Lighten Up-Morcheeba

I can feel a storm brewing over nothing
We were having fun
There's no harm done there
You need attention
I can see you're sulking
It's about time that you learn to share

Lighten up
It's gonna brighten up
I want to play
You're in the way of our sunshine
Lighten up
It's gonna brighten up
Just let it go
And I will throw you a lifeline

I don't what happened
To those resolutions
We think we found the truth at last
When it escapes
Inside the mirror is a false impression
I can feel so swollen
When I'm in good shape

Lighten up
It's gonna brighten up
I want to play
You're in the way of our sunshine
Lighten up
It's gonna brighten up
Just let it go
And I will throw you a lifeline

Lighten up
It's gonna brighten up
I want to play
You're in the way of our sunshine
Lighten up
It's gonna brighten up
Just let it go
And I will throw you a lifeline

Lighten up
It's gonna brighten up
I want to play
You're in the way of our sunshine
Lighten up
It's gonna brighten up
Just let it go
And I will throw you a lifeline

Sa amin

No.2 Humabon Street, Kingsville Subdivision, Antipolo, Rizal. Ano na kaya ang itsura? May lubak pa ba sa entrada ng gate 3? Yung iniiwasan ko tuwing pumapasok ako sakay ang aking coche? Anjan pa kaya yung 'Walk-In Foodmart' na bukas hangang gabi, na nagbebenta ng masarap na halo halo pag dating ng tag-init? P10.00 pa kaya ito? Pagpapunta sa bahay namin, wala parin bang laman yung mga 'empty lots' sa Napolen Street? Marami pa ba kayang mga tribike? Nadagdagan na kaya ng mga matutulis na hump yung mga kalsadang papunta sa amin? Tama pa ba yung mga nakabisado ko hanggang ngayon na pag-kanan ko sa isang kalye, kailangan nang apakan yung clutch at itanggal sa gear yung 'gear stick' at huminto kasi merong hump agad. Tapos tuloy tuloy hanggang bahay, hindi ko na kailangan pagisipan, natural na ang galaw ng aking kamay at paa sapagmaneho. Pagdating sa bahay, malamig ang hangin, at dinig yung mga aso. Bubuksan ng daddy ko yung gate at papasok ako. Yung pintuan namin, malaki, at 'natural wood' color, na may mga 'square' na molding. Pagpasok, ramdam ang hangin na galing sa 'galeria' o lanai na parating nakabukas. Iiwan ko yung susi ng kotse sa cahon at papasok ako sa kwarto ko. Iiwan ko yung bag ko sa sahig, sa paanan ng kama. Ganun parin ba kaya yung bahay, pareho nung umalis kami? May tunog yung electic fan pag nakabukas, malamig ang bedsheet paghiga sa kama, at meron kang inaabangan na palabas sa TV, tawag ng isang kaibigan hanggang a las 4 ng umaga paminsan.

Ano kaya?

Crossroads

It’s been a while now since the last time I blogged, I had been quite busy with looking for work as an architect, going to work till late at night at the store, and on other days, running to engineering class. After all the job searching and some surprisingly good results, I find myself in a pretty tough position. I now have to make my choice between a Volkswagen Golf and a Ferrari.

I was offered a job at a relatively new all-in-one, architecture, engineering, urbanism, and construction firm, that has recently expanded its practice to the United States and China aside from its local projects in Spain. To make things even better, they made me a pretty good offer, and something more; a shiny new contract. Something I learned that is pretty hard to come by with here in Barcelona (80% of architects here work as free-lance). To make things even better, they are almost literally just a stone throw away from my place.

Then there was this last office/studio of two young architects a few years into their practice. They make your most typical projects, apartment buildings, houses. As with smaller practices (or at least those who care enough to try), there is more attention paid to design. From what I saw, there was enough imagination; it was evident that they valued that extra quality that makes a difference between a roof over your head and architecture. The office felt like a workshop, the kind of environment I like working in. But the job is offered for free-lance architects starting out, and being one has less benefits then a contract.

And so there I was, confused, torn between practicality and idealism. I had coffee with a friend to get some air, let my thoughts out, and for him to understand, I compared the two offices to a Volkswagen Golf and a Ferrari. The studio type office would be the Golf, basic, straight-forward, efficient, classic. No fuzz no frills. And then the big office, a Ferrari, fast, flashy, and turns heads. For some strange reason, fast and flashy never really impressed me. Not in cars, not in clothes, not in people, not in my work.

Then my friend responded to my analogy saying, “I think it’s actually the other way around.” You want the Ferrari. The small office is a Ferrari. The big office is the Golf, it’s the more practical option for your situation (with the contract offered). And then I was lost for words. I never looked at it that way. If I choose the Studio type office, I would be chasing after a dream, a “Ferrari”. While the big office would be the safer choice, the Golf.

So then I came to thinking, realizing, and waking up to the realities of the world that start staring you in the face as you get older. The simpler, more quiet, design/quality oriented practices/work just don’t fit in the picture of the present-day world’s demands of ‘practical, simple, beautiful’. Instead, it is classified as ‘expensive and impractical’. And the ones that jump in the race for success, and money are deemed of as ‘safe’. It makes sense if you're just trying to survive, start out a life for yourself as I am, but then will I be happy?

What is 'sexy'?

As many of my friends know I am a big fan of the show Grey's Anatomy. I like seeing people passionate for the work they do, and it brings me back to my college days when I was surrounded by people with the same attitude. After a while, I had more reason to watch the show: Dr. Berke. Why? He's plain and simple 'sexy'.

At the store today, just 15 minutes before closing, two girls came in. I was busy attaching alarms on to the new clothes, and one of them asked me which was our biggest size for a jacket right away. I thought it was strange coz usually people come in, look at the clothes, and if they're interested in something, they ask for a size. In this case, they just went right ahead and asked which was the largest.

"44." I said. And the girl looked worried. I wondered why, she didn't look like she would have any problems getting into our clothes. So i showed her a jacket of our biggest size, and she tried it on. The zipper wouldn't close. It didn't even meet. And that's when I realized what was going on. She was having a hard time finding clothes for her size. But the truth was, she didn't even look all that heavy. Yes, she looked like she could fill the clothes in pretty well, but nothing out of the ordinary. I went over and looked at how the jacket fit, and to see what I can do to help, and she put on a shy smile as I tried to see what could be done. "See? It doesn't fit" she said. I, on the other hand, really couldn't believe my eyes. I told her i'd find something that might fit and I got her a couple more jackets. Some closed, some didn't and the whole time, she still kept the shy smile. I don't know if as many women would be brave enough to try on as much seeing that the chances would be small. I admired her for it. And then we looked around the shop, talked a bit, and I informed them that it's true that our womens' sizes are a bit smaller, but that i swore she didn't look like she had a problem fitting in them. And then she and her friend told me that it was a good thing our store even had a 44, because other well known Spanish brands only have clothes up to 42! I couldn't believe what I was hearing. The girls said thanks, and went their way.

But then it got me thinking, aside from the fact that the clothes here seem to condition the size of its customers (ill blog about that in another entry), she didn't even look like she needed such a big size. And why? She carried a big size but was sexy! She was curvacious, and she didn't have to be a size 36 to be so sexy.

Some 20 minutes later, I was at the platform at the metro waiting for my train, watching TV being projected on the screen between the tracks of the trains. And then, among all the trivial stuff, they showed the 'Top 10 Sexiest Women' of all time. I suppose it was something done by a magazine, but I was delighted to hear who was on top, and I thought she could actually deserve it: Angelina Jolie. I always thought that she was sexy in her own way. It's a given that her looks and her figure can easily take her to the top of that list, but was it just about that? I don't believe so.

Sexy, I believe is all about attitude. If you feel good about yourself and you live a good life (i mean that you're happy) you could come off as sexy even without knowing it. I was delighted to hear that Angelina Jolie got in this list because I always liked how she isn't the kind of celebrity that puts herself in the spotlight, rather, she goes about her business, like a real person would, supports causes I admire, and in the end, the spotlight follows her!

Another celebrity in this list was Scarlett Johanssen. She's been pretty popular among my male friends lately. Once a friend told me that he liked how she was sexy being herself, that she looked great being just how she was; that she doesn't starve herself. In her own way, with the right weight for her body, she was sexy. Not in the same way as Angelina Jolie is, but sexy in her own right. She carries herself well, she had the right weight on for her body., she looks healthy.

So what is 'sexy' then?

I watched Grey's Anatomy again tonight after a long time due to my work schedule, and i saw Berke again.....sexy! He was brillant, straight, passionate, devoted. When I told my flatmate that what I thought about him, (ok, i know, i shouldn't ask guys if other guys are sexy...haha) he said he wasn't into people with too much color. But in the end, it isnt about the color, nor your celebrity status, nor being a size 44+. It's all about attitude, carrying yourself well, living well, being happy.

Yeah, that girl who tried on that sweater may not have fit into our clothes, but who cares? If that's her weight, then it is. She need not be skinny to be sexy, she just has to think it and believe she is, after all, she already had the curves to back it up!

Being born at 22

When I was young, I always wanted to know what it would be like to live abroad. The whole idea of everything new thrilled me. Of course back then, I was about 9, was growing up in a highly Americanized culture. Everything was American, but in the Filipino version of it. I saw American sit coms, watched CNN, I was just like every Filipino, with his ideal picture of life; American.

It's funny though how as I got older, I learned what consumerism was about, saw its effects, and began to hate it. I was asked to design a shopping mall once for design class, one of these one-stop, '...we've got it all for you...' places. I couldn't stomach it, I hated what it stood for. I despised the project, couldn't stomach designing such a building. In the end, I had to though, but I didn't go down without a fight, I wrote a paper alongside the plate. It wasn't required, but I just felt I had to be heard.

Around this time, I had grown out of my childish 'American dreams', and loved the everyday Filipino life I was living. I still wanted to move off to a place I always wanted to go to, Spain; Barcelona to be exact. I couldn't and still can't explain why, it just felt right. But this moving out wouldn't be born of a desire to leave a life i had behind, a life I truly loved in every way. Instead, it would be a continuation, just in a different setting. And then surprise! A few years later, here I am, in Barcelona.

I thought arriving in a place such as this, a place you feel a certain affinity to would be easy. Little did I know that it would be a little tougher. I had to learn a new language, adjust to a whole new way of life, it was like being born again-but with a past behind you. Back then, I went through the usual adjustment phase, happy-sad, confused, all at the same time. But the truth is though, it is quite interesting, now that I look at it all. A friend asked me some days ago if I missed home (Manila) still, and I replied; "Home will always be home, but this is a new start. I will always feel connected to the place I was born and grew up in, everything I am, how I think, is all molded by that place. But just as I lived there for a certain part of my life, I see my living here just the same as when I lived there, just in a different setting." You continue on with the rest of your years ahead of you, start anew but already being the person you are. Learning how to live anew, while already having had a 'life'.

I thought of writing this blog because of a chat conversation I had with a friend this morning. He was reviewing for his Architecture Board Exams, just as many of my batch mates are. I would have been doing the same too, if I never left. If I never left, I would know exactly where I was, more or less what I should be doing, where I was going. Maybe I would have my license too in this year together with the rest of them, those bunch of numbers, that piece of paper that blinds employers and clients into believing that you're to trust with their homes, projects. Instead, I am here, a 2 year-old.

A 2 year-old with a 22-year old past. Just like the rest of 'em, yes, I am learning my ABC's, practicing them as I speak in the new language I now speak. But part of what I have to learn as well, is how to errect buildings, with my fresh new ABC's and number system. Being a 2 year-old with a 22 year old past, also means I have old perceptions of things that I have to look at in a new way. Old perceptions like how I would like to have that piece of paper with numbers to allow my future employers and clients to sleep better at night, and to be brave enough to face the possibility that to be able to get that here, I will have to put up a pretty bloody fight. That among other things...

I have to say though that being two again has plenty of 'ups', maybe more than 'downs' as the days go by. I get to meet new friends, learn to have a new perception of things, eat new food, and guess what more (my 2 year-old counterparts in Manila would be so jealous); I can ride my bike now, anywhere I want, and unlike never before!

In the end, instead of feeling like i'm getting left behind by my peers back in Manila, I see it a new way; yes, I may have just finished 'crawling' again, as they are all running about. But that doesn't matter, because i'm learning it all anew for a new place, a new life. Soon enough i'll be running too.

Good luck to all my friends back home reviewing for the boards! I would have loved to be there and be part of it. I wish you all the best, and many prayers!

Listen to this!

I thought today was going to be another typical day at the store. My favorite part of my job is helping the customers out, chatting with them, figuring out what they would like if they go so far as to ask my opinion on the clothes they choose. But ofcourse, there are also those that don't want any help, there are all types. Today though, I assisted one of my favorite customers so far.

I greeted a guy in his mid-twenties that entered the store, like I do with most people who visit, and he responded quite nicely to my greeting, "Hi, I'm looking for something to buy for a 22-year old girl, I put my trust in any advice you could give me on what I should choose. Can you help me?" How sweet is that, I thought. A GUY was going SHOPPING with NO IDEA what to get for a girl, but was doing it anyway for his girl. So i helped him out, at first i thought it was a huge responsibility; sweet guy choosing something for his girl, I couldn't make any mistakes, it should be perfect. So I asked him for some kind of lead, what was her style, what did he have in mind/what would he like to get her. And then I showed him what would be good to get for spring, new 'happier' colors than those of the winter collection, what material would be suitable for the weather, etc. To start, I showed him what we had for the spring-summer collection. skirts, capri pants, jeans, some really cool and some really pretty tops. Then he pointed to a pair of capris. Great I thought, we have a starting point! "And her size?" I asked him. "I don't know" he said. The more unsure he was of what he was doing, the sweeter the whole thing was! So we figured out her size, from the body type she had that he descried to me. After looking at what there was of the things he wanted to see, we finally found a pair that he liked. It was a khaki-colored pair of capris, with pockets in the side, and a red hooded top. It was really cute I think, and he basically picked the top out himself, so that's even nicer, coz it's his choice. He got a set of cool, comfy, easy-going clothes for what he painted in my mind to be an easy-going chick. "If she likes it, i'll tell her I picked it, and if she doesn't, ill tell her it was the girl from the store that chose it!" Well, what do you know, he also had a sense of humor!

I took it to the cash register, and gift-wrapped it for im. "I'm going to be late!" He said. It was almost perfect, he went out and bought quite a difficult gift for a guy to get for his girl, 10 points for effort on that one! And then I said to him as I placed the package in a bag, "If all guys got gifts for their girls like you did, there would be many happy girls in the world." And then he said something which I wasn't sure what I would make of, "I hope this one lasts."

Lost in Translation

Everyday gets better and better. I've gotten off the roller coaster I've been on for the past year and a half. The world around me has stopped spinning so fast, the world has ceased to be upside-down, and my feet have finally touched the ground again. I am finally settling into my new life, the 24-years-and-8-months me living 'now' and whats ahead for me. I'm finally in the stage where things around me are familiar already, and I do things regular settled people do, errands, shopping for your daily needs.

I woke up today at 9:30, not too early, not too late. I felt like it was going to be a great day, I've been enjoying work more and I had a nice farewell dinner for one of my work buddies the night before. I got up, had a nice quick shower, put on my favorite skirt, a comfy sweater, and my trusty old boots. The weather was great again, sunny weather with the cool breeze of winter.

I set off to find something i needed to buy for my parent's trip over to see me, and I wasn;t sure if they'd have what I was looking for in this particular store. And great as my day was starting off to be, they had exactly what I wanted, for a price much cheaper than I expected, and it was the last piece waiting for me! I paid for it at the cashier, happy, content, had a little chat with the lady who took my payment, and I headed off to do my next errand, fetchign my computer at a freind's house.

I thought it was perfect that after doing that walk from the house to the mall to buy the inflatable bed I had to buy, there was a tram stop right outside the mall that stopps close to where my friend lives. I hopped in, and settled in a seat nearby, and decided to punch the ticket in in a few moments since my friend's house was still going to be a few more stops away. After less than two minutes of my getting in the tram, and sitting down, a man who worked at a tram with a device for swiping tickets came towards me. I thought, perfect, now I don't have to get up and do it myself. So when it was my turn to give my ticket, he swiped it, and to my surprise, he did it twice. And then the man asked me if it was 'valid'. I said, "Ofcourse, I just used that ticket the night before for the train." and he said, yes, so it says here, but is it valid? "And I said yet it is." Before I knew it, he pulled out a ticket pad and wrote me a notice for a fine to be paid for not paying for my ride at the tram. I asked him why he gave me that for and he said that I was making up stories, that I told him the ticket was 'valid' when in reality the last time I used it was last night and not when I had entered the tram. And then I realized what was going on. What I thought meant 'valid', as in, that the ticket has credit and I can pay for the tram ride, to him meant that it was validado, that I had already paid. And I was telling him I did, when the ticket says I hadn't because in reality, I really hadn't paid. And I was telling him the truth, although the truth to me, was a lie to him, for his understanding of the word. At this point, it was too late. I had been branded as a thief of the tram company, a delinquent citizen, that had a ticket full of credit and for some reason, to them, decided to take a free ride that morning. In the end, the headache cost me 40 euros.

So much for feeling so settled, I thought. I couldn't even understand the meaning of a word that would cost me 40 euros in the end. I was a stranger again at the place that was trying to turn into my home. There I was, trying to help myself whichever way I could in this normal, every day situation (or at least for the 'lucky' ones). And I was helpless, lost in translation.