Iris Sunrises
[Recent Entries][Archive][Friends][User Info]
Below are the 20 most recent journal entries recorded in the "isobels_burden" journal:[<< Previous 20 entries]
|
09:22 pm
[Link] |
Week 6
After a month and a half of fermenting in lovely Laguna, I finally get a job offer from another ad agency. A Real one.
The office is at the Fort, and though I have to take two bus rides to get to it, the location is peaceful (because there's less smog and blaring jeepneys around). It was my first time to go there, and I was left with the impression of entering the Spa because well, the decor had lots of green (pictures of plants and green furniture lying around) and black reed bamboo-like furnishings around. The creatives' area can be easily glimpsed from the reception and damn, do they look busy!
Maybe I'd just gotten used to this other agency I've been free-lancing in, with their spacious floor and many departments and cubbyholes. Though the guys I work with are just one group, their room was even bigger than what my previous agency occupied.
Anyway, I was given a handsome offer of a substantial monthly salary (still above acceptable even if it was already net) plus a monthly allowance that can cover part of the traveling expenses (or rent if I get to move to the city). I said I'd think about this and give them a call or a text. The need is apparently immediate and I'm still not used to the idea of going to work on Monday next week (damn bum life grew on me! but at least i get to finish my soap operas haha)
It's a real agency. And I'm scared shitless that I've been having really annoying stomach cramps the whole day which I attributed to a) eating three whole mangoes with my bare hands for the past weekend b) having instant coffee for breakfast c) my period is fast approaching. I made a beeline to the bathroom once mother and I got home. I hope this is not as bad as December's episode, I don't want to be hospitalized again.
But it is a real big agency. And I will have someone to talk to to broaden my horizons (as Lawin put it when I met him, "You don't need someone to teach you how to copywrite, you just need someone to talk to you.")
Anyway, I'm waiting/hoping for an offer from the other agency where I'm free-lancing, though it's just digital compared to today's promise of ATL/BTL glory. I'd like to see how much I'm really worth.
I've been wrung out every week for copy tests for different agencies and running errands with mother, it feels like I haven't really had any free time. But well, at least I'll be employed when my dad gets home.
Wish me luck!
|
|
10:05 am
[Link] |
Week 1
So the first week has passed, though I haven't felt it much as I've been accompanying mother all over town, paying real property taxes and shopping for groceries and other knickknacks for my sister's prom dress. Baba finished my portfolio, which I think he did a fantastic job on, except that he's not really impressed with my sample works (hey, what can I possibly have done if I've spent 6 months surfing the net and hauling props to and from Cebu?) so he suggest I do some radios that are makulit and catchy. So far I've sent a copy to Jenny at Y&R and gave Marky a glimpse of it which he hopefully passed on to his new HR.
I've cleaned half of my room, and gotten the itchiest throat ever as a result, while the other half of my room still remains dusty as ever. I've also been to the city twice this past week, that last time Baba commented I had dark circles under my eyes, probably caused by sleeping late or just plain worrying about my life.
I'm supposed to start on a new project of mine, but I don't think I have the right materials, still experimenting with methods of skinning wires without scarring the copper underneath.
I'm no longer very angry, but the desolation part is slightly growing with each hour that passes. I'm bored as hell, and checking all my online social networking accounts just take up 2 hours of my day.
I'm bonding more with my cat, taught her how to fetch the ball and stand up on her hind legs.
So...
there.
Off to Week 2.
|
|
02:37 pm
[Link] |
I AM A CREATIVE
So the boss offered me this: I resign effective tomorrow but become consultant til the end of the month, just so I can tide things over. I thought it was nice of him to consider that, til I was given the scope of duties : account management and PR.
PR I can do and probably improve on.
Account Management and Client Servicing I have done and I know am good at as well.
But I'm a Creative. Ass-kissing was not and will not be what my heart yearns for. (well, I can do it but only up to a certain point)
I know the boss means well and probably feels bad about ditching me all of a sudden. But then, I feel like I'm just gonna get used in the two weeks that he's giving me.
It still is a source of income though, while I'm looking for work and doing interviews.
Agh. Why does this have to happen to me?
|
|
10:52 pm
[Link] |
And the perfect way to start 2010
<input ... ></input><input ... > Is to get fired.
Let go.
Released.
thrown out.
unregularized.
--
But somehow I anticipated not getting regularized, because, well, I didn't really see the point when my boss rarely assigns anything to me. What knocked the wind out of me was that my last day would be this Friday. And I have no back up plan. No pending application with other ad agencies or other companies. Not enough savings to last me half of the year. And not enough material to put in an advertising portfolio.
I never questioned my writing capabilities, because writing for me was natural as thinking, though my thoughts often come in sudden and uncontrollable bursts. I've been told a lot of times, I write good, I should write more, I should make a living out of it. But why do I feel so stupid when it comes to coming up with the decade's catchiest phrase? Is copywriting really not my cup of tea?
I went into this industry with every intention of excelling, viewed copywriting as unchartered territory that I can somehow master because I have a brain (and because boyfie wins awards from ideas I pitched while on the ride home). But I was told, earlier this evening, that copywriting isn't my best suite.
And since I'm still a roiling mass of emotions (predominantly anger and desolation), this entry is discombobulated as well.
|
|
05:25 pm
[Link] |
Blindsided
I've never written of our troubles that much, except for our first few weeks when I found that you had very outdated expectations when it came to boyfriend-girlfriend stuff, but now I turn to my trusty blog to vent out what I feel. I will not put this on private, because I felt that hiding what I've felt, what I've thought, what I've wished, was the greatest downfall of this relationship.
I'm not good, I've known that for a long time. I've been burned, wounded, scarred all my life and I doubted that I could ever find that someone who could just take me for what I am. Or so what I think I can be.
I've always wanted to be the girlfriend that every guy wanted, the one who wouldn't demand too much time, too much attention, too much love, too much caring. I tried. But I guess I'm still too much of a girl. I still had hormones. I still needed things. I think too much. I bitch. A lot.
And that was something that I wanted you to understand or get used to, if we were in something that would run for the whole of our lives. I am not always the good-natured girl you can drag along to anywhere you want to go to just because I'm your girlfriend. I always have a reason, no matter how petty it may seem, it still is a reason. I say the word no, because it exists, and the situation calls for it. I say it because I have to put my foot down somewhere before I get mistaken for the kind that just says yes all the time.
And yeah, you have some quirks that really do merit that kind of bitchiness. Because you just never seem to pay attention to details. To where you're headed, what you're going to do, and especially how it can affect me.
I just try to forget it, even if it irks me so much. I blow up when these small inanities happen, maybe because I've had enough. And I know you've had enough of my tantrums and my silences.
But for me, the other night's silence is valid. After all, in the three years that we've been together, this is the first time that I've actually caught you lying to my face. What do you expect me to feel or do after I catch you wearing your shirt inside out? So I was set on fuming in silence, let the night pass, probably not even wake you up the next day as punishment.
Hurting still, you dropped another bomb: " that you couldn't take my attitude anymore. That we may have lost that chemistry. That you didn't want to spend your life with someone as spoiled, as cheeky, as maldita, as evil as I am. That I may not be the one. Not that you're changing the subject, but I have been difficult and you have been difficult so what if we break up? What are your fucking thoughts on this?"
I went from wounded to dead in the few minutes between two text messages.
Up to now I'm still confused about feeling anger or sadness. I felt like all my life just flushed down the pipe where the kitty poop goes through during the weekly cleaning. What am I supposed to feel or do when the person whom I've changed my life for, the reason I went into advertising for, the pillar I hang on to everyday I wake up suddenly tells me "I'm sorry, I never wanted this to happen. I don't want to spend my life with you."
|
|
10:47 am
[Link] |
Rant
I'm no longer a girl.
I'm just someone who whines too much when her feet get wet.
What you don't see are the slippers it took me five months to choose because they are the right fit, the right style and the right price
get wet, sloshy and unwearable.
What you don't see is me observing the absence of your so-called chivalry as you half-drag me through water puddles on the street,
I get wet, not just my slipper-clad feet, but also the whole left side of my body as you haphazardly carry the umbrella I demanded we use to at least save us from the pelting rain.
I'm no longer a girl.
I'm just someone who just knows her way around Quezon City, even at the dead of the night.
Who you could drag to a funeral wake to godknowswhere via commute after a friggin hard day's work.
What you don't see is me being worried,
Of not really knowing my way around
Of what trouble we could get into should we step into a dark alley
Of what my mother would scream at me when I get home at 1am "from letting myself get dragged around" by you again.
I'm no longer a girl.
I'm just someone who annoys you because I get miffed when you've overslept and I've been waiting for an hour
so we could go to work together.
In comfort for your allergy to heat
In haste so you and I won't be late.
What you don't see is the hurt and the disappointment I had to stomach because I just wanted to tell you
that I will still wait for you.
I'm no longer a girl.
Who can be a bitch.
Who just turns off the phone to calm myself.
Who has hormones
and feelings
and soft body parts that get jostled.
I'm just someone
who you say you've had enough of
with an attitude
that exceeds your patience.
I didn't have any patience for you either.
Just something that I thought
hoped
wished
wanted
to come across as
concern or love.
So fuck you.
|
|
09:48 pm
[Link] |
yes i still want to be a writer but
i'm supposed to churn out 3000 words a day for my job. I said I wanted to write again when I left the corporate monotony that being a marketing julalay was. Sure I got what I wanted, I'm writing again, everyday of the week for the past ten months. But the rules are killing me. the quota is killing me. So I say to myself, this is what I wanted, and at least it's stable. I got a shot at writing for a TV series again but I don't know how and why my headwriter didn't call me back. Then I just got my ITR yesterday and I can't believe that I only earned the total of my OT pay from the julalay stint for the ten months of writing for the Internet. Writing for the Internet sounds cool but it's not because I don't have a byline, I don't get to write the way I want to and I have a frickin deadline everyday that by the end of the day or by the end of the week I don't have the strength or the mind to write coherently for myself.
It's just sad that I've been spewing out 14000 words a week but I can't lay claim to any of the articles my trainer tells me are worth putting into Elle or Vogue or some other magazine that I can't even afford to buy on my salary but just end up in websites that post links to sites full of pictures of barely-cald women or kitchen supplies.
So, do I still want to write for a living?
i still do.
--
|
|
10:31 pm
[Link] |
profile hopping
leaves me in a reflective mood
when i look at friends' pictures and see
weddings
live births
baptismals
and happy plastic co-workers
as i close each window
the more i feel my age
and how the years
slip by like
my hair through a brush
and how
i just seem to be losing
more and more
strands each day
|
|
06:59 pm
[Link] |
courage
is what it finally took (and the realization that I may be wasting my time and my 201 files on something that sucked the life force out of me) to quit my then very un-glamorous job as a marketing julalay. Yesterday was my 1st day at my new job (but today I'm absent because of the flu boohoo) as a copywriter.
Before you all exclaim and bring out the champagne for my congratulatory party, I would have to say that it's not what you think. Yes, I finally bagged a copywriting position. But a WEB copywriting position at that, more like a ghostwriter churning out 2k8 words a day.
There, now that you'd all settled back into your haunches, let's at least be happy that I got myself out of the career plateau that I've been traversing the past year and a half. So now, what do I say except..
Forward ho!
blergh...
|
|
01:01 pm
[Link] |
Jet set
Tuesday/Wednesday - LAX
Wednesday/Thursday - Centennial Terminal
Tuesday-MIAA to MActan International
Wednesday- Mactan International to MIAA again
Thursday and Friday - Makati.
Have I slept yet?
Nope.
Go!
|
|
04:12 pm
[Link] |
Summer
is when the sun licks your back with the ferocity of a lover's desperate craving.
|
|
01:16 pm
[Link] |
grabbed from Soph
uh, yeah..
The Wild Rose Random Brutal Love Dreamer (RBLD)  shmolorful, but unpicked. You are The Wild Rose. Prone to bouts of cynicism, sarcasm, and thorns, you excite a certain kind of man. Hoping to gather you up, he flirts and winks and asks you out, ultimately professing his love. Then you make him bleed. Why? Because you're the rare, independent, self-sufficient kind of woman who does want love, but not from a weakling. You don't seem to take yourself too seriously, and that's refreshing. You aren't uptight; you don't over-plan. Romance-wise, sex isn't a top priority--a true relationship would be preferable. For your age, you haven't had a lot of bonafide love experience, though, and this kind of gets to core of the issue. You're very selective. The problem is them, not you, right? You have lofty standards that few measure up to. You're out there all right, but not to be picked up by just anyone. Your exact female opposite: The Dirty Little Secret  Deliberate Gentle Sex Master Always avoid: The Bachelor (DGSM) Consider: The Vapor Trail (RBLM) | Link: The Online Dating Persona Test @ OkCupid - free online dating
My profile name: : tigerbeb |
|
|
10:24 pm
[Link] |
Buried Alive
A year ago, I started out with a resignation to my fate as a fawn cast far away from the folksong and the flowers, a clueless mind, and this:
Now after a year and after moving to the other end of our team's workspace and having healthcare policies drummed, stuffed and overflowing from my ears, my "area" looks like this
And everyday I manage to get home at 12mn because of this
(pity for Ms. Ticman who had very creative parents)
*sigh*
Although there had been chances of growth, I don't really see myself sprouting in that direction.
Hay folksong and flowers...wherefore art thou?
Current Mood:  tired
Current Music: Juno OST playing from Dexter's Multiply
|
|
11:55 am
[Link] |
3:15 in the afternoon
is when I usually wake up if i fell asleep after lunch on a lazy daisy weekend or bumday or an afternoon lounging in bed with baba with the sun glaring on the galvanized rooftops of a desolate suburbia with houses hollow of its owners save for the ate's and the yaya's or the housewives watching the soap-opera world go by.
3:15pm
|
|
10:54 pm
[Link] |
As 2007 ends in a few more days..
...Tris draws out a long ragged sigh, all of the last threads of air whistling out of her thin, bone-weary body, all 21 grams of it just floats up to the surface, never to be seen again, or until it condenses into salty hot tears.
Cheers for 2007 while I shrug my shoulders and head on to '08.
Current Mood:  cold
|
|
11:09 am
[Link] |
Meet my new Bebe!
Her name's Halaya and I got her for Christmas from the most wonderfulest bestest man in the world.. SANTA! hehe.
Thanks tigger.
Current Mood:  giddy
|
|
01:51 am
[Link] |
2 bronzes!
So I posted this in the wee hours of the morning in all of my sites, but hell, I'm a proud gerlflen.
Congrats to my tigger for winning in the Phil Ad Cong 07! Upto now he's still prolly celebrating this victory over a can of stale beer. hehe.
See winning TVC clickey here
|
|
12:17 pm
[Link] |
Crash Bang Boom, Erap gets out of the room
This post is n-days late, pretty much the same as how and when I got hold of info on last week's explosion at Glorietta 2 as we are cloistered from the real world. First came beb Rj's call then the sirens and ambulances started coming in, 2 minutes apart (as my office is just across Makati Med). By the time we got out around 7pm, PSG personnel were zipping down Dela Rosa St., securing the area for Her Excellency herself there to pay (play) respects to the bereaved. Some guy officemates were sent to assist in the ER, and of course, make pabango.
After crossing to Valero and traversing said street with no luck in finding any means to get home, we had no choice but to go to Landmark. Surprisingly, there was an absence of traffic as we approached the Greenbelt Area. Our usual FX ride was still there, unbothered by the police cordons and the rubble just a few steps away. It was deathly quiet, despite the presence of a hundred or so policemen and media personnel so unlike the usual Friday night atmosphere of blazing lights and sounds from the bustling shops. There were only floodlights casting stark lighting on the remains of what used to be my everyday route.
~~~
Fast forward to one week, and the bomb theory has been replaced by a build up of methane gas at the basement, as concluded by our very reliable PNP inspectors and the world-class facilities used by our SOCO. *snort* God, how long do they think can they fool us?
And just the other day? Erap gets presidential pardon. All of a sudden, the Estrada family calls Mrs. Arroyo 'Madame President' after years of attesting that their patriarch is the rightful ruler.
All in two weeks.
You think these can make us forget? I hope whoever is behind all of these gets a dose of their own methane. And no kind of clemency will ever save their asses.
Makes you shake your head in disgust, right?
Current Mood:  disappointed
|
|
07:01 pm
[Link] |
grabbed from Myx
Each player of this game starts with 6 weird things about you. People who get tagged need to write a list of their own 6 weird things as well as state the rule clearly. In the end, you need to choose 6 people to be tagged and list their names. Don’t forget to leave a comment that says you are tagged in their comments and tell them to read your blog.
- I have a tendency to neatly stack papers and documents of my officemates but not my own scraps of paper. My desk looks like the scratch-paper tray where people leave their misprinted documents for some other purpose.
- I can dance funny and keep a straight face for a full-minute.
- I eat 4 times a day in the office, and once more when i get off work, everyday.
- I eat clean according to my friends. What's wrong with making ulam and rice last and not have any rice particles left on your plate?
- I can survive on 2 glasses of water a day. Which is wrong and is a harbinger of dehydration and UTI.
- I put mustard in my sisig whenever I can.
so there.
|
|
12:56 am
[Link] |
i'm in fezbuk too
all by my lonesome self.
'cept for beb and ping.
add me.
yihaw.
|
[<< Previous 20 entries] |
![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif?v=92.2){kind=small}
isobels_burden's journal