Speeches and why some people do not listen to them.

People love compliments.

This is a known fact. But there are just some who ache for them. It’s like every listener is required to drop everything he or she is doing and listen to him speak.

I experienced this and boy, even though he was affiliated with a former client, am I glad I did not lie.

He was an important officer for a Russian Embassy. I was in-charge of the program flow for an event here in Cebu. I was all over the place, all the while attending to their needs. (Although it was not one of my tasks, I admit I can be pretty ‘epal’ or if I put it in a more understandable term, ‘hospitable’. LOL)

We were introduced earlier and I kept filling him in about the details of the program. He will be speaking in behalf of the Embassy and the Russian Federation.

After an hour and 30 minutes, we saw each other in one of the hallways of the Cultural Center of Cebu. He looked very pleasant, came up to me and excitedly asked if I heard him speak and how would I assess it.

I apologized for not having done so and told him I was busy. He looked crestfallen, took it badly and turned his back on me.

Whaa–. Hello, I’m no DC Comics character. I was saddened that I did not have even a moment to listen, but after a while, I realized I did the right thing. If I made time for him, the other parts of the program may not have pushed through. He is (in a way) a client but as the in-charge of the program, I also have other tasks to do.

It saddens me that not a lot of people can understand the ‘other things that happen’ in a short span of time. It is kind of selfish (I know, I am one too, but not in this case).

Oh well. Everyone is not an audience of just someone, I guess. Even if you’re really, really important wherever you came from.

Videoke sessions with people who used to be strangers.

I miss these people.

This videoke session happened over four months ago, and I am wondering if it will happen again. Some of them may not be the people whom I have known for more than a year, but it seemed that there is instant friendship between us. One that has a chance of lasting forever.

:)Hope we can have one of these again.

a little LOL won’t hurt

Even though I am not much of a Facebook-er these days, when I get bored, my fingers fly to the said social networking site. After all, it wouldn’t hurt to do some online sightseeing.

One of the posts there made me laugh hard. For someone who shares the free Wi-Fi with a lot of other girls on the second floor lobby, I really had a hard time containing my snigger. When I showed it to my friends, they lost their wits laughing as well.

“A girl in love, no matter how age she is in, says:

18: give me a HANDSOME MAN.
21: give me the BEST MAN.
25: give me a GOOD MAN.
30: give me a MAN.
40: wala pa MAN?
50: diin na MAN?
60: ano ni MAN?
70: Lord, ngaa MAN?
80: wala na gid MAN?
90: ay, kaluoy MAN.
100: ti MAN.”

We need THIS a lot these days. Especially when the weather is cold. Especially when you’re deemed to be crazy. Especially when you’re in your senior year at UP, doing thesis. :))

a shared laughter

Of what use has laughter when it is not shared?

It has already become a habit of mine—asking for the latest chismis in our place, that’s what. Every time I would go home, this would be one of my styles in opening a conversation. And like a trusty rumor-monger, my father would reply, “Oh, just the usual…Mr. and Mrs. So and So’s daughter ran off with a man, Young Mr. X got himself a wife and they decided to live in together, another neighbor’s cat lost all nine of his lives…”

And the dining hour would be filled with laughter and horrendous amount of stories, jokes and (occasional) spit erupting from all four sides of the table.

We are not a family who gets to say I Love You to each and everyone every single day. Sometimes, I would even forget to kiss my mother or father when I arrived from Who-Knows-Where. But when we laugh at some stupid joke, the lack of emotionally related words reconnects the family within us.

This is one of those rare moments when I’d rather stay home, forget about school and just have dinner with my family, every single day. How so? For another nine months or so, my father would leave and work inside a big metal ship too cold to be called a home. Bitter? Yes. Ship-hater? No.

Then, we would all be missing that one laughter which is the heartfelt of all, the one we can only hear for three months in a year. We will all be missing that big-bellied, shirtless of a man who is my father. When I think about it, even if we laugh 24 hours a day for the next three months sans my father, how useful would it be if we cannot share the same laughter for nine more months?

But I guess, this is also one of those rare moments that I can do nothing (except rant) about. Maybe it’s the reason why some laughter are easily forgettable while there are some which lasts for a lifetime.

weird jud!

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I have done/experienced the weirdest of things lately.

For this summer internship, I was expecting wads of radio or TV scripts, video and photo editing and mega-brainstorming. Or if I had been unlucky, stirring somebody’s cup of coffee, photocopying papers, holding an umbrella over somebody else’s head or holding a masking tape for hours.

But we have been lucky. My friend and I have a great boss and the people we have worked with for the past weeks are anything but snobs.

Now here are some of those weird things included in my internship tasks:

• Being humped in the leg by a mayoral candidate’s dog while we were waiting for her to dress up for a live interview
• Taking a photo of a billboard while holding on to a lamppost, in the middle of a traffic and a slight drizzle
• Photo session with a bunch of empty soap boxes
• Taking a picture of a halo-surrounded sun
• Crashing into a mayoral candidate’s lunch meeting for a photo release
• Waking up two days straight for a radio interview which never happened
• Sleeping in a restaurant’s couch (even when there wasn’t any form of ventilation) while waiting for a group of people
• Entering a church which will never open again for the next 25 years
• And many, many more!

All in the Queen City of the South! :)

On The Quiet World

I would like to share a copy of “The Quiet World” by Jeffrey McDaniel. When we did a short film once, we made this poem as basis for our storyline.

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The Quiet World
by Jeffrey McDaniel

In an effort to get people to look
into each other’s eyes more,
and also to appease the mutes,
the government has decided
to allot each person exactly one hundred
and sixty-seven words, per day.

When the phone rings, I put it to my ear
without saying hello. In the restaurant
I point at chicken noodle soup.
I am adjusting well to the new way.

Late at night, I call my long distance lover,
proudly say I only used fifty-nine today.
I saved the rest for you.

When she doesn’t respond,
I know she’s used up all her words,
so I slowly whisper I love you
thirty-two and a third times.
After that, we just sit on the line
and listen to each other breathe.

When i first read this poem, i wondered how everything would go if the same law will be implemented in the Philippines. How quiet would it be? How will things go? Will the country be more peaceful? Or even more chaotic?

But perhaps we will be more sensitive–to ourselves and to others. I think that if the Philippines becomes a “quiet world”, we can hear and understand better. We will hear the birds chirp, the song of the wind and of every falling raindrop.

Perhaps we should try, one day. Just once, to have a quiet world for a day. :

living a toxic life

I’m slowly getting used to this kind of lifestyle.
And I’m not 100% happy about it.

Going to a new place for a short period ultimately boils down to financial and physical instability. There are many reasons why I am living an extravagant and sometimes unwise lifestyle this summer. Here are some:

We seldom ride public transportation because most of the time, if not always, we walk. If we’re lucky, other people like our boss, a future public official and the friends of our friends let us hitch a ride on their A-class wheels. Besides, walking means less chances of getting lost.

The room is air-conditioned. Not being a fan of the big, noisy, squarish machine that cost us the huge ‘patong’ on our rent, I would wrap myself from head to toe with the inch-thick comforter I brought along. Oftentimes, I would also fancy wearing a bonnet—earning the latter its monicker, the ‘Kawatan Hat’.

Most of the time—meaning breakfast, lunch, dinner, we would eat outside. And since I would always reiterate the importance of not acquiring Hepatitis A, each meal of the day would cost each one of us at most P100-150. The home-cooked meal is even pricier and it will always be fried. Fried fish, fried hotdogs, fried longganisa, fried egg and fried ham. Forget the why-did-we-not-cook?-option. We do not have the balls, oil and pans for it.

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There are just too many malls. Since Cebu is progressing to become one of the most industrialized cities in Asia, a lot of ‘commercial boxes’ are sprouting out of the ground. Inside these commercial boxes are loads and loads of rainbow goodies which—in a way—answer Abraham Maslow’s hierarchy of needs. I am one of those hags who just can’t get enough of one broomstick.

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Our lifestyle is somewhat toxic.
It’s the ‘I’m-slowly-getting-used-to-it’ part that scares me.

Wish us luck for one more month of a toxic lifestyle. :)

On appreciating beauty

Gay people just amaze me. Period.

One time in our class, our teacher asked us. ‘What are you looking for in a guy/ girl?’ and added ‘physically’.

Some said the eyes. Fair skin. Teeth. Nails. How his feet fit perfectly in his shoes. And a friend even answered ‘the absence of eye bags’. Since I was in the third row, I got ample time to think. Quite frankly, nobody has ever asked me that question since high school. My college friends and I talk about it but we never limit ourselves to a person’s physical aspects.

Ikaw ba naman ang sagutin ng ‘personality’ at ‘intellect’. =)

When everybody’s ears were finally on me, I started. ‘I used to look at a person’s eyes first, then on his complexion (fair to pale is goody good)’. ‘Now?’ urged our teacher. ‘As long as he’s gay’

Then everybody laughed boisterously.

I don’t know. I am not bisexual nor a hermaphrodite. I just appreciate gays better than boys. I read in a magazine in the serials section of the UP Library that women tend to like/ relate to gays more than boys because gays are the expressive type. I found myself agreeing.

After class, when the laughter died down, I realized I was not able to give the correct answer. But who cares? Laughter is the best medicine is better than Think before you speak during that time.