Lorey Patis

My Boyfriend is my Number 1 fan

2011-11-08T16:10:00.002+08:00

No one can doubt my boyfriend's persistence to pursue my dream.

Do you know how many times Lawrence bugs me to write? He bugs me constantly. He believes that I am a great writer. This is even when he read a silly little poem I made when i was in highschool.

Ever since I resigned from my job at the bank, all he would tell me is to write. And everytime that I am in the process of writing, he would rejoice. When he asks me what I will do for the day and learns that I will try to write, his replies are more than ecstatic.

News is, I have been stalling.

All my life, I have been stalling. The reason I give to most, regarding me not pursuing writing, is that 'I am afraid to fail'. And when I broke free from my corporate life, I said I will start pursuing this dream. It's been months and no writing has been done.

Now, I don't know why I am stalling. It's finally here. I have the time. I have the ideas. I have the new notebooks, pens and photos. I tried writing. Visiting some of my blogs, reading on current writing trends, sucking all information that could be useful. But when I try to start writing, I end up staring at the blank space in my blog editor. In the end, I get tired and start tweaking with my blog settings and then calling the day productive.

The thing is, I have decided to face the fear of failure. Somehow I now know I can still live and earn money even if I fail as a writer. I've come to terms with that (I'm not really sure about this statement, but hey, it feels right). So why am I stalling?

It dawned on me that I was afraid of failing Lawrence.

I'm afraid that whatever crap I spew out of my mind would be exactly what it is, crap. And I'm afraid that his belief in me would be all for nothing.

This is another fear I have to conquer.

Well, here goes.

How is your employer?

2011-07-12T18:56:00.003+08:00

Last month, I resigned from my work. It's been a looooong process. I have been trying to move on from my company since last year. However, some changes and deals had to take place before I could finally let the company go.

What's sad is that it seems that I'm not leaving in good terms. I recently had the flu and could not go to work. I got texts from my manager that I need to extend my tender for resignation. Instead of leaving at the end of the month, I have to talk to my manager that I may not be eligible to take my terminal leave.

This is what saddens me. I've been with the company for more than a year. They have seen my dedication and they have all seen my productivity and excellence. I have spent more time at the office than with my family. I have sacrificed a lot for a position that they couldn't officially give me.

After all this, I need to talk to my managers tomorrow about tendering my work. It seems as if I couldn't even use my sick leaves to take care of myself. It's not like I'm just lounging around. I was in bed hacking and coughing. I was nauseated, feverish and couldn't even lift myself.

I got a text from my manager that I could be extending my stay with the company. My problem is my last day was supposed to be Friday and come Monday morning, I'd be starting with my new company. Suffice to say it, I cannot extend my stay with the company. Now I have to fight them. It's sad since I was starting to think they really regarded me as an esteemed colleague.

Rollercoaster

2010-06-19T01:27:00.002+08:00

I have been moody since early morning today. Before having breakfast with my HK teammates, I was a little sad. Then I was happy when we had breakfast. When we went to work I was okay until the Celtics lost to the Lakers. I forgot the other reason for my rowdy behavior.

I was a little off today. When night came (with a little date with Lawrence), I thought it would change. However, this bitch was ogling at Lawrence the whole time we were having a meal. (Side note: To the bitch, back off--he's mine! and I mean it.) Then I was bored then I was jumpy, sleepy, horny and tired.

The best thing is that for now, I just feel in love. Lawrence has gone home now. He's probably on a bus trying his best not to fall asleep (because he knows that I hate it when he does that). And me, I'm in my bed still feeling his last kiss on my lips.

Is there a term for when you have so much love for the person it scares, excites and confuses you all at the same time?

I'm scared because I've never loved a person like this--not even my family. I'm excited because I know this feeling is just the beginning and it just keeps getting better and better as evident in the last five years of our relationship. It confuses me because I don't really know how to handle this--I might get pushy or clingy or unlovable in the end.

There's no point to this entry at all. I just have to write this because I do not want to lose this memory (this feeling? maybe). Maybe one day I'll read this entry and know the answer to my own question. For now, I'm enjoying the end of this rollercoaster ride.

Happiness is not that bad

2010-06-13T19:11:00.004+08:00

Today, I felt blessed.

People always say that happiness is a choice. I have been denying this for the longest time ever since I met depression in Grade six. For the longest time, I always denied that I am blessed. When people see blessings, I see flaws. When people look for happy endings, I crave for miserable ones.

Depression, sadness, morbidity and death has been my comfort zone for a long time. Evident in my writing pieces, I can write gruesome deaths and much-more ghastly heart breaks. My family and friends can attest to the amount of negativity my mouth spews per day--whether it be a form of a complain, a joke or a story.

I have never been good at accepting blessings. I'm too afraid to recognize it because I know one way or another it will escape me. So I stick to my bad endings and my negativity; because I know these are constant and I will never be disappointed.

Today was different. Today, I was out with my family and Lawrence celebrating my dad's birthday and my parents' wedding anniversary. Today, I felt happiness. And even though there are some disappointments (e.i., no family spa treatments, Law went home early, etc.) I still felt happy.

Usually I battle happiness with negative thoughts and sudden bursts of temper--but today, I didn't. I simply enjoyed the moment and felt contented.

Today I write (which I don't usually do much these days) because I want to capture this moment--this feeling. Hopefully when time comes that depression comes knocking in my door again, I would only have to read this and ignite one of the fondest memories I've ever had (in the longest time).

Writing

2010-03-07T12:27:00.002+08:00

Last Friday night, Lawrence identified me as miserable.

And for the longest time, I didn't think I was. I mean, I was always stressful and of course some factors (like woman-related happenings) caused my mental state of miserable but I never thought I WAS MISERABLE.

He says it's because I'm not doing what I like.

Currently, I'm in the Accounts Payable line of business. This has something to do with Math and Accounting. This is ironic because I have evaded Math for as long as I can remember. (I have a theory regarding life's ironies, but I'll just blog about it some other time.)

It's been a while since I've written anything. I used to write all the time. And I mean ALL THE TIME. My attention's been called by my many, many, many annoyed teacher when I was writing essays while the class was going on. I use to just sit and then start writing my thoughts down--whether it be on my cellphone or on the back of a food receipt.

When I started working, I don't seem to have the time anymore. I used to wish that there could be a device which records my thoughts so that when I feel like writing, I don't actually have to write--I just think. And then words will immediately be recorded--which I can edit later on my laptop.

I miss writing because I miss making stories. I miss making fun of people or situations in a very subtle and unnoticed kind of way. I miss pouring my thoughts out without anyone contradicting me right in my face (unless the reader would actually come up to me and contradict what I wrote--which doesn't happen because I'm unpublished). I miss the sound of the excited tapping of the keyboard keys whenever I have something to say. And I miss the fact that my writing needs to keep up with my thoughts as they completely zoom in and zoom out on different stories, essays and other writing materials.

I have yet to write about the interesting ideas I have collected throughout my college years. I have yet to write about my opinions on the different places, food, cultures and experiences I have had for the past three years. I have yet to write about my thoughts on my current friendships, past and my hopes for the future.

Maybe Lawrence was right. Maybe I'm miserable. Because I just realize, I haven't been doing something that makes sense--makes me complete. For years, I have written everything down. Even the ugliest and worst essay I have ever read. Now, I write nothing.

This is just so sad.

Destiny

2010-01-27T16:51:00.000+08:00

I often ask myself what I want in life. In the end, I end up being more confused than I was when I first asking it.

Truth is, I'm indecisive.

Currently, I'm working for a multinational bank doing far fetched tasks. Tasks I didn't fathom that I could do. Salary is great. I'm a workaholic so extra work is fine with me. But I still find something missing.

Give it a second. Maybe later I'll decide that this is nothing.

The Afterlife

2009-11-05T19:46:00.003+08:00

Today at lunch I was trying my best not to think about Math. As I have blogged before, I currently work for a bank--which is ironic since I don't know what to do.

Every lunch hour, I sit with my friends (from different teams--not sure why we don't go with our teammates) and discuss everyday topics. For that one hour, I get to stop memorizing numbers, codes, functions, banking groups and other accounting-related topics. I cherish this hour because at last I won't feel like I'm a fish out of water.

However today at lunch, upon meeting a new guy (BA major graduate), Math was all that was talked about. Consider this, I am having lunch with three guys all of them graduating from a Math-related course. One was Business Administration, the other was Economics and another was Accounting graduates.

Again, a fish out of water.

So I talked to them and told them not to discuss Math. This is the only hour we get away from numbers, don't we want to discuss something else?

I really didn't know how it happen but while I was in the middle Beef Steak meal, we were debating whether there was an afterlife or not. My friend strongly believes in Heaven and Hell. His main thesis is that if there's no Heaven or Hell, then what is the purpose of doing good on Earth. Also, there's this part about the soul. That if there's no Heaven, how do you suppose will our souls carry on after death.

Personally, I am torn between believing that there's no afterlife and that there's one just not Heaven or Hell but Reincarnation.

This is what I said to my friend.

To answer his first concern, what exactly does he mean by purpose of doing good? By what standards does he mean when he "has done good"? If it's by his own standards, meaning nobody have pointed out that this is good or that is bad--well then good for him. But humans are such a social animal that will want to thrust their standards as the "correct"or "right" standard. So technically, no one is really doing a good thing. Because what may be a "good thing" for me may be a "bad thing" for others. Does that mean that we're all going to Hell?

I say, we would only hope for a Heaven so that this fear of the unknown--the fear of knowing that there's nothing else after all the suffering, heartache, muscle cramps, disappoints, sadness--will be negated and we'd feel that everything we're doing is adding up to something great in the end. This reason is the reason why I think most of us are not enjoying life at the present. We're somehow saving it for something big in the end. What if there's none? So we cling to the idea of a Heaven when we die.

But couldn't we just have Heaven while we're living?

After the debate, we agreed to disagree and checked our watches. We were a little over the lunch hour that we were suppose to take. So we begrudgingly got up and returned to the pile of work that was waiting for us. I actually felt that my body was more stressed because of the debate.

Well, at least we didn't consume the hour talking about Math.

New world

2009-11-04T19:17:00.003+08:00

I am stuck.

For years I have tried my best to avoid anything Math-related. I didn't take Math in my College days fearing that I would fail even the easiest General Education subject (Math 2: Practical Mathemathics). We used to joke that since both my dad and mom are Engineers, they are brilliant in Math. They fruits of their love (me and my sister) unfortunately was not blessed with this skill because my mom's brilliance and my dad's greatness in Math cancel each other out.

It's ironic that I now hold a job that focuses in Math.

For those of you who I don't meet in my everyday life, I am now employed as a Data Processor in a bank. I deal with numbers and codes and everything that I have been dreading ever since I learned that I have to memorize the multiplication table.

A classic remark was made by my sister last night when she saw the SOP Manuals that I was studying (for an exam the next day). She said, "Ate ito ba yung inaaral mo? E di ba ayaw mo ng Math? Bakit mo kinuha yung trabaho?". I laughed in response to that question.

I only delve into the answer when I saw my exam this morning. I have memorized every banking group and codes and functions and processes; but when I was asked, I completely forgot.

My friend (officemate) told me that maybe I was just nervous or maybe I was just stressing that's why I forgot. If only I could say, "No, I'm not stressing. It's just that I feel like I don't belong in this dimension. Memorizing formulas and functions and payment methods are not my forte--writing is". However, I can't say that. Especially since I am on a contractual basis and needs to be good-on-paper to be regularized (working for a company that takes care of the employees).

I keep telling myself that it's such a good thing that I am on a contractual basis because atleast I could scope the job out first. I may not know it but maybe this is what I should be (I had a dream that I would be working for THIS particular TEAM=sort of a premonition which I will write about in another entry). I still haven't FULLY decided if I want to be a writer or a journalist or a manager or a housewife or anything really.

So now, I'm stuck. I'm stuck with scenario which demands me to cope and adjust. I often throw myself in this situations (I'm not sure if it's because something new and different just turns me on or if it's because I want to learn and grow) ranting about this and that. But come next week, I will be singing to a different tune. Or maybe this situation was simply given to me to prove that I should always listen to my Mother. She always said that I should learn Math because eventually, I'm going to need it.

She's right.

:)

2009-10-25T19:51:00.001+08:00

Breathe in for luck.
Breathe in so deep.
This air is blessed, you share with me.
This night is wild, so calm and dull.
These hearts, they race, from self-control.
Your legs are smooth, as they graze mine.
We're doing fine.
We're doing nothing at all.

My hopes are so high that your kiss might kill me.
So won't you kill me?
So I die happy.
My heart is yours to fill or burst,
to break or bury, or wear as jewelry.
Whichever you prefer.

The words are hushed, "let's not get busted."
Just lay entwined here, undiscovered.
Safe in here from all the stupid questions.
"Hey did you get some?"
Man that is so dumb.
Stay quiet, stay near, stay close, they can't hear.
So we can get some.

My hopes are so high that your kiss might kill me.
So won't you kill me?
So I die happy.
My heart is yours to fill or burst,
to break or bury, or wear as jewelry.
Whichever you prefer.

Hands down this is the best day I can ever remember.
Always remember the sound of the stereo.
The dim of the soft lights.
The scent of your hair, that you twirled in your fingers.
And the time on the clock, when we realized "It's so late!"
And this walk that we share together.
The streets were wet, and the gate was locked,
So I jumped it, and let you in.
And you stood at the door, with your hands on my waist.
And you kissed me like you meant it.
And I knew...that you meant it.

I promise to remember

2009-09-12T22:48:00.001+08:00

The kiss mark on my breast is now fading.

Do you remember when you planted that kiss? I remember. It was your first. And oh how I remember the look on your face when you saw this accomplishment. You had the same look when you were able to defeat the Azuma in Street Fighter 4.

Do you remember that day? We were out on a date and you beg me to let you play the game. I stood elbow to elbow with some geek, waiting for you to finish your game. Beads of sweat were on your head--which is ironic since where in an airconditioned mall. Your eyes locked on a big flat screen as you concentrate as if your life depended on winning. And as the screen flashed declaring you the winner, you look at me with a grin so wide that made my standing awkwardly waiting for you worthwhile. That was how you looked when you gave me the kiss mark.

They say that a kiss mark lasts for four to five days. After that your skin returns to its normal color. After four to five days, there would be no more secrets to conceal--dare I may say--no more shame to hide.

It's such a waste that a proof of love has to be hidden behind a bra, covered up with a shirt (on rainy days, protected by a jacket). My mom would freak if she ever sees this. People don't understand that when an act of love is made, it should be shared with the world. People frown at public displays of affection, the used up condom in the trash or the hickey you sport on your neck. To others, these are unacceptable. To others, these are disgusting.

Oh how I wish I could walk around asking everyone to take a peek at the kiss mark on my breast. How I wish I could explain to them how you have tried giving me a kiss mark for several years and this little one is the first you succeeded. How I wish I could brag about how at the moment you gave me this, I felt your love.

It's funny how you always remember things when it's for the first time.

The kiss mark is fading. But I promise, I'll always remember.

permission to shine shot down

2009-09-01T12:31:00.003+08:00

I just blogged last Sunday how I would turn my life around by completely imitating my real-life Dagny Taggart. I was suppose to give more than a hundred percent in my work. I have been prepping myself to shine this week.

However, reality sets in that before a diamond could shine, it should be scrubbed, chipped and cut.

Today, I got my scrubbing.

Earlier, I was called into my boss' office for the mistake of sending an email to a client. I was completely surprised since before I sent the email I made sure of what I'm going to do and checked with my boss. I'm not sure if I misunderstood him or he misunderstood me but now since I'm getting the scolding, I am to be blamed.

It sucks that I have to be the one blamed for the whole mishap. I guess they're forgetting that I would send such a delicate and sensitive information to anyone with their blessing. I am not stupid enough to trek my own way when I know it's going to bite me in the ass.

When I told my boss that he instructed me to send the email--he denied it and continued lecturing me. He says he must've misunderstood what I consulted to him.

But now, it comes to mind that when we were waiting for a client on last Friday, I confirmed that I have emailed the contact information. He goes on saying that I have to make sure everything is in order... blahblahblah.

In the end, since I'm not an officer, I can't defend myself. I just hope I get over this fast so I could concentrate more on the shining part.

Meeting an Idol

2009-08-30T13:05:00.003+08:00

Have you ever had a conversation with a total stranger who eventually turned out to be your Idol?

I have been in love with Ayn Rand's characters (Fountainhead and Atlas Shrugged) ever since college days. I envy their passion and their intelligence as they run around trying to make their world a better place (without masking it as their intention for all but for themselves). I would always try to imitate their brilliance by making sure I was giving my hundred percent best and loving what I do.

But lately, when it comes to the office, I fall flat in the imitating. I simply can't function a hundred percent because I feel like I've been dragged down a unfulfilling job. That's how I felt for the past three months or so.

And then I met a real-life Dagny Taggart.

I will not disclosed her name because I'm not sure if she would want me to. She is in real estate, selling one of the most expensive condominiums to be put up in Makati. She was looking into our company to provide the design services for her upcoming event that would boost the sales of the condominium.

As we were talking about the details of the project, she goes on telling us about the magnificent product she is selling. A condominium is a hard product to sell. I should know--my mom and dad are in the real estate business. If it was that easy to sell, I would've been a very rich little girl now.

What interested me in her story-telling is how passionate she was with her project. You know when you have that amount of passion for what you do, you inspire people. And since she was in Sales, my bosses were inspired to buy a unit (not that they would).

As I listen to her tell stories about her sales and her project, I was simply mesmerized. This is my Dagny Taggart. Who amidst all obstacles (people's resentment to the project, skeptics, rejections from clients) believes, and I mean truly believes, that she has a magnificent project at hand.

She has availed our services. Just last week, they have given the 'Go' signal for our preliminary designs. And this means that I will be dealing with her--my personal Dagny Taggart. And I vow to myself to always give a hundred percent (with our project together as well as other future projects) as an honor to her--she serves as my inspiration.

Marriage shit

2009-08-21T19:03:00.003+08:00

Today, I resolve my obsession to marry.

I should'nt be too much in a hurry to marry. Insecurity has haunted me since I first realize that life in my highschool sucks. So I have been wondering how come I have boyfriends when I can't hold a candle to the any girl sitting next to me.

So, ever since I nailed the greatest guy I could ever love, I have been droning into my idea of marrying my dream-come-true boyfriend. Especially today, we were watching some game show about newlyweds. The newlyweds were being asked something about their partner. So I played the game with Lawrence.

It was so funny how Lawrence knows me inside out. I have questions and he was able to answer correctly. After that, I realize why should I obsess about marriage when I am assured that the love of my life will never leave me.

So today, I am not to obsess about getting married.

I am however, going to obsess about the Love of my Life, Lawrence.

Lily the PDA

2009-08-19T14:57:00.002+08:00

I have yet to blog about the new Chuck Palahniuk book I read or the super funny Fanboys movie I recently saw. It's been weeks since I wrote anything. Mainly because I have been suffering a slight heartache from my dying Lily, my PDA.

Yes, it's stupid when one gets too attach to a "thing". But I can bet that anyone who says that most probably have a special and sentimental object they vent their love to. It just so happens that for me, it's my ultraspecial gadgets that receive my undying love.

Lily was sick about a month ago (and just after my digicam died). I decided installing new apps even though I couldn't understand the language it was projecting (it was French, methinks). After a few days since the installation, she went into a coma.

Yes, she went into the endless reset loop.

After that, I left her alone--basically giving her rest so that when the time comes, I can revive her safely again. However, my hopes to save her through mindless "giving her a rest" was not a good solution. Soon, her status button were wonky. And eventhough I hard reset and re-sync without that damn French-speaking app, she was utterly ill and could not function well.

I was about to give up when even the experts that keeps Lily alive through tough times (there was once when she randomly reset without me doing anything), the Brighthand people, weren't able to guide me through the illness. I was about to scrounge around my piggy bank to see if I have money left for a new digitizer just so I could keep my Lily.

Good thing that after the NTH time of resetting and syncing, she finally broke out of her coma and came back almost shiny and new. So now, I have to handle her with the utmost care. I realized that Lily is almost dying.

I just hope she lasts until I can finally let go of her and put her to rest.

Obsession

2009-07-07T12:36:00.003+08:00

I am in love with gadgets. Technology never seems to stop amazing me. I always take into consideration the features that I get before I buy a gadget. I had my Nokia 6230 for more than 5 years now, and I think it's time that I replace it with something better. A phone that will mark the "working girl" phase of my life.

So here are my options:

Sony Ericsson G900

It has a 5 megapixels camera with autofocus and LED flash. Aside from that it has Wifi capabilities. It's memory can be expanded to 8GB (Memorystick Micro). It's browser is the Opera (love). OS is Symbian. Oh and it's a touchscreen.

Nokia N79

It has 5 megapixels camera with Carl Zeiss optics, autofocus and LED flash. Also has Wifi capabilities with UPnP technology (I have no idea what that last part is). OS is Symbian. It also can be expanded to 8GB.

So, what do you guys think?

Thinking Positive

2009-07-05T15:56:00.002+08:00

Anybody who knows me, knows that I am obsessed with getting married. Maybe it's my love for Julia Roberts' Runaway Bride and My Best Friend's Wedding but I have planned my wedding since I was in 4th year highschool.

Which is ironic since I proclaim myself as not the type to get gushy with all the chummy romantic stuff couples do.

I've been with my boyfriend, Lawrence, since I was in first year college. I am very jealous and untrusting girlfriend. And for him to still be with me for more than four years makes me dream of weddings.

It also makes me an irritating nag.

See, since I am obsessed with making my wedding perfect, I have been bugging Lawrence to propose. Yes, I am bugging him to PROPOSE. See how irritating I've been? Every conversation has been about, when are we getting married? When will you propose? How come you don't talk about weddings with me? It goes on and on.

Yesterday was no different. I was nagging all the way back home. Thing is, I finally saw Lawrence's reaction to that. And I felt that he was slipping away from me.

So, today I will look positively into the future. I will keep my obsession tucked away in my mind until the right time comes--which is our actually wedding. I should find other things to occupy my mind. Which is why I'm making a list.

Things I need to do before I get married

1. Get drunk at a party with friends.
2. Climb more mountains.
3. Finish reading One Hundred Years of Solitude (seriously).
4. Go to a strip club.
5. Vacation in Palawan and Bohol.
6. Return to Bangkok, Thailand.
7. Compose a song.
8. Start my scrapbook (I have been putting this on my lists since time in memorial, I have never done it. >.<)
9. Sing karaoke in front of many people without worrying about shame.
10. Lose weight (I have to look good in my dress right?).
11. Master the art of cooking (Kare-kare, Dinuguan, Embotido).

That's all for now. I'm guessing I'll have more than three years until I get married, so if any of you have any suggestions, please comment. I would be taking it into consideration.

Rant: A Mystic Tale on Immortality

2009-07-01T12:55:00.003+08:00

I have been scavenging my book collection for something new to read. I usually buy books (especially if it's cheap) all the time with no intention of reading them as soon as I get home. So I usually have about 5 to 10 books that I haven't read. Which is a good thing; since when I do feel the urge to put down the Master of the Game (by Sidney Sheldon) after reading it for the NTH time, I have the option to explore other books.

Well, I'm running low on my not-to-be-read-soon books so when I saw a used bookstore in Trinoma (with Law and Claire), I bought some books. This is even when I have absolutely no money for lunch for the whole week. This is when I stumbled upon Rant: An Oral Biography of Buster Casey.

Now, Chuck P. (I call him that cause I can't really pronounce his last name--Palahnuik) has captivated me with his short story "Guts". His style in storytelling keeps me interested. Not to mention his wild and creative imagination. And seeing his name on the book, made me buy it.

I started reading Rant as soon as I got home. At first I was confused since the story was told in different perspectives. It was like an interview was conducted and I was reading the notes from those interviews. But after a while, it all made sense.

I admire Chuck P.'s delivery of Rant's story. He got all these different people with different voices, perspectives, links form a singular story about a person who can go through time. It was a contemporary novel written in modern form. It was simply amazing! I have to bowed down to the sheer genius of how Chuck P. delivered it. I don't think I would be able to do what he has done... laying down the story from the character's point of view.

Each character has their own opinion on Rant. Each has an opinion of a particular story in Rant's life. Those characters either hate or love him. You can also see different angles to each's story. And for Chuck P. to tie it all together to make one good story... I tell, you I'll be raving about Rant for a long time.

I guess that's the magic Chuck P. gives off when you read his stories. At first he will confuse you to simply entice you to get into the story. Afterwhich, you'd be hooked. By the time you finish the story, you will be presented with a big picture, a grand story that is worth all the time and effort one exhausts in decoding his confusing beginnings.

I hope he goes to the Philippines--to do a book signing or something--so I could shake his hand in admiration.

I highly recommend you guys to read the book. Also read his short stories, aside from "Guts". I also find his novel Lullaby very intriguing, which I will buy as soon as I get my finances straight.

Nature Lover

2009-05-10T13:40:00.007+08:00

Ever since I was a kid, I have been fascinated with mountains, beaches and trees. (Actually, when I got my first camera, all my subjects were trees.)

Now that I'm old enough to travel and de-stress, I plan to find more scenic landscapes in the Philippines. I have conquered three mountains last summer. Unfortunately, I couldn't afford going to mountain hikes this summer due to insufficient funds and lack of vacation time.

But if my friends are willing, I'd gladly take a weekend driving to different destinations within Luzon. Overnight beach gimmicks are always ideal for us working class. No deadlines to think of, fresh air directly coming from surrounding trees, cool water and sandy beaches--who wouldn't want to take time to experience that?

Pictured: (Upper Left) Anawangin Cove in Zambales, (Lower Right) Peak of Mt. Pulag

Giving back to yourself

2009-04-09T11:24:00.003+08:00

Have you ever been in a spa?

I have been to two spas in all my life. Once with my family, and once with my boyfriend, Lawrence. One night, my family ate in a local steakhouse (with good food and cheap prices). After dinner, my dad checked out a spa right beside of the restaurant. After haggling with the receptionist, he decided he should treat us to a massage.

As for the second spa encounter, Lawrence wanted to have a more "intimate" date. Plus, he really wanted to try a spa ever since I chattered about my spa experience. So, after his second anniversary with his company, he whisk me off to Tagaytay and spent the day in the Nurture Spa.

Let me just get this straight, if I ever land a job where the money is really good. I would spend every weekend at this spa. Yes, Nurture Spa has won my heart.

Lawrence and I availed the Magsing-Irog massage package. We had a small little room while therapists give us a Swedish massage. The room was quaint and had the nature-inspired design. The therapists were more than accommodating when it comes to the reflexology and my constant badgering of questions.

The spa is a little bit pricey compared to spas here in Metro Manila. But if you really want to treat yourself and get away from the buzz of the city, Nurture Spa is for you.

After two months, Lawrence and I made a deal to come back and relax. By that time, I hope I found the job "where the money is really good. :)"

The Tale of the Two Sisters

2009-04-02T15:59:00.002+08:00

It seems bizarre to see two people holding a laptop over a casket, crying as inaudible words are coming from its speakers. But who was it that said that one must never judge a book by its cover? What people may view as a weird moment is the last act of love of one woman to her dead sister.

Milanyo and Encarnacion were inseparable ever since they were little. They were born into a country waging a war with her Asian brother. This is why they were left alone with their mother and younger sister Purita. There were many brothers and sisters before Encarnacion and Milanyo but they died long before the sisters could have memories of them.

“Yung mga kapatid ng nanay, marami sa kanila namatay dahil sa gutom,” said Rey, the youngest son of Encarnacion, “Maaga kasing namatay ang lolo ko.”

When their father died, their mother looked for another husband to support her and her three daughters. They were living in a time when women who work are frowned upon. When her mother remarried, they had another younger brother. Soon, their mother died and their stepfather left them.

“Parang binigyan lang sila ng bagong pakakainin”, Rey stated referring to the youngest brother, Ruding.

Encarnacion and Milanyo, or as they were better known—Ency and Mila, were the older sisters and were task to be responsible in taking care of the family. They became partners. They did everything together to help their family survive. When one goes to sell vegetables, the other sells chicken and meat. What one starts, the other finishes.

When Ency started having her own family, Mila married her childhood sweetheart. But though Ency’s family started to blossom from one child to five children, Mila had her heart broken after one month’s marriage. Her husband was a drunkard and relied only on Mila’s business in the market. She left her husband and never spoke about him ever since. Ency was the only one who knew about her first heart break—no one else knew.

“Sabi ni Nanay Ency, noong nalaman niyang namatay na si Auntie Milagring, pinunit na niya yung marriage contract ni Auntie Mila para parang dalaga pa rin si Auntie Mila hanggang sa pagkamatay niya.”

Mila fell in love once more and she bore a child. But her happily ever after was not meant to be. After a few years, the father of her child left her. And Ency was there to help her raise her child and mend her heart. There were many more suitors but Mila refused to be involved. Instead she concentrated in her chicken-selling business to provide for her only son.

When it was Ency’s turn for heartbreak, Mila was there. Mila abandoned her chicken stand and went straight to the Makati Medical Hospital when Ency’s husband died of a heart attack.

Since Ency and Mila’s children were all grown up, they built a duplex where they could both live and grow old together. But they never got around to spending the rest of their lives together. Mila continued to support her only son by selling chicken at the Quiapo market. She spends the day slaving away in the market and sleeps the night at a small made-to-do apartment at the top of her market stand.

As time passed, Ency’s children migrated to different countries like USA and Canada. Her children wanted her to live a comfortable life so she stayed in the USA leaving Mila behind.

Soon, they were only communicating through the help of their grandchildren navigating the complicated world of the worldwide web. They would only be able to see each other through webcams and hear each other’s voices through internet calling.

“Tuwing pasko, dinadala naming sa reunion yung mga laptop. Tapos tatawag kami sa computer ng mga kamag-anak namin sa USA at Canada. Buong araw kaming nagkakausap. Madalas sina Nanay Ency at Auntie Mila yung palaging nag-uusap habang nagkwekwentuhan yung ibang mga ka-anak.”

After working so hard at the market and without anybody looking after her, Mila became ill. She had grown thin and weak. She had to quit selling chickens and reside with her only son. But her son’s income was not enough to help her get through the disease especially with the high price of medicines and other commodities. She was hospitalized numerous times. Doctors keep telling her that she could fight through it but in the end, she herself wanted to give up.

On the night of her fatal stroke, she was talking to her younger sister Puring. She was asking for Ency. She wanted to be taken away from the hospital and start living with her in their duplex. She wanted to talk to Sion but there were no phones available for overseas calling. Instead she just shouted her pleas hoping the wind will carry her voice over lands, mountains and seas. “Sabi niya, ‘Ate Ency! Kunin mo na ako dito. Tulungan mo naman ako!.’ Sinasabi niya yun sa kawalan.”, Puring recalls.

Wncy could only see her sister on a small screened laptop as her grandchildren pan the webcam attached to a laptop. She was crying; calling out to her sister, shouting for her forgiveness for not being by her side. Now it was her turn to shout her cries hoping the wind will carry her voice for Mila to hear.

Creating Opportunities

2009-03-15T20:10:00.004+08:00

My dad is a preacher.

When I say that, I mean that he likes to lecture. I believe he has the passion for teaching. But his career wasn't set on that. So, he turned his preaches on his daughters.

I remember how I love eating dinners because it would be the time when my dad and I can have intellectual conversations. He would basically narrate to me (and everybody else) stories of his childhood days and the lessons he learned. He would incorporate situations from the past to occurrences in the present so that he could reach a point.

I also remember giving advices to my friends that came from my dad's speeches. I would only realize that my dad was the one who said it after actually saying it. This worked out for me since I believe the wisdom my dad is passing on to me is priceless. So, basically I grew up emulating my dad. I usually consult him when I have to make any kind of decision.

Time passed by when I learned that my dad is no Superman. And somehow, I despised him for not being the Superman I've known him when I was little. There were times when I don't want to listen to his speeches. I no longer wanted to engage him in any conversation because in the end, I feel that I would only try my best to counter everything that he is saying.

Recently, I've been trying to prove that I am an independent person. I have graduated college and am now working. But somehow, my heart is telling me that this is not right. This is not what I want for myself.

After a long time, my dad and I talk about my life. He assured me that whatever decision I made, he will support me. I am now realizing what it means when he said, "when you're a child, you're parents will be walking in front of you. when you grow up, they will be walking by your side. When you're on your own, they will be walking behind you". He said that to me when I was in Grade 6, and now I'm realizing this is true.

Finally my dad said, "You should not be waiting for opportunities. You should be looking for them. And when you've finally had it made, you should create them." This was the ending of our recent discussion.

My dad is a preacher. Everything I know came from him. Even though I, sometimes, despise him; when he's right, he's right.

There's a Purpose Behind This

2009-03-10T20:47:00.002+08:00

Paulo Coelho said in the Alchemist that "when you want something, the universe conspires for you to have it." It might take some time before you get it; but if you really keep it in your heart, whatever the obstacles that come your way may be, you will have it. This is something that I would like to believe.

When I was a young girl, I wanted to be a lot of things. I wanted to be a maid, a singer, an astronaut, a scientist, a lawyer and a writer. As I grew up I gave up on my dream becoming a maid, astronaut and scientist. I felt that those are the dreams that I really can't fulfill. My love for thpse professions are merely driven by curiosity, temptation and ignorance. By the time I was in Grade 5, I have set my sights on being one of the three remaining dream professions.

Shattered

The summer of my elementary graduation, my Dad encouraged us to take up some summer classes. Immediately I declared tgat I would be taking up voice lessons. So that summer I was enrolled in one of the prestigious, if not then the most popular voice and dance centers in Manila.

I never missed a class that summer. You see, I love to sing. Ever since I can remember, I sing for hours and hours. Our old car before didn't have any radio; so whenever we drive somewhere, I sing non-stop to entertain my family. I sing at home, in the bath, on family reunions, in school... basically everywhere. My Mom used to tease me that I was there long-playing tape.

But I guess that wasn't meant to be. After those voice lessons, I never sang wholeheartedly again. I stopped singing in reunions, even while in the shower. I don't know if it was the failed 'you-must-imitate-other-succesful-singers-before-forging-your-own-style' method that the center training that made me stop or just puberty taking hold of my voice. Now, I only try to sing when I'm completely comfortable. But even in Karaokes, I try my best not to sing. If I do, I goof around with the song or I just sing along with somebody with a good voice.

Faded

By that time I was also working for my Dad as his secretary. He was the one who told me that I hould be a lawyer. One time, I argued that I should be paid my month's salary because I was able to do the work albeit it was at the last minute. I simply argued that he didn't say that we were going to be paid by the hour or by the day. So if there are days we don't do our work, there shouldn't be any deductions just as long as come deadline, we present our finished work.

Another incident would be whenever I complain about him not giving me my allowance if our classes were cancelled. I'd say that there was no verbal nor written agreement that if our classes were cancelled due to storms, that the amount of allowance money for that day will be deducted from the total week's allowance. After that, he gave us our allowances complete for the whole week whether or not we go to school.

I still want to go to Law school and be a lawyer. But our resources wouldn't be able to make it. We have to admit it, Law school costs a lot. Even if I get to a cheap school, I would still have to finance my readings, books and daily expenses. My sister is still studying college and there are still lots of bills to pay. So for now, I am trying to save up for me to be able to pay for my own expenses when I get to Law School. Somehow, the completion of that dream is not over yet.

Disenchanted

As for the writing, I have loved reading and writing (I believe these go hand in hand together) ever since my Mom taught me Abakada. I have been writing poems, stories, essays for years. I wanted to be a journalist and express myself to a wide audience.

When I was in highschool, I tried out for the school newspaper. In my first year,I submitted all my poems and other literary works for the newspaper. The first time I tried to be a staff member was when I was in my second year. I was shut down. In my third year, I was rejected again. By fourth year, I was reluctant to join. But my Journalism club adviser encouraged me, after series of tests and interviews, I finally made it.

During that my Seton Notes days, I was simply in heaven. I felt that I was in my element. Even though there were lots of things that went wrong that year, in the end it was my happiest highschool year. Not only did I finally get to write for our school newspaper, I was awarded the Most

By college, I enrolled into a Creative Writing course, after which I continued it to learning more about Journalism. I would be rubbing elbows with famous writers and having them teach me some of their techniques. I was with intelligent and creative peers who completely surprise me with their masterpieces.

But somehow, the energy I had when I was still in high school slowly died out. I was disenchanted with how I saw Journalism and writing. Politics, somehow, ruined my perception on expressing one’s self. I saw, first hand, how journalists manipulate the facts to protect their benefactors; or how big time newspaper publishers give newspaper spaces to people with connections. Not only those, journalists who live true to their name and calling are murdered without any mercy.

But I still want to write. I still dream of publishing a book or having an article in a newspaper. I still have lots of ideas to share and numerous stories to tell.

Hopeful

This is why I created this little paradise for me. I wish to still be able to write and communicate with you. Even if I am now working as an assistant in our company’s Recruitment Department, I would still like to keep my “writer” dream alive.

So bear with me dear readers, I plan to make Coelho’s words come true. That even if I’m in a completely different field, even if I have so many obstacles to conquer, I will not let this dream go. It’s simply because unlike the other dreams, this particular one—me being a writer—is the one that makes me the happiest.

New Blog, New Vow

2009-03-08T15:27:00.001+08:00

I suppose it's customary for anybody to introduce themselves when meeting new people. But this is exactly what this blog is about. This is me introducing myself to you, you and you.

For now, let's get down to the basics.

I am Lo. I write and create stories. It's nice to meet you.

I solemnly promise to update this blog about my thoughts, travels, trivia, opinions and stories. I promise that I will be introducing myself to you in the utmost of my abilities. That somehow, someday when we meet, it's like you've known me all along.