Today there is a fire in the refinery. I learned from Chan, who got it from Daphne who was in the process engineering area, that Tank 331 was on fire. Actually, I was not at the admin building then. I was at the cafeteria happily buying a chicken sandwich. It was only 4:00 PM when the whistle sounded. I thought it was too early, and too long, and I realized from the safety training that it was a fire. So I had to leave my chicken sandwich (I hadn't paid for it yet).
I went out the cafeteria, and saw a black smoke rising. I rushed to the assembly point, just past the second gate. But when I reached the gate, I realized that technically, I am not yet an employee and this have no responsibility (not to mention that I have no training). So I was about to walk back and get my sandwich when I saw sir G. I asked if we have to go to the assembly area, but he redirected me instead back to the training room.
The fire was quickly put out. It only took around 15 minutes. I wanted to get my sandwich already but I couldn't find the timing to ask sir. After 7 more minutes I decided to go out through the back door.
When I got my sandwich I found out it had no lettuce nor tomatoes in it (not even cucumber). :<
Friday, May 2, 2014
Thursday, May 1, 2014
May 1 2014 Thursday
Today I'm ecstatic. A LOT of things happened, I can't process them all, or at least not without writing. Where should I start? I guess I'll start at the beginning of the day.
Today I wrote a love letter. It's here in my notes, one without a title. I don't think it's appropriate to put one. It is a letter without theme, written for a special lady. I poured forth my feelings, melting together my beliefs and passions that have long been suspended and floating in my mind, shaping it with creativity, and finally hardening it with cold rationale. It felt like a masterpiece; like a rare sharp blade of a blacksmith. It was all my blood and soul poured forth in a single work. It was relieving. I could breathe calmly now as I think about it.
Today I saw Bataan. Rather, WE saw Bataan, I and my friends: Daphne (our gallant sponsor!!), Chan, Almira, Aaron, and RJ. Again, I'll proceed in chronological order. Daphne's car (her family's) looked really new. The aircon was cold and the seats were clean and without cover. We rode to Mt. Samat for about an hour.
During the trip I also tasted that veggie chicharon advertised by Daniel Padilla (sukang paombong flavour). It was pretty good, but it dehydrates me pretty quickly.
Originally, I planned to walk up Mt. Samat on my own. I wanted to try hiking by myself. But we were in Daph's care, so I joined in the climb by car. Since we left Villa Leonor at around 10 AM, we arrived there at about 11 AM. The view was breathtaking. Tall trees looked small toys and the plains and mountains filled the earth until the horizon. Sharp contrasts of shades of green and brown fill the eyes.
Then we toured the museum. The guns and bayonets and bazookas and mortars were really interesting. I didn't spend too much time on the photos and stories, though. I didn't like history much, even when I was a kid. But what was most interesting is the miniature of Bataan. It was really grand and detailed and beautiful. The mountains and beaches looked lovely. And it also gave me a much needed sense of geography. I want to tour more someday. The Mariveles mountain range looked really lovely.
Anyway, we went up the zigzag path to the cross. It was rather a tiring climb, but exciting. The cross at the top was taller. They say it's 92 feet high. We didn't get to the viewing deck though, there were too many people. Too many people always seems to spoil the fun. Or maybe I'm really not just a people-person.
So we ate lunch. It's the first time I've heard of "spabok". It's palabok, but with spaghetti noodles. And squid for meat. Unbelievable. It was sooo gooooodd!!!! It is a mixture of different cultures, Italian pasta, mixed with the Spanish palabok and the Philippine seafood. There was also a favorite: "inihaw na boneless bangus", and a separate inked squid viand. Unbelievableeee. Seafoooooodddddd. Aaaaaahhhhhhhh!!!!! I looveeee iiitttttttt TT______TT
Then at 1 PM we went to La Vista Inland Resort. I don't like swimming pools. I planned to just remain in the small cottage all the while. It wasn't so bad being alone since there were 3 karaoke booths around us and they played songs I like (OPM, classic rocks). But my friends managed to pull me, so I had to use cheesecloth as a towel. The CRs were terribly dirty, and so are the showers. I saw improperly drained cubicles, stinking of urine and fecal matter. And a blooded tampon.
I waded a bit in the water, and I still don't know how to tread. I tried the slide but my shorts generate too much friction. :<
All that was nothing compared to the fun I had in wave pool. Being swept away by powerful waves, anchoring on strangers for support; it was a very humbling, fun, and tiring experience. I almost got drowned in fact. I got caught in a big wave and temporarily submerged myself when some random guy used me as an anchor. I got up rather quickly then, so I guess it's all good. The water was warm though since there were too many people. I can only imagine myself in the deep, cold sea.
There was also a bit of a drama, where some maniac who was taking advantage of the body contact. He touched even my friends. Had I known earlier, I would have done something. Well, someone gave him a well-deserved punch in the face so I guess that's enough.
After another hassle of washing and drying and changing clothes, we finally left the water and went to a park in Wawa. The air was sufficiently clean, and I had fun watching people skate and exercise. Sadly, the beach is almost dead. There were no seagrasses, and the mangrove area is completely residential. The planted coconut trees and bermuda grass hasn't been there a year, as they said, but they are already half-brown. No surprise there though, the park's design hardly exhibited even minimal knowledge of the intertidal zone.
Then we went to Daphne's aunt's house, which was just beside the beach. It was a very modern house. The facade was neatly black and white, and the inside is startingly simple and beautiful. It was also very clean. The walls and the rails were not greasy, and had no smell whatsoever (yes, I smelled it). The balcony had a decent view on the street below, and also that of the Mariveles mountan range. The rooftop had the sea on its east and the mountains on the west (not to mention the flare on the south). And also a clear, unhindered view on the lovely blue sky. I'd like to go stargazing once.
There were other events that transpired at night, but they are not as interesting as what happened during the day (except maybe for inked squid again for dinner. I love seafood). Actually, I held back in detailing the events today, since I can see it's plenty long already. Good night then.
Today I wrote a love letter. It's here in my notes, one without a title. I don't think it's appropriate to put one. It is a letter without theme, written for a special lady. I poured forth my feelings, melting together my beliefs and passions that have long been suspended and floating in my mind, shaping it with creativity, and finally hardening it with cold rationale. It felt like a masterpiece; like a rare sharp blade of a blacksmith. It was all my blood and soul poured forth in a single work. It was relieving. I could breathe calmly now as I think about it.
Today I saw Bataan. Rather, WE saw Bataan, I and my friends: Daphne (our gallant sponsor!!), Chan, Almira, Aaron, and RJ. Again, I'll proceed in chronological order. Daphne's car (her family's) looked really new. The aircon was cold and the seats were clean and without cover. We rode to Mt. Samat for about an hour.
During the trip I also tasted that veggie chicharon advertised by Daniel Padilla (sukang paombong flavour). It was pretty good, but it dehydrates me pretty quickly.
Originally, I planned to walk up Mt. Samat on my own. I wanted to try hiking by myself. But we were in Daph's care, so I joined in the climb by car. Since we left Villa Leonor at around 10 AM, we arrived there at about 11 AM. The view was breathtaking. Tall trees looked small toys and the plains and mountains filled the earth until the horizon. Sharp contrasts of shades of green and brown fill the eyes.
Then we toured the museum. The guns and bayonets and bazookas and mortars were really interesting. I didn't spend too much time on the photos and stories, though. I didn't like history much, even when I was a kid. But what was most interesting is the miniature of Bataan. It was really grand and detailed and beautiful. The mountains and beaches looked lovely. And it also gave me a much needed sense of geography. I want to tour more someday. The Mariveles mountain range looked really lovely.
Anyway, we went up the zigzag path to the cross. It was rather a tiring climb, but exciting. The cross at the top was taller. They say it's 92 feet high. We didn't get to the viewing deck though, there were too many people. Too many people always seems to spoil the fun. Or maybe I'm really not just a people-person.
So we ate lunch. It's the first time I've heard of "spabok". It's palabok, but with spaghetti noodles. And squid for meat. Unbelievable. It was sooo gooooodd!!!! It is a mixture of different cultures, Italian pasta, mixed with the Spanish palabok and the Philippine seafood. There was also a favorite: "inihaw na boneless bangus", and a separate inked squid viand. Unbelievableeee. Seafoooooodddddd. Aaaaaahhhhhhhh!!!!! I looveeee iiitttttttt TT______TT
Then at 1 PM we went to La Vista Inland Resort. I don't like swimming pools. I planned to just remain in the small cottage all the while. It wasn't so bad being alone since there were 3 karaoke booths around us and they played songs I like (OPM, classic rocks). But my friends managed to pull me, so I had to use cheesecloth as a towel. The CRs were terribly dirty, and so are the showers. I saw improperly drained cubicles, stinking of urine and fecal matter. And a blooded tampon.
I waded a bit in the water, and I still don't know how to tread. I tried the slide but my shorts generate too much friction. :<
All that was nothing compared to the fun I had in wave pool. Being swept away by powerful waves, anchoring on strangers for support; it was a very humbling, fun, and tiring experience. I almost got drowned in fact. I got caught in a big wave and temporarily submerged myself when some random guy used me as an anchor. I got up rather quickly then, so I guess it's all good. The water was warm though since there were too many people. I can only imagine myself in the deep, cold sea.
There was also a bit of a drama, where some maniac who was taking advantage of the body contact. He touched even my friends. Had I known earlier, I would have done something. Well, someone gave him a well-deserved punch in the face so I guess that's enough.
After another hassle of washing and drying and changing clothes, we finally left the water and went to a park in Wawa. The air was sufficiently clean, and I had fun watching people skate and exercise. Sadly, the beach is almost dead. There were no seagrasses, and the mangrove area is completely residential. The planted coconut trees and bermuda grass hasn't been there a year, as they said, but they are already half-brown. No surprise there though, the park's design hardly exhibited even minimal knowledge of the intertidal zone.
Then we went to Daphne's aunt's house, which was just beside the beach. It was a very modern house. The facade was neatly black and white, and the inside is startingly simple and beautiful. It was also very clean. The walls and the rails were not greasy, and had no smell whatsoever (yes, I smelled it). The balcony had a decent view on the street below, and also that of the Mariveles mountan range. The rooftop had the sea on its east and the mountains on the west (not to mention the flare on the south). And also a clear, unhindered view on the lovely blue sky. I'd like to go stargazing once.
There were other events that transpired at night, but they are not as interesting as what happened during the day (except maybe for inked squid again for dinner. I love seafood). Actually, I held back in detailing the events today, since I can see it's plenty long already. Good night then.
Wednesday, April 30, 2014
April 30 2014 Wednesday
Today I got a shitty jacket. It seriously smells like shit. (I'm not sorry for the "vulgarity". I think 'shit' is the aptly strong adjective I need, and it would be an insult to language and a waste not to use it.) It was not ironed out. It has more creases than waves in the ocean. It looks like it hasn't received as much water as a desert lately, yet has probably more molds than trees in a rainforest. But the most outstanding feature is still its stinking smell. I had no choice though, I have to wear this and clean it before returning it.
Anyhow, the jacket isn't the saddest part of the trip. The working conditions down in the plant are terrible. The vapor smell permeates the air all throughout. These vapors are no mere nasal irritant though: some are carcinogenic, while others nibble on the olfactory system. Some are skin and eye irritants, others cause impotency, many are flammable and explosive and a select few could instantly kill in a single dose.
Not to mention the constant noise that eats up the eardrums, the body, and the mind.
I think PPE is not enough against such things. There should be a technology upgrade or landscape architecture or something. A few yellow-green plants pop up here and there once in a while, but they look more like annoyances than relief.
I'm starting to rethink my stay here. I still want to teach children. Or maybe back in Pisay or in UP ChE Dept.
Today we studied the CCRU (Continuous Catalyst Regeneration Platforming Unit). It was sooooo interesting! I guess partly due to the instructor, who was very enthusiastic as well! What was his name? Mr. Cruz I think? Anyhow, he really knows a LOT, especially taking into account that he was only operating for what, 5 years??
Nonetheless, I still think the design of the unit is fascinating in itself. Very complex, yet everything fits like an enzyme to its substrate. I guess I can't detail it here now, since this entry is plenty long already.
Also, today tita was sent to the hospital. I pray that she gets well soon. I didn't know her last name until now. Dabu. I guess that also goes for ate Jem. Jem Dabu. Has a nice ring to it.
We cooked our own food for dinner but I guess I'll be signing off now.
Anyhow, the jacket isn't the saddest part of the trip. The working conditions down in the plant are terrible. The vapor smell permeates the air all throughout. These vapors are no mere nasal irritant though: some are carcinogenic, while others nibble on the olfactory system. Some are skin and eye irritants, others cause impotency, many are flammable and explosive and a select few could instantly kill in a single dose.
Not to mention the constant noise that eats up the eardrums, the body, and the mind.
I think PPE is not enough against such things. There should be a technology upgrade or landscape architecture or something. A few yellow-green plants pop up here and there once in a while, but they look more like annoyances than relief.
I'm starting to rethink my stay here. I still want to teach children. Or maybe back in Pisay or in UP ChE Dept.
Today we studied the CCRU (Continuous Catalyst Regeneration Platforming Unit). It was sooooo interesting! I guess partly due to the instructor, who was very enthusiastic as well! What was his name? Mr. Cruz I think? Anyhow, he really knows a LOT, especially taking into account that he was only operating for what, 5 years??
Nonetheless, I still think the design of the unit is fascinating in itself. Very complex, yet everything fits like an enzyme to its substrate. I guess I can't detail it here now, since this entry is plenty long already.
Also, today tita was sent to the hospital. I pray that she gets well soon. I didn't know her last name until now. Dabu. I guess that also goes for ate Jem. Jem Dabu. Has a nice ring to it.
We cooked our own food for dinner but I guess I'll be signing off now.
Friday, April 25, 2014
April 25 2014 Friday
Today I colored a PFD!! It was just Petron's BASIC Process Flow Diagram but it was complex as a flagella. Each unit works harmoniously with the others; each important but none indispensable. There is always a back-up, except for the CCRU (Continuous Catalytic Regeneration Platforming Unit), that is, since its old partner the PWF (Powerformer) is rather old.
Anyway, I color-coded the PFD to 6 classification of equipment: blue for hydrotreaters, violet fo separators, red for reformers, yellow for crackers, orange for the isom unit, and green for the merox (mercaptan oxidation) units.
Why was it fun?? I'd say our work is beautiful. But the act of coloring has somehow pulled me in the wonderful imaginative world of kindergartens.
I'd like to do it again some other day.
Anyway, I color-coded the PFD to 6 classification of equipment: blue for hydrotreaters, violet fo separators, red for reformers, yellow for crackers, orange for the isom unit, and green for the merox (mercaptan oxidation) units.
Why was it fun?? I'd say our work is beautiful. But the act of coloring has somehow pulled me in the wonderful imaginative world of kindergartens.
I'd like to do it again some other day.
Thursday, April 24, 2014
April 24 2014 Thursday
Today I got my safety hat. It looks very neat! It had a single fin which ran through it from front to back. It was a shiny white even though it was a bit dusty. It smelled like some weird plastic, probably from the material it was made. So I had to clean it with alcohol to remove the dust and cover the smell.
I also went to a newly opened Starbucks branch in Balanga, Bataan with a few of my friends. I didn't buy anything, though I did manage to taste a drink. It was just a sip though. I didn't know which was it, but it was a very sweet, creamy, mocha flavored cold coffee. It was good, I must admit. Also the place was very classy. Clean sofas and smooth, shiny, plastic wooden tables lined the windows. The land area isn't the largest, but it looked quite spacious nonetheless. The comfort room was grand too. Quite spacious for a single person capacity. Motion-sensor automated lights and faucet, and the dark, shiny tiles left a feeling of being in a hotel.
But I'm still no fan of starbucks. I still think it to be overpriced, if not overrated.
Anyway, it's interesting that I walked into starbucks carrying a humble sandwich from Burger Machine. Not to mention I was wearing a shirt I recycled from monday, and pants from yesterday. Oh, and the brief too. Hey, I was despserate you know. At least noone seemed to care.
I thought I wouldn't have time to review for tomorrow's exam, butt turned out it only took 30 minutes to study. Well, the night is quite deep and I should go to sleep now.
I also went to a newly opened Starbucks branch in Balanga, Bataan with a few of my friends. I didn't buy anything, though I did manage to taste a drink. It was just a sip though. I didn't know which was it, but it was a very sweet, creamy, mocha flavored cold coffee. It was good, I must admit. Also the place was very classy. Clean sofas and smooth, shiny, plastic wooden tables lined the windows. The land area isn't the largest, but it looked quite spacious nonetheless. The comfort room was grand too. Quite spacious for a single person capacity. Motion-sensor automated lights and faucet, and the dark, shiny tiles left a feeling of being in a hotel.
But I'm still no fan of starbucks. I still think it to be overpriced, if not overrated.
Anyway, it's interesting that I walked into starbucks carrying a humble sandwich from Burger Machine. Not to mention I was wearing a shirt I recycled from monday, and pants from yesterday. Oh, and the brief too. Hey, I was despserate you know. At least noone seemed to care.
I thought I wouldn't have time to review for tomorrow's exam, butt turned out it only took 30 minutes to study. Well, the night is quite deep and I should go to sleep now.
I Don't Need Your Inspirational
Don’t tell me to just believe. Don’t tell me that if only I believed in myself, that if only I believed hard enough, tried hard enough, then I could be anyone I want. Then I can do anything. Anything.
What good does believing do? And what can faith accomplish? If my faith in myself is as big as a mountain, can it move a mustard seed? After all, it is not so much about faith, as it is the object of faith.
I don’t want to hear you saying “you can do it!”, when clearly, I can’t. I hate how you force yourself to think positively, how you believe baselessly on optimism as if it were a god. I hate how you chant your words like some mantra of an obscure religion. I hate how you only look at the positive side, not facing the reality of the situation.
Let me tell you: false hopes could be more destructive than hard criticism. It does not kill in one blow after which it is possible to recover. No, it whittles away the life, little by little. It keeps me ignorant. It keeps me from growth.
“Everything will be fine.”
Why?
“It’s okay.”
But it’s not.
You call it inspiration. Positive thinking. All I see are half truths and baseless lies, statements that can’t even stand up to a little scrutiny. So stop feeding me your sweet poison. I’d rather swallow whole a raw bitter gourd.
What I need is the truth. I need the encouraging word of truth, not the desperate hopes of a disillusioned mind.
I need you to tell me that truth, that I sang terribly at the karaoke last night. I need you to tell me that I skate well. I need to hear how embarrassing I was in front of her. And tell me I’m funny. That my breath is bad. Tell me I cook well, and that my fashion sense is terrible.
I need that bloody, excruciatingly painful truth.
So tell me that it’s not okay. Cry with me. Tell me that even this is for the good of those who love God. Tell me that I’m wrong. That I’m wretched. And that I have hope. Remind me that I’m forgiven. Tell me that I am changed.
I don’t need a placebo. I need that bitter medicine. I need that bloody, excruciatingly painful heart surgery. I don’t need your inspirational.
What good does believing do? And what can faith accomplish? If my faith in myself is as big as a mountain, can it move a mustard seed? After all, it is not so much about faith, as it is the object of faith.
I don’t want to hear you saying “you can do it!”, when clearly, I can’t. I hate how you force yourself to think positively, how you believe baselessly on optimism as if it were a god. I hate how you chant your words like some mantra of an obscure religion. I hate how you only look at the positive side, not facing the reality of the situation.
Let me tell you: false hopes could be more destructive than hard criticism. It does not kill in one blow after which it is possible to recover. No, it whittles away the life, little by little. It keeps me ignorant. It keeps me from growth.
“Everything will be fine.”
Why?
“It’s okay.”
But it’s not.
You call it inspiration. Positive thinking. All I see are half truths and baseless lies, statements that can’t even stand up to a little scrutiny. So stop feeding me your sweet poison. I’d rather swallow whole a raw bitter gourd.
What I need is the truth. I need the encouraging word of truth, not the desperate hopes of a disillusioned mind.
I need you to tell me that truth, that I sang terribly at the karaoke last night. I need you to tell me that I skate well. I need to hear how embarrassing I was in front of her. And tell me I’m funny. That my breath is bad. Tell me I cook well, and that my fashion sense is terrible.
I need that bloody, excruciatingly painful truth.
So tell me that it’s not okay. Cry with me. Tell me that even this is for the good of those who love God. Tell me that I’m wrong. That I’m wretched. And that I have hope. Remind me that I’m forgiven. Tell me that I am changed.
I don’t need a placebo. I need that bitter medicine. I need that bloody, excruciatingly painful heart surgery. I don’t need your inspirational.
Wednesday, April 23, 2014
April 23 2014 Wednesday
The dolphin fell from my roof yesterday. A glow-in-the-dark, flat dolphin stuck with magic tape. It glows rather faintly at night. I suppose it's been stuck there for a long time.
This dolphin is my moon. In the utter darkness of the night in our room in this boarding house, it glows a faint, lonely, gentle green. Along with seven stars: 2 big, 5 small. I sleep on the upper deck; they are stuck together within my arm's reach.
I remember the dolphin was on the floor yesterday morning. It was on the cabinet yesternight. But now it's gpne.
It's a little more boring now. And a little bit darker too. Only seven stars to light my night ceiling. No moon, no dolphin.
It's a little more sad, actually. Maybe I should sleep now.
This dolphin is my moon. In the utter darkness of the night in our room in this boarding house, it glows a faint, lonely, gentle green. Along with seven stars: 2 big, 5 small. I sleep on the upper deck; they are stuck together within my arm's reach.
I remember the dolphin was on the floor yesterday morning. It was on the cabinet yesternight. But now it's gpne.
It's a little more boring now. And a little bit darker too. Only seven stars to light my night ceiling. No moon, no dolphin.
It's a little more sad, actually. Maybe I should sleep now.
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