Unloading.Analyzing.Speaking to Myself?

I am not Superwoman, nor do I pretend to be her. Ok, I do love pretending to be her.  But here I am still human, and physically weaker than many human beings at that.  I have experienced my physical low this week when I attempted something that only very mentally and physically strong,or overly ambitious, or crazy people will do…think working and going to school at a total of 12 hours a day,Monday to Saturday and add up the commute and the walking(at least rich entrepreneurs move from place to place in their limos and private jets; I have to run on heels engulfed in the familiar polluted Metro Manila air to stand the whole way in trains, and sit in cramped jeepneys, sweat trickling down my back combined with droplets from my still wet hair and my stomach grumbling because I have not yet eaten breakfast…)

Here’s the deal.  (especially to my former DIA students)…Metro Manila does not mean higher wages.  My present job is half my teaching salary, and less than half my tuition(9 units only, in DLSU).  So do not be surprised if I quit THE JOB and continue studying.

So I thought to myself: why not go back to the gothic attitude (androgynous, lazy, self-indulgent, angsty) I had in high school? Nah.  Won’t be a superhero but won’t be a moper either.  I am looking for part-time writing or illustrating jobs…something I can do before I graduate (hopefully I will get my Masters in August or December 2008).  If you know of any part time stints I can be a part of, lemme know. Thanks

Life is so stressful lately…I mean I always complain about this but lately has been a total test of my mental, emotional and physical limits.  I am taking 9 units of masters in mathematics (think calculus, discrete math and stats) and I am working 8 hours from Mondays to Fridays, 6 hours on Saturdays writing abstracts(summaries) of journals about anything(archeology, biology, politics, business, orthopedics, news, art, literature, philosophy, etc)…SO I am at work a minimum of 8 hours and a maximum of 12 hours a  day. I wonder if I will ever have a baby with this kind of stress.  So many unmarried couples and even teens are having babies left and right, and here am I married for almost five months, still hoping…Anyway, my husband is also very busy in Naga City working on events for the Penafrancia fiesta. He probably will be here in October…That’s it for now. I will update you all if I ever survive my "fun-filled" schedule.

you find out too late that there is no one else to depend on but yourself…as you look at the many strange faces that pass you by all hurrying to get to destinations they wont be talking to you about…the dimness of your eyes as you go through another day trying to catch a distant dream makes you press your nails on your palms. it was a lesson that you have learned. whatever pain you feel is erased by another one…you have never fainted but you do not want that to happen for the first time.you are afraid to lose control more than you are afraid to die. as the train speeds on, you see a myriad of reflections on the glass windows…blank faces made weary, merging into one somber and strange, empathetic cluster thrust against a background of frenzied activity.but.you will go home alone, wondering if the continuity of the sameness will make you want to fly…a dove who seeks for peace.not like the predatory vultures the world has too many of.

It’s difficult if you want to fly higher than those above you

                or if you want to walk faster than those ahead of you

                if you cannot find a vehicle to your destination

                plagued with traffics and delays

                these are your everydays

                you stay

Seven years in a foreign place that has become a home cannot be discarded. 

I miss..

The rolling waves crashing against the shore as I watch from the bayfront… The waves looking like soap suds or bubbling champagne, the bluish tint disappearing onto the brown earth. The sea is everywhere.  It is an island after all.

The fresh breeze from the ocean, my hair moving while I peer from my dad’s car window…

Sleeping at the backseat of my dad’s car as he drives me to school early in the morning. I am trying to catch some sleep before dealing with calculus and physics and computer science at the Clifton Dupigny Community College.

The cool shallow rivers…with surrounding trees that speak of some local mystery, of ghosts, of obeah (witchcraft)…

The antique looking, but updated public library…It keeps some rarities that I enjoy spending my free hours on…reading a thick book of mysteries or well-preserved classics…

Lying down on a table in our verandah in a shirt and shorts…listening to, and watching the rain pouring down hard outside… The drops feel cleansing.  The air is cool.  The mountains are filled with mist.

Hiking at Fort Shirley.  Breathing in history…the place where the French and English have battled.  Lying down on freshly mowed grass, gazing at the clouds. The sun is not harsh, but calming.

Joy rides.  Looking at the contrast of mountains and nature in all its glory, to mansions built on the edges of hills…Wondering at names of places like Massacre (pronounced as Masak) which tells of its violent history.  Morbidly gazing at cemeteries built by hillsides.

Taking a walk downtown, loving how the people have kept their culture intact while becoming modernized in fashion and technology…

Specialty and souvenir shops…

Rum and raisin ice cream (YUM)

passing by cricket games…loving the contrast of black skin on white uniform…

Asian gatherings.  Meeting with people from Japan, China, Taiwan, India, Sri Lanka and the Philippines… uniting with people who are also considered foreigners

Creole day…national costumes…Speaking in patois (patwa), a combination of French and Afrikaans… at least they do speak patois…I listen uncomprehendingly, but immersed in their feeling of pride.

Calypso, which has annoyed me before, but I now appreciate this fast moving, sometimes political music which can well be mistaken as noise by some who cannot understand.  I want to understand.

Sunday mass.  Whether you are Catholic, Born Again, Baptist or Anglican, you are in for an hour and a half or more of singing and praising.  Monsignor Jno. Lewis even sings his homily. Women are in dresses and hats.  People say hi to everyone, and go around to hug their friends during the "Peace be with you" part.

Sitting on a bench at the verandah to watch the sun set and disappear into the sea. Looking at the seemingly endless horizon

As a DIA graduate, commenting on films and commercials is quite an ordinary past time.  I cannot call the ads I have created for my school projects works of genius, but I can recognize some tv ads that may be clean technically, but just don’t get the real POINT of the product, or give people false information…or present questionable values

check out the following:

Anlene: ok its noble that it aims to fight against osteoporosis but once you get the disease there is no way you can reverse it! So they should have shown PREVENTION, not a MIRACLE as suggested when the old lady who was already stooping suddenly danced for the ballet.

um, the skin whitener thingie or age defying formula…PONDS I think I am not that sure with all the array of whiteners and skin moisturizers in the market…at least this is the one that promises a change in 7 days…check out the husband who sleeps far from his wife who suddenly becomes cozy with her when she BECOMES PRETTIER, YOUNGER LOOKING, WHITER whatever. How superficial.

This other one is quite recent…about the deodorant underarm whitener…Guy runs away from pretty, white skinned girl with dark armpits…Sad.Really.

LIQUOR ADS are generally crap.  There is one with Bamboo…Message I got was that if you drink, you are supposedly COOL, astig…nah.  There is even a part of that same commercial which is really technically well done but gives Bamboo’s face a demonic look with all the bluish smoke around his face. WORSE are those with the girls in bikinis.  Totally exploitative.

Then there are those commercials that promote SELFISHNESS…those supposedly delish snacks that you just have to keep for yourself. Ah, the pleasures of obesity.And newfound enemies.

there’s more…for now i take a break…*Sigh*

When you are used to creating, manufacturing and merely producing can get you down.  Creative freedom is the lifeblood of artists, and it is criminal to contain them in a fixed world where writers have a small dictionary, and artists have templates and other people’s storyboards. Let us not die from this savage thirst. If paid to manufacture, then create during your leisure time…

to fellow writers, illustrators, animators and even for those who imagine a brighter world…inventors, philosophers, innovators

Writing blogs sometimes make me feel egoistic to the extreme; writing vignettes and even mundane experiences from my own life, expecting readership or a following(hehe, now that is really a delusion of grandeur)…It’s very Jessica Zafra-ish…rants, rants and more rants…sometimes these are what I write…and it’s strangely therapeutic…for me anyway…

I need the therapy right now.  The heavy rain and chest-high floods in Pasong Tamo washed away what little optimism I had left when I woke up an hour after my alarm went off… I knew from the start that it was going to be one of THOSE days…I had left the house without breakfast, a raging headache, and before I reached the UN avenue LRT station, soaked pants… I even tried negotiating with a cab to take me to work, but the taxi driver did not want to be caught in the Makati traffic, and the flooded streets.  I think it was a blessing in disguise…I could have ended up paying one way fare higher than my daily salary…

I reached the office within the grace period, a miracle.  Though at times I could probably question myself why I was rushing to work… Everyday, I get to see really nice co-trainees *thank God for good people!*  However, there is one person who annoys the hell out of me.  She speaks so loud, but does not want to be disturbed, accuses me (parinig!) of moving her things and cramping her space (she sits by the aisle!!!) I go to work and do my job with my pulse pounding at my neck, afraid that i will FINALLY lose my temper (I do have a LOT of patience)… But sometimes I wonder if I will ever miss the foul mouthed and unwelcoming ***** when I move on to a much better job?

The word "evanescence" means to gradually fade away… The band Evanescence ironically produces many popular songs unlike one-hit wonders that deserve the name…But anyway, let us not forget the word "gradually". 

The word evanescence is so sad and mysterious.  If sudden losses cause shock, a loss so evanescent is more bitter-tasting because if we observed the signs, we could have prevented it.  The word also fits my interests.  I would pour my whole heart into each of my scattered "loves" and then after the passing of months or years, the attachment is gone without me discerning where the crack started.  When I say loves, I meant my love for art, for math, for poetry and music and films and so many other things that I cannot give time for all.  Though confusion has always wrought the way I see myself: the extrovert with compassion for people or the introvert who stay in one corner pondering about philosophy and fantasy.  The artist pretending to be a mathematician?  Or the scientist pretending to be a poet? What I can be sure of is my love for learning.  I just hope that one day I would not look back at this love as evanescent…

I have just finished my third day at my new job.  Well, I am not sure if it really qualifies as a real job at the moment because I am just a trainee.  Being a trainee, I am more of a student than someone who is helping out in the actual production of the company.  I know how my job as abstractor is absolutely far from my degree but it is not outside my range of interests (the range is quite wide you know, and a cause for major trouble—in my mind, that is).

Actually, I did not apply for the job.  The company got my resume from jobsdb.com.  So, it was the first time that I encountered the job "abstractor".  The role of an abstractor is basically to create abstracts, in our case abstracts for electronic journal articles.  Every time that you hear about this job, it is described as a good job but not one you will consider as a career.  I am here mainly for the new learnings.  I love jobs where there are classroom lectures hehe… I am also making a job out of my love for reading and writing.  Anyway, let us see what happens…