Being ate to an office mate

Here's an excerpt from my email to her:
Pag naging hindi kayo, here’s a list that you might want t consider or might have considered but shrugged off the idea:

1. Magbakasyon, alone. Think of yourself, just yourself. Think, not the kind that you’ll be kawawa without him, but what you CAN BE without him.

I have spoken to a lot of people who have limited themselves in the presence/cage of the other person, na hindi na tuloy lumabas yung mga magagandang mga pwedeng mangyari sa buhay nila. Now, they have cried to me, and were sorry that they didn’t listen to me.

I know you know these things already, pero you didn’t think these are also important: You can never be successful in a relationship (two-person) if you yourself have not succeeded in understanding what you really want.

2. Do other things, independent of you-and-him activities. Mag belly-dancing, mag yoga, mag pilates, mag choir sa simbahan (nyak!), mag aral – MAGING ABALA. This not only helps you forget about the anticipation, but also discover other things that may be your long lost passion.

3. Meet a lot of people. Stay away from people that remind you of him. It’s not that you’re moving on without him already, you’re just making sure that IKAW PA RIN YAN. HINDI KA SI (her name) with (name ng guy); IKAW SI (her name) NA lumaki sa (hometown), mahilig sa (whatever hilig mo), etc.

Honestly, girl, I’ve never been that hurt. Although, one ex-bf broke up with me through text, but does that qualify me to tell these stuff?

Well, maybe because this is my formula to BE HAPPY. TO be not hurt. To be independent. To be ME.


Manila traffic

One of the most interesting topics my husband and I have while taking the bus to and from work is our own funny ways to solve the country’s problems. We would discuss and laugh about the depressing traffic, corrupt officials, the misleading media, the surging unemployment rate, waste management and the like. Now, don’t get pissed. We care about our country in our own little ways, like religiously paying our monthly tax dues.

Today, we were trapped in another Monday traffic because we left home a little late than we usually do. Monday is the worst traffic day of the week; it’s not this crowded during the rest of the week. I’d always wonder why all these people packing the roads suddenly show up during Monday mornings! Okay, let’s count in the city university students who spend weekends at their hometowns (in the province). Let’s also add in the countless jobseekers (of both local and overseas employment), who thought Monday was perfect for job hunting time. Who else? I think those I mentioned above are not only the reasons for the population surge in the highway.

So, in the midst of sweaty, almost angry crowd inside the hot bus, my husband and (mostly) I aired out our frustrations. We witnessed the complete idleness of the left lanes (Southward), wishing those guys wearing gray uniforms would think harder. We sighed (intentionally loud) in frustration to the bus driver who still loads up his car despite hearing his engine’s cry of disapproval. We shrugged off our sweating polo shirts and faces, thinking that being reactive to this situation will just worsen our moods. Our hurting legs (because we stood for like miles) wanted to ask us, “Where the hell did your tax payments go?”

Cavite is becoming the most crowded place in NCR because new subdivisions targeting the working-class market are sprouting all over the area, specifically the towns nearest Manila. Laguna subdivisions seemed exclusive to the high-earning market, while Bulacan isn’t much participating in this again rising real estate industry.

These people who paid their tax dues regularly deserve more than just a narrow space in between the bus seats.


Hmmm let me see… I was trying to list down the passions I have discovered by following others. Hmmm … Hmmmm … Hmmmm … That’s it, I give up! I didn’t have such!

Passion no. 1: Drawing/Sketching. My dad used to sketch a lot. He had shown me his sketches of landscapes, animals, children and nude women when I was little. He was a good sculptor and singer, too. I truly celebrated him as an artist. But my drawing came out from but my own heart and soul (mind). Deep in my mind, I wanted to create a visual that tells something important, expresses a message needed to known. This quest, which is to convey whatever it is that wanted to burst out from my head to let others be aware of its existence, led me to sketch my way to this passion, alone.

Passion no. 2: Music, specifically singing. As I said earlier, my dad is a good singer. His voice is something that will easily catch someone’s attention. [He wasn’t able to record, but I believe that having played with several good bands during his active years was already a testament of his craft. He wrote songs, too. But just like my writing (un)capability, dad’s choice of words isn’t just the way to go when it comes to expressing great ideas.] I loved to sing, especially when I feel the rhythm and melody meshing through, down my chest they already hurt. I loved to sing because through it I could express what I feel, I could say what I wanted to say.

Passion no. 3: Music, specifically bass guitar. I hated Dad when he sold that electric bass I was eyeing on since kindergarten. The guitar just disappeared from where I used to drag it from during afterschool afternoons. He later told me that I had to choose between the microphone and the bass. He said it was rather difficult to sing while doing the bass; they often times don’t go together. So I had to make a choice. Before I blurt out b…, he would hand me lyrics sheets of songs that I would SING. [Maybe he believed in me, singing, rather than poking a heavy electronic instrument at 9. Very few fathers would sell their only daughters’ souls to rock ‘n roll.] So it turned I was only left to deeply appreciate bass lines, not make some of my own. I loved to rock ‘n roll, but when it comes to bass tunes, I want it done the reggae way. Bass lines in reggae provide the mood. They’re not only rhythmic, but also melodic. Reggae bass goes deep down your spine, unlike rock bass, which mostly fades away behind the squeaky lead guitar riffs. But I’m just 27, it’s not yet over.

Passion no. 4: Handicrafts, specifically sewing. I love to fix things because I love the feeling of accomplishment it brings. A friend once told me, "Shan, you're such a handyman!", when i told her about me and my husband painting our closets and some walls in the house. I particularly enjoyed fixing small things. They’re cute, and finish fast; hence, accomplishment in a flash. Specifically, I enjoyed making hand-sewn Barbie doll clothes. I would also make Barbie doll mini cars out of scrap wood. When I was 7, my greatest quest was to produce a running wooden automobile my size. Oh, how I hated rich kids with their mini-cars with bicycle pedals then, and how I marveled at the way the kids at Kolambugan race using their wooden scooters during summertime. They would race down through the hill sides, as these machines only have 1-2 small wheels, no motors or pedals. But, that was some invention, man!

Passion no. 5: Writing. It’s actually a part of my (umbrella) passion to communicate my ideas. Although I wasn’t the bookworm type, or the Journalism major, or the high school paper feature writer, I enjoyed toying with words. Words are also one great way to convey what your mind wants to tell the world. [And it’s one great way to type away your hours at the office when no sketchbook and pencil/paintbrush, bass guitar or a tin can full of scrap cloth, threads and needles are around; but just a PC in front of you.]