Central and Southern Philippines need us

This is reminiscent of Typhoon Haiyan, a Category 5 typhoon that ravaged central Philippines in 2013. I covered the disaster and drove down to ground zero where there was so much death and destruction. I had PTSD after that coverage and it is known in the journalism community that covering disasters is also like being in a war zone. It messes up your brain.

We did our grocery shopping tonight for our household and for the victims of Typhoon Odette (which became Cat 5 upon landfall in Siargao). I bought boxes of Century Tuna, boxes of instant cup noodles, boxes of rubbing alcohol, packs of 3-in-1 coffee, sachets of shampoo and toothpaste, bottles of mineral water.

Photo by CallMeCreation.com

Based on my experience covering disasters, victims in evacuation sites do not have the means to cook. At most all they may have are sources of hot water so ready-to-eat stuff like canned tuna and cup noodles are best during the first few days after a disaster. Hygiene kits are also important. Clean water is also a priority.

Then the girls and I went straight to Leni Robredo Volunteer Center to drop off our donations.

Some of our donations. Photo by CallMeCreation.com
Photo by CallMeCreation.com
Sacks of rice. Photo by CallMeCreation.com
Volunteer orientation. Photo by CallMeCreation.com
My girls. Photo by CallMeCreation.com

I couldn’t volunteer because Ate C already left for Tacloban today and her grandpa’s house was destroyed by the typhoon so she needed to be there to help in rebuilding it. Although the girls could already fend for themselves, I fear accidents may happen like microwaving metallic objects 🤦🏻‍♀️

They wouldn’t push through with the trip to their paternal grandpa given the dire situation in Visayas. They don’t have power there because a lot of transmission lines are down. Many vehicles are stranded at the ports and the seas are still violent. Cebu and Siargao airports are destroyed. I fear for a friend in Cebu, I hope he and his family are ok.

Bohol is devastated. No clear idea how Panglao is now but that island is so flat that I expect that everything was washed out. My heart breaks for that little paradise.

Panglao island. Photo by CallMeCreation.com

I will be donating again after my salary is deposited before Christmas.

https://www.instagram.com/therealangellocsin/p/CXlmz6QlFYf/?utm_medium=copy_link

First death anniversary

Nabe.Photo by CallMeCreation.com

We made ourselves happy by going to Bijin Nabe at Greenhills. It’s still delicious like the last time we have been there two years ago. The last time the girls went there was with J and they barely ate the hotpot and just went for the karaage. This time they got so full–mushrooms, radish, and all–from eating too much of the the hotpot that we couldn’t finish the extra collagen soup and ramen so we had them packed for takeout.

Mmmm. Chicken and its collagen soup. Photo by CallMeCreation.com

Then we proceeded to the gadgets section of the Theater Mall to do business.

Selling my iPad 7 and having my iPad 9 installed with a tempered glass screen protector. Photo by CallMeCreation.com

We went around Virra Mall to look for keyboards but it turned out that they were too expensive for Twin A. She had self-restraint and didn’t want to spend on something she really doesn’t need. She’s saving up for a camera.

We were so preoccupied that I almost forgot that today is my first death anniversary. I only got reminded of it when a friend from high school was telling me she is breaking up with her partner because he could not commit, saying some stupid thing like being traumatized by the soon to be ex-wife. (I don’t understand why he couldn’t divorce his wife when divorce is not that hard to get in Singapore unlike here where there is no divorce and annulment takes years to be granted, if you have enough money).

I told her it’s hogwash. I was in the same boat as this guy is but I never made an excuse like that when in fact I am really traumatized by my ex and that marriage. But I gave my all and didn’t hold back. I loved J unconditionally and did not hesitate with committing. It was he who didn’t want to commit.

I told my friend that he didn’t love her enough. Better walk away.

She said yeah, he didn’t want to put a label on whatever they had. He neither wanted to commit. She said, what are we, fuck buddies?

Looks like it, I said. Then I told her:

R was an instrument for you to realize what was important to you just as God showed me what kind of love I deserve. The unconditional love I gave J is the kind of love that I should have and not just the loose change that I received from him and from the girls’ dad. Because I grew up not knowing what a healthy love looks like. So in a way God let J into my life to make me realize that even if I forever remain single, it’s ok. Because I learned now what unconditional love is. It just so happened it was me who gave it instead of receiving it.

It’s kinda sad, right? But I’m still healing, a year after. It still hurts, I have to admit but I know it always will. It’s just a matter of managing that hurt and the degree by which I will allow myself to be affected by it.

He has moved on a long time ago. He started messaging that girl in April, so I was told. Four months after we broke up. How convenient.

I hope I won’t get triggered after today. I’m so tired of riding this roller coaster ride of emotions.

I’m getting better. I will be ok.

Dreaming of books

I wish I have a huge wall in my future flat to house a big bookshelf like this. But I have to content myself with a few shelves scattered all over the place because I need to prioritize windows over the need for bookshelves. Light vs books. We’re not even talking about keeping the flat cool because the two rooms and main living area would be airconditioned.

But for a writer/editor, not having enough books in my house is hurting my brain 😜 They’re sort of my security blanket. My escape from this uncertain world. They were my friends when I withdrew from society.

I’ve swapped our rooms so it makes more sense. But when I showed this to the girls, they protested and they want me to bring back the loft beds and want the smaller room so that there would be less area to clean. 🤷🏻‍♀️ Well then, if that’s what they want, I will swap again and retain the original plan drawn by the contractor. I will have a bigger cave all to myself.

My fridge finally arrived and it’s much bigger than my old one. Twin A, who is over 4 ft or nearly 5 ft, stood beside it. The freezer has 3 shelves so it’s roomy enough and it can fit a month’s worth of meat and fish and other frozen food. I can finally lessen the frequency of my grocery run.

Photo by CallMeCreation.com
Photo by CallMeCreation.com

Tomorrow is Greenhills day so I can sell my iPhone and iPad 7 as I got myself a new iPad 9, 256GB. I can look at keyboards and pen for the iPad so I can also make it my alternative laptop when I travel–for emergencies. I’ve experienced traveling for my holiday and some work emergency sprung up because some deal is closing or whatnot. I don’t want to be lugging around a heavy laptop when I go to the beach or I go roaming in Vietnam or Cambodia.

I need to cheer myself up because tomorrow midnight will be my first death anniversary.

The universe is giving back to me

Christmas tree at the lobby of EDSA Shangri-la Manila. Photo by CallMeCreation.com

I attended my first face-to-face presscon this afternoon in almost two years. Two years. That long. I no longer know how it is to meet new CEOs–I forgot to bring my business cards. I got a nice story out of that and more.

Since I will be on leave starting this Friday, the new meetings I will be having are already lined up for January. I will be having a very busy 2022.

I’m blessed this year despite the hardships I’ve been through, physically, emotionally, and mentally. Good things have been coming my way. ❤️

I don’t know if this is escitalopram talking but I find life nowadays peaceful. Life is beautiful.

One day I’ll look back on 2020-2021 and tell myself, Yeah you survived that.

Someday I will be ok.

Lucky

I attended this online Christmas party and my girls were in the background. When they were drawing the names for the grand prize, Twin I started her rain dance for luck.

And they say having twins is lucky.

I won an iPhone 13!

https://www.instagram.com/p/CUvQ2nEgOIu/?utm_medium=copy_link

But I won’t use it since iPhones have short battery lives. I used to have iPhones but I gave them up because of that and switched to Android. Plus I need a phone with dual SIM slots because I need to have my Starhub SIM activated again since I would travel to Singapore frequently. I have already lined up meetings with some sources.

I will be selling the iPhone in Greenhills to pay for my new fridge and then some. Maybe a nice bathtub to go with my tiny house which I will be building next month? A 50″ TV to go with my new house? I have so many things to plan for.

I’m getting excited about planning for my house. I’m drawn these days to the aesthetics of Anna Page.

Tomorrow I will be driving to Ortigas to meet and have lunch with a CEO. Hopefully I can get one story out of this. This will also give me a chance to work in a coffee shop I can finish the analysis piece due tomorrow.

Four days left

Whoppeeee! Four working days left before I can take my longgggg holiday.

Since traffic is horrible, I’m wondering how we can spend 17-20 Dec peacefully at home. Twin I will surely nag me about going somewhere…

I missed my cats so I made them lose their minds once again 🤣. They didn’t leave me last night and made sure they disrupted my sleep until 4 am; that’s when I threw them out of my room. Those damned cats made sure I was always awake 🤦🏻‍♀️

I conducted a one-on-one training with our new reporter the entire day. I have been making inroads in Vietnam and I hope I can fly there to touch base with my contacts and the new reporter. I have to be more hands-on now.


I remember years of not being able to have a long Christmas holiday or any kind of holiday because I had a hard time turning off the tap. I put so much value in my work that my profession has become my identity. I had a very unhealthy relationship with work. I didn’t let myself rest because news never rested. It burned me out so much that I had tried quitting the profession three times. And it keeps pulling me back.

Many of my colleagues will say that journalism feels like a natural extension of being a curious human in the world, which makes it harder yet to unlink our lives from our professions. Traits like curiosity or doggedness can correlate, or predispose us to how we decide to spend our time professionally — and in other arenas of life — rather than the other way around (i.e. our job imparting traits on us that make us who we are).

When I started realizing the distinction between who I am and what I do to earn a living, I started to draw better boundaries around the latter. I no longer work weekends or cover news. (I have two Post-it’s in my office I read every day: “I don’t have to do everything;” “I will not be at the whims of the news cycle.”) And I would argue that those boundaries haven’t made me feel any less of a journalist: I can be committed to telling accurate, illuminating stories when I put work in a box of its own.

Wudan Yan, Poynter.org

The above passages are true of me: I always filter the world through the lenses of a journalist that oftentimes I forget I am a human with feelings and not a slave to the news cycle. I remember working until 3 am because of some breaking news or events that needed to be posted. I didn’t allow myself to be human because there is always the expectation that what I was doing is public service.

Journalism fundamentally trains us to be more observant, analytical and critical of the world around us. When I first entered the field, some of my colleagues joked that journalists are great at understanding others and their problems, but are terrible at recognizing their own. What if we turned that journalistic lens inward to reflect on how we identify, and how those identifiers serve us — or not?

Wudan Yan, Poynter.org

However good I was doing analysis of events or stories, I could not analyze my own self until my world burned itself. I had to step back and disassociate myself.

Now I found the perfect way to manage this problem: Cover stories that you are not passionate about. That’s why I no longer want to cover national/political events. High finance is hardly a passionate topic, unless I am venture capitalist or Warren Buffet who gets his high whenever he closes a deal.

That’s the secret how I lasted this long in this current job. It doesn’t suck the life out of me.

“There’s professional identity and then there’s personal identity, (which) is tied up in the way that you see your purpose, mission and character,” Usher said. “Those things are distinct, and it’s probably helpful to see it that way.”