Making sense of madness

White keyboards. Photo by CallMeCreation.com

I woke up before 7 am since I had a lot of work piling up on me. However, I got distracted by a lot of keyboards on my desk so…I cleaned them. As in I took them apart and cleaned them with Wipeout and each keycap was brushed… The Miniso bluetooth keyboard will be given to my younger sister while I roadtest the 61-key mechanical keyboard for today.

I just ordered new keycaps for the latter. Just because. Maybe I should change the switches to cherry or buy a sound dampener…Let’s see if the blue switches would grow on me.

Then I attended our weekly bureau chief-commercial team calls while I cleaned the keyboards…and it’s non-stop editing and admin work from thereon. It’s already 10:17 pm and I’m still not done with the edits.


Overloaded. Photo by CallMeCreation.com

I worked at our office on my last day in Singapore and managed to still meet my colleague friend at the last minute she came into our office. She helped me load my luggage when my Grab Car arrived at our building’s driveway.

Last minute work.
That day’s lunch crowd. I had to have my lunch ordered for takeaway because it was too crowded.
Waiting for my takeaway. Photo by CallMeCreation.com
Something easy to eat at my desk. Photo by CallMeCreation.com
It was about to rain. It was a bedweather kind of day. Photo by CallMeCreation.com
My Grab driver was not happy to drive through the rain going to Changi Airport. Photo by CallMeCreation.com
I went around the duty free shops, thinking of buying something the last minute. Either a Burberry perfume or this. 😂 Photo by CallMeCreation.com

Rainy departure. Photo by CallMeCreation.com

I was so tired when I arrived in Manila and I had to pick up my car at ParkNFly and drive for 1.5 hrs to my hometown. I even had to tweak my speech and slept at around 4 am.

So sleeeepppyyyyyyy.

My kind older sister bought me the sablay, the ceremonial sash that UP graduating students wear in lieu of a toga, which is a Western construct anyway. Photo by CallMeCreation.com

The sablay is an indigenous clothing material worn like a sash on formal occasions. Woven into this garment are the baybayin (indigenous script) for UP, which in Tagalog is pronounced as U-Pa.

We were the last batch of UP graduates who had worn the mortar and toga for graduation. The batches that came after us had to wear the sablay, which I prefer because it’s not as hot and it looks more elegant. When I was conferred with my master’s degree, I had the chance to wear the sablay but I just borrowed it because I thought I will no longer wear it.

How wonderfully wrong I was.

Who would have thought that I would be speaking before graduating students 22 years after?

I coveted this pin. Photo by CallMeCreatiob.com

During my time, only the honor graduates were given the privilege to wear this pin.

And I sat in front. Photo by CallMeCreation.com

But I was not allowed to wear the sablay when I was there because I was wearing black. LOL. I already forgotten the dress code.

But I was allowed a selfie LOL.
It’s lovely and scary at the same time. I was given the honor to be right smack in the middle.

I was a bit afraid that my speech was too…blunt. Very me. Too much of an activist. But then the Chancellor said the same thing. The class valedictorian (first summa cum laude of the college) said the same thing. Some parents have liked my speech. Faculty members thanked me for saying it. Some parents had their photos taken with me instead of being offended.

My mom was proud of me and sent a copy of my speech to her friends. She said my dad in heaven would have been so proud for standing up again for what is right.

College of xxx Testimonial

3 August 2022

Chancellor xxx, Dean xxxx, colleagues, staff, and the graduates. Magandang umaga, maupay na aga, maayong buntag sa inyong tanan.

Any foreign students here? Can I speak in Tagalog?

First of all, palakpakan natin ang mga guro natin na ginapang din ang paggraduate nyo. Ramdam ko ang hirap nila dahil nagturo din ako ng ilang semesters sa UP Diliman, sa College of Mass Communication. Sobrang hirap magturo. Natutulog ako literal na napapaligiran ng chinechekan na mga test papers at articles na ginegradean. In the end hindi kinaya ng katawang lupa ko so tumigil na muna ako magpanggap. So ang tagumpay ng mga magsisipagtapos ngayon ay tagumpay din ng mga guro ninyo.

I just came from a 10-day trip, visiting my regional headquarters in Singapore—which is technically my office—which I haven’t seen for three years. I was busy networking and talking for days to people from all over Asia, Europe and North America about the global economy and where we’re headed in the next 12 months.

I manage reporters from all around Southeast Asia, edit stories from all around Asia Pacific, and literally run alongside the president of Hitachi and CEO of Cargill to get exclusives from them. Pre-Covid, I hop from one city to another because of my job. I report about mergers and acquisitions, billion-dollar deals even before such news hit Bloomberg and Reuters.

Sounds glamorous, right?

But I’m not here to talk about that. I’m here to talk about an ugly and inconvenient truth.

What I do now is soooo far from where I had been 22 years ago, when I was just like you, trying my best to look adult, which Gen Z people call adulting, but basically still bewildered as to what I would be doing for the rest of my life. I was getting out of my comfort zone. Tambay lang naman ako ng DevCom lobby nun eh—ay mali, ng BioSci pala para sumilay.

At that time, I also wanted to kick myself because I was only 0.05 away from being a cum laude graduate at that time. All I had was a pin from being a Natatanging Pahinungod.

But little did I know that moment at the CDC testimonial in April 2000 would chart the road I that will be treading for more than two decades.

You see, I did not become cum laude because I failed my SocSci 2 course. I kept walking out of that class because my teacher kept on exulting the greatness of Ferdinand Marcos Sr, how brilliant he was, every chance that she got. Yeah, we would be talking about Machiavelli’s the “end justifies the means” then she would interject that Martial Law was necessary at that time. You could only imagine my eye rolls and probably my eyeballs were already in a different dimension whenever she did this.

She said there was no human rights violation during his 20-year reign. I kept walking out of that class and I was sitting in front. Eh maldita ako. I made sure I showed my displeasure on my face. I kept raising my hand to dispute her claims, like that the people wanted a plebiscite as shown in newspaper pictures. And I’m a newspaper person…hello! I told her that was a sham photo; my mom said it was a moment when people were asked who wanted free rice. Of course, the hungry poor people raised their hands and said, “Ako! Ako! (Me, me!)”. Et voila! The photo was used to spin and twist truth.

Sounds familiar, right?

As for her claims about human rights violation? I told her that my uncle, Nick Atienza (then chairperson of the Kabataang Makabayan) suffered one of the most horrible tortures at Fort Bonifacio but lived to tell the tale. That shut her up.

As a footnote, former BSP Deputy Governor Diwa Guinigundo later told me that Nick was just three cells away from him and every night he could hear the military henchmen torturing my uncle and his screams of pain. Tinotroso nila siya sa pader, yun ang term na ginamit ni Gov Diwa. He said he wondered how Nick even survived.

Anyway, I told my adviser that time that I was in trouble, and I needed to drop SocSci 2. She said dropping would cost me my Latin honors. So I stuck with it.

So long story short, that teacher gave me a 4 and wanted me to take a remedial exam, which I told the Social Science Dept Chair at that time, the late Dwight Diestro, that this was very wrong because I passed all her exams. Instead subjecting myself to the mercy of that horrible human being of a teacher—who reminded me now of Dolores Umbridge—I decided to take SocSci2 AGAIN. And that that didn’t make things better.

I told my parents about this problem, but instead of getting admonished, my father told me one of the most important lessons in my life:

It’s better to not get honors for standing up for the truth instead of accepting lies just to get good grades. It’s difficult to go against the system even if you are right; remember that you must be brave because this is always a lonely fight.

Yes, Latin honors can get you through the doors easier and I congratulate you for your hard work. I was once there. You get the plum entry positions and can demand a better entry salary if you can. At that time, I was frustrated. I could not tell prospective employers that I was 0.05 away from being cum laude. You don’t say that in job interviews. It’s either you are a UP cum laude or not. That is that.

But you know, it will only matter in your first job. Integrity will be with you for the rest of your life and it is the most important thing that you shouldn’t lose, whether you land in mainstream media, development work, or other communication ventures. 

And I tell you 22 years after, that moment at the CDC testimonial still resonates with me. What being a Natatanging Pahinungod means; and it turned out to be more important to me than that Latin honors. Because my fight for the people at the grassroots continues to this day. Pahinungod = to offer oneself. This is not outreach where you come from a different place to reach out to those who are at a lower level than you. Because pahinungod is being with them, opening up yourself to them.

Ang trabaho ko ay ang ipaglaban ang nasa laylayan at ang puno ng aking pagkatao. As a journalist, as a parent, as daughter, sister, friend, as a Filipino.

My fight for those without voices and for the truth have been my guiding principle in my entire career as a local journalist and as a journalist for Asia Pacific. It’s a lonely fight. It’s a dangerous fight.

I was trolled for speaking out against a government agency that harbored well-known “mother” trolls that keep farms. My trade organization didn’t fight for me even when I took up the cudgels for some of their officials who were being treated unfairly by that government agency. I was told that some government officials didn’t want to attend the business conference organized by that trade group because we (specifically me) were anti-Duterte. I was later kicked out of that trade organization since I am a liability.

I wrote an essay about how the Marcoses brought down the country’s economy by cronyism and it went viral, which exposed me to more online harassment and threats of rape and whatnot.

But I stood my ground. I always remember what my father told me when I failed SocSci 2: Fighting the system is a lonely fight. Fighting for the truth is inconvenient.

In this age of “history is chismis” and “6.1% inflation is not high”, we communicators must always fight for the truth. There’s this artista na itago na lang natin sa pangalang Giselle who graduated magna cum laude from CMC who is now trying to spin the truth, participating in historical revisionism. Did she forget the things that were taught to her by her alma mater? Or because the truth is inconvenient?

We in CDC are equipped with the right tools (such as research skills) to bring out the truth and give voices to the powerless. Tayong graduates ng CDC ay may may kakayahan na makatulong sa mga nasa laylayan. How to communicate with them and for them to facilitate change. Because we are at the forefront.  

Ano nga sabi ng isang senador? That Development Communication is irrelevant daw, outdated daw. Mali sya. She’s very wrong. More than ever Devcom is needed now, this moment of 6.1% inflation, of rising interest rates, of supply chain disruptions, of economic downturn that would hammer especially those who are at the bottom of the pyramid.

We can be agents of change for development. Di ba yun naman ang essence ng Devcom? Pero ang pagbabago hindi lang dapat nasa gitna, kung hindi dapat isasama natin ang laylayan. Ang pagtatrabaho para sa pagbabago ay mula sa baba at sa taas at magtatagpo sa gitna. Pagtulong at pagsama sa laylayan. Pedagogy of the Oppressed. Hindi yung, “Let me educate you.” Kungdi let’s educate ourselves about the plight of those who were misinformed, who believed the lies fed to them because they no longer had anything else to believe in. It’s not us teaching them because we were more educated but it’s also about them teaching us. You know, if you remember our FGD days…Always remember that it is strategic communication and not merely information dissemination. And we bring that to the table to effect change.

I also challenge the CDC to fight disinformation and misinformation. To fight against the red-tagging of people like me who speak the truth. I was waiting for CDC to come out with the statement against one of its natatanging alumni who was fond of red-tagging us and the rest of the University.

I told you, it will never be convenient. We are up against a smooth and powerful machinery. Misinformation and disinformation are being used to serve the interests of the powers that may be.

Opposition voices are being shut down, one by one, as we have seen in the 1970s and in recent weeks and months. The cogs are turning. The doors are being closed on the faces of journalists like me. Eventually, on the faces everyone.

Where are you in this? Will you accept the lies to get good grades? Or stand up for the truth and be inconvenienced?

Yan ang hamon ko sa inyo.

Padayon!

###

Haha! They got me a jacket. Photo by CallMeCreation.com

Probably my best friend or my Greek-letter organization sister told the admin that I don’t have any UP apparel that I can wear when I watch the UAAP, especially during UP Men’s Basketball games.

They also gave me a beautiful woven malong, a traditional Filipino-Bangsamoro wrap-around skirt, from Zamboanga. I have two malongs already from Davao and they are very versatile. Usually I use them as a wrap when I get cold or as a beach towel where I can sit. Never as a skirt yet because I don’t know how to securely wrap it around myself.

Photo from Zamboanga.weebly

One of the most fascinating indigenous dances I watched is the Sambi sa Malong performed by the Bayanihan Dance Troupe. Very complicated dance, like the singkil.

Photo from Zamboanga.weebly

AAAAAAAAND I’m still working. Damn it. I just had a story published a few minutes ago.

I can sleep in tomorrow probably?

Dear…

… theater and commercial actor,

You don’t know me and I don’t think you would ever know me. But one day I would be able to watch you on stage.

You make me smile.

I came from the stage, too. I can see how intense your rehearsals are. I’ve been there. But eventually I had to choose writing over the stage. You, on the other hand, chose the harder road.

Would you be able to get to know me? Maybe. If I would be brave enough to meet you backstage. But I’m not brave. So I’ll just watch you from afar.

Stock photo from the Internet.

Boycott

https://twitter.com/guampartosa/status/1539085547846504448?t=2orc_WutBsrcDxdNhuztSQ&s=19
https://twitter.com/guampartosa/status/1539085553961799680?t=acdDUqfUmPn2ADE3cWw06w&s=19

If I only knew 😤

I would never support enablers. I’ll stop going to Pinto; there are other galleries out there.

I just learned Dr. Cuanang is also the doctor who issued the questionable medical opinions for Gremlin a.k.a. Gloria Macapagal Arroyo to escape prosecution. No wonder this doctor has a lot of money; he serves the biggest crooks in the world.

Twin I inside one of the galleries of Pinto Art Museum, the first time they went there when they were 4 years old Photo by CallMeCreation.com

I had been chatting on Telegram yesterday with a friend, who taught me the mantra, “All is well. All is well,” whenever bad thoughts about the past come to invade my head. He told me that not all men are like my exes so I shouldn’t lump together all men under one category.

Well, I told him, I will only change my opinion of men if I meet creatures of their sex that are the opposite of my exes. But as far as I’m concerned, all of them are the same (sorry friend, that includes you). He got pissed, of course, since he was cheated on by his gf who slept with his officemate. 😑

Why is that my friends and I are in this predicament? Because we’re nice? Maybe we shouldn’t play nice anymore. It’s a dog-eat-dog world anyway. The nice ones die quickly.

This friend got depressed for two months and just got out of this funk this year (the cheating happened last year) and he told me I had dwelt too long in my grief. I said this is precisely the reason why I went to a shrink so I can get out of this clinical depression alive. I was too late in consulting a professional (already 8 months after the fact) that’s why it got protracted.

And I pointed out to him that his ex-gf didn’t send him a painting to destabilize him like mine did. The friend did acknowledge that the ex-gf was not as cruel as my ex.


Hah, it’s already 10:34 pm I’m still working on an energy story. Being workaholic makes me dull. I haven’t drawn anything in weeks. This is what it is like having your ass always on the line. I have back-to-back calls tomorrow with the sales team and then in the afternoon, I need to talk to one of my people to tell him that our bid for his promotion wasn’t granted. So I needed to push him further to improve his stats so I can make another attempt by end of the year to push for his promotion.

Meanwhile, I needed to handhold the newest member of the team because of her language issues and she isn’t used to the Western-style journalism, so I need to co-write her stories until she gets the hang of it. If I don’t do it, she will be kicked out by end of the year. I keep on losing people due to language issues and/or not being able to cope with Western standard journalism.

As my former APAC editor told me, the hardest bureau to run in Southeast Asia.

I will campaign for another raise for me by end of the year because of the headaches I’m having.

When you mess up

Dreaming of Diving. Mess and photo by CallMeCreation.com

I was painting purple petunias when I messed up—I spilled water. Lots of it. Then made the most of it and turned this into a dream sequence, with me dreaming about diving. I propped this against my computer monitor to remind me that I can still rescue something that completely went wrong and try to work with it and be flexible. This ain’t pretty but it’s a reminder. Then I will replace this with another mistake, then another. Until I get better with my mistakes.

I made a lot of mistakes in my life and I simply had to work with what I’ve got. I’m no stranger to grinning and bearing it until I see a breakthrough.

I used to think that when things go wrong, they’re punishment for my sins, for the things I did wrong. Blame my very Catholic upbringing for this way of thinking. Now I should know better. Things happen because I’m just human; I am bound to make mistakes. It’s not punishment but rather just a consequence of my very human judgment. Now the test of character comes after how I will pick up myself from this mistake. Will I let it sink me or I will swim? Blame the universe for being cruel? Blame other people for this mess up? <<<< Well this is what narcissists do when things don’t go their way. They blame others but themselves.


Today is a bit slow since China, Taiwan, and HK are on public holiday and Southeast Asia is not that in a mood to chase stories today either. I was able to cook baby back ribs in the slow cooker for more than 6 hours. It was so tender that you can shred the meat with just your fork. You can make a Philly cheesesteak with it only that it’s pork, not beef.

This day was a more relaxed one compared to yesterday when I was still working until 10 pm. I was able to cull dead leaves from my plants. So far so good; the ones I recently bought are still alive.

I think I have more room for flowers since the deadly heat of midday is no more. I just have to continue with companion planting so the plants wouldn’t suffer root rot due to soggy soil.

This is my container garden goal:

This gardener does a lot of companion planting that’s why her container garden looks lush.

I can’t buy plants tomorrow though because we’re going here:

Goodluck to us. We would be making a fool of ourselves here. I haven’t skated since 1994. 😜

Baby blue eyes

Art and photo by CallMeCreation.com

After that pep talk from that sketchbook guy on Youtube, I finally decided to finish this thing that has been festering in my pile of to-do.

Art and photo by CallMeCreation.com

I decided not to line the baby blue eyes with dark liner and left the pencil outline and then I painted the filament silver.

Art and photo by CallMeCreation.com

Then I decided not to draw individual leaves and use the urban sketching technique of doing color washes (three types of greens) and do a collective outline of leaves and some individual leaves since the baby blue eyes in Hitachi were actually in a bed of grass.

Art and photo by CallMeCreation.com

Et voila! I now have a version of my favorite flowers on my wall. My favorite flowers in one of my favorite places on earth.

I think I will make another version of this baby blue eyes for my cousin.


“Mommy,” Twin A said, “KKR si promoting liquid botox.”

“Huh? Who?” I asked, bewildered.

“You know, KKR, that girl. She is promoting liquid botox on Facebook.”

“Ahh, Tito J’s gf,” I said.

“Yes. Twin I and I were watching her videos on Facebook. She’s always doing all these beauty videos and she keeps showing off her boobs in revealing clothes. She still looks like a transvestite though,” Twin A said.

“Ah I don’t care. Let her be. As long as I don’t need that botox I’m fine,” I said.

I really don’t need it and will never need it. In the first place, botox is injected and not applied topically, as my girls said this woman is demonstrating on her video—whatever. Besides, I’m already beautiful as is and I don’t need to inject myself with botulinum toxin. Hello! Anybody with a half-brain knows it is a neurotoxin that can cause your face to be frozen and be without facial expression 🙄 Exhibit A: Nicole Kidman. Exhibit B: Renee Zellweger.

My self-worth need NOT be measured by how many wrinkles I have, by being a daughter of a restaurant owner (a very poor way to be identified, by the way), or by any other external identifier. As my gay friend K said, do not measure yourself against these people—it’s not you who is the problem, remember that.

Yes, K, I am believing you now. I measure myself against how I was a year ago, how I was five years ago. I am older but much wiser now (I hope). I have only myself to compare with.

Someday, someone will appreciate my 42-year-old clear skin that doesn’t need botox, for my intellect, my talents, my generosity, my capacity to love, sense of adventure, my wide range of interests, my resilience, my practicality, my strength—the overall me. I will be appreciated by someone who will not take me for granted and not use me for his selfish gains.

Someday. Not today.

I’ve got some more healing to do.

In the meantime, my cats sleep with me on the bed and provide me with love and comfort. We woke up like this today ❤️. Photo by CallMeCreation.com

Today’s news isn’t reassuring and on top of that I was busy dealing with errant reporters again. So Twin I asked, “Mommy, do you want hot choco?” “Ok,” I said.

Ahh! Hot choco with whipped cream and marshmallows. Photo by CallMeCreation.com

This made me feel a lot better. My daughter made me a calorie-laden drink to ease the tension on my forehead and back. ❤️

Twin A asked me yesterday, “Mommy, did you regret having children?”

I said, “No. I will always choose you over everything else.”

And this question and answer between me and my daughter echoed in my head while I was reading this article and the FB comments on the WSJ post.

To Get Into the Ivy League, ‘Extraordinary’ Isn’t Always Enough These Days. The Wall Street Journal.

While I was not really aiming to get into an Ivy League school for my master’s degree, the opportunities presented to me before I got married and before I got pregnant with the girls were there. I was encouraged by one of my teachers at UP Masscom to apply for a scholarship at the Columbia Graduate School of Journalism where she is an alumna. I was preparing to apply when my father died. Then it all went downhill from there. My priorities have shifted; I got married, just as what my father had wanted. Then other opportunities came along (although not Ivy): scholarship at NYU and Germany but I couldn’t push through because then-husband didn’t want to come and I got pregnant, respectively.

I’m still thinking, would it have been better/made a big impact in my life if any of my plans to study abroad pushed through? For sure I wouldn’t have my girls if I did. Maybe I would have been somewhere else, living in Germany or making a bigger mess of myself in NY—but life would be lonelier without my girls.

I am meant to be their mother because I always knew—at the back of my mind at sixteen years old—I knew I will have daughters.

But I knew also that I am not meant to be with someone. I am meant to meet all these people, not because we were meant to last, but to teach me hard lessons in life.

Would I be earning a lot more if I had a degree from Columbia or NYU? I don’t know. Will I be more fulfilled if I obtained my MA and PhD there? I don’t know either. Probably I will just end up in the academe. It’s not like I will be pursuing a Master in Finance or MBA or law and end up as a hedge fund manager or work for Big Law.

All I know is I am glad I have my girls with me. They give me direction, strength, and reason for being. I believe that we always end up where we are meant to be. Where we need to be. The universe conspires and throws all these obstacles so I would not go in another direction. Kinda like that one blog entry I wrote about James Hetfield and Slash ending up where they were supposed to be and not turn into a football player or a mediocre bass player. Metallica and Guns N’ Roses may not have happened.

So for those kids who had been complaining about not getting into Yale and Harvard (in the WSJ article), they may not need to be there in the first place to be happier and successful later in life.

Life is short. I have a high school classmate, a gynecologist who has gone through chemotherapy because she is battling breast cancer. She just had a mastectomy last week. I know she would give anything to be healthy and spend more time with her son.

No amount of Columbia U PhD can compare to moments with my kids and their laughter when we swim in the sea, when we bike, when we hug on my bed.

As I said, I am where I am supposed to be. I am healing with my children beside me.

And one day I will be able to forgive.

Leaves

Ben&Ben

I can think of all the times
You told me not to touch the light
I never thought that you would be the one
I couldn’t really justify
How you even thought it could be right
Cause everything we cherished is gone
And in the end, can you tell me if
It was worth the try, so I can decide

Leaves will soon grow from the bareness of trees
And all will be alright in time
From waves overgrown come the calmest of seas
And all will be alright in time
Oh you never really love someone until you learn to forgive

Try as hard as I might
To flee the shadows of the night
It haunts me and it makes me feel blue
But how can I try to hide
When every breath and every hour
I still end up thinking of you?
And in the end, everything we have makes it worth the fight
So I will hold on for as long

As leaves will soon grow from the bareness of trees
And all will be alright in time
From waves overgrown come the calmest of seas
And all will be alright in time
Oh you never really love someone until you learn to forgive

I never thought that I would see the day
That I’d decide if I should leave or stay
But in the end what makes it worth the fights
That no matter what happens we try to make it right

Leaves will soon grow from the bareness of trees
And all will be alright in time
From waves overgrown come the calmest of seas
And all will be alright in time
Wounds of the past will eventually heal
And all will be alright in time
‘Cause all of this comes with a love that is real
I said all will be alright in time
I said all will be alright in time
I said all will be alright in time
All will be alright in time
Oh, you never really love someone until
You learn to forgive
You learn to forgive
Learn to forgive

Chronicling life

This guy is 100% right. Ever since I started drawing and keeping a sketchbook, I began to see the beauty in ordinary things. I always think about how light and shadows fall on an object and how I would render it on paper. Instead of doom scrolling on my phone, I make my brain busy by thinking about how I could draw it and what colors I would use. My daughter once caught me staring at something and she asked me why. I said I was thinking of how I would draw that. She may have thought I was nuts.

I was like that when I was into photography—I was looking for the beauty in the mundane. I was always looking for a better angle, better way to frame a scene.

Bantayan Island. 2010. Photo by CallMeCreation.com

This is also the reason why I always carry a notebook in my bag. My passport size Travelers Notebook is where I keep my musings while waiting for my turn at the doctors’ clinic or at the bank. When a thing happens while I was standing in line, I always thought to myself how I would write it in my notebook.

It’s just like this blog. There’s no reason for me to continue blogging but I still do it because this is for myself. It’s lovely to chronicle my life this way because I can upload photos, videos and whatnot—like a scrapbook of my daily life. I don’t have to print photos to make a point. When I was writing about things that happened in a day when I was in high school, I had to write the news for that day (“Today Miriam Santiago lost to FVR”) and had to describe/lift passages from newspapers. I had to cut out photos to document the day properly. Now I can look back and see how I was in January 2021 and read how I was a different person back then. I’m still the same person and yet a different person, too.

So this reminds me I have to finish that sketch of that view from UCC. As this guy on the video said, it doesn’t have to be perfect and beautiful; what you’re doing on your sketchbook is for you. I always have to remember that.


So today is a little bit less brutal compared to yesterday. I only had to deal with three edits and rewrite my own story, which my boss had to return to me because she’s demanding so many things.

I rested a bit at lunch—that’s when the world suddenly went dark. It rained heavily.

Starting to rain. I opened the window to feel the wind. Photo by CallMeCreation.com

It was so dark that it looked like it was already 6 in the evening.

This is how my room looked at 12 noon today. Photo by CallMeCreation.com

It was conducive for a nap. I slept on my tummy because I was scrolling through my emails. I think I’m a half-panda; I could fall asleep anywhere.

In between edits, I took the car to the aircon shop to have its AC cleaned. It’s an annual thing so that the evaporator and condenser would not grow molds and smell bad. Tomorrow, I’m gonna have the auxiliary fans and belts checked and buy a new pair of Yokohama tires. I have to make sure that my car is in tip-top shape before our Pico de Loro holiday and for the rest of my vacation leave that I would be spending in my home province. I talked to my bestfriend while I was on the way home from grocery shopping tonight and checked if she would be free for an overnight stay in lake Caliraya. Ah, we have to schedule it the following weekend since she’s still busy computing grades—I almost forgot, it’s Hell Week = the week before the semester officially ends.

In my grocery cart. Photo by CallMeCreation.com

Mommy duty called. I had to fill our pantry with supplies again and this is the only big shop I will do for June because I have no time. The rest will just be top-ups of meat and vegetables in smaller marts because supermarkets are full on weekends.

Harassed mommy waiting in line at the grocery cashier for an hour. Photo by CallMeCreation.com

I then found one little big girl playing with my phone while I was having dinner…

Playing with three pairs of my sunglasses. Photo by Twin I.

I have like 8,000 photos on my phone so I had to order a new SD card (500GB) because I would run out of space at the rate I’m snapping photos/my kids are snapping photos of themselves.