Horror story

Posted on March 6, 2022 by admin

*Gas is very expensive. Photo by CallMeCreation.com*

This is a horror story all too real. I feel bad for the jeep, taxi, Grab and all delivery guys out there who are very reliant on gas for their livelihood. The middle class is already hurting too but it’s the little guys who are bleeding right now.

Aside from food costs, some bourgeoisie concerns are hitting me right now. The price of cat little went up by PHP 50 per 10 L so it’s now PHP 300. It’s a 17% increase. Cat food (Special Cat by Monge) rose by I think PHP 10-20 per kg. Earlier I was thinking of going to Cartimar Pet Center in Pasay to get wholesale prices but I decided against it because it is 12 km away from my house. But now that the prices have shot up, I think going to Pasay is going to be worth it in the end.

I think I’m going to be shocked by the prices of veggies on Tuesday when I go to UP to buy our weekly supply.

*Yes, I bought a new laser pointer to drive the cats crazy again. Photo by CallMeCreation.com*

Having pets is expensive and it’s a life-long commitment. You don’t get a dog or a cat just because—and then give it away or resell it because you’re moving away or you grew tired of them. That’s just too cruel. The pets bond with you. These cats look to me as their mommy (a hairless mommy cat) and being abandoned by a second time would truly break their hearts. Last night Kimchi was waiting for us by the window when we arrived from Makati.

*Their scratching post that *I just repaired tonight*. Photo by CallMeCreation.com*

It’s like being a parent to real kids. You provide them with a stimulating environment so they can thrive. That’s the reason why I don’t want to get a dog in the city. I want my dogs to roam around freely in my yard and they can run whenever they want. When I still lived in my hometown, it was not a problem since they had like 200 sqm of front and backyard all to themselves. Vets are plenty since the College of Veterinary Medicine is just right there. The dean was my friend’s mom so getting treatment at the vet hospital was not difficult. I had a number of vet friends that I can call for pet medical emergencies.

When I was about to submit my application to UP, my dad urged me to consider taking vetmed since I had a menagerie and he thought it’s where my interests lie. I briefly thought about it but I could not imagine dealing with animals day in and day out vs writing and chasing stories 24/7. I chose the latter. Plus I don’t like organic chemistry and there was no way I can avoid it when I take vetmed. If it’s any consolation, my mom also struggled with organic chemistry in her undergrad years. She took it twice. I aced my general chemistry during my undergrad but anything beyond that did not make sense to me. That’s why I struggled with some parts of limnology when we got to the part of hydrogen sulfide toxicity levels and fish kills because I couldn’t map out properly the chemical reactions especially in aquaculture-heavy bodies of water where the rate of eutrophication is high. I understand the concept but when we go to the nitty-gritty of it…hah! Computing for dissolved oxygen at the bottom of Taal Lake was a nightmare for me in one particular exam where I failed.

Anyway, I digressed.

I’m finding ways now how to reduce the sodium content of my cats’ food so I tried buying chicken necks and boiled them for the cats. The two critters just sniffed at it and trotted off. They like fried fish though. Our Manila reporter’s dog had surgery last week because of kidney stones. Some vet friends said some pet foods have high sodium content so sometimes it helps if we vary the food of our pets.

Ms Butingting strikes again.

I thought the bluetooth hardware of this old gaming laptop was a goner. I searched for solutions on the interwebs and experimented with some software updates…in the process I lost connection for my dual screen monitors…IN THE END IT PAID OFF. I have my Bluetooth connection back. And the monitors back as well. I was afraid I would have to open the laptop and search if there was a physical disconnection somewhere. 😰 Whew! I was able to solve it. No need to rush having a new desktop computer assembled when we have semiconductor supply issues now.

While I was driving to and from Tiendesitas this afternoon and evening, I was thinking that I really don’t have to enroll/take reviews to get a CIIA if I’m not too keen on shifting industries. I would just make myself miserable just because I want to be busy to recover from a heartbreak. I could just enroll in art classes and go back to photography to distract myself. My colleague-friend said she took CFA exams because she figured she can’t be a journalist forever if she wants to stay in Singapore and not go back home to HK (because there’s really nothing to go back home to there now) and it was a good way to be productive to recover from Jaded.

Meanwhile, I could just become a communications consultant while immersing myself again in the academe—if needed—since I know this industry like the back of my hand. I already have some kind of expertise in it now and at this age, I cannot be a half-baked something. Like a Jill-of-all-trades, master of nothing.

My older sister just had a short course with a known local visual artist and there you go—she was able to mount an exhibit in 2018. She didn’t change careers (she’s still an economist with a PhD in a related niche industry) but going into visual arts provided her some kind of extension of her personality. I could just do that.

I could do pottery classes. I liked Ugu Bigyan’s ceramics when I first visited his place in 2000. I think it’s one art form that could reduce me to tears if I try to learn it.

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I’ll just dabble in different art forms to keep me busy. I’ll just try to be Rajiv Surendra and try my hand at everything that looks interesting. Then build an art studio/workshop at my backyard when we finally settle into my hometown.

Yeah, I don’t have to take CIIA just because it sounds cool. I didn’t care for titles anyway.

Badassery

Posted on February 25, 2022 by admin

*Repairing Twin I’s wobbly computer table with Ate C holding the table steady. Photo by CallMeCreation.com*

Today I did some minor carpentry jobs, mainly building Ikea furniture and repairing old study/computer desks of the kids. After a few hours, I was able to corral their overflowing stuff in neat drawers and gave a new lease on life to old furniture.

*Some accomplishment today. Photo by CallMeCreation.com*

Some people (like J) just don’t appreciate domestic goddess and newsroom badassery rolled into one person. One day someone will.

Today is the 36th anniversary of first EDSA People Power revolution that ousted dictator Ferdinand Marcos and his family from power and the country. It’s surprising that we are still allowed to commemorate this day given that how this Duterte administration panders to the Marcoses.

In 2011, while I was heavily pregnant with the girls, I fired up my my laptop and started writing. This essay is still very much true today. (I can’t remember if I had this published by my news outfit in 2012-2014).

25 YEARS AND COUNTING

I remember the radio blaring for 24 hours day after day. I could smell fear in the air. I was just six-going-seven at that time but I knew something earth-shaking was happening. My mother was glued to the only radio we had in the house then while my father was missing. I didn’t know where he was at that time but I just had an inkling that he was somewhere dangerous. That must have explained my mother’s anxiety at that time.

TV then was no good. A few days ago I watched on our mala-cabinet TV a bunch of people walking out of a hall. A big, big hall.

I had nightmares of those nights when Radyo Veritas invaded my sleep. There were so many voices. They were praying the rosary over and over.

Some weeks before that, my cousin Ina and I had a fight. She ran around their house shouting “Marcos! Marcos! Marcos pa rin!” I countered with “Marcos, imperyalista, diktador, tuta!” Typical response from a daughter of two tibak parents. I didn’t know what that exactly meant—but I knew it was bad. I thought it was worse than saying putanginamo. Marcos was a bad man. My cousin said she liked Marcos because she liked the color red. Marcos’ party colors then were blue and red, if I remember it correctly. I liked yellow because it was cheerful to look at. I held up my hand that formed the letter “L” over my head. A fight broke out and tears and snot were all over the place.

My sister K, a year younger than I am, was caught in the middle of two opposing forces that were tearing each other’s hair. She could not take my side because she just loved Imelda. Whenever the Madame is on the TV screen, K would come rushing in front of it and gaze at her. She loved the pomp, the glamour, and the beauty that this woman exuded. She admitted to me that even today she is still fascinated with the woman. Who wouldn’t be? Imelda is so out of touch with reality that you wonder where in the world did she get the idea that she had to be constantly beautiful to help the poor Filipinos feel good about themselves. Then there’s this thing about Apple computers transforming into pacman…Oh just watch Ramona Diaz’s docu film Imelda. But I have to admit that she is indeed handsome and charming. I couldn’t take my eyes off her when I saw her some years ago at Shangri-La mall, flanked by two body guards. Then I saw her in Congress while I was covering a budget hearing. The woman glided past us. No, she didn’t walk. She glided. Like a queen. So regal. So Imeldific.

A self-proclaimed queen that brought the country to its knees. Like Marie-Antoinette.

My family had been collecting copies of Malaya, Mr & Ms. and the occasional Time magazines at our backyard. We had no other periodico at that time. My father said everything else was a big fat lie. I didn’t understand it then. But it was there, at our backyard, where my romance with newspapers started.

Nerves were frayed that fateful February. We didn’t know where my father was exactly at that time. There was no way of contacting us. There was talk of tanks, soldiers, and guns. Is he dead? Is he alive? What is happening? Those were the things that ran through my head.

Then one day people came running out of their houses and spilled out in to the street. There was joyous chanting. K said there was a motorcade of some sort but she chose to stay at home that time. She was sulking. She was still rooting for the Madame. It’s funny how Imelda could mesmerize a five-year old kid.

It was only later I realized that my missing father was there somewhere with the thousands of Filipinos hand-in-hand facing down tanks and the nozzles of guns. It was only later that I realized that the Marcos-imperyalista-diktador-tuta had been rescued by the US government and whisked away to Hawaii.

Magkaisa. Kapit-bisig.

Everything had changed that day.

Well not so much.

The promise of change did not happen. Same oligarchs ruling their fiefdoms all over the country. Same poverty. Same patronage politics. We’re still the laggard of Asia.

I had been to the bukid, to Mendiola—everywhere—hoping change would soon come. As a young professional in November 2000, I had marched and slept on the streets of Mendiola with students to oust a corrupt president. I stormed EDSA after seeing that odious Tessie Oreta dancing in the background during the envelope opening brouhahaha in Senate in hopes of continuing the spirit of the first People Power. Hoping that this time true change may happen. It is the new generation’s responsibility of keeping the fire in the torch alive.

But change did not come.

I know I shouldn’t be hard on us. Change doesn’t happen overnight. Rome was not built in one day. But knowing that we are back to where we were before is tearing me apart. It pains me that people had become apathetic or ambivalent. We grew weary of People Power. Of EDSA. We had let a woman rob us right before our eyes. We had let her minions run free and plunder our country. We had let them desecrate the meaning of People Power.

You voted for a president because of a legacy he carries on his shoulders. That is indicative that Filipinos are still chasing that dream, that thing that has been eluding us for 25 years.

Change.

How could we have change when only the surface has been wiped out and replaced with cosmetically enhanced actors whose footprints have already graced the same stage they had been dancing on for years?

I wanted to tell our friends in the Middle East about the cautionary tale that is the Philippines. But I don’t want to be a party pooper. Let them have this euphoria, even for a moment.

How could I not feel this way when I know children somewhere in the mountains of Zambales could not go to school because of they do not have teachers? How could I not be jaded when students had to walk a whole day just to come to school? How could I not cry when I know people rushed to the provincial hospital of Samar had to buy their own cotton and their own syringe if they wanted to be treated without contracting other diseases? Or better yet they would rather risk the 2.5-hour travel to Tacloban in order for them to get decent medical attention. How could I not feel helpless when somebody dies everyday fighting the system, fighting for his right as a free citizen of this country, fighting to live?

I remember my boss telling me that maintaining news independence is an everyday struggle. You pick small battles and try to bring that to the table, day after day after day after day… You cannot stop. There is no room to be weary. The same goes for freedom and change. You have to fight for it everyday.

But I am a Filipino. I am resilient. I am patient. I have in my hands the power to change the world.

Because I am a Filipino.

I’m too emotionally exhausted at this hour to type what my friend (since elementary) have talked about. She’s the one who transferred to Singapore and is in a fucked up situation. She called me up while she’s on a cruise and told me how messed up she is. I didn’t mince words and told her, yeah, I forgot to tell you that the last time we talked.

Maybe when I can’t sleep tonight I’ll try to process and write this down.

Company over

Posted on February 19, 2022 by admin

The girls started having friends over again after two years of being by themselves. For dinner we had Korean BBQ because that’s the easiest to serve when you have company.

Hopefully, the kids will finally have face-to-face classes this coming school year. A lot of kids are having a hard time coping. My college-age nephew is one of them.

Because I didn’t take any sleeping aid last night (just to try), I was wide awake until 5 am today 🤦🏻‍♀️ and I wasn’t able to take a nap so I’m like… Whatever.

*Flowers. I’ve always liked them. Photo by CallMeCreation.com*

After 4 hours of sleep, I finally gave up and started attending to my container garden at 9 am. It keeps me grounded, it is meditative, and it gives me things to look forward to everyday. While I’m trying to fix my body clock (I can’t bike if I lack sleep or else might get into an accident), domestic and quiet pursuits like gardening would have to suffice.

I fear I’m becoming Emily Dickinson…Becoming more of a recluse as time goes by and whose existence is only proven by correspondences. She has lived the last decades of her life puttering around her home, never married, and shunned social interaction to the point that she spoke to visitors through the door.

Or I’m becoming like Sandra Bullock in the movie The Net. Come to think of it, I am living that movie. My colleagues for the most part have not met me personally or those who have known me have only seen me a few times in a year. I go in and out of our offices in different parts of the world without so much of a whisper. I do everything online, even ordering groceries and my medical consultations. I rarely have cash in my wallet nowadays, everything is paid by credit card or via QR codes/e-wallets.

Friends from 20-plus years ago find it strange that I’m so domesticated that they could no longer associate the hard-drinking, hard-smoking party girl of yore. I drove a truck then and my friends and I would park it somewhere and we would be drinking at the back of the truck. There was a time that I was so hammered that I drove home in first gear and a friend on the passenger seat was guiding me because I was already blacking out. 😂

Oh the folly of youth. You always feel like you’re immortal.

I was in this phase when I met the girls’ dad. The ex-husband didn’t think well of me before. I even wondered why he even bothered. It was really all a mistake, right from the very start. I stuck with the relationship to prove something probably. Pressure from my father probably. Pressure from my mother probably. Some friends from the industry asked why did it feel like as the date of my wedding grew closer, I looked like a bride who is about to face the firing squad?

I no longer bothered analyzing things. It’s done. It’s over. 17 years wasted. As Twin I said, it wasn’t all that bad; you had us. Yes, that’s the best part of that.

So it’s like I’m living a new life. I’m now the hybrid of my sensitive teenage me and the adrenalin-junkie 20s me. Let’s see what’s in store for the hybrid me.

Mending fences

Posted on February 15, 2022 by admin

I had a very good guy friend (if there was a best guy friend, he was it) in college and we were close. He was there every heartbreak I had. He was protective of us girls in the group. I often had drinking sessions with him. Right after we graduated he confessed: that he liked me from the beginning, on the first day our block met. He said he was in love with me and he took the same classes I took so that we would be classmates. I was so clueless then; I had no idea. And the reason why he didn’t pursue me was I had a boyfriend who was his fraternity brother. When I was free, he was in a relationship with our common friend. He said it was not meant to be.

So I brushed it off and it was like my rejection of him. I did not entertain him.

But his girlfriend knew she was just playing second fiddle to me and was very insecure of me. Since I was also her friend, I chose to cut the ties with both of them so they can live in peace. I had since transferred to Manila.

However, he was being weird and was sending me weird messages on YM and emails. I had to lie that I was already married (but I wasn’t) but the message got warped and it made a whole lot of mess, to make the long story short. His girlfriend was so angry that she called me names and other stuff on the phone. I don’t know why she was angry when I was the one who was already cutting her bf off. So this gf and her bestfriend slandered me online and so on and so forth. Later, things soured between the couple that they split. This guy friend was so angry with me (and I don’t know why when he was the one who was being weird) and that finally burned our bridges.

Years later, the former gf and her bestfriend apologized to me and said it was jealousy and deceit by the guy that propelled her to do what they had done to me. For me it was a non-issue anymore since they were so far removed from my reality…I mean I was leading a very different life and they no longer mattered.

A few months ago, this guy friend requested to follow me on Instagram. I was glad that he no longer has issues with me. Today, this guy friend reached out to me on IG and asked about my kids that he often sees on my posts. I also commented on his kids and we were talking about kids, his wife, raising children, etc. It was like nothing happened. We are finally mending fences after 20 years. He said when we come back to our hometown, he’ll bring his kids to meet mine.

You know, when the friendship is true, it doesn’t matter how far and how long you had been away from each other. You will still be friends again at some point. Because you respected each other and if you hurt each other in the past, in the end it won’t matter anymore because the ties that bound you are still there.

I can’t say the same for romantic relationships that were built on lies and deceit.

*My little pink rose. Photo by CallMeCreation.com*

This rose struggled but against all odds it bloomed again. It started out as plain pink rose but now it bloomed into a variegated mini rose.

*They lived! Photo by CallMeCreation.com*

My flowers survived days after their transplant/re-potting. Yey! The real culprit in many of my plants’ death is the root rot because the water didn’t drain well. The planter’s holes were blocked so I spent almost an hour just punching holes in this one and changed soil. Now I have to condition it with humic acid fertilizer that I buy online. This was effective in helping my dormant roses and mums flower again.

*My garden at night. Photo by CallMeCreation.com*

My goal is to fill every nook and cranny of this small courtyard with flowers before we leave this apartment next year. I want this to bloom all year-round.

Slowly. One step at a time. I am building myself up again, mending fences with the past, and forging a new future with new self-respect, love, and appreciation for myself and for whatever I have. Because as I said before, all I want is to have peace and be content.

Time check: 3:42 am. Damn, I only slept for 30 mins. I could no longer go back to sleep. 🤦🏻‍♀️

Self-care

Posted on February 14, 2022 by admin

This came via Grab I think, sent by my corp comm friends. Unfortunately, I’m still not allowed to drink alcohol so I’ll keep it until I’m off alprazolam.

*While working. Photo by CallMeCreation.com*

I have lighted the lavender-scented candle for good vibes because I’m still working past 8 pm. Rushed a billion-dollar deal story and did some admin stuff. I don’t know if I can continue with my daily art journal entry. I just started a new one but hmmm…I can’t figure out how to continue with this. I need inspiration.

*Maybe I need to get out. Photo by CallMeCreation.com*

My friend M said he likes how I am healing myself (gardening, crafts, drawings, cooking) and friends could see that via Instagram. I told him that it’s nice that my work is very flexible and I can station myself anywhere. I can spend a week in Singapore if I want to or a week in Vietnam to escape. But not right now since Covid is still nasty. I have a few moments for myself for hobbies. I’m stabilizing now that I found that melatonin is helping me have better sleep quality. I should take 6 mg before 9 pm so I won’t have to wait until 5 am to fall asleep. Although I still get awakened at 4 am…and I don’t freaking know why.

As part of my healing process, I am purging one of the fondest memories I had of Valentine’s day. I am letting this go. This event may be part of the play-acting to manipulate me.

*Victoria Peak at sunset. Photo by CallMeCreation.com*

*Overlooking Hong Kong. Photo by CallMeCreation.com*

I held on to this memory of us trekking to Victoria Peak in Hong Kong to see the sunset. Then we crossed the bay on a ferry to Kowloon to have dinner. I thought it was very sweet. But I guess it was all a lie, ain’t it? I’m letting this go and this no longer belongs in my folder of precious memories.

Now I call this one below the Tower of Sauron. It’s all a lie.

*Crossing to Kowloon. Photo by CallMeCreation.com*

Next time I fly to Hong Kong, I will supplant this with a better memory. It will all be gone like in the Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. I’m already desensitizing myself by digging through my folders and letting this out.

I know he’s charming others now to manipulate them to do his bidding. Classic characteristic of a narcissist. It was all about them, never caring for the other party. Even if they know that one thing is already wrong, they will insist on their own twisted reasoning, all for one-upmanship. It’s all about getting even or “winning” over the other person, be it an enemy or a partner.

It’s sad, actually. Sad for me because I thought I was loved, even for a moment. But in truth I was really targeted as the next vulnerable victim. During our first meeting, he lied and said all that stuff about Philippines being the Pearl of the Orient Seas before and how his firm wanted to invest in the country to bring it back on the world map. Later on when we were already together, he told me his firm doesn’t really give a crap about the country–it’s all about the deal. And that they have white-guy biases. I hated that he lied to me just to charm me. I was having doubts all throughout the relationship (bits and pieces here and there) and the big glaring warning was during the time we were in Bohol. But I guess that’s how he gaslighted me all those 2.5 years. I’m so gullible, right?

I had told my friends before that I’ll be ok–that when I look back when I’m already 60 years old, I can say that I’ve been loved and it’s all that counts…Well I am wrong. I was never loved. It was all in my head. I, who had come out of a failed marriage, wanted to believe what I only wanted to believe. See what I only want to see. Big red flag was when I mistakenly opened his Facebook logged in on her ex-gf’s account. He was still stalking her. And he wasn’t over her because he still wanted to chase her to California and settle there, even to the point of staying with his sister even though they’re not in good terms. He told me to prove to the ex that he “made it” after she told him that he is dumb to throw his medical career away. To prove her wrong. Well, if it’s not being over her, what was I doing there??? As I said before, I was a void filler.

What is love? I don’t know what it is anymore. I no longer know how it is to be loved since I’m always the one expending the energy and giving all.

So fuck Valentine’s Day. It’s an invention of Hallmark cards.

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Memories. Fucking memories. I am letting them all go now. They were all lies anyway.

10 steps forward, 2 steps back

Posted on February 9, 2022 by admin

“I also felt that way,” my friend told me this morning. “It took me a long time to process and two years later I still think about it. But it’s a big thing that I realized slowly my worth to my family, friends, and work. It’s a big deal that I know myself and what values and dreams I have.”

She continued: “If you know yourself and your values and dreams, it’s a big factor in accepting yourself and you are both different–it will be easier for you to rise from this challenge. It’s not because you found someone else but because you know who you are and you are happy with who you are.”

“You need to look at yourself and appreciate what you have and what you are. Because he cannot take that away from you, unless you let him.”

Words of encouragement from friends are what keep me from falling off the rails.

That’s why I tried to find myself because I lost so much…I lost almost everything. But he can’t take away my essence.

I clearly remember him asking me, “Will you be my home?” I offered him a home. Then he threw it back to my face. He must have been play-acting at that time he asked me.

In any case, I am still home to friends and family. K says that he loves it that my apartment feels homey and I’ve always cooked for friends when they’re here. My friends are always welcome to stay when they are weary. This is where my cousin runs to when she needs to. Because I am home to many of my loved ones. My arms are always open to those who needed a hug, love, and assurance. And as my friend told me this morning, be happy that you have that capacity to give because many don’t.

J admonished me one time. “Why do you keep on saying these positive things when things are bad?” he told me bitterly while we were walking around University Avenue for exercise. He was having a hard time at work. I told him, “because you need support and I believe in you,” I said.

I guess he didn’t value that.

He didn’t value anything about me.

But he will no longer dictate my value.

I am somebody a guy would be proud to walk hand-in-hand with and I don’t have to dress like a hooker to be viewed as beautiful. I am somebody who makes government officials think and sit up on their chairs when I quiz them on national television. I am somebody who can be a panelist in an international investor conference, quizzing global CEOs and CFOs on stage to extricate important points and not just go through uninteresting questions. I am one of the resources tapped by our global HQ to train employees on public speaking. I’ve been training reporters for more than a decade. I inherited my parents’ brains and I’m not just some bimbo pretending to be more important than I really am. My job title is not empty. People take me seriously and when I speak, they listen. As one Finance official told me, I am a no nonsense journalist.

And my team values me. Somebody who left the team wanted to come back when he learned I would soon be heading the team. I have lifted others from other teams to expand their horizons and with my encouragement, they have shifted roles, climbed up, and are now discovering their true worth.

I am a good friend, a good daughter, and had been a good partner. I have many imperfections but it’s ok, at least I am not evil. I can still drink like a sailor and I’m cool to have around–that’s why my guy friends voted to make me as one of their co-hosts because I can understand whatever rocks their boats and they feel safe with me.

To my children, I am their world–for now.

I had worn so many hats for J: a lover, a nurturer, a domestic goddess, a cheerleader, a business partner, a friend, a sounding board, an adventurer–and so much more. I understood his interests and hobbies without any effort at all because my interests run along the same course. I don’t find his geekiness weird or a quirk; I’m a geek as well. He didn’t have to pretend with me at all even if he did because I accepted him as he was. Pity he didn’t see all these.

He will never find another one like me. And he just threw me away.

I am down in the dumps again. I have taken 10 steps forward, two steps back with this latest setback.

But I will rise again. This mental breakdown was just caused by so much trauma. I’m stronger than this.

Since I slept at past 5 am today, I was more useless today than previous days. I still managed to have several calls, got some leads, and worked on some stories with other colleagues from other parts of Asia. But basically the writing part is still stuck because my brain is half asleep. I was supposed to have dinner at 6 pm tonight in Makati with some journo friends (from competing international news agencies) but I was too sleepy to drive so it was a no-go.

So I just turned to my garden, to make my hands busy.