Marooned

They say when you’re down and out, go to that place where you were once trampled and try to spit at its face screaming “Look where I am now!” Just to feel good about yourself.

And damn right, it works. In a reverse psychology kind of way. Some people conjure happy thoughts to keep the depression at bay. I think of the previous dismal points in my life (and there is an entire gold mine) to convince myself that I am in a better place now. No matter what I am going through. Life is unfair that way. It can get harder as it gets better.

I am having this horrid week and by some twist of irony, I found myself in this redeeming situation. Unknowingly. I was driving around on official business and mulling about what I would like to call occupational hazards. And I soon realized I am in a very familiar territory. Not that I have not returned here since I left. It’s just that everything is relative to the emotions you are feeling.



I don’t know if it was the heat which reminded of those punishing summers of not so long ago. But under the entangled embrace of the trees that lined the oval, the memories came rushing back.

And what is a cinematic moment without a musical score. My iPod that was playing on shuffle suddenly coughed out MJ’s song Childhood. Have you seen my childhood? I chuckled.

I see the familiar sporting a different look. Same old brand new things. I realize that things may change physically but their epitomes are immortal. Like the street names now boast of a different color but to me it’s the same old street. The streets where this journey began.

I saw the same queue on jeepney stops where I wasted countless hours scrambling for a ride home. There are the same anxious and constipated faces hurrying to destinations unknown or sitting lost in thought on the building steps. Students who look older than they are, burdened by the sins of their past and the uncertainty of their future. Some years ago I was one of these people. I want to tell them now that they have every right to be distraught. Being there is just a ticket. A deceitful ticket. It gets you IN but it doesn’t get you THERE. You’ll know what I am saying the moment you step out of the cocoon of those halls. Cue in Ryan Seacrest saying “Welcome to the real world, baby!”

I saw the old tambayan where I learned about love and adult life and everything in between. Lunch conversations over sticks of barbeque infested by the occasional falling caterpillars. Vacant hours spent shuffling a deck of cards and flinging coins. The logbook that whispers pages of secrets and confessions. The politics and the juvenile drama.

And then there was the building where I spent my last years. I remembere it as grey and cold (though it is now painted); a showcase of luxury and apathy. Very representative of the people who thrives in there. This building is my downfall and my salvation. My first real taste of bitter reality. Outside looking in. It took me a lifetime to erase its tang from my mouth. This is where I developed my shell of indifference and my talent for self-dependency.

Now comes the church where I made a wager with God himself. He kept half of His promise, and I kept the half of mine. But by then I was already broken beyond repair. I already morphed into a cynic. Like REM, I lost my religion. Which is really different from losing your faith. Faith is belief, religion is rules.

The memories are getting heady but I am starting to feel a sense of fulfilment. Somehow going back to where my real journey started made me realize how far I’ve come. It may not be that far for some people but in my personal yardstick, it is. Somehow hitting rock bottom makes you appreciate the bouncing back, regardless whether it comes in pulsing increments. This rewarding feeling is forever lost to people who have been so used to being in the stratosphere.

I hurriedly did my official business there. And left. That day, looking back became my calming salve. It is a lesson in humility and a recharging of my pride.

Driving out, my iPod shuffled out R. Kelly’s Fly Like An Eagle. Ok, Mr. Musical Scorer...I think you got the wrong song. No offense but I’m not THAT blue.

Flying Without Things (Excess Baggage Not Allowed)

Once in a long while, a movie comes poised to slap you in the face and pat your back at the same time. Up In The Air is that kind of movie. It patronizes and mocks the person that you are. A satire where no one is laughing because while it was fun, it was almost cruel in its intense honesty.



Up In The Air is a cosmopolitan dramedy that humanizes the antiseptic lifestyle of a modern alpha male (modern existential man, to be exact). A man who looks at himself and finds his value in VIP cards and frequent-flyer miles. Ryan Bingham (George Clooney) is a professional Shiva. He is in the business of firing people, sugar-coating job termination as an opportunity to chase your other dreams. He lives a high life that is spent mostly in-transit and doing the dirty work that corporations have no balls to do themselves. He is deeply in love with his job and its platinum-card privileges. He seldom comes home; and home to him means priority airport lounges and humdrum hotel rooms. A self confessed cynic, he has isolated himself from his family, from relationships and people in general. Hmmm.

Enter two women who will shake Ryan's clockwork world. Alex (Vera Farmiga), the female version of himself who engages Ryan in a casual relationship which will soon turn into his sweetest disappointment. And Natalie (Anna Kendrick a.k.a. Twilight’s Jessica), an ambitious newcomer who has a brilliant idea of using the internet to sack people professionally. She makes Ryan squirm in insecurity and she questions his philosophy in a bid to make him see the other side of being human. Alex is the Ryan now, Natalie is Ryan from 10 years ago. Alex is the karma, Natalie is the conscience.

Take out the hot girls and Ryan will look like someone I know. As a friend who knows me so well has pointed out, this is the Hollywood adaptation of my life. In a crude kind of way. My life, my rules, my philosophy. Yes, my backpack.

All the telltale signs are there. Single man who enjoys a thriving career and non-existent “life.” A lifestyle made by choice, mind you. I almost smiled at Ryan’s radical philosophy: What’s in your backpack? He preaches that relationships with people and things tie you down and if you rid yourself of those you are free...well, up in the air.

In Ryan’s wise words, I am travelling light; I am living a life that is divested of relationships and all other things. My life is ruled by my job and I am deliberately alone most of the time. And guess what...I am not complaining. This is the life I have wanted and designed for myself. This is the life I am used to. My rhyme and reason. I know most people don’t understand it. But if being boring and two-dimensional meant that life will be less complicated, then I am in this boat alone. No frills, no fireworks. Simplicity is the spice of my life.

I often wondered at what point did I exactly de-sensitized my existence. I really can’t tell. I think it was the sum of all fears, doubts, disappointment and letdowns. Over the years, I have tried different versions of myself. And lately I have settled for what is most comfortable; the path of least resistance. I play the run-of-the-mill guy who exudes cool awesomeness under pressure but with a suppressed caustic side. Hard candy with a surprise center.

The movie ended with a sharp sting, perhaps the most sophisticated and heartbreaking ending in silverscreen history. Like most great movies, it leaves more questions than answers.

Yes, I have anticipated that kind of ending to my story. I’ll confess that there are times when I feel empty and hollow. Pointless even. But I prefer this to being caught up in a tangle of emotions and I see attachment as a double-edged sword. I’ll admit that sometimes paranoia creeps in. What if I die alone in my rented house and it will take days before anyone realizes I’m gone? What if people will stare at my sarcophagus and realize that they know me but never really KNOW me.

How about some self pity...what happens during those winning moments? Will I be like Ryan and celebrate the realization of my platinum dreams with a total stranger? But then I realize that if I am man enough to own this lifestyle, then I’m also man enough to face the consequences.

I’ve also asked myself if I am master or if I am slave. In my search for stability, maybe I have trapped myself within a mechanical routine. That in trying to avoid the high and lows, I ended up running in circles. And I like it that way.

Under its high gloss production (it's a Clooney vehicle for crying out out), Up In The Air is actually brutal and hard hitting in its emotional truth; an entertaining depiction of modern socio-economics. In more ways than one, I find this movie deeply comforting if not a little disturbing. I always thought that I was fighting a battle of my own. That all the previous events in my life have conspired to bring me to this point. Little did I know that I am only one of many. I was churned out of a cookie cutter after all.

The next time someone asks me why I am devoted to a life of lucrative solitude, I’ll just smile and say: I’m up in the air.

Pop Goes My Saturday

The god of time management smiled at me today.

If you have a schedule as toxic as mine, then lazy Saturdays come as unexpected surprises. It belongs to the same wishlist as at least 6 hours of sleep and vacations without official phone calls. Even if I vowed to work my arse off from Monday to Friday to free-up my weekends, my weekend to-do list is simply inexhaustible.



A lazy weekend for me would mean no work and no chore. Just time to do the things I love: sleep, read, blog, tweet, sleep, listen to music, watch TV or a movie, sleep, and a fitness activity here and there. No official emails, no preparing for Monday meeting or business review, no organizing of accumulated paperwork.

If there is one thing I learned about time management, it’s that you have to MAKE time. That “I have no time” should not be an excuse.

Since I will be somewhere far on Monday-Tuesday, I persevered to finish most of my work stuff last Friday. Even if it meant staying at the office until 10PM.

And the unexpected reward is I have this Saturday on cruise control. Woot-hoo!

So I slept till the bed was too hot for my own good (no dirty thoughts please...the bed is facing east). Then I finished my household chores before 10AM. I perused a couple of chapters of the book and I have been reading (still Carlos Ruiz Zafon); dozing off every now and then.

I was enroute to Bulacan by 2PM. Cue in backtrack music from Mellow 947’s Decade playlist. I used to cringe when my parents listen to 60’s/70’s music during weekends. Now I look forward to weekends when I can again hear the music of my teenage years gone by. Even if I have them on my iPod anyway.

After lunch I dozed off again while watching TV. I woke up and resumed channel surfing, eventually settling for TMZ, American Idol and snippets of Glee. Yes, I need my fill of pop culture.

It’s during lazy times like this when I get to listen to myself and discover certain things:

1) That when I have time in my hands, my neat freak self rears its organized head. I pay homage to my OC genes. I don’t stop until my room is spic and span. And my weekend bags packed and re-packed to perfection.

2) Which goes to show why I like watching home improvement shows and reading home improvement magazines. If I am not in Marketing, I would have made a career as a home improvement consultant. But only the organizing part. I’m not that creative for interior design.

3) That I am still fascinated with reality shows. I just watched Bill and Juliana’s reality show on Lifestyle. I know Bill as the first The Apprentice winner. How a smart guy like him can marry a so-so hottie stirs my interest. As a fan of reality show, I would know if some scenes are scripted. And their show is 70% scripted!

4) That I have become an American Idol fanatic. I caught the re-run of the boy’s Top 10 performances and this early I am predicting that the 2010 American Idol will again be a boy. So far, I like Lee, Aaron, Tim and Alex. Aaron reminds me of David Archuleta; Lee might be the next Chris Daughtry.

5) That I have placed TMZ’s Harvey is some sort of pedestal. Don’t be surprised if I will soon sport a red tumbler with straw. And start spewing (the usual) sarcasticisms (yes, I just invented this word).

Sleep. Check. Read. Check. Blog. Check. TV. Check. Tweet. Check.

Hopefully I can still catch a movie. I am planning to watch an Oscar contender this weekend (still choosing between Precious and The Blind Side). I’m not too excited about the Oscars on Monday as I haven’t seen most of the films (yes, even Avatar). But for sheer beauty of its title and because I usually root for the underdogs, I am rooting for The Hurt Locker.

Excuse me while I prep the DVD and get some snacks. My Saturday night is just starting.

Tomorrow is another story. I have to work. Oh, sick cycle carousel!

On A Geo-Physical High

Note: Pardon the delay; I wrote this blog a few hours after the Chile quake hit. But it is only now that I had time to post it.

I am on a natural and geo-physical high. I know this sounds inappropriate considering the alarming turn of events of the past few hours: the 8.8 magnitude Chile quake and the Pacific-wide tsunami alert.



And yes, I know this sounds a little too geeky. But geology is one of my first loves, even pre-dating my love for the written words.

Blame it on this one summer vacation we spent at the grandparent’s residence. The only book I saw was a hard-bound Science textbook. I think it was part of a grade-school encyclopaedia, the kind given by the US Salvation Army to further our Western education. Anyway, for lack of anything entertaining to do, I perused the said book. It was a volume on the Earth and its physical properties. Ergo, the birth of my fascination with Geology. I remember thinking why it was called Earth when it was plainly Water (considering that it was ¾ water!). You can tell my sarcastic genes are fully developed even as a child.

Then in college, as I was pursuing my ill-fated first degree, I took Geology as a Science elective. And what do you know, my grade is Geology was way better than my major subjects. And I impressed the teacher since Day One. During our first class, she asked what the different kinds of rocks are and their differences. Of course, I did not raise my hand (I am not a fan of recitations). No one dared to answer. So she drew a random card from the recently-submitted class cards and called out my name. I recited the answer, remembering it word-for-word from that Science text book of my childhood summer. Teacher smiled in satisfaction and remembered my name since then. I almost shifted to Geology if not for my family threatening to disinherit me if I pursued a degree that is a “hobby” rather than a “profession.”

Fast forward to today. Before going out last night, I already saw the breakings news on CNN about the Chile quake. Oh no, not this soon. A quake is still a sensitive global concern, considering that the ghost of the Haiti quake is still lurking in the background. And when I got back, it was still the breaking news but now CNN is heralding the possibility of a tsunami hitting the Pacific countries, in a tone that is almost apocalyptic. Who can forget the tsunami that raced across the Indian Ocean a day after Christmas 2004 (following a magnitude 9 quake in Indonesia)? An unspeakable number of people died in countries as far as half the world away (in Africa).

That tsunami was an eye-opener and painful lesson. Now I am amazed at how sophisticated the tsunami warning system has become. They can even predict the probable time and the path it will take. Of course, it’s not an exact science but a little paranoia is better than a repeat of the Banda Aceh tragedy. These days, they had a lot of reference data, saying that a similar quake (one of the strongest in history) happened in the 1960’s and spun tsunamis as far as Australia and the Philippines.



I just don’t know how the local government will react should the Pacific Warning System declare that a tsunami hit is imminent. Frankly, after Ondoy, I lost faith in the system. In a third-world kind of irony, media has become more reliable than government and Kris Aquino can unite us better than the president.

As of press time, smaller-than-expected tsunamis have struck the smaller Pacific islands but damage was thankfully conservative. The tsunami warning has been lifted in most of the territories including Eastern Philippines.

A few minutes ago, I was sitting in my parked car while waiting for my Mom. Engine was turned off and to kill time I was deleting some messages on my phone. Then I felt the earth heave. I was gripped by fascinating terror. I checked to see if a big truck has passed which might have caused the movement. None. The slight tremor continued for a few seconds. If I had some animals near me, I could have confirmed from their sound and expression if there was actually a quake.

I remembered a similar incident in high school. It was wee hours of the morning and I was finishing my Drafting plate. I was enveloped by the usual sounds of night time: crickets, occasional barking dogs and the rickety sounds of a house settling. Suddenly everything was silent; like I was abruptly immersed in a vacuum. Uh-Oh...tell-tale signs! True enough the ground started to shake. I felt it and saw it because the technical pen I was holding went crazy, as if mimicking a seismograph; almost ruining my precious drawing.

I don’t know if I am just paranoid or a slight quake really hit today at around 10AM. But still I am amazed by it all. Ah, the power of nature. In some way, it puts things in perspective. To realize we are just an insignificant piece in this jigsaw puzzle called the Earth.

***

P.S. Just some comic relief: Every time I would type the word quake on this blog, I would end up typing quaker. You know, the famous oatmeal brand. Which goes to show what I have been used to these days. I’m so NOT a geographer.

Update: No quake happened that Sunday. It was just my paranoia trying to shake my boots.

Gunning Down Valentines

In a week’s time the world will be enveloped in a scarlet shroud, like ribbons of blood tangling with water. It’s the feast day for die-hard romantics and hard-core sappies.

Is it any coincidence that the color of love is also the color of blood and pain?



In writing this I know I will be accused of being a sourgrape or even bitter. Whatever. In my humble opinion, Valentines is a terrible marketing ploy, an occasion orchestrated by Hallmark, et al. It’s like Christmas but sprinkled with saccharine charm and cheese. Honestly, do you need a special day to confess the depths and potency of your love? With all due respect to “thoughtful” people, I never believed in grandiose displays of affection. Roses and chocolates are absurdly theatrical and there’s something phony, insincere and scheming about them. I’m an advocate of the little constant things. Let me put it this way. No Ferrero Rocher but I will always have a Choc Nut handy whenever she needs one.

But anyway, what do I know about that crazy thing called love? Love and religion are my two most favorite arguments. And so I remember the metaphor made famous by the pa-autograph moments of my grade school days: Love is like a rosary full of mysteries. Come to think of it, it makes sense. Joyful, sorrowful and devious. Amen.

Being single and alone is no longer a stigma. Still, I wish those who give single people a funny look will realize that relationships are acquired taste; they are not for everyone. For me, the feeling they call love is overrated. I’ve confessed that I am a love atheist. I like sarcastic FU songs (the likes of Trains's Drops Of Jupiter and Lifehouse's Sick Cycle Carousel) and I have a playlist on my iPod called P.S. I Hate Love for such songs. Like that 3HO!3 song, L...O...V...E is just another word I’ll never learn to pronounce. It’s a concept I cannot grasp, like the laws of physics. It’s a journey I just don’t have the map for.



Who can blame me for being cynical? Life did not show me enough reasons to believe that relationships are worth it. Fact: My parents did not exactly have a happy marriage. Fact: I spent half my college life playing counsellor to my squabbling mag-ON friends. Even now, I’ve been privy to the intrigues and scandals of my married friends and they run to me for advice and confessions (And not once have I asked: Why me? What do I know about this stuff?). Fact: One of my best friends is happily divorced with only her great kids as proud reminders of what used to be. True story: One Tita is currently in distress because her only son just fell in love with the neighbour’s help. See what I mean?

Fact: In the handful of times that I tried to take a plunge, something else in my life goes wrong or I am placed in a compromising and impossible situation. Like life telling me that I can’t have my cake and eat it too.

Oh and did I mention the pain? That if I want to relive it I will just watch One More Chance over and over again.

I rest my case. We live in a world where the Ted Mosbys play second fiddle and the Barney Stinsons get all the action. After all (as quoted from 500 Days of Summer), women prefer men with Brad Pitt’s face and Jesus’ abs. And we have Cosmo magazine to blame. I refuse to take part in that blah nonsense.



Sometimes it bothers me that I like doing things alone. I am happy with my status quo. I live alone and I love the peace and quiet of solitude. I can go on self-dates; walking around the mall by myself or jogging alone. I don’t like eating out so I’ll never be placed in the awkward situation where I am alone and a loser in a fancy restaurant. I don’t need to be with someone to enjoy coffee, a book or movie. And if I want to be around people, I have my family and very select circle of friends. I never felt the sense of needing someone in my life or having this void I need to fill. Yes, you can say I feel complete.

I am living my life and that’s all that matters. How can you measure the promise of love when it’s weighing against a chance that comes only once?

Friends have called me commitment phobic, like most guys. I’m not confirming nor denying. It’s just that I have too much on my plate right now and I see relationship as a dessert. Something for later. Or something I can skip altogether but I’ll still feel full and satisfied.

I know what people will say. That I have NOT met the right person. But maybe I’m too stubborn that even Destiny has given up on me. Then again, destiny and ever-after be damned. Say what you want. I’d rather be ALONE than UNHAPPY. If you know what I mean.

If it’s your thing, happy Valentines to you!



***

So tell me isn’t happiness
Worth more than a gold diamond ring?
I’m willing to do anything
To calm the storm in my heart
Not looking for a miracle
Just a reason to believe

KThxBye, 2009...Hello, 2010!

Where does time go? A few breaths ago, we were closing the decade and shooing 2009 away. Now we are already a fifth into 2010 and Christmas/New Year was a thing of the past.

Before I say anything more, HAPPY NEW YEAR to everyone! May the dawn of the new decade bring us closer to the brighter future we all long for, be it in our personal lives or as a country.



While many people think that the new year marks a fresh start, a new beginning; I’d like to think of it as a MOVING ON. Especially after our experiences in 2009, an annus horribilis for most people.

It was the year of challenges and triumphs for our country. While we seem to be afloat amidst the global economic crunch, we were hit by the storm of the century. Storms, to be exact. The scenes from Ondoy and Pepeng are forever seared in our memory. And amidst the horrorscapes of devastation, there are the proverbial rainbows after the rain. The spirit of bayanihan is in the DNA of every Filipino. We CARE, and that is half the battle won already. I still remember the girl who had a cast on her right shoulder but was helping us pack relief goods. With only her left hand. We need everyday heroes like her.

We celebrated the people who made us proud to be Filipinos. The death of democracy icon Cory Aquino revived the nationalism and it is a miracle that even in death, Cory showed us the way. Manny Pacquaio, Brillante Mendoza and Efren Penaflorida erased the global fallacy that we are a country of domestic helpers. But a few hours after CNN toasted Efren as their Hero of the Year, the Maguindanao massacre hugged the CNN headlines and shocked the world. Ergo, Ampatuan became our Villain of the Year.

On a personal level, I think I did well in 2009. I will even go as far as saying that this is one of my best years ever. It felt like after running in the shadows for so long, I suddenly burst into my own pocket of sunshine. I am usually wax nostalgic as the year comes to a close. At the end of 2009, I did not feel a twinge of regret or remorse that that I wasted the year. I did my part in 2009! I felt happily invincible that even the ghosts of the past failed to haunt me.

To start the new year and new decade right, I got obsessed in organizing my life. It started with the makeover of our house. Seeing everything spic and span and seemingly new is a natural high for OCs like me.

A new year also means new journals for me. And I have two journals. The green one is for tracking my finances (weekly budgets, credit card purchases) and personal stuff (date for changing contact lens, wardrobe plan, wish lists, reminders, etc.)



The second one is for jotting my thoughts which will soon find its way into my blog. Or for writing inspiring passages (even inspiring tweets)I come across. Thanks to C for giving me that leather cover! It makes me feel like a legit writer.

For this blog, I plan to do a little makeover. Of course there will be my usual musings and rants. But I might veer away from the entertainment blogs (music, movies). In my own little way, I want to promote positive change. Hence, I will be sharing tidbits which can improve lives, change perspectives and promote well being and empowerment. Nothing political or preachy, but definitely something close to our hearts. Wink, wink.

Placing yourself in the right moment puts you in the best position for BETTER moments. While I will miss 2009, I’d like to think that better things are in store for 2010.

I will make 2010 count! So can you.

Now That's What I Call Christmas!

I am a Christmas-phile; I never lost that child-like amazement at the magic of Christmas. At this age, Christmas still leaves me breathless and ecstatic (like the song goes...if every day could be Christmas). Forget the toxic holiday rush, the stress of buying gifts and the financial implication. It’s the time of the year when I actually forget the perils of my 9-5 job and prioritize my family, my friends and all the things I love doing.

This 2009, Christmas was again a blur of food, festivities and 10-shot family photos. Though the season is far from over, here are 10 things I enjoyed doing or will (still) do this Christmas break.

(1) Christmas Carols. Do you hear what I hear? As early as November, I start listening to my Christmas playlist/CDs just to get in the holiday mood. Mock my “dirty pop” choice but I dig the Christmas albums of Mariah Carey (Merry Christmas), NSync (Home For Christmas) and 98 Degrees (This Christmas). Would you believe that I listen to Christmas songs on my iPod any time of the year, especially when I start to feel depressed. All the one-horse-open-sleigh and chestnuts-roasting-on-an-open-fire never fails to pick me up.



(2) Shopping. For gifts, of course... to fulfil my holiday obligations. But somehow, I also end up buying gifts for myself (heck, I deserve it). My usual destinations are Shangri-La Mall, Duty Free, Trinoma and despite my reluctance to patronize their malls, SM Megamall/Podium. This year the Marquee Mall in Angeles opened and quickly became one of my favourites (free parking, nice mix of stores). I tend to visit the malls with lower foot traffic and I come during off-peak hours. But then again, every hour is peak hour about a week before Christmas. My favorite shops are Make Room/Handyman (for useful home stuff), Hobbes and Landes (for kid’s stuff), Rustan’s (for my sashyal friends) and Powerbooks (for booklover friends). Sorry but during this time, you cannot drag me to Greenhills or Divisoria where all the gift items are cheap but you could barely seen them because they are covered with humans.



(3) Gift-giving. As a champion of the marshmallow test, I have enough EQ to resist opening all my gifts until the strike of midnight on Christmas day. I love receiving gifts I can use (even socks, a hankies or Post-Its). Pardon my worldliness but since we are talking about gifts, this year has been the best harvest of gifts. I can practically use everything! Thanks to all the people who complained that they find it difficult to buy me a gift but did a great job anyway!



(4) Reunions. Even if I get to be grilled about my relationship status (single but happy, thank you for asking), I look forward to Christmas day when our whole clan gathers at the ancestral house and celebrate. Great food… videokefest…bingo games. This year, we added two games that rocked the house: Hep Hep Hooray and Pinoy Henyo. I realized I sucked at the first one. Meanwhile, the fastest Pinoy Henyo record was 18 seconds, set by the tandem of my cousin Patrick and brother Louie. Here’s how their exchange went:

Tao ba? Oo!
Sikat ba? Oo!
Artista ba? Oo!
Channel 2 ba? Oo!
Nakikita ba sa teleserye? Oo!
Nasa May Bukas Pa ba? Oo!
SANTINO!!!

Their other quick exchange went like this:

Tao ba? Oo!
Sikat ba? Hindi!
Ordinaryong tao ba? Oo!
Nandito ba? Pwede!
Patay na ba? Oo!
AMA ONIONG!!! (our deceased Lolo)

For friends, December 30 has always been reserved for my long time (meaning grade school) peer group. We have a lot of catching up to do, especially this year when we didn’t see each other during our birthdays because of family emergencies. I wish we can have the same regular reunion sked for my high school barkada and college orgmates.

(5) Home Makeover. OC side up! My Mom established this routine of general cleaning of the house days before Christmas. While this is primarily to tidy up the house for holiday visitors, admittedly this is the only time of the year when our schedules allow us to organize the clutter we manage to collect all-year long. This year, I finished the makeover of our living room, kitchen, dining room and toilet/bath before Christmas. And before we welcome the new year, I would have gone through the rest of the house (bedrooms and garage/porch).



For my other home (the office), I organize my office table (which screams busy and toxic) during the last work day of the year. This year was extra exciting because our department transferred to a new space on the same floor.



(6) Read, (7) Watch and (8) Write. If you are a workaholic like me, it is already a luxury to do the things you love. This vacation, I caught up on my reading. However, I ditched The Time Traveler’s Wife and picked up some Christmas books instead (Finding Noel by Richard Paul Evans). When my brain starts to hurt from the imagery of the text, I shift to DVDs. I brought home some DVDs I have yet to watch. Plus, there are Christmas-themed movies I watch every year (Serendipity and Love Actually). Yet on Christmas Day, I ended up watching Home Alone (for the 814th time). Lastly, I need to catch-up on my other favorite creative outlet and stress-buster: blogging. I need to stop tweeting and do some serious writing.



(9) Foodtrip. So I have been starving myself all year long. And I am also trying to get back on my all-white-meat diet. But Christmas is the perfect excuse to damn the calories and pig out. For some semblance of nutritional balance, I added more greens to the Christmas menu this year (with a recipe for salad dressing courtesy of R). But the desserts are provocatively sinful. Rich fruit salad, chocolates, cakes, rice cakes, ice cream,...you name it! I have a theory that the Selecta Gold Selection (especially Vanilla Almond) is a ploy concocted by the flailing gyms to increase membership. Or the Vicky Belos of the world to create more demands for lipos.



(10) Sleep. Like a baby. Zzzzzz.



Even if I miss my office friends, I am enjoying my time off.



Dear Santa, please slow down the time. I am excited at what the new year will bring but I am enjoying this and am not ready to go to work yet. I've been a good boy naman. Please?


(Santa Bella courtesy of YP).

Enjoy the rest of the Holidays, folks!

A Hallmark Christmas SMS

SMS killed the Hallmark greeting card. Since the advent of texting, it’s been part of the Christmas tradition to send a text greeting to friends and loved ones as early as Christmas Eve (which explains why the networks are clogged beginning 5pm of the 24th). Empirical evidence shows that more than 200 million messages will be sent within these hours (that’s 20 million people or a quarter of our population multiplied by average 10 SMS per person).



Yes, I fall victim to this tradition. But as a self-proclaimed disciple of arts and letters, I never send forwarded SMS. I just “borrow” some lines and give it my own twist. Which makes it some kind of original and a little more thoughtful.

Last Christmas my message goes: "As we celebrate the season, let us remember to celebrate THE REASON. A wonderful Christmas filled with peace, laughs, love and blessings to you and your family."

This was inspired by a tweet sent by an ANC news anchor (initials: TM).

The funny thing is that my message gets resent and recycled. Yeah, like a stubborn chain letter. I get it back at least five times; which means a friend forwarded it to other people...including myself or to another friend who sent it back to me.

And that’s just fine with me. Consider it my share in spreading the holiday spirit.

I hope everyone’s enjoying the holidays!

Nightmares and Visions Before Christmas

I know it’s been a tad too quiet in here lately. Too quiet perhaps. I have been blogless for nearly a month now and the reality of this hit me when a friend sent this franctic YM: Are you OK? I haven’t seen any blog updates from you.

I didn’t realize my breath is measured by the number of blogs I write. Sweet! In blogosphere or in the greater “online” world...if you disappear, it means that you actually HAD A LIFE.

Ha ha..who am I kidding? Nobody will believe me if I say I took a 3-week leave and spent some time off in Tijuana. My very active Twitter account would have been a dead giveaway (my Twittername is Barnieboi to those who are still asking).

Let me bask in this moment. I can’t believe I am actually sitting infront of my laptop and writing (as opposed to working). My schedule has been really crazy so I was surprised when my normal routine came back today. By normal, I mean sleeping before midnight and waking up by 5AM to blog or enjoy a lazy morning before work.

So where have I been? I have actually been vacillating between WORK (what did you expect?), SICKBED and SANTA. Since my birthday, a lot has been going on in Barnie-land that I don’t even have time to just sit still.

WORK. ‘Tis the season when the air gets nippy and we start rolling out the blueprints for next year. In three letters...it is known as AOP. Annual Operating Plan. I just finished two rounds of this gruelling and brain cell-consuming mission. Our own AOP was done in Sonya’s Garden. Just imagine we had to concoct plans and promos while being seduced by the foliage and spa-like environment. That gave me a soothing headache. Hehe. Kidding aside, this place is amazing. I wish I could back here and do nothing.









We just had a problem with the toilet and bath in our villa. It was made for couples on a honeymoon. Not for colleagues sharing a room (cringe!). See for yourself why:



While in this not-so-secret garden, I ended up eating flowers (no dirty thoughts please), craving for tarragon tea, crashing into other people’s room (coz I can’t sleep) and dancing to Jay Sean’s Down (don’t ask me how and why).

SICKBED. A few weeks back, I had to consult the MD again (second time this year). Medical tests showed that I had some severe infection in a still unconfirmed area which is causing the fever and extreme abdominal cramps. I thought it was gastritis. The doctor fear that it might be appendicitis, however the pain is different. She just gave me quick-relief medicine with instructions to go back if things worsen. And asked me to stay away from milk, soda, liquors and my liquid love (that’s coffee to the unromantic). Good thing my body reacts quickly to antibiotics so a second visit was not needed. But I still have the pains every now and then. I think stress has finally caught up with me. Note to self: I really should have a full medical check-up.

The said pain is also preventing from doing extreme physical activities (run, crunches). So I think my body fat index is on its way up even before the Christmas gluttony gets in full swing. Second note to self: get physical on Christmas break (why do I sound like I want to be a warfreak?).

SANTA. I caught the Christmas spirit early...sometime around my birthday. But it was booed away by those three letters (AOP...see above). Now I’m trying hard to get the feeling back again. I’ve started doing my Christmas shopping but I ended up buying more for myself than gifts for other people. My target is to complete my gift list this week so that my personal gift wrapper (hello, C...belated happy birthday!) can now fulfil her yearly obligation.

Speaking of gifts, I really punish myself and go out of the way to give “personal” gifts to people...or at the very least something they can use. Gone are the days when I would only have two gift options: books and CDs (though I still give these to people who loves them as much as I do..wink, wink). I already completed my gift list and I know what to give my friends...but the more herculean task is actually buying it. Like where is it best to buy an XXL shirt?

Friends have also been asking if I have a gift wish list. I’m OK with anything I can use, be it socks or a hanky. I’m practical that way.



In between Work, Sickbed and Santa, I’ve been trying to get as much sleep as I can. Not only because I am often drained, sated and spent. I happen to read this email about the head of SAP India who recently died. He was young and athletic. It turned out that he was multi-tasking too much and didn’t give his body time to rest/sleep. The parallelism is just too much that it fed my already full-blown paranoia. Yaiks!

Now back to happy thoughts! I need to go back to my Christmas list and check it twice. I might change my mind on what to give those who have been naughty.

HOHO (the Christmas version of XOXO)

Emotional Breakthrough At 31

There is no better way to say it so I’ll say it plain and simple. I HAD A HAPPY BIRTHDAY.

I am almost scared to shout this out to the universe thinking that it might steal this away from me. But no, I already have this blissful slice of time. I have immortalized this in the depths of my cortex.



For the record, I am not good at being happy. I lived my life thinking that I thrive on disappointment and misery. For people like us, happiness is a burden; it is fleeting and has the tendency to vaporize. And it comes with a heavy price. Whereas sadness is more tangible and permanent; it leaves a scar in your heart.

For my birthday, I planned something a little out of the ordinary and mid-key. Not something lavish, just something I know people will enjoy. Part of me wants to celebrate this great year. I didn’t know my family and friends caught the same virus of excitement. They have been gushing about my birthday for days and I can’t help but feel some pressure.

My birthday bash at the office went beyond expectations...I almost expected fireworks. Everything was pitch-perfect. Outside of the great food, I was really happy being around these people. Sometimes I don’t understand the logic to their kind of affection. How can they love a grouch and moron like me? Haha!

On the day after my birthday, I tried to capture the beauty of it with words. But they escaped me... I had this gaping blank page. I almost panicked at the thought that I need misery for my creative ink to flow. And it seems like misery upped and left me...for once. This is a little morbid but I told a dear friend that should the best moments of my life be replayed as I am breathing my last, this point of time will surely come up.

This mood is new to me: I am pensive but in a good way. The feeling that is engulfing me now is realization and GRATITUDE. Seeing the cake and candles, I’ve asked myself what I wish for for my birthday and surprisingly I came up with no answers. I am good.

It took me this long to find the key to being happy. No, I have not opened the floodgates of happiness. It’s just that I am ecstatic of the puddles of happiness that I unlocked. I am not HAPPY. I am just happy. And I like it that way.

I realized a lot of things this year (I had the opposite of a mid-life crisis...a mid-life renaissance?). Although my life is far from perfect, I realize I AM OK. Yes, there are still things I want (things could be better) but not having them at this point will not de-value my life. I find happiness in enjoying what I have instead of wasting time longing for what I don’t have. I even learned to find happiness in the small things. Forget renaissance, I will call this 31st year my EMOTIONAL BREAKTHROUGH.

I’m blessed to have a fulfilling job, with an added bonus of being able to work with great people. How many can lay claim to this? I have a supportive family and we are enjoying what we dreamed of and worked hard for. I live a largely comfortable life. I am able to do the things I want: blog, read, go places or just some time alone.

This year, I have this almost zen-like attitude in tackling things. I learned to handle people and manage expectations. After being given my second chance, I saw the good in most people and became more accepting. I now know who my real friends are. They are the people who understood me at my worst. The ones I wronged but never took it against me. The ones who stayed silent when they have the right to lash out and be one with the world in torturing me. The ones who offered help even before I could muster the courage to ask for it.

After life broke me countless of times, it seems like I just decided to ditch my walking-wounded drama. I learned to stop struggling and let myself go with the flow. And I wonder if age does this to a person. Have I accepted my fate and resigned myself to the ravages of the times? Whatever it is, this is better than where I was before. After running drenched for so long, I suddenly burst into my own place in the sun.

On my way home Friday night, I realize I did not look at my birthday horoscope (from The Philippine Star), which has become a birthday tradition. I thought of dropping by 7-Eleven to get a copy but then I changed my mind. What the heck. I will make my own fortune, my own future. I will not let some stupid stars foretell it for me.

Looking back at the things I went through just to be here, I will not say I deserve this. Rather, I’d say IT WAS WORTH IT.

Cheers!

***

I want to thank A LOT of people from the bottom of my newfound heart. But please allow me these special mentions:

MY FAMILY for single-handedly preparing everything. I knew the food tasted good because it was a labour of love.



MY (Extended) MARKETING FAMILY for pulling all the surprises. Makes me wanna scream and make some noise. Haha! I could not ask for anything more. How can you do such good things to a "boolei" like me?! Loved the video (Buti na lang safe...whew!)



K, B and J for helping me pull it off until the very end (which is clean-up time, hehe!). And the wonderful gift straight out of my wish list (how did you know?)!

For my “silent” friends for being as excited as I am and for making sure I enjoy every minute of it.

For The One Who Need Not Be Named, for doing everything above and beyond. Even if I’m not worthy, you still choose to overwhelm me.

FILM REVIEW: Summer Love?...NOT!

Here’s the thing. I came into this movie expecting a lot because my friends (M as the leader of the pack) have been gushing about it. For a movie that talks about something I can surely relate to, I surprised myself by being impassive about it. Maybe I’m a little too mature for this, or maybe my threshold for pain and misery was set too high and was not breached. So this a the case of IT’S ME, NOT THE MOVIE.



500 Days of Summer is a quirky and tragic romcom movie. In 500 days, it shows the whole spectrum and circus of modern day love: from “love at first sight” to “it’s over I’m moving on.” The story actually has heart as it explores that limbo that serves as the foundation of some relationships...the awkward “What are we?” stage (Oh, tell me about it!). But it deviates from the Mills & Boon template of love-found-and-love-lost stories by telling it the arthouse way.

While the plot delights and satisfies like summer breeze, this movie has a strange way of confusing itself as it bids for non-conformity. I loved the movie’s vintage color and throwback music but got confused on story’s timeframe (70’s? 80’s?). Realization only dawned when they were shown playing Wii Tennis. The morning-after dance sequence was cute and funny but it removes some tenderness to an otherwise heart-wrenching story. The non-linear way of storytelling, reminiscent of a romantic flipbook, worked well in showing us the fun times and fault lines in the Tom-Summer saga; but it ruins the way the characters are developed (more on this later). So comes its biggest letdown: for a story that is refusing to be non-traditional, it settles for a cutesy cliché ending.

The movie’s brilliant moments come when it walks the fine line between reel and real. It has the Hollywood fanfare of a romantic fantasy but remains grounded on the realities of non-destined love. The split-screen treatment of reality vis-à-vis expectations delivers the Ouch! factor. It is sick and relevant; the kind that will scrape the scars in your heart. This sequence alone saves the movie from the trash bin of forgettable romcoms.

The two lead stars are immensely likeable. Joseph Gordon-Levitt is a revelation in this movie. I only knew him from Ten Things I Hate About You and a handful of TV appearances but I didn’t know he matured into a sensitive actor. It’s a good thing they did not cast an A-List cutie (Zac Efron?) to play Tom, because Gordon-Levitt makes the story believable with his firm grasp of subtlety and emotions. His face registers the stages of love, lust, hope, pain, frustration and perplexity beneath an armour of geek-like coolness. However, I can’t shake off the fact that he looks like a starved Ryan Atwood (from The O.C.) with the tics of Seth Cohen.

Zooey Deschanel is a dead ringer for Katy Perry, down to the costume. For some reason, I couldn’t get to her Summer character...she is too much a mystery and reads like a closed book. I’m torn between Deschanel not giving much dimension to her character or the scriptwriter failing to breathe life to Summer. Maybe she was really THAT complex and I am as baffled as Tom. But this may also be taken as part of the movie’s appeal.



Having said that, the movie failed to establish the characters outside of their exclusive and precarious relationship. Maybe that’s why I didn’t care that much about their dilemmas. Their misery is simply infantile. It didn’t bring me to fetal position, the way tragic male-centric indie flicks like Garden State (Zach Braff, Natalie Portman) or even Dedication (Billy Crudup, Mandy Moore) did.

Maybe because after 500 days, the movie gave hope to Tom...but unfortunately not in the form of self-realization and more mature insights on love and life. Just another shot at uncertain love. I think Tom’s view on love is as trivial and sketchy as the greeting cards he write (love is a rose and you are its petals). He even gets romantic wisdom from his sister whose two cents makes me want to throw up. Like TV's Felicity, Tom stages his own love suicide and I don’t have much sympathy for lovefools of his kind, even if I know they deserve better.

For what it’s worth, 500 Days Of Summer shows us that love is random and baffling. And it proves that all things come to an end, even heartache and misery. After summer comes...hmmm...I guess you can figure this one out.



***

Summer: I woke up one morning and I just knew.
Tom: Knew what?
Summer: What I was never sure of with you.

***

Tom: You don't want to be named as someone's boyfriend, and now your someone's wife?

***

Tom: What happens when you fall in love?
Summer: You believe in that?
Tom: It's love, it's not Santa Claus.

The Heatseekers (November 4, 2009)

For music buffs, here are some songs that are worth downloading. Some of these songs are a couple of months old already but they are still on heavy circulation on my personal playlist and in the airwaves.


* Fireflies – Owl City (HOT PICK!)
* New Perspective – Panic At The Disco (PERSONAL PICK!)
* H.A.T.E.U – Mariah Carey (which stands for "Having A Typical Emotional Upset")
* Who Says – John Mayer
* Doesn’t Mean Anything – Alicia Keys
* Live Like We’re Dying – Kris Allen
* Halfway Gone - Lifehouse
* Meet Me On The Equinox – Death Cab For Cutie
* Life After You – Daughtry
* Issues – The Sundays
* Nothing – FMD
* Where Are You Now - Honor Society
* Celebration – Madonna
* Tell Me Your Name – Christian Bautista
* Man In The Mirror – James Morrison version

***

Here are two mini-reviews of albums you should check out.



WHITE LACE AND PROMISES (Agot Isidro)

I have been a silent fan of Agot since she released her first album back in my high school (casette tape) days. Ok, ok...I have a huge and long-standing crush on her. I have met her thrice in person and she is really nice. Hers is a beauty that is ageless and a relaxed and classy voice that is a welcome alternative to the ear-splitting wails of freakish local divas.

I have long wanted Ms. A to release a revival album since she really did a good job with OPM standards Sa Kanya and Iisa Pa Lamang in her previous works. For this album, she gathered a collection of her favorite wedding songs and gave it her own elegant spin. She has the modern wedding anthems: From This Momentand Runaway (given second life after being used in the Judy Ann-Ryan wedding). She even threw in some forgotten hits: Fallen (from Pretty Woman) and Together Forever (Rico Puno’s and not Rick Astley’s). Her rendition of Fallen is smooth and refreshing and her tender rendition of Looking Through The Eyes Of Love brings back the soulful meaning to the song that is often vandalized by screaming divas.

This CD also comes in a neat packaging, the best I have seen for a local release. It is made to look like a wedding invitation.

Best Track: Fallen
Skip This: When You Say Nothing At All (the song is just too overplayed)



MEMOIRS OF AN IMPERFECT ANGEL (Mariah Carey)

For the record, MC’s past two CDs (Emancipation of Mimi and E=MC2) really glittered...uhmm pun intended. In her new studio album, MC upped her vibe by fusing old school R&B and her trademark slinky urban rhythms. Think My All plus Breakdown. Here, MC tones down her high-octave vocals in exchange for breathy whispers which clearly suits the new song formats.

Memoirs is a pretty consistent album and each track flows effortlessly to the next via well-placed interludes. This makes the whole of the album pretty enjoyable. The imperfection of Memoirs lies in its lack of a smash #1 chartbuster (the likes of We Belong Together and Bye Bye). However, songs here grow on you with each listen; the third single H.A.T.E.U., for instance. Also missing are the slick/flirty pop ditties like Touch My Body. Instead, we have venomous back-at-you songs Obsessed (her latest 1M-selling single) and Betcha Gon Know, with the later adding shock value as MC says the F word. A different side to MC but still worth listening.

Best Track: Angels Cry
Skip This: Up Out My Face (even the paired interlude is kinda weird)

In The Shadow Of The New Moon

Even if Halloween just whizzed us by, the New Moon fever is very much aglow. I have barely two weeks to finish this book before the movie rolls out.

To be honest, I got into the Twilight bandwagon just to be "in" on the new pop phenomenon (part of our Marketing lifestyle). And because F pressured us. I found the book a bit juvenile...like Anne Rice rewriting Sweet Valley High with bloody ink. But this does not make the book any less enjoyable. It combines two compelling fantasies...the existence of vampires and the discovery of true love despite the odds.

The movie is different though and far from juvenile. I think it did justice to the book, which seldom happens when you bring a novel to silverscreen life. Everything seemed to be well thought of...from the casting to the cinematography. Even the OST and musical score is superb. The OST immortally resided on my player (I still can't get over that Iron & Wine track).



I’m a fifth into the book and newsflash: the new moon has casted a shadow over me. I blame it for feeling morose and aloof today. Agony is universal, no matter what the phase of the moon will be.

Excuse me while I sulk... I mean excuse me while I resume my reading.

Un-dying

Memories will never die. I realize this after my first taste of the death of a loved one. You live in suspended disbelief during the three days of the wake. You shed an ocean of tears during the internment. Then you move on with your life, however incomplete it has become. But in one unguarded moment, something stirs your memories and you remember them. It can be a song, a thing she loved...in my instance even a rock. The remembrance steals your breath; the pain sears and clutches the heart.

This year, I will be celebrating more deaths than ever. I can still remember how I learned of each death. Nothing can prepare you for it. It’s difficult to forget the point where your life took an abrupt turn. The memories are sharp, like broken shards of glass. Yes, the pain of loss does fade in time, but it is the kind that will never truly go away.



I have always been sensitive about the death of a loved one, even before I had my firsthand experience. I remember when A’s dad died in sixth grade. I thought it was cruel; how can a good-hearted girl be given such unkind fate. When she returned to school, I don’t know what to say to her. I don’t want to ask if she was OK. That is probably one of the most inconsiderate questions ever invented. How can you ask someone who just lost her dad if she was okay? Of course she is not! So I think I just smiled, hoping that will convey my sympathy. But I decided it was too uncaring so I asked her what happened. In the process, I ended up making her cry as she recollected her dad’s last hours.

Three years later, I was at the other end of that table.

There have been good days, in as much as there have been darker days. Now that I am in a much better place in life, I wish my departed loved ones could see what I have become. A lesser disappointment. I longed for their pat on my shoulders after surviving each fall. Especially my Lola. She always championed what I am and what I want; accepting my flaws and applauding my smallest feats. At the lowest point in my life, she was one of the handful who did not look at me with disillusionment and odium. When she passed on, I felt so alone for the first time in my life. From then on I started living in shadows. I learned to be autonomous...to deaden and detach myself. Depend on myself.

When my dad died, my life rebooted. It forced me to let go and come to terms with a lot of things.

Sometimes I wonder if I am the person I was supposed to be. If this is the life I was meant to live. Or is this some kind of half-life, a metamorphosis engineered by loss and expectations and reinforced by the will to survive.

I realize what I missed most about family who have passed on is their rock presence. Their being there, regardless if you need them or not. At 30, I still feel like a child sometimes. A child trying to grab hold of a hand; only to realize it is not there anymore.



***

I've seen fire and I've seen rain
I've seen sunny days that I thought would never end
I've seen lonely times when I could not find a friend
But I always thought that I'd see you again
Thought I'd see you one more time again
There's just a few things coming my way this time around... now
-James Taylor

The New Perspective

I’ve read somewhere that we cannot control the evil tongues of others, but a GOOD LIFE will enable us to disregard them. This mantra rings true, especially at times like these when I have broken free of what used to drench me and knock me down.

Hence, the new perspective. The new looking glass.



A certain date is approaching real fast, and it usually sends me spinning in a pensive and introspective mood (a soliloquy of the non-verbal kind). What have I become at this point in time? Excuse my being self-anointing but the answer to that question is definitely...BETTER.

Lately, I surprise even myself. How I handle certain situations and certain people. Yes, there are still the hissy fits and adult tantrums but only when the situation really calls for it.

I don’t sweat the small and non-existent stuff as much. Yes, even what other people think (especially people who don’t even deserve my two cents). Love me or hate me, I’ll live. I’ve also learned to respect (and shake-off) other people’s nuances and idiosyncrasies (the politically correct term for mood swings).

Just this week, I came face-to-face with one of the sources of my stress some eons ago. And though she was poised to spit on my face (literally, of course), I held my ground and kept it cool. James Dean cool. My lips formed an empty smile, out of courtesy. She meant to disarm me but her “game” vaporized before it can even graze my skin. I am THAT invincible.

In parallel, my friend D blogged about half-wits who leave nasty and pointless comments on his blog. I know the feeling. Some people have a way of imposing their opinions on others. They use the freedom of speech as a license to make a fool of themselves. I told D to chill, they just want pieces of him (maybe that PJ collection) or wants to be him.

As I am rebuilding my urbanized life after Ondoy washed away some remnants of the old me, I got caught in the excitement of starting anew. Ergo, my silver lining. Change now excites me, whereas it used to stress me a lot. Is this a sures sign of being "stable?"

On a grander scale is the realization that while there are things that I want or am deprived of, there are a lot of things that I have and am grateful for. Looking back, there were times when I longed for greener pastures. Only to realize (thankfully before it’s too late) that a greener pasture usually comes with a huge water bill (wink, wink).

Often, it is best to let the natural course of things unfold. I watch, amazed, as the pieces just fall on their proper places. And they do fit seamlessly...far better than if I have intruded. I stand back now and see the rhyme and reason.

I never knew it could happen to me. But in the dead of winter, I found my eternal summer.



***

I feel the salty waves come in
I feel them crash against my skin
And I smile as I respire because I know they'll never win

Stop there and let me correct it
I wanna live my life from a new perspective

And who cares divine intervention
I wanna be praised from a new perspective
- Panic! At The Disco

My World Is A Flood

Today, a semblance of my old life returned. For the first time in two weeks, I was able to live again in my rented house in QC. Since The Great Flood of Manila (circa 2009) happened.

I checked my place a few days after Ondoy but refused to stay. It was no Provident Village, but the landscape of despondency and misery was just too much. The possessions of my neighbours (especially those from the first floor) are strewn all over the compound, mostly mud-covered or water-damaged. Along the way, I saw some houses that were partially dilapidated. Trash stretched as far as the eye can see, even lacing the barb wires atop the high perimeter fence, indicative that the waters reached those levels.



My room was a miniature disaster scene. The floor is covered with mud and everything on the floor was displaced. Shoes and mineral water bottles near the front door when it should be at the far end of the room. The books on my bedside table all warped by the water. The smell was terrible; the tang of seawater mixed with the sweet-sick smell of sewage. With a sigh of defeat, I just took my clothes that were in need of washing and left. I told my neighbour I’ll come back when things are more shipshape and bearable.



Sidebar: Apologies for the bad photos; they don't capture the distress well enough. I am no photograpger and when you are in the middle of this calamity, proper angle and focus is the last thing on your mind)

And so after two weeks, here I am. Last Tuesday, I spent the entire day tidying the place up and erasing all traces of Ondoy. I had to mop the floors thrice just to remove the muck. I got obsessed with disinfecting everything that was within reach of the knee deep flood. Well, a-whole-floor-and-a-knee-high flood to be exact since I live on the second floor (reminds me of the song Luka). I had to throw out my bed and pillows (I am thinking that if a dry bed is home to gazillions microscopic germs... how much more a flood-sodden bed). I had to remove three boxes full of magazine and books, plus another two boxes of miscellaneous files and papers (old notebooks from work, credit card statements, among others). I placed these in the back area (supposedly for hanging clothes) in the hopes that they will dry out one of these days and be resuscitated/restored.

For some reason, it felt like Christmas came early. A newly cleaned room reminds me of the holidays because general cleaning has been part our family Christmas tradition. Plus, I bought some new stuff which gave the room a brand new feel. I even changed the layout; symbolic of the turning of the proverbial new leaf.

Considering that other people suffered a great deal more, I may not have the right to rant. Or it may be insensitive for me to do so. Still, accepting this twist of fate was not easy. Among my personal casualties are books and magazines accumulated over the years. I lost some hard-to-find books, some newly purchased books, years-worth of issues of my favorite magazine and the last remaining copy of a Rizal textbook, part of which I co-wrote. Being an advocate of the printed art, it was hard for me to let go of these personal treasures. They are my invaluable investments and sources of inspiration. Excuse the dramatics but I feel like part of me was washed away.

On a more positive light, all of my electrical appliances were intact and functioning (can't live without a hair dryer...ok, I'm just kidding). And on a more personal level, Ondoy gave me some paradigm shift; I realize a lot of things. I realize I miss this good old place. I miss being home a few minutes after leaving the office. I miss waking up at 5am for some morning activities (either blog, surf, read or workout). What I didn’t miss is the uneasy feeling every time it starts to rain hard.

This year is turning out to be an annus horribilis for our country. First, the death of Cory then the double whammy of Ondoy-Pepeng. And next year is bound to be circus with the elections.

I’d like to think that I am ready for the next Ondoy. But please, not in the near future. I’ve had enough for now. This experience is already good enough for some storytelling with the grandchildren.

***

Downpour on my soul
Splashing in the ocean, I’m losing control
Dark sky all around
I can’t feel my feet touching the ground
But if I can’t swim after forty days
And my mind is crushed by the thrashing waves
Lift me up so high that I cannot fall
Lift me up

- Flood (Jars of Clay)

Life After Ondoy

This week has been surreal in a cataclysmic kind of way. After Ondoy (Ketsana) sent a record amount of rain last weekend, the most populated parts of Luzon was plunged into a state of horrible devastation. Lives were lost and lives were changed.

Monday morning in the office was gloomy. Although more than half was able to report to work, we worry about those who were severely affected. Everyone present seemed lost in their own bubble of sheer luck. Like we were all holding a fragile bottle of felix felicis in our hands. Being a “survivor” comes with a trickle of guilt. After seeing the horrorscapes on TV, most of the unaffected felt like they won a second lease on life.

Conversations were limited to stories of the weekend’s disaster. And in some stories we find something funny. Trust Filipinos to find some light humor in the midst of these challenging trials.

As P said, there is nothing like a disaster to put things into perspective. For what it’s worth, Ondoy was a painful eye-opener. For both victims and survivors.

Here are the things I want to change after this catastrophe. When the muck and mud has been cleared, we have no choice but move on and swallow Ondoy’s bitter pill.

Weather Forecast Should Include Expected Rainfall. For a country visited by no less than 14 typhoons yearly, typhoon is a fact of life. PAGASA (whose forecast accuracy is questionable) warns us about coming typhoons using Signals 1 to 4. But these signals only foretell wind strength. As Ondoy showed us, rains and resultant floods can be as destructive.



Telecoms Should Provide Calamity Text Advisories. Come on... as the text capital of the world, we are pestered by text messages informing us about sales, promos and marketing gimmicks. But at the height of calamity, we were left in the cold. The government should require the big three telecoms to provide info blast (weather forecast, traffic, evacuation plans) in times of disaster.



There Should Be A Typhoon/Flood Drill. We have heard of fire and earthquake drills; I think a typhoon and flood drill should also be in place. On a greater scale, our country needs to beef up its disaster preparedness measures. And I nominate Kris Aquino to lead this drill (so that everyone will follow). Sarcasm aside, we need to inform people where to go during calamities. Places can be marked as “flood or earthquake shelters,” meaning it’s safe to go there when disaster strikes. Educate your kids also on what to do. Teach them MacGyver instincts.Like when Ondoy flash floods happened, people didn’t realize that they can put empty plastic bottles inside a bag or sack and use these as “floaters.”



Study Ondoy’s Destructive Pattern For Future Warning References. Many firsts happened over the weekend. Floods inundated places that were once safe. First time that the floods reach the second floor in some places. Someone should study the trend so they can give precious warnings for upcoming disasters. For example, at what amount of rainfall should this and this area be flooded? At what critical level should Marikina River be to start a forced evacuation?



That Everyone Should Have A Disaster Kit. Very much like first aid kits, this can be a plastic container containing “living” essentials: canned food, Quaker Instant Oatmeal (better than rice or noodles in terms of storage and cooking convenience), candles, matches, long-life crackers and don’t forget the can opener...inflatables are optional; which can last your family for 2-3 days. This should be placed in the safest and accessible part of the house (and checked once in a while if some food has gone stale). We will never know when disaster will strike (think earthquake or tsunami). Also, those with cars should have a survival kit in their trunks. Get an old bag and place water, biscuits and a full set of clothes inside.



That Images Of Ondoy’s Aftermath Be Shown Before The May Elections. We elect people to “govern” us especially in times of distress. Where are these people when we need them the most?! You can argue that they were helping out silently or secretly (without media coverage). But still, it’s disappointing to realize that we were led by Tina Monson-Palma, Kris Aquino and Kuya Kim in the past week. (Which reminds me, these three should be given humanitarian awards. You can say what you want about Kris, but she rose to the occasion and HELPED IN A BIG WAY. How many famous people can claim that?)



Sadly, Metro Manila did not learn from the Milenyo experience. I hope this second blow of Ondoy will make us take stock about certain things. We are not sinners (as the now-famous FB status declared), but to NOT LEARN from this experience will make us a bunch of fools.

A little paranoia and some preparedness might get us through the next Ondoy, the next Pepeng or the next Arroyo.