Life as AFAC

I’m not feeling well today. My throat felt raw yesterday and last night I couldn’t sleep even after downing a few strepsils. Today I have runny nose. I hope it doesn’t get worse. I don’t want to get an asthma attack when I’m all alone in Shanghai. That’s another thing. when I’m not feeling well I self-pity. Not the real despression-kind, just whiny and whimpering and basically act like a poor bratty kitten. Not at all like the usual cheery, independent, nothing is impossible Carol. When I’m sick, I just want to be babied.

Meow..meow.. meow…

Last night I saw at least three kids with red, glowing horns on their heads. That’s right, horns, and I was just on my way to Marriot’s so I wasn’t drunk yet. They were wearing headbands with two big, red christmas bulbs to celebrate (in weird Chinese sensibilities) the coming of Christ. But I swear they look like glowing horns like those headbands sold during Halloween. The young devils were innocently walking hand in hand with their parents, or being carried. It is the weirdest, scariest sight to see on Christmas eve. I swear. When I see them I see the anti-Christ.
Maybe they didn’t realize the irony, since Christmas for most mainlanders is just another reason to party and shop. They don’t know the concept of Christ, much less the concept of Anti-Christ. Maybe this is China’s revenge on me, because the other day I wore a Red Guard’s hat with my stylish red trench coat. The Singaporeans laughed, my Shanghainese colleague told me I’m scaring people because they don’t want to be reminded of the past. (Past? Underneath the sass pizazz & razmatazz, isn’t China still communist?) I guess that’s the equivalent of doing the Hail Hitler salute in Germany hehe.

i had too mch aof a drink. had free flowingf champaigne and vodka at marriots. hey if you paid rmb676 for a dinner you would also make sulit di ba? so leah, jenn and I mde sulit and the maitre d’whatever liked us and kept giving us vodka even though it’s pst cut off time. then we went to mint but didn t stay long coaz not happening. i like leah and jenn, hopefully we’d become good firneds. im getit ng hiccups now so bye. (but I wont get hangouver tom coz I downd 2 liveraide caps and it would sopppusedly abbsob the alcohol so your liver will remain happy and healthy.

merry chrialtrrmas eveyone.

ps. quotable quote from leah. her warning for me: “after 10pm in Shanghai, hell is empty. Shanghai is going to test your morals.”
pps. not to worry my family and friend.s. i am pretty grounded, and don’t like most party people anyway. and about drinking, naaaah, I had more action in makati. and bbdo. bbdo is such a fun agency. the most fun party people in touwn, the ceo of jwt left their adcongress party to join ours.

Although most people see me as Susan in Desperate Housewives, I relate most with Lynette and Bree. the former for being a successful career woman who is helpless at home, and Bree for being so OC, detail-oriented, and for wanting to do everything from scratch. But most people don’t see Bree in me, because well, I’m carefree and err…. I hate housework. With a passion.
I feel it’s a waste of time. I don’t like washing pots & pans and ironing the most. It’s so mundane and my hands get tired and painful. I’d rather pay someone to do it and use my almost non-existent spare time (and hands) painting, making accessories, writing blogs, shopping, sleeping, daydreaming. Ahhh daydreaming… I can’t understand why most adults don’t do it as much as when they were kids. I enjoy it so much I made a career out of it. I am now in Shanghai because of my ability to daydream. But of course we have to “daydream” with lots of parameters and tight deadlines… the stressful part that causes my 30-something CDs to have heart attacks, miscarriages, broken marriages and (I’m not kidding) lose skin color like Michael Jackson. That’s the irony of Advertising creatives, we have the mind of a child and the body of a geriatric.
Thus explains (or excuse) my dislike for routine things like housework. But since I moved to my new apartment I’ve morphed into Bree. I purposely didn’t get a maid yet. Maybe I just find it interesting because it’s all so new and not feel like routine yet. Or maybe because I still don’t have as much social life and spend more time at home. Or maybe I’ll get lazy again once the Ayi starts next week.
Currently I handwash most clothes and ironed sheets this morning (not fun). I seem to have a keener eye on dirt and I have to pick up all hairstands on the bathroom floor (I molt so that’s an endless task), mop my floors and if I’m not satisfied I would go down on all fours and scrub them with my hands. I wiped all edges of detailing, scrubbed an aircon filter, and vacuumed my bed. Scareeee. What’s happening to me? It’s like a switch has been turned on in my brain and now I can’t help doing housework.
A switch called “Growing Old.”

I ate another chocolate from my Advent Calendar and realized it’s 3 days before Christmas. My God, the year went so fast. I still haven’t finished my review for 2005 and it’s almost 2007 already! I write a yearender every year to reflect on the good and not-so-good highlights in my life, and how I can learn from them. But this deserves another blog. Back to the topic, it’s almost Christmas and I don’t feel the spirit yet.
Christmas is not celebrated in China. Which is understandable because a) it is a western culture and b) it is a Christian tradition, both of which China isn’t. So it’s ironic to see all the waiters, salesladies and KTV attendants wearing santa hats. And in China Whispers (our in-depth study on Chinese youth), respondents in five major cities were asked if they will buy a Christmas present for someone, 81% said yes!
So they kinda-sorta “celebrate” Christmas. But knowing its meaning is another story. In Beijing, the kids in my cousin’s Sunday school were asked whose birthday is Christmas day. “SANTA!!!” They all exclaim.
I don’t really blame them. In Chinese, Christmas is Sheng dan jie. Santa Claus is Sheng dan lao ren (Shengdan Old Man). So if you use a little logic, Christmas is to Christ… Shengdan jie is to Santa! You’d end up with Santa’s birthday too, hahaha!
Actually word for word, SHENG means saint or great man, DAN means born, and JIE means celebration. I found this out just now, coz I dissected the words and asked Jeffrey what each separate one meant. All these years we’ve greeting each other Shengdan Kuaile and never knew what it meant:

“A great holy man is born. Let’s rejoice!”

Mahirap pag stressed.

Amazing how three little Filipino words can express so much about female psyche. It usually means, “It’s difficult when you’re stressed” but it also conveys the shopping aftermath: “You get poor when stressed.”
This is a fact. After a really, really lousy shoot in Manila where everything that can go wrong (and everything so simple you can’t even imagine they’ll get it wrong) went wrong, I shopped for two pairs of jeans. My suit also shopped after finding out how therapeutic it was for me.
So this is my excuse for shopping like crazy this week. All in, I probably spent over RMB5000 just for one week. But these are essentials! I bought a portable heater and humidifier and jackets and a kitty-shaped purse with its tail as zipper. Those are essentials, right? And the humidifier has to be shaped like a monkey even though it’s rmb100+ more expensive than the usual. I figured, if I’m going to use it everyday for the next three months and for the succeeding winters, I might as well get something that makes me happy (think Cost Per Puri). I also got a haircut at Toni & Guy but I can only afford a jr. stylist here; then bought two winter jackets which are essential (especially the felt, little-red-riding-hood-turned-glam one… a real must have). Bought a couple of hats, scarves, shirts, that fab & ridiculuously expensive top last tuesday, and boring stuff like a body pillow, towels, moisturizers, trashcan blah blah blah.
It must be caused by working overtime for two weeks including weekends. Or because my radio recording in Singapore was cancelled. (Darn it! I really want those rcs produced, kahit di sa Sing.) Or maybe I do need to buy most of these stuff anyway. But I feel guilty spending so much in a week, and at the back of my mind there’s this feeling of hindsight that I should’ve shipped more things over.
Back in the Phils I wanted to start fresh. And was also trying to limit my shipment to one cubic meter. So I gave or sold dirt cheap most of my stuff including my well-loved knives, pots, well-designed trouser hangers and painted bowls and plates I collected over the years. Eh p*cha ang mahal dito! And not as good or pretty. Then tipid ako ng tipid sa shipping fee by giving myself a self-imposed limit eh ang layo ko pa pala sa totoong limit! At least most of my good wares went to family and friends.
Over the years I also accumulated a lot of junk. That’s why it’s taking me forever now to furnish my apartment. I want everything to be just right. Down to the can opener and kettle.
So RMB, ubusan ng lahi!

Move over, David Guerrero. Keep your darth cap, Ompong. The real Vader is in Weiden and Kennedy.
Seriously, I met this guy named Vader. The music was loud and the conversation sorta went like this, “Hi my name is Vedah” What? “Veiduh” Ha? “Vei-”Okay-okay. The next night Chiewling told me the guy spelled his name as V-a-d-e-r as in Darth Vader’s Vader.
This is taking the whole Chinese-naming-kids-with-funny-English-names to a whole new level. GI (Genuine Instik) love names that end with -son. Benson. Johnson. Anson. Jackson. Jetson. Jerryson. Chinese also love names with a nice ring to it like Kenny Val Ong (my classmate) and Gina Tan (makeup artist). Another trend is naming kids after famous people so you get George Washington Go, George Michael Sy, Jackie Chan… I has a client named Monique Curie and her brother I think is Irving Penn. No stir. And it’s not really because their parents paid homage to the discoverer of pollonium & radium, nor are they fans of photography. When they were born her father would open an encyclopedia and whatever name he saw he named the baby after. (Good thing he never got volume H or somebody could’ve been named Hilter.) Christopher Columbus Tan… Kenneth Cole Po… sometimes they get creative like Michael Jacks Ong.

It’s one thing to be given bad names by your parents. Another thing if you chose it yourself. “I want something strong, dark and mysterious. Hmmm… Vader.” He had a black earpiece attached to his head all the time while we were dancing, drinking so Chiewy and I had a theory that when he presses a button it will expand into a full-blown helmet. tan tan tan tantatan tantatan…
I hope he never sees this blog. He’s quite nice actually (hehe biglang bawi). The WK people we met are nice. They also have weird names. Another was named Wythe. And our CEO who came from WK Tokyo is named Arto Hampartsoumian. But he is Armenian. Vader is not from the Death Star.

Last tuesday night after pitch #1, I got an email that my Singapore project this weekend won’t push through. I was so frustrated. I had my mind set on Sing already and be warmed by the sun again. Plus I really like the radio scripts I slaved over for the last 3 weeks. It was one of my first projects in BBH, a Tagalog rc. Even the set up is interesting: I went all the way to Shanghai to do an Asiapac project for Singapore to be aired in the Philippines. What economic sense! ahahaha. Originally they were just looking for a translator but when they discovered I’m a writer they just told me to do my thing. I really liked the scripts I wrote and believe it would’ve made an impact in the local scene. I would stay up late in the office looking for the right voice pegs, initiating prod stuff not asked of me because I want to produce it well. Then last Tuesday client decided to put budgets elsewhere. WHATTTT??! It only takes USD1400-2000 to produce a spot in Manila and USD100 to air one. To put things in perspective, the production cost and whole media monies for the radio campaign would cost about three 30sec TVspot on primetime. Three bathroom breaks for a whole radio campaign! I hope clients will reconsider, and produce it in Manila rather than expensive Sing.
I was so pissed I had to eat a fabulous dinner. Good food never fails to lift my mood. Anna suggested we go shopping instead. Not a bad idea as well! Hmmm… eat food, be happy and fat? or shop for clothes, be happy and look good plus stay not so fat? Hmmm… we decided to do both.
Chiewy brought us to a local designer’s boutique called Even Penniless. The designs are fabulous! One shirt can be worn in at least two ways. But after looking at the price tag we realized why it was named as such. You’d go penniless after shopping here. There is a red and gray shirt that has my name on it. It’s just so me! After trying it on 3 times I decided to buy it. But it was soooo painful. It costs RMB 1103 after discount. That’s my most expensive buy to date. I have to use my Cost Per Puti logic.
Cost Per Puri (or Cost Per Praise) is a term I coined for my infalliable logic when shopping for clothes. Here’s how it works: You divide the cost by the number of praises you got. For example, everytime someone asks if you lost weight or say “blooming ka ah” or hits on you etc, the cost of the dress halves. So a dress that costs PHP5000 that got noticed 20 times has a CCP of only PHP250. A 600 peso dress that got you nothing still costs P600. So it turns out more expensive than the P5000 one. Makes sense right?
Same thing when buying shoes for weddings. Some women just buy the cheapest silver shoes because you wear it once anyway. But see, if you buy something nicer, then you can wear it again and again with your outfits. So it has more value than the ugly shoes that just takes space in your closet. One of my fave designers Kate Torralba laughed when she heard about my Cost Per Puri.
To bring down the cost of the shirt, I tried to make as many combinations as I can, so it would seem I bought ten shirts instead of one. So far I only got to four interesting shapes But I guess that’s good enough because the designer only designed it for two.

Next time you’re torn between something cheap ‘n cheerful and something gorgeous but costs a bit sinful, remember… Cost Per Puti.

This morning I was rushing to work coz we had a pitch. Murphy’s law, my deadbolt got broken. I GOT LOCKED IN! My main door has two deadbolts, one that can be opened from the outside and one that can be opened only from the inside. The inside bolt was the one that broke. I was trapped.
At first I thought it must have frozen so I got the stream iron to heat it up. No success. I called our office manager, who turned out to be on leave and adviced me to call my agent. The agent texted me that the landlord was at work and I should call the bldg’s management. THAT”S WHY I CALLED YOU ID#@T! HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO TALK TO THEM IN MANDARIN? I called her again but her phone’s busy. My limited mandarin also didn’t get me far with the landlord. I so wanted to cry. And I would if the whole thing wasn’t so darn hilarious. It was so surreal I was waiting for the “You’re on Candid Camera!” It never happened so I started imagining that if the house was on fire, I’d be dead by now. Being morbid, the newsclip of Joe de Venecia’s daughter (who was trapped in their burning house) kept replaying on my mind.
Then I called Chiewy. She’s such an angel. She called up management, dealt with the locksmith and called my landlord. The locksmith said he may have to take down the door because there is no way to pick the inner lock from the outside. While waiting for everyone to arrive I got my papa’s swissknife (that I had to kulit him for half a year) and started unscrewing the lock plate. Then I heard the handle and cover on the outside fall. OOPS! I thought I made things worse but actually it was serendipitous because now that the coverplate fell, the locksmith can pick the lock from the outside!!! No need to break my door. But still it took him a long time to get me out coz the deadlock is really broken.
Then the landlord asked me to pay for the lock and the service! BAKEEEET?! The agent said the landlord said I may have broken it. How can I break a lock? You turn it to lock and unlock. And I’ve only been in the apartment for less than 2weeks. It should’ve been fixed before I moved in!! But after some discussion I agreed to share the cost just to get it over with coz it’s past lunchtime already and I can visualize my deadlines piling up. I am the sole (official) english copywriter and pitch is in English.

I had the rest of my doors checked coz all locks except the CR are stuck as well. They all need to be changed but landlord told me not to use the lock instead. Only the main door is important. But…But… what if a gang of thieves run after me and broke down my front door? Then I can’t lock myself in the room! Or what if ninjas come in from the glass sliding door instead of the main door? Ha? Ha? (well I guess if ninjas attack me a puny lock won’t really protect me, but you get the point.)
Anyway, back to the swissknife, super swerte that I had it with me. It’s a perfect example of St. Therese’s Prayer circulating in the net, “Be at peace knowing that you are exactly where you’re supposed to be.” The swissknife come in a set of two, a gift my dad got last Christmas. I saw it while cleaning kalat and since papa have no use for it, I asked if I can have it. Papa being papa, he only gave me one piece– the less useful one. Because he might need the other one. I said “Papa, you have another swiss knife exactly like this but a diff brand. Which you also don’t use. And you have lots of real screwdrivers etc while I have none and really need this!” He said, “You can have the case too.” Even mama found it weird, I got a case for 2 swissknives but it contains only one. Fasttrack to october, I packed all my stuff to be shipped over and went home to Bacolod. I saw the swissknife at the exact place I left it, untouched. So I asked him for it again, this time with more leverage, “Can I bring it to China?” in my most Puss-in-Boots-kawawa face. He gave in so that’s why I had a swissknife with me today and not in two weeks time when my shipment is due to arrive. And why the locksmith didn’t have to blow the damn door to pieces.
So if you don’t get your way, just believe, God has a good reason why.

Then make kulit again. and again. Until you get your way. hehe.

My memorybank is overdrawn. I can speak Mandarin in passable diction but five minutes later I forget it. Our teacher teaches a lot of words but only Anna seems to retain them, Pete and I are just useless. Then two weeks ago I cracked the code. I found a way to remember.
Leelee, Jeffrey, Chiewy and I went to a Cha Can Ting (restaurant), I stayed outside and stared at the signage for the longest time (it was freezing so give me points). When I got in I wrote down the Chinese characters and the pinyin on a paper napkin again and again. They were impressed. They started explaining what each individual words meant, like Cha(3rd tone) means tea, Can (read as tsan) has something to do with resto, and Ting is a small shop. Then I asked, what about Fan Dian, doesn’t it mean restaurant too? Apparently the latter is more like a general term for resto, Fan as in food/rice and Dian as in shop. So I started putting logic to things. Fan (4th tone) is always food related. Chi Fan means eat food. Zu Fan means cook food. Mi fan means rice.
I get confused with pinyin because one spelling can mean a lot of things. Like jiao (1st tone) means teach and jiao(4) means call. But there is just one pronounciation per character, plus it gives a lot more clues. The character for Ming is a combi of sun and moon so it means bright. If you’re bright you’re called Zhong Ming. And if you’re bright you can easily understand (Ming Bai).
The character for a peace of mind/safe is a roof over a woman. Garage has car inside a roof. And the left side of the character always tell you what the thing is made of or related to, such as a tree, cloth, water, fire, leather etc. It’s so cool! Figuring them out is like Sudoku, where you use logic and process of elimination to find out the answer. Then one answer leads to the other. I learned to read and write words like meeting and restaurant table on my own just by connecting the dots!
It feels good! I feel smart! But of course I don’t remember aaaall of them. But I remember more. My teacher now writes the characters along with pinyin coz even Pete, a pure-bred Englishman, can shockingly write them! Amazing! He can write characters he sees! (he calls them drawings.) When Anna comes back, she’ll be in the shock of her life. We totally changed the teaching method. Normally in language schools they teach you pinyin first then words much, much later because apparently it confuses many students. Sort of an info overload.
I guess we’re a Zhong Ming bunch. After all, we are in BBH.