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?

i made this, with my older sister in mind. freezing her buns off in Canada, she likes pretty things… pretty being “pretty practical”, “pretty comfortable” and “pretty awesome”. so if your sister is anything like mine, this might be just for her too.

1. Red Knitted Scarf (asos)
2. Wellingtons (hunter boots)
3. iPad (apple)
4. The Look Book by Erika Stalder (uo)
5. Friendship Bracelet (asos)
6. Amazing Grace Body Spritz (philosophy)
7. Minnetonka Kitty Suede Moccasins (madewell)

wouldn’t you want to be my sister? not that i can afford any of these but at least i’ve got good ideas! haha

Tuesday nights are always Ponti Nights (Ponti being the bar at the 2nd floor of our building). I try to make it a point to at finish by 8pm on Tuesdays (since I end much later the rest of the week anyway) lest I go crazy from work-related stress. I think I’m nearing my burn out point.

So anyway, Tuesdays. Ponti Nights. My friends from work and I would buy our set of beers (3 for P100 if you’re a VIP which we’ve become thanks to being at Ponti every Tuesday since January and nearly everyday 2010) and a pizza or a platter of wings (if we have more than P100 in our pockets), and gossip for the next 2 hours.

More often than not, we would sing our hearts out to 90s pop music that the dj would be playing. If we’re lucky, it would be Rocke-oke night so we get to sing our hearts out to 90s pop music in front of a group of equally-drunk people with a band to back us up.

But then, sometimes, we have the bad nights.

Bad nights can be defined as nights when we go down too late like say, 10pm and a gaggle of giggly yuppies fresh from college or law school students come in. You can tell by their outfits, usually. And for this post, let me focus on the giggly girls fresh from college.

They’re giggly. And there’s a gaggle of them. With their designer bags and a glass of cocktail in their hand they fleet from table to table air kissing friends. They seem to know everybody or have a friend in every table. They probably went to college, party, drink, together or whatever the case may be, the whole bar is a clique (minus us, the oldies).

One thing I noticed about them is that… NOT ONE OF THEM IS FAT! I’ll be damned if any of them is over 120lbs, heights ranging from 5’2 to 5’9″ most probably high heels included.

So they can wear skin-tight jeans, tank and or cropped tops, unforgiving polyester dresses and you will not see an iota of bulge,fat,stretch marks, cellulite or even a misplaced pimple. WHAT DID THESE KIDS DO? Was there something in the milk they were drinking that we didn’t have that made them this… (nearly) perfect?

I find myself envying them and how they carry themselves. They can walk without a problem (and some people can even dance and run) in 5 inch heels (which are very pretty, mind you). No matter how short their skirts are, they still manage not to flash anybody! And let’s not even talk about make-up coz for the life of me I can’t even put on lipstick without getting some on my teeth.

basically they all look something like this minus the coat and the knee high boots

And yeah, they’re all so pretty.

I know that they don’t represent the norm of the society. They’re just like 10% of their age group.

But they’re all so different from the girls I’m used to. (The hipster kids)

but 10 lbs heavier hehehe.

But at least the universe is fair. When I run into these kids in the restroom, I hear them puking in the stall next to mine and I laugh on the inside. I see them stumbling and barely able to walk in their 5 inch heels while severely drunk and I thank the gods I have enough sense in me to wear shoes I can walk in. So yeah they may have looked good when they walked in, but with their runny make up and the zombie walk – I look much better than they do (at least in my head I do).

And let’s not even talk about the “talking”. High-pitched conyo speak has the same effect on me as nails scratching on boards. Grating.

But I have friends who are these kids and I still love them to bits. And I love how they let me make fun of them :)

But I will never ever understanding how they can bring themselves to snort alcohol.

Thanks to the boob tube I’ve been recently obsessed with the prospect of living through Zombie Apocalypse.

Last night, watching the first episode of Walking Dead, there was this particular scene that made my skin crawl. The survivors, while gathering provisions in a highway full of abandoned cars (a graveyard, if you will have it) suddenly chances upon a throng of migrating zombies. A THRONG! MIGRATING! ZOMBIES! so they had to hide under cars while waiting for the last of the zombies to pass through.

Imagine yourself already stressed and wary from having to run away from a supposed safe place because the zombies were coming. You’re tired, low on supplies and rushing to go about your business before dark happens. And then you turn around for a second and you see hundreds and thousands (ok maybe just hundreds) of zombies coming towards you. And you don’t know what to do and where you can go. If you make a noise they will know you’re there. They can smell you. THERE’S ABSOLUTELY NOTHING YOU CAN DO!! How do you hope to fight a huge group of rotting, flesh eaters? They’re fast. They don’t tire. They don’t feel pain (So fighting against them while they try to overpower you is no use, really) and a single bite or scratch can turn you into one of them. And one thing that can make it worse is if you see a familiar face amongst them (your dad, your best friend, your boyfriend – how are you supposed to shoot that? if it’s your boss or your ex, ok then shoot away!).

Imagine that wherever you go, you will be in this situation at any time, any day. And what if these zombies were the “28 Days Later” kind? They don’t just groan towards you, they run! And they’re mad! One day you will run out of gasoline for your vehicle, bullets for your gun, and your blade will go blunt. You will run out of hope, you will run out of strength and reason to fight.

There will be nothing else you can do but just run towards them and die. If you can’t beat them, join them, right?

Actually this post has no point. I’m just scared shitless of zombies. I’m on my feet (well truth is, I’m on my ass) all day thinking of things I have to do to prepare should Zombie Apocalypse hit us soon (2012 – end of the world… as we know it! perfect time for those zombies to show up, eh?)!

So I made a list of things that I think will help me survive Zombie Apocalypse (thanks to TV shows,books (may be about Armageddon, Rapture, whatever) my crazy friends, and a lot of paranoia):

1. Put metal railings on the windows – so even if they smash the glass windows into pieces, they still can’t get into the house.
2. Fortify the gates – make it higher, stronger, and remove all means of climbing over it.
3. Buy a hardcore 4×4 Land Rover – complete with 10 extra tires, GPS, solar powered phones
4. Buy a gasoline station franchise – so I never run out of gasoline (at least for the first few years of the apocalypse). I have to place this branch in a remote location, just have one pump, and make it look abandoned and empty so nobody uses it aside from me and my family (and friends if they’re alive)
5. Raid an artillery/Befriend a black market gun dealer – and load up on bullets, all sorts of guns, bazookas, grenades, flame throwers, anything that can help me kill those brain chompers!
6. Learn Wushu – so at least I can fight with swords, knives, scarves, curtains, whatever when I run out of fire power. I should befriend Jackie Chan, maybe he can help me fight with frying pans!
7. Buy a franchise of SM Hypermart or Pure Gold – and keep it closed. So all provisions are just mine, for my family (and friends, if they’re alive). I’ll put these branches in strategic locations in case I’m forced to be on the road.
8. Buy a bike – because sooner or later I’ll run out of gas but I need to be in a move so a bike it is. A solar powered car will do but what will I do if along with the Zombie Apocalypse, the sun burns out?
9. Do Cardio – yeah I watched Zombieland.
10. Cover our house, my car with pieces of rotting flesh – so at least they’ll think it’s just one of them and move away.
11. Never travel with old people – coz I will not be able to bring myself to leave them even if it means dying myself. (same thing with dogs – hello I am Legend)
12. Befriend a doctor and a soldier – coz at least one can fight and the other can treat the wounded.

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)

New server, new hosting, hopefully new drive.

So let’s start with a story.

The other day I experienced my first encounter with a perv. He was sitting across me in the shuttle I ride everyday to work. Looking harmless and docile I think is their MO. Me, I was wearing a skirt that was up to my knees and a shirt that made me look butch. So I don’t quite understand why I was his victim of choice. As usual, the 1 and 1/2 hour trip to work was spent mostly asleep, jostled back to daylight every now and then by brakes, sliding in between trucks and cars by a driver that clearly has a complex.

And that’s how I saw the guy in front of me slide his phone beneath his bag, between his legs, and the camera light on his phone go off. Of course I knew what he was doing already. Sucks to be him, I was a certified manang and was wearing cycling shorts underneath my skirt. Bad for the fashionista wannabe but a must for every girl who spends half of her lifetime on board this country’s public transportation system. And for the life me, I don’t know how he thought he had anything to see. My knees  were locked together, and my legs tucked under the seat keeping any crotch views down pretty low and impossible to see.

But despite the fact that he was unable to get any worthy shots, I still felt violated (I’m only saying and admitting this to myself now because yesterday I was being the feisty bitch who was vindicated). I got off at his stop, clearly intent on confronting him. I would’ve confronted him in the shuttle but I was too chicken to make a scene (yesterday, my excuse was the slim chance I could’ve been wrong).

So I did confront him. Voice clear, eyebrows high, and venom in every word. And I called him out on his being a pathetic pervert. And man that felt good. He was vehemently denying the incident, but I knew he was guilty. His defensiveness dripped of guilt. And I knew that he didn’t count on being caught, much less confronted about it. And I felt powerful that time. I didn’t let him get away with what he did. And to me at that time, that was the most important.

But 24 hours later, it doesn’t feel enough. I should’ve slapped him. Told somebody. Warned the other ladies in the shuttle about the bastard. But I got scared. I still felt small and insignificant to do something that really mattered. All I did to get back at him and put him in his rightful place were mere words that for all I know, bounced off him like a tennis ball on concrete wall.

And I still feel violated. And I hate him for making me feel like this. For making me feel unsafe. For making me stereotype men who fit his profile.

I know it wasn’t my fault (contrary to what the older generation keep on saying about women, how they act and what they wear). I wasn’t responsible for other people’s decency. It wasn’t my fault that there are people out there who don’t know how to respect their peers, much less people who are strangers to them. But it was my fault (I think) that I couldn’t protect myself against these people.

So what do I do now? How do I stop making myself vulnerable to this kind of abuse?

Next time I see this guy, I will make sure he has a bad day.

Currently on a quest to get inspired. So many projects that I want to do, absolutely no idea how to get started.

So I’m just gonna settle for inspiration… For now.

inception map, lines and colors, doodle, cats, and little shadow of horror.

So now I’m taking fashion advise from a 15 year old blogger who probably has more money than my entire annual salary since I started working 6 years ago. Has traveled to New York and Poland (and probably more countries – I’m only at the 2nd page) and is extremely pretty in a Chinese kind of way. She has pretty cool taste and she lives in HongKong (my dream city of residence aside from NY, SanFo, Amsterdam, and London). I think the only posts I don’t like are those where she’s wearing tights as pants. Did I mention she’s just 15??? IKAW NA!

Going through her posts while I’m eating pistachio macarons and wondering why the world is unbelievably unfair… and also why I dressed like shit when I was 15.  Kamusta naman?

Decided to be a bit more visual with this year’s wishlist since I went all out anyway haha. This isn’t complete yet but I’m posting what I’ve done to give you, my lovely readers (as if I have any), a head start.

click the images for their full size.

now this is the part where you jot down ideas for my gift and ponder when/where/how to buy it. more of my wishlist in the second installation.

and now for the second installation:

i still have a 3rd installation but i’m too lazy to do it haha.