It was a busy day at the restaurant. The place was packed and the kitchen could not keep up; a weekend scene with 5-year-olds at the zoo could have looked more serene. And it was my lucky day, I just had to have the biggest table with the most important people.

"Right now, I don't care whose fault it was. I just want to get the problem fixed," was what my manager said when I asked him if it was my fault. I wanted to face the wall and bash my head on it from shame. That was already more than a year ago, but I could still remember how embarrassed I was for asking the worst question that could possibly be raised. I had to make sure I was not going to be accountable despite the fact that when I was worrying about my credibility, other things mattered more. It was like a scene from a movie, the whole world slowed down when I realized this, and a cold gust of wind blew across my face to signal me that I had to get started on fixing the problem.

Everyone clings to a certain degree of selfishness. It is primeval, a survival instinct. The process of evolution would collapse if species did not desire to be preserved. Therefore, shouldn't harboring selfishness be a good thing? Not so much. Unfortunately, unlike the rest of the animal kingdom, humans have been creating the most complex varieties of relationships and societies possible. We think more than necessary, beyond our need for basic survival. Even we classify ourselves as Homo sapiens, a taxonomy which translates to wise man in the English language. One look at Maslow's pyramid will tell you that while most species are only driven to secure the first two (sometimes, three) levels, humans hanker for something more.


Maslow's Heirarchy of Needs
(image from Wikipedia)

We belong to an organized group that is based on shared written and unwritten rules, and each of us are expected to behave in such a way that we benefit the existence of the rest of our species. Though there are other social animals, we are several notches above them in this concept. Because, unlike them, we think too much.

When I asked my manager that question, I had several things going on in my mind. I had to make sure it was not my fault-- because I wanted to assure myself that I did nothing to disappoint both my guests and my superiors, because I wanted to assure myself that I have not done anything stupid enough to find myself jobless the next day, and, simply, to assure myself that I have not done anything stupid. I was so worried about myself that I did not even realize how inappropriate my question was for the moment. Selfishness comes in so many forms that we hardly even recognize it. Simply put, I did not even realize that what I was doing was already selfishness in itself. I was thinking too much about myself, which brings us to how our ability to think can be as detrimental as it can be beneficial.

We have established the reality that people can become selfish because of self-preservation. We desire things so we could create the ideal future for ourselves (and also for those individuals that we care deeply enough about). Desire is good because we need to survive, but when this goes over the top, desire turns to greed. Then, we start to defeat the purpose of selfishness for the survival of the rest of our kind. Greed means acquiring more than what is necessary. More of money, more of food and water, more of power, more of attention, and less for everyone else. But why does this happen? How can a person turn so selfish? People become greedy because they fear the future. (Ah, fear, the cause of all things vile on this planet.) A man wants more so he could have security of wealth and emotions-- to assure himself that he will not starve and be unhappy, and to assure himself that he has enough control to earn the respect of society. A person fears because he thinks and makes himself believe that nothing is obvious enough so he could have faith in future certainties-- that is, he thinks too much and, sometimes, too ahead.

But because we are thinking animals, we also have the ability to tame our minds at our own disposal, i.e. we can become the master of ourselves if we decide to. So here is how you get over that fear. At one point in your life, you will have to admit to yourself that you spend too much time dwelling on the bad things. Accept this. Accept that you dwell, that you think too much, that your thoughts drive your decisions. And that is exactly how you overcome your fear. Fear is an emotion (in fact, fear, hate, anger, love, and every thing else), emotions are thoughts, and those thoughts are in your head, thoughts that you own and thoughts that you have perfect control over.

Control your thoughts, and you control your fears.


One hot summer day in UP Diliman.

I will probably be posting a gazillion pictures in the following weeks to reminisce my travel escapades in the past couple of months. I feel like I have not written enough about what I have been up to. This journal is supposed to be a documentation of my life, after all.

Today's lesson: Take control.

I took out a pair of jeans from my duffel bag, but I was torn between a blue plaid button up and a thin white t-shirt. It was 90° outside. Well, I could always fold the sleeves up, I told myself. I took down my bath towel from the hanger and was about to get into the shower room when I heard Julia Roberts speak from the television. Eat, Pray, Love. I saw that movie about 2 years ago. Maybe I should watch it again. So I went back to the couch and sat down.

Our lives undergo changes, big and small, and the most dramatic and remarkable ones are usually those that we least expect— as cliché as that may sound, it cannot get any truer. Last year, I set out to an unfamiliar place hoping I could firmly grasp my hands around two things: work experience and money. And for the first few months, that was how it went, but a couple more later, I found something that completely caught me by surprise.

Assuming that you have actually read my previous entries, you know how contemptible I was 8 months ago. For days, I was in an awful state. I guess ruined would be the perfect word for it, as how Robert’s character (in Eat, Pray, Love) aptly put it. It was a period of despair, sadness, guilt, remorse, loneliness, hate, and every other negativity imaginable. Waking up in the morning, curled up in my airbed, staring at a ceiling so white (you would think it would drown you in its blankness)— all I wanted to do then was feel sorry for myself, dwell in my misery, and find someone else to blame for my inability to be happy. But for some reason, I decided to fight. I threw away every memento that heightened my sorrow and decided to start anew with only one thing: my decision to be happy. So I started smiling at the world, and despite not expecting it to smile back, it did. And it did so with such sincerity that I started seeing happiness everywhere I went.

Putting yourself in a different environment will not guarantee life-changing experiences. In fact, being foreign could be the worst thing that could happen to you if you let it. When things change our lives (for better or for worse), it is only when we allow it. Because, whether we admit it or not, we almost always have the choice to take full control and responsibility of how places, events, and people will shape us. Every day, we make decisions that navigate us through a mindboggling maze to survival. Though, sometimes, we pass by a time in our lives when we stop choosing and we settle down for something good enough. But when we become complacent, this is when we start to betray ourselves. When you let despondence blanket your ability to make decisions, you let go of the decision to be happy. You stop deciding. And you stop taking control.

Fear is a strong and confusing emotion. We should not fail to recognize its strength because, after all, knowing our set of fears is key to understanding ourselves. What am I afraid of? Why am I afraid? But then recognition and acknowledgement can be two entirely different things. Too much acknowledgement can become submission, and submission to fear is as desirable as slipping on a banana peel and landing face down on a little mound of dog poop. Fear, if you let it, will drive you down into abysmal despair. You could let it feed you with unhappy thoughts, caress you with uncertainties, and tuck you in for a night of bad dreams. But you could also fight it— flail your arms against it, kick it, scratch it, and chase it away like a mad child. But I guess it is not always as easy as it sounds. After all, it is a lot more convenient to be friends than be in a brawl with fear. But, you see, if you truly intend to be happy, you must make a commitment.

Fear keeps us from making decisions because we are afraid to see what is in store for us. Our knees go weak when we envision the possibility of something worse. Our alarm goes off when we encounter something unpleasant and unfamiliar, then we lose control, letting fear encapsulate our being and giving it the authority to send us into a whirlwind of tribulations. And that is exactly how you become unhappy. By losing control.

Two things influence how we perceive the world: our thoughts and emotions. For most people, these two are as fragile as paper, it can be easily torn and you can end up with only bits and pieces of what was once whole; as delicate as a snowflake, the faintest sigh can melt it into nothingness. Depending on how we process our thoughts and emotions, we can be the happiest or unhappiest person alive. And if you are serious about seeing the world in a new light…well, that is exactly what you should do: see the world in a new light.

Accepting the responsibility of being in control changes everything. You have to allow yourself to bask in the sunny side of life. I will let you in on a little secret, these two trite remarks have helped me more than a whole shelf of self-help books (valued at $15 each) ever will: shit happens and look at the bright side. Negative thoughts constantly flow in the mind and drowning in it is fairly easy, one depressing image can lead to another— the best way to not get caught up in this unnerving stream is to get distracted with thoughts of a more positive nature. You were in an accident, and your car was totaled. Cheer up, at least you can still worry about your car, that means you're still alive. Do not never cover up the truth that anything— everything— has a brighter side. How you deal with your thoughts manifests in your emotions and behavior. Therefore, your thoughts define who you are. Thinking happy is feeling happy, and if you think and feel happy, then you are happy.

I tricked myself into thinking that my room was not as lonely as I thought it was. I started going out, something I never allowed myself to enjoy in the months prior to that period of my newly found awareness. You need to learn how to make yourself believe that you are happy— over and over again, as the saying goes, practice makes perfect. Eventually, I found this bottomless stash of hugs for everyone and gave away smiles like a mad woman. At one point, I began to feel like I was overdoing it but I did not stop. I thought to myself, I might as well be thought of as crazy while trying to "not" be crazy than be "really" crazy. What did I end up with? A bunch of people and memories I never thought I would find and need in my life. I found people who allowed me to hug them everyday, and who hugged me back with the same sincerity, not caring what kind of a person I was before, where I have been, and whom I have cared for and hated in the past. The fact is... they were just people, who had no extraordinary ability to magically cure a broken and hateful heart. I realized then that, yes, they were indeed a special bunch and I do need to be taught how to have fun again, but I also needed to find it in me the willingness to have fun again, and I had to make that decision fast.

So I let go of the fear of the uncertain and what-ifs and started living then and there with the reality that shit happens and that all I can do now is look at the brighter side of things. I am far from being the Yoda of happiness. In fact, sometimes, I still find it easier to give into hate and anger. But I have had a taste of what happiness is like if I let go of all that hostility, and it is a feeling I want to constantly surround my heart with— immerse my whole body in— for the rest of my life, it is warm and cool, it is interesting, it keeps me grounded, it is that refreshing cold water after an hour under the scorching hot sun, it is that flavor you want to relish when you sink your teeth into the softness of a freshly baked pretzel roll smeared with salted butter, it is that relief you get when you sit in an upholstered velvet recliner after a hard day's work, and it is that fuzzy feeling you want to savor when you climb into the soft coolness of a freshly made bed.


This is Chanel, my cousin's 1-year-old.
She is happy, the happiest person I have met in a while. :)

Today's lesson: Decide.

Every person has a fear. Of heights, of needles, of spiders, of the dark, of elevators-- the list goes on, but there are fears that are worse than others, those that manipulate a peron's way of life.

I recently had a conversation with a friend who admits her fear of growing old alone and unloved. It sprang from a topic that was so typical it was almost mundane: sibling rivalry. I say this is mundane because I come from a family that is very much prone to hypocrisy and self-righteousness (nevertheless, they are family), but this tale of family feud is another banana.

Blogs with overflowing teenage angst that proliferate on the World Wide Web are proof enough of the world's increasing population of the estranged. Teenagers who are unable to find their place in their homes are driven to depend on their friends and/or lovers to fulfill the need for emotional attachment. (Been there, done that.) But when you have gone past the age of adolescence and you still seek the approval of others for self-fulfillment, then it becomes less pathetic but more real and more scary. Wisdom grows directly proportional to age, but truth be told, a third variable sometimes forces itself to grow with the other two: indolence, which inverses the first equation. For the group of people who holds on to this longer formula, day by day, their tendency to settle becomes stronger.

My friend claims she is a little too plump and a little to short than the average lady, she fears she will never find another person who would love her for the way she is. Therefore, she is settling for what is possibly the mediocre choice. Her words translate to insecurity, doubt, and low self-esteem. But I do not believe that she actually has enough reason for these uncertainties. Regardless of the kind of slump we are in, we can only choose to either settle or make changes. And if you are unhappy with your current state, it only makes sense to choose the latter, so you raise your head up, and you move forward.

You accept the fact that there might be something wrong. With the recognition of the problem, along comes the recognition of better ways-- this is the first step, but what is even more crucial is when you have to start acting on it. Indolence hates nothing more than change, because with change, we are forced to make an effort to adapt. And most people, they do not want to make an effort.

I am confounded by individuals who complain about problems with obvious solutions. I am too fat, I wish I was thinner. I wish I can be as pretty as the girl next door. Instead of calling yourself names and drowning in your self-created misery, focus on things that actually make sense. And wouldn't diverting your focus also make more sense? Do not dwell on things that make you unhappy. You are fat, and you wish you were thinner and prettier? Then, become thinner and prettier. Do something about it. Make choices that make sense. Move forward!

Get to know yourself. Find out your strengths and weaknesses. Know what you are capable of. Love yourself. It feels good to appreciate oneself. And once you are able to do all these things, you learn how important your existence is, and you start planning for your own personal growth. Then, you start doing things that make you happy. You become less dependent of others to feed your need for self-fulfillment. You stop chasing and pleasing people for their approval. You start choosing quality over quantity. You find out that you don't really need an army of friends to become happy; you only need yourself and those few who care enough to consciously help you become that better person.

We seek happiness, but we must not settle for the wrong reasons. To quote Heraclitus, nothing endures but change. Nothing is permanent, everything is dispensable. But it is up to you which of them to keep the longest, from material things to people, from emotions to thoughts. But never make yourself believe that there are things you cannot live without.

Do your best not to return to your old habits. Let your old self and old choices teach you lessons, but do not let them define the rest of your life. You will only destroy yourself. Looking back is not bad. We may slip from time to time, but it is part of the process. You will struggle. But struggling is good, it is a sign of progress. It means you are trying to find your way out of the slump.

Of course, all these are easier said than done. But whoever said life was easy? Even I am still in the process of moving forward, great changes do not happen overnight. I still have to remind myself sometimes that I am not the better person I want to become just yet, that there is still so much more to learn about myself. Once you grow up, it stops being just a choice to take control of your own life-- it becomes an instant responsibility. But a responsibility to yourself and not to anyone else. So do yourself a favor and be happy-- it makes more sense anyway.


This picture never fails to make me laugh.
Getting ready for a supposedly "Scary Movie" shot.
Loca Filipinas y Peruanos. xD
Left to right, back: Nohely, Me; front: Yussell, Hanni, Melissa

Today's lesson: Please refer to the entry above.

There are things in life that you wish had never happened. But there are also things in life that you wish so bad would happen.

I wanted them to stop screaming at each other. To listen to me for once. Just once. I talked-- yelled. My words drowning in the shrilling voices of my daughters and in the anger puffing out of my son's mouth. I tried but my throat is weak and sore. I am almost sixty-five. My skin has wrinkled, my eyes have almost turned opaque. I watch my children hurt each other through a pair of old spectacles. I am old. And getting older.

Then it shattered on the carpet around my bare feet. Glasses of all shapes and sizes, broken and sharp-- like the sound of the tears flowing out of my eyes. And my hands found a framed picture, my children and husband with gleaming smiles, their eyes mocking me, waiting for me to throw and break them again on the floor.

There are things in life that you wish would go away. But they never do. They never do.

There is nothing to do, and I cannot even think of anything to write about. I would call this writer's block but (alas!) I am no writer instead I take pride in calling myself a frustrated writer.

I have always loved writing. Being able to form my thoughts into words has always provided me with my much needed sanity break. But unlike most of them prodigies, my love for writing did not start when I was only four years old. I was already eight when I began keeping a diary. Where I got the idea, I do not remember. But, yes, a pink one at that, complete with a key and a little heart-shaped lock-- at that age, I already knew what a horrible nightmare it would be if my family found out my darkest secret, i.e. whom I had a crush on at school. But I also do not remember where I used to keep the key, so whether one of my sisters eventually found out about my infatuation with a boy whom I hid under the name David, I will never know. All my young and superficial sentiments, I wrote down until I finished grade school.

The first real book I ever read was from a series called Bobbsey Twins, which I borrowed from a friend in sixth grade. The two sets of twins, Nan and Bert and Flossie and Freddie, (you guessed it) found a mystery worthy to be solved wherever they went. I wish I could have read more of them, but my mother did not believe in buying me such books. There were enough encyclopedias and Reader's Digest issues lying around. :\

I was 12 when I entered high school, not uncommon but a year earlier than normal. My high school had a small library with more fiction than reference books. That place was a haven for young bookworms. Despite the fact that there was a bigger collection of Sweet Valley High than anything else and that we were not allowed to touch the grown up books, I still found solace in a shelf of Goosebumps. I would borrow three books at a time and cower in bed at night, reading while fighting the creeping fear in my skin. I would finish all three books in one night and return them the next day.



Then, I started buying my own, mostly adaptations of popular TV shows like The Secret World of Alex Mack and Sabrina the Teenage Witch, I also remember owning a couple of Choose Your Own Adventure.



Later on, during my second year in high school, a friend brought a copy of Rage of Angels to school-- this book started it all. If I had a hero, it would be Sidney Sheldon, through his books I found out how powerful stories can be. He made me angry, he made me cry, and he made me laugh. His ability to provoke all kinds of emotion amazes me up to this day. While his stories are riveting, his writing style is sharp yet smooth, his books house the heaviest dramas yet they are always so easy to read and so difficult to put down. After finally finding out what what the grown up books in the library contained, I was unable to stop. I read and read and read. Through college, I would move from one dormitory to another with at least two boxes of books. It was very inconvenient but I never dared to part with my treasures.



I did not stop writing. While discovering the wonders of the Young Adult genre, I started scribbling down my own stories. They were always about Alexis and Matt, or Samantha and David. If those names sound too American to you, congratulate the western publishing industry for a job well done. Haha. XD The internet also gave me the freedom to write. At fourteen, I started blogging and publishing my poems online.

After college, I got myself a so-called writing job for a few months. The experience was great, but it was then that I realized I had so much more to learn if I wanted to be a writer.

Despite all my love for writing, I never found enough confidence to actually call myself a writer or even someone with potential. Because I know quite well that it does not only feed on passion, you also need the innate talent to think creatively, ink and paper cannot be forced to make love.

I had the title. Once, twice, thrice. I would get the compliments. But I have never sincerely believed it. xD Talk about low self-esteem.

I sometimes dream of writing a book that would change the course of literary history or that would make that special impact on people's lives. Maybe someday, when I have enough idle time, I can sit down and listen to the stories that are waiting and wanting to be heard from within me.

Right now, I write because it keeps me sane.


A few stacks of my books.
Though because of the Kindle, I have switched to e-books.

Today's lesson: NEVER GIVE UP. Don't stop doing the things that make you happy no matter how bad you are at it.

I have spent the last couple of days trying to find a job. I have submitted my resume to five agencies. So far, only one has given me an actual chance; I have another interview with that particular agency on the 28th, which will make or break my dream of joining this branch of the industry. There are two reasons why I have not been so successful. First, there are not much positions open and, second, I am not tall enough. Am I allowed to blame my parents for giving me such genes? Haha. XD This morning, I went to an agency, which I know very well requires applicants to be at least 5'3", but I still went, hoping that my work experience will override my physical inadequacy. And that comes my opportunity to get interviewed, my wit will be impressive enough. Alas, the first step of their recruitment process is asking applicants to take off their shoes and stepping on the stadiometer and weight scale. Why do they do this? I have no idea. Do I think it's stupid? Yes. They are the only agency with such a height requirement but,unfortunately, they are the biggest in the country, with the most affiliations. Oh, well. I can't do anything about it. I will just have to accept the fact that because I am 3 inches too short, I might have to rewrite my future plans again. Haha. XD

There are too many unemployed in the Philippines. People literally swarm any place that has a job opening. It is a sad fact that millions of Filipinos are wanting to leave the country, hoping to live a better life by earning foreign currency. And I am one of those people-- but I am not ashamed. See, it is not my goal to leave the country per se. It is my goal to save as much money and acquire as much experience as I can while I am young, because ultimately, I will establish my own business in my own country and hire and help my own people. I do not wish to work abroad so I can eventually live abroad, instead I wish to work abroad so I can eventually live in the Philippines. If this doesn't work out, I will try to find opportunities in another Asian country.

I will not deny that I miss my job in Indianapolis. Working like I was feeding two families, I especially miss my paycheck. I could always apply for another career training but I don't feel it's right anymore. There is no use hoping to work in Indianapolis again-- because that chapter is done, the blank pages of this book is screaming to be written on with something else. :\

I will also not deny that I have an advantage over a lot of other people my age in the same industry. I have earned my degree from a good school, I have worked in the US twice, and it would also be safe to claim that my ability to speak and write in English is more than enough. But all these do not get rid of the fact that I am competing against millions of Filipinos that are holding onto the same dreams.

I am a little frustrated because I hate waiting. I hate waiting and not being preoccupied. I feel like I am wasting so much time. Of course I can always find something online again. Write or tutor, but my situation is not very ideal for either right now.

I just received an email. An interview on the 9th for a job in Singapore. Singapore...does that sound good to you? :\

It's exactly 6am and I am wide awake. Two hours ago, Ysabelle, my 2-month-old niece, woke me up with another cry fest. She has been doing this to me since I got home about a week ago. :o Truth be told, every time she starts to sob, I tell myself I am never going to have a child. But whenever she lets out a squeal of laughter, it makes me think twice and I tell myself maybe it won't be so bad. I hate it when babies cry, not because their screaming hurts my ears, but because the terrible sound that comes out from them makes me feel like they're going through some intolerable pain. How do mothers handle that? The intermittent yet seemingly forever suffering of their toddlers?

Right now, as I type, she is stirring in her little hammock, fighting sleep and forcing her eyes to open, and I hear myself humming Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star in the most awful tune possible. Now, her cute round eyes glint in the dimmed light, she releases a little sigh and makes a funny sound by clicking her tongue. Despite the fear of having my own, I love children and babies so much. When I see a baby smile, everything in the world starts to make sense again. They remind me that, sometimes, little things matter more, that the simplest gestures can turn someone's world around, and that, most of the time, all we really need is a big hug and a gentle smile.


How can you not love life?
Taken with a camera phone, 8MP, converted to B&W.

I hum again. She stretches her tiny arms and legs and opens her mouth to let out a yawn. How is it possible for someone who has only lived for 68 days teach you so much about life?

--

No, I have not given up on photography though I also have not planned on turning it into a career. If you know me well enough, you should be able to tell why I bought a camera. I have already spent a lot of my savings on birding books and optics, and I plan to spend more. Before I could even start seriously photographing wildlife, I will have to buy a telephoto lens which costs more than my Canon EOS 60D with its EFS 18-135mm kit lens, which, by far, is the most expensive thing I have bought in my life.

I want to get a Canon EF 100-400mm f4.5-5.6L IS USM telephoto zoom lens, which is currently on sale and goes for $1,589.00 on Amazon. Or I could get a prime lens, a 400mm f/2.8L or even a 500mm f/4L would be ideal, but I am stupid for neither to pretend like I can spend that much on a hobby right now. Priorities. Priorities.


"My soul is in the sky." - William Shakespeare
Taken at South Street Seaport in New York.

I cannot claim that I am a good photographer, I possess neither enough talent nor technical know-how. I bought a basic photography book specific for my camera and have read two or three online tutorials. I definitely will not be caught paying more than PhP5,000.00 (~US$117.00) for a week's worth of class. I am currently in search of a potential photography buddy, even someone as ignorant as me. XD Learning comes a lot easier if done with another person. Everything just seems more enjoyable with a friend-- I had to go through a gradual and painful process to realize that.


dSLR, birding books, binoculars

If given a chance, why wouldn't I want to study photography and make a living out of it? I would grab the opportunity in a split second. Unfortunately, the things in my life are currently not as aligned as I want them to be. Photography is very expensive. No matter how much it pains me, I have to dwell on the fact that I can't afford a telephoto and a wide angle zoom lens at the same time-- that is how I motivate myself. Haha. XD I have to remind myself again and again: prioriiitiiieees!

--

I have spent my first sixteen days in the Philippines whining, whining about being so whiny. The thought of being unemployed for the next couple of months scares the hell out of me. Again, if you know me well enough, you can testify to how much I like to exhaust myself, be it with work or sports or whatever. A few days ago, I listed and narrowed down all my choices. I have come to the conclusion that I would have to set aside my dream of becoming a Psychologist and an NGO volunteer. I have somehow laid out a little plan for my future. Now, I am keeping my fingers crossed that comes the next year, it will still be my little plan. In a week or two, I will start job hunting in Manila. If I do get accepted, it will take a few months before I could start. And, maybe-- just maybe-- I can continue seeing the rest of the world.

Today's lesson: ALWAYS RETURN A SMILE! :D

(This post will probably suck, because I can't think right now. You have been warned, read at your own risk.)

What is more upsetting than getting sent home because you have the flu? Having the flu per se. :| But it makes sense to get sent home, so I'm not taking it against anyone. I can get both co-workers and guests sick. I might as well rest and get better.

Anyway, today would be the perfect time to catch up with some house chores: laundry and cooking. With all the food I've been eating, I deserve to be sick. I haven't been taking care of myself. No exercise, all work, and all bad food. I'm in very bad shape.

Since I started working in banquets, I have not had the time to run or go to the gym. After 3 months of running at least 4 miles a day, I stopped. It's not really my job that demands too much time from me. I force myself to work more than I should. People tell me all the time, "you work too much, Joan." And I think it's time for me to tell myself the same thing, I really do work too much.

Sometimes, I don't know how I do it. I always insist on working longer than 8 hours. I've been told that I'm killing myself; working 15 hours, sometimes even more than 20 hours per day, and going in the next day at 5am. At times, I only sleep for 3 hours between shifts. If I'm not working in banquets, I sometimes pick up shifts at Starbucks. So I rarely get a day off, and if I do, it's usually not more than one day per week.

After my first few weeks in banquets, I stopped keeping track of my hours. I don't even notice it anymore. Sometimes, it would feel like I only worked 60 hours, but when I check, it would actually be more than 90 hours. I once worked 118 hours, when everyone else just worked at most 80 hours.

I laugh about it. I laugh about intentionally exhausting myself. I laugh about practically living in the hotel because I'm there most of the time. I laugh about it but, in reality, I am very tired. And, now, it finally caught up to me. I am sick and it frustrates me.

Why do I work too much anyway? The obvious answer is I am saving up money. I have been doing a rotational training, the events department is my third and final assignment. In my first two departments, I worked a lot as well, but I was underpaid. I have not had the opportunity to earn decent money until I moved to banquets. So, these past months, I have taken advantage of the circumstances. I've been making twice, sometimes thrice, as much of what I used to make. I've finally been able to afford the things I want and need. I already paid off the money I owed for this internship program several months ago, and I was able to reward myself with some goodies and travels. But, more than anything, I am trying to earn some extra money for my mom, and for some future investments.

Other than fattening up my piggy bank, I actually just love to work no matter how tiring it is. For one, it preoccupies me. I hate being idle; I hate wasting my time on things that don't and shouldn't matter. And I thought I would never say this when I started working in that hotel, but I sincerely love the people I work with. They are appreciative and they know exactly what teamwork means. This is the reason I want to stay, because I know it will be hard to find the same kind of people to work with back home. Filipinos keep a very different work environment. Not much hugging, and not much besos. If there is one thing you need to know about me, it's that I'm a hugger. When I get back to the Philippines, I think I'm probably going to be depressed for a couple of weeks before I can properly function again. :|

I hope I can easily come back in a few months, but it's almost impossible. But I am determined to visit Peru to birdwatch and see some friends. Give me a couple of months to save for my ticket, and I'll be packed up and ready to fly to South America sometime in the next two years. I am honestly very excited about this plan. Haha. XD

Today's lesson: is very simple, DON'T WORK TOO MUCH! It has its drawbacks.

01.01.2012

New year, woot. I am hungry, sick, and tired. Those are three very negative adjectives that I probably shouldn't be using to describe how I feel on the first day of the year. *sniffles*

The past couple of days haven't really been so bad, except that I started having this awful sore throat when I came home from work two nights ago. My throat is itchy, I cough, I sniffle, and I want to drink some hot tea.

My internship is almost over. I have but a couple of days left. And my heart breaks every time I think about leaving. :( I will be saying goodbye to a group of incredible people, and I will miss them terribly.

01.02.2011

I woke up today with a congested nose. My voice is hoarse and scary, and I sound like an elephant every time I blow my nose. I hate being sick.

After more than a month of working without a day off, the hotel's occupancy rate plummeted; no meetings, no events. I am still not sure if it was something to be thankful about. In the ten days that I was away from work, four days of it I spent trying not to get lost in New York.

Hanni and I booked our flight about two months early. Despite the knowledge that we will be spending a helluva lot of money, we were determined to visit The Big Apple before the year ends. Three days before our flight, we managed to convince Nohely, a Peruvian friend, to go with us. So instead of an iPhone, Nohely decided to purchase a ticket to one of the most interesting cities in the world.

The night before our flight, Nohely got sick and I spent three hours arguing with Expedia.com agents so she could get a full refund. It was a non-refundable ticket, and rebooking would mean another $150.00 over her 300-dollar flight. We cancelled her flight.

Nohely is one of the kindest people I've met. She is such a hard worker that it hurt to learn that she was going to lose her hard-earned money. She also did not deserve to get sick; I was fearing the worst. Then two hours before Hanni and I were to board the plane, Nohely called to say she was rebooking for an afternoon flight to follow us. We were ecstatic but worried; she was, after all, still sick. We met Benhur, Hanni's brother who was also an intern in Missouri, at the LaGuardia Airport in New York City.

We stayed in Marriott at the Brooklyn Bridge. Being Marriott employees, we got a pretty good deal. And since there were four of us, we only paid around $40.00 each for 3 nights. During our first night, we walked to the Brooklyn Heights Promenade to see the Manhattan skyline, and it was one of the most beautiful sights I've seen in my life. For the next three days, we made our itineraries ourselves, and mostly relied on Google maps. None of us had any GPS-enabled device, so we had to review all our daily routes before leaving the hotel. New York is the most exciting thing that has happened to me in my stay in America, and it is indeed what they say it to be: a melting pot of culture and people. I felt at home. The hustle and bustle made me feel like I was back in Manila, only it was better, busier, and more exciting. I can see myself living in New York City.


The Manhattan skyline from Brooklyn Heights Promenade

We did a lot of things in 4 days, from getting lost in the American Museum of Natural History to watching a spray paint art vendor in Times Square, from eating at a Filipino restaurant thousands of miles away from home to waiting in line for two hours to get to the top of the Empire State Building. And, yes more than what I paid for the roundtrip ticket and the hotel, I spent on commuting, admission fees, and food.


New York City at night, as seen from the 86th floor of the Empire State Building

But seeing the cultural capital of the world and sharing so much laughter with newfound friends-- it was worth every penny, and worth the frustration of creating reliable itineraries and getting lost. XD There was so much to do, but so little time. Four days were not enough, even a month would not have been.


Clockwise: A two-wheeler in Times Square, a graffitied truck in Central Park-Center Drive,
crowd in the Museum of Modern Art, exhibit in the American Museum of Natural History

I don't really know how I got sick. Stress left me a long time ago as I was away from work for ten days. A virus I acquired in the dirty subway trains of New York City? Or simply the flu shot wearing off?

Though I worked the the previous four days in Starbucks, I don't officially go back to work in banquets until tomorrow. Here's to hoping I get better! I don't want anyone else getting sick.

And as I type, I pause and blow my nose, I think about the people I've met in the past year, and I feel warm inside. But as I realize that I will have to say goodbye and that I may never see them again, the cold creeps in once more.

Today's lesson: MAKE IT HAPPEN. GET OUT THERE.

I am a person. And I am a person who is scared of so many things. I am not exactly the daring type.

Singing and dancing in public scares the hell out of me. Driving makes my palm sweaty. And thinking about piercings turns my knees into jelly.

However, I am living several thousands of miles away from my country, family, and friends. I have done this not only once but twice in my life. And I intend to do it a hundred times over. I want to find out what the world has to offer.

I want to see Machu Picchu, get lost in the deepest Peruvian jungles, climb the high Andes, and get a glimpse of the White-Bellied Cinclodes. I do not want to just read about Peru. I want to go to Peru. I want to experience nature's bounty for myself. I want to stand on the soil of the birdiest country in the world. If Philippines has more than 600 bird species, Peru has over 1800. The figure is jaw-dropping, and simply reading about it fills me with euphoria.

I want to visit Picasso's birth city, and experience Europe's warmest winter in Malaga. I want to listen to La Marcha Real amongst the people of Spain. I do not want to just watch a flamenco dancer, I want to dance the flamenco myself and learn how to strum the Spanish guitar. I want to stand in front of the Sagrada Família and allow the greatness of its architecture engulf me. I want to listen to a Spanish historian tell the story of what was once the most powerful empire in the world. I want to learn one of the most spoken languages and speak nothing but Spanish for 3 whole months, so without pretentiousness and with just the perfect accent, I could say to myself "la vida es buena."

I want to teach African orphans how to read and write. I want help build water pipes for the remotest African regions and tell a six-year old girl that she no longer needs to make a 2-km trek several times a day for clean water. I want to touch the walls of African caves and decipher prehistoric paintings, and learn from the Ndebele people the art of beadwork and finger painting. I want to help rehabilitate lions and save sea turtles. I want to glide my hands around the trunk of a baobab tree, so I could understand the magnificence of the African savannas, then sit under its shade and watch the horizon turn into a golden orange.

A ticket to a new place is one of the best gifts you could give to yourself. On a birthday, on a holiday, or after a year's worth of hard work. I have come to realize that life is more than just your loved ones and job, and learning goes beyond what most of us would phrase our comfort zone. Life is also about yourself, your personal growth, and learning how to become a person for those you never thought you would meet or would need you. Unfamiliar faces and places teach us so much more than we usually expect.

Life is indeed full of surprises. We will meet people and see places. We will lose people and leave places. But wherever your passion and shoes take you, what matters are the memories you've collected and who you've become.

I no longer feel trapped. :)

What are the true risks in life? What makes you daring and what makes you not?

Today's lesson: TRAVELING IS LIKE STUDYING. THE MORE YOU DO IT, THE MORE YOU LEARN.

Yesterday, I waited for my second shift in the locker room. I read on my Kindle while four tired bodies slept beside me. America is indeed a land of abundance. Despite the fact that people work at least two jobs to afford what they want, the American life is still more fortunate than the rest of the world.

While in some places, people are dropping dead like flies as we speak, beggars in Indianapolis are overweight. At one time, I even saw a woman on her laptop with a sign beside her that says, "PLEASE HELP, JOBLESS." The whole world is an epitome of irony.

Day after day, I watch people clad in designer clothes walk around the hotel; a gentleman with a Burberry scarf around his neck, a lady with a Hermes leather handbag. Last night, 600 people filled one of the hotel's ballrooms. Men and women chatter while holding cocktails with one hand and gesturing with the other. They lined up for the most delicious dishes the world can offer, and they danced under the most colorful of lights. I also remember that some nights ago, we hosted a charity auction, and I cannot help but overhear that a little puppy was just auctioned for $3,000.00. The hotel I work for caters to socially prominent people. People who can afford to stay in a hotel for several hundreds of dollars per night, and who wants the best service their money can buy.

So why am I now thinking that I would rather be around people who makes nothing than around them who can buy a small town if they wanted to? I really don't understand. I could probably easily get a job in a hotel back home, work in an air-conditioned establishment, wear a suit everyday, and be surrounded with people in the same outfit.

At one time, a co-worker and I set up a continental breakfast for 6 people. The event order form was stamped V.V.V.I.P. We laid out five plates of fresh fruits, a dozen bagels, a pan of premium glazed Virginia ham biscuits, and several dozens of pastries, breakfast breads and muffins on two 5000-dollar glass tables, not to mention the 4 gallons of coffee on the credenza which was worth almost $250.00. The room was spotless, it was fit for the royal family. After their meeting, we went to clear the room and to our surprise, nothing was touched. I stood inside a room that we so meticulously set up an hour ago, surrounded with food that was prepared by the most talented chefs, food that was going to be thrown away in ten minutes. Several Filipino families could've been fed for a week, convert it to cash and several Filipino families could've been fed for a month. While the hotel wastes literally tons of food every week, on the other side of the world, people are dying of hunger. How does such a thing happen?

Sometimes, when I wait outside a meeting room for a group to break, I like to pretend that they're talking about the future of children in Africa, and not of dominating their industries.

The world is a sad place guised by things that entertain and preoccupy us. Hollywood, anime, computer games, money, even friends and family. We all want to be successful, but material possession doesn't guarantee peace of mind. And personal wealth doesn't take away the fact that millions of children are growing up hungry and uneducated.

Do you care? Do you want to do something about it?

Today's lesson: CARE. REFUSE TO ACCEPT THAT THINGS ARE SUPPOSED TO BE THE WAY THEY ARE.

Working too much has its drawbacks.

My watch read 7.52am. Five seconds later, I realized I was late for work. Almost two hours late. I took a cab instead of my bike. Fifteen minutes after I clocked in, I was sent home.

Unlike in my two previous departments, my current bosses are handbook nuts. I also found out today that a bunch of people has already been fired for tardiness, including an intern. So remind me to set my alarm two hours before my shift tomorrow.

I feel stupid that I worked so much in the past couple of days only to lose (at least) 8 hours of work today. When I mentioned in my previous post that the next two days were going to be worse, I wasn't joking. I was scheduled both in Coffee Breaks (CB) and Starbucks last Thursday. After 9 hours in CB, I only had time to change before clocking in for my next 8 hours in Starbucks. I was so tired that I decided to take two shots of undertow (vanilla, half & half, espresso shot)-- I found out later that night that it wasn't one of my brightest ideas. The undertow immediately took effect, I was wired for the rest of the night. In fact, so wired I didn't get to sleep until about 2.30am, and I had to be back at work at 4.45am. I worked almost 11 hours in CB, and almost 7 hours in Starbucks yesterday. 17 and 18 hours in two days with only an hour of sleep in between, am I trying to kill myself? I could be. So last night, I got home, changed and tried reading for 2 minutes before I dozed off-- I had to be at work at 6.30am.

Sometimes, I am made to wish I had an office job instead. CB is not as boring as I initially thought it was, my job includes lifting and transporting several gallons of boiling coffee in metal urns, and pushing rolling tables that are literally 20 times heavier than me on the hotel's carpet. I carry huge serving trays, which are also bigger and heavier than me, on my shoulder a lot. I'm really worried about my back. :| Other than being physically strenuous, every thing else is manageable. I am happy with CB. I still have so much to learn, but the group of people I work with is just really awesome. Today, instead of coming back to the apartment after clocking out, I went to a flea market and a pizza buffet with my new friends, Nohely and Stephany. Nohely was also sent home and she was only 24 minutes late! Being in a car with two Spanish-speakers can be really amusing, there always seems to be so much going on. I try to decipher some of their sentences; I understand a few words but end up getting lost. They just talk too fast. XD

Next week will be pretty slow though. I will have plenty of time to relax, which is disappointing. Because I want to keep working. It would be great if I could pick up some shifts. I really want that camera.

Working in a culturally diverse environment teaches you a lot of things. The event services department is a huge pool of immigrants, so you are expected to relate to all kinds of personalities. In CB alone, I work with Americans, Vietnamese, Mexicans, Peruvians, Iranians, an African, and an English. The degree of diversity was not as much in my previous two departments. Listening to the chorus of varying accents is surprisingly entertaining. I love everyone in CB but, right now, my favorite person would probably be Zaid (African), simply because she's very comfortable to work with, and she hugs like a mother. :) Ah, just thinking about saying goodbye to these people in January already makes me sad. :( It is really depressing if you think about it, because people come and go, and so many things seem dispensable. No matter how much you don't want some things to change, the harsh reality is you can't do anything about it. That's why every single day must be appreciated. The sadness of goodbyes is set aside if you live and enjoy life one day at a time.

Today's lesson: MEET AS MANY PEOPLE AS YOU CAN. LEARN THEIR CULTURE AND LANGUAGE. BE FLEXIBLE. YOU HAVE A LIFETIME TO START ENJOYING DIVERSITY, BUT THEN AGAIN, YOU ONLY LIVE ONCE.

The air is starting to smell like pork stew. The metal knife against the cutting board duets with the sound of boiling water. Zarah always cooks with so much enthusiasm that the kitchen seems to turn into her own little kingdom every time she's preparing something. Hanni sits in a corner with her Kindle, laughing one minute and whining the next. Twilight, she claims, is a good book. I sit on the floor opposite her. And I take a sip of my tea while I watch her read intently.

The sky is a subtle gray, a sad hue of white. It has been raining since I woke up this morning. It's 44°F outside, merely touching the glass window would make you shiver. Earlier, I cooked vermicelli and feasted on it while observing the crowd of teenagers enter the Conseco Fieldhouse across the street. Downtown Indianapolis has been very busy lately with a string of conventions. I was lucky to have been given a break today after working for 14 consecutive days. Tomorrow, I work again. When my next day off will be, I have no idea. I have not exactly done anything productive, which is heartbreaking. Other than doing my laundry and going to the gym later, I have not planned anything else. I feel like I'm wasting so much time. But then again, it's nice to be idle after working like a horse for 2 weeks. And, after all, the next two days will be much worse.

My sister has invited me again to Colorado in the first week of December, but I might have to turn it down for our planned New York trip on Christmas. It makes me sad though, to choose NY over Yana. But Yana I will see again next year, and NY I may never be able to visit once I go back to the Philippines. No matter how much I want to make money not an issue, it will always be an issue. Everything has a price. Like going to NY, seeing my niece again will cost me something, a helluva lot of something.

Due to an unexpected event, I will have to postpone buying a camera again. I am trying not to be bitter over it, so I'm settling for some other birding necessities instead. A number of items have been sitting in my Amazon shopping cart for more than a week now. And I've been itching to purchase them but the practical decision is to wait for my next paycheck. Fortunately, I only have to wait for two more days. XD And since my laptop has been very dysfunctional, I decided to buy a portable hard drive two weeks ago. I figured that it was more reasonable to buy an HD, than to buy a cheap but inferior laptop now and regret it later. So in case my laptop decides to fail me for good, my files are safe and I won't be as disappointed.



It is a Buffalo MiniStation, capable of storing 500GB of data but light as a feather, only 5.82 oz. With the dimensions of 3.03 x 4.5 x 0.55", it's lean enough. I initially wanted the 1TB version, but it would not have been a very smart investment; 500GB is more than enough already.

The sky has turned a darker shade yet it's only 18 minutes past 7pm. Two months ago, it would still be bright out. Winter is indeed on its way, and we'll be battling with hypothermia again. :\ I have started wearing gloves on my way to work in the morning. The cold air can get overwhelming.

My tea has gone cold, and I sip the last of it. Ah, I'm bored, yet some people would kill for the life I have right now.

I look out the window, hundreds of lights dapple the city's tall buildings. And I tell myself, the rest of the world awaits you, and you will see it soon.

Today's lesson: THERE IS NOTHING WRONG WITH WANTING MORE, BUT YOU NEED TO LEARN HOW TO APPRECIATE WHAT YOU HAVE. IT'S A CLICHE FOR A REASON: YOU'RE LUCKIER THAN YOU THINK YOU ARE.

I was having difficulty breathing, and my heart was throbbing so hard like it was about to literally jump off my chest. My belly was not being very happy. Bats, not butterflies, were screeching and flying around in my stomach. I have been very worried lately, and I thought maybe I would feel better if I write about it.

More than a month ago, I told myself I was going to take a Master's degree in Sociology when I get back to the Philippines. I have, after all, been wanting to study that discipline since time immemorial; it was just not so practical. Admittedly, I did not immediately zero down on Sociology. I was very confused; I want to learn so many things. Though I was quite sure I wanted to study something related to the social sciences, so Anthropology, Psychology, Sociology, etc. Then, a couple of days ago, while in Utah, something resembling an opportunity presented itself.

Now, I've spent the last three days researching graduate programs here in the United States and in the United Kingdom. There are so many options, but I do not really qualify for all of them. I was not a good undergraduate student. In fact, I don't believe I have actually ever been a good student in my life. I am a person who settles on what is mediocre. I do not work hard enough to learn something I do not find interesting. But I did perform really well in my general subjects. True, it may be because they had less and easier requirements, and my instructors and professors were more generous but, more than anything, they were that part of my college education that I appreciated and enjoyed immensely.

As one friend also emphasized, I will have more of an advantage if I study abroad. And it just makes more sense. To be able to learn things in a more global perspective is essential if I really want to get somewhere. And let's face it, the University of the Philippines may be the best in the country but, sometimes, you can only learn so much from one place. Receiving further education here in North America or in Europe would help provide me with more opportunities in the future. Now, while I was looking into some academic institutions, in the back of my mind, I was also analyzing my life.

And it just hit me. You know that feeling when there has been something bugging you for a long time but you can't really put your finger on it? Like you've known it all along, but it has never really struck you? Well...the bomb just dropped on me.

What am I doing? I have nothing to be proud of. I am just another worthless individual. I have not done anything of importance for anyone else. I am just another person who is unconsciously living a life out of a manual. Be a corporate slave. Be a housewife. Be a businessman. Be an engineer. Be a doctor. Be anything for yourself and those close to you. And not be someone for the world.

And like everybody else who has had the same awakening-- I am now suddenly someone who wants to change the world. :|

I feel helpless. Because time is running so fast. And I feel as if I am wasting so much time and energy doing things that do not really matter. Things that do no matter to myself and to the world. I do not have the knowledge and background to be able to make an actual difference.

The problem is studying abroad is not as easy as it seems. There are so many factors to consider. I do not have the financial capability to study in a first-world country, where everything seems to have a price tag of at least 1000 times more of its counterpart in the Philippines. Yes, there are scholarships-- the issues here are: my transcript is not really impressive, graduate scholarships are very competitive, and (honestly) I'm not very smart. I currently do not have the confidence to compete with a bunch of intellectuals. I am mediocre enough to admit that. :|

So I was thinking...I could spend a couple of years in the Philippines to prepare for further education abroad. I have been reading about one of Colorado State University's MBA programs that specializes in the sustainability of small enterprises in developing countries. But I understand that I'm not yet ready for it. I have so much more to learn. This time, I will have to be more vigilant, it is better to spend a long time preparing than risk failing.

Anyhow, I'm not really sure what to do. And I'm not really that decided about studying abroad. I really don't know. Who knows, maybe next year I'll be in a cubicle acting like a robotic corporate associate. Or maybe I'll be back in school in the Philippines. Or maybe I'll still be wandering aimlessly. But, right now, I know that I want to do something meaningful. And, right now, I'm refusing to be just another person.

I can't wait for my current training to be over. I want to get on with my life.

I have to be smarter. More aware. And I have to learn how to properly act on that awareness.

Now, this is a quarter-life crisis. :|

I need to grow up.

Today's lesson: YOU CAN BE AS IGNORANT AS YOU WANT TO BE, OR YOU CAN BE AS AWARE AND KNOWLEDGEABLE AS YOU WANT TO BE. AT THE END OF THE DAY, WE DECIDE HOW IMPORTANT OUR EXISTENCE IS GOING TO BE.

P.S. No, writing didn't help as much. Maybe running would. You'll find me in the gym in the next hour.

UPDATE @ 11.19pm
Running helped while I was running. Sooo...not really, it didn't. ~_~
Maybe reading and sleeping would. I have to wake up at 5am for my new department training tomorrow anyway. :\

There are no innocents. There are, however, different degrees of responsibility. - The Girl Who Played with Fire, Stieg Larsson

I am trying to convince myself to put off watching the film adaptation of the Millennium Trilogy until I finish reading the last book. This act of temperance is, in all honesty, very hard to manage. I have, instead, been re-watching the trailers. XD

The first (The Girl with the Dragoon Tattoo) and second (The Girl Who Played with Fire) books are by far the most riveting stories I've read of its genre, i.e. crime/mystery. When I finished the first book, I realized I started with very little expectations and did not anticipate the stack of twists and turns in the plot. It has been a while since I had refused to turn off the lights at night after reading time. XD Of course, I may just happen to have a very active imagination, but what my mind currently likes to make up roots from the books' macabre descriptions of murder, rape, and other obscenities. A few nights ago, during my vacation in Utah, I shamelessly asked my mom to scoot over to the edge of her bed so I can sleep beside her. XD I was too disturbed to sleep in my own bed, which was actually just adjacent her's. XDDD

Speaking of Utah, I spent four days in Salt Lake City to see my mother, who is visiting from the Philippines and to attend my sister's wedding. I was basically cut off from the rest of the world because my laptop's charger stopped functioning about two weeks prior to that. So I didn't bring any other gadget to SLC except for my Kindle and two mobile phones. My mom is well, but she seems very bored, which is understandable because she happens to be my mother. :| She doesn't like being idle. And, frankly, this is the most idle she has been in years. I can't remember her going on any vacation in the past except for those short three (?) days in Singapore with my brother a couple of months ago. She has about a week to go, and she's giddy to go home. However, as also expected, she is having the time of her life with her first grandchild, Yana. Just seeing her sincerely happy with Yana was enough to melt my heart. And I can't blame her, I had looked forward to that vacation myself because of Yana. If I believe in any magic right now, it would be because of her-- and it would be her.

I will talk about Yana and my vacation in another entry. Right now, let's go back to our initial topic. I actually put off finishing the second book because I was distracted by Rizal's Noli Me Tangere. I decided to do that because it was starting to become very disturbing and I was in a patriotic trance. But as soon as I started reading again, I couldn't put it down. Thank goodness for good books, I thought I would lose my sanity when my laptop broke. During my 7-hour flight to Utah and another 7 back to Indianapolis, I only alternated between napping and reading. I don't even remember getting up for a restroom break; when I would wake up from a nap, my hand would automatically reach for my Kindle.



WARNING: SPOILERS AHEAD

The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo and The Girl Who Played with Fire are both very well-written, several chapters were climactic and I was made to hold my breath more than once. I find Larsson's writing so vivid. The only part I got disappointed was when Ronald Niedermann a.k.a. "The Giant" ran for his life after imagining that Salander turned into some kind of zombie. I mean, seriously? An almost 7-foot gym junkie? A flick of his wrist against your chest can break your ribs; he has superhuman strength. To top it off, he has congenital analgesia, therefore, he is unable to feel pain. And he still literally ran away like a scared six-year old? But I guess it was vital to the plot, so we could meet him again in the next book. :\ It's just that his character's personality is so ironic it's almost weak. He started off murdering three people, and he ended up being freaked out by a barely five-foot and anorexic-looking girl. :|

It is probably safe to say that the first book is independent of the others; however, the second doesn't end with a conclusion, so the minute I finished it, I immediately downloaded The Girl Who Kicked the Hornet's Nest. I read somewhere that Stieg Larsson had intended to write a series of 10 books, and the fourth book was halfway done when he passed away. He was not only a writer but was also an investigative journalist and a political activist, he's a real-life Mikael Blomkvist (the book's male protagonist) himself. The books' theme circles around sexual violence against women. His feminist views stem from his own experience of witnessing a gang rape when he was 15 years old. According to his friend, Larsson failed to intervene in the rape of a woman named Lisbeth (the name he later used for the books' female protagonist), which caused a life-long guilt and a commitment to protect women. He had tried to personally apologize to Lisbeth, but she never accepted. I guess he decided to write the series also as a form of apology. And he ended up writing a series of international bestsellers, which have been adapted into movies.

Reading time.

Today's lesson: ENJOY THE SMALL THINGS IN LIFE, LIKE A GOOD BOOK. :)