Twins

Sushi is hiding from the twins. Photo by CallMeCreation.com

My cats, aside from wanting to be with me, go to my room during the day to escape my Demolition Twins. Here we have Sushi hiding behind my curtains. She wants to be with me but invisible to the human twins.

Why?

Because this is what they do to the cats.

Look at Kimchi’s face. ๐Ÿคฃ Photo by CallMeCreation.com
Kimchi’s taray look. Photo by CallMeCreation.com

This afternoon I attempted to finish my car registration at LTO @20th Avenue in Cubao. Ehhhhhhhhh…they started dismantling the office because they’re transferring to a new building. Ergo, I will be delayed by another day. So I went to LTO Ali Mall in Araneta Center and it turns out it’s only for drivers license renewal. ๐Ÿ˜ซ

Damn it.

It was already past 5 pm so there’s no point in going to LTO at P. Tuazon Ave or at LTO main along East Ave. I have to go to the main office tomorrow to get this over and done with.

To make my parking fee at the mall worth it, I decided to buy some stuff that I always forget to buy, like a new desktop mirror. This is my third mirror and the first two were broken by my cats. ๐Ÿˆ Talk about having a Demolition Twins 2.0

Only PHP 189, a lot cheaper than the Ikea mirror that Sushi tipped over and cracked. Photo by CallMeCreation.com

Speaking of twins, we are now having twin typhoons—and one is a super typhoon. Look at that clear eye in the middle that is fast approaching southern Japan. The more pronounced the eye is, the stronger the typhoon.

Both Tropical Depression Gardo and Super Typhoon Hinnamnor, which would be named Henry when it enters the Philippine Area of Responsibility, are unlikely to make landfall. Rappler.com

Although these may not make landfall in the Philippines, the two weather disturbances may pull each other and cause a lot of heavy rainfall as they could draw the monsoon rains from southwest towards northeast (the swirls are an indication of that). Diving could be dangerous as the currents would become stronger and more unpredictable.

Heavy rainfall is something that should be taken seriously in the Philippines, as proven by Tropical Storm Ondoy (Typhoon Ketsana) in 2009 that wreaked havoc in Metro Manila. Ketsana wasn’t even a typhoon; it was just a tropical storm based on the wind velocity. However, the amount of rainfall was unprecedented. Ondoy dumped a month’s worth of rainfall in just six hours hours (455 mm of rain within 24 hours = several months’ worth of rainfall). I remember I was about to go to my hometown that day but after reaching the subdivision gate, the floodwaters were already half my car tire. I quickly turned back. Good thing I did because a lot of people were caught off-guard by the sudden rise in floodwaters. It was a Saturday and countless people were stuck in their cars on the road. Katipunan Ave was completely submerged as Marikina River burst its banks. One reporter told me she was driving back home when she got stuck on the road because her home in Manila was like Waterworld. She spent 24 hrs in her car, I think.

So we were stranded in Cainta for days as the water reached neck-deep in our subdivision while in some parts of Cainta the water level was way above our heads. Marikina was underwater.

We tried getting out of Cainta through some back channels that were a bit dry but first we needed to push my car through the floodwaters in the subdivision. I needed to get to work because my boss shouldn’t be manning the desk alone (I was already an assistant business editor then). Because when disaster strikes, we journalists cannot NOT work.

We spent about two (or three?) weeks in my sister’s condo in Mandaluyong before the flood in Cainta subsided.

Several months after Ondoy, I still had emergency provisions in my car trunk like rain boots, food, extra clothes, flash light, emergency lamp, etc. The following year, we transferred to Quezon City and we made sure the place is never flooded. Every time it rained heavily, my anxiety levels go through the roof. This is why I always check NOAA Western Pacific satellite images to predict the weather and plan my activities accordingly. Blame Ondoy.

Hero

Was Ninoy a hero?

He was a spark.

His assassination was a miscalculation on the Marcoses’ part.

He knew he was going to be killed the moment he steps on Philippine soil. But I guess, it was a carefully calculated move on his part.

Primitivo Mijares knew he will be killed writing that book.

He was a spark.

Everyone who got imprisoned and/or killed were sparks.

And when you have multiple sparks then the gasoline tank tips overโ€ฆ You have hell.

Apparently that hell wasn’t enough to burn the Marcoses. Lucifer kicked them out because he will be without a throne if they lingered more.

So now we have them back.

Today we commemorate the assassination of Ninoy at the Manila International Airport (now Ninoy Aquino International Airport). This government wants to change its name back to MIA as part of their historical revisionism. Those who are not poisoned by the Marcoses and their money remember.


At 6:30 am this morning my older sister and I walked to one of the subdivisions outside the university campus to buy food from the pop-up weekend market.

Good thing it didnโ€™t rain. Photo by CallMeCreation.com
I guess our eyes were hungrier than our stomachs. We bought a lot. Photo by CallMeCreation.com
We bought some sourdough bread and sourdough pizza. They were pricey but good. Photo by CallMeCreation.com
Also bought some green products like handmade soaps, shampoo bars and reusable feminine pads for me and the girls. I started using cloth napkins last year but the shampoo bars was just a new thing for me. After using one of Human Natureโ€™s shampoo bars for two weeks, I noticed that my hairfall was lesser compared to when I was still using the Korean shampoo I regularly bought. I hope that this will solve my thinning hair problem. Photo by CallMeCreation.com

After taking our haul back home (burning around 175 kcal), we walked towards the heart of the campus to buy fresh milk and yoghurt again. I saw these mushroom chips but my goodness, this will make uric acid shoot through the roof.

I love mushrooms but my joints donโ€™t like them. Photo by CallMeCreation.com
Unkept front yard. Photo by CallMeCreation.com

My mother is quite ambitious. Once upon a time she was on an orchid shopping binge, buying all the orchids she fancied and had them mounted on driftwood to mimic the natural habitat of epiphytes. But then sheโ€™s really not a gardener so she just left it to the househelp to maintain it for her. However, gardening is not a priority in this household.

Even though this side of my momโ€™s property is not included in my future domain, I told my mom I am commandeering this garden because none of her 3 other children are exhibiting any interest in it. No one protested. They canโ€™t even bothered by it. My sisters do not even like having animals to take care of.

I will plant a lot of roses, yellow bells, and other ornamental plants. Edible plants will be planted in between, like herbs and some salad greens.

The garden that will be legally mine will be this:

Cicadas are having a concert
I went to the balcony to sketch while I listened to the cicadas and other forest sounds. Photo by CallMeCreation.com
The light was already dying. Photo by CallMeCreation.com
I couldnโ€™t finish because mosquitoes were already eating me alive. Photo by CallMeCreation.com

The following are part of my photo dump from yesterday:

If youโ€™re late for class, this becomes the walkway of shame if you were an underclassman. The high school seniorsโ€™ classrooms were just on the right side of this walkway. Most seniors I knew back then often looked out the windows when bored. Which was often. ๐Ÿคฃ But if you happened to be a high school senior yourself, your classmates/batchmates would clap their hands and rain you with catcalls. ๐Ÿ˜‚๐Ÿ˜‚๐Ÿ˜‚
This, my friends, is the walkway to my home. I was so naive before. Some boys would walk beside me and chat while I was going homeโ€ฆand it would take some time before I realized I was โ€œbeing walked homeโ€ by a boy. Hahahaha! Some would ask if they could go under my umbrella because they didnโ€™t bring any. One day a boy I was crushing on often walked me home, especially after theater rehearsals… He is now a happy gay man. HAHAHAHAHAHAHA! I knew something was wrong. I had always been a fairy godmother. HOHOHOHOHO! I just donโ€™t know why gay men were/are still attracted to me. LOL.

Making myself feel at home again

Iโ€™ve been so disconnected to this place for a long time. Maybe because I wanted to stay away from my family while I was with J. I distanced myself from my home because I didnโ€™t know at that time what lies ahead. Where will my future be? So I was already training myself to detach from the safe and familiar.

I walked this morning around the campus for some exercise and to buy fresh milk (the real fresh milk) and some yoghurt. I walked through the former โ€œdirt roadโ€ adjacent to our high schoolโ€™s former building.

The fire exit where I used to get to the roof to skip Literature class. Photo by CallMeCreation.com

This complex is now occupied by the Math Department and my high school transferred off-campus to a new building complex. This fire exit was my escape from the oppressive Literature class when I was in my third year in high school. The teacher that used to handle that class had put me down so much that I never once forgotten how bad I really felt when she did that. I was compared to my siblings and she basically said I didnโ€™t amount to anything compared to them.

So guess what, Ms. A? It seemed like amounted to SOMETHING that you didnโ€™t even imagine I could ever be.

The quadrangle is now so overgrown. Photo by CallMeCreation.com

This side is just a third of our high school building (now Math Dept). This quadrangle was where bands used to jam. The concrete stage can no longer be seen because of the overgrown weeds. Thereโ€™s a sign outside of this complex that says this will be reconstructed (or torn down???) to give way to the new Registrar building.

Umali Freedom Park. Photo by CallMeCreation.com

I walked around this oval because it was a nice morning.

Mussaenda in full bloom. It thrives during the rainy season. Photo by CallMeCreation.com
The kapok tree that spews cotton during the summer months. It used to be just a sapling when I was still a student. Photo by CallMeCreation.com
Choco fresh milk and coffee milk. Photo by CallMeCreation.com
Yoghurt. Photo by CallMeCreation.com
Little children playing football. Thatโ€™s where I used to play when the lower field is too muddy for the football to roll. Photo by CallMeCreation.com
A nice picnic spot. This used to be a place where some fraternity rumbles started. Stupid. Photo by CallMeCreation.com
The chamber of torture. Photo by CallMeCreation.com

This classroom was where I had one of my least favorite subjects of my life, Plane Trigonometry. I hated it with a passion.

The Humanities Steps. Photo by CallMeCreation.com

During my undergrad years, this was the Humanities Building and its steps were once the hangout of the Communication Arts majors, who happened to be (more often than not) the rich kids of the campus or those who are also more fashionable and the party kids. Mere mortals like me back then wouldnโ€™t dare sit on these steps. Like โ€œhey, you canโ€™t sit here. Youโ€™re not as cool as the rest of us.โ€ I used to sit on the benches inside while waiting for my next class. More often than not, those were occupied by the social science majors, not as hoity-toity as the CommArts people.

The Biological Sciences wing. Photo by CallMeCreation.com

I literally grew up here. After classes in elementary, I would walk from my school to go to my momโ€™s office or lab here to wait for her so we can go home together (back when we lived off-campus). I played every afternoon here and the field beside this was where I used to play with the children of other faculty members. We used to catch dragonflies and play with freshly cut grass there. Now the molecular biology building sits there.

In my undergrad years, I used to sit on these steps and also on the concrete benches around this wing because I had a lot of biology subjects then (I thought of pursuing environmental science journalism, thatโ€™s why I majored in science communication then). I also waited for my crush to pass by every Tues and Thurs at 3 pm. He was a biology major. My friends and I would wait at these steps so I could have a glimpse of him. Hahahaha! I donโ€™t know if he was one of my momโ€™s students but most of the pre-med students didnโ€™t take her courses.

The concrete bench where I used to sit and review my notes before going to my Botany class. Photo by CallMeCreation.com
I haunted this area for 20 yearsโ€”from elementary until my undergrad years. Photo by CallMeCreation.com

There are three four wings in this building complex: the biology institute, plant pathology, entomology/zoology, and molecular bio. I ran around the corridors of these wings when I was a kid and I remember encountering pressure cooker-type autoclaves outside the labs, hissing angrily at me. I was often afraid the clamps would suddenly pop and hit me on my face or temple when the steam became too much for them to handle. Until today I am still afraid of autoclaves.

This used to be a well-kept garden. Photo by CallMeCreation.com

In between the wings were gardens. I used to play pretend here, like it was my secret garden and I was in my own fantasy world, weaving stories inside my head while I waited for my mom to finish with work. Itโ€™s quite disheartening to see this fall into this state. Well, what can you expect after two years of no one going in here?

The college where my brother is dean now. Photo by CallMeCreation.com
There was an ongoing photo shoot when I took this and the guy seems annoyed at my intrusion.
Cosmos, my birth flower. Photo by CallMeCreation.com
The flower named after the female anatomy in Tagalog. Heeheehee! Photo hy CallMeCreation.com
Mariang Banga. According to local ghost stories, this statue moves and Maria carries her clay pot in different positions. Photo by CallMeCreation.com
This used to be a swampland. Every time it rained heavily, the rainwater got stranded here and this entire area will get flooded since it was just grassland back then. Photo by CallMeCreation.com
They are renovating that park in front of the Humanities building and make it similar to the one we have in UP Diliman. Photo by CallMeCreation.com

Itโ€™s nice going down the memory lane today. All these reminded of me why I called this home. Why I feel safe here and why I also think my girls will be freer here. Today I let Twin A walk around the campus by herself. Itโ€™s about time anyway.

Thatโ€™s why my older sister felt at home in Brisbane, in UQ campus. She said the vibes are similar and both are laid back. People here are more outdoorsy, like in UQ.

End of an era

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. ๐Ÿ˜‚

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

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 ๐Ÿ˜‚. 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 ๐Ÿ˜‚๐Ÿ˜‚๐Ÿ˜‚๐Ÿ˜‚๐Ÿ˜‚. 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. ๐Ÿ˜‚ 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

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. ๐Ÿ˜ญ

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 ๐Ÿ˜ญ

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.