Proposed by Sandro Marcos and his uncle, Martin Romualdez.
Approved by Ferdinand Marcos Jr.
Who is the blueprint of Najib, the central figure in Malaysia’s 1MDB scandal? Najib’s wife was compared to Imelda Marcos, to give you a clue.
1MDB. OmG!
They would siphon off the retirement funds of my mom, my brother, and millions of workers who were forced to contribute to GSIS and SSS.
How dare a foreigner on my LinkedIn post say, “give it a chance.” I wanted to smack him and say, were you here when Marcos Sr destroyed the economy? Were you here when his family made the old Philippine Central Bank their personal bank account? That old central bank that the new BSP had painstakingly tried to erase to bring back credibility to the Philippine financial system? No. Then don’t say such stupid things.
It has driven me up the wall this morning. And it riles me more that opposition to this institutionalized corruption is not enough. 🤬
This economist at Natixis gets it, while my LinkedIn commenter doesn’t. 😤
I don’t know why I even bother writing this down. No one gets me anyway. No one also cares what I write about, think about, what I do…
Ah yeah. This is part of my therapy… Having conversations with myself to parse whatever is in my head to lessen anxiety.
While I was having my 2-hr massage, my brain went into a deep dive again why I was moving back to my hometown. I suddenly had doubts about its wisdom. I would be moving farther and farther from civilization. I would miss my Zennya massages. I would miss the convenience of having Grab Food and Grab car. I would miss the PHP 40 Lazada delivery fee.
My hormones are out of whack now so this may account for having cold feet very late into this stage. I’m writing another check tomorrow for my contractor. I mean hey, I would have a fully functional home by Feb, so why am I havig these thoughts?
I was just too busy to do the usual Christmas decorating to cheer ourselves up—well, it’s mostly to cheer me up. The kids don’t care. This is the third Christmas that we haven’t set up a tree because…cats. 🐈
This is the last Christmas that we will be spending here in this apartment. My neighbor, the quietest neighbor I have who lives next to my unit, will be leaving sooner than us. She will be pulling out their stuff on Saturday. Her daughter will be going abroad to work while she will be moving into her sister’s house in Kamias. They stayed here for 19 years. She said she would have stayed longer (because she liked the location) if it were not for my crusty landlady’s mismanagement of the units. Her apartment (D) is full of termites. She often complained to our landlady about the disrepair of her unit but the latter doesn’t listen. Meanwhile, I don’t take shit for an answer that’s why I get things done. I use my own resources to fix things and bill her later. Oftentimes, I just don’t bother billing her because she will just complain that I’m a very expensive renter. Yada, yada, yada. 🤬 That’s why until now the roof at my cooking area still leaks.
Some people shouldn’t be landlords.
My mom said the next family that will get this unit will be lucky because I improved the bathroom (and it is pretty, my mom said) and will be leaving a lot of better fixtures like the higher end faucets, a big bathroom exhaust fan, and the custom wooden counter in the cooking/laundry area. And I kept refreshing the white paint and the closet paint. The only damage I have to fix is the bedroom door knob that I destroyed when the cats were locked inside my room.
This has been home for four years now—five when we leave next year. It sheltered us during the most tumultuous time in our lives. It has broken me as well. I will be leaving the bad jujus behind when I shove the last piece of my stuff into the moving truck in May. I will have a sort of fresh start as I won’t have the bad memories that I still carry in this apartment.
Speaking of Christmas and bad memories, I usually look forward to this season because it meant two-week breaks and I can read a lot of books during my off-time. But since 2020, December also reminded me of the toughest moment in my life. And I was still dealing with shit until February this year. Good thing I was still under therapy at that time so I was able to bounce back faster than I did in August. December 2020 was just trash and all the expletives that you can throw at it.
Thank God for art. I may not be good at it but it has kept me sane.
So December is something I look forward to because of the long break and it’s also something that I dread because some bad taste in my mouth remains. I still get triggered. But it will be all right. I have many things to occupy me so I won’t be living in my head again.
Aside from improving my sketching skills, I am also busy with my house.
My contractor said this small cabinet is not the kitchen cabinet but this is something that will go under my TV. 🤔
Hopefully, I will be busy with my new house for an entire year so I won’t have room in my life to brood.
However, the problem with writers is that we think too much. We have this propensity to perform mental acrobatics because that’s what we do for a living. I know several writers who live in their caves/writing dens (like me) and rarely come out.
My mom stayed with me overnight because she is attending the ordination of priests at the Cathedral of the Immaculate Conception in Cubao. One of the new priests is a family friend.
Just like anything that has something to do with the Catholic Church, the ceremony is ornate and full of pomp. And loooong. So is the church itself.
So here I am, 2 hrs into the ceremony, outside the church and sketching my way out of boredom.
It’s drizzling now so I’ll just finish this later. At least the entire pencil sketching is done on-site. 🤣
Where shall I bring my mom after this…
After church, we went to SM MOA so that my mom 1) can buy new underwear (her excuse to go to a mall); and go to St. Paul’s to buy her 4 volumes of 2023 prayer books. Along the way, we encountered a guitar center. Twin I is saving up for an acoustic guitar.
And I thought I found the perfect guitar for her. Not too big, sounds ok and has an inlet on the side to plug it into an amplifier.
After ticking off everything in my mom’s checklist, we drove to my hometown.
The welding works will be done in January so my stainless steel staircase, water reservoir tower, and fire exit platform will be made. February will just be cabinet works and finishing like painting and installation of shelves. By that time I can pull out my books from my apartment so I can put them in the shelves. That way I would know if I need to install more.
… when I feel my ugliest, fattest, and dumbest. Yes, the dreaded PMS. Sometimes it’s bordering on PMDD. It’s not fun.
I only slept for three hours today. I slept at past 4 am and woke up at past 7 am and since then I have been working. I edited too many stories and wrote two.
I was one of the early birds because I had to come before rush hours (5 pm-8pm) when my car is banned from the streets (Monday, my car plate ends in 1). I parked at the hotel and walked to High Street to work in some nearby restaurant. I was on editing duty today so it was a non-stop flow of stories that needed major fixes. 🥴
My main reason for going out tonight is to see more friends from the industry whom I haven’t seen that much this year–and of course the past two years. I had non-stop conversations with some of the editors with whom I needed to touch base. Right after I arrived, I opened my laptop to do some minor tweaks to a story I had been laboring over for a few hours earlier. One editor said, “Aha! I just finished my final edit right before you came.” That’s usually our greeting to each other; we usually ask, “When are you going to close your storefront?” This translates to: When will you do your last edit/end your editing shift? Are you free now to socialize/do non-work related stuff? Because we editors are normally tied to our “desks”. I put it in quotation marks because “desks” not long ago were literally the physical desks in our publications’ office. Now our “desk” means anywhere we can put our laptops with Internet connection. It’s only during and after the lockdowns news editors were finally allowed to work from home. Before Covid, news editors were required to be physically present in the newsroom so we can supervise the layout and be within cursing distance of other editors. Rain or shine. In my case when I was still with a newspaper, floods or heatwaves.
Covid changed all that.
I asked T, one of the editors I often see and talk with in some events, if she is still required to come to the editorial offices and she adamantly replied, NOOOOO! And every time they have editorial meetings, the topic of working from home constantly crops up and she keeps on campaigning to make this arrangement permanent.
There’s little reason for us to come to the office and face the traffic jam and the high Grab fares. Newsrooms can function like this, as proven by Covid. Your reporters are in the field anyway.
Oh wait, reporters are now house reporters. It used to be a derogatory term for lazy reporters who don’t do the rounds in their beat and seldom cover events. Now, we are legally house reporters and nobody bats an eyelash.
The PR firm that helped arrange this event has given up its physical office since the team realized that it’s more efficient for them to work remotely. Each employee can save money and time and can be more productive this way. The owner of the PR firm said he is weighing if he should just buy one small condo unit just to have an address. I said you can just rent from Regus or other co-working spaces and get the service that offers an office address and a phone number for business registration purposes. I told him that I was thinking of doing the same years before but good thing I didn’t push for it since it was useless… We could just use the Singapore office address for whatever reason.
Now our new business cards just sport our names, job title, our publication, email addresses and mobile number (or Wechat, WhatsApp or LinkedIn). We no longer have physical addresses printed. We’re all floating anyway, and this is especially true for our Singapore office. We all just hot-desk and many of us elect to just work from home.
The corp comm head of the host for this evening’s party also said that their hybrid setup has become permanent. They just hot-desk in their new office and just maintain lockers. It saves them floor space and time. They’re a tech company now anyway, so better make everything digital and cloud-based.
And remote working makes gatherings like this more meaningful. We make an effort to come and have conversations with our hosts and with friends from the industry.
So here we are in this stage where my girls want to hang with their friends more than with me. I’m a cool mom so I had been driving them to places where they meet up with friends.
So this afternoon I drove them to Ayala Malls Feliz in Pasig along Marcos Highway. I loaded their Timezone cards and left them there while they waited for their friends.
I went around a bit but shopping isn’t really my sport so I just went to a foot massage place and did a 70-min session, which was just so-so. Then I just waited for the girls at Agave, the Mexican restaurant in front of Timezone and had this:
I think my astigmatism or myopia has gotten worse. I feel a dull pain pounding behind my left eye, which is radiating now to my forehead and crown.
Another visit to the optometrist is in order. 😑
And oh, I found a random guy playing beautifully on my dream piano.