A Gill and A Way

Taken earlier. Feeling extremely happy and grateful for this opportunity regardless of experiencing a lil sadness today

I just happened to have some thoughts swirling in my head earlier, as I'm finally experiencing the more rigorous aspects of my job now.

Today, I experienced losing my breath running from one place to another, sweating profusely under the hot sun whose heat seemed more intense in Intramuros. I notice my skin as of lately has become tanned and burnt, nothing I'd have when I was in the air-conditioned environment of my teaching practicum last year. I've been snobbed by the older journalists from the bigger publications, speaking to me as if I didn't deserve to be in the media.

I experienced some failures and missteps in my work today although my editor assures to me that I'm still starting out and I don't need to apologize too much about it. I've met cold people who make me miss the friendlier and warmer environment of the academe. Reality hit me that it's not enough to learn how to adjust to a fast-paced environment; sometimes, you need to manipulate the pace.

I felt extremely sad for the first time since I got hired all shocked and excited, and got trained all giddy and motivated.

As I walked in the stoned steps of Intramuros, I started having flashbacks.

Before being a journalist, I was just a fresh grad who was anxious of what might happen next. I recall wandering in the Central Business Districts (Makati, Taguig, and Ortigas to be exact)and just feeling miserable. I'll get lost in these concrete jungles, not because I didn't know which building to go but because I didn't know what I'd get myself into in applying for these jobs. By jobs, I mean those that would leave me desk-bound in front of a computer. Never mind the pay; I really felt nervous on the days I'll just end up in any of the jobs I applied to prior to being a journalist.

I told myself earlier today that though this day wasn't great, I won't avoid it. I'm luckier compared to before. I was a girl who will walk in smooth pavements with skyscraper buildings around her while she wore her corporate best, wishing she'll fast forward to the day she'll finally walk in the acacia-adorned paths of the university she planned to do her post-grad in.

Little did I know then that fast forward today, I'm lucky enough to see beautiful colonial structures that still amaze me every time. I never dreamed of finally immersing myself in such a historical place on a near-daily basis. Although I'm not in Intramuros everyday(because I still go back and forth in different cities everyday), every moment I go here for work will always be delightful to my senses. Even if I'm frazzled running blocks to offices and blocks back to my work station, I'll still notice my surroundings. This is better than being surrounded by buildings that seem like are ganging up on me while I'm chained in the neck by a job I absolutely hated.

This work I have now was something I wanted bad and now I'm in, I can't give up. I wanted this and I still do, even if today I felt like a failure regardless of whatever assurance people give to me.

I can only breathe in and think this: I'm in one of my favorite places in the world and doing work I could only wish for. I'm only having a bad day today.

Every feeling of disappointment just flushed out at the thought of what I mentioned earlier. I learned that in every triumphs, I'll experience trials and vice versa. Another amazing thing I discovered is when I want something, I end up experiencing getting better. All I'm left to do now is work hard--because what great thing comes easy, right?

As promised from my last post, I'm reposting this from the vaults of my blogging past! 2013 to be exact!

Back then, I was an NBSB senior highschool student who seemed way too sappy-romantic for her own good. Reading this now nearly 5 years later, I realize these are words I will still dedicate to whoever I might spend the rest of my life with. ❤️

Also watch out for my next post from my blog vault, "Letter to My Future Children"!

Come and find me, boi

Dear Future Partner, 

                    It's funny I'm writing this when I'm not exactly sure who you really are. You could be someone from around here or maybe someone I've been in the same room before but never noticed. You could be from some other city or maybe even in another country. Maybe we've met but I haven't remembered or you could be anyone I know...

                     Whoever you are, you must be unaware of this letter I'm making for you which you might read long after we meet and become a couple.

                     You must know that I'm an emotional wreck. Like a train colliding to another train in times of hardships and problems. Or maybe for absolutely no reason at all; I am that messed up. But you probably accepted me despite of that. Despite the fact I can cry an ocean or have an anger that causes the earth to shake. And you probably are the reason I'm sane, calm, collected. I know I will reach that point that emotions won't get the best of me, just because you're there for me. Always.

                  You also have a clue about my past. Please bear in mind that I've been through countless rejections for something that I never consciously brought myself to. I know people who just slam doors on me just for the fact I wasn't rich or I came from a broken home. You make me believe that there's really someone who can see beyond my skeletons.

                I really admire you a lot, even if I have yet to meet you. I can be weird. I can be happy-go-lucky. I can be the party-pooper. I can be over-dramatic. But you put up with that. You must be a superhero or something. When most guys have a standard of what they look for in their partners, you settle for me with no complaints(hopefully). Wow, man. I'm so lucky.

                 I have always wondered what you find irresistible in me. Why you chose me over billions of girls. Why you choose to stick out with some piece of crap like me. Why you choose to spend the rest of your life with me. And maybe then I'll know and realize that waiting for the answer along with you saying it will be worth it.

                  I just want to say please, please take care of me well like how I'll be that doting partner to you. I will support you in your dreams and goals. I  don't see myself as that stereotypical housewife, but I will show my love in any way I could. I'll even cook for you, too. Haha. But seriously, I'll be loyal and faithful to you. And I would love and care for you and accept whoever you are because I know I have met the one person who is truly meant for me.

                  I find it amusing that I'm writing this letter in a stage where I'm working to reach my goals because years from now, I'll be thinking about what's best for the both of us or maybe for the family we'll make together. Maybe when that time comes, we both have reached our goals and are ready to think of US and our future.

                  What I find equally amusing is the fact that in case you actually do read this years from now, it actually is possible that there is this person who loves me no matter what. Who loves every little quirk and part of me. I find it hard to believe and it is kinda stupid to write this because I'll never know what tomorrow might bring, but if you are real...damn, I'm so lucky. And I'd do my best to make you feel as lucky as I do. :)

With love, 
Gillian Mercado Cortez-(insert your last name...in case we actually got married :D)

Note: I'm not getting married nor am I pregnant. I'm not even dating nor getting any action lol

May not be holding a bouquet for now but at least I got my instant pansit and juice lol

Me? Marriage? Motherhood?

*gasps*

What pushed me to write this is how these days, girls around my age are facing milestones I don't see myself experiencing any time soon: marriage and motherhood.

Some have one or the other, but others get both.

Obviously, I'm going through neither.

But at 23, an age that's quite ripe enough to start such chapters in my life, I just graduated from college and am starting out my career. I would imagine myself wearing my black robes for MA and Ph.D more than I would wear a white wedding gown and veil.

I'd lie if I told you that I never thought of it. Maybe in some alternate universe, I'm that smiley, young bride whose ridiculously lavish wedding is featured in Bride and Breakfast. Maybe, I'm glowing and expecting my first child and am with my husband who is going to support me through it. I must be that fit mommy and hot wife type I see all over IG, ones who wear bikinis even a few weeks post-labor.

But in this universe, I'm just a single girl who sees many girls around her experience the less than glamorous life of being a mom and wife before they even hit my age--and I'm also far from "fit". Social media portrays it so effortlessly but in the reality of my environment, it's just hassle and expensive.

It's hard not to think about myself in that place someday but like everything else, I'm in no rush. Actually, it's such a scary thought even. I cannot imagine not hitting the pedestal and suddenly experiencing that life where I have to care for my husband and kids at my age or even any time soon. I wanna travel to nice places and buy nice things. I wanna learn new languages and fields. I wanna accomplish my goals. I wanna experience a life FOR ME before I settle down and share my life with someone else.

I always joke that I imagine myself as a beaming Ph.D holder kneeling before my Dean on graduation day more than a blushing bride kneeling before the priest with my husband on my wedding day. When I think about it seriously, I realize I don't want this lifetime to pass without experiencing being married to someone I love and have a family with him, just as much as I want to finish my postgrad studies someday--and that is saying a lot!

I love being in love. I romanticize such feelings and whoever I'm into at that moment through poems and daydreams. I love the fleeting, effortless feeling of being deeply and madly all over someone. At my age, I realize that there are risks that it could lead to something more and I try not to think about it. Sometimes, with guys I've gotten to know recently, they think about marriage more than I do while I just mildly gag in my mouth. I guess I wanna love someone when I feel ready for something serious, not now where I still am adjusting myself in this life of possibilities.

 I don't think settling down is a death sentence, really but it comes with some limits that I feel I'm not ready to stay within especially when I want to go far and beyond with only myself in mind.

I love kids. I get smitten when I see a baby or toddler who's absolutely adorable. I would then let reality sink in that being a mom is much more than snuggling your baby powder scented kid; it's also RAISING that kid right. I do want to have kids someday but the thought of having one now just gives me chills. I would freak out when I think of carrying a child in my womb for 9 months at my state now who can't even afford things for herself just yet--let alone necessities for my child. I feel I have so much to learn as a person and being a parent, I have to be wise and patient enough to handle a kid.

I admire the girls who are my age and choose to keep their kid and have people behind their back to help raise a kid I think I'll only be ready to be a mom when I feel I'll have something to pass on to my kid and I have yet to make anything for myself.

Maybe Someday...

Let me take that back: someday, surely!

I come from a broken home and even if I grew up in such a dysfunctional setting, I do dream of having my own complete family. I used to loathe the idea of getting married but as I grew older, I learn I'm not a reflection of my parents and their parents (also separated). I'm the type who fights to make things work.

The household I grew up in lacked the love and closeness I would see in other homes. So even if it isn't an immediate want to have my own family, I promise myself when I do, it won't be the same as the environment I lived through.

On being a wife, even if I'm still not ready to even seriously date at the moment, I know it within myself I'll make my future husband happy and lucky. The time is just not now but when that moment comes, he'll be lucky to have a partner in me.

On being a mom, I have my hesitance now but no doubt about it, I know I would want to be an endearing mother to my children. I'll be strict if I have to but I also want to make them discover their own passions in life and not feel judged for paths they'll take.

For now, the role I'm going to focus on is making myself the best person not just to everyone around me but also to myself.


(Also, watch out for my next few posts! I'll repost two entries from my old blog 5 years back: "Letter to My Future Partnr" and "Letter to My Future Children")

Yay! An art post! It's been a while since I've gushed over a certain exhibit but this 2018, I highly encourage you go to CCP to check this out! It runs until May 20 and you wouldn't want to miss it.

"A Collection of Bruises, Curses, Baby teeth" by Marionne Contreras is an exhibit that is much more than being IG worthy for those who enter. Millenial pinks, neon lights, lush florals; they all get your attention immediately. You soon learn that it's much more than it being aesthetically pleasing to the eyes when you realize that the artist shows her attachment towards many things, from random objects to beloved people in her life.

If you happen to find your way to the exhibit, you will pass by this window which for me, is an exciting prologue to the artist's story. I love the contrasts of the pink tulle curtain and rosy fur rug to the crunchy dried leaves. Oh, and that isn't a cadaver inside the glass box! Looks like it in pictures but the leaves are much more obvious in person.

When you enter the exhibit, you are greeted with these plastic frames hanging from the ceiling. When I entered here though, I caught some teen girls taking their photos BETWEEN the yarn-strung rings. PLEASE DON'T! I kinda feel the fragility of the yarn to the seeming heavy glass frames (but they are uber light polyester resin, really).


Contreras had pieces that were reminiscent of Norberto Roldan's multimedia shelved artwork. I also recall Cian Dayrit having some artwork also like this and the youthfulness of Contreras is in line with Dayrit's. Roldan, although known more for this type of stuff, has a more cryptic and haunting vibe whereareas Contreras still injects an air of playfulness to an otherwise wistful girl who wants to be a woman.







Overall, this exhibit is definitely worth the visit! If you're into art that is experiential, "A Collection of Bruises, Curses, Bby Teeth" hits that mark. It's much more than a seemingly Millenial-Gen aesthetic because you will feel the artist's youthful yet complicated art.

In remembrance of Womens' Month, I want to write a post dedicated to the woman whom I learned later in life to appreciate and that is my mom.

Akala mo Mothers' Day noh? Char!

Bata palang ako, sinasabihan na ako sa telebabad habit ko. Ngayon, sa kakagamit ko ng cellphone, lol

What I want to share is that my mom and I don't have a perfect relationship. We're just so different, really. Sure, I see the resemblance between her and I as I have ALWAYS been told how much we look alike but I think the similarities just end in our high cheekbones, almond eyes, and arched eyebrows. We tend to clash a lot and it just got worse growing up to the point I've been estranged from her for 2 years (which I'll elaborate later).

I got the "Crossing legs when taking photos" pose and "fake tawa" expression from her, yo.

I vowed to myself that I would never be like my mom. She would accuse me, even when I was a kid already acquainted with social issues through watching the news or reading newspapers, that I'm radical(I'm not, okay. I was encouraged with activism at a younger age). I would always think that she was so indifferent and apathetic. I was aware of feminism when I was younger and I would frown at my mom for being UN-FEMINIST: everything I'm supposed to do should be pleasing to men from the lipstick I wear to the language I speak. ("Why is your lipstick that dark! Guys won't kiss you that way!", "Guys find it cheap if lagi kang nagmumura. Cheap pakinggan!")

I spent most of my life deviating from emulating the likes of her that I never realized, as I matured, I ended up having some of her qualities. I was always a writer growing up but I almost always forget that my mom too was a writer. It was also told to me that she was always a bookworm even as a kid; a trait that I also had with me until I got older. She also was a student journalist and this was back in the day of Martial Law! I never got to learn too much of what she pursued in college but when I got into UST(her college) in the programs AB Journalism and BSE English, I discovered that these were courses she was also in.

Even if I laugh at her when she warns me on certain things, I still end up following them. It's already a habit of mine to say "tabi tabi po" when I pass by areas I think "dwendes" thrive (I know, my mom is one of those people who scare me with that knowledge as a kid). I also stay quiet when I know a tree is "sleeping" so I can respect the spirits (Idk about her but she's probinsyana who seems to instill to me stuff like animism lol). Magical irrelevancies aside, what I also learned from her was never to touch my eyebrows. I recall the day she introduced to me the magic of eyebrow makeup as an 11 year old. Since then, kilay became my life and just like life, you shouldn't destroy or mess with something beautiful! Hahahahaha!

As much as I kept denying how I'm like my mom, I realize I got her strength and stubbornness. Striking out of college a semester shy of graduating, she already accomplished so much in her career even before she was my age now. I thought this was unbelievable since she tried molding me into the perfect housewife but I also miss out on the fact that she would push me to be independent and empowered...in case I haven't found that "husband" yet. She says it in her own way, of course ("You have beauty and brains nga but then a lot of girls have it, too! Yung iba they travel at mayayaman nga eh! You have to work harder to stand out!")

One of the things that my mom and I argue a lot on is how I look. Back when I was a teen, I hated wearing dresses and skirts. I wouldn't even wear anything that was sleeveless! I remember vowing to my own mom that I wouldn't wear anything that showcases my shoulders and here we are years later, her laughing and pointing out at my feminine, daring wardrobe. Back then also, I would wear lipsticks shades that shock the hell out of her ("No one is born with black lips!", "Your lipstick looks like putty!", "Bakit.........blue?!?!")which I do to this day, tbh. But I started appreciating nudes and peaches on a regular basis that my mom would own up to it by saying even I started realizing how "chaka" a lot of my lippie shades were. OKAY, IKAW NA!!!

True story of how I was told that I looked like I smeared cement on my lips according to my mom.

While it has been comically amusing and occasionally frustrating, there were moments in my life that I didn't speak to her for a while. The differences really affected us and as I got older, I became more outspoken and dismissive against her values. It resulted into huge arguments which eventually, ended in estrangement. While her absence in my life didn't affect me in any way as I still went on with my university life or my writing sideline, I only learned how much I missed out on her guidance very late. 2017 was an awful year for me and when things turned for the worst--to the point of me attempting suicide--she surfaced in my life again.

I always denied to myself that things would get better with her in my life again. For so long, she acted quite indifferent towards my life going on. And unlike girls my age who could run to their moms when it came to whatever went on with their lives, I never cared for her opinion. When 2017 has taken its toll on me in every aspect, that's when I started rebuilding my relationship with her again. It felt like I had to go through a field of thorns but eventually, we got there and we got better. She would comment on how much weight I lost(even if when I was younger she would be harsh on how I was "chubby")and would buy so much food. She would admit that she knew the kind of men I dated and wished she stepped in when my relationships overcame me with so much toxicity (She heard the stories from my siblings).

I think the reason why we improved in our relationship is I never faulted her for not being there for me in such crucial years in my life. I just wanted to focus on what we have now.

The past year we've suddenly started speaking again, I still hear obnoxious comments she makes:
"Yang talino mong yan? Namana mo sakin yan!"
"Look at me and you'll see you won't be frumpy and fat when you're my age!"
"You got your writing skills from me! I'm a better writer than your father noh!"
"Ba't ganun na naman lipstick mo parang naninigarilyo ka!"
"Ang payat-payat mo wala ka nang pwet at boobs!"

--Among MANY comments she makes on a daily basis over ANYTHING...(Believe me she says more WTF things).

Differences will never be straightened out for us both. From me telling her that a certain place is walkable when she would rather waste money on transpo to her remarking that I wear too much black when she's the boho type of lady, we would always have something clashing to say.

I just laugh it off. I still find myself having to fend off whatever comes out of her mouth. I do accept our differences in beliefs. It can get annoying but all I really have to do is be patient with her. I guess we're the Filipino version of the Joy Luck Club, if you know what I mean! It's great to finally experience sharing kilig stories of guys I like with her or my dilemmas of being out in the real working world. It's also amazing that even with our disagreements, we tend to forget about it and still move on without anything ruining our relationship.

As long as I stick true to my beliefs and morals, whether inspired by her or not, that is the most important thing for me. Despite me not ending up following in her footsteps and even following her values, I always feel proud whenever she tells people this when people remark on how much I'm like her:

"No, she's an improvement of the race." 🙂



Notes:
- My mission in life is not to marry a husband who'll allow me to live comfortably OKAY!!! I don't know how serious she is when she tells me such stuff lol
- You might think my mom is a gold-digger but if you knew our situation, she's trying to make me think practically. While I respect her opinions, I still believe I could like whoever I like as I don't depend on men anyway. #EmpoweredWoman 
- My mom comes from that generation where aesthetics are everything. Sad as it is but I have some titas and even professors say the same things as her so it doesn't surprise me anymore when I get comments on how I look physically and how I preset myself.
- You may think my mom is superficial and shallow but guess what? I did, too! But I live with it now and try to understand her in a deeper level! So fuck you!

You gotta have a trusted sisteraka by your side and be a trusted sisteraka to other girls, as well.

A throwback photo of my short hair and still-love for coffee

A #FlashbackFriday post because this was the first spoken word piece I performed in my first open mic back in 2015. In that year of hugot being the main theme of selling out in spoken word, I chose to speak about my beloved coffee.🤣

Ironically, I remember this piece at a time that for 2018, I will stop drinking coffee--at least, stop drinking coffee when I don't need it. 😉


So here's "To Thee, Coffee" by your truly ❤☕


My dosage of you has become alarmingly high. Maybe not as precarious as before, but still…

As time for myself gets even more little as the workload and stress keep increasing, the dainty coffee cups have upgraded into huge ass  mugs filled with your liquid magic. 

I question the efficacy of your caffeine content because no matter how much I consume you, I don’t feel anymore the energizing effects you once give or like a person who’s finally free from tiredness.

But I still drink you up anyway because you remind me of everything familiar that I long for. The smell makes me smile and a mere drop on my tongue makes me go nostalgic. 

In some ways, you are my little luxury. Maybe even borderline addiction. You are like cocaine mixed with grounded beans that take 5 years to grow. You are my Saturday night shot of tequila disguised as murky brown liquid in my morning mug.

I never take you the way you are. I like sugar and sweetness. I like cream on you or maybe whipped on me(ooh kinky). I like those fancy sounding flavors and their half-successful attempts. I like knowing there is more to you than just water scattered with your dull brown pixie dust.

A growing kid needs milk and sleep in order to grow taller. But I pour milk into you while I stay up until the wee hours of the morning. It’s kinda defeating the purpose, don’t you think?

Despite writing this love letter cum post of appreciation slash product of boredom, I never forget that somewhat hatred I had for you. Maybe I had too much of you and got too sick so I stopped downing you for a long time. My acidity can’t handle you at times. Occasional menstrual cramps become agonizing if I take you. Or probably I just prefer drinking tea  or hot cocoa when I feel like it.

But I genuinely love you and would not do without you. Having you with me–actually, having you in me–is a joyous thing. As you run through my veins promising me to give me a sudden rush and high, in reality I’m just crashing again and again.

Even without you, my dearest coffee, at all.