My Traffic Life

I am Mae German. 34 years old. Born in Mangatarem, province of Pangasinan. I was taught and trained by Juan Dela Cruz, and I am currently being trained for more by Uncle Sam. Writing since the age of 12. Blogging since 2001. I keep a notebook and a pen in my bag, on my bedside table, and inside the bathroom. Misses a lot. Sometimes even my own voice. Loves to laugh. Sometimes even at myself. I am a work in progress. My ultimate dream is to be a SAHM. That is, if I am bound to have that chance in this lifetime... and I am.

My Traffic Rules

Don't take my words personally. At times, not even literally. This is my journal. You're my reader. My spectator. Applaud. Yawp. Yawn. Smile. Frown. Rave. Rant. Or not. Neither can I see you from where I am standing nor can I hear you.

This is not my life. Maybe just a part of it. But this is me meandering through life. My emotions fluctuate. My opinion varies. If it's too hot in here and you can't take it, leave. If it's dull and too cold, go somewhere else for warmth. I won't wipe the frown on your brow.

My stories, unless stated otherwise, are mostly fictional. Fiction could be based on reality. Still, they are fiction. Don't own it. Don't live in it. It is what it is. Leave it.

Watch out for the traffic light. Follow the rules. Cruise.

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Existentialism. Hazmat. Marginalized. Swag. Diaspora. Predisposed. Words that are inside my head, more heavier than a tankless hot water heater.

My heart is pounding just by the thought of the words that I am going to key-in here. I have to let it out. I am scared. Nervous as hell.

This morning, I have talked to my brother about this. No. Not how I really feel. But this. The real-world scenario.

I might... no, I am leaving for Staten Island soon for some training. How soon? Maybe next week. How long? A week. Maybe two. Dammit! I shall drop the word "maybe" soon.

Have you ever tried taking a MRT-ride (rail transit in Manila) on rush hour? I repeat, rush hour.

You have one goal-- to get inside the car. How to? Oh, don't worry. Just stand right in front of the car (you don't even have to be exactly in front of its door) and wait for the door to open. You'll be surprised, without exerting any effort, you'll get in fast. You just have to watch out for the people who are struggling to come out of the vehicle, they might push you away from your goal-- the door!

Sometimes, we go along our life in that manner. Even if we're not in a hurry (like we never knew it's the rush hour, eh?!). We allow people to shove us toward our goal. But as I said, careful on those who are struggling to come out. People sometimes jostle each other inside an overcrowded train.

I am inside that train now.

Crash course. Job interview 101. These two could give me a nervous breakdown.
Stop calling people "Sir" or "Ma'am". Forget about "po" and "opo". And these, too.

It's going to be my few-week training against a 12-year DELL experience of someone. It's not going to be my ability to work really hard but my ability to sell myself.

Tough world.

I am ready. Am I?

Buy me or California and Utah here I come. I need to break-away sometimes. Just for a few weeks I guess.

Actually, removing the "po" and "opo" is going to be the hardest part of the training. Solution: speak in English!

Okay po.

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