Three of Nine

When I look back 15 years ago, I realized, there are events in my life that seem to recur like an old movie replayed.

It was in December 1992 that I moved back to Cebu from Manila. I resigned from a job that had an offer for me to go to the US because I chose to get an SSS loan and use it to get married in Cebu. It was a budget wedding. Yang was still in Manila but I did propose for him to follow me back to Cebu. Oh yes, I did the proposing. I planned everything. Even went begging sponsors to spend for each item I could not afford instead of buying me a gift I could not use. I was prepared to start from zero and I convinced Yang to follow me blindly.

It was in December 2007, that I made the bold move to decide on a trip to Auckland. I resigned from a job that offered a new project on a new technology I was desperately waiting to happen. I could not wait. This time I convinced Yang, Insoy and Basti to start all over and follow me blindly. We are leaving behind family. Just like in 1992, I went ahead. I did the planning. I made sure everything is in place.

And the story begins…

Scene 1. Lolo dies and I promise to return to Cebu to take care of Lola. Sadness fills the air.

Scene 2. I return to Cebu, announce to my family over lunch that I am getting married. Dad turned cold on me. The silence in the house was deafening.

Scene 3. I wanted so much to get married, looked for a house, got myself a yaya, made a loan to spend for the wedding. Only happy thoughts.

Scene 4. Lola dies. I was devastated. I did not want to get married. Wore the wedding gown, had tantrums and was on the verge of a pray over. Confusion. Background music – I’m afraid to fly but I don’t know why. Seriously lost.

Scene 5. Family convinced me to go ahead to get married. Wedding day. Everyone was relieved it was over. Me thinking what next. Life goes on.

Scene 6. New couple, new apartment, a yaya and house starts to look better with stuff we acquired and saved for. Life is good BUT not for long. Flash flood hits Talamban. Wedding photos swept away, only refrigerator survived. Even the spirit drowned in the pool of mud. A picture of labor in vain. Dreams crashed. Don’t know where to go. Only had each other to hold on to.

Scene 7. Cleaning and healing. Goals changed. Baby project prioritized. 2 years trying. Forever waiting.

Scene 8. Candles offered in Guadalupe. Novena masses for Sto. Nino. Prayers answered. Insoy came. What was in black and white is now filled with colors.

Fast forward to 2008. The story of my life is remade. This time in another country. The actors older and wiser. Starting over. Fears revisited. 4 people holding on to each other. It will have a happy ending.

Natasha Bedingfield singing…

I am unwritten,
Can’t read my mind
I’m undefined
I’m just beginning
The pen’s in my hand
Ending unplanned …

Drench yourself in words unspoken
Live your life with arms wide open
Today is where your book begins
The rest is still unwritten

… and I dance to the music of my life. barefoot and crazy happy.

Two of Nine

We were a band of 6. Not even close friends at that. Except for Jennifer who I hanged out with after class, we just decided to skip class and take the afternoon off. We were in the Grade 6 graduating class. The Grade 5 girls scout investiture will be held at 2:00 pm. We had lunch together and decided not to attend the boring afternoon activity and instead head for my grandmother’s house (only because that was the place that was near our school and NO I did not plan this). Several mistakes were made. One, I lied that we were sent home early and that mistake cost me a whole lot of trusting to be gained. Two, we played mahjong the whole afternoon. Three, we didn’t even know we were in for trouble. One of the girls went back to school as she was being fetched. One of our teachers doing the attendance saw her and that started the scandal. Sr. Teresita, our principal, could not let this day pass without us having to pay for it dearly. She will not have grade 6 students cutting classes for the first time in STC history under her leadership. My aunt, the assistant principal then, washed her hands like how Pontius Pilate washed his for Jesus’ blood. Another aunt, a teacher and librarian, must have wished I was not at all related to her. My grandparents (who were my guardian then) and my parents pleaded with the principal to lessen my punishment and aim at striking out this day as a petty 1st time offense that should not affect my chances of moving up to 1st year high school. I did not like the fact that we were in library detention for 3 days to show the whole school that we were punished but I enjoyed the time we spent reading any book we liked. (and we did play card games when my aunt the librarian was not looking). We were also asked to pick up books that other kids left. Oh, yes, the library was now full of younger kids wanting to see the erring six pack. We felt exhiled but the bond we had for each other stuck like glue. What a way to be remembered, huh? During our last reunion, we found that most of our other classmates remember that day vaguely (thank god for epidurals and early signs of aging). We had our redemption and atonement after the suspension, graduated from grade 6 together with the rest of the class, and kept in touch. One married a lawyer and is now in the US. One is a photographer in Washington DC. One is the genius behind the IPI Sinulog float and Casino Femme ad. Another a mother and the other a doctor. That day made me realize that it takes a lifetime to gain back trust – so after grade 6, we made better “never get caught twice” plans. <insert evil grin here>

One of Nine

I have promised myself to write more and put a goal to start and finish this nine-o-logy.

The nine-o-logy will be the long version of the 9s post. I have decided to post it in a series so as not to bore myself as I do read my own posts. Plus when one is alone, writing seems to be the antidote for sleepless nights.

One of Nine will be about tricycles. Of all the vehicles I have difficulty riding, it would be the tricycle. Even when I was 90 lbs lighter, I couldn’t get myself to sit inside the “cube” (for lack of word to call it). I would either sit at the back of the driver or sit at the extended chair near the step board. The difficulty stems from the fact that I cannot manipulate my body to extend my legs or propel myself out without having to do awkward body calisthenic that usually end up with me bumping my head or getting a hematoma on the exposed parts of my body. Oh, I’d rather walk.

20 years ago, my sister jumped out of a tricycle and knocked herself unconscious. Her minions of stars guided her towards the veterans hospital along quezon avenue. It was just the 2 of us in Manila. I worked in Makati and stayed in an apartment along San Juan while she studied in Ateneo and stayed at Tita Yolly’s. On that same night, I decided to take her out of that hospital ward and brought her to my apartment. The doctor gave me instructions that they can only release her if I promise I could take care of her. I did not sleep that night. I knelt at the side of her bed (in the dark) praying and weeping silently that she will be alright. It was a long night. It was the hemorrhage that I feared most. What do I know. The next day, she was off to St. Lukes Hospital. They took better care of her and by then my parents have arrived from Cebu. I moved to her apartment after that incident but the memory hunts.

4 years ago, Basti disembarked from a tricycle that have not fully stopped. He lost his footing and broke his left arm. The driver brought him to the Guadalupe Baranggay Hall. I was at the office. I received the call. I drove Mandaue to Guadalupe with spirits in limbo. He was laid on a table and people gathered around him. I could not hear what the people were saying, I knew they were talking to me. My impulse was to rush him to the hospital. I drove to Chong Hua and the xray confirmed that the fall indeed broke his arm. They took him to the operating room. They had him on anethesia. They called me to the recuperating room after the operation. I sat beside his bed while waiting for him to wake up, praying and watching him. One hour of waiting is not enough to erase the blame and the what ifs. Basti woke and his first word was “Mom”. I was with him.

I do not have the power to be beside all the people I love and stop them from getting hurt. But I do pray a lot and I now realize why my mother has kept so many santos & prayer books by her side. Being a parent, prayer is all you have and trust that God is watching even while we sleep.

But alas for me. Tricycles will never be my thing. No thanks, I will walk. And paranoia does run in my bloodline. How else would anyone want to jump off from a tryke. =

More about me.

Traits of people born on March (grabbed from Kaith’s site)

MARCH: Attractive personality, Sexy, Affectionate. Shy and reserved. Secretive. Naturally honest, generous and sympathetic. Loves peace and serenity. Sensitive to others. Loves to serve others. Easily angered. Trustworthy. Appreciative and returns kindness. Observant and assesses others.Revengeful. Loves to dream and fantasize. Loves traveling. Loves attention. Hasty decisions in choosing partners.Loves home decors. Musically talented. Loves special things. Moody.

Attractive personality, sexy and affectionate – murag dili ni ako. minus.

Shy and reserved – so true. ingon nila.

Secretive – not anymore.

Naturally honest, generous and sympathetic – i agree.

Loves peace and serenity – who wouldn’t!

Sensitive to others – it is causing me stress really.

Loves to serve others – for a fee of course. <joke>

Easily angered – depends on who we are talking about. hehehe

Trustworthy – you can leave me your jewelry and money.

Appreciative and returns kindness – you can bet on that.

Observant and assesses others – lisod na ma kidnap. told yah i love watching people.

Revengeful – i can plan and execute a very painful revenge. ouch!

Loves to dream and fantasize – that i own a red toyota celica, 80 lbs lighter, bathe in milk and 3 more inches taller.

Loves traveling – oh yeah.

Loves attention – from family mostly. (which I don’t usually get from my boys, argh)

Hasty decisions in choosing partners – awahi na ang pagbasul. hehehe

Loves home decors – love to have good home decors but can not afford it.

Musically talented – except for singing.

Loves special things – and special people too.

Moody – what? how did you know?

9

I was tagged by Aileen to write down 9 things about me. I am finding that it is hard to write down the things that made me who i am today – a daydreamer, crazy, stranger, simple to the point of lazy and paranoid person. For the sake of making this entry nouveau for those who know me and for those who have stumbled their way to this site, this blog entry is not the easiest if I may say. But it is truly liberating and I am tagging you to do the same. (pangamong ni ako)

i have sweaty hands and feet. (1)

i never leave home without a handkerchief with me. the sweat on my hands are uncontrollable. imagine the horror of having to re-do the finger printing at the US immigration line because my fingers never dried up inspite me wiping the sweat off. luckily, the immigration officer was very patient with me. the other passengers on my line weren’t.

i have recurring dandruff. (2)

i have tried all the latest dandruff shampoo and all the traditional and non-traditional ways of getting rid of this malaise, but it hunts me forever. why do i have to get all this stress related inconveniences? and oh, 2.1, i do have recurring migraines too. i guess the best solution is to shift careers. IT is not good for my health. and my diet is perfectly fine just in case the health police is reading this.

in my secret world, i am a good dancer. (3)

i auditioned to be a part of the university’s filipiniana dance troupe. i did not have technical training and previous dance experience. i failed the final test to do the tinikling with a partner. i envy those who made it. now, i will just have to contend with dancing in my room all by myself and imagining it is my stage. i still do dance alone, in the bathroom at times, whenever i feel like being secretly mischievous. dancing makes me extremely over the top happy. and in my secret world, i could dance and choreograph like kelley abbey (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bL921k-LhIQ). whew. liberating indeed.

i have a fear of drowning. (4)

…in the bathroom. i acquired this paranoia at an early age of 2. when my grandmother would bathe me and pour water on my face and cover my face with soap with her hands, i would go ballistic and run even before it happens. the solution – i put soap on my hands, pat it on my face gently and take up little cups of water in my hand and quickly dab it on my face without letting it touch the eyes. that’s not even half of it, shampooing would take a longer routine. i think this should be more of protecting my head from water thingy. i am weird and yes, i have finally snapped out of this fear (thank god for showers). this time, it is the fear of drowning in the beach. i have conquered the pool (so don’t ask). it takes time to heal paranoia. my favorite bath item – kabo (dipper in english)

i loose focus easily. (5)

i start on a project (with wild abandon) but after the initial love at first sight, i loose focus and shift to another thing. i hate that i am sucker for challenge and appreciation. cooking, piano, guitar, painting, photography, writing, cross stitch, hawaiian, reading, gardening, soduko, work… next one please.

i never had long hair. (6)

…up until today, i always had short hair, the one that is cut really short that i have to wear earrings for people to correctly guess my gender. i have wavy freezy hair caused by a curling mishap forced by my dad who thought i looked good sporting a short version of the jackson five’s do. i have long forgiven him for that day and have accepted the fact that i will never have a long pantene commercial like hair. i took a leap of faith 2 years ago (not computing the cost) to keep it long, have a professional maintain it because long dead like strands look better than bald and white hair. plus my best friend thinks i look a whole lot better as it matches my weight. it does cover up the cheek and back of the neck fat deposits.

i don’t like bringing a bag. (7)

i am lazy. if a cellphone wasn’t a necessity for me, i would bring enough cash and put it in my packet, a car key and my hanky. when i buy pants, it has to have a pocket somewhere. but alas, kids, long hair and the weather requires a bag. not a small handy one but a huge one that can store nintendo games, a brush, quick hair repairs, umbrella, a book, rosary, perfume, kikay kit, lip gloss and wallet for the credit cards. argh.

i always had short nails. (8 )

again, a sign of laziness. can’t keep them long or else i will have to deal with maintenance. never had and i never will try on long nails. there is just a certain finality on this statement that i dare not cross over. amen.

i love watching people. (9)

i was raised by my grandparents. they have a big window facing a bridge that everyone passes. i was not allowed to play outside. i would read a book and sit by this window, and stop to just watch people pass along. i could sit there and just get carried away. i do this at church, at the bus depot, at work… i am happy to be just observing and sometimes making up stories of why they look sad, or happy. it helps me cope and it feels angel-like to keep watch. someday, i will have a house with huge windows and i will be the security dog keeping watch.

Rain

The rain brings a cold, sad, desperate, lonely, sick feeling. Stop the rain, Mr Sun. Bring back the cheers, the golds and the open toe sandals.

* nagparandam lang… buhi pa ko ug gi tugnaw ug giminggaw.

my promise for May Christina

“There are two primary choices in life: to accept conditions
as they exist, or accept the responsibility for changing them.”
—Denis Waitley

one day, when i return to manila i will know where to find the original UP oblation. and i will be with my sister, may christina. i will be there when she fulfills one of her dreams — to find the bronzed sculptured naked man. we have been on this journey before but failed, but now we know where to find him.

oh this will be another unforgettable dr jekyll and mr hyde adventure. this time we will need better cohorts.

In 1950, the UP Board of Regents ordered that the Oblation be cast in bronze. This bronze statue was cast in Italy, under the personal supervision of Professor Tolentino. On November 29, 1958, on the occasion of the University’s golden jubilee, the 9-foot tall bronze Oblation was unveiled in UP Diliman, in front of Quezon Hall, the main administration building of the U.P. Diliman campus.

The original Oblation is now located at the 3rd floor of the UP Main Library in Diliman

Letting Go

If someone I love and believe in betrays my trust, I will let him go.  I am not a perfect person and I have committed a lot of mistakes in my life that caused hurt to others but I would rather walk out of a relationship that is not based on trust rather than pretend and live on a fairy tale that makes me lose my identity. (no matter how difficult it may seem, it takes courage letting go)

This is what I believe in and I will stand by it.

Note to those reading this: 2 people very dear to me (P and C) needs to read this entry to know where I stand on the stormy situation they are in right now. I love them dearly but seeing one hurt, there is no point on deciding who the victim is. I would rather they stop pretending that there is love left because they cannot love without respect… I say let it go and let the healing begin instead.

My HelpDesk Job

On my first day at work, I had lipstick on, pink blush over face powder and a good amount of happy heart. My hair was held at the back with a tie. I wore a black knitted blouse over a black tube. I came in at 9:00 am. The IT department is situated at the lower floor of the building that occupies one block along Albert St. Funny how I always thought of having an office on the top floor covered with glass windows and day dream all day. I could not complain of a corner desk with no windows at all and right at the back corner of the basement. It was work I wanted. I wouldn’t mind a desk on the elevator. Magpili pa diay ko?

I came through the reception area. Then I was led to the back door where the security officer told me to stand next to the wall while he takes my picture for my ID. This old security officer told me, think about a long weekend with your boyfriend. Oh, so I was supposed to smile? My photo came out with me looking nervous. He did the lamination and in seconds, I had my ID that allowed me access to doors to my department and other doors that I have yet to find out. I was introduced to Sandra who will be my training officer, she led me to the way she comes in to the office. It is through the parking lot and down metal stairs where I had to walk slowly hence my heels made this echoing sound. Sandra is from Europe. She looks Indian  to me but I suck at judging nationalities. She re-introduced me to Peter my boss and John. There are only 4 of us in this the JDE support department. Sandra answers calls logged in the computer as incidents from internal people. Our job is to support internal clients using the JDE system. Peter and John takes care of database changes when there is a need to tweak the data from various systems from various companies sent through a conversion batch into the system. We went through the process of how to view incidents, then how to add users. Sandra told me that most of our clients are in Fungarei. She kept on repeating this place so when I got back to my post, I started to search for users in Fungarei. The system could not find Fungarei. I heard it right. I even googled it, only to find out that in NZ, places that start with WH is pronounced with F. So Fungarei is spelled Whangarei. and Fakatani is really for Whakatani.

Oh, sweet. They keep on saying sweet. I must look like cotton candy with make up on. But no, ‘’sweet” or “sweet as” is an expression that is a version of “oh nice” or “great”. By 5:00 pm, all the people in our floor disappears. The motto is go to work, finish everything you need to do and go home when done. Poor me, I am always left on the floor because I insist I am paid 8 hours of work so I should be out of the office by 6:00 pm. But next week, I am changing this tenet.

We had lunch on my first day, Sandra, Peter and John. We had sandwich and salad. This was at this time they told me that in 3 weeks, John will be on vacation to the Philippines and Sandra is taking 3 weeks off to visit family in Europe. So that will leave me answering the calls and Peter doing the database changes. Shocking news indeed. But, exciting. If they cannot close month end in April, they know who to blame. Moi! =)

My 2nd day started with me doing support in between SQL coding on a bank statement reconciliation tool. Peter was working on the reconciliation for 3 months and he wanted me to try and fix the problems of his SQL script. Good heavens! I can’t go knocking in heavens door for another miracle. It was too abusive.

A certain user on the floor needed help with running his report, I was asked to find him. I was told this person was on floor 1.5. The elevator did not have a floor 1.5. I asked around, people were helpful. They asked me to go through doors, stairs, mazes of halls and finally I found my way to 1.5 that led into another building. I found the user on his tea break. He looked Filipino to me. I don’t want to be judgemental but he looked new too and he was totally rude. I asked him to check the version of the software on his machine and he tells me I had to wait until he finishes his tea break. OKAY! I said. If I have worked longer in this company I would have told him not to waste my time. My patience was tested. He finally comes back after a few minutes and I found out he was using an outdated version of the software. I gave him instructions to log another incident for the IT department to install the latest copy of the software. He tells me that I should do that. I told him I don’t do installations and left. Unsa ko, yaya?

I came back to my desk and I closed this incident. I could have written down “stupid user” on the resolution window but I didn’t want to end my career that way.

Time to leave the office. No one else on the floor but me. Came up to the reception area. Wanted to catch the 6:45 bus. Unfortunately, after 6:00, the exit door I used becomes unuseable. No one told me that. So I thought, my ID wasn’t functioning. I swiped back, front, back, front, sideways, whichever way possible but the door wouldn’t open. Afraid of closed places, afraid of being locked out, I look for another way out. I went back to the metal stairs. This time, if I couldn’t get out, I already thought of several ways to exit the building. One was to call 111 (NZ version of 911), the other was to scream “let me out” and the other one was to call for fire. Good thing all doors came open and I was able to catch the 6:45 bus.

When time on your hands depends on the next bus schedule, it is tough to be left behind. When living your dreams to get a Permanent Residency depends on the job you have taken, it is worth sleepless nights to think of how to fix the SQL script for bank reconciliation, I have done it. When eating rice has been part of your meals, a sandwich with avocado and tomatoes as spread will do, I have to learn the culture. Life will continue to throw challenges my way. Being all alone here is no excuse to be lousy. Next week will lead me to new doors, I will learn new things. When Sandra and John goes on vacation, I will survive. =)