Small box, great memories
14 Jan 2012 Leave a Comment
in E, events, happy thoughts, love and cheesiness
There is a very small box in my room, and I keep special things in it. The box itself isn’t anything special. But the things in it are very dear to me.
I didn’t decide that it would be what it is today. It started as something in which I keep certain souvenirs from different memorable events. I took a look at it last night and I was amused at the hodgepodge of stuff I have from different periods of my life.
There is a handkerchief from a boy who lent it to me when I cried, the reason of which shall remain a secret. I never had the chance to give it back to him because shortly after that, we had a huge fight. I have the paper shuriken that one of my second grade students made. I kept it so I will never forget how to make one. I think it’s important to remember stuff like that. It keeps you young at heart.
Also from the students is a sorry letter. It was signed “From: Dependable”, their section and my advisory class.
This is very memorable to me. There was a time when I couldn’t for the life of me pull myself up and go to school and teach. It went on for a few days. I skipped school to clear my head. When I came back, one of my students handed me the letter. They thought I stopped coming to school because of something they did, so they were saying sorry. Those kids were the best. Interacting with them was the only thing that’s right. Everything else was wrong in so many levels, so eventually I had to leave.
Moving on, there is also the Incubus concert ticket from 2008, Cinemalaya tickets from 2008, the bust ticket from I went to Pampanga with Donna to celebrate with her and family when she passed the board exam.
There are also various movie tickets from dates with E—including the one for the Hollywood version of My Sassy Girl, which we saw in 2008. We weren’t actually a couple yet back then.
There is also the bus ticket from when we went to Baguio. I have the small paper bag and the receipt of our rings that we bought also in Baguio. I have the two graphing papers folded like a heart. It’s not a letter, he shaded some boxes to form *certain* words. Again, I won’t say what the words are. It’s so unbelievably childish that I love it exactly because of that. And then on top of everything I’ve said so far is E’s first letter to me. I read it whenever I remember I have it, and I never get tired of it. I don’t think anyone ever gets tired of being told they’re loved.
I can’t believe I have those kept in one little box. It felt like my brain had a slideshow of the past four years of my life. Imagine if I had a bigger box. I should really get one.
Bus rides and true love
11 Jan 2012 Leave a Comment
in E, happy thoughts, love and cheesiness
This is an out-of-nowhere thought. I was making coffee earlier and I suddenly remembered something that happened to me a few months ago. Maybe the reason why I was reminded of it was because I was thinking about the exchange of texts E and I had last night before sleeping—but that’s another story.
Anyway, I remembered that a few months ago while I was on the bus on my way home, I sat beside an elderly couple. They were about 60-65, I guess. I had limited seating options so I sat on the awkward side of the bus—you know, the three-seaters that are actually just two-and-a-half-seaters in reality. So only half of my butt sat comfortably, but I managed not to slip out of my seat the entire one-hour ride. But that’s really not why I suddenly remembered that moment.
I remembered it because it was incredibly cold inside the bus, and the aircon vent was broken so there was only a gaping hole blasting out ice cold air. The elderly woman was sitting by the window so the air was directly blowing toward the top of her head, so I think she was really cold. She had her pashmina wrapped around her head and around her arms but it wasn’t enough. So her husband cuddled up beside her, put his arms around her and she buried her head in his chest.
It was incredible because I thought that kind of thing happened only in movies. I smiled at them and offered to switch seats with the lady (and sacrifice myself) so she wouldn’t be too cold. They smiled back and said they were okay. And they stayed that way—cuddle up in each other’s arms—the entire ride. And the lady didn’t seem like she minded the cold anymore.
The whole time I was sitting beside them I kept thinking how great they were and how hopeful I felt that couples like those still exist. I felt comforted at the thought that two people could love each other that much that long. I wondered if they knew when they were younger that they will stay in love that way until they were old, and how many older couples feel the same way. And I considered my own relationship and remembered that there are moments when I would look at E and just smile. And he would smile back and call me crazy for smiling for no reason.
And I think I understand. I’m sure of it. You can really love someone that much that long.
The only way I know how
08 Jan 2012 1 Comment
in philosophy, random thoughts and crazy wonderings
Some people don’t understand why I’m always giddy about receiving a letter. Others may never fully grasp how powerful written words can be and how they can change everything about a person. Maybe for some, writing is just another way of saying how one feels—instead of actually saying them, one wrote them. Simple as that.
But written words have a way of affecting you unlike spoken words. With spoken words, although they could break you apart and rip your heart into little pieces, there’s still a chance that—in time—you could remember them differently, or forget them entirely. With written words, when you read something over and over and over again, no matter how many years go it was written, you always go back to that place. You always remember the moment when you can’t breathe while you were writing it because you were crying your eyes out, or you were too drunk and angry to stop because you really needed to let it all out.
It’s sad in a way, to remember that you had those moments to yourself, pouring out your heart to a blog instead of a friend. And maybe it’s one of the reasons why some people would rather not write about their feelings.
But there is also a magical side to writing down what you feel, especially if you felt happy when you wrote something. And you wrote it for someone else. It can really change you. It can uplift your spirits within minutes, turn your frown upside down, give you the perspective you wanted and the support that you needed. But most of all, you could also go back to reading it, over and over and over again and feel all warm and fuzzy whenever you want to. You could go back to being the entire world to someone, to being friends forever; back to being loved. You remember that once you were happy and positive. And it gives you hope that you could be that person again.
I’ve had doubts in the past about my ability to really write, and what the hell am I doing with my life writing marketing collaterals? I’ve wondered what genre I even had a shot at mastering, because it’s definitely not SEO and business writing. It’s so frustrating to know what you want to do but not figure out exactly what you need to do. But when I think about how powerful written words can be, and how they could change everything about a person, how they could give you the perspective that you need, and how you can always make someone feel loved over and over and over again whenever they want to, all my worries disappear.
And at the end of the day, I figure it out somehow. And I go back to writing the only way I know how: from the heart.
The only perspective
04 Jan 2012 Leave a Comment
in books, philosophy, random thoughts and crazy wonderings Tags: perks of being a wallflower
I hate it when people post pictures of disabled people doing extraordinary stuff and put captions like, “you think things are going bad for you? Well, fuck you and your misery because a lot of people have it worse so quit your whining.” Not exactly in those words, but more subtle and kinder.
It’s not right when others belittle your loneliness and pain by comparing it to world hunger or a national catastrophe. I know there are much worse things happening in the world, but it doesn’t change the fact that you feel like shit. And sometimes, when people point out how the rest of the world is in brouhaha, it doesn’t make you feel better. It only makes things worse, because now you feel bad about feeling bad.
I wish people—for once—could tell you it’s okay to feel bad and feel certain things about your situation, because it’s not being selfish at all. It’s being honest with yourself and acknowledging the fact that there is something wrong with you. And the first step to becoming better is identifying the problem.
I think that if I ever have kids, and they are upset, I won’t tell them that people are starving in China or anything like that because it wouldn’t change the fact that they were upset. And even if somebody else has it much worse, that doesn’t really change the fact that you have what you have. Good and bad. Maybe it’s good to put things in perspective, but sometimes, I think that the only perspective is to really be there. Like Sam said. Because it’s okay to feel things. And be who you are about them.”
—Charlie, The Perks of Being a Wallflower
Is that incompetence I smell? Because you reek of it
03 Jan 2012 Leave a Comment
in random thoughts and crazy wonderings, sadness and everything along with it
Today, I discovered a major advantage of talking to a stranger. Well, not a complete stranger, but a stranger all the same. I should probably stop saying stranger. Stranger.
Anyway, you know those times when you really feel like shit and you consider the people you’re comfortable enough to talk to and can vent out your frustrations to—but you can’t think of anyone in particular you want to talk to? Today is one of those days. Fortunately for me, I know a stranger I’ve been strangers with for a few years now.
One good thing about being strangers with someone is that you could say a fuckload of crap and not care if they are stupid. Because let’s be honest, they really are. So today just to get something out of my mind and just let it out there, I talked to him.
She: hey stranger
Him: hey you
She: did you ever consider writing as a profession?
Him: well, my English isn’t really good, for one.
Him: you’re still with [insert company name here]?
She: yep, although I’m not sure now why they hired me in the first place. Ugh. I feel so incompetent.
Him: when do you feel incompetent?
She: the past few weeks—all the time.
She: it’s intoxicating how incompetence feels.
Him: hmn.. Well, maybe that’s not your genre?
She: I’m not really sure what my genre is anymore, or if I even have one.
She: what’s your niche?
She: poetry?
Him: you’re a commercial writer. If you wanna earn thru writing, you have to stay that way, but you’d definitely lose yourself.
Him: me? hmn. I like to tell stories.
She: I do too
Him: you can’t always do what you like to do and then get paid.
She: I realize that, but I thought I could compromise with Life and at least write something else. But still write.
Him: “but still write…” I’m pretty sure you find that disturbing too. “BUT still write…”
She: yeah I’m realizing that now
Him: just come up with a good crap you’d say to yourself every time it becomes all too disturbing.
She: give me one
Him: “compromise with Life and at least write something else. But still write.”
She: well, apparently, that doesn’t work. Give me another one.
Him: “This pays the bills.”
I guess it does. Case closed. Move forward, stinky Jane. Take a shower of glittery Optimism and let your fragrant Confidence wash away the reek of your Incompetence.
Good things come to those who wait
26 Dec 2011 Leave a Comment
in E, happy thoughts
It has been a happy Christmas this 2011. I was able to spend time with people I love and I was pleasantly surprised to have received gifts at all! As I mentioned before, E and I exchanged gifts early and I didn’t expect he’d give me the watch I wanted. It’s incredibly sweet because he remembered that I liked it (I mentioned it only once months ago when we first saw it). Then friends and people from the office gave me gifts even though I don’t spend as much time there anymore. It’s so amazing to even be included in their list of recipients.
Plus, the gifts I received this year are amazing! I received stuff I’ve been thinking about buying but put off because of one reason or another. That’s why I’m doubly amused that I got them anyway. I now have the bag hook I’ve been looking for since last year (!) nice earphones, and cute robot mini speakers. Yay!
I keep all the Christmas tags. 
I’ve also spent Christmas evening with Eric at their home. We just had dinner and watched a movie, but the mere fact that we were together on Christmas was enough for me. I’m thankful that I get to spend time with him during special occasions such as this one. Then the following morning, we had brunch at (the newly-opened) Army Navy along Katipunan. We were the first customers and the speakers were blasting off Christmas renditions from She & Him.
E says hello.
Just the combination of being with one of your favorite people, eating your favorite food, and hearing good music from a great band was enough to make me happy. It trumps everything negative I’ve felt prior Christmas. I realized no one could ruin a good day for me if I have my friends and loved ones to always put a smile back on my face. You just have to be patient—because good things come to those who wait.
So, happy Christmas to everyone who made mine wonderful—family, friends, and E.
Sopas Talks
24 Dec 2011 Leave a Comment
in love and cheesiness, random thoughts and crazy wonderings, sadness and everything along with it
It doesn’t mean that if you love someone, you’re going to be loved back in return. In life, more often than not (unless you’re lucky) you’re going to be dumped good and hard by the people you care about the most.
But I discovered that I can love someone even if he can’t (or won’t) love me back. Because after all the pain and hell I went through, I am surprised and proud of myself that I’m still capable of love.
It shows that even if a person undergoes tremendous sacrifices for the sake of love, love is even greater after the heartache than before it, because that’s the time when the person really appreciates the true meaning of love. And I think those people who have not experienced serious heartaches are the ones missing out on love, and all the lessons love can teach them. Not the other way around.
I’m not saying go out there and have your heart broken. I guess what I’m trying to point out is that people are weird, to the extent that the more they are hurt, the more they learn, and the more they want to still risk being hurt and learning.
And oh, I pondered over all of these while eating sopas this morning.
*original post date: December 8, 2007
Rhian Ramos, go shit up a rope
07 Dec 2011 Leave a Comment
in rants Tags: rhian ramos abortion
Okay, I officially hate Showbiz and everything along with it. It’s not even that Rhian Ramos might or might not have her baby aborted. It’s that she’s making all the wrong statements to get people to pity her.
Yes, tramp, you were too young to have been involved with a 29-year old and everybody agrees that it might have been the stupidest thing for you to do. But so what, right? You fell in love. I can accept that. But bullshit, you had sex over and over and over and over again. That’s not a “stupid mistake”. You liked that. And then you probably got pregnant and realized at that point that, hey—having sex can result to other things. And then who knew honest-to-goodness what she really did, then? I don’t know either, but I hate her reaction to that video. It’s unbelievable.
I hate people pretending it’s all a mistake just because their Pandora’s Box has been opened and all their fuckadoodles have been exposed. Such a bunch of hypocrites, and Rhian Ramos is a big one.
I can’t take it. I hate hating her because I’m not supposed to care in the first place. But she’s so unbelievably brainless, even Pia Guanio is looking like Einstein right now. I won’t even talk about Mo Twister and his non-existent balls, because at least he’s honest that he doesn’t have any.
Ugh.
We’re a walking cliché
03 Dec 2011 Leave a Comment
in E, love and cheesiness
Today is the 3rd. But I didn’t really realize what today is until E asked me on the MRT ride home. And besides, we don’t celebrate a “monthsary”. But yeah, today is the 3rd. And it just so happened that I decided to give his Christmas gift early this year. What I didn’t expect was that he would give his. And I cracked up when I saw his gift for me.
He gave me the Swatch Lady Double Tour that I was thinking of buying for myself (glad I didn’t). And it was yellow! Imagine how giddy I was.
I gave him a classic black watch with leather band from Zoo York. I think it’s really pretty. If there was a smaller version of this, I would’ve bought one for myself.
I find it really funny that we always give the same gifts. For our anniversary this year, we both gave each other necklaces. So yeah, we’re a walking cliché . 
Put a smile on your face, this is awesome
27 Nov 2011 Leave a Comment
in philosophy, pictures
I find it healthy to write about everything you are thinking about, the moment you think about them. You never know if they are brilliant ideas to other people; never know if they could change people’s mind, convince them or simply just make them feel better.
C.S. Lewis (supposedly, I’m not entirely sure) said, “We read to know we are not alone”. It’s probably why I love reading books. And probably why I don’t mind people reading what I write about, even if sometimes it gets too personal.
So now what I’m thinking about is how much I love elephants. I like almost all animals, with the exception of reptiles and some amphibians, but elephants I LOVE. Nearly as much as I love dogs. Elephants are intelligent, have great memory, gentle and look absolutely adorable. But I don’t want them domesticated. I love how they are free and seem so at peace with nature and with other animals (this is just my own opinion though).
The past few days I’ve been active in my Tumblr account again and I’m seeing a lot of photos of elephants and I smile whenever I see one. They are just so adorable and they are breathtaking. Elephants are lovely creatures.
Here are some of my favorites, hoping they could make someone else smile too.
The end. Did you smile?
What a beautiful mess this is
27 Nov 2011 Leave a Comment
in philosophy, quotes that make you go whoa, random thoughts and crazy wonderings
It’s funny. Usually when I decide I’m tired, I just drop everything. Most of the time, I just give up whatever it was I was doing, lie down and rest. When it comes to my own issues, it’s the same. Right now I’m tired of having issues and storing up negative feelings. I’m not sure if I’m going to give them up completely but right now I’m glad I get to do that.
I’ve let go of my negative feelings towards certain people for now. I’ve grown tired of dealing with it and explaining to people why what they’re expecting is far from happening—at least anytime soon.
What I am doing instead is enjoying the little things; Listening to music I like. Watching shows and movies I find entertaining (Charlie Chaplin will never be not entertaining). Talking to interesting people. Talking to them about interesting things. Being sad together and being happy together. Knowing that there are still people who get you.
And what about the rest whom I don’t get to talk to and see? I usually don’t think about them, except now when I thought about why I don’t talk to and see them. I don’t hate them. I don’t care enough to hate anyone right now. And it’s easier to do that now than before. I’m not sure if that’s ultimately good or bad—but for now I feel good. I get to let go of everything negative.
And speaking of letting go of everything negative, every night I read from my book “Perks of Being a Wallflower”. And Charlie said something particularly beautiful to Sam. It involved The Beatles so I’m going to share it here:
Last came Sam. I had been thinking about this present for a long time. I think I thought about this present from the first time I really saw her. Not met her or saw her but the first time I really saw her if you know what I mean. There was a card attached.
Inside the card, I told Sam that the present I gave her was given to me by my Aunt Helen. It was an old 45 record that had the Beatles’ song “Something.” I used to listen to it all the time when I was little and thinking about grown-up things. I would go to my bedroom window and stare at my reflection in the glass and the trees behind it and just listen to the song for hours. I decided then that when I met someone I thought was as beautiful as the song, I should give it to that person. And I didn’t mean beautiful on the outside. I meant beautiful in all ways. So, I was giving it to Sam.
Sam looked at me soft. And she hugged me. And I closed my eyes because I wanted to know nothing but her arms. And she kissed my cheek and whispered so nobody could hear.
“I love you.”
That was perfect. It really was.
And also because I’m on the subject of staying positive, I’m going to share some feel-good (and some not–but with feel-good melody) songs I’ve been listening to a lot recently. Thank God for these:
Something – The Beatles (of course)
Hey Jude – The Beatles
Magic – Colbie Caillat
Inevitable – Anberlin
You Make It Real – James Morrison
The Girl – City and Colour
Only You – Joshua Radin
Raindrops – Regina Spektor
Come Home – One Republic feat. Sara Bareilles
Bulletproof Weeks – Matt Nathanson
A Beautiful Mess – Jason Mraz
Staring at the stars in my ceiling
25 Nov 2011 2 Comments
in E, random thoughts and crazy wonderings
I am getting news that shocks me to my core. I am realizing things I never thought I would at my age. I am starting to feel at peace about certain things, and getting sleepless nights about the rest of the world’s worries. I am at awe at everything around me, most of the time. People interest me, but sometimes not enough to make me start a conversation.
I am looking forward to Christmas, to holding hands and laughing with E. I always cannot wait to spend another day with him. I am fascinated with colors. I want to draw on our wall. My brother promised me he’ll let me do a mural. Whatever I like. Gasp.
I like the name Charlie, even for a girl. I love listening to folk music now. It calms me. It reminds me of the one Saturday E and I went home because he needed his sleep. I watched TV the entire time he was asleep. And I got tired and I muted the TV and played some folk music instead. He never woke up because of my music. But when I poked his nose he did. And he told me sleepily to stop it or he would tackle me. I did it again. He didn’t wake up. What a weird person.
I miss Manila. Going through a chaotic morning in Taft Avenue, palpitating because the traffic is heavy and I was 30 minutes late for class. Again. I miss Baguio. The cold November nights remind me of that weekend two years ago.
I understand now that some people will stay in your life for only a certain period of time. And there is nothing wrong with that. No one stays forever. People change. Every day is a new day I should be thankful for because of the people who stayed yet another day with me. Every day is a decision to stay or go.
I want to read my book now. I love Charlie. I also want to feel infinite.
Going back through the pages of your life—literally
20 Nov 2011 1 Comment
in E, love and cheesiness
I read my college diary again last night. Every time I turned a page, I let out a heavy sigh. It felt so weird reading through all that again after more than a year of leaving it alone at the bottom of a drawer. But keeping a diary through all that was one of the best things I did.
It enabled me to appreciate what I have now because of all the things I read happened to us. It still gives me hope because my situation with E back then was utterly horrific, and to have a peaceful relationship now after all of that—it’s proof that love does exist. And I don’t mean it in a sappy-love-story kind of way. Love for me is not about big romantic gestures or giving flowers or saying I-love-yous on a regular basis, or even being sweet and cuddly all the time—because I’m not like that and neither is E.
Love for me is understanding each other’s faults and quirks and accepting those about the other person. It’s about being on the same page in life, or not being on the same page but compromising to reach a common ground. Love is not about trying to change who you are but inspiring you to be better. It’s not about you making him happy or him making you happy. It’s being happy with each other’s company—no pressure, no demands whatsoever. It’s not about how many times you see each other or talk to each other. It’s keeping the emotional connection regardless of distance or time spent away from each other, and always having the same mutual fondness. Ultimately for me, love is not about having to sacrifice other things in your life to be with that person. It’s being able to experience more things, appreciate more other people and life because of that person. If it constricts and limits you about who you should be, for me that’s not healthy at all. But that’s just me. Everyone has their own definition of what “love” is supposed to be.
I was never the kid who dreamt about Prince Charming. But what do you know, I did find him. Not the type who rescues the damsel in distress from dragons and monsters. But the type who won’t leave you and let dragons and monsters to even come near you.
Experienced and highly skilled writer needed. Compensation: Minimum with a bonus of snide comments and thinly-veiled insults
14 Nov 2011 Leave a Comment
in random thoughts and crazy wonderings
I was browsing for freelance writing jobs in Craigslist this morning. I haven’t browsed for jobs in a long time, so I’ve forgotten how much I hate reading ads for writers. I don’t know. It’s just that you immediately recognize the ones that will only exploit your skills, those who hope they could squeeze the words out of you and pay you chump change.
And the way they write their ads:
- MUST possess excellent English grammar and writing skills
- MUST be able to quickly and thoroughly research new topics
- MUST be familiar with keyword-based SEO within content
- MUST create original work. Will be using Copyscape to check for plagiarism
- MUST adhere to deadlines
It sounds so demanding, especially because of the “must” written in all caps. But there may still be people who’ll be up for the challenge upon reading the requirements. Except when they read this line immediately after:
Compensation: $4 US per 500 words
Are you kidding me? Seriously? You think the number of words is the only basis for how much you’re going to pay a writer?
It’s insulting. It’s sad that most of the ads I read are like this. A few months ago some colleagues and I were also talking about writing as a career. The conversation went like this, but not verbatim anymore:
“My dream job is still travel writing. There’s actually a course somewhere in XXX that I am interested to take.”
“Does travel writing pay a lot?”
“Yun nga e, not so much.”
“A starving writer is so cliché. It’s not so much a question of passion. Travel writing is fun. You get to travel, and write stuff you actually enjoy writing but it’s difficult to pursue, especially here.”
“But for me, writing is not so much as passion as it is a skill. Probably why it’s okay with me to stay at a corporate setup and do business writing. There is still so much to learn. I just like the learning experience. And let’s face it, corporate writing pays more.”
What’s most depressing about the way non-writers look at writers is that they think they’re being fair. Their complete lack of awareness and respect for other people’s talent is just plain disturbing.
I wish I hadn’t opened Craigslist if I knew it would get me down. I’ll look for a freelance job some other day.
How’s It Gonna Be
12 Oct 2011 Leave a Comment
in random thoughts and crazy wonderings
I can’t figure out if it’s a good thing or a bad thing. I get to interact with different types of people on a regular basis. People who have interests that are worlds apart; people whose age varies from early twenties to late forties, and all their stories interest me and I have little snippets of things in common with them.
I know little somethings enough to strike a conversation, to ignite friendship even. I do have a wide spectrum of interests myself, and that worries me.
Interest is one thing to me, passion is another. I take a look at all the people I know, and most of them, at first look, you already know what type of person they are. Their passions clearly show their personality and that’s what makes them so interesting and easy (or not easy) to get along with.
I take a look at myself and I see someone who is as messy as her hair, always. One day I can be the twenty something working in an office and who has occasional dinners with her friends; the next day I can be the peculiar loner who writes alone in a corner of a coffee shop, just watching people and being totally weird. I get to be someone who other people wonder about if someone had left or broken up with, sitting alone and constantly watching the door. Other times I can also be the social butterfly who shares a laugh or two with people from the office, people from her own team.
I get along with different groups of individuals who—when I think about it—will not exactly get along if I put them all together in one room. And I wonder why. And I think it’s because they have something definitive about them. And I don’t.
One can’t exactly pin me down to one stereotype, and sometimes that’s rather confusing. Like I said, I don’t know if it’s a good or a bad thing.
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