Sorry, FNTC

So I regularly read Thought Catalogue and repin dreamy hipster stuff on Pinterest.

So I'm a 20-something who is quitting her cushy job to LIVE IN FUCKING NEW YORK OF ALL PLACES because I want to see the sun rise from my rusty balcony in the Village.

So I am a product of a third-world upper-middle class suburban family with hardly any childhood angst to draw inspiration from.

So I live and work in literally the most emotionally barren country on earth where nothing blog-worthy happens.

So I'm a Millenial. I have had a comfortable yet boring life and I crave for independence and a break from my utter ennui.

I'm sorry, Fuck No Thought Catalogue. I'm sorry for being me.

Hallelujah

I am sitting in a huddle room today because I have no meetings and the boss is on sick leave. I chanced upon a video of "the Voice" cast singing "Hallelujah" with placards of the Sandy Hooks victims' names and ages on them. Again I found myself tearing up. 

I cry so often when I am reminded of the babies that were slaughtered at Sandy Hooks. Again and again, I find myself mourning the loss of innocent lives...taken far too early and apparently for no reason at all. 

I feel the pain of 20 mothers. I now understand the power of a mother's grief...that her tears can reverberate halfway around the world and shake the lives of people who were just a few hours prior enjoying some drinks on a rooftop bar. Because this is the sorrow that Mary must have felt seeing her only son crucified. This is the helplessness of the Egyptian women whose first borns died from the tenth plague. This is the loss of hope that can only be borne by one who has brought a child into the world, only to have him or her taken away at such an innocent age. 

I want to be a mother more than anything in the world. I will give everything to the little bundles of joy, with only one wish - that I never have to bury my own. 

Next Big Dream

Been trying to get around to this blog. I wrote it out a couple of days ago but failed to publish or save it as a draft. *Facepalm*

Anyway, it still baffles me how some elements of this blog have foreshadowed events to date. The title, “Concrete Jungle” is self-explanatory. I will soon be living in the place where dreams are made (of). I absolutely cannot wait. Perhaps the tedium and safety of Singapore is getting to me. Perhaps I’ve finally realized that my truest friends are still those in Manila and that some people here are just fair-weather friends. Regardless, it’s no skin off my nose. My truest friends are happy for me, and I can expect that each reunion with them will be like no time has passed.  

I reflected on another post, “I Still Wanna Get In”. At one point in my life, P&G was really all I wanted – and I wanted it with all my being. I thought P&G would be the be-all and end-all. But now I realize it’s just another great stepping stone. I admit there were times I really resented being in this company. There were times I would scoff at 2-years-ago me and curse each day I’d have to drag myself out of bed for work. But I realize now that I’ve grown more in the past 1.5 years than I have in all my experience in high school and college.

I guess New York might be the same. A few weeks ago, I would have said that NYU was everything that I wanted with my whole being. Now that it’s within reach, I keep thinking to myself…what if it’s nowhere close to what I imagined? Or worse…what if it is? Taking a book straight out of Disney’s “Tangled” – Flynn Rider told Rapunzel that the only thing to do is find another dream. And that’s what has kept me going, I guess. P&G was nothing like I hoped it would be, but it was also somehow better. After I took away all that I could and should, I turned to my next big dream, which was NY. After NY…marriage maybe? And then starting my own consulting firm. And then having kids. And then who knows. I can only see as far as 5-10 years.

These visioning exercises Joy is making me do have been quite helpful. 

So I Fell Asleep Again

This is my notice to the world that I will no longer fall asleep on my bed after talking to Brett. I will no longer blame my alarm for not having waken me up. I will no longer make excuses for not exercising and generally being a productive member of society.

Unless I'm sick or am on my period.

The Mentor

Dr. Javier's office, William Shaw 3rd floor. It is the group's nth thesis consultation. 

GEMMA: Hi Dr. Javier! 

MIA: Have you gotten a look at our Chapter 3 na? How is it?

DR. J: Ay nako, I didn't get to finish kasi I don't understand this part...[Goes into a long litany of critiques about a particular section] Who wrote this part ba??

[Charles, who has been silent the whole time, raises his hand sheepishly]

DR. J: Ah. [A look of concern softens her features] Well you know, you did well naman eh. You can write well when you put your mind to it...[Gently explains what needs to be fixed]

Coffee Bean Guy

Coffee Bean & Tea Leaf, Alabang Town Center. Mid-afternoon, the mall is packed. There's a free concert at the activity center. Enter Mia, Kat and Alex. 

MIA: Short Cafe Mocha please.

COFFEE BEAN GUY: Name?

MIA: Uhh...Toni. 

CBG: Short Mocha for TONIE [that's how he spells it on the cup]. Would that be all Tonie?

MIA: Mhmm... [fans herself]

CBG: Maybe you'd like to avail of our discount card?

MIA: Sorry?

CBG: Oh...'Cause I was trained in Greenbelt...there's no discount card here, just in Greenbelt.

[Awkward pause]

MIA: Umm...sige next time nalang. 

[takes the receipt and walks away]

Artist Date: VOTE Shirt

This week, I treated my IA to a bit of shopping - but I didn't want to just spend my money. I wanted to spend it on something meaningful and useful. I ended up purchasing a yellow t-shirt at Bayo with the word VOTE on it. My IA should be of legal age by now, so I've been taking time to educate her on national issues. I've been reading the newspaper more often now. Or at least the headlines, which is the only thing I have time to read. I'm also updated through online articles that I find on friends' Facebook pages and on the pages of various Causes I'm part of. The shirt is not just a shirt - it's part of my IA's voter's education.