

okay, bitching over. back to work.

photo archive #007

mother knows best

most days i wouldn't think so. but as i age (uh-oh...) i come to realize the value of my mom's kitchen-table wisdom.

take today. i came home feeling sick in my stomach. i skipped dinner and just went to bed. nobody was home, so nobody made me eat dinner. i woke up three hours later still feeling sick. i ate an orange and drank milk. still sick. then mom came home. i told her i wasn't feeling too good. (she's a doctor, by the way.) she gave me some digestive enzymes. (we don't have antacids anymore, i checked.) then she made me eat some toast, even though i felt bloated and really didn't want to eat anything. after two bites, i already felt better. i had to force down the rest of the slice, and another one after, but i did it 'cause mom said so. and i'm feeling better with every minute that passes.

what would i do without her.

i love you, mom.

personal demons

i first heard guster's demons back when i was in college. i fell in love with it right away. the words and the melody are simple, but i never get tired of it. maybe because it didn't get played much, and it still doesn't... probably because the words still ring very true in my life today as they did over five years ago.

Artist: Guster
From the Album: Goldfly
Song Title: Demons

My words confuse you
My eyes don't move a blink
Cause it's easier sometimes
Not to be sincere
Somehow I make you believe
Believe

When I speak I cross my fingers
Will you know you've been deceived?
I find a need to be the demon
A demon cannot be hurt

Honest is easy
Fiction is where genius lies
Cause it's easier sometimes
Not to be involved
Somehow I make you believe
Believe

When I speak I cross my fingers
Will you know you’ve been deceived?
I find a need to be the demon
A demon cannot be hurt

whenever i hear this song... i think of my parents. it's a love-hate relationship between us. some days i love, they hate... other days they love, i hate. most days, i imagine they think of me as the devil's spawn. the day i heard this, i made a decision... to be a demon. and not be hurt. by the ones who were supposed to love me the most.

it's sad that after five years, i still feel the same way about my parents. i am still an angry kid who just got out of her teens, fighting for every shred of independence and getting pushed against the wall almost every time. some days i'm too tired to fight back. those days i realize... i still get hurt. and though i want to, i can't quite play the demon.

back from vacation

of course, the first thing i do is blog. (after i unload my dirty laundry and change out of my beach clothes, that is.)

the vacation would have been great except for the last day. and maybe the first day. okay, fine, the vacation was pretty much yesterday. everything else was not quite memorable (or enjoyable).

thursday - eight hour travel to la union. i drove for three hours through provincial marketplace traffic. ugh. got to la union past lunchtime. waves were rough, couldn't surf. though some idiot of an instructor said we could. shyeah right. should have known better and just stayed on the beach. would have saved ourselves P700. grr.

friday - early start. made breakfast for everyone. hit the beginner's surfing beach by 8:30am. let friends have lessons first. surfed from 10 til 11. not very happy. got out of the water coz friend got smacked in the chin by her surfboard. (yes, there was bleeding.) hit the waters again around 11:30am. forgot to reapply sunblock. back of legs slightly burned. got out of water again around 12:30pm. (hungry, hehe.) was chilling by the shade when new friend walked up with a fat lip. whacked on face with surfboard. needed to get stitched up. friends went to hospital, i stayed on beach. went surfing when they got back. learned to paddle out and catch waves. BIG ones. (okay, fine, not THAT big, but at least they're not beginner waves anymore!!!) happy. gave up board for friend who hasn't gotten hang of surfing, waded in water for an hour. face got burned. ouch. head back to temporary home. friend wandered off to beach, came back saying i shouldn't go out into the water. three people partially drowned, and nobody knows cpr. ran as fast as my legs could take me. praying and silently recounting basic cpr rules. assessment: three men, between forty and sixty, staggered breathing, strong pulse. thanked god i didn't have to apply cpr knowledge for the first time. the men were put on boards and brought to a nearby hospital. our group huddled together prayed for them. for some reason, i got teary-eyed. news was 24 people drowned in that area, 1 girl died. (don't tell mom.)

saturday - group decided to skip surfing because of yesterday's events. the kids (read: the two youngest people on this trip) wanted to go play in the water, so i went with them. (hey, SOMEONE had to be the mom.) didn't want to stay too long because - 1. did not want to get burned; 2. it was freakishly hot; 3. had to pack up and get ready to leave. of course, the kids did not think it was a hassle for me to sit in the blistering heat and watch their valuables while they go frolic in the sea. (the waves were pretty strong, by the way. of course, that didn't worry them. kids these days.) sat around for an hour. stood up, hoping they'd see me and realize that i want them back on dry land. doesn't happen. i walk over. one of them gets out. says she'll stay on the beach, but she'll go buy water first. okay. waited ten minutes. already had sand in eye, in between contact lens and cornea. waited a little longer. still no bikini-clad, tan-line-concerned girl toting cold water bottle. water station was five minutes away. got fed up. left beach and brought said girl's bag with mobile phones to apartment where we stayed. went to room. finally got contact lens and sand out after a full twenty minutes of torture. older girls knew i was pissed. went back swinging bag beside me, saw girl at beach enjoying cold beverage. grr. left belongings with her. went to shower and pack up. realized back of legs got burned during the stupid ninety-minute babysitting routine. double grr. asked someone else to go get brats from beach. washed up, packed up, settled accounts. lunch, the high point of the day. ride back took six and a half hours.

got home, and mom had another surprise waiting for me. like i didn't have a bad enough day. sigh. some days, it just doesn't pay to get out of bed.

and the back of my legs still sting like crazy.

i need a vacation.

news flash!!!

i just received an email from my graduate school coordinator in london. they've restructured the program i will be taking, and they now split it into TWO separate programs. one is the MArch program, which will take 16mos to complete. (an additional 4mos from the original.) the other is the MSc program, which still takes 12mos to finish. what's the difference? hold on, i'm getting there.

the MArch program...

"is mainly addressed to graduates in architecture. it will provide conceptual and analytic design tools and skills enabling designers to respond creatively to current and future environmental challenges in architecture and urbanism. Its longer duration aims to support detailed project development, focusing on real-life projects and encouraging the design, construction and testing of experimental structures..."

the MSc program...

"is addressed to both architects and engineering graduates. it will emphasise the analytic components of the taught course, making extensive use of our advanced computational modeling and simulation tools and aiming to develop a creative collaboration between the disciplines. it follows on the experience of many recent MA graduates who have found very good work opportunities with some of the world’s leading environmental engineering firms..."

i am leaning towards the MArch program, 'cause the MSc course seems to be a tad too technical. (read: boring) i might have to resubmit a portfolio for the MArch program, though. will have to ask the course director. but at any rate, the arch program seems more interesting because it will also cover issues in urbanism. gives it a more macro approach. plus, the experiments sound REALLY COOL. (geek alert, geek alert!!!)

i'm so happy. i've always believed that deferring my studies was a good decision. and this just reaffirms everything. i strengthens my faith in God, in His marvellous plan for my life. it helps me realize again, that if i listen to Him and do His will, things are only going to get better.

some days

Some days I just wish I can go back to the time when the most difficult decision I had to make was which color crayon to use.

When all I needed to feel better was some jelly beans or a snow cone.

When the worst mistake I made can be fixed with a fat rubber eraser.

Some days I want to go back to the time when I could just bury myself in books, and nobody would bother me for hours.

When it didn't matter what other kids thought of me, because I know I'm different, and I liked it that way.

When I didn't have to pretend I wasn't hurt or sad or angry, because everyone knows it doesn't take a lot to make a kid cry.

Some days I wish I can go back to when the world I knew revolved around playgrounds and dollhouses.

When I spent most of my hours in the same place everyday, but I didn't mind because I still get to do different things.

When I looked forward to stormy weather because it's the best time to have a mug of warm hot chocolate. With the tiny marshmallows.

When vacations came on a regular basis, and the weekends were never too short.

Some days I wish time would stop, and I could enjoy life the way I did when I was a child.

Some days. Like today.

d-oh!

i am a first class dunce. up to this very minute, i cannot BELIEVE i can be so STUPID. note to self - do not try to carry on regular dinner-table conversation while sending sms. it WILL get sent to the wrong person.

i should have trusted my initial instincts and just kept quiet about everything. but noooooooo, the girl in me has to come out, and i just HAVE to tell someone. (yes, it's about me and a person of the opposite gender spending a whole day together. i hope you're all satisfied.) and so, splitting my attention between my mobile and the people at the dinner table, i inadvertently sent the message not to my friend, BUT TO THE GUY I WAS TALKING ABOUT!!!

kill me. kill me now.

of course, blogging about it will not improve the situation. 'cause person in question READS MY BLOG. (hey mister, you know who you are, and i know you're smiling. stop right there!!! you are NOT ALLOWED to read anything that comes after this sentence.)

I TOLD YOU TO STOP READING!!! and don't make me put your whole name down in print!!!

sheesh. men.

i only realized my bubu when my friend has not replied in ten minutes. he usually sends back his male perspective on my situation within five . so i texted (yeah, i hate using that verb, but i have to) my friend again to check if i DID send him the incriminating message... and he said he didn't get anything. seriously. so i put two and two together, and just asked the earth swallow me up at that very moment.

it doesn't stop there. being a human with two x chromosomes, i had to verify my worst fears. i asked HIM. and i was incriminated yet again. just shoot me.

he was all nice and cool about it (not like HE has a reason to panic, duh.) and even offered to not mention it again within our lifetimes. which is an okay idea, except that *I* will not be able to just let it go. (do you even NEED further evidence of that?!?!?!) suffice to say, my mobile phone did not rest until i fell asleep much later that night.

i STILL can't believe i did something so IDIOTIC. i absolutely HATE myself. (images of eva mendez screaming into her pillow and pounding her fist comes to mind.)

the implications of my act of temporary insanity are multi-fold. first, it means that i THINK ABOUT HIM. that is incriminating enough. second, it means i think about him enough to TALK ABOUT HIM WITH MY FRIEND. (or friends, if he prefers to think that way.) third, it means i have put SOME degree of MEANING or importance into spending EIGHT STRAIGHT HOURS with him. (okay, i guess that IS a lot of time...) i can no longer pretend IT'S NO BIG THING. (though seriously, i think he knows that, too. he was all "spiffed up" yesterday hahaha!!!) finally, all three previous points ultimately mean ONE THING - he KNOWS (or at least has an IDEA) that i am considering our situation as something that could grow into a serious relationship. and that i am in favor of such. and it's NEVER a good idea to have that all out so EARLY into a relationship. (or something like it.)

cow. cow cow cow cow COW!!!

only god can fix this horrible mess now. i don't think i can ever live this down.

realizations

while the office system administrator is working to restore the network drives, i'm taking the liberty to blog all my random thoughts which i haven't had time to write.

realization 1 - i love working with kids. (and by kids, i mean anyone below age 20.) sure, they can drive me up the wall at times. they're hyperactive and uncontrollable some days. but having them run up to you and say "atsi" in such a sweet voice - like you're the only one who can put their world back together - that more than makes up for all the hair-splitting. when they ask for you, and no one else... when, after a working on something together for even just a month, they suddenly let you into their little world through the simplest gesture like waving goodbye animatedly... something magical just happens. you get this warm fuzzy feeling, and you know you've made a difference in someone's life, no matter how small or insignificant it is in the grand scheme of things. (yeah, maternal instincts growing strong.)

realization 2 - i compartmentalize my friends like i do my things. friends from high school don't mix with friends from college. friends from college or high school don't mix with friends from work. friends from school or work don't mix with friends from church. there are maybe one or two aberrations from each category, but that's pretty much it. i don't know if i make a conscious effort to segregate these people, or it just happens that way. maybe it's a little of both.

realization 3 - i know a lot of people, but i don't have lot of friends. (this i've known since college.) probably because i don't confide in a lot of people. and even when i do, i still "compartmentalize" - i.e. i don't tell them everything about every aspect of my life. work friends don't know about my love life. church friends don't really know about work. and school friends don't know anything except the general direction of my career.

realization 4 - i pack and go. (discovered this during my first job.) which partly explains 3. whenever i close a chapter of my life, i leave behind almost everything that came with it. i lose track of high school classmates. i hardly see my college friends. and don't get me started on ex-boyfriends. whenever i end a phase, i move on. no excess baggage. sort of.

realization 5 - i'm not that memorable. (again, old news.) when people draft up invitations, i'm most likely forgotten. when there's a reunion or get-together of sorts, i'm often the last to know. and most of the time, i feel awkward going to those powows because i hardly know anyone anymore. but i still show up. simply 'cause i know i shouldn't burn all my bridges this early in life. but the rift is so obvious that you can almost taste it.

realization 6 - i'm going back to my childhood habit of biting off more than i can chew. i take on more responsibility than i can handle. i'm not exactly drowning in work right now, but there are days when i just wish i could forget everything and take a breather. and those days are starting to come more frequently. somebody stop me before i self-destruct.

realization 7 - i'm pursuing more creative endeavors these days. maybe i've finally reached my upper limit of banality. my life prior to this has been work, home, work, home, work, gym, home, church, home... and oh, yeah, work. so far, i'm loving the change. just recently took another personality test, and it says my career should be in the field of fine arts. with all the supressed angst just itching to come out, i am not surprised.

what men want

some days i just don't get the Y-chromosome-bearing part of the human population.

take this guy. i've known him maybe two years or more. he's the brother of my friend. (careful now, no incriminating data...) he's cute, and yes, i like him. d-uh. aside from the fact that he's athletic (i'm a sucker for jocks, amazingly.) he's got a killer singing voice. (yes, i'm a sucker for singers, too.) PLUS... (drumroll, please...) he's taller than i am!!! is that great or what???

unfortunately, i can't read him at all. in fact, i've pretty much given up trying to figure him out. some days i'd think of him as just the brother of a friend. other days... well, other days he exerts some extra effort for me to notice him. those rare times we get to see each other, he'll ignore me the whole night. then he'll playfully punch my arm or tap my shoulder to say hi or goodbye, whichever is appropriate. then nothing again. aurgh!!! once, he was asked to perform (i.e. sing a love song) at this event. he came with some other girl. okay, that definitely sent one STRONG signal. but when he was siging onstage... i swear, most of the time he was looking at me. or at my general direction, anyway. and not at his so-called date, who was all the way across the other side of the room. is that IRRITATING or WHAT?!?!

then, just last week, our group met up. he sat beside me 'cause that was the only seat available. i almost forgot that i might be seeing him that night, so i didn't really give much thought to how i looked. but i DID decide to wear a nice skirt and strappy sandals. (okay, kikay alert. it is SO not me. yee.) so i was a bit glad that i looked at least more than half-decent. at some point he playfully kicked my foot under the table. and i pretended to get upset and tried to step on his foot with my three-inch heels. he got clean away, which, in my mind, is totally alright because it meant that he was keeping an eye on my foot, and the leg that is attached to it. (ha. i'm so glad my surfing tan has not totally faded.) then a while later he started playing with my hair. now i didn't grow up in a co-ed high school, but i KNOW that when a guy plays with you hair, that means something. exactly what, i don't know. you tell me.

i'm pretty good at reading into actions, and figuring out people's personalities. but with some men, i'm totally lost. and most of the time, those are the men i like. *sigh* i guess i'm also a sucker for mental torture.

hitch

my gal pals and i watched hitch yesterday afternoon. i was laughing 70% of the whole two hours. half the time i think i was the only one laughing. either i totally get american humor and nobody else does, or i'm just that shallow when it comes to comedies. at any rate, i enjoyed the movie not just for the humor, but also for the definite "aaaaaww..." moments. my friend said every guy should watch this movie and learn a thing or two about sweeping a gal off her feet. actually, she said, "you should have *ahem* watch this movie." oh yeah, like that would work.

it's funny, just last week i was chatting with a guy friend. he was asking for some female perspective on courtship and relationships... in the end, i was telling him what to do and what to say. i was playing hitch, so to speak. except that my intervention was limited to scripting conversations and giving the golden advice of "be honest." the truth is, it doesn't take a lot to make a woman fall in love with you. you don't have to be sauve and sophisticated to win her over. just a little sensitivity (which a lot of men SORELY lack) and a lot of sincerity. add some charm for good measure.

what's compelling about this film (if you can actually say that about a feel-good romantic comedy) is that it's all about relationships. about the things that make couples click. about finding the right one and falling madly in love. yeah, the sap in me just couldn't resist. i'm a closet-case hopeless romantic. (don't tell anyone though, you just might ruin my bad-ass man-hater reputation.)

now here's a secret - no matter how cold or antagonistic or uninterested a woman is, a little thoughtfulness and some romance wouldn't hurt. BUT - i would like to make this very clear - it is not a formula for making a girl fall in love with you. it may make her think of you more often, but it won't necessarily give you happily ever after. when it comes to the spark - either you got it or you don't. if two people are really incompatible, no amount of wooing will make it work. but we women sure get a kick out of watching you try. and we DO give points for effort.

men keep complaining of how they don't understand women, how they don't know what we want or what it takes to win our hearts. well, take a tip from hitch. "basic principles - a woman never wakes up and thinks, i don't want to be swept off my feet today." go ahead, blow us away. take us on a surprise jetski trip. show us something different. something meaningful. something you know would touch our hearts and make us all gushy and sentimental. short of becoming a full-time stalker, i suggest that you do your research. better that than trial and *gasp* error. if a guy would do all those things for me, there is no way i could say no. it gives the clear signal that "you are worth more time and effort than a simple movie or a standard dinner-date." and if you're sincere, we wouldn't think twice about falling for you.

sensitivity + thoughtfulness + sincerity = a woman's love.

i am no expert on men or relationships, but i think that if a man really loves a woman... he doesn't need to be told the formula. it just comes naturally. and that's what we women actually look for. (okay, fine, it wouldn't hurt if he's really charming and says all the right things. it wouldn't hurt if he doesn't take FOREVER to come up to you and ask you out. and it would be really nice if he doesn't dance like he's having a seizure.) wait, let me qualify that statement... QUALITY women are more concerned with the intention than the execution. that's how they discover the QUALITY men.

now that i've gotten that off my chest... anyone looking for love advice???

miss match

(yes, it's from alicia silverstone's latest series. so sue me.)

people seem to want to set me up these days. okay, realistically, it's just two people. but that's a whole lot more than the number of offers last year, which was zero. oh wait, i had one. so there has been a 100% increase. yahoo!

the matchmakers - one is a girl i met on my first surfing trip. the other one is a guy i used to work with.

the pitch - "that guy i was supposed to set you up with... it turns out he has a girlfriend! but he has a friend that he recommends. maybe you know him..." and "so how's your love life? non-existent? hm. well, are you open to being set up? okay, i'll see if my friend is ready. if he's ready for the likes of you."

the bachelors - i didn't get specifics, but based on my excellent powers of deduction, they're out of their twenties. as my friends put it... men over 30 = men thinking m-rr--g-. (it doesn't take a genius to fill in the blanks.) honestly, it never crossed my mind. all i thought was, okay, new person to meet, may or may not be nice. at least i get to know more people. talk about zero expectations.

the implications - my friends think i'm highly marketable. either that, or they think i have little chance of finding the right guy on my own, hence they are helping me out a bit. let's focus on being a viable commodity, shall we?

the results - nothing. no blind dates. people offer, but nothing happens. no dates have been set up. i don't know if that's a good thing, but i'll take what i'm given. and i'm gonna be happy about it.

i love being single. and very available.

epiphany

Pronunciation: i-'pi-f&-nE
Function: noun
Inflected Form(s): plural -nies
Etymology: Middle English epiphanie, from Middle French, from Late Latin epiphania, from Late Greek, plural, probably alteration of Greek epiphaneia appearance, manifestation, from epiphainein to manifest, from epi- + phainein to show
1 capitalized : January 6 observed as a church festival in commemoration of the coming of the Magi as the first manifestation of Christ to the Gentiles or in the Eastern Church in commemoration of the baptism of Christ
2 : an appearance or manifestation especially of a divine being
3 a (1) : a usually sudden manifestation or perception of the essential nature or meaning of something (2) : an intuitive grasp of reality through something (as an event) usually simple and striking (3) : an illuminating discovery b : a revealing scene or moment

definition courtesy of merriam-webster online

while tossing and turning in bed in the wee hours of the last day of february, i suddenly realized my calling. in the midst of all the disjointed thoughts circling in my head, one idea surfaced and stood out.

i was born to be a writer.

okay, moment over.

yes, yes, it's not as earth-shattering as you would expect. duh. i write almost every single day. (except now i won't be blogging as often, because my office internet access has been cut. which merits another entry, but i'll get to that some other time.)

only a few people know that i have been struggling with a minor identity crisis the past few weeks. one day, out of the blue, i started asking myself if i was meant to pursue architecture for the rest of my life. modesty aside, i'm the type who could be good at anything. maybe not excellent or outstanding, but not too shabby either. and i've got proof. (not that these things are really accurate or reliable.) the point is, i can do anything for a living, and chances are i won't go hungry regardless of my career path. so doing what you're good at doesn't really help in determining what i'm supposed to do with my life.

flash forward to february 28, 1am.

if that moment were in a screenplay, it would show me tossing and turning in bed, with the following voice-overs.

"yours is the first article that i gave five thumbs-ups."
"what do you want to do?" "i'm thinking of taking up journalism."
"writers are born, not made." - lualhati bautista, dekada '70
"wow, you really are a writer."

intersperse voice-overs with scenes from my high school life, when i was a writer and editor in the school paper, and literary editor of our yearbook. and images of iq test results saying i have linguistic intelligence, or career orientation tests saying i should be a researcher, writer, or be in some other bookish profession.

maybe finishing an article for a magazine had something to do with it. or maybe it was just something waiting to happen. all i know is, for the first time since i've formed coherent thoughts, i finally know what i'm supposed to do. (okay, maybe this is the second time. the first epiphany happened last year, and that's also another story.)

maybe, amidst all of my dreams of changing the world, the answer just lies in one simple phrase.

the pen is mightier than the sword.

question of the month #006

something potentially amusing for a change... inspired by my "favorite" client.



answer - mispronouncing my first name!!! i can get how you can misspell my name. i can get how you acCENT the wrong sylLAble. but i cannot get how you turn my name into the masculine form and expect me to respond positively, if at all. especially when i have sent at least half a dozen transmittals with my name clearly typed out - proper spelling and all.

for the record, it's

CLARICE
Gender: Feminine
Usage: English, French
Pronounced: kla-REES, KLER-is (English)
From the Late Latin name Claritia, which was derived from Latin clarus "clear, bright, famous".

and not

CLARENCE
Gender: Masculine
Usage: English
Pronounced: KLER-ents
From the Latin title Clarensis which belonged to members of the British royal family. The title ultimately derives from the name of the Clare river in Ireland.

thank you.