Just before I stepped out of work this evening, I took this pic.

Rows and rows of empty seats, and it’s barely seven in the evening!  This would never happen in the previous firms I worked in.  Especially in Acn, the managers would see the people as incompetent, lacking dedication, or even irresponsible.

Well you definitely will not complain of work-life imbalance.

The new workplace we transferred to has powerful airconditioning installed.  For the first week here we were freezing.  I decided to start bringing a jacket to work just to keep myself from getting sick.

I am not a big jacket fan, ever since my 8-month stint in Denmark.  After experiencing the real cold weather there, I have always found the climate in Manila never cool enough to wear heavy clothing.  Not until we transferred here in Goodland.  I hauled my jackets and winter wear out of their slumber and had them washed for Monday.  I finally decided to switch between a grey fleece jacket I bought in Venice, Italy, and a black GA (Giorgio Armani) jacket.

 

Monday came and I brought my jacket to the office.  Upon my arrival, I laid it over the back of my chair.  As I did that I discovered that there was something on the inside pocket of my GA jacket.  I took it out.  In an instant I had watery eyes as I gazed on what it was.  It could not be mistaken for anything else.  It was a clump of terminal fee tickets I had from two years ago.  This was the flight when I brought my mother’s body from Manila to Davao, her final resting place.  After a few minutes of staring at it, I threw it into the trash bin.

A lingering aura of sadness has come over me.  Seeing something so tangible from that point of my past brought back a lot of the sad memories.

… Than a man defending his family’s legacy.  Especially when it is a relative who causes this turmoil by saying blasphemous statements.  Yes, blasphemous is a harsh word, but it fits what you just said perfectly, you heretic-girl!

Sorry for the rant, but that’s the only way I can lay this out on blogosphere, lest it be cryptic.  This blog has been way over its cryptic limit for the month.

What happened was I read in my niece’s blog (Or ex-niece, since I want to disown her from my side of the family, not that it matters) about her doubts in religion.  I commented that she should look into our family’s history.  She replies that she will not believe just because the family does.  Now just writing her words makes my hairs stand on end…  I finally told her that nobody is forcing her to do so, and if that is her reasoning then she is not a loss to God.

I know, this is contradictory to the parable of the Shepherd who is looking out for all his flock, and tries to find the one that is astray.  I have been apologizing to God for this, but somehow a wave of rage just took over me.  It feels as if I could just hurl a lightning bolt at her at that moment of anger.  I think it’s just arrogance on that girl’s part to say something like that.  There’s a Filipino idiom that says, “nalulunod sa isang basong tubig” (drowning in a glass of water), which is applicable to a person who gets euphoric and becomes arrogant just because of some successes and recognitions.  I think this really applies to this girl.Â

I pity her, because this belief makes her just a lowly organism, and not a being with a soul that is part of God.

I am surprised with myself as well.  I have not been the most religious person in the family.  Admittedly, there’s a part of me that feels that I am too hurt to fully reconnect with God.  But the times when I have to defend my faith, or try to inspire people with my words, I feel that this is not just me talking.  I feel that a glorified force out there is helping me out at those moments.  I am not sure if this incident is such an example.  All I know is that my faith should not be invalidated by anyone, family or not.

After a few bad days, I broke through again.  On the way home, I decided to get some wine and cheese to celebrate.  Finally, I got to put something on my winerack.

I have always known that my strength is directly connected to my emotions.  That is my nature and I accept that.  But this week has been a roller coaster ride for my heart.  I have gone from being so weak in body and heart, to a glimmer of strength earlier today.

What a day it has been!  I am happy that it ended positively.

Circumstance has pushed me to the brink of despair, now my body and soul seems damaged.  It is as if the proverbial spear has pierced my unguarded heart.  Unguarded because both my hands are occupied, my right hand at lifting the burdens of the present, and my left at keeping the horrors of the recent past at bay.  I fear that the impalement will cause my life to be thrown into chaos.

I am starting to question if the present state of my life is what’s right for me.  It seems like my own instincts, and Fate itself is telling me to make alterations.  With these feelings inside, I can almost pinpoint where I should start to make those changes.  But at present, my hands are tied, for I know that I am unprepared to make that leap of faith.

I yearn for the time, not so long ago, when I was sheltered from all of these.  I was protected by the security and love that my family provided for me.  I could bask in the warmth that seem to come from some infinity pool within.  Every night, I remember feeling the power that seems to permeate so easily into our home as the whole family recited these words:

Lord, bless our family with openness
To real communication with sharing
In all our joys and sorrows with freedom
To let each other grow with understanding
For the gifts each has to give, and of course, with love
No matter what, no matter when.  Amen.

I know that I have to look ahead now.  But that time is just too precious for me not to hold dear.  It is so precious a time, that I almost regret losing it all.  But I know that I am not at fault.  Fate and Time itself has become my enemy.

Is there some virus going around?  I got sick the second time this month.  I woke up today and felt my muscles aching all over.  I just turned the alarm off and decided to surrender to my body.

I used to have a cooperative body.  I would never get sick during dire circumstances that needed me to be up 24 hours a day for months at a time.  My body’s aches would catch up with me only when everything else is OK.  But now it’s different,  I feel like my body shuts down easily when the my spirit is tired.

Maybe I’m just getting old.

I went to makati last Saturday to do my bank run, and then buy something for Father’s Day.  My Dad passed away a few years ago but we still celebrate this day to honor him.  (I still get teary-eyed over him.  haay)

Anyway, on a whim I decided to check if tickets for the Transformers movie were already available at Greenbelt 3.  I was happy to find that they are and that there are still a lot of seats left.  I was so happy that I bought five for the 28th of June, at 10:50PM.  A few steps later I realized that I didn’t have anybody to go with.  Not one, let alone five people.

This is not the first time that I bought more than one ticket for a movie.  I usually buy two, to put my bags in the other.  I know, I know, everybody’s clamoring tickets for every great movie and it’s a waste that I have more than one for me.  Well, it’s my best solution for the chance that I seat with unruly movie goers.  I keep them away.

But having five tickets was a problem.  I forgot in that moment that I presently didn’t share a big chunk of my life with anyone.  There’s a potential for me to have a partner, a relationship brewing… but that person is in Hongkong right now, for a two-week work thing.   Overall, I can still categorically say that I am alone.

Anyway, all this psychological hoopla aside, I still have these tickets burning in my pocket.  So for anyone interested, I have four to spare for the June 28, 10:50PM at Greenbelt 3 Cinema, the first day showing of the Transformers movie.  Just place a comment, or send me a text message or e-mail.

We’ll tackle the psychological stuff over coffee then, if you want.

Or the Badlands, for some.Â

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But seriously, when we got there the place was really underrated.  Fortunately, it was not as bad as advertised by our managers.  Apparently they intentionally downplayed their review so the expectation would be low.  It still is a pain to get to though.

So for the next couple of months, my desk will be replaced with a smaller one and a space utterly devoid of any privacy.

This is going to be fun… or disastrous… or both.

Well, for now, that is.  We spent our last full day today at Net2 Center at the Fort.  After about five months, I’ve learned to like Global City.  It is much less stressful to move about there.

We decided to go somewhere special (a wee bit) at the Fort Strip.  We went to Hossein Persian Kebab.  I have never had saffron rice before.  I loved it!

Of couse we had Nan and garlic dip for appetizers.

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After work, I went to Glorietta and finally bought a coin purse at Fino.

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I have finally broken through my Valley of Despair, so to speak.  In a split second, my brain just started going bionic, and my fingers were running 900 miles an hour on the keyboard.  To celebrate, I went to Fort Bonifacio High Street (with officemates Kat, Rubi and Eric), and ended up buying the bag I wanted at Springfield.

This bag had already sold out at the Greenbelt 3 branch.  I was happy to see the last piece on display at the High Street store, so I took it as a sign.  The pinstripe thing is so nice (I think I had a shirt like this print before).  The inside is nice as well…

Afterwards we moved on to Kenneth Cole and saw a cool line of leather belts.  Kat found the perfect birthday gift for her husband there.  Our last stop was at the iStudio store where we finally decided to take a couple of pictures.

The store is in its soft opening, so there is still some work being done.  The odor of the chemicals are unpleasant as well.  But hey, I like the lighting!

I ended the day by watching Fantastic Four at Greenbelt 3.  I had the best seat in the house.

I have, for a long time, been needing a coin purse.  I keep forgetting, it being a very small thing.  Maybe I’ll check out Fino at Glorietta later, they have a fine collection of leather stuff.

The photos above are of Fino’s red leather collection.

—

Update 11:32PM June 12:  Mission failed for today.  I decided to party with officemates at the Fort Strip’s Pier One.  Here’s a couple of pictures.

I’m happy I went with them.  Dinner and drinks blow out is always better than any shopping disaster on my part.

As my alarm went off at six fifteen this morning, my waking mind was screaming, “What?  The weekend’s over?!”…Â

I cannot believe I have to get to work today.  The fact that I have to breakthrough the ice blocking my productivity is just jaw numbing.  Admittedly, I have not been completely productive these days.  Perhaps it is because I am overwhelmed by my responsibilities.  Not to mention, I get bogged down everytime my manager rattles my nerves.  He is not really good at shielding his people, that much I know.

I have to find the courage to tell him that I cannot be the leader anymore.  I am trying to prepare my own psyche for when I hear myself say it as well.

Slowly but steadily, I am recovering my strength.Â

At this point almost everything is better than yesterday, but I still have muscle pains.  I think that the medicines I took were the only things that kept me on my feet last Friday.  Perhaps my strength and overall relief then was artificial.   I am currently taking an arsenal of supplements, aside from the antibiotics.  In total I am taking about 7 tablets every meal (6 of two kinds of vitamins and 1 for the fever).  It’s hard to take this many meds every meal, especially when you’re full.  I learned the hard way yesterday when I tried downing them after a hearty meal at Red Kimono.

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I’m glad I forced myself to come to work last friday.  I had a lot of fun looking at people’s getups since our office had this First Day High theme for that day.  Some people just went SO crazy with their costumes that it was bordering humiliation.  And it was the last day of work, so most of them went out to lunch wearing them.  There might really be a shortage of oxygen molecules in the Metro, because not enough is going to their heads.  My lunchmates (for the day) fell into a game of guessing what kind of high were some people wearing.  Here is a run down of my list:

A group of people in the reception area were waiting for the elevators.  Their layers-upon-layers of thick-ruffled-black getups’ absurdity (Hello! We’re in the tropics!) only surpassed by mind-numbing, accent-forced English has earned for them the title SNOTTY HIGH.

Outside the building, as we were waiting for the rest of the group for lunch at Red Kimono, a group of 5 girls and a gay guy came out (Rhetorical, I know).  They were wearing what I could only call quasi Japanese schoolgirl inspired outfits.  I say quasi because I’m pretty sure that the big (Oversized, ergo borrowed?) black leather knee-high boots is more Texas fashion, which invalidates their look and turns them into pirated Japanese Fashion.  Their short skirts and neckties border Pussycat Doll wannabes, which in turn makes them SLUTTY HIGH.  For wearing the layered outfits in extremely hot noontime weather, they earn the FASHION VICTIM HIGH honor.

HOTTIE HIGHs and CUTIE HIGHs were all around, in fairness.  But that’s way too boring, it’s almost unbloggable material.  For the sake of completion, it deserves a few lines… and glimpses… or GLARES, if they’re not looking.

I saw a girl who put over a red tank top with white stars all over it.  Her top (not her) reminded me of Wonder Woman… SUPERHERO HIGH!  She went to the wrong party.

Now almost every organization has a Queen Bee, and in our case, we had the Queen Bee and her lackeys… the works.  In the tradition of Mean Girls, all we need is the bus to run them down!… Am I enjoying this rant too much?…  I almost had my hand up when I read that out loud.Â

Anyway, they were wearing matching outfits.  So, a number of highs spawned in my head (What can I say?  She’s my muse for mean writing, kind of like what Alma Moreno is to the filmmaker Joey Gosiengfiao.).  There’s MATCHY MATCHY HIGH ala Nina Garcia on Project Runway, TERNO HIGH, BUY 1 TAKE 1 HIGH, or DIVI(soria) WHOLESALE HIGH, just to name a few.

Now by this time you’re wondering what kind of high am I?  Someone asked me why I didn’t participate.  I told her, “I’m wearing a Lacoste Sport High shirt, if you don’t recognize,” and turned away.  I almost heard a thud as I fell into the SNOBBY HIGH box.

I’m waiting for the pics to post.  But I don’t know… maybe putting pics will be too offensive.  What do you think?

What fun!  But I gotta stop.  The bus might take a U-turn and run me down now.

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Yesterday, in between my delirium, I received this text from Winnie:

Friends, Orly Esparrago, present dean of all colleges in AMA Makati, is needing your service again to bring back the CCS reputation of clean, efficient and effective teaching to AMACC students. Kahit po part-time lang… Salamat po.  P.S: Hinahanap nila tayo, yung batch natin.

I was kind of flattered.  But indeed I am proud to be a part of that group of extraordinary individuals who gave the best teachings, and braved the harshest conditions of a bad management at that time.  I also heard that after our group moved on, that it just went downhill.  The rumors that would trickle down to me, courtesy of my neighbor who was still studying there, were just unimaginable!

I replied to this text, and found out that apparently some of the people had already sent in their resumes.  People that I haven’t seen in a long time.  It would be great to be working with these people again.  Very tempting, but I don’t know if I could do this again though, even part-time.

After a bad start of my day Wednesday morning on the cruel streets of Manila.  I typed these words on my smartphone as a blog entry for that day:

As I got to the office today, I just stopped on my tracks, sat down and held my hands on my face to stifle a cry.  I’m just so stressed out right now, from the moment that I opened my eyes today.

Today, I decided that in a span of 24 hours, I relapsed and hated this city… this country all over again.  I hate how the people try to take advantage of each other.  How getting ahead is applauded in the streets, rather than doing the right thing.

Diskarte - this is what destroys thje morals of our society.  The person who uses any means possible, including the illegal, is applauded rather than the person who stands by what’s right.

Cutting a line at a grocery store, a bus stop, or a taxi stand may be small things.  But when they become acceptable behavior, they become part of the public consciousness.  They ultimately sire frauds of higher magnitudes.

Some years ago, I decided not to be a part of the brain drain of this country.  But with the scarcity of hope for my motherland, I now break this vow.

Then just like that, I fell ill.  The nurse said that it might be a throat inspection, upon her examination.  Well, I do usually get sick through that.  I decided to go home by lunchtime that day.

I hate being sick.  Especially after all these months, the last thing I needed was to be in a dark room all day.  It just reminded me more of how much I missed my Dad… my Mum… even my Sister.  I always thought my parents had a healing touch.  In that delirious feeling of hopelessness, I realized how alone I was.  I phoned my Aunt to tell her I was sick, but it wasn’t the same really.

To make matters worse, I kept getting flashes of my sister’s ordeal and her ultimate demise.  I’ve gone through so many demons that one cannot easily believe it.  I think that’s the root why I can’t relate to a lot of people, especially their petty problems.  Even when I entrust them with my experiences, all I see is pity, of all things.  But what I don’t see is a deep understanding of the gravity of those experiences.

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June 8 Update:

Still weak, I got up to go to work this morning.  It was a struggle to prepare myself because I didn’t have much muscle strength for gripping.

Reading this entry again, I thought that I was kind of like Harry Potter in Prisoner of Azkaban.  He was deeply affected by the Dementors’ power because he had faced so much terror and anguish.  The other students didn’t understand this clearly because none of them had gone through an ordeal of the same magnitude.