---My greatest Birthday Surprise!

---Never say "It's not my job!"

Work loads are starting to get into my nerves very recently. I know and I am even told that my existence at home is just merely a passing. The real meaning across is that i am becoming less responsible of the domestic duties I have, regardless of unconscious mental and physical burn out. When I lack sleep, the propensity of my mood surfaces easily when friction happens. One thing I have learned though, is to keep my personal dilemmas away from work even if it was tantamount to breaking out. A shape-shift. I thought of complaining and reason out, but the chances are just slim.

I used to say to my self that I am apolitical. In a very aggressive environment where I am, the likelihood of politics in all aspects is just everywhere. For instance, when you request for something, the one closer gets the higher possibility of getting a yes than coming from someone so tiny in their eyes. Meetings and conferences are just mere avenues to show off or unfortunately get bashed as if they were never committing any mistakes at all. But from a standpoint of a being apolitical, I tally my judgements on how many times I was rather turned down with flimsy excuses. Moreso, it’s aggravated by the word, "It’s not my job." …then who’s job was it if it’s not yours, or mine? This is the last thing I ever wanna hear from my boss ever again than being told you’re fired. So what’s your job? suck politics? Yeah, I did not say politics sucks because it does. I said suck politics like a brainfreezing slurpee from the inconvenient store, or lollilops that stains the tounge in disguise. just do it.might work.

---Into the wild

There’s a lot of things in this lifetime that happens to us. Things that are unlikely but real, painful yet encouraging. I have made a number of ups-downs in which its disclosure might mean being impulsive. Along the way, as I travel through the upheavals, I still come back to one thing that will make me happy and content. I felt that the ticket to do what I want is a college degree to land a good a job and make money, but I failed..though it is an understatement.

A two hour and a half movie is the longest movie I think I have ever seen. Unfortunately I have not seen the whole of Saving Private Ryan or The Piano or Schindler’s List.I would find myself dozing off at the middle part and play it again when caught by chance, but same things happen. I guess it’s because I hate movies whose theme shows the WW. I felt they just have the same endings and beginnings. But just now I finished a flick that lasted more than the limit of movies I’d watch. "Into the wild". The early part was just so light but on the latter part, that’s when it kicks me big time. It’s a true to life story of a man whose mere joy cant be found on material things nor doing the things we want. The drama was actually intensified by melodramatic narration of his sister.He burned all of his identities and money to start something that he’s been looking for. It may appear selfish considering that he had people around him worried-sick of his whereabouts. his journey wasnt thwarted by money. Along the way, he met strangers who became his friends, and touched lives of people he barely knew. In the end he realized that happiness is nothing when you’re alone with it. The real feeling of being high is useless if you have no one to share it with. I sometimes find myself in the stage of denial that the real solution is just being contented. I guess in time I will.

---Masked Coats.

call myself a great human observer. I would always find my attention caught up into something be it simple or odd. It’s not purposely done to judge subjectively the item though there would be times I cant isolate my feelings in giving my point of view.

Most of us are mall freaks. I’m sure that you have noticed these sales ladies in the Department Stores are all wearing make-up in a rather flamboyant colors.Their faces are covered with foundations even whiter than their skin types. Lipstick and mascarra are worn with great pride. I am not a certified make-up user but I know how to look if it fits or otherwise. I’m not trying emphasize that they do not know how to apply make-up but I’m sure it was more obligatory than just being appropriate and fashionable. The task of standing up for eight hours assisting customers, going back and forth getting sizes is not an easy job. I was thinking why cant these rich management come up with a make up 101 as probably part of a training. I am pretty sure it wouldn’t cost much on their pockets than making these people appear like mascots.

One of the many reasons behind the big companies success is because of manpower. I just realized how far they would go to reach out and think about their benefits. Is it all about money? Or is it all about utilizing the folks more than they have to? Just a thought

---Yuletide grief

Last December, I got a text message from my bestfriend about the succumb of her father. It shocked me to a point where I felt being on her position. I had no cognizance or whatever about her dad’s struggle over his health ever since she started working abroad. We would normally keep our correspondence via quick chats over yahoo. Although a day prior she told me that she needs prayer for his speedy recovery.At that moment I felt something terrible. I have this i-dont-know gift where I can feel what’s going to happen. When I heard the news, I felt he was on the brink of his death which was obviously something I wouldnt ever tell my best friend. I dont want to entertain the idea of it.So I quickly put my butt in front of the pc, waited for her online and talked.

We have been friends for decades and this were the few moments we ever dont wanna share with..losing someone we love literally.I wish we could all be living, which is odd. Anyway. I remember once, when our high school crush died 13 years or so ago, we lamented over it but had it in a little obscure way. The two of us were eating on a fast food chain, and imagined he was still living and pretended as if he was with us, talking.it’s funny looking back on it. Yet this time there’s no fun like that. I would circumspectly ask her questions though not sounding insensitive. She is working abroad and I’m not there physically to comfort her. She may be miles from me, but I can sense the poignance across while she types her message sporadically,I was thinking she might be crying at that moment.

I didnt know the right words to say. I found my self just staring at the monitor while my mind tracks back the old days I ‘d spent the night sleeping over at their house while I see his dad work around., or drive, or jokes singly. One day after our conversation,she went home, I fetched her from the airport and she went to the province thereafter. Her family spent Christmas in grief which is unimaginable. As the old cliche goes, only time heals all wounds.We take things lightly as time passes. As painful as it is, we all have our threshold to pain and I know she’ll hold it up well, though the acceptance is still far from the offing. When she came back from home, she told me she didnt look at her father in the casket because the memory of her father shall remain living in her heart and mind..that once she looked at it, it maybe corrupted.

Death is imminent and we dont know when it is coming. I fear death as everyone does. I am not christianly or what-so-ever who says that the word of the Lord will make us prepare. It’s not that I want to refute the famous statement, which I think is very true, yet still there’s just a part of me that says it’s fun living.I cant be prepared. It’s fun to be alive…how about those with terminal diseases…I’m sure dying is just a gift..then maybe they are the prepared ones who needs it as a cure.