What’s the deal?

I can’t understand all this hulabaloo about the death of Ted Failon’s wife. Why do they wanna push it?

As stated in news reports by friends of the deceased wife, the latter has already been spreading around hints that she intends to do away with her own life. In fact, in their own words, it wasn’t actually hints but outright declaration of her suicide. Apparently, she has manifested that she would only wait for the graduation of her youngest daughter and then off herself. What other proof would you want?

It would have been different if Ted Failon’s wife did not even drop a word about having problems or wanting to leave this god-forsaken-earth and then, out of the blue, she suddenly dies in an alleged suicide. That, coupled with the other allegedly suspicious acts done after the killing, would have justified rousing suspicions of a foul play.

On the newspaper yesterday, the secretary of the Department of Justice supposedly received a text message that there was another guy in the house of Ted Failon who helped the latter carry the body of the wife from the bedroom to the bathroom where she was later on killed. I mean, honestly, for a lawyer who’s occupying one of the top spots in the government, this text shouldn’t have been really a matter worth investigating.

I mean, for crying out loud, if Ted Failon really wanted to kill his wife, why couldn’t he have done it inside the bedroom? Why did he have to move her in the bathroom? Was he afraid of soiling the bedsheets? I’m sure he wasn’t thinking of sleeping in their matrimonial bed on the night that his wife has died. Any blundering idiot would have seen that text message for what it was: just another stupid and senseless ploy! I mean, really!?!

Since the news broke out about the death of Failon’s wife, the whole office has just been occupied with rumors and debates about the entire thing. That’s hours upon hours wasted arguing whether or not Ted Failon killed his own wife. Initially, I joined in the argument, stating my case — which involved only the obvious, without the need to delve into speculations bereft of factual basis. By the end of the second hour, I was tired. It was pointless, after all. I mean, even assuming for the sake of argument that he indeed shot his wife, who’s going to testify against him? There’s no evidence at all pointing towards him. No witnesses stating they saw him do it. What now?

In the words of Bart Simpson: “I didn’t do it. Nobody saw me do it.”

Why don’t we move on to other better things? With every second we breathe, the mother earth is deteriorating. Let’s put each second to good use.

 

Making fools of ourselves…

What is it about babies? They can make even the most accomplished or perhaps even those feared act foolish for the sake of making them smile?

Based on what I’ve heard, I think it would be safe to say that my students from the law school have a healthy dose of fear for me. In the office, the staff likewise respect me enough to abide by my instructions. To tell the truth, I kind of like the sort of intimidation the people somehow feel around me. It’s an edge. In fact, I try and maintain such a reputation by making sure I act in accordance with my present stature. And yet, last Sunday, I was making a fool of myself in full view of the public — in the hopes of making a baby smile.

A one-year old nephew is currently staying with us. He’s such a cute little baby. And when he laughs, it could be the sound of angels. While we were in church and in an attempt to entertain him and distract him from further exploring the entire church premises, I made funny faces in full view of the public. In my mind, I was worried that somebody I know would happen to walk by and see me in all my foolishness. Yet, that thought did not really stop me from what I was doing.

Then, my nephew moved on to slapping us in the face. He’s even kicked my husband on the head. And yet, nobody’s gotten mad. In fact, everyone here thinks it’s all funny. I couldn’t help wondering, if this were some other person doing this silly stuff, somebody would have gotten mad. Hah! I suppose that’s payback…for what, I don’t really know. There’s just something really humbling about taking care of a baby. It doesn’t matter if one’s a successful lawyer or a feared professor, babies only care that they are fed, taken care of and given all the attention in the world. In that, I think there’s still some justice in this world.

 

Sometimes, you just don’t know.

Busy, busy, stressfuuuul freaking day at work. Grrr!

It was only when I got to work this morning that I realized a proceeding was due in court, where I would have to take an active part. As a lawyer, it’s supposed to be just another day. But not when you don’t know what the hell is going to happen. It’s like being in first year law school all over again and you don’t know how the system works. What’s worse is that it feels like I’m the only newbie in the group. Everybody’s been doing it for a long time, it’s almost as natural as breathing. Meanwhile, I’m kicking and flailing just trying not to sink in the water. Aarggh! Sometimes, I really don’t know if I’ve made the right choice. Sometimes, I can’t help but wonder if I would have been better off as a call center agent… These are the kind of days that I ask myself if I’m really qualified for the job.

I can’t help but compare myself to this other lawyer I met this morning. She was dressed smartly, talked with a serious air and went on about her way as if she couldn’t be bothered for small talk but could only spare a smile. She was genial but she had the air of a total career woman. She was the kind of lawyer I’d like to aspire for. In fact, she’s not much older than me but she seems matured in all her ways. I, on the other hand, still laugh at stupid silly things, like when the cat outside tries to wrestle with its mother. I find it amusing, whereas she, I’m sure, wouldn’t have probably bothered to observe it. I wish I were that kind of lawyer. She looked like she knew everything she was doing and that everything she does is calculated with only the end in view.

Meanwhile, I feel like Bridget Jones or Rebecca Bloomwood. It’s like I’m faking knowledge of everything. Everytime, I keep wondering if it’s the day somebody will uncover the fraud that I am. Whether it was that smile I gave or the gestures I made, I would think it was a sure tell-tale sign of my stupidity.

To be honest, I don’t feel much different from when I was in high school. Aaargh!

 

Office Politics and other injustices

Ever since I’ve attained the age of majority, I’ve only had the chance to work in three offices, including the present one. And of the three, I can state with certainty that my favorite was the second one.

For one thing, my boss then was respectable beyond any doubt. In fact, in the almost two years that I’ve been part of his staff, I’ve never had any reason to doubt him or his credibility. To this date, he is still the one I look up to, the one I aspire to be someday (not to be a man, of course, but to attain what he has). I think I can fairly say that he is the embodiment of fairness and justice. Of course, it is the very requisite for the job. But you would be surprised to know that others holding the same position as him do not necessarily enjoy the same qualifications.

In addition, I found that majority of his staff were likewise wonderful people. They were genuine — and that’s the best characteristic a person can have, as far as I’m concerned (and as far as I think). There were no petty squabbles or stupid cat fights, every issue was resolved using the light of reason.

By far, I think there is no other job or, perhaps, workplace that can quite compare to that one. Well, I suppose we only get lucky once. I had to move on.

In so far as my present occupation/workplace is concerned, I think the phrase “not a bed of roses” would be applicable. It has been riddled with drama since I started, I suppose. It’s got comedy, mystery, romance (or something similar), suspense and some action. Lately, it’s been turning into a CIA/James Bond story filled with agents and double agents. You turn around and you don’t really know who to trust.

If there’s one thing I really dislike in the office arena, it’s distrust – or the inability to know who to trust. It feels like you’re walking on eggshells or something similar. You always have to be careful around the people, whether with what to say or do. And you never know whether what they say to your face is the truth or just a version of what they think you want to hear. I, on the other hand, would always prefer to hear the truth. It doesn’t need to be brutally honest, just the plain truth, no salt nor sugar added.

An example:

Since December last year, the office has been looking for somebody to fill in a vacancy. I’ve recommended people I think are qualified (over qualified, in fact). But at the last minute or just when they’ve gotten the nod from the main boss, they decide they want something else. Who can blame them, really? The salary isn’t really something to die for.

So anyway, just when it seems there is no one else left, one staff member recommends a young guy who’s apparently in dire need of a job to help sustain his studies. I know the guy and, to be honest, he isn’t really on top of my “highly recommended” list. But his circumstances, i.e., willing to work hard to earn some dough to support his further aspirations, easily make him on the top of the other applicants. That is, of course, in addition to the fact that I know him and he knows me (i.e., he’s had a healthy dose of fear of me, which makes him easier to handle). Plus, the staff member who recommended him gives him glowing commendations.

That was last December 2008, before I left for my Christmas vacation.

Surprise, surprise! When I returned to work after the holidays, the birds (well, actually, just one bird — the one who recommended the guy) were singing a new song.

Apparently, the young guy turned out to be a distant relative of somebody the bird strongly disliked. And for this reason, he was no longer highly commendable, as far as the bird is concerned. If that is not the height of injustice, then perhaps, what the bird did next would qualify.

The young guy frequently comes to the office for one reason or another. And everytime he’s there, it’s as if he and the bird are the best of friends, the latter wishing him good luck and telling him she hopes he’ll get the job. But everytime he goes away, she’s actually rooting for another. Hypocrisy — if it could only kill people, there would be a lot less of the population.

In fact, the reason why the young guy was not accepted by the main boss is due to the underhanded trick the bird did — just to make sure he doesn’t get it. The sole reason? Because he is related to some person the bird hates.

I get that in real life, there’s really no black and white. It’s not like a person is totally good or totally bad, as in the movies. You can’t categorize people as villain or hero. That would probably make life insufferable, or something. But I do hope the world is rid of hypocrites.

Sometimes, I think my life is boring. And then sometimes, I think there’s too much drama. At least, that’s how it feels like in the office.

 

The trouble with life is that there’s no background music.

That’s exactly what was written on a cubicle door of a comfort room at the airport. It wasn’t in somebody’s filthy handwriting. It was designed, printed and framed.

So, if I could pick a song that ought to be playing right now, I’d probably choose Hadji Alejandro’s “Nakapagtataka.” Hah! That’s only because the first line is so fitting: “Walang tigil ang ulan…” which is totally true. It has been raining in this side of the archipelago for FIVE straight days now! In fact, the flights destined for this sleepy town has been repeatedly cancelled since Sunday. I suppose it was utter good luck that my husband’s flight came through yesterday. Otherwise, he would have gone on a longer route. It better stop raining by Saturday because that’s his flight back here. I need to have my personal “Edward Cullen” back in my arms. Ugh! I’m beginning to get as sappy as the weather!

If there is something good to be said about the weather, though, I suppose I could make a pitch for the alleged local production of  Twilight, i.e. Takip Silim. I mean, this is the only place where it rains even during summer! Although, it’s not really the entire day. Usually in the afternoon it rains. But in the morning, argh! The sun shines really, really, really hot. And I mean scorching hot! A bottle of sunblock ought to be enough to protect the skin when you go out to get the mail. Well, I might be exaggerating a little. But you get the point.

I should be thankful that the big boss is on leave until Friday – hopefully until the entrire next week. I am particularly thankful that he’s away today, especially after how the day started. I had already driven the car away when I’d realized that the front right tire was flat. Crappy morning, really. The rain was pouring while I was out standing beside my flat tire, cussing and wondering what I’d done wrong to have this happen to me on a rainy day and I’m running late for work. Not to mention that I’d gotten my feet wet while I went on unofficial errands. Let me tell you, it wasn’t such a pleasant experience on a work day.

But to every dark cloud, there must be a silver lining, right? Well, here come’s that part. At lunch time, the staff had nothing better to do, work’s been done, the boss is out, what else is there but to… watch  Twilight. (Aargh! Not this again!) And despite myself, I couldn’t help but join them.

Right now, I’m just about tired of myself talking/writing about Twilight. And yet, I can’t help myself! I really, really don’t know why. It’s becoming annoying, actually. Maybe with every time that I see the movie, I’m hoping that Rob Pattinson would be better at playing his role. But I get disappointed everytime, so much so that by the time it’s revealed that he’s actually a vampire, I get bored and do something else. I’d admit that sometimes, I have a short attention span. But I’ve read the Twilight Saga twice and, except perhaps for the middle part of Breaking Dawn, I hadn’t gotten bored with it.

So, instead of finishing the movie, I just went and played mind-numbing time-management games to occupy my time while the heavens poured down with all its might. As the day progressed, I’ve forgotten about my crappy morning and found myself liking the rain.

Now, I feel like singing: “I’m only happy when it rains. I’m only happy when it’s complicated…”