it has begun...
I never thought I'd see the day.
I just mailed in my first job application.
After all that waiting, I'm nearly there.
Dang.
So here I am, browsing all sorts of jobs that I could possibly get myself into. And the more I look at it, the more I realize one thing:
Put me behind a desk and I will wither and die. It's not that I'm picky or that I don't like desk jobs. But I need to be outdoors. I need to talk to people and connect with them. I don't think I can stand being boxed in and made to conform to a routine. Heck, I've been doing it all my life.
Some changes are long overdue, methinks.
But of course, reality sets in and you realize, one can only be so lucky to find a job like that
AND get paid. So, until then I can only hope. That's the best we can do.
At least for now.
Lost In Transcription
I should be working... But I'm not. Go figure.
Why not?
I dunno.
Tired? Maybe.
Mental block? Perhaps.
Tamad? Definitely.
I can't get over the slump. I should have finished the transcription of 8 two-hour tapes. But I've only gone as far as 4. I keep staring at those remaining 4 tapes but I just can't bring myself to touch, much less transcribe them. I
KNOW I should start working on it 'cause my sequence treatment is due this week but I can't. I'd GLADLY
pay someone to do it, but the thing is, no one really wants to transcribe 8 hours of footage even if you're getting paid...
Oh well... As I look at those 8mm cassettes, I cringe, I whimper... and then sigh...
Must. Get. To. Work.
Never Ceases to amaze (irk, irritate, infuriate) me
A few days ago, I was taking the jeep to school like I've always had. I saw this woman just about to get her change from the far she just paid. Midway through giving the change, the driver realized he overchanged her. So he took back 5 pesos thinking he was giving the girl 6 pesos in change when he just had to give her 1. What he didn't know and what I saw was that he mistook a 10 peso coin for 1 peso.
You know what the girl did?
She showed her friend the 10 peso coin, grinned, and then pocketed the money with nary a hint of guilt on her face.
Sheesh....
Whatever happened to common decency?
Bonfire of the Vanities
It just occurred to me how much time and effort women spend preening, priming and pretty-fying themselves almost the point of systematic torture.
Why do I say this?
Two words:
Hair Wax
It amazes me what some women would go through just so that people can call them normal.
Let's start with the head...
...scalding hot irons, a cornucopia of chemically-laden hair products... and why is it that in TV commercials, women with curly / wavy hair are the losers while the leading model always has long, straight hair...
how about hair...
...like I said before... hot wax. To some women, the act of pouring hot molten wax over your sensitive parts then applying a strip of cloth to literally
RIP off the hairs off your body is but
ROUTINE. Jeeeez!
... and don't even get me started on make-up...
Don't get me wrong, I like fixing up once in a while... But c'mon, something is off about this. I just heard on the news yesterday (a rare feat, seeing I hardly watch TV, read the paper or listen to the radio) that despite the poor economic situation the country finds itself in, women continue to spend more on beauty products and services. The survey showed that women spend more on these than on baby products and even less for savings.
A pretty interesting set of priorities, don't you think?
I'm all for a little glamour every now and then, but to do this as a habit.
Puh-leez...
As for my next wax session, I'd probably leave that to some kinky bedroom stint some time in the future...
Chocolate Preferences.
I don't like chocolates fresh out of the fridge. I like them real soft, almost like mush. The kind that you have to lick off your fingers in sweet savor...
I don't like nuts in my chocolates either. I just like them plain. Perhaps some caramel is allowed but that's it.
Dark semi-sweet chocolate's the
only chocolate. None of that sweet, milk chocolate-type crap. (Three Musketeers is the ONLY exception, though.)
Faded pictures
My mom shared some photos of her when she was a small kid. You probably know what I'm talking about... those snapshots that have faded into that warm tone of sepia.
Call me a hopeless sentimentalist but i love looking through old photographs. The onle thing I love more than that is reading the commentaries handwritten on the margins. By looking at those old photos, I've made some discoveries, namely:
1. Old people used to be small kids. (I always thought they just appeared out of some primevial ooze as is.)
2. People seemed to be prettier and more dashing back in the 50s. Brighter smiles, prettier hair, neater looks... (Is it the film? Or were people then just empirically better looking than people are now?)
3. A little commentary goes a long way. (Just realized my lola was a pretty witty gal! She called my mom a porcupine head...)
4. Pictures really
are treasures.
That said, I hope years from now, in the era of 3D holographic projection, kids who'll look at our pictures will think the same way. Although I'd probably hear them though make comments like, "
Yuck, lola, you actually had to PRINT your pictures?"
A Major Breakthrough...
This 8:30 in the morning I went to school to find a notice announcing that a class was not to meet. I freaked out, complaining that I had nothing to do till 1 PM. I ranted and ranted and probably scared a few underclassmen in the process.
Stormed out of the building in a huff, trying to decide how to spend 4 and a half hours of free time. In mid-stride of my indignant march, I realized the notice was dated for
yesterday and that the class in mention was
NOT the class I had for the day...
Amazing...
Saying the G-word
Today was a day of goodbyes.
My tita in Oregon, who had come home for the holidays after 10 years since she last visited, is going back to the States tomorrow morning. I hugged her so tight and wished she didn't have to go.
Exactly a year ago to this day, an uncle of mine passed away unexpectedly. He died in his sleep. His children said goodnight to him the night before and woke up to find they had lost their dad.
You can never tell when you'll be saying goodbye to someone for the last time, which is why i don't say goodbye anymore. I just tell them
I'll be seeing them soon. I know it's overly dramatic, but saying goodbye just puts a
finality to things that I suppose I'm not up to just yet.
That said, I'm through with morose thoughts.
For now.
silly...
ever noticed how some ads for a
mananahi (i.e. a person who operates a sewing machine) reads as:
WANTED:
SEWER
preferably with experience
Just getting started on this blog thingie. Thought I'd give it a try. Don't know how often I'll get to post seeing i'm just about to
REALLY get started on my documentary thesis.
In fact, maybe I will post some stuff on how the project's shaping up. and whether the chances of me finally finishing college are either likely or not...
cross your fingers, folks...
... and your toes, and your eyes as well....
