okay so today seems like blog-athon day for me.
sssshhh now...I know I should be working...but then...
| You Are Vanilla Ice Cream |
 You go well with anyone and fit into any situation. You are most compatible with rocky road ice cream. |
Aug 4, 2005
"What's in a name? That which we call a rose
By any other word would smell as sweet"
when i started working years ago, I insisted on using my nickname.
but then of course, my first job required communicating via email to foreign customers...so they had me use "Maria" to sign off my email messages.
so I was formally "Maria" for the five months that I worked there. Although of course, everyone at work call me "Socs".
and then I went to work for another company and again, I insisted on using my nickname. Even with email directed to foreign counterparts, I was "Socs". Sure, they thought it weird, and they probably can't say it right without being reminded of a foot garment. But I persisted on using it.
On my most recent trip though, it all changed. I was "Socorro". Before I got there, that was the name they knew I had...while I was there they addressed me as such...even when I left, I was "Socorro". My Spanish colleague sure got a kick out of that. Imagine her approaching me with a question imploring "Socorro! Socorro!" (and if you dont get it, ask me sometime).
And then yesterday when I sent out an email to yet another foreign counterpart, I was surprised that I automatically signed it using my full second name.
God does this really mean I'm getting old?!?
My mom would love this. She's always loved my name. Now she's waiting until they all use both my first AND second names.
My point? Nothing. I go by many names. And so do most Filipinos. So shoot me.
By any other word would smell as sweet"
when i started working years ago, I insisted on using my nickname.
but then of course, my first job required communicating via email to foreign customers...so they had me use "Maria" to sign off my email messages.
so I was formally "Maria" for the five months that I worked there. Although of course, everyone at work call me "Socs".
and then I went to work for another company and again, I insisted on using my nickname. Even with email directed to foreign counterparts, I was "Socs". Sure, they thought it weird, and they probably can't say it right without being reminded of a foot garment. But I persisted on using it.
On my most recent trip though, it all changed. I was "Socorro". Before I got there, that was the name they knew I had...while I was there they addressed me as such...even when I left, I was "Socorro". My Spanish colleague sure got a kick out of that. Imagine her approaching me with a question imploring "Socorro! Socorro!" (and if you dont get it, ask me sometime).
And then yesterday when I sent out an email to yet another foreign counterpart, I was surprised that I automatically signed it using my full second name.
God does this really mean I'm getting old?!?
My mom would love this. She's always loved my name. Now she's waiting until they all use both my first AND second names.
My point? Nothing. I go by many names. And so do most Filipinos. So shoot me.
Aug 3, 2005
old and outdated...
...or maybe not. i'm not sure really.
but anyway,i found this entry in my little notebook i carry with me. Dated June 21, 2005:
I had dinner with one of my dearest friends last night, and somehow our conversation drifted towards travel and immigration. So many people we know are leaving or have left with very understandable reasons. Their reasons would be ours too, only we don't have it in us to leave.
This made me think of my reasons for not wanting to go.
There is the fear factor of course, moving to a different country with a different culture, language, traditions in an entirely different surrounding topped with the pressure of the difficulties of work or finding a new job, a place to live speaks of one chaotic mess.
And then of course there's the finance side of things. Leaving means having the means to support yourself for the time that you're still finding a job, or at least until you have that paycheck. I would have to have something to live off on while I attempt to kick-start my new life. But then again, other people with far less have done it, and they have survived, are surviving....So why won't I???
There has to be some other reason for not wanting to go. ...And I do have that reason, one thats so silly and impractical and somewhat selfish that is both believable and unbelievable -- depending on how well you know me.
My reason I suppose is ME. Myself and what I am and what I yearn for. I am looking for something. Something that is so common it can be found anywhere. But being who I am, I would rather that I find it here. Its that valuable to me that I choose to wait it out here and not anywhere else. I have been asking myself who I am and who I would like to be so much lately that I realized that this is something that means a lot to me. And the things that you value most govern the things that you do, and the things that you do define your character and who you ultimately ARE. In short, my reason is that I am myself and what I am waiting for is here. And it is worth waiting for.
Hence until someone or something changes my mind about this, or until I find what I'm looking for, I shall stay put and keep my feet planted firmly on Filipino soil.
but anyway,i found this entry in my little notebook i carry with me. Dated June 21, 2005:
I had dinner with one of my dearest friends last night, and somehow our conversation drifted towards travel and immigration. So many people we know are leaving or have left with very understandable reasons. Their reasons would be ours too, only we don't have it in us to leave.
This made me think of my reasons for not wanting to go.
There is the fear factor of course, moving to a different country with a different culture, language, traditions in an entirely different surrounding topped with the pressure of the difficulties of work or finding a new job, a place to live speaks of one chaotic mess.
And then of course there's the finance side of things. Leaving means having the means to support yourself for the time that you're still finding a job, or at least until you have that paycheck. I would have to have something to live off on while I attempt to kick-start my new life. But then again, other people with far less have done it, and they have survived, are surviving....So why won't I???
There has to be some other reason for not wanting to go. ...And I do have that reason, one thats so silly and impractical and somewhat selfish that is both believable and unbelievable -- depending on how well you know me.
My reason I suppose is ME. Myself and what I am and what I yearn for. I am looking for something. Something that is so common it can be found anywhere. But being who I am, I would rather that I find it here. Its that valuable to me that I choose to wait it out here and not anywhere else. I have been asking myself who I am and who I would like to be so much lately that I realized that this is something that means a lot to me. And the things that you value most govern the things that you do, and the things that you do define your character and who you ultimately ARE. In short, my reason is that I am myself and what I am waiting for is here. And it is worth waiting for.
Hence until someone or something changes my mind about this, or until I find what I'm looking for, I shall stay put and keep my feet planted firmly on Filipino soil.
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