peripatetic

\pair-uh-puh-TET-ik\ adjective

1 capitalized : Aristotelian
2 a : of, relating to, or given to walking *b : moving or traveling from place to place : itinerant

i think this is what i'll be in the coming year.

time out

from a time out. or, what was SUPPOSED to be a time out.

i can't believe i'm going to start work on wednesday. i've hardly done anything here at home - well, except for the surf trip (which was summarily cut short due to the maid situation) - and now i'm already leaving. so now i'm having second thoughts about starting work the day after i arrive in my new old city. given that i hardly had a vacation while i was here. but what the hell - i need to get income sooner rather than later. and i figured a change in tasks should be good for me. laundry and cooking and dishwashing not exactly good for career growth.

but we're straying from the point. the point is, i hardly had a vacation and i've hardly done what i wanted here in my hometown. and i'm already leaving in four days. oh what a life.

this is why i have to live on my own, in some city not accessible to my family within an hour's travel. preferably in a different time zone. and this is why, for at least once in my life, i'd like to come home without my family having to know about it.

super inday forever

it's official. my role in life (at least, when it comes to my family) is to be substitute maid.

i come home from my surfing weekend to find a house without any of the househelp. actually, i was commanded to come home earlier BECAUSE of the want for household help. ce'st la vie.

so the past week i have been taking care of the laundry and the meals and the overall state of the house. i feel that i am more of the matron of the household than the actual matron. on the bright side, mother - for the first time in my entire lifelong bondage - has complimented me on my good job at putting everything in order for my sister + brother-in-law + niece's arrival. and she attributes it to my independence in the island i now call home. shyeah, right.

for the first time in my entire housekeeping career, i actually felt like a housewife. yesterday, at least. when everyone left the house and i got a bit of peace and quiet, i was relieved. nay, i was glad to be rid of them and have the chance to attend to business on my own, sometimes of my own. i think i am beginning to understand where term 'desperate housewives' came from.

mother is beginning to seem worse for the wear. either that, or she's just less inclined to put some back into tackling the house chores. maybe a bit of both. she's always prioritised her career before her family. which does wonders for her relationships with her daughters, but we're not going into that. (but since i've started on it, let's just say that there's a bit of chicken-and-egg thing going on with that.)

i am beginning to see why friends have voted me as having most mother potential. but at the same time, i'm not ready to go that far just yet.

i'm single and happy, thankyouverymuch.

it's complicated.

the catchphrase of all my romantic relationships. far be it for me to start changing now. creature of habit, i am.

they say love catches you when you least expect it. i suppose it's true. except that i'm not quite sure if this is love. and by love i mean romance.

we've known each other for almost half our lifetimes. in a way, you could say he's my best friend. he knows me as well as - or even better than - any other person i know. maybe that's why it's difficult to go beyond the present circumstances.

he loves me. and i love him. but somehow... there's just something in the way. something we both feel, but we can't quite define. and i guess, something we can't quite overcome.

we've loved each other for some time, in different ways. i've loved him as a friend, sometimes as a brother, some days as a confidant. through the years, our relationship has grown. and recently, it seems to be growing even more.

then today i woke up and i realised... i'm falling. for the man who has loved me from the day we first met.

heads will roll. ROWR!!!!

i called the ministry and find out that the outstanding employment pass was granted on 08 AUGUST 2007. FOUR. FREAKING. MONTHS. AGO. i am so furious i can spontaneously combust!

i am SO going to file a formal complaint against my previous admin manager. lousy *&^%$#@! doesn't even do her job! AND - she was rude and totally un-helpful to my new HR manager! wtf???!!!

bloody. freaking. hell.

even after i've left, the old firm screws things up for me. my new firm is having problems getting my employment pass processed because apparently, i have an approved employment pass waiting for me at the ministry. how much shit do they exactly need me to go through before i can be rid of them? when i think of my previous firm, two words come to mind - dead. weight.

okay. so how did this mess happen? firstly, i did not apply for a new employment pass with any other company. there are only two firms that has paperwork with my signature on it - my previous firm, and my new firm. so, if the new firm is having problems because there is already another active employment pass on the database, it definitely couldn't be them causing the trouble. so it would have to be the dead weight.

now, back in july - SIX FREAKING MONTHS AGO - i applied for an upgrade of my work permit. i have not heard ANY news on the outcome of this permit since. all paperwork related to my employment gets forwarded to my employer. i have no access to any letters from the ministry, except through the administrative people in the office. so, my guess is, the application was approved, the letter got sent, the admin witch kept it to herself and didn't let me know about it. so now i have an employment pass (most likely with my old firm), which has not been collected because i didn't know it existed. and this employment pass whose existence i was unaware of until today is causing problems with the application for my new employment pass with the new - BETTER PAYING - firm. the existing employment pass has to be cancelled before the new employment pass can be processed. it's going to take a few days to sort this out, and this is definitely going to set back my work schedule. *&^%$#@!

i am going to call the ministry tomorrow and find out what exactly is this purported employment pass and when it was granted. if i find out it has been around for over two months, there will be hell to pay. mark my words.

super inday does not suffer fools gladly.

home is where the heartbreak is

one year ago, in this same house, i was nursing a broken heart. i sit at my desk now and see remnants of the parting gift that travelled 16hrs and 6,000 miles to the place i've called home for the past 18years. the gold-lidded glass jar that it came in. the plastic teacup that housed the aloe-cactus plant for three weeks. the plastic spoon that i used to re-pot the gift christened as 'heather'. all that's missing now is the real plant. it died while i was living overseas, a good eight months ago. and along with it died the heartbreak. or the love for the giver. or both.

i realise that this house has seen me go through three heartaches and two troubled relationships. if these walls could talk, my, what stories they would tell. of nights crying into my favourite pillow. (which, incidentally, travels with me to new lodgings.) of heated conversations with my parents. of sulkiness and brooding. this room is a repository of my past. of broken hearts and dreams unfulfilled. it will always be, perhaps, a place associated with sadness.

it's been a year since that fateful phone call. when i realised that he doesn't care about me, and probably never will. and that no amount of manipulation will change the way things are.

i almost got him to fly all the way to my side of the world. but i decided against it, against playing my final card. because deep down inside, i know he won't be coming for me. he'll be coming for himself. and when you're in love with someone so self-absorbed, you will never find any room in his heart for you. no matter how hard you try.

this house will always hold the heartbreaks. but perhaps underneath the pain, it also holds the dreams. the expectations of something better. hopes that led to disappointments in the first place. but hopes nonetheless.

home, bittersweet home.

bored witless

for the first time in a very long time, i have run out of things to do. so now i blog. hah.

i've pretty much finished packing my suitcase. i've put away the necessary things for storage. i've finished reading two stories by f scott fitzgerald. (he's good, by the way.) i've prepared dinner, i've done a bit of laundry, i've arranged for my interview tomorrow.

yes, i have a job interview tomorrow. amazingly enough. talk about buzzer-beaters. my flight was supposed to be yesterday afternoon, at 5pm. interview was originally set for 10am, but has been changed to 2.30pm. and now i'm wondering if i should move my flight to next week, just in case the interview goes well. or i can always just bring all the employment pass documents with me tomorrow, so we can process everything immediately. that's being overly optimistic about it.

getting this job would definitely make my life so much simpler. but i don't want to get ahead of myself again and bank on false hopes. i need to plan my life around the possibility - nay, probability - of not getting this job. otherwise i'd end up even more bored than i am now. and i would be subjected to the family at the same time. heaven forbid.

here's to waiting for miracles to happen. and living in reality.

here we go again...

i definitely have a preference for caucasian men. and i think they also have a preference for me.

case 1. at the gym. i passed by the exercise studio and caucasian male in kickboxing class made eye contact. immediately after, he put more back into his punches. i found it amusing, but didn't stay to watch. went for my shower, and when i got out, i passed by the studio. again, eye contact. this time, he definitely smiled at me. passed by one last time on my way out. final look and smile. too bad i had to go for a lunch appointment. he might have tried to get my number.

case 2. brit visiting for conference. knew him from a year back, but didn't expect to see him again. amazingly, he remembers me. or it could be the name badge. but i definitely looked familiar to him, and he called me by name without looking at the badge. unless he's got really good vision. anyway. i invited him to dinner with friends, who were in the city for the same reason. had quite a good time over the next few days. hung around each other for a bit. i definitely find him cute. and i think he's attracted as well. went clubbing saturday night, and basically i avoided dancing with him. simply because i'm attracted to him. (don't ask.) but he kept throwing looks my way. oh, and he got my number earlier. not that it would have any use, because he's back in london now. *sigh*

i am DEFINITELY into this guy. but again. he's six thousand miles away. the things i get myself into.

why or why not

why i love my profession

1. ?
   
2. ??
3. ???

why i hate my profession

1. most of the famous icons are egomaniacal assholes who don't care a whit about the rest of the world.
2. most of the clients are egomaniacal assholes with too much money and too little taste. and they don't care a whit about the rest of the world.
3. sooner or later, you end up becoming an egomaniacal asshole simply by association. or at least, your moral standards progressively decline.
4. you spend innumerable hours chasing deadlines, whereby at some point everything becomes moot and academic because you have to revise drawings one million times before anything gets built.
5. i have never been comfortable with the work involved. in fact, i suck at it.

why i tolerate the shit involved in my job

1. it involves pretty things. looking at good design is always uplifting.
2. once in a while, you get a chance to do something interesting or exciting.
   
3. it pays the bills and gives me something to do.

i think the conclusion is quite clear. and yet, somehow, i can't seem to let go.

the evils of social networking sites

gaaah.

my ex is on facebook.

him. the self-confessed anti-social of the century. on facebook.

excuse me, satan, but what is the ambient temperature you are experiencing? because i believe hell has frozen over.

i'll admit, i tried to search for him about a week back. i came up with half a dozen people with the same name, but i know they're not him because of 1. the photo, 2. the location / hometown. and i figured he'll never do anything like use a social networking webbie, with ridiculous applications such as vampires and werewolves. (i mean, seriously, come ON! how juvenile can you get???)

and when i wasn't looking, BAM!!!

his name came up on my updates page. one of my grad school classmates is now friends with xxx. i couldn't help myself. i clicked on the link. and sure enough, it was him. (who else could it be? we were all classmates over a year ago.) i have to say, he looks pretty miserable on his photo. hah!

now, the question is - to poke or not to poke? to send message or not to send message?? to add as a friend or not to add??? (oh man, i can just imagine what kind of relationship detail to put. 'you dated in 2006 but it didn't work out and you are ready to kill each other now.' heh.)

it took all (well, almost all) of my self-control not to do any of the above. i'm pretty proud of myself now, i have to say. if he wants to look for me, add me as a friend or whatever, he will. not that it will happen anytime soon. chances are i'll give in before he even has an inkling of how to search out people, much less have any inclination to look me up.

i told myself that i need to preserve my pride this time around. i will pretend i didn't see him on that blasted creation, the bane of my existence. or that i have more important things to do than check my facebook account every other day.

yeah, right.

nothing doing.

as of today, i am officially unemployed. although this is already week four of not going in to work. mind you, i haven't been idle. the days have passed so fast, i actually feel cheated. week one, mom came over. week two, i went to indonesia. week three, dad came over. (don't ask why they had to come separately.) now, week four, i have a conference to attend at the national university. and i have friends coming over (because of the conference). so basically, my days have been quite full, and it should come as no surprise that i haven't figured out the rest of my life yet. or that i have not done as much packing as i should have.

my suitcase is now three-quarters full, and i've only packed maybe half of my belongings. HELP!!!

i'll probably leave a lot of my things at my sister's place, for collection at a later date. but the mere thought of having to PACK them stresses me out. and deciding what to take and what to leave behind. *sigh* oh. and did i tell you that this is the fourth time i'm moving in little over a year??? across three countries and two continents, no less. it doesn't get any easier, i tell you. especially when, each time you leave home, you think it's for the long haul.

here's to living out of suitcases and packing boxes.

daddy short-legs

for lack of a better moniker. he doesn't have long legs. in fact, i've outgrown him ten years ago. though he wouldn't admit it then.

he is in town, and he wants to have a talk about my 'career'. not that there's much left to talk about. he wants me to keep going the difficult - and in my opinion, totally unfulfilling and un-worthwhile - path. too early to quit, you're just starting, etc etc etc. yes yes yes. but you see, the point is not that my career is going too slow for my own liking. my career is not to my own liking. there is a big difference.

no news from the publishers / editors. there goes my last chance. i will have to transplant myself yet again. (third time in little over twelve months, good grief.) i'm sure someone is having a good laugh at my expense. i just wonder who, and why exactly it's funny. i suppose if you draw dotted lines across the world map of where i've been the past 54 weeks, it would look a bit interesting. still a few gaps i'd like to fill. oh okay, my life hasn't been so bad. but i just hate being in a state of limbo and having everyone breathe down my neck about it.

which brings us to the next point. i shall be transplanting myself back home. i suppose i can explore moving to some other multi-cultural global city, but to be honest, i'm quite 'transplanted' out. i thought i could actually start growing roots in my current city, but i guess the universe thought otherwise. can't argue with every other matter in existence, now, can we?

so, to home, and beyond!

(now if only i can stay so positive when i'm around naggy relatives.)

super inday returns

the long-awaited (?) sequel to super inday's story. not that she really had much of a story the first time around. but yes, people. your friendly neighbourhood domestic helper is back. with a vengeance. (you can ask me to stop making references to movies anytime.)

in this chapter of super inday's adventures, she forays into the uncharted waters of... media publications. *shudder* will she survive on half her current pay? will she have to forgo dinners out and saturday night social drinking in exchange for actually having personal time? will she have to *gasp* STOP SHOPPING??? (and just when she started updating her wardrobe, too.)

stay tuned to find out more...

coming up next - the house-cleaning.

unlocked.

okay. i am finally opening this blog to public access. not that i have a lot of readers left. i haven't been blogging for half a year, after all. i just thought that now is as good a time as any.

of course, sister had to ask about my blog when she saw me checking out my friends' blogs. i haven't decided to revive the blog just yet, so she doesn't need to know.

the blog bug bit me while i was updating my multiply site a few weeks back. have seven entries there, might transfer them to this site. or might not. the mood and style is a bit different from the current blog, i have to say. as is this post.

whatever.

*sigh*

i want to give up. actually, i've pretty much given up. and yet, here i am, still wondering what i should do next.

let's go through the facts.

1. i hate my current (and soon to be former) job.
2. i turned down one reasonably good job offer. (architectural post, simple job but good pay)
   
3. i have one standing job offer. (architectural post with better pay but maybe worse hours)
4. i have applied for aonther job for which i am awaiting a response. (editorial post in an architectural magazine. no idea about pay or hours.)
   
5. i have a valid work pass until 16 november, which allows me to stay on this island until then, plus two weeks on a tourist visa.
   
6. i am waiting for the outcome of my PR application, which, if approved, should come around 06 november. this will allow me to stay for five years, and opens up multiple employment opportunities in any field.
   

i've gone through the possible scenarios so many times, my head hurts. and my friends have probably had it up to HERE listening to me over-analyse the situation. i guess the question now is, should i play it safe or take the risk? i turned down the first offer on the pretext of better job opportunities, while the truth is i was just being crazy and imagining i'll land my dream job. so now i have to respond to the second offer after the weekend (we can't make them wait too long now, can we?) and commit to a decision. shall i be boring, and as a consequence, miserable by making a 'practical' decision? or shall i act out my true nature and do something that the rest of the world (i.e. family) would deem insane?

friends who know me well (i.e. over five years) opt for the latter. honestly, that's what i would want to do as well. but the truth of the matter is, i'm 28, an immigrant in a foreign land, with no idea how long i can stay here as an unemployed resident, and the burden of 'acting responsibly' rests heavily on my shoulders.

then again. i'm 28, and this may be my last chance to do something this drastic.

heart VS mind. story of my life. oh, the drama.

it gets better...

of course, after the arduous 30-hour journey, i come back to find that the boss has sacked me. i have one month to make his life a living hell now.

everyone keeps asking why, and i can't give them a straight answer. because i don't know why either. the angel of death / bearer of bad tidings did not give me a concrete reason for my getting laid off. so every time somebody asks me what happened, i get all upset. and it doesn't help, people, to keep asking WHY. so stop it. i had to tell my mom in a very irratated tone that they didn't think i was good enough just so she can stop asking. and she was very quiet after that.

i hate my job, i hate my boss, i hate my idiot of a team leader. i have a higher IQ than any of them, and yet i am the one without a job. go figure.

dear shithead.

I am filing a formal complaint regarding the handling of my flight from istanbul to athens, TK 1850 on 30 Sep, Said flight was supposed to depart on 19:35, and i was supposed to take a connecting flight from istanbul to singapore TK 66 at 23:45. Unfortunately, the first flight from Athens (TK 1850) was delayed by over SIX HOURS. It was then impossible to take my succeeding flight, and any other flight to singapore. There are no flights from istanbul to singapore that departs between 03.00 and 13.00. Likewise, there were no flights from athens to singapore during that same period. Hence, I had to wait an additional TEN HOURS to get on a flight to singapore. The most ridiculous part of the entire experience is having to wait INSIDE the aircraft for over THREE HOURS before we were finally given food, and then instructions to disembark the plane. Then we had to wait in the arrivals lounge for another TWO HOURS for things to be sorted out and people can board the plane again.

the delayed flight eventually took off around 02.00, from what i understand. however, i opted to stay in athens and fly out later in the day, because i had the same options either way. the ground staff arranged for alternative flights and accomodation, but again, we had to wait an hour before i and my other co-travellers were assisted. i finally left the airport at 03.30 to the hotel across the street, to sleep for only 4hours until i had to wake up for my next flight.

i was put on a TK flight from athens to istanbul departing 10.50, and connecting to singapore on SQ491 departing 13:30. i was not informed that the interval between flights was under 2 hours, which would make it very difficult to make the second flight. secondly, i was not informed that i cannot check-in for the singapore flight from athens, but would have to do it in instanbul. this makes the 1-hour layover even more ridiculous. when i arrived in istanbul, i hardly had time to check-in and get my boarding pass before i had to rush to the gates and board the airplane. had any untoward incident happened, i would again have missed that flight. fortunately, i did not have any checked luggage, only hand baggage. this facilitated my transfer to the next flight. again, had i checked in my baggage, there is a good chance i would have missed my flight, or i would lose my luggage. finally, i was not informed that the flight from istanbul to singapore had a stop in dubai; this meant that the flight time was split to three hours and seven hours. as such, i was not able to get the rest that i needed and missed from the previous night due to the incident which had me staying at the airport for over TEN HOURS.

i finally arrived in singapore this morning at 07.30, which was SIXTEEN HOURS after my expected arrival time. i had no time to go home and rest or even shower; i had to come immediately to work with all my luggage.

seeing all the above, it is only fair that i get a full refund for the flight that i did not take from istanbul to singapore, TK 66. i was unable to make this flight because of a problem with your airline, and not through any fault of mine. furthermore, i was greatly inconvenienced by the delays and inefficiency of your operations. had we been taken off the plane after waiting for one or two hours, i would at least have gotten a good night's rest instead of staying at athens elefterios venizelos airport until 03.30 in the morning.

i expect to hear from you within the week.

i don't need success

it's all about carving your career path. apparently. but i don't want to establish a career. i just want to do something that makes me happy. and what i'm doing now DOESN'T.

i don't need a six-figure salary. i just need enough to live a realitvely simple, middle-class life. i don't have to own a car. heck, i don't even need expensive jewellery. i don't care if i can't buy land and build my own house. i just need enough to keep me living my comfortable middle-class life until my time is up. travelling a plus. okay, maybe a requirement. but that will be my only extravagance. and a lifetime supply of stationery.

stationery? yes, stationery. to write. to keep in touch. to doodle and sketch. to keep myself occupied. and happy.

i don't need success. i just need stationery.

right.

have not blogged in a million years. life has been catching up with me. only reason i can spare a few minutes now is because i was out sick the whole day. who says only manilenos have a 3-day weekend this time around? i'm actually tempted to make it a 4-day weekend. am not *completely* well but i'm not incapacitated anymore, like i was this morning. what the heck. i deserve a break. especially after a hell of a month with ZERO personal weekends.

while we are on the subject of work gripe, shall i venture to say that work has robbed me of a personal life and has made me shirk some of my social responsibilities. i was so overwhelmed and bogged down by work that i actually forgot my volunteering assignment at the local art museum two weekends ago. THIS, after my family pretty much made me miss out - nay, FLAKE OUT - on my original volunteering assignment. don't ask. i'm probably on the coordinator's shit list now. *sigh*

there has got to be more to life than this.

ilovemyjob ilovemyjob...

repeat to self 10x a day.

sometimes i wonder why i got into this profession. the hours are murderously long, the stress levels are insanely high, and the artistic fulfillment just doesn't do it for me. partly because i think i totally suck at design.

this is one of those rare moments when i feel unsettled about my new job. most days i'm a happy camper. but sometimes, the insecurity creeps in (brought about by some criticism, most likely) and i am submerged in a pool of self-doubt. i start telling myself that i am not made for this shit. i tell my friends, and their response is "you??? why not???" i suppose it should comfort me that they think so highly of my abilities. but it actually doesn't. i think they have a tainted perception of me. or they have no basis of comparison except with themselves. i am quite artistic and creative compared to the average person. but i am totally hopeless compared to the average architect. maybe it's just me, but i really don't think i have what it takes to pursue such a design-dependent career.

so i tell myself this is just to tide me over for the next few years, until i have enough seed money to do what it is that i really love. how i'm going to get there, i'm not quite sure. but i know i'll get there. and that is enough to keep me afloat.

...

it's his birthday in five days. i've marked it in my calendar last year, and i never took it out. call it needless torture, call it insanity, call it helpless sentimentality. i just didn't really think i should just backspace him out of my life. and yet it seems like i am now persona non grata to him. i have not heard from him in ages, except when i drop him an email asking about the book he owes me.

speaking of which, the book arrived just the other day. which is probably why i am on this little sentimental road trip. it may have started a week earlier, though. after the company dinner celebrating the last day of the chinese new year's celebrations. while waiting for a cab, i decided to use an opening my colleague brought into our conversation. inebriated as i was, i started getting teary-eyed at the mention of the one i had to leave behind - or rather, the one who wanted to be left behind. i blamed my tears on the alcohol. because honestly, i was pretty ok before that. (excluding hormonal swings brought about by monthly cycles, of course.) it was then that i realised how much i was still hurting. i simply shoved everything into the deep recesses of my mind, perhaps my heart, pretending that nothing is wrong. and for the most part, it was true. but once in a while, a bubble breaks the surface, and the reality of the situation manifests itself.

i am suffering from a broken heart.

when i saw his handwriting on the envelope that my book came in, i felt a sharp stab in my chest. then i turned off the lights, closed my eyes and went to sleep. but not before a few tears made their way to my pillow.

he thinks - or thought - i would be going back to london. but he never really wrote to ask. i never really made an effort to let him know. he didn't know when i moved to singapore. he never asked. i never told him. but i asked him to send my things to my sister's home, where i'm staying at the moment. i just let him put two and two together. he's probably not that stupid.

part of me wants to write him a final good-bye letter (more like email) on his birthday. i'm assuming he will think i will remember. (we all know i do, but it won't hurt not to let him know.) a note from me on his birthday, he will assume it is full of well-wishes. but not this time. i wanted to send him a postcard two weeks ago, to make sure it arrives in time. then i thought - why the effort? i know i still think of him, but he doesn't have to know that. all because i have never heard from him since the day i spoke with him on the phone. overseas call. back in december. i get more information from our other classmates than i do from him. then again, everybody else is probably getting the same treatment. but i'm not everybody else. i was his "angel" and "saviour" - words he has used himself not twelve months ago. how easily men forget.

i read through our old emails, and all those hollow, unfulfilled promises he made just kept jumping out at me. i may be biased, but i'm not stupid. i can assume to be a bit objective - it's been over four months, after all. what i've read just... i am at a loss for words. it underscores his being a complete bastard, and my being a ridiculous martyr. part of me wants to send him an archive of the email highlights, and let him judge how much of a user he was. maybe still is. and i am not alone in this opinion. my other female classmates have said as much. he used me, but perhaps it's not so much his fault because he didn't do it consciously. but does that mean it's right? hell, no.

and he wonders why he can never get along with all his ex-girlfriends. that should be sign enough that he is a real jerk. but apparently, he is also very, VERY dense.

what a grouch.

i hate living with my sister. she picks at every. single. thing. it's almost as if she 1. is ashamed of me, 2. thinks i am a child that cannot be spoken to in a mature manner (hence, the incessant scolding), and 3. believes she is superior to me in all respects (which basically explains the first two points). if she weren't pregnant, and if i weren't such a mature, responsible adult, i would have snapped back at her (or screamed at her) days ago. this just makes me all the more motivated to find my own place. speaking of which...

i realise that it is near-impossible to find a cheap place to live that is close to work. my boss offered to have me stay at his old house in the east side, but my older sister did not fancy it much. maybe because the place is a few blocks away from the red-light district. hm. i myself find nothing very wrong about it. my only inhibitions lie with the fact that we saw men drinking in front of the house late at night. that, plus the fact that i will be living on my own most of the time... not really the most comforting of thoughts. but right now i would rather brave drunk men at my front stoop than a hormonally-imbalanced older sister who has always lorded it over her younger siblings. five years older than i am, and she still throws temper tantrums. i really doubt her ability to be a good mother. but that is not really my problem now, is it? poor kid. that is all i have to say. the baby will definitely need me around for most of its formative years. otherwise, the child will end up psychologically scarred and emotionally maladjusted. among other things.

right. back to finding a new flat. away from the sibling from hell.

to-do list (before i reach 30)

1. learn how to cycle.
2. watch U2 perform live.
3. make my first million (pesos).
4. go back to the City. (and gloat in his face. ha!)
5. be financially independent enough to live on my own.
6. travel to tibet.
7. get published. (not architecture-related)
8. learn (and be fully conversant in) a foreign language. (mandarin is acceptable)
   
9. cross the equator.
10. work as an intern (either in a publication or a kitchen!)
    

20kg

it's a pain in the neck trying to relocate to another city when your luggage allowance is limited to one mid-sized suitcase. when i moved across two continents (okay, one and a half) back in 2005, i was able to bring almost twice as much with me. argh. baggage limits were more lenient then, before all those crazy terrorist threats with ipods and fanta bottles. plus, you are allowed more stuff when taking long-haul flights. and i guess it didn't hurt that i flew business class. oh well.

it's really difficult trying to prioritise your worldly possessions. for sure, there are bare necessities that you shouldn't go without. but i wonder how many shirts and trousers i would need for the meantime, not to mention shoes or sandals. then there are the objects of sentimental value. they're not exactly necessary, but they're important. factor in unknown return date, and you have a very tough maths problem.

(X shirts + X trousers + X footwear) / Y months = 20kg ± 10%

moving is great. it's the packing that gets to me.

hangover without the alcohol

sakit ng ulo ko. leche.

i had tea at 5pm yesterday, at the coffee bean & tea leaf. and i wasn't able to fall asleep until 4.30am this morning. when i opened my eyes it was half past nine, and i realised i had a shitload of calls to make regarding my flight out later this week. so i forced myself out of bed despite my pseudo-inebriated state.

sakit rin ng tyan ko. ugh.

i'm going back to bed. i've done what i needed to do. wake me up when it's 5pm.

get. off. my. back.

GOOD LORD.

what does a girl need to do to get some independence in this household??? kill myself, most likely.

after the episode with mother last night - she got upset about my booking a flight that lands at an insane hour - my sister calls this morning and gives me an earful. and then the firm keeps bugging me to go over ASAP. which i would be more than glad to do, honestly. but NOOOOOOOOOOOO. the family must know EVERY. SINGLE. DECISION. i make. when i'm flying out, where i will be staying, how i will get there, when i will start work, when i will get to live in the office apartment, how will i get the keys, etc etc etc. GODDAMMIT. not everything needs to be planned out to the last SECOND, OKAY?!?!? so what if i booked a flight that arrives midnight in the middle of the work week? i'll get on nicely, thank you. i HAVE lived on my own for, oh, i don't know, OVER TWELVE MONTHS, haven't i? and that's WITHOUT ANY RELATIVES WITHIN SPITTING DISTANCE. i have to say, that was the best time of my life. to not have someone breathing down my neck every five minutes.

maybe i should just make plans and not let them know and disappear from their lives for the next ten years. i'll probably do something like that once i'm on my own, anyway. they need to realise that it is MY life. and that i am more than capable of taking care of myself.

i am SOOOOOOOO moving out of this nuthouse. for good.

blaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah

mother at peak of irritating behaviour today. probably because of my declaration that i will be leaving this stinkin' island in the coming week. she was asking about my plans, etc etc. when i will be leaving, how the housing is being arranged, blah blah blah.

she walks in while i was in the middle of blogging, and asks "how now?" we both know very well what she means, but she narrows down the choices by following up with, "how are your flights?" (that's the literal translation form chinese. essentially she is asking what has been done about it.) so i, unnerved, said that there is nothing yet. and she walks out, shutting the door behind her. (almost, anyway. the door sags and never fully closes when pulled gently.) at which point i decided that i should just as well book my tickets even without a response from my sister with whom i am supposed to stay for a few nights. so i went and booked a return flight on a budget airline, even though it arrives midnight. i don't care. i can always crash with a friend on the first night, i figured. they are usually awake at that hour, while my sister and brother-in-law are not.

i don't understand my family. my parents, especially. my mother, in particular. she wants me to stay, she whines and feels bad if i tell her i want to go away. but upon my return, my room has been turned upside-down and my things are missing. prior to my leaving, they bug me with all sorts of questions as if they are itching to get rid of me.
i don't know if it's the way my family speaks, or if it's simply my perception. every question is loaded. a sampling of common questions and what they mean.

• where are you going? - you're going out again?!?!
• what's happening with that job offer of yours? - you're still unemployed???
• what's for dinner? - you're cooking, aren't you?
• are you busy? - can you do something for me?
• when are you leaving? - aren't you supposed to be gone yet?

i have a few more days left in this city. so close yet so far. again, i feel like i would be more than glad to leave. my family really has that effect on me. unfortunately.

old shoeboxes

i have resolved to clean up my room before go to work abroad. that means putting everything in neat little boxes, so when the time comes for me to move out permanently, it won't be so difficult. besides, my mom had made a mess of my room while i was away (hardly a year in-between visits!) that i really need to sort my things out. i suppose my mother cannot be completely to blame. i DID leave my room pretty much a mess when i left back in 2005. but i share the blame with my older sister, who has not lived at home for - oh, i don't know - over five years. it is actually the presence of her junk that made me decide to pack up for good. i don't want anyone else to feel the irritation i felt while going through endless mounds of stuff that belong to someone who has not been around for half a decade.

but i digress. in the process of cleaning up, i chanced upon my childhood and teen-age treasures. and i actually surprised myself with how much of my high school years i remembered. things that i never thought of all these years - memories i forgot i had - just started surfacing. i suppose that's the whole point of keepsakes, souvenirs and memorabilia. they help you bring back thoughts which you would have otherwise discarded. and it feels safe to know that at the end of the day, a few years down the road... something will remind you of a place, an event, a person, or even a feeling that you once had.

in a way, it becomes yesterday once more.

rotfwl

you have to read this. it is the epitome of filipino wit and humour. i have not laughed so hard in such a long time.

actually, i haven't laughed for quite a while. i'm glad there are still people out there who can amuse me immeasurably.

oh, and while you're at it, check out this video. got it in the mail a year ago, but it still cracks me up!

yuck

overheard -

sister 1 : where's kuya?
sister 2 : with *girl's name*
sister 1 : yuck! na naman?

i thought i was the only one who had a problem with our brother's incessant fawning over his new, uh, prospect. i guess not. apparently, the female offspring in this household are more independent than the male.

it just hit me the other night how ridiculously often my brother goes out with this girl. as in almost every single night. and how much time they spend talking on the phone. like hours on end. and - get this - how they spend time talking until the wee hours of the morning RIGHT AFTER they've gone out. WHAT. THE. HECK?!?!

it's nice that a guy pays attention to a girl when they're going out, but this is ridiculous. i don't think i can survive that much scrutiny. alright, alright, i've spent quite a bit of time with the last one, but the truth of the matter is, we hardly went out on so-called dates. and we do not spend time chatting on the phone. we had our separate lives. (sometimes TOO separate, to be honest.) where the ex lacked in interest, the brother seems to possess an inordinate amount. it really just grosses me out. i'm sorry. all i can think of is - do you have a LIFE???

but, as the youngest sister puts it - they seem to both be needy and clingy, anyway. so they're happy. fair enough. i rationalise their behaviour by saying that the girl is leaving soon, and they are just making up for potential lost time. or whatever. but really. i would rather drop dead than have a guy be that infatuated with me. it just screams LOSER.

relationships aren't about not being able to survive without each other. it's about being able to survive with each other. and sometimes, it's even simply surviving each other. (admit it, there is always some annoying habit that drives you up the wall.) at the end of the day, i'd like to think that the guy i am with doesn't really need me, but simply chooses to be with me. because it means that any other girl would do fine, but he would rather have me. or maybe he thinks life alone may be good, but life with me is probably better. and that makes it a matter of choice, rather than a matter of circumstance.

it no longer becomes all about him, but about me. more than that, though, it becomes all about US. because it becomes a conscious decision to share everything, between two people.

life, liberty, and the american dream

cliche as it may sound, i think that's what i'm pursuing.

life on my own terms.

liberty from the expectations of those around me.

the american dream of making it in a new world, in a land of opportunity.

so i figured - where else to get all these than in the big apple?

nyc, here i come.

things i've learned in 2006

1. being away from home makes you realise just how much a product of your parents you really are. even when you don't want to admit it.
   
2. choose your flatmates carefully.
3. sometimes you can't make it on your own. but a lot of times, you can.
   
4. be careful whose advice you heed. if the person giving advice doesn't understand where you're coming from or how you live, then his opinion isn't worth your time. especially if he doesn't make the effort to recognise your differences.
   
5. people disappoint. accept it, live with it, move on.
6. no matter how hard you try, you're going to lose some friends along the way.
   
7. pay attention to your dreams. they can be scaringly accurate.
   
8. some people don't understand love, and there is nothing you can do to change that. not even when you love them beyond reason.
9. there will always be regrets. the best you can do is learn from them.
10. don't expect to get the credit you deserve. but don't let other people convince you you're not good enough, either. you know yourself better than they do.