Happy Single Awareness every day ;-)
I am 28 years old, single, all of my siblings are married and 80% of my friends are either engaged or married. The common questions I'm confronted with nowadays are "Do you have a new boyfriend?" and “When will you get married?.”
Enter the mash-up of the grandfather's clock (tik tok tik tok) and The Jaws’ theme song (ten den den den den den den…boom!). For most people, I'm now in danger zone. The “menopause” of starting a new chapter in life. The fork of my dim road that would decide which path I’m going to traverse for the rest of my life: the bliss of wedded normalcy or the wretchedness of living the matandang dalaga life.
Cue an exact scene from Ms. Philippines Q&A portion:
Host: Do you feel the pressure?
And if I may utter the infamous quote from the beauty queen, let me plagiarize her exact line:
“No, I don’t feel any pressure right now (smiles)”
The whole point of this post is not to lament the barrage of prayers I've been getting, but to help single people like me who may be broken-hearted, desperate, lonely and hopeless, but could still rock the life of singlehood. So folks, if you happen to be single and you feel the pressure 24/7, don’t fret… ‘coz singlehood could also mean bliss (At least for me ;-)). So without further ado, let me share with you some of my tips on how to rock FREEEEEEDOOM!!!
1. If you’re feeling a little bit low on self-esteem, just look up on divorce rates, the number of your friends and relatives undergoing infidelity brouhaha, messy diapers and even messier time management (no more me time). Then, smile. Sometimes, singlehood is a blessing.
2. Kill the memory. If you've just been in a relationship or you can't get over your past, wallow in the agony. Cry megabuckets of tears but only for a week or two. Then, it's time to move on. Clean up the mess. Bury your old pictures, erase the sweet patweetums messages, distance your self from all associated eateries, theme songs and all those cheesy ties. Replace the bad memories with new ones.
3. Surround yourself with people who have positive outlook in life. Because the more you hang out with depressed people, the higher probability that you’ll live a depressed life too.
4. Work but don't overwork (or else you'll end up being a spinster). Work is the best cure to forget that you're single. Plus the more you work, the more money you could have. But then, learn how to party or else you'll end up being a lonely anti-social foreeeevahhh.
5. Cherish your independence. There’s nobody requiring you to update him/her, nobody to ask permission to, nobody to accuse you that you’re flirting, and nobody to give you that mean look when you accidentally stared into the eyes of a mysterious stranger. Look all you want, the freedom is yours.
6. Running low on endorphins because you miss the idea of being loved and being told all those superlative adjectives? The best solution is to RUN. It’s always the best cure for problems and low self-esteem. Run with your thoughts and upbeat music. Feel the speed and ward off those lonely thoughts. Running is all about your own self, your own pace, and the realization that being alone could also be fun! Plus, it makes you burn lots of calories, too!
7. Be comfortable with yourself but don't talk to yourself aloud in public. Most people who’ve just gotten out of long-time relationships get depressed because they’re not used to “living” alone. It’s alright not to depend on someone. Independence will always be best lived when you start getting to know yourself better.
8. Travel alone. It sounds scary at first but believe me, it’s one challenge you wanna experience in life. You get to meet a lot of people plus discover your self better.
9. Never feel sorry for yourself. Feeling ugly, unwanted, rejected and unloved? Hello, just because you’re single, it doesn’t mean that you’re despicable. There are plenty of meaningful and entertaining things to do than pity yourself (See #10).
10. Bored being single? Here’s my list of meaningful/entertaining things to keep you preoccupied:
a. Eat chocolates. But be sure to work out after.
b. Read books.
c. Learn a new sport.
d. Watch beautiful live music.
e. Hang out with your friends and family.
g. Think of a new business.
h. For ladies: Go to the gym and look at all those fine-looking men with badass abs all you want. But be careful 'coz the finer looking their faces and muscles are, the higher the probability that they're gay ;-) Or better yet, watch a triathlon or swimming to take a glimpse of hunks with well-defined calves and ooohlalah buns in fitted tri suits/skimpy trunks. (But let us not call ourselves maniacs, okay?)
11. Never settle for a man you don’t like out of desperation. Remember: It’s better to be a happy spinster than be a lonely wife/husband who’s never in love with her husband/wife from day one. Love with all the right standards and all the right reasons.
So next time they ask you the big question, answer loud and proud: "I'm single and I'm enjoying my freedom ;-)" (Translation: KEBER MO!)
I'm the slowest and the most coward hiker in the whole world. I have fear of heights. I'm not even sporty. And I always have hamstring injury. But here's my unusual story of love for heights, hills, volcanoes and mountains.
I'm flat-footed but I've always loved walking. Then walking became travelling. Then travelling became exploring out of my comfort zone-- the heights.
It all started with one mountain... then, followed a couple more summits. Now, I've crossed six mountains on my list and I'm clamoring for a thousand more hills, mountains and volcanoes.
It wasn't an easy journey. Each trip was a tad hard for my "unsporty" body. I've always vowed not to repeat that experience-- the ultra-mega-tiring experience that makes me curse while I'm on that never-ending road, while my legs and feet hurt like there's no tomorrow, and while I'm on that spot in this universe where there's only one step that separates life and death.
But you know how it is in this world, great experiences come from sufferings! As the good saying goes, "No pain, no gain!" Hiking is a good kind of suffering. It's painful while you're doing it but it's just a temporary kind of pain-- that beautiful pain you wanna experience again and again no matter how excruciating it is for every body part you could enumerate and disown in this world.
I've always had funny souvenirs to take home in each trip--- from unrecognizable trekking shoes turned into a muddy alien...broken cellphone due to heavy rain...LSS from the lovely hum of a bird or the loud song from a tiny cricket...piercing bruises due to happy bumps... to unlikely cuts from holding thorny leaves.
I never had that mountaineer bone in my body. It's just me who cringes every time I'm on that deep ravine, edge of a cliff, and that terrible peak that seemed to pull me into a freefall. It's just me who turns into an old lola who couldn't figure out the right footworks in order to cross one boulder to another. And it's just me, the frustrated mountaineer, who despite that fear, has always gone home happy and alive.
I only have a handful mountains/volcanoes that conquered me. That's right! They conquered me, not the other way around. Each journey was a little step out of my comfort zone. From "skiing" down muddy lanes with the help of long sturdy reeds to powdering my whole attire with brown sand, I've gone outside the box. And of course, I will not forget urinating on top of the hill, in the presence of friendly battalions of cattle. Every trip was worth liters of sweat, unimaginable stinky smell and of course 2 days worth of muscle sore.
There are more expeditions I want to share with you but rather I would like to emphasize on the importance of these trips. If you've got a whole baggage of problems on your shoulders, if you're an atheist, if you wanna fight monotony, or if you've lost purpose in this life, I suggest that you go on a mountain (no exaggerations here). It's too easy to fall in love again with that summit. Nature's too beautiful that there's no way I could think of someone not to believe in a god. Every mountain is just too immense for you to remember again your place in this world, and to laugh off your miniscule problem compared to that holycamowli lovely piece of land you're stepping on. And of course, each trip brings you closer to that good creator, with the help of her wonderful masterpiece.
I'm still dreaming of a starry evening on top of a mountain, the day when my feet touches the clouds, a 360 degree view of the sunrise, Mt. Apo, or the day when I'll stop fearing heights. Maybe one day I'll wake up without that fearful bone in my body and become a mountaineer. Yes, that mountaineer with that lovely getup and that gutsy attitude. You'll never know! ;-)
I fear getting old. Who doesn’t?
Aging, aging, aging! If you want to scare anybody, just give him or her a sarcastic compliment that he/she looks quite old! It’s life’s best form of horror. White hair, wrinkles, handicap, blemished skin, painful knees, memory loss, poor eyesight, illness here and there – the list goes on – everybody dreads an added number! Aging, a stark contrast from the angelic aura of a newborn child, is like birth in reverse.
Scrap the health implications of old age and still, getting old is scary! The responsibilities, helplessness, complexities and limitations partnered with it – are more than enough to get you older than old.
In this week’s episode of my fave comedy TV series How I Met Your Mother, Ted lists the things he feels that he’s too old to do. He calls the list as “Murtaugh’s List,” (From Lethal Weapon’s Detective Murtaugh’s short line in the movie- “I’m too old for this”) From getting ears pierced to getting a hair dye, Barney tries to complete every task in Ted’s list within 24 hours. On the other hand, Ted attempts to accomplish Barney’s list of things only old people would do.
I fear those times—when I feel that I’m too old to do things…and do things only old people would do. To tell you frankly, I am in a pre-midlife crisis. I am scared to let go of my youth and embrace adulthood. I’m in a pseudo-crossroad between my childhood and adulthood. I always wish to be stuck with the here and now –if only there is a way. I sometimes feel like I’m still a teenager and a forever bunsoy in the family. But oh hell yeah, at a prime age of 24, I feel that tantamount pressure of aging.
Quite surprisingly, I imagined myself, a decade ago, that I’d be happily married at this age, wearing a corporate coat in an elegant high-rise building, owning a sleek car and a condominium somewhere in Makati. But now, here I am, still feeling like a teenager, dependent and wanting to be younger and younger as days go by.
If there’s such a thing as getting hooked on “youth,” I’m guilty as charged. I want to be forever young because I want to forever wear funky clothes and accessories (without anyone telling me that I’m a matronang nagdadalaga). I want to eat as much as sisig, bopis, callos, tokwa’t baboy, crispy pata, lechon, utak sa bulalo, chicharon or whatever fatal meal there is in this world. I want to be wacky and play childish tricks without anyone telling me to act my age. I want to forever feel the joy of sleeping 12 hours straight with zero disturbances from any signs of rheumatism or an early 4am cuckoo old age mode. I’m addicted to traveling places because I fear that one day I’d get old and never get the chance to see wonderful places (with achy knees, rheumatism, etc.). I fear forgetting (and being forgotten) and losing people whom I love.
The irony of life is time. Time makes life painful, meaningful, systematic and mysterious all at the same time. Like the changing of day and night, there are also seasons of life we must accept and embrace—I know that. The funny thing is, when you’re living the moment and enjoying too much of “this season,” it’s sometimes harder to let go and embrace the future.
Someday, somehow, I’ll be old enough.
Meanwhile I’m having bouts of insomnia because of this mad loving of my youth. My inner self is sort of always whispering to me, "Go be young!" I always feel that 24 hours is too short. Too plenty of lovely things to do, so little time. Ahhh the agony.
Sa tuwing nakikita kita, literal na kinakapos ang aking hininga. Lumiliit ang mundo ko. At ramdam na ramdam ko ang pagbubutil ng aking malamig na pawis. Bumibilis ang takbo ng aking puso. Nahihilo ako. Bakit kailangan ka pa kasing makita? Kung alam mo lang, pinagtatawanan nila ko sa pagka-duwag ko sa'yo. Hindi talaga kita kayang harapin. Ano man ang gawin kong pagpapalakas ng loob, namumutla ako sa oras na nakikita ka. Ang tagal ko nang ganito, iniiwasan ka dahil sa takot ko sa'yo... sa takot na maaaring mangyari sa akin kapag nakita ka.
Naaalala mo pa noong una kong may naramdaman sa'yo? Ang tagal na noon pero buong buo pa rin sa aking alaala kung pano mo nagawang balutin ng kadiliman ang aking paningin. Tapos akala ko tapos na ang lahat, hindi na kita makikita ulit. Sabi ko sa sarili ko, iiwasan na kita. Pero dumating ang takdang panahon, nagkatagpo na naman tayo. Sa pangalawang pagkakataon ay mas masakit. Mas kabado ako. Para kong tanga na namilipit sa nerbyos nang nakita ka. Nagsuka pa talaga 'ko! Mabuti na lamang ay nagpasama ako kung hindi, hinimatay na talaga ko. Dumating ang pangatlo at pang-apat na engkwentro sa'yo. Akala ko ay mag-iiba na ang nararamdaman ko ngunit ako ay bigo. Takot pa rin pala ako. Bakit ba kasi lagi pa kitang kailangang makita? Hindi ba p'wedeng hindi na lang tayo pagtagpuin sa buhay na ito?
At noong nakaraang linggo, andyan ka na naman. Akala ko magiging madali na lamang ang ilang minutong makasama ka. Pang-ilang beses na rin kasi iyon eh. Sinubukan kitang huwag tingnan. Sinubukan ko ring mag-isip ng kung anu-anong bagay habang nasa isang kwarto lang tayo-- mga masasayang bagay ung pagkain na kinain ko ung sapatos na bibilin ko s'an pa ba ko mamimili masaya ang buhay pero. Pero hindi ko ring nagawang linlangin ang aking takot. Ang pokus ko pa rin ay ikaw. Hindi ko pa rin nagawang agpasan ang takot ko sa'yo. Lumiit na naman ang kwartong kinagagalawan natin. Nanghina na naman ako, maramdaman ko lang ang mumunting sandaling andiriyan ka. Akala ko'y naka-recover na ko sa'yo pero ilang minuto ang lumipas, nahihilo pa rin ako. Kaya binigyan ako ng hindi ko kakilala ng tubig. Pagkatapos isa na namang babae ang nakapansin ng aking pamumutla, akala siguro ay may sakit ako. Sinabi ko na lang sa kanya, "Takot kasi ako sa dugo e. Nagpablood test ako kanina." Dugo dugo dugo ayoko ng dugo!
We will always be in pursuit of our own version of happiness.
Life, they say, is a never-ending road for something greater.
Set goals! Reset goals! Reset further! --It's a never-ending adaptation of goals.
Some people are born with an automatic vision. Some, by the age of 3, conceive that he'll become a pilot, a waiter or a doctor. But for some people, their vision is shaped by time. One day he wants to be a doctor, the next minute he settles to become a nurse.
Most of us, however, live their lives without knowing our calling...and we struggle each day just to find the sole thing that will make us happy. For the antique collector, it's the joy of putting his hands on a 7th century porcelain. A macho man who wants to come out of his closet, has a different version of happiness. A son who devoted all his life looking for his father is another story. A janitor may envisage to become a CEO or run his own carinderia someday. A teenager might equate her ecstasy with the moment her neighbor finally asks her out. A young widower might spend a million years to regain a proxy for her dead husband's place. A gamer equates his joy by playing a winning streak 10 hours straight. A bag lady draws her source of life from a new LV bag.
It's a hard life-long process for the not-so-talented and the unsatisfied. Some end up getting old without knowing where that friggin happiness dwells in. Some made themselves to believe that they already got it in their pockets but in fact, they just accepted the world as it is. Some meet their source of happiness by accident-- a lady bumping next to a busy man on the way to the train station, a construction worker winning the lottery, a bum accidentally discovered by a talent scout, etc. Some are even destined to believe that there is fate. But for the unsatisfied, they do not settle with what they can achieve, no matter how big they've accomplished. For them, there's a whole lot more out there and you must continue the quest.
What if your source of happiness keeps on changing? Suddenly the marketing manager wants to be a mountaineer…Or the priest suddenly becomes an atheist? What if a son turns out to be a deviant, will his mother draw the same happiness from the child she used to rear? What if you want to try out all the things out there but there is too little time to do everything? Will you consider your past happiness void of meaning? Or does it only mean that you’re just fickle-minded, ending up as the jack of trades-master of none?
What makes us happy? Will there be something/someone that would make us happy for the rest of our lives? Or do we only know happiness as something that would eventually fade away? Will we always feel empty or will we figure it out as we get older? Is happiness simply a trap for us to have something to look forward to live another day? When will we stop looking for this vague thing that keeps us revved up with passion?
Maybe that’s what’s wonderful and depressing about life—there are too many possibilities out there. Lucky for those who’ve found what they perceive as happiness… unfortunate for those who’ve got drowned by time.
But the great thing about happiness is that nobody forces you to find it but your own self. You make it…you perceive it according to your terms. It’s in your hands and time. We have the power to find it, to struggle for it, to live for it..or even to acknowledge that we’ve failed to realize it.
People always ask me, "Why?!"
I have always wanted to reply, "Why not?" But of course, out of courtesy, I reply random answers such as "Because it's boring," "Because the EDSA traffic's killing me," "Because we're not meant to be," or whatever good reason pops out of my head.
On the other hand, a lot of people also get giddy, close to being “starstruck.” Coming from a country that is entertainment-centered (and personality-based) in almost everything, people react with their mouths opened wide upon knowing that I work for a media company. The silent air from a wide opened mouth is always followed by moronic questions I wish not to encounter again. (I call it a curse-- Working for a company that has Wowowee in its lunch variety show. But that’s another story.)
It has been one year since I had a 9AM-6PM job…since I last opened SAP and called myself an IT analyst. So much have changed since then.
My average wake-up time is no earlier than 9AM. And believe me, waking up without an alarm clock is complete zen!
Being no longer confined in a 50" X 50" cubicle is liberating. I don't need to kill time. I don't pretend that I'm working on something that is nothing. I no longer use my peripheral view (oooh the boss is coming!) while holding alt+tab with such speed. I no longer watch the clock every minute to wish that it's already 6 in the evening. I can watch, read and do anything I want, anytime of the day (unless there is work). And I no longer need to wear stiff corporate clothes and shoes that are sometimes fatal to my heels (But ok ok I’ll admit that sometimes, I also miss corporate clothes).
I can no longer differentiate weekdays from weekends and weekends from weekdays. And now I know what “time flies while you’re having fun” means!
I have more family time. No amount of money can beat that!
I learned how to spend only on the things I need (and once in awhile, on the things I want.) Compared to big splurges when I still had more earnings, I can now go to malls without spending on anything.
I now go to the gym. Kickboxing is love! Plus observing sweating oldies and ladies flirting with their therapists can sometimes be interesting (or not).
There is a feeling of fulfillment. I no longer ask myself, "Am I useful?," "Is this the only thing I'll do for the rest of the day?" There is a break in routine. It challenges me. My creative juices are working. And being able to hear words you've carefully knit on TV, tingles a bit of satisfaction in me.
From an introvert who doesn't like talking to an introvert who needs to talk because of my job, I guess my PR skills have improved (by 1% hahaha). And I have known a lot of people from all walks of life because of this. And now, I know a whole bunch of new things about sports!
I sometimes wonder what would have happened if I never made that bold step. Would I have been happy? I don't think so. So for those of you who are confronted with the agonies of robotic work or those who are torn between passion and money, pursue something you want at least once in your life. Of course there are situations that won’t permit you to pursue your wants. But in case you have the choice, take risks while you’re young. Take the leap of faith. At least at the end of the day, you know you gave it a shot.
I did and it’s all worth it =)
Lolo's chinky eyes beamed with affection every time I go near his hospital bed. “Kamusta ka na, Lo?” I placed my right palm on his left hand while carefully studying the lines imprinted on it. Is there really a mark that could tell this man’s destiny? Maybe no palmistry could weave his story but the many lines on his rough palms are enough proof of his hard work throughout the years. During his childhood days, he worked as a bus conductor to pursue his ambition of becoming a doctor. He never gripped this dream but he progressed as a well-known accountant that soon helped him become a top-spot town councilor. He soon led the town of Imus as its mayor for 19 years.
“Where’s the soup?” I watched him bow his head while he scooped sharkskin soup into his dry mouth. Everytime he bobs to gulp down his meal, his strands of brown, black and white hair bounced like a horsetail. Lolo is colourful not just because of his hair. He fascinates everyone he meets because of his vivacity, aura and charm. During Christmas breaks, I would always hold his shaking porcelain-like hand and from his two-storey house we would walk a dozen steps to the market. Lolo, clad in street clothes (white sando and brown denim shorts), is so distinct among vendors. “Mayor!” They would call him and he’d present me, his fifteenth apo. Our tours would frequently lead to meeting new people, greeting smiles as if I were a celebrity.
“Yes!” I was surprised by the way he strongly cheered every time his favourite Danny Ildefonoso scored. Two months ago, the doctors detected cancer of the pancreas in him. I think it is so brave of him to watch a basketball game and still enjoy it even if he is nearing his death. The idea of passing did not stop him to go on with life, like a prepared soldier ready to die anytime. My Lolo is a brave man who fears nothing at all. He would often leave his entrance door unlocked, as if trusting the entire world. Why bother locking the door when he knows the suha woman round the corner, the cigarette vendor a few meters away from his home and several kids playing patintero on his empty parking space? Yes, he knows almost any one on this town of Imus that he never worries about the idea of criminals barging into his home. About sixty years ago, this man faced the same feared streets of Cavite as a guerrilla messenger who risked his life everyday. One night his life almost ended. Several Japanese troops chased him to intercept the information he was carrying. He was almost trapped but the presence of a big drum full of fruit peelings gave him hope. He hid there for the rest of the night.
As soon as the game's first half ended, he stood up and joined me on the other side of the room. He put his right arm on my shoulder like he usually does. Grandpa is a very thoughtful person who wakes up at three o’clock in the morning just to cook for us, his twenty apos, our favourite Filipino dishes during our summer and Christmas breaks. He is a very sweet man who endeared himself not only to his relatives but to his friends and kababayans as well. I would never forget how his friend cried upon learning that Jose has an incurable disease. He said that he owed everything to ex-mayor. I learned that Lolo was the one who gave him money to pursue his medicine degree. He is a man well-loved by everybody. During special occasions, I always envy the site of his sala table filled with so many presents.
“Nakain ka na ba,?” his Caviteno accent is as distinct as his many teachings I’ve carried on in life. Among his lines, my favourite is “money, no problem.” He is always willing to offer money to his friends and relatives. He made pautang even to those who can’t pay him in return. To him, money should be given to those in need. He willingly shared his money to make others fulfil their dreams.
“Para sa paborito kong apo, si Karen.” He jokingly teased me as I was about to go. As a kid, I knew that I wasn’t beautiful, but because of my Lolo who treated me like the most beautiful princess, I never really cared that I grew up as an ugly duckling. I think of the times when I said to my self how great my Lolo Che is. He was the one who bought my first Barbie doll, arrived first during my birthday parties, and the one who made me think that death is new life and it is nothing to be afraid of.
To me, he’s a superlolo whose strong words echo whenever I’m afraid. It sounds like a cliche but risking the things you own in order to be of service to others is the bravest battle in life.
- Written in 2001, in remembrance of Jose Virata Jamir (March 18, 1924-February 19, 2002)
It was not too long ago when we were kids filling up autograph books with our ambitions. Funny how our ambitions turn into something else. We imagine ourselves to be this and that but sooner or later we find out that we love other things… or it is best to play safe and deviate from our wildest dreams… or our ambitions simply die with time.
I have dreamt of becoming almost all professions in this world yet up to now, I don’t know what to do in life. I change my ambitions too often that I’m a bit confused on what path to take. I get frustrated when I want to be this and that but I know that I couldn’t because of certain constraints that couldn’t be avoided. It is quite strange that I have had simple ordinary but wild dreams when I was a kid and how those turned into vague “open-ended” ambitions.
As a kid, I dreamt of too many professions. I hoped to become a magician for how many months. I performed tricks of transforming 2-ply tissue papers into 2 separate tissue papers. I imagined my cousins and Lolo to be amazed with my talent. I felt that I was the only one who discovered the magical separation of 2-ply tissue papers. Then one day, while I showcased my talent of letting Mastermind pieces disappear inside my nostrils, my nose bled and my Papa had to accompany me to the hospital. The magician in me suddenly died away with the Mastermind piece left on the doctor’s tray as my siblings laughed at my magic mishap.
I dreamt of becoming a soldier instead, inspired by G. I. Jane's fine-looking blouses. I aspired to combat enemies and the evil with my special powers and my speedy bike. But after my parents bought me a black medical bag, I forgot about my G.I. ambition and dreamt of becoming a doctor instead. I would always carry my bag even inside the shopping mall. I would craft monologues with my imaginary patients, even putting plastic band aids and plasters on my stuffed toys. For a long time, I was so decided to pursue a medical career even boasting to my Titos and Titas that I would follow the footsteps of my Lolo and Ninong. I do not know what happened with that dream but after how many years, I developed a phobia of the blood and upto now, I faint whenever doctors get blood sample from me.
I also remember envisioning myself to become the Little Miss Philippines. I practiced lines and songs and hoped to become the next Aiza Segguerra. My parents would always say that I was still too young and that I must wait for another year. After how many years have passed, I became old and convinced that maybe I was an ugly duckling and winning a talent contest was not my destiny.
Next, I wanted to become a gasoline girl, envying the job of our gasoline boys. I would always persuade my Papa to let me be one of the gasoline boys but that didn’t happen and soon enough, I became allergic to the smell of gasoline. I also wanted to become a cashier and luckily, my mother let me be the youngest cashier in our grocery store. Our customers were so amazed how the 10-year-old in me could punch prices with such speed. But then, soon enough, I got tired of prices of products and faces of customers.
At some point in my life, I also dreamt of becoming a traffic aide. I don’t know why but it must have been their stunning commands of “stop and go” that lured me to dream of becoming one of them. Then, several years after, I got my wish granted and became an MMDA for our philosophy class for twelve hours. It was one of my best and scary experiences in life yet I was convinced not to dream of stopping huge full-size buses and trucks.
As a kid, I also dreamt of becoming a newscaster. I love it when European reporters in their well-tailored blazers enunciate words with such brilliance. But I don’t have a talent in speaking so I had to bid farewell to this lifetime dream.
I also dreamt of becoming a “hacker” or a “computer expert” after watching Sandra Bullock in a computer thriller. She’s one of the main reasons why I’m stuck with I.T. Blame it on her! Now, programming isn’t one of the things that I love yet I’m paid to do it. And it’s all because of that silly Hollywood movie that pulled me into this lovely mess.
One of these days my career counsellor would ask me to set about my target for the next fiscal year. To become a software engineer? An analyst? That doesn’t sound appealing to me. I want to become a rockstar instead (but I don’t sing that well and I don’t have a band) or a tour guide/DOTC official in this lovely country (but that wouldn’t pay my materialistic worldly needs) or a businesswoman selling girly clothes and accessories (but I don’t have capital) or this or that... I have too plenty of ambitions with so many BUTs. Oh well, might as well make the most of being a "Sandra Bullock" trapped insided the Planet Dynpro. Err.