Creativity

Ever since I was a child, my hands were always busy doing something creative. I was a sickly child (darn you, asthma!) so there were long stretches of days being confined in our house and I had to find ways of amusing myself. I created villages out of cardboard and paper. I made paper dolls. I made notepads out of my parents’ scratch white papers. I picked out clean white pages of old notebooks and sewed the spines together to create new notebooks. I made watercolor paintings; they were not good but it helped me express myself. I remember when I was in 5th Grade that I was crocheting non-stop and was making crocheted pen holders that you can wear around your neck like a necklace. In those days, we often lost our pens and it’s annoying if we lose that one pen that writes perfectly. I sold those to my classmates and it did offset the cost of yarn.

In high school, I continued to draw but I concentrated on pencils. I copied the paintings from our art encyclopedia at home and I remember my favorite artist then was Rembrandt. Then I moved on to album cover art and my first one was the art on Guns N’ Roses’ album Use Your Illusion because it was one of the albums I and my guy friends were listening to back in 1993 (yes, I was one of the boys and that’s how I ended up forming a band right out of college with my high school classmates, but that’s for another blog entry).

One summer, my cousin who was taking up Fine Arts at UST taught me how to use graphite pencils properly, like how to shave the graphite to produce the powder to paint and blend the different grades. Later, I somehow lost interest in it so I concentrated on watercolors. I was happy with it even though I’m not good at it. I was always envious of people who were brilliant in drawing and painting. I remember I became friends with one boy (our common friend was a classmate) over art when I was 15 years old and was in Cebu competing in a national science contest for my research on fungi. He was really good at it but he didn’t pursue a career in the arts and instead ended up as a lawyer (yes, we’re still friends).

I was also into photography. In high school, I didn’t know the technical aspects of photography but I was always with a camera back then. I had so many photos of high school scenes that ended up in our year book. In college, I took up photography because I thought I wanted to be a photojournalist. Those were the days when we still used film so we were taught how to process our films and develop our photos in different formats. We used black and white films then (my favorite brand was Agfa) so we could concentrate on composition and exposure. I had to be judicious with the use of one film roll because black and white films were hard to purchase and chemicals for dark room processing weren’t cheap. So I had to remember which aperture and shutter speed to use under certain light conditions–I had to memorize all those combinations because light is tricky and it shifts. I could not rely on guesswork because I only had 24 shots or 36 shots at most.

I remember for action photography, I had to use my dog Kuting as my subject because I didn’t want to hang on trees to capture speeding cars. I wanted to have my own dark room then because I was so enamored of the entire process. My mom bought a Canon EOS Rebel II with 35-80 mm lens and 80-200mm lens because she knew I would be taking up photography. I went everywhere with that camera. Because of my keen interest in photography, my geologist uncle gave me his Nikon FM2 which he used in Antartica. That manual SLR is built like a tank and since it’s all manual, it does not have electronics that could freeze and malfunction. I also owned a Holga lomo camera just because. All of these babies were left in our old house and I wasn’t able to come back for them right after we moved to this apartment because the priority then was to remove ourselves from there as soon as possible. When I was able to sneak back into that house, all my cameras were gone. I think the girls’ dad took them with him to display in their museum of a house in their province (they’re hoarders).

When I became a field reporter, I always had a digital camera in my bag because you’ll never know what could happen. Which proved to be very true in my career. One of my incidental photos ended up on the front page of the newspaper I used to work for before. It occupied half of the front page that accompanied my big story the following day after I took the photo.

My first digital camera was an Olympus but I wasn’t happy with its color rendering. I moved on to a Fujifilm F30, which I loved to bits because of its film simulation settings and low light capability. Since owning that nifty camera, I’ve always bought Fujifilms. I didn’t invest in a DSLR because having owned an SLR that I lugged everywhere I went, I knew it was impractical for me to carry regularly with my laptop and go chasing sources down the hallways for interviews. I still have the Fujifilm XQ1 that I still use in my travels because an SLR is really impractical and cumbersome. A good compromise is a mirrorless camera (like any of the Fujifilm X series) that I can easily shove in my bag. A good focal length would be 35-55mm but it still looks too touristy–because I use my digicam mainly for travel–so the perfect lens would be a pancake lens…

But I digress…

I had/have so many creative outlets but I can’t say I’m brilliant in any of them. That’s why Iโ€™m envious of creative and talented people because they have a knack for it while I struggle to produce anything passable. I admire them and I hope that none of those creative people I’ve met lose their talent because they got sidelined (just like that artist-lawyer friend of mine and J).

Taken during my first Angono boat ride with J about two years ago. Photo by CallMeCreation.com

Prepare, for the end is near

Pulse oximeter. Photo by CallMeCreation.com

My pulse oximeter has finally arrived. I should make a Covid pack to prepare for home care just in case somebody gets infected and needs isolation. I should be getting the disposable and washable PPEs next.

I’m praying that I wouldn’t need all those things ever.

The situation is not easing up. Everyday my social media feeds are filled with people who express sorrow over a relative or a friend’s death because of COVID-19. Everyday. I’m getting tired and frustrated of saying condolence everyday.

My mom finally got her vaccine shot but I won’t feel at ease until she gets the second dose since protection comes seven days after the second shot. My second dose is scheduled on May 9. Seven days after that I would be confident of taking care of anybody who needs to be nursed back to health.

Meanwhile, one of my cats is in heat again. ๐Ÿคฆ๐Ÿปโ€โ™€๏ธ After 3 weeks. I only had 3 hours of sleep because of her. She’s soooooooooo noisy doing her mating calls and rubbing herself all over, knocking down stuff. I finally rebooked their spaying, which was originally scheduled after Christmas. I wasn’t able to bring them to PAWS on their appointed date because I was still dead during those days ๐Ÿ’”. Hopefully things will go well with their surgeries on the 28th. ๐Ÿˆ๐Ÿˆ

Biting the bullet

Mini sinks. Photo by CallMeCreation.com

I went to Wilcon Home Depot after work to buy tiles, tile adhesive, and grout. I am finally biting the bullet and I’m going to have the bathroom floor re-tiled.

Why did it take me this long (almost 3 years)? Because having the bathroom re-tiled means four days of unusable bathroom (for showering) and that would piss off J so much and I would not hear the end of his complaints. Now that he’s no longer here, I can finally do this. I can devote more time to supervising the work since I have more free time now. When we were still together, 70% of my time was devoted to J, attending to his needs, especially when he was still in AirBnBs: driving back and forth, eating out, running errands for him/with him, doing chores, and keeping him company until dawn. When I’m not yet in his condo, he would be asking, “When/what time are you coming over?”

When he was here in the apartment, I had to make sure the disturbance to him was minimal. Any home repairs or improvement must be worked around his schedule.

That’s why when he suggested to have a sink and have another exhaust fan installed in the bathroom, I couldn’t commit because that also entails tile change. I needed to figure out the logistics and was determining whether my EQ can take the complaints that will surely come my way because he would not be able to shower in the bathroom for four days or do number 1 and 2 uncomfortably. The noise–the hammering to chip away the tiles–would also drive him mad. I was running the numbers in my head if I can afford to make him stay in a hotel while the bathroom is being fixed.

But then there were more immediate things that needed my attention like fixing the car. Then I had to drive him to where he wanted to go whenever he was having cabin fever. Before Covid, I also needed to be in the field for work while I ferry him to his meetings. Then every weekend we always had to do something or go somewhere.

I never came around to tackling the bathroom.

So now as part of my loving myself program, I’m going to indulge in a better bathroom, even if this apartment is not mine/I don’t have equity in it. If I can only fit a Japanese soaking tub in there, I would. I don’t like the tub in my mom’s house, the western style tub that wastes too much water. The hotels or ryokan I pick for my travels in Japan had to be 1) within walking distance of a train station or 2) have an in-house onsen or a deep soaking tub.

Bette Midler’s soaking tub. Photo by Architectural Digest.

So once I start building my cottage, I’m definitely going to install a very good water heater and a Japanese soaking tub.

This blog entry looks like it’s just a story about a bathroom. But it’s more of an example of how I accommodated J in my life. That he was a huge chunk of my life for 2.5 years.

My day, in a series of pictures

That darned ugly thing is always spewed back here by hell. ๐Ÿ˜–

My floofies. Photo by CallMeCreation.com

My bundle of floof a.k.a. kittykats always try to sneak into my room. And they refuse to budge and get off my chair. My chair.

That little sneak. Photo by CallMeCreation.com

That little critter took over my chair while I was having breakfast downstairs (hence, the unmade bed and messy table because I haven’t started my day yet).

The other little sneak after stuffing herself in my handbag. Photo by CallMeCreation.com

They know that the bed is off-limits so either they spread themselves all over my bedroom floor or invade my chair. Giving me an excuse not to work yet.

My floof balls, they’re a joy to have around.

Found some wet food online and they finally arrived! They’re around the same price as the 400g Vitapet wet food that I buy in the Robinsons Express (formerly Shopwise) near the apartment. The big Vitapet cans are hard to come by so I had to search for alternatives online.

I only give this at night, as was the habit started by J since they were little kittens. During daytime they graze on dry food. I should feed them cooked fish and meat every now and then because the dry cat food is high on sodium that causes UTI, kidney, and liver problems.

My dad was right in not believing in dry cat food. We always had separate cooked fish or meat for our cats when he was still alive. The last cat we had ran away a few days after my dad died.

Hmm I should have my cats’ blood work done soon to check… ๐Ÿค”

Still alive and kicking

A parody of Weekend At Bernie’s, a movie my family enjoyed in the early 1990s.

So the old man is still alive and kicking, as shown in his sort of recorded press briefing, whatever proof-of-life broadcast they did last night. Based on the snippets of whatever is posted on Twitter, there was nothing there of note, just ranting against his critics, no concrete plans about the frickin’ lockdown, no plans–period. And yet the DDS keeps on applauding.

Meanwhile, I am much better today compared to Sunday night and yesterday. I felt so rotten for 24 hrs because the side effects of Sinovac were so pronounced. I was itchy all over and felt like I had flu but not full-blown flu. I just wanted to sleep and stay in bed but I had three calls yesterday so…oh well.

So that means my antibodies are fighting off the inactivated coronavirus? I don’t know but damn it should work, after all the crappy feeling I had yesterday.

My aunt had a stroke and is now suffering from pneumonia. She is diabetic and in her 80s. No hospital in Manila took her in because they are so full so not even non-covid cases could be accommodated. My sister assisted them in finding a hospital in my hometown and thankfully they were able to admit her at 1 am yesterday. My cousin drove back to QC to get clothes and other stuff since it seems like they would be staying there for quite a while. She didn’t have enough masks to allow her to double-mask so I bought a box of surgical masks and gave her all my cloth masks when she stopped by my apartment so she could double mask in the hospital. She went back to my hometown to isolate in one of our rooms in my mom’s house until she could bring home her mom.

So now I’m back to sewing cloth masks again because I don’t have any left. Plus my cousin may need more.

San Miguel Light to keep me company while I sew new masks. Photo by CallMeCreation.com

Something horrific happened earlier. I was supposed to message my brother and send him the Lazada link to a laptop that he can check out for his son but damn it I mis-sent it to J. I was wondering why my brother wasn’t responding. Too late, I realized that I sent it to J, because his chat box was next to my brother’s. I had to quickly recall it but it would still show that I sent something. In disgust, I deleted J altogether.

I should have deleted the chat box a long time ago. Now he would think I’m trying to get his attention. Fuck. I’d rather die than do that. I no longer have anything left in me except my dignity. I can’t lose it again.

He may not be my biggest error but he’s my biggest regret. No more, I will never be duped again.

Come to think of it, I don’t know if he really knew me. I bet you he even doesn’t know when my birthday is.


Aside from feeling horrible physically, I am also feeling crappy about that mistake. I needed something to make me feel Ok-things-are-shit-right-now-but-you-will-be-fine-later so I came back to music. I used to listen to “The World I Know” by Collective Soul way back in college when I feel like I’m going nowhere. I would just lie down on my bed and feel the lyrics. I need this right now, after ranting to a friend this morning about work and how I hate it these days and I already wanted to resign but I still don’t have an alternative lined up.

I need this right now.

When it hits, it hits hard

https://www.instagram.com/p/CNLKr3BgzNo/?igshid=3hooleqvryh5

As I said before, when anger hits me, it hits me hard. To the point that I regretted that I loved him that much. To the point that I wished that I never met him.

Because you know, it’s hard. I just want peace. I just want to be left alone. I just want to be… Just be…

I just want this to be over. Because it hurts bad. I don’t deserve this.