Hey guys!
I just want to greet every one of you reading this post right now a very MerryChristmas!
May this season give you your heart's fulfillment, and happiness that will transcend this season.
Hey hey! So let's make this Yuletide gay! :-)
And here's Eartha Kitt to entertain you with Santa Baby.
Isnin, 19 Disember 2011
Just so you know, ten days after my last post, I'm drunk again.
My first time to attend a corporate Christmas party, and my first time to attend my company's Christmas party.
All I can say is, I'M DRUNK.
me on the left with my colleagues
"fun fun fun fun looking forward to the weekend" ♫
Khamis, 8 Disember 2011
Life is a huge experiment. The more experiments you make, the better.
Selasa, 6 Disember 2011
I like companies that encourage their employees calling their bosses or almost everyone by their first name, without title or whatever honorific. I also like love company offices that have toilets that are well-stocked with toiletries, have bidets installed, have abundant tissue and have soap dispensers at each cubicle -- they really understand employees that are challenged by the number 2. I like companies that don't care how much tattoos their employees have. I like companies that even organize parties, mixers and drunk nights for their employees. I like companies that have shuttle services for commuting employees -- saves me gas!
I'd like company offices that would have sleeping quarters. I'd also like smoking areas per floor (damn it. i'm like on the 14rd floor and it takes forever to get down for a ciggie break).
blah blah blah.
Isnin, 5 Disember 2011
omg i'm supposed to blog something today but i'm too tired to type my eyes are heavy they're falling asleep without my consetnzkasd;l'a]jdsnk;;;;a lajsthjkassbhjnknsxaaaaaaaaaaaaaa
Because I was too tired to go out after work yesterday, I decided to just stay in on a Friday night and watch/re-watch movies I've downloaded. It's just about time I get to watch some of what I've downloaded so I can delete them when I don't like them or whatnot.
Obviously, like what the title contains, I re-watched "He's Just Not That Into You" last night and I honestly think it's an annoying addicting movie and actually quite factual in some instances. Annoying because I hate Gigi, and addicting because Bradley Cooper's in it. I first watched the film on the first day of its release here in the Philippines. It was just timely as I was just trying to move on from a major break-up with this guy who didn't really give a damn about our whole situation, and set-up. And I was just a tad too naive back then to realize that I was just too dreamy on my ideas of our relationship. A jerk period.
Anyway, I'll fire away the lines I've learned from the film that are actually true, at least for me.
"1.If he’s not calling you, it’s because you are not on his mind.
2. If he creates expectations for you, and then doesn’t follow through on little things, he will do the same for big things. Be aware of this and realize that he’s okay with disappointing you.
3. Don’t be with someone who doesn’t do what they say they’re going to do. If he’s choosing not to make a simple effort that would put you at ease and bring harmony to a recurring fight, then he doesn’t respect your feelings and needs.
4.'Busy' is another word for 'asshole'
5.'Asshole' is another word for the guy you’re dating.
6. You deserve a fcking phone call.
7. Don't be flattered that he misses you."
Of course I copied these from somewhere. It's just impossible for me to memorize 7 lines from a movie, yes?
Khamis, 1 Disember 2011
Some of our bosses from the States are here to train us and help us adapt to our job's tasks and responsibilities. As soon as one of them spoke, I felt something cringed inside me. I suddenly missed New York. He had this really thick Brooklyn accent that I couldn't help but become nostalgic while he was discussing about stock indices and the meta trader platform.
I started my first job just this Monday. I'm in a multinational financial services firm, in research. I love my teammates! I can't say that I'm loving my job right away, since it's only our orientation and training period. But I think I'll have a good time here. Come on, if it's in this list, then it has to give me a very good time!
anyone want to take a guess which famous office is this?
you get a treat! you can get a postcard from me haha!
Aside from being part of Fortune's 100 Best Companies to Work For, at least in our office location, the company also has a good density of good looking guys per square office area. We occupy some 4 floors from the building, and every floor I'm in, I see a good selection of office eye candies. Props to the guys in the HR!
Well, even if I am already feeling better, when I got discharged from the hospital last week, the doctor still prescribed me to take paracetamol until this Friday. And because I'm still taking Zoloft, I've been sleepy most of the day and obviously it's not good especially when you're on your first days at work. But good thing there are things rather persons that inspire yours truly in the office to be more alert. It's also a good thing that today, November 30, is a national holiday, a good day to keep up with lost hours from sleep from being a bum to a whatever-colored collared guy that I am now.
Now that I have work, what about my love life? Although I'm not rushing, but like what Freud said, "Love and work are the cornerstones of our humanness." Whatever. He's just out there. Somewhere. Maybe opposite my desk. lol
Because I just got out of the hospital yesterday, and I can still feel the IV needle as if it's still inside my skin, I realize that most of the time we just take our health for granted.
Last Sunday, I was admitted to the hospital because of continuous high fever. It started Thursday night, like a thief in the night. I couldn't breathe well, and my body started to ache so bad I couldn't move comfortably. The culprit, Dengue. I could have died! A patient in a neighboring room in the hospital died because of complications from the virus.
It was really hell that I felt.
Never again. Unfortunately, survival from the virus doesn't mean immunity to next infections. What only I could do is to be cautious.
Today while riding the bus going home after a successful job interview (I'll be starting work on the 28th), I suddenly remembered my first one night stand experience. I was at Beijing that time for a conference, and it happened the night before my flight back to Manila. For my naive 19 year old self that time, it did create a lot of dramatic thoughts in my head, and uh, heart(?). I've never slept with someone that I've not been with a relationship before that, and it took me a month to get over the fact that it was all just sex. And the person was in a relationship, and he cheated with me.
Well who would have thought that after that happened, I'm still the same person. Sex is still sacred. But sometimes when you're just too horny to remember your principles, you don't know.
There's a thin line that separates animals and humans. Animals will do everything to survive. Humans are also animals, but have civilized manners, morals, values and principles. When you're horny and really decided to have sex, you won't really think about manners and principles. We all know that we don't have those in bed.
I'd really like to study again. It's been only almost 5 months since I got out of college, but I already miss studying. Honestly, I wasn't really the very hardworking and smart student. Maybe I was, in some degree, and in some of my specializations. However, generally speaking, I was just an average student who enjoyed occasional merits.
Yesterday, a friend and I went to this international graduate school tour that was held in a hotel somewhere in Makati. We were a bit late, because my friend, a girl, wanted to look at her best. Perhaps she thought she could be accepted on the spot. The registration started at 12.30 and we arrived after 13.00 when the first seminar already started. We only got to the part where it was question and answer. I'm a big question-thrower. I always believe that if you don't ask questions, you won't have answers. Also, I'm not a cat to get killed from curiosity. So I did ask a question, more of everyone can relate to: "We all know here that Filipino students' pockets aren't as deep and wide as the students from your localities. I would just like to ask if there are special mechanisms or programs your institutions have to provide support for students struggling to cope up with the higher costs of living in your countries? And also, please enlighten us the laws of your countries regarding students who want to work. Thank you and I hope you'll enjoy your stay here in our country."
I mean, that's the reality. A lot of us want to study abroad because of the better prospects we can foresee on the other end, and the better opportunities that await us when we return as employers in this country are big fans of foreign degrees.
The seminar panel members had a difficult time answering the question that it took 15 minutes for them to answer it. I mean like come on, did they expect someone to ask about their countries' policies? But even if it took time, they still managed to answer in line with few segues.
Soon, the questions just became tougher to answer. As if we were in 'Jeopardy' playing a game of giving the best questions as answers. This is what I hate in seminars, when people who try to appear intellectual ask questions to appear to the audience that they actually have minds in their brains.
Anyway, I did something naughty yesterday. I was having a wonderful time talking with one of the British university admissions advisers when he had to excuse himself as he had noticed that the queue behind me had snaked so long. He just asked me to sign this paper to keep contact with their admissions office and gave me two name cards. One from the school and the other was a personal one, which got me confused. So I told him he might have mistaken giving me two cards, which he immediately responded 'no' and winked. With overt reasons, the other one's for a different purpose. How bellend-like and how kinky. Well, fine he was .
Since it was Guy Fawkes last night, a 'weekend friend' of mine invited me to join this themed party at some British pub. Because I had nothing to do and also no one to come with, and because this 'weekend friend' isn't single and so are most of his crowd, I decided to give the Brit him a call on his hotel room. And he was free. Guy Fawkes at the pub was cool and he actually had some attention and participated a lot, and drank a lot like his countrymen. Later that night, we didn't burn a 'Guy', but his bed felt like it was burning.
I like smexy guys. Smart and sexy. Before I left him, we talked more about each other. He studied in LSE and played lacrosse and water polo for a team. Blah blah blah. But whatever it was, it was just one night. But he was a bona omi, and I'd do him again if he'd like to. I don't know it's just me, but I felt that we had some sort of connection, other than physically/sexually. He added me on Facebook. Nice. I hope I passed the first screening for my master's.
It's funny that I've been quite 'active in bed' since September. Just in time when the weather gets a little nippy. And also just when I started taking my psycho meds again. Who says psycho drugs can lessen your sexual drive? Whatever.
* a weekend friend is a friend you associate with only because he/she turns out to be efficient during weekends when you want to drink, party, for free
** a bona omi is a good looking lad in Polari
Because it was a long weekend in the Philippines, due to November 1 and 2 being on a Monday and Tuesday, my parents decided to spend the weekend at our summer house 2 hours south from the city in Tagaytay. The weather was crisp and pleasant, but it was really cold at night. The sky was also low, that visibility was low as well.
you can even still see the city from our lanai
We only decided to head back to the city on the last day of the Days of the Dead, which was awhile ago (I'm writing to you at midnight), as we knew the crowds in the cemeteries and traffic on the streets would swell down during this day, which proved to be true. My parents did their thing, ancestor worship, while I did my own version.
this is my lolo's grave. in Filipino, we call our grandfathers 'lolo'
he's my dad's dad
Aside from giving him flowers and lighting him candles, since my lolo loved eating french fries from Jollibee, a Filipino fastfood chain, we decided to give him some.
And me, I just lay/sat on the grass feeling the earth move and enjoying the quiet of the cemetery.
I hate being the cause of stern emotions in the group of friends. It's not entirely my fault. And it wasn't something I want to happen. It was actually something I was avoiding, that I thought I halted from happening.
You see, my close female friend's heteroflexible boyfriend was so drunk on my friend's birthday that he asked to dance with me that night at the club we were in (here we go again with drunk people). This time, he was already getting touchy-feely until our friend joined us to dance with us (good move!). I think I was obvious in my body language that I'm not enjoying the situation. He's hot, yes. But he's my friend's boyfriend. You'll have to be extra-prophetic about the conclusions that will happen if you're not being responsible enough. So after having a dance a la menage a trois, I sat down at our table and fixed myself a drink, or fixed drinks, while talking to the other people at the table.
And then, I had to excuse myself to go to the toilets. As the urinals were all full, I proceeded to take the vacant of two cubicles inside as I can feel the leak on the way. After peeing, as I stepped out of my cubicle, my friend's boyfriend was there standing and waiting for me to get out of the cubicle. I knew he was waiting for me, as there were already vacant urinals, and the other cubicle was now empty as well. And all of a sudden, without warning, he locked my lips that I couldn't breathe! He was kissing me! French! Yes, WITH TONGUE! It was intense! He then let go of me and after that, he painted his face with a sinister grin like those perverts in movies. I didn't know how to react because first, he's drunk and I don't know of what else he's capable of doing when drunk, and second, he's my friend's boyfriend! So my witty self decided to just play along, telling him "well.. you're not really the best kisser.. and also not on my list. Better luck next time," and I grinned also copying his. Then, as if he heard nothing he said, "let's have a threesome! in my car.. with [insert friend's name here]." So I dragged him to the sink area, and grabbed a lot of tissue to damp his face with water, and told him "next time.. I didn't douche my ass.." And I think he sobered a bit, and apologized, which was a relief as I don't know how to explain my friends how come it took time for me or us to return to the table. So we went back to our party, with his arm comfortably rested on my shoulder. Honestly, I'd say I think I saw a few raised eyebrows, but I just set aside whatever dirty thoughts of mine and convinced myself that this party is meant for good vibrations.
The night ended well. However it's what happened the next day that made me realize that it wasn't over yet. I received a message the following night from an unregistered number in my phone, saying "heya mark. how's it going? you were cute last night." So I replied to ask who it was, thinking it might be someone else. Well obviously it wasn't, and he wanted to meet me that night and was willing to come to my house. I don't know what I was thinking but I actually said yes to it, maybe I was thinking that we would clarify the events of the night before. But he didn't. He just went ahead and continued being flirty, that at some point my hand was on his hard-on. Although this time he was sometimes sincere, telling me how sorry he was by the way he acted last night. I just had to ask this simple question if he finds me attractive, and he actually does. He said he sometimes mesmerizes at work thinking about me and whenever I'm not present at a friend's gathering, he wonders why I'm not there. I find him a sweet lad, actually, but I kept reminding him that he has a girlfriend, who happens to be one of my closest friends. Unfortunately, my friend actually knew that he was a bit bent on his sexuality, as he told me. However, my friend doesn't know that I also share the place of being an object of his desire. Such an unfortunate situation to be in. Anyway nothing happened that night. Well, alright, he kissed me, but this time with my permission, but just that. Well, he happens to be a good kisser when he's sober. But the kiss came with the deal that it would be the last, and nothing more. And should he really find it impossible to control his fooling around, at least, not with me. He may be sweet, but still he's just too provocative and too aggressive in a sexual way.
I'm honestly not thinking clearly, and my shrink agrees with me on this. These days, I tend to have a big mouth that I told one of our other friends, who happens to be her best friend. I thought that she wouldn't tell her, and she would sympathize with me, or to recognize my being selfless, but she didn't. In the end, she too had a big mouth. She didn't just tell my friend, but all friends in our group. Thankfully I do have a few other groups of friends who are keeping me company, and they haven't learned of what has happened yet. The weird thing is my friend who's supposed to be mad at me, isn't. But I think I was also the cause of their relationship to be on a cool-off. I can feel she's appreciative of what I've done. Perhaps the boyfriend explained to her that I am faultless in this situation. Because of that, I love my friend even more, as she has this impression on me that she chooses friends before her boyfriend. Of course, we are both harboring awkward feelings toward each other, but in our group, she's more relaxed than the others like as if I committed a crime of adultery. Well, someday it will be through. It honestly makes me a bit more depressed and anxious, that's why my shrink is starting to prescribe me some meds again. But this time my shrink isn't giving me Prozac anymore. I'm on Zoloft now, which I think is milder, but gives me a lightheaded feeling, which is swell. So tough times, and to be tougher, the tough has to get going.
Selasa, 18 Oktober 2011
I was chatting with a friend just now. This friend is a bit close to the guy I had a date with whom I talked about yesterday. I was trying to fish about the guy, asking about her friends, asking about him, giving her an excuse because I saw him some time before and we had a good reception. She told me that he's dating someone -- and that this someone is a woman.
Weird. Alright, so okay, move on to the next guy, then!
I'm not really the kind of guy who would give my base to any guy I'm on a date with. I'm not really easy. Well fine, of course, it depends on my mood, my timely feelings, and obviously hormones for me to stick to this rule. But whatever, I try my best -- and it has been successful with a rate of maybe 64% -- not to bed someone that fast. You know, I'm still naive about sex. I believe that sex is sacred, and you only go to bed with people whom you really love. Although I do sometimes believe that sex can give you love. Whatever.
Remember that night that went wrong I posted a few months ago? And remember that I also got approached by this guy before my kill-joy friends nabbed me away to take care of their drunkenness? Well, it turns out that he's also figured my profile on Facebook, and went ahead to add me. Of course, I didn't approve his request. I'm still quite insecure of my Facebook profile and how it might affect the impression prospective partners will have from it. So I just messaged him, and clearly explained that we had common friends and I wouldn't like to make lies to our friends on how we'd met, especially if they might discover about this under their noses, when we were under the influence of alcohol to flirt like and yadda yadda yadda. In reply, he suggested that we'd just meet, telling me that he is sincere on meeting me over decent dinner, to prove to me that he is indeed sincere. I accepted the invitation to have dinner at some place near his pad, thinking that he might be really into me in a sincere way amid the flirts we exchanged that night.
The dinner happened a few weeks ago, on a Saturday. I still remember how he dressed to the nines that night. I was expecting him to look all business attire-ish, but it appeared that he took time to have a shower and change clothes. I give people who show effort a lot of points. He's a pretty interesting lad, working in some marketing cum public relations firm, and 4 years my senior. He has a master's degree from a famous school in Barcelona on a scholarship, and is very literate in a lot of languages. Another plus of points with multiplication this time! He said he's been single for nearly 3 years. And has been looking and lurking around in search of love, as what he said. And I believe him then. We ate Thai cuisine and drank Singha while talking about each other's life's stories and finding commonalities. I'd say that we really have a lot in common, and maybe similar feelings for each other that time. But I don't know, there was this some other feeling in me that was uneasy. Something telling me to be not fully entrusting.
That night I made a mistake. For whatever reason, I found myself making out with him at his pad's doorstep with his left hand's fingers running through my chest trying to unbutton my shirt while the other hand was scrambling to switch on the light. The foreplay was intimate and passionate. It seemed to me that the start of romance commenced while fooling ourselves at dinner with our feet brushing each other's legs, while discussing serious life and relationship matters. The mistake was I cut it short, and with days of thinking and soul-searching, I think the reason I cut the romance short was because of my rule that I won't bed someone on the first date. Even if I feel dignified that I chose to stick to my values, I feel that I just lost a good part of my life. Because after that night, communication turned zero. And today, while I write this, my heart feels crushed. Because the first time I did when I woke up was to call him but because he wasn't answering, I texted him, only to have not even a single reply.
So yes, I'm still single. Although I regret what I did, I know I learned that it's alright to break personal rules, especially when the chemistry feels perfect. Damn and now I feel horny.
So I'm sorry if I'll have to drag you to this photo dump. But enjoy!
I went to New York last year from March to April. It was really freezing during the first days. But I've been to NY for numerous times, so the bipolar weather isn't really surprising.
sorry for the poor quality. might have been good if i was the one taking it
but that would be impossible unless there was a huge mirror in front of me
I stayed at Marriott Marquis at Times Square and had a pretty good view of the center of the universe
a line of yellow cabs! and of course, the Scientology church!
I really can't believe Tom Cruise believes in this uhm, 'belief'
and then I saw the Naked Cowboy and his freezing ass!
then of course I rode the Subway because it was the most convenient mode to go around
but it didn't cause my breakouts for the record
and then I saw this really cool off-broadway show called Fuerza Bruta. it was innovative which involved a lot of audience participation and was absolutely FUN. I highly recommend it!
The truth is I really want to tell my parents the truth. The whole family. It gets tiring to keep a big secret from them, especially when you're just a couple of years away when they would ask about settling down.
The big secret that I'm gay.
My brother has known of my preference for a long time now. Even before I came out to him. He may not have shown me his acceptance the first time I told him, but his tolerance from the day he realized and the day I came out to him are just enough for me to be really grateful to him. Well even if we share condoms and lube, that is. He's straight, by the way.
My brother is overly-protective of me, and I always feel touched when he shows this side of him to me. Whenever I get into trouble, he would always be there to defend me. He's older than me, and we're only two, and he better be defensive for his lil' bro. As I'm close to his friends and when his friends and I are in tension, he's always there on my side, even if it was me who hath wronged at the start.
I can sense, and feel it that he supports me of whatever I am. Whenever I see his friends, they always tell me how proud my brother is of me, and how much he loves me. My brother happens to talk so much about me. Which is like me when I'm with my friends.
But my parents.. oh yeah, my very conservative and very religious parents. I don't know how to handle them sometimes. It's tough when you're all watching TV and all of a sudden a sensitive topic is discussed and they get so angry. Topics like abortion, divorce, gay marriage -- topics that every hardcore Catholic mom and dad would be very vocal against. It hurts me to know and foresee that if ever I tell them about my topic, I might face damnation.
I'm a very secular person. Perhaps because I've grown up elsewhere and I've grown up with diversity, and finding common ground with their people was a challenge. Religion was of course out of the question. But I did have a lot of friends and even with the distance, we're still 'close'. I may have my stance against abortion, but I respect the choices other people make. Their choices aren't for me, but for them. It's their responsibility to make, and like each other's responsibilities, we treat each other with respect.
I still believe in God. All religions believe in one God. We just call God differently. Faith is something important. It's something invisible, but you can feel that it's strong. When I feel losing grip on situations, and nothing else to cling to, I always think about my faith. Maybe faith can explain what else is there for me to exist for.
But religion, it's just not for me. How can I entrust myself to believe in a set of beliefs, when one of which I can't seem to believe in. When rather than feeling you're in the right path, you would feel being the wrong one all along.
God is love. Love is a good feeling. God is good. Homosexuality may be a sin in the church I go to, but I believe there's nothing wrong with me. What's really wrong is the people who keeps on believing that they're on the good side because they're associated with what they think is good. But what's good for them can't always be good for everyone.
I love my parents very much. I just wish they'd be happy for me as well. They're really good people, and I wouldn't turn out to be like this if it weren't for their upbringing. They're already getting old and I want to see them be happy for me as I am happy for myself. I want them to know that the faith they planted in me still lives, and is very personal to me. I want them to know that it doesn't matter what kind of religion or faith it is, but the importance to believe in something superior, almighty and all good, that is enough. All relationships that are bonded by the purity of love is blessed by God. Whatever it takes for the person to love God more, and have a better relationship, is special, and good. God is love.
Although my parents don't know I've realized that religion isn't for me, I still come with them to hear mass every Sunday. Usually we attend the evening mass since the weather has cooled down a bit, but since the beginning of this month I've started to cut Sunday morning sleeping hours because my dad wants us to attend the 9am mass.
And also since we changed schedule of attending mass, I couldn't seem to concentrate on the solemnity of the celebration. Some guys don't really have the respect and wouldn't mind what they're doing in front of God. And it's been going on for two masses now. The same guy. He looks at me, and keeps on looking, and giving weird gestures. And flutters his eyes at me.
He may be a bit good looking but what in the wonk is he doing? Is he in his good mind to flirt with someone inside the church? Also he acts too much camp. And I wouldn't like that.
Really, now. What are people doing in churches these days? Tabarnak!
Yesterday, another jobless friend of mine and I walked around the financial heart of the metropolis to submit applications in various agencies, companies, embassies. Yes, we were walk-in applicants, and clueless if there really is an open position. It was one of the most difficult things I've gone through chasing careers, but I don't regret doing so. It was fun, especially when you do it with a friend. Thankfully a lot of offices were accommodating even collecting our resumes, and some were just so stern to say that they don't have any open jobs at the moment and never hesitated to get our resumes. We were never interviewed, which was fine, as we don't have an appointment with the HR. But sometimes it felt like asking "who are we? didn't we graduate from a good school and got good degrees? don't we have good credentials etc.?"
It was also hot and humid yesterday. And we were both wearing corporate attire. We also had to debate with a few security guards for us to be let inside certain buildings. Even if I have a lot of issues from yesterday, come to think of it, most of them were actually things that were expected to happen.
We just weren't warned that jobhunting can actually cause you to have altitude sickness and mild claustrophobia. Really. As we went out of the last elevator we were in, we both felt sick and dizzy. I think I rode the elevator some 30 times yesterday. And there are actually a lot of types of elevators. Some are just too fast, and some are too small.
But we're going to do this again, next week, until we land in an interview and finally get a job. So beware! Say "Hi!" if you see us!
For now, I'm calling various offices if they have positions. It's to save us from being a bit aimless like yesterday.
Oh yeah, remember that post when I said something about having a lot of interviews in that week? Well, for all of them, I only went to the initial interview. Some of the offers were either too low or too offshoot from my experience, while some just never called me again for the second interview.
Ten years ago, all of us in the family slept in the parents' bedroom as we shared tears on one of the most humbling moments that defined the century, caught on television. We called relatives to know how they were doing, if they were safe, if they were sound.
9/11 was such a melancholy. To see one of the greatest cities in the world to fall victim to a coward act known as terrorism. To see such the most powerful country in the world be humbled in some event that ocurred in a Tuesday morning.
I am not an American, but I am a New Yorker. It is depressing to still hear about the stories made by this catastrophe. I do not live in New York City, but I am a New Yorker. We are New Yorkers.
I am not an American, I am Filipino. But even if 9/11 didn't happen in the Philippines, my life and the world as a whole had changed as a result from the events of the Tuesday morning in September.
I may have a thousand reasons to loathe America, but I can find a million reasons to love America. I♥NY
Growing up, my parents really exposed us to different cultures even if they themselves came from very diverse backgrounds. But I'm not going to delve on that.
I hope you know that for some 300 years, the Philippines was under Spanish rule. We were colonized thrice, twice by Westerners, and once by the Japanese. So it's no joke when we say we're really Westernized Asians. I think our language is 30% Spanish.
Anyway, my parents do have bloodlines that trace to Spanish origins, and both of them studied Spanish in school when it was compulsory for them to study the language. My mom, coming from an autocratic household in one of the island provinces in the central part of the country, had a strict grasp on Spanish as she lived with her grandparents who raised her "trilingually" with the language in addition to their local language spoken there and English. Filipino, or Tagalog, only came to her mouth when she left for Manila.
That was how my mom grew up. And in time, that was also how I and my brother grew up.
When we were based in Brunei, my parents hosted a Spanish au pair as they wanted us to be exposed in a language that they were also exposed to. They also felt that they were losing grasp of their Spanish tongue. I remember, Irene (pronounced as "ee-reh-neh"), from day one she was with us, talked to me and my bro in Spanish. I remember that it was such a nightmare because we really had a hard time grasping what she was saying. Like come on, a stranger suddenly appears at your house, and talks to you like you're long distant cousins, and eventually she lives with you for 7 months and you can't understand much of what she's saying. It felt like we were living with an alien!
Until she started taking Malay lessons then she began to practice Malay with us to help her. And then as if in an instant, Spanish became a mutually-intelligible language to us.
I never had the proper training of speaking Spanish, that's why until now I can't do so. Yo puedo hablar español, pero un poco (I can speak Spanish, but a little). But if I were to pull on a conversation with a Spanish speaker, then maybe my tongue would just roll in if I needed to reply in Spanish. Although I can't speak decently, I can still grasp the meaning of a lot of phrases. I think the mutual intelligibility of the language has stayed in me. It's weird. My Spanish vocabulary is poor, but it wonders me how I get to understand what they say.
Well I listen to a lot of Spanish and Latino music, and nowadays I'm hooked to listening to Reik, which is a Mexican trio (and they're hot too! like muy caliente! y sus video hay igual esto mucho caliente). So this song's called 'Peligro' which means 'danger'. I'm confident of the meaning because Filipinos use the word too, if not saying 'panganib'. Anyway, I'm going to write down what I think the guy's telling in the song. He's singing in the Mexican accent, which is different to what I'm accustomed to. But yeah, let me try to translate it for you. It's a fine and catchy song, so you'll like it.
(I) was not able to.. estimate distance Made a mistaken turn... such typical story and in an irrational, electric pulse my heart races in your direction.
I am sickened, by your mood swings Automatically, I still have thoughts of you If I take a step further We won't get back, since we didn't return.
Over and over again I have to fight myself
I live in danger and again I'm running in fire You kiss me and I fall in your gamble Danger/risk of falling Lost in your voice Can't hear my own sixth sense
You use on me, your hipnotizing voice Again I'm coming to you, (being) illogical (I) don't know how to cross, a maze that I built Wanting to get over you
Over and over again, I stumble back to you.... (then it repeats its chorus -- the "I live in danger..." line)
I really don't know. Is it a gift or what? Maybe I can be a Spanish-English transcriber. Interesting, no?
And what about you? How many languages can you speak? Understand? I can also speak Malay and Indonesian as they're mutually-intelligible as well. In total, I think I know how to speak some 7-8 languages in varying degrees.
Isnin, 5 September 2011
Funny to say but, I get nostalgic when I hear my dad's loud snoring. Reminds me of my teeny days back in Brunei where I often sneaked out of the house. The go-signal for me to sneak out depended on the volume of his snores. Cute.
Some time this week, I woke up from a very weird dream that it felt so surreal that in the last visions of my dream I was also lying in my bed and when I woke up, of course I was doing the same, but with the same position that I was having in my dream.
The dream was so vivid that I can still remember a few but important details.
It started with myself with some important people to me at the airport. Apparently I was flying out as there was something about my career that needed to bring me there. Then after scenes of myself inside the airplane, there I was, in some country I believe is in Europe. In my dream I was inside a cafe having a chat with the waiter in the local language I can't seem to decipher what it could be. But I think the topic was interesting that the waiter decided to take the seat with me as I was by my lonesome. It was cold, as I was still wearing layers even if inside the cafe. Soon, my brother arrived with a close friend whom I haven't seen for a long while now and haven't even talked to. So it was me, my brother, my friend and the waiter having some chat inside the cafe. Some time after, it started to snow heavily and then this is what made it weird: my ex appeared.
First, he was just outside looking through the cafe's glass panel, and maybe since he saw me, he decided to come in. And then and there all of us were having a good time amid the cold. Until my ex and I had to excuse ourselves when the snow stopped. As soon as we went out of the cafe, he threw his arms around me so quick and hugged me tight that it was impossible to breathe. Then the next scene of the dream was me and him lying in my bed. Then this was when I woke up.
It doesn't end there. When I woke up, I looked at my phone to check the time when I saw I also had one message coming from my ex.
Here's the deal. I haven't made contact to my ex for such a long time already. Even if we're in good terms, and we're both happy for each other, the last time I saw him was before he left for Korea. And the last time we've spoken or talked was two years ago. He's Korean, actually. And the reason why we haven't talked is because he was doing his military service which started in 2009. But last week, he got discharged. He's not in the Philippines. And we didn't meet here, we met in Brunei.
Anyway, guess what he messaged me. "Hey! How are you? Just to let you know, I've already been out of the service since last week. Telling you now because I actually had a dream of you last night..."
It's weird how your subconscious plays on you.
Anyway, I'm sorry I haven't been updating that often again. I'm not really busy but I'm at this point in time that I'm losing the drive to write in my blog. I don't know why. Maybe because I'm having these episodes again? If you also have the same thing that I'm having, I guess you know how it feels when you have it?
Honestly, I want to tolerate my feelings when I feel what I feel.
Sometimes I go whole days listening, bored, half sleep I won't say anything that's worth a thing to me One day, suddenly, time took a turn that once felt so brief I blinked to see polite ghosts fading quickly
What begins as an unguarded train of thought slowly can become An addiction to the slumber of disconnection And the resonance of memory that no longer has a shape But keeps you numb through the hours till gone is another day
Again, I've been away from the blogosphere for such a long time (three weeks, I think). The reasons, are just a lot. But no, I haven't started working yet, and no I'm not busy having sex with a new boyfriend. I don't have a job yet, and I don't have a boyfriend yet. I don't even think I need one right now. But of course, I have a lot of stories for you.
The title is a bit apt for this post that I will share. Well, one of the reasons why I was away of the scene, was because two people close to me have passed on. First, a friend's sister, succumbed to cancer. Second, my late aunt's husband, died at the age of 70. All happened in one week. All happened last week. And by now, I can say that their absence is slowly seeping in.
I wasn't really close to my friend's sister. We went to the same college, entered college the same year, and took the same program, but I was more close to her older sister, who was of the same school and program but a batch ahead of us. Come to think of it, we didn't really have a lot of shared somethings together. In tallying our conversations together, we only had plain small talk. But I do admire her.
It was during our second year in college that she found out she was sick. I heard about it, I thought that it was an ordinary sickness, until I began to be wary when I learned she had to file a leave for absence. Then I discovered that it was actually serious. She had Lymphoma, which was the kind of cancer she had. And what I admired in her, was her strength and her 'straight man' character in dealing her affliction. I have never seen her being weak, and for anything plausible, I believe she fought well until the very end.
Lymphoma is actually treatable, but due to the late discovery of the disease, and the location of the affected parts of her body (between her heart and lungs), recovery seemed a challenge. And so last August 13th noon time, she took her last breath in barter for eternal rest from pain and suffering. The day me and my friends went to her wake, I couldn't control my tears when her mother recounted her last moments with her daughter. It was sad, but I tried to absorb what her mother wanted to tell. That death was the only relief to the pain she suffered. She died at the tender age of 20.
For my uncle, he was already having a stroke before he passed on the 14th, the day after my friend's sister. It was a sad occasion, because his eldest daughter wasn't at his death bed when he died. Multiple organ failure. He wasn't really a direct relative, but he was still part of extended family in my dad's side, and he was family. Being the husband of the eldest of my dad's brothers and sisters, he became part of family decades before I was even planned to be conceived. My dad was even the ring-bearer at their wedding. He didn't even have surviving siblings in a brood of 16 (back in the old times, it was common for a big family, especially in the provinces). Because of that, he became an adopted brother of my father, even if he carried a different surname, and had made my aunt to change her surname as well.
But even how sad it was for us, it also became one of the funniest and happiest funerals I've been to. Seriously. I only cried during the last night of the wake, which went on for seven days, where he was buried on the seventh day. I went there for like five days, and as it's one of those occasions where you can't help but reunite with relatives you haven't seen for a long time, it became our chance of keeping up with the lost time spent with one another, especially with cousins, and nephews!
That's actually what I like about funerals -- it becomes a reunion where the cause of the reunion was due to the most genuine and sincere of sentiments toward the person who has died. As my dad also came from a big family of 12 siblings, relations between brother and sister weren't always that pleasant. But because of what happened, everyone just had to put it aside and be at peace because of course, every one who dies would like to have a peaceful rest.
I was even more excited to see my nephews who talk in cute Aussie accents, as my cousin, our uncle's eldest, migrated years ago to become an Aussie battler and started a family. And also because her eldest son looked like my dad when he was still a kid, I was just amused to see my dad's junior carbon copy talking to me in an Aussie accent.
Being the only unemployed among cousins who already graduated college, I took the duty of being the nanny of the nephews.
Another funny part of the funeral was the diverse customs and folk beliefs we had to observe. In the Philippines, funerals are a sacred event, and Filipinos would like to exaggerate its sacredness by doing a lot of do's and don't's that God knows where they come from and who invented them. I really swear that they're so weird. Just like that it is not good to take home food or anything served to you from the funeral. Normally, funerals here become quasi-feasts with overflowing snacks and sweets. And then, there's also this belief that you have to go somewhere else for awhile before going home from a funeral in order to 'dust off elements' accumulated during the visit to the funeral. We call this 'pagpag' or 'dust off'. And there are just a lot more, more even during the burial itself. What adds more diversity is because my dad's family has Jewish heritage, so we also observe quite a number of Jewish traditions for funerals. Like we don't listen to music, even live acts. Then during the burial, we fill the grave too after funeral service with a shovel pointing down, and after throwing three shovelfuls of dirt, we put the shovel on the ground rather than pass it around. Oh and we don't shave or cut our hair. I know, really weird.
Anyway, yeah it really is sad when you remember the times you still see these people, and then to conclude that you won't be seeing them again (or maybe soon). But we the living have to get on going, as what our loved ones who have left already might have want us to do. I'm sure, where they are, they're in a better place and have found peace. However, I'll still miss them.
Rabu, 17 Ogos 2011
Why?
Why do I think that my friends are the ones who are pulling me down?
Rabu, 10 Ogos 2011
Guys who have issues with my Fruit of the Loom briefs can just leave me and my bed alone. They can start chewing their fake CK briefs on the get-go.
Before, I used to get really intimidated and insecure when the conversation you're in gets in at topics you're not familiar with. Take for example, their favorite TV shows.
I do confess my love for television, my fan-dom for MTV, and my subscription for the best couch potato seat for primetime evenings. But that was then, when I lived life like Cinderella, when I always had to return home before 12mn.
Thinking about my intimidation and insecurity now, I realized that I don't really have to feel such, since it's actually them who should feel a bit ashamed of themselves.
Growing up, I taught myself a lot of new things. New things that I discovered outside the four corners of the television screen. New things I've learned as I distanced myself from radiation. Adventures and experiences that are worthwhile to earn myself this feeling of wisdom and knowledge. Something more informing of what you get on the telly. And also growing up, I always hated my duty of closing my dad's mouth and tapping him so that he could regain consciousness and to tell him that his partner has left him to warm their bed by herself. Until now, he has the habit of dozing off in front of the television set.
Well, while it's all true that the telly is so much entertaining, informative and also innovative, then what about books? What about genuine contact to things that aren't virtual?
There is more to life than Gossip Girl, EastEnders, Neighbours, or whatnot.
What I'm trying to say is, you don't have to feel bad that you don't have the time to watch TV like other people. You should be proud of yourself that you've been doing much productive work than them. Something that really makes sense.
Now for those of you who have the luxury of time to be sitting in front of the TV, please have the openness that not all of us aren't as privileged as you. Don't brag about how much you know of some show we haven't even heard of, but have the notion of being the storyteller, of sharing us the knowledge this show has brought you.
Hey, but TV isn't really bad, like now I'm watching reruns of Queer as Folk.
I am writing this entry, as inspired by Luuworld's very simple question to my previous entry.
Luuworld: Was it a mixed/ gay club?
In Manila, there are no strict straight bars or clubs, and the night scene is very tolerant of whatever sexual orientation you may have. They may exist, but with the social set-up this country has, there maybe private places where only their members can attend. And before everything else, let me just clarify that in Filipino layman's terms, a club is a discotheque. Same when you talk about bars. Majority of Filipinos can barely see the difference that delineates what is a club and a bar. I think it's because majority of the clubs here have bars. If you say "nightclub" in the Philippines, the term sometimes connotes a different tone, more of the venue where sexpats, pedophiles, and sex tourists would congregate.
To tell you the truth, I haven't been to gay bars or gay clubs that much. I can count by fingers the times I've been to one, and mostly, I only go because a friend asked me to accompany them (yeah yeah, you can tell by now that I really do like chaperoning for friends). Let's just say that it's not my scene, and I only have a handful of gay friends. I'm even more closer to my straight friends who have been open of my sexual orientation and have been ever-supportive of my decisions and my lifestyle. I love them so much, even though they fail me at times.
that's me on the end with a sheepish smile and
my gay club-first timer Japanese friends
I also have a funny story about the last time I went to a gay club. It was during my Japanese friends went to Manila for a short visit, and they didn't have decent clothes to go to hip straight clubs. In gay bars and clubs, the dress code is almost non-existing. The rules are more relaxed, but I think you still can't wear flip flops. So on to my story, me and my tomodachis just went to a gay club, since it was nearer to their hotel and none of them have been to one before. At first I was quite hesitant of bringing them thinking that they wouldn't like it and they wouldn't really enjoy it. But they actually did! I think we were the only tourists there, and as Filipinos, being one of the most hospitable races in the world, we had free drinks on the house and also a lot of the other patrons enjoyed my tomodachis' company. Probably because they were unassuming of such encounter to happen in a gay club, I mean, in a Filipino gay club! Then we went to the other places, since we were in a gay district. But again, I was a bit paranoid at our last stop because one tomodachi tabled a gogo boy!
my friend, and her purchase that night, a gogo boy
Anyway, back to the general clubbing scene in Manila, well if you've been to Los Angeles and have checked the night scene there, chances are you might be nostalgic of each other's nightlife when you're in one of the mentioned. It's just that in Manila, most of the "hottest" places are strict on the attire, requiring smart casual or something collared, and covered shoes for gentlemen. Short pants is no entry. So in here it's more aesthetic when it comes to the dress code. The ladies can actually wear anything just that they can't wear short pants as well, flip flops, and I don't know. I'm not a lady, so I really don't know. The trick is to to look extra-decent. So if you're wondering if you might be overdressed, then you might be wearing the right attire. Anyway most of the trendiest, most happening venues, I believe, have their web presence. So if you need a guide on what to wear and what to expect, you can always Google their website. For example, this is the website of the club we went to last Friday, and you can see at their FAQ their dress code.
Now on the topic of 'sexual segregation' in Manila's clubs, again, it rarely happens, except of course the management of the venue has the understanding that there may be something vulgar going on. Taking for example prostitution, public indecency, cottaging, etc. Again, I'm not really a clubbing type of a person, I'd rather just have intimate long dinners with very close friends and drink a little with our own pace, or enjoy good music at live gigs of local bands we love, or have a quick road trip out of the city. And should we want to go have a drunk night, we'd rather do it at one of our homes, so that it won't be scandalous and it would still be comfortable for us. It's also cheaper, since you don't have to pay exorbitant prices from the grocery where you buy the poison of choice. By the way, I'm more of a wine person, and I love Argentine Malbecs and German fruit wines.
But if ever I get the time to go clubbing, I seldom visit the gay venues. Have you ever heard of the type of person who doesn't get checked out at gay bars and clubs, but gets lucky when it's at a straight one? Yeah, I'm one of those. Mind you, they get to be my types too. Haha! And I get more free drinks, both from guys and from innocent girls!
Well, I hope I got to give you readers an insight on the clubbing scene in Manila, on my perspective. Always remember to keep safe at all times.
Have you ever experienced seeing overly-drunk patrons leaving a bar or club on a wheelchair being pushed by a bouncer? Really embarrassing, right? I mean, it's really shameful. We even used to laugh at them. Now, have you experienced that kind of situation happening to you?
Well last night it happened, to my friend. It was one of my high school friends' birthday last Wednesday and ever since we turned 18, we've been always hitting the clubs to party and celebrate her occasion. It was just last night that things got out of control, that we ended our night of partying in the hospital. I'm serious about this. No, no one was seriously hurt, but some things got out of control, and the people themselves were hard to control as well.
I promise, after last night I told myself that I'd like to have kids rather than have VERY VERY DRUNK friends. My god.
'better' times: that's me, my friend who got hospitalized, and the hostess of the
birthday party who also got (annoyingly) drunk. some three friends followed after this photo was taken, so we were 6
We got into the club at around 11pm. As you know, the party only starts at around 12 midnight at clubs, or at least here in the Philippines. The original plan was only to chill and have some round of drinks and relax while having fun inside the club. We were lucky we even got to have a table that we paid for 10,000pesos ($250 approx).
So as the birthday girl, she ordered what she like, Absolut Kurrant. I think Vodka isn't really a very strong drink, unless you binge on it. And that's what we did. We got 2 bottles, with sprite to make Vodka7. We only finished one, and some 1/4 of the other.
At 2am, that's when my friend started puking, and drooling, passing out, and then a repeat of that. First, she just wanted to go to the washroom to re-groom herself, but then she already passed out in the washroom, and I was told that someone had to climb to get inside her cubicle to get her out from there. And as soon as that happened, the bouncers were called, and she was just so drunk for the club to let her in again.
I was already a bit crass and annoyed on why the f*ck
did they let this happen to themselves
whenever I'm feeling that I'm almost drunk, or tipsy, I just calm myself and
take a chill pill while lounging and smoking a fag
I, on the meantime was having the time of my life. I don't know but, there's always something going on with myself being lucky with guys whenever we celebrate this particular friend's birthday. Last year, I even get to make out with someone, and managed to exchange a few numbers good looking guys. This time, I got approached by this very cute and masculine guy. He was really freaking my style! He had a good sense of fashion, and had a good height for me to tiptoe to kiss him. And he's got a tight bod. Oh and his name was Aiden. I swear, my world just took a pause like I felt that the gods have finally decided to reward me of my good deeds. He invited me to dance, to that song above, which if you've heard the lyrics right, really fitted our situation and connection in there. The place was jammed and a bit overpacked that our bodies were on friction between ourselves. So he asked me, "do you slow dance?" And I said, "well.. I don't really dance but, I didn't even have a prom (long story).." Then and there he grabbed my hands and placed it in position around him. It was the sexiest thing I've felt for such a long time. Until when the song ended... just when I was about to exchange my number with him, one of the friends who was sober called me that we had to leave, as she relayed what happened while I was having pleasure. Of course I had to excuse myself from him, and to go somewhere I would hear the audible out of my phone. Then after the call, as I searched for him back in the crowd, this other friend grabbed me and she just killed the joy I was having. We went for the exit. And in this club, they have a special exit for people who aren't in the position to function normally. Yes, they have a drunk exit area.
my friend, who will later be in the ER, on the arms of a bouncer
now on a wheelchair, with the bouncer holding a box filled with her puke
It was really serious. It was 2am. And what the f*ck, the party just started! I'm not even a clubbing person, but whenever I get the chance to, I really make the most of it, especially now we're celebrating a friend's birthday. There were three of us who weren't drunk, and we felt we were just chaperoning the whole time (not much for me, though). The other three, there as you can see, one can't even stand by her own. The celebrant by the way was so drunk that it was my first time to see her being like that -- annoying and very hyper. Mind you, she works as a preschool teacher, but with the way she acted last night, it appeared like she was just her own student. And she kept on on standing up, and running towards the entrance of the club only to be chased by one of her sober friends. And she was screaming to have her let go. And she couldn't stay at one place. Soon other drunk people at the drunk exit/lounge showed up, and we almost got into a fight with the other drunk groups because she was uncontrollable. Her non stop blabber. It was such a bacchanalian I tell you. The other drunk one was tame, which was cool because we couldn't handle everything. I was attending to my friend who will get hospitalized.
Some two hours after, my friend was still vomiting, and the drunk celebrant already came back to her senses. Now, all of them realizing how weak our friend was, panicked and got paranoid when she suddenly was getting chills. For me, in my history of drinking, you get chills after drinking when you drank way too much that the alcohol level in your blood is very high. Anyway, they all got more alarmed when our friend was too pale. Then again, I think if you're having chills, that means your body temperature is below normal, which explains the paleness of skin color. But whatever, don't trust my judgment since I didn't train in the medical field.
So back to the story, as they realized the bad state our friend was in, they deemed the best thing to do to her is to rush her to the hospital. They all got in my car, and I drove to the nearest hospital. She even barfed inside my car, and it was a relief that she barfed on the floor not on the seats.
Well of course I don't have a picture to share here of what happened in the hospital but anyhow my annoyance still continued on.
At first my celebrant friend was hesitant to inform the parents herself of what happened. So as to our friend's boyfriend. But she did, after my constant insistence, telling her that whatever happened to our friend, will not be her fault, but her responsibility. She was acting cowardly, when of course in default we are all in her responsibility, since she was the one who invited us to celebrate with her. Do you get the point? As we were waiting for our friend's wards to come, we were scanning on the pictures from the camera that were taken that night, and the celebrant friend couldn't even remember some of the pictures that were taken and the scenario when they were taken.
Soon, the parents and the boyfriend arrived. Good thing was they were all calm, as our friend was now in a 'stable' condition. She was given the general IV after all, but there was no need of confinement (of course). The celebrant even asked the nurse if how's our friend, and he said that our friend looks like a typical drunk person.
Anyway, I'm just really thankful that nothing serious happened to our friend, and that we all didn't get this drunk. It's enough that only 3 from our group got drunk, but one of them needed to be rushed to the hospital.
But if you would ask me, on the whole experience, I was really disappointed and pissed, so much on the celebrant. Of course I just wasn't showing it earlier because it's just going to make the situation worse, and our rationality is low when under the influence of alcohol. The lesson is, no one will not always like to look after someone all the time, that's why we need to be very responsible of ourselves all the time, because not only are we accountable for ourselves, but on some occasions we are also accountable for others.
The other lesson is, it's not fun anymore when someone is not having fun. Drink moderately.
ps. on the guy who I danced with: I used my stalking powers on Facebook and found his profile. We have a common friend, so I think it's not hard to reconnect with this romantic and intimate guy (he slow danced with me, remember?!?!!)
Jumaat, 29 Julai 2011
I just have to say that sleeping on a bed of new sheets and being under a doona on a rainy morning is just one of the things that I live for.
and now I have developing dirty fantasies of the new clean white sheets. behave!
I noticed that the last time I updated this blog was more than a week ago, which for me is bad because I don't want to neglect blogging anymore and even if my thoughts aren't diamonds, I think blogging is such an essential tool for your mind to function critically even if you're away from the workplace or from school.
So I've been busy applying for work the past week, submitting applications and portfolios to numerous offices and agencies in the metro. Also passed résumés to a couple of embassies, which are in line to what I've studied in college. The nature of the embassy jobs are really not much my very cup of tea (they were more of a public relations thing), but because I've never had any decent job experience yet, and because I believe I am qualified for the job, I took the risk to apply. Both haven't made any contact since I passed them my applications, which I believe would happen maybe some time next week because the deadline for sending applications is by Friday, but the other applications that I have passed other than the embassies, a few have responded and I'm already booked for job interviews this coming week.
But come to think of it again, I would really like to work inside an embassy. I've been told that embassies here do give a lot of benefits, and as being someone who has interned in one as well, my boss even reimburses the taxes I pay when I go shop at the grocer or even at food -- or just whatever receipt that clearly says I was taxed.
When I was still in Brunei, my friends who were kids of diplomats would never forget to invite me if they would have a diplomatic reception. My ex of course never forgot to invite me. And yes, he was some embassy's attache's kid. And I loved everything I experienced while being at one. So some three weeks ago, I was invited by my Latin American chief-of-mission's daughter friend to her country's national day's celebration in one of the swankiest hotels in the metro. So I went and invited this guy over, and acted as he was my date, even if he doesn't know what my thoughts were. LOL
alright so you know what country already
(but still I have to edit the photo to protect the identities of the 3)
And while I was there, rubbing elbows with Manila's elite and Manila's diplomatic bosses, I had this deep sense of belonging. While I was chugging myself with canapes like arepas, choripans, and Merlot, I was so in the zone having small talk and engaging in deep conversations with other diplomats. It was kind of like, I was seeing my future.
Of course I know the reality that my career does not limit to attending diplomatic parties. I know how it happens inside an embassy. To tell you the truth, in my internship in that one embassy, it took me only a month to get so stressed out to decide to leave their office and search for other internships around. I felt incompetent, especially that the embassy I was in was small, and I had direct contact to the ambassador and a couple of attaches. I think, other than the receptionist, I was the only one who does not have a graduate degree in the office that was in charge of major tasks. Also, I came in at the most stressful time, from my understanding. The tour of duty of the ambassador was about to end in one month, and of course he had to deal with a lot of responsibilities he had started before saying adios Philippines. But yes, I'm giving it another try. I'll join the national foreign service when I have the full-confidence and esteem to be part of it. I'm not rushing anyway. I'm still young, and I still have a life ahead of me.
So last July 2, I finally graduated. If only I was hard-working enough to finish my thesis on time, then I might have graduated last year. And if only I also had the concentration and the focus too. And lastly, if only I wasn't clinically depressed, then I might have graduated on time.
And yeah... whatever. I graduated anyway. So, I'm officially unemployed.
the happy parents
and the happy friends
I didn't get to grab any special awards or special mentions. I was just a normal college student. I was quite active with my extra-curricular activities, but I guess the graduation committee didn't see them as noteworthy to mention during my address. But it's all alright, because what really matters to me is that I'm done with this chapter, and I'm all but ready for the next in life. Throw me whatever you want, life, and I'd gladly fetch them.
The feeling I got when I was on the stage to get my diploma, I felt like "wow, so this is how it feels when you're getting out of a rut." With each step forward, it felt as if I'm moving on.
College was not really sweet to me, especially on my latter years. But whatever happened, whatever it felt that I was losing battles each day, I felt like I was winning friends and their support. Cheers to you, my friends. I would not have ended this chapter without you rooting for me.
I am not an American, but I am a New Yorker. It is depressing to still hear about the stories made by this catastrophe. I do not live in New York City, but I am a New Yorker. We are New Yorkers.
