Goddess, I Am.

And so dewy Iris flew down from the sky on saffron-colored wings, trailing a thousand different colors across the sun… - From Virgil’s Aeneid

Right now I have about a gazillion things going on, and I think I'm dangerously close to reaching my absolute threshold. I was somehow coerced into taking a full-time job that was only supposed to be a part-time one to begin with, and I suffer through a horrendous commute every day that takes up a lot of my time. I also have a full-time online job, as well as a variety of sundry freelance gigs. Along with a friend of mine, I'm getting ready to launch a little business venture. I also have a full-time relationship that I just can't ignore. My stress levels are sky high right now. I'm always exhausted and half hungry. I can't even remember the last time when I had a good night's sleep!

I'm whining, I know, but this is what this blog is for, after all – so I can whine 'till kingdom come. Now, if only I had the following pretties, I probably won't be stressed as much:

1. A 13-inch Macbook. Or at least, one of those teeny-tiny laptops that weigh no more than my copy of Pride and Prejudice. I currently have a year-old, cheap-assed laptop that I hurriedly purchased before I moved to Thailand, and I swear it’s about to die on me any day now. It’s about the size of the Ten Commandments tablet, and probably just as heavy. And though I take it with me whenever I travel, it’s much too bulky and heavy to lug around Silom every day.

Now, with a considerably smaller Macbook (or any tiny laptop, for that matter), taking it with me everywhere won’t be a problem at all. I won’t be idle on those long bus rides because I won’t be too embarrassed to open it (with a flourish) in public. Plus, there’s nothing like a fabulous laptop to inspire inspiration, so I should be churning out words aplenty.

2. A Blackberry. Or, an iPhone. Right now I have a PDA phone that’s quite nifty for Internet browsing. However, it’s one of those poke-the-screen-with-a-flimsy-stylus models, so it’s not exactly ideal for getting work done. I could sure use a fully-loaded Blackberry with a full qwerty keyboard to make my life easier. Or, an iPhone because it’s so pretty.

3. A Shelby Mustang. Or, any car, preferably cute, for that matter. My commute is currently made up of a ride on a songthaew that only shows up whenever it feels like it, a very looooong bus ride, and a quick trip on the sky train where I’m not even allowed to eat my breakfast. I’m already exhausted by the time I get to work, which doesn’t do wonders for my productivity.

My mum bought me an ancient 1983 Ford Laser when I was in college. Despite the fact that it had more problems than George W.’s presidency, I still loved the mobility it gave me – even if it did overheat without warning and leak brake fluid on my foot on a regular basis. It would be nice to have a cute, new car to get around Bangkok in. Of course, I can’t drive on the left side of the road like they do here, and I probably shouldn’t eat my breakfast while I’m driving, so I could sure use a chauffeur, too.

Hey, a girl can dream. Now I’m off to work.

My new job has me helping kids write their college application essays for US universities. These are rich kids with hefty trust funds, yes, but they’re also kids who want to make something out of their lives. It’s fun helping them write their essays because their lives are so incredibly colorful and interesting. Most of them are still about to start their senior year in high school, but they’ve already accomplished so many things that most adults will never be able to achieve in their lifetimes. It made me think about myself in high school and what I was up to, which was pretty much no good. Here’s how my college essays would’ve looked like if I had the same opportunities as they do.

Intellectual Interests Essay:

I like to think of myself as a student of the world, not of the classroom. Because of this self-styled belief, learning in school has never been my ‘thing’. I was too busy trying to stay awake to make heads and tails of the Pythagorean Theorem, or how Magellan got his ass kicked in Mactan. But that is not to say that I didn’t learn anything in high school. Au contraire. If anything, I learned things that were far more valuable than mathematical formulas, or the life of Jose Rizal.

Probably the most important lesson I learned was that I didn’t necessarily need to listen in class to pass my exams. Instead, I just needed to read through my textbooks' table of contents at the very last minute. This technique was so effective, in fact, that I was always the first to submit my test paper for checking. I never got perfect scores, but I never failed either. Sometimes, however, there are isolated cases wherein such a technique is ineffective. In these cases, I found that a teeny-tiny piece of paper and a very fine pencil will come in handy. Of course, it helps to have 20/20 vision.

During my junior year, I went through a phase of enthusiasm for my classes; two, in particular. I loved chemistry class and the incredibly complex experiments that it demanded. These were so complicated, in fact, that me and my friends spent the whole time huddled around a Bunsen burner, having intelligent discussions on the latest news from the Backstreet Boys or Hanson. I also started looking forward to mid-morning Social Studies when the teacher would lock the door and let us do our thing. He had a hernia, you see, and therefore had more important things in his mind than teaching disinterested teenagers the Law of Supply and Demand. That year, I learned the economic differences of having three players in a game of tong-its (a card game) instead of two.

Lastly, I learned that laughing at my English teacher for mispronouncing words was a very good way to get myself sent to the principal’s office, which was almost always empty. I also learned that serving Chinese takeaway in my Home Economics cookfest was likely to give me a reputation of being a very fine cook. Most of all, I learned that I couldn’t reach my toes in Phys.Ed – and I never will.

Describe an experience that shaped you as a person.

During my freshman year, I was chosen to be one of the two representatives of my class for the Miss United Nations ’95 beauty pageant. I won first runner-up – quite a mean feat for someone so young. The Miss UN and I then represented the high school department for the university-wide pageant. I didn’t win. I did, however, catch the audience’s attention after I almost burned another candidate’s traditional Filipino headdress with the traditional Filipino candles that were part of my traditional Filipino ensemble. I was also the youngest contestant to have ever joined that pageant, and I developed a campus queen complex.

A few months later, my class staged a fashion show for our Home Economics class, a very well-attended event. I was the star of the show, appearing in the bridal finale as the bride ‘marrying’ one of my classmates who was transformed from a pimpled adolescent to an over-foundationed groom. I was confident that I would win the ‘Best Model’ award. Much to my surprise and chagrin, however, the award was given to one of my classmates. I had barely left the stage when I started getting hysterical. I was the Miss UN first runner-up and I represented my department in the school-wide pageant, so I should have won Best Model, too!

I was humiliated and inconsolable for days. I only realized later that I humiliated myself even more by reacting that way. I realized that I was a sore loser, and this has shaped me into the person that I am today. I've learned that I shouldn’t let my ego get ahead of myself. I've learned that I should at least appear to be modest - even when I’m not. Most importantly, I've learned never to join a beauty pageant ever again. Of course, it helped that I haven’t grown an inch since.

How can you contribute to the institution’s diversity? Describe a situation where this contribution was applied.

My high school department was tiny; so small, in fact, that we only had one class for each of the four levels. I was my class’ designated songbird. Whenever there was a singing contest, I took center stage. I wasn’t particularly good, but there was no one else courageous enough to volunteer in my stead, so I had to do it.

Without fail, I always placed third out of four contestants – which pretty much meant that I was the second worst singer of the bunch. That was fine, though, because at least I wasn’t the absolute worst. Besides, they gave prizes until third place, so in my four years of high school, I accumulated a healthy collection of staplers and Stabilo Boss highlighters.

My singing days ended soon after when my voice broke for no apparent reason. I now sing in screeches and wails. I could still very much carry a tune, however, and with rather shocking accuracy. Suffice to say, I am one of the best bad singers I know, and I could definitely contribute to the university’s diversity this way. After all, there can only be too many good singers, and even more bad ones. By being a good bad singer, I’m offering your good institution the best of both worlds.

Ahhh, yes. Definitely Harvard or at least Princeton material...if I do say so myself.

No, I haven’t dropped off the face of the earth yet again, and I do intend to write something meaningful soon-ish. For the moment, however, this girl is very, very busy and very, very tired, so this sort of cursory update will have to do for now.

This month has been a very hectic one for me. Sixteen days ago, I took a quick day trip to Cambodia to get a 30-day stamp on my passport. A week later found me and my man in Koh Chang for the mini holiday from hell – one that I’ll have to write about, and soon. And last Wednesday, we were off to Vientiane, Laos for another visa run. That’s way too much land travel, even for this Wander Girl, so I’m quite happy to give my trusty backpack – and my feet - a bit of a rest for at least a couple of months or so.

Work wise, I experienced a bit of a dip on my regular income for the past couple of months, so I had no choice but to take on some additional freelance work. I am still, however, by no means secure, so I decided to also take on a part-time job teaching kids how to write. I’ve only been on the job for a couple of days, but it’s been great so far; and apart from the horrendous commute I have to go through every day, I have no complaints.

So why am I working so hard? Well, apart from the obvious ‘because I can’ answer, it’s because I just can’t be idle. Plus, I’m saving up for a MacBook, so for now, it’s all work, work, and work for me. That is, until I keel over from exhaustion, possibly in the middle of Silom. Now that would be something interesting to write about.

I’m babbling, I know. Must get some sleep.

It’s not a secret that I’m not particularly fond of Thais, even if I do live in their country. In fact, I’ve written a derogatory thing or two about them in the past after having observed (and been involved in) some rather unpleasant situations with these people.

Today, however, is one of those days when I will concede that I might have been a bit too harsh on them. Admittedly, after about a year or so in the country, I have, so far, only been exposed to the absolute dregs of Thai society. These are the barely educated, money-grubbing, trouble-making khlongies that one encounters on the street and in public transport, markets, bars, and even in some of the really upscale malls; the very same ones who can barely speak English and have annoying, whiny voices, and manners and odors so bad that I find myself actually physically sick. It’s no surprise that such limited exposure clouded my judgment of the entire Thai populace, leading me to generalize and criticize to no end. Because of that, I apologize.

“Why this change of heart?”, you might wonder. Well, it’s not really so much a change of heart as a perspective that’s been somewhat broadened - an improved awareness, if you may. Today I found myself acquainted with the other side of Thai society, and the experience was more than pleasurable. I met kids so heartbreakingly bright and smart that they actually had potential oozing out of their pores. These are kids who competitively ride horses and hold patents on machinery they invented – all before the age of 18. These are kids who have already achieved great things and are still aspiring for even greater achievements. Yes, these kids are exactly what the people of Thailand should be, and here’s hoping they’ll grow up to be fine, upstanding citizens and turn this place around. For now, I’m just absolutely thrilled that I can help them in the way that I know best.

I am, by no means, in love with Thai people now. I am, however, starting to think that they may not be so bad after all – ‘may’ being the operative word. We’ll see.

I’ve never been particularly good at relationships. I like to think of myself as relationship-challenged, though really, I’m just dysfunctional.

The longest relationship I’ve ever been in was with my college boyfriend, a guy who I’ve known my entire life. It went on for exactly 2 years to the day, during the course of which I lost my virginity in rather disappointing circumstances. We broke up at least twice a month on average, and both had affairs on the side. I eventually ended it because I basically outgrew him. He is now married to one of my mum’s distant cousins, no kidding.

The second longest relationship I’ve had was with a guy who, to this day, insists that what we had wasn’t a relationship, even if it did last for almost 2 years. He’s right, though. We never did go exclusive because he was, in his words, ‘too selfish’ to have a girlfriend. He did tell me he loved me at some point, and there was never any question that I was crazy about him; hence, probably why it lasted that long, albeit on and off.

Other boyfriends and kind-of boyfriends included a junkie who stole my computer and my money, an American who I was very briefly engaged to, and another who labeled me his ‘conquest (to use a slightly less callous word) 800-something-or-other’, to name a few. Indeed, not only was I dysfunctional, I seemed to attract men who were just as bad, if not worse.

Until now. A year ago today, I started dating a man who ended my life as I knew it, and made it as it is now. We’re neither perfect, nor ideal. Sometimes he does my head in, but I know I do too, probably more. It hasn’t been an easy ride, yes, but it hasn’t been difficult either. Indeed, as far as relationships (for me, or anyone else’s) go, we’re nothing short of idyllic.

My past has had more than its fair share of heartbreaks, but maybe it’s true that everything does happen for a reason. Maybe forcing me to go through all those failed relationships was nature’s way of making sure that I learned from my mistakes. Maybe I was meant to suffer before I got him as a reward. Maybe I had to endure the worst to appreciate the best when it does come. Whatever the reason, it’s irrelevant now. He loves me and I love him, and the life we’re building together is all that matters now. Everything else is water under the bridge. I’ve found my Mr. Darcy and my Mr. Big, that same man that every girl wants - not quite perfect, but close enough. And yes, there’s absolutely no doubt in my mind that I’ll be keeping him for a long, long time.

Happy anniversary, my love. You make me so insanely, ridiculously, and deliriously happy on a regular basis. Do stay. Do stay for good.