Sunday, February 27, 2005
the long and winding weekend
Ahhh. No work on Friday. Ahhh. Thank goodness it was declared a holiday (in celebration of the EDSA revolution) because Thursday, we were at work until 12 midnight rushing freakin' concepts for client. Sigh. Anyways, here's a simple run-down of what transpired during the long weekend.
Sleep 'till 2PM. Go to Enchanted Kingdom with Chips' officemates. Start everything off by watching the guys go berzerk on the bump-cars. Eat ice cream. Meet up with Tin and her boy Mark. Anchors Away. Space Shuttle. Go on the Rialto and get dizzy because of the low-resolution screen and bad robotic seats. Get drenched in the Rio Grande Rapids. Eat a really good bacon cheeseburger for dinner. Guys go berzerk once again on them basketball shooting things. Watch some tribal fire dance people. Watch fireworks. Giant Ferris Wheel. Space Shuttle again (oh wait, or was that the other way around...). Discover that Chips is scared of the Log Jam (more than the Space Shuttle). To tip the whole trip off, get drenched again on the Rapids. This redefined "drenched". Water dripping. I took of my crochet cardigan and could squeeze water out of it. Went home stinking. Good thing Chips had leather seats.
Wake up at 7 AM (sooo un-me). Go to the Clarkhatch (our gym) badminton session. Not a tourney. Just a friendly game kinda thing. Grateful for the Mcdo brewed coffee... because it helped in making me not seem like a wuss. Yes, I can serve that morning. Showered. Did a little shopping. Bought Tweezerman Eyelash Curlers (not-so cheap version of Shu Eumuras). Went home to meet with my sister and Apester. Head to the Gateway mall. Stop myself from buying Fornarina "you sexy bitch" green pumps (30% off but still a whopping 4K). I would've felt so much better if they didn't have the word "Sale" on them. Sigh. Watch Firedance. They had these big cool drums going. They're like energizer bunnies. Just pounding and pounding. Awesome. If that was me, I would've hit somene with the stick already. Lighting was excellent. Girls in thongs. Guys with to-die-for bodies. They did that aerial acrobatic thing using only yards of cloth suspended from the ceiling. And oooh the acrobatic man. Flex that body! Flex! Lurvley. Just lurvley.
Sleep. Sleep. Sleep until 3 PM. Go to church. Play badminton... again. Why am I doing this to myself. Alaxan. Alaxan. Ben Gay. Ahhhh. Damn. Work tomorrow.
Wednesday, February 23, 2005
Did you know that 90% of household dust is composed of dead skin cells? Yuck. But could be true. Because a person can shed an average of 40 kilos of skin in a lifetime. Yes. That much. Can you imagine that? If you didn't shed skin, you'd be 40 kilos heavier! And if you shed more... could you be lighter? Hey, that can be a campaign for exfoliation... you can lose weight with it!
But that household dust thing got me thinking. What about them uninhabited houses? Who sheds skin there? Did the other 10% just go forthe and multiply? And what about the conception (of my mom, at least) that it's less dusty in the States? Do they shed less?
Bah. Anyway, whatever. Just some useless discussion points for your brain to nibble on. If it's nibble-able.
Monday, February 21, 2005
I've got work tomorrow (or should I say later). And I'm not yet asleep. I've just finished installing Morpheus, a p2p software, to replace my now kaput Kazaa. I played badminton this afternoon, which has gotten my entire right side incredibly sore. I am beyond wondering why I'm not out cold yet.
The other thing is... dinner was unbelievable. I had so many peices of steak (swimming in my dad's mushroom sauce) and a good serving of pansit plus some grilled tilapia. Ah steak. It's so my weakness. So here I am full and bloated but not sleepy. Arg.
Someone please swing a baseball bat to the general direction of my head.
Sunday, February 20, 2005
This post was inspired by Cat's message on my tagboard (yes, I don't like flowers)... and also since the week of hearts is at its wake. Don't get me wrong, I'm as (hopelessly) romantic as any girl. I cry myself through Judith McNaught novels. A sentimental song can get me teary-eyed before it even reaches the chorus. Oh man, and if I'm PMS-ing? I can cry just sitting by myself in the dark. I'm a sap too. And a sucker for romantic surprises.
I guess that's it. Surprises. Flowers just doesn't do it for me (beyond the fact that they're butterfly-related). Especially on Valentines, which is so predictable. So are flowers on an anniversary, on a birthday... so on and so forth. More than flowers, what I really don't like is "predictable". It would mean so much more if it was even just a single flower (it need not be a rose) given to you "just because". Not because an occasion propels your partner to do so.
Okay since we're on the topic of romance and "normal" romantic practices. Another thing that I don't like is when there's a booth in a resto and a couple is both on one side. Argh I just hate that. It looks like we're watching a movie. I recall when Chips and I were just a "few days old", we were eating in Sbarro's and he motioned to sit beside me. I told him off frankly, "what are you doing?". And he just stood there, dumbfounded. Sitting beside you, he replied. I gave him a what-are-you-thinking look. Uhh... no, I said simply (sungit ba?). Since then, he asks my permission if he wanted to sit beside me. I let him only when (1) the airconditioning in the place is unforgivable and (2) if I'm moody, in pain, or PMS-ing and need some comforting. He attempted last valentine's. Eeek! No! If he did, we would be a whole row of couples sitting like such. Over my dead body. How are we going to talk anyway? How are we going to properly share food? Where's the eye contact? Bah.
It must be difficult, you might think, to celebrate a milestone with me. I'm not high maintenance really. I'm happy if dinner was an all-beef shawarma with cheese at the Food Channel. Or a meal at Tapa King. Among the whoop-dee-doo gifts Chips has given? An exacto-knife with a matching cutting board. A glass pallette he had carved for when I painted (I bawled when he gave this). A brown bikini from Roxy (okay so that cost quite some moolah). A "Little Book of Crap" from Fully Booked. Shoes (yah, who could go wrong with shoes). And a ring (not that kind). He's been keeping it up so far, throughout the four years. And he'd better keep it up for more years too. Hint, hint.
I don't think I'm a difficult girlfriend, really. I'm sure all you other girls would have your quirks too.
***On another note, let me introduce everyone to Obi-wan Kenobi - our 2-month old shih-tzu. He's so small that I had to buy him a bell so we'd know where he was. He currently thinks that Liam's ponytail is a teether and gnaws on it everytime he gets the chance (which often results to some dog-wrestling). He bites on everything from the hem of your skirt or pants to your slippers. You'd like to scold him... but he's just the cutest little thing.
Thursday, February 17, 2005
so, what do you do?
I've been meaning to write about my often misunderstood job description... or the entire industry I'm in for that matter. It just hasn't happened really in detail, except for rants here and there. I always get this "so, what do you do" comment a lot. Especially if I say that I'm in Accounts Management in an advertising agency. Okay, so what. The final trigger to this post-writing? A short anecdote by a co-worker (FL) and her copywriter boyfriend (G). FL meets up with her friend who is virtually unrelated and unaffected by the industry of advertising. So the friend, upon knowing that the couple both worked in an agency, asked what products they "make ads for" (ahem, the correct term is "handle" and they are called "accounts"). So they give a run-down of the accounts they handle. The friend gives them a furrowed-brow look and retorts - pare naman, ganon? kahit ako, kaya ko gawin yun eh. My thought balloon: Suntok sa buwan gusto mo?
Some people just don't know what we go through. It's not just drawing, shooting and airing. There are business objectives, consumer insights, strategies and clients you have to please (and present storyboards/scripts to sometimes at least three times). Oh and I couldn't forget Adboard. Mga hinayupak sila, as my big boss would describe them. Well, she says the same about everyone (again in her words) na pinadadaan tayo sa butas ng karayom. Advertising is just not creativity (or the lack of). It's not just an announcement. It needs to be relevant. It needs to touch and move your target market. It needs to satisfy a business goal. Of course this can all be thrown off by a stupid client or any other harmful element (parang germs).
So okay. In this whole scheme of things, I am the account manager. So then people ask me - so, you make the ad? Ummm... yeah. You think of the ad? Uhhh... actually creatives do that. So what do you do? I manage the account. Blank stare. At this point, I heave a deep sigh. It's a team effort, I explain. We make sure that everything's on track. We are the bridge between the client and the agency. Ah, they say, so you just tell the creatives what to do. Uh no. We think too. A lot of thinking involved. How's the business? Is this on-strategy? Will consumers relate to this? Will client be satisfied with this? What is the big idea? How do we expand this ad and make it timeless and brand-building? What is the current market scenario? What's competition doing? I have no idea how it would be actually, if account managers didn't exist. It's not that I'm putting my post on a pedestal. It's usually something we muse about too, when creatives think we don't do anything but follow them up or when clients think that the whole agency is at their beck and call. Sigh. At times I wonder if this job has turned me into a masochist.
Yah. That's it. What do I do? Professional masochist.
I think I've already written this term somewhere already. Oh well. No harm in repeating.
Tuesday, February 15, 2005
It seems like a big cloud rests atop me today. My head is spinning like anything. Actually it seems like it's spinning and throbbing at the same time. I feel like some tumbleweed rolling across a desert. Mindlessly rolling. Not being able to help rolling. Not like rolling is helping. So much desert to roll over, so little time.
I heard a beautiful song over the radio this morning. I'm forcing myself to squeeze some motivation, however little, from its words. Because here I am again, slumped and hunched over, finding no purpose in this mud-toiling (or desert-rolling). I apologize for such a post following the free-spirited posts below, how anti-climactic I know. But I hope you would appreciate this song, which is probably the only source of a smile, if ever one even threatens my lips:
SHOW YOU LOVE - JARS OF CLAY
Speak- say the words that no one else will ever say
Love- love like the world we know is over in a day
I'm gonna show you a love in every language
I'm gonna speak with the words that need no form
I'm gonna give you what you never had before
You're beautiful and I am weakened by the force of your eyes
So shine bright to separate the truth from the lies
I'm gonna show you love
I'm gonna show you a love in every language
I'm gonna speak with the words that need no form
I'm gonna give you what you never had before
So tie me to a tree and let the smoke and ash collect
No, I won't regret to let love do what love will let
We can drown in mixed emotions or walk across an angry sea
This is the cost of being free.
Monday, February 14, 2005
I hope I satisfy Jojo's curiosity of my psyche - her motivation for tagging me this post. But in the end, it may just cause more abstraction. Well, I don't know. Be the judge. I usually don't answer surveys. But since music is so close to my heart, here it is...
What is the total amount of music in your PC? Around 2 Gig and still growing. Can't wait to get an MP3 player. Maybe cash will drop from the sky.
Who are the 3 people you're going to pass this stick to?
Sunday, February 13, 2005
oh my gawd
I did it. I can't believe it. It has finally happened. I am metamorphosized! The long hours fiddling manual-less with Dreamweaver has actually paid off. I feel like a proud parent watching her kid graduating. Hah! I could just break into a dance.
I feel that this is me. Now I can say that this blog is truly mine. The background was originally sketched then enhanced with filters in Adobe Photoshop. The layout is similar to my past template, and I shall acknowledge Armina for that. I'm just hoping that this looks decent in any browser. If there's anything quirky happening as you view this (i.e. overlapping, unprecedented cropping), please tell me.
I can't really put proper cohesion to this post... if you notice. I just can't describe my elation. Maybe an Al Pacino is the closest. Hooo-waaaaa!
Thursday, February 10, 2005
Yesterday was Ash Wednesday. A day of fasting and abstinence. I dreaded the no-meat thing. Meat is my sole source of sustainance. I eat minimal veggies and I don't like seafood. So I usually abstain from coffee and just eat meat. Coffee, for those who know me, is the reason why my blood flows during the day. But come Lent, I'd rather be catching Zzz's than an ulcer.
The thing is, I haven't been getting good sleep (as if I get enough sleep anyway) lately. So yesterday I was barely awake as I trudged to work. I couldn't, for the life of me, keep my senses alive and it felt like my neck would let go of my head at any moment. I therefore opted to take coffee and not eat meat that day. Gad. It felt like PMS.
This is me without meat:
- highly irritable
Yep. Surely a sacrifice to have been with me that day. All in the spirit of Lent.
Friday, February 04, 2005
another zoe pic
Here's Zoe with my mom. Awww... aren't babies just so cute. Anything they do is cute. A simple yawn can be absolutely adorable. And grown-ups can't achieve the same effect at all.
Wednesday, February 02, 2005
I've been consumed by much stress and negativity lately. To counter it all off, let me tell you about Zoe, who is now my inaanak. Yep, I was actually chosen to be her godmother at her baptism. Good thing I didn't have to carry her... because I had one too many Malibu's the night before. And I don't even know how to carry babies to begin with.
She was asleep throughout the whole ceremony (it was at around 10:30 am) and no matter how much you coochie-coo her, she wouldn't wake up. Hmmm... reminds me of us Foz's at that time of the morning. Come noon-ish, she was somewhat awake. By 1 pm, she was mighty perky. Yep, it's so a Foz trait.
Anyway, I wouldn't want to yammer. Here's a pic of her and her great-grandmother. I'll let the picture speak for itself.
hi great lola!
Sometimes bored. Most of the time oddly alive. Phobic of butterflies. Creatively suppressed. Hungry for coffee and shoes. This is my subconscious talking... at times interrupted by my reality.
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