Stumbling Upon a Memory
It's quite a shame that I am somehow a part of our company's "media" people that I never read newspapers anymore. You know, read read.Flipping through the pages and getting my fingers dirty. It's sad to realize that I've been a missing a whole gamut of things, feelings I used to relish way back when I was still in university. I used to wake up really early in the morning on Wednesdays and Saturdays, the two days I actually read 75% of the only newspaper I touch, PDI [Jing T., don't kill me, haha!] Those were the days when I'd lounge around in my PJs, half awake but clutching my newsies, a cup of coffee on the other hand and hot pan de sal in front of me. I used to be alone in the house at this time because my mom is off to work and my brother had early classes, and off to UP as well. It was such a glorious, glorious feeling (it makes me warm and fuzzy now, you know).
Fast forward to 2009, I wake up to the sound of my annoying alarm tone, hit snooze and go back to sleep, hoping time would stand still and give me 10 more minutes of precious sleeping time. At 9 AM, when it really hits me that I am late for work, I get up, have my coffee (take note: no breakfast), hit the showers, get dressed, slap on make up and get into the car. This has been my routine for the past nearly two years I joined the company. At work, I browse through the online versions of broadsheets, skimming only on what I think is important.
On a night I was searching for inspiration, reading blogs, one of it being Jayvee's, I stumbled upon one of my childhood/teenage heroes' blog, Pam Pastor.
You see, way before the era of blogs and Flickr, I admired Pam's writings and all the visuals that came with it. If you would take a peek at my old room in Quezon City, my shelves are lined up with rows and rows of clear books, all of which are filled up with clippings of Pam's article (and of another great, great writer, (Tals Diaz) . It was like my little book of inspiration, I pulled it out and read it when I felt my life sucked because I was single, broke or just plain uninspired. I never ceased to be amazed of how she came up of such creativity and wit that it fueled my love in dabbling with writing (which is another story). More than the authors I grew up with and the young adult (yes, Sweet Valley High, Uni and all that) books I read as a kid, Pam was part of the writers who somehow "guided" me through growing up.
As I read her entries it was like going through that feeling again, of waking up and enjoying breakfast, reading the papers. It was like a dam that washed me over, realizing I have forgotten the simple joys that got me through the worst and sometimes most mundane things I worry about.
Nocturnal angel is definitely making me go back to my old habit of relishing every breakfast I eat and reading the newspapers, even if I just really read them every Wednesdays and Saturdays.
Fast forward to 2009, I wake up to the sound of my annoying alarm tone, hit snooze and go back to sleep, hoping time would stand still and give me 10 more minutes of precious sleeping time. At 9 AM, when it really hits me that I am late for work, I get up, have my coffee (take note: no breakfast), hit the showers, get dressed, slap on make up and get into the car. This has been my routine for the past nearly two years I joined the company. At work, I browse through the online versions of broadsheets, skimming only on what I think is important.
On a night I was searching for inspiration, reading blogs, one of it being Jayvee's, I stumbled upon one of my childhood/teenage heroes' blog, Pam Pastor.
You see, way before the era of blogs and Flickr, I admired Pam's writings and all the visuals that came with it. If you would take a peek at my old room in Quezon City, my shelves are lined up with rows and rows of clear books, all of which are filled up with clippings of Pam's article (and of another great, great writer, (Tals Diaz) . It was like my little book of inspiration, I pulled it out and read it when I felt my life sucked because I was single, broke or just plain uninspired. I never ceased to be amazed of how she came up of such creativity and wit that it fueled my love in dabbling with writing (which is another story). More than the authors I grew up with and the young adult (yes, Sweet Valley High, Uni and all that) books I read as a kid, Pam was part of the writers who somehow "guided" me through growing up.
As I read her entries it was like going through that feeling again, of waking up and enjoying breakfast, reading the papers. It was like a dam that washed me over, realizing I have forgotten the simple joys that got me through the worst and sometimes most mundane things I worry about.
Nocturnal angel is definitely making me go back to my old habit of relishing every breakfast I eat and reading the newspapers, even if I just really read them every Wednesdays and Saturdays.