Sampling the moblogging

I’m typing this out on the WordPress app on my iPhone to roadtest mobile blogging. I haven’t blogged in months (or is it nearly a year?) and I’m hoping that mobile blogging will help me get my blogging mojo back.

What prevented me from giving this a try before is the thought of typing long form on my phone. I’m naturally suspicious of gadgets that multi-task. I’m kinda old school that way. I like to use my phone strictly as a phone.

Then when I got an iPhone I started spending more browsing time on it, eventually getting past my initial apprehension over the small screen. Then I downloaded iBooks and I’m soon reading some of my ebooks on my phone, again getting over my dislike of the small screen. And now, well, I’m typing this blog post on my iPhone. So far, it’s not as bad as I thought. The autocorrect feature makes up for the small keys. But time will tell if blogging on the go is something I’d like to do permanently or maybe limit it to short posts only. I have yet to figure out how to insert photos, formatting and such.


Oh ok there you go. Wow that was pretty easy. That photo was on my phone and it worked as slickly and easy as the WordPress dashboard on a desktop. Cool. You can even preview the posts as well before publishing it, just lie on the desktop! I adore you WordPress. As much as I adore Tom Hiddleston, and that says a lot.

Yes, we have it all

I’m smack in the middle of work stuff right now (I think I’ve been smack in the middle of loads of office stuff for years now so nothing new there) but I just must/need to blog about this one.

There’s this amazing German who came over to the Philippines and fell in love with my country that he stayed here for 3 months.

When I followed the link going to his blog post from Facebook (don’t ask me why I’m even on Facebook when I’m supposed to be finishing a report and like a hundred other tasks), I knew right away it was a bad idea. Here I am, sitting in my air-conditioned office, surrounded by glass walls, the sharp ringing of the phone jarring the silence once in a while, and then these stunning photos started loading up onscreen – swaying coconut trees, lagoons sparkling like jewels, endless stretches of beaches that seem to kiss fabulous blue skies, grinning faces of people who look like they don’t have a care in the world… I want to weep. So near yet so far.

How can this guy from a country million miles away been through all these places here in the Philippines?  He stayed here for 3 months, and he’s been to about about 22 spots in the Philippines. Twenty two. In 3 months. And here I am, a native, and I haven’t even been to more than half of those places!

Reading his post, I felt so proud to be Pinoy, and at the same time ashamed that I remain a foreigner in my own country. His post makes me want to quit my job right now, pack a bag, and head off to the sunset.  Brown myself under swaying coconut trees, read a paperback in a swaying hammock, get lost somewhere, conquer a mountain and scream up to a vast sky, dive underwater to kiss the fishes, and kiss a total stranger. (That last one is actually in  my bucket list. I have a crazy bucket list, one that I can never share online for fear that my family will disown me. Well, more like my parents will skin me alive first, before disowning me.)

I keep dreaming of going to other countries, and yet right in my backyard are some of the most amazing places that captivated the hearts of foreigners. The Philippine Department of Tourism has been urging Filipinos to explore their own country. Huwag maging dayuhan sa sarili mong bayan. Don’t be a foreigner in your own country. When am I ever going to follow that advice?

Anyway, I can’t post Philipp’s photos here for obvious reasons, so you’ll have to follow this link to go to his blog. Prepare to drool. No, not over his six-pack abs, silly. But prepare to be blinded by the amazingness that is the Philippines from his photos. You’ll want to go pack those bags, too.

I’m actually keeping his blog post perpetually open on one of my browser tabs as a sort of motivation. Something to tide me over until I work up enough guts (and save up enough dough) to drop everything and hie off to the sunset.

To give you a context on what I’m ranting about here, this is my view as I type this:


Now go open Philipp’s blog post and you’ll understand why I feel like weeping. Shame on you, Philipp. Shame on you. And thank you so much. We need more tourists like you!

Of apologies

US Pres. Barack Obama wrote an apology to an art history professor for his “off-the-cuff” remarks about skilled manufacturing being a better career choice than art history. It takes class and guts for a President, or anyone for that matter I guess, to apologize, much less take the time to actually write it down when he could easily have sent an email or issued a formal statement to convey his apologies.

Another president I know is hounded by an issue over apologies involving a deadly hostage-taking. However, this apology is more complicated and monumental than saying sorry to an art professor. Relations between two countries is at stake. The reason for the apology withheld is that it will result to legal implications.

I know how hard it is to say sorry. I started out this year by apologizing to one of my clients for whom I was organizing a press event. It was my first presser for this year, and I messed it up by misreading the dates. Nothing like a major blunder to give one a painful reality bite. It was hard admitting that I made a mistake. It was my first blunder since I started managing our center in Cebu. I’m good at my job, but when I make mistakes, they’re epic. It’s like my blunders make up for all the times I’ve delivered the goods.

But apologize I did. Then I worked my arse off to remedy the error in whatever way I can, even if it was too late. For days after, I beat myself up over that faux pas, mentally banging my head on the wall for being such an idiot.

Humility is always a bitter pill to swallow, isn’t it? Apologies force us to see our flaws, making them stand out in stark relief.  Sure, we see the flaws, we just don’t want to linger on them too long.

When someone wrongs us, we expect them to grovel and ask for forgiveness. Okay, not grovel, just asking for forgiveness is enough. (Although some errors do require groveling.) Easier said than done, though, when you’re the offending party.

I admit that I can think of some people I’ve wronged that I have yet to apologize to. Mostly these people aren’t aware that I’ve done something to be sorry to them for.  You’d probably be thinking that they’re better off not knowing, but the thing is, I know. And I have to go to bed at night knowing. I can’t live with that, which is why saying sorry to them is in my bucket list already. I have to pep talk myself to doing this first, along with a shot or two for courage. I can think of a lot of things I’d rather be facing, like an enraged bull or jumping out of an airplane (now that would make one awesome bucket list to-do).

I’ll probably end up writing them a letter the Obama way. I have beautiful penmanship. That should help sweeten the deal.

“To see the world, things dangerous to come to, to see behind walls, draw closer, to find each other, and to feel.”

Life Magazine motto (via Walter Mitty)