it has been a while and with valid reason. i've been nosebleeding understanding chemical compositions and pharmacokinetics and bioavailability. it's interesting but i think my right brain can only stretch so much to the left side.

as you know, am better in the arts, language (sorta) and the law (dapat lang).

math and science make me cry.

that's what's nice about my practice. there's almost always a new thing that you encounter everyday. just like 2 days ago, who would have thought that opposing counsel in a case i think he should be losing, invited me to jam with his band on saturday night? he's almost my neighbor in qc, and his band is all-male, which does not intimidate me, because it means i get to sing all the female songs.

lest you might think that the invite is also a come-on, it's not, opposing counsel is middle-aged, a daddy type, married to my sorority sister and has long hair like freddie aguilar.

last night a friend recounted her face-off with reality: i sat and listened, and found myself feeling for her, not just because she's my friend but because what she went through i am quite familiar with. i am familiar with the uncertainty, of the fall after the dive, of the hurt that comes with the knowledge that there are certain things that do really end.

fortunately for my friend, her story has not ended. it's ongoing, it's waiting to happen. and despite the sign that says "jaded" hanging on my front door, i actually am sitting on a hammock at my backyard, sipping lemonade. it's a lovely summer's day and i can't wait to see how beautifully this story is going to end.

"gone to a happy place. be back in five minutes."

it's friday night, i've finished major work this week and i've more to do next week. but for some reason i feel happy and liberated because it's friday and i'm certain that one major work will be finished and filed on monday, upon client's demand.

+++

had lunch with best friend today. as usual, we shared whatever is in our heads right now and when it was my turn, i told her i wanna get something out of my head. she thinks am overly-concerned about disclosure. apparently, some people just run around saying taboo things to people all the time.

what is it that i want to say?

that i want to be de-cluttered. (un-cluttered?)

how do you measure a year?
in daylights, in sunsets
in midnights, in cups of coffee
in inches, in miles
in laughter, in strife?

how do you measure a year in the life?
how about love?

the boy who cried wolf

the boy who has a smile on his face and a song in his heart warned me the other day that i was beginning to sound like somebody we know who pretends not to know sharon cuneta (really.) this somebody, although he is weird, is a good person and is always always kind to me, so i won't say anything else about him other than "sino'ng ginago nya?"

anyway, the boy who has a smile and a song made this comment because i had been in the habit of telling him stuff only to say later on that i was just joking. most of the time i would say jokejokejoke and expect to be scotfree. it was one of the very few times the boy who has a smile and a song would ever point out what's wrong with me (not that there's nothing wrong with me, except that he is not in a habit to tell me what's wrong with me so when he does, i know it's for real. i shut up and listen.) knowing now that he takes me seriously most of the time, i know that i must be careful with my jokejokejoke otherwise i'd be considered as the girl who cried wolf.

on to my point: i have been complaining about work and the fact that i can't stand it anymore. i know i've written about it here too many times that even you are already quite familiar with my work angst. if you think am only going through one of them bad days, maybe you're right. but let me say that this is the second day that i've cried at work. yesterday i cried because i was tired, and today, because i didn't know where the latest draft of my demand letter (a difficult one, not just your usual template) went. it was not in my folder, it went to that temporary internet file folder. anyway, everytime somebody would bring in a pile of folder i can't help but complain.

why is this big news? because i don't cry. i don't cry anymore.

this is a very badly-written post. but it's okay by me because you know how i feel? my feeling is more rotten than my writing.

dropping in to say am alive, am here, so i won't lose you, dear reader.

it's friday night and my friend is here and we're off to the spa. but am still waiting on somebody to kinda chill and let me go please. i'm so pissed that an issue is being made over the superest stupidest thing. (my friend butts in: hey, that's arguable, that's relative. i say, i don't care it's my blog.)

this is my resignation letter:

dear all.

i am leaving you.

i've realized that i will always, ALWAYS be your slave.

thank you and best regards.

me

feeling sick these days. and the rain doesn't help.

rainy days and mondays always get me down. yesterday i finished major stuff and found myself sick by the end of the day. i was totally bummed out yesterday.

these year at wimbledon the plays got suspended and delayed because of the rain. the usual notice plastered across the tv screen was:

play suspended due to rain.

the first time i saw that notice, i smiled and thought: how nice would it be if you could just tell your bosses:

work suspended due to rain.

while i live 100 meters away from the office, i don't have an umbrella. that's such a major problem.

(that photo up there is the cover of mr. c's album. credits go to him and his record producer. and layout artist. i'm an ip lawyer after all.)

i did it. the thing that has been lurking at the back of my mind, the one that has caused me worries snowballing as the days passed by--- i did it.

i finally found the inertia to touch something i should have touched a million years ago but didn't. this inertia kept me going : no bathroom break, no water break, no yosi break, no nothing. after over 5 hours, i had finished reviewing 7 reports. i hope that it's not too late to be on top of this NOW.

lucky star, please make me survive this one. oh please please please

in my 8 years of being in this profession, i've corresponded with numerous contacts worldwide. of all these contacts, i've yet to hear from a correspondent from japan who wasn't nice. i think the japanese are nice.

a correspondent asked me via fax today: how come i haven't replied to their e-mail? i replied that i did reply then.

tonight i got this fax message:

"dear ms. (me)

we appreciate your reply. moreover, we understand the situation of process for this matter, you did. thank you very much."

i don't really understand what the above note means, except that maybe the lawyer is saying that yes indeed i previously replied to their e-mail, which they didn't get, unfortunately, but that they appreciated that i replied then, and that i replied again today via fax. but there is something about the carefully handwritten note that shows the effort of the letter writer to make me understand that they appreciated my effort.

awww. i love the japanese.

so, a boy told me today that i've gotten "fat". and that it was supposed to be a compliment.

since when did that become a compliment?

anyway, i told him that i used to be conscious about gaining weight but now, i'm cool with it. and so i wonder why. why oh why am i cool with it.

because i'm lazy to go to yoga. i'm lazy to go to the gym. it's only badminton that i really like going to these days. i like it when i play well. when i don't, i try not to act affected but i don't make fun of my mistakes either. i just do my best to win the next point, the next set and the next game.

going back, a boy told me i've gotten fat and that he was supposedly complimenting me. whatever.

somebody recounted the answers to an icebreaker in a lawyers' seminar where the participants were asked to share something that's weird about themselves. one bulky but witty guy shared that despite his size, he is fit. another said she is tone-deaf. while listening to this kwento, i silently wondered what i would have said had i been there.

what is weird about me?

...

....

my friends/officemates would probably say that i talk to myself... but this is not entirely true. i don't talk to myself; i think out loud.

i discussed this with a friend over alcohol last friday, and i've realized the world of a difference between "talking to me" and "thinking out loud": i don't talk to me. i don't talk to me because if i do, it would involve some serious thinking, some going into a zone that i've been avoiding going to these past year... i don't like talking to me because i don't know what to say. worse, i have nothing to say. how bad is that? to have nothing to say to yourself.

now in thinking out loud you just verbalize your thoughts, and these thoughts may be about anything and everything that has nothing to do with yourself. which is less heavy than talking to yourself for the reason i've illustrated above.

my friend commented: i'm surprised because you seem to be somebody who in fact overthinks things.

i said: that's just another thing! you may be the nth person to tell me that i think too much.

which is just weird when i don't even want to go into "that zone" when i think, because when i do, well, i overthink things. and by the time i'm done overthinking the food has become stale, the ride over.

so i told my friend, when am alone, i busy myself with things, like keep the TV on, even when am not really watching. i do my laundry. i clean up. anything, except read because when i read it becomes silent and i'm confronted with the stillness of my own company.