My cousin Iris would be staying with us for a little while. A big problem sprouted again on my Lola's haus. And it now involves my lolo and Iris.

You see, my lolo has alzheimer's disease. Its not that bad when he drinks his medicine... but when my lola stayed with us in the apartment, my auntie forgot to give him his medicines for three days. And so now, his alzheimer's got worse.

Lolo confronted Iris one day when they were both down in the rec room. He accused Iris of having an affair with my lola. He told Iris to get out of the haus or else he would call the police.

I guess that's what Alzheimer's do to u... make u forget reality and come up with a reality of ur own... or something.

Anyway, the only solution to the problem is that Iris would have to stay with us for a while... until lolo finally wake up from his reality... or until his alzheimer's clear up, or whatever.

I'm scared to grow old... now that we have a history of alzheimer's in our family, there is the possibility that it would pass on to us... and I don't want that to happen...

(0) comments

got a new toy. and its not what you think, you dirty minds! its a webcam! yey! my uncle bought it for me just today, and i can take pictures and videos with it.

isn't life grand?! :-)

(0) comments

I'm sorry. I really am.

I guess, up until now, I still don't know how much you do love me. I mean, sure I hear you say over and over again on the phone how much you love me and how much you wanted to marry me... and that when I go back to the Philippines, we'll get married ryt away...

But hearing those words seemed never enough for me... I don't know. I guess I haven't forgotten yet. Or maybe I want to forget, yet my subconsious stored that memory deep inside, and once in a while I remember... and it still hurts...

Does that mean that I haven't forgiven you yet? Coz they say to forgive is to forget. But damn, I can't seem to forget. It was my first heartache, and I guess the wound, alhough not fresh, still acts up once in a while...

I don't know what's wrong with me... didn't Jeff say you had forgotten her? What else proof do I need?

But tonight, when you called me, very much pissed because you thought I forgot my promise that I'd call, I woke up from my seemingly endless self-pity.

I heard in your voice the fear of losing me. I heard the uncertainty when you asked me if I still love you. I felt how frightened you are when you made me promise never to leave you...

You told me to please keep my promises... if I say I would call, then please do call, you say... coz ur waiting... and when I don't call, you say you fear that I might have forgotten u already.

Our roles had been reversed...

Wasn't it only yesterday when I had that same uncertainty... that same doubt that you might not stay... that u might leave me?

Wasn't it only yesterday when I had that same desperation to hear your voice, to see you?

I should be happy about it, ryt? But I'm not. Coz I know love is based on trust. But it seemed the trust between us hangs on a thin rope.

And damn, I don't know what to do about it.

(0) comments

* * *

I feel like a twelve-year old once again...

hay. but its a nice feeling.

I saw Duran at work. He smiled at me. I smiled at him. He said hello.

I wanted to shout to the world.

I wanted to melt right then and there.

I couldn't stop smiling, and grinning like a fool.

I'm pathetic.

(0) comments

You know, there's one thing I've realized about work...

Once you get too attached to your residents, it would really hurt when something happens to them... which is inevitable since they're too old, and as they all say, maybe just waiting to die.

Earlier this morning, I was really looking forward to going to work, coz I wanted to see some of the patients I had grown fond of... and Harry holds first place in my affection. Even though he cannot speak, I can understand him fully although all he does is groan and grunt in my direction.

Anyway, usually, every morning when I come to the dining area I'd find him sitting in his usual place, waiting for his breakfast. When I come in, I would say good morning to him and he would wave at me.

Then I'll go get his coffee. And tell him he's spoiled.

That's our routine.

But this morning, I didn't see Harry in his usual place.

And I was worried...

I guess, one thing about nursing homes is that there is always the chance that you won't see one of your residents again...

All kinds of horrible thought passed through my mind. What happened to Harry? Why isn't he sitting in his chair? He never missed one day of being in the dining area every morning before?! What if....? No, I said to myself, I don't want to finish that sentence

Thankfully, before I had gone out of my mind with worry, at eight am, an hour late for Harry, he came walking slowly with his cane.

When I saw him, all my worries disappeared, I breathed a sigh of relief and thanked God for seeing him one more day.

(0) comments

met new friends! they invited me and my brother to their haus... we'll go swimming on thursday...

m so glad!

(0) comments

I swear I really love my work now. I mean, my supervisor finally made me say yes to her incessant question of if I could work overtime, and I did! And I didn't even complain.

I don't know why... although I was really sleepy and my feet hurts so bad, I was having fun at work.

Maybe because some of the residents said nice things about me:

old lady 1: ur a nice girl...
me: thank you, i think ur nice too...

old lady 2: u are so beautiful (I swear she said this!)
me: who me?
old lady 2:yes, you are gorgeous...
me: thanks... u r beautiful too
old lady 2: and u dress nicely too ( she said this even though I'm wearing a filthy shirt - all the dirt from washing the dishes clings to my shirt)

hehe. I am a sucker for compliments! I am so vain! haha

(0) comments

Oh man, this has been one hell of a day!

It all started last night, when I tossed and turned in my bed, trying to catch that much-needed sleep. My eyes closed at their own free will, but my mind was wandering else where, eluding eight hours of peaceful slumber. And when at last my brain got tired of its restless roaming, it was almost two am and I had to get up at 5:15.

Although my warm bed beckoned me back to its cradle, I dragged my still sleepy ass into the bathroom and took a cold shower to wake me up. The full blast of water made my eyes almost pop out of their sockets. That cold shower sure did the trick. I was wide awake and rearing to go to work by the time I got dressed.

I was excited to go to work coz I thought at least I'd see Duran. But what do you know, Saturday is his day off. Ugh. I should've known!

Back at the dining area, I tried to keep a cheerful face for the residents. I was even joking with one of the patients named Harry. Here's how he broke my heart.

me: good morning Harry!

Harry replied with a few grunts. I can't make out what he said but I assumed he said good morning right back.

me: do you want some coffee Harry?

Again he replied with a grunt. I took that as a yes.

I made him a cup of coffee. As I was about to give it to him, my supervisor, Dan came along and gave Harry some cookies.

me: Oh Harry! Look what Dan brought you! Can I have some?
Harry: No! No!
me: Oh c'mon, I'll give you this coffee if you give me one cokie
Harry: No! No!
me: Okay fine. I won't get your cookies if you don't want me to... how about if we go out tonight, do you want that? - this said while winking at Dan.
Harry: No! No! (then laughs so hard)
me: Harry! You're hurting my feelings by refusing me!

See, even an 80-year old man won't go out with me!

That's not the worse of it. The nurses were really so cranky that morning. It seemed that a lot of their fellow nurses were absent or late from work, and only a few handled a roomfull of patients. Needless to say, they were all tired and snapping at each other.

There's even one Filipina nurse with an attitude. To think, she's a Filipina like me she'd at least smile and say hello. But no, she snubbed me! Can you believe that? That really got my ire! Who does she think she is? Just because she's a nurse and earning much more than me, a lowly food service worker, she thought she had a right to snub me! Duh!

You know what I did? I snubbed her right back. Huh. She'd take what she gave!

Anyway, she did talk to me. Asked me if I still go to school. I said no, I had finished college.

nurse: really? what did u take up?
me: journalism.
nurse: then what are u doing here?
me: same thing as you, earning money.

duh?!

I really hate it when some people think they're much better off just because they have much better jobs. I really hate those type of people looking down their noses on little people!

Anyway, that was not all. Work was really tiring. Bosses were all cranky. One boss even asked me if I could stay and work overtime. I said no. I haven't had much sleep, and I just want to crawl on my bed and sleep in sheer bliss. She kept asking and asking, until I just want to snap at her for being so pesky. Of course I didn't. She's still my boss, after all. But maybe after a hundred shakes of the head she finally got the picture and left me alone.

And when 3 pm came, I had to hitch a ride home coz my family went to some Filipino fiesta they were invited to right here in North Jersey. Yes, they went without me. Oh well.

One hell of a day huh?

(0) comments

You know, now that I've come to think of it, I really owe a lot to my parents. They gave me everything I want. They gave me good education. They gave me roots.

And now they're giving me the wings.

At their own expense.

They didn't have to come here with me and Vincent (my bro) in America. If they so wanted, they could just have chosen to stay in the Philippines.

They have already established a good life out there. My father was promoted as Vice President In the Philippine National Bank. My mom was a high school teacher for almost thirty years. We have various businesses that bring loads of money.

So what are they doing here with us in America, where they have to start all over again?

It's because of me and Vinent.

They know that the Philippine economy is hopeless. They know that my brother and I wouldn't find jobs good enough to pay all the bills.

Millions of Filipinos are either umemployed or underemployed. Every year, universities spew out fresh graduates, all looking for jobs. As it is, a lot of my classmates are either unemployed or employed to companies not related to the degree they took.

I don't know if I consider myself lucky in terms of at least, hopefully finding better paying jobs than them... coz I'm still starting at the bottom, and right now I don't feel lucky...

But one thing's for sure, I know that I am lucky to have parents like my mom and dad... coz they turned their backs on what they had already established in the Philippines - a good life. I am lucky because they gladly started at the bottom again just for me and Vincent. They didn't have to go with us here. But they did. I am one heck of a lucky child.

(0) comments

Have you ever wondered where the direction of your life might be leading? I have often wondered about that. And I have often wondered if I am going to the right road. I am not talking about the eight fold path and doing good deeds and all those balderdash they teach us in our religion.

I am talking about making the right decisions in life. I am talking about how those decisions could affect the course of your existence. I am talking about the lessons learned and if, in the long run, that they may be worth all that you’ve gone through.

I remember one email forwarded to me by a friend, titled Being Twenty Something. Reading that essay touched a cord deep inside me. It had become somewhat an epitome of all that I’m feeling within. Let me share this essay with you:

Being Twenty Something

They call it the "Quarterlife Crisis." It is when you stop going along
with
the crowd and start realizing that there are a lot of things about
yourself
that you didn't know and may not like. You start feeling insecure and
wonder where you will be in a year or two, but then get scared because
you
barely
know where you are now.

You start realizing that people are selfish and that, maybe, those
friends
that you thought you were so close to aren't exactly the greatest people
you have ever met and the people you have lost touch with are some of
the
most
important ones. What you do not realize is that they are realizing that
too
and are not really cold or catty or mean or insincere, but that they are
as
confused as you.

You look at your job. It is not even close to what you thought you would
be
doing or maybe you are looking for one and realizing that you are going
to
have to start at the bottom and are scared.


You miss the comforts of college, of groups, of socializing with the
same
people on a constant basis. But then you realize that maybe they weren't
so
great after all. You are beginning to understand yourself and what you
want
and do not want.

Your opinions have gotten stronger. You see what others are doing and
find
yourself judging a bit more than usual because suddenly you realize that
you have certain boundaries in your life and add things to your list of
what
is
acceptable and what is not.


You are insecure and then secure. You laugh and cry with the greatest
force
of your life. You feel alone and scared and confused. Suddenly change is
the enemy and you try and cling on to the past with dear life but soon
realize
that the past is drifting further and further away and there is nothing
to
do but stay where you are or move forward.

You get your heart broken and wonder how someone you loved could do such
damage to you or you lay in bed and wonder why you can't meet anyone
decent
enough to get to know better. You love someone but maybe love someone
else
too and cannot figure out why you are doing this because you are not a
bad
person.


You worry about loans and money and the future and making a life for
yourself and while winning the race would be great, right now you'd just
like to be a contender!


What you may not realize is that everyone reading this relates to it. We are
in our best of times and our worst of times, trying as hard as we can to
figure this whole thing out.

There is also one song that encompasses the uncertainty I had been feeling lately:

Do you know where you’re going to? Do you like the things that life is showing you? Where are you going to? Do you know? Do you get what you’re hoping for? When you look inside you there’s no open door, what are you hoping for. Do you know?

They say there is such a thing as midlife crisis. I say, being twenty, old enough to know what you want, but young enough to be scared of what life has to offer, is enough crisis for one lifetime.

(0) comments

I'm reading The Client by John Grisham, and I must say its a good book. No wonder it was such a big hit to readers. And no wonder my friend Naya likes the works of Grisham. He's a great writer. He is one of Naya's favorite authors.

Speaking of Naya, I wonder whatever happened to her. After our college graduation, I haven't had any contact with her of some sort. I know she is probably going to law school somewhere in Baguio. Oh well, I really hope I'd hear from her soon. I miss her.

(0) comments

Family problems seem to be sprouting from out of nowhere lately.

Last night, I was happily surfing on the net when the doorbell rang on our small apartment. I was a little surprised to see my grandmother standing outside carrying a few bags. I hid my shock from her and happily ushered her inside.

Now, don't get me wrong. I love my grandma, but it was rather unusual seeing her at 11 pm. I thought to myself that this is no social visit, seeing those bags she was carrying.

I asked my brother what was wrong, since he and my parents were the one who fetched my grandma and brought her in our apartment. Apparently, grandma and my Auntie Del had a big row that led to a shouting match, which led to Grandma packing her bags and walking out of her house.

Oh well, I figured we are just like any family, with fights breaking out of nowhere. I guess we're normal.

(0) comments

i was watching the news on TFC (the Filipino Chanel) when this thought suddenly hit me:

i have no life. absolutely no life.

I swear it's true. I have no friends here. I left them all back home. Ugh. I'm pathetic. There is only one word to describe my non-existent life: BORING!!!

I swear, I do not have life beyond this computer. I only come alive when I'm in front of this PC, writing my thoughts, chatting with friends and reading my emails. BUt even that has to end sometime, when my eyes start to hurt, my head starts to pound and my brother starts to nag me about my use of the internet.

Maybe these things take time, huh? I mean, I've only been here for less than three months, how do I expect to gain new friends here ryt?

Okay, maybe after a year, I'd be well-adjusted by then. I really hope so.

(0) comments

I had a nice and interesting chat with an old friend from the Philippines last Monday.

Actually, I was surprised with the turn our conversation took.

I never have thought, that, of all people, I'd be discussing my lovelife with him, and vice versa.

Here's a preview of what we talked about:
me: do u think i'm a martyr?
jeff: what do u mean?
me: I mean, if u were in my place, would u have taken him back knowing what u know?
jeff: maybe that's how love really works...

hmmm... maybe ur ryt Jeffy. But u didn't answer my question. Was I a martyr?

about my insecurity....
me: can I tell u something, but promise u won't tell him?
jeff: what is it?
me: i'm afraid to come back only to realize that SHE has entered the picture again
jeff: she won't
me:how do u know that?
jeff: coz I won't let him
me: why?
jeff: coz even though she's my friend, SHE has bad attitiudes I don't like
me: hmm..
jeff: and I like U better for him
wow! thanks Jeffy for the vote of confidence! I don't know if I deserve it but thanks anyway.

here's more:
me: u know how blinded he is when it comes to HER
Jeff: uh-uh, not anymore
me:really?
yey! does that mean he's finally over her?

(0) comments

for the month of augustAugust 2, 2003
7:45pm

I started working for Camden County Hospital last Tuesday. The work has its ups and downs. Basically, all I do is set up a cart with condiments, plates, glasses, silverware, fruits, some sandwiches and drinks. And then I would go to my assigned dining area for the day, set up and display all the things I got on the dining area. After that, a cook will give me trays of foods to serve and then when it is already 7:30am (breakfast) and 12pm (lunch) I will give them to the residents. Afterwards, I would clean up, go to the kitchen and wash the dishes. That’s my work. Nothing to do with my college diploma. I just kept thinking that I would have money at the end of the week that’s why I survive.

The perks of my work are the residents. Some are really outrageously funny. Most of them are old people (well, duh! It’s a nursing home). Most of them had already gone senile, they brought back their childhood with them. There is this old man named Harry, who drools down his front shirt, and likes coffee every morning. My supervisor teased him a lot, but all Harry could do was say ‘No! No!” anyway, you should see him. He’s really funny and adorable.

Then there is one old lady, I don’t know her name. She keeps saying, “Help me! Help me!” all the time. And when asked what was wrong she’s say, “I don’t know! Everything is wrong!” and then she would again call for help.

And there is another old lady who is so paranoid, she keeps cussing. When I was cleaning the tables, she was shouting at me, cursing me. and I would say, “What? I’m just cleaning up! I’m gonna wash your dishes for you, you know.” And she would still curse.

But really, old people can be funny sometimes. I’m beginning to like my work. I’m getting to see the side of growing old.

Sometimes, I’d get scared by what I see. I hope when I get older, my family wouldn’t put me in a nursing home......


August 10, 2003
3:58pm

PARTY AND DANCING

The whole Nicdao clan was invited to a graduation party last night. Rian, the son of the friend of grandma just finished his high school this year. He said he plans to take up nursing in college. Well, good for him. I hope he succeeds in his chosen career. As for me and my plans in going back to college and taking up nursing... I don’t know if I would go trough with the plan, now that I’ve already enrolled Paralegal Studies.

Anyway, the party was a little boring. I can’t seem to jive with my other cousins here, maybe because of the language barrier. I mean, I have to think really hard first before I’m going to say something. And believe me, that’s a bummer. I tried to liven up my time at the party by dancing. And yes, I had fun...a little bit...beats not doing anything.

Anyway, I told my relatives about my big crush on cutie supervisor Duran. When they found out he is black, they were like, eew. You should’ve seen their faces. It was so funny. They couldn’t believe I have a crush on some black guy.

Isn’t that discrimination? Just because he’s black doesn’t mean he’s not good enough. Not that I’m marrying him or anything. It’s just that, I gleaned from their reactions that a black isn’t good enough or something. Well duh that’s being a snob.


August 8, 2003
8:11pm

BEGINNING TO LIKE WORK

I’m beginning to like my work now. I know it might sound so childish...but you see, one of the reasons I’m starting to like my work now is because of one of my supervisor. His name is Duran. He is a black American. But then who cares? He is so damn cute! Pardon my profanity. But really, every time I see him, my heart just melts. He really makes my day. He is the reason why I wake up at dawn, and happily saunter to the hospital where I work.

I know these things I say sound so exaggerated but I gotta have an incentive. And in some way, seeing Duran, catching a glimpse of his smile, hearing him say hello is enough incentive for me to continue working without complaint no matter how hard it is.

Of course I have other reasons why I’m beginning to like work. For one, I get to practice my English oral communication. I mean, sure I write well in English. I could convey my feelings easily through written work. But I’m kinda’ hopeless in oral communication. It’s not the same as writing it down. But I’m learning and that’s good.

Another reason is that I’m establishing rapport with my younger co-workers, like Erin. He is Jamaican, I think. Anyway, he’s really funny and crazy. And he makes me laugh. He’s friendly. He’s kind. At least I’m beginning to form friendship of some sort here in the states.

Back to my big crush on Duran... I told my monologue man about it. I forgot that he is one heck of a jealous guy. Coz when I told him he really got so jealous. He told me things like I can forget him that easily. You know in some ways, he is the exact opposite of my ex. Coz my ex would understand easily. He would even tease me about my crush. I guess he can joke to me about it because he was secure in my love for him. that just shows to show how insecure my monologue man is. Oh well.

* * *

I told my monologue man about my enrollment in the program Paralegal Studies. He made me cry in his reaction. He told me to make up my mind on what I want to do with my life. He said he thought I would be taking up nursing. And then now, I went and enrolled myself in Paralegal Studies. He told me that if I change my mind so easily on those kinds of things, would I also have a change of heart regarding my lovelife? I felt that he doesn’t support me. But I guess I understand him because he’s really insecure. He’s afraid that I might just forget him easily and drop him when I see better opportunities for me. I understand how he could get insecure since we are really so far from each other. I get a little insecure too when I think of HER.

August 7, 2003
1:40pm

SCARED OUT OF MY WITS

I just enrolled for Paralegal Studies at Camden County Vocational School, and I’m scared out of my wits. My father sort of inadvertently enrolled me there. I was supposed to enroll at some computer program but computer courses are already closed so I was kinda’ forcefully enrolled in Paralegal Studies.

I’m scared because it is somewhat a writing class. And as you know, I don’t have that much confidence in my writing. I haven’t polished it off good back in my college days, no matter what my parents think.

Anyway, I’m gonna have a written assessment test later at 5 pm to see if I qualify for that course. I’m really somewhat terrified about this because I have no idea if I qualify.

Oh gosh. I figured this is my one and only chance to prove to the world the stuff I’m made of. I want to prove to my family, and most esp. to myself that I am good enough, that my writing is understandable enough to be involved in this course.

I know I’m gonna have a hard time. The program states that Students should be advised that this course involves substantial amounts of reading and writing. Whoa. Am I really qualified for this? I mean, sure I love reading. And sure I like writing. But am I good enough?

I really have a very low opinion of myself. It’s just that I’m scared of failing and disappointing my parents.

In the brochure, it states that one should have solid backgrounds in oral and written communication. I am good in the written part, but in the oral? Oh gosh. Did I tell you I’m afraid of being in the limelight? I have stage fright. I really hope this works out well for me.

Oh Lord, please help!

* * *

4:06pm

I’m going to VoTech now. I have never been so scared in my whole life. Thoughts of what if I fail? Keeps surging through my mind. What if indeed I do fail? What would I do then? And what if I passed? What about my plans of taking up nursing? Will I just abandon that? Will I just abandon my cousin when I kept her hopes up by saying I will be there with her, we will be working side by side, learning the intricacies of nursing. I promised her that we would make it together. But now, I am not keeping my promise, since I enrolled in Paralegal studies. Will she be angry with me then? So what am I going to do?

Should I tell her, my dad forced me to take up this course? And I had no say whatsoever about it? But that would be a lie. I want to take this program. My father just gave me the boost of confidence I badly needed. He didn’t force me. I like challenges. Yes, I am scared out of my wits right now. But you know what? I am also praying and hoping that I would pass the test. Because I want to try it. It is what I want.

(0) comments

for the month of july............

July 23, 2003
1:30pm

PRAGMATIC_DREAMER DEFINED I

This is my secret world. I am THE pragmatic dreamer. It is quite paradoxical I know. But if you were a smart guy, you would know exactly why I am a pragmatic dreamer. I am quite sensible, practical, rational and all the other synonyms of pragmatic. Yes. I am all that and more. But I am also an idealist, romantic, quixotic... I believe that the world is not black or white. I believe there are gray, blue, red, pink and yellow areas in between. That’s why I do not define myself as only pragmatic, or as only a dreamer. I am both that and more.

I am pragmatic. I know how to set limitations for myself. I know my strengths and weaknesses. I know if a dream is reachable or not. In terms of love, I have been burned badly before. I do not set great expectations on men. I am a cynic. I do not believe men could keep their promises. I do not believe a long-distance relationship could last forever. A lot of things could happen between now and forever. And I believe that forever is along time coming. I do not want to waste my time on farfetched promises. I believe in taking my life one-day at a time. I have already set plans for myself, plans for the future. Plans of what I want my life to be. Reasonable plans. Reachable plans.

I am a dreamer. I dream of a good life. I dream of a good man by my side. I am romantic. I read love stories. I have a copy of Chicken Soup for the Romantic Soul in my room. I read that everyday, not because I actually believe that true love could exist for me, but because I want to have a reminder that true love indeed exists, if not for me then for others. I am romantic because no matter how badly I had been burned my faith in men still exists, even if they are quite fictional – like in the love stories I read... I am a dreamer because I wish that I were not so pragmatic. Huh. Does that make sense? Figure it out.

These are just some of the reasons why I see myself as a pragmatic dreamer. Which of the two weighs the more I do not know. That’s for the reader to analyze...

July 23, 2003
9:20pm

OH TO BE YOUNG... AND A BELIEVER... AGAIN

Remember when you were a little girl and everything in your life seems to be perfect? When the simplest of things amount to one hundred percent pure bliss? When the music from the cart of the ice cream man would bring a smile on your face? When one scoop of that much desired ice cream, and you’re in heaven?

Remember that time when you had a fight with your sister, and in just a matter of minutes you are talking again, and you’ve completely forgotten what the fight is all about?

Remember when you believed in fairy tales and happily ever after? Remember when you believed in love and the magic of it? Remember that time?

I sure do. And how I wish I could backtrack time when I believed. How I wish simple things would give me the joy it once did. How I wish I haven’t woken up to the reality of life. How I wish life hasn’t turned me into a skeptic.

I don’t know what I am skeptical about esp. in terms of love. Hasn’t fate let me experience what love really meant? Hasn’t time taught me to be patient and let love ran its course. Hasn’t it taught me that love never really ran smooth, and that love is much sweeter after you had been burned?

But then again it’s all because of these that I have turned into a cynic. Love and time has also taught me not to believe in fairy tales anymore. They have taught me to face reality.

I remember one episode in Ally MacBeal when Georgia (one of the major characters) said something along these lines: parents should never have read their children happily ever after stories, they should never have made their children believe in Santa clause or Easter bunny or the tooth fairy, because when they grow up and find out all these are not true, they would only be disappointed.

Actually that was not the exact line but it was something like that. And I agree with Georgia.

I guess it would really take one heck of a man to make me a believer again. Maybe the monologue man is that man. Maybe.

July 24, 2003
11:53am

MY MONOLOGUE MAN

I called my monologue man last night. His voice made me remember bittersweet memories of that time not so long ago... back in college...when I thought I was the only one in his life. We reminisced of the good times...never the bad times. Because those bad times evoke memories we couldn’t bear to remember again. I don’t know why. Those difficult times made me stronger, and made me recognize many things about myself that I otherwise wouldn’t have known.

I, for one, just want to bury that past because I am scared of learning how much more impact SHE has on his life. I don’t want to hear him say once more in my ears: Is it my fault I had loved two women? I chose you didn’t I?

But since I opened up a can of worms by simply writing this journal, let me then open it all the way...

I remembered the first time it happened...so vividly, as if it was only yesterday and not almost a year now. I remembered him telling me that SHE contacted him and asked if SHE could talk to him. He said yes of course... I remembered him telling me reluctantly, after I learned of their secret meeting, that SHE told him when SHE found out he already has a girlfriend, that was when SHE realized how much SHE love him.

I can clearly recall the look of longing in his eyes when he told me this. His words said he couldn’t just leave me now that SHE beckons for him, but I saw in his eyes, and heard in his voice how much he wanted to go.

I can’t blame him. He had loved her for more than five years. He waited for HER to love him back. He never gave up, not until for the fifth and last time SHE told him he’s waiting for nothing. Then he met me. And maybe he thought he fell in-love with me. We’ve only known each other for five months when the bombshell exploded. Compared to five years of unrequited love, I figured five months was nothing. His friend Lemonchair told me to fight for him. But then, I figured I would only fight a losing battle. I was right.

And I did something my friends got pissed about. I let him go. At that time I know in my heart that was the right thing to do. I told him I wasn’t mad at him. I told him, in a teary voice, that his long wait is over. SHE finally learned to love him. And me? Well, I’m just gonna fade in the background then.... My so-called friends called me a martyr after that. I think they just don’t understand. I am not selfish. I loved him too much that was why I let him go to his happiness. It was not easy. When I am alone, the tears just wouldn’t stop falling. I couldn’t sleep because every time I close my eyes, I see his face and I realize what I had lost.

No matter what my friends say – that he is a jerk and a loser – I know better. I know he is a good man. A good man just caught between a rock and a hard place.

And you know the one thing I have realized about myself is this: I have learned and experience what rue love is all about. I know that to let him go would bring me pain. I know that to let him go I might have forfeited my chance of ever being loved. I know that to let him go, I would have to spend a lifetime of hopelessness. But I let him go. Why? Because I love him. I had understood, at an early stage in my life, that a lover does not hold the object of his love hostage to his possessive grasp.

And you know what? I had also learned the value of patience. See? If I had not let him go so easily, then he wouldn’t have come back willingly in my arms. He chose to come back to me. I didn’t force him. He came back to me.

But there is only one catch. I know he still loves her. And I know he loves me too. That’s why I sometimes get a little, okay fine, I admit, a lot insecure every time I learn he still has contact with her. But I can hardly complain since I know they’ve been friends much longer than we had been.

I guess you cannot get rid of that insecurity in me that easily. But thankfully, I had learned to live with it, by not digging up the past. I now buried the hatchet. I just hope it wouldn’t rise to the living again...

July 24, 2003
3:56pm

REDISCOVERING THE JOY OF WRITING

I had a curious conversation with my grandmother and auntie last Tuesday, and I just remembered it now.
I was telling them of my plans to take up nursing here in New Jersey. They were a little surprised, but they were very supportive saying since I am still young anyway, I could do whatever I want. Then my grandmother asked me: Why did you take up journalism anyway? And my auntie butted in, yeah, you wouldn’t find work in the Philippines anyway with that kind of major. Then my grandmother said, yeah, if you took up nursing you wouldn’t have to study far from home. I just told them that at that time I never thought we would be going to USA in the near future. I told them that if I had known I would’ve taken up nursing back then in a jiffy...But you know that was just a cock and bull story. If I tell them the real reason they wouldn’t understand me anyway.

Why did I take up journalism? The truth this time? Well, it is because I love reading books. And through that passion sprouted in me another passion... I wanted to write my own book. I want to create a story of my own. That is why I applied at the top two journalism Universities in the Philippines, and ended up in my alma mater the University of Santo Tomas. Writing was then a passion. And when I discovered what journalists do in real life, it made me love my major further more. In nursing, you would be focused only on one field – that is the intricacies of medicine. But with journalism, you would know a lot on different fields – humanities, medicine, events, history, and real life. And I loved that. And about the comment of my grandmother of studying far from home, well, I would never exchange that experience with anything. I saw real life and real people in Manila. I learned a lot from city living. I met my friends. I met my monologue man. Now, if I stayed in Pampanga, what would have happened to me? That I wouldn’t know.

Now, I’m really glad my auntie gave me this computer. Now I couldn’t stop writing my thoughts. I felt alive again. I have rediscovered once again the joy writing gives me. This is the only place where I can let it all out, my real feelings, the real me, the pragmatic dreamer.

July 25, 2003
4:49pm

PRAGMATIC_DREAMER IS NOT A QUITTER

Now, I’m no quitter okay but I do have some reservations about my upcoming new work. Can you guess where it is? In the kitchen of a nursing home... yeah I know. I was thinking earlier while I was having an orientation about my new work: what am I doing in this kitchen when I have a journalism diploma? Yeah, what indeed? I don’t know. I came to America searching for a good life. And I landed on a kitchen. Hurray.

But like I said in my first sentence, I am no quitter. I know I have to start low to go up high. It’s gonna be hard work. But I will always keep what my mother always tells us. That u should never quit while you are on the lowest of the low. Just climb your way to the top through hard work and perseverance. And that’s what I’m gonna do. I promise myself before we went here in the US that I am never gonna complain. Nope. They won’t hear a word of protest from my mouth. I know I can make it big someday. I know in my heart that I am gonna make it

My mother taught me good, and I’m not going to let her down by quitting this early in the game.

* * *

Anyway, you know writing in English is much better than saying or hearing it. I had a slightly hard time talking to my co-workers earlier. They spoke really fast. And I was always saying to them – What? I didn’t understand them the first time they say something. I need a lot of practice. Oh heck. I’ve only been here less than two months. I figured I’d have the rest of my life to practice. That’s a lot of time.

July 26, 2003
10:50pm

DREAMING OF WORLD PEACE

I put on the Filipino Channel mode on my television, and guess what I see? My homeland is in shambles, or at least it is about to be in shambles. There is an attempted coup d’etat back in my homeland. I don’t know the whole story but from what I heard from the news so far, it seems some 200 military men from the Armed Forces of the Philippines (AFP) are attempting to overthrow the Arroyo government. It seems that they had planted bombs at the Makati area.

The atmosphere is really very tense. It’s scary to be in Manila right now. My monologue man is out there, in the heart of the coup, covering the whole situation. My brave, brave man. He must be excited right now to be covering such important news. For sure, his stories would be placed in the front page of his newspaper. It would be the banner story. What a scoop for his career!

You know sometimes, I wish I had the same passion for writing as he has. Then maybe, I would have worked in some newspaper, covering such important news. But I don’t. I honestly don’t know if I would have that kind of passion in writing. I like it. But it’s not a passion.

But then again, as it always happens when I’m writing, I always veer away from the main topic at hand. See, that’s what’s wrong with my writing. I have so many ideas in my head that when I put them down in paper, the ideas just spread out all over. There is no direction. I really need more practice on this.

So anyway, as I was saying in my lead paragraph, my place, my native land, is in deep mess right now. I only hope those 200 revolutionary men aren’t bomb-happy. I mean, the Makati area is the thriving place of our economy. It would really be a big blow (literally and figuratively) if those bombs went off.

I was watching the interview of some media people on the leader of the attempted coup. Media asked what he wants to accomplish by his actions. He said he wants Arroyo to step down from the government. Why? Because, apparently, he accuses Arroyo of being responsible for the Davao bombing some time this year. He said he was only protecting the Filipinos against such terrorist actions of the presidency. Okay. Now, that we’ve established that, the media said, have you had a proper forum with the proper authorities about this? Have you talked to the government about this? Would you like to talk to them? His answer? NO. A big NO.

I was thinking, my gosh, really, what does this man want to accomplish now? If only people learn to communicate effectively, in a peaceful manner, without resorting to guns and bombs, then maybe they would have resolved their differences easily. As now, the communication is only one way, if there is any at all. Both parties are threatening the other. At the cost of a whole nation. That’s a sick scenario, if you ask me. Why couldn’t they learn to listen to each other? Why do they have to close their ears? Why the heck can’t they compromise? What the hell is going on in the world today?

I was thinking what a relief it is that I am in the US now, safe from harm. But you know what, I must really love the Philippines, because no matter that I am thousands of miles away from home, I am still affected by what’s happening. I’m still anxious that things might go haywire there. It must be because my life is still there. My family, my friends, and my monologue man. Not to mention, my memories, my joy and my pain. I left them there. Now, I want them here with me, to keep them safe. I wish I could bring them here.


* * *


I went to a birthday party earlier. I was bored. I mean, honestly, I love my family and all, but I was wanting of the company of people of my own age, people I can really relate to. And boys, boys, boys. (forgive me monologue man, but that’s nothing serious, honestly)

There were boys, yes. But they are literally just boys. The 16-year old kind. That’s way too young, even for me. And besides, I dig older men. Mature men. Big men. harhar.

And besides, my little cousin keeps bugging me. Honestly, I am a nice person. But she was really getting into my skin. Irritating. Really irritating.

So anyway, while I was musing by myself, I was thinking I should continue reading good books. I promise myself when I have the money to spare that I am going to start a collection of books. Only good books mind you. Not those Harlequin or Mills and Boons. I outgrew those now. I’m now into mature books. Like the Harry Potter? haha. That was an exemption. Besides, the harry potter collection is real good. Very entertaining. Anyway, I was thinking that I want to enhance my knowledge and also my vocabulary. I want to be able to say high falluting words in one sentence. Makes me sound intelligent.

July 27, 2003
11:19am

THE BALLOON HAS DEFLATED OR HAS IT?

The attempted coup of some 200 military men has been shattered into a million bits. What was left are the bombs scattered all over Makati. And then, even those are being removed now. Arroyo sure deserves one big thumbs up.

But now that I’ve come to think of it...now that I have heard the grievances of these men, of what made them do what they did...I am left wondering if maybe they were right.

These some 200 men are still young, at the height of their career... in their mid-30s. What were they thinking about? One thing for sure. They are idealists. These are men who have been tired of witnessing corruption in their system. Maybe they thought: Before the system eats us, let’s get to them first and try to stop it. I actually applaud their idealism. They had strove to change the shady world they live in. They fought for what they believed to be one government of lies and terrorism. They traded their positions in the military to expose a whole can of worms. They shook up what little confidence the Filipino nation has left on the system of their government. They are heroes in my eyes.

Yes, heroes. I salute their passion. Of course, I do not condone the violence they were about to do. But I applaud the principles that led to their rebellion. I wish I had that same kind of passion... to fight for what you believe in no matter what the odds are. I wish I could just give up everything for principle. But I know I can’t. I am too much of a coward. I am too pragmatic, too sensible.

I only wish that the rebellion served as a wake up call to those in higher positions. I only hope they do something about the accusations. I only hope they answer to the grievances aired by these brave men. I only hope that this rebellion sizzles up to nothingness.

But the question still remains: Is there still hope in the Philippines? I do not believe that the balloon has deflated. I believe that the rebellion only swelled it up even more.


* * *

10:52pm

CAUGHT BETWEEN A ROCK AND A HARD PLACE

I know his pain. I can feel it as if it’s my own. I know his heart has shattered into a million pieces. I know his dreams had faded. I know the disappointment he’s feeling right now. But there’s nothing I can do about it. Because no matter how much hurt he is, I know he’s wrong. And they are right.

My father is such a headstrong man. He is much like those some 200 rebels. When he wants something he fights for it. Only sometimes he is too blinded by that dream that he doesn’t think of the consequences of his actions.

Right now, I know my father feels he is alone in his plight. But he is wrong. We are on his side. They are on his side. He just doesn’t realize it yet.

My father had been spoiled by his position in the bank he worked at in the Philippines. He had always gotten what he wanted because every person was at his beck and call. I guess right now, moving in a foreign country is quite a tremendous change for him. Back in the Philippines, he started at the bottom and worked his way at the top. People loved him there. He has power. He has money. Or at least people thought he has. For my father is such an extravagant man.

Now that we are in a foreign country, he is nothing here but just an ordinary person. No one knows him. And no one really cares of his position back in the Philippines. For them, he is just one lowly jobless-looking-for-a-job man. Just like the rest of America.

Now, his decision to buy an expensive car brought on negative remarks esp. that of his brother. And he hated that. He fell in-love instantly with that car. And besides, he can pay for it through his savings and my sister Lanie will give some of the money. My sister doesn’t approve of such an extravagant purchase. For her, that is a luxury we couldn’t afford right now. I don’t still have a steady job. My mom doesn’t have a steady job. My brother and my dad don’t have jobs at all. We barely make ends meet as it is. So how are we gonna pay the insurance and other things? My sister has a point. But my father doesn’t see it. Right now, he feels that the world has turned their back on him. He felt that my sister has turned her back on him.

And he is in pain right now. Emotionally.

Oh daddy, if only you would listen to them. Hear their point. And don’t think that they are plotting against you. Because they’re not. They love you that’s why they don’t want you to make the wrong decisions. Which, I guess you already did. Hay.

(0) comments