Category Archives: random rants

I am Miss Typo.

One of my favorite mistakes is making typos.

I am irritated by this. Annoyed by his. I roll my eyes when I get corrected because I know it’s my fault, my fault, my fault. But.It’s.Just.So.Hard.To.Edit. It takes another person to let me see what my fault was. Gahd, I’m so lazy.

I hate editing my material. I’d rather edit or write. Not both. I hate doing both.

Then, again. This is my job. T_T

a mix of current whathaveyous

I’m just looking at this blank page now with no idea as to where this typing will lead me.

I realized I have been doing this for so long that sometimes I am unsure whether I was productive for that day or not. As a result, I had to work weekends just to make myself feel better. But that’s not the sole reason. We have this this client who, as my boss told me, seemed to have no social life other than social media. Hahaha!

That’s true. He always wants us to update ThisProduct’s Facebook Page even during weekends. Hello, no salary counted there. But, as I am new to this company and because I believe that sleep and weekends are not excuses for our duties on the social media, I decided to get on with it.

Thankfully, my boss informed me that they found this new platform where I can schedule my posts and post them in advance. No need to go online at a specified time. Works for me, as I have to help out in my aunt’s store during weekends.

Enough sharing for now. I hope to be productive today. :)

The Sari-Sari Store Prespective III: And she arrived.

The long wait—at least on my tito’s part—is over. His fiancé arrived yesterday in Manila.

I was sleeping when I heard my tito’s familiar voice. I know that my nap time is almost over because I could already hear him clearly. Just as I opened my eyes, he told me “she” arrived.

I put down my laptop carefully. I originally planned to do some more brainstorming until the late afternoon, but the soft snooze that my little cousin was making was too tempting to be disregarded. I slept sitting down, legs sprawled straight with my laptop on my lap.

I took a peek outside and saw her. She looked every bit like someone who just came from the airport. Lone black canvass bag hanging from one shoulder, comfortable pair of slip-ons, crisp white three-fourths, baby pink spaghetti-strapped blouse and maong shorts. Too typical to be singled out. Except that she was speaking with a slang.

Having been born and raised in Bicol like my tito, she understood Tagalog well. It’s just that her tongue was trained to reply in English. But I guess it did not matter to me. She wasn’t snooty—something that really bothers me about some balikbayans.

From the small window, neighbors tried very hard to conceal not to ogle. But they do. In hordes.

Thinking and Doing.

“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.

Am I real?

Sometimes, when I have nothing else to do except to lie down and wait for sleep to overpower me, I would think about the extremely bad things in life:

What will happen if I die? What will I die of and who will be coming to my wake? How useless I was for not being able to give back to my parents for all their hard work..

What will happen if I lose someone I love? Will I be crying as hard as those in television? Will there be times when I space out and find myself in a different place? What will I say or do if we meet again?

What will happen if I end up poorer than I am now?

I would cry just by thinking about all of these. And I never show my tears to anyone. They will just laugh at me and tell me I’m crazy or too paranoid, haha!

Five seconds later, when I exhausted my emotional self, I would think about happy and triumphant thoughts. (I don’t know about you, but I see this as an ‘exfoliating/rejuvenating’ process)

I would think about how happy I will be if I end up with someone I really loved and be able to share my future with him.

I would think about the children I will send to school—mine or not. I would think about how to reprimand them, teach them Math (a subject I am not good at) and watch them grow.

I would think about how will I be able to let my children taste how wonderfully I cook if I cannot cook right now.

And, I would smile until I sleep.

The Enigma That Is Mr. _

There will always be this person who will be an enigma to you.

He and you were not classmates. He and you do not belong to the same clique. He and you do not share common interests. He and you have not really shared a conversation.

But you found yourself admiring him. Because of how he faces life with a sarcastic tongue and a brilliant mind that shocks even those who take a bath and comb their hair everyday.

My friends and I agree that this person is every inch an ideal man for any girl. But he seems unlucky when it comes to love. For chrissakes, he deserves to be loved! But how cruel the world is, for letting him be among those who love—only he does not get his love back.

He is one-of-a-kind. As I write this, I sometime wonder if I ever had a crush on him. No, you would not fall for his looks. It would be because of his brilliance, his wit, his words.

Luck is the future girl, we think, as we see him pass by, ready for the next class. His eyes never look kind.

The Home That Is Iloilo <3

When I am at home, I feel different. The positive different.

Unlike when I am in Cebu or Manila where work calls me to be up and awake all the time, Iloilo is like a pillow-blanket-mosquito net combination. The place enables me to laze around all day and be happy in a world full of anything but rules and needs.

When I am at home, I have time to think. About me, my life and the people who surround me. I can think about them and space out for hours. Only my mother’s calls of the three most wonderful time of the day can break the spell.

Iloilo makes me lazy. While Cebu and Manila demands of me to clean my room or wash my clothes, Iloilo encases my being and makes me a bum. My mother would bark the list of chores that needed to be done, and I would pause for a moment and think that these is one of the best music undiscovered by men.

This is the only place where I feel most comfortable even when I have not taken a bath for days. All I seem to do all day is open the refrigerator and plug in something in the socket.

When I am in Iloilo, I can be very productive in the ideal sense. I have time for stimulating thoughts—not the ones filled with memos, attendance and office rules.

I lavish at the thought of leaving this place to go back to the workroom. Because it is only during that moment that I look forward to the day I can go home to Iloilo once more.