the best part

I guess the best part about being a journalist was the travel and the meeting different people all the time. The personal stories you collect over the years, the connections you make in far flung places, it is quite amazing. I am not a very social person, but as a journalist I was forced out of my little shell and interact with all kinds of people – the business types, the politicos, the man on the street, everyone. Working in communications, this experience has been very useful for me, although I don’t meet as many diverse people now, which is a shame really.

I don’t miss the running around after “narasumber”, or phoning up sources in the middle of their massages (yes that happened, such a nice man to pick up the phone in the middle of it, on a weekend too!), but I do miss the human stories. I loved listening to people’s stories and getting it on paper. It doesn’t take much, everybody has a story they want to share and it only takes receptiveness to get it out. It was always a challenge to get something out of a famous person that had never been written before. Sometimes though, you find a person already so well publicized, but who are so ready to tell you his/her story, that it felt a little like giving them a blowjob. I hated it when that happens.

I also miss having someone call me up to ask whether “that street children group has a refrigerator at its basecamp?” and you just know that nice man is going to donate a fridge. Or that occasional phone call “will you write my biography?”

I’ve always said that if I don’t have a 9-to-5 job I’ll most likely procrastinate the days away … that may be true, but there is nothing I’d like better than to write the human stories … someday, when I no longer have a 9-to-5.


lost ideals

I’ve forgotten how long it’s been since I’ve stopped looking at my work as the path to making a mark on the world – a way to make sure that a part of me is left behind when I leave this existence.

Nowadays it’s difficult to be enthusiastic about my work. Not that it’s not exciting or challenging or gratifying … it is all that and more … but more and more I see it as nothing but just a job.

This may come across as ungrateful, since those early days of teaching English, no doubt my career has taken an upward trend. And yet, I seem to find it difficult to be excited about working overtime, to come to work when I’m supposed to be on holiday.

Not that I have anything else to do. None of the excuses of quality time with the family for me. I simply can’t find joy in working when I’m supposed to be resting. Mind you, you won’t find me grumbling when I have to put in more hours at the office or when I have to bring my work home (this last one I prefer) … but I delight in having time off, doing nothing but lie in bed with a good book, or spending time with my playstation 2. I sound like a major geek!

Maybe it’s the age factor? Maybe it’s a yearning of something more from life but not knowing where to find it?

I don’t know where they’ve gone, those lost ideals.