I finally completed the last curtain panel for the living room of my apartment. All of these, as usual, are done by hand (no sewing machine whatsoever). I like to create things with my hands. I made these panels much longer so it can also be used in my tiny house, which has larger windows. I was shifting between finishing the curtains and drawing bookmarks for a few days now so that my mind and hands are occupied.
I like that the living room looks warmer and homey. Photo by CallMeCreation.com
The grandma aesthetic (floral curtains) has softened the industrial look of this apartment’s French windows, with all the grills and aluminum screen frame. Once the floral curtains are juxtaposed with the hard clean lines of the black window frames, the pendant lights, and cabinetry of my new home, my home will feel cozier and not very stark in its newness. I will soften the look further with floral throw pillows, art, and books. Lots of art and books.
The grey sofa here is still functional but its upholstery is butt-ugly now because of the cat scratches. I will have it reupholstered in emerald green or chintz and transfer it to my mom’s house because it’s too big for my own house. The red divan will also be reupholstered and be given to my brother and sister-in-law for their gaming room/den because it fits in the nook under the stairs.
Now that I’m done with these floral gina curtains, I proceeded to re-work the muslin curtains and lengthen them for the girls’ room in my house. So of course, my cats want to join.
Photo by CallMeCreation.com
Another mission accomplished: buying Twin I’s spicy Korean fried chicken from Jjang Kkae. It was rainy and it was so cozy just staying at home but I had to drag my ass our of the house to buy this and some banchan. I also bought a variety of mushrooms for hotpot that i will cook some time this week.
Yum. Photo by CallMeCreation.com
I just want to stay in bed all day tomorrow. 🙃 Or draw.
This article from the Financial Times and the comments section made me think real hard about emigration. I always knew at the back of my head this is one of the the reasons why I haven’t emigrated while the rest of the middle class Filipinos (well about half) have done so. My sister also said the same that’s why she opted to fly back home instead of staying in Australia.
In this FT article, the columnist said Netherlands is busting at the seams. Productivity is low due to government incentives, with many Dutch opting to work part-time while no one wanted blue-collar work (service staff in HORECA sector, airport, etc) for the price being offered. Why work 40 hrs when you can do 20? Importing more blue-collar workers is not an option given that migration is a touchy issue in the EU. Brexit comes to mind. The Netherlands has a tight housing market since the Dutch do not build up, which is ironic in a country that is continuously battling the North Sea and always under threat of being engulfed especially now with melting glaciers from Greenland. Just like any port city, Amsterdam is getting denser. Some in the comments section have pointed out that Singapore, Hong Kong, and Tokyo are handling the population density by building up, which cities like Amsterdam and London are not willing to do. Aye, there’s the rub.
The FT writer said that there are farmlands that can be claimed for housing elsewhere in Netherlands but people said why would we give up land that has been feeding us and allowing us to export our produce? They have a point. They said that in order for Singapore to grow and accommodate its population, it has foregone the ability to produce its own food and is importing almost everything it consumes. But then, are the Dutch willing to go in that direction? Of course not.
I then remembered my conversation with a Singapore-based friend about the Singaporean affliction of kiasu, the selfishness due to fear of missing out. It’s annoying as hell and this is exacerbated by racism towards Asians they deemed inferior to them. I told my friend that this kiasu was probably borne out of the fact that they had to fight for the very limited resources that they have. And here we are, Filipinos who also want to have a piece of those very limited resources. They would be/are really, really be pissed off with us, who keep on voting for shit government and now we want to escape our hellhole to burden the natives with our demand for the same limited resources. That’s why they are keeping us out by putting a very high price tag for everything that we foreigners would need. A colleague from HK who migrated to Singapore with her husband (who was being transplanted by his company) said the rental apartments for foreigners are ridiculous. She wouldn’t find apartments below SGD 4,500, her realtor said. Public schools are not for foreigners as well so you need to fork out at least SGD 30k a year per child for private/international school tuition. This colleague–who recently left my company for higher pay and work visa issues because our HR is very narrow-minded–couldn’t do anything but bite the bullet.
The AVP of this company I had lunch with last week said that when Marcos won last year, he and his wife immediately thought about leaving the country and weighed their options regarding migration. Their choice was Canada. But then the wife, who has a private driver for her daily commute to her workplace, wouldn’t be able to have her maids and driver when they move to Canada. They would be doing every menial task that she didn’t have to do here. They have a relatively affluent life here in Manila; they can tour Europe on business class (the wife refuses to travel coach) and buy shit out of the luxury stores in Europe (i.e. shopping for many expensive bags), her husband says. So they are staying put here for now.
This brings me now to my talk with my journo friend, M. Like the typical affluent Filipino whose family is financially and politically connected, he didn’t have to work like mad to afford his lifestyle since he can just receive dividends from family business, etc. His mom flies to Switzerland because she just feels like hiking the Alps, that kind of thing. But M does work to prove to the family he is unlike the rest of them. Anyway, he said there is little incentive for him to migrate because he leads a relatively comfortable life. Why would I fight for the resources in other countries that I can have here, he asked. He has a point.
This is a complex conundrum that is forever tugging at the back of my mind. Am I being selfish for not thinking about the future of my children since I am not offering them the world? Just because I don’t want to struggle since I am comfortable where I am now? I know that my degrees from the best university here do not mean anything abroad; in fact they look down on it because my university is still lagging behind everybody else (my Singapore-based friend said). Would I want to subject kids to the same kind of predicament?
But then, despite the academic limitations, I am still competitive abroad, in my field at least. I couldn’t say the same for my kids when it’s their turn. I don’t know what is right or wrong now.
However, if let’s say I move to the US (because I can for my job), would I be able to afford sending them to college without them having to deal with debilitating student loans? Would they be able to cope with the feeling of displacement? Would I be able to closely watch over them as a single parent? Would I be able to afford housing without working two jobs because my work entails that I need to be in financial/business centers where resources are limited? For me to afford a home as a single mom, I have to locate myself in Hicksville (as my cousin calls rural backwater America), which is worse than being stuck here in the Philippines, methinks.
Maybe, just maybe, this is for the best in the meantime. They can emigrate after they graduate from college by applying for scholarships abroad for graduate studies. We have finite resources but here I can have those resources that I am rightfully entitled to. And I have a voice here that I can use to fight for equality and equity among the people to have access to those resources so we don’t have to develop the kiasu attitude.
Merry Christmas!
I celebrated with the cats. Had been video-calling my kids every now and then so they won’t feel abandoned. But I don’t think they have issues spending Christmas away from me since we are stuck together everyday anyway.
They’re trying to talk to Kimchi.
I had wine again to make me fall asleep.
Christmas drink.After. Wohoo!
But nope, I still ended up sewing a curtain panel to make me sleepy. I went to bed at almost 3 am. I realized I must finish more curtains because I only have 5 months before I move out. I want to have curtains up in our tiny house when we move in. They say it makes it feel like home immediately.
My dainty felling stitch. Photo by CallMeCreation.com
My kids at least have better food than I do. My sisters ordered lots of dishes for Christmas eve while I am going to have the chicken cordon bleu that my neighbor gave me. The era of slaving away in the kitchen for Christmas dinner and Christmas day festivities is long gone. After my father died, we just celebrated Christmas out of town, the first of which was spent in a beach resort. The pandemic forced my mom and my sisters to spend Christmas at home.
As for me, I had to cook today. I wanted fluffier rice so I cooked it in this claypot.
I must look for a bigger claypot for general cooking because rice is lovelier this way.
L and M looking at tattoo designs. Photo by CallMeCreation.com
Among the things that we talked about last night (for 5 hours) was getting a tattoo. I told them the only thing that kept me from getting one is the comic strip Pugad Baboy. I told them that I read one strip where the father, Mang Dagul, told Tiny, his daughter, about how ridiculous Tweety Bird would look on her wrinkly arm when she hits 80 years old.
So M had been showing me cat designs that I can try. I said no. Then he showed me a photo of the makkuro kuroske characters from Chihiro no Sen (Spirited Away) that he would want for his tattoo.
Then I said, yeah, just think how it would look like when you’re 80. Then he quipped, “if I get to live that long.”
I posted this photo on IG stories and another friend of ours, A, commented there that we should all get tattoos at the same time since she also wanted one. 😂
So it seems like we would all be getting tattoos since we’re all in our rebellious phase.
I want to get No Face (Kaonashi)
With a life-size No Face at Donguri Republic in Taiwan. I asked a stranger to take this photo since I was traveling alone.
Another option is to have a tattoo based on indigenous prints/designs like the Kalinga tattoos done by Apo Whang-Od. The problem is, I need to trek to Kalinga province to meet her in the Butbut tribe village. Which I’m not prepared to do. I also don’t want to desecrate her culture since such tattoos are reserved for the warriors, specifically headhunters, of her tribe.
I also like the idea of the pintado warriors of the Visayas, the ones the Spanish conquistadores had fought with when they tried to land in what is now known as Leyte province. The Spanish demonized tattoos later on as these are associated with the indigenous Filipino warriors of yore who had been defending these islands from the likes of them.
My ancestors came from Batangas and natives of this part of Southern Tagalog are known to be feisty and warrior-like. We always had a gulok (or golok in Malay) somewhere inside or outside in the garden as a cutting tool or for self defense. It’s only when my father passed on did we dispose of his rusty gulok.
Gulok
I learned in one music workshop that I attended (when I was bored with my life decades) ago that Batangas has its own music tradition—the kumintang, or war songs. Again, this was watered down by the Spaniards to become something different form the original. The kumintang now known in Batangas is a music and dance performed by couples and has turned into a…let’s say non-threatening show for the conquistadores.
But I digress. My point is, I’ve descended from warriors so I may have a license to have an indigenous tattoo meant for warriors 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣
L said we can get our tats done in Poblacion, Makati. When? I don’t know. What part of the body? I don’t know. I may not even get one since some onsen may be particular about tattooed individuals.
I tried squeezing in my outdoor walk early this evening before it rained. I drove my car to UP because it was already getting dark and I don’t really feel safe walking in the dark once I get near Krus na Ligas to get to my own village.
It was starting to drizzle. Photo by CallMeCreation.com
My walk was shorter than usual because it was about to rain. I spent the last 2 km of my walk under the drizzle.
I was dissatisfied with the calories I supposedly burned so I supplemented it by doing my indoor exercises (core + stretching + weights). There finally, almost 500 kcal.
When I was lifting, my heart rate was around 125 bpm. Sooooooo…if I get stuck inside again, I can double the frequency of my lifts and lengthen my core exercises to achieve the same effect as when I walk 7km.
I’m tired but it’s the good kind of tired. I will start another panel of curtain because I finished the first one the other night.
And Kimchi started sleeping on the curtain I just finished. Photo by CallMeCreation.com
I broke one of my drill bits last night because I was being stubborn. I need to replace it this weekend when we have the chance to go the mall. We will spend about three days in Makati in two serviced apartments I reserved for the Leni grand rally in Makati, which was eventually cancelled. My reservation was non-refundable. Anyway, we will treat it just like a staycation and I will be working one of those days, plus I needed to cover an event at night. It’s a relief I don’t have to drive back to QC after that.
Flower tea to start the day. Photo by CallMeCreation.com
For some strange reason I woke up early again so I was forced to confront work earlier than usual. I think our stay in Anilao has reset my body clock and now I’m back to Philippine Standard Time. It has been several nights that I get to sleep before 1 am and it has been so lovely so far. I think my body has finally withdrawn from alprazolam.
So I was productive today, editing a number of stories, communicating with sources and doing my usual admin work, writing another story…and yet I haven’t done any of the pending stories I was supposed to publish this week. 🙄 I promise I will publish two tomorrow. And I’m still waiting for a confirmation of an interview schedule…
Because I already scratched my DIY itch yesterday, it’s now the handmade itch’s turn to nag at me. So I restarted the sewing project I had so I will have new set of curtains for the living room downstairs before this month ends.
Tiny neat stitches. Photo by CallMeCreation.com
I’m loving the way my house now is becoming more handmade as the time passes. This is our fourth year staying in this apartment and we still have one year more to go before we transfer permanently, I think, in our new flat in my hometown.
I don’t have mass market art on my walls and I’m making handmade curtains. I’m DIY-ing so many things in this apartment that I feel like this is already mine even though it’s not. I have my say in all of the things here whereas I didn’t have that freedom in the past. Soon I will have my couch reupholstered with a more cat-friendly fabric and I will be making more pillows. I discovered that you can buy pillow fillers from Shopee and you can refill old and saggy pillows–or make new pillows and throw out the old ones. I can make big and fluffy ones if I want to. I either can hand sew again or I buy that Brother sewing machine on my shopping list on Lazada and make my life easier.
I have so many ideas in my head that I want to execute for our new flat, like an outdoor hot tub under the fruit trees. I can buy this galvanized iron tub from FB Marketplace and put it on top of concrete blocks to have a low fire going underneath.
Perfect for a hot tub with fire roaring underneath it.
This guy made a hot tub using an old barrel and some blocks.
A brick pizza oven in the garden, a grilling station, and a small workshop or art studio. I’ve also been looking at outdoor furniture with umbrella at Ikea and at Ace Hardware. My girls and their friends can hang out there.
I got the brick oven pizza from this guy as well.
So I weighed things…my job may not be that fabulous right now but it offers me flexibility to pursue life—real life outside work. So far the arrangement is agreeable to me. I just need super fast internet, like what I have right now, then work-life balance is ok.
I have to talk to the Converge people because they still don’t have a line near my new place. I need to attend one face to face event with them so I can sweet-talk them into installing lines there…hahaha!
Giving people the benefit of the doubt sent me to the deeper end and it always, ALWAYS had been detrimental to me. I justify my love for them that’s why I give them allowances.
Took me so much hurt and rude awakening to realize he is an evil person. I had been making excuses in my head, searching for the good in him but I ignored the big glaring fact that he is what he is.
Learned the hard way.
Let me tell you another story. This one is less political.
So my ex-husband hashad this penchant for cheating on me even before we got married. Why I stuck with him, I don’t know. Maybe I was there to prove something, like I can turn him around/rehabilitate him or what. Anyway, this story is not about that.
There was this girl who kept on messaging him on his mobile phone. One day she called. I answered it. Told her I was the wife of M. She threw expletives at me and among the many things thrown at me, all I could remember was she was a gf or something—whatever. I shouted at my bf (at that time) and threw his phone, broke it and flushed the SIM down the toilet.
I learned that my bf/ex-husband didn’t lose contact with his gfs and he kept them all on the side, you know, “in case of emergency.” (Among the other life skills I learned was to hack into his emails and his phone to discover his indiscretions). I stalked this girl online for a long, long time and messed up her blogs and so on and so forth. My investigative journo skills were in full mode at that time. What bothered me was that this girl looked like me, my brother said. At that time she was a call center agent. I learned that she took up a course under the UP College of Mass Communication but got kicked out of the program and had to relocate to a faraway campus, got into another program where her grades were more acceptable. Anyway, with the rise of social media, she became more visible to me. What’s funny is that because she is so in love with herself, she didn’t even bother making her social media accounts private.
I no longer have a beef with her right now and out of curiosity as to what she’s up to, I searched for her online. It seems like she lives on the outskirts of BGC, one of the condos there on the edge because I think one of the views from her window faces Taguig and she hangs out at BGC a lot. There was one time there was an art fair at Bonifacio High Street and she had a booth there and I came face to face with her. She probably doesn’t have any idea who I was but I fully knew who she was. She is this artsy-fartsy thing who does art commissions, or so she tries to project on her social media posts. She hangs out in coffee shops around BCG and does art on her tablet.
I think she’s a perfect target for someone like J. I wouldn’t be surprised if he gets to pick her up randomly.
It’s just a wild thought but I know she would be a good fit because she’s shiny, she’s superficial, and she knows how to project herself. He likes superficial things. They’re exactly the same age.
It was just unfortunate that I gave my unconditional love to somebody like that. It’s hard getting it back, hence, my emotional bankruptcy. A PR professional friend messaged me on FB tonight and asked me how I was and if I already have a bf (after J). I said no, I need to heal and I’m not searching—that I’m done. I’m happier like this. She said it’s when I’m not searching the One comes. I said no, just the thought of it creeps me out. It’s just too painful, I told her. I don’t think I can have another one again.
I mean, ok, they’re happy. The on-screen couple turned real-life couple. Good for them. I just hope it lasts. Excuse my jadedness.
There are people made for this, and there are people who are not. I clearly do not belong to the first group. Even if I gave my all—all my love and kindness, tried to see good in people even if they don’t deserve it—I always end up in a ditch and disrespected.
So no, friend, I’m better off like this. I need to grow and learn more about the world and the hard lessons life is teaching me. I’m not about to seek comfort and affirmation from someone else because it only leads to disaster.
Lighting candles to soothe my soul. Photo by CallMeCreation.com
I am done with the two curtain panels for the girls’ bedroom.
Photo by CallMeCreatiom.com
Now they’re up on their windows.
Photo by CallMeCreation.com
I’m just finishing a small panel and then I will be done with their room. I can now proceed to do the complicated poppy flower drawing…
Just look at my hobbies—they’re hardly the thing that sophisticated, shiny people do. I do granny things. I’m not even into grandmillennial style…just granny. My interests are contemplative things like hiking, diving, biking, home DIY, museums, daydreaming on a grassy patch of land, gardening, cooking, drawing, singing, and lots of reading. I’m not into clubbing and so over bar-hopping.
I’m boring. I could hardly be an asset to a person who wants to aspire for big things in life like being a fund manager or a fund owner. A CEO of a conglomerate. I also could never be a tai tai nor I wanted to be one.
During this period of transition inmy life I realized I just want to be like this:
If there’s a larger than life I personality I want to be friends with, it would be Karl Lagerfeld or Rajiv Surendra.
Karl’s life is interesting—not because of money that came with his life but it doesn’t hurt, no?—but he lived beautifully and he chased intellectualism not just for the sake of it but because he was very curious. Of course he was sort of a snob and he was raised by a ruthless mother but for some reason he loved her dearly. From his stories (published in Vogue and other interviews), his mother sounds like Elton John’s mother (gleaned from the movie Rocketman).
Anyway, I remember one article in Vogue (when I was still a devoted reader) that he spoke several languages and read in French, German, and English. He loved books. He was one of the biggest bibliophiles there is. He collected books and read them all. He was interested in so many things, especially history. His library is one of my dream libraries and I could happily pass my days in there. We can talk about politics, history, philosophy, art—so many things—over tea and biscuits (he eliminated sweets from his diet).
I also remember his love for wearing Hedi Slimane suits. There was an article in Vogue where he discussed his weariness of flying/airports post 9/11 (how strictly insane and tedious flying became right after 9/11) so he had outfitted several SUVs to be luxurious cabins so he can cross countries in Europe without having to suffer the indignities of stripping your clothes/shoes just authorities can scan you for possible deadly weapons or bombs.
I wish I have his discipline of sketching all the time. He wanted to be a cartoonist, not a fashion designer at first. He figured he could make a better living out of sketching clothes.
I could feel his frustration of wanting to play the piano but this desire to learn it was stamped out by his incorrigible mother. I figured those who leaned towards the arts sometimes find themselves drawn to other art forms as a way to express themselves.
Hmm, the two persons I mentioned above have another thing in common: they’re both gay. I’m good friends with gay men and as I told one gay man in Singapore, I am a fairy princess. I like the company of gay men because they’re interesting and they like my friendship. I had been to gay bars in Manila with K and his friends are fun to be with; we were dancing on the ledge of a bar until the wee hours (this was before I got married).
hand-stitching again. Photo by CallMeCreation.com
I’m back to sewing again as a form of procrastination. I can’t finish the poppy sketch yet since it’s complicated for my bleeding brain (I just finished an article today). I think the curtain panels will be up in the girls’ room by the end of this week.
I’m also teaching a colleague how to survive the China lockdown because he doesn’t know how to cook. His initial lockdowns were in Kuala Lumpur and he was privileged enough not to worry about supplies when he was there. I told him to grab lots of Indomee instant noodles (he’s Chinese Malaysian) and do this:
Lucky Me Pancit Canton by Monde Nissin. Photo by CallMeCreation.com
Teaching him what to buy and what to do with them. Gah! I wonder how these people survive all these years by just eating out.
Screenshot from NIkkei Asia
This zero-Covid policy of China has seen a lot of businesses wanting to flee HK. My former APAC boss is now in Manila to escape the draconian policies of HK and give her toddlers a respite from being locked up indoors.
In contrast, Singapore is now allowing people to be maskless if outdoors. My friend-colleague said it’s such a relief especially if she’s taking her walks for her daily exercise. Our new APAC head, who’s based in Seoul, said most people there have been getting Covid that it doesn’t make sense to control movement. So the rest of the world has adopted the living-with-Covid policy and is now opening up borders.
I’m raring to go to the sea.
Maricaban, Batangas. Photo by CallMeCreation.com
This photo was taken when we took the boat from Eagle Point Resort to Maricaban island. The diving was not good but the winds were violent in Sombrero island so we were taken here. Some of these boats took novice scuba divers where we were freediving.
