Minding my own Business

Went to Makati yesterday morning to peddle my blouses. I had so-so sales. On the way there, I was secretly laughing at myself for going all the way to (dreaded) Makati just to sell. Is this really me?

But offices really are the prime spots for selling. Just show your goods to one person, and people will flock to see what you've got. You can sell 10 items on the spot. Last week, I dropped off some goods at a gym (a friend who worked there volunteered to sell for me) and in just 2 days, the items were almost completely wiped out! Nahiya naman ako for her effort so I gave her a free blouse. :)

At this stage, nego-negosyo is the only thing I'm interested in doing. It's the only thing I'm willing to exert effort on. Spanky and I have projects in mind and as soon as we have things up and running, mega-promotion na ang gagawin ko.

Naka naman. Parang totoo, hehe.

Yeth Books!

My brother felt he couldn't stand another day just staying in the house (he had an operation for his knee injury and has been on house arrest for 3 weeks) so yesterday, I drove him and my mom to the mall. All he wanted to do was browse in Booksale. Aaah, simple pleasures.

So I did my own browsing (with some heckling in the background c/o Tambutso) and I bought 3 books, with me spending less than P200.

1. Skylark by Patricia MacLachlan (sequel to Sarah, Plain and Tall)
2. Behind the Attic Wall by Sylvia Cassedy
3. Catherine, called Birdy by Karen Cushman

Hehe, I've always wanted to write a list of books in my blog. It makes me feel so literary. :)

But truth is, I can't read adult books. I simply don't understand them and sometimes, they get so boring and winding. So I read books for young adults.

I bought Hexwood by Dianne Wynne Jones (one of my fave authors of fantasy) and it was sooooo nice. I just finished it last night and I think it sustained me for the 2 days I've been reading it. Escape is good, sometimes.

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On selling matters--just after I've written in my blog that I was into selling, I suddenly found myself sick of it. Grrrr. Changeable me. But I'm regaining my energy.

And some people who ordered don't seem to be interested to get their orders anymore. They don't answer my texts. Very inconsiderate of them.

I should just do 'em

...instead of blabbering my fabulous plans. I find that when I do the latter before the fomer, I don't get around putting them to action. So for now, I'll keep my plans to myself.

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Pusakal Haiku

Paurong-sulong
Biglang tawid patungong
kabilang-buhay

On our way to Batangas earlier this month, we encountered a huge amount of roadkill. And I'm not just talking about the usual cats. There were even askals lying in the middle of the road, guts bursting out. Roadkill dogs made death seem more real than roadkillcats. Probably 'coz they're bigger and well, unexpected.

Pet Peeve

I hate it when I hear a song and a part of it sounds like some song I've already heard. Michael Learns to Rock has the same, old chords for almost all of their songs (try singing 25 Minutes Too Late to Paint my Love; they're practically interchangeable), but at least they copy their own songs.

Take this song I've been hearing on the radio, for example. When I first heard it, I thought I was listening to a Silverchair song I heard a couple of years ago. But of course, it turned out to be some new ditty from some new band. And I thought, Ano ba yan. Garapalan na. Hindi lang chords ang ginaya, pati melody. And I thought Silverchair would sue them for sure or something.

When I tuned in to MTV this morning, I found out something worse.

The copycat band was Pinoy.

Grrrr. Mas lalo akong nainis.

Malamang hindi sila madedemanda kasi malayo silang marinig ng Silverchair. I just hope they didn't copy on purpose.

Sell-out

This week, selling has been my savior. It kept me occupied. It kept me sane.

Those Drew Barrymore tees, jogging pants and shorts were my constant companions. I took them for rides all over Q.C. and showed them to friends and acquaintances. Sure, they took up all the space in the backseat of my car, but they did a good job at being substitutes for passengers.

Most of the time, I feel alive and busy. But sometimes panic sets in, and I think, can I really sell all this stuff? Good thing, my supplier, my good friend Teena is open to consignment. And I can just return the goods I wasn't able to sell. But I'm being hard on myself. I must sell everything!

I'm getting addicted to this. I need a life.

Rationing Emotions

I wish someone came up with a life manual so I'd know if I'm living right. Sometimes, I feel that instead of actually living my life, I'm watching myself live it and I keep tabs on my rights and wrongs. Does that make any sense? It's as if I'm apart from myself and the public self is just some sort of separate entity that I try to mold and remold, not knowing its (my) real identity.

Anyway, that Jack Nicholson flick, As good as it gets, has always bothered me. Is this really as good as it gets? That you just shrug off your lofty ideals and be immersed in the nitty, gritty, this-was-not-what-I-expected life? How do you know if there's something better out there or this is as good as it gets?

I am walking on a bridge

And I am over the water

And I'm scared as hell

But I know there's something better

- Me by Paula Cole

I remember when I submitted my final Philo paper in college. The professor (who was a priest, I forgot his name) commented on my paper, "Nararamdaman ko na hinahanap mo ang balanse sa pagitan ng idealismo at realismo. Mahalaga ito!" Well, I don't know if I've found that delicate balance. Sometimes I think I catch a glimpse of it, but mostly, it's still a struggle.

I don't want to get too deep here, but it's all been bothering me lately.