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hey, look, it’s 2012

my last job was one whole year of awkward experience. because the manager was a complete idiot. i mean it. and she power trips too. like, literally “I’M THE MANAGER HERE!” when she feels as if she’s stuck in a rut. i mean a power tripper by itself is already quite a handful, but a power tripper who is a complete idiot? i thought these things only happened in movies. how she got that position is beyond us. but you know this world is full of mysteries.

now i’m in a job that pays better, where no one is a complete idiot but there can be bullies who show their superiority in ways other than power tripping. i think i can deal with this. because there is no such place that is completely and absolutely asshole-free. so i’ll take one where my hot buttons get pressed less often than the last one.

so i haven’t complained about employment issues a single time since i started here in november 2011. whereas the rest have complained and writhed and tossed and turned and made a general disturbance at one point. because, yes, i admit that there are some organizational problems that need to be sorted out big time. but everytime i feel like complaining or joining the huddled masses with their torches and pitchforks, i just think about my previous manager and i am knocked docile.

in short, my last harrowing job experience had a greater purpose. it has made me calm.


guess where i’m at. work, of course.

usual of me some three years ago, i abuse company resources by logging into my blogs. fortunately for this job, i don’t go to facebook on company time. if i get discovered doing this now, i will take it as a sign to move on to bigger and better things. i don’t really mean that. i’m good here. until some fantastic opportunity swirls past with great paintbrush effect, i think i’m staying here.


my cousin went back to the philippines the other day and i went back to being the big gaping hole in the furniture that sometimes brings home fruits and vegetables from the market.


i told my husband we should seriously round up some people to make music. nah, that’s too much work. no, really, we should. yeah, we should harmonize “who’s holding donna now”. yes, and “big yellow taxi” and “you’re so vain”. now you’re just thinking of songs with solo female parts. ok, how about “human nature”? that’s good. and something from spice girls, maybe “too much”. that could work. fabulous. you do realize this takes a lot of practice? i know, isn’t that great?!?!

worth remembering (ca. june 2004)

(for c.u., on the crest of a frightful breakup)

  • there’s something about forgetfulness which brings people back to reason. amnesia occurs to every other bubble-haired heroine in siesta-time soap operas, so we dream at 3pm that our realities can also be distorted beyond recognition. we wish memory weren’t as persistent as that dali portrait of melting clocks.
  • you might notice that amnesia in soaps happen at the most strategic of moments: when the heroine is sick with unbearable longing. pining for her lost love, she listlessly walks across the middle of what seems like a deserted street when out of nowhere a punk driver swerves sharply from the curb and knocks her on the pavement, conveniently tossing her head onto the gutter. as she wakes up to fluorescent lights amid crisp-linen nurses and medical interns pretending to be busy with checking for vital signs, she is stricken with trepidation that she remembers nothing. shit, not even her own name. then, she is reborn.
  • she discovers a new love, this time more emotionally stable and more wealthy than the root cause of her amnesia. she builds a business empire of some sort or becomes a budding superstar while the new paramour looks on beaming with fatherly pride. and then she becomes famous all over mexico (philippines/puerto rico/wherever).
  • there’s a jim carrey-kate winslet film coming up about a medical procedure that could erase painful recollections a patient might wish to dispose of.
  • we could only dream it were that easy.
  • people try to rework the past by restricting memories. they commit to flames (quite literally) every object that jolts recollections of a history once held in a position of sensitive merit. they were content. but with dust in their eyes and a swelling in their throats, they linger a little longer as they scrutinize the gradually dying fire that took away every last piece of a putrid past. ashes never really amount to anything special.
  • personally, i’d rather stack them away where molds would fester them.
  • but the now-famous soap princess, bedecked with weighty gems, hair chopped to a mod bob or something radically different from what used to be low-maintenance, runs into the old flame and is heaved into a stupor of aching remembrance. the face is familiar, but she can’t quite recall where it belongs… and the season ends with a wedding.
  • the amnesiac ends up with the forgotten.
  • we could only imagine broken hearts were restored in such a fashion. pain would have been but a myth. we wouldn’t really want that, would we? there would have been less poets and more mortals.

what i found on my way to the mobile drive

when chief dragged me one sunday into the apple store (as in gadgets), i would stop a few times midway to have myself distracted by other things that could possibly inspire and/or motivate me. so i lagged behind to read book titles and synopses, spent a few moments to browse through clothesracks, rubbing my thumb and forefinger against the grains of fabrics to give me some sense of expertise. i took the most time finishing a book whose art vastly exceeded its story. i was just too demotivated to even analyze what the whole point of the story was.

so i finally stepped into the apple store. i am in no way particularly attracted to gadgets, old fashioned that i am, so i just hovered around chief and the salesdude, not even vainly trying to understand the tech jargon which will forever elude me. but i was happy to just be around unfamiliar territory, so my interest in being there was genuine, though not addressed straight at the things that most people go in there for.

and there i saw it. among the accessories, the skins, or whatever it is they call these adhesive images. recessed behind graphic renditions of emotions and popular notions. work that captures precisely the predominant feeling of one significant aspect of my life. it quite literally took my breath away. and i found myself just standing there like an idiot, looking up at it like a holy man.

this is the exchange by brian despain


it has been so long since i have become so enamored by a piece of creativity. i was washed by the same force of realization as i was having read jeanette winterson‘s the passion. only this time, it took only a split second for me to find the feeling.