10/2005 - Missing Finally
August 2005 marked my 8th month of unemployment here in the US – my 8th month of having panis na laway from lack of daily interaction with any friend or family close to me who is not from Nino’s circle. That, among other issues, bit me hard in the (big) ass. I was falling apart.
I slipped into depression, heightened mostly by PMS, but brought about by real reasons I could no longer ignore, not just my joblessness. Nothing was falling into place. Yet.
I had no friends aside from Nino, who, despite being my husband and my best friend, can only be so much. He is, after all, just one person.
I needed my girlfriends, mama and sis included. I needed somebody to lend me an evening bag for my dress and a nice pair of earrings; someone to help me with my hair that badly needed a haircut (record-breaking long hair ito!) and I needed to know where best to have a haircut to get every penny’s worth from my $30; somebody to buy make-up with me, because I had no idea what looked best on me. I needed to just talk about the most recent chismis and our most serious thoughts in one night. I needed a dinner out, a foot spa, a massage and a simple hang-out-at-myke’s-condo moment. All of which I did not have yet.
I was not earning money to buy me my own shoes, clothes and other wants. Not that Nino wasn’t willing to buy them for me. I just wasn’t used to asking for money from anybody, so I had difficulty asking for shoes, unless I badly needed it. Actually, I did badly need it. I AM a girl, remember? But I didn’t really expect Nino to understand that.
We live in a studio apartment for one person. Naturally, the apartment’s single-closet and storage space were not enough for both of us, small as we were and tiny as my clothes were. I was frustrated each time I cooked in that little, little, little (can’t emphasize little enough) kitchen. We needed to move to a house, a condo, somewhere with a bedroom and enough closet space to put in shoes and clothes I wanted to buy. Kaya di ako makabili ng damit, there was no more space left to put it.
We were planning to have our church wedding by February 06 in the PH. August na. It seemed totally impossible to plan a long-distance wedding in 5 months, at least not the wedding we both wanted. Besides, we did not have the funds we wanted, so could not make concrete wedding plans yet.
Our real estate business was bleak – not one deal. One deal would have funded a lot of our plans, including moving into the suburbs and coming home to pinas for our wedding. But I was too tired to handle all the stress on my own. I quit. Nino took over, but still no deal yet. YET.
Lecheng YET yan. I know it’s yet’s nature to remain uncertain for indefinitely, that was why I hated it. It caused me to feel like everything will remain a YET.
Eventually, I had to learn to be patient, but not before falling down so low. Ngumangawa ako sa Diyos araw-araw. “Lord, kelan ba kasi? Sige na nga bahala Ka na. Pero naman, kahit isa lang naman sa mga kelangan ko, penge po, please!”
Pagka nga naman humingi ka, magbibigay Siya. He answered my prayers with a part-time job that brought me a pinay friend who speaks Tagalog with me in the office and who is just as, if not more, kikay as me; a FREE haircut from a salon modeling class (bonga si Lord, ayaw niya ng basta alam ko where to get a haircut, dapat libre!); mystery-shopping assignments and other people and so many other blessings He sent me throughout the next months.
I don’t really know when all my yet’s will turn to finally’s, but I guess I can wait. That attitude (and my period) took me out of depression, along with the realization that my plans don’t have to fall into place yet. Maybe sometime soon or not so soon. I’m ok.
10/2005 My $80 Haircut
I finally had my first haircut here in the US – an $80 haircut at one of the renowned NYC Salons, Bumble and Bumble – for FREE!
That’s right, FREE! That was because I was part of the Bb U (Bumble and Bumble University, not Binibining Universe hehehe!) Model Project. I was a hair model.
Dahil gusto kong masulit ang $30 ko, (which is the typical cost for a haircut with styling here), I didn’t just go to any salon. Because I had no girlfriend to recommend a good salon to me (much to my depression), I did my research on the best and biggest library there is (the internet).
That’s when I found Bumble and Bumble. I signed up online, told them about my hair type and after personally showing up at the salon, scheduled a haircut appointment about a month later. That day, I officially became a hair model for their “Long Layer Razor Class.”
On the day of my appointment, I learned that the stylists cutting our (marami kaming “models”) hair were professional stylists from all over the US who come to New York to train at the BbU. I had no worries about them messing up my hair, also because my stylist and I agreed on the length and style of my haircut and their mentors were there every step of the way.
The session lasted for about 2 hours. End result: happy! Ang ganda ng gupit ko eh! What’s more, libre! I didn’t even have to tip because as the cashier said, we’re doing the stylists a favor by allowing them to practice with our hair.
Bonga talaga si Lord – he did not just grant me a good haircut, but a free haircut FOREVER, or until I’m here in NYC and a hair model of the BbU. That’s a good $80 value every 2 months!
To Leave or Not To Leave
That is probably the question you ask yourself each time you watch the news if you’re like a lot of Pinoys on the verge of giving-up on the Philippines.
“Wala nang pag-asa dito! Ayoko na dito! Bulok! Walang kwenta! Wala nang mangyayari sa Pinas!”
With these thoughts in your head, you start planning your escape to the land of anywhere-but-the-Philippines.
But before you start emptying your life savings and investing all your time and effort into applying for a visa or looking for a job abroad, ask yourself, what are your real reasons for wanting to work or live in another country?
“I want to earn more money.”
Think about this: Will your sacrifice and everything else you will give up really be worth the money you will earn?
If you can’t eat at least 3 times a day, put your children to good schools and buy your basic necessities, then the answer to that must be a big YES. If that sacrifice is what it takes for you and them to at least get your stomachs full, get schooled and have at least a few wants realized, then by all means, get out of the country, specially if you have no other source of income outside of your only job, like money from other businesses, transactions or services (by that I don’t mean monkey business, illegal transactions and “special” services. kayo talaga o).
But, if you’re earning well (which, by my definition is that you are fed, clothed and have enough for a foot spa or a new cellphone every now and then), will more money be worth all your sacrifice? Will more money be worth all the pain of leaving home, the homesickness you are bound to feel and all your adjustments in a foreign land? Will more money be worth missing your barkada’s grand reunion, your best friend’s wedding, the birth of your first pamangkin and all other milestones of family and friends that you will fail to witness? And not just the milestones, but missing everyday not-so-special moments, too?
If you think making yourself money in another country so that you are rich by retirement is worth all the years of sacrificing and missing out on special moments each day, week, month and year you are away, then go.
“The government is so corrupt and there’s too much political chaos.”
If you thought that political mess exists only in the Philippines, then you are living in a pessimistic bubble. The same politicking happens even outside of your country, fyi. You just don’t know about it in the same degree that you know about your country’s politicking, obviously because the media you have naturally concentrates on Philippine politics, unless they have big news like Bush is People-Powered.
You may say, “But the Philippines ranks among the highest in corruption!” Sure. It’s a sad fact, also because we ourselves as ordinary citizens have been corrupt at one time or another in our own country (aminin! Think: lagay). But that’s another point altogether, deserving of another blog entry kaya next time ko na lang idi-discuss yun.
The fact that we are one of the most corrupt countries doesn’t mean corruption doesn’t exist in other countries as well. Corruption is universal, just as universal as greedy human nature is, wherever you are. It’s the same banana, baby. Isipin mo, sa ibang bansa nga, ninanakaw rin naman ang pera mo kahit na dayuhan ka. Which brings me to another point.
You think your country’s government doesn’t treat you the way you deserve to be treated. Do you honestly think a foreign government will give more importance to you, a foreigner in their land? Don’t kid yourself that discrimination is already dead nowadays. It is SO not. It is as real as J Lo’s song whether you like to admit it or not. So what makes you think you will be given priority over a native or citizen of that foreign country?
And lastly, is the government circus the end-all and be-all of your life? Do you breathe and live for Gloria and all the monkeys seated in power? Undeniably, whatever they do up there makes a huge impact on everybody’s lifestyle, but being the resilient Filipino that you are, I’m pretty sure you can work around whatever boo-boo’s, failures and stupid decisions the government makes (again) as you always have. Then you’re going to say this…
“Wala nang future ang Pilipinas and ang family (or magiging family) ko.”
Are you sure to have that future you see for you and your family in a foreign country? What is your definition of “future” in the first place? Is it just your financial stability, or does that include your children’s and grandchildren’s upbringing? Living in a foreign culture with a totally different set of values is a true challenge for Filipino parents who want to raise their kids with Filipino principles and beliefs. Is your children’s future really secure in another country only because you are financially secure? What if they totally embrace foreign values and beliefs which largely influence their decisions for their own future, one you might not approve of? Would that still be the picture of a future you imagine living outside of your country?
“I will leave my children in the Philippines,” you might say. It goes back to topic #1. The answer will then be “yes, it is worth the sacrifice to leave my country for the future of my children.” But then ask yourself this: how sure are you that your children will have the future you have in mind for them, without you present to instill in them your principles and values that will enable them to make decisions to give themselves the future you want for them?
I guess all I’m saying is this: whether you decide to stay in the Philippines or live in another country for any reason, there will always be pros and cons, perks and challenges, joys and pains. Don’t just think of the “in the end” part of your decision (retirement or your children’s future) but also the journey you will have to take to get to the “in the end”. The pros, perks and joys have to outweigh the cons, challenges and pains for your decision to be worth it. Remember that before you go running away from the country that just might have been best for you.
10/2005 Oooh, Spy
I’m a spy.
Not exactly someone who goes on dangerous assignments, but I do get assignments undercover – as a mystery shopper.
I signed up with several mystery shopping companies hired by other companies to do their customer service or market research. These mystery shopping companies give us assignments which can accept or decline if the locations and/or schedules don’t work for us.
On an assignment, I come in to the store posing as an ordinary customer. I must be discreet with observing the place, otherwise I’ll look suspicious and my ordinary-customer-undercover will be blown. I ask questions, make a purchase, report my observations and shopping experience to the mystery shopping company, get paid for it and get reimbursed for what I purchased up to a certain amount.
O diba, ang saya!
But it’s not all that easy. I have to remember everything I need to observe or the exact scenario I should create on the sales floor. And because I can’t be seen making notes, I either have to make mental notes, or run to the nearest restroom or fitting room. Then after the shop, I write every detail of my shopping experience in a grammatically correct, spelling-error-free report via the company’s online report forms within 12 hours.
It doesn’t pay a lot either. Shops range from $7-20, depending on time spent to shop and difficulty. Sometimes they only reimburse the purchase, no other pay.
In any case, it is a fun thing to do – to observe discreetly, shop and get paid for it. Makes me feel like a real spy. Now all I need is that earpiece...
09/2005 - Kingda Ka
http://www.sixflags.com/parks/greatadventure/Rides/KingdaKa.html 
The ride was unbelievable.
0 to 128 mph in 3.5 seconds.
Up 458 feet in a vertical 90 degree climb.
Plunge vertically into a 270-degree spiral.
All in 50 seconds.
Unexplainable thrill.
I was breathless - from screaming my lungs out through the entire ride, and from the experience of the ultimate adrenalin rush.
This is my kind of ride. I shall return!
07/2005 - Horror House
Nino and I went to our first ever “ugly house” visit last July. With the investment strategy we were planning, we thought this might get us our first P1M. Woohoo! Exciting!
But before we started counted our chickens, we wanted to see if the eggs were worth counting to begin with – look at the house in person to estimate repairs exactly how we were taught in that million-dollar real estate boot camp. They said, the uglier the house (with some qualifiers on being UGLY), the better “rehab” candidate it is. We knew this was ugly from the pictures, so we were excited to see it, but we were not prepared for what we were about to see.
The house itself was not very ugly from outside, but because it was vacant with overgrown weeds engulfing its front yard and because of its unusual layout, it looked like a looming house straight from a horror movie, with its normalness being swallowed away slowly by the setting sun.
As we were walking towards the house, I knew Nino and I had the same thing going on in our head. We both just did not acknowledge that thought to ourselves and to each other. “Why did we think of going to a vacant, worn-down, ugly house at night?” But because we drove 1 1/2 hours just to get here, we lied to ourselves, pretended to be brave, took the key and weaseled our way through the lawn jungle towards the front door.
On my way to the front door, I looked up and noticed that the 2nd floor windows still had curtains – BIG MISTAKE. Now my imagination started to see a lady draw the curtains… Eeek! Get back! But no, we can’t turn back now. Don’t waste the gas, Mel. Shake it off. Breathe. Inhale, (ugh, smelled like old grass), exhale.
I tried the key on the front door. It won’t open. I asked Nino to try it. It still won’t. So we walked to the other door in sight, which I presumed was a kitchen door. Beside it were big windows with no curtains, showing only complete darkness inside. I tried hard not to look, else my imagination would get the best of me. But Nino peered into it holding the flashlight inside. I was screaming in my head, “Don’t look inside, baka may sumulpot!” because I knew that saying that aloud might trigger his imagination like mine, so I pretended I was not bothered at all.
The key still did not work. After calling the realtor, we learned that it was for the front door, so Nino and I walked back to it. Complete with creepy screen-door-creaking effect, the key finally worked.
It opened to a mold-scented house that seemed to have been built for Mahal and family if she married Dagul. It had ceilings below 7 feet and beyond the front door was a very small foyer. As it if was not enough trying to muster courage to open the front door, there was yet another door to open.
I went ahead and opened it, to reveal a dark, cramped space, supposedly for a “living room” that could not have been lived-in by someone even my size. Imagination just won’t leave me be, because it fed me images of what could have been this 50-year-old house’s history. The darkness inside was no help at all – there was no electricity and Nino’s flashlight added more to the creepy feel.
At this point, my heart began pumping louder, because I had to take a picture with a digital camera. I pointed the camera to the darkness, seeing nothing from the
LCD display, until the flash worked to record the image in front of me. Suddenly, Sadako standing at the corner flashed on the LCD display, care of my imagination. Nino and I were already trying to laugh at the whole Amityville-ish/Blair-Witch-Project-ish scene in front of us, but no amount of laughter worked up our courage to proceed to the next dark room showing the foot of a staircase. NO WAY were we going in there.
We ended up going back the next bright, sunny morning.
My realizations:
1. I’m still not over Sadako.
2. Nino and I are not a good ghostbuster team – we will outrun each other away from the ghost.
3. Never go to a vacant, ugly house alone with an equally scared husband at night.
4. Never watch horror movies of haunted houses again.
