Just Like Stage Fright

I remember when I was in fourth grade and I was chosen to be the angel in the Christmas play. My line was simple, I still remember it clearly. “Rejoice, for unto us a child is born.” But on the day of the show, I didn’t expect to see a crowd of parents and families to be watching, that I froze the moment I walked on stage. I don’t remember how I got through that afternoon. I may have even ran to backstage and then out on centre stage again. All I know is that that was the last time I ever tried theatre. 

I get stage fright. I do. Even at things I know I’m exceptionally good at. There was a Math contest at sixth grade when I froze at an easy question. I knew the answer but as soon as I looked at the audience my mind stalled. I get stage fright. Just like today. I’m meeting my blog coach outside of the confines of the workshop for the very first time, on a one-on-one basis, to explore the possibilities of the world wide web of blogging. It’s not exactly my first time at blogging. There was Friendster, then Multiply and my current one, in Blogger. But those were different, more personal, more like a virtual notebook. No one necessarily read that, no one unless I gave out the link. No one that I know personally, at least. 

But now it’s different, because now I want an audience. I need to be heard. Because I feel like I have something to say. See but what if, just like theatre, no one shows up on opening  night? That’s what scares me. What if no one wants to listen? What if my story isn’t really worth telling?

My Top 5 NYC Movies

I can’t believe that January is almost over. I’m still suffering from a New York City hangover after spending the last week of 2013 in The Big Apple. Does anyone even use that nickname for the city these days?

Walking in the streets of Manhattan, I keep running into ghosts of New York past. Memories from trips of long ago. When was my first NY visit, was it 1977 or 1978 or 1979? Can you believe that I actually watched the very first original cast of Little Orphan Annie in Broadway? I went up the Empire State as a child. I also rode the bullet elevators of the World Trade Center back when it was still the tallest building(s) in the world; and yes back when the towers were still standing. 

The romantic in me had memories from my lost childhood interweaving with memories from movie scenes with recognizable NY landmarks come flooding back into my consciousness. Even my carryon bag still has items from past visits, like a pin from The Metropolitan Museum, a ticket from the Museum of Natural History, a sticker that says I heart NY. Why do I even keep these things? Maybe it’s because--I heart NY. All these years that I visit, I take home a little part of NYC and leave behind a little memory in some forgotten corner. Memories that haunted me in this latest visit.

So this made me think about my most favorite NY movies. There are countless movies written and produced about New York because the city that never sleeps attracts the most romantic of dreamers and writers. With much difficulty, I trimmed down my favorites into these 5 movies:

5th. The Thomas Crown Affair (1999)

The Pierce Brosnan and Renee Russo remake. I haven’t watched the original 1968 version nor do I intend to. I have been a Brosnan fan ever since the days of Remington Steele. He plays the perfect rich, spoiled gentleman that you wouldn’t think he was capable of any crime. Yet he was as arrogant as he was smart that you want to hate him so much but end up so drawn to him just as much as Russo’s character was.

My favorite NY scene from the movie is the moment he poses at the entrance of The Met and twirls so that he is in full view of all the surveillance cameras before he performs the perfectly staged diversionary tactic I have seen on the silver screen. If you love art as much as I do, you would enjoy all the artwork references in this movie. For each visit, I make time to visit a museum or an art gallery. However, even outdoors, the streets of NY are dotted with art.  

4th. An Affair To Remember (1957)

A Classic with Cary Grant and Deborah Kerr. I watched both the original and the remake versions of this movie. I prefer the original movie. Maybe because the references made to it in the movie Sleepless in Seattle make you want to love it even more as the characters of Meg Ryan and Rosie O’Donnell reenact scenes in tears. Why do women (myself included) cry so easily from watching Hallmark TV ads to movie scenes watched one hundred times over? 

My favorite NY scene from this movie comes from the last scene when Nickie clues into what really happened that fateful day when he and Terrie were supposed to meet at the top of the Empire State Building. Terry says, “Oh, it's nobody's fault but my own! I was looking up... it was the nearest thing to heaven! You were there...” She trails off breathlessly.

I’m afraid to admit that this rings true for me. For wherever my love walks and breaths, I find that that is where I am at home, at peace.

3rd. One Fine Day (1996)

This George Clooney and Michelle Pfeiffer movie takes place in one hectic day all over NYC that you can’t help wanting to see all those places. George Clooney’s Jack Taylor, in all his cuteness, doesn’t make a good impression on the feminist Michelle Pfeiffer’s Melanie Parker. Both single parents forced to tow their kids to work when the kids miss to join their kindergarten class on a field trip for the day. 

My favorite NY scene from the movie is when Jack lifts Melanie in an act of chivalry as they come across a huge puddle at the Bethesda Terrace as they ran across Central Park to catch the kids’ soccer game. I first fell in love with The Angel of the Waters at the Bethesda Terrace when I saw her in this movie. It was designed by Emma Stebbins as the first commissioned work in NY. The angel was unveiled way back in 1873. 

I finally viewed her for the very first time on January 1, 2014. I did a many firsts on the first day of this year. The angel could very well be my lucky charm. 

2nd. Definitely, Maybe (2008)

For the most part, this movie stars Ryan Reynolds and Abigail Breslin. Reynolds is a newly-single dad who is served divorce papers at the beginning of the movie. The premise in itself is romantic as Will Hayes (dad) recounts his love stories to his 10-year-old daughter, Maya, in the hopes of making her understand how love becomes complicated as people get older.

My favorite NY scene is in Central Park (again) just outside The Zoo.

[Maya and Sarah are walking away, Maya turns around]

Maya Hayes: Dad!

[Will turns around, Maya runs to him, Will kneels]

Maya Hayes: Thanks for telling me the story.

Will Hayes: You're welcome. I didn't tell you the happy ending.

Maya Hayes: [getting teary] What is it?

Will Hayes: You.

I love this movie because I secretly wish I am April to my Will Hayes. I secretly wish for the same happy ending to my almost 10 year old (and counting) love story. I am the umm-friend, the constant, the one always passed up for the prettier, classier chick. Sigh.

1st. Serendipity (2001)

This movie tops my list. I know the movie plot is a stretch as far as storytelling goes. But the visuals and the soundtrack of this movie makes the opening scenes my cookie-cutter NYC perfect day. John Cusack and Kate Beckinsale meet serendipitously at Bloomingdale’s before Christmas. Two separate lives intersect and after that day, they are flung apart to live their lives, each wondering if they have missed something. 

In 2007, my girl-friends and I went to Serendipity and tried the Frozen Hot Chocolate that Jon and Sara had on that “first date.” Following that scene, Jon and Sara decided to go ice skating at Wollman Rink in Central Park as it started snowing in the background.

My favorite NY scene? At the said rink when Jon and Sara were playing Q&A, Sara asks Jon, “Um, favorite New York moment?” Jon answers, “This one’s climbing the charts.”

The movie ends at the same spot. As it starts snowing in Spring, Jon and Sara meet formally for the first time since their fated day.  

On New Year’s Eve of 2013, I experienced a similar scene from out of a movie. Skating rink, snow softly falling, skates, a cute guy and a hand to hold. It was a perfect New York moment of my own.

What's your top 5 NYC movie list?


Photo credits: Harry Corro, January 2014

Non-negotiables

I drafted a list of non-negotiables a few years back to help me find Mr Right. I found a printed copy folded neatly in between the pages of a book as I was looking for something else that I have misplaced. Here's the list for posterity's sake. Not that I think it would help anyone, since I'm still unmarried. That's not to say I haven't found the person who checks all the items in the list; in fact, Someone does check on almost all except for one. I won't take away from the original list, just add a few words to explain my point back then. 

The List

1. Must have love, lots of it; both of us in large amounts. Love for self. Love for the other. Love for Life!

2. Must not have previous marriage or children or live-in partner. The biggest secret is that I'm a very jealous person. 

3. Must fear God, must have some sort of faith, such as going to church and praying, and loving God's creations. 

4. Must be an artist (in one way or another). 

5. Must be in Canada. 

6. Must be smart and have an education to prove it.

7. Must think I'm the best creation on Earth. 

8. Must love to travel and know how to get enraptured while travelling. 

9. Must listen when I need to talk. 

10. Must accept that I'm a writer. 

11. Must know when to leave me alone (or when not to leave me alone). 

12. Must love to make love. 

Number 5 is the only negotiable item at the moment. Primarily because even I keep moving around. Though home is Canada, family obligations have lead me back to my childhood city. But my heart knows only one thing -- that home is where he is, wherever that may be. 

Choose To Live

The journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step. -Lao Tzu

So I have been holding my breath. Waiting for imminent disaster to strike. 

Thinking a little less of myself everyday for chances not taken.

For words left unsaid.

But today, I see how the present makes up for the past

How the future is anybody's gamble. 

Today I choose to live. 

I will brand each day with my own mark.

I speak with my words, not the ones that I think should please others. 

I believe in my dreams. 

I believe in others's dreams because it is in togetherness 

that we will create a better world.

Starting Over

Theoretically, writing should just be like riding a bike. But I doubt that my muse will be easily forgiving. I have neglected him so for quite sometime. In my effort to find a balance that would make everyone happy, I have forgotten to consider the things that make me happy. I was supposed to trim and simplify my life a few years back, yet I only managed to complicate it even further by creating a word-tree of justifications as to where I am now.

And where is that? Back to the very beginning. I remember quite well the day I talked to my very first boss as I handed in my resignation from my very first job. I asked her if she believed that everyone had a calling. My reason for leaving the most ideal job situation I would ever have in the next twenty years was to respond to my calling. A voice inside of me that told me that it was somewhere out there, the way to make the world a little better using the unique brand that makes me who I am.

But I was the lion without courage then. I thought I had to prove myself by working to make a living. My adopted mother kept reminding me as I was growing up that I had a brain and I had the responsibility to use it. I felt my writing was a cop out. Every single time I got lost in my world as I wrote, I felt like I was retreating in a world that only I knew. It seemed self-serving. How could something good and productive come out of that? I was young, I was ideal and naïve.

So I decided to live in that real world of adults, the world of fancy business attires and unsmiling faces. I chased deadlines, conformed to budgets and challenged company policies. The entire time I was pretending to be someone else and becoming angrier by the day. Blaming only myself for being caught up in ambitions and materialism. Was I making a difference? Did I make someone's day brighter? At the end of the day, I was spent. Every payday, after bills were paid, I asked myself, who have I become?

In the race to the finish, I had neglected relationships most of all. I told myself that my family would understand if I had to skip this dinner or that birthday. I told myself that connections were hindrances, that commitments only slowed me down. Then one day, I woke up. The day after my biological parents celebrated their fiftieth wedding anniversary, I looked at myself in the mirror and asked myself, What did I have to show for it? If I haven't loved, then who am I?

Was life really meant to be this empty?

Twenty years and here I am with one bold truth to tell: that work-life balance that I have been chasing all this time is a myth. In the last week of November, I sent my boss my resignation letter from my last job via email. I was hoping to hand it in personally but timing didn't work out well enough for me to do that. My job was in Canada and I have been staying in Manila for over four months now. It feels like there is a finality to it. The end to my corporate life.

I worry that I will backslide to the easy life of regular paychecks. I worry that I will try to find regular employment where I can pretend to be brilliant, awesome and amazing! as I often become. I am a chameleon, The Pretender like that tv series from the late 90s, able to easily adjust and shine in a new role.

So I need to remind myself that this is my time to chase my dreams, to follow my own path, for which the only guiding map is my own heart.  I need to find the voice I have been neglecting. I need to listen to that voice and write. 

Sliding Doors

Just like in the movie of the same title, do you ever wonder how life is turning out in your parallel universe? I have long given up normal. Since I was a college student in UP Diliman, I have been fully aware of the duality of my personality. Here or there? Economics or Creative Writing? Staying or migrating? Him? or him?

Along the way, I have made decisions, based on the binary code. 1 or 0. On or off. This or that. Forward always forward. Always choosing the more complicated option. Why did I choose to make life more complicated? Because just like the book Choose Your Own Adventure, I thought you could always flip back to the crossroad if you didn't like the outcome. But in life, I learned, there was no flipping back. It was forward, always forward. It wasn't quite like the labyrinth wherein you could retrace your steps and find the right way out.

Numbers were always my comfort zone. I can recall the exact moment I was allowed by my parents to travel from Manila to Toronto all by myself. I was a senior in high school then and for reading material in the plane, I brought my College Algebra textbook. I love traveling but I hate airports. I think they are the loneliest of places in the world. Why do I always have to go, why am I always the one leaving? When there were no answers, math made sense. No matter how simple or complex your steps were in coming up with the solution, the answer never changed. One plus one will always be two.

When I was a college freshman, my Math 11 professor had marked one of my answers wrong because I had no solution. She couldn't believe I got the correct answer my own way. She had accused me of copying from someone else. I who never let anyone copy from my bluebook. Who wrote microscopically that anyone who even wanted to copy from me wouldn't have been able to do so. I was furious but I was also shocked. That was the point when I started doubting my instincts. Because I stared back at my bluebook and I couldn't recall how I did come up with the answer through a shortcut. That was when I began thinking that maybe the obvious solution isn't always the right way to go.

Marketing was always the challenge. Even in college, I had always tried to get a slot in a marketing class but was always bumped out by the other business administration and business economics majors. So what. If I didn't make it to Ad School, I landed an AE job for a graphic design shop. It turned out to be my most inspiring job. In that job was the first and last time I felt that lust for work, the kind that drove you out of bed in the morning. But I left that job eventually. Numbers were always my default setting. Why didn't I get that then? I should have known that when you click on my reset to factory settings button, I always went back to numbers.

It was the lure and tug of the marketing unicorn that would always call me out from the depths of my excel sheets and budgeting workshops. Just when I was easing back into autopilot mode, it called out saying, "Come play with me."

So one day, I did. Through sheer luck and serendipity. A marketing post was offered to me on a silver platter. On day minus one I met Him. On day zero I met him. At first it was a temporary post, then it became mine eventually. Day One meant career was foremost and the boys were just for breaks when I found time away from working. I started seeing him. His flipside world made me think seemingly beyond logic. Always challenging borders, boundaries and conventions. It was like being on drugs without the side effects. Or was it?

My career took a different direction. I wasn't too brave in advertising, but I flourished in activation, which meant events, direct marketing, and sales from the ground up. I might have stepped on a few toes and egos along the way. I can't say I'm proud of that. But I did my job well. I enjoyed meeting people and making friends. Others called it networking. I called it expanding my world. There was only a thin line between professional and personal. It was my personality, I suppose. But it was very exhausting especially when work extended after hours, when meetings and night-outs merged. There were no breaks except in sleep. This phase lasted for years. I bowed out of my last marketing job, as the Brand Manager of a car magazine, two years ago. If I were to redesign my resume as a brochure, it would have two parts: my finance jobs and my marketing jobs.

And Him. We stayed friends across time, across countries and time zones. He was my saving grace, my anchor. Little did I know, he was my reset button.

The obvious solution was always in numbers. He who makes me smile always reminds me that life shouldn't be complicated. (It doesn't necessarily mean he practices what he preaches. But that is a different story for a different day.) But I listen, at least of recent past. Over a year ago, a door opened for a finance job and I reluctantly took it. Because it was a real grown-up job. It has been an uphill climb since. A lot of sleepless nights like tonight. Unlike in algebra where solutions aren't always obvious, I find myself going back to the logical tools in high school geometry. The solution was always obvious because it was already there, staring right in front of me.

There is a reason I keep coming back to numbers. There is a reason for the numerous aptitude tests. We need to discover our talents so that we can make the maximum difference in even the smallest of space that we live in. It didn't matter whether the world was big or small, it mattered that we were being the best version of ourselves. Wasn't that the obvious solution all along?

I am back to day minus one of a different direction. I no longer call it a career. Just my life's work, in preparation for settling down and retirement.

I found a scrapbook I hid some seven years ago. I knew then what I chose to ignore all this time. He who makes me smile inspires me to be me. It doesn't matter if I have become the constant term in his quadratic equation. (That pesteng ahem in his life maybe.) He has become more than that to me. I am finding ways of becoming the best version of myself because of him. I wrote on the page, "He is my True North." How did I know it back then?

Writer's Block

This is my longest dry spell. Could it be that I have finally ran out of things to write about?

I feel
I see
I love
But I cannot speak it or write it
I am physically frozen and emotionally paralyzed.

Bittersweet

I hate airport scenes. I've played in it since I was six. I shuttled back and forth from Manila to Toronto for all my life. Fun and not-so-fun. Not if you're the cry baby that I am.

But this time around it was quite different. Everything was brand new. I was the one being left behind. I was the one driving to the airport and leaving the airport to go back to my normal life. And him. He had the whole world in the palm of his hand.

I hate the uncertainties of goodbyes. You never really know what happens next like a Hitchcock cliffhanger. Beyond the airport is a vast combination and permutations of what ifs, a fruit bowl of people to dazzle and be dazzled with.

And yet there I stood, between the US immigration doorway and my life. We said our goodbyes. I can't even remember if I had time to say anything clever. No matter. The tears won over. as he kissed me. One cheek and then the other.

He may never be mine forever but he was mine and I was his for two happy weeks.

Take care sweet boy. I'll see you soon.

Paralysis

Fear is defined as the possibility of having one's heart broken in a million pieces.

How did you two meet? A question we've been asked countlessly these past few days. Such a simple question without a simple answer. Because as I search my mind for the story it always finds the answer that I have loved him for as long as I have known him. How can that be simple when we have lived our separate lives all these years? How can my heart want something it might never have?

The answer is this. He is here now. He has crossed the boundaries between what keeps my life safe from that what if and that possibility of what could make me happy. My guards are down, I am vulnerable and he is possibly clueless. So I am trapped in my own web, with my own poison and by my own heart.

Letter

Dear Universe,

This is to tender my resignation from the Game of Love effective immediately.

I would like to take this opportunity to thank you for the many years of experience. You taught me how to love unconditionally.

You showed me that even after I've cried my eyes to the point of exhaustion, puffiness and stinging pain, the sun does shine again and I do find reasons to laugh again.

Through my one-true-ex, you taught me that lying cheating bastards don't have to get their karma. You humbled me by making me see that to the other woman, I'm probably the other woman in her eyes trying to steal the guy away. If she cannot live without him, I'm thankful that I can. That my world will not crumble if he's not there to hold my hand every step of the way.

After the ex, I found him, the One. If I cannot have him, I trust your reasons even if I cannot fully comprehend it yet. I know now why every other guy was wrong. Because no one else gets me like he does. No one else fits me like he does. No one else has multiple lives like I do.

I should have known that it was beyond my power to fight it from the very beginning, from the moment I laid eyes on him till now as I am alone, away, across oceans, islands and vast continents. No matter how complicated our lives are, Love is the simplest of all things.

I have no more fight left in me. Although I may have a million questions, I don't have to have the answers right away. All I have left to give is my trust and my every breath. I pray that one day, that will be enough.

Sincerely,
Hopeless Romantic Me

Freelancing - The Call of the Wild

I hear it. It beckons like a mermaid in the mist. Telling me that I'm ready to leave my comfort zone behind.

Three weeks ago, my cousin Raul passed away so suddenly. We surmised he had a massive heart attack in the middle of the night. Saddened and shocked, my brothers, cousins and I found comfort in each other. I reminded some of them that he was already accomplished and has left a legacy of published books behind. Yes, Raul was my muse, the kind you admired and feared at the same time. He set the bar so high for me, not just in my writing, but more in the way I lived and followed my dreams. I feared that I would never be able to make him proud.

He constantly reminded me that I was bigger than my fears. When I was a freshman in UP Diliman, and scared of telling my parents that I didn't want to become a doctor, he simply asked me what I wanted to do. I was never afraid to tell him that I wanted to change the world. I said I didn't want to slice up bodies. Instead I wanted to dissect people's thoughts.

That was just the beginning. He was there each time I made life changing decisions. In my first job ever, we were officemates. That wasn't even intentional. I had applied to a job ad in the local newspaper and when I went for the interview, there he was as one of the interviewers. He was there when a common friend of ours broke my heart. He was there when I decided to migrate to Canada for good. He was there when I took a hiatus in Manila for 18 months. During all that time, he would ask me if I had written anything yet. But what do I write, I felt like I hadn't lived yet?

Now that he has gone ahead to the library in heaven, because I'm absolutely sure that's what Ollie's heaven looks like, I still hear his voice. I still hear him asking me, "Are you happy? Are you living your dream? Are you living the life you want to write about?"

Last week, I was in Manila and living in two timezones and not in a fun way. I wasn't chatting with friends from across the Pacific Ocean. No, I was working, posting accounting entries and replying to emails across the Pacific. That made me feel very, very sad. When I should have been dealing with family matters, work had intruded such a personal time. That signaled the end for me. It was work-life balance tipped at the wrong side of the scale.

I'm back home and back to work. Today, each moment on my desk I heard the ticking of the timer, the rushing of the sand on the hourglass. I'm setting up my escape to freedom. A planned escape because I'm 40 and not 21. But an escape nonetheless. Soon. Before it's too late.

Saying Thank you to 2011

We take whatever piece of heaven we are given. Because the past 2 years, 2009 and 2010, have been quite challenging and downright difficult, I welcomed all the good things that 2011 brought. In the area of work and career, I have finally accepted my calling to work side-by-side with numbers. I should have known since I first fell in love with Geometry that I had the aptitude for logical thinking necessary for handling the big picture of cash management. I daresay I learned the skills along my treacherous career path and have found my niche. Perhaps, time-permitting, I may hone my skills further through certificate courses. But this is not a priority anymore.

I still long for the balance of family life and home-living, the other side of the scale that tends to be neglected like a middle child. There is much room for improvement in the coming year. I should minimize working extra hours on Saturdays. I should spend more time learning to cook some family recipes, such as adobo, kare-kare, menudo, chicken-in-beer, and all the Filipino dishes that are part of special occasions in our home. I know that new year's resolutions are always a sure fire way of setting oneself up for failure. So these are not resolutions like writing people more or calling my Other-Mom more often. No we will not call it that at all.

As for that piece of heaven, which tips the scale even further, I am closing my eventful year quite aptly in New York City. Away from work and still checking (and replying to) work emails while person-who-makes-me-smile is still sleeping in. No, things aren't meant to change overnight, and yet I'm happy just knowing that he is here on the same timezone, in the same city, standing on the same piece of heaven. Who can think of tomorrow when today is just as promising?

My Boring Life

Because I don’t know where to start, I’ll just start right in the middle. That’s where I want you to be. In the middle, in the midst, of my daily life. Not my rants and raves. Just right in the middle of my boring suburbia life. Why? Because I fought long and hard to get to this spot. That’s right – this boring spot.

Most recently, I turned 40. At first nothing changed, I felt exactly how I felt between 30 and 39. But soon after, I started creating this manifesto in my head. What have I done at 40? What have I really accomplished? I’m single, no children, no actual responsibilities other than being an occasional reluctant accidental workaholic.

I stare at myself in the mirror. Wondering where is that 21 year old me, the one who came fresh out of university wanting to save the world? In a more basic level, where is that 21 year old body of mine. I lost her halfway to 40. I wish I could say these were just numbers. But the numbers on my weighing scale were more difficult to ignore and shrug off as just numbers.

So quite recently, and perhaps not so by accident this time, I discovered a gym right in between where I work and where I live. So guess what, I signed up. Thinking this is how I will find my 21 year old mirror me, hopefully in my 41 year old me.

So lately I find myself working with a purpose. I need to focus on work during work. Then at precisely 6:00 pm I leave all the stress behind on my desk, including my work laptop and head to the gym. Twice a week I see my personal trainer. He pushes. I feel no strain, I tell him I need more. Because I am driven. There are many reasons for this. Some things I can tell you. But some things remain very private, even if I know this is my blog. Precisely because this is my blog. I know some things remain in my offline, unwired life, where real living happens. So let me tell you the many reasons why I am trying to claim my body back.

I want to do my 100 km bike ride for my 41^st birthday. Because I know I can do it, even if the longest I have ever done was a 60 km ride. I only know I can do this because I really want to badly.

I want to conquer my hypertension and my high cholesterol levels that are both built-in in my DNA. In 2009, just so suddenly, I developed high-blood pressure. It was stress induced, for sure, but also because I already had it in me. It ran deeply in my family tree, and age didn’t matter at all. So I take medication to control it. But also, I need to watch what I eat on a regular basis.

I want to fight cancer. That too is built-in in my genes. It scares me. Because it happens to people I know. I don’t ever ever want it to happen to me.

I want to lose 30 lbs. I want to look at the mirror and like what I see. I mean really like what I see. Further, I want to fit into that little black dress and be able to turn heads.

Right at the end of last winter, I adopted the most gorgeous long-haired mini dachshund. Such a long name for a wiener dog. At the end of the day, he is happiest when I step inside the door. He has the shortest legs you have ever seen on a dog, but boy can he run. He runs every night, indoors. He is small and our 2^nd floor is long. He is lucky that way. I want to be able to not just take him for walks on weekends, I want to run with him and play with him at the park. Running. That I think is his second happiest thing.

Because my dog is a runner, I need to be a runner. In less than a week, I have taken on two fitness challenges. I’m helping a colleague at work to reach her personal goal, that is to run a marathon. So I told her that she should start with the first milestone. Yesterday we both signed up to do a 5 km run by May 2012. Easy-peasy? Not for me, the reason why I ride the bike is because I don’t like to run. But who says I can’t start now? The other fitness challenge I accepted happened earlier on last weekend. A dear friend of mine promised that if I vow to do a 10 km run, in return he will train for his first triathlon. And today, unbeknownst to my trainer, we started with 30 second interval runs on the treadmill. So I told him tonight that I signed up for the 5 km segment for the Mississauga Marathon. He said he’s training for the same event as well, for half or full? I didn’t ask. I was more bothered that since I’ve told him, now I have to train for it for real.

Then comes my dream goals. There are three: roller-blading, snowboarding and the 200 km ride for the Ride to Conquer Cancer that finishes at Niagara Falls.

Then comes my real life goals. One which is unspeakable as my heart only knows. And the other is this: I want to be an adoptive mother to an orphan child before I’m 50 and be up to the physical challenges of keeping up with a child.

After all is said and done, I may or may not reach my goals or realize my dreams, however, I want to live over 80 fighting to make them real.

Stepping Up

Two days ago, I unleashed the Hulk in me at work. Who can forget that famous line, "Don't make me angry. You wouldn't like me when I'm angry," from childhood? When I accepted my new post nearly four months ago, I asked that I not take on the managerial responsibilities so I can concentrate on mastering the tasks of cash management and other financial matters. I thought doing that would isolate me from supervising other staff but I was merely being myopic about the matter because everything and almost everyone's jobs related back to me.

One particular thing has become my pet peeve and I'm not just being whimsical about it. Day in and day out our one cash register was always out of balance. 98% percent of the time. Retail sales figures about 7% of total monthly sales. However, cash and other cash-related payments from sales by our sales reps are also rung through that one till. Now correct me if I'm wrong, but we're no Wal-Mart in terms of daily volume, so is it too much to ask to balance the cash out at the end of the day? It's not a matter of not having enough cash, it's a matter of recording all sales transactions. So for the nth time last Wednesday, I was receiving an incomplete report. I'm not making any excuses, though I may have been exhausted, at 5 minutes to going home, I blew my top. There were 2 staff left at the retail showroom. After rejecting the report, I screamed an expletive to no one in particular. Surprised with myself and slightly worried if I was turning bipolar. I quickly packed and left with a gruff goodbye, brushing off the one staff's apologies.

I felt sick losing control. I'm usually Steady Eddy. Back in the day, I would have went straight away to find a priest. Instead, I went straight home and did my own examination of conscience.

I was turning into ugh a manager.

The next morning, the senior retail staff, the other person present when I reprimanded the younger staff, came to see me. She wanted to have a word about the incident. I was ready to stand my ground in case she defended the other. Since every front staff was also guilty of the deed on a regular basis. I was relieved to find out that she agreed with me and that her not getting involved in the matter meant that I was on the right track. Yet I still apologized for losing my patience.

Later in the day, I called in the younger staff into my office. I wanted to give her tips on how to avoid her mistakes or how to solve her own problems. I had to explain that my backtracking their every move was not only a waste of my time and energy, but more that it was part of their job to be detailed and focused.

She left after promising never to commit the same mistakes again. I felt something foreign. I was beginning to sound like ugh a parent. Memories from childhood was sneaking from my subconscious. My mother telling me after a long scolding, "you understand why we're doing this right? It's because we love you."

So at 5 minutes to closing, I had such high hopes until I heard those dreaded words. My heart sank. She was out of balance. Once again. I let out a deep sigh. Told her and her supervisor that every mistake they make comes off of total retail sales. I was resorting to punishment. Suddenly I had aged in less than 24 hours. From an ugly green monster, to a nurturing parent. Somewhere in between, I suppose, is a good manager and leader.

Journey to 80

I had a dream that I had the wrong time, on my phone display, on the radio clock, on the computer, even on the wall clock. None of them were in sync and I couldn't tell which one was the real time. I panicked, have I missed the whole day? Have I been sleeping that long? Now what could that mean? I think I am sick and stuck at home because I am being punished for not making time to write sooner.

I came here to Toronto almost 6 years ago in search of the most elusive work-life balance. I remember the time when I used to work 12-hour days back in Manila. I come to work by 7:00 am to beat the traffic and leave at 7:00 pm to avoid the rush hour. Otherwise, travel time could easily takeover your day. Sometimes I don't go home straightaways in favor of an event or a work-related function. It was work almost 24/7. My cell phone could go off at any given time and it didn't matter whether I was on vacation or out of the country even. Work was what defined my being. Of course I was paid well, better than the average Juan that is. But in the end, even that didn't matter.

I left to breakaway from that lifestyle. It wasn't easy striking if off in Canada. There were locals with university and college degrees who spoke better English to contend with. There were the other immigrants who had a do or die attitude. While I just wanted to ease myself into a new life. I worked as a barista in Starbucks for about a year. Feeling sorry for myself for my measly pay cheque but enjoying the flexibility of part-time work.

Through the years, I learned that I was surrounded by people who struggle to find their work-life balance as well. And have I found it? That is a good question to ask on a day like this. I've been away from work since Monday for a brief vacation and I was scheduled to be back to work on Thursday. Instead, on Wednesday afternoon, somewhere between Minneapolis and Toronto, a virus struck my insides. When we got home, I had managed to eat one piece of chicken, downed 1 extra strength Tylenol and found my way to the couch. I took a nap, hoping no one would notice that I wasn't feeling well. It took a lot of effort to get up, brush my teeth, get changed and move to my bed. The next morning I couldn't get out of bed. That was my only sick rule. If I was too sick to get out of bed, then I should definitely stay home. This was one of the rare occasions when I had to abide by that rule. I spent most of yesterday in bed. Found enough energy to go to the doctor at 2:45 pm, pick up the dog who stayed with my brother's family while we were away, then found my way back to my bed after that. Getting up for dinner was a battle. But it had to be done. Better to take medication with a full stomach or so they say.

They said the virus will need 3-4 days to run its full course. Who am I to fight this? I wanted to go to work today, my last chance to try to catch up on work that's probably been piling on my desk since Monday. But I woke up with a headache and some pain on various parts of my body. The fever comes and goes with the extra strength Tylenol. But my itchy throat and stuffy nose couldn't find any relief unless I stood up. This was a no win situation. I woke up, decided to stay home today, went back to sleep and now feeling slightly better only because I had let go of the fight.

I think there will be days when Work will win over Life and vice versa. Then there will be rare occasion when everything will be in perfect balance. I live for those moments. Right now, Life is taking over. I have my work laptop right beside me but I haven't even managed to turn it on and check my emails. Because at this point, there's nothing much I can do but wait till Monday to get back in the game.

Some people say toxins and what we eat shortens our life. Some say smoking can cause all sorts of diseases. But I think stress is the leading cause of killer diseases. Some studies show that stress can awaken otherwise dormant cancer cells. Heart attacks are triggered by stress, 9 out of 10. Now I can't say we should avoid stress all together because that's probably next to impossible. But if there was a way to manage stress by learning when to let go or by leaving all the work behind as you leave your workplace, wouldn't that be ideal? Wouldn't it be good to have something to look forward to when the workday is done? Like spending time doing the things you love most or doing absolutely nothing with the people you love most? Perhaps that is the work-life balance we are all looking for.

Even the dog knows best, he has taken over my bed and gone back to sleep. I should do the same shortly and try to regain my health to 100%. This has been a week of milestones. Reaching the age of 40. Taking a trip for a real vacation and nothing more, no funerals to attend, no other obligations to meet. Also, I signed up a few months ago for the Healing Cycle, which is taking place on Sunday. I have even downgraded my distance to 10 km to ride with the kiddies. If I can even make it to the ride, if I'm well enough that is, in whatever distance, that alone would be a milestone. The beginning of a new chapter in this journey to a long and happy life.