Maybe it’s as simple as “I’m an escapist”. But I’d like to think it’s more than that.

I’d like to blame it on all of the books I’ve read growing up. The Tales of the Otori. Alice In Wonderland. Wizard of Oz. Peter Pan. Norweigan Wood. Etc. The Magazines. The Travel Guides I’ve seen lying around the house when I was a kid.

Maybe it was seeing the pictures my mom took home when she got back from a conference, a training, her work sent her to. With tales about the freezing temperature in Frankfurt, the scary plane ride and the sheep in New Zealand, the theme parks in the States that made my 8-year old self wide eyed and asking for more.

Maybe it was the feeling I get when the plane just landed and I’m lined up at the immigration, waiting for my passport to get stamped. A map, my itinerary in my bag. A list of things I needed to see, experience, taste in a piece of paper – my lifeline in a country I do not belong in. Excited. Anxious. Dying to get out of the airport so I can start getting lost.

Maybe it was the high I get from getting off random train stations, walking by myself in a street that I cannot find in the map I was holding (most probably because I can’t read a map to save my life) – looking like a tourist but feeling like a traveler. My feet will hurt eventually, and I will be wondering how to get back to where I’m staying at and to my friends – but there will be that place and knowing that after a few hours of walking around aimlessly has changed me (in a way).

Or maybe it’s just that the world is so big and there are just so many things to see, experience, and do. And knowing that one tiny town can hold generations worth of stories reinforces the fact that I am just one inconsequential speck and there’s an entire universe out there that’s waiting to be explored.

I don’t know why, really why there’s this need for me to hop on the next plane out and walk around a place I’ve never been to.

To be honest, this post has no point (like most of my posts). All I know is that I have this itch that I need to scratch. I want to pack my bags again and get on a plane with my passport, a few change of clothes, and my passport (money will be needed to). And be somewhere else other than this little room in our office, typing out a blog entry about being somewhere else (and working too).

Sometimes it hits you. When you least expect it to. When it’s quiet. Or dark. When you can’t sleep. When you’re staring into space. When you’re in transit. When you’re eating by yourself. When you’re walking down the street. When you close your eyes…

The images come back. How he looked like in the hospital table. The last words he told you. The last time you went out and had coffee just the two of you. The last time you had an argument. The last thing you felt before you said goodbye.

And everything hurts and you can’t breathe. And you can’t help but just wish for the world to open up and swallow you whole – because you can’t imagine what life would be like without him around.

Who will drive me to work now when I’m running late or when it’s raining hard? Who will text me at 3am asking me where I was? Who will accuse me of being drunk when I come home at 4am, bumping into things? Who will laugh at my jokes or make fun of me when I’m taking his picture? Who will wake me up at 6 in the morning asking me how to play games on my iPod? Who will do all of the things he used to do?

And I just can’t imagine getting used to not seeing him in the morning, weeding his garden. Or having him bug me about having my teeth checked. Or see him in the kitchen, having his morning coffee.

And I can’t imagine this pain ever going away. Because everytime I close my eyes, I just see him in that hospital bed, no longer with us, and being unable to recognize him.

I overheard my mom talking on the phone this morning with her friend and she told her that we’ve already accepted the fact that my dad was gone. That’s a lie. I haven’t.

Haruki Murakami once said “What a difference a day makes” – I don’t know where this was lifted from, maybe from one his books, interviews, etc but to that all I can say is “Indeed”

My dad died last Monday, Feb 13, 2012 due to complications from the medicine administered to him after he had a Heart Attack. I blame the doctors for his death. It was so sudden. One minute he was ok, we were talking, and the next minute he flat lined. And now, whenever I close my eyes all I can see is him on his hospital bed, lifeless. And I can’t get the image out of my head.

I went through Feb 13 to Feb 21 feeling like my life wasn’t my own. Like I was stuck in someone else’s body, living a nightmare and I can’t seem to get out of it. Sometimes I feel like I’m floating. My brain quit functioning properly days ago and my heart just won’t stop breaking.

I am reminded of my dad in every single thing. The empty chair in our dining table, the pair of shoes under the living room sofa that we haven’t touched yet since he died, the chipped paint in my bedroom wall, the empty clay pots in his garden… Every.Single.Thing.

And I still can’t accept it. I still hope that he’d come home tonight or tomorrow from one of his random trips to Quezon laughing at us for thinking he was dead. I still hope I’d finally be able to get out of this body and go back to my own, normal life. I still hope that I’d wake up from this nightmare… eventually.

A couple of my friends who’s had one of their parents pass away told me that this will not be easy. What an understatement.

My sister’s home from Canada and won’t fly out til mid-March. I dread the day that it’ll just be and my mom at home. Quiet rooms, quiet halls and the absence of the smell of coffee at 7 in the morning will hit us with much more intensity than they ever have.

And my question is: How do we move forward from this?

Also: When will my heart stop breaking?

When the things you like remind you of the person you want to punch in the face…

I met this person (ok, a guy) some time ago at a party. He was cute – just to get that out of the way. But the important part was how he became a person of interest. Boy was pretty smooth, I have to admit. He was my “Before Sunrise” moment. Just like the movie. What started out to be just a drop off, ended up to be a drive home and the two of us talking til the wee hours with just a bottle of wine between us.

And he pushed the right buttons. Actually, I don’t remember how the conversation went anymore but I remember sitting side by side in the park bench outside our house and just laughing and laughing and laughing. I think we talked about the bands we liked, our favorite movies, the tv shows we watched. And we had a lot of those things we both liked – and they left me wondering (probably out loud) why I haven’t met him before.

And I had the warm fuzzies. That warm fuzzy feeling you get at the pit of your stomach. Butterflies. Tornadoes. A blessing of unicorns. An unkindness of ravens. It felt nice. And I remember it so well because I haven’t felt that way in a long time.

And the highlight to this romcom-esque night was when he leaned in to kiss me. And for a moment, I thought, “well this must be that can’t-eat-can’t-sleep-reach-for-the-stars-jump-over-the-fence-world-series kind of stuff that Diane Lane talked about in It Takes Two”.

And the moment had to end.

I did see the guy a couple of times after that. All amazing times for me. But just like the rest of my love stories, this ended with him disappearing. Ninja Vanish. Poof. And that left me hanging and thinking and struggling with unresolved issues/feelings and unanswered questions for a while.

After awhile I found out he got back with his ex and he moved to a land far far away.

We still talk sometimes – barely. Short messages over Facebook and YM. Nothing worth overthinking about. But he’s still the same. He still manages to push the right buttons for me. But the warm fuzzies have been replaced by that overwhelming need to punch him in the face just to get all that unresolved blah out of my system.

Well no, I’m lying the warm fuzzies are still there. And they’re nice feelings so I’m glad they haven’t completely gone away. Even with the realization/acceptance that this was just… something casual.

At least I have an interesting story to tell my friends over beer and whining.

Just when I thought I’d survive 2011 unscathed, December knocked me out with an unexpected turn of events. Certainly made things interesting (good/bad, I do not know).

C’mon 2012, what do you have in store for me?

This weekend, I spent approximately 7k. 3 days, 2.3k per day.

• Friday – Ponti + Taxi = 700
• Saturday – Grocery + Gas = 2000
• Sunday – Divisoria = 4000

Whataweekend. Payday just hit me and I’m already broke. Somebody keep me away from my wallet. :(

A bit iffy about my new Project Manager. I mean I’m happy we’re no longer outsourcing to Yellowasp (I know they’re really good but they’re a pain to work with). So far I’ve had 4 Project Managers for CCP and yeah, maybe we are a pain to work with too; but 2 out of those 4 I really didn’t have a problem with (the 4th one didn’t work with us extensively so I really can’t say much about working with him). Why? Because of the following reasons:

1. They gave feedback when feedback was needed - especially during emergencies. especially when feedback was needed immediately. especially when I have abso-fucking-lutely no idea what was going on.
2. They explained things pretty well - I’m amazing (and humble too) so most of the time I know what’s going on (nothing like a little Google to help you in times of ignorance). But sometimes Google = information overload. Plus there are jargons to look up so what was originally a one item research usually becomes a 10 item research. So I appreciate a little 101 when there are issues that are not for the kids who did Basic Math in college. Oh and please, don’t use highly-technical words. It doesn’t make anybody sound smarter, nor like you know what you’re talking about. Using big words won’t impress me and make me stop asking questions or pestering anybody.  If you can’t explain it, then it means you don’t understand it well enough yourself. 
3. They didn’t promise anything - In my book, PMs should never ever ever promise anything. Especially since last time I checked, we are still in a world where “anything can happen”. Deadlines can be pushed, Requirements change, Earths quake and a sneeze from the other end of the world can so much as cause a hurricane on the opposite end. So don’t promise me anything. Don’t promise me that the site will be fast and there will no longer be any downtimes. Don’t promise me that you know what you’re doing. Because sooner or later those promises will come and bite you in the ass. And in this team, honesty is always the best policy.
4. They consulted - They didn’t decide to do things on their own. They didn’t change specs just because they thought it would be better. They asked. Because in the first place, it’s not their place to do so without consulting with the business owner first. At the end of the day, it’s my project, it’s my business – I make the decisions (or in some cases I consult with other people who should be making the decisions). Granted that in some cases, your way can be better or it makes more sense – OK. But at least have the decency to consult with me. Coz in the project food chain, business owners trump project managers in the decision making.
5. They were trustworthy - Sometimes it’s all about the hips. There’s a certain aura that is needed for Project Managers. It’s this aura that makes people trust you and trust what you’re saying. When I ask for something, I want to feel that I’m sure I will get what I asked for (on time and correctly). If you don’t think you can deliver it on time, then say so. If you have questions, then ask them. Because when you don’t do any of those and you come back to me late, and with the wrong requirement – then I will never ever trust you again. And when I don’t trust you, I don’t want to work with you.
6. They recognized that I am the business owner - Bypass me and I will wring your neck. I don’t care if you consulted with the CEO (of the other company, to be exact). He doesn’t make the decisions for this project, I do (and by I, I mean after I’ve consulted with our big boss, the marketing head, and the rest of the team involved with the project). So yeah, even if you’ve consuted with him, it doesn’t change the fact that I no longer need to know what’s going on. In fact, I need to know what’s going more than he does. And you need me to know what’s going on, because at the end of the day, I have a say in your evaluation.

So basically my new PM isn’t any of the above. But I’m gonna give him the benefit of the doubt. It’s only been less than a month. If he doesn’t change after we’ve talked, then I will strangle him.

I recently made my list of things to do before I’m 30. I’ll be 30 in 3 years and several months so the pressure is on! I realized that most of the things on my list are travel related.

Some things on my list.

1. Sleeper train across South East Asia
2. Backpack across Europe
3. A month in a different country – or at least a month travelling.
4. Bagel in New York
5. Batanes
6. Japan
7. Volunteer (Immersion style)

(was supposed to post this last night but internet connection was being a bitch so… here’s my post 1 day later)

My sister left for Canada 4 hours ago. She’s probably somewhere in HKIA right now waiting for her connecting flight to board. I asked her to eat Chicken Rice for me.

The house is so quiet it’s depressing. I’ve started to move in to her room. Cleared out some of her old stuff that she didn’t want to be shipped to her along with some of her clothes/shoes/bags/books. I have yet to figure out where to put her school stuff (books,papers,notes) that we didn’t want to throw out. Right now, her floor is covered with plastic bags filled with trash while my room is a calamity area full of her things (as well as mine) to be stowed. I haven’t transfered my clothes and books yet.

I’m posting this from her room. Which is now technically, my room.

I think the reason why I’m 10x sadder than I ought to be is because she and I haven’t been close til after I graduated college. Before that we were always fighting and I refused to tell her anything. I always saw her to be the “perfect daughter” that I always get compared to. And for the longest time, I thought she hated me. Suffice to say, we didn’t use to get along.

Fast forward to after college, she was the only person I could ask about finding work, borrow interview clothes from, and count on to be objective about stuff. I realized just then that being “on my side” didn’t necessarily mean sharing the same opinions I had. It was only then did I accept that she knew more than I did and that she wasn’t so bad after all.

And since then she’s been my favorite travel, food trip, shopping, movie, true blood marathon, etc etc etc – buddy.

I know I should be happy for her. She’s got loads of opportunities waiting for her in Canada. She’s on her own, and has tons of adventures to look forward to.

And I am. I am happy for her.

I just can’t help but feel lonely and sad for myself.

So I guess this brings me to my goal. CANADA and GREECE 2012! I can’t very well let her have all the fun.

cheers to my sister who’s off having a grand adventure.

Now that I’m 25…

It doesn’t feel like I’m anywhere near seeing my dreams turn into reality.

I don’t even remember what my dreams are anymore.

What have I done all these years? I’m so close to saying nothing.

Cheating Bastards should have their penises cut off.

Douche bag Story 1:

Ate M and E have been together for 10 years. 10 years!! Everything seems to be well until Ate M finds out that E has been cheating on her. And that’s just the tip of the iceberg. E is actually in some sort of relationship with this other girl, S – and they’ve been together for 2 years now. More or less, If I’ve got my stories straight. But that’s just unimportant details.

The point here is that E is an absolute douche. And S is a slut with self esteem issues to get into a relationship with a guy who’s with somebody else. But I really could care less about S. She has her friends to worry about her welfare (if you can call people who let you stay in a relationship with a guy who’s been together with another girl for 10 years, friends).

E on the other hand should get bitch slapped by 10 million Shivas. Why do that? Why ruin a 10 year relationship only to get defensive and grovel when caught?

And secondly why send messages like this to Ate M’s sister?

“i didn’t ask u to lyk, trust me. we nvr interfere w/ ur lives. she’ll still listen 2 me, wer fixing our lives so don’t interfere. its our lives nt urs.shes old enuf to dsys herself. we’ll still get marry if we dsyddd 2.”

Although odds are saying that this isn’t E texting, we’d like to assume that this is his doing just to keep S out of this post.

First: Honey, your grammar is atrocious. I don’t know if that’s just driven by raw emotions but well we can safely say that that message isn’t doing anything to help your cause, E.

As for S, he did it once. And to the girl he supposedly wants to marry. What makes you so sure he won’t do it to you too?

Douche Bag Story 2:

Ate A is married with 2 kids with M. Now M comes home saying he’s got another girl pregnant. To this all I can say is: OFF WITH HIS PENIS!

–

Why do guys cheat? I refuse to believe that it’s built in in their system. And they can’t help it. I have guy friends who have never cheated on their girlfriends. My dad has never cheated on my mom. My friends’ dads have never cheated on their moms.

Only morons would accept cheating to be a fact of life. And only bigger morons would allow themselves to be the other woman/man. Why let yourself go through that? Why would you think so low of yourself to think that you don’t deserve somebody better? By somebody better I mean some guy who’s not a douche.

Anyway for the people who will take the “but we’re happy and we’re in love” road… Then break up with your girlfriends first if you’re really so unhappy with her. And then you’re free to fuck around. It’s actually common sense.

So to the people who like to defend douche bags who cheat on their girlfriends (of 10 years), grow a brain. If this actually happened to you, would you be so pro-S and pro-E?

Repeat after me folks, CHEATING IS NEVER OK!

Nothing says “The End” better than a broken red headband.
2007 seems so long ago and I’m not the least bit sad for it.