A few worthwhile airtime

After enduring last night’s Kalye, I was relieved to know that right after the show GMA’s I-witness was on. It was Howie Severino’s timely take on the upcoming Reproductive Health Bill.

The topic, sex and sexuality education, was awkward, but it was wisely plotted; it appeared carnally disinterested.

Sunday night’s special was also intelligent; a documentary on the last five presidents of the Philippines. It was so good that my biases on these presidents were a little bit disturbed. If this special aimed at presenting an unpublic facet of our ex-presidents to know them better, they hit it big time.

Our lack of TV for two years made me miss intelligent documentaries, for which I am now catching up for to enrich my social awareness. But GMA’s shows start really late, it’s because they know, we will stay up late just the same.

There is one thing I hope; I hope GMA’s journalists NEVER run for public office.

Sad documentary by ABS-CBN

Joanna’s egregious reaction to ABS-CBN’s Kalye’s pilot episode caused me to watch it’s second airing last night. It was to judge if Joanna’s comments were merely prejudiced in favor of GMA’s journalists.

She also remarked on Anthony Taberna’s being the only sensible among the three documentaries presented on the show. I have to agree with her because Taberna’s journalistic reputation has been cemented with his AM commentary on DZMM. Being that, he is safe.

Sol Aragones’s segment was a laugh trip. It was a distorted, undecided mush of a documentary. An overview of her documentary promised to give light as to why is pornography rampant on dvd stalls.

But then it becomes a by-bust operations step-by-step documentary with Aragones running around with the police and herself interrogating the arrested persons. I really had to laugh.

Though I haven’t made my own documentary, it would have been good if she took the neutral ground and went undercover to know the nitty-gritty. If you can find in youtube a video of this documentary, you may want to see it just for kicks, and some cycnical chuckling.

And there was Atom Araullo’s out-of-place documentary about Freerunners. It is an extreme sport also known as Parkour. That was all I got from his segment, in addition to the freerunners in the Philippines and the impending danger of it.

It was all clips of freerunners and nothing was asked about how it was done and where it started. It was not even parallel to the two other segments.

This is a sad documentary.

I was on national TV!

Well, it was actually my hind that appeared on TV. It was on the early evening newscast TV Patrol World. I would’ve preferred myself to be seen on GMA’s newscast because I am more partial to them. But GMA’s cameraman appears to be all business because he doesn’t rove his camera all over; whereas ABS-CBN’s took footage of anything and I surmise to further sensationalize their shoots.

It was a fire that broke on the 8th floor of our residential condominium which brought the media to our place. I was anxious to see the news the following day. Just like everybody else, I’d like to be seen on TV, however cynical I am about fame.

‘boredom opens channels for creativity’

They say, ‘necessity is the mother of invention’, I dare say, ‘boredom opens channels for creativity’.

If I weren’t so unhappy and discontent with my present occupation, especially three months ago, I wouldn’t have started blogging. This activity exercised my brain muscles to such extent that I feel reconnected to my circle of writer friends.

When I was in CBTL, I was not exactly linguistically creative, and I did not feel the need to amuse myself. My barista stint provided me with enough entertainment and thrill.

But I wasn’t altogether brainless; I was even results-oriented, organized, headstrong and precise.

I get a lot of positive comments about my writing. Of all the positive comments I get these days, those about my blogging and writing do not embarrass me. Everything else, especially about my weight, make me twitch.

friendship and expensive nicotine

Len is on vacation from China, she’s freaking jetsetting, this year she visited three times in 5 months and plans to return again in December.

Everytime she comes over we get together over food, caffeine, alcohol and expensive nicotine. It is wonderful how we still manage to remain as tight as we are, even tighter than our barista days. Most of us try to show up because it is the only time we catch up with each other’s lives in different industries.

Hazel is back in nursing school, Cy is in red ribbon, Ichael is in Intercon, Nix and Allie is in the call center, Audrey is no longer moonlighting, Kev is in Sun, Marie is in Canada, Carlo is still in the bean, Monmon is in T-boy, and list never ends.

It’s the mushy good old days adage, we talk about the past and still laugh about it, even after recollecting it hundreds of times.

I severely miss my coffeebean friends. In my resignation letter, I mentioned that the friendship I forged with my colleagues are lifelong and forever cherished.

Like my advocate and college friends, they occupy a huge chunk in my heart.

Warming up

In the midst of my loneliness over the lack of communication with 90% of my friends, Joanna and I met to play badminton. I brought Ronald along because I know he and Joanna miss each other, despite their occasional banters. My badminton set has been hanging on it’s nail for 5 years, and have been used only 7 times, and this is the second time I’m using it in an official badminton court.

Joanna’s unemployment has given us ample time to get together before she weds her unfriendly fiance’ Jojo in November and relocate to Lebanon; we plan to play badminton every Tuesday morning.

I am a lame badminton companion, an hour into the game my stamina was low and I was complaining about my dysfunctional sweat glands which don’t do their job. Joanna and Ronald’s game was better, but Ronald is easy to beat because he’s not so into athletics.

For next week’s game, I have to start building up my energy. Geez, I sound like a Milo commercial.

Bank love

By the end of the year I hope to pay-off 75% of my credit card debts. Banks love me, they send me credit cards without application and they call to tell me it’s been sent. For a long time, my affair with credit cards grew from love-love to love-hate to indifference.

I stashed them away, and I don’t remember where they are now, but that shouldn’t matter because I intend to live on and pay in cash.

It started with Mommy giving me full credit extension on three of her cards so I can buy groceries for her. The groceries turned into personal shopping needs, and then my employment status gave me liberty to own my personal credit account.

From there, everything was a blurry turn of events which now led to this.

My extensive knowledge of banking and finance backed my confidence to splurge. It was, in essence, only banking and finance, not the economics of credit. Despite my mismanagement, banks continue to love me, after all, my payments are always updated.

But when I write down my statement of assets and liabilities, I want to cry and plea for insolvency. However, I can not do that because I am gainfully employed; my finances are simply haywire.

Honestly, I don’t know how many cards I own and how much credit limit I have for each and the expiration dates and billing cycles. They are so many and I have been so mindless that I failed to keep these information. I don’t even look at the bills anymore, I stash them away with everything else I don’t want to see.

I don’t remember the things I bought on credit, and I don’t want to look back. This is some nightmare I don’t want to prolong, that is why I put all my cards away even the new ones they send me.

I enjoyed reading about this in the Shopaholic Series, I didn’t realize I enjoyed it because I am Becky Bloomwood in real life, unfortunately, I’m not engaged to a filthy rich advertising magnate.

“fulfillment comes when one takes up space and makes the occupation worthwhile”

For a little while, I ceased listing hip and reputable food and beverage establishments to apply to. But today, as I mulled over my inconvenient schedule which has put me in the most oppressed state, I can not help but feel powerless.

My job makes me feel like I am being paid to do nothing. For some people, money is everything. OKay, why did I say that? Of course, money is everything!

However cheesy it is, fulfillment comes when one takes up space and makes the occupation worthwhile. Brilliant! That phrase was not copied from anyone so I am making this quote copyrighted.

Given my self coined adage, I don’t feel like I am taking up space. Just a space on the payroll system or store plantilla. But I don’t feel important, I feel dispensable, that operations can run smoothly without me. And no one likes to feel unimportant, no matter how we cram over duties that seem to spill over our little hands.

I need a new job that will keep my hands full. I am not fulfilled, I may be earning more but I am not growing. The space I’ve taken up is like a huge drum and I am tiny object inside it. I don’t have pride in what I do because none of it is cerebral. None of it has made a mark of me or will ever leave a legacy.

Skanky swollen

In my very skanky uniform

My recent pair of VNC shoes disproves my claim that all my VNC shoes are comfortable. These sexy black peep-toes cause me so much pain everytime I wear them. And I had to wear them with my betty boop dress which is unfortunately my uniform.

I absolutely despise my betty boop tulip uniform because it enhances my posterior to greatest proportions. It embarrasses me everytime I wear it to work and had to visit the ladies room. People follow me with their eyes, and a few have literally followed me. It’s very skanky with its deep neckline and clingy material, I could be ravished anytime.

Given that this dress has caused me so much misery, I resolved to wear a jacket everytime I step out of the store. And my peep-toes don’t help at all. My feet keep slipping down and scrunching my mini-toes. Callouses have developed on six of my 10 toes.

It’s sad really, because I chose VNC for my work shoes for its comfort. I hope it becomes better after my 10th use.

Mr and Mrs

My parents are here for 15 days; and since they arrived our house has been in total chaos. Daddy is fond doing things his way and his latest project is carpentry. I don’t know where he gets the energy to transform our little all non-sense pad into a little improvised house.

Since there have been plenty of sawing and woodwork, there has also been plenty of sneezing. Everyone in the family has caught the saw dust fever.

Mommy and I try to avoid inhaling so much saw dust by taking regular trips to the mall. She is taking her trips seriously that she wakes me up before 9am and prods me to ready myself because she wants to catch the mall open.

I was never so up that early to spend the day at the mall, not even during my shopaholic days.

Today, Mommy and I bought an animal print scarf, leather cuff, hair clip, valda pastilles, jamaican patties, eyebrow pencil, palabok, groceries and reserved a pair of shoes in VNC which I bought later this afternoon. These purchases have been given a 30second thought.

Tomorrow, until maybe on their 15th day here, there will be a lot more sneezing because Daddy shows no signs of slowing down. He begins and ends the day with sermons on tidiness, domestic industry, cleanliness and proper sleeping habits. Oddly, that seems to be his way of expressing his longing for us, because in Cebu no one listens to his litany, except maybe our dogs.