Dispatches from the West

Time flies when you're having fun. Or so it seemed.  It's been five months since I flew out to California in pursuit of a life that seemed to be beyond my reach when I was in the motherland.  I left the Philippines without a clear idea of how long I was going to stay, or what I was going to do, or what future lies in store.  All I knew was that this was going to be my first vacation of some sorts, after a few years.  I jumped on the plane to Los Angeles, via Taipei, where I was blessed to have been seated next to an elderly lady who was also bound for Los Angeles.  I had mixed emotions, this being the first intercontinental trip I was taking, as well as the first out-of-country travel.  The moment the plane took off at around 1:30 pm, Phil. standard time, I was misty-eyed, as I thought of the family and friends that I was leaving behind.  What got me to leave was a very complex issue, although, looking back now, I think as though it were all part of some grand master plan for my life, since almost everything just fell into place, as perfectly as it would a jigsaw puzzle.  
I should say, my life is quite comparable to a jigsaw puzzle.  In search of those pieces, I decided to leave the country and put a stake at a life I never dreamed would be possible.  I used to scoff at people who leave the country for dreams of a better life abroad---in my mind, I thought they were cowards who do not have the face to help uplift the country from the squalor it was in.  I had a good life in Manila. I may have been a government employee over there, but I was considerably earning a salary quite enough to make me comfortable, with room here and there to make a few splurges, plus the opportunity of traveling to the countryside for work--for free. People might say I was having a blast.  Indeed I was.  When the opportunity opened itself that I was able to secure a visa to the US, I had no intention of leaving right away.  I pondered the idea really hard before I decided in May that I should go and try it out, anyway, there's absolutely nothing to lose--I have roughly a year to go on leave, and if things don't turn out well, I could always go back if I wanted to.  

Moving on, I arrived in California the tenth of July.  My aunt and cousin picked me up at the Tom Bradley International Airport at past 5 in the afternoon.  The first thing I found peculiar about the sky in California is that the sun sets in the side opposite to how it sets in the Philippines.  Hmm.. Maybe that has something to do with the positioning--I realized that I was on the occidental side of the globe, thus, the rising and setting of the sun were in a totally different orientation compared to the other side of the globe.  For three weeks I was in a daze. I thought I was dreaming of being in America.  I enjoyed looking at the houses, a far cry from the houses that I would see on the roadside every day of my life when I was in the Philippines.  Nice picket fences, plastered walls, well-manicured lawns, cars on the garage, your typical American idyll.  I was fascinated.  I was taken.  

The next couple of days saw a growing anxiety in me, the honeymoon phase of my trip was over.  It was time to go to work.  (to be continued.)

The business of being broken-hearted

My mind is in atrophy. I sit here in front of the television and just type out randomly, hoping that somehow I could make sense of all the ramblings going on in my head through writing.  Yes, I am not myself.  I haven't been myself since "the" breakup.  But the busy-ness of work has kept me from indulging on my miserable state for some time now, which could have been the reason why in the middle of belting out a Billie Holliday Song I suddenly broke down... Well, that's typical 
of me except that I'm not known for spoiling other people's fun...

In spite of this, I try to come to terms with it by trying to enter the social scene---chatting is therapy to my tired, miserable soul, and by now, I have met someone interesting online...Hopefully
this would help heal my brokenness... Welcome to my world...

FOR STARTERS

Hello Blogosphere.  It's time.

I am sure that anybody who'd come across this page will think I stole the idea from Charlotte Church's latest album, Tissues and Issues...Well, in a weird sense, yes.  But you'll have to give me credit for the wordplay as well.  Primarily, the reason why I chose this title is because I'll most probably be writing about issues, and be using up a lot of tissue in the process, for the issues that will be dealt with will be mostly about global and national issues, and personal stuff as well.  

Time and again I have always been saying there's no perfect time than now to publish my musings, though I know nobody will ever get across them anyway, but what the heck.  I planned on writing a blog for the longest time imaginable...and then the pc at home broke.   I tried once, on friendster, but then it's not really something you'd really want people who have difficulty with comprehension read, so might as well do it somewhere where I'd be shrouded with anonimity...

About me.

I'm fat. Yes, this has been a constant problem for me... I've tried lots of means to get rid of the chumminess, but, to no avail.  Well, I guess I'd better be happy with what I have.  If, come a time I lose it, well and good.  If fate dictates that I be stuck with it, then, so be it.  I'm 29 years old as I speak, a civil serf, single, not-so available, and quite happy with that fact.  The eldest in the family, I've always felt that it is a 
huge responsibility--being the one to take care of the decision-making processes.  Have two younger siblings--the one next to me being a special child, with Down's Syndrome.  The youngest is supposedly "working" on his thesis in college, and simultaneous with that, married, with one kid. We were orphaned of a father four years ago.  And that was when I started to take on much 
responsibility.  Oh God.  I'm babbling here.

Do bear with me.  This is, after all, my maiden publication.  I hope to do better next time.  
No, I WILL do better next time...