Life is really so short

I was working late last night when the sad news came to me. I didn't believe my eyes when the words in that e-mail slowly formed to make sense. As though it was some kind of a hoax playing tricks on me, but no, it was all so true and it left me with the surreal feeling that our life is full of twist and turns.

The wife of our dear CEO died yesterday after suffering a stroke during her pilates session. The news came as a shock. It was earlier this year when I first saw her during their visit at the plant. I don't know her personally but I've been hearing a lot of good things about her. And I can say that for the most part, all of those were true.

She's beautiful, tall and slender. She used to be a model and gave up her career when she got married. She's the type of woman that leaves everyone in the room gawking when she passes by. Not because she's beautiful... It's her personality that amazes everyone around. She exudes the kind of confidence that doesn't assert to flaunt. She's genuinely nice, compassionate, generous and warm. She doesn't make anyone feel a little less about themselves. She puts down their status symbol and reaches out to everyone in need. 

It's so hard to believe that she joined our Creator sooner than we've expected (if I'm not mistaken, she's still at her forties). But like everyone else in this temporary world, we all depart in our own time when our very purpose has ended. And as for Ma'am Ann-Kathrin, I believe she lived a full life, a life well spent, a remarkable one.

No amount of words could ever comfort the pain, the pain of losing someone we love. To Sir Bobby, I offer my prayers and sincerest sympathy to you and your family. May you find the strength to accept God's will and courage to hold on. The whole team is saddened by the loss of the person we've come to love and respect.

To Ma'am Ann-Kathrin, may you rest in eternal peace...

The 7 Things Part II

I wanted to make another post just before September tears its page off  the calendar. As I was contemplating on what to write, I remembered Rachel over at The Diary of a Dreamer tagged me for the LOVELY BLOG AWARD. Thanks Rachel! This is actually my second time. Unlike the first one when you just have to mumble your THANK YOUs, this one comes with 7 Facts about you. In this case, ME! I hope I'm not making my way to becoming a self-absorbed creature.

Am I? Oh no...

S**t!

Anyway, I did rounds on my previous posts just to see what are those things I haven't shared with you yet. I realized I'm almost there to expose my deepest, darkest secrets. Kidding! So here are some of the things which I think are pretty interesting facts about me, which you might want to know (I hope so).

**** The 7 Facts *****

#1. When I was in second grade, I got hit by a vehicle.

Call it stupidity or lack of common sense but I crossed the street when a vehicle was approaching. Sure my parents taught me to look at both sides first before crossing. And I don't know what caused my judgment to twitch, that I decided to cross when THERE'S a vehicle. Luckily, the driver noticed me at once but he's short on brakes so I landed at the hospital with bruises. 

#2. I listen to Taylor Swift.

Eyebrows down please... Alright. Not everybody loves Taylor and I don't adore her either. But I like some of her songs.

#3.  I'm afraid of snakes, worms and anything that crawls.

They're just ewwww!

#4. There are two things I'm addicted to right now : Facebook & Vampire Diaries.

Facebook is like part of my system, and if vampires are for real, I would like to become one! Ssshhh.....

#5. I wanted to become a lawyer when I was a child.

But I realized that reading law books are BORING. I'd rather debate with my friends over who's hotter - Damon or Stefan, than defending my guilty or not client.

#6. I've always been mistaken to have a foreign blood because of my surname.

Yeah. And they change their minds when they start to size me up. I think that's just R-U-D-E.

#7. I'm a weakling.

Wait. I'm too harsh on my self... I have a poor sense of balance. Okay, that sounds better. I almost had my right arm broken when I slipped at a friend's house. Another incident had my right arm (again) bruised when I slipped at the workplace. I have countless humiliating experiences in tripping and slipping (note that those two words rhyme).

That's it!

I discovered that...

I finally knew what it's like to be a sloth. Saturday was very exhausting. As if the tiring and LITERALLY long day during the teambuilding wasn't enough, we partied the whole night away! So there. I spent the whole Sunday sleeping and lying in bed. Neck, shoulders, waist aching like I ran a full marathon or did some serious weight lifting. Though I still managed to get up, eat, uploaded pics on facebook, watched INCEPTION (ok, I know I'm a bit late for that movie. it's just that I forgot I downloaded a copy and wasn't able to watch it until yesterday), even it's mind-blowing plot could not prop me up. I doze off to dreamland half-way through it.

Nevertheless, we enjoyed the event. The scorching heat of the sun didn't stop us from having fun. Though it seems the challenges weren't as backbreaking as the previous teambuildings, but surely the "Amazing Race" concept diluted all our energy.

Apart from gaining few more friends, one thing I look forward at teambuildings are the things I discover about myself. Three years ago, one of the challenges was rapelling. I've always been afraid of heights but I did it despite wobbling knees and sweaty palms. I discovered fear is just a state of mind, an illusion we let ourselves into. There's nothing to fear but fear itself. Doing the rapel challenge paved the way for me to try out some extreme adventures. I became an adrenaline junkie. The fear is still there each time I do some crazy stuff. What causes it? For one, I don't want to die - just yet. Or maybe I don't wanna die with a broken neck or shattered skull. So gross!

This year's challenges proved to be less daredevilry. But I noted some self-discovery along the way. First, patience is indeed a virtue and I needed more time to work on it. I got pissed when our facilitator failed to convey the instructions clearly and easily. I got pissed when some of my teammates could not remember the choreography to the dance (there was a sing and dance challenge). I nearly ranted but I held back when I reminded myself that not everyone got dancing skills. I should be more considerate.

I discovered I can get out from my comfort zones for the sake of winning the race. I discovered I can endure the grueling challenges without fainting from too much heat and suffocating body odors. I discovered I can be quite at times and just listen to what others say during discussions. I discovered I can be confident when an impromtu task is at hand. I discovered I can have fun over the silliest of things.

And most of all... I discovered that being a sloth for a day does make me feel sooooo much better! :)

It's my BLOG's 1ST BiRtHdAy!!!

It's been a year since I started this blog. I still can remember what my first post was all about - it was an out of town adventure in a beautiful island. The  experience was wonderful that made me decide to write it down so I  wouldn't forget every detail. I'm always like that. I'm keen to memories.

So anyway, a year had passed and I'm still here blogging about everything that comes to mind. Write something which I believe is worth sharing to my readers. With that note (ehem, ehem... I'm trying to sound serious here and all...) I would like to THANK all of you guys for being such a darling. For reading my posts, for commenting, for sharing your ideas, for comforting when I turn myself into a nincompoop, for keeping up with my craziness and for being tolerant when I become a jerk! Yeah, seriously! Honestly speaking, I've shared and poured out all my thoughts and emotions to you and in this blog more than I have ever did in real life. Thanks for hearing me out.

Okay. Enough of the drama!

What I'm trying to say is.......................

You're invited to my parrrrttttyyyyyy!!!!!

go grab a chair and have  bite!

Letter to myself

I was thinking, if I would write a letter to myself right now, what would I say? Would I be condemnatory about the actions I did in the past? Or would I be considerate enough to exonerate myself from those mistakes? Would I be sensitive to embrace everything I went through? Or would I laugh it off and say "Hey,  at least I've  lived life to the fullest."

If I were to write that letter, it would go something like this :

Dear Self,

I'm happy to see you doing quite well. The blow's been tough these days and it must have been difficult for you to take it in. But now I see that you're going back to your old, normal self - you're smiling again, laughing, and you can go out have fun with friends minus the alcohol. Yah, it was a shame to admit that instead of eating chocolates, you chose to drink it down.  Somehow, the bitterness of wine is easier to swig than the pain you have to endure inside. I guess at some point of the mending process we all have to be idiots. But I'm glad you were able to get past that phase a little shorter than I've expected. I should give you credit for leaving all behind too soon. Maybe your past breakups taught you so well. Those dumb mistakes made you that much smarter. You've handled it pretty well.

I  know there are times you'd feel lonely and sad. You wanted to retract your steps and change your mind. Sometimes it feels easier to be at the wrong track than find yourself at square one once again. When the battle seems exhausting you feel like giving in and WHAT THE HELL anyway? When all these thoughts resurface, just keep in mind that you're better than these. It's alright to be vulnerable and unstable for awhile but putting yourself back on that compromising situation is a no-no. Don't ever try to look back.

Someday you'll just laugh at this. But until then, keep your head up high and go on.

Yours,

Friday's coming fast and I need your help!

Guys I  need your prayer, I mean your suggestions. Well, on second thoughts, your prayers might actually come in handy. Here's why : I've told you already that our company will be celebrating its anniversary at the end of this month. So there are lots of activities in line for that celebration. One of which is the fashion week that happens every friday, in which we're supposed to wear clothes that represents the theme for the week. Two weeks ago we relived the 70s. Last week we looked like Madonna and Michael Jackson's fanatics. That's how crazy we are! I almost thought I was working for Runway Magazine when I saw my colleagues pulled off some of the best looks from the 70s and 80s. And for this week... 90s it is my friends!

Now here's the catch. Since we're composed of teams, each team shall have a representative for the said fashion show. And by fashion show I meant you have to walk down the ramp, flaunt your clothes / dress / get-up WHATEVER!!! In plain, simple, understandable terms - you do the CATWALK like a MODEL does! 

Very much like this :

Fuck!!!

So why am I cursing like that??!

Because this Friday, my teammates are forcing me to do that! DAMN YOU PEOPLE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

They didn't ask me first. They just wrote down my name on the list of "participants" and ta-da!!! I'm the official representative for the 90s fashion show. H*** CRAP!!!!!!

Don't you laugh coz it's not FUNNY!

***wails WAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH............

I HATE THEM! I HATE them for doing this to ME!!! Are they on coke or something??? Seriously, what-were-they-thinking?

Okay, I understand there are only a handful females in our group but can't they choose someone else? Someone who is more than willing to do the catwalk, smile and pose before the crowd?

Come on guys!!! In my 29 years, I have never did such a thing. Not even a local beauty contest on the street. And I never ever dared dreaming of that. It's not my cup of tea for crying out loud!!! So what the HECK is this all about??!

And they keep on saying this is just for fun. FUN my ass!!! I don't know where would I find the nerve to do something like that. I have a thick face I know but I'm not flashy like that. I'm extrovert on some things but hitting the ramp is certainly, definitely not one of the many things I fancied. NOT IN A MILLION YEARS!!! Not even in my next lifetime!!!!

I tried protesting, blackmailing, threatened everyone to no avail. I might even resort to crying but no one seemed to take on my side. And the assholes are even encouraging me. They're even more excited! 

Fine! Cheers to you guys! I'll be drinking straight up with this one :

P.S. 

Any suggestions about the 90s fashion? I mean the dress, the look? Homaygawd I can't believe I'm really doing this but I've got no choice and I can't escape.  You're free to give me ideas or tips... I don't know. But I guess I need your prayers more than anything hahaha!

Moving forward...

Four days… I got the chance to rest for four days and didn’t do anything comprehensible. Well, thanks to non-working holidays, (Ramadan and Osmeña Day, a local holiday in Cebu that is observed every 9^th of September) I got the chance to get my mind off work and consequently avoided the last place on earth I wanna be – the workplace!

Normally, when I’m faced with an opportunity of having a long-stretched weekend, I would have pulled myself for an out-of-town getaway. A mini-vacay to say the least. But now’s not the time. Or should I say, I can’t seem to find the enthusiasm, the excitement to do the things I used to do, to feast my eyes on sceneries. I just can’t find the zest within.

I did a lot of thinking, of reevaluating myself, weighing my options, sorting my thoughts and most of all, trying to convince myself that I’ll get by just fine. Putting away the things that bring melancholy gives me enough space to put my disarrayed mind in place. The unconditional love and support from my friends were enormous and overwhelming. I haven’t seen them that much concerned and moved. I didn’t expect them to show resilience when I’m at the most vulnerable time of my life. I used to be their protector, their listener, their adviser, but now I’m taking the other side of the coin. This is one those times that I can say I have hit rock bottom. Thought I’m gonna fall hard but I found myself on the softest pillow of comfort. And I realized it wasn’t that bad after all.

Slowly, I’m coming to terms with my old self. I’m doing it one step at a time. I don’t force myself to feel good like a newborn when I know for a fact it is still bleeding. I’m giving myself ample time for grief, for crying, for reminiscing, to be upset, to question the decisions I’ve done. But everything has its limits, has its own end. I have to know when to stop and when to move forward. Each day I take a small step forward, slowly but deliberately. I know I’m making quite a progress. It’s just a matter of time. Just a matter of time and an ounce of determination, I’ll be good as new.

Tomorrow isn’t just another day. It’s another battle of facing reality. As much as I want to stay home and act like a bum, I can’t ignore the fact that I still have a life outside these four corners of my room. I have a career. I’ve got to work. I can’t be puerile all my life. God knows how much I dreaded every single minute at the work place. If I could only escape, if I could only tune out my emotions into something else, I would have done that. But there’s no other way out but to face it and stop running away. It’s time to be brave. And tomorrow I am.