A friend and former colleague in the radio industry posted a question on Facebook that caught my eye a little while ago: "Is blogging still a thing?" It made me smile – after all, blogging is how I pay some of my bills. But more importantly, it reminded me of that moment when I was wondering the same thing. You see, this friend is one of the smartest people I know. He has a wicked sense of humor and a unique worldview. In short, I knew he'd make a fantastic blogger. So, for my smart and funny friend considering the blogging world and anyone else who wonders if it's still relevant, here's my take. What is a blog, anyway? At its core, a blog is an online space where someone shares their thoughts, ideas, knowledge, or experiences. It's like a personal journal but published for the world to see (if you choose!). People blog for tons of reasons: Creative outlet: Blogging provides a platform for self-expression and sharing passions. Community building: A blog can f

My relationship with my phone is getting out of hand. Every buzz, every alert, every ding – it's like a little jolt of happiness floods my brain. That's the thing about dopamine, our body's personal pleasure chemical. It's great when you're doing things that keep you alive, but those endless scrolling sessions on social media? Yeah, not so much in the grand survival scheme. Here's how I figured out I've got a bit of a digital dopamine addiction problem and what I'm doing about it. Understanding Dopamine Addiction Turns out, those likes, comments, and endless content streams are like little digital cocaine hits. Social media platforms, games, and even news sites are engineered to keep us hooked with quick, easy dopamine rewards. All those little bursts keep me craving another fix, and before I know it I've burned through an hour and learned absolutely nothing of value. Worse, it's not just about wasting time - being constantly hooked into this dop

A teenager in Manila hesitates at the door of a public restroom. The signs say "Men" and "Women," but neither feels right. They're not just a girl or a boy anymore; something inside is shifting, questioning the labels the world has given them. This small yet profound moment speaks to the heart of gender sensitivity. It's about seeing beyond the signs and understanding the person standing before them. We live in a world where gender expressions are vast and varied, yet our words often fall short. The challenge is clear in the Philippines, where every " kuya " and " ate " carries weight. We need to shift how we speak and think in offices and everywhere. Let's start with the basics right here before diving deeper. It's time to learn, unlearn, and relearn—for everyone's sake. Understanding Gender Sensitivity The argument is as old as time: God created only two genders, male and female. This belief has shaped societies for centurie

Photo borrowed from The Inquirer When Mariel Rodriguez posted the glutathione drip photo ( Vitamin C drip lang daw, kayo naman ) in the stately confines of Senator Robinhood Padilla's office, the ripple effect was immediate.  Senator Nancy Binay's subsequent reflection on this act ignited public discourse and prompted a deeper personal inquiry for me. As the spouse of a government official, this incident struck a chord. It begged the question: where do we draw the line? What is permissible for public officials and their kin, and what falls outside the bounds of propriety? This scenario unfurls against Republic Act 6713, a legislative canvas sketching the ethical contours for those in public service. Yet, as I delved into the nuances of this law, the question loomed larger: Did Mariel's actions, by extension, blur these ethical lines? This introduction is not just a prelude to a discussion; it's an invitation to navigate the intricate dance of ethics, public service, and

When I was thirteen, the Philippines pulsed with a faint but growing desire for freedom under the suffocating grip of the Marcos regime. My world, once defined by childhood, now expanded to include an awareness of struggle and resistance. Hidden books by authors like Primitivo Mijares, Ricardo Manapat, and Raymond Bonner revealed truths the streets of Manila dared not speak. They illuminated my young mind, guiding me through the shadows of oppression toward a quest to reclaim my nation. Thirty-eight years after EDSA, echoes of that moment still ring—the clamor of voices demanding dignity and freedom. In the cycle of history, I now see power lost and won again. The Marcoses, once ousted, are back, their legacy a complex thread in the ever-evolving story of the Philippines. Imelda's deliberate absence from her son's campaign and simmering tensions with Rodrigo Duterte further complicate our current political landscape. What does the legacy of EDSA mean? Was it simply a moment of

I grew up in the shadow of the church, the heavy bells marking the passage of time. As an ex-seminarian, I believed no man should part in what God joined. Family meant a father and a mother, a unity I never knew. Raised without a traditional family, I was blessed with the warmth of my aunt's home. Now, with a daughter of my own, I face the paradox of my beliefs and the reality of life in the Philippines. Here, where divorce is a ghost, it haunts us. We are the last to hold out against it, a country clinging to an ideal while ignoring the cries of those trapped in unions that bring harm, not harmony. I understand the sanctity of marriage, the vows made before God. Yet, I've seen the other side—the need for a law that allows people to part, not on a whim, but with heavy hearts seeking peace. This is the story of that struggle, the balance between faith and the harsh truths of life. It is about finding a middle ground where the law respects both the sanctity of marriage and the we

Picture this: I'm at a party, surrounded by a sea of unfamiliar faces, and the chatter feels like a physical weight pressing down on me.  My lungs tighten, and all I crave is the sweet silence of solitude. It feels like the very air is being squeezed out of me. There was a time when this buzzing crowd would have energized me. As a former radio jock and call center veteran, I thrived on conversation.  But tonight, just being here is overwhelming. The Inner World of an Introvert Crowds have become my Kryptonite. It's not a matter of shyness or disliking people. It's like my internal social battery starts on full charge but drains with alarming speed. Conversations become a struggle, thoughts begin to jumble, and the only solution is to escape and recharge in the bliss of my own company. It's a strange shift, considering  I spent years in fast-paced, socially demanding jobs...but something changed. The irony isn't lost on me. I'm a blogger – someone who can pour ou