It's the "We" effect.

I've been happily busy lately and it's so much more refreshing than just being stagnant. I'm so happy that I now have a chaotic schedule.

Lately, I've been meeting with a lot of people, professionally and personally (most I thought I'll never ever get to hang out in the near future). I'm constantly amazed at how I have met so many loving, caring and sincere people in this world.

I'm also so happy that I am now able to make plans... in fact, I have now used 'we' in a sentence. Although, I'm not talking about this in a romantic sense, I still am so happy. I now have plans to spend time with a close friend, a group of friends and people that I feel like I'll be spending a lot more time with.

I think this is what I call the "We" Effect. There's something so mesmerizing with using 'we' in a sentence when you're so used to writing "I".

Who knew that one simple word can make me so happy? Who knew that two letters together could make me feel so... significant?

I do miss a couple of buddies though. (Holly, if your are reading this, I super miss you!!!! When are we going to spend some time together?) And even if I do get to see Janey and Jackie from time to time, I always think that time with them is never ever enough. I long for the day that we have another escape from the city vacation.

S.A.

When you wish every day was Sunday...

I'm amazed at how little time I spend with my family. With last week's escapades and busy schedule, I've come to realize that with how things are going, majority of my life revolves around either a.) getting drunk and stuffed or b.) going to work aimlessly.

Sunday will, regardless of where I am or what has transpired, always be family day for me. I would often call it as "Sunday Tradition" and even though I've been skipping the mass part, I still make it a point to spend time with my grandmother (even though she's so hard to be with sometimes) and with my uncle (even though he's so negative to be with sometimes).

I really wish that there are more Sundays in the world. More Sundays to waste away under the sun. More Sundays to spend with my grandmother and my uncle. More Sunday morning drives with my dad. And more Sunday mornings feeling infinite and amazingly happy.

Looking forward to next Sunday,

Someone Anxious.

Rekindling.

re·kin·dle  (r-kndl)

tr.v. re·kin·dled, re·kin·dling, re·kin·dles

1. To relight (a fire).

2. To revive or renew: rekindled an old interest in the sciences.

Wow. I guess miracles do happen and when things aren't looking up in one circle of your life, you sort of get blessed in another. 

It's been a rekindling month of sorts. After weeks of not having enough time to see my friends, I was able to move in to my apartment, celebrating with Holly and Janey for most of the time. Had my first official sleepover with Holly in addition to meeting up with my college gang (with celebrating my friend Queenie's first time to join us in our Friday Night Outs). Plus, yesterday, an old friend called and although it was work related, it was quite nice to hear someone and go back to old tricks.

What's more amazing is that I am currently spending time with someone I never honestly thought I will ever see again. For those of you who knows, please don't place anything here. I want to talk about this moment as vaguely as possible for "security" and emotional purposes. 

~

I honestly never thought that I will ever get to see you again. I thought that the days of thinking about happier days are what's left in our relationship. Thinking about it now, I realized that when I last saw you, I cried \what was left of everything and just decided to forget about everything and accept that there are things in this world we will never get to have and happy endings are nothing but happy endings. No more dreams of what I could be... when we last saw each other, they were replaced of what should be.

Then, you  called with news that I never thought I would hearr. You called and all of a sudden, everything was a lot more better to swallow. Don't get me wrong, I still constantly think about what I lost and everything that happened. I still feel the shame and embarrassment. No need to hide that and I think you know. However, when you called and I saw you greeting me with open arms, I've come to realize that there is no need to wallow in the self-pity I dose myself with every time I take a cab ride to what I now call "home". There is no need to be sad because things are finally looking up (thank God!).

I see the old you. The you that I tell everyone if they ask about you. I see the old smile, no longer the lazy eyes and the conniving grin. I see the you that stayed at home for my birthday despite the need to work. I see the you that would give me a hug and kiss once in a while before I fell into a deep slumber. I see the you that I miss. The you that always had a preoccupied mind, always half-listening to my ideas simply because you were busy with your own. God! How I missed you! I'm so happy that finally, I have you again and that I know, despite the hardships of the past, the present and the future, things will be alright in the end.

We are so much alike. Out of everyone, I think I was the one who was influenced the most by your bad traits. I think that's why people like to warn me. I think that's why people would always keep me a little bit more closer than to my comfort. I think that's why, they shielded me from the worst. And because of this, I thank the powers that be. I'd rather be blissfully ignorant than never ever have this moment, this feeling, again.

You never used to give me hugs. Rarely. In fact, that made my relationship with him so much better (oh, the irony!). He would hug me, tease me and tuck me in like a child (by force I think as we had no choice). But he would never ever talk to me like you would. There was always something about our conversations that made me who I am today. You would always counter me (which made my logical reasoning a tad higher), talk to me about money (which helped me with numbers) and challenged me to work on things from scratch (which made me a little bit entrepreneurial but I'm still lazy). Like last night, I told you about this business venture I'm really excited about. In the middle of my detail-oriented story, you stood up and made a phone call. Then and there I knew,  you love me enough to tell me that the concept is hazy and that it is confusing to someone with no idea of it... plus the details are too much. God! How I miss that! 

I know there are things still left unsaid about the past. I'd rather not think or talk about it. I'd rather remember this and start with happy memories. I'm not saying this is healthy. I'm not saying that this should be the norm. But it's just who I am. I love you this way.

Now that I think about it, your offer is quite amazing. I can do what I should do and live the way I should live but then again, I don't completely trust you yet. How is that possible? How is it possible to love you so much that I am willing to walk through hell for you but not trust as I trust the security guard of my work building?

Maybe it really is in the blood. 

Always,

S. Anxious.

Moving out while staying in.

I know I've been missing in action for the past few weeks... I blame it on work (which there's really I can't do anything about), my rotting tooth (which was officially extracted) and moving out...

...yes, I moved out.

I officially have my own apartment! Yes! My own apartment! However, it's still in my family's compound (I wanted to call it "estate" due to my addiction of renaming things in this blog, but who am I kidding? All of you know me anyway). I know it's not my dream pad in the city nor is it as accessible to everyone as I thought. But give it a chance. It is (because of the cheap rent, free water and amazing ambiance) absolutely worth it.

There is always a right time for everything and I'm constantly amazed (and worried) at how everything is in place. I've been emotionally robbed so many times that I can't help but wonder if this is just a fleeting fancy or the calm before a great big storm.

Hopefully, it isn't.

~

The best thing about moving in is being creative. I absolutely love how my apartment is right now. It's a private nook in our compound and I have the great white walls I always dreamed of. I placed frame photos the other day and fixed my books... I've never been more eager to stay at home.

~

I realized that having my own space in this world is quite fulfilling. Although I still dream about my lavender painted, bunny wall paper, curtains billowing and fluffy pillows, I know that there is some little girl out there happy about my window view or the named bunnies on the wall (if they retained it).

I'm still bitter. Don't get me wrong. I still cry at night about never having that dream wedding luncheon in our garden or that walk to the church I grew up in. I'm still mad at the people who made it worse to bear and I'm still disappointed  at those who constantly remind of it. There's a reason why I can't go to certain places or talk to certain people. There's also a reason why I can't help but cry every time I listen to "There are Places I Remember".

However,

I'm grateful for you. For teaching about the flip side of things. I'm grateful for you, for being there through thick or thin. I'm happy for you and how we are still able to connect despite the geographical distance. At the same time, I'm amazed at those who remain true. I will always be indebted to all of you.

Losing the superficial and realizing those who are true.

That's the best part about this whole thing.

My real friends are the only ones invited to mi casa.

Winking,

Someone Anxious.

Real Love

I know why you hesitate,

burned by all the fake lovers that you had before.

They put you down and gave you hate...

Don't believe the things they say 'cause baby, you're a dream, you're a score.

'Cause I would walk a million miles for you, just to visit you, baby.

And I'll show you a trillion stars, the Moon is ours.

I just want to engrave this in stone because I believe I've encountered something completely real and amazing. In my lifetime, I met two people who love each other unconditionally... with every semblance of what adults would call "puppy love" but, with all the maturity, hardships and pain most of them will never encounter in a lifetime.

Janey has found love.

And I'm writing this because I am happy for her. I've never been this happy for a friend. In a way, I love Janey (not in the whole lesbian way because I'm so sick and tired of people thinking I am).  I love her and it's the type of love that is never jealous (yes, you can quote the bible verse). I love her because out of all my friends, she's the one who has been there through thick and thin. She understood everything and tried anything you would suggest to her. Unlike Holly, who you can term as my other half (again, not in a lesbian way), Janey is more of my subtle conscience. I have never been mad at her the same way me and Holly fought over a shirt (up to this day we still don't know if it is red or orange). 

When she first told me about Indy (get it?), I assumed. Yes, I was ass for doing so. But I did anyway. 

But seeing them for the first time and reading all about it made me realize that everything I thought was true is wrong. Boy, was I wrong BIG TIME. People can find love in the strangest of places, fall in love in the most unconventional way and find that movie script moments like most of us would hope for but was taught we will never achieve. 

We fall in love. We do. And Janey and Indy's showed me that there is nothing to be absolutely bitter about. There is nothing to over think about. In fact, there is nothing to think about. We feel it because it should be the way it is. We over rationalize it because we're scared and sometimes, taking the plunge should just be how it should be. 

Tears are just part of the story. They make good beginnings (just like in Little Manhattan where the kid bawls his heart out in the beginning). But, just like in any well written story, there's a reason why it's there. Maybe it will lead you to happier times, subtle realizations or simply, a night out with friends. Regardless, one thing remains true. 

Janey, love. I'm here for you. Yes, Someone Anxious (your very self-centered and over zealous, trying hard to be famous but doesn't want to admit it friend) is here for you. A bag of chips? An all meat pizza or maybe just simple rum and red under the night sky? I can only imagine the pain of distance and if there's anything I can do (maybe even never mention it again), tell me and your wish is my command.

You've inspired me, Janey. You've given me that boost and maybe someday, I'll get the chance to write letters to someone too. 

Your friend,

Someone Anxious.

Why my ass is too big and my legs are too long for this country...

Coming from a wake last night and I had to commute on my way home. I was already tired from a stressful day at work and although the rain has subsided, pools of dirty water were still present on my usual route. 

I had to take a jeep (and although it's usually my usual jeepney route coming from my (gay, fashion designer) uncle, I had such a hard time fitting myself in the front seat. Then it hit me.

Maybe my ass is just too big and my legs are too long for this country. 

Honestly, I've always had such a hard time. There even came a point in my life when I had to pay for two people. My legs are squished and even when I ride the shuttle to work, I have to practice being a contortionist. 

I can blame it on the genes. My grandfather was tall (I don't know if he was just born this way or years of playing basketball and baseball developed his legs). My grandmother has quite the hips (this I can truly attest to genetics as every female in my family has what they call "(My grandmother's maiden name) Hips".

I can blame it on the millions of jeeps I've encountered. Maybe they truly been built that way... to make me feel so uncomfortable that I have to blog about it for release. 

Or maybe, just maybe... I'm not meant to be in this country to begin with. 

I find it truly difficult to argue with my sister now and even though I detest the idea of leaving (check my previous entries if you want to know why), I am now facing a situation where I might consider it after all. I told myself once that I will only leave for that scholarship... that prestigious scholarship that makes all the difference in the world. That scholarship that will put me at ease and remind me that I did not talk crap all the way through college. 

That scholarship that gets me one step closer in raising my middle finger to him. 

Then again, why do I have to put him in this equation? The world has turned and everyone has moved on. I also believe so have I. But... there's that sense of payback or revenge that I truly want. The same reason I want to date that guy or do this and be that. I think I'm too into this revenge is best served cold kind of thing. Or maybe I'm just a lovesick fool.

I suddenly have this inclination to run. To chase the sun and never stop moving. All of a sudden, I feel restless. 

I can't help but think that maybe I am meant to leave after all...

...or maybe have my own car. 

Someone Anxious. 

From Reading.

I used to read a lot. Back then, when my brother would hog the television and I was stuck in my room all day, I would read Harry Potter, Sweet Valley Twins, Nancy Drew, Crime Novels and all sort of other books that I could get my hand into.

source:  http://25.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_m83jc3lQ6V1qz6f9yo1_500.jpg 

I never really had patience for textbooks though.

Aside from religion book, I never liked the way the text was printed. It was impersonal, very rational (leaving no room for the readers imagination) and very keen to grade your understanding of what you read (as there was always a comprehensive exercise after every chapter).

Now that I'm working, I find myself reading business books (which in my head, are the same as text books).. For those of you who really know me well, you probably know that I'm not the business sort of person. Yeah, I have my little accessories business (which is on hold as of the moment) but that doesn't make me an "entrepreneur extraordinaire".  In fact, now that I think about it, I've probably placed myself in a situation where I am far as possible as doing my own business. Even my uncle's offer to head certain parts of his business I out rightly refused simply because I always knew that it isn't the perfect time for me... or the fact that I'm just not a business person.

Yes. I'm not really a business sort of person. I think, a lot of people forget that I'm not very passionate when it comes to business. Really, I'm not. I like my work and I want to be successful in it but when it comes to managing finances or seeing something corporate grow, I'm not passionate about it. Yes. I'm not. I really am not. What I like about what I do is how I get to interact with people, think about the processes people undergo everyday and help them develop in some way or another. I don't really like the business part of what I do. I like the people part.

I guess that's what I'm really passionate about. People. Thinking about it, all of my hobbies are about people. Take for photography for example, I like taking photos of people during their special moments. I love making videos of weddings because I feel like there so much energy there. Even food! What brings everyone together, eh? Isn't it food? Are we not all bound by a special occasion or moment by food?

A blogger I follow posted about passion and how he has to really start making time for the things he is passionate about. This idea has been drifting in and out of my consciousness since last night and I realized that day jobs (or the thing that keeps me alive) are really what makes you a lame Joe. IF I don't have a day job, I can't afford to pay my monthly bills, pay for my share of expenses with my dad or even save up for that laptop I really want to get fixed.

Simple really.

S.A.