But I indulged my daughter’s obsession with SB19.

We just checked in at Ibis Styles Araneta so I don’t have to drive home late at night after an entire day walking around the mall.

We’re with my bff who was Twin I’s chaperone in the concert. From 10:30 am until 5 pm, I let Twin I roam around Araneta Center to meet some members of the SB19 fansclub and grab some freebies and claim SB19 merchandise she had purchased in advance. Meanwhile, my bff and I, together with Twin A, went around Gateway mall, which had become so unfamiliar to me now that they had extended the mall to connect to Farmer’s Plaza. New cinemas, restaurants, and retailers that cater to the mid to upper middle class.

When we were checking in, the guy at the concierge asked if we were watching the concert. We said yeah, then he said you’re lucky to have booked adjoining rooms (I booked an extra room because my sis-in-law and nephew are joining us). Ibis is overbooked and many SB19 fans are still in the waiting list, hoping some will cancel their reservations, he said.

Well, first of all, I booked the hotel even before securing the tickets. Metrobank cardholders were given the privilege of buying tickets before they opened the sale to the public. My sister had lent us her card and the second Ticketnet opened the special sale, I was already trying to book using three gadgets (a laptop, a tablet, a desktop computer). I was among the first 1-2% who was able to secure tickets. How did I know? I was able to choose seats.

The tickets quickly sold out.

From that moment until 5pm today, Twin I obsessively followed all developments regarding this concert. She is updated on who will be the guest performers and what to expect, the fan “dress code”, etc.

She was so excited while she unpacked the merchandise she was able to nab.

Meanwhile, my legs are aching. Twin A and I are just chilling here in our room. Prior to flopping on the bed, I went all the way to AliMall to visit the art store that I used to patronize.

I checked the Schmincke and Windsor & Newton pro grade palettes. I also looked at the Old Holland pans that I still couldn’t bring myself to buy (they’re wildly expensive). I did buy a Taklon liner brush, which had been on my Shopee shopping cart for two years.

I need to find time this week to paint.

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@lorien..rhoads

I feel so bad for her #birthratedecline #weaponizedincompentence #badhusbands #storytime #motherhoodunfiltered

♬ original sound – Lorienrhoads

Ghad. I’m much happier this way. I’ve been a single mom while married ever since so it’s basically the same minus the burden of having to take care of and accommodate a man-child in your life.

I feel bad for all of us women who are treated this way.

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We just came from watching Jerrold Tarog’s Quezon at SM Cinemas.

“I am the Philippines!” shouted Manuel L. Quezon, the country’s commonwealth president.

Very apt, that monologue he did as he was being wheeled inside the Malinta Tunnel in Corregidor has double-meaning. Quezon is the Philippines, his love for her, his grand designs on her, and the movie itself—it is a good representation of what makes the Philippines the Philippines: Everything is dirty.

This movie was creative in the way how Quezon manipulated everyone like it was a game of Trip to Jerusalem. *cue the tango music* It was comical yet dark. It showed how the Americans fueled patronage politics all over the Philippines that plagues us to this day. How Uncle Sam is starting to flex his imperialistic muscles. Quezon and Osmeña played dirty because that was the system they were operating in and the kind of system that imprisoned them.

You don’t win elections if you’re not a politico. And politicos are dirty. They have to be. That’s why Leni Robredo didn’t stand a chance, she doesn’t play politics well. It’s a dirty game of chess, a smart poker game.

I am the Philippines!

Yes, the movie is very much the Philippines. No one is a hero, no one is a villain.

Even Aguinaldo was given a small window to redeem himself at the end.

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I was in a ballroom-full of lawyers yesterday, listening to talks about tax, arbitration, cybersecurity, AI and copyright laws. All the while working on three stories for publication. One is still in editing limbo and I’m already on my leave. 🤦🏻‍♀️

What’s my agenda for today? After buying food outside to feed my brood and extended family, I will just shutter myself in my room and play games on my pc, read my books, or paint.

I’m 46. Gone were the days when my friends and I would be partying the night away. Even coffee dates are hard to schedule just to catch up with friends. I value sleep these days over going out. Keeping inner peace is my thing now.

My girls woke me up at exactly 12 midnight by hugging me while I was sleeping. I was half-awake when they greeted me Happy Birthday.

This is all what life is about: Love. I have everything I need.

Thank you, Lord, for the 46 years. I’m still healthy, I’m still strong, I’m still mentally sharp. Some of my classmates and friends have already been gone. It’s a privilege to reach this age.

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I can’t help it. Light. It creates the mood, the ambiance. I want my home to bask in a warm glow.

I attended a conference today—zero yield. To make me feel better, I went to Ikea and went straight to the lighting section. I’ve been plotting this for days.

On Thursday, I will buy materials to make myself a Christmas-themed set of curtains. I will sew them by hand—again. Creating something with my bare hands will help reduce my anxiety.

It’s Monday. I’m dead. You know, when the manager from the land of bubblegum pop is on holiday/leave, I’m not anxious. I enjoy my job. But when I know she’s there, my anxiety runs high. Then I go through anxiety attacks and I just curl up in a ball and doomscroll in my bed.

I remember hosting an ex-colleague from that bureau 8 years ago when he was here for two weeks to parachute for his publication (our sister publication that is now folded under us). He often tells me, please don’t tell YKK this, please don’t tell YKK I did that. He grew up and studied in the US so his culture is more aligned with mine than with the bureau manager. He eventually quit and transferred to a US publication that needed coverage of the DMZ. I think he’s back in the US as I saw an article tackling seafood in the West Coast of the US. That bureau lost its reporters one by one until no one is left. They haven’t hired anybody yet and it has been years since they had a reporter on the ground.

She is the problem.

It’s not my being a manager or whatnot. Yes, I have issues with some people in my team but they’re sort of manageable. It’s just that the problem is exacerbated by the kind of manager I had. Even though I have a different manager now, this manager from the land of bubblegum pop still manages to terrorize me. Our other correspondent here gets anxiety attacks as well when YKK edits her stories. She keeps minimal contact with management and courses everything through me, as her former manager.

I’m doing my best not to break down again. I don’t want to lose to someone like her. I mean, sacrificing my livelihood just because of someone like her.

But then, I had been fantasizing about retiring last night even though I still very much love my profession. Going local media is unpalatable at this point because my world will become smaller and I will develop myopia again. My world view will shrink. Then there’s the pay.

I can’t move abroad because I have kids and they’re already developing roots and long-lasting friendships. My mom is also already old and anything might happen.

I’ve been praying until I fell asleep, please Lord, tell me where to go next. I don’t know what to do anymore. I can’t pray, Lord I want this, I want that because I no longer know what I want. So please, just turn me in the right direction and I will follow.

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Tell me, how can I continue working when I have an officemate like this?!

Nights are definitely getting cooler. It was raining this morning and I had to open my front door to keep the humidity out.

I’ll change my curtains to a more Christmas-themed one after todos los santos (All Saints Day), that is if I still have the energy. I would be driving back and forth to my parents’ hometown in Batangas to attend the 1st death anniversary ceremony (babang luksa) of my aunt/godmother and to indulge my mom who wanted to visit the graves of my grandparents.

I couldn’t have a Christmas tree because of cats. I haven’t had any for five years now because I enjoy having cats more than having a tree that is put up only once a year.

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