rain musings

Im ever so in love with the rain that i can't help writing about it in all my blogsites.if rain is a man i'v long been pregnant and if it's a woman,i probably won't be going out of our room for a long time.as besotted as i am to the rain,i don't undestand why people aren't as giddy as i am when it rains,or when its such a burden for them to walk with an umbrella,to get out and get wet...

Procastinate...

I’d like to make a phone call. But I won’t. I am afraid of what may be said after the “hello”. I am afraid of hearing the other end of the line “I’m sorry, you didn’t make it” I am afraid of making it final. That no….i wasn’t accepted as a staff lawyer for the Commission on Human Rights.

How does one deal with disappointment? How does one go through that one phone call and get to the end of the line?

I am supposed to make the call but I procrastinate. Fearing the finality of what I may be hearing on the other end. It sounds pathetic but that’s what I am feeling.
Of course, I know how to comfort my self.

After having survived so many things in this lifetime. I’ve known how to pick myself up after each failure, after each disappointment, after each missed opportunity, each unfulfilled dream, each heartbreak. I usually get around to just laughing and drinking it off. Comforting myself with lines like “For every door that closes, a window opens” or my ever favorite “ There is a season and a reason for every purpose under the sun” . Then I count my blessings.


The climbs, the money, the artwork, the music, the drinks, the places I get to see, the books I get to read….the list could go on and on…my crayons and my oil pastels, Kahlil’s smile, Sarah’s and red horse, UP mountaineers, Bomika, Chang and movies, Tati and food, Andot and the law…so many reviewing and praying for the for the bar…


But there are times. Times like this that I want to hope and want to have faith that I can get more. Human nature. After another dream. We chase another. And another. Endless chasing of one goal after another. One dream after another. For what are we without dreams?

And so I cannot as yet make that phone call. I cannot give up on that dream and that hope as yet. I can comfort myself or I could count my blessings, but for now, I want to wallow and procrastinate.

I’ll wait til tomorrow to make that phone call. I’ll wait for tomorrow to make the disappointment final.

Rand0m m0bile bl0gging

I'm trying m0bile bl0gging.just as chang suggested.it's a bit disturbing-c0nsidering that i'm using my ph0ne and yet i'm spelling each w0rd 0ut.but then,i just might get the hang 0f it.but h0w d0es 0ne justify paragraphs in a m0bile ph0ne.i d0n't kn0w.i w0nt b0ther.rand0m th0ughts during an mrt ride:a)m0ndays and hang0vers d0n't g0 well,b)i l0ve the up m0untaineers that j0ining the 0rg was pr0bably 0ne 0f my wisest decisi0ns,c)manila skyline l00ks dramatic,d)this really feels weird,e)i want t0 write a p0em,its been s0 l0ng since i wr0te 0ne,f)c0me t0 think 0f it,its been a very l0ng time since i last fell in l0ve,g)perhaps i'm blissfully spared fr0m the hassles 0f l0ving.

Missing Blogspot: i'm babbling back

i didn't think I'd really miss blogspot. I was content with my friendster blogs...despite of its limitations. then suddenly, I decided to open my blogspot site and then I felt it: I really missed blogging in this site. I missed its privacy. I missed the fact that in here, I could blabber and blabber about anything and everything without worrying too much who might be reading it or who would reading meanings behind the lines I've written --- As if I'm not already that honest when I write --- and as if reading behind the lines would be necessary. But then I digress.

So today, I just felt like blabbering. I can reserve the political stuff for the friendster blog...here, I can reserve the blabber and the blabber and the blabber...

Yes, I can even speak freely against my boss inthis site. I can bash him to pulp....and I wouldn't even be disbarred. But then, I do not even have the energy to bash him right now...he's an old man after all.... So what's the point...and he give me much leeway...which so fine with me...

Ahhh...the freedom of not worrying of coherence....Aftter working on a 35 going 40 page Motion for Reconsideration, coherence is not somethiung one would like to hear of...nauseating...So I'd be as incoherent as I can...wehheeeeee..

A year has passed...

How time flies. Last year, when Manila was ravaged by storms I couldn’t even care less. I’d still wake up seven in the morning. Prepare my sandwich and my thermos. Pack my books, my book stand and head for the Main Library. I don’t care if it rained and rained and rained. It doesn’t disrupt my daily routine. I’d still read and read. The periodicals section would be eerily empty. The storm with its winds would rage and I’d just stare blankly as I drink my three o’clock coffee during my cigarette break. I’d only get irritated when GMA announces a no-workday for government offices. By then I’d be ousted from the library: me and my books head for the windy UPM tambayan…I’d continue to read. That was a year ago.

It’s still rainy in August. A year has passed and the weather in this country is as predictable as ever. But I’ve changed. Thanks God. I’m through with that manic reading. A year has passed and yet my body has not forgotten the stress and the weight of focused attention. Here I am, suffering still from the rebound: unfocused, relatively unstressed, carefree as I was care laden a year ago.

I know it is time to pick myself up and start a career. Start another round of hectic days and nights. I feel guilty as it is from too much alcohol, too much Korean Novelas, too much of a care free life…On the other hand, I still have mountains I dream of climbing. I still long to climb level 2 mountains, run 10 k and 15 k, and go for the Induction climb. I know I am a pathetic mountaineer, gear wise, but then, its not really the gear and the gadgets that make up a mountaineer…deep down, it is still the drive and the desire to climb. And climb I will. Regardless of the difficulties, I’ll pray, I’ll try, and try to make and find a way.

I am updating my resume though. I have to. Justice is really pushing me into drafting the administrative complaint. I’m dilly-dallying, I’m playing bookworm instead of working on the pleading. For two hours of drafting, I play three to four hours of bookworm. But I know, soon the complaint will be finished and I’d have to submit it. Redraft, and then sign. But before that time comes, I know I’d have to resign. And before that happens, I better have an alternative ready to save my day. I really want to find a work that is real. I want to find a work wherein I’d be able to practice my knowledge of the law. Draft more pleadings, read more case files, appear in Court. Though I know that it would mean that my life would be a whole lot difficult; it would also mean I’d be learning. I’d be on the path of becoming a good lawyer. And one day, I’d be able to use that knowledge in helping those who are in need.

Once again, I’m back to where I’ve always been --- not knowing what lies beyond the horizon. I thought before that I’d really stay with Justice ‘til December --- but now I am not too sure. I pray. Once again, Lord, Please hold my hand, help me find the right path. Where you’d want me to travel; where I am called; where I am needed; where I am supposed to stay. Laer Meg Kjenne dine veie; Og go dem troisteg skritt for skritt…. Teach me to know thy ways, and walk them trustingly step by step….

pregnancy: why it's not for me

1. i don't like taking care of babies. I
2. i hate cleaning Kahlil's pooh
3. i can't imagine myself ballooning so big and then be required to push it all out in one blow
4. i have no maternal instincts whatever
5. i can't even manage my own finances, much less be responsible for another human being (a helpless one at that)
6. i don't have the energy to get up in the middle of the night and fix my child's milk ( i remember the movie "son of the mask", he ended up feeding the baby with the lamp's bulb--- out of the dad's sleepiness)
7. i relate more with angelina jolie's look in Mr. and Mrs Smith when handed with a baby, as if saying "Hey!What am I supposed to do with this?"
8. i can't smoke smoke and drink by then (I admit it, i'm still too selfish too be nurturing!)
9. well, prizes are all going up
10. i've still mountains i dream of climbing
11. books to read
12. cases to win
13. ideals to chase
14. stories and novels to write
15. i might end up screaming with mychild in frustration. me in not knowing what to do with him/her. the baby, in utter frustration in having such an incompetent as a mother

There are many more reasons. But I have to go. It's almost 10 o'clock. Why am I writing this?Coz Tan-tan's pregnant. That makes me, the eldest in the family, the only childless being. I'm not jealous. I am thankful. I can't imagine how I'd react if it were me. I admire Tantan for deciding to go through with it, just as I admired Tati for going through with it. Just look at Kahlil, its all worthwhile. Whenever I fear being pregnant, I find myself praying earnestly. More earnestly than I ever prayed to pass the bar. i'd pray to the Virgin, who was once told by an angel "Do not be afraid Mary," I'd pray to her and tell her I'm sorry that I can not not be afraid. I'm not as courageous as she is. I ask for mercy, I ask for grace that I'd be given the chance, for I know deep down, I cannot, as yet, get pregnant. To date, she's been hearing my prayers, and I am thankful. So much thankful that I do not, as yet, have to go through that grueling nine months which they all claim to define the "essence of being a woman" (yeah right!- Chang and me). Fini.

PS:
All the luck and all the support for my sister dear. we are family!!!Ah Jah!

Making Up for the Unfilled Spaces;unfilled Void; and Time Lost

10 june 2008

It’s the first day of school in BSU. I feel utterly depressed, thinking of students and teachers rushing to their classes. Thinking that I’ve left teaching for a year now.. and going on to my third semester of quitting teaching. I imagine the faculty room, the thrill of meeting the new sets of students for the semester. The hectic schedule…the things to be done…the different school activities. Here I am, alone in this cubicle.. supposed to be editing---no actually supposed to be overhauling my pleading and making another one---differently organized. It’s like seeing your own child mutililated….I can’t seem to commence with the mutilation. I hate second drafts, third drafts…fourth drafts… I hate re-thinking and reorganizing arguments. It makes my head spin…my ego and pride wounded… To organize only to be disorganized. Why am I writing this? So that I can get on with my second draft. Then to the third and the fourth until Justice is satisfied…Otherwise, I’d just stare at this computer’s screen: My depressed self and my wounded ego. Finding that the day has ended without me having accomplished anything substantial.

Resolution:

1. They say, the only way to learn is to make mistakes. I am redrafting, so that means I’ve committed a mistake and I’m in the process of learning.
2. Don Juan says, the first enemy of a man of knowledge is fear…that is the fear of learning and committing mistakes. I am now afraid. If I permit myself to be swallowed by this fear, I’ll never get beyond the first enemy of learning. And I’ll never get anywhere else.
3. Coelho says that by knowing the wrong answer to a question, one eventually gets nearer to the right one. Obviously, the wrong answer right now is to refuse redrafting and reorganizing. Another wrong answer would be to give up totally and to think that I am no good for anything.

I think I’ve finally worked out my depression. I’ll now begin the process of redrafting.. which, I believe is the process of learning and becoming a woman of knowledge..whatever that means…

16 June 2008

Is love measured by the cash we send? Is our care and affection measured by the frequency of our deposits? I believe it is not the measure of love. It is not the measure of affection and care. But still I am bothered. Bothered to hear my mother’s voice, telling me of the difficulties that they encounter and experience. How she has to borrow money to buy her medicines, how she had to walk from home to school then home again. How they she had to keep a straight face after having borrowed too much from too many. Money isn’t supposed to be the issue. Money isn’t supposed to buy happiness. True happiness and true love. But it does bring comfort, it does fill the stomach, and quench the thirst. These I have to acknowledge.

I made the call cause I missed my parents, but try as I may I couldn’t help but somehow regret that I callled. Regret that I have to listen to their difficulties and how helpless I am to help. Except send money, and even I, in this cruel city find myself oppressed by the absence and the need for money. I remember last week. I was absent for work on a Wednesday, I told my boss I suddenly developed a fever. The truth? I had no money at all to pay for my fare to the office. But to admit the same would be too embarrassing, too shameful...that I had to lie. Now what can I do to ease my parents’ burden? Yes, send them money. And more and more money. Till they feel I’ve cared enough. That I’ve loved enough. I am indeed getting bitter, and so I hate myself. Says Kahlil Gibran, if thou gives but loveth not the giving then you better not give….

I will love the giving. I will remember how my parents nursed me from birth. I will remember the days they’ve clothed me, housed me, sent me to school. I will remember the days when I asked and they gave. When I requested and they looked for means to provide my need. Love is not indeed measured by the amount you send, or the frequency of the deposits. No, I guess it’s the thought of caring enough, remembering enough, to feel the loved ones’ needs and difficulties…To be there in their need, not to have forgotten what they’ve given, and in the same spirit send bank the care and the love they’ve freely given.

I hope I’ll feel better. There are still things that money can’t buy. Like the flock of birds that just flew in front of this building. Through the glass windows of the 11^th floor, I see them fly side by side, in a V formation, in the midst of Makati buildings, they seem an apparition. A miracle. A reminder of the beauty of life. Of what money, still couldn’t buy….

17 june 2008

I’m facing an affront of my capabilities. I’m on the verge of self-pity. I’m on the verge of self-pity. How should I react? The pleading I’ve been working on –a Motion for Reconsideration – has been drafted and redrafted four times. Every time my boss wants to incorporate some argument or point, I had to redraft and reconsider : not only the organization of my arguments, but also the words that I use…and the pleading gets longer and longer. More and more incoherent with all the points my boss wants to add. Like a whole being, grafted with another arm, and then another, and then another. That after all the embellishments --- the being, which used to be whole looks like a statement of the art of mutilation.

Finally, after writing the fourth draft, I thought that I’d finally be able to end the 15 day ordeal --- But no! Boss remains unsatisfied. Picky and particular as he is in his old age. He calls ate Lulu for a dictation. Me, my 30 page Motion for Reconsideration to the trash bin. How is a person supposed to react in times like this? Can you blame my desire to wallow in self-pity?Can you blame me if I so want a drink? Can you blame me if after this the thought of quitting would cross my mind from time to time?

Come to think of it. I really did try to satisy Boss with the arguments he desires---Of course it wouldn’t all come out in the manner he utters them----There are other arguments to consider, there are prior paragraphs and succeeding paragraphs to consider. There’s the need for compositional organization. But then, he really did seem dissatisfied…that he’d rather do it himself. Hay. I’m utterly sad. Useless.That I couldn’t even make an MR to Boss’ liking… after having worked on the same for almost 15 days….I think I know what Atty. Mia felt when she made the Lokin pleading. And yeah…I probably needed her goodluck in Pacioles, it seems my luck has run out these days….

My own lessons for today:

I could wallow in self pity. I can hate myself and question my ability. My person because of what justice chose to do. I can do all these. I can self destruct. But I won’t. This is but another path I have to travel. Another pain I have to feel to make me move forward and go on. I remember feeling the same way several years ago…When I was scolded by Maam Ablanque, when she told me that I am giving my students the wrong experience. It was probably the worst insult of my life. I felt like crying then. I was teary eyed but I never broke down. I did not cry in front of her and in front of my students. I just remember how shattered I was then. How I held my head up high and explained to my students….I never allowed the moment to destroy me and my belief in myself and what I can do. But I kept the lesson though….As I remember, I was not doing anything wrong then… I was teaching to my heart’s content…I was then beginning to love teaching…and it was what I got…. If I allowed myself to be defeated then, I would never have experienced the joy of teaching. I would never have the chance to show Maam Ablanque that I am and I can be a dedicated teacher. I’ll remember this as I face today’s problem. If he finds my work unsatisfactory, I will try to see the reason why and to learn with an open heart. Socrates says, he who knows he does not know is the wisest person of all.

I will not be defeated by the first enemy of a Man of Knowledge ….which is fear. I will not fear. I will not be afraid of making mistakes. I will not be afraid of being made a fool. If such is the path to knowledge, if such is the path to wisdom.

I am quite sure, not all great writers, not all great lawyers began great and began wise. They all had to start somewhere.

I'm Back...and for Good!!!

I haven't been blogging for several months and I never realized how much I missed it until I've seen my blog page. With the latest entry at January 2008. I feel utterly delinquent. I should make up for the spaces I've failed to fill, and the void I failed to conquer. Here are the back entries. (Good thing I've been saving journal entries in my lap top...makes the making up for the unfilled spaces andvoid a whole lot easier). Warning though, these entries could be more than a mouthful.

14 July 2008

I still can’t get over what javabeans wrote in her blog when she analyzed Gil Dong and Yi Nok’s compatibility, she said “ It’s not not that they’re right for each other because they’ve grown fond with each other (although its true). They’re right for each other because they complement each other’s values, and will hopefully, bring the best in one another.” Sigh. Yes, both Gil Dong and Yi Nok had the impulse of helping other people, to the extent of sacrificing themselves in the process. These they did; without even knowing they were doing the same things ----without even planning or talking about it (as a matter of fact Yi Nok believed Gil Dong to be dead when she decided to help the village girls) they just believed in the same things…Deep inside, they hold the same values.

When will I ever find a companion like that? One who holds the same ideals, the same beliefs, the same values…and would fight the same fight I’d be fighting? Who would be willing to walk the same path with me? Not just because it’s the path that I chose to travel, but because he/she, on her own, would have traveled the same path. Perhaps, when I find my own path, when I know myself enough to know the path that I am meant to travel in this life, then I will find and will know my companion. Yes, I’m just too impatient. How could I expect to meet such person now? When I, myself, has yet to discover, has yet to hear and heed the call which will lead me to the path this life is meant to follow. When I find my path, then eventually I will meet him/her. For by then, we would be traveling the same road. We would be fighting the same fight. I just hope, that as I tarry, as I doubt, as I stumble on my way to that ONE path, he/she will patiently wait for me to get there… (Such a nice realization that I actually didn’t see it coming…I’m relieved…for somewhere, out there, he/ she is perhaps also trying to find the path that we’ll eventually travel together: as fate would have it, as God would will it to be)

Another thought on Yi Nok and Gil Dong. What really drives me crazy with their love story is their utmost loyalty to each other. Unlike other Korean Dramas where love triangles, love squares abound. In Gil Dong’s and Yi Nok’s case, they never ever wavered. Though Eun Hye was very persistent in winning Gil Dong’s affection, and even if Chang Wei wooed Yi Nok at such lengths (protecting her and all --- open with his feelings, without any thought of self-preservation), Gil Dong and Yi Nok remained true to each other. Gil Dong had eyes only for Yi Nok and Yi Nok only sees Gil Dong, though Chang Wei stands nearby. Though in the drama they’ve been separated several times, it has never been the issue of love : it was Gil Dong’s desire to protect Yi Nok; it was Yi Nok trying to obey what her birth dictates…Too ideal? Yup. But I can hope can I? Can such love exist? Can such unwavering affection and loyalty exist in real life? Another thought, Yi Nok was always open with her emotions, her words, her actions speak loudly of her affection for Gil Dong. This without even any indication (except for the fact that they’re constantly hanging out) that Gil Dong likes her. But that doesn’t stop her from showing Gil Dong how much she cares. Eventually Gil Dong himself opens up and was in turn affectionate towards Yi Nok. Is there a lesson here? Can a woman of the 2oth century dare to wear her heart on her sleeves as Yi Nok did? Will the man/woman of the 20^th century, as a lover, eventually open up and remain unwavering in his/her affection?

These times, the values taught are self-preservation and pride. One is taught to make sure that the emotional investment is proportionate to the yield. One just can’t be selfless, otherwise, one ends up abandoned, fooled, forsaken. It has become a game of power and of expertise. No wonder I can’t convince myself that I’d find a Gil Dong-Yi Nok kind of love life any time soon. That’s just asking for too much. But then again, I can hope can I? Besides, that’s the love I’d like to believe. Though my intellect tells me that affections, particularly love, never really lasts a lifetime, much less can it be as constant as to be unwavering ----- I would continue to dream and to believe. I would still wait for the moment when I feel like I’m loved in an unwavering manner (no matter how brief it turns out to be).