That Dark Damp Basement Staircase Leads To Your Head

"This is one tough baby to write, I don't even know if I am making things worse by bringing this out and God forbid pushing someone into the door. Yet it's a weekend, and even then all dances with Hypnos come with daybreak and just last a couple of hours at the most. Time has been spent with the muse too. Which nevertheless still made me unable to sleep. And here I find myself, with a sink full of dirty dishes, an unmade bed, a pot of stale coffee and cigarettes attempting to make sense of it all."

It all started I think about two and a half decades ago. I had thought I was playing under the blankets with an older female cousin, which somehow turned ugly. What she did to me felt good, but there was a stirring in me that said it was ugly at the same time. I remember softly crying as she reassured me that it was all "perfectly all right". That it was where the nanny soaped really well so that these could be done.

That incident occurred some more times after that, until one day I came home from playing, I saw her boarding one of our cars and the household driver loading all her things into it. She got sent to Granny in the province to be exiled.I learned about the reason a couple of months after that. I was on my way to pee when I chanced upon my mom talking to one of her sisters. Apparently she had "unnatural appetites". Since she was an orphan then, there had been no other place to take her except to Granny's.

I remember racing back to my bedroom, the urge forgotten, my mind racing and my face flushed with shame. Was that what I was now too? Unnatural?

*To be continued.....

Three Mornings of Solitude

Three accounts. Policy Administration. Property Claims Processing. Commercial Claims Processing. Five Countries that include two Mandarin speaking nations. Sometimes it’s so freaking fast you barely hear yourself think.

Three days in a quiet secluded enclave of the islands. Surf. Sun. Sand. A quiet hotel. Shake stalls. Nipa coffee huts. Away from everything. I didn’t even bring my laptop, wi-fi access and did not open my phone.

This is what weekends are supposed to look like. Long ones since the pay is just really for four hours of work everyday. That’s what the contract says anyway.

I really have to get this balancing thing down. And guess what? I think I’m finally starting to learn.

Supersize Me Please!

know, I know. Thirty three and the body starts slowing down, so I have to watch the LDL and Cholesterol and blood sugar.

I get that. But…. I get this too.

Dig the new Wendy’s Baconator. Three beef patties and a generous sprinkling of bacon to surefire clog up those arteries like gonk on an engine.

I did two extra laps of the jogging route to compensate for my unfaithfulness to the diet. Hell, who am I kidding? I didn’t.

Yummy!

Polish-ies and Prose-ehh-Diors

I hate being mediocre. I am so scared I am. Oftentimes I end up botching things because I worry too much and kill the proverbial soup.

Very few people get me, and those that do need clarification. I am vague according to most folks and I scratch my head. I've been accused a lot of times of being "sagey". Whatever the hell that means.

I am dull. Yet am working on polishing myself. There are quite a number of folks who have stayed too to do it. I wonder what they get out of it.

I love to write. I do'n't give a rat's bee-hind anyway if you don't agree with what I write. I smirk at the thought of someone shaking their fists. It means they read everything. Ain't that dumb junior?

I love the good things in life. Both free and expensive. Acquired the taste. Like for muscles. (was that a pun or was in topographical error? tee hee)

I'd poison you and your family's brains given half the chance.

I am arrogant. But never malicious.

I put my foot in my mouth. And enjoy the communal embarassment it brings.

I like to pretend I'm stupid. Then hit you with a BAT. Which means I'm violent, not intelligent.

I contradict myself and my policies. Whenever occasion and vice applies.

I have three offers from firms right now for a higher post than what I currently have. Six figures. I've been an *ss most of the time so I guess I am a lackey donkey. (again, for the dambass, hint hint)

MRT Commuter Files – What’s up with the Mad Dash to the Turnstiles?

At the cost of the pain of admission, both literal and figurative, allow me to say that I am a commuter. For now; as I have not bought a new car yet. There is this phenomenon that I’ve noticed since starting to take the MRT to and from work. As the train glides to a halt the collective human body starts to stiffen, coiling like a spring and then launches with ferocity as the doors open. Braveheart could not have found a better rabble to follow him to the charge.

It has been a cause for amusement for me at first and then wonderment, which has now turned to plain curiosity. More than once this week I’ve caught myself almost tapping the person in front of me to ask why this daily ritual occurs. I maybe missing a huge portion of my life by mot being a part of it and it galls me no end. I end up retracting my hand and heading to my cave, dejected and disappointed. So here I find myself writing what I cannot ask, and maybe if one of the runners read it, would be kind enough to answer.

Here are my guesses to why this ritual occurs:

· It is a daily patriotic gesture, like the current fad of the sun and stars tee. The runners are imitating the great Andres Bonifacio

· There is a secret contest, the winner being the most consistent top finisher. The MRT honchos view the surveillance tapes and decide the weekly, monthly and annual winners

· It is training to join The Amazing Race

· As a part of cost cutting due to the current economic conditions, the companies the runners work for have foregone toilets and/or running water and hence, everyone is running home to pee or crap

· People want to catch Arnold Clavio or Noli De Castro or whoever supposedly non-partisan newscaster is on

· Manny Pacquiao is the contestant for “Dell or Noodle” errs…. I mean “Deal or No Deal” and it’s on permanent re-run

· There is a slap happy telenovela on the telly that’s taking the country by storm

· The Philippine government has allowed porn on free telly from five in the afternoon to seven in the evening

· People have taken the phrase “rat race” too seriously

· The runners were not really listening when “RUSH HOUR” was explained in class

· The runners have incredibly wonderful spouses….bed bed bed baby

· The runners incredibly wonderful spouses are having a romp with the wonderful neighbor

· In the absence of career growth, the mad dash is to exorcise all that unused competitive juice

· The last one is a rotten egg?

So You Think You Can Manage People

You find yourself angsty about getting leapfrogged or you crashed on the interview again. Or maybe you can't get to the next managerial level. Or maybe you haven't felt like you have reached the trough yet, and wonder why your team is collapsing around you. Regardless of what people say and how we all say we are individuals we all fall prey to certain factors, that are generalized and if used effectively can lay the gorundwork for a harmonious team. Or at least a team you got buy-in from. So let's see; what do you do with -

A. Subordinate who talks the talk yet has poor quality or has slipshod work (doesn't have to be an agent, could be an RTA,QA Sup, Ops Sup, RTA Sup, Line Manager whose work needs double checking).

B. Subordinate who likes to do extended hours, but it's because the work is not finished in the time frame that is acceptable.

C. Subordinate who always complains about having a lot to do, when the workload is partitioned and accountabilities defined. Then applies for the next level.

D. Subordinate who isn't meeting key results indicators but is a kiss-*ss

E. Subordinate who is clueless (e.g. it's alright to go on AUX or to leave your post indefinitely, you get paid anyway)

F. Subordinate who raises hell about pay and appraisals yet has been lagging behind and is undependable

G. Subordinate who is dependable but is unbelievably learning handicapped

H. Subordinate who cannot speak straight english, never mind having an accent

I. Subordinate who had been previously your go to person but now cannot stand the sight of you

Coffee on the 25th

So what's up? Everyone's, or most of everyone that is, may well be stone bleeding drunk or stuffed with food right now and in the middle of their after dinner cigars. Gaudy lights, merriment and laughter.

As usual with me, I find myself solitary which I like, as I've given my offspring time a couple of days ago and maybe some more time with the progenitor during the weekend. I told this person why I shunned making plans for these days and why I generally am a recluse after I've doled out the customary and obligatory gift giving. I will not expound on it here as it is too close to my heart to ever be said out aloud and we have to consider that what I said, I said to only one person ever.

I had made plans, and boy oh boy as I had expected, things fell apart What's new? Nothing. What's odd about it? Nothing as well. Why am I miffed? Because I hoped. Built around it, and canceled any plans the kids had made. To end up blogging at Starbuck's West Avenue was not in the plan at all. It makes me wonder sometimes why I even bother.

Anyway, in the spirit of it, a Merry Christmas to one and all. Here's to hoping you have your loved ones near and you have happiness in your hearts.

What I'm Running After

Part of the quest for the lost talismans.

Hoping to buy it soon.

The Cusp Of Change

Now I have a draft of a blog entry that I think I'm glad I did not post yet. I was mad at that time and was being my unpleasant bigot self. I actually enumerated all of the reasons why I wasn't "lesser". It's good that I held back. I was never lesser. Not the five unbroken generations of my family that folks take their hats off in the hometown whenever members of my clan pass them by. Not the ancestral home that stood when these testy folks that drew my ire were just toadstools and tenant farmers wishing the next generation could somehow get an elelmentary education. Wait I am going there again.

The items being: Yes I deliberately tore my life apart. Personally and professionally. Found out too that the world is full of judgmental bigot wannabees. Let me put it this way, at my poorest, I may have been still miles ahead. Funny thing, a person earns a penny and thinks it's a pound, gets an entry level officer position and thinks the world is conquered.

Here is the crux folks. I prove my worth to myself, not to anyone. I do not answer to you or anyone else except my maker. I write because I love to, I developed people as officers because I loved the look in their eyes when they start respecting themselves and learn to respect others too. I take long walks. I take long drive. I love having my passport marked. Because I do. Not because I need to fulfill some ardent urge to gain approval. As Amiel cleverly remarked one "eh, noveau rich".

Now I went back to the horse and rode it. Surprise surprise. So where does it lead us now? I let you sling and sling. I was levels apart when I took a rest and I was asked to "prove myself". So what do I get now? A plaque? Appreciation? Approval? What is that worth to me? Will it improve the quality of my life?

What do you do when you come across me again?

Wise folks hold their tongue. For all you know, the person you are cutting to the bone may have the ability to mess up things and just has learned that it doesn't do anything for him anymore. That being in the background lets him sleep better at night. That there is so much more than prestige, status, and wealth. That maybe he can say that because he had it, and still has it, only he doesn't want to go flaunting to give you your satisfaction since it's pointless. You don't count anyway. As I don't too.

In the end, if you can sleep at night and smile when you wake up then all is ok. What ever ruckus everyone outside does is irrelevant.

And in the end, the real friends say "I wish you well".

Stumped

At the pain of being called a fraud, I'll put this in anyway.

I have six pages with me. Three stories and four album reviews. I was going to put them all in or at least what I could with what I have in my pocket worth of broadband time.

I ended laughing my bollocks off. Which I am still doing while I am laying this down, and without any intention of giving man birth to any of what I've made.

Oh f*ck this is so motherf*cking hilarious. I find myself so stumped and doubled over I am spliting in the seams.

What am I laughing at? Life. All i has thrown and it hasn't finished yet. What was it that Albert Mondiego had said? I think it's relevant at the moment; for the life of me I can't remember what it is. Tee hee.