Month: January 2007

Nuances:

  • dry clacks of keys on the keyboard
  • uncontrolled office chatter
  • muffled ringing of an unanswered telephone (nobody else cares except Melder)
  • officemate  singing first few stanzas of Pearl Jam’s “Betterman” to stave off the sleepiness
  • rustle of paper
  • hum of the malfunctioning airconditioning
  • laughter from the women’s bathroom
  • thump of impatient feet
  • mouse clicks
  • cold sandalled feet
  • aroma of instant coffee
  • stale, reconditioned air

Nuances:

  • dry clacks of keys on the keyboard
  • uncontrolled office chatter
  • muffled ringing of an unanswered telephone (nobody else cares except Melder)
  • officemate  singing first few stanzas of Pearl Jam’s “Betterman” to stave off the sleepiness
  • rustle of paper
  • hum of the malfunctioning airconditioning
  • laughter from the women’s bathroom
  • thump of impatient feet
  • mouse clicks
  • cold sandalled feet
  • aroma of instant coffee
  • stale, reconditioned air

Bound

Today’s weather provided the fitting atmosphere for my wistful mood. Grey clouds, wind whispering on the treetops, the possibility of rain, and the cold clammy hold of the air biting unmercifully against exposed skin.

A friend wishes out of her situation. Yet it seems that tentacles of cruelty and masochism are holding her pinioned to where she is right now. It might take an act of true strength for her to escape from the bondage she is in.

An sadly, nobody can be a hero in her time of need. But hope lies within herself. If she’d be strong and true to what she wants, all else would not matter. In the end, if she makes it, she’ll be tougher.

Musing aloud: if we are so free to make decisions to change the course of our destinies, why is it harder for some people to get away from hurtful situations — is it the Universe’s way of saying that that person has still stuff to learn within that mire? Uggh. What if the person wants to skip “levels”? Would there be a backlash later on?

 I’m cold. I’m hungry and my brain’s fried (as usual). Can anything be more beautiful than this?

Phoenix’s lament for Andromeda

The despair was so deep in her eyes.

Her anguish and unanswered questions. Innocent questions of why, why her? And behind all of the pain, a very very faint glimmer of hope — the faith she holds on to in the midst of everything. But the glimmer is nearly gone — fading in the darkness of another ordeal she will be forced to face in the coming days. Because she is being put to the test again. And even her friend cannot comfort her at that hour of grief. Her friend lacked the skills to soothe with words and actions, the deep welling of affection and assurance would be incongruous in their mutual  distance. A friendship not born out of showy affections but from the calm and steady presence during those hours of need.

Her friend despairs for her. Another trial, another test of her courage. Her friend could only pray that she could make it.

The long day

Been spending my spare time making lists of things I have to do during my spare time.

So much to do and it seems that this week is taking too long to end.

I have already made blunders with the dates this week.

Blunder #1: I really, really thought it was already Saturday. Norie must be confused if he received my hurried text message this noontime asking him and Tate and Joei to cancel their plans tomorrow afternoon because we are going somewhere “fun”. Norie should know I’m at work from 2 pm to 10 tomorrow. I had to rectify the error but I left my phone at home. And I know these people, they are stickler to schedules and might have ill feelings if I just say, “Oops, change of plans. Sorry.” Nobody’d be pleased.

Blunder #2: I nearly wore to work the pair of jeans and t-shirt I had set out Wednesday evening because I thought the following day was already “dress-down-day”, which in the office happened to be on Fridays and Saturdays. It would have cost me a memo.

 Blunder #3: My ma is facilitating a workshop on Women and Leadership out of Manila. She informed me that it closes on Thursday when the delegates will go home to their countries. So, early Wednesday morning, which I thought was already Thursday, I sent her an SMS: “Hello ma, how did the workshop go? Bet ur tired. Please rest and take it easy 2day. Luv u.”

Okay, so my ma replied: “Hello ‘nak. Workshop will end tomorrow. Am here preparing for some morning activities. Have fun today. I love u.”

Talk about feeling sheepish.

It is a looong day, too. And a very hot one at that. Summer is already here and we’re not even out of January yet.

I won’t do overtime this Sunday. I really need a breather.

Musing aloud

I wonder how Lurchie’s faring. She nearly met an accident on her way to work this morning. “Nearly” because she got away with a bruise. It could have been worse. Yet am thankful for angels. They never fail.

Hope Lurchie’s placed a cold compress on her leg.

Vestiges

Vestiges of images from an Indonesian morning…

September 2006

I wake up. Don’t know what made me open my eyes. I am in an unfamiliar room. An airconditioner was humming and the air was crisp about me. The soft covers were not mine. Nor is the bed, so big I had no problem lying this way and that. Neither my feet nor my head reached the edge of the mattress.

For a moment, a wave of panic welled up. However, the sight of my hand-carry luggage quickly assuaged my fear. I had flown over to Medan last evening to take care of some family business. I’m in a hotel room now. In Dharma Deli Hotel.

The sky outside my window was iron-grey — brought to me by the city smog. And anyway, it was still early dawn. I saw lights twinkling from windows of the hotel’s neighboring buildings.

Then a low sound permeated the stillness. A comforting sound I haven’t heard for many years. It is a crier, calling the faithful Moslems to pray. I scanned the clusters of buildings I could see through my window and I was not disappointed. I glimpsed the a cresent rising above a dome-shaped roof. A mosque. And somewhere there, the crier was calling, calling his brethren to pray.

I am not a Moslem. But there was something about the crier’s chants that twinged at my heart. I knelt down and prayed to my God. I felt that Divinity was close by.

For three mornings, I woke up to the crier’s chant and knelt. For three days, I felt at peace. 

Day’s done

It is af if a cloud has formed underneath me and has carried my tired, aching carcass and gave me a reprieve against all the bruisings I’ve had over the past weeks.

 I’m a bit surprised, because when I decided to see only the good in each day that comes, there is indeed little to complain about. A lot of stuff have suddenly sprung out from the woodwork, calling my attention to the wonders of creation, to the beauty of life.

It may not be bad, it’s like I am cruising through each day. Despite the seeming agitating and worrying situation all around, there’s something that is at peace within. Sublimeness I’ve never felt for a long time. I heeded some little voice and have posted the Desiderata here. For whatever it’s worth.

There’s so much work to do yet I still feel I can go on.

On a personal side, I still have to:

1. pay bills (utilities, bike registration, license renewal)

2. finish my research for a graduating student’s thesis (before mid-February)

3. send dogs over to vet for vaccines

4. write letters to

   a. Tox

   b. T. Bing

   c. La Jo

5. answer e-mails

6. organize house: kitchen, rooms, library

7. buy bleach and detergent 

8. see if I could enrol for summer term in university

9. Kayo’s story!!!

10. (open)

For work, I still need to:

1. Reach a peak speed

2. Improve output

3. Minimize absences and tardiness (tough job)

So, that’s a lot. A day at a time, a steady trickle will do the trick.

…I wonder where this sublime feeling came from… the tea I’ve been drinking, maybe.

addled soup

20 January 2007

The drizzles have already quit their tiptap outside the window. It had rained a little bit before dusk. I looked out and was overjoyed to see a water-color sunset. Rich tones of magenta and purple and pink and blue and cream splashed across the piece of sky I could see out of my glass enclosure.

Glad Tsar’s back although she still looked quite run over after staying up several nights in a row looking over her son who’s in the hospital because of some stomach bug. Poor kid. And Tsar is near frustration as the doctors can’t seem to correctly identify what my friend’s son’s got in his tummy. Despite her worries, Tsar has to come to work lest she loses her job. (a bit of gripe: There isn’t someone who’s good in this country anymore. All fine minds have flown overseas and we are left with rotten ones to take charge of our health. I don’t trust doctors that much anymore.)

Have finished an e-book sent over by Lurchie, who received it from Olive who received it from ???. (friend of a friend of a friend…) It’s “The Undomestic Goddess”. Chic lit, yeah. But it’s more fun than all the surfactant-genomes-international policies on trout fishing-rat DNA-neuropsychology porridge I subsist on at least eight hours a day (if I am not tardy) six days of the week (if i do not do OT on sundays).

Back to the e-book. I did like the story. Yet, this Sophie woman made a small sting on my Filipino pride, though. It’s probably unconscious on her part when she had chosen Trish and Eddie’s former househelp to be from the Philippines. But, ah well, can’t really complain and pretend to be from a nation of noble blood and royalty.

But I did smile as I read through the entire thing because like me, Samantha (main character) ended up with “the gardener”. The ending really bouyed me. Aieeee. Am still floating slightly. Starry eyed and happy with the world (others may have wondered where my angst went — it’s just in the backburner, being kept warm).

An aside, Tata is nearly finished with our driveway landscaping. Has installed another pond just right by the gate’s entrance. We might have the house blessing in the summer. Hyacinth’s posed a challenge for him to have made a sweeping walkway towards the “pagoda” the next time she comes for a visit. You might just get your
wish, Hyacinth!

The sky’s just turned dark purple. My break’s over. Am off slogging again.

Stuff I owe Lurchie…

5 things a lot of people might not know about me

1.I cry over stories of self-discovery

2.I had myringotomy and tonsilectomy when i was little

3.I observe other passengers when I commute and think up stories about their backgrounds, depending on their appearance

4.Before college, I once wrote to enrol in an overseas journalism school but that plan didn’t push thru. yet until now am still receiving enrolment application forms for every semester of their school year

5.I don’t like brand-name dropping when it comes to clothes. Bags, yes, it’s ok, but
not clothes.

10 things I would never do

oh my, i’m not really good at speaking with finality. so maybe, i could just twist the criteria a bit for the first five entries…

10 things I would never do…again

1.play strip poker in a friend’s house. i did this once and i don’t want to relive the experience of fielding uncomfortable questions from a friend’s parents again.

2.prolong my anger. i did this and regretted everything after because the one i was angry with was very dear to me and i carried this grouchy vibe for some time until it was too late to make ammends because the person had died.

3.kiss a random guy. err? i guess i didn’t know how to spell ‘trouble’ then.

4.make insinuations about some dead president’s body as just some wax sculpture. i did this in vigan and nearly got myself lynched.

5.splurge on nonsensical stuff i still can’t explain the multitudes of measuring cups scattered all over the house. i don’t even know how to bake

Okay, so, here are some stuff I think would never do in this lifetime

6.give up my writing and sketching. would this qualify as two things? i can go without sleep but not without writing or drawing something.

7.use my powers for evil. harharhar

8.abuse my friend’s trust there’s a few of them and i don’t wanna lose any

9.stop learning something new how staid is that?!

10.ignore the feelings of my family in making big decisions my family comes first.

(I’ll tag some people later)