I found this on the website of Ads of the World. The younger me would have objected to the idea of working with my ex. Too many thoughts, fears, apprehensions. Then, there’s his new girlfriend. Of course, every girl ex-girlfriend would compare herself with the new girl. But that’s another story.
But this time, maybe I can be comfortable with my ex. I have respect for the guy. :)
Ah, I’m getting old.
Source: Ads of the World
I’m changing my blog’s name from sTALKs to The Stalker, the main reason being I want it to have a niche. Hahaha! I don’t know if I’m going to be more active in the next days, weeks, months, but I’m definitely trying to make my blog more useful (ermmm).
So, there you go. From now on, it’ll be more ranting and ranting. HAHAHA. 50% kidding. Hope you learn more from The Stalker in the coming days.
Bye for now.
I am not really a fan of Lady Gaga.
I find her style beyond eccentric. Original, but too beyond eccentric. Although I understand that she constantly wants to reinvent herself (like all celebrities), looking at her photos sometimes bothers me.
I have not seen most of her music videos, much less understood most of her songs. But there was one song which I really liked: Born this way. When I heard it, she instantly earned my respect. I think that this is one of the reasons her fans love her. No pretense, no ass-kissing.
Now, this controversy.
I admit that if it weren’t for my exposure to a higher education, I probably would have sided with those who say that she shouldn’t be allowed to do her concert here. I came from a Catholic school and we were streamlined to the views of the church. But when I reached college, my understanding of the world became clearer. I began to analyze things and saw where I stood. It was like wearing my first pair of glasses.
Lady Gaga should be allowed to hold her concert here. That, or the groups who condone her pay for the travel expenses of all those who want to see the concert outside of the country. Ayaw niyo namang papuntahin dito, eh di logical lang na bayaran niyo pamasahe nilang lahat, di ba? Haha!
Come on, people. Lady Gaga wants to go here because she wants to offer her fans the chance of listening to her songs sans music players. Let them be. Let them enjoy art. Let them be happy. You are accusing her outrageously for being so bold with her songs, are you sure that all the other foreigners who were allowed entry to the Philippines are not “evil” or “Satanic”? Just because they kept their mouth shut and they are not as popular, they were allowed to walk our beaches? Come on.
Our government is already full of those kinds of people. Let’s clean it up first before denying an “alleged bad influence” reach our concert grounds.
I am no fan of Gaga. But some groups just need to see or read a third party’s POV when it comes to music or art.
I’m currently reading Empress Orchid by Anchee Min.
It was a bookstore discovery made by Bemjo, while we were on SM North Edsa, looking at shoes. It was funny because we were both stooping down and trying on some pairs when she suddenly thought of Fullybooked and Powerbooks.
She asked me if I know where they can be found inside the mall. I said no. When we both straightened up and looked around unconsciously, our eyes caught the green and white colors of Booksale. And we left shoes for books.
Empress Orchid is basically all about a poor girl’s journey towards proving herself to become a worthy concubine for the Emperor. This is what I can deduce from the number of pages I have read. I’m not even halfway, haha! 
What I like about Anchee Min is the way she writes about day-to-day events—same reason I keep on reading Japanese, Chinese and Indian novels. Their plots are so detailed that each day never registers boredom. I am very much in love with how they write about nature and how they weave it with reality and emotions. They have deep respects for ordinary things, a phenomenon that is not so ordinary among people nowadays. These are also the reasons I love reading Filipino anthologies and it is one of my dreams to own a thick book of Filipino anthologies. Waaaah.
Even with my killer schedule, I still find time to read about it because I know the last page will be very much worth it. I recommend it for all of you who are under the same sky with me.
Just when you thought complaints are getting nowhere, here comes ComplaintsBoard.Ph!
ComplaintsBoard.Ph is the Filipino’s best and newest avenue to get actions with regards to their complaints on products and services. Simply register, submit a complaint and you’re done. ComplaintsBoard.Ph then gets in touch with the receiving company and they will personally deliver solutions to your complaints.
You can input as many complaints as you want. Worry not about your personal information because these won’t be disclosed to anyone–even the receiving company.
Get the best because you pay the best. Don’t waste your time to speak out! Post at ComplaintsBoard.Ph now.
Right now, I am sitting cross-legged in a heap of bed sheets on the floor. Liwa and I slept over at Mommy Shiela’s house after a night of Tanduay Ice, The Bar, chichiryas and chismis about work, life and love.
It was Wednesday evening, around 7:30, when we first thought of doing this. We were all heading home, half-complaining about the amount of work that we juggle daily, but nevertheless happy that we are all heading home.
After a few suggestions on what to drink and bring and Mommy Shiela suggesting we all spend the night at their house, we excitedly waited for the day.
I thought I would be late. I was jam-packed with scripts to edit and content plans to finish. By 6PM, I was only halfway between both. I told Mommy that maybe I’ll just catch up with them. I knew half the route, because Mommy lives somewhere inside Road 20 and I, in Novaliches. She told me she’ll give me instructions.
But, Bacchus or Lourd de Veyra or Angelica Paganiban seemed to be in my favor tonight. I asked my boss if I could bring home my work and just email it. She agreed. Between having me there and paying exorbitant electric bills, I reckon she thought the latter was a bigger loss. Just kidding. I would still be e-mailing my outputs once I’m done so I guess my presence or absence would not matter.
We went to Parco’s Selection, the nearest supermarket, got the bottles and chips, hailed a cab and chatted all the way to Road 20. We were all eager to see Mommy’s baby girl, Anya (who has a nice name, by the way). She warned us against greeting Anya first and said the latter would be the first one to make ‘papansin’ when she feels she’s ignored.
Mommy’s family is nice and accommodating. When we arrived, their dogs started barking. But their tails are between their legs. We saw Anya and tried our best to ignore her. Liwa couldn’t hold hers and greeted the latter. As expected, she did not even glance back.
By 10PM, we were already outside, enjoying sunflower seeds and alcohol. They told me things I never noticed happen in the office. It seemed to me that I was really apathetic or unobservant. I was surprised that both of them agreed on seeing the same things and I can only gape. Hahaha! Nah, it’s not that I’m too workaholic. I really just didn’t go beyond my usual tasks.
We talked about one of our boss’ real gender and wondered if he and our other boss were in a relationship. We talked about office issues, dissected each of our office mates’ attitudes, who likes who, who dislikes whom, who is most and least disliked, and who seemed to disliked a lot of things. The night seemed to spy on us too, because there was very little wind and everything, save for the occasional barks from the dogs, was quiet.
Only our laughters broke it.
We also talked about two of our officemates who left. They got better offers and less work. One is looking for a greater challenge in her career and the other, just a chance to breathe from the number of brands she used to handle. I liked both of them and thought their absence was such a great loss for the company. One of them did not cry but the other one cried all day as people kept approaching her.
We slept around 2AM, and I remembered Barney Stinson saying, “Nothing good happens after 2AM”.
“Ganyan talaga ang buhay” was the recurring statement of the night. So it seemed. For all those who are still hunting for jobs, for those who cannot find what they really want, for those who lost what they have and for those who can only wait to have what they want to have, the night is young. There will be plenty of chances for those willing to wait.
Meantime, do what we did and douse your stomach with alcohol.
Ganyan talaga ang buhay.
This is who I am now.
Every day that I am in the office, I bring lunch, a drink, two sets of snacks and if my wallet allows, tiny sweets. I find it funny that I look like someone who’s battling hunger everyday. I suddenly feel sad for those kids in poverty-stricken areas.
I leave home before 9AM to make it to the office before 10. Before that, I should have drank milk, eaten a sandwich or a light breakfast. At 11AM, the first set of snack goes down. Lunch happens around 12 in the afternoon. Even when I already ate two sandwiches an hour earlier, trust me, my stomach is already hungry again. At 3PM (after a conscious glance at the computer clock), I would munch on the second set of snack or the tiny sweets. Before I leave the office at 7, I would have consumed enough to feed two to three people one square meal each. Hahahaha!
Is this weird? :D
It was only until three weeks ago that I learned about our little barangay’s fiesta.
Early today, we decide to go to church in the morning. I would have preferred it on the 7th, at 12:30 midnight. Sadly, my cousins cannot stay up that late. And while I can, I cannot pull myself up in an instant during the early mornings.
But, as the minority, I lost. So, we went to mass, returned after an hour and a few minutes and ‘reopened’ my Tita’s sari-sari store. Outside, banderitas hung limply on the straw tied to electrical posts.
Is the fiesta mood kicking in?
My Tita Amy told me days ago that our barangay did not celebrate fiestas like most others in the province. In here, a lot of people were below the poverty line. Food was scarce, apparently. If they cannot afford to eat three square meals a day, what’s the point in serving food for the guests, right?
Even traffic is not prevalent. The roads were occupied in ordinary, regular paces, except perhaps for a few neighbors who had friends from neighboring communities. Most homeowners did not bother dressing up for the occasion.
I watched as kids wander around, garbed in their Sunday dresses and pants. They had plenty of coins in their hands and they walked in groups. Our store was one of the busiest. There were a lot of orders for tomato sauces, condiments and rice. Needless, to say, these were the only signs that Brgy. ____ is celebrating its feast day.
“The best time to plan about writing a novel is when you’re washing the dishes”.
-Agatha Christie
Perhaps I am one of those unfortunate people to not know who Agatha Christie is. I can only associate her name with the Enlgish Lit. That’s it. Heck, I’m even too lazy to Google her. Let her be part of those who will always stay a mystery to me until I gather enough willingness and Internet connection to research about her.
But I found this quote on the sidebar of my WordPress dashboard, congratulating me for my 365th post. And I can really relate with her.
I find it difficult to squeeze out peso-worthy thoughts without doing a non-thinking job. Sometimes, I would volunteer to rinse our clothes just so I can have time to come up with a discussion-worthy TVC concept. All these, because I am easily distracted when I am just sitting down with a pen in my hand.
I think about food. About him. About sitting in the toilet and reading a book about a dead person. About my family. About what I will be eating for dinner. About the food I have in my bag. Whether somebody remembered to text me. Whether I’ll die at 50. The list goes on.
But if my hands are occupied, I barely think about food and I never yawn. And usually, doing non-thinking chores do me good. For starters, I was able to land a job in the two areas I really love–Advertising and Journalism.
I like bus rides.
But not here in Manila. If I’m riding a bus here in the metro, there would only be five to ten minutes interval among checking if I still have my bag, checking if the bus did not go beyond my stop and watching whoever it is I am seated next to. Manila bus rides gives birth to the praning in me, so to speak.
But whenever I am in Iloilo–especially Miagao–words are not enough to describe my bus ride bliss.
I think that bus rides are therapeutic. They make anyone think. And see the rest of the world from their side of the 3×4 bus windows. When I ride buses, I think of the good things which happened to me. Then, I would smile. I don’t know about you, but bus rides give me this enlightened and light feeling. When I step out of the bus, I feel like I just came from the comfort room–refreshed and *cough*, relieved.
It saddens me that I cannot do the same thing here in Manila.
If there’s another thing I miss in Iloilo aside from my family, it would be bus rides. And maybe that someone I can sit next to and hold hands with and not talk about anything–just taking it all in.
