Andrew Paul: no, are you?

Juniper: no.

Andrew Paul: what are you doing?

Juniper: Just waiting. what what are you doing?

Andrew Paul: writing you. what are you waiting for?

Juniper: your messages, silly!!

It’s already been three months since the first thought of resigning came to mind. I hate my job. Yea, sure, working in an american owned software company pays all the clothing spree, weekend night outs, fancy lunches, movies, and day trips, but there comes a point when you realized that money can’t buy happiness—in this case, I had to learn it the hard way.

A year ago, I was fresh out from college and decided to get a job in advertising—thinking that it is such a glamorous job—and it is—except when you have to stay overnight to finish a presentation while your bosses lounge on a beach—and it is not the lounging that is the problem, but how they tell your clients that they came up with the brilliant idea for the campaign that you made.

So, I had to let go of that job, and letting it go wasn’t as hard as my bosses then didn’t pay me good anyway. That’s when I ventured into sales, and got into the software company that I’m still working with now. I never wanted to do sales—ever, but then they told me how much I will be earning and I have to admit it blinded my thoughts. How can I resist working salary three times more than I used to earn in my previous job? I just had to take the job—and now, I regret that I did.

Sure, the job is really easy—there is no pressure from clients to finish their campaigns, no overnights in the office to draft a presentation. It’s easy money to just make sure that our clients are taken cared of. It’s basic PR and account management at a hefty salary, so why am I even complaining?

Like I said, I had to learn that money can’t buy happiness the hard way. In the beginning, working for that software company was such a refreshing thing to do, but then I get all sandwiched in all the office politics and drama that I begin to realize it’s not worth it.

It really isn’t worth it when everyday I have to drag myself to work, when everyday, I have to be more fake than an imitation Gucci just to let the day pass without getting into an argument with some stupid people in the office—and believe me when I say I’m not even good at faking.

And speaking of faking, I found out that I hated my job—or at least the people there—more than anything when I start faking the reasons for my absences. I had to come out with the classic excuse of going to my grand parent’s funeral, to the more original I-slipped-on-a-flight-of-stairs-and-now-I-have-bruises-all-over-my-body-therefore-I-can’t-walk excuse. I’ve used it all—dysmenorrhea, migraine, bad colds, cousin’s wedding, family reunion—and I know I am a writer—but I am slowly running out of plots!

It also doesn’t help that the manager I’m working with is the last people you’d like to meet in the world. She is just stupidly crazy. I know that education should never be the sole standard to gauge the ability of someone, but she is the exception! I can’t find meaning as to why someone like her has become the manager when she doesn’t even know what backdrop and layout means. I also hate her for trash talking and backbiting anyone who poses a threat. And she can bully the sales department all she wants but putting her ugly nose in the business of the IT and HR department is just a little too much. 

She keeps blabbering to the big boss how she thinks this one guy from the IT department should be kicked out for only having one programming language expertise—I find it really stupid how she didn’t use that pea brain of hers to realize that that guy is putting in a lot of money in the company because of that single expertise! That girl would also not stop whining about how our HR lady is not doing the best she can to make the employees happy. Recently, I also found out that she’s been telling everyone how I am arrogant, and how I’m always seeking attention—how mature of her. 

She is like unbelievably the cliche-est character in a cheap soap opera, and she’s not even pretty (not that it has any bearing, but I’m just saying.) And she will always say how she thinks I don’t have life skills because I came from a good family. She always says that she had to go through all the hardships of catching frogs and selling it in the market just so she can put dinner on her family’s table. I think it is inspiring to know that someone can come from a poor family and yet succeed majorly in life, but when she tells me that I don’t have life skills because I didn’t go through what she’s gone, then that changes everything.

Since when has catching frogs become the sole standard of life skills?

Pfsh, I can go on for a year and eternity and I still won’t be able to tell you how much I hate her. So let me stop while I still can.

I always think that I’m not really meant to work, I mean, I’d like to think that I am so much more than a nine to five employee. And I keep telling everyone that if I just have a choice, I’d rather be writing my second novel, or even start publishing my first one.

I don’t know what will be in it for me next year, I might have to start the year jobless, or I might try going back to the advertising world, or perhaps I can pursue a writing career. I don’t know for sure, but I have resigned and that is all that matters—for now.

When all these characters sign up to live in a big green house, dramas unfold, the fun and excitement rolls, and surprises never end!

Join me in my day to day note of what is up and about the big green house.

A week ago, I was having an extremely sleepy hour in the office when someone imed me a simple hello. I think I know who he was, I just had to be sure.

And indeed it was Mike—the guy I was constantly chatting with two years ago. I met him before I met my boyfriend, Chris. We were both in Michigan then—I in Lansing, and Mike in Coldwater, but for some reasons, the constant late night chats stopped, and I never heard from him again.

It was a rather nice surprise to hear from him, and we got to talk about how each other’s been the last couple years. I also had the chance to ask him why we stopped talking—something I wanted to know before. He told me it’s because he knew I was already going back to the Philippines. 

That simple hi from a week ago has now turned to constant talking (just like it was two years ago) and there are moments when he can really make my heart flutter with glee—something that shouldn’t be happening considering I have a boyfriend.

I don’t know, it’s just that Mike is lavishing me with too much attention and it is something that I really am craving for. It’s something that Chris cannot give me, and that is one thing that Mike has to offer.

I’m not sure if Mike is just a serial flirt, but I know I’m flirting back when I shouldn’t be. And I never want to have to make an excuse for myself, but who can blame me if my boyfriend would rather light a cigarette stick, or watch Dexter than talk to me?

And it also doesn’t help that it is always a happy, content feeling talking to Mike. We usually talk about what could haves and what might haves—if only he didn’t chicken out, if only he asked me for a simple coffee date, if only we were together—these are just some things that comes right on top of the head, and I have to admit it’s interesting and attractive to talk about things that are unknown.

And then last night, I had a dream of Mike hugging me in bed. It was rather strange that in my dream, I didn’t get to see his face because he was hugging me from behind, but I just knew (both in the dream and when I woke up) that it was him.

I don’t know where this constant flirting is heading, and I don’t know what I should do about it. Maybe I’m just tied up with the idea of what ifs, maybe I just wanted to know what it would have been like to be with him. I don’t know for sure, and I would hate myself for saying this, but I actually want to see how things will turn out.

What happens when you sleep?

Among all the horror movies that I’ve watched (and I tell you it’s only very few because I’d rather watch a summer flick or romantic comedy for that matter,) Paranormal Activity scared the crap out of me. It is a mockumentary that shows the story of a young couple—Katie and Micah—and their battle against the unseen and the unknown. 

I find it interesting, that for a low budgeted film, I got scared as hell, even when the demon, or the bad spirit wasn’t even shown in the entire movie (except for it’s shadow and weird, Big Bird-ish footprints on the floor that happened just once.) While a lot of people keeps comparing it to the Blair Witch Project, I would have to say that this movie is unique on it’s own—it’s nothing too flashy, and there isn’t any special effects at all, except for when Katie was dragged from the bed to the floor, and I think that is exactly why it makes you question the truth behind the supposed film.

I had my doubts, and really had to do my little research to assure myself that it is not real. I had to know that Katie and Micah were just acting and that they did not die in the end (sorry for that itty bit spoiler.) I had to make sure that they are now back to their non-movie star life pushing carts in a grocery store, or buying latte at a Starbucks. See, that’s what the effect of the movie is—it makes you want to wish that it’s just a movie! You wouldn’t want it happening any close to life.

After a couple nights sleeping with the lights on, I think I’m finally going to sleep with the lights off tonight—knowing that Micah and Katie lives.

Chicken and pork barbeque combo at Umma

I’ve dined in numerous Korean restos back in the States—particularly in Omi Udon and Charlie Kang’s that serve the best bulgogi in East Lansing, Michigan. For a year or so, I’ve lived with my Korean friends and have tried a variety of Korean dishes from a simple egg-drop soup, to the more complicated bibimbap—all home cooked! 

Umma’s, in The Fort Strip, however is my first ever attempt to dine at a Korean restaurant in the Philippines. I actually find it a pretty cozy place, what with their wooden chairs that remind me of the tables and chairs during my preschool days. The interior looks similar to the dining room you get to see in just about every Korean drama—not to mention that their flower pieces almost looked real. Their food servers and staff are very friendly—they take time to really explain what’s in it for every dish you ask them. I give them two thumbs up for being very prompt that we don’t even have to do a follow up.

Their menu is also quite impressive and affordable—considering that it is located close to other restaurants that are all too posh and upscale. Their kimchi stew at 220.00 pesos looks promising! At 150.00 pesos, you can already enjoy four sticks of barbeque—a little bland tasting for my palette, but the kimchi complements it well. We also tried their chicken katsu, which I really loved just because it’s fried, but still very moist and tender. The rice served with every meal is just the size of an ice cream scoop so make sure to ask for round two!

I’ve actually had a hard time using the steel chopsticks, and it’s already after I’m done eating that I realized I could have asked for the conventional spoon and fork—but still, it was a great dinner—it reminds me how much I miss my friend’s cooking, it reminds me how much I loved watching Korean dramas, it reminds me just how much I love sit down dinners with friends.

All in all, 3.7 stars.

1. Sobrang sumasakit ang ulo mo everytime malapit ka ng pumasok. Take note, sumasakit lang ito 1 hour before ng work mo!
2. Sumagi na sa isip mo na magpanggap na lang na may amnesia para may valid reason kung bakit absent ka.
3. Naisip mo din na papasok ka sa work pero aarte kang mahihimatay para mag panic sila at pauwiin ka once umarte kang ok ka na.
4. Everyday na lang, sinusumpa mo ang mga katrabaho at wini-wish na sana may gangstah na mag-aabang sa kanila sa kanto.

Aayawan mo talaga ang trabaho kung sa araw-araw na lang ay sasalubungin ka ni Inday Pinay at ni Sosyalistang Sinungaling.

Si Inday Pinay, maiinis ka sa kanya kasi feeling niya ang ganda ganda niya at ang galing galing, e hindi naman. Ang sama ko, pero ni hindi niya man nga lang alam kung ano ang ibig sabihin ng backdrop at layout. Sobra din siya mag trash-talk—tipong sinasabi niya na kesyo hindi magaling si ganito, at kulang sa pansin si ganyan. Siya na ang magaling, ang perfect ang english, ang superstar ng company.

Si Sosyalistang Sinungaling naman, self explanatory na kung bakit ka maiinis sa kanya. Una sa lahat, awa ng diyos di mo kailangang ipagsigawan sa buong mundo na mayaman ka at bueno de familia ang boyfriend mo. Pangalawa sa lahat hindi mo rin kailangan ipagduldulan na nakakakain ka sa Shang, at kung anu-ano pa gayong wala ka man lang ngang ma-i-pambayad ng rent sa condo! At pangatlo sa lahat, bakit kailangan mo pa kasing i-mention na napaka rami mong branded clothes like Donna Karan blah blah blah, e never mo naman sinuot? Ok, isantabi na natin ang to see is to believe, pero utang na loob ‘wag mo naman suotin ang leggings mo at purple jacket every other day! 

Para talaga silang cliche na characters sa isang cheap soap opera—ang kaibahan lang e kahit sa chaka na telenovela maganda pa rin ang kontrabida. Sila talaga parehong malala—ugali at itsura!

PS. This is not a hate blog. Nililinaw ko lang.

Everyday, you make me realize just how stupid I am. And yet everyday I allow myself to be stupid. What is happening to me is really sad. I wish I didn’t meet you in the first place.

“Break ups are very painful and hard, but speaking from my own experience, time really does heal all wounds. you have to have faith that with each day that passes, it WILL get easier, and that these kind of really difficult periods in our life can actually be really good for us in terms of growing and learning and taking the time to reflect on our lives. that being said, they still really and truly do suck! and i would love to talk about it (or not) over lots of drinks on sat!“