Tuesday, Tuesday

Posted on March 22, 2022 by admin

*Looking at metrics with lighted lavender candle. Photo by CallMeCreation.com*

I had been looking at our metrics for two days now and something is wrong with our database. I contacted the person in charge but he hasn’t responded. I need to elevate this to HQ IT. It seems like I’m the only person in our bureau doing this 😤

So many hurdles that we/I are/am facing for changes to be implemented. I told my APAC boss if things don’t change, people will be resigning. Including me. Competition is actively hiring.

It was so hot today that whenever I go downstairs, I get knocked out by the heat. Later in the afternoon I didn’t realize I fell asleep while reading on my bed after finishing an edit. I felt I was being woken up by one of the girls but I couldn’t understand what that was about.

Then a Lazada package was on my table.

*Sketchbook arrived! Photo by CallMeCreation.com*

I bought this for less than PHP 200. I can have a hardbound sketchbook for less than PHP 1,000 via Lazada! Thank goodness for that. Moleskines are like PHP 1,500- PHP 2,000. I can’t keep forking out that much money for practice sketches.

I quickly put it to test.

*Initial inking. Art and photo by CallMeCreation.com*

I was determining here how to show depth since I took the photo directly on top of the food bowls so there’s no way I can show the depth of the bowls. That stumped me so much.

*Light coloring. Art and photo by CallMeCreation.com*

It’s really posing a problem. It’s a puzzle that I still have to solve because the ramen bowl is white. I’m trying to color a bit with ecru. I also added shadows under the bowls but another issue with the original image was that there were many sources of light there. The restaurant had multiple lights overhead so my light source is confused.

*Still haven’t solved it. Art and photo by CallMeCreation.com*

I need to give up for now to let the paper dry. The 150 gsm paper of this sketchbook is holding up and is not bleeding. Not bad for a hardbound sketchbook for less the PHP 200. I’ll solve this conundrum tomorrow.

Today I battled my way into reserving hotel rooms in Makati for the April 30 rally. And OMG the other Leni supporters are really fighting with me for the rooms! Everytime I clicked, Agoda told me that somebody else beat me into it. I even tried booking 3 bedroom suites but to no avail. Manila Peninsula was already fully booked yesterday. I tried the ones in Valero St. and Salcedo Village. I was able to book rooms in serviced apartments but on the first night it was in Valero and the second night is along Salcedo Village, a block away from Paseo de Roxas. I had to cut the reservation dates because there was no way I could book two nights in a row.

My mom is excited. Her friends have been having a difficult time booking rooms, too, and she’s happy I was able to snag rooms.

I’m also ordering pink shirts online. Will put click “buy” on Friday once I get clearer idea about the dates exact dates.

The girls are coming with me, too. I want them to see how people are gathering to push for change.

Let me tell you a story.

Once upon a time, we were manufacturing radios and televisions even before Japan started doing it.

The brand is Radiowealth and we had a unit of that huge TV at home when I was a kid.

*Photo from Isamunangpatalastas.blogspot.com*

We were a manufacturing hub before. Japan was devastated after the war. Korea was the same. China was deep into Maoism. We used to make watches during the later years of the Spanish colonial period. We had a thriving economy that was the envy of our neighbors.

But then Ferdinand Marcos Sr. came. And grabbed power.

When Martial Law was declared, Guevara’s business plan was jeopardized, especially since he was one of 7 delegates who voted against martial law. Because of this, he was pressured by the Marcos government which wanted to take over his successful business. Knowing it was futile to fight Marcos, Guevara—whose health has been affected by the turn of events—together with his wife, fled to the United States.
isamunangpatalastas.blogspot.com

RADIOWEALTH eventually closed, signaling an end of a shining era of industrial revolution. But Guevara’s legacy remains in Mandaluyong, where a busy, bustling street on where his manufacturing plants stood-Libertad St.–has been renamed after him—Domingo M. Guevara St. the self-made industrialist died in the 1990s.
isamunangpatalastas.blogspot.com

This is the reason why the economic powerhouse that was the Philippines fell and crumbled. Because of one man’s greed. We became the laggard of Asia as we continued to be dragged down by dollar debts that were stashed into Swiss bank accounts. We never recovered.

That is why this show of support to the opposition—Leni and Kiko—is not only a petty knee-jerk reaction against Duterte-Marcos. This is a fight for my children’s future. We must not let the Marcoses be back in Malacanang.

This is why we are sparing no expense in showing to the world that we are ready for change. For cleaner government, for public servants in the truest sense like Leni and Chel Diokno. And there are stories of people being converted during and after the Pasig rally because they saw how people are there on their own volition, without being bribed, without being forced by their LGUs.

We might never get back that economic status before Marcos Sr came. But at least we are trying to change our course to a better one.

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.

Rut

Posted on October 28, 2021 by admin

woman in white shirt showing frustration — Photo by Andrea Piacquadio on Pexels.com

I don’t know what’s wrong with me but I’m in a writer’s rut. I can’t bring myself to write this week and I have one analysis piece that I need to publish before the month ends (like tomorrow!!!) and another feature that is awaited by my interviewees. Productivity is half although my editing is still sharp; it’s just that I can’t write.

I need to get out tomorrow or else I will suffer from writer’s block. I will just sleep this off again. I need to be in a coffee shop for a change of scenery. Bo’s Coffee near my house probably and then I can transfer to Starbucks on the other side of the village much later.

I was like this in 2014 then after my gall bladder surgery, I resigned and signed on with my current company.

I can’t seem to put my finger in it why I’m having these productivity meltdowns more often. The seven-year-itch probably? Or lockdown burnout? I don’t know but I gotta cure this fast.

*Vegetarian. Photo by CallMeCreation.com*

I don’t think I’ve had pork for more than a week now. I’ve been going vegetarian most days and like this one, I’ve had string beans in coconut milk and a fancy egg drop soup with leeks for dinner. I need to have more calorie-deficit days to make up for the food I consumed in my mom’s house when she ordered a lot of stuff to celebrate my birthday last Sunday.

Meanwhile, a few minutes ago my househelp asked me about Dekada ’70 (The ’70s), a novel by Lualhati Bautista. I told her it’s a fictional story of the Bartolome family set against a real historical backdrop–during Martial Law. I told her do not watch the movie, it’s better to read the book because the movie was watered down. She said she tried looking for it at National Bookstore because it’s an assigned reading for her Philippine Literature class. Right there and then, I bought the book off Shopee and within minutes I told her the vendor should be sending the pocketbook by Saturday.

I was delighted that her teacher is progressive enough to make her students read this.

I read this in high school and I think I wrote a paper about it for my Filipino class. It was one of the biggest eye-openers for me and since then I started researching about what really happened in those times. I read more books about it since it was a dark time for Philippine journalism as well. Of course, Martial Law was pivotal for my family too because this has shaped the politics of my parents. My mom was a member of Kabataang Makabayan (a student activist organization) whose members were imprisoned, tortured, and killed during that time. My father’s activism came in later but until his dying day, he was still affiliated with the reformist leftist groups (the breakaway from the the Maoist group of Jose Maria Sison).

We also did the Martial Law project for my former TV network and I was supposed to interview then Bangko Sentral Deputy Governor Diwa Gunigundo for this project but some personal matters took over and the interview did not push through. I hope I can do it soon for a special project. Anyway, Gov Diwa was imprisoned during Martial law when he was the editor-in-chief of The Philippine Collegian–the student paper of the University of the Philippines Diliman that openly criticized Ferdinand Marcos when nobody in mainstream media dared. My mom said even non-UP people were grabbing copies of Kule (Philippine Collegian’s nickname) when Diwa was EIC because “it was the only one publishing the truth at that time; everything published by others was propaganda and lies.” When Diwa and I once chatted, I told him he probably knew my uncle, my father’s cousin, Nick Atienza, who was also imprisoned at that same time at Fort Bonifacio (which is ironically the posh BGC now) and was the secretary-general of Kabataang Makabayan at that time. Diwa was shocked. He shook his head. “Nick was just three cells from me. I could hear them (military) torturing him every night, bashing his head like a troso (lumber) against his cell wall. It’s a miracle that he lived through that. Nick suffered the most horrible torture ever known among the Martial Law detainees who had lived,” Diwa said.

Nick Atienza had trouble walking for the rest of his life because of the shrapnel still embedded in his legs. My parents recommended to him my father’s orthopedic surgeon to help him with his problems. When my dad’s doctor learned who Nick was and how he obtained his injuries, he waived his professional fees. Since Nick was also a faculty member at UP, he probably had other fees discounted as well because he was treated at UP-PGH.

So I had a teacher for my Social Science 2 (Great Political Theories) in college who proclaimed that it’s not true that Ferdinand Marcos committed the crimes that people had thrown at him and there were no human rights violations during that time. I barked at my teacher and told her, “So what can you say about an uncle of mine who was tortured at Fort Bonifacio?” I always had heated debates with this teacher who always cited The Prince by Niccolo Machiavelli, justifying Marcos’ actions during his 21-year rule (“the end justifies the means”). She failed me because she was just too annoyed that I challenged her lies. When she did that to me, I went straight to the department chairman and complained. Instead of taking the removal exams, because I didn’t want to deal with her anymore, I took again that class under a different teacher. That cost me my cum laude. I was running for honors then.

I was expecting my parents to berate me for failing. But my father said: It’s better to fail than to accept lies being fed to you. It’s better to stand up for what you believe what is right.

And this has been my guiding principle ever since.

Pink

Posted on October 7, 2021 by admin

*#LabanLeni. Art by Karl Michael Domingo via Instagram*

Today all my social media accounts turned pink as people, friends and strangers alike, have indicated their support for VP Leni Robredo‘s bid for the presidency. She made her announcement today at 11 am and filed her candidacy documents at 3 pm.

She’s smart; she didn’t adopt the yellow color of the Liberal Party and the color associated with the Aquinos. The color dilaw that the DDS destroyed by equating yellow with something very negative. By adopting an off-tangent color, Leni is showing that she is her own person, not riding on the legacy of the Aquinos and not alienating other people who have anything against the Aquinos. And those who have shifted allegiances from being DDS to opposition.

Even Sandara Park, who grew up here and became super popular here first as a pop idol before going back home to Korea to be part of the girl band 2N1, has posted an irrelevant throwback photo that only Filipinos will understand. She still considers Philippines home. She was nicknamed Krung-krung here because her popularity made people go crazy (“krung-krung”) and she still calls herself that. Look at her Twitter handle.

Artists, musicians, actors and other on- and offline influencers have also shown their support.

Leni does not have the money like the Marcoses. The Dutertes have amassed quite a sizeable amount from their decades of reign in Davao and the five years they have ruled the country. But Leni has the grassroots support. People all over Twitter have been asking for details where they can donate for Leni’s campaign–and I have never heard of such movement like this my entire adult life (i.e. voting age). And this is the only time I will donate to anybody’s political campaign. Ever.

Duterte had been shooting Leni down since Day 1 and Congress had granted her office the smallest budget there is among government agencies but she made it work. During the pandemic, she knew what to do. Her office was the only one that provided free testing for the masses and facilities for healthcare workers. PPEs and equipment to government facilities. She made medical care available to the poor. If those who availed of the free testing turned out to be positive, they received healthcare packs for Covid home care and some relief goods if the patient is the breadwinner. The Office of the Vice President (OVP) will also assist those who needed to get hospital slots and oxygen tanks. These were made possible by donations by private individuals and corporates who do not trust other government agencies.

She tapped into the private sector partnerships for the vaccination of workers like Grab, Angkas, and other third-party logistics providers. This is just during the pandemic. Years prior, the OVP had a lot of programs like natural disaster quick response. The Duterte administration was so slow in deploying help to victims of calamities, so the OVP is the first to be there, like in Cagayan and Isabella during last year’s typhoons that flattened Northern Luzon. She has her shit together.

The OVP was the only one or one of the very few that had star rating from the state auditor.

She is an economics graduate from UP and a lawyer but she used her knowledge to be the lawyer for the poor and human rights. When her husband was the Interior and Local Government Secretary, she just worked on the sidelines with her cause-oriented groups. I had interviewed her husband before and he’s a very kind, hardworking, and trustworthy public servant. When I covered the plane crash that killed Jesse Robredo in 2012, it was one of the most heartbreaking coverage that I did. There was a dark cloud hovering over our newsroom at that time. His body was found 800 meters from the shore when his light plane crashed off the coast of Masbate island.

I need to fix my voter’s registration. I think I had been delisted because I wasn’t able to cast my vote in 2019 and 2016.

Political hoopla

Posted on October 6, 2021 by admin

I’m super tired today, I don’t know why. Anyway, Twitter is all abuzz about politics today.

My favorite news:

The new generation standing up to the Marcoses. 👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏I love this so much.

And big media is fighting back.

*It says: it has formally been announced that the former senator, **son of a dictator and a 2016 vice presidential loser**, his intention to run for the highest office in the land.*

But then, you have curve balls like this:

I cannot fathom Kris Aquino running for VP. Leni should know this is political suicide. Having another Aquino is polarizing and that’s the last thing you want when you want to unite everybody vs Marcos/Duterte.

But I’m hoping this is the truth.

*USB condenser microphone. Photo by CallMeCreation.com*

I ordered two for my girls because the built-in mics of their Tylex bluetooth headsets are wonky. So are the mics of their cameras. They just don’t pair well with Linux. Anyway, these mics are working very well and their voices are now loud and clear enough for online classes. I bought these from Lazada a few days ago and the description says it’s good for vlogging/podcasting.

I’m thinking of getting one myself but maybe I’ll get the Maono brand or Fifine, which are vlogging/podcast condenser mics since I will go on air next month for my Youtube series with my high school friends. But so far my webcam is serving me well and its mic is loud enough.