On Time

I don’t usually wear a watch as it makes me very uncomfortable. Save for those instances that it was presented to me in gift wrap, I never really had much use of this useful, little contraption. I pretty much rely on my handy dandy phone to keep me updated of the time.

So just imagine my agony yesterday morning when my phone’s battery suddenly went off while I’m waiting for a jeepney to work. Thirty minutes or so of waiting for a PUV with a vacant space was sheer torture, especially if you have no sense of time at all. Add another thirty minutes or so of being stuck in traffic almost took away my sanity. At that point I know I’m going to be late. No, I wasn’t worried about being reprimanded by my superiors. It’s just that I detest not beating the clock.

Filipino Time

I hate being late. Have I said it already? I simply hate it. And I abhor people who are always late. Especially those who are even PROUD of it.

Have you encountered such lowly beings? I sure know a few of them. Setting up a meeting time with those imps would be a futile effort as proven by these instances:

Mr. Punctuality: OK, so we will meet tomorrow at 7 AM. SHARP.

Mr. Tardiness: Alright. But I’ll probably arrive at 8 so don’t expect too much.

OR

Seven? I normally wake up at around that time. But yeah, sure! Seven!

OR

Sure thing! I’ll leave the house tomorrow at 7 AM. SHARP. *grins*

Know what’s irritating in those situations? It’s when those beings cheerfully proclaim to the world that punctuality is not in their dictionary. Like they deserve a medal of valor or something. Like it makes them cute. Fudge you.

No, I’m not being self-righteous here. As stated above, I’m not always Mr. Punctuality, but only on three kinds of situations:

1. I slept too much;

2. I don’t feel like going to my appointment and;

3. Friggin’ traffic jam.

*4. (Bonus) I know I would be dealing with Mr. /Ms. Tardiness (Baaad!)

Please, don’t blame it on Filipino Time. The sustained existence of this habit results from people’s conscious recollection of the deed. There is Filipino Time because people think that there IS Filipino Time. There are tardy people because they think that there WILL be tardy people.

Bato- bato sa langit ang tamaan wag magalit.

On Constipation

This reminds me of an article written by our high school paper’s editor-in-chief. Constipation – not that pesky digestive problem – is when nothing, nada, nil, not even an iota of idea or inspiration would emerge to push you to continue nor even start writing. In other words, writer’s block. For the past few weeks I’ve been straining every neuron in my brain to produce anything, just ANYTHING worth reading. Epic fail. Well, almost.

Is the world running out of interesting things to write about? Am being less observant?

They say one way to counter this problem is to write about it. So that’s exactly what I’m doing now. And it’s helping me, but not fully. I mean, how can I start writing if I am downright uninspired? Or am I just too idle initiate? I don’t know.

Two-Ball

And now for the real thing. Honestly, I have constipation – that pesky digestive problem. Again. Now what really causes this sh*t? It’s seriously giving me a HARD time.

Now I need fiber as much as I need inspiration.

Why I Would Never, Ever Cross A Footbridge Again

It was the last day of my OJT for this week. Thank you very much. I have all the eagerness in the world to go home today so I can have that well-deserved rest for tomorrow’s big day at school. All seemed well during the jeepney ride to Cubao, but for some twisted reason, our effin’ jeepney driver (Bless him) dropped us at the other side of Aurora Blvd, which meant my friend and I had to use one of those acrophobic, wild pink footbridges.

To avoid spattering rainwater on my pants, I cautiously walked my way across the wet, ill-illuminated overpass like a cat walking on a tightrope. I safely got thru. Yey. We immediately flagged down the first jeepney to Marikina that we saw and just when I was about hop on I noticed that my bag’s front pocket was open. Freaking out, I quickly scanned if my ancient phone and mp4 player were still present. Luckily, they were safely sitting there at the bottom. Sigh of relief. So feeling secured already, I groped for my pouch to get my fare. And I groped. And groped again. But the pouch wasn’t there. Aw, fudge. Now I’m dead.

Goodbye 1k. Goodbye memory cards (of my classmates. Ouch). Goodbye, movie tickets. Goodbye, BDO cash card. Good bye National Library card. Goodbye…

I’ve been often told my parents and peers that that particular pocket was not a safe place to put my valuables. But my stubbornness tells me otherwise.

On the positive side, I wasn’t harmed at all. That is something to be really thankful of. If I was robbed face-to-face I might have wet my pants. In addition, I get to follow my tight-fisted budgeting practices once more. It’s been a while since I last saved money, you see. Oh well, that's life.

Moral of the story: Don’t cross the EDSA-Aurora footbridge at night.

When You Live In A Haunted House…

In the spirit of Halloween, kwentuhang nakakatakot muna tayo.

Have you ever had any ghostly experiences? Like have you ever seen one? Feel one perhaps? I’m not afraid to admit that I am a big scaredy cat myself. When I was a kid (sometimes until now), the dark always frightens me. Whenever we have to pass through a dark street or go inside a dim-lit room, I walk as fast as I could or close eyes so tight as if their sealed with epoxy, afraid of whatever I might see – or what might see me – in the absence of light. Ironically, I love everything that is terrifying. I love listening to scary tales, watching horror films, reading ghost stories. I live for those things.

Luckily, I’ve never seen a ghost face to face. But I had a lot of close encounters, if you may call it. And it all happened here, right inside the walls of our house.

I cannot say that our dwelling is truly ‘haunted’. For one thing, it’s relatively new (only a few years older than me) to be one. However, it’s dead quiet most of the time. And as paranormal experts assert, hushed spots are favorite thriving spots of these eerie entities.

One afternoon, I was watching TV in my room with the doors left open. My grandmother, whose room stands adjacent to mine, went out to go to the bathroom at the end of the hallway. After a few minutes, I heard her bedroom door opened once more, and there she was again, walking in the hallway, heading towards the bathroom…

There was also one time when my cousins, my sister and I were sharing ghost stories in my room. I was about to tell a story about my aunt’s room when my sister suddenly butt in and exclaimed, “Ay oo sa kwarto ni Tita! Dati nasa kwarto ako ni kuya, ako lang mag-isa dito sa taas, tapos narinig ko yung monoblock na upuan ni Tita na gumagalaw, parang may humihila!”. That creeped me out big time. It was exactly the same story I’m about to tell them…

And just recently, we celebrated my grandmother’s brother’s 40^th day of departure to the living world. A short ‘padasal’ was held in our house but I did not even bother. That very night, I had a terrifying yet sad dream about my dead relatives (at least those whom I know). They were in a hospital, all in their deathbeds, crying, begging me for help…

In between are stories of my dead grandfather turning off the TV that was left turned on, of one of our dead relatives sitting comfortably on the sofa at midnight, of feeling a heavy weight pressed on my shoulders while sleeping, and of the infamous moth flying around our heads every November 1 and 19 (my grandfather’s death anniversary).

The weird thing is, during those moments that I experienced them, I didn’t feel scared like I thought I would be. Maybe because it really takes a while before something sinks in to me. Like my mind is just too slow or too tired to react and tell me, “Hey stupid, that’s a ghost!”

Forgive me guys for sharing this generic topic. You see, I grew up watching Are You Afraid of the Dark? and had always fancied the idea of a group of friends surrounding a bonfire, telling frightening tales to each other.

This is the new Midnight Society. Do you have any tale to share?

Extra Challenge

Busyness is next to haggardness, sabi nga ng kaibigan ko noong high school. Makailang ulit ko na ring nasabi dito sa blog na binabasa mo na sa loob ng ilang buwan ay mamartsa na sa entablado para kunin ang pinaka-mi-mithing diploma ang inyong abang lingkod. Sana lang po. Tiwala naman ako sa sarili ko na makakatapos ako, pero hindi ko lang talaga maiwasang mapraning, mangarag at magpaka-hilong talilong sa mga pinag-ga-gagawa (sana tama ang spelling) ko. Partikular na itong linggong ito. Halos hindi na naramdaman ang presensya ko sa blogosperyo dahil mismong pagtulog na ang isinisingit ko sa iskeydyul ko. Pero hindi naman lahat e paghihirap. Marami-rami rin akong natutunan sa mga nangyari sa akin nitong mga nakaraang araw. Sana lang ay tumimo at kumintal sila sa isipan ko ng mas matagal.

Enrolment

Puro pila, puro pila. Apat ang pila sa cashier. Dun ako humanay sa unang window. Nang mapansin kong mas mabilis ang pag-usad sa katabi kong pila, lakas-looob at garapalan akong umalis at nakisingit sa kaklase ko. Ang problema, ganun din ang ginawa ng iba. Oo nga’t mas mabilis ang kahera namin. Pero mas mabilis ang karma. Dahil pasimple ring nag-lipatan ang mga tao sa linyang siningitan ko, ayun, natubunan din ako. Naunahan pa akong magbayad ng kaklase kong nasa likuran ko sa unang linya.

Moral of the story: Always be faithful.

OJT

Huwebes ang itinakda kong araw ng pagha-hunting ng kumpanyang maaari akong mag-OJT. Miyerkules, iginugol ko ang buong gabi para sa paghahanda sa mga maaaring mangyari kinabukasan. Taimtim kong inaral at isinapuso ang mga dapat at hindi dapat gawin sa interbyu, pati na rin ang mga tanong na posibleng ibato sa akin. Binalak ko ring mag-review kung saka-sakaling biglang may itanong tungkol sa mga napag-aralan ko, pero tinamad ako. Sa kaba at pagod ko ay baka wala ring pumasok sa aking mumunting utak. “I can feel the pressure, it’s getting closer now…” sabi ng Paramore sa isip ko.

Kasama ang dalawa pang kaibigan, una naming pinuntahan kinaumagahan ang isang malaking ospital sa Quezon City (dahil sabi ni Jobstreet). Nangingig na inabot naming ang aming mga resume kay kuyang naka-blue at may braces at saka naghintay na tawagin para sa interbyu. Pero naghintay kami sa wala. Makalipas lang ang ilang minuto ay lumapit siya sa amin sabay sabing, “Kelan niyo pwedeng i-submit yung dalawang 1x1 picture, letter sa school na may pirma ng practicum adviser at X-ray?”

Nagtinginan kaming tatlo. Pasok na tayo? sabi ko sa isip ko. Walang effort.

Moral of the story: Believe in yourself. Wala lang.

Sa darating na Martes ay simula na ng bago kong pakikipag-sapalaran sa magulong mundo ng HR.

Badong Updated

The past two weeks have been totally different for me. And with the current flow of events, it seems that this divergence will continue on for a little while. For instance, I’ve been on idle mode doing blog-hopping or even logging in on Facebook (since some of my close friends are still gravely affected by the flooding that they have no time to go online at all). And add the case of the rotating blackouts in Metro Manila that causes me even more sleepless nights. But apparently, it’s just a phase, so they say. I’m slowly returning to my usual self again. For now, here are some quick updates sa buhay ni Badong:

Blackouts

Yes, not brownouts. One thing that I’ve learned finally is the difference between black out and brownout. I know for a fact that the former refers to total electricity outage (the one Filipinos fondly call ‘brownout’), but I never seem to know the latter’s exact definition. The case is it completely slips out of my mind once electricity recommences and I only remember it once there’s another case of brown, err, blackout. And two straight nights of complete darkness seemed to engrave the task of researching in my cranial region so now I am proud to announce that ignorance is not my best friend.

New Header

I’ve been thinking of changing my header for so long now but my friend Procrastination tells me to do it some other time. And so I didn’t object. So for a while, I let other bloggers think that my blog’s name is Sino Si Badong? rather than Bahay Ni Badong. And I actually received two awards and one nomination under that mistaken blog name. Shame. At least it didn’t make the recognitions invalid.

PBA 3

I shamelessly nominated some of my entries in the Top Ten Posts of the Year category of the third Philippine Blog Awards. Luckily, two of them qualified as finalists.

“To see my name in the lists of nominees alone is a great honor already.” – [put actor’s/actress’ name here.]

It’s actually true, those things you see and hear on TV. Before, I thought it was a tad hypocritical of those people to say that they are totally happy to not win an award. That being nominated alone is a feat to cherish already. Of course, who wouldn’t want some recognition? Who wouldn’t want to bag those trophies, those medals home with them? Are they serious?

And then being put in their own shoes makes me realize that yes, they are serious.

When I saw my posts in the list of finalists I felt sudden surge of euphoria ran thru my spine. My initial reaction was, ‘SERIOUSLY?!’ And it’s also somewhat true that once you see who you’re competing with, you wouldn’t really expect that you could win. Nakakatakot, I said to myself when I read some of the entries. All of them are so well written and some are in fact done by pro-bloggers. But, it would also make me a big hypocrite if I say that I did not hope that I could win. Optimism doesn’t hurt, you know. It attracts positive vibes, too, hehe.

But I did not win. But it’s totally OK. I admit it’s heart-breaking, as I said who wouldn’t want some recognition? But then again, it’s a start. A sign for me to do well, to do better. And it’s not about the recognitions anymore, but a task for self improvement.

By the way, another loads of thanks to Kuya Nebz of Isla de Nebz and Mar of Taympers for telling me that I am one of the finalists. I don’t visit the PBA site that often, you see.

CTRL + S

Amidst the blackouts and the awards, I learned one valuable thing: Always remember to save your work every minute. You’ll never know when MERALCO will cut your electricity.

Surprise Visit

Sigurado ako naranasan niyo ng maligo sa ulan. E ang mag-swimming sa baha? Ako oo! Dalawang beses pa.

Una, noong nasa elementarya pa ako. Ang saya-saya naming mapi-pinsan habang feel na feel naming inaanod kami ng tubig baha. Walang pakialam kesyo may mga lumulutang na mga ipis o kung anu-ano pang mga bagay na produkto ng tiyan ng tao at hayop. Pangalawa, heto at sariwa pa sa alaala ko. At siguradong habang buhay nang tatatak sa aking gunita.

Araw ng Sabado, nagising ako sa tunog ng ulan na walang tigil sa pag-patak sa bubong namin. May bagyo nga pala, sabi ko sa sarili ko. Sumilip ako sa bintana. Lampas talampakan na ang baha! Napangiti ako. Sa buong Marikina kasi, isa ang lugar namin sa mga bihirang bahain.

Pagkatapos mag-ayos at dumiretso ako sa kusina at tinulungan sa pagluluto ang Mama ko. Habang nagpi-prito ng tosino ay aliw na aliw naman akong pinagma-masdan unti-unting pag-akyat ng tubig sa labas.

Mga nasa limang pulagada na siguro ang lalim. Ilang minuto ang lumipas. Nasa binti na ng Tito ko. Ilang minuto pa ang nagdaan. Halos maabot na ang tuhod niya. Ilang sandali lang ay papasok na ang tubig. Hindi rin nagtagal at nangyari na ang kinatatakutan mg Mama ko. Dali-dali naming inangat ang mga gamit sa baba ng bahay, kasama ang washing machine na nakaligtaan naming meron pala kami.

Pero walang mababakas na pag-aalala sa aking mukha. Totoo nyan, naka-ngiti pa ako. Sabi ko nga, bihira lang kasing mangyari ang ganito.

Walang tigil ang pag-ulan. Wala ring tigil ang pagtaas ng tubig. Mabilis. Ilang minuto uli ang lumipas. Hanggang tuhod na ang tubig sa loob ng bahay. Hindi na namin alam kung ano pang pag-angat ng gamit ang gagawin namin. Pinabayaan na lang naming lumutang ang sopa.

Dahil basa na rin, lumabas kami ng bahay. Hanggang hita na ang tubig. Sa galak ay nakuha ko pang kumuha ng mga litrato.

Umakyat na sa bewang ko ang tubig.

Nawalan na ng kuryente.

Nag-patuloy kami sa pag-salba ng mga gamit.

Hanggang tyan ko na ang baha.

Nawala na ang tuwa.

Nanginginig na ang buo kong katawan. Pakiramdam ko lulan ako ng barkong Titanic at pinagma-masdan ang unti-unting paglubog nito.

Nagpasya na akong umakyat. Wala na rin kaming magagawa nung mga panahong iyon. Nakuntento na lang ako sa pagma-masid ng mga kaganapan mula sa terrace. Naaawa kong pinag-masdan ang mga pusang nilalamig sa bubong nga mga kapit-bahay, ang mga batang inililikas ng mga magulang. Isang kapitbahay ang dumaan sa tapat at nag-dala ng masamang balita – meron na raw namatay. Nalunod.

Muli kong binaling ang atensyon sa ulan. Hihinto rin yan maya-maya, sabi ko.

Lumakas ang hangin. Tumaas pa ang baha.

Hanggang sa dumilim. Naalala ko, wala nga pala ang Papa ko. Nandun sa kaibigan niyang nag-iisa at may sakit. Sabi ng Tito ko, hanggang balikat na raw ang tubig sa labas. Wala namang second floor dun sa bahay ng kaibigan ng Papa ko, naisip ko bigla…

Lumalim ang gabi. Hindi ko na alam kung gaano na kalalim ang tubig sa labas. Pumikit ako at nag-dasal. Di nagtagal, naramdaman ko na lang na uminit ang hangin. Tumigil na rin ang ulan. Tahimik akong nag-pasalamat at nahimbing.

Kinabukasan nagising ako sa sinag ng araw na direktang tumatama sa aking mukha. Tapos na. Sumilip ako sa bintana at nasambit ang, “PUTIK!”. Andyan na rin si Papa. Balik na uli ang lahat sa dati – o siya nga ba?

Buong araw kaming nag-ayos at nag-linis ng mga bakas na iniwan ni Ondoy, ang di inaasahang bisita. Bakas ang pagod sa mukha ng bawat isa. Bawat pag-buhos ng tubig at pag-kuskos ng namuong putik may kakambal na buntong-hininga.

Gabi na ng muling bumalik ang kuryente. Agad kong binuksan ang TV at naabutan ang mga balita tungkol sa nakalipas na bagyo. Libu-libo ang na-apektuhan. Hindi iilan ang nasawi. Marami pa ang kailangang tulungan. Muli akong napa-pikit. Sinabi ko sa sarili, maswerte ka pa talaga.