A team player, Karess readily relinquishes personal interests and goals to accommodate those close to her. She is loyal to a fault; but others may sometimes question her unwavering dedication to current relationships and methods. Karess values security, and usually does her best to avoid sudden changes in her environment or situation (haha).
Karess is a fact finder and does things "by the book" (i have to agree with that). She can be sensitive if others are being critical of her work, especially if they have not carefully reviewed all the data (kaboom). Karess clarifies expectations before undertaking new projects, and she works hard to meet standards (sigurista). Karess will typically maintain a neat and orderly work environment (o rly?).
Karess is an optimistic individual. She is the type of person who loves exploring new places or things and a wide variety of experiences. She tends to display a natural charisma that draws others to her charm. Karess is a very encouraging person; others are drawn to her because they find her inspirational (aaawww).
Because she values relationships, Karess prefers to withdraw from conflict and avoid issues that may be confrontational (ahahahaha!). She may have a tendency to question her own ability to take charge, so she will tend to join in with a team or submit to strong authority. Karess is a "team player", and typically is excellent in a supporting role.
well? what do you guys think?
Friday, May 22, 2009
Saturday, May 9, 2009
Happy Mother's Day y'all
It’s 3:30 in the morning as I type this and I’m thinking of a decent blog to write about Mother’s Day. Forgive my rambleness and randomness, \as I’m still trying my best to get the caffeine off of my system.
My mom taught me a lot of things: reading, fun, prayer, thankfulness…and affection. Mommy, as we fondly called her, was fiercely protective of her young. Kind of like mother elephants towards predators wanting their babies for lunch. I know comparing my mom to an elephant is not the most awesome illustration in the world, but bear with me.
Mommy was supportive of me. She didn’t like the fact that I enrolled myself in a course that did not guarantee big bucks or work stability, but she reveled in the fact that I was enjoying myself, that I loved what I was doing. She would pout whenever I wouldn’t send her the stuff I wrote. She hated the fact that I hid things from her, that I would go my own way.
Quite recently I told my mom about a huge decision that I wanted her to know about. I still wanted to hear what she wanted to say, in spite of the fact that she was a million miles away from me. The decision was so huge, it involved relocation and starting over in a completely new environment.
Instead of the reaction that I actually hoped to receive—a smile, a pat on the back, encouraging words, like of a job well done—I heard admonition amid high pitched tones. Rethink my decision, she said, in her signature sosyal bungangera way of saying things.
After a few moments of silence after hanging up, I realized that she made much sense. Here I was, in a job I liked, in a work shift I’d been desperately wishing for, in a house I just moved in to, and barely starting over. Barely getting the “responsibility” bit. Barely gotten on my two feet.
I finally got it after twenty-three years of existing. She wanted the best for me. Still does, and always will. I guess that’s how all moms are like. My mother was definitely not perfect, nor did she claim to be, but the greatest thing she ever…I honestly don’t know how to put it. I can only say that the greatest thing ever about her is this: she wanted the best for me and my sisters. Even if we screwed up and made mistakes, she still loved us unconditionally.
=================
Another mother I’d like to honor is the matriarch of the household that I currently live in. “Titaaaaaaa,” as I fondly call her, is someone I consider a surrogate mother of sorts, having mentioned earlier that my actual female parent is a million miles away.
I hardly know her—I’ve just lived here for three months—and at the same time I feel like I’ve known her for a long time. She, like my real mom, is fiercely protective of her five children. She was tough and knew her way around. In other words, she knew how to make diskarte. She was self-assured and possessed the wisdom that you don’t really hear anywhere else.
Truth be told, I have an affection for her that I really can’t explain in words, because they really won’t suffice. One thing I can say is this: she isn’t mushy, but she knew love. She knew and understood it, and gave much of it. Not in the typical, but then again, Tita Paz is not typical in so many ways.
My mom taught me a lot of things: reading, fun, prayer, thankfulness…and affection. Mommy, as we fondly called her, was fiercely protective of her young. Kind of like mother elephants towards predators wanting their babies for lunch. I know comparing my mom to an elephant is not the most awesome illustration in the world, but bear with me.
Mommy was supportive of me. She didn’t like the fact that I enrolled myself in a course that did not guarantee big bucks or work stability, but she reveled in the fact that I was enjoying myself, that I loved what I was doing. She would pout whenever I wouldn’t send her the stuff I wrote. She hated the fact that I hid things from her, that I would go my own way.
Quite recently I told my mom about a huge decision that I wanted her to know about. I still wanted to hear what she wanted to say, in spite of the fact that she was a million miles away from me. The decision was so huge, it involved relocation and starting over in a completely new environment.
Instead of the reaction that I actually hoped to receive—a smile, a pat on the back, encouraging words, like of a job well done—I heard admonition amid high pitched tones. Rethink my decision, she said, in her signature sosyal bungangera way of saying things.
After a few moments of silence after hanging up, I realized that she made much sense. Here I was, in a job I liked, in a work shift I’d been desperately wishing for, in a house I just moved in to, and barely starting over. Barely getting the “responsibility” bit. Barely gotten on my two feet.
I finally got it after twenty-three years of existing. She wanted the best for me. Still does, and always will. I guess that’s how all moms are like. My mother was definitely not perfect, nor did she claim to be, but the greatest thing she ever…I honestly don’t know how to put it. I can only say that the greatest thing ever about her is this: she wanted the best for me and my sisters. Even if we screwed up and made mistakes, she still loved us unconditionally.
=================
Another mother I’d like to honor is the matriarch of the household that I currently live in. “Titaaaaaaa,” as I fondly call her, is someone I consider a surrogate mother of sorts, having mentioned earlier that my actual female parent is a million miles away.
I hardly know her—I’ve just lived here for three months—and at the same time I feel like I’ve known her for a long time. She, like my real mom, is fiercely protective of her five children. She was tough and knew her way around. In other words, she knew how to make diskarte. She was self-assured and possessed the wisdom that you don’t really hear anywhere else.
Truth be told, I have an affection for her that I really can’t explain in words, because they really won’t suffice. One thing I can say is this: she isn’t mushy, but she knew love. She knew and understood it, and gave much of it. Not in the typical, but then again, Tita Paz is not typical in so many ways.
Friday, May 8, 2009
feelings are nothing more than feelings!!!
being an “artist” is not an excuse to slack off!
inspiration is not enough! inspiration will not feed me, or pay my bills, or let a roof stay on top of my head!
feelings are nothing more than feelings, ladies and gentlemen.
enough with the excuses already!
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