Bisaya Bloggers

My mother sent me some 11,005 liters worth of Four Seasons Juice.  Before anything, I would like to interrupt myself with a memory.  Those that become my friends eventually know that my mother works for Del Monte, Inc.  And that I tell myself if it's another brand I'm allergic to it.  When the new juice came out as "Four Seasons" my friends immediately asked me about it.  See, my last name is Sison.  And that time, there were only four of us children.  It's amusing, really.  What coincidence. 

Anyway, not totally unrelated to that, but somewhat on a different note, I get back to the 11,005 liters of Four Seasons.  I was beginning to get sick of it.  When it came, I did not know water.  Breakfast, lunch, dinner, Four Seasons.  I brushed my teeth with the liquid.  Until my drinking persona awoke within me and gave me divine intervention.  It's amazing how the lack of money to go for videoke can inspire such thoughts.

The idea wasn't really inspiring.  Not even unique.  But for two days of talking to random people if they purchased from ^%$#@ TV or saying they're credit card's expired, Four Seasons rung like magic. Four Seasons with alcohol.  The name for that is Distraction.

If you had been acquainted with me personally, or through my writings, what you are about to read will make you think I am contradicting myself.  And take note, I am not happy to be contradicting myself. 

I need a shrink.  I hate analyzing myself.  And I hate the word Analyze.  Thank Sudarshan Khadka, Jr. for that.

Who was I to pity?  Who was I to feel lucky?  I had enough resources to support me, to cover my screw-ups and start over.  I was merely passing the time away.  So was everyone.  I was in a tunnel with the rest of the lost boys.  And all this time I thought I wasn't.  I'd think, at least I could move on.  I'd be burning with passion any day now, just you wait.  Then reality gave me this out-of-body experience.  I was one with the stars, looking at myself, with the rest of them.  Not as people drowning in the crowds of people.  But as frustrated youths.  So this was how it felt?

I am a passionate being.  A fighter for love.  If only I could fight for everyone.  And the 11,005 liters of Four Seasons took its toll on me and squeezed my chest.  I realized it was indeed coincidence.  The world did not revolve around me.  Fuck Paulo Coehlo and the universe.  I did not want to die, but who fucking cared?  They were just as lost as I was.

Yet, if I were to end this train of thought with this kind of mood, wouldn't you think there was no future for me?

Then maybe it is better to move on with a lie.  Before you and I condemn me as a loser, I'd just like to scream to the world that I own.  And the name for that is Empowerment.

Time was moving really slowly.  Nothing happened.  Well.

I was just waiting for time to pass by.  And I wasn't expecting anything special.  Even the British accent forced unto us at work was nothing new.  I used to play with my sisters with a British accent.  How hard could this be?  The schedule was for a graveyard shift.  But I went through my college years, as an architecture student no less, without coffee.  Having an erratic schedule in work was not a challenge. 

I could not write about anything else.  Except perhaps about my tea with one Architect, Alex Medalla, courtesy of Chris.  As of now I cannot articulate about our encounter.  All I can manage at the moment is tell you that it was the first time I had heard an opinion like that about Filipino architecture in my very short time "living with it".  I shall relate the details of that another time because my head is still ringing from the beer I drank a few hours ago.

Yes, I had been living in Cebu for two months now, without the lack of drinking.  Somehow drinking was as natural as riding the bike.  No matter who the company was. 

As my co-workers said, I was a "call center virgin".  It was a state of being unacquainted with the industry, no matter what I heard from others.  Experience, as the cliche went, is the best teacher.  It was somehow surprising that after a few days, you hit off with these people you'd never known before.  And you'd feel like you were inseparable.  Tight.  BFF. 

It was a play of highly complicated acts.  A tango by social animals of notorious skills.  Let the game begin.

From This:

To This:

Who's the rock star?  I am the rock star! *out to kill*

On Sale.  These words did not mean much to me back in the days when I still lived off of my dad.  Budget was a foreign word.  Alternative?  There was no alternative.  It was either I got it or I didn't.

:blank:

Nah forget it.  The truth is, I'm not moping about anything.  My life in the past sure was great.  I don't miss it.  Yet.  This life I'm living right now is still brand-spanking-new, and I'm like a three-year old with a new toy.  I'm exploring every edge and corner.  And I should, before my attention wanes.

So let me tell you about what I've been doing all this time, before your attention wanes.

I have not started work yet.  However, I have met my co-workers and interacted with them for the first time yesterday.  The new environment is again keeping me excited.  And like any other girl, perhaps the new clothes and shoes are something to look forward to.  I'm just worrying that when I dress up, the higher-ups might think they're paying me too much.  Ohohohoho.  

For the first time in my life I have been living on budget, and sticking to it.  For the two weeks I've started it, I have actually learned to say "eew, carbs" or "I'm not hungry, really".  I'm also doing regular exercise, remembering what doctors say.  Weighing in daily is keeping me motivated, and so far I have lost about 6 lbs in a week.  God damn.  

To stay on budget I have been cooking almost everyday now.  And every single time I hold that knife, and put those ingredients together, increases my anticipation about cooking school.  I so want to learn more.  I want it BADLY.  It's like the pabitin that's dangling over my head.  Every single day I wake up and think I'm closer to what I really want, which is totally different from how I lived my life before.  So what do I do to inch closer to that pabitin?

Bring in the heels, shall we?

What I like about this life is that the shopping has not ended.  And I have learned to cherish the words "On Sale".  Those are just music to my ears.  Cebu has one of the greatest designs at jaw-dropping prices.  Shopping takes me to a very comfortable spot in my soul, a place where there's no denying I'm still here, this is still real, I'm still me.   

On Sale.  These words did not mean much to me back in the days when I still lived off of my dad.  Budget was a foreign word.  Alternative?  There was no alternative.  It was either I got it or I didn't.

:blank:

Nah forget it.  The truth is, I'm not moping about anything.  My life in the past sure was great.  I don't miss it.  Yet.  This life I'm living right now is still brand-spanking-new, and I'm like a three-year old with a new toy.  I'm exploring every edge and corner.  And I should, before my attention wanes.

So let me tell you about what I've been doing all this time, before your attention wanes.

I have not started work yet.  However, I have met my co-workers and interacted with them for the first time yesterday.  The new environment is again keeping me excited.  And like any other girl, perhaps the new clothes and shoes are something to look forward to.  I'm just worrying that when I dress up, the higher-ups might think they're paying me too much.  Ohohohoho.  

For the first time in my life I have been living on budget, and sticking to it.  For the two weeks I've started it, I have actually learned to say "eew, carbs" or "I'm not hungry, really".  I'm also doing regular exercise, remembering what doctors say.  Weighing in daily is keeping me motivated, and so far I have lost about 6 lbs in a week.  God damn.  

To stay on budget I have been cooking almost everyday now.  And every single time I hold that knife, and put those ingredients together, increases my anticipation about cooking school.  I so want to learn more.  I want it BADLY.  It's like the pabitin that's dangling over my head.  Every single day I wake up and think I'm closer to what I really want, which is totally different from how I lived my life before.  So what do I do to inch closer to that pabitin?

Bring in the heels, shall we?

What I like about this life is that the shopping has not ended.  And I have learned to cherish the words "On Sale".  Those are just music to my ears.  Cebu has one of the greatest designs at jaw-dropping prices.  Shopping takes me to a very comfortable spot in my soul, a place where there's no denying I'm still here, this is still real, I'm still me.   

1. Pick up the nearest book of at least 123 pages.
2. Open the book to page 123.
3. Find the fifth sentence.
4. Post the next three sentences.
5. Tag five people.

I would like to explain to Khonz that I totally forgot I was tagged.  Yeah, such is the busy life of a bum.   

Ahem.  So here I go.  

1.  There are 5 books that are in one pile closest to me.  This means... I am confused.  Debating which to pick up, I examine which one is at least a centimeter closer. 

a: The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People;
b: Hard-boiled Wonderland and the End of the World;
c: Epic;
d: Reader's Digest;
e: Wuthering Heights

I decide on a, not because it was closest, but because of the following:

This book, I never got past chapter two.  And if I play along with this meme, something universal might just be revealed to me.

2-3.  The fifth sentence goes:

An understanding of the principle of our own growth enables us to search out correct principles with the confidence that the more we learn, the more clearly we can focus the lens through which we see the world.

On that, I had recently been reading this book entitled "How to Speak and Write Better".  The author of book A is making us readers suffer, when he should bear in mind we are not that forgiving.  He should have remembered that he was writing for readers who were ineffective in the first place, people who probably had no patience to read that sentence a hundred times. No wonder I never got past chapter two.  This book sucked.  

4.  The next three sentences go:

The principles don't change; our understanding of them does.

The wisdom and guidance that accompany principle-centered living come from correct maps, from the way things really are, have been, and will be.

Correct maps enable us to clearly see where we want to go and how to get there.

I should remove my bookmark from this book already.

5.  Now I tag five people.  If you are not chosen, it does not mean I don't like you, or that you have no place in my heart.  I will be choosing by the following criteria:

5.1- that you will do this meme without a second thought;
5.2- or that you will have second thoughts but will do this anyway because I SAY SO. 

And so I tag...

Lenibee, Racstar, Banuk, Reggie, Isocetin. 

Reggie, it is actually acceptable that you pass.  It is because I play favorites.  

A news reporter headlined this summer as The Summer of Discontent. Every news channel was all about the rallies, oil, and natural calamities around the world. I looked into the mirror.

Show me that game-face, baby.

Just great. 21 years old and I still had breakouts. It's not that I think I'm a superior being but other people were supposed to get those pimples. Just when I was about to go for my final interview. Then I wondered. What did employers think about applicants who had pimples?

I tried out the blouse I'd wear for the interview. When I opened the buttons it was probably the first time in my life I saw myself like that. It was horrible. This was not a grown woman's chest! Between the breasts that were hidden from the view was a vast desert. 21 years old, at 130 lbs., and I had no cleavage. I was no hermaphrodite! I thought at least when I gained weight this could be compensated. It was fine to gain weight as long as my stomach could not match my breasts in horizontal distance from my spinal column. But if my breasts remained like this, and my stomach was ever growing as if it had a fetus inside, this was dangerous. I would no longer count as "hot".

After hearing me, my friends would often say "you'd been complaining for four years, so what's new?" What's new was that while I was sitting and typing this, I could feel the skin of my stomach pressing against my breasts.

Just a few days ago I decided to decline a high-paying call center job for a more "challenging" work with lesser pay. I might sound like a princess complaining about her cellulites, but the truth is, I'm scared shitless. I am about to embark on a new voyage. Consider it a new dimension entirely. It's not like the line from my childhood will continue. It's as if the end point of that line has been lifted to a different axis and allowed to continue in a new direction. Jesus Christ, I'm talking in planes and figures!

My mother told me that the only way to pull through with work was thinking it was my only means of survival. I needed it, and without it, I'd starve. Worse, I couldn't shop. And so I recited it in my head a hundred times: Do or Die. She cut me short.

"Bear in mind that if you screw this up, you'll be pulling your school's name with you."

University of the Philippines- a breeding place for n00bs.

That was the scarier thought. I couldn't do that to UP.

So I was now four hours away from moving out of my parents' house. For good. My parents had officially lifted the chains. In four hours I was to become one of society's... er, problems. I was about to become one with Reality like having sex for the first time with the lights on. When Do or Die sounded too negative, I'd switch to Love and Fight. It was kind of early for me to conclude about life but for now I decided there were only two things that a person had to do to survive: Love and Fight.

Still, my stomach pressing against my breasts was the reality check I needed.

A news reporter headlined this summer as The Summer of Discontent. Every news channel was all about the rallies, oil, and natural calamities around the world. I looked into the mirror.

Show me that game-face, baby.

Just great. 21 years old and I still had breakouts. It's not that I think I'm a superior being but other people were supposed to get those pimples. Just when I was about to go for my final interview. Then I wondered. What did employers think about applicants who had pimples?

I tried out the blouse I'd wear for the interview. When I opened the buttons it was probably the first time in my life I saw myself like that. It was horrible. This was not a grown woman's chest! Between the breasts that were hidden from the view was a vast desert. 21 years old, at 130 lbs., and I had no cleavage. I was no hermaphrodite! I thought at least when I gained weight this could be compensated. It was fine to gain weight as long as my stomach could not match my breasts in horizontal distance from my spinal column. But if my breasts remained like this, and my stomach was ever growing as if it had a fetus inside, this was dangerous. I would no longer count as "hot".

After hearing me, my friends would often say "you'd been complaining for four years, so what's new?" What's new was that while I was sitting and typing this, I could feel the skin of my stomach pressing against my breasts.

Just a few days ago I decided to decline a high-paying call center job for a more "challenging" work with lesser pay. I might sound like a princess complaining about her cellulites, but the truth is, I'm scared shitless. I am about to embark on a new voyage. Consider it a new dimension entirely. It's not like the line from my childhood will continue. It's as if the end point of that line has been lifted to a different axis and allowed to continue in a new direction. Jesus Christ, I'm talking in planes and figures!

My mother told me that the only way to pull through with work was thinking it was my only means of survival. I needed it, and without it, I'd starve. Worse, I couldn't shop. And so I recited it in my head a hundred times: Do or Die. She cut me short.

"Bear in mind that if you screw this up, you'll be pulling your school's name with you."

University of the Philippines- a breeding place for n00bs.

That was the scarier thought. I couldn't do that to UP.

So I was now four hours away from moving out of my parents' house. For good. My parents had officially lifted the chains. In four hours I was to become one of society's... er, problems. I was about to become one with Reality like having sex for the first time with the lights on. When Do or Die sounded too negative, I'd switch to Love and Fight. It was kind of early for me to conclude about life but for now I decided there were only two things that a person had to do to survive: Love and Fight.

Still, my stomach pressing against my breasts was the reality check I needed.

1. Pick up the nearest book of at least 123 pages.
2. Open the book to page 123.
3. Find the fifth sentence.
4. Post the next three sentences.
5. Tag five people.

I would like to explain to Khonz that I totally forgot I was tagged.  Yeah, such is the busy life of a bum.   

Ahem.  So here I go.  

1.  There are 5 books that are in one pile closest to me.  This means... I am confused.  Debating which to pick up, I examine which one is at least a centimeter closer. 

a: The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People;
b: Hard-boiled Wonderland and the End of the World;
c: Epic;
d: Reader's Digest;
e: Wuthering Heights

I decide on a, not because it was closest, but because of the following:

This book, I never got past chapter two.  And if I play along with this meme, something universal might just be revealed to me.

2-3.  The fifth sentence goes:

An understanding of the principle of our own growth enables us to search out correct principles with the confidence that the more we learn, the more clearly we can focus the lens through which we see the world.

On that, I had recently been reading this book entitled "How to Speak and Write Better".  The author of book A is making us readers suffer, when he should bear in mind we are not that forgiving.  He should have remembered that he was writing for readers who were ineffective in the first place, people who probably had no patience to read that sentence a hundred times. No wonder I never got past chapter two.  This book sucked.  

4.  The next three sentences go:

The principles don't change; our understanding of them does.

The wisdom and guidance that accompany principle-centered living come from correct maps, from the way things really are, have been, and will be.

Correct maps enable us to clearly see where we want to go and how to get there.

I should remove my bookmark from this book already.

5.  Now I tag five people.  If you are not chosen, it does not mean I don't like you, or that you have no place in my heart.  I will be choosing by the following criteria:

5.1- that you will do this meme without a second thought;
5.2- or that you will have second thoughts but will do this anyway because I SAY SO. 

And so I tag...

Lenibee, Racstar, Banuk, Reggie, Isocetin. 

Reggie, it is actually acceptable that you pass.  It is because I play favorites.  

1. Pick up the nearest book of at least 123 pages.
2. Open the book to page 123.
3. Find the fifth sentence.
4. Post the next three sentences.
5. Tag five people.

I would like to explain to Khonz that I totally forgot I was tagged.  Yeah, such is the busy life of a bum.   

Ahem.  So here I go.  

1.  There are 5 books that are in one pile closest to me.  This means... I am confused.  Debating which to pick up, I examine which one is at least a centimeter closer. 

a: The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People;
b: Hard-boiled Wonderland and the End of the World;
c: Epic;
d: Reader's Digest;
e: Wuthering Heights

I decide on a, not because it was closest, but because of the following:

This book, I never got past chapter two.  And if I play along with this meme, something universal might just be revealed to me.

2-3.  The fifth sentence goes:

An understanding of the principle of our own growth enables us to search out correct principles with the confidence that the more we learn, the more clearly we can focus the lens through which we see the world.

On that, I had recently been reading this book entitled "How to Speak and Write Better".  The author of book A is making us readers suffer, when he should bear in mind we are not that forgiving.  He should have remembered that he was writing for readers who were ineffective in the first place, people who probably had no patience to read that sentence a hundred times. No wonder I never got past chapter two.  This book sucked.  

4.  The next three sentences go:

The principles don't change; our understanding of them does.

The wisdom and guidance that accompany principle-centered living come from correct maps, from the way things really are, have been, and will be.

Correct maps enable us to clearly see where we want to go and how to get there.

I should remove my bookmark from this book already.

5.  Now I tag five people.  If you are not chosen, it does not mean I don't like you, or that you have no place in my heart.  I will be choosing by the following criteria:

5.1- that you will do this meme without a second thought;
5.2- or that you will have second thoughts but will do this anyway because I SAY SO. 

And so I tag...

Lenibee, Racstar, Banuk, Reggie, Isocetin. 

Reggie, it is actually acceptable that you pass.  It is because I play favorites.  

So I started writing, and it was getting good, and I suddenly closed the browser for some reason, without saving my draft, and I'm annoyed, so I probably won't write it again, whatever it was. :irked:

Since I'm here anyway, I'll just do an update of my life, for those who care. I'm now officially hooked to golf. I want to play it everyday, if I can only have someone to play with. Playing it alone is scary. It's a war zone out there. These 7-year old kids nail it better than I do.

Other than that I'm on my butt, doing nothing. It'd have been good if I was writing while sitting on my butt, but I'm doing nothing.  Oh wait, I'm not really doing nothing.  I play the Sims 2.  And just so you have an idea how much time I spend on it, this whole town is now occupied with the children of my first family.  And I play all the houses.

Well if I'm in the mood to write a more decent post without clumsily closing my browser, I'll let you know. That's the least I can do. :bored:

So I started writing, and it was getting good, and I suddenly closed the browser for some reason, without saving my draft, and I'm annoyed, so I probably won't write it again, whatever it was. :irked:

Since I'm here anyway, I'll just do an update of my life, for those who care. I'm now officially hooked to golf. I want to play it everyday, if I can only have someone to play with. Playing it alone is scary. It's a war zone out there. These 7-year old kids nail it better than I do.

Other than that I'm on my butt, doing nothing. It'd have been good if I was writing while sitting on my butt, but I'm doing nothing.  Oh wait, I'm not really doing nothing.  I play the Sims 2.  And just so you have an idea how much time I spend on it, this whole town is now occupied with the children of my first family.  And I play all the houses.

Well if I'm in the mood to write a more decent post without clumsily closing my browser, I'll let you know. That's the least I can do. :bored:

When my parents told me to study Culinary Arts in Cebu City, I said yes.  They were to pay for my full tuition and school expenses.  To ease the guilt I said they wouldn't need to give me allowance.  I'd work for it myself.  And so everyone had high hopes for this new thing.  I was to go to Cebu to pay for the reservation fee.  I am at the verge of ending my second day here, and the God of surprises is still having so much fun with me.  I say "Bring it on!".  So confident in words, when in reality I am crushed.  To tears.

No. 1: Beggars Can't Be Choosy. 

The first step was to look for the school building.  We were told it was right across ______ High School.  When we looked, there were no "buildings".  There were old houses and karinderias.  We asked around and were finally directed to a house with a gate.  My dad and I looked at each other.  Oh I knew what he was thinking.  His face said it all. 

The school was this old house, with extensions at the back.  I was able to look inside the pastry kitchen, and I felt relieved.  As the saying goes, don't judge the book by its cover.  Besides, my dad and I heard testimonials from family friends.  The place was run by an excellent faculty, the curriculum sounded good, the students got to have internships abroad, etc. etc.  I'm an optimist, by the way.

No. 2: I am Black Sheep.

Now that I was to live here in Cebue, we had to look for a place to stay.  My sister was living in a rotting house which she described to me was termite-infested.  I had not yet seen the place.  An option was to move in with her, if the place was okay with me. 

When I went to inspect the place, I was speechless.  My sister's roommate Lai said the place had an ideal price in an ideal location, but it was deteriorating.  Who knew the structure would cave in someday too?  I couldn't tell.  By termite-infested, they meant termite-infested.  The kitchen cabinets had decomposed to earth matter.  My father was willing to pay for the fixes but I estimated 30-50k, which I thought was not worth it for something we didn't own.  I suggested that if we found a newer place for the same rent, within the same area, then it would be perfect.  But my sister snapped that I was not even here all this time to look for a new place, and apparently I wouldn't be here to manage the repaires if the plan was to take effect.  So she said I had no right to complain.  I said it was beyond my control because mom wouldn't allow me to stay here until I got a job, and they were paying for my survival.  I was still thinking about the school, then I was bombarded with depressing stuff like this, I could not help but burst to tears.  Hello, Real Life.

No. 3: When The Cat Is Away, The Mouse Will Play.

Upon hearing our "sisterly" conversation, my dad had decided to move my flight to a later date to buy time to look for that perfect apartment.  But my sister had work, and my dad had to play golf, and I didn't know Cebu city enough to be looking for the place myself.  I also did not have anything packed, as the trip was originally one night only.  My dad left me his ATM card.  I thought I was really depressed today, or it's probably PMS.  And there's one tried and tested quick fix to euphoria and back.  Ladies and gentlemen, this shopping express is brought to you by Daddy's gas card, thank you.  I almost gave my father his first heart attack when he found out how much I spent.  (This information has been proven to be a health risk and will not be disclosed.)

No. 4: There's Bo's Coffee Here.

The culinary school could not provide a definite schedule of classes.  Just that some weeks had three class days, some weeks had seven.  Hours were not definite either.  This popped the bubble of maintaining "regular" work while going to school.  I thought my best bet was to really go for home-based work, or freelance.

The people around me suggested the call center.  There were 6-month contracts that I could apply to.  This was fine with me.  But I wanted continuous work so that I didn't have to look again when school started.  It was just hard to look for that particular work, but I was doing fine with my design/graphic work that I'd been doing for a year now.  I was doing fine in Manila. 

Note to self: Baboysai is no longer in Manila.

I swallowed.  My chest tightened.  My body went numb.  It was not that I wasn't up for it suddenly.  But I had a rough two days and I just wanted to pause, and probably complain, then get on with it.  That's how I always got through things.  Bo's.  If it's times like this, Bo's it. 

This place, Cebu, was the origin of Bo's.  But it still didn't feel right.  I could not complain to my parents.  Pressured to earn my own money, find my own place, and prove to everyone that I live it, my heart ached.  I read that note to myself and realized the sad truth.  I had no friends here.  I was alone. 

I remember saying if it's worth it, I'm not a quitter.  I must be a witch.  Because I believe in guts.  Bring it on, I say.  And fuck it all! 

When my parents told me to study Culinary Arts in Cebu City, I said yes.  They were to pay for my full tuition and school expenses.  To ease the guilt I said they wouldn't need to give me allowance.  I'd work for it myself.  And so everyone had high hopes for this new thing.  I was to go to Cebu to pay for the reservation fee.  I am at the verge of ending my second day here, and the God of surprises is still having so much fun with me.  I say "Bring it on!".  So confident in words, when in reality I am crushed.  To tears.

No. 1: Beggars Can't Be Choosy. 

The first step was to look for the school building.  We were told it was right across ______ High School.  When we looked, there were no "buildings".  There were old houses and karinderias.  We asked around and were finally directed to a house with a gate.  My dad and I looked at each other.  Oh I knew what he was thinking.  His face said it all. 

The school was this old house, with extensions at the back.  I was able to look inside the pastry kitchen, and I felt relieved.  As the saying goes, don't judge the book by its cover.  Besides, my dad and I heard testimonials from family friends.  The place was run by an excellent faculty, the curriculum sounded good, the students got to have internships abroad, etc. etc.  I'm an optimist, by the way.

No. 2: I am Black Sheep.

Now that I was to live here in Cebue, we had to look for a place to stay.  My sister was living in a rotting house which she described to me was termite-infested.  I had not yet seen the place.  An option was to move in with her, if the place was okay with me. 

When I went to inspect the place, I was speechless.  My sister's roommate Lai said the place had an ideal price in an ideal location, but it was deteriorating.  Who knew the structure would cave in someday too?  I couldn't tell.  By termite-infested, they meant termite-infested.  The kitchen cabinets had decomposed to earth matter.  My father was willing to pay for the fixes but I estimated 30-50k, which I thought was not worth it for something we didn't own.  I suggested that if we found a newer place for the same rent, within the same area, then it would be perfect.  But my sister snapped that I was not even here all this time to look for a new place, and apparently I wouldn't be here to manage the repaires if the plan was to take effect.  So she said I had no right to complain.  I said it was beyond my control because mom wouldn't allow me to stay here until I got a job, and they were paying for my survival.  I was still thinking about the school, then I was bombarded with depressing stuff like this, I could not help but burst to tears.  Hello, Real Life.

No. 3: When The Cat Is Away, The Mouse Will Play.

Upon hearing our "sisterly" conversation, my dad had decided to move my flight to a later date to buy time to look for that perfect apartment.  But my sister had work, and my dad had to play golf, and I didn't know Cebu city enough to be looking for the place myself.  I also did not have anything packed, as the trip was originally one night only.  My dad left me his ATM card.  I thought I was really depressed today, or it's probably PMS.  And there's one tried and tested quick fix to euphoria and back.  Ladies and gentlemen, this shopping express is brought to you by Daddy's gas card, thank you.  I almost gave my father his first heart attack when he found out how much I spent.  (This information has been proven to be a health risk and will not be disclosed.)

No. 4: There's Bo's Coffee Here.

The culinary school could not provide a definite schedule of classes.  Just that some weeks had three class days, some weeks had seven.  Hours were not definite either.  This popped the bubble of maintaining "regular" work while going to school.  I thought my best bet was to really go for home-based work, or freelance.

The people around me suggested the call center.  There were 6-month contracts that I could apply to.  This was fine with me.  But I wanted continuous work so that I didn't have to look again when school started.  It was just hard to look for that particular work, but I was doing fine with my design/graphic work that I'd been doing for a year now.  I was doing fine in Manila. 

Note to self: Baboysai is no longer in Manila.

I swallowed.  My chest tightened.  My body went numb.  It was not that I wasn't up for it suddenly.  But I had a rough two days and I just wanted to pause, and probably complain, then get on with it.  That's how I always got through things.  Bo's.  If it's times like this, Bo's it. 

This place, Cebu, was the origin of Bo's.  But it still didn't feel right.  I could not complain to my parents.  Pressured to earn my own money, find my own place, and prove to everyone that I live it, my heart ached.  I read that note to myself and realized the sad truth.  I had no friends here.  I was alone. 

I remember saying if it's worth it, I'm not a quitter.  I must be a witch.  Because I believe in guts.  Bring it on, I say.  And fuck it all! 

So like, I was busy with a lot of things. Some aunt's clinic to design, Manga, working out, Manga, the Apocalypto DVD I'd been meaning to watch, Manga, Anime reruns, and oh, Manga. The allure of "No classes tomorrow" was just too much not to give in to. I always believed that if it's the summer, it's meant to be experienced during the night. No. That's not it. I'm just nocturnal, period. Because I'm not making sense so far, do read on, as I tell you why the truth hurts.

I had continued with this "lifestyle", as my mother called it, up to this very minute. It was now 4 A.M., but my body clock said it was the hour before going to bed. It wasn't always like this. It used to be 2 A.M, then 3, and that was it. But for the three weeks that I had been living here, out of school and out of work, something happened. Lucky Star. For those who don't know, it's a show where you watch high school girls in 5-year old bodies, going through EVERYDAY LIFE. It was absolutely mundane it would blow my brains to near-orgasmic levels. For three weeks I'd been marathoning the show, watching these girls talk about eggs over lunch. And if I missed this ritual, my brain refused to shut down. But this is not a review about Lucky Star. I told you what this would be all about.

Today I decided to try if Lucky Star was really the culprit and avoided touching the DVD. My dad, for lack of better things to do, brought me to the Pirated DVD Haven in this so-called mall. We originally went for the old Indiana Jones movies, but I tried getting other titles to see if my father's facial expression changed. Nope, it didn't. So I got even more. When I got home I became really excited to watch them, but when I looked at this new pile, I wasn't in the mood for anything we bought. Still, I loved experiments, and this was no experiment if I started with Lucky Star again. So I pushed Apocalypto and Sweeney Todd aside. I started on a Japanese series which was about a guy who could go back inside old pictures. Boring. Then there's this anime about a photographer who could blow things up with his camera. Lame. I mean, compared to Lucky Star's scenes of conversations in the subway, these videos seemed lifeless.

Yet, I still tried to stay away from Lucky Star. After watching The Other Boleyn Girl, my head actually hurt. Then I thought, you know Baboysai, maybe you just need some manga. So I traveled those agonizing 7 meters from my bed to my PC because I had to walk on tiptoe or my mom would wake up. I hated that. Now when I decided to read manga, unless there were new chapters, I usually started from the very beginning, even if I'd already read some 113 chapters five times. 3:30 A.M. was when my mother usually walked in, dressed for work, fired up and ready to go, but she'd stop and look at me in the eye as if I was not her child but a devil's spawn, creature of the night. I always thought I'd feel better if I didn't look back when I'd hear her open the door, but I just couldn't be that disrespectful. You know, moms liked to see you feel sorry for yourself for doing something, so I would turn and look guilty, and she'd walk away. Once she asked if this was the "lifestyle" I wanted, and maybe I should find jobs that had these hours or else I couldn't function as a normal human being. I could have told her all the reasons I told you, but I'd grown up, see. I 'd learned to keep my mouth shut about these things. So when she asked, I said "No, not really", and "I'm trying".

For a few days she had accepted my answer. But today when she walked in again, I was in the middle of the 15th chapter, and I frantically closed the manga and opened my Gmail as if to check for job emails, she was no longer convinced. She looked at me with that same look, except that she was in a yellow polo, wearing a blinding yellow jacket, and that look just made me even more uncomfortable. She told me the computer would have to be disconnected because I was already addicted. My heart somersaulted. I did not say a word.

My transient roommates Lenibee and Enriqueh could probably testify that if my manga-reading was interrupted, and hastily so, I would damn the world. You could call me fat or irresponsible all you like, but interrupting me while I'm with my manga could piss me off so much that no amount of sleeping or emotional eating could make me move on. And mind you, those activities were two of my 5 favorite things to do in my life, so this level of pissing me off was pretty damn important. One time, my boyfriend threatened to leave me and I cried for five whole minutes. Then I read manga and went to sleep.

That time when my mother asked, I should just have said "Yes, this is what I want, I don't give a flying f*ck what happens to the world between 6 A.M. and 12 NN. I'm not trying to change because I'm too weak-willed for now, being that I have no job and I'm not in school yet". Then again, maybe lying wasn't such a bad idea. If I had told her this truth, she'd have kicked my head off my shoulders, martial arts style.

Now where was that Lucky Star?

So like, I was busy with a lot of things. Some aunt's clinic to design, Manga, working out, Manga, the Apocalypto DVD I'd been meaning to watch, Manga, Anime reruns, and oh, Manga. The allure of "No classes tomorrow" was just too much not to give in to. I always believed that if it's the summer, it's meant to be experienced during the night. No. That's not it. I'm just nocturnal, period. Because I'm not making sense so far, do read on, as I tell you why the truth hurts.

I had continued with this "lifestyle", as my mother called it, up to this very minute. It was now 4 A.M., but my body clock said it was the hour before going to bed. It wasn't always like this. It used to be 2 A.M, then 3, and that was it. But for the three weeks that I had been living here, out of school and out of work, something happened. Lucky Star. For those who don't know, it's a show where you watch high school girls in 5-year old bodies, going through EVERYDAY LIFE. It was absolutely mundane it would blow my brains to near-orgasmic levels. For three weeks I'd been marathoning the show, watching these girls talk about eggs over lunch. And if I missed this ritual, my brain refused to shut down. But this is not a review about Lucky Star. I told you what this would be all about.

Today I decided to try if Lucky Star was really the culprit and avoided touching the DVD. My dad, for lack of better things to do, brought me to the Pirated DVD Haven in this so-called mall. We originally went for the old Indiana Jones movies, but I tried getting other titles to see if my father's facial expression changed. Nope, it didn't. So I got even more. When I got home I became really excited to watch them, but when I looked at this new pile, I wasn't in the mood for anything we bought. Still, I loved experiments, and this was no experiment if I started with Lucky Star again. So I pushed Apocalypto and Sweeney Todd aside. I started on a Japanese series which was about a guy who could go back inside old pictures. Boring. Then there's this anime about a photographer who could blow things up with his camera. Lame. I mean, compared to Lucky Star's scenes of conversations in the subway, these videos seemed lifeless.

Yet, I still tried to stay away from Lucky Star. After watching The Other Boleyn Girl, my head actually hurt. Then I thought, you know Baboysai, maybe you just need some manga. So I traveled those agonizing 7 meters from my bed to my PC because I had to walk on tiptoe or my mom would wake up. I hated that. Now when I decided to read manga, unless there were new chapters, I usually started from the very beginning, even if I'd already read some 113 chapters five times. 3:30 A.M. was when my mother usually walked in, dressed for work, fired up and ready to go, but she'd stop and look at me in the eye as if I was not her child but a devil's spawn, creature of the night. I always thought I'd feel better if I didn't look back when I'd hear her open the door, but I just couldn't be that disrespectful. You know, moms liked to see you feel sorry for yourself for doing something, so I would turn and look guilty, and she'd walk away. Once she asked if this was the "lifestyle" I wanted, and maybe I should find jobs that had these hours or else I couldn't function as a normal human being. I could have told her all the reasons I told you, but I'd grown up, see. I 'd learned to keep my mouth shut about these things. So when she asked, I said "No, not really", and "I'm trying".

For a few days she had accepted my answer. But today when she walked in again, I was in the middle of the 15th chapter, and I frantically closed the manga and opened my Gmail as if to check for job emails, she was no longer convinced. She looked at me with that same look, except that she was in a yellow polo, wearing a blinding yellow jacket, and that look just made me even more uncomfortable. She told me the computer would have to be disconnected because I was already addicted. My heart somersaulted. I did not say a word.

My transient roommates Lenibee and Enriqueh could probably testify that if my manga-reading was interrupted, and hastily so, I would damn the world. You could call me fat or irresponsible all you like, but interrupting me while I'm with my manga could piss me off so much that no amount of sleeping or emotional eating could make me move on. And mind you, those activities were two of my 5 favorite things to do in my life, so this level of pissing me off was pretty damn important. One time, my boyfriend threatened to leave me and I cried for five whole minutes. Then I read manga and went to sleep.

That time when my mother asked, I should just have said "Yes, this is what I want, I don't give a flying f*ck what happens to the world between 6 A.M. and 12 NN. I'm not trying to change because I'm too weak-willed for now, being that I have no job and I'm not in school yet". Then again, maybe lying wasn't such a bad idea. If I had told her this truth, she'd have kicked my head off my shoulders, martial arts style.

Now where was that Lucky Star?

The Moving On To Adulthood Chronicles.  MOTAC.  Hahaha sorry I couldn't help but laugh.  What a stupid acronym.

I actually tried job hunting today, via the internet.  Wow, the internet is amazing.  Yeah, you just had to know that too because reading this blog, I don't think you came to realize that.  

There are a lot of jobs out there, and a lot of them specifying "Male".  What the hell does that have to do with anything?  But well, I'm not in the mood to talk about gender inequality, especially since I just celebrated Mother's day with my family last night.  

(On that note though, one of my uncles made a speech about God making the women more beautiful than men so they'd be cherished, etc.  And I knew he meant well but having done a thesis totally related to that I had a lot of things going on in my head and caused me to stay quiet the whole evening lest I shock the children)

FYI, the job I'm looking for is nothing of specific nature.  It just needs to fit with my schedule when I'll be studying again in November, so it's preferably part-time.  Oh and it has to be something I'm capable of doing, in case that isn't one of the usual criteria. -_-

Considering I'm a fresh BS Architecture graduate, I went for the Engineering/Archi related ones first.  I wasn't sure if they were looking for part-timers with their job descriptions but the phrase "can work overtime" was a common one.  Well, it is kind of expected in this field.

CAD operators were quite a hit too.  But again the phrase just turns me off.  And didn't I mention some posts back that I'd scratch my eyes out the next time I do something on CAD again?  Especially if they ask me to "work overtime".  I know what that phrase means.  

My friend Enriqueh actually struck the gold mine when I got news of the work he got into.  His job was something like writing the concept papers and critique for the designs of the __________ firm. Not the best firm but that's one helluva kick-ass job if you ask me!  I'm salivating with jealousy.  Well, not really.  Just a teeny bit, like, 2% of my consciousness.

I found a similar job description though.  It says:

The Moving On To Adulthood Chronicles.  MOTAC.  Hahaha sorry I couldn't help but laugh.  What a stupid acronym.

I actually tried job hunting today, via the internet.  Wow, the internet is amazing.  Yeah, you just had to know that too because reading this blog, I don't think you came to realize that.  

There are a lot of jobs out there, and a lot of them specifying "Male".  What the hell does that have to do with anything?  But well, I'm not in the mood to talk about gender inequality, especially since I just celebrated Mother's day with my family last night.  

(On that note though, one of my uncles made a speech about God making the women more beautiful than men so they'd be cherished, etc.  And I knew he meant well but having done a thesis totally related to that I had a lot of things going on in my head and caused me to stay quiet the whole evening lest I shock the children)

FYI, the job I'm looking for is nothing of specific nature.  It just needs to fit with my schedule when I'll be studying again in November, so it's preferably part-time.  Oh and it has to be something I'm capable of doing, in case that isn't one of the usual criteria. -_-

Considering I'm a fresh BS Architecture graduate, I went for the Engineering/Archi related ones first.  I wasn't sure if they were looking for part-timers with their job descriptions but the phrase "can work overtime" was a common one.  Well, it is kind of expected in this field.

CAD operators were quite a hit too.  But again the phrase just turns me off.  And didn't I mention some posts back that I'd scratch my eyes out the next time I do something on CAD again?  Especially if they ask me to "work overtime".  I know what that phrase means.  

My friend Enriqueh actually struck the gold mine when I got news of the work he got into.  His job was something like writing the concept papers and critique for the designs of the __________ firm. Not the best firm but that's one helluva kick-ass job if you ask me!  I'm salivating with jealousy.  Well, not really.  Just a teeny bit, like, 2% of my consciousness.

I found a similar job description though.  It says:

I was typing away in my not-so-little fangirl forum, talking to online buddies, feeding my selfish hobby needs, when my cousin buzzed me.

He was in a panic. He said my parents' panic was contagious. So apparently my parents were in a panic as well. My sister had taken her leave because she was on her way to check if I was still alive. Because they could not contact my cellphone.

So I finally switched on my phone, and contacted my parents, and told them with a straight face (even if they couldn't see my face) that I'm fine, and that I still have a paper to finish, blah blah blah. I called my sister and she told me I was crazy. I told them I didn't actually turn my phone off, it was put on airplane mode accidentally (lies). When I talked to my dad, he seemed quite not his usual self, he was surprisingly calm and didn't say much. I realized he was probably restraining himself, because my sister told me everything. She said when my dad called her up, he was wondering if I refused to talk to them because I was too pressured and depressed. Wait, what did they think I'd do, suicide or something? Close, but parents are parents.

Then I also found out that my other sister had been planning to give me a gift, a trip to Palawan, if I was all depressed, and it was too late to say I was because I told them I was fine and they were really overreacting. I asked if I could have a PS3 instead. "Are you kidding me? You're an idiot for pulling that trick on us, and everybody got involved."

I know it wasn't supposed to be funny but it really gave me a good laugh. And for some reason, I also cried.

Tch. Darn. That PS3, so close yet so far eh?

Just FYI, I'm turning my cellphone off for a couple of days.

No, it won't buy me 100% peace, but at least that's one thing out of the way. I am currently feeling like Dorothy must have felt inside that twister-thing. Cows flailing, houses crashing to pieces, tractors speeding towards me, while spinning 300 miles per minute. Or whatever, I'm just making that speed up.

My sisters were telling me to better shape up or ship out. I said, I'm shipping out, aren't I? What's your problem, geez. I told them I knew exactly where I was heading this time around, it's just that I'm in a messy transition. Shifting from 1st gear to 4th gear isn't done in an instant, I tell you.

But turning my cellphone off, it's just brilliant. Why didn't it occur to me sooner?

So I'm still here, taking my sweet time to ease the pain, seriously thinking about how I can get a cup of Bo's coffee right at the next block when I don't have the money. When you don't know the answer, Bo's is the next best thing. (Bo's should pay me for advertising, but I get like probably 2 hits a day, so who cares?)

Speaking of ads, I thought maybe I could just flood my site with ads. And make some money, just so I could live another week trouble-free. Someone told me (no, I won't mention his name because that would be giving him so much credit) that life will never be easy, so why should I think so? Tch. I hate pessimistics. Just to quote from a great mangaka:

"Whatever path you choose, remember that sadness and sorrow don't have to exist".

And she's right. Why do people think bad times is a norm in life? It's not normal, see? If it was normal, why the heck do we feel so bad? It's not normal to encounter trouble and feel bad about it. It's not right, and it's not fair. (I'm turning into a kid super-hero, spouting words of wisdom to grade school kids.) That's why we should fight for our happiness! (Don't say I didn't warn you.)

So I'm fighting for my right, dammit!