i have never been an ardent journal writer. i would keep a diary for weeks, or months, and then, suddenly, laziness would set in. either that or life would go too fast for me to document it in whatever pretty notebook i happened to be writing in.

i remember having a journal when i was in grade school and reading it afterwards (when i was in high school) made me cringe. it was torture having to go through the pains of puberty again! the topics were of course juvenile, to say the least, and the writing pathetically crude. (i am my worst critic, believe me.)

i don't recall keeping a journal in high school, except for the one i had to have because it was a course requirement in freshman english. having a journal like that -- where you knew your teacher would read through everything -- pretty much censors the thoughts and things you'd really love to write, but it also polishes your writing skills. besides, high school for me was all about writing anyway. as a member of the school paper's editorial staff since my sophomore year, i had more than my fair share of writing to do. i find, to my chagrin, however, that though my writing skills have improved, my ideas about life were still, well, childish.

in college, i was again fortunate enough to be in the school newspaper's staff and was forced by my editor to go out and write about other people's thoughts and feelings. i had to interview total strangers. i am by no means an outgoing person so it was scary at first but doing so made me a better writer, i think. or at least, it widened my horizon and made me realize how i can write even more entertaining articles when i go out of my own sphere of experience.

the skills and confidence i gained during those long years of writing earned me a post as a scriptwriter for a TV documentary program. i remember my very first foray as a TV reporter (off-cam)/writer. i had to interview the new widow of a bomb technician who became one of the many casualties during the rizal day bombings many years ago. it was an emotional assignment for me, having lost my father when i was in freshman year in high school. luckily, i was able to go past my empathy (it sometimes gets in the way of being impartial) and produce a script that earned the admiration (aherm ) of our director.

i stayed in that job for almost eight years and when blogging became popular some years back, i tried it and though i found it enjoyable, i also found it tiring. with my job as a writer, i knew i had to find another outlet to relax and unwind and thus let this blog slide.

when my husband and i quit our jobs in media (he was a cameraman in the same production outfit i worked for) more than a year ago, we settled in his hometown in negros island and put up a small business that, thankfully, has been growing slowly in popularity.

the itch to write about my experiences here in small town, philippines has broken through once again and here i am.

just last week my husband and i had the privilege of touring the island c/o a project we are doing for the negros island sustainable agriculture rural development foundation and i shall write about that next time.

so enough of the backstory, my stomach is growling for a lunch of pinakbet and steamed rice, possibly with fried porkchop or chicken, whichever is available at our favorite carinderia. will tell you which one later.