Category Archives: memories

27 days without a car

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Primer. I need more dry days for the finishing and buffing.

Keeping my fingers crossed, praying for more dry days so the paint job will be finally done. The broken taillight will be replaced and hopefully I can take this home early next week before I leave for Singapore. ❤

There are still a lot to be done with this car: central locks and alarm, new carpeting, new tint, and sound system (but that is already the least of the things I must do). When my house is completed by December, I’ll start hauling my books and arrange it there. I found that when moving houses, the books are the most difficult to pack and unpack. I will be moving small items little by little so by May of next year, only the big ones will be moved. If the headwinds have died down and the economy recovers from this horrible stagflation, then I will sell this and get myself that new Toyota Avanza for minimal headache.

I’m still thinking if it’s still worth it to reupholster my couch or just buy a new sofa bed from Ikea. From a sustainability perspective, I should have my current sofa reupholstered so that there would be less waste. From a cost standpoint, I don’t know if it would be cheaper. Let’s see after I consult with the reupholsterer.

I think this would be safe from my cats. FYRESDAL Daybed with 2 mattresses, black/Ågotnes firm
Besides, Twin I also wanted this particular sofa bed and begged me to buy it for our house. Photo by CallMeCreation.com

Why would I want a sofa bed? I remember in high school and college, we had a constant stream of friends sleeping over at our house since we had five rooms that can accommodate them. I mean, all of us children had short-term (friends’ homes are far and they want to take naps in between classes and a comfortable place to study) and long-term guests (friends from broken families who needed to get away from the chaos of their homes; friends with no family to stay with during Christmas breaks). My parents made our home open to our friends and I want to keep that tradition. All of our friends had fond memories of spending time in our house. My friends spent their Fridays with me, watching movies in our tiny second floor TV area when we were in high school. In college, our house is where my friends spent and got rid of their hangovers.

I made sure that in the new plan for my tiny house, the kitchen will take the center stage as I will be providing a lot of food for hungry teenagers—and for my sister-in-law and cousin who love my cooking. I’m not an excellent cook but I do some dishes exceptionally well. My friend K and everybody else in my family love my potato salad combined with grilled fish or meat.

Hotpot with mishua tonight. Photo by CallMeCreation.com

I’m excited about the my prospects for the next 12 months. I’m already drawing in my head the plan for the back garden and the front garden. I already have the laborers in mind and the things that should be done (compost pit, growing beds, flower beds, irrigation system, and movable chicken coop).

And this is the goal:

And no one is allowed to rain on my parade.

A colleague asked me today why can’t I just ignore those catfishers? I said, “because I’m bored.” I also want to release this pent-up fury through passive aggressiveness towards unscrupulous strangers. I want to hit and hit ’em hard.

I know this will backfire on me but I just want to get even with the opposite sex, even though it doesn’t really make sense. It’s not even apples to apples but doing this cools my deep-seated anger. I recognize that this anger is unjustified but can you blame me for harboring it?

My journey to healing is still long and hard.

End of an era

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Press release from the PSE.

It is an end of an era.

I remember occupying a slot at the press room at the Tektite building where the second trading floor of the Philippine Stock Exchange was located. I was one of the last batch of reporters who covered the local bourse when it had two trading floors due to some idiosyncrasies of this market. Ours is one of the oldest but it still remains small and illiquid.

I remember the beauty of being on the trading floor, or above the trading floor, when the world was shifting. The most poignant of all was when I was writing my stock exchange stories and all the counters were blinking red during the market meltdown of 2008. The brokers were on the edge of their seats and their landline phones were ringing non-stop. The energy of the trading floor was something to remember.

Now it’s all a memory. Everything is online.

The last time that I will have a photo against the trading board. Taken in 2017.

Speaking of financial institutions, I received an invite to the annual event at the central bank where all the local business’ heavy-weights will converge. I still don’t have a car by then so I booked a room at Shangri-la Hotel Jen so I will just walk to the venue and back to the hotel. The cost of my Grab from Quezon City to Manila and to Quezon City (if I manage to book a ride) would be equal to my hotel reservation. Because it will be on a Friday evening and the chance of rain is high.

Now I need to buy a new dress.

The girls and I went to the mini supermarket 200 meters away from the apartment this evening because I have no car. I had to make do with the limited choices we have there and just grin and bear it.

Just snacks and drinks. Photo by CallMeCreation.com

I just ordered and have my meat delivered at home by Monterey and as for the vegetables, the girls and I would ride our bikes to UP for that tomorrow if it doesn’t rain.

My girls got prize money from their grandma for earning an average above 90 (which was already equivalent to an honors’ grade in other schools; their school doesn’t rank kids). Twin I bought the roller skates that she has been dying to have for two years.

She has been falling on her butt all day. Photo by CallMeCreation.com

While Twin A finally bought the Royal Kludge hotswappable mechanical keyboard and Logitech Pebble mouse for her games.

Tadahhh! She finally bought it. Photo by CallMeCreation.com

Even if I can afford to buy it for them, I didn’t and resisted for as long as I can. They had to earn these. Either through doing their chores or by working on their grades.

This morning they had their diagnostic exam for their high school review and they were sad that they weren’t able to answer a lot of Math questions because they said these weren’t taught to them yet. I said it’s ok because it was just the review center’s way of knowing where to level off with their students. Eventually the review center’s teachers will show them how to solve these Math problems.

They will be starting their review classes on Monday.

Aha! The school season is starting.

I have finally transformed into a cat.

To cap the workweek, my girls have spent the evening fooling around. They taught me the sticker function of my new phone. 😂

ALL IS WELL, ALL IS WELL, as my friend taught me to say.

Do me a favor, this friend said. “Don’t let memories get you down. Be happy.”

My friends have lifted me up through all my struggles ever since I got broken.

All my drawings had been sad and lonely. But all will be well. All is well.

I’ll try to put a smile on my face everyday. Chase the cobwebs away. Have my friends chat with me online. One of these days I will fly to Europe and see a bigger world since my girls are already grown up and I can be away for two weeks. Stop first at our London HQ then jump to Edinburgh as I had always wanted to visit William Wallace’s country.

All is well, all is well.

There is always something to smile about everyday. Love myself everyday.

Going down the memory lane

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Driving around the campus at around 9 pm. Photo by CallMeCreation.com

My girls and I drove around the campus last night, the first time in years. Well, they said this former gym of ours is very haunted and my father said the Japanese soldiers during WW2 used this area as their HQ and the entire Baker Field as POW concentration camp. Some people claim that they heard marching of soldiers coming from inside the hall in the dead of the night or saw shadows from the balcony above. Shining piercing eyes looking out from the huge windows. Thankfully, I haven’t nor I want to see/hear/experience such things. Before the Copeland Gym was constructed, this was where we played badminton, volleyball, table tennis, basketball, etc and we had the shower rooms here. As a former football varsity player, I was almost a resident here, playing for the university since high school.

Today, Twin I asked how I did my notes when I was still studying—basically, how to take down notes for studying. So I unearthed my notebooks from my boxes of memories to show them that I was a diligent note-taker during my student days, a skill that is very useful in my job up to this day.

My steno notebook that I used for ALL my courses 😂. These were my notes in Great Political Theories. Photo by CallMeCreation.com

Even I am surprised to see that my notes were really neat back then. It’s just people who borrowed my notes were confused that these were chronologically arranged and not divided according to course 😂😂😂😂😂. So if they photocopied this, they would inadvertently copied my Chemistry notes or Microbio notes for that particular day.

My General Chemistry notes. Photo by CallMeCreation.com

Statistics. Photo by CallMeCreation.com

However, I doubt if I was able to encourage my kids to be good with their note-taking because they keep on saying their handwriting is terrible. So I had to show them all my journals that I wrote and kept since 1990 (when I was their age now) so they can see I also had ugly handwriting when I was much younger.

Some of the notebooks that started my writing career. Photo by CallMeCreation.com

Twin I tried to read one entry from high school, which was just an account of what happened that day, which is similar to what I’m doing right now—only that this is more high-tech. 😂 Keeping and writing on my journals everyday since I was 10-11 years old led me into the writer I am now. Some of the notebooks here are not necessarily just journals; some here are notebooks for my essays that I eventually transfered on Word doc and submitted to the national newspaper I was writing for when I was still in college. Yep, I was already writing for PDI even when I was still an undergrad because I wanted a headstart.

This brings me to the conundrum of whether it was wise of me to be limiting myself to this narrow path of being a very specialized journalist. Or just be a journalist. Some ex-colleagues have jumped into other professions; they have become lawyers, communication strategists, owners of their PR firms, or completely jumped into entrepreneurship.

But then because I didn’t go back to school so I can pivot, it would mean I would be starting from the bottom of the ladder. That is always the case: it doesn’t matter if you were an experienced journalist or an MD or a pop artist—if it’s not your expertise, like fund management, investment banking, or techpreneurship, you would have to start at the bottom of the ladder as an associate and work your way up. My extensive career as a journalist holds little value in a different field and I understand that. So my recourse then was to take CFA exams just like what my colleague is now doing. However, I simply cannot afford to be an associate at this stage because my kids are growing up. CFA certifications or MBA would allow me to shift as a mid-career professional. Even my friend who is a CPA-lawyer with an MBA and niche expertise in tech is still not partner in her firm. She needs to be as seasoned as her seniors in her firm and build a name. She still needs to earn her stripes.

So my dilemma is I have already earned some stripes in this field, more stripes than some of my peers have. I still like what I’m doing but sometimes I cannot help thinking if I’m limiting myself.

On the flipside, would I still want to slave away when my life is already “settling”? I’m soon building my home, taking life more slower compared to a decade ago, and I just want to plan my trips and building the life I want during the weekends. I realized that even if my children can already fend for themselves, they still need guidance especially they’re now entering adolescence—that age that has so many pitfalls that can scar a person for life. I felt this tug today when they told me their friend, who had everything, is still complaining about “life”. Twin A said, “we don’t understand why she’s being like that. She has all the material things she can ask for: she has a cellphone while we don’t have one but that’s ok. She has pets and her parents pay attention to her. She has a father and a mother, while we don’t really have a dad. Yes we have Daddy but…”

I don’t know the answer. I wish I have the wisdom to navigate this treacherous waters. Being a solo parent doesn’t help at all in answering my career questions.

Gone were the days

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Media scrum after former Vice President Jojo Binay‘s speech in a business conference. Photo by Philippine Star.

Gone were the days that we could interview officials this freely. Doorstop/ambush interviews like this are golden because the interviewees’ responses to questions are often not scripted and this is where we get the soundbites. I used my iPod Touch for voice recordings because it was easier to use when I’m transcribing. This photo was taken in 2014, when then-VP Binay was dealing with allegations of corruption and such. I couldn’t hide my resting bitch face because I wasn’t really happy with what I was hearing. I could not help but reminisce and feel nostalgic about how our lives as reporters were relatively easier back then. 😭

I saw this photo when I was uploading new photos on my Google Drive that I share with my cousins.

We had lunch in my bff cousin’s house since her sister from New Jersey arrived for a vacation and to visit their mom who almost died last year (or technically she already died because her heart stopped twice???). So I took photos with my trusty Fujifilm XQ1 (which I don’t think will die anytime soon) because for me it was easier to snap photos quickly with a standalone pocketable digicam. My mom and older sister came, too, so they can see my aunt for the first time after she was hospitalized in our hometown at the height of the Covid-19 Delta lockdown (she had a stroke and no Metro Manila hospital could take her in).

As I went through my Google Drive and Photos, I saw some pictures that I haven’t seen for a long time, like this one:

I was just 18 here.

I was with my cousin (whose house we invaded today) and my younger sister (yes, she looks older than me). My girls look like me.

Gone were the days I could fit into a size 6 😭

I’m still staring at the sketches I’ve done the past few days and I’m still trying to find the “spark” that would inspire me to paint. When I painted the pink peony yesterday when I’m not really into it, I wasn’t happy with the result. It’s hard when you force it.

I’ll probably just have to sleep this off.

Anilao sunset and my life-long penchant for winging it

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Art and photo by CallMeCreation.com

This sums up my feelings last week.

Meanwhile, my cats are having none of those stresses and are just chilling on my bed while I have my zoom meeting.

I envy my cats. They don’t give a fuck. Photo by CallMeCreation.com

I need to get back to work and ignore this government. Photo by CallMeCreation.com

No more basura days because the month is halfway gone and I need to push the team to chase stories. Myself included. I have an interview tomorrow and I must process my travel plans, book tickets and hotel.

And damn it, the rains are already here! We are having heavy rains in the afternoon everyday. I guess camping in the mountains this coming weekend is already out of the question. I checked the NOAA satellite view, there’s no typhoon or low pressure area; it’s pure southwest monsoon, or what looks like it.

It came really early. Drats.

Went around the village this afternoon for errands and had Twin A’s gear shifter and brakes changed. Hopefully, it won’t rain as meeehhhh, according to weather.com it would be thunderstorms for the rest of the month. So I guess the best bet is to go to my hometown this weekend to bike, even if it’s raining, it’s perfectly fine. I actually like cycling (and playing football) under the rain when I lived there.

We also went to the girls’ school to get their report cards. I’m happy to say that their GWAs are above 90. They have a fighting chance to pass the UP high exam. They need to have this kind of GWA from 5th Grade to first two quarters of 6th Grade and high entrance test scores to pass. I’m keeping my fingers crossed.

I remember when I was their age, I needed to keep my GWA above 90 as well but my internal target was 92-95. Sometimes I messed up, sometimes I hit the target…But I don’t remember studying as much as my classmates who were also in the honor roll. Like they even had pie charts of their daily study schedule whereas I was just winging it 🤣. I guess if I really studied hard back then I would have been one of the “bright kids” that the teachers loved. But that wasn’t me. I had too many things going on (extra-curricular activities and socializing) that’s why I was always distracted.

Of course, I won’t tell my kids this. 😂

And when I got to UP high, I told my parents I promise I will pass the UP College Admission Test, but let me have fun in high school. So I did. I was just an average kid among the the “bright” ones because I wanted to be just that. I didn’t want to bother with being on top of the class because… I don’t know. I wanted to pursue other things like theater, glee club, sports, and social life. I was a popular kid back then but I wasn’t cool enough to be the “It” girl.

I was qualified to take the Advanced English class but I skipped the screening exam one summer because I was vacationing with my cousins in our parents’ hometown. Well, it turned out ok in the end because none in our batch’s Advanced English became writers or journalists. I think it boils down to grit and guts + skills in pursuing such goals. So in the end I didn’t lose much for not being in any advanced classes before but I had rich life experiences. Like I missed screening exams but that summer (and the following summers) we hiked regularly on the mountain to have a beautiful view of Taal Lake and West Philippine Sea whenever we were bored, bathed in a pool of spring water, we made lifelong friends with the children of our parents’ neighbors and classmates, reconnected with distant relatives, and grew closer to our grandparents, aunts and uncles. We had so many escapades that I wouldn’t exchange for any academic recognition when I was in high school.

I only got back to being serious with my academics when I was in college. I think that was the only time I did study, but I still didn’t have good study habits because I loved winging it since I still had a lot going on. I remember going around campus with just a ballpen and a steno notebook. I only had a few pesos in my pocket. I was a good note-taker but my notes were chronologically ordered. A normal human being would arrange it according to subject/course, but not me. So my classmates got confused when they photocopied my notes 😂 Little did they know I typed my notes into word documents at home and saved them into little diskettes in rainbow colors. I think that’s how I studied back then, that’s how I can afford to wing it.

I also remember going around campus in loose jeans, tank top, baseball cap and hard ground football boots like the one below so I don’t have to bring too much when I played in the field every afternoon.

I deliberately dressed like a boy because I was trying to be low key, to stave off male attention. I had been the subject of jealousy among some female classmates (spreading rumors and lies) because one heartthrob kept sticking with me because he found my company more enjoyable because there was no pretension on my part. I knew he wasn’t interested in me because he was courting a really girly girl on campus. It was just he was a theater major in the Philippine High School for the Arts (which could have been my track if I pursued it), we both watched Beavis and Butthead and Daria on MTV, and liked the same music, books, and movies. It was just… What can I say? The attention from other people was overwhelming. I also learned that there were guys who watched our scrimmage in the football field every afternoon because… I was really uncomfortable with that. So for a year I pretended I was a boy so I can continue with my carefree life.

Enrollment

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There.

I already paid for the girls’ school tuition this afternoon. Writing the check and handing that amount to the school cashier every May is always a leap of faith.

They will be having a hybrid setup where the children will be divided into batches: some kids will be physically in school on MW while the others are at home; then they will be at home for T-TH while the others will be in school. Thank you for small mercies like this because my kids are tired of online school. I would have been tired too if I were in their shoes.

mother helping her daughter with her homework
Photo by August de Richelieu on Pexels.com

I have also paid for their high school entrance exam review tonight. They will have the sessions starting June every weekday afternoon and by August through September they will be having it every Sunday, for 4 hrs every morning until noon.

Alongside that are their regular Kumon sessions.

Twin I complained that they already have too much on their plate. I told them that was nothing when I was their age. I had high school entrance exam review classes, Math tutorial, Sunday (Catholic Church) school, and Rondalla practices, piano lessons, and goodness knows what else. I rode public transport through all of these. I didn’t complain because it was expected of me and there’s this unspoken pressure that 1) must always be an honor student; 2) must pass UP high school and UP (college) or else I will fail my parents and bring them shame since my brother topped those exams; my older siblings always graduated with honors, if not valedictorian. I was not given a choice not to pass those exams. I was not given a choice not to be an honor student.

It was not an option.

My kids are luckier because they know I have a Plan B. My parents had no Plan B for me then. It was taboo. I was the only one among my siblings who didn’t take the Philippine Science High School exam because right off the bat I knew I will not pursue a science career. My other choice then was Philippine High School for the Arts but I was confused whether I would be pursuing theater then or creative writing so in the end I didn’t take the screenings, but I already had in my hand the application forms. In the end I just rested my entire future in one entrance exam and it was only now that I realized that I would have been truly fucked if I didn’t pass UP high. My mom said, just a few years ago, that she was confident that her children would pass. I just don’t know where she got the confidence that I would.

man writing on table
Photo by Jeswin Thomas on Pexels.com

My kids are now pressured to choose what their career paths would be–Twin I came to me one night and told me she doesn’t know what high school track she should pursue. I told them they could be whatever they want. They wouldn’t know what they wanted to do in life even after they graduate from college. I told them some friends keep reinventing themselves 20 years after. So they shouldn’t lose their hair trying to figure out what they wanted to do because things change.

I was the rare person who knew at 16 what she wanted to do for the rest of her life. Twenty-six years after, I’m still doing it and I have no regrets.

This song by Sam Smith is so apt for me right now. I used to always downgrade myself, thinking that I didn’t deserve so and so things, this person, this…Blame it on low self-esteem growing up. It took me 40 years to realize that no, I’m not so bad after all. That I’m ok. Sometimes more than ok. If only I knew what I know now back when I was in my 20s, I could’ve saved me a lot of heartache and sorrow.

But then adulting is like that, isn’t it?

Have you ever felt like being somebody else?
Feeling like the mirror isn’t good for your health?
Every day I’m tryin’ not to hate myself
But lately, it’s not hurtin’ like it did before
Maybe I am learning how to love me moreIt used to burn
Every insult, every word
But it helped me learn (yeah)
Self-worth I had to earn
So I tried every night
To sit with sorrow
And eventually, it set me freeHave you ever felt like being somebody else?
Feeling like the mirror isn’t good for your health?
Every day I’m tryin’ not to hate myself
But lately, it’s not hurtin’ like it did before
Maybe I am learning how to love me moreJust a little bit (love me more)
Just a little bit (love me more)
Oh, no (love me more)
Just a little bit (love me more)I used to cry myself to sleep at night
I’d blame the sky when the mess was in my mind
I couldn’t see, I couldn’t breathe
So I sat with sorrow
And eventually, it set me freeHave you ever felt like being somebody else?
Feeling like the mirror isn’t good for your health?
(If you have, let me hear you right now)
Every day I’m tryin’ not to hate myself (yeah, yeah, yeah)
But lately, it’s not hurtin’ like it did before (sweet child)
Maybe I am learning how to love me moreJust a little bit (love me more)
Just a little bit (love me more)
Oh, I’m gonna try to (love me more)
With a little bit of love (love me more)Love me more
Love me more (just a little bit)
Love me more (love me more)
Love me moreOh, gonna love me more (gonna love me more)
Oh, gonna love me more (yeah, yeah, yeah)
Oh, gonna love me more (gonna love me more)
(Oh) oh, gonna love me more

This is me while working, my cat Sushi joining me in my press conference.

Photo by CallMeCreation.com

The weekend is soon here. Saturday we will stick near our apartment because there will be a gigantic traffic jam as people will be gathering in Makati CBD, and the stage for the Leni x Kiko Grand Rally will be located at Ayala Ave cor Paseo de Roxas. I think this will attract one million people and will spill over to Edsa. The whole of Makati CBD will be clogged—there will be a domino effect so everything else is going to be frozen.

I wanted to go there, but my hotel reservations came a week earlier and I don’t have room in my budget this month for another staycation in the CBD area. My sister said it’s difficult to attend these rallies because you have no place to pee, it’s hot, and parking is a nightmare. My fear of Covid is winning over my FOMO (fear of missing out). My kids and I will just probably bike around with Leni x Kiko posters all over us.

And these text spams by Marcos? I fight back…

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! I enjoy trolling them.