This is why I’m not that into the whole household help concept. I’m a Chavacano and I’ve got pride inherited from the Spaniards, my cultural godfathers. This and a bunch of other factors, exaggerates the whole master-servant system to epic, soap opera-ish proportions. Centuries of tradition, acquired beliefs and prejudices are hard to break.
True, it’s nice have a cleaner and tidier home, have your meals cooked for you, have the dishes washed, the dogs fed…but if having a hired help in my house would bring out the worse of my attitudes and biases, then I’d rather live with the mess.
Sunday, November 29, 2009
Sunday, November 22, 2009
When nerds go out (or the I am out of practice post)
If I had a phone that would’ve allowed me to blog on the go, I would have done so. But since all I got is my trusty 1202, my 5th phone after losing my 7610 to thieves and my n70 to hardware complications, I had to make do with making hastily typed messages and saving them in the drafts folder. Needless to say, I’m reconstructing my experience from messages that have little coherence and lots of typos.
During one of our karaoke sessions, me and my friends came to the conclusion that we had absolutely no social lives whatsoever. With the exception of a few, none of my friends are really that into parties or socializing. Personally, I am a nerd, through and through. Parties make me feel weird. People make me insecure. I never learned to drink or to smoke because I never saw the logic behind it.
But thankfully, things and perspectives change, ours included. So, me and my fellow high school nerds decided to eventually become full-fledged party animals, beginning with monthly get together and dinners. This, we concluded, was a highly plausible plan: we were employed, we were bored, we had nothing better to do and we all wanted a social life. Badly.
Last Friday, we went out to eat, only this time, I was a wee bit too early and in the case of my friends, being early is never good. I should have known that something was wrong when my numerous texts of “Asan na kayo?” went unanswered.
I almost ended up proclaiming my pathetic-ness to the whole city of Zamboanga that night when I spent an hour alone at a particularly well-lighted table that only served too well to highlight the fact that I was alone and friendless.
It didn’t help that the restaurant messed up my orders. I got my dessert (a knickerbocker glory), my iced tea and my glass of water before I got my tuna sandwich. Heartless restaurant, making me go on a premature liquid diet. I slurped and slugged through my orders with the enthusiasm of a snail.
Finally, Sherillyn arrived and I did a little jig. She’s always good company. Barely a few minutes in, I have completely forgotten that I was supposed to give her the woe-is-me guilt trip.
Me: We should try our luck in England.
She: I don’t like Inland. We’d be better off in Woodland. (Inland and Woodland are local resorts in Zamboanga City)
DJ came a little later. He claims to have stopped by his house to freshen up a bit, but the overly fresh persona, plus the fact he looked and smelled better than me and She made me think otherwise.
Despite the fact that Sherillyn came only because she’s as desperate as me to get out of the house and DJ was only there because he felt really sorry that I got stood up by the people who said they would come but never came, I had fun. We could have ordered a feast if everyone came, but the Mongolian rice and buttered chicken wasn’t so bad either.
The experience, though, made us re-evaluate our invitation priorities. We would hereby limit our invitations to social gatherings to people who are the most desperate for companionship thus ensuring a decent turn-out rate.
Basically those people would be me, Sherillyn and DJ.
During one of our karaoke sessions, me and my friends came to the conclusion that we had absolutely no social lives whatsoever. With the exception of a few, none of my friends are really that into parties or socializing. Personally, I am a nerd, through and through. Parties make me feel weird. People make me insecure. I never learned to drink or to smoke because I never saw the logic behind it.
But thankfully, things and perspectives change, ours included. So, me and my fellow high school nerds decided to eventually become full-fledged party animals, beginning with monthly get together and dinners. This, we concluded, was a highly plausible plan: we were employed, we were bored, we had nothing better to do and we all wanted a social life. Badly.
Last Friday, we went out to eat, only this time, I was a wee bit too early and in the case of my friends, being early is never good. I should have known that something was wrong when my numerous texts of “Asan na kayo?” went unanswered.
I almost ended up proclaiming my pathetic-ness to the whole city of Zamboanga that night when I spent an hour alone at a particularly well-lighted table that only served too well to highlight the fact that I was alone and friendless.
It didn’t help that the restaurant messed up my orders. I got my dessert (a knickerbocker glory), my iced tea and my glass of water before I got my tuna sandwich. Heartless restaurant, making me go on a premature liquid diet. I slurped and slugged through my orders with the enthusiasm of a snail.
Finally, Sherillyn arrived and I did a little jig. She’s always good company. Barely a few minutes in, I have completely forgotten that I was supposed to give her the woe-is-me guilt trip.
Me: We should try our luck in England.
She: I don’t like Inland. We’d be better off in Woodland. (Inland and Woodland are local resorts in Zamboanga City)
DJ came a little later. He claims to have stopped by his house to freshen up a bit, but the overly fresh persona, plus the fact he looked and smelled better than me and She made me think otherwise.
Despite the fact that Sherillyn came only because she’s as desperate as me to get out of the house and DJ was only there because he felt really sorry that I got stood up by the people who said they would come but never came, I had fun. We could have ordered a feast if everyone came, but the Mongolian rice and buttered chicken wasn’t so bad either.
The experience, though, made us re-evaluate our invitation priorities. We would hereby limit our invitations to social gatherings to people who are the most desperate for companionship thus ensuring a decent turn-out rate.
Basically those people would be me, Sherillyn and DJ.
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
IDK is such an inadequate expression
I just really needed to get this off my chest. I can't think right now. I can't make a decision. Why is making a decision so hard? Or rather, why am I making this so hard for myself.
Dammit, woman. Wake up early, get yer ass to where it has to go, pay the effing fees and just get it over with.
Because deep inside you know, that someday, you'll regret not taking that risk.
So, here I go.
I dunno.
I. REALLY. DON'T. KNOW.
Dammit, woman. Wake up early, get yer ass to where it has to go, pay the effing fees and just get it over with.
Because deep inside you know, that someday, you'll regret not taking that risk.
So, here I go.
I dunno.
I. REALLY. DON'T. KNOW.
Saturday, November 07, 2009
Last stock at size 35
Today, I was supposed to register for an exam, a part of a great plan to give my life a little nudge and direction. For the first time in years, I went back to the Ateneo and still felt like the outsider on campus. I went to the Center for Testing office, pretended to be more confident than I really was and found out that they ran out of registration forms and could I please just come back on Monday when they would probably have another batch of it. And oh, that the Php 500 was just my registration fee and the actual testing fee was actually Php 1,400.
I was pretty depressed when I left campus so I decided to wile my time away in town. I’m a certified couch potato, so I don’t usually roam the city streets. But my spirit was at such a low point that being home and watching the local Saturday noontime shows was not going to do my mood any good.
It didn’t take me long to explore the market goods and to realize what a commercial void Zamboanga City is. One block of stores and you’ve seen them all.
While I love Zamboanga City with all my heart, it depresses me to know that I have to import the stuff I want from other cities. Our one big mall does not have variety; all other department stores look and smell the same. We’ve got tons of small Asian-ish stores that sell second-hand apparel, factory-reject toys and trinkets. And in all those things I see the faces of the Boys over Flowers cast winking/pouting/brooding/making a cutesy peace sign at me. Not that I don’t appreciate the fact Filipinos are embracing our Asian neighbors, and in the process, our Asian heritage, for that matter. It’s just so Meteor Garden all over again.
On top of that, we have no decent bookstore to speak of at all. I deplore the non-existence of an SM in my city, the existence of which will automatically bring the National Bookstore in its wake. That, and a variety of novelty shops that will satisfy my anime and DVD vices.
The thing is, with such limited shopping choices and opportunities, people get boxed in with the conventional and we get boring and rusty and dumb and retarded. There’s nothing in our stores that would wake up a weary 23-year-old mind, like say, a good book, a creative nook to hang out in or a store that encourages expression and artistry with their wares. Stores are not just there to bring merchandise: they’re supposed to bring ideas, create a vibrant environment teeming with movement and chances.
I guess what I want to say is that stores, and for that matter, shopping, be it actual or plain window-shopping, should be fun. Today’s shopping experience was far from fun. It was really kind of dreary.
For some reason, holistically keeps popping in my head. Now that is a word positively drenched in Atenean philosophy. If I shop, I need to shop not just for food and clothes, but for things that will make me holistically whole.
So please, let’s see some progress here. I love this city too much to leave it for the greener pastures of Cebu and Manila. To our local officials, please do your thing and work, like you’re supposed to. We hope to see you working, not hanging around in city events, hoping to get a bit of free airtime on tv. Please, Chinese Chambers of Commerce, stop being such a pushover. Don’t be afraid to go out and tussle in a little healthy competition. Start wrasslin’ your way to profits in this great democratic market that we have. Before I lose my mind window-shopping my weekends away.
I was pretty depressed when I left campus so I decided to wile my time away in town. I’m a certified couch potato, so I don’t usually roam the city streets. But my spirit was at such a low point that being home and watching the local Saturday noontime shows was not going to do my mood any good.
It didn’t take me long to explore the market goods and to realize what a commercial void Zamboanga City is. One block of stores and you’ve seen them all.
While I love Zamboanga City with all my heart, it depresses me to know that I have to import the stuff I want from other cities. Our one big mall does not have variety; all other department stores look and smell the same. We’ve got tons of small Asian-ish stores that sell second-hand apparel, factory-reject toys and trinkets. And in all those things I see the faces of the Boys over Flowers cast winking/pouting/brooding/making a cutesy peace sign at me. Not that I don’t appreciate the fact Filipinos are embracing our Asian neighbors, and in the process, our Asian heritage, for that matter. It’s just so Meteor Garden all over again.
On top of that, we have no decent bookstore to speak of at all. I deplore the non-existence of an SM in my city, the existence of which will automatically bring the National Bookstore in its wake. That, and a variety of novelty shops that will satisfy my anime and DVD vices.
The thing is, with such limited shopping choices and opportunities, people get boxed in with the conventional and we get boring and rusty and dumb and retarded. There’s nothing in our stores that would wake up a weary 23-year-old mind, like say, a good book, a creative nook to hang out in or a store that encourages expression and artistry with their wares. Stores are not just there to bring merchandise: they’re supposed to bring ideas, create a vibrant environment teeming with movement and chances.
I guess what I want to say is that stores, and for that matter, shopping, be it actual or plain window-shopping, should be fun. Today’s shopping experience was far from fun. It was really kind of dreary.
For some reason, holistically keeps popping in my head. Now that is a word positively drenched in Atenean philosophy. If I shop, I need to shop not just for food and clothes, but for things that will make me holistically whole.
So please, let’s see some progress here. I love this city too much to leave it for the greener pastures of Cebu and Manila. To our local officials, please do your thing and work, like you’re supposed to. We hope to see you working, not hanging around in city events, hoping to get a bit of free airtime on tv. Please, Chinese Chambers of Commerce, stop being such a pushover. Don’t be afraid to go out and tussle in a little healthy competition. Start wrasslin’ your way to profits in this great democratic market that we have. Before I lose my mind window-shopping my weekends away.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)