Something came up (actually, there were two things) that prevented me from getting on this morning’s flight to Manila, in time for the Philippine Blog Awards. (those and the fact that I do not have a formal attire to wear, ha ha!)
But i re-booked my ticket in time for the iblog3. So you will still see me. (puede naman siguro mag shorts at sneakers sa event na ito ano?) He he 
And for the record, I’m dropping by LB after the event…my gimmick card is already full.
I can’t wait. 
Last Tuesday, an ex-colleague and friend told me that I made it to my ex-world’s bulletin. When I got the text message, I actually panicked because i first thought there was an article about me and blogging and all I could think of was “patay buking na ako!”.
Anyway, it turned out that they apparently are tracking the blogosphere about what bloggers are saying about them and then they put a link to that post in their weekly bulletin.
Most readers of this blog know where I used to work but I never written at any post what the company/institute’s name was, until this post where I unconsciously let slip that 4-letter word.
Anyway, it’s not that I’ve committed a crime, it’s just that I feel a little queasy about the fact that I didn’t exactly tell them what I exchanged them for. (honestly, it all boils down to the $$$!!!, ha ha ha.)
I technically didn’t lie either because my reasons for quitting that job was purely personal (which was what I told them) even if problogging was the last nail to the coffin. It seemed silly at that time to tell them (especially my immediate bosses) that I was going to earn money by problogging. I mean…how do you exactly tell rice scientists about the blogging business at the time when I myself didn’t fully understand it? (not that i fully understand it all today, I don’t!)
My closest friends knew, however crazy they thought I was, they were supportive of my decision because I needed to be with my family, period. I told the ex-bosses that I had a teaching job waiting here - there actually was but I decided not to pursue that when I got home.
April 1st last year, I finally was out of there. It was liberating in more ways than one. Not that it was a prison or something, it’s just that I am done with all of those (LB, IRRI and living alone with Raine), I actually may have been for a long time and I was just waiting for a ticket out - problogging turned out to be that ticket.
Now I’m living an entirely different world. It is really ironic because I grew up here but I lived longest in LB than anywhere else. Everyday, rice fields between hills fill the scenery I pass by on my way to town (to get online). That picture and that particular smell in the air when you’re around rice fields, remind me only of one place: IRRI.
Like Ruth told me once: I miss the place, the people and the ambiance but not the work…I feel exactly the same. He he.
So, forgive me Sirs and Ma’ams and my heartfelt gratitute to you all…I am happier where I am now and would like you to know that I do not regret that difficult decision last year, not even for one bit. ;-)
The oddest thing happened…I’ve been asked invited to be guest speaker to inspire the graduates (of the elem sch where I graduated 22 years ago) on their graduation day this coming Thursday.
I am no public speaker but I just couldn’t say no.
It would be easier to write something though and give them each a copy. He he.
So let’s see what would come out of my mouth…;-)
By the way, I have a new problog gig to keep me busier.
Blame This Post to the Broken Dream TV Decoder Box
This was supposed to be posted yesterday. But “the thing”: took two overnights. Now my head feels light, my eyes puffy for the lack of sleep and for crying and laughing at the same time. I’m supposed to feel better (must be hormones), instead i feel like I partied all night on a school day, didn’t do my homework and have to cut classes or call in sick at work.
Except for this one post, I didn’t blog a thing in the last 36 hours. I still cannot blog today because in a couple of hours, I’m taking my son to a kiddie birthday party- his first since we got here last year.
What if it was an all-night date? I don’t want to feel this horrible afterwards, even if I had fun. I guess I’m turning pathetic if not already…
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The simple pleasures of living in a small provincial village:
So far so good. (Since the havocs of milenyo and reming, at least!)
power supply, check. internet connection, check. satellite TV, X.
The weather’s fine but it’s the decoder box’s tuner that went kaput. It’s been a week and the dealer’s technician is not yet through fixing. (hopefully today though…)
Hayy, and I thought life in this place is so simple and cheap. He he.
Summer Time: Beach, Mangga, Bagoong, atbp.
Summer time in the Philippines would not be summer without basking in the sun, frolicking on the beach and eating fish, green mangoes, sautéed shrimp paste (bagoong alamang) and LOTS of rice eaten with your bare hands.
My pinoy summer at least: beach and mangoes, roasted fish on bare hands, pearl shakes and halo-halo, warm sea water and San Miguel Beer.
Lasing, sunog balat, bundat sa busog…iniisip ko pa lang! He he.
Here are a couple of blogging events that will be happening soon:
Awards night on 31 March 2007, 5pm
Podium 4, RCBC Plaza Auditorium, Makati City
Nominees: Main Categories, Special Awards
iBLog3: The 3rd Philippine Blogging Summit
April 13 - 14, 2007
School of Economics Auditorium, UP Diliman
So, will I see you there?
What comes out of a child’s mouth, he heard it from the parents, and the people in his immediate surrounding.
Normally I do not swear and resort only on one bad word - punyeta (i don’t even know what this means exactly!) - when I’m really pissed but i don’t usually direct it at a particular person at any given time. BUT, i say punyeta a lot in my mind, but that is a different story. He he.
I grew up in a home where bad words - mura - has not been directed at any of us, however angry me made our parents. My father just used the PI word only to himself.
Here in bicol, there are many variations to the bad S-O-B/ P-I word. If you do not know the meaning (unless it’s the spanish version h-d-p), sometimes they are pleasing to the ear, you’d think they were just expressions.
Imagine my dismay when i heard Raine say most of those h-d-p variations, on separate occassions?! There was one time when I had to “extract” from him who he heard say such word. He was hesitant for a while, but then eventually confessed -no, not under torture, but under heavy interrogation. He he. (The culprit was one of the older kids in the neighborhood!)
How do you tell a young kid not to use bad words? Raine wouldn’t have known those were bad words until I told him so. It is really difficult, unless we are living in a sound-proof, non-transparent box. Anyway, I just told Raine that he cannot use such words because they’re bad and that I don’t even use them and nobody in our house uses them.