Rollercoaster Ride

It’s funny - the night I showed Bobby my career map, I lost it. I swear I couldn’t find it. He asked if that was a sign. (I don’t know if I still believe in signs. I think that’s just another definition for selective memory.)

And though the map has guided me throughout the years, it was never set in stone. Just on paper, where it could be and was altered numerous times. There were check marks, additions and deletions. There was even no mention of writing on the original version.

One of the reasons why I love writing is that there’s not a lot of investments involved. I don’t have to buy markers, fabric or thread - one of the reasons I didn’t like fashion or advertising. Unlike filmmaking, I don’t have to collaborate with a whole crew and adjust to their schedules, commitments and mood swings. I can just stay home peacefully and not spend a penny. My only investments are my thoughts and experiences, and I don’t have to consider receiving $20,000 and think of investing that in production costs.

"Never Eat Alone" defined goals as dreams with a deadline. My personal definition for goals would be dreams in action. In NY, people are always doing something besides their 9-5 job. Something larger than themselves. Something that feeds their passion. Something that will bring them closer to their dreams. Besides the happy hours, social dinners and gym sessions, I’m working on my book on nights and weekends, Bobby’s producing independent films, Rina and Ed are working on their salsa performances, Marc is studying for the GMAT, and a whole bunch of young Filipino professionals are working on CORE. The day and the work don’t end at 5pm. The real fun of work is only beginning. Luckily, we don’t have to account for the 4-hour hi-way traffic when we count our productive hours in our day.

You get a long pause from anyone you ask: "So, what do you do?" And then prepare to hear a whole lot.

It’s strange. I’m only 25, yet I want to retire already. It’s not that I don’t love my job - sometimes I feel like my little corner on Fifth Avenue is exactly where I am meant to be in the world, doing exactly what I’m doing. 

But you’re usually still working for something higher than yourself, and doing things you would otherwise not be doing were you not getting paid for it.But is there actually anyone higher than yourself? I called-in sick last Friday for a very bad sore throat. It hurt to even speak. The thought of a long day and night at work was just too much to bear. And if I didn’t listen to myself and how terrible I felt, who else would? It’s much easier to take it easy on yourself, than to try and find someone to take care of you because you’ve been hard. You know exactly how you feel–whether up for it or down.  I just wish my feelings for Fridays are the same as my sentiments for Mondays. Three years ago, I used to not notice whether it’s a Monday or a Friday. I loved every day.

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Americans spend their whole lives–well they hit 18, or 14, trying to become independent and prove they can stand on their own. They do so until they’re 65. Then they get old, and the need for others, as when they were babies, comes back in full circle. Just when you’ve actually convinced yourself and everyone around you that you can do everything on your own. How can they convince people they’ve left otherwise, when they realize they need more than a cane or a walker? Or a paid nanny in a white room?

I’ve never stood on my own two feet this long–literally and figuratively. Whether it’s waiting for a bus, walking down Madison Avenue, or taking a drink at the bar at The Park. It’s probably one of the reasons why good shoes are very important to New Yorkers. They hold you and stand you firmly on the ground. They should also be light enough for your frequent strolls on air.

How do you update a blog on Friendster, without announcing it to everyone?

Anyway, here’s my latest thought:

As morbid as it may sound, I feel like finding love is as certain as dying. It will come. We just don’t know when and how. We just try to live our lives the best that we can, not knowing when it’ll be. We don’t always think about death, but we know for sure it’ll happen - to everyone of us, independently. Then neither should we wonder when we will meet the one. It will just happen, and we’ll have to live each day to the fullest before then!

And so I say, the only two certain things in the world are love and death. We diplomats are tax-exempt!

Early this year, I learned of the many faces people project for many audiences. But don’t always project. The world is not your photoshoot.

I don’t have a lot of respect for models or for people who want to be models when they think they got the look. Your exteriors are not much of your working, so quit depending on it.

On the other hand, I have a lot of respect for people who could make money off their looks and not have to feed their brain (except maybe to remind themselves to walk tall). I love people who would rather stay behind the scenes, and avoid spotlights and headlines.

I’m turning twenty six in exactly 4 weeks. Geez. But, so much has happened for me in the past eleven months professionally, socially, and geographically. The regular column’s been great, I’ve been to  Europe twice, and have flown somewhere almost every other month. But the best things happened right here in New York. :) 

No doubt about it, throughout the years, I will be looking back on my 25th year with overwhelming gratitude and an undeniable smile on my face.

One of the reasons why I love living in New York, is because not only do I have time in my hands, I hold the compass too. I decide exactly how to spend each minute of my days, and where my foot is going.

Those who know me well know that I have no sense of direction. At all. I’m always lost. I can never grasp the roads of Manila or those of Germany. That’s why I need a driver. I can just sleep in and he’ll take me wherever. That’s not always good.

But in New York, I know exactly where I am and where I’m going. On the road and in my life. I know exactly where I want to go and how to get there. I often get calls from my boys too–when they’re lost in the city, like I’m their compass. That probably says that it is in NY that my life is taking direction…As someone told me in one of my now favorite Tagalog words, ‘Itinalaga’ ako ng Diyos to be in New York . To exactly be on Fifth Avenue and 45th Street at this point in my life.

I can also find my way in London. I gallavanted by myself for several days there and completely enjoyed myself. So I guess I can only live here or there.

I also love aimless travelling, which I decided is the definition of wandering. What I hate is wondering, which is aimless thinking.

I love wandering but hate wondering. I love getting lost on the roads, but I hate getting lost in my thoughts. They both usually happen on the subway - one of the reasons I decided Advertising is not for me. After each class, I would sit on the train and have to think of a clever way to sell rich and hearty soup or Palmolive soap. It’s hard enough have to miss your stop because you’re lost in your thoughts, worse to be lost in work. Which also makes you lost on the map.When you’re in advertising, it’s like you never get off work. You can never say "I’m not working" because your brain is constantly looking for that bright idea. Everything in your environment at every given time is a stimulant.

Postscript: You know that moment when you get off a train, and you pause for a moment, look left and right and get your bearings? I believe that’s how we should lead our lives. No matter where we’re going and how quickly we want to get there, we must once in a while pause, get our bearing, figure out the north, the south , east and west and then decide, so we don’t ever head the wrong way.

Freakin’ roller coaster ride. I lost my stomach ages ago. Probably when I was 22.

Sorry that a notification email was sent to you all about this blog-building. Didn’t mean to!!! Well that’s what I get for clicking away! I guess there’s an assumption anyway that your (first-degree) friends are interested in what you have to think, say and write, right?

Those columns are monthly, the thoughts come daily. And because the drink with the friend won’t transpire ’til Friday, you’ll have to drink with me. Mojitos, anyone? Or Muscat? And then, there’s that post-venting day when you’re either red from laughter or something else.

Turns out, we don’t have to drive all the way down to South Jersey to take a ride. New York is Great Adventure, just in disguise. Covered by streets, taxis and drop-dead-gorgeous men. It has more than Six Flags though. It has 200 - at the UN and in Rockefeller Plaza. Mike was right. Life in NY is just full of ups and downs. You just can’t tell where the tops and bottoms are. The tops could well be on the sidewalk of 45th St., even if the Empire State Building is on 34th St. My knees just went weak. I don’t know what came over me. They just never shook before. And the bottom could well be on a roofdeck on 26th St., even if you’re 50 feet above ground.

I’ve always called it emotional rollercoaster. Just don’t stay at the bottom too long, and try to enjoy the heights as long as you can. And know that you’re not the only one on this ride. Hold your friend’s hand. And then scream Kowabunga!

Went to the Hugo Boss Roofdeck Fashion Party last night. Saw Jason Lewis (Samantha’s Smith Jerrod in Sex and the City), Rosario Dawson and Tommy Lee (well at least B saw him- I couldn’t care less). These hyper-sightings just validated what has been luring in my mind for the past month - that I don’t have an opinion about celebrities anymore. I just don’t care. I think it’s just a waste of time to even spend our thoughts and voices on them. The Toms and Katies of the movieworld could go crazy jumping on sofas or marrying each other and I could say "whatever." If they’re happy, good for them, if they’re going through divorces and those tough times, I’m sorry to hear that–but we all go through that. My thought is that the movie/tv industry is fan-based. The "stars" have to have followers and stalkers, or else they wouldn’t have jobs. Doctors and engineers don’t have to have fans, just clients. Unless that’s what modern marketing books are preaching these days. I have a free People magazine subscription which doesn’t do anything for me at all. I’m not asking for brain- feeding of course, but entertainment at least. Is it because I’ve had more than a regular dose of celebrity exposure, or is it because what’s become surreal now is being six inches away from my dad or brother? My friend Christie and I agreed–Colin Farrell sitting in bed with us at Duvet is much more likely and unsurprising than being back at the beach in Cebu. Or is it because in the past year, I’ve met "regular" people who are ultimately more amazing and brighter than the stars?

Or is it because the real star is right beside me?

I feel that my life is a book and I’m on chapter five. And the plot is thickening. In terms of love, I’ve had a few hits and misses, and like Rob Thomas, I’m beginning to despise another heartache on my list.  For my friends Vanessa, Margarita, Annaliza and I, we all feel that the past two months was the end of an era. I just turned the last page of my chapter this morning. It felt different. Not necessarily good, but I hope it will turn out to be.

I’m crossing my fingers, my toes, my arms, my legs and my eyes. I hope some of you out there are with me.