having not-quite-lost-in-translation moments here. vietnamese english is another hurdle. work had been slow for the first day–isn’t that always the case?

the reason for feeling the blues here in saigon might be attributed to the lack of sunlight in my hotel room. it. sucks.

aleks commented on my location change on facebook: “what are you doing in vietnam?” my answer: “shifting from print media to digital.”

but then i wrote to her personally. “honestly, i don’t know what i’m doing in vietnam.”

been meeting a lot of friends lately. almost every day i have been going out. it’s all good. i can’t write about everything in detail but maybe i will make a list so at least i won’t forget. i enjoyed myself all the while.

1. Lunch with Marian at Ms. B

2. Coffee at Starbucks with Paolo

3. Pho 24 dinner and Adamson Center drinks with LM

4. Zombadings and coffee with Paolo

5. Dance practice at MR’s house with Mar, Marian and Ianne (nasingit lang siya ahehe)

6. Dinner at Crazy Katsu with Enna, Kat, Larie, Prech and Ada

7. Wine at Barcino with Paco

8. Sound tripping in Meetle with Paco (syempre separate pa kahit same night)

then tomorrow, it’s garage’s party at republiq (what to wear? the theme is 80′s bboy –what the hell does that mean for a girl?) thursday may be yoga. friday, i dunno. YES FRIDAY I’M FREE! saturday, probably meet up with reza. sunday, it’s gonna be spent with chiara, et al.

trying to squeeze in everyone in this 2 week sched. i feel like a typewriter now.

However, in a matter of minutes, Mr. Creative Director asked for more typography-driven work from me! Unfortunately, my work with Cosmo SG hasn’t been properly uploaded yet in my new book, so I had to send some of my old magazine work and zine “experiments” . Let’s see how that turns out, if ever he decides to become more interested in my work.

…

It’s so strange how suddenly I’m in the mood to apply for full time jobs. This really goes against my way of thinking last year, that gap-year of artistic and geographic freedom. Is it a perspective shift, trying to find that niche that will require my utmost commitment? Commitment?! What the? The last time I checked, I was enjoying being a stranger. Or writing about flings. Or just wanting to be out there.

Anyway, all these jobs I’ve been hunting for are not in my home country anyway. Have I grown to become a stranger?

I have moved out of my flat at Bukit Merah View and now bunking over at Chiara’s apartment down the road at Henderson Crescent. Six people live in her flat– all Pinoy, but in all aspects they are Filipino. (Like how my former roommie Alex describes them: hardcore Pinoy.) None of the American accent of my former flatmates. TFC is mostly on the tube. Menudo is on their dining table.

Menudo?! I mean, we don’t even cook menudo that often back at my house in Marikina. That’s how Pinoy this household is. Somehow I miss the westernized, fake American-ness of my old apartment. In a way, it did  like being out of the Philippines.

And now, settling here at Henderson Crescent perhaps makes the transition of going back home faster. Not that I need any proper transition.

It’s just so fast, going here and the leaving part. Just when I was starting to get accustomed to the lifestyle! Maybe Singapore is not for me. Well, I haven’t really said anything great about my host country in the few months I have lived here.

I don’t know what to make of my experience here. It’s been a miserable three months working at the magazine. This is what you get when you work not out of passion. Or when work feels like work. Terrible, terrible.

Sometimes I have to tame this spontaneity in decision-making. You know, Lomography could’ve been a good place to start after my residency. But. No. Regrets. At least I know now how it feels to be here. To work with Singaporeans. To live independently.

Haven’t told my family about what’s happening at work. Felt like I needed to come up with my own solutions first. Asking for their help is the inescapable last resort. If only I can, why not.

I am waiting for phone calls and e-mails that never come. Ah-gain. I’ve never been this patient. In the romance department though, I tried to be impatient. Last night, I made the first move to contact Y. I dropped the unassuming but meaningful “Hey!” through SMS. He replied, addressing me with the fake name I gave him, asking me where I was. He was hinting that I should move to his party area, but I didn’t want to sound desperate. So I said, “Not sure if we’re going there…” It was the most we’ve ever texted. We were getting somewhere, finally. The myth of the aggressive girl turning off boys could be busted anytime soon…

Then, my phone finally dies. I will never know if he ever replied with a compromise or a suggestion, or if he even replied at all.

Fucking Murphy. Why must your law embody EVERYTHING that happens to me here in Singapore. So there went my mini adventure in flirting.

Now it’s back to the reality of joblessness and all the consequences that go with it. Why are you doing this to me, Singapore? What have I done to you?

Like I always say to people: If all else fails, I can always go back to Manila. Back to the open road.

i wake up at 8 am. i arrive at work at 9. work work work until 10pm, 11pm, or 12 am. i sleep at 2 am. the cycle repeats every day, including weekends.

but weeks do not end.

on monday, i was fired from work. on tuesday, i got accepted at bergen national academy of arts. on wednesday, i posted an ad of my room at easyroommate.com. on thursday, i learned that there are no scholarships for foreigners.

today is friday. tomorrow is saturday. the day that follows is sunday, then monday.

the weeks do not end, unless i put an end on it.

like this: week. or: weeks.

if only it’s as easy as fragmented sentence construction, i would have gotten my life, thoughts, ego and dreams back.

i want it back. it’s the only way.

So this is how it feels to be suppressed. Self-expression is hindered by fear and the need to conform. When did the idea of losing a job ever made me fearful? Or maybe it isn’t fear, maybe just care. Taking care of my future. When did the idea of having a future ever bother me?

Because this is my attempt at independence. Financial independence, at least. I can’t just turn around and walk away. Or do stupid things like posting an unknowingly racist comment, which can be grounds for deportation.

“Careful, careful now. ‘Wag mo masyadong idiin at masisira ang beauty ng complexion ko. Alam mo namang mahirap ma-achieve ang golden tan.”-Suzette, Temptation Island

As for tans, I am less tan now–which my boss noticed and praised me for it. Frankly, I should be happy since praises are hard to come by in the workplace. Be happy that these praises concern you at all–even if superficial.

When ever was there a need to be non superficial here? The meaningful conversations I have here are randomly injected between discussions about the weekend that had passed and Twilight during cigarette breaks. Thank god for cigarettes, I can now have some meaning in my life.

And I feel like I’ve been less in touch with my friends, even though I’ve been seeing them often. How does one account for misplaced feelings and feelings of displacement? These are feelings, neither right or wrong. Might be symptomatic of bigger thoughts, which can be better understood. It’s this time of overwhelming feelings!

And you know what? Maybe no one really cares. It’s just about me and my ideas and probably my own vanity. Moving to a different place for a few months–who cares? It’s nothing compared to those families who’ve been separated for years. Four months is just like a dandruff in this tuft of life.

I’ve been told many, many times to not come back anymore. To find a job there. To marry a rich European guy. Knee-jerk reaction? SCREW YOU!

Now it’s like I want to believe them. Maybe it’s better to not come back anymore! To find a job there! To marry a rich European guy! Screw you, I’m not coming back! I might just do what you want me to do.

Sometimes my thoughts get off-tangent. Like now. I forget why I’ve been called in the first place.

So here it goes.

I’ve been very busy with freelance work even after declaring that this is going to be my gap year. Yeah right! Money is still king! I guess I haven’t been very good with creative multitasking unlike other people who can maintain day jobs and still spend a lot of time working on their personal projects. I’ve started on a collage (just one!) for a series which I thought I’d be able to finish and exhibit before I leave for Biella on June. Alas, I failed to deliver!

So I think it’s best to make a promise to myself that I won’t be taking any freelance work while in Italy. It will all going to be about the program and my art/psych project. It’s going to be the first time for me to produce such a thing; it’s going to be more of a curatorial project (I think!) more than a visual design one. But things may still change of course.

Which makes me anxious–what experience do I have in doing these curatorial/ community projects? NIL! That’s what’s keeping me on my toes. I’ve done collaborative projects with friends for fund raisers, but that’s it. I wonder how my magazine art direction skills take place in this area; this is going to be so different! So different that it takes place in a far-off continent with people speaking an altogether different language. It’s all going to be new!

My anxiousness also comes from this sudden questioning of skills: am I good enough? Am I going to be creative enough? What now, I’m a different person now than what I was when I wrote my proposal! Things have changed in my hometown since the disaster, mostly in a positive manner. How will I then position my project?

Questions, questions, questions!

Somehow, I relieve myself of anxiety by thinking, hey, you wouldn’t be granted a place in the residency and full scholarship if the panel didn’t believe in you, right? But sometimes, I reply to myself (yes I’m overanalytical like this) that maybe they’re just taking a risk with someone NEW–age- and nationality-wise. Europe is all about taking risks! It’s not about qualifications! But my positive self reacts, how about your portfolio? That does count, don’t you think?

Well, maybe. Personally, I think it’s still too cluttered and would need a bit more tightening! But bah!

Silly talking to myself! Think I’m going nuts, ha ha ha! I’m very dizzy with these thoughts that sometimes they overwhelm the supposed fun component of experiencing something new.

Just a few more weeks and I’m off. I just know it, my life is going to change. Still I feel dizzy, and I haven’t even written my bio for the residency.

Perhaps I’ll post sometime here, when stats hit zero for a week.

It’s my graduation from plain blogging to a more defined, artsier posting.

Blah. ‘Artsier’.

Until we meet again, dear Lalijamboree.

It’s botikpetra from now on.