25 taon

Dalawamput limang taon na ang nakalipas mula nang magtapos ako sa high school. Dahil may ibang gawain, di ako nakapunta sa pagdiriwang. Tiningnan kong muli ang aming yearbook at nakita ang aking isinulat upang ibahagi noong araw ng pagtatapos. Kayrami kong tanong noon. Mga tanong ko pa rin sila hanggang ngayon.


#ThankYouTeachers (Part 2)

This is the second of four parts. You can read the first part here.

Having graduated from a public elementary school, I felt a bit insecure when I first attended a private school for high school. Unlike some of my classmates, I did not speak in English much. Of course we had English classes; I read and wrote in English in grade school. But we did not have any English campaign or anything like that. Fortunately for me, I had not one but three awesome English teachers in high school, two of them even became my homeroom teacher, and one was the school paper adviser.
Mr. Ernesto Alcantara, or Sir Ernie as we fondly call him, was my first and third year English teacher. He was also my first-year homeroom teacher. An epitome of effectivity and efficiency, he is never late to class and is always prepared for lessons. An accountant by profession, he was initially a math teacher, but he turned out to be a pretty brilliant English teacher. He knows all the rules (and I mean each and every rule) of subject-verb agreement, and is excellent at verbal sparring. I learned how to diagram a sentence (S-LV-C, S-IV, S-TV-DO, etc.) from this maestro.
Miss Erlinda Regania was my second year English teacher and moderator of The Bamboo, my high school newsletter of which I was a staffer from second to fourth year. Initially, I found her a bit intimidating, but she would turn out to be my very own Morrie. She would listen to my hopes and dreams, my crazy ideas. She would share her joys and challenges in teaching, and her pride at helping raise her nieces and nephews.
Ma’am Regania was a journalist before she became a teacher, and she has inspired quite a number of students to become writers or editors. I always looked forward to Saturday workshop sessions with her. The newsroom was my sanctuary, especially during the turbulent period in my high school life. Long after high school, I would drop by her place or at school once in a while to catch up with her.
Mrs. Josephine Legaspi was my fourth year homeroom and English teacher. She was also adviser of the theater club of which I have the fondest memories. She has such elegance and grace under pressure.
With these three teachers, I learned the rudiments of English grammar and the beauty of literature in English. I had my first taste of newspaper publication and theater production. They are my teachers who have become my life-long friends.

Memories of summer (and two weeks of spring)

Ah, summer! It has a way of making its presence felt intensely. Makes me want to pack a bag and leave for where the sand is white and fine and the waters cold and clear. Some chilly place with rows of pine trees sounds good too. I am not having the best summer right now, with an impending surgery of a loved one among other things. The heat is messing me a bit but thankfully I have enough memories of awesome summers to help me get through this long hot season.
(1) Namnama Republic. Namnama is Ilocano for hope, and Namnama Republic is what I collectively call the places we went to the summer of 2010. Our homebase was my friends’ place in Agoo, La Union, which I have to say is such a strategic town to live in. In 45 minutes, one can reach the Philippines’ summer capital Baguio City. If one prefers sand and waves, there is San Juan.
(2) Boracay. Sun, sea, sand! Jonas’ fruit shakes!
(3) Baguio. Each of the n times I have been to Baguio was summertime. The first time was for a retreat with the youth group of which I was a member at the time. It was only a year or so after the earthquake that devastated the area, and the place we stayed at was close to Hyatt. We had such fun exchanging scary stories! But what was actually scary was my second time in Baguio. We were on our way home when we had not one but two flat tires. We spent the night on the road, waiting.
(4) Seoul, South Korea. First airplane ride. First overseas trip. First (and hopefully not the last) spring I experienced.

Call for manuscripts: The Perks of Being a Fangirl/boy

Are you an avid sports fan? Do you bleed your favorite team’s color? Or are you a movie fan who will go to great lengths to defend your favorite actor/actress/director/screenwriter against his/her haters? Perhaps you are a music fan who bought multiple copies of your favorite band/artist’s long-awaited debut record to give to your friends. Even if sports, films, or music is not your thing, as long as you count yourself a member of a fandom, we would like to hear from you.
In 1000 words or less, write about the joys and challenges, the highs and lows of being a fangirl/boy.How meeting your sports/film/music/(fill in the blank) hero/es changed your life.How being given a shirt/sunglasses/guitar pick, being dedicated a song to in a mall show, or being tweeted/RTd early in the morning made you feel.Your fandom, your rules.Photos to accompany your piece are more than welcome.
As a token, you’ll get a copy of the ebook The Perks of Being a Fangirl/Fanboy to share with your family and friends and a gift from Kenshin no Kaori. Email your submission to fangirlperks@gmail.com on or before May 1, 2013, 12 pm Philippine Standard Time.

PS: Yes, I am back at blogging/writing 🙂


Sino'ng OC? Hindi ako OC ha!
My old work station

Since joining the company in January 2006, we have moved offices twice, but that is considering the whole division and not just myself. I have moved work stations at least six times.

I admire people who can stay at least 10 years in one workplace. I have friends who still work with the companies they have joined since graduation from university. I wish I have the same kind of tenacity. The longest I have stayed in a company is 35 months. (I count in months to make it sound like I have worked there all my life.) 

I am restless again. Is it time to move?