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A Brave New World

How time flies! It’s been almost six months since I made the big leap and turned my world upside down. Leaving a stable job and a comfy existence, I slingshot myself halfway across the world to Germany to finally be in the same timezone with the man of my dreams.

As you can imagine someone who was raised in a (very noisy) household of seven strong women, I was always taught to always flaunt my smarts and my strengths, no matter what anyone else thought. Of course, this giant shift from career woman to penniless student for me was not without doubts and scolding from my own subconscious. I thought, however, I would be holding back  a part of me, a part of me whose strengths I have yet to uncover, if I didn’t make this jump.

And so I leaped, and so far, no regrets.  Continue reading A Brave New World

Chatty-chat-chat

Since everyone is talking about the looming doomsday anyway, if I could, I would fill my last days with endless conversations — meaningful, gibberish, small talk, profound, I welcome them all. Yes, it departs from my usual repertoire of play-run-play-til-I-die, but the art of conversation holds within it a healing power.

Isn’t it great that as a species, we have long carried the tradition of storytelling without actually giving it any thought? That in bouts, we can actually agree to disagree? That we never tire of recounting old memories, laughing at them as if they happened yesterday?

On providence

God provides — this, despite all jadedness, I still believe.

There is a prerequisite though — you must not only be willing to work for it, but in order for blessings to reach you, you must pave the road by which it comes with your own two hands.

I’ve been in situations wherein I toiled my ass off, yet the fruits of my labor have yet to manifest themselves. Similarly, I’ve been in situations wherein the toil has been worth it — sometimes the rewards were even more than expected. There is added satisfaction in reaping rewards that are deserved.

But I’ve rarely seen situations wherein blessings were provided without having to do anything. I admit, it’s possible that these things have actually happened. But to depend on chance, to actually believe that you are privileged to be endowed with miracles, is to me, nothing but folly.

Speaking of documenting…

Warning: Uber-vain post ahead.

I've always wanted highlights...

Only in this crazy-wonderful-Net-frantic world do some websites come into your life and leave a dent. Yes, some will just intentionally waste your time, but well, there are a few sites that I’m thankful I stumbled upon. I remember running across this page which featured an ingenious family’s take on annual family portraits (check it out at http://zonezero.com/magazine/essays/diegotime/time.html) — each year they take id photos of themselves and now they have 30 years’ worth of photos/hairstyles to reminisce. This got me thinking, ‘why don’t I do the same and have a photo shoot every year on my birthday?’. What did I tell you — uber-vain, right?

I bought the first discounted photo-shoot package I saw on one of my beloved voucher sites, but I never got around to taking the shoot during my last birthday. The new year rolled around, and I didn’t get to book either. Finally, on this characteristically lazy weekend, I decided to haul my butt off the couch and finally get that shoot done.

What I didn’t expect was how fun it would be. It brought me back to the grade-school/high-school days when digital cams were yet unheard of, and trips to Galleria meant movie+lunch+neoprint+studiopic shoot. I remember cringing at my smile whenever we got the prints from the studio, but today at DeCharacter Image’s studio (it’s located on Purvis St. near Raffles Hotel), Dana (the stylist — sashyaaaal…) and Kyaw (the photographer. I repeat — sashyaaaal…) put me in so much ease that I only remembered how awkward a shoot should be after the shoot. So kudos, Dana & Kyaw! 🙂

If you’ve read up to here and you’re not puking yet, you may want to check out the other pics from the shoot — https://picasaweb.google.com/ishgagno/201102Me# .

(If my sisters are reading this — since Ondoy washed most of our childhood pics away and we literally are oceans apart now, what do you say to making our own yearly timeline? It’ll be fun to show it to our kids 30 years from now. 🙂 Let’s have it every Christmas, what do you guys think?)

Leaving Traces

John Lennon said that life is what happens when you’re busy making other plans. I say that this adage can be tailored a bit to suit our generation — life now is what happens when you were too busy documenting it.

A few people realize it, but we live in a time wherein people do have a fixation of documenting even the tiniest bits of our lives. More likely than not, once or twice you’ve found yourself overwhelmed by the volume of pictures and videos that you have yet to upload. Maybe once or twice, you’ve given into posting how excited you were that day, how yummy the snack you had was, or perhaps even (eep!) how bored you currently are (I have yet to figure out this phenomenon). Perhaps it’s due to the deluge of mediums and tools we have today to do so.  Could you imagine if they had WordPress, Flickr, Facebook or Twitter back then? Maybe we would have found Balagtas’ blog to be more interesting than Rizal’s. Maybe the revolt wouldn’t have taken place because Bonifacio and Aguinaldo were too busy having a tweet-war. Shakespeare could have one less masterpiece, because he was too busy maintaining his blog to actually publish another poem. Maybe — just maybe — we could ‘follow’ Jesus and find out what He would actually do. Think about it — how many unsung heroes would we have known if only they could have just left their traces just as we could today?

Maybe that’s just it — at a day and age when almost everything but peace is ubiquitous, perhaps we just have a fear of being obscure. Maybe it’s our silent shout that we want to be recognized and appreciated for who we are, instead of having others describe you through eulogies when it’s too late. Or maybe we just had nothing else better to do at that moment.

And here I am, mocking my own generation while blogging. Kidding aside, I hope that at the end of my days, I can look back and honestly say for each entry here, ‘I’m glad I blogged that.’