All pooped out and where is my venti mocha anyway?

This was after a very long day during the internecine corporate struggle. Ah, I’ve turned out to be the corporate monkey after all, regardless of my spite towards it. Hey you do it well or you don’t do it at all right?

I was mainly surly because I was waiting for my coffee.

That Dark Damp Basement Staircase Leads To Your Head

"This is one tough baby to write, I don't even know if I am making things worse by bringing this out and God forbid pushing someone into the door. Yet it's a weekend, and even then all dances with Hypnos come with daybreak and just last a couple of hours at the most. Time has been spent with the muse too. Which nevertheless still made me unable to sleep. And here I find myself, with a sink full of dirty dishes, an unmade bed, a pot of stale coffee and cigarettes attempting to make sense of it all."

It all started I think about two and a half decades ago. I had thought I was playing under the blankets with an older female cousin, which somehow turned ugly. What she did to me felt good, but there was a stirring in me that said it was ugly at the same time. I remember softly crying as she reassured me that it was all "perfectly all right". That it was where the nanny soaped really well so that these could be done.

That incident occurred some more times after that, until one day I came home from playing, I saw her boarding one of our cars and the household driver loading all her things into it. She got sent to Granny in the province to be exiled.I learned about the reason a couple of months after that. I was on my way to pee when I chanced upon my mom talking to one of her sisters. Apparently she had "unnatural appetites". Since she was an orphan then, there had been no other place to take her except to Granny's.

I remember racing back to my bedroom, the urge forgotten, my mind racing and my face flushed with shame. Was that what I was now too? Unnatural?

*To be continued.....

Three Mornings of Solitude

Three accounts. Policy Administration. Property Claims Processing. Commercial Claims Processing. Five Countries that include two Mandarin speaking nations. Sometimes it’s so freaking fast you barely hear yourself think.

Three days in a quiet secluded enclave of the islands. Surf. Sun. Sand. A quiet hotel. Shake stalls. Nipa coffee huts. Away from everything. I didn’t even bring my laptop, wi-fi access and did not open my phone.

This is what weekends are supposed to look like. Long ones since the pay is just really for four hours of work everyday. That’s what the contract says anyway.

I really have to get this balancing thing down. And guess what? I think I’m finally starting to learn.

Supersize Me Please!

know, I know. Thirty three and the body starts slowing down, so I have to watch the LDL and Cholesterol and blood sugar.

I get that. But…. I get this too.

Dig the new Wendy’s Baconator. Three beef patties and a generous sprinkling of bacon to surefire clog up those arteries like gonk on an engine.

I did two extra laps of the jogging route to compensate for my unfaithfulness to the diet. Hell, who am I kidding? I didn’t.

Yummy!

Polish-ies and Prose-ehh-Diors

I hate being mediocre. I am so scared I am. Oftentimes I end up botching things because I worry too much and kill the proverbial soup.

Very few people get me, and those that do need clarification. I am vague according to most folks and I scratch my head. I've been accused a lot of times of being "sagey". Whatever the hell that means.

I am dull. Yet am working on polishing myself. There are quite a number of folks who have stayed too to do it. I wonder what they get out of it.

I love to write. I do'n't give a rat's bee-hind anyway if you don't agree with what I write. I smirk at the thought of someone shaking their fists. It means they read everything. Ain't that dumb junior?

I love the good things in life. Both free and expensive. Acquired the taste. Like for muscles. (was that a pun or was in topographical error? tee hee)

I'd poison you and your family's brains given half the chance.

I am arrogant. But never malicious.

I put my foot in my mouth. And enjoy the communal embarassment it brings.

I like to pretend I'm stupid. Then hit you with a BAT. Which means I'm violent, not intelligent.

I contradict myself and my policies. Whenever occasion and vice applies.

I have three offers from firms right now for a higher post than what I currently have. Six figures. I've been an *ss most of the time so I guess I am a lackey donkey. (again, for the dambass, hint hint)

MRT Commuter Files – Full Contact Fighting Skills Required

The train doors open. It is a promise of wealth, redemption and Nirvana. Entering would mean transport commencing to that place where you hopefully distill your dreams into useable reality. You’ve taken time to prep yourself for the day, crisp ironed clothes, shined shoes, hair made up, and cologne. The day is to start full of promise. You try to take one step, to enter that gleaming cabin, and all hell breaks loose.

Suddenly you’re crushed in a wall of people, an elbow get jammed in your throat, a shoulder shoving you towards the left and another one pushing you to the right. You’re getting stepped on, and people are using you as a fulcrum to propel themselves forward. Worse, some pervert rubs his pecker into you, and he does not care if you’re Adam or Eve. What on earth happened?

Well on the MRT, education and culture does not play a factor. It is the law of the jungle that prevails, meaning the stronger you are the better off you are. Forget about lines, politeness and courtesy. Forget about letting women and children sit, let alone go first through the door. Forget about the elderly, after all they resort to hitting you with umbrellas or bags anyway.

The only rule that remains is, avoid getting run over by the train. The guards pretty much let everything slide as long as there are no closed fists flying. So feel free to use everything, like bending your knees and then launching yourself into that throng at the proper instant to get yourself a prime space. Or dip your shoulders and pretend you’re getting pushed so you can cut-off that line-cutter’s path to the train door and get yourself in. You get revenge and satisfaction all at the same time. Remember this, most of everyone will be fighting like hell to get themselves into the coach, they will be resorting to all manner of tricks, they will be cursing and verbally assaulting your sensibilities while they try to get the upper hand, but at the end of it, everyone is just relieved to not have to wait a little longer that they let it pass. Until it’s the time to go down, and the battle resumes yet again.

Do you need a useful tip? Learn Karate.

MRT Commuter Files – What’s up with the Mad Dash to the Turnstiles?

At the cost of the pain of admission, both literal and figurative, allow me to say that I am a commuter. For now; as I have not bought a new car yet. There is this phenomenon that I’ve noticed since starting to take the MRT to and from work. As the train glides to a halt the collective human body starts to stiffen, coiling like a spring and then launches with ferocity as the doors open. Braveheart could not have found a better rabble to follow him to the charge.

It has been a cause for amusement for me at first and then wonderment, which has now turned to plain curiosity. More than once this week I’ve caught myself almost tapping the person in front of me to ask why this daily ritual occurs. I maybe missing a huge portion of my life by mot being a part of it and it galls me no end. I end up retracting my hand and heading to my cave, dejected and disappointed. So here I find myself writing what I cannot ask, and maybe if one of the runners read it, would be kind enough to answer.

Here are my guesses to why this ritual occurs:

· It is a daily patriotic gesture, like the current fad of the sun and stars tee. The runners are imitating the great Andres Bonifacio

· There is a secret contest, the winner being the most consistent top finisher. The MRT honchos view the surveillance tapes and decide the weekly, monthly and annual winners

· It is training to join The Amazing Race

· As a part of cost cutting due to the current economic conditions, the companies the runners work for have foregone toilets and/or running water and hence, everyone is running home to pee or crap

· People want to catch Arnold Clavio or Noli De Castro or whoever supposedly non-partisan newscaster is on

· Manny Pacquiao is the contestant for “Dell or Noodle” errs…. I mean “Deal or No Deal” and it’s on permanent re-run

· There is a slap happy telenovela on the telly that’s taking the country by storm

· The Philippine government has allowed porn on free telly from five in the afternoon to seven in the evening

· People have taken the phrase “rat race” too seriously

· The runners were not really listening when “RUSH HOUR” was explained in class

· The runners have incredibly wonderful spouses….bed bed bed baby

· The runners incredibly wonderful spouses are having a romp with the wonderful neighbor

· In the absence of career growth, the mad dash is to exorcise all that unused competitive juice

· The last one is a rotten egg?

So You Think You Can Manage People

You find yourself angsty about getting leapfrogged or you crashed on the interview again. Or maybe you can't get to the next managerial level. Or maybe you haven't felt like you have reached the trough yet, and wonder why your team is collapsing around you. Regardless of what people say and how we all say we are individuals we all fall prey to certain factors, that are generalized and if used effectively can lay the gorundwork for a harmonious team. Or at least a team you got buy-in from. So let's see; what do you do with -

A. Subordinate who talks the talk yet has poor quality or has slipshod work (doesn't have to be an agent, could be an RTA,QA Sup, Ops Sup, RTA Sup, Line Manager whose work needs double checking).

B. Subordinate who likes to do extended hours, but it's because the work is not finished in the time frame that is acceptable.

C. Subordinate who always complains about having a lot to do, when the workload is partitioned and accountabilities defined. Then applies for the next level.

D. Subordinate who isn't meeting key results indicators but is a kiss-*ss

E. Subordinate who is clueless (e.g. it's alright to go on AUX or to leave your post indefinitely, you get paid anyway)

F. Subordinate who raises hell about pay and appraisals yet has been lagging behind and is undependable

G. Subordinate who is dependable but is unbelievably learning handicapped

H. Subordinate who cannot speak straight english, never mind having an accent

I. Subordinate who had been previously your go to person but now cannot stand the sight of you

REQUIESCAT IN PACE - Erwin Bercasio

Around three years ago there was this gangly yet insanely cheerful gay guy that joined our inbound sales team. He was generally liked by the team and had forged friendships.

I left two years ago to join another start up team within the same company and we parted ways. The next time I saw him was early this year while I was smoking outside the lobby of one of the more known BPO's in the country. I had laughed when he asked if I was joining the firm and I reassured him that I thought this new company he was with was fine it was just not for me.

I'd bump into him occasionally and we'd smile and wave, we weren't really on speaking terms but he was always polite to a former superior which was heart warming. Then suddenly I didn't bump into him anymore.

I found out two weeks ago that he was in a coma. Yesterday that he went back to our maker. We weren't really close, I had never been invited to his birthday get together or he to mine, but we were cordial and he was a good person.

Taken too early. My condolences to your loved ones in this time of grief. May your soul rest in peace Wehn and say hi to heaven for us.

7 remittance firm execs charged for failing to remit OFW's money - Yahoo! Philippines News

7 remittance firm execs charged for failing to remit OFW's money - Yahoo! Philippines News

Now this one is something that makes you want to say yes to flogging and public beheadings. For people to do this when Pinoys brave the pain of separation and isolation not to mention the hazards of living as an immigrant (well truth be told we are a second class set of citizens in our own country but that's another story altogether) to try and eke out a decent living and help their families that remain in the country is just downright appalling.

Imagine if you were paying for a house mortgage so you'd have somewhere to retire and you lose it because these people hoodwinked you, or that someone was waiting for it to get himself out of the ICU.

Word of caution here from someone who was a migrant before too. Use the banks. A 2 peso mark-up is negligible when you lose all that you sent. Try and avoid these remittance companies altogether. Get with the program folks, it's the age of the internet and mobile banking. Now for you folks who are aware and receive remittances make sure you educate your relatives on how to go about electronic banking, I've seen countless pinoys living in first world countries and keep the "Saudi Boy" mentality. The door to door padala is so last century.

Enforce total ban on endosulfan in 2009, solon dares FPA - Yahoo! Philippines News

Oh this is fun. Well I know that their father was a great man, which had led them to get hmm, elected after he joined our creator, but seriously they turned out to be irksome with all the blah that they had. Anyway we all know that Pinoys love drama and boy do these siblings know how to rattle the bars.

So two years to election year and we do have to keep the name fresh right? Although, come to think of it - would it not be really beneficial to go after the shipping lines that was at fault (undeclared cargo, didn't heed warnings, etc.) rather than go after a government agency just because you are not with the administration? The two companies who are allowed to use it are well, allowed. So no real issues there right? Makes you wonder what the motivations are doesn't it?

Enforce total ban on endosulfan in 2009, solon dares FPA - Yahoo! Philippines News

The Long Held-up Rant About The Metro Rail System

A minute ago I was enjoying my Saturday, marinating in bed, fussing over the WMP tag editor for my music files and having a generally fine early afternoon.

Like it was meant to stay quiet huh? I got bugged to shave, bathe, eat bitter gourd and do the MRT bit that I've been meaning to do since forever. I find myself being pried from the weekend comfort zone like a slab of meat on a teflon pan.

So what do I do first? What keeps me in bed. So I blog.

This was taken on a normal day way before the X-mas rush. Begging pardon from the Yad Vashem, but it did evoke mental images of those Krakow trains during the Second World War. I had men breathing down my nape, a hard-on from some pervert scraping my thighs like clockwork (did you get your rocks off buddy?), a midget with his face right beside my underarm and my woman facing me, with her face slowly turning into a thunder cloud. I am thinking she had a scraper too.

Like wtf right? Is it too much to get a few more trains and de-clog the railway system? It's not a free service anyway. I wouldn't mind shelling out a couple of bucks more for a little space. The way it looks though, and the way that the trains arrive in always the interval it takes for them to get filled up this way tells you one thing - it is all about maximizing earnings.

Never mind that people are packed like luggage or cattle. It's all about the profit margin for the MRT management. If you ride the bus, it's the same thing. Those buses would just crawl to ensure that they dreg off all possible passengers and stop for unbelievable lengths of time that you get a stubble by the time you get to where you're going.

I hope someone from the MRT management reads this. Folks, are you even confident enough to let your relatives take the rails? How about you get a little compassion here to go along with all the money you are stuffing into your executive pockets? Hey we're just asking for a little space, not fully reclining seats. Who knows right? The judge up there might put in his book as a note - that you weren't always concerned about gilding your wallets.