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Ruth is a full-time writer. Foodie. Happy camper. Wanders a lot. Used to have the worst taste in men. A reformed swipe-a-holic. Reviving her blog after its death.

Thursday, April 27, 2006

When the publisher of your paper sends you a text message asking you to call him, you know he means business.


The first thing that came to my head is that he’s no longer satisfied with my work so I better shape up or he’ll find someone better. (I have always believed that nobody, I mean nobody, in our company is indispensable. Like if I think I’m good, they can always find someone better. It’s my extreme paranoia that they do.)


That’s when I started to panic. What will I do? I love my company. I love my job. I love the people I work with. Though I don’t plan to grow old there, I am not leaving anytime soon. Life’s peachy.


As it turned out it, he only wanted to inform me that our section won another award this year. And that it has been inducted to the Hall of Fame to boot. Now, who’s going to do the acceptance speech?


After a few finger-pointing with Dindin, it was settled that I was doing it. I’m not even going to pretend that I didn’t want to because I did.


It took me an hour to make a five-sentence paragraph. I even asked our publisher to proofread it for me. I couldn’t bring myself to memorize the dang thing.


On the day of the ceremony, I asked Shayn to paint my face. Anything that would help me deviate from my usual face powder and blush routine. She did a fine job… I think (she made a few mistakes here and there, but nothing a few water couldn’t erase).


Patwee texted just to warn me not to bounce on the stage. That would be embarrassing, she said.


Met up with Dindin who I insisted to be there because I needed someone to hold my hand while I worry how my speech sounded so juvenile to my own ears.


Then the trophy was given to us. I couldn’t help it. My heart simply burst with so much pride.


We didn’t need any validation for us to do our job, but there it was, written on a fiberglass. It was the pat on the back that we all needed. Now our job made extra sense--Dindin’s over-all lookout for any loose ends before an issue, Liz’s wonderful lay-outs that makes the pages come alive, Grace’s organizing and editing skills for the final touches, and my going to different schools in Manila to ask questions to kids.


When our photo came out on page one, I was thrilled. Not for any noble reason but because I looked thin in the photo and damn, I look good!


Never mind the teasing that I got from friends and editors alike on the day the issue came out. Basta, I look good. And I’m working for an award-winning section. Hah! Our direct competitor could eat our dust!