Howdy?
I often hear people ask "how are you?", to which I'm not sure if they really want to know, or it's just part of their expression. I don't even know if I should give them an honest answer, or just say "I'm good" and let it be done with.
This morning, while I was at the pantry preparing my cereal for breakfast, one of my daily "how are you" greeters came in and asked just that. I winced, not uttering a single word but my expression gave it away. Mostly, I would say "I'm pretty good" - out of a rehearsed reply, but not really reflecting a truthful answer. Of course, a negative response meant further questions.
One of my teammates came by yesterday to give me fruits. She said I look like I needed some cheering up. Another teammate sent me an email today asking how I was because I didn't sound good when he was talking to me. I get reminders like I need to slow down, or that I ought to give myself a break. Their concern keeps me going.
To be honest, I'm really tired, stressed, and sleep deprived. Even when I sleep, I dream of the work I have yet to do. I know, it's quite pathetic, but it can't be avoided, especially when your superiors harrass you everyday to remind you of the things you need to accomplish. It also made me realize me why I don't like women bosses in the first place. They're very demanding, obsessive compulsive, control freaks, and detail oriented.
Do I sound like I'm sourgraping? It's just that I haven't had a woman boss that clicked with me. Oh wait, let me take that back. I did have one - but only for a couple of months - 6 weeks of which I was in Manila for a vacation. Does that count?
So, the next time I'm asked how I am, maybe I just ought to keep my mouth shut, and ask the question back at them.
Tuesday, August 10, 2004
Monday, August 9, 2004
Confessions of a Library-holic
If there's a frequent library visitor award, I'd probably be vying for the title. Not only do I frequent the city library, but I borrow tons of reading materials, or CDs, or DVDs, even audio books. I'm there almost everyday - especially on days when they close at 9pm.
They say that 90% of the library's funds are coming from property taxes. Boy, am I making the most of what I'm paying for!!!!
Ok, so I love libraries. Even in college, if you need to find me, just go to the library and I'll be there. I just love to read - books, magazines, or whatever I can put my hands on really. Growing up, we didn't have money to buy books that are not a necessity for school, and so, to satiate my appetite for reading, I'd find my way to the school library and immerse myself on tons of them. Maybe they're to blame for my constant daydreams too!
One good thing about my commute to work is that I get a lot of time to read. Since I take the train and then a bus to work, I have hours to kill. I read on the train, then take a short nap on the bus going to work. On my way home, I take a nap on the bus, read while waiting for the train, listen to audio tapes on the train. Funny because on my way to work in the morning, I have no problem reading while the train is moving. Going home though, I get dizzy if I read. That's where the audio books come in.
If there's a frequent library visitor award, I'd probably be vying for the title. Not only do I frequent the city library, but I borrow tons of reading materials, or CDs, or DVDs, even audio books. I'm there almost everyday - especially on days when they close at 9pm.
They say that 90% of the library's funds are coming from property taxes. Boy, am I making the most of what I'm paying for!!!!
Ok, so I love libraries. Even in college, if you need to find me, just go to the library and I'll be there. I just love to read - books, magazines, or whatever I can put my hands on really. Growing up, we didn't have money to buy books that are not a necessity for school, and so, to satiate my appetite for reading, I'd find my way to the school library and immerse myself on tons of them. Maybe they're to blame for my constant daydreams too!
One good thing about my commute to work is that I get a lot of time to read. Since I take the train and then a bus to work, I have hours to kill. I read on the train, then take a short nap on the bus going to work. On my way home, I take a nap on the bus, read while waiting for the train, listen to audio tapes on the train. Funny because on my way to work in the morning, I have no problem reading while the train is moving. Going home though, I get dizzy if I read. That's where the audio books come in.
Sunday, August 8, 2004
A Lesson Learned
I just finished reading a John Grisham novel - Bleachers. It's a far cry from his usual courtroom drama novels or lawyer stories. It's a nice read though - a bit inspirational if I could say so. It's a close resemblance to a Mitch Albom's book entitled "Tuesdays with Morrie". The story revolved around a coach the players loathe when they play football for him, but one whom you'd end up loving. You realize that he was not only teaching courage and determination on field, but that he's actually teaching his players to face and deal with life's hardest blows.
I have had teachers like that. I don't necessarily hate them when they were my teachers, but they truly taught us a lot of wonderful things that helped us cope with college and the life thereafter. One of them passed away a few years back. She was my english teacher during my senior year in high school. I used to be a very shy girl (I know, quite unbelievable huh?!) - so quiet, timid, and naive. One thing I fear the most - speaking in front of people. You could call it a bad case of stage fright. Part of our grades is to be able to deliver speeches - oratorical, extemporaneous, and the like. You will never be able to graduate without completing them.
I don't know how she did it, but Miss C (Missed C, as she would sometimes call herself being an old maid, but which would elicit laughter from her students) encouraged us to overcome stage fright. I remembered delivering a speech about "The Good Thief" for our finals. It's a speech about one of the thieves crucified with Jesus - one who sought forgiveness with his dying breath. Almost at the end, I forgot the words - probably because of stage fright, so I made them up. My classmates applauded me, and thought I did very well. I was proud of myself. I didn't know I had it in me.
Another critical part of our grades was to keep a journal of our everyday lives, our very thoughts and feelings. It was tough at first, but I learned more and more to open up. As she went through each journal, she would scribble notes on the side, sometimes correcting the spelling or grammar. However, she was more concerned of the content than the format. She would even scribble words of wisdom, sometimes comfort if it was about a problem. It was then that I dreamt of becoming a journalist. Of course, it didn't come true, but that was another story.
From time to time, college students - those whom Miss C taught in high school, came back to school to thank her for the lessons they've learned. When I got to college, I felt I ought to do the same, but I never got around it. Until she passed away.... How I wished I told her how I valued the lessons I learned from her in class.
In college, I became a speech instructress - teaching freshmen how to enunciate words. I excelled in my English classes. I also realized that I have a knack for extemporaneous speaking. When I'm nervous, I tend to think better and faster. In fact, when I defended my thesis, I had a full panel made up of top-notch professors, including our Department Head. Need I say I aced that one? I guess they were more interested in seeing me speak than in reviewing my thesis.
On my first job, I joined Toastmasters to hone my speaking skills more. I would come in, deliver speeches, never needing to prepare for any one of those. The last speech I delivered for TM was in a competition. I was merely wearing jeans and shirt. I had no preparation whatsoever because prior to that, we were busy packing. We were moving out of the house I grew up in. I was in jeans because right after that speech, I need to head home because it was that same day that we were to move out. I was told that the speech was impeccable. I even saw tears in the audience's eyes when it was over. The judges asked for a copy of my speech. They were shocked to the core when I told them I didn't have one. It was totally impromptu.
I still miss standing in front of the public. I miss the look of admiration in my audience's eyes. It had been so long since I did that, and I'm not sure if I still had that touch in me. Miss C only taught me to overcome my stage fright, but in the process, she developed my public speaking skills. The best part of it all - she developed in me the confidence I didn't realize was there all along. The shy, timid, quiet, and naive girl is long forgotten.
Thank you Miss C. You are truly missed!
I have had teachers like that. I don't necessarily hate them when they were my teachers, but they truly taught us a lot of wonderful things that helped us cope with college and the life thereafter. One of them passed away a few years back. She was my english teacher during my senior year in high school. I used to be a very shy girl (I know, quite unbelievable huh?!) - so quiet, timid, and naive. One thing I fear the most - speaking in front of people. You could call it a bad case of stage fright. Part of our grades is to be able to deliver speeches - oratorical, extemporaneous, and the like. You will never be able to graduate without completing them.
I don't know how she did it, but Miss C (Missed C, as she would sometimes call herself being an old maid, but which would elicit laughter from her students) encouraged us to overcome stage fright. I remembered delivering a speech about "The Good Thief" for our finals. It's a speech about one of the thieves crucified with Jesus - one who sought forgiveness with his dying breath. Almost at the end, I forgot the words - probably because of stage fright, so I made them up. My classmates applauded me, and thought I did very well. I was proud of myself. I didn't know I had it in me.
Another critical part of our grades was to keep a journal of our everyday lives, our very thoughts and feelings. It was tough at first, but I learned more and more to open up. As she went through each journal, she would scribble notes on the side, sometimes correcting the spelling or grammar. However, she was more concerned of the content than the format. She would even scribble words of wisdom, sometimes comfort if it was about a problem. It was then that I dreamt of becoming a journalist. Of course, it didn't come true, but that was another story.
From time to time, college students - those whom Miss C taught in high school, came back to school to thank her for the lessons they've learned. When I got to college, I felt I ought to do the same, but I never got around it. Until she passed away.... How I wished I told her how I valued the lessons I learned from her in class.
In college, I became a speech instructress - teaching freshmen how to enunciate words. I excelled in my English classes. I also realized that I have a knack for extemporaneous speaking. When I'm nervous, I tend to think better and faster. In fact, when I defended my thesis, I had a full panel made up of top-notch professors, including our Department Head. Need I say I aced that one? I guess they were more interested in seeing me speak than in reviewing my thesis.
On my first job, I joined Toastmasters to hone my speaking skills more. I would come in, deliver speeches, never needing to prepare for any one of those. The last speech I delivered for TM was in a competition. I was merely wearing jeans and shirt. I had no preparation whatsoever because prior to that, we were busy packing. We were moving out of the house I grew up in. I was in jeans because right after that speech, I need to head home because it was that same day that we were to move out. I was told that the speech was impeccable. I even saw tears in the audience's eyes when it was over. The judges asked for a copy of my speech. They were shocked to the core when I told them I didn't have one. It was totally impromptu.
I still miss standing in front of the public. I miss the look of admiration in my audience's eyes. It had been so long since I did that, and I'm not sure if I still had that touch in me. Miss C only taught me to overcome my stage fright, but in the process, she developed my public speaking skills. The best part of it all - she developed in me the confidence I didn't realize was there all along. The shy, timid, quiet, and naive girl is long forgotten.
Thank you Miss C. You are truly missed!
Saturday, August 7, 2004
Friday, August 6, 2004
A dayÂ’s worth of blessings
I was taught, even at an early age, to count my blessings daily. Even on bad days, I try to think of good reasons why I ought to be thankful for another day. It keeps me from whining. It also helps me appreciate life a little better.
- Thank God for Fridays! I have been looking forward to weekend since Monday this week. It had been a long haul for me, but I survived it!
- Thank God for friends! I had lunch with friends today - one of whom celebrated his birthday the other day (Belated happy birthday D!). It was a sumptuous buffet at Todai's - one of my favorite places. We went back to work with full tummies and sleepy eyes.
- Thank God for another day! Everyday, while taking a bath, I utter my silent prayers - first of which is to thank God for giving me another day. Some people die in their sleep you know.
- Thank God for my job! I may dread going to work on most days, but at least I still have one.
- Thank God for the chance to talk to my husband last night! Even when my phone bill is sky-high, I make it a point to call hubz every night. It's the only way we could keep the communication line open. He keeps me posted on how his day is progressing, and I keep him informed on how my day went. On not-so-good days, I take comfort knowing that he's there to hear my woes out.
I had an earful of sermon from my boss today regarding how our projects are progressing. It seems like I get a dose of these everyday that it goes into my right ear, and exits my left one. What can I say - people are working as hard as ever, and if the zombie-like look in their eyes isn't evidence enough, I don't know what else is.
On days like this, the more I need to remind myself that there are still a lot to be thankful for - and so the list goes on and on and on....
Wednesday, August 4, 2004
What's in a N-A-M-E?
I get asked when I am going to carry my husband's name, what my new last name is, or when I am going to change my name. For personal reasons - reasons that has something to do about my husband's petition to come to the US, I haven't changed my name, and my husband understands that.
Really, what's in a name?
If I don't carry my husband's name, does that mean I don't love him enough? Does that mean he isn't important to me?
Well, if it ain't obvious, he's the most important person in my life now. After all, we're a family. Plus, he knows I love him dearly.
I told him that when he's here (hopefully soon), I'd hyphenate his name with mine. He agreed because he knows that I've built my reputation around the name my father gave me. After all, I have been carrying it all my life.
I have known women who, after getting married, decided not to change their names. I respect that. I truly believe that marriage shouldn't be measured by carrying a common last name alone.
We all have our reasons. We can debate over this for hours. Women ought to have the option to keep their names, and not be criticized or questioned by that choice. After all, sons are able to carry on the family's name, but daughters' can't. At least not in the society we're in, or not unless you're an unmarried woman with children.
Really, what's in a name?
If I don't carry my husband's name, does that mean I don't love him enough? Does that mean he isn't important to me?
Well, if it ain't obvious, he's the most important person in my life now. After all, we're a family. Plus, he knows I love him dearly.
I told him that when he's here (hopefully soon), I'd hyphenate his name with mine. He agreed because he knows that I've built my reputation around the name my father gave me. After all, I have been carrying it all my life.
I have known women who, after getting married, decided not to change their names. I respect that. I truly believe that marriage shouldn't be measured by carrying a common last name alone.
We all have our reasons. We can debate over this for hours. Women ought to have the option to keep their names, and not be criticized or questioned by that choice. After all, sons are able to carry on the family's name, but daughters' can't. At least not in the society we're in, or not unless you're an unmarried woman with children.
Sunday, August 1, 2004
I'm a sucker for a good love story. I love watching romantic movies. I enjoy reading romantic novels. As a little girl, dreams of a handsome prince sweeping me off my feet kept me up until late at night.
I met hubz more than ten years ago because of a common friend who introduced us to each other. If someone told me then that we'd end up getting married someday, I would've rolled my eyes, laughed, and shrugged it off. Ours wasn't a perfect realtionship - it was a tumultuous one! I was as stubborn as a bull (living up to my Ox sign). A lot of times, I can sense he wanted so much to give up on me. I'm sure glad he didn't though!
After we got married, I was more in love with my husband than ever before. I love the feeling of waking up in his arms. You can just imagine how cold I feel now that I'm back to SFO on my own. There's no better feeling in the world than to spend your lifetime with someone you love more than life itself.
To tell you the truth, I have a hard time imagining myself being just a plain housewife. So it surprised me how I could voluntarily adjust to being domesticated. Last year, when he went to work, and I was home, I'd make sure I have his breakfast prepared. We would dine together before he goes off to work. I would also prepare the clothes he'd wear for work. I even made sure I prepared his lunch. After work, I make it a point to be home to ask how his day went, or give him a little shoulder and back massage. It was a great feeling being a wife. In fact, I'd gladly give up my professional life any day if I will be asked to choose between being a wife (and a future mom) over my career.
Being apart from him is just something I will never get used to. If I used to smile when I watch or read love stories, I would now shed tears. I wish ours is as easy as those written on books, or seen on movies.
This year, we will be celebrating our tenth year anniversary. As I look forward to fifty or so more, I just want to express how much I love my guy. Everyday, I pray that immigration laws will soon change so we could be together faster.
I'm a long distance wife. People still ask how I do it. I take it one day at a time. I may look brave on the outside, but if you really look inside my heart, you'd see the pain of being away from a loved one.
I met hubz more than ten years ago because of a common friend who introduced us to each other. If someone told me then that we'd end up getting married someday, I would've rolled my eyes, laughed, and shrugged it off. Ours wasn't a perfect realtionship - it was a tumultuous one! I was as stubborn as a bull (living up to my Ox sign). A lot of times, I can sense he wanted so much to give up on me. I'm sure glad he didn't though!
After we got married, I was more in love with my husband than ever before. I love the feeling of waking up in his arms. You can just imagine how cold I feel now that I'm back to SFO on my own. There's no better feeling in the world than to spend your lifetime with someone you love more than life itself.
To tell you the truth, I have a hard time imagining myself being just a plain housewife. So it surprised me how I could voluntarily adjust to being domesticated. Last year, when he went to work, and I was home, I'd make sure I have his breakfast prepared. We would dine together before he goes off to work. I would also prepare the clothes he'd wear for work. I even made sure I prepared his lunch. After work, I make it a point to be home to ask how his day went, or give him a little shoulder and back massage. It was a great feeling being a wife. In fact, I'd gladly give up my professional life any day if I will be asked to choose between being a wife (and a future mom) over my career.
Being apart from him is just something I will never get used to. If I used to smile when I watch or read love stories, I would now shed tears. I wish ours is as easy as those written on books, or seen on movies.
This year, we will be celebrating our tenth year anniversary. As I look forward to fifty or so more, I just want to express how much I love my guy. Everyday, I pray that immigration laws will soon change so we could be together faster.
I'm a long distance wife. People still ask how I do it. I take it one day at a time. I may look brave on the outside, but if you really look inside my heart, you'd see the pain of being away from a loved one.
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