I had not been reading fiction lately. In fact I had not been reading anything literary these past months, nor had I been watching plays nor movies. And we all know TV can hardly be considered literary. (Yes, I'm a snob.) The void was not immediately apparent, though, as my days were pretty much filled with words upon words of analyses of the ever-changing political landscape that was the Middle Kingdom. Yet my spur of the moment trip to Powerbooks on Saturday exposed the jarring hole. The realization was so sudden and unexpected. I had almost forgotten what I was missing.

Or perhaps I needed a justification for my purchase of the two books. I always feel the need to justify buying things, it's almost an illness. So I bought two books: a collection of short stories by the Canadian writer Carol Shields and a compilation of interviews of creative writers on the way they write, aptly titled, "The Way We Write." I couldn't wait to start reading them but it was late and I was tired so they had to wait.

I started on the interviews first, over a large flavored coffee at Coffee Bean and Tea Leaf on a bright Sunday afternoon. Again, something I hadn't done in a long time. There is something about the unfolding of people's stories that never fails to move me and, cliche of cliches, make me feel more human. But that has become a luxury.

Yet another workweek starts and I have to put off my humanity in favor of more important issues for more important people. Stories will have to wait.

About a week ago, I overheard my sister Nuna telling our friends that she wished I would finally get myself a boyfriend, the reason being it had been a long time since I last had one. She would probably only know that I heard her when she reads this... which is right about... now. There. Hmp, talking about me behind my back. :p

And then last Saturday, after a hearty meal in Tapa King and while waiting for the halo-halo, she said that maybe I should go out more so I could meet more boylets. I had to ask again to clarify that she meant "me," as in, "I" have to go out more? Yes, of course. For a while I thought we were gossiping about someone. So where do I go about finding this boylet who has the ability to magically change my life? "Why don't you join one of those dating events?" "Speed dating?" "Yes!"

Now, I am a very lazy person. In addition to that, I am also very stingy. I refuse to join speed dating events (even as I had helped organize one before) because I would much rather buy myself something nice instead of paying for an overpriced dinner. Not that I don't believe in speed dating. I just cannot bring myself to cough up the money required to attend one.

And I do admit to having very high standards. Well-meaning friends would ask, "So what's your type?" hoping to set me up with their single guy friends. Without batting an eyelash, I would retort, "Why, nothing short of perfection." "No, really, what's your type?" as if I was joking. "Really, he has to be perfect." "But nobody's perfect," would come the reply, four out of five times, I swear. But you asked for my type and that's my type!

Of course "perfect" is relative. It's just that I don't want to have to enumerate all of these traits that everyone wants anyway. Really, would you rather that I rattle off smart (oops, not just smart... more like brilliant), sweet, charming, sensitive, responsible, sincere, affectionate, funny, articulate, successful, ambitious, kind, loving, cute, and open-minded? In random order, of course. I mean, would you? And doesn't it already follow that any woman would want a man who's all of those and then some?

And then people would ask why I don't have a boyfriend. Because there's a dearth of brilliant, sweet, charming, sensitive, responsible, sincere, affectionate, funny, articulate, successful, ambitious, kind, loving, cute, and open-minded men that's why! (In the remote chance that you are all of these, AND a man--a straight man, that is, and single--that's important too!; please come forward.)

Not that I haven't seriously wondered enough about my lack of a lovelife. In fact, I've wondered so much that I have gotten so sick and tired of wondering about it. Now I just spend the time reading about Mao Tse Tung's lovelife (the asshole, cheating on his wife!) because really, what else is there left to do?

Oh. And in another remote chance that you actually know of a living, breathing single straight man who is all of the adjectives above but who for some reason might not be able to read this, do me and my sister a favor and forward this to him. Thanks!

As I was going home last Friday night, I noticed a woman wearing a black burkha (you know that head garment that basically covers the whole head and has only a slit for the eyes) sitting in the innermost part of the jeepney. Because she was dressed in dark colors, it was easy to miss her but once you'd seen her, it was impossible to ignore her. At first I was curious so I watched her. And because she was covered from head to toe save for her eyes and hands, there was that sense of watching something that could not watch back.

And then I got paranoid.

Thoughts flashed: She could be a holdupper pretending to be a Muslim so she could cover her face!

I watched even more.

The two women across from me were talking. One said, "Teka kinakabahan ako. Parang gusto ko na bumaba. (Wait, this is making me nervous. I think I want to get off.)" Friend replied, "Tara, baba na tayo. (Let's get off here.)"

Now that's mean, I thought.

I watched the woman some more. That's a pretty big bag. Wait, where's her hand? What's inside her bag? What if her hand's inside her bag, fingering a gun that she would point at us at just precisely the right time? What if she's a suicide bomber? What if she's not even a she?

Know that I am paranoid by nature. Compound that with the fact that everyday I read about attempted terrorist attacks, real or imagined. Really, it's like breakfast: a bus exploded in Shanghai. Pfft. A woman was reportedly caught with inflammable liquid onboard a flight going to Beijing. Um, is it time for lunch now?

Still I fought the urge to get off the jeepney. I was not going to discriminate against people of a different faith. I was not going to be mean to this innocent woman who did nothing wrong to me nor to anyone I know. I was not going to be one of those ignorant... wa-wait, I was not going to be in the headlines the next day!

Just make your hands visible, lady. Please. There, there. One, two. Two hands in sight. Ok, maybe five more minutes before my stop. Eyes on the hands...

Yes. Yes, I know. I am very, very ashamed of myself. I should not be thinking these thoughts.

I tried not to breathe an audible sigh of relief when we got to my stop. I got off the jeepney then walked fast. Away before it could explode.

Of course it did not explode and I berated myself even more.

And then she was there with me again on the jeepney last night. I was sitting beside the driver. I turned around and there she was right behind the driver.

The fact that nothing terroristic happened the last time should have been enough reassurance that nothing would happen again this time. But I could see her dark presence out of the corner of my left eye. And I couldn't keep watch of the hands this time.

And so I am here confirming that no jeepney was bombed last night.

And I am very, very, very ashamed of myself. Please forgive me.

I am taking a break from writing my special report on China's social unrest to retain my sanity. At least whatever's left of it. If you remember how it was back in school, two weeks before the final paper is due, then you'd have a fairly good idea how I feel every time. At best. Because unlike being in school where you have the whole term or at least half the term to fret about what to write, I have all of two weeks. And my heart would beat even faster as the days start passing me by...

As if that wasn't bad enough, I now also write special reports on top of the regular reports. It's like another term paper, only the deadline is more flexible. But not too much because then it would never get written. That's what I'm doing now: making sure it gets written. But then what's so special about it is that its scope is usually wider and the information more detailed. So I'm trying to work those in, aside from just getting it written.

The sense of intimidation emanates from the fact that I have only quite recently started serious reading of Chinese affairs. Every time I approach a topic, I would have at least 30 pages of research (font 9 because I want to save as much paper as I could) to read through before I can confidently convince myself that I know enough of it to write a credible article. And that's still only little crumbs of a much bigger cake that is China itself. Five thousand years of civilization! Can anyone blame me for feeling inadequate? I am always just trying to catch up at best.

And so everyday I calm my nerves enough to take a little bite and chew what I could handle. Never mind that it terrifies me to read about, we're not even talking about writing yet, inflation and how the yuan's rise impact the lives of both foreign investors and ordinary Chinese. Never mind that I didn't even know where Tibet was on the map previous to the riots that erupted there in March. Never mind that I could not identify more than half of the African countries China is now dealing with if not because of an article I had to write about the Sino-African relations.

And then comes the confession. Some masochistic part of me enjoys this biweekly torture. Maybe precisely because it reminds me of school. Or maybe because I am genuinely interested in the readings, except more often than not I wasn't made aware of their existence until I was already chewing on them. Or maybe I really am just a masochist.

And so break's over. Time to cram for my term paper due tomorrow.

So I was hanging out at the Mindstorm office, leafing through an old issue of Time Magazine... It's weird but everything I do now has to be related to China somehow. I couldn't help but leaf through Time and see if I could find anything on China that I might be able to use some time in the future. It feels like I learned so much about China these past two and a half months than at any time in my life.

But that's not really the point of this entry. I got sidetracked as early as the second sentence. So going back, I was leafing through Time and I saw a blurb about Miranda July's book. I didn't even know she has a book. I greatly enjoyed two films that I saw by her so that got me excited. Plus the blurb said, "The lives of misfits told in quirky, almost unbearably intense short stories." And then I suddenly missed writing.

Following that was a conversation with Artie how we also want to write intense stories. Unbearable ones, too. Sigh.

So I'm gonna try and write a short story this weekend. Hopefully, an unbearably intense one. I owe myself that much.

It has occurred to me that my poor neglected Multiply has not had a single entry for almost two months now. My social calendar, too, does not seem to see much activity these days. It being a Friday night, I have decided to (no, not have a social life but something better!) update my blog!! Nothing exciting to report, really, except that I know my two readers out there are curious about what I've been up to so here goes:

• I've transferred jobs, which most of you already know. Yeah, no big surprises there being the Touch-and-Go job-hopper Joni that I am. As a result of the new job, I am now very knowledgeable about all things Chinese. Okay, maybe not all. Let's just put it this way: on any given day, I would have read scores and scores of articles on China and whatever current issue is plaguing it. That is not an exaggeration.
  
• I've started working out. In a week, I exercise about two or three times before going to work in addition to the two yoga classes that I attend. I like the painfully sweet feeling of sore muscles healing.
  
• I joined the Women's Groups march denouncing GMA's leadership in Mendiola on International Women's Day and almost got into an ugly fight with the police. Well, it would have turned ugly if I hadn't controlled myself.
  
• I got myself an ipod. I know, I know. That's really quite extravagant of me but sigh. Now I'm trying to find the time to fill in 80gb of memory! Send me songs! TV shows or movies! Whatever! Just send them to me please.
  
• I went beaching in Bataan and shopping in Subic with family on Holy Saturday (is that what it's called?). As usual, Baby Iel took the spotlight with her super cute and kikay poses. I'm still waiting for her mom to post the pictures... *hint hint.
• I got myself a stalker. Not that I intentionally planned to have one but it was, as most things in my life, because of my stupidity that this little episode in my life had to happen. Notice that I used the past tense, hopeful that the fact that he neither called nor texted today means he has given up and I will very soon be able to look back and laugh at this. Details will be given when that time has come when I am already laughing about it. Be patient.
  

So there. Now give me updates on your lives. I never seem to see anyone anymore.

Even the most hardened pessimist could not help but hope that perhaps, Jun Lozada can be that guy who can finally expose the Arroyo administration for what it really is: corrupt and self-serving. Because hell, we all know that it IS corrupt, but so far, not even coups had managed to topple it down.

I first heard of the ZTE controversy when JDV III cried foul, exchanged heated words with FG Arroyo, then promptly left the country. I am not especially fond of JDV and his clan but even then, I believed JDV III. One, he is the lesser of two evils (come on, FG has horns!) and two, he would not have had the courage to go against the administration if he weren't telling the truth. I was hoping for a showdown. A let's-say-bad-things-about-each-other-until-we're-blue-in-the-face. That would have been so much better than any soap ever produced. But then it died down.

And then Jun Lozada comes along. I cannot follow the live telecast of the Senate investigation that started last Friday so I had to content myself with checking the Inquirer every so often. Like everyone, I had to hold my breath fearing that Lozada might get cold feet and refuse to talk. After all, it happened with his friend Neri before. But Lozada did not disappoint.

As expected, Arroyo's allies are now pouncing on Lozada's credibility. Again, anyone willing to go against the president's hubby already has credibility points in my book. Strangely enough, the very things they're throwing at him and should supposedly make him unreliable are the things that make him more believable.

I believe Jun Lozada because he does not paint himself a saint. He admits to his own irregularities while he was serving as President of the Philippine Forest Corporation under DENR. He admits to giving out projects and deals that did not go through the proper biddings. He admits to advising Abalos (I've always hated that prick) to lower his commission because "bubukol ang $130M." He admits to flying to HK to evade the Senate investigation. He is every bit a person who gets tempted, follows his bosses (he was asked to "moderate their greed." Abalos' greed, of course, knows no moderation.), fears for his life but is now capable of telling the truth as it really is.

In a country where heroes are always lacking, the likes of Jun Lozada surface from time to time. For now it's enough to keep the rest of us afloat.

Some of you may have noticed my sudden and prolonged absence in cyberworld. Most of the time, such absences of mine are usually brought about by either laziness or simple lack of material to write about. Or both. This time, however, is a bit different: I had dengue fever.

It started out innocently enough. Muscle and joint pains that I thought was just me being plain lazy. And slight fever, which wasn't really all that unusual if you're me. I called in sick the next day, a Friday, to sleep it all off. Sleep is usually my cure-all, from dry and ugly skin to colds and fevers to headaches and heartaches. So I slept. But instead of feeling better, I kept feeling worse. I had a headache so painful I actually briefly entertained the thought that it might be brain cancer. Oh and dengue also went as a passing thought but you know, it's something that happens to other people... Not very unlike brain cancer, actually. By nighttime, my housemate Brian bought me a couple of Biogesics and like miracle, everything disappeared after about fifteen minutes of taking a tablet. Biogesic lang pala ang katapat.

Armed with more Biogesics, I even reported for work on Saturday morning. I promptly went home and slept after though and if not for the magical tablets, I would have been rendered absolutely dysfunctional. And because the fever returned every time the effect of the drug wore off, I asked Nuna to get me some antibiotics. In the meantime, I researched about dengue. I had all the symptoms: severe headache, fever, muscle and joint pains. No rashes, however. The articles did say that sometimes there are no rashes. That did it. Armed with my overnight stuff, Nuna and Binbin brought me to St Clare's Medical Center on Dian St.

I had a platelet count of 181. Low but still normal. The next day, we went back for another test. My platelet count had dropped to 129. Panic ensued. But only between Nuna and me. Everyone else was calm. We took a cab and transferred to Chinese General Hospital where the place at least was a bit familiar. Again, except for the two of us, nobody seemed to think that there was an emergency. And there I was thinking I was about to die any minute.

But I didn't. I survived four days in the hospital, with needles constantly drawing blood from me. These were days when the only news that was of any importance was how low my platelet count had dropped. I had to drink bottles and bottles of gatorade and was to stay away from dark colored food. And I finally understood something I always wondered about in the past.

I never could understand why people always complained about hospital food, until I had to eat it myself. I used to think of it as something akin to airplane food, which I kind of like but everyone else seemed to hate. But while food on the plane is a part of all the excitement brought about by travel and adventure, the food in the hospital represented my total helplessness, immobility  and weakness. On the first night that I was faced with the cold and tasteless meal, I teared up, looked at Nuna and said, "I feel so kawawa." Nuna bought me wanton mami from Chowking.

Although my platelet was not stable, it did not go lower than 129. The lowest while I was already in the hospital was 152 and that's still within the normal range which is 450-150. I was finally discharged on Thursday. I still feel weak. And I might have gotten thinner. And I tire easily. Plus I got my heart broken again, for the gazillionth time. But hey, I'm alive.

There have been petitions going around, calling for a Multiply boycott on the 18th of January, Friday. This is in light of Multiply's recent move to limit music-sharing among its users. One of those rants can be read here.

This blog is being written in response to Budi's message asking me what my stand is on the issue. I could not have been bothered at all simply because I did not feel the seemingly collective outrage that this move has elicited. But alas, my opinion was requested. So now let me tell you why I am not joining the boycott.

Eversince I can remember, Multiply has always had a note on its "upload music" page that goes like this, "By clicking upload, you certify that these files do not violate Multiply's Terms of Service and that you own all copyrights or have express permission from all copyright owners to upload them." Or something like that. In fact I can vaguely remember that at some point, Multiply stated a warning saying that Multiply has the right to take down music that did not pass rules on the copyright law. Or something like that. It might have been tweaked a bit over the years but we are all aware that Multiply was never lacking in informing its users that sharing copyrighted materials is bad. Therefore we are not to do it. That we have been naughty and did it anyway is not Multiply's fault. That Multiply was lax in implementing the rules had always been something we enjoyed and cheered for, and hoped would last forever.

And then Multiply is sued.

Is it now Multiply's fault that it has decided to be stricter?

"Oh, but Multiply lured us with its promise of free music! And now that they have the numbers to attract advertisers, they'll go back on their promise. We mean nothing to them!"

I'm only grateful that there was a time when we were able to access free copyrighted music when we really shouldn't. That's better than nothing, right? Besides, again, its promise of free music has always had a note attached to it that goes something like, "as long as its yours," and "as long as you have permission from the owner."

So there.

Stop whining.

So today, the 8th day of the year 2008, I turn 28. Yep, that's because I was born in the year 1980. I am numerically destined to be lucky this year and I claim all the luck that the universe is willing to throw my way.

So far, the day has not started very well. I woke up with red splotches on my face, possibly a result of allergies. To what, I still have no idea. This is the second time in less than a month that this has happened. Not very amusing.

And then I got into a pseudo-fight on YM with a new friend. It was nothing serious but for some reason, possibly PMS, I felt really bad about it. Yes, bad enough to shed a few tears over it. And my face being red as it already is today makes it even more obvious that I cried.

And then came the call from Nuna telling me that my hard drive crashed. Or almost crashed. My thesis! My thesiiiiiis! Thankfully the laptop is working again and yes, they have made back up files of my thesis. Nothing can be as important as the thesis.

I'm halfway through the day. Enough time to make my birthday the lucky day that it should be. Oh, if you want to help, gifts always brighten up my day. Yeah, even when it's not my birthday. No? Ok.

Oh, I do have a birthday date to look forward to. A friend has generously volunteered to take me out to dinner and maybe coffee afterwards. We'll see how that will turn out.

I have, at any given moment, at least three unused notebooks of different sizes, thickness, paper quality, etc. in my possession. At least. I'm pretty sure I have more. The point is, I definitely do not need another one.

But I want it.

It's not even a notebook of any remarkable quality. It's as ordinary as can be: lined, of average size (maybe a bit smaller), of average thickness (maybe a bit thicker). "A normal notebook," in fact, was how I described it to a friend while trying to convince her to have coffee or tea with me.

So it is nothing but pure madness. I have fallen prey into this marketing scheme that seeks nothing more than to make me part with my hard-earned money is what happened. And as with most obssessions, it leaves one helpless. It certainly does not help that I pass by the coffee shop going to and from work everyday.

Of course it is not that I lack excuses to hang out in this particular coffee shop. I get to have some alone time, for one. That is, of course, always good for the writing. Or if not, I get to hang out with friends (whom of course I've tricked into having coffee or tea so I could have one stamp more in my little card) and get to catch up on each other's lives. Besides I am working three different jobs. I deserve an occasional cup of coffee if that's what I want. And yes, that's what I want.

I am eight stamps away from the much coveted notebook. If you're in the area and would like to have coffee or tea, remember to give me a call. I just might be available.

So you won't have a hard time thinking of what to give me for Christmas and my birthday, I've very generously taken the time to compile a list of things that I want.

• wi-fi card for laptop
• portable vacuum cleaner, preferrably a Black and Decker Dustbuster
• a pack of Sony rechargeable batteries (4 pcs.)
• a comfortable pair of 1.5 wedge-heeled sandals
• a bath towel (I know. Times are hard.)
• Spanish lessons
• Advanced Mandarin lessons
• arnis training
• disposable contact lenses
• a haircut and hot oil combo
• a body scrub
• a full body massage
• Olay Total Effects facial moisturizer
• Body Shop liquid foundation # 6
• perfume and/or cologne
• a trip to Bohol/Boracay/Palawan/Sagada (You may suggest some other places. I'm very flexible.)
• cash!

If you are interested in giving me any of the above items, please feel free to contact me so I could give you further details (shoe size, color, etc.). And I would love to hear your ideas, too. I do not mind, for example, receiving a laptop from you if that's what you really want to give me. And jewelry, for example, is always welcome. We can discuss about those issues at your convenience.

Merry Christmas! *big hug

Shameless Plug:

'Tis the season to try and earn a little more than usual because I'm sure your Christmas lists (just like mine) are getting longer by the hour. And because I'm super thoughtful, I'm helping some friends with their fundraising activities as well. Here's a list of money-making ventures you might want to help in by buying and/or spreading the word, or even participating in yourself:

1. For cheap and almost-new finds, visit our Garage Sale in Alexandra Condos, Meralco Ave., Ortigas on Saturday, November 17. Everything must go so buy buy buy by the truckload!
2. Why don't you make some money yourself? A friend of mine is looking for participants to a goodies bazaar in Market! Market! You get a stall for the entire month of December for only P15000. Interested? Send me a message.
3. Save some money and still give your loved-ones cute little gifts come Christmas time. If you happen to be in the area please drop by Valle Verde 5, covered court and/or the Quezon City Sports Club (right across St. Luke's Medical Center along E. Rodriguez). They sell affordable kikay stuff perfect for your girlfriends.
4. If Valle Verde and QC Sports Club is too far from you, you can also catch them at the World Trade Center from November 21-25.
5. What's a celebration without alcohol? Check out my friend's wide wine selection here or see his site for other yummy treats!

Merry Christmas!

Please take the time to read my sister's blog entry: http://thejonastory.multiply.com/journal/item/156/scammed

We're trying to let as many people as possible know about this. Yes, it happened personally to our family and we're hoping it won't happen to anyone else again.

Cast of characters:

Nuni, age 27

Akoh, age 60+, aunt of Nuni

One day about two months ago while Nuni was bumming in the house, she decided to share an old text joke with Akoh. She thought that this joke would be especially funny for her aunt because it involved a play of words between Filipino and Fukien Chinese. And because she's a cheapskate, she let Akoh read the text message from her phone instead of sending it to her.

The joke (cannot be translated, sorry):

Question: How do you say, "If this knife won't do, look for another knife," in Chinese?

Answer: CHIQUITO na bo huat, che PAQUITO.

Because of Akoh's bad eyesight, it took some time before she was able to read everything. It also took a few minutes of digesting and explaining and more digesting until she finally got the joke which resulted to quite a long time of steady laughing and thus difficulty in breathing.

Fastforward to yesterday: Because the joke was clearly successful, Nuni, who was in the office, sent Akoh a new text joke.

The joke:

Parrot: panget! Panget! Panget! (ugly! Ugly! Ugly!)

Babae: sige tawagin mo pa kong panget lulutuin kta. (Girl: Call me ugly again and I'll have you for lunch.)

Parrot: psst!

Babae: ano yun? (Girl: what is it?)

Parrot: alam mo na... (you know...)

Nuni imagined what was probably happening at home: Akoh asking Charly, 14, to read the message aloud to her. Wanna-be-actress Charly would have delivered the joke very well. Laughter all around, possibly resulting to difficulty in breathing again.

Instead Nuni got this message: Joni ano yung txt mo sa akin di ko maintindihan. Tawag ka na lang sa landline. (Joni what did you txt me i can't understand. call on the landline.)

Nuni scratched her head and groaned. She then sent this message: Joke lang yun. Joke! Ang hirap mo namang bigyan ng joke. (It was only a joke. A joke! It's hard to send you jokes.)

To which Akoh replied: la ha ha akala ko ano na ang nangyari sayo. (la ha ha i thought something happened to you.)

I was drifting off to sleep when my phone alerted me of a text message. Being one who cannot ignore a message once I knew it was there, I groped for my phone in the dark and was suddenly wide awake.

In all caps were these words WHERES UR NOVEL? from my thesis mentor.

I froze.

I tried to think.

Okay, breathe. It would make you think better if you breathe. In. Out. There you go.

So I remembered that sometime immediately after the Vigan trip, I sent The Great One a text message that I'm aiming to provide him a copy of my second draft on the first week of October. It is, of course you know this too, already the last week. Since he didn't reply to that message, a small silly part of my brain continued to hope that maybe he didn't get the message. You know how unreliable these telecom companies are.

So fast-forward to last night. I managed an "Oh no! Um, I'm still revising it, sir. I've decided on changing the pt of view, just as u suggested. Super major rewriting siya."

And because I wasn't sure if he was convinced, I tried again, "I promise to work on it and send u a copy asap. Hehe, promising writer. :)"

Yes, I attempted to be funny. That's what I do when caught in uncomfortable situations.

I didn't lie though. I really am rewriting the whole thing since I'm changing it from the first person to the third person point of view and good god, it's not easy. Then again, if I'm devoting more time to it, it'll probably be almost over by now. So you see where the guilt is coming from.

And don't get me wrong because I need that guilt or else I'd really just sleep the whole day. And I love it that The Great One cares enough to send me an all caps one-liner to ask about the novel. And that's really how he texts. Still rattles me every time: What? Is he shouting at me? Is he mad? Oh no! Oh no! After about a minute of the near-panic wherein I do the breathing exercises, I'd try to be funny. It's a cycle.

So now yes, off I go to change the I's to she's.

This morning, I took an online quiz over at Facebook to determine what one word best describes me. Surprisingly, the test told me that I'm "happy." So maybe I am.

It must be right because just last night as I was walking to the terminal, there was an undeniable spring to my step while I hummed a toneless tune that I invented on the spot. I would have swayed my head from side to side but my little song number already had people looking at me funny. It was then that I realized that I had finally and completely gotten out of the dumps of my most recent heartbreak. Happy!

So I got home and was greeted with the new modem box that promises unlimited Internet access where we only had dial-up connection before! Yay! Happy!

Naturally I had to go online. I checked my multiply, my mail, my friendster, my facebook, my shelfari, my tagged, etc etc when a brilliant thought entered my mind: cyberstalk my semi-crush! Yay!

So I found out that he's in a long-term relationship. Seven-f*cking-years! *wails. Life is so unfair!!!

Then I got to work this morning. Well, well, the fact cannot be denied that I am now an office girl. Work starts when I time in at 9am and ends when I time out at 6pm. In between, I have an hour for lunch in which I have to time in and out again. In between 9am and lunch and lunch and 6pm, I get to have a fifteen-minute break each. Such is the reality of an office girl's life.

But guess what makes an ordinary office girl's life happy? Office supplies! I love office supplies! Today being a Wednesday, the day reserved for requesting the much sought after office supplies, I came out of the storage room heavy with a corkboard, colorful push pins and paper clips (in two different sizes, mind you!), a magazine holder, a stapler, a tube of glue, a tech pen, a roll of magic tape, a cutter, folders and envelopes, etc. So what if life is unfair? I have so many new things it's like the first day of school! It's like coming home from a shopping spree! Except they're free! Yay! Happy again!

So now I'm busy decorating my work area. That makes me happy. So yes, I must be happy considering how little it takes to make me one. If you don't mind, I'm gonna go put some cute colorful little post-its all over my work station now. After that, I'mma rearrange the magazine cut-outs on my new corkboard. *giggles

And so I found out yesterday that a certain connoisseur on women is making monthly assessments on the female staff in the office. He has a top 20 list of the best-looking ladies, complete with comments and/or suggestions for the enhancement of the said ladies' beauty. The rules are strict. For one to be included in the exclusive list, one has to be single, presently employed in the company, and well, biologically female.

He was kind enough to show me the controversial list, which was prominently posted in his work station. While I was reading it, he nonchalantly informed me that I'd be included in his next list, which was due to be out tomorrow. Now years of feminist readings taught me to reject the very concept of objectifying women. The principled thing to do should have been to tear the list into shreds and file a complaint with the HR office.

I did reject his offer of putting me on his list but not for feminist reasons. I was afraid I wouldn't make it to the top 5. Or top 10 at least.

Now excuse me while I jump out of the window.

Now that my new job grants me Internet access, albeit limited, I couldn't be happier. While it is true that I won't be able to download or upload pictures or music from and to Multiply, I am nevertheless overjoyed that it fulfills my blogging needs, which is the foremost reason for my Multiplying.

Which means I'll be more active in the blogging world again. Yay!

Oh, and since I can't access yahoo mail at work. You may send me messages through my work email: joni.cham@vhs.com.ph. I like receiving mails so go go go, email me!