Somewhere in disaster

there is freedom.

Both my Senior High teaching career and volunteer work as church choir accompanist have started this year. Since February, the weeks are being filled with live performances: in front of teenagers and parishioners.

During a speech delivery task, one of the students told me -- in what I believe as a solicitation of comfort -- "I'm scared." To which I replied, "Me, too." And that was no sweet attempt to assuage her. That was the truth.

I am scared of saying the wrong thing, of behaving inappropriately in class. I care about what these kids think of me and how they will remember me. I am scared of making mistakes, even if I preach that the classroom is the very space to make them.

My students think that I am an extrovert, but it feels good to explain to them that I love my job and perhaps I am good at it because of the controlled environment. I know the people I am dealing with. I have a plan.

Now what happens when your fears come true?

No answer on my end regarding unplanned pregnancies, losing a limb, and leaked sex videos. *Vigorously knocking on wood*

As for messing up on the piano at a beautiful Sunday service, here's an answer.

You might think that I'll be referring to a wrong note, or a bad chord. No, when I make musical mistakes, I make it big. That specific Sunday, I wanted to try a different baseline to a song we've been performing for a long time. But then I second-guessed myself. My fingers fumbled and massacred an entire section, or what felt like an entire page of music.

What happened after was not what I expected. The choir head just gave me an amused look. Like, WTF was that? Then the choir behind me simply went on with their business. No fuss. No one cared.

The next Sunday I was back at playing. I wasn't kicked out. My choir mates haven't lost their trust in me. The good news is neither did I lose trust in myself.

Teacher mode on. Moral of the story, our worst nighmares coming true could either discourage us or push us to do better. There's an alternative that I like, though. Our worst nightmares coming true can liberate us when we come out of it alive. The public piano disaster gave me permission to take all the risk I need in pursuit of creativity.

People, podcasting, promotion

On the pilot episode of The Stunner, I talked about the similarities between podcast and free verse. To extend the analogy, like writing a poem, you never really finish a podcast episode, you simply abandon it. I can record a spiel a million times and still find something wrong, whether it's my pronunciation, intonation, tone, word choice, background noises.

There's the trailer that sets expectations, the pilot with all the pleasant explanations, but here's the truth.

This podcast is my way of socializing in a controlled environment. And by that I mean I am in control. It's no secret that I get exhausted by people easily, which doesn't mean that I hate them completely; but, I need to be in the right mental space before I engage with anyone. Being caught off-guard stresses me out. Worse, it can make me resent others or beat myself up — for saying the wrong thing, for reacting wrongly, for being anything other than perfect.

Podcasting is exhausting, too, and not without unpredictability, but here I have a greater degree of control.

And like writing, I crave the pleasure of an audience. Today I've created a Twitter, Instagram and Facebook accounts to promote the show and connect with kindred souls. If by some measure you enjoy my blog, please do give my podcast a chance.

Pilot episode

1) I'm so spoiled with blogs, how it gives you the luxury to change your mind every second. A comma now, semicolon later, then back to comma whenever you please. When I was working for a newspaper, I always dread reading the actual print, because of all the typos and grammatical errors that I might see. My first experience in producing a podcast is recreating that dread, even tops it. At least with print media, you will just have to accept the blunder. That you can reproduce a podcast, meaning re-record, makes it so tempting to actually do it. In other words, it's so tempting to subject yourself to torment.

2) The Stunner podcast is now available on six podcast streaming services, including Spotify.

3) Here is the transcript of the pilot episode, where I explain the whole motivation behind this endeavor:

***

Who/What is The Stunner?

A podcast is like free verse poetry. There's a lot of freedom in it. If it sounds like a nice thing, it's not. In both cases, freedom is the burden of creating your own form. What I'm trying to say is I don't exactly know what I'm doing, but I'm very excited.

*

I've worked for five years for a national newspaper and before and after that, I've been writing freelance for magazines, websites — publication in its many forms, really. I've done advertorials, lots of it, SEO, feature stories.

When people ask me, especially my previous colleagues if I'd be willing to work again in that kind of environment, I give a quick no. It's wonderful, yes, but it's also extremely fast-paced, and I'm a very chill person.

What I miss most however, and what I think made me enjoy and endure those years, is doing profiles. Interviewing people.

I'm an introvert. Like I said in the trailer of this podcast, I'm one of those who would say, "I hate people". And maybe I do, maybe a little. But I am also very intrigued by people. And working in the media, it gave me a chance to entertain that curiosity.

When I think about it, recalling all those times, it's either I meet interesting people, or I have done a good enough job, to dig deep enough to find what's interesting about them.

That's an experience that I want to replicate again and again. And that is the whole motivation for this podcast. When I attend events and do interviews, I become sociable and, to my surprise, fall in love with people! Of course we were in carefully organized events, putting our best food forward; but, yes, that’s what I like. An environment designed to keep you on your toes but eventually let your guard down.

*

The Stunner — noun — is everyone, who is given the time of day to show who they really are. It's me building on that notion that we all have something interesting to say. The Stunner is also that moment or idea that stops us in our tracks. That thing which stuns.

*

It's mostly a lie when writers say, "I'm writing this person or that person's story". Most likely the writer is not telling anyone's story but their own. The subject is exactly that: subject for a desired narrative.

When you go to an interview as an interviewer for a publication, you carry with you a frame. Which can be both a good and bad thing. Good because you'll have focus, direction. And bad because — and I think this is a mistake all writers make — we force a story into a shape that doesn't serve either the subject or the reader.

Like I said earlier, the podcast is like free verse. Because there's no structure to guide you, you can either be happy about it or be lost. We understand how important structure is in communication. But we have to admit that having lots of room to play is a welcome advantage of the podcast.

If all goes well, I'd be talking to different people about the things that stir their mind. The idea is really less on what people do, and more on what they think. And again if I do it right, I'd let them tell their stories in their own voice. Yet be responsible, still, for the listener. That each episode will be crafted with purpose and clarity in mind.

*

My background is literature, I write poetry. I maintain a personal blog with a literary and artistic bent. In a way, The Stunner is an extension of that practice, as a space for the unforgettable characters that I've read in books, or seen onscreen. I would like to chronicle here my impressions of people, real or imagined.

The concept for this programme's been brewing in my head for a couple of years now and it's funny — well I'm laughing at myself — because it takes being quarantined to push me to finally do it. Being forced to stay away from each other made me realize how crucial human interaction is.

So, in short, The Stunner is my way of connecting with people.

The Stunner

It's around 2018 when I declared an interest in running a podcast. But I declare lots of things. Here's also where I'll admit that internal motivation rarely works for me, or works too slowly even by my standards. So it's thanks to friends who've started their own podcasts (spoiler alert) while stuck in quarantine that I find the motivation to start mine.

"Don't wait till the conditions are perfect, otherwise you'll get nothing done." Perhaps it's my perfect excuse for all the flaws in this podcast in its initial stage. If I wait till all the dogs and roosters in the neighbor fall asleep, then there's no way I'd be able to record anything. Neither am I going out, spending cash to acquire high-end gears.

This is a new medium for me (does practice in TikTok count?), though already a dear one. Ladies and gentlemen, The Stunner is now live. I ask you to check it out and listen with a forgiving ear.

Constant

Whenever someone asks where my cubicle is, I always say, 'Iyong walang dekorasyon, iyong walang personality'.

I never mark my territory when it comes to the office—and I've worked in several offices. It's all temporary. My first job was short-lived: one, two months? In my first sort of stable job, I've transferred departments and climbed ranks, and there I started to learn to not be too attached to the desk.

This time, leaving is easier. Because it feels like an actual chapter from a book: full. I've had fun, learned a lot, and given much of myself. And because this leaving—unlike the previous ones—is not an escape but a natural ending.

This is not to say I don't believe in any form of long-term commitment (this blog is one proof that I do).

My current home, I'm very protective of. I groom it as I would myself. By that I mean I obsessively declutter. My favorite practice is throwing away things. In the corner of my mind, however, I know that this isn't my last mortal resting place. (So many plans.) But I think I'll stay here for quite a while.

The constants? Why art and friends, of course—and myself (sanity). I won't know how to behave without books, without fiction and poetry. I'm glad that I am capable of building and maintaining friendships. I wish I won't go insane or die anytime soon because I'm really loving me and my life.

If we've been friends for years, congratulations to us. We've surely changed but that we manage to still respect, admire and seek each other's company is something to celebrate. Happy new year to you!

If we've become friends in 2016, congratulations to us, but more precisely to me. I rarely connect with someone, so I must've been lucky that we've crossed paths. Happy new year to you!

Kids say

the darndest, most honest things.

So this little boy visited our office and invaded my cubicle.

First, he called one of my colleagues, "Taba!"

Then he asked, "Saan daddy niya?" referring to the pig in Angry Birds (which he was playing on my cell phone).

Finally, when he remarked, "Ang galing ko!" for cruising through a level in Angry Birds, I retorted, "Tsamba".

"Ano yung 'tsamba'?" he said in response, in all sincerity, with full attention and anticipation with the knowledge I was about to impart. Unfortunately, embarrassingly, I was lost for words.

Guys, how do you explain "tsamba"?

What are your strengths and weaknesses?

This is always asked in job interviews. After a decade of being an employee, it's only now that I can confidently talk about my weaknesses.

• I think slow.
• I need hours, sometimes days to process an event.
• I abhor multi-tasking.
• I am easily distracted.
• I need to be alone about 90% of the time.
• I need to be outside 50% of the time.
• Routine makes me lethargic.
• When I see no greater purpose in a task or project and the people around me have neither passion nor vision, I get discouraged and work with a heavy heart.

As for my strengths, I'm sure some of my weaknesses are welcome values to many enterprises—but I haven't really reflected much about it yet (see first two items on the list). Next time.

In a Comme des Garçons state of mind

No matter how weird or unique you think you are, you will regularly find yourself in life's textbook moments. For example, if you ask me now, 'What is your most embarrassing experience?'—a question that would usually take me forever to answer—I would say before you get to the second syllable of the word embarrassing: I went all the way from home to work with my blouse turned inside-out. That involved riding two vehicles, crossing about five streets, and passing by at least three people in the office before arriving at my department.

The good news is—are: You learn that you have friends who:

1. have sharp eyes and care about you enough to break it to you gently;
2. will say all the right words to console you;
3. will surprise you with an unexpected response like laugh at the situation and encourage you to look at the brighter side of things; and
4. will give you special treatment and be kind to you when surely they'd be snarkier if it happened to a non-friend.

Fasyown

My favorite response is from Morx, who falls into category #4. He said, 'Kung inside-out, baka akalain nilang Comme des Garçons ang blusa mo. Fasyown.'

Thanks, friends.

On the darker side of things, I can't help but ponder the sheer stupidity of it all. How can I be trusted then with the bigger things, like raising a child or running a project when I overlook my, well, look?

But then maybe I shouldn't be too hard on myself. Lesson noted. Check the mirror with the lights on before leaving the house.

When I got home, I took off my blouse and impulse and curiosity made me put it on again a la Comme des Garçons. Well, it wasn't that bad, I thought and started giggling. Yeah I can see it. Pretty funny, majorly embarrassing.

Small things

It's been raining non-stop this weekend. And this morning the downpour made me stay at home until around 11 AM. When I got out to finally go to work, I couldn't find transportation. All public vehicles would only travel until Evacom (merely a couple of traffic lights away). Going back home was an option, but I didn't feel like it, so I decided to have lunch at the nearby Tropical Hut and then hoped for a successful commute afterwards.

A fast-food restaurant I like.
Serves good coffee.

The place, which has been recently renovated to look fresher, was almost empty. Brilliant. I enjoyed a burger steak, two cups of coffee, and in between exchanged text messages with friends—asking how they are and if we could meet soon.

My calculations were precise (to exaggerate). When I left Tropical Hut, it took me a few blinks to get inside a van and in 30 minutes I was sitting pretty in my cubicle.

Roughly 4 hours were spent in the office. The rain still hasn't stopped. I asked a co-worker if I could hitch a ride home with him, to which he gamely said yes.

Now I'm in my room, and the rain continues. Time passed, nothing happened, but never have I felt like something was wasted.

If I were being lazy, I would say that it's the small things that make us happy; but it's not. That the weather is difficult but endurable (and currently pleasurable), that I am given latitude to be late, that I have had my meal in peace and quiet, that there are people who show care, and that not one of these would be meaningful without the others is no humble clockwork.

Nothing complicated

Top: Playing the mooncake dice game;
Bottom: My (consolation) prize

It's Friday and I didn't know my office mates planned on playing the mooncake dice game. The rule (as how I'm sure I imperfectly understand it) is: A player will roll six dice and a pattern must be apparent—say, 1-2-3-4-5-6 or 1-1-1-1-1-1, etc. No pattern, no prize.

Thing is, my brilliant co-workers only brought a die, so we each had to cast it six times. And arriving at a numeric theme by chance is di-ffi-cult (what I get for initially calling the game 'not challenging enough'). I swear we had more fun than how it looked in the photo.

In the end, I got a Leona Lewis CD, a humongous heart cake ring, and a charm necklace—all from our editor's treasure trove of PR giveaways.

There were tasks to finish and objects of dismay, but it was basically a laid-back night. TGIF— the wind's howling, we might be in for another stormy weekend.

Workaday

1. Write article draft. Check.
2. Open up to someone about my personal life. Check.
3. Handle work problem with poise. Check.
4. Receive compliment on my new haircut. Check.
5. Open up to someone about my professional life. X.
6. Flirt. Check.
7. Patiently wait for my ride. Not cry. Check.
8. Cheat on my diet. Check.
9. Do something too naughty to blog. X.
10. Sleep early. X.

12 things at 2012

1. Someone began with an error. 2013. Although this always happens to me. When it's my birthday and people ask me how old I am, I tend to add another year to my actual age. (Care to psychologize?)

2. I spent the first few hours of 2012 watching Inception on cable TV. That's not entirely true, though. The first 45 minutes were spent watching fireworks. It may be burning money, but it's one human invention and luxury that I appreciate. Someday I wish to visit Australia and, among other things, witness the Sydney New Year's eve fireworks display.

3. In the assumption that trimming them down to the bare essentials will make them easier to practice, my resolutions are:

3.1) meet deadlines,
3.2) not say yes when I don't mean it,
3.3) write slowly.

4. Before you say, How can you meet deadlines when you write slowly?, let me explain: it's not about working fast, it's about managing time well. In other words, I resolve to be more disciplined.

5. The unabridged version of my 2012 resolutions (including the first 3) would be:

5.1) get out of bed before 10 am,
5.2) work out at least 3 times a week,
5.3) minimize junk food intake,
5.4) explore new places.

Still a short list!

Have the most fun

I've been listening to old episodes of Cabin Pressure. Here's a dialogue:

'I have always wanted to be an airline captain... ever since I was six.'

'Ah, and before that?'

'I wanted to be an aeroplane. [...] What did you want to be?'

'Oh, various things at different times. I studied medicine at a university.'

'You wanted to be a doctor?'

'Well, I wanted to be a medical student. They seem to have the most fun. I'm not sure I ever wanted to be a doctor—glamorous, but gloopy.'

Guess I should go back to enjoying being a student, not having goals in sight, not feeling the need to do well. Go back to doing things where there's pleasure in doing them.

(My) Friendship rules

1. Be punctual. Commitment is requisite. Once you've set an appointment with me, don't crush my heart by cancelling it at the last minute (or the last two hours) for another appointment set by your other friend.

When we are to watch a show—especially a play, never dare ask, 'Is it gonna start on time?' It is supposed to start on time. We may be in the Philippines, but you will not make things any better by tolerating that habit.

2. Linger. I spend five out of seven days a week and twelve out of twenty-four hours a day doing soulless difficult things to earn a living. I look forward to conversing with you and therefore you cannot leave at five thirty in the afternoon. Not in the afternoon. Not at five thirty.

Accident's accuracy

The morning's tough. Waking up at 5:30 AM from a 3-hour sleep, waiting in line for 2 hours at the SSS, going back home to prepare to go to work, then commuting to work is exhausting as expected. A brief pause will make the 8-hour office routine manageable.

A mango tea shake is pause enough.

I drop by the nearest coffee house an hour before the call-in time. I look around for the best chair, until my name is called. A group of officemates are having their weekly bible study.

I join in the study: to learn for the first time how fans of faith and humility are the same backbiting personas; to look in the eye a belief I cannot fit myself in. "He worked in my life. He really did." I nod and nod in acknowledgement, not in agreement.

Yet I meet them in that place of believing there is a reason why we are gathered here. I am given that reason when the story of Jesus to be executed with two criminals is told.

To Jesus, one of the criminals asks, "Are you not the Messiah? Save yourself and us." The other says, "Remember me when you come into your kingdom."

I never ask anyone to remember me. I work to be remembered.

A voice, declaring I won't be forgotten, starts to chime.

Cumulative weather

Or A life of almosts.

Afternoon, I dropped by the university to pick up my transcript of records. I hated doing that. I hated getting report cards, course cards, anything that has grade—my grade in it. Not in fear of failure in the zero-point-zero sense, but in failure of making the cut in terms of excellence.

I started out college with the awesome feeling of taking the right course: of enjoying seven o'clock classes, forever enthusiastic, because I couldn't get enough of learning and being my self.

And then terms ended. Terms ended with regret of not making it to the dean's list. School years ended. They ended with the frustration of having only three-point-something averages.

College had to end with disappointment in graduating almost with distinction. Had I only pushed a bit harder, my undergraduate self said.

In the afternoon, my graduate self looked at the transcript. With the simple intention of dropping by the school to pick up a two-page document, I wound up sitting for half an hour looking at numbers, recounting each imperfect episode I lived through: an enjoyably prestigious career, if only the boss wasn't such a baby; the loveliest lover, if only there was love going on; the chic blouse missing a button.

Yes, no point spending much time, intellect and energy on things like these; only you realize that after doing it, after making amends with your mind:

(There's no place for bitterness in my life but my coffee...) 3.450 is not a story but a stat. The glories of a term, its deathly dullness, or sheer uselessness are not translated in those figures.

(If I only needed to be employed, my transcript of records is in fact good-looking.)

—Or How we fool each other.

Res

And then comes the moment when you're doing something for so long the made purpose of the course is to prove a point you've drawn before only in theory.

My stay here at the office has been all I needed it to be: a money-making gig. But I won't deny its queer gifts. An object of my affection and desire, and therefore my literature, and the precise affirmation of the concept itself: Life sucks, but I'm cool.

I will leave this work. This is an authentic announcement. I must admit that this, for me, is a happy place, making it the very space where I get hurt most and often, and easily.

There should be shame in this weakness perpetually practiced: It's more convenient to get mad and fight than reason and compromise.

It is hardest to reason and reason well. It's nothing short of telling a plausible story.

We'll Correct Our Errors Later

From the 15-year-old Lee Hyeon Ju:

Teacher razle and susan are you Okay?
Yesterday I was reading a newspaper and saw it.
The philippines has a state of national emergency.
so I was very worried.
In my country the president is not good at government.
So a nation is complain about a president.
I think your president is not good when I saw newspaper.
Did you same thinking of me?
Anyway I hope that the philippines will Okay.
Teacher susan and razle take care.
(Please a reply to me all right?)
Bye Bye ^-^

I do same thinking of you, dearest Hyeon Ju.

And Then Etc.

There are three absentees in our little office today. Here are their reasons listed in order:

Absentee A:

Nadulas ako sa banyo kaninang umaga.

Absentee B:

Umuwi akong Bulacan kagabi. Napagod lang siguro talaga ako. Magkakalagnat pa yata ako.

Absentee C:

Ikakasal ako sa Sabado, kailangang maghanda ngayon.

Guess what the order is.

Nothing in particular

If I could marry this weather. I can't stress it enough; too bad I don't know how to write it.

Amazingly, though, it's not the cold that has made me want to snuggle in bed, but the temperature that has pushed me to work. I've accomplished so many things today and I'm not talking about a mere sense of having done something, but a heightening of your sense of self.

Therefore this night tonight....can never be a subject of this specific conversation.
—Pattiann Rogers, 'In General'

And then the time to snuggle in bed.