Livin high and takin it easy

I have been writing a long time. Not writing professionally but just writings – letters, journals, essays and little articles for myself and for sharing my thoughts with my friends. I have been trying to clean up my internet clutter in the past few months. I have all kinds of stuff all over and some times, such as this one, I want to clear everything and just keep them all in one place. That is why I have been posting old writings.

This desire to clean up and gather all my writings together in just one place has also been rekindled by the fact that Peyups dot com is down. I tried accessing my profile and was unable to. The owners of the site has informed me that the database is down but that does not mean that the site is dead. They will put Peyups back up again when (and if) they find the time. I am only concerned because I have, perhaps, from what my degenerating brain can remember, about four articles that were published during my college years. I have only been able to copy two of these articles into this site and I am fearing that, if Peyups does not come back up, they may be gone forever.

I have to admit that I like reading my old articles and blogs. That being said, I have to admit that I am a fan of my own writing. I do not say that in the narcissistic way (I am not saying I am not narcissistic either) but that sometimes when reading my old writings, I forget that I was the one who wrote it and think, “Wow! This is such great writing!” (*now laughing out loud, can’t help but laugh at how ridiculous I am*)

Yesterday I was making sure that I was catching up on all my housework backlogs with all the laundry, ironing, cleaning and re-arranging. I want to be able to start work next week with a clutter-free mind. Yes, I will be officially working starting next week. Surprise, I will be a writer.

I am excited about working, writing, learning new things and meeting new people. I am basically excited about being able to use my deteriorating brain cells. I am excited for the year 2010. It seems like a very promising year. I hope and pray that things will pick up, that I would be able to do the things I set out to do and that at the end of the year, I will be able to look back and say, “I am proud of myself.”

Finally, I hope to be able to nurture the writer in me, whatever it is I choose to write about. I have always loved writing and it would be nice to actually do it for a living.

Tumblr has some really good sites. I happen to like this particular one that I keep coming back to without my knowing it. Today I came by the site again as I was looking for an image I already saw a few months ago, thinking it was where I would find it. Going from page to page, I realize how much this site inspires me.

The concept of Tumblr is nice. I’d like to have a Tumblr site too but I do not want to make another site I have to constantly devote time to update. Instead, I think I’m just going to post the photos that inspire me in this site. There are a lot, but I’d like to post at the very least one every week.

Here goes the first one.. and this is inspired by the pursuit of happyness – something we are all in pursuit of, whether conscious or not.

Or if not a photo, a quotation perhaps.

The moon, a big round pale yellow, is rising from behind the coconut trees in the horizon, just above and past the neighbor’s roof as I take a break from the day’s work. In a minute, I will take a shower, second today but this time shorter and quicker as showers are the only simple pleasures I take and can get out of this unrelenting heat. The past days can basically be characterized by flitting thoughts and nagging migraines. I have resorted to permanently wearing my eyeglasses in the credence that it is caused by my 20-100 myopic astigmatic vision and have developed an addiction to paracetamol. Though it may also be due to this blinding heat, the insufficiency of caffeine in my arteries, stress from the accumulated housework load or a combination of any two or what the heck, I will just stop speculating and admit that it is due to ALL of the aforementioned reasons.

As I was washing Lia’s laundry in the garage, I distinctly heard from the neighbor’s television set that all citizens of this country must conserve water and one of the suggested ways is taking less, or shorter, showers due to the El Nino phenomenon affecting the country today. I will pretend that I am not aware of such an advisory. Two pails of bath water everyday is not such a crime after all.

What is a crime is not having your pipes fixed when it is obvious that there is more than just one or two underground leaks as evidenced by monthly water meter readings ranging from 40 to 143 cu. m. for a household of two and a half people. Yes, landlady, you are committing a crime. Will someone tell me why I have to pay no less than P1,000 every month for water I supposedly consume when we do not even use the toilet’s water closet, I reuse the washing machine water for flushing and cleaning the bathroom and I use Lia’s used bath water for cleaning the garage? Must I state month after month that the average water consumption worldwide (whether first world or third world country citizen at that) is 3 cubic meters per month? Even if I bathe all day every day there is no way I will consume 40 cubic meters of water. Why is it that the landlady refuses to have the pipes fixed or exposed? Because exposed pipes look unpretty. (I miss you TLC). Damn, some people are just unbelievably petty.

In a month or two or preferably less, we will be moving out. My only hope is the Manila Water Company will do something about the filed complaint and pressure the landlady into doing something about these leaks. Forty (lowest so far in all of the past 13 months and we were even out of the city for half of that month) cubic meters is just a lot of water to waste. Dare I even make a comment about the 143? Shame on people like this.

The past days have been nothing but housework, housework, housework and keeping up with backlogs. I believe I even have “baby fatigue”, a.k.a. fatigue from taking care of a precocious nearly-eleven month old baby day in and day out. I love my daughter but these days, I am just. simply. overly. tired.

Maybe its really not the amount of housework left undone, maybe its this relentless heat. These days every time I have to go out into the garage, I have to wear my sunglasses. Is the sun really that bright or am I living in a cave? (Flashback to when the baby was a few weeks old and we were told she had jaundice – from not being exposed to enough sunlight.)

I do appreciate the quiet early evenings, when the baby has gone to sleep and the husband has not come home from work. It is my time for myself. It is the time to appreciate the simple pleasures of sitting on a chair, sipping a glass of ice cold dalandan juice and looking up at a humongous ball of yellow that is the sun of the night. Just another day in the life of a plain housewife, each day as boring as the next, each day more exciting as the one before.

I am now thinking, did I just have a “vacation” [question mark] because if I did, why do I feel so effin tired? Yes I feel soooo tired.

Define vacation.

vacation, noun – planned time spent not working

Define work.

work, noun – chore, occupation, business

Define occupation.

Halt right there. Yes I know what an occupation is. What I want is a definition of MY own occupation. Sometimes I like to think of myself as plain housewife, but that is just utterly boring… and inadequate. Besides who wants to have the word “plain” attached to his or her title? Sometimes I like to think of myself as stay-at-home-mom, but seriously?! That is simply unflattering. If I’m going to be stuck with an occupation that is in its truest nature boring, I would rather have a flamboyant title just to compensate.

I’m on a quest for that proper, vivacious title befitting of my work nature; but until then, allow me, the empress to rant.

I have been running up and down, down and up the stairs, all gaga with just about the simplest things. Do this, do that, do this after that, do that after this. I am so overwhelmed I cannot even think!

Going back to the definition of vacation, which is, in its narrowest form, time spent away from work. If my work is taking care of the house and the baby, then yes I did have a vacation. My rant is, I come home to find my work not frozen in time as I had wistfully hoped it would be but multiplied by a factor of three. I come home to more laundry than I care to wash, more dust than I care to wipe, vacuum or mop and more mess than I care to clean up. Add that to the fact that my mind is brimming with little and big ideas begging to be sorted out and hopefully, catalogued for posterity’s sake. I am overwhelmed. Physically, emotionally and intellectually.

If this is what it means to have a vacation, I suppose I’d rather not have one.

The true definition of vacation is, “to delude yourself with activities that are supposed to pamper your mind, your soul and your body… so they can better withstand the increased slash multiplied pressure brought about by piled up work”. Hahaha. The world does not stop for anybody or anything… not for “work” and most certainly not for “vacation”.

After a vacation, I’m supposed to feel relaxed, rejuvenated, invigorated but why do I feel so tired? Not only do I have less energy (not to mention money), I also have more work.

This vacation thing needs serious reconsideration, if not total reconceptualization.

This past week has been very, physically and emotionally, exhausting for me. A lot of things happened this week. For some of the important occurrences, one could say, “I saw it coming.”

Ryan going out on a business trip is not something new. He has been going for years. What is different is now we have a baby. I used to not mind his going away. It meant I was going away too. If he was going on 20th for example, I’d book a flight somewhere for 19th and make him drive me to the airport. If he was coming back on the 29th, I’d book mine for 30th and make him pick me up at the airport. Now I can’t go anywhere because I can’t bring the baby to other places just like that, especially by myself. So I stay home.

Staying home in an apartment by yourself, to take care of your seven-month old baby all on your own, without any help from any other family member on any or both sides, and with an insensitive and inconsiderate maid who sleeps earlier and wakes up later than you do is not easy.

Friday I finally snapped my thinning patience and yelled at the maid who instantly packed her things. When it comes to maids (even if I have only had one of my own in my entire life.. the ones my parents had over at our house through all the years of course do not count) I am never one to say or ask, “No, don’t go.” In fact, so enraged was I that  I even had the urge to throw her bags out my gate. An urge quelled by other things of course.

So harassed and exhausted was I that I made a distraught call to the husband who was in the middle of a crazy “Black Friday” sale to tell him that if I had wanted to become nothing more than a housewife, I wouldn’t have taken up graduate studies. That if I had wanted to be a single mother, I would have just gone home to my parents or back to El Nido where I could have a real job and I would be surrounded by a lot of people all the time that I never have to spend a single day taking care of a baby all on my own and nary a person to practice my social and communication skills with.

A hysterical me found myself asking when is it exactly that I would be able to rest? When was the last time I could say I have had a good night’s sleep? I haven’t had a real straight sleep in seven months. I haven’t had a real ME-time in seven months. I keep saying I need to go to the spa for a good massage perhaps but I don’t ever make it. Taking care of a baby, though tremendously rewarding, is also exceptionally tiring. My back used to hurt because I breastfed all through the day and all through the night even as I slept. Now my back hurts because I have to carry around a 20-pound baby. I keep saying one day I’m gonna make it out of the city by myself and have some me-time in some beach in some island somewhere even for a day or two. Just like old times. But I never make it. I cannot be away from my daughter for long periods of time. Not because she demands it, but because I just can’t. I keep wishing I could but I just can’t.

A lot of things is going on right now and I post happy stuff in this site because after all, I want to project that I am living high and taking it easy. One would think my life does not have any privacy at all since I seem to blog all the time, but you would never know what really goes on in my life and I will not tell you either.

Today I was rewarded for all my efforts and hard work with a lot of things I have so wanted. Yes, things. I finally got a Sanuk sandals and a Bamboo tablet. I even got a Nine West sunglasses (which is going to be handy this weekend when we go to Bohol). Ryan finally got himself a point and shoot camera he has been wanting to have for months since he finds it tedious to keep lugging his heavy Nikon D80 around on business trips. That being said, the Nikon D80 is officially mine. Well, it has been mine for some time. The 50mm f.18 lens is mine. I keep thinking of selling my Olmpus E-500 since we hardly use it but I looked at it online to see how much it sells these days and it’s still at about $1000 with used selling from $400 and above. It has not lowered its price that much. I especially love the 40-150mm lens on it and I have a hard time parting with it. Maybe  I won’t.. but what is it gonna be there for?

Ryan even got me a balloon animals book and kit! A few months ago I saw an episode of MOMents where they featured a mom who made balloon decorations as a business on the side and I was sort of envious. No I did not want to put a balloon business but I wanted to be able to make balloon decorations too. We saw a kit at Shopwise once when we were shopping for book shelves but I did not really buy the kit. Ryan said when we were chatting on YM when he was there, “I got you something you at some time expressed a passing interest in,” and I wondered what that was. It seems to me I express passing interest in almost everything and anything, even the most mundane.

I am excited about making little balloon dogs and gators with Lia one of these days.

I am still tired. I am still in need of a good massage. I look at what I have now and I can’t say I’m not happy though. I have to be. These are good things. Some days we get the things we want but not the things we need. Still, is that not something to be thankful for? We know money can’t buy happiness but at least it makes up for some real hard time you have had to and will endure. I deserve these things too I guess. To mask the pain I have in my heart and soothe the pain on my back.

Flipping through a Smile magazine while out having a Mocha Frost in Figaro at The Brick Road, resting from another shopping expedition for the Christmas tree project, a Donna Summer song blasting out of the speakers from an aerobics workout at the gym on the second floor, I thought about how long it has been since I last was on an airplane. I miss traveling.  I think it won’t be long now before I could [probably] go out on a trip by myself. The question is more like whether I would want to. I would probably have a really hard time sleeping even for one night without my daughter.

The Christmas tree project is turning out to be an expensive one. I have never made one myself and all on my own and I wouldn’t still, if only I didn’t have a daughter who deserves a Christmas tree for her first ever Christmas. It’s my first Christmas tree too and I am learning a lot. Next year  I think I will start conceptualizing months ahead and maybe cut down on costs by making the ornaments myself. It would also be a great activity for Lia and me.  Decorating for Christmas is just really expensive. The six-foot tree is now worth P5,500. I can’t say I’m too happy about that.

The past days I have been spending money like I make any. I spent two thousand on shoes though I can hardly be blamed for that. I have not bought a pair of shoes in two years and I had to throw out almost half of the few pairs I own in the aftermath of Typhoon Ondoy. I have been mostly hoarding scrapbooking stuff for the baby’s scrapbook – and buying clothes, like I have opportunities for wearing them as I probably go out like once a week. Hah-hah-hah! I went crazy at the bazaar last night. I can’t seem to get enough of dresses and cool t-shirts.

2010 seems like a promising year. I have lots in line for next year. That’s something since I spent the past years not knowing what I should and will be doing. I am excited about 2010.

I have to put a stop to this endless spending. It’s not like I make money myself. At least today seemed like a productive day. I still have the Donna Summer song playing in my head and totally feeling it too. I have been really bad with all this procrastination and now I’m really bad with all this shopping, valid excuses or not.

This song is making me want to take up aerobics too. That is just so so bad.

Seriously, I have got to start making a schedule, writing down a to-do list, sticking it up on a cork board or my work wall and crossing out the finished tasks. Wait, I have not set up my work wall or my work area in the first place yet. I have an actual work room. Our apartment has two bedrooms on the second floor. One is the bedroom where all three of us sleep and across the hallway is another room that doesn’t have a bed and instead has my shelves, baskets, books, closets with my clothes, shoes and bags – and my work table set up against the window. It used to have a sofa that became a repository for all my what-nots and which I decided to just haul down the stairs into the living room for visitors to use. Until of course, Typhoon Ondoy came and it floated to the ceiling. Now the sofa is sitting on the garage, which is empty by the way since the car is still somewhere in Manila where mechanics are trying to fix it. Oh I should mention some person has started to demand that we pay a parking fee since it has been there sooo long. Can I just say that we have a very empty garage here at home and if it has been up to us, we would have so loved to have the car back like a month and a half ago. Anyway, since the maid came to live with us, she has her stuff in my work room and she sleeps there too. We don’t have an extra room for her downstairs. My room has been the baby’s play area during the day too. That leaves me to work on the floor in the bedroom or in the living room. I seriously need a work room or even just a work corner where I can “work” properly. What work, one would probably ask. Gosh, I think I am neck-deep in unfinished tasks, I can hardly believe it myself.

This evening as we were dining out in some Italian resto in Rockwell, I realized how much work I have to do and that I have to start making a schedule and that I have to manage my time now. Kind of ironic since in the eyes of everybody, I am just a housewife and a mom. What people do not know is that I have another website that I own, awaiting content, empty for the last five months. I have other blogs and sites I have to write content for. I have to set up other sites too. And those are of course, in addition to my being on Facebook, Multiply.. and um, yeah, Friendster. I happen to love my Friendster blog. It’s the oldest blog I have.

I have to go back and work on my graduate studies too. Yes, thesis, thesis and thesis. This semester I signed up for residency with library privileges so I can work on my thesis writing – which I hope I can formally start by first semester of 2010. My goal is to graduate in 2011. Then, maybe, just maybe, I would still want to pursue my Ph.D. in Media, Technology and Society.

I’ve got unfinished short stories and plays. The wonderful play that I wrote back in 2007, one that I am immensely proud of, has to be re-written, more like re-adjusted so I can (finally) submit it to some award giving body.

And of course, since I am a mother, I have to finish the baby scrapbook, the Christmas tree, the Christmas list and the Christmas postcard. Oh darn, I was asked tonight if we are moving out into a new apartment by first quarter next year. That means more things to do. *straight face*

Yesterday I finally made it out the house to look for a dressmaker. I have to have a dress made for my friend May’s wedding next month. I am quite ecstatic in having found a dressmaker here in the village. Sure, labor cost start at P1,500 but I thought that I am paying more for the convenience. I could look for another dressmaker some place else, cheaper of course, but the idea of taking cabs to get there for fittings plus the amount of time I will spend makes me absolutely sure getting someone within walking distance from my house is worth it.

While I am on the subject, we chose to have this dress’s design made, with some adjustments of course.

Urban Jungle Dress for $99.99 at www.modcloth.com

I am very excited. It was fun to have my measurements taken hah-hah-hah. It’s at 33-24-34. *big eyes* It used to be 31-24-33… I should definitely not be complaining. I suppose this is one of the perks of becoming a mom(?!). *straight face*

I had wanted that ice cream dress copied, complete with the malandi flowers and beads, but the dressmaker said the cloth had to be taffeta for that to work. No matter. Maybe on the next wedding? Hah-hah-hah!

Gosh, I am gushing. My head is all a-buzz I suppose. Blame it on that bazaar I just came from. I will write all about it tomorrow. I have to upload the photos on my Flickr first and I seriously need a good internet connection for that. What I wouldn’t give for a 25mbps connection right now, like the one Ryan had in Kyoto. *straight face*

I have not even managed to upload the Pangasinan photos I have. Those were taken way back in February! My gash, why is my internet soooo slow? I would have more time for other things if I didn’t have to upload photos one by one. Seriously. So much to do, so little time.

As a post-script, I should stop playing Zynga games on Facebook…. *real straight face*

Nothing to look forward to in the evenings.

Suddenly the nights are too long and too quiet.

I miss the sounds of basketball TV and UFC… and History Channel.. and Discovery Channel. Already.

Nothing now but me with my noisy thoughts. There is not enough in Facebook to click at.

It’s cold out and I find myself just sighing one after the other. I am preoccupied these days. Not just with things to do but with thoughts. I am overwhelmed with thoughts. If I have been nothing but giddy the last week, this week I am definitely anything but giddy. The more serious part of this is that I am not sure I will be feeling giddy any time soon. Not this coming week most definitely.

The baby scrapbook I have zealously started on two weeks ago with an impromptu shopping spree – if not all shopping sprees are, that left me two thousand pesos poorer as I walked out of this little scrapbooking store in Sta. Lucia is sitting undisturbed on the second floor hallway, after half-finishing the first pages that documented the arrival of the baby almost seven months ago. The idea is to make at least a page for every month for the first year. Just like what my sister Jasmin did for my nephew Sean. That being said, I am [almost] seven months behind.

Speaking of the baby, sometimes I find it hard to believe she is just six months, with all the things she does and can do. I am finally beginning to accept she will be bigger than I will ever be. Literally and hopefully, figuratively. She looks so big. Sometimes I ask out loud, “Is it just me or am I not seeing enough babies to be able to tell whether mine is smaller, or bigger or just the average size for her age?”

I have also been documenting the collection of accessories I have acquired through the years. I plan on disassembling them to fashion them into new and hopefully more exciting pieces. If I fail at exciting at least I will succeed in the new part. I have started putting together a few pieces here and there a few days ago, after a valiant trip to the city of Manila. I say valiant because I had merely wanted to take my mind off things… sad ones specifically. I remember sitting in one jeepney to the next, a blank and sometimes grim expression on my face, not minding the hours. If it was possible to cry, I would have; but I do not want to indulge these tears. I need my strength. I do not want my tears to fall just yet. So far, the city of Manila is the farthest I can go to, given that I cannot be away from the baby for long periods of time. If circumstances were different, I would have been miles and miles away out of the city. The trip to the city of Manila rendered me four thousand pesos poorer, but at least richer by a few points in experience and little tidbits of rather useful information… like where Hidalgo Street is relative to the church of Quiapo. Then again, another little project sitting in one corner of the living room, waiting for me to pick up some inspiration that will drive me to picking them up from their suspended indolence. Yes, their suspended indolence, by virtue of transference.

Like I always do when bothered, or perhaps what most people do, I have been going through my Facebook games in the hopes that mindless clicking will help. No, most people do not go through Facebook games to take their mind off things; just the performance of inconsequential things for the purposes of passing time.

“Most days of the year are unremarkable. They begin, and they end, with no lasting memories made in between.” – Narrator, (500) Days of Summer

I am mostly quiet these days. While sitting at a party a few nights ago, I began to wonder whether I still deserve my name. I am more content to sit in the back, observe everyone, just smile, make polite conversations and be more of a wallflower – blending more and more in the background. I have also began to wonder whether I like this change or not. Or was I ever? I am giddiest the most when I am with my high school friends. Or maybe when I am with my theater friends, they are always just giddier than I am.

There is this sadness.. deep within me. These days I am at a loss for words. Unable to communicate or perhaps, unwilling. What is there to say? What can be said that will not be misunderstood?

Did I not tell someone a few nights ago that the past does not bother me anymore? That I do not care anymore, only to be thought of as someone who is apathetic instead of someone who has finally accepted? Is it not enough that I spent most of my twenty seven years asking why and even going through hours paying someone in an attempt to understand? Last month I have come to the realization that some things are just the way they are. A month ago may be pretty recent but that realization is deep down to the core of my heart.

“All over the world, people are losing their futures and yet there are people who are hung up over the past…”- 8th October 2009

If my tears refuse to fall, it is not because my heart is cold and unforgiving. It is because I am trying to be strong.

My parents are coming over this week. I hope they would find some time to come over to see the baby. My husband’s work requires him to fly out of the country more often than is convenient for anyone. He will be gone almost all of this week and the last weeks of this month. He will be gone for half the month and I am surely not looking forward to that. If circumstances were different, I would be occupying myself with travel plans, booking plane tickets and getting reservations to various little resorts; but right now I am preparing myself for what difficulties it will pose to the baby, she being used to having her father around, and for me who will be helping her cope with that absence. I just know it will be trying and tiring and most certainly, un-looking-forwardable.

There is this sadness at the core of my being. There is this sadness gnawing at the edges of my heart. And this is a sadness I am not familiar with. This too is a sadness I will have to bear for months to come. If you find me smiling and laughing on the moments of forgetfulness, consider it a gift to myself and not indifference. If you find me silent, indulge me in a conversation on any subject regardless of significance. If you find me in tears, love me by not asking why.