I went 3 days without the internet. Not that I did it on purpose. It's the crappy service I get from my ISP.
I just saw myself reacting poorly to the situation by getting agitated by, excuse my word, inutile customer service representatives who cannot help solve internet problems brought about by my ISP's poor quality service.
But then I realized I may have lost my internet connection, but I gained something. TIME. A lot of it. I gained a few extra hours a day. Not to mention, I've added a few more hours of sleep which internet has robbed me off since forever. But that doesn't mean I won't lash out for the frustration of not having a decent internet connection. I didn't pay hard-earned money for crap.
I just saw myself reacting poorly to the situation by getting agitated by, excuse my word, inutile customer service representatives who cannot help solve internet problems brought about by my ISP's poor quality service.
But then I realized I may have lost my internet connection, but I gained something. TIME. A lot of it. I gained a few extra hours a day. Not to mention, I've added a few more hours of sleep which internet has robbed me off since forever. But that doesn't mean I won't lash out for the frustration of not having a decent internet connection. I didn't pay hard-earned money for crap.
So for three days without the internet, I was far more productive. I finished my tasks gracefully ahead of time and I've got spare time for a hobby or two. I felt good about myself. And even better to have miraculously survived three days without internet. Yay! So aside from exercising, breathing fresh air, and catching a glimpse of the sunshine... for the past three days:
1. I drew something. If it wasn't for Facebook, I wouldn't realize adult coloring books are a trend. They said it's a good way to relax and de-stress. Pero mas lalo ata akong nastress sa presyo ng isang coloring book. So I figured I just have to make do of whatever I have: a pen and paper.
1. I drew something. If it wasn't for Facebook, I wouldn't realize adult coloring books are a trend. They said it's a good way to relax and de-stress. Pero mas lalo ata akong nastress sa presyo ng isang coloring book. So I figured I just have to make do of whatever I have: a pen and paper.
This is an old, old idea.
Unoriginal.
But I cannot think of a better way to fuse my love for writing and drawing than to create blog posts devoted to both. Hence, the GuLat Project. Gulat is a Filipino word that means shock or surprise. But I've also coined this from two words, Guhit (draw) and Sulat (write) - which are apparently the things that I absolutely love to do.
As you can see, I've been including doodles in my entries lately and this is what I plan to do on my succeeding posts. I got this idea from Doodlemum - a blog that I've been following for a long time. What separates her art from mine is that her doodles are waaaaaay amazing while mine are just mere stick figures you wouldn't have to second guess if they were drawn by a five-year-old. But, oh well.
Unoriginal.
But I cannot think of a better way to fuse my love for writing and drawing than to create blog posts devoted to both. Hence, the GuLat Project. Gulat is a Filipino word that means shock or surprise. But I've also coined this from two words, Guhit (draw) and Sulat (write) - which are apparently the things that I absolutely love to do.
As you can see, I've been including doodles in my entries lately and this is what I plan to do on my succeeding posts. I got this idea from Doodlemum - a blog that I've been following for a long time. What separates her art from mine is that her doodles are waaaaaay amazing while mine are just mere stick figures you wouldn't have to second guess if they were drawn by a five-year-old. But, oh well.
I love to write but I never really wanted to be a writer. Not that I consider myself to be one. As a matter of fact, I didn't like my English classes back in high school and college. I have even failed English (literature) once. My lack of interest in the English Language and Literature, however, unexpectedly warranted me to end up writing stuff for a living.
Well, that's what I did a long time ago and I tried to do the same thing recently. I was under the impression that I can make writing pay the bills again. Before I glued my butt to the swivel chair to write a 1000-word essay, I was so pumped up by the mere fact that I really do love writing. I can write more than a thousand word blog post in an hour or so.
This should be easy.
I have always been fascinated with people - guys for that matter - who play guitar. And I've always wanted to be the one who can play the guitar. I wanted to be a badass guitarist. You know. The one who plays with the band that lives and breathes beautiful music. That chic worshipped by rocker boys who got blown away by her jaw-dropping solo.
Back when guitarists were labeled "cool" and the one who'd always get the attention (and by guitarist, I mean anyone who can carry a tune with the instrument), I was pretty excited when one of my friends in high school taught me how to play the guitar. I grabbed the neck, laid it close to my chest, hugged the body, and made love with it. It was a beautiful moment. I told myself I'm going to be a budding female version of Slash sans the top hat. (I only know Slash because of Sweet Child O' Mine. Other than that... No, I won't pretend that I really know him. But yes, I wanted to have mad skills like Slash.)