TMI syndrome

I was a bit more inhibited when I was younger. I wasn’t the type who’d easily open up to other people; even to the school’s peer counselors and my close relatives. It was hard to get to me… there was a certain level of friendship and trust to establish before I’d be comfortable to share my personal life with anyone.

Back then, I joined social networking sites for fun. The primary reason was just to be there. While some of my friends endeavored to grow their friends list, I used the accounts I created to view other people’s profiles. I wanted to see what they were doing, how they spent their time, who their friends were, and how cool they presented themselves (truthful or not). I wasn’t really concerned with growing my network (I won’t add you if I don’t know you).

It took me a while to be comfortable with the whole social networking thing, but eventually, I opened up and started posting photos, filling up my profile, writing testimonials, and blogging. Of all these, blogging is most effective to me because it’s therapeutic. I get to write about anything, rave or rant. I get to keep my thoughts and be reminded of them. When I read my previous posts, especially those that are years old, I still remember where I was when I wrote them, why I was feeling what I was feeling.

My mom asked me, if it’s something personal, why do I need to keep it online for the world to see? Why not the old school journal? The answer (vs. old school journal) is simple. Typing is much more painless than doing it longhand, and it also doesn’t take up physical space. So mom (if one day you get to read this), I’ll just blog so you wouldn’t have to nag me all the time to throw away stuff and manage the clutter in my room. You know I have a problem with letting go of sentimental stuff, even my Sweet Valley collection.

The increased usage of (or access to) the Internet and the proliferation of social networking sites such as Friendster, MySpace, Multiply, Live Journal, and what not have all contributed to the openness that we’re experiencing today. Increased individualism, they say. These sites encourage us to share our lives, reach out to other people, and look into their lives as well.

The openness in cyber world can sometimes be carried out in actual verbal conversations. At one point, most of us are probably guilty of sharing too much information (TMI). Some people can take their blogs so seriously they’re oversharing already.

Wikipedia defines TMI as "a slang expression indicating that someone has divulged too much personal information and made the listener uncomfortable." This happens to me sometimes when I go drinking with friends, I hear things I don’t want to hear (haha).

On my part, oversharing happens but not in a way that whoever I’m talking to becomes uncomfortable. More often than not, I overshare in a sense that I become too transparent with my thoughts and feelings, allowing people to see right through me. Especially in professional environments, I do recognize that people should be more careful not to overshare so as not to make themselves vulnerable or expose their vulnerability. One time, while reading the papers, I heard someone say, "Crush ko talaga si Kirk Long! Pangalan pa lang, crush ko na siya... Kirk LONG." Tssss... Revealing to much (yea yea!).

There’s an exception to the rule, though: when we’ve established that level of friendship and trust, oversharing could even be healthy.

Crush ko rin si Kirk Long! Haha

Random Photos

Tiffy posted a few photos from elementary and highschool in her multiply site. Haha... brings back the memories! PM recesses, highschool plays and rehearsals (I directed Florante at Laura and Fili - while I was afflicted with hepatitis! they failed to bed rest me), tambay after school, intrams (could've played volleyball or softball but i chose tug-o-war. less jabar, shorter completion time), canteen (that caught fire and was resurrected), spelling bee (and my famous "avalunge" - was asked to spell 'avalanche' e shempre mali yung dinig ko. what's new? tie-breaker pa naman yun), teachers' birthdays, christmas parties, swimming parties, sleepovers, Baguio/Batangas/Tagaytay trips, after school movies, ATC and SM (SM???), Hard Rock/ Fat Tuesday/Cable Car/Pep's nights... the question is: what did we not do?


This photo was taken during Family Day in Nursery. Can you spot me? I'm in the background, rightmost. Aminin niyo na. Cute.

This one was taken during Intramurals in 3rd year highschool. Oh.my.gawd. I look like a dork (na walang poise). As in totally! (Laguna Beach accent, please)

And finally, this last photo doesn't really have anything to do with elementary or highschool. I just took this on the way to work this morning. Wala lang. Jabar. hehe

Saging lang ang may puso!

This will go down as one of the most ridiculous lines ever delivered in a Filipino action movie... Even my 10-year old cousins can do better!

Love-driven leadership

A few months ago, a friend sent this quote to me about leadership just when I was beginning to learn to be one. And I agree with everything the author said. When you become a leader, what you do is not as important as who you are.

A person can grow two ways: horizontally and vertically. Horizontal growth is when you broaden your horizons, meet new people, learn new things and widen your network. Vertical growth is when you advance spiritually and this is where happiness and contentment play a big part. When you learn to appreciate the good things in life, the blessings you have, you tend to move to a higher level of existence. And this vertical growth is further amplified in leaders because when you become a leader, you are exposed to the opportunity to allow others to advance through you. And when they do, you'll feel a sense of satisfaction and fulfillment that transcends all rewards and recognition.

What distinguishes love-driven leaders from tyrants? Great affection coupled with the passion to see others run at full speed towards perfection. Love-driven leadership is not urging others forward without concern for their aspirations, well-being, or personal needs. Nor is it being the nice guy manager who overlooks underperformance that could damage a subordinate's long-term prospects.

Instead, love-driven leaders hunger to see latent potential blossom and to help it happen. In more prosaic terms, how do children, students, athletes, or employees achieve their full potential? When they're parented, taught, coached or managed by those who engender trust, provide support and encouragement, uncover potential, and set high standards.

-Chris Lowney
HEROIC LEADERSHIP
(Best practices from a 450-year old company that changed the world: The Society of Jesus)

And I'm still learning to be one.

caught in the undertow

Sometimes, some people just don't understand. There are certain situations in life where you just have to learn to RESPOND, not REACT.





It's happening all over again, but this, too, shall pass.

I, (no) stupid driver

Just because I’m a woman doesn’t mean I’m a stupid driver. Last Thursday night I was driving home from Gweilos and for the first time ever, I met a car accident. I was nearly completing my turn to the gas station when... bam. Another car bumped us at the rear. The driver was probably going so fast I thought my sister, who was on the passenger’s side, almost broke her neck. The vibration was just too strong, good thing we have quite a sturdy car. He clearly didn’t see me as I was making the turn. And I also admit I didn’t notice him because his headlights were off. It wasn’t so bad. Actually, I just got a dent on the bumper and some scratches on the right tail light. What irked me was the reaction of the man driving the other car. He totally lost it! He got out of his car and shouted curses at me.

I was so shocked (it was the first time that this happened with me behind the wheel). I forgot all the things that my dad had told me to do when I encounter this situation. I wasn’t supposed to move the car from the scene even when there was already a line of stalled cars behind us and park it properly in the gas station. I was supposed to wait for an investigator to arrive and take photos or make a sketch, and I wasn’t supposed to get out of the car and listen to the man, who looked like he was in his late 20s, shouting at me and telling me how foolish I was for taking the turn too soon while he was trying to coerce the gas boys and the security guards into believing that it was my fault. The thought of my parents getting all mad and upset about the whole incident was the least of my worries. I knew they wouldn’t take it against me and that we had a comprehensive insurance. What worried me was that people might actually believe that he was right and I was wrong.

Because I moved the car from where it happened, the man accused me of trying to cover up my mistake; that I didn’t want it to be proven that I was speeding and I cut him. The whole time he was yelling and wailing at how stupid I was (babae kasi) and how hassle it was (his headlight was broken), I couldn’t focus. I couldn’t think about what to do, what to say or how to rebut because: a) I super badly needed to go to the loo for number one, and b) I needed to beat closing time since I need to get stuff from Shopwise to bring to my trip to Boracay the next day. So I just leaned on my car, my back on the left window, stared at the light post until his ramblings became ambient noise, and waited for someone to come and get the details and assess the situation. I kinda zoned out. And on impulse, I ran to the washroom. He must’ve thought I was insane standing there unaffected; not speaking to him or even looking at him and then dashing to the restroom.

I came back calm and collected even though the guy was so furious to the point of profanity. The fact that he had a big body and was really angry didn’t scare me. I just found it so low to even retaliate. I thought the security guards had already called an investigator or the police but apparently, the nearest station was under renovation and the phone lines were busted. So I asked the irate man to calm down and offered to settle. I said we should just take care of having our own cars repaired and spare us both the hassle and inconvenience (magsasarado yung Shopwise!). But he continued cursing and didn’t want to listen to me. He wanted me to give him money for the repair of his old, beaten car (!). Fortunately, my sister had the presence of mind to call my dad who was in a driving range in Filinvest, just some five minutes away from the gas station. In a few minutes, my dad arrived with a couple of his friends. I was so relieved because I knew my dad would handle it for me. He was always the peacemaker. Upon seeing my dad and his friends though, the man seemed to calm down. It’s either he was happy to be finally talking to men and not the stupid girl driver or he was intimidated by my dad and his crew.

My dad took the same line: to have the cars repaired on our own. But the man didn’t agree. At some point, my dad was already willing to pay just to end it but I didn’t allow him. Why should we pay the price of something that wasn’t even my doing? No fucking way. Money wasn’t the issue. Pride was. I needed to hold my ground. Eventually, we saw that it was useless to stay there trying to compromise when the other party was obviously not willing. So we just stopped talking, got in the car and left the man standing there. He didn’t chase us.

And I made it to Shopwise.