Being A Sport

On one hand is the Aux Sportsfest. Call center agents from locally-based centers were gathered at People's Park on that glorious day. The sun was cooperating, hiding behind clouds and seemingly aware that we nocturnals have gone on too long without it that its presence would be too overwhelming. I remembered this was Madam Chaka's dream gathering sans the political flavor- way back when the boards were allowed. It was nice that it came true. I suppose it could start a bit of a revolution for our industry. At the very bit least, it gives us a reason to meet others of our own kind.

And mingle we did.

Some sighed collectively at host Kent's dreaminess while I scoffed at the proliferation of varying degrees of bis and homos in Davao. Albeit it's a non-problem, I just think there's too many. I've read somewhere that 90% of male call center agents are not straight, a term used so loosely it doesn't mean its weight. At that moment, that fact glared at me in the face.

In the following days, agents would be battling it out in various discipline of sports. Each would be playing for their team, although considering the atrition rate of BPO industries, they might as well swap players; with people who bat in my league considering only one thing: where the hot bodies are.

On the other hand is a situation that calls for me to be a sport. It is a circumstance that requires me to be noncommittal but present. Right when the motorcade was commencing, the trio of us walked some ways off to Tata Benito's where the service was great but the coffee lame. Conveniently located in a very charming renovated building in downtown Davao, it offered one of the blandest drinks I have ever tasted. The drink was also asking me to be a sport about it.

I occasionally take a peek at my companions and although they make conscious efforts not to look at one another too long, they're trying nonchalance and strained conversation conveyed a more powerful but secret intimacy. I can't exactly say I've been there and done that but going against the grain of what is conventional, of what is socially acceptable, is hard. I know it will hurt, one way or the other.

As I raised the cold glass to my lips and took a bite of the tuna-filled pandesal, I offered a silent cheers to being a 'sport', or sportsmanship if that is the correct term. Here's to the games that we all love to play.

Happy Heart's Day

Love doesn't make the world go round. Love is what makes the ride worthwhile. - Franklin Jones

Loving gregariously through these babies. Cutest ever.

Oh well. :)

Love Language

One morning, I saw Lucy Torres and Kris Aquina talk about the Five Love Languages on TV and it piqued my attention. Take God for the internet and it took only a minute of googling to find out what mine is. I took this quiz at Greater Quest and these are my results.

Score - Love Language
9 - Words of Affirmation
3 - Quality Time
5 - Receiving of Gifts
4 - Acts of Service
9 - Physical Touch

It means that I'd like to listen and, I think more than the first one, I'd like to touch. Sounds so needy. No wonder nothing's working. Hahaha. What do you think? What's yours?

Photo from here.

One Year

February 11. It was exactly a year ago when we signed up our contracts as call center agents. We were Wave 5A and we called ourselves Team Orgy, simply because of our hedonistic urges to kiss and do body shots, without regard to sexual orientation, when we get drunk- which was most of our weekends when we were still on training. After training, we were deployed to different teams and didn't get to hang out that often anymore. It's now a year later. Most of us have gone on to different things: some quit the moment they passed as registered nurses and some have just disappeared. Only about 10 of us have left. But while we don't get to do our gimiks anymore, we still wear our team's name like a badge of honor. Something in the pitchers of margarita and tequila and Red Horse didn't quite get washed out after the hangover cleared up: we were, still is, and forever will be Team Orgy.

Collage by the talented Lestot

Crazy YM

I was chatting with Freny, a friend from work, about senseless nothings when YM went crazy. All contacts I have from work suddenly disconnected and then after 3 minutes got reconnected. Obviously, something's wrong with the office's internet connection. An ISP problem, perhaps? Whatever the reason, something should be done about it because on my computer at the office, this has been happening quite frequently. At least now I know, it wasn't just my computer.


Crazy.

Firm Massage & Spa

It was 2 am and we've finished our beer at Jickong's with Esoy. I needed to withdraw and Avs wanted a burger so we walked, or in Avs' case, limped to BDO which was incidentally in front of McDonald's. We didn't know that McDo and Jollibee were both closed at that particular time of the week so good thing there was Chowking. After Avs got his halo-halo (there was no burger), I encouraged him to go back to the massage parlor we passed by a while ago which was conveniently located along JP Laurel, a major thoroughway where all public transpo passes by.

The massage parlor's name is Firm Massage & Spa. The name's rather uninspired but I guess it doesn't really matter. The entrance of the place's kinda creepy because one had to pass by a lonely hallway on the first floor and go up a stair. However, the parlor itself was great. The girl manning the desk was fortunately very friendly and didn't seem to mind our silly questions(we were tipsy after all). I noticed that the place is cold enough, appropriately dim, smelled nicely with relaxing oils and had a background music that wasn't too loud. I looked through the services they offer and decided to try the combo one. I think it was called Firm Combo and it's a combination of swedish, thai, shiatsu and reflexology in an hour. It costs P250. I was surprised to find out the massage was actually good, even if the masseur sometimes presses too hard (which is very relative, of course). It was so good I actually dozed off twice in the session. Too bad, I wasn't able to get the massaeur's name and I doubt I'd remember his face.

After we paid and went down the flight of stairs, I wondered what if I actually opted for the single-style massages, which was cheaper by P50, would I get the same service? What exactly are the differences between the 4 styles and if they actually bother to change styles if you choose a specific one (or if you don't know any better)? Anyway, I guess that would be something I'd like to check out because I'll definitely be back here for some more self-loving. OR, I'd probably go there between 6am to 5pm as a whole body massage costs only P160- very affordable!

***
Firm Spa - Main
Door 1&2 Garcia Bldg.
Veloso Cor. Cervantes St., Obrero
Tel # (082) 227-9314

Firm Spa - Bajada Branch
2nd Level Door 1 Gutierrez Bldg.
JP Laurel St., Bajada
Tel # (082) 303-0650

Firm Spa - Lanang Branch
K5 Bldg.
Near the Caltex station, intersection of Bajada and R.Castillo Street in Lanang

Not Knowing What You Want

And I loved deeper, And I spoke sweeter, And I watched an eagle as it was flyin', And he said some day I hope you get the chance, To live like you were dyin' -Tim McGraw

It's funny when you don't know what you want: you find yourself achieving your short-term plans but feels lost somehow- like what you toiled for a day, or even for a week, isn't worth the hulabaloo. For the past week, I've been staying at the office for an everage of 14 hours a day, attending training while at the same time doing my audits. Fortunately, I was able to achieve my monthly quota. But that's it.

Yesterday I was supposed to go out with some friends, some old and a couple new, to Torres, the land of overflowing booze and madness. It's ironic how a few steps away from all the merriment exists a world that's totally opposite- that of people mourning for their recently deceased loved ones. Well it's actually not ironic if you think it this way: while people lose sleep over the unfortunate fact of one's passing through this temporal life, others lose sleep in a place where one can temporarily forget this temporal life. If you drink enough, you get numb and lose sight of the problems and pressures of your daily life, and only a small concrete wall demarcates the boundaries of these two seemingly different circumstances.

But because I was too tired, I didn't. I slept instead. Of course, the world wouldn't stop revolving and will just move on in response to the insignificance of that last week's drill.

Later on, I may watch a movie (I already did yesterday, after lunch at Ding Hao, and saw Inkheart which was crappy) or go out earlier out of the house to make tambay with friends at Roxas. Or I may again just sleep and rest. Whatever it is, I need to think about why finishing work and achieving my deadlines didn't taste as sweet when I did. I need to because I want to be able to appreciate life and I want to be inspired. I think I need to find a way to, as Tim McGraw sings, "live like you were dying."

Photo taken illegally inside the boardroom.