About to watch 'New Year's Eve' on New Year's Eve....
..... so went my Facebook status a few hours ago. Caught for the first time a bus to the Tanforan Mall in San Bruno from Daly City just to accomplish this regular mission of mine of being touched by a feel-good movie. Never really thought I'd go past my usual "aww" and "haha" moment.
Somewhere in this link is my "past-my-usual-aww-and-haha-moment". If from this blog site's description you could already surmise I'm a daddy's girl then for sure you'd know I could identify with Hilary Swank's character in the film. I am Hilary Swank's Claire Morgan. My dad is Robert De Niro's Stan Harris.
You see my father, my daddy, is not perfect. But he is as sweet as any father can be to me, his daughter. I'm sure that in his own way, provided that if he were somehow a little better than he actually is (right now), he would want to be with me however far I am; that he would want to silently witness and cheer for how I've been and for how I have managed to raise and eventually pull down a giant crystal ball.
Happy New Year, daddy. In my dreams I am beside you, my head resting on your shoulder and you kissing my hand.
Click If You Dare
Saturday, December 31, 2011
Tuesday, December 13, 2011
This Christmas
... will be my first in the US with my husband.
... will be my first away from my dad.
... will be my first with my first job in the US.
... will be my first without a 13th month pay.
... will be my first with my first Louis Vuitton bag, however pathetic this sounds.
... will be my first with an iPhone and not with a Nokia, again, however pathetic this sounds.
... will be my first wishing [now] more than an ever that a baby is on the way.
... will be my first feasting my eyes on San Francisco Christmas lights.
... will be my first without the Ayala decors.
... will be my first [literally] cold Christmas.
... will be my Christmas of my many firsts.
It's happy. It's sad. It's luxurious. It's expensive. It's a first in a totally and completely different way. There's a yin and a yang ring to it. And then there's the birth of our Savior.
The birth.
A birthday, any birthday, it is usually a cause for celebration. But this one's that of our Savior - our Savior who eventually died on the Cross so that from then on and in the centuries to come we'll have a Christmas that's brimming with lessons, like the bittersweet fruitcake in tragedies and like the glistening snow in the purity of joy.
... will be my first away from my dad.
... will be my first with my first job in the US.
... will be my first without a 13th month pay.
... will be my first with my first Louis Vuitton bag, however pathetic this sounds.
... will be my first with an iPhone and not with a Nokia, again, however pathetic this sounds.
... will be my first wishing [now] more than an ever that a baby is on the way.
... will be my first feasting my eyes on San Francisco Christmas lights.
... will be my first without the Ayala decors.
... will be my first [literally] cold Christmas.
... will be my Christmas of my many firsts.
It's happy. It's sad. It's luxurious. It's expensive. It's a first in a totally and completely different way. There's a yin and a yang ring to it. And then there's the birth of our Savior.
The birth.
A birthday, any birthday, it is usually a cause for celebration. But this one's that of our Savior - our Savior who eventually died on the Cross so that from then on and in the centuries to come we'll have a Christmas that's brimming with lessons, like the bittersweet fruitcake in tragedies and like the glistening snow in the purity of joy.
Sunday, November 13, 2011
Material Dreams
Every now and then, I'm guilty of looking at certain shops and websites that sell items whose extravagance could make both pretentious and practical eyes roll.
I'm actually a little bit of both - I'm pretentious on one side, practical on the other. I am willing to bet though that the impulsive in me could beat the impulsive out of anyone (one evidence is me buying an advance Christmas gift for hubby - a $100 gift card that he can only use for himself and himself alone).
Besides, it really doesn't hurt to dream, right? Many have spoken of how the brain can turn dreams into reality. Many have thought too that it can be the other way around. So whether or not the material girl in me drops by a website or a store to turn her dreams into reality or to exhaust herself into thinking a certain that-time-drool-worthy item is not worth it after all, allow me to post a list of what I could someday tick off as whether purchased or trashed:
1. VOLKSWAGEN - I couldn't really care less if it's a 2012 model. As long as it's a blue Beetle and as long as I can pay tribute to Bumblebee (Corvette, you are not the original Transformers Bumblebee car) and to my dad's blue circa-70s Volkswagen, I'm happy. Of course, it wouldn't hurt if it's brand new. *wink* *wink*
2. LOUIS VUITTON BAG - Make it specifically a Totally MM Monogram Canvas LV bag. I love its classic look and versatility and the fact that with proper care, I can turn it over to my future daughter and still not lose its value.
3. CHANEL BAG - I love a good, classic piece. And when I say "classic piece", this Chanel Large Flap bag fits and meets both my requirements and needs to a T.
4. RUBY AND DIAMOND EARRINGS - Almost two decades ago, I lost the half of a pair of ruby and diamond stud earrings (in yellow gold) that my mom gave me. I had a school-related accident and we thought it either fell somewhere or the one who assisted me got it and took it for herself. Whatever the case may be, to pay tribute to my mom and to the fact that ruby is my birthstone, I really, really wish to have one like it again. Almost like it. I don't want it to be in yellow gold. I want it to be in white gold. So lucky and happy to have found out that the style is still available.
I still have a few more items in my wishlist. A digital SLR camera (with an Adobe Photoshop software, please, LOL) and a new phone, included. These items though have yet to be more specific, brand or specs-wise. The four items above, in the meantime, would do. Is there a Santa Claus for adults? Or should I keep thinking (just thinking) that I should try the lottery once and for all?
Monday, October 10, 2011
Isn't It Ironic?
An old man turned ninety-eight
He won the lottery
And died the next day
It's a black fly
In your Chardonnay
It's a death row pardon
Two minutes too late...
-- "Ironic", Alanis Morisette
Excuse me as I try to be a drunken combination of positive and negative tonight. Sabi nga nila, "Walang basagan ng trip."
Tonight (or today) I applied the new Blogger interactive layout.
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Funny how this one came up when the one I've been curious about is the new Facebook Timeline. Why is it, if it's launched already (I may be wrong here...), that I can't seem to find a way to apply the changes to my profile? Oh well... And about my old Blogger layout... Oh. That. Sh*t. No revert button. Have to apply a temporary, more logical, close-to-home layout.
Great flight back to San Francisco. Getting bumped to an earlier flight for free couldn't be more perfect.
~~~~
I wish though I shared it with my husband.
~~~~I miss my dad.~~~~
According to Steve Jobs and I quote: "Your work is going to fill a large part of your life and the only way to be truly satisfied is to do what you believe is great work. And the only way to do great work is to love what you do."
~~~~
He also spoke of being able to connect the dots of our own life by looking backward.
I've always known, and said, that I found my niche in corporate training.
~~~~
I am in operations. I truly hope this is just anxiety as I can't be picky.
It's 12:15 am. Was able to catch my favorite TV shows and play Cityville on Facebook.
~~~~
The bed is as cold as the Bay's natural airconditioning.
I love my new shoes.
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I just am not planning to use it to run from bad elements. God help me get through yet another week of 10-minute evening walks. :/
~~~~ I should treat my husband once I receive my first salary.~~~~
Received my associate handbook in the mail.
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Which reminds me, how on earth am I ever going to be able to finish my compliance training courses when, starting Tuesday, I will be performing my primary duties already as a teller?
Thursday, September 22, 2011
On Faith: Let Me Be the Last Person to be Questioned
Now this is one touchy subject not just for me, but for a lot of people. I actually had not realized its sensitivity until I was told that my husband and I should join Couples for Christ or something like that to enlighten ourselves.
Honey, my husband and I neither need to join groups like that nor have the need for enlightenment where faith is concerned.
This comes on the heels of recent episodes in my life involving challenges after challenges after challenges involving my father's health. I feel bad about having to bitch at people who I know mean well but just rub me the wrong way when they tell me to be strong or to pray.
Darling, I have neither given up nor stopped praying.
See I believe that each of us has our own relationship with God. It's a belief that has not changed and has stayed with me through the different phases and chapters of my relationship with Him.
It is no secret that it is frowned upon by most people if discrimination exists on the basis of religion. I particularly do not like it if a certain group claims that their faith is stronger or deeper or that they are the only ones that can be saved during Judgment Day. Why? It is unfair. It is hypocritical. It is astonishingly boastful and contradictory to any teaching about humility.
Humility is about accepting that there's a difference between me and you; that what may be applicable to one may not be applicable to another. It is also about believing that no one is above anyone; that one's strength may be one's weakness and vice-versa.
I know. I do sound like a self-righteous braggart, contradicting my own words with what seem like double standard principles. But here's the thing: I do not need to join charismatic groups or switch religions to deepen my faith in Him and glorify His work. I'm not saying either that this is one firm resolve on my part to put a ban to keeping my options and my mind open about things like this. In fact, I laud the good that groups like these do. It's just I have my own way of proclaiming He is my God. And if I finally feel the need to be a part of one to expand my worship activities (Yes, dear friends, I go to mass! Regularly!), I will just join one. No questions asked.
I can go on and on like a self-proclaimed preacher so short of becoming one, let me end this blog by saying that though I truly appreciate words encouraging me to be strong and to pray, know that I just do. Otherwise, I wouldn't still be here. At all.
Tuesday, September 20, 2011
Dear Mommy
Happy birthday!
I'm sure that from heaven, you read my FB status earlier - five years have passed and there's not a day, a single day that I don't miss you.
When I woke up this morning, I cried. I cried just for the thought that, well, I can't share things with you and have you respond like you used to. But don't worry, mommy. The pain is much lesser. Gloria Vanderbilt, mother of CNN Anchor Anderson Cooper framed it well when she said that we never really move on or get over the loss, particularly the death of a loved one; that we learn to live with it.
Tell me though, how do I get through the start, or the middle/peak/climax - depending on which way or how you look at it - of a pain again? With dad, I am, once again, going through the same painful journey that I first had with you the moment you were diagnosed with Dementia of the Alzheimer's type.
I was in denial at first, firmly shunning thoughts of hardship and helplessness as I took things a step and a day at a time. And when time came that I couldn't shun these no more, I still walked forward as I knew there was no turning back.
Then again, what can I do when the very person I turned to when you breathed your last is now suffering, himself?
Mom, I know it's your birthday but on this very day that I learned about dad's condition, can you do me a favor? Can you hold dad's hand and whisper thoughts of assurance on my behalf as he goes through the amputation of his left foot? Can you stay beside him as he goes through yet another painful episode in his life? Can you let him know that I love him as much as I love you? Can you help him carry himself through the way you had done so during your time? Can you, just like you used to, help me pray to God to ease dad's suffering?
I know what I am asking for may be too much. It's just it tears me apart to have to learn about these things when I'm several thousand miles away.............
Wednesday, September 14, 2011
First September in the US
Being asked how long I've lived in the US is tricky for me. The answer's always composed of two parts: the one that says I arrived on an immigrant visa in July and the one that says I've been in and out of the country since 2008 on a tourist visa.
The above statements are not really borne out of anything technical, e.g. visa applications, immigration concerns, etc., but over the past couple of months I've learned that it's essential to be slightly on the defense whenever I find myself in similar situations. Why? I had to prove that though I am fairly new to certain things in my current country of residence, I am not clueless at all - something of which I had to consistently be clear about during job interviews. Plus, it's for my sanity too. I just don't want to feel "tanga" (stupid's the more or less exact translation for this Filipino word but the bite that comes with saying the exact term is more appealing than saying or in this case, typing, its English counterpart).
Anyhoo, this blog's not really about my feelings of katangahan (again, "stupidity"). It's about what has happened so far since my last blog a month (? - far too lazy to check my blog list. lol ) ago. Why place this much emphasis now? Well, it's because the month of September in the US is the month of my many "firsts":
1. It's my first September in the US. I was in Florida and California in August of 2008. I returned to the country in January of 2009 to get my Nicaraguan visa in Los Angeles and in March of the same year for a week's worth of vacation/stopover in the Bay Area before returning to Manila. When I got married in 2010, I stayed with my husband at our South San Francisco home from January to July of said year.
2. It's my first time to miss a visit from Aunt Flo (yes, we're TTC). Six urine pregnancy tests and one blood test all said that no, I'm not pregnant. It's my Cycle Day 43 now. I'm normally on a regular 28-day cycle, give or take a day or two early or delayed. If I were pregnant, I would be six weeks on the family way already. This morning though, and I don't know if it's just my eyes deceiving me, I may have just been given a signal that this bloody old hag is soon to arrive. I know. Too much information. Can you blame me if I still am wishing for those two lines? At this point though, it's either I don't test (last test was a week ago) and/or Aunt Flo shows up to end my suffering.
3. It's my first time in Seattle. Sergs and I spent a long weekend in the state of Washington. We were there from September 9 to 12. Our very hospitable and gracious hosts who took us all over the city and beyond - Sergs's cousins Roger, Joan and Mike, and their partners Eva, Ivan and Lura, respectively - were also accommodating and warm - as warm as the weather when we got there! Seattle is normally much colder than the Bay Area but it was unusually hot when we arrived - perfect for a lot of firsts for my husband and me. Ivan and Joan took us for our very first boat ride on their sailboat, "Moment". Eva coaxed the Sims/Facebook-playing me to try their Kinect (for Xbox 360). My thoughts were also filled with Grey's Anatomy episodes with backdrops of the Space Needle, the usual tourist spots and salmon - lots of it! I didn't know Seattle was famous for this fish. Now I know. lol.
4. It'll be my first day as a full-time teller for Bank of America on the 26th. From this statement alone you can tell that there's a lot of firsts to it. It's my first job in the US. It's my first time in the banking industry, let alone, my first experience as a teller. I am actually excited. If the job had been in the Philippines, my emotions would have been the exact opposite: salaries of tellers in my native country are equivalent to my first salary after college graduation - my last job in Manila gave me four or five times of this amount. Besides, the fact that I'm a college graduate of one of the finest universities in the Philippines tells me I can do better. Right now though I can't be picky. For the 13 million who are currently unemployed in the US, I can now say that this job offer at least grandly pulls me away from this horrible statistics. My starting rate and the benefits included are actually better than most hourly jobs. It also doesn't hurt that I'll soon be working for the largest bank in the country and that the branch where I'll be assigned is composed mostly of Filipinos.
5. From the 27th to the 30th, it'll be the first time that Sergs leaves me alone at home. He'll be on a business trip in Oregon. Obviously I'd have to stay because of my job but then this also brings forth the fact that I'll have to make it on my own travelling-wise. Ayaw pa kasing mag-aral mag-drive eh even with the promise of a new Volkswagen. lol.
Monday, August 22, 2011
Wish List
- I want to get pregnant, to conceive, soon. I want my husband to enjoy fatherhood while he is still in his 30s. I want my dad to enjoy the thought of having an additional grandchild while he still can. More importantly, I just really want to become a mom already.
- I want to land a job; a job that's enough to make a decent living if and when the worst case scenario happens. Not that I'm entertaining this horrible thought. Hubby says we're safe. It's just I can't rid myself off this nagging feeling, at least, for my own sanity's sake, that I have to contribute.
- I want my father to suffer no more; no more additional wounds, no more additional pain.
- I want that conflict with an uncle and his family to be fixed once and for all. It's unfair and is not just doing anyone any good.
- I want to overcome my fear of driving.
- I want to be able to find a really good reason to agree to go to Seattle for a 3-day vacation next month.
I have so many other wants, so many other desires.
The ones listed above are tagged as "high priority".
Wednesday, August 10, 2011
27 Years of Me
I celebrated my 27th year on July 19 but I had so much on my plate from a week before that up to a few hours ago that I never got around to blogging about my special day.
So how has it been for me for the last 27 years? Let me see if I can pinpoint the particular highlights of my life:
____________________________
1 year old - 3 years old - Nah... Haha. I was alive. I was a toddler. These were my development years. That's all there was to it. :)
4 years old - First year in school. Nursery Red PM (afternoon sched! haha) at Colegio de Santa Rosa Makati.
5 years old - Second year in school. Kinder Pink PM. Same school. I think this was the time I received my first ever salary (P100! Hah!) as a Batibot child star. ;)
6 years old - Pre-school graduation. I was part of the Green afternoon section (yes, pre-schoolers from nursery to prep had colors for sections). First time I wondered why I wasn't called more than once during the graduation ceremonies. I didn't want a medal. I just wanted to be called more than once. lol
7 years old - First grade. Camia, morning section (woohooo!! was getting tired of missing my afternoon TV shows). Same school but with different section names (apparently, colorful toddlers transform into fragrant flowers upon first grade... connection? none. I just made it up. lol). Got my first 90s ratings on my quiz results. This delighted my parents. Had me subconsciously pushing for more.
8 years old - We moved to Laguna because it was where dad was able to get a job as the chief of staff of Laguna's 2nd District congressman (Rodolfo Tingzon Sr.). I remember moving primarily because our landlord at our Mandaluyong apartment wanted to end our lease and use the space for something else other than a rental house. This year also marked my first time in a co-ed Catholic school called Canossa (Colegio de Santa Rosa is an exclusive Catholic school for girls) and my first time to be a part of the honors list (First Quarter, Top 10!).
9 years old - My first special award during the recognition day ceremonies. I think I also won in a quiz bee. I remember living for a year in a pink apartment.
10 years old - Frustrated that I still ended up with a certificate during the recognition day ceremonies. This time I wanted a medal. In the meantime, dad got what he had always wanted: a house and lot for the three of us.
11 years old - Finally got my first medal. I was in the Top 5 during that year, I think.
Valine, my bestfriend |
12 years old - Graduated Salutatorian :) Became bestfriends with a really slim girl who has a golden voice named Marie Valine C. Alvarez.
13 years old - Had to transfer to Canossa School's rival educational institution in Santa Rosa, Laguna. First time in a non-sectarian co-ed school called Holy Rosary Academy (HRA; now Holy Rosary College). I think it was because 1) HRA was one of our printing press's clients; and 2) the school offered a 50% scholarship for me. I can't forget being criticized by a classmate for speaking in English. This year, aside from becoming the associate news editor of our school newspaper and becoming Miss Campus, I met my first boyfriend. Haha.
14 years old - Broke up with my first boyfriend because I met my first love at a provincial student leader gathering where I became the "Junior 1st District Board Member". My favorite subject was Biology. Recognition ceremonies had me marching to receive my medal for finishing the year as "Second Honor". I think it was also during this time that dad was diagnosed with diabetes. I felt it was something grave to the point that I actually cried. Dad just dismissed the thought.
15 years old - I became the school paper's editor in chief, the province's "Junior Vice Governor", the school's representative to a Chemistry contest (I won, surprisingly, as Chemistry's not really my best and favorite subject - I'm scared of the Math involved), the Junior-Senior Valentine's Party's "Star of the Night" and the girlfriend to my close friend who later dumped me for another girl. I also had a boyfriend during the same student leader gathering that gave me the title Junior Vice Governor. Oh yeah. I had a really looooong hair, if you know what I mean. ;)
Rosas ng Santa Rosa 1st Runner-Up 2001 (2nd to the right) |
16 years old - Became the "honorary editor". Won in the Division Secondary Schools Press Conference but failed to grab a spot in the Regionals. Became the Student Government Mayor too. But I only won because the lower batch voted for me. I got only one vote in my batch - mine. Disappointed my dad that I didn't graduate the Valedictorian/Salutatorian or at least the 1st Honorable Mention (I ended up being the 4th Honorable Mention/6th Honor due to a lot of extracurricular activities). Regained dad's trust when I ended up becoming one of the three students from our school who passed the University of the Philippines College Admission Test (UPCAT). In the same year, I joined the Search for the Rosas of Santa Rosa (Rose of Santa Rosa/Miss Santa Rosa) and ended up first runner-up. The winner backed out from joining Miss Laguna and I was obviously next in line. My beauty pageant career was cut short due to a misunderstanding between my mom and the gay pageant coordinator. Hehe.
17 years old - 2001 marked my freshman year in the Philippines' premier state university. I was very lucky to have gotten into the flagship campus (Diliman) that my parents rented an apartment in Pasig City to "guide" me during college. I also got into a course that was never really my first choice (my original choice was B.A. Broadcast Communication; people thought I spoke and looked like former Senator Loren Legarda). I later thanked my lucky stars for having chosen B.A. Speech Communication instead as it turns out to be the "mother" of all communication fields, Broadcast Communication, included. It was in this year that I found out that my last high school boyfriend had been cheating on me. The nerve to send a text message (or call) his other girlfriend using my mobile phone! He was stupid enough to have not thought of deleting the evidence. Prior to the end of the year, I met a guy from my circle of Chalk Magazine student correspondents colleagues. Yes. You guessed it right. Another boyfriend.
18 years old - My mom and dad didn't exactly tell me that they didn't have enough money for a proper debut party for me. P4000 shopping money instead of a party? I just knew. I wasn't complaining. For an October 2001 article in Chalk Magazine about a UP Diliman urban legend entitled "Red Eyes" (white lady with red eyes in the College of Education building), I appeared on the now-defunct TV show "Breakfast" on ABS-CBN's Studio 23. This was also the time I started working part-time as an administrative clerk at Speechpower in Espana, Manila.
19 years old - Relationship with boyfriend #5 was starting to go downhill. Met a dreamboat and broke up with #5. Dreamboat was a law student, an honor graduate of the school that I was then attending and for me, looked like John Lloyd Cruz during that time (WTH was I thinking?!). He was an alumnus of the art society organization of which I was president. Our relationship was tumultuous with numerous on and off episodes but I fell hard.
20 years old - Mom had always suffered from hypertension. One night, I heard dad trying to wake mom up. She was drenched in cold sweat and was unconscious. Dad's co-terminus post as staff member of another Laguna congressman had just ended but we still blindly rushed mom to expensive Medical City. Upon arriving at the ER, the doctors had to rush her to the CT scan room as her blood pressure shot through the roof, they feared she might go into coma. I locked myself up in the bathroom and cried. Half of me was scared that something grave might happen to mom, half of me cried for the situation dad was in. I knew he was just quietly taking it all in. He was, at the same time calmly telling me that his medical insurance as a legislative staff member might not be in effect anymore. I told him that since I was already in my senior year and that I had a few units left, I could work at a call center at night and go to school in the morning. Turns out dad's insurance was still in effect and I spent only a night as a call center employee (for Teleperformance... hehe). I got promoted to the position of trainer at Speechpower, graduated Cum Laude and became the only one from our course who got into the UP College of Law.
21 years old - We were fastly running out of money. Mom was diagnosed with dementia of the Alzheimer's Type. We went back to our house in Laguna. I was struggling with law school. It was harder than I had ever imagined especially when I was trying to balance a day like this:
- Wake up and take a shower at 3 AM
- Leave our house in Santa Rosa City, Laguna at 3:30 AM
- Arrive at Convergys Makati for my part-time call center job at 5 AM
- Stay in the office and take advantage of the free coffee to keep me awake while studying from 1 PM-4:30 PM
- Leave for UP Diliman at 4:30 PM
- Law classes from 6 PM-9 PM
- Back in Laguna at 11 PM.
- Study from 11 PM to 12:30 AM.
22 years old - Mom died due to complications. I can't remember if it were pneumonia or sepsis that took her life. I just remember her succumbing to diabetic coma and shedding two tears - one for dad and one for me - the moment she breathed her last. Caught boyfriend #6 with another girl. Relationship very much over. Followed by a series of crying episodes. Started to work full time as a sales and marketing coordinator. Certainly not the best of my career choices.
First property under my name. |
23 years old - Finally became a full time call center language trainer! :) This meant that I had to give up law school though. It nevertheless turned out for the best as my being a trainer enabled me to use what I had studied in college. Met again this guy who was friends with boyfriend #6 and who had been beating himself hard for not courting me in the past. He was cute. But that's all there was to it. He was a smoker and during that time, still a college undergraduate (he's two years older than me!). I paid for our dates. And yet again, obviously not one of my best choices this time, relationship-wise. Broke up with him after seven months. I couldn't take the fact that while I was paying for our dates, I was also paying for my bank housing loan (dad and I had to let go of our Santa Rosa home - apparently we were way behind mortgage payments; good thing my salary was big enough for a loan that helped us move to a 2-BR low-rise Taguig condominium). I was also gunning up for a promotion and paying for dad's medical expenses while he was at his parents' home, playing DotA.
Sergs and I in Disneyworld |
24 years old - After years of frogs and toads, I finally met the man God intended for me. Cheesy, I know. But who wouldn't believe in fairy tales again if one learned that this guy and I were born on July 18 and 19, respectively, and that we are both Cancerian Rats? He's boyfriend #8 and like the number, couldn't be any more perfect :) The same year in 2008, apart from having my first ever plane ride (business trip in Cebu; I was at a high - company's been sending me everywhere and I was in love!) and first ever trip to the US (vacation/international "date" in Walt Disney World <--- where dreams come true. hehe.), dad was diagnosed with kidney failure. For the first time since my bathroom episode in Medical City, I cried buckets due to a parent's deteriorating condition. Mom's saving grace was dad's medical insurance. Dad's saving grace was my medical insurance. My saving grace from an emotional breakdown was boyfriend #8's assurance of love in spite of and despite of who I was, am and will be. On December 25 of 2008 at 8 AM, Sergio Gabriel G. Prieto proposed.
25 years old - After almost three years at eTelecare Global Solutions (now Stream Global Services), I resigned. I was a month and a few weeks shy of reaching my third year in the company but it was all worth it. My reason? I donned a white dress and walked down the aisle to become Mrs. Maria Preciosa C. Prieto. :)
26 years old - I met my half sisters. Joy and Karen are older than me by two years and six months, respectively. I had always known their existence but it wasn't until dad's November 2010 hospitalization that I met them. The first few months were rocky between me and them. Things have improved so far and yes, there are still challenges but we're getting there as sisters.
Precious at 27 |
27 years old - For the past few weeks, I've been telling potential employers that though I'm fairly new to the Bay Area, I've been in and out of the US since 2008. It's merely to dispel the thought that, well, I'm a newcomer and completely clueless. Nevertheless, it's true. From 2008-2010, I had been in the US on a tourist visa. Now at 27 years old, in 2011, I'm back in South San Francisco on an immigrant visa. I'm more or less back to something close to a zero (I have yet to learn how to drive!) culture and career-wise, but it's an upgrade. Maybe a new lease on life. And though I have this void in me because of dad's health condition and because I can't really bring him to the US, the loneliness is balanced by the wonderful fact that I'm finally with the other man in my life, my husband, for good, and that we can already start our own family.
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I know. My storytelling isn't the most stellar. And I know there are times, depending on who's reading, that I might have crossed the invisible line and become the boastful ass.
So how do I explain 27 years of me to other people? Let's just say that I was the girl who had big dreams but not big enough to dream of someday meeting the perfect husband who loves her dad like his own and living with him somewhere other than good old Philippines. I'm not complaining. I still have big dreams. It's just I know that for all my self-righteousness and my imperfections, it never dawned on me that I'd be where I am now. One thing's for sure, each time I pray, I firmly and sincerely say "Lord, there's so much in my life that my human thinking tells me that I do not deserve but if You said I actually do, thank You, and that's what I would start to believe as true." Sounds familiar? Think of it as my version of "Lord I am not worthy to receive You but only say the Word and I shall be healed."
Friday, July 29, 2011
Last night I dreamt of daddy...
... he was in his old healthy (with the big tummy) form standing on a chair and talking on his mobile. I was pleasantly surprised at having seen him after passing through a makeshift parking lot full of rubbles from a torn down building near Crossing on Shaw Boulevard. I was in a rented SUV and the driver stopped when I called dad's attention. I thought he'd ride with me but instead he just left three magazines and closed the door just as quickly as he opened it.
An article I recently read about dream interpretation talks about how dreams are our brain's way of storing memories. If this were the case, then passing through the makeshift parking lot with the rubbles and then seeing dad in his healthy form represents memories of working in Manila, strapped of cash and seeing dad as my savior - just one call and he'd pick me up and automatically take me to some place where I could eat. I had never thought of asking how his day was or how he had managed to pick me up even if his own schedule were packed and if he, himself, were on a tight budget.
His healthy form, talking on his mobile while standing on a chair, no matter how funny it seemed, represents memories of how he's always been a stand out. He's 5'2 flat but he's a very aggressive communicator - my strict writing and speaking mentor, my inspiration and idol.
And when he opened the car door just to leave the magazines? It's probably part of a recent memory when he took me to the airport two weeks ago. And maybe, just maybe, it's his "pabaon", his way of leaving a legacy for me to use and cherish as I go my own way.
Wednesday, July 27, 2011
Dad, If Only You Could See This Now...
If only you could see this now, if only you could see me now, if only you could see where I am now...
I know you are not blind and you still are very much alive but there have been lots of times when I wished you were with me as you had always been before.
I sometimes find it not fair that for someone like you who has gone through so much, you still have to suffer so much more. Last week, you could barely keep your back straight and two minutes upright, talking to me on the webcam, was already a feat for you.
It was not like this a year ago. Nor was it, in any way, like this two or three years ago. If only, if only.
You told me that if only you had not made a decision to choose to stay in the Philippines out of "utang na loob" from a politician godfather, you and mom would have found yourselves raising a family in New York. And you would have been enjoying the retirement spoils of your wonderful stint in Merrill Lynch.
But here you are, barely able to put to use what remains of your severed right index finger - the same finger you had used so many times to document your life, mom's, your siblings' and their families and mine. You wrote - oh how strict but aggressive you were in your written thoughts! You had - and still have - always been my idol and inspiration even now as I write this. You took pictures - lots of them. You pressed the buttons of a tape recorder to capture moments.
I think I told you how much I wished you were with me on my first plane ride. But it was a business trip so what could I do? Financial problems brought about by your illness, mom's and bad business turnouts prevented us as a family to go on vacations via plane rides together. The closest you were to the planes - with me - was when you took me to the airport and when you picked me up and welcomed me back.
Somehow each time I went to the airport I wish the Philippines were like the US or other countries where relatives could wait with their loved ones until it's time for security check and/or boarding. But then I would try to justify, each and every single time, how Philippine airports were made; that they're made as such to strengthen an individual's facade, to toughen one's persona, when a separation was imminent and a goodbye was to be said.
And yet I still find myself crying once more, wishing that I could hear you say "it's cold here", "the food is good", "that was a bumpy ride - too many air pockets", "there are a lot of Filipinos here".
I miss you dad. So much. I now am a married woman, finally with her husband and trying to start a family. But a part of me remains a little girl, eager to discover and experience things with her father.
Saturday, July 9, 2011
Sound Bites: Stung
I have never scrimped on dad on a whim. I have never wanted to do that. Haven't I been criticized by a relative or two for taking him to the hospital one too many times when these relatives thought that his situation could improve at home? And even when the doctors, themselves, actually said otherwise, they still never believed it so?
I know the wheelchair I bought, the cane I purchased, the home improvements I had done and so many other things could never come close to the value of my obligations for him but please understand, I have my own sanity to take care of, my husband to attend to, a limited budget and time to work on and people to deal with. The last thing I need right now, especially when I have six days left in Manila is an ambush. If last-minute expenses could be delayed or postponed, why not? If we could resort to cheaper but efficient alternatives, why shouldn't we?
___________________________________________
If marriages go sour, one can and must expect that at one point or another, skinny high school girls grow and gain muscle/fat. I wouldn't call a spade a spade especially when my situation and yours differ greatly from hers.
___________________________________________
It's 3:07 AM and all I want to do is cry. My almost year-long stay in Manila is coming to an end. When I returned on August 1st of last year, dad could still walk, I hadn't met my half sisters yet and I didn't have relatives to butt heads with. Now dad can barely walk, my relationship with my half sisters is awkward and painful and all the hurt didn't spare my affiliation with some of my relatives and friends.
Friday, June 17, 2011
Blog Challenge Day 13
A letter to someone
who has hurt you recently
I have two letters. One for each person who has hurt me recently.
______________________
Dear You:
You hurt me. And I already told you why. I know by blogging about it, in the process, I hurt you too. For my words in that blog and for the blog, itself, I'm sorry. I let my emotions carry me away. But it's hard to be sorry for my emotions. Though I have professed, time and again, that my main purpose for losing weight is about health and not about vanity, I think, as a person who has such concerns, I am entitled to feel raw about those things, however big or small they may be, however funny or well-meant they are. You should know that you're not an isolated case. I even sometimes attack my own husband if extremely sensitive me (I'm a Cancerian!) thinks he goes beyond "wanting me to lose weight for health reasons". Shhh... Hehe.
I wish you the best on your upcoming wedding. I'm sorry I may not be able to attend. You're always in my prayers.
Always a friend,
Presh
______________________
Dear You #2:
I hope that you received my last text message. You know my only wish is that you and her realize daddy's worth before it's too late. I also hope it's clear to you that even if you hurt me so bad by calling me names, should you both decide to show up before I leave for the US and declare your commitment in helping me take care of dad, I'd still welcome you in my house and leave behind that ugly past.
It's true. I hurt you too. But I wish you see that it's only because I had and still have high hopes and expectations from the both of you. I love dad so much that to have to leave him in a month's time will surely make me cry while on the plane.
It's Father's Day on Sunday. I pray that you find it in your hearts to really forgive him. His only wish is to see us complete. His only wish is to be given a chance to be a dad to you. It's not too late. Though I have already left everything in God's capable hands, I am somehow keeping the faith alive that he'll live long enough to see his grandkids from me and to see his grandkids from you.
Please do not waste this chance.
Your sister,
Precious
Wednesday, June 15, 2011
University of the Philippines: Students & Graduates, It's Payback Time!
OBLATION. The ultimate symbol of sacrifice in honor of service to the country and to humanity. |
Through blogger and former Chalk Magazine Official Student Correspondent (OSC) to the University of the Philippines (UP) Diliman colleague Ivan Henares, I found out about this (please click the title):
New UP policy 'requires' med, nursing, public health grads to serve in Philippines within five years
The article talks about UP's new Return Service Agreement (RSA) policy that requires future graduates of the abovementioned courses to "serve for [two years] in the country within five years after graduation, or pay back twice the cost of their university degrees".
This had Ivan and me, along with other friends of his, debating on whether or not this is a good policy. Supporters base their arguments on the statement that taxpayers spend an estimated P1 million to produce a medical graduate of UP. Some even went to the extent of saying that this policy should include all students in the university and not just those taking health-related courses.
I say no to this.
CASAA. This is where many UP Diliman freshmen are found eating and studying |
Given this situation, if my family and I, at our financial status during that time, were already having difficulties, how much more if the ones involved were those who had it harder than us financially?
In my years as a language trainer at a call center in Manila, I interviewed a lot of applicants and talked to a lot of trainees who had nursing degrees. The period between 2007 and 2009 was the time when the country was producing a lot of nursing graduates but coming up with little job offers that had income commensurate to the profession level. The Philippines then found more and more medical professionals - nurses and doctors alike - looking at and searching for greener pastures.
Why wouldn't or shouldn't they?
There was a time I was enraged to have found that for a certain month, I was handling language training classes full of nursing graduates and professionals. I thought: "You guys are only using this free language training in call centers just so you can pass the language test required for your application abroad."
Then there's the nursing crowd who only took the course because that's the only way they could have a degree to their name. Those who were often clueless about what to do with their lives after high school often fell prey to the wishes of their benefactor (a parent or a relative) that they choose nursing over any other course as the profession pays well. And pay well it does. In another country. This crowd, after realizing that such scenario only happens after successful but often lengthy and arduous applications for jobs abroad, gathered courage and took the easy way out: They do not want to become nurses anymore. They have good paying jobs in call centers anyway.
What a waste!
Overtime though, I became more sympathetic to the plight of medical professionals. With the United States (US) in recession and working visa for nurses in retrogression, more and more turned to jobs in other countries. Some even had gone to the extent of accepting jobs as caregivers even if they're really qualified as doctors. I then knew that I had to balk on the idea that what's happening was less than honorable for the country.
TREE-LINED PATHS are all over the academic oval. |
Don't get me wrong though: I do not wish to malign Rizal's life. My dad and I still think that he's the best Filipino that ever lived. But "country first before personal interests" may just be a little bit too ideal for the average Filipino graduate these days. When I say "average", I mean someone who do not have Latin honors tied to his degree and is bound to start with a salary that is only as high as P13,000. This graduate, most likely, is someone who lives in a rented apartment with aging parents and two to three younger siblings that he is expected to support once he starts earning.
What is P13,000 these days? P13,000 is the cost of a Nokia phone with 3 or 5 megapixels primary camera, a VGA secondary camera, a music and video player and an internet browsing capability. P13,000 is the monthly amortization one needs to pay if he has a 30-year Pag-ibig housing loan for a 2-BR condominium unit in a low-rise complex in the suburbs of Taguig (not the Bonifacio Global Complex, my dear!). P13,000 was an ordinary UP student's tuition fee for the entire year during my time (2001-2005). P13,000 is the cost of a three to four day hospital stay in a semi-private ward at the Philippine Heart Center, a specialized government hospital. P13,000 is the total cost of a Philhealth-subsidized dialysis treatment for an entire month at Hemotek, a renal center in Manila.
P13,000 is... not enough. For the upper and middle class, yes, maybe, it just simply isn't enough. But what about the poor? What about our average Filipino graduate whose entire family relies on him after he gets his degree? Let me provide custom-fit calculations:
___________
SALARY: P13,000
INCOME AFTER TAXES, ETC.: P11,500
Transportation fare for a 22-day work month: P352.00 roundtrip (if employee's office is only a jeepney-ride away with P8 as the normal fare)
Food at work (P10 mineral water, P5 1/2 rice, P15 viand...x 22 days): P660.00
Cellphone credits (let's face it, this IS important these days): P100
Electric bill: P500
Water bill: P500
Apartment rent: P3000
LPG tank (for cooking): P500
Rice for a family of four: P600
Grocery for a family of four: P4000
TOTAL: P10,212
Budget left for other expenses: P1,288
___________
P1,288. Can our fresh graduate manage to put something in the bank with this remaining amount? What if, God forbid, someone gets sick in his household? What about the expenses he incurs just to get to those government institutions that provide medical assistance? How about his siblings' tuition fee and daily school allowance?
I may be wrong with my calculations. I may have underestimated or overestimated this and that. But the figures I presented were based on how tight I could be if my dad did not have thrice weekly dialysis treatments or if we're not shelling out more than P15,000 monthly on his medicines (and that's with the 20% Senior Citizen discount already!).
So what about our medical professionals?
In the Philippines, private hospitals offer between P6,000-P10,000 a month as a starting salary for its nurses. Public/government hospitals pay a little more and with great benefits but are still no different or better than our P13,000 example earlier.
Doctors, in the meantime, ordinarily receive P500 per patient. Big, huh? Wait 'til you find out about just how much is the chunk that goes to their overhead expenses (utility bills, assistants' salary, etc.).
Comparing these figures to what medical professionals receive abroad, it is no wonder that though we have a surplus of graduates in the fields of health and medicine, we still have a shortage of applicants willing to receive such meager amounts.
In Canada, a typical 8-hour shift of a fresh nursing graduate renders a salary of P9,000 per day. Multiply that with a 22-day work month and deduct the taxes (let's be generous, this country is rich, anyway: 40%) and you still get a net pay that's more than enough to afford families comfortable lives.
Many will surely find tons of loopholes in my argument. I know, for sure, I'll get bombarded with cost of living comparisons, etc., but hey I'm not stupid. If my parents scrimped and saved and even sacrificed their own needs just so I could be a nurse or a doctor or even just an ordinary college graduate, it's them that I would first think about in terms of finding a job. This is not to say I would also not think of myself. I would. And if that meant a job abroad that affords me a better life for myself and for my family, I'd say, why not?
It's disappointing that many UP students and graduates come up a little too short-sighted with the reality that's facing many of their fellowmen. Sure I can't expect or convince everyone to side with me but I beg my fellow alumni to think about this:
UP, along with other state universities and colleges in the country, exists mainly to provide the best possible education for poor but deserving students. It recognizes that not all students who go to UP are rich or at least have a family that's financially capable enough to support their kids through two (or five) years' worth of RSAs after graduation. Not everyone can afford to hop from one company to another, test the career waters and meditate about their true purpose in life. Not everyone can choose the path of the righteous and the ideal over the path of the practical if their family's life is already at stake.
Lest we forget, the university hymn, "UP Naming Mahal" (UP Beloved) talks about vows of being a loyal son (or daughter...to the country) wherever one may be. And I quote:
Filipino lyrics | Original English lyrics | |
i. | i. | |
U.P. naming mahal, pamantasang hirang | U.P. beloved, thou Alma Mater dear | |
Ang tinig namin, sana'y inyong dinggin | For thee united, our joyful voices hear | |
Malayong lupain, amin mang marating | Far tho we wander, o'er island yonder | |
Di rin magbabago ang damdamin | Loyal thy sons we'll ever be | |
Di rin magbabago ang damdamin. | Loyal thy sons we'll ever be. |
To say that if one did not wish to serve the country after [graduation], one should just go to private colleges and universities is not, in any way, fair. Again, we have poor students who do not have this choice. We also have people who received their degrees from private learning institutions who do extremely well in serving the country. Hopefully, we do not fail to realize or accept that serving the country is not limited to staying.
We can be honorable men and women, excellent in our fields, wherever we may be. Just look at our Overseas Filipino Workers (OFWs). They're one of the biggest boosters to our economy.
MAIN LIBRARY. Known as "Bulwagan ng Dangal" or Hall of Honor in the university. |
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