On New Theme and Good Friends

by Karen An

It’s habitual reading of multiple blogs and sites that had made me realize what I’ve been ignoring in the major (major) rules of blogging – content. As the site’s originator, I started up looking for themes that would sport a professional (and maybe sophisticated – deng) look to this scrap of a site; of course I wanted it to look good to my folks. But not really, as it turned out. And content is still king.

So Ding, Perlas and Ja, I changed the site’s theme again to air a somewhat minimalist ambiance – whether you read things that I trash here or not – since I think I’m the only one active in this thing; except Pearl of course. Have you heard? She’s set up her own site! Check out her blog here.

We haven’t been in touch lately, most guiltily for me since I missed out two events with you. Now Magding is practically teaching full time in the public setting, Pearl pursues her masters while prods on teaching at AIT and Jasmine? Hey Ja, I haven’t really heard a lot. What’s up? I’m still doing my thing, as you know. But I resigned from my previous job and luckily got into this new company. I rant about life and war and loves – and sometimes old age erotica, haha – now.

I don’t know if I should envy you guys for being so sure of everything – with paths laid out before you; to teach with fiery passion and the burning ideals to make a change. Me? I really don’t know. Torn between two lovers pa ko.

new book offers contemporary view on independent learning

new book offers contemporary view on independent learning

It’s a mess and sometimes I feel like being the group’s black sheep (probably the batch’s black sheep, even). I think this is what one gets from swallowing too much liberal ideas like why avoid the predetermined structure of school? It’s an intrinsic thing, really. And I respect it if you don’t understand me, hehe.

Whatever, I’d just reserve the rest for my blog. Do stay in touch. And hey, my birthday’s incoming. Ja, is the dinosaur still alive? Whehe. See you soon. Hit me with your most convincing text messages so I could come out of my hole. And oh! I moved out – staying somewhere in Lahug.

I love you!


Rancho Cancio

Hi Bai,

Naa ko nakit-an samtang nag-ukay ukay kos internet. Wa ko kahibaw, naa ra diay ning paraisuha luyo sa amua. Ari nya ta! Gali lang, naay minimum number of people. Kailangan pa reserve daan. Waddaya say?

rancho cancio


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PRC Update

Last year, during one of the most memorable years of my life, graduating from doobidoo college and actually passing the board exam with a beautiful but heartbreaking average, I voluntarily put the shackles and chains of employment on my otherwise free limbs. Alright, that was an OA metaphor, just got my first job.

So during the teachers orientation (where I secretly despised the clicheic speech of one one of the topnotch takers), I didn’t bother getting my ID. Well, only partly because there was a ton of people on the stage and I deciphered that if I ever get messed up among the throng of people, I could either get myself crushed or be left out by  my group of friends who were going to Shakey’s to celebrate the epic entrance to life (or the death of it).

Silly reason, isn’t it? But I chose to go with my friends and left my ID and certification to the hands of PRC instead. Anyway, what could get wrong, I wouldn’t be needing it for now.

But time goes out quickly and now it’s almost a year after a lazily left my identification card to the dens of the devil. Now..I NEED IT.

So what to do? I left the day from work to claim that precious little evidence of my existence. I went to Pavillion Hotel, because, take note yo’s, they (the PRC guys) are renovating as of 05-09-14. I asked around for how I could actually get my ID even though it’s been almost a year and their team is currently busy with renewals and stuff. I expected the office to be calmer than the last time we went there for Board Exam Registration. But I was wrong. It was the same mess with people standing, sitting on every corner, falling in line, begging at the guards. Typical.

It’s sick. You think college was hard? Well try to get over PRC. Hahaha, they will be judging your fate.

I went there only to find out that I couldn’t get my ID because it’s in the other building and it can only be accessed after the renovation. I was enraged. But I’m not the type of people who make scenes. So I just accepted the bitter reality of it and calmly walked away, hopeless. Also mad at myself because it was my fault.

I wish the PRC has a better system than this. Seriously guys, where do our fees go? Your office is in the basement of a hotel (point taken, you’re renovating) without even a formal outline of the process to guide the people coming to your aide to make their lives better?

Hash hash, I can’t end the rage.


I Went to BIR..

So I went to BIR yesterday to get a stamp on my Form 2305, because basically you would want to help your bosses put some cash on your poverty-stricken pot.

Anyway, I went there at 9am, if you’re thinking about the RDO, it’s Branch 81, the one beside BCPD in Brgy. Luz. So just a really quick tip when you’re coming over to do your sick government business, I’ve outlined some helpful stuff below you could maybe learn from when  it comes your time to do these stuff, like a grown up.

  • Go to the front guard (don’t forget to pay him a good morning/afternoon because that always kind of seems to work). Leave your ID and he’ll give you a number. Simply put, you trade your ID with a square-inch piece of number card.
  • Once you are inside, go to another guard on the right (because guards do multitasking nowadays, I wonder if that’s part of their training) and ask for a priority number. Tell him what you want to get.
  • Your priority number would have some label in it, e.g. TIN Issuance, SLSP, etc. Take a seat somewhere, because the whole place is just literally a waiting area and check the screen for your turn based on your priority number.
  • Once it’s your turn, go to the other room, and look for your counter number, wait to get entertained, and you’re done. Also, make sure that you have all the documents ready before going in there.

In my horrible first time duty as an adult (I felt like a badass), I can say the experience was both relieving and, like all others, something you could really learn from. Just be really careful and clear about what you do because your enemy when processing documents with a government agency is time and also the number of people who come to compete with you on that scarce resource.

So, I went to the guard, asked for directions and gave my ID. When I went to the PN table, I asked the guard where to get my form 2305 stamped and he gave me a PN for TIN Issuance, number 33. So I sat there, waiting, maybe a little bit nervous, I don’t know why. Then there was this dude who attempted to talk to me about my business. Of course I don’t wanna be rude so I answered him back with a little too honest face showing my disinterest. Then tadah.. 33 came and I just walked to the room. There I saw the counter, which was supposed to be 2, and I was like, “yeah, it’s my turn and this is the right counter”. The thing is, idiot doesn’t notice that the arrangement of chairs against the panel of numbers wasn’t too friendly to the confused. They were misaligned so I ended up sitting in counter 3, which is for SLSP. I waited a little bit until this beautiful lady came to ask me what I want. Then she asked me for my priority number. That’s when everything got bad, because I was number 33 and she was supposed to entertain a number 6, I guess. So she told me to get another priority number for SLSP. So I went to the guard again and got my SLSP PN. I waited for the second time and this again, the dude was still there. He asked me for the nth time why I have to update my employment status because, as he said, his employer does that for him. Just my casual, too kind self, I gave him a more decent answer than before because I was waiting for number 11 and the counter was still on 7.

On went a couple of minutes or 5 or 10 minutes, I lost count. Then holla shit it’s my turn, yohoo! I went to the beautiful lady’s desk again, smiling and then she asked for my PN and went straight to what I want. When I said I’m for Form 2305 stamping. Immediately she realized. That my previous priority number was right. And that I was supposed to be in Counter 2. She didn’t tell me though because probably she took pity on me. And so she just forwarded my papers to the other older lady in counter 2. I realized my mistake. I’m a walking flesh of bad luck. So the older woman processed my papers, went on to the database, checked the documents, then did a few stamps. After a very short minute, it was over and I went out with a relieved feeling while at the same time, revisiting a few moments of my plain idiocy. If I could’ve just been a little less dumber than my actual self, then I could’ve been out of that place for a good thirty minutes.

Aftermath, I soaked into my self-blaming state but was a little bit happy of the fast process in the BIR. I was impressed because I thought it would be really hard to go through government transactions. Or maybe it’s just because there weren’t so many people. Whatever it is, it was an O-K-A-Y for a  first time. Im lying. My first time was in SSS spending 8 hours of my earth time praying that the screen would call me up to heaven. That was bad. But hey, some government agencies are now doing some of their services online. The Pag-Ibig website is one. I once accessed the pag-ibig website to inquire about my Pag-Ibig number, because I couldn’t trace it and the reply came out within 24-36 hours. Brilliant. Visit their link here: pagibigfund.gov.ph

RDO – Regional District Office

So what’s your worst government transaction experience?( Oh this is what I get from watching too much vlogs.)


10 Little Defining Moments in a Woman’s Life

Yay! A post that’s not telling us how we’re supposed to be or feel or act, but is celebrating that we already intuitively know how to rock and that growth is a process and a journey and it doesn’t all happen all at once. LOVE IT! (credits to an awesome commenter)

“As I grow older (and I’m writing about this as though I’m about to turn 70), I’ve hit certain moments in a woman’s life that aren’t often discussed, but at some point, happen to every woman.

The moment when…”

Read the full article here: http://thoughtcatalog.com/almie-rose/2014/04/10-little-defining-moments-in-a-womans-life/

(I Don’t Really Have a Title For This)

There’s a clean slate of white paper in front of every post-college grad twenty-
something. And when the silent penitence we paid during college practicums and
hours of going about stupid schoolwork is done, we are on our own. The gates are
opened to all innocent slaves of a system that made us believe what we do in the
classroom is what we will shall be paid to do in the real world. Spolier alert. It
isn’t, save for your single last term of practicum, that is if you choose to become
a teacher.

Taken from experience, nobody tells you what the real world would be like. Okay,
maybe there were rumors. But they were all general statements of agony that don’t
really come across. They say life after college would be hard. But how hard, exactly?
I knocked on my first attempt to land a job with all the enthusiasm and idealism of a
19-year-old who’s got a GPA of above average and whose only taste of reality was
a couple of i-wanna-forget-that summer part time employment. But who’s to blame if
the system which raised the kinds of dreamers like me were all in a conspirational
battle against keeping the outside world from the academe?

Well, maybe that was pretty necessary. I mean who would want to efface a system
so hardened by convention that it has become automatically required without a need
for question? The system is the system and this has to go on. No looking back, just
building up. As what I’ve learned from my previous Curr. Dev’t instructor (or from the
book assigned for that course), this system has become a major pillar of society.
Would you knock down a pillar, eh?

I’m not arguing that we banish the scholastic system. For my part, it was one of the
best chapters of my youth. But I remember the people more than the courses I’ve
taken. I can easily recount the backlashes of jokes before each start of a morning
Microbiology class. I may as well tell you some anecdotes from one of those subjects
than I can recite the procedures of staining a slide of microbes. It’s just that, maybe
we could fix up the system a bit so it would stamp down to the memories of
students, maybe along – or more than – just having fun. Then maybe college life
wouldn’t be too stigmatized after all.

You can ask me bits and pieces of this and that and I’m sure I can only hardly recall
or guess the right answer. When people find out I graduated from this school, in this
course, I receive a response of both intimidation and awe, coupled with a soaring
level of unreal expectations. “Wow, bright diay“. Well, f*** that! When I started
working my ass off with strict company rules, with a coworker in the next cubicle
who seem to be always plagued by a storm of mood swings, when the pressure of
deadline presses you, when you find out that these people from these backgrounds
can do more than you can, the last thing on your mind would be that “I came from
here”. At the end of the day, that just doesn’t matter anymore. Out there is a level
playing field. And no medal can save you from the harsh reality of a harsh world.

I’m biased. Because I’m saying this from the camp of displaced professionals. Of
course I wasn’t trained for this. I was trained on how to raise my tiny voice to a
group of teenagers who don’t really give a damn. I was trained to stay up all night to
finish the next day’s horror plan. I was trained to be superior, authoritative, to be
someone with an air of nobility so that the society can eternally attach a single
syllable of “ma’am” before my name. Unfortunately I haven’t stepped on that realm
yet. So who am I to pose a complaint when the problem has been me all along? Still,
am I not entitled to my democractic right? (Ugh, fancy term)

There, there. I have reached another philosophical argument with myself. This has
become a habit that doesn’t really end to a conclusion because I always come out
more confused than enlightened.

So bless to the soul who has taken three minutes of his/her life reading such a
wasted article. This is my version of a literary prank.

P.S. And may the odds be ever in our favor.