Tattooed On My Mind

My busy life only allows me a glimpse of TV when I get home. Recently, I've been addicted to one show I never thought I'd take time to watch - Miami Ink. It showcases the art of tattooing, where each tattoo is inspired by a story (or not - "I just like it so much so I want it embedded on my body forever.").

When I was younger, I was always reminded by my elders about tattoos - "Wag na wag kang uuwi ditong may hikaw sa ilong, at lalong wag ka nang bumalik kung may tattoo ka." Then there's also the judgment on people wearing tattoos -"Pag nagka-boyfriend ka i-check mo kung may tattoo ha." In short, I grew up thinking tattoos are bad and only bad people would have them. I used to cringe at the thought of needle and ink. But the show changed this. I have come to appreciate the artistic expression behind tattoos. I really admire the artists' creativity and skill in putting images to life on people's skin.

My two favorites are Ami James and Chris Garver. Ami is hot. Period. Haha. But I think it is worthwhile to mention that he is very passionate about the art and is a dedicated businessman (he co-owns the tattoo shop and a bar with another of the show's stars, Chris Nuñez). Ami is also really good at freehand drawing. I had this pseudo-conversation with him in my mind that goes like this: Ami says "Would you mind if I add some freehand details to this?" and I go "Oh grab that pen and scribble away, honey." Not the sexiest thing to say, but in my mind I got a flirty grin, so what-the-heck. ;)

Chris Garver is, by all means, the best artist on the show. He has the most experience in tattooing. Even Ami said that he learned from Chris G. His large tattoos are breathtaking. It's a shame the site flipbook doesn't contain that many large tattoos of his. Chris G has this fascination with Japanese-inspired art - I love his Japanese flowers! (Off-topic: More than these flowers, I am quite interested in the Japanese culture myself. It amazes me how intricate Japanese details are - from sushis to woven silk kimonos to cars. The Japanese definitely pay attention to presentation, and I appreciate the amount of effort and skill they put into achieving perfection.) Anyway, I think I am just trying to connect with Chris G, one of the greatest artists in the world, on a psycho-spiritual way by associating his Japanese flowers to my premature interest in anything-Japanese.

I am pondering on getting a tattoo myself. Maybe I'll have a geisha on my back, or a star on my butt cheek. I wonder what my Mom would think about that. Hahaha.

Au revoir, Onin

I remember a conversation I had with a friend. It was about the difference between "moving on" and "moving forward". I learned how the previous has a notion of hanging on to the past, whilst the latter gives more importance to what lies ahead. I used this in this article I wrote about Onin. Because while the experience of losing a friend has become one of the darkest times in my life (right up there with when my Dad left us when I was 12), it has allowed me to see things with a new set of eyes. As I've said in the article, each moment now is precious. I drew my first resolution for 2008 as early as now: if it's important to me, I have to make time.

A toast to Onin was published on the November 1, 2007 issue of Philippine Daily Inquirer.

A toast to Onin
By Patricia Palea Orjalo
Inquirer
Last updated 06:07pm (Mla time) 11/02/2007

MANILA, Philippines--It has been more than a week since that fateful Friday, and I still hear his voice when I sleep at night. I wake up and stare at the ceiling for 10 minutes -- or is it 20? I think to myself, “I’m going to be late.” But I don’t move for another five minutes.

I stare blankly at my breakfast plate and finish my coffee in hurried gulps. I walk my usual path, listening to the usual morning sounds. I strain to hear his familiar laughter wafting through the air. I work my sadness off. I tire myself trying to drive the negativity away. Oh, and I smoke again; it seems to me that every puff brings me closer to him.

I just cannot believe that he’s gone. After all, he’s Onin. Onin who made each day at work seem like playtime. Onin who brought an extra sandwich each morning, because he knew I rarely ate breakfast before I left the house. Onin who made me laugh at the oddest times: at lunchtime while standing in line at the cafeteria, in the sleepy hours of the afternoon, and in between sobs. Onin -- who bugged us to buy Happy Meals for merienda so that he could have the free toys that he would bring home to his 4-year-old son.

He loved his family so much. His stories were always about his little one, or his Mommy and Daddy, or his brother, or one of his cousins. He always put them first on his list of priorities. His plans were always tailored to what would be best for them.

I was in denial for a long time. From the moment I got the first text message, to the anxious hours of searching for him at the Makati Medical Center and Ospital ng Makati, up until the night I looked at him inside the coffin, I could not accept the painful reality that my good friend had departed. But then again, who would have thought that a person so full of life and who gave so much would go ahead of us?

All of Onin’s friends and loved ones were distraught. A dark cloud hovered over the Vidamo residence on the first night of the wake. Mass was said with everyone present in tears. It started with discreet sniffs and burst out in loud wails of anger, grief and despair. The priest did not bother to stop the ceremony to comfort the family members. He let them be.

“Life is a mystery, and I do not have answers,” he said in his homily. For me, that was the best that anybody could do: to let Onin’s family give free expression to the mixed emotions they were feeling. To let them deal with all of these together is to respect them. It is like saying that you feel for them, but you cannot truly comprehend how difficult this tragedy must be for them.

Unfair. That’s what it is. Not only to Onin’s family, but to all those who lost their loved ones in that explosion in Glorietta 2 last Oct. 19. My heart goes out even to those who have been scarred by the blast, not only in the physical sense, but deep inside where the marks last forever.

Absurd. That’s what the heartless perpetrators did. That is, if the tragedy was another act of terrorism, a bombing plotted to make us all cower.

Polluted by politics. That’s what the whole investigation seems to me. And having Madame President visiting the mall just days after the incident and waving to the press was not cute at all.

I remember the last time Onin and I talked. He had invited me to have a few drinks. I promised we’d go out during my break from my grad school classes. Little did I know that I would not have the chance to fulfill that promise.

Onin’s death made me pause in a way that my busy life would not have allowed. It’s such a cliché, but I realize that life is short, indeed. Each moment, precious. So, I know I have to move forward.

I’m done with crying. Aside from the fact that I’ve cried my eyes out in one weekend, I can hear Onin telling me, “Ayusin mo nga ’yang mukha mo (Why don’t you fix your face?).” That was what he always told me every time I cried.

So, Onin, I am speaking for all the people whose lives you’ve touched: Thank you, ’pare. I raise my glass to you, for the joys you brought to our hearts and the life that you so generously shared. You’ve inspired us all. Cheers.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


Au revoir is goodbye in French. But when we dissect the expression, "voir" being "to see", it actually means "see you again".

What's Wrong With Being Anonymous?

My supposedly-witty response to the recently concluded Be Bench: The Model Search.

Hottie hero

I love love love Milo Ventigmiglia (a.k.a Peter Petrelli of Heroes) in Fergie's Big Girls Don't Cry video. He doesn't have to fly or be invisible. His tattoo-clad sexiness on my bed will do. ;)

More Than Meets The Eye

Kudos to Michael Bay! Never thought I'd enjoy car-transforming robots. But in one statement, I'd say 'I loved it!'

Apart from the cheesy line from Shia LaBeouf, which came from the cartoon's original theme song, the movie was great. Very nice CG. Sounds and effects were fantastic. The overall impact made me think that the vibrating mobile phone inside my bag could be transforming at that very instant (sheepish, i know. haha!). And, could Josh Duhamel be any hotter?

It won its first award as the Best Summer Movie You Haven't Seen Yet at the 2007 MTV Movie Awards. Don't miss it guys! :)

Murphy's Law

In one of my 1st classes this semester, my professor quoted Murphy's Law in her last slide. Her slide said, "If something will go wrong, it will go wrong." A classmate raised his hand and corrected her - "Ma'am, hindi ba dapat 'can' yung una? 'If something can go wrong, it will go wrong'?" The professor frowned at the projected slide and said, "Does it matter?"

And they went on with a short debacle that ended with Ma'am saying "Whatever, I'm not an English major!"

At that time, probably because I couldn't wait to get out of my seat after 85 slides, I couldn't care less what Murphy said. But in my mind I sided with my classmate.

I Googled it (define:Murphy's Law), and voila, here's the top result from www.crfonline.org/orc/glossary/m.html:

"If something can go wrong, it will go wrong."

Does it matter? Well, if you are talking to a roomful of opinionated professionals, it most probably does.

Disillusoned

A couple of nights ago I bumped into an old friend. The moment I saw the look in her eyes when she saw me, I knew - it was going to be a long night. Was I right.

It began with her saying "Tara na, tama na to." She was holding several shopping bags, and was referring to her trying to find a white bag to add to her spree. And then she added, "Magkape na tayo" as if trying to read my mind asking "Where to? "

Catching up began with small talk. Oh this is awkward, I said to myself. I knew I had to ask her the question. Even if I already knew what her answer would be. But what the heck, I wanted to get it over and done with. "So kamusta na kayo?" I went and gulped on whipped cream (I knew I needed sugar high). "Hay nako, wag mo na tanungin. Alam mo namang ayokong kinakamusta diba? Kasi nga nababati," came her response as if on cue. Parang hindi pa nailalagay yung question mark sa dulo ng question ko, may sagot na siya. Na ilang beses na naming narinig. Pero dahil kaibigan ko siya, I had to ask. I had to know if the bastard is still making her life the hell that it is. But what do you know, my friend already has this belief that if anybody asks her about her marriage, it would shake the status quo that is the ok-lang-hindi-kami-masyadong-nagaaway mode of her relationship with her husband.

It is pathetic. Just her coming up with that belief is. Pucha bawal mangamusta? Anona?

I thought that was the end of it. But then she went on and spilled the rest of her miserable life. Of lies, of alcohol and women, of money problems - both in excess and lack thereof, of constant quarreling in front of her innocent child, of her belittling in-laws, of her dysfunctional relationship with her father, of her older brother's selfishness and immature ways eating up on their Mom's savings, of her Mom's recent visit and operation. Of losing self-confidence, of losing herself in it all.

I tried to share my own life dilemmas, just to appease her that she's not carrying all the problems in the world. But I have to admit - my concerns pale in comparison to her emotional and psychological baggage. I feel it until now as I type it away, willing the heaviness to disappear in my writing.

On the way home I realized that what made her story so sad are not the circumstances per se. Rather, it was the resigned way she told them. It was as if she was convincing herself that everything is ok. It seemed that she gave up on her hopes and dreams of a happy life.

As soon as I closed my cab door, I cried. After the first tear fell to my cheek, the rest just can't help but flow. The cab driver must have thought I was crazy. I was tempted to tell him my infamous line to "Just drive" when I saw him peeking at me through the rear view mirror. But I got scared that he might leave me to walk SLEX all the way home.

I only stopped when it was time to pay the toll. I continued the drama in my bedroom. I felt like I was crying for her. For all the pains she experienced and continues to endure. I cried until my eyelids hurt so bad.

You say I'm emotional. You're damned right.

Shrek the Third

Surprise of all surprises - the latest sequel of Shrek bored me. My friend and I tried to count the number of times we yawned inside the cold, dark theater. Guess what, we actually lost count! But we did remember the few times we laughed out loud.

Mine are as follows (in increasing laughter intensity):

1. Prince Charming and Pinocchio exchange [as seen in the trailer]

Prince Charming: You! You can't lie! Where is Shrek?

Pinocchio: Well, uh, I don't know where he's not.

Prince Charming: You don't know where Shrek is?

Pinocchio: On the contrary,

Prince Charming: So you do know where he is!

Pinocchio: I'm possibly more or less not definitely rejecting the idea that I undeniably

Prince Charming: Stop It!

Pinocchio: Do or do not know where he shouldn't probably be. If that indeed wasn't where he isn't!

2. When Snow White suddenly turned into an angry warrior princess towards the end (with matching sounds and running animals-gone-wild).

3. When "That's What Friends Are For" was played during Shrek and Artie's conversation.

Shrek the Third lacked the freshness of its first two movies. It offered the same old style, where yucky is supposed to be funny and Donkey is a witty overconfident talking animal. Oh, and let's not forget Puss in Boots' begging eyes - made me go 'Aww..' in Shrek 2, but failed to deliver this time. And don't get me started on Justin Timberlake's voice for his character Artie. I mean, if you didn't know it was him, you'd wonder who the high-pitched teenager was. You could argue that Artie is a teenager in the movie, but come on...none of my guy friends sounded like that in high school (except maybe for the, uh, not-so-straight ones). A line or two of Sexy Back (to any of the princesses) would've made me forgive JT, but well, maybe that's veering away from the plot. I guess we're not seeing a Fourth on the horizon.

Long Walk

A month ago, Kurt Vonnegut, author of classic novels such as Slaughterhouse-Five and Cat’s Cradle, died at 84. It's such a shame that I only know of him by one of his short stories. One, which does not even fall under his popular genres of science fiction and philosophy. It's a love story. I am posting it here, as a tribute to him.

Long Walk to Forever
by Kurt Vonnegut

They had grown up next door to each other, on the fringe of acity, near fields and woods and orchards, within sight of alovely bell tower that belonged to a school for the blind.
Now they were twenty, had not seen each other for nearly a year. There had always been playful, comfortable warmth between them, but never any talk of love.
His name was Newt. Her name was Catharine. In the early afternoon, Newt knocked on Catharine's front door. Catharine came to the door. She was carrying a fat, glossy magazine she had been reading.The magazine was devoted entirely to brides. "Newt!" she said. She was surprised to see him.
"Could you come for a walk?" he said. He was a shy person, even with Catharine. He covered his shyness by speaking absently as though what really concerned him were faraway--as though he were a secret agent pausing briefly on a mission between beautiful, distant,and sinister points. This manner of speaking had always been Newt's style, even in matters thatconcerned him desperately.
"A walk?" said Catharine.
"One foot in front of the other," said Newt, "through leaves, over bridges---"
"I had no idea you were in town," she said.
"Just this minute got in," he said.
"Still in the Army, I see," she said.
"Seven months more to go," he said. He was a private first class in the Artillery. His uniformwas rumpled. His shoes were dusty. He needed a shave. He held out his hand for the magazine."Let's see the pretty book," he said.
She gave it to him. "I'm getting married, Newt," she said.
"I know," he said. "Let's go for a walk."
"I'm awfully busy, Newt," she said. "The wedding is only a week away."
"If we go for a walk," he said, "it will make you rosy. It will make you a rosy bride." He turned the pages of the magazine. "A rosy bride like her--like her--like her," he said, showingher rosy brides.
Catharine turned rosy, thinking about rosy brides.
"That will be my present to Henry Stewart Chasens," said Newt. "By taking you for a walk,I'll be giving him a rosy bride."
"You know his name?" she said.
"Mother wrote," he said. "From Pittsburgh?"
"Yes," she said. "You'd like him."
"Maybe," he said.
"Can--can you come to the wedding, Newt?" she said.
"That I doubt," he said.
"Your furlough isn't for long enough?" she said.
"Furlough?" said Newt. He was studying a two page ad for flat silver. "I'm not on furlough,"he said.
"Oh?" she said.
"I'm what they call A.W.O.L.," said Newt.
"Oh, Newt! You're not!" she said.
"Sure I am," he said, still looking at the magazine.
"Why, Newt?" she said.
"I had to find out what your silver pattern is," he said. He read names of silver patterns from the magazine. Albemarle? Heather?" he said. "Legend? Rambler Rose?" He looked up, smiled. "I plan to give you and your husband a spoon," he said.
"Newt, Newt--tell me really," she said.
"I want to go for a walk," he said.
She wrung her hands in sisterly anguish. "Oh, Newt--you're fooling me about being A.W.O.L.," she said.
Newt imitated a police siren softly, and raised his eyebrows.
"Where--where from?"
"Fort Bragg," he said.
"North Carolina?" she said.
"That's right," he said. "Near Fayetteville--where Scarlet O'Hara went to school."
"How did you get here, Newt?" she said.
He raised his thumb, jerked it in a hitchhike gesture. "Two days," he said.
"Does your mother know?" she said.
"I didn't come to see my mother," he told her.
"Who did you come to see?" she said.
"You," he said.
"Why me?" she said.
"Because I love you," he said. "Now can we take a walk?" he said. "One foot in front of the other--through leaves, over bridges--"
They were taking the walk now, were in a woods with a brown-leaf floor.
Catharine was angry and rattled, close to tears. "Newt," she said, "this is absolutely crazy."
"How so?" said Newt.
"What a crazy time to tell me you love me," she said. "You never talked that way before."She stopped walking. "Let's keep walking," he said.
"No," she said. "So far, no farther. I shouldn't have come out with you at all," she said.
"You did," he said.
"To get you out of the house," she said. "If somebody walked in and heard you talking to me that way, a week before the wedding--"
"What would they think?" he said.
"They'd think you were crazy," she said.
"Why?" he said
Catharine took a deep breath, made a speech. "Let me say that I'm deeply honored by this crazy thing you've done," she said. "I can't believe you're really A.W.O.L., but maybe you are. Ican't believe you really love me, but maybe you do. But--"
"I do," said Newt.
"Well, I'm deeply honored," said Catharine, "and I'm very fond of you as a friend, Newt,extremely fond--but it's just too late." She took a step away from him. "You've never even kissed me," she said, and she protected herself with her hands. "I don't mean you should do it now. I justmean that this is all so unexpected. I haven't got the remotest idea of how to respond."
"Just walk some more," he said. "Have a nice time."
They started walking again.
"How did you expect me to react?" she said.
"How would I know what to expect?" he said. "I've never done anything like this before."
Did you think I would throw myself into your arms?" she said.
"Maybe," he said.
"I'm sorry to disappoint you," she said.
"I'm not disappointed," he said. "I wasn't counting on it. This is very nice, just walking."
Catharine stopped again. "You know what happens next?" she said.
"Nope," he said.
"We shake hands," she said. "We shake hands and part friends," she said. "That's what happens next."
Newt nodded. "All right," he said. "Remember me from time to time. Remember how muchI loved you." Involuntarily, Catharine burst into tears. She turned her back to Newt, looked into the infinate colonnade of the woods.
"What does that mean?" said Newt.
"Rage!" said Catharine. She clenched her hands. "You have no right--"
"I had to find out," he said.
"If I'd loved you," she said, "I would have let you know before now."
"You would?" he said.
"Yes," she said. She faced him, looked up at him, her face quite red. "You would have known," she said.
"How?" he said.
"You would have seen it," she said. "Women aren't very clever at hiding it."
Newt looked closely at Catharine's face now. To her consternation, she realized that what she had said was true, that a woman couldn't hide love. Newt was seeing love now. And he did what he had to do. He kissed her. "You're hell to get along with!" she said when Newt let her go.
"I am?" said Newt.
"You shouldn't have done that," she said.
"You didn't like it?" he said.
"What did you expect," she said--"wild, adandoned passion?"
"I keep telling you," he said," I never know what's going to happen next."
"We say good-by," she said. He frowned slightly. "All right," he said.
She made another speech. "I'm not sorry we kissed," she said. "That was sweet. We should have kissed, we've been so close. I'll always remember you , Newt, and good luck."
"You too," he said.
"Thirty days," he said.
"What?" she said.
"Thirty days in the stockade," he said--"that's what one kiss will cost me."
"I--I'm sorry," she said, "but I didn't ask you to go A.W.O.L."
"I know," he said.
"You certainly don't deserve any hero's reward for doing something as foolish as that," she said.
"Must be nice to be a hero," said Newt. "Is Henry Stewart Chasens a hero?"
"He might be, if he got the chance," said Catharine. She noted uneasily that they had begun to walk again. The farewell had been forgotten.
"You really love him?" he said.
"Certainly I love him!" she said hotly. "I wouldn't marry him if I didn't love him!"
"What's good about him?" said Newt.
"Honestly!" she cried, stopping again. "Do you have any idea how offensive you're being? Many, many, many things are good about Henry! Yes," she said, "and many, many, many things are probably bad, too. But that isn't any of your business. I love Henry, and I don't have to arguehis merits with you!"
"Sorry," said Newt.
"Honestly!" said Catharine.
Newt kissed her again. He kissed her again because she wanted him to.
They were now in a large orchard.
"How did we get so far from home, Newt?" said Catharine.
"One foot in front of the other--through leaves, over bridges," said Newt.
"They add up--the steps," she said.
Bells rang in the tower of the school for the blind nearby.
"School for the blind," said Newt.
"School for the blind," said Catharine. She shook her head in drowsy wonder. "I've got to go back now," she said.
"Say good-by," said Newt.
"Every time I do," said Catharine, "I seem to get kissed."
Newt sat down on the close-cropped grass under an apple tree. "Sit down," he said.
"No," she said.
"I won't touch you," he said.
"I don't believe you," she said.
She sat down under another tree, twenty feet away from him. She closed her eyes.
"Dream of Henry Stewart Chasens," he said.
"What?" she said.
"Dream of your wonderful husband-to-be," he said.
"All right, I will," she said. She closed her eyes tighter, caught glimpses of her husband-to-be.
Newt yawned. The bees were humming in the trees, and Catharine almost fell asleep. When she opened her eyes she saw that Newt really was asleep. He began to snore softly. Catharine let him sleep for an hour, and while he slept she adored him with all her heart. The shadows of the apple trees grew to the east. The bells in the tower of the school for the blind rang again.
"*chick-a-dee-dee-dee*," went a chickadee.
Somewhere far away an automobile started nagged and failed, nagged and failed, fell still.
Catharine came out from under her tree, knelt by Newt.
"Newt?" she said.
"H'm?" he said. He opened his eyes.
"Late," she said.
"Hello, Catharine," he said.
"Hello, Newt," she said.
"I love you," he said.
"I know," she said.
"Too late," he said.
"Too late," she said.
He stood, stretched groaningly. "A very nice walk," he said.
"I thought so," she said.
"Part company here?" he said.
"Where will you go?" she said.
"Hitch into town, turn myself in," he said.
"Good luck," she said.
"You too," he said. "Marry me, Catharine?"
"No," she said.
He smiled, stared at her hard for a moment, then walked away quickly.
Catharine watched him grow smaller in the long perspective of shadows and trees, knew that if he stopped and turned now, if he called to her, she would run to him. She would have no choice.
Newt did stop. He did turn. He did call. "Catharine," he called.
She ran to him, put her arms aroud him, could not speak.

hilariously blunt

I saw this on Tinnerts' blog. I found it really funny, so I'm reposting it here.

(Tin is, of course, from Accenture.)

Halalan 2007

It is twelve days to Election Day, and yet I haven't done my shortlist of candidates (the one I promsied to write a month ago). I have picked senatorial candidates in my mind, and I am convincing myself that - yes, these are the people I trust to make laws for my beloved country.

A year in graduate school has taught me to think within a context and to evaluate using a framework. Doing otherwise results in shitty papers, believe me. Anyway, I thought of applying the same in choosing my candidates, and hence, this set of criteria:

Track record
A person, to be credible and trustworthy - of a community, a city, or a country, must have a consistent track record. I refuse to use the term clean to describe a politician's track record, because in this country, I am quite convinced that nobody has one.

Consistency is somewhat equivalent to integrity. To be able to hold on to and to stand up for one's ideals and principles in the face of criticisms is a mark of a respectable man. It could be as simple as giving free textbooks to high school students when he/she said in his/her campaign that he/she "will give textbooks to high school students." Or it could be something as debatable as sticking to his/her opinion of the fall of the Estrada administration in 2001. We have to able to hold someone responsible and accountable for his/her word.

The morality of one's track record is subject to one's own set of beliefs, and thus is considered to be out of context in this entry. And hey, the objective here is to make a list, not to cross out names in 10's.

Competence
Someone running for public office ought to have a good CV, as he/she can be considered to be applying for a job: a job that puts him/her in power at that. Thus, he/she is expected to have a good educational background and a relevant working experience. A person running for senate must have an adequate understanding of the law and must be an advocate of what is right and just (now if that doesn't make you cross out Chavit's name - lintek wala akong kamag-anak o kaibigan na iniisip siyang iboto! WALA! - then you're probably out of your mind or just really really stupid). A person running for a local government position must know his/her area of responsibilty - the Strengths, Weaknesses, Opportunities and Threats of the place, its primary needs, and its people - to be able to serve the community more effeciently.

Advocacy
A candidate must have his/her platform organized and prioritized according to his/her advocacy. This is where a political party could be of help to voters. Members of a political party must agree on important issues and must think and act according to their set of principles. But in this country, where a political party is simply a collection of individuals who stay together (as much as possible) during the campaign period for logistics and financial support, voters ought to be more critical of each candidate's cause. This goes back to competence, as a candidate must have the capability to carry out his/her advocacies.

Approach
This simply refers to a candidate's strategy and paradigm (i.e.,way of thinking). I am looking for people with a fresh approach. They don't necessarily have to offer something new, but they ought to have the audacity to break free from the usual hulabaloo of Philippine politics. It is about time for us to demand our leaders to be direct, to deliver and to be proactive.

I usually say to my friends "wag kang magrereklamo kung hindi ka naman bumoto." To vote is both a right and a responsibilty. So I appeal: Vote on May 14. You owe it to your country. You owe it to yourself. You owe it to your future.

Know more about your candidates through their podcast interviews: http://newsinfo.inquirer.net/podcasts/

What part of NO didn't you understand?

I have this theory that (some) men (and women) are born with the difficulty of understanding what "No" means. That, or they are just very persistent. It could also be that they are not really listening, and simply want to have things their way.

Well, if you're in for some harsh truth, welcome to Rejection 101.

1. What does "No" mean?
According to Merriam-Webster, "No" can be defined as a noun - "a negative vote or decision" or for the purposes of this entry, it could also be an adverb - "not so -- used to express negation, dissent, denial, or refusal".

2. Could it mean something else?
This is a trick question. As I cannot speak for everybody, I shall answer this in the simplest and most honest way that I know: Yes, but not all the time. You see, the key is having what we refer to as "a little sensitivity".
If you know the person you're dealing with, or at least have established the basics of getting-to-know (a friend, a teamate at work, a neighbor), then you ought to know when the person might mean something else when he/she says "No." Otherwise, take enough time to know and just rely on what is given to you. If the answer is No, then it most probably means No (please refer to no.1).

3. Say what you mean, and mean what you say.
Now, this is not as easy as it may seem. What we could do is to make sure that we're in the same context as the person we're talking to. Again, that's not a piece of cake (especially when you're dealing with people who don't have a clue themselves). But whoever said this was easy, right?

4. Take things as they are.
If No.3 is about giving, this is more for the receiving end. Simplify your life. Don't read too much into things. (And now,I wonder: pano na yung mga "what if" sessions natin? Hahaha.)

5. Clarify, if you wish.
It is okay to ask when things are unclear to you. But remember: once is enough, twice is a shame, thrice is a crime.

6. Know when to stop.
Like in any goal-oriented activity, you should set a sort of deadline for yourself. Time is gold, as they say, and it is upto you to use/waste on waiting, moping, or fooling around.

7. Everything's in black-and-white (You wish).
There will always be gray areas in life. Some say that these are where the excitement comes from - the idea of not knowing. But I believe that discovering is much more fun than guessing. Choose your adventure wisely.

8. Learn to accept.
Acceptance, for me, is the enactment of humility. As only those who are humble enough are able to accept, without questions if (humanly) possible.

9. Grow up.
This could be the summary of this whole entry. People who are "mature enough" would know better than to blame everybody except themselves when they are rejected. Something painful or difficult as rejection could serve as a lesson. Maybe something better will come for you. Prepare for it. Do better next time.

10. Move on.
As cliche as it may seem: Rejection is not the end of the world. Don't dwell on negative things too much. They will only drive you crazy. I reiterate the last part of No.9: Maybe something better will come for you. Prepare for it. Do better next time.

SYJHTSU (Sometimes You Just Have To Shut Up)

I left with an ugly-looking rash on the right-side of my mouth. I haven't had enough sleep for days. I crammed for our last paper and for the finals the day before. The 3 hours of brisk hand-writing (Professor's instruction: Write legibly. I give very low points for answers I can't read.) for the final exam didn't help. I was in no mood at all, especially for the stares at the airport. I screamed in my head: Screw you people! My cousins said I looked like a terrorist with the face mask and the dark eyeglasses (that comes with pointing while laughing their heads off at me). Haha. Funny.

My mood relaxed a bit upon landing on the Busuanga airport. I say 'a bit' coz the 2-hour dusty rough road to Salvacion triggered the not-so-happy me again. I was at my breaking point. I got bitchier by the micro-second. Oh, and did I mention that the doctor said I had to refrain from eating seafood for a while because of my infection? Great. Palawan without seafood. Just great.

I was surprised to find the world painted in a different shade the next day. And I mean literally. The sky was bluish gray at 5:00AM (Yes, I woke up around this time for the rest of my vacation), and it slowly changed to a mixture of red, orange, pink and yellow. The moonset was beautiful. Its parallelism with the sunrise on the other side of the island was breathtaking. I found myself ranting less as the days went by. I slept better (and earlier! weeeeeeeeeee!). I ate slower. I smiled more.

Everything was timely, as it was holy week. Time for reflection, as the elders say. I reflected in my own way - a little different from the usual prayerful means that my Mom expects us to be in. We went to a lot of beaches - one island per day. My cousins and I were in our "skimpy bikinis". How in the world are we going to be prayerful in those outfits? Huh. You tell me. But you see, amidst all the antics, the crazy fun while swimming, snorkeling and picture-taking, all of us will fall quiet. For a long time. In our own time. It's as if we knew when to keep quiet, and not to bother each other. We just sat on the powdery white sand, and stared at the wonderfulness that surrounded us. We took in all the beauty that we can - from the countless white-sand beaches in the islands nearby, to the vast blue waters, to the bright sky, to the yellow and black cardinals. We did that, even by the pool at the resthouse. Stared at a distance. Sighed in awe. Thanked the Lord for the blessings of family, beauty and relaxation time on top of peace and quiet.

The 6 days in Palawan was more than a vacation to me. It was a renewing experience. It reminded me that sometimes, you just have to shut up. I hope the Lord understands that we simply had to do it in our bikinis.

Critical Uncertainties

I am quite caught in the foresighting exercise that we're doing (cramming actually) for our Strategic Technology Planning class. Here, we are tasked to discuss the plausible scenarios for our assigned industry - Amusement Parks (Weeeeeeeeee!). We're through identifying predictable variables and critical uncertainties that will affect/influence the development of amusement parks. Sa wakas, natapos din ang pagaagam-agam tungkol sa lintik na Impact vs. Uncertainty matrix. Darn, that was a loooooooooooong discussion.

(Note: The ff. conversation is not a verbatim transcription.)
Kuya edmund: Mali ito e..mali itong graph. Dapat i-multiply natin yung impact at uncertainty para makuha natin yung value.

Vaj: Oo nga, mali yung graph. Kasi if you'll look at this variable....(malditang chinita tries to follow, looks at the graph and searches the text for description of variables)

Chickboy rogel: Nalilito nga rin ako e. Dapat ba unahin yan o yung pag-eliminate?

Ayie: Oo nga noh, kung mag-eliminate na lang muna para konti na lang yung lalagyan ng impact and uncertainty. Pero wait, anong basis ng elimination? Dapat yung impact and uncertainty.

malditang chinita: E kung baliktarin na lang kaya natin? (All looked at me as if I were some idiot.)

I was referring to the matrix, by the way - to measure certainty instead of uncertainty. Whatever. Blah, blah, blah.

This happened after a 5-hour meeting for another group's project (Marketing Plan), 2 hours of isaw+fishballs+tambay, and 3 hours of foresight discussion over latte. So I am entitled to a weird remark or two. Or maybe, as Vaj has said "It could be the coffee talking."

Now I am inclined to identify my own critical uncertainties:
- Will we finish our projects on time?
- Will we get our well-deserved 1.0?
- Will I survive the next 2 weeks of sleepless nights reading, cramming, and writing?
- Will I finish TM in "flying colors" as I have declared over lunch yesterday?
- Will the Boracay trip with the girls push through? (Sana, sana, sana. Kahit December. Haha.)
- Will Richard Gomez win the senatorial elections? (God forbid.)
- Will Melinda Doolittle win American Idol? (Yes, please.)
- Will I fall in love again? (Ah..eh..busy ako eh. :-P)
- Magkakatuluyan ba sina Jackie at Ely/ Celine at JB sa Maging Sino Ka Man? (Shucks di na ko nakakanood. Yuck, baduyness.)

Mga tanong na walang sagot. Or, as I have learned, wala pang sagot pero pwedeng meron. Basta ganun. Hay...patience is a virtue.

cheers

If sadness were taken in shots
and not in one big gulp,
then I must be an alcoholic.

I love Anne Curtis

I've been trying to catch Maging Sino Ka Man since it started. At first, I was just interested in what the 'new' soap has to offer besides the pretty faces in the promotional ad (with the dramatic shots of the stars' eyes and all).

But Anne Curtis surprised me. I like her character, Celine, best. She has improved her craft alot since her childhood-teenybopper-bulol days. And what can I say, I am now a fan. Call me baduy, or jologs, I don't care. I mean, how can I not love her with these lines:

Yes, I am a slut. But I am the best slut in town!

I am definitely asking for that autograph when I see her. And I want a kiss. Oh what the hell, "Anne, let's just make out."

Breathe me

I like the holidays. As a child, I always looked forward to Christmas and all the gifts that could fit under our Christmas tree. I recently realized, though, that the cold air and the 'idle time' during my vacation leave depressed me. It's like I finally had the time to relax, breathe, and feel what I had been denying for some time now - I am sad.

My sister found a song for me..or rather, she thought of me when she read the lyrics. So I'm sharing it here. My (current) song...

Breathe me by Sia

Help, I have done it again
I have been here many times
before
I Hurt myself again today
And, the worst part is there's no-one else
to blame

Be my friend
Hold me, wrap me up
Unfold me
I am small
I'm needy
Warm me up
And breathe me

Ouch I have lost myself again
Lost myself and I am nowhere to be
found,
Yeah I think that I might
break
Lost myself again and I feel
unsafe

Be my friend
Hold me,
wrap me up
Unfold me
I am small
I'm needy
Warm me up
And breathe me
Be my friend

Hold me,
wrap me up
Unfold me
I am small
I'm needy
Warm me up
And breathe me