Ice Carvings

The Kings are back big-time, and even yours truly, the modern male Cassandra, the jinx-god of the premature statements, can't contain his newfound pleasure he had to blog about it. Kings routed the defending champion Spurs in Game 4 earlier, 102-84, evening out the series to 2 wins apiece. I don't really care if they lose eventually, cause it only shows my team has heart. The win made up for a lousy experience last night, where we went to National Bookstore and saw all these official NBA notebooks for sale. Went through all of them and couldn't find not even one lousy Kings steno pad. Ach. I have half a mind to visit the manufacturer. And later, i'll be going to the Bad Boy tour featuring Dennis Rodman in Araneta Coliseum courtesy of 2 free in-law tickets. Finally get to see some real NBA players live. And maybe get some decent memories. Last night was a highlight of bad ones, as i had one of the weirdest dreams ever. I dreamt i was minding my own business at the LRT Mo...

i really don't make sense. i create a blog, write all my deepest darkest (but publishable) thoughts - on anything: reporting blow-by-blow accounts of tiffs with workmates, air frustrations on friends, rip off well-intended events, and write bone-dry travel guides. Then, somebody asks me for a work sample and i casually mention i have a blog. They ask, i cutely resist, then give out the URL. I don't hear from them again. Not an even a Don't Reply rejection letter. Does reading a few entries make them realize i'm not exactly team player material? Now that i thought about it: I hope not, i don't rip off anyone because i'm Migraine Boy or a hatemonger. I usually am a passive, give-in person who never exactly wins a heated argument, especially at the office. I air my gripes through this pixel powered journal. But it's meant for me. It doesn't impair on my ability to write articles, direct a production, develop marketing strategies, or summarize an entire book...

prologue: I hedged against writing this entry but i guess transparency won over everything else. If i continued writing about just the good things, it wouldn't make much sense 10 years from now, as any offspring might see this and conclude that was a cheery person my entire life. --- We lost a game we should have won last night by 3 points. Led the entire game except the last 2 minutes. And what's worse, i spent the whole game chained to the bench. I do realize i may not be as good as the rest of the players, but i try to do my share whenever asked. I really felt bad knowing i could have helped one way or the other, but i guess the coach was afraid i'd do more harm than good. So despite being the earliest to arrive for the game, my jersey hardly worked up a sweat, and it was so bad that my water bottle got home untouched. I even forgot to bring home my shoes. A teammate took it home with him and joked later that it was lucky it didnt fit him. If it did, i would have given ...

Trust me It's Paradise This is where the hungry come to feed For mine is a generation that circles the globe in search of something we haven't tried before so never refuse an invitation never resist the unfamiliar never fail to be polite and never outstay your welcome just keep your mind open and suck in the experience and if it hurts you know what... it's probably worth it you hope, and you dream but you never believe that something is going to happen for you not like it does in the movies and when it actually does you expect it to feel different more visceral more real i was waiting for it to hit me i still believe in paradise but now at least i know it's not some place you can look for cause it's not where you go it's how you feel for a moment in your life and if you find that moment it lasts forever - Orbital (feat. Leonardo Di Caprio) "Beached" There we go again. Somebody beat me to the lines. No regrets though. Makes a wonderful soundtrack when d...

while i would like to thank our previous guest writer, that would be the last time i let a starfish write for me. it was a day filled with adventures and instead of reliving the fun, the stupid living christmas decor decided to use my blog to air his grievances... Apart from the starfish experiment (everything ethical), i found happiness that day starting on a sand castle. With a shovel, a small plastic pail, and a styrofoam cup as molds, i never went far. The warm beer i brought helped me accept the fact that without the proper vision (or molds), i can never create a decent hasbro or lego-type castle. Of course, my companions have long since abandoned me in this effort - they had to sleep away the effects of snorkeling a few hours earlier. Ah, a new favorite activity of mine, snorkeling. I realized while swimming with the fishes that i loved those national geographic shows for a reason. it was exhilarting to see living creatures darting around and singularly avoiding you. you consciou...

i hate Holy Week. Talk about invasion of privacy. What's so holy about that? One week a year and tourists go ape shit. I wish to God they'd be content to watch you in your natural habitat. But nooo. They pick you up, turn you around, and take stupid videos of you doing what comes naturally. Here i am, minding my own fucking business -- mind you, the harmless business of burying myself halfway in the sand, and feeding on plankton. For God's sake, plankton! microscopic organisms nobody would miss. And i do my part in keeping the ocean clean. Then these bastards come in droves during Holy Week. They crowd the shores, and they have the nerve to pick on wildlife. Harmless fucking wildlife that survived millions of years of evolution, only to be picked up by a 30-year old in an outdated Kings jersey for the sole reason he doesn't know what starfish do when they flip over. The nerve of the retro-loving bastard. I do what i do, what nature taught me to do. Survive. I flip over ...

Happy Easter! My back still hurts from repeated exposure to the fierce sun, and i have yet to recover from a minor cold, but i couldn't feel better. Just spent four glorious days at the beach in Matabungkay. For those of you who know me well, that's saying a lot. I'm not exactly a beach person, and i would almost always choose the cooler climates over surf and sky. Turned out that i needed little convincing to be a beach bum. A simple episode of snorkeling and sand castling was enough for me to plan our next trip: to Palawan no less. Day 1: Arrived after wrestling with a map provided by the travel agency -- a harbinger of things to come. The map itself was unlike any map i've seen, with directions that look like they used bent wire and traced it over paper. Landmarks were curiously chosen: a 7-11, a sugar mill, and guess-where junctions that offer little chance of redemption if you chose wrongly. In between the 3-hour drive, we treated ourselves with a Bulalo lunch at ...

it's been almost a month and i haven't added anything to my Sacramento Kings collection. It's more than lack of money -- supporting a collection usually involves extra money. However, even though inflow is good (even great at times) after i decided to fly solo, i realized the first pitfall of business: the unreliability of collecting. Some clients are cool and pay as soon as you deliver, but there are some where you have to spend additional expenses in cell charges just to get them to notice you and your billing. I am at a loss on where to get more stuff. I have long given up this country as Lakers-Bulls-Rockets-Cavaliers territory. The popularity of past champions and emerging superstars have also led to the availability of the Pistons, Spurs, Nuggets and Heat. Where does that leave my beloved team? SM sports an NBA store where they sell everything - sandos, undershirts, mugs, head/wristbands, keychains, sports bottles, towels, socks, and caps that flash your favorite NBA ...

sometimes i wonder what it feels like to get old. for the nth time, i let my anger over something else affect the rest of my day. something i should have just ignored altogether. it somehow seeped into the rest of the day. i even went so far as to argue with nel over a seemingly innocuous matter. funny how some people rub off on you. but i think nel summed it up best: "You go to extremes. There are people who walk over you and yet you don't mind. Then there are people who are nice to you but these you think weird about." Too high and too low. There ain't no in between. If i stumble and fall, it's all or nothing at all. Darling, i don't know why i go to extremes. - Billy Joel "I Go To Extremes" Anyway, i think it's true. I should stop selling myself short. Just walk away and say nothing. There are plenty of people who value your time and still manage to enjoy your company. Besides, i got enough on my plate already. Work and otherwise. It's nic...

i was this close to declaring earlier a confirmed bad day for me today. consider the facts: 1. i lost my ATM card. 2. saw that the electric bill increased by 30% since i decided to save on gas by working at home. 3. my phone has gone haywire the past few days. Loses signal even on high-traffic areas. and when the signal came back, i was out of credits. while driving. 4. late for a meeting. because my phone wouldn't let me ask for directions. 5. Meeting went on and on. so i had to hoof it for my other meeting. but, considering the gains i made, i'd call it a frabjous day (callou, callay!). During the meeting that i came in late. we were offered to do another project same timetable. I get to direct and write this one. And boy, am i excited. Then, despite my barging into a client's intimate dinner, he seemed to like the deluge of designs presented to him. Considering i was at my wit's end last week trying to please him, it was a refreshing change. Just a week to go and i...

due to creative differences, i have decided to part ways with my computer keyboard. every time i open my PC, i have to wait two hours for my keyboard to settle down. Until then, she (PC peripherals are feminine - they talk among themselves in a language i don't understand, they require expensive maintenance and upgrades, you have to know which buttons to push to turn them on, etc.) spews garbage characters every time i type. So e becomes e91, t becomes t-3 (then opens the search window), i becomes i6 then tabs to the next button. Oddly enough, the malady only affects the first alpha line (qwertyuiop). AAAAAR02R02R02R02R02GGH! T-3hi 6s i 6s t-3he91 pi 6t-3s! despite a number of proferred solutions, the problem still persists. I tried virus scans, spyware removal, pranic healing and american indian war chants. Each one to no avail. I tried to get her into counseling, but when i tried to email for an appointment, she muddled up the message and opened the Control Panel. I never foresa...

i was scanning old email earlier and found some poems written to me by a blue fairy about a couple of years ago. while i tried to keep in touch (just to keep in touch, really) with her by various means, she gave no indication whatsoever of a willingness to chat or exchange emails. while scanning i found the reason: SCAR What is there in that? To feel miserable about? When you captured A magical night With a sylph. And you yourself, A wizard Should know first-hand. That to be with her-- Is to be with Ether, Frost-sigh, And incense-smoke... That which is,...

funny what showers can do to you. i was busy lathering up and soaping myself when i realized that some(at least three) of my favorites songs curiously had the word "alone" to it: Leave Me Alone (New Order) I Alone (Live) Better Off Alone (Alice Deejay) Not to be defensive, but the songs above have another thing in common: they don't use the word "alone" in a negative, pitiful way. They're not crying loneliness, but rather prefer a solitary status. so it goes. -- Today also marks the confirmation of a long standing rule: never talk to someone either tired, sick or hungry. And especially never shoot the breeze with one who is all three. Tired, hungry, and sick people will never understand anything you say. Baser desires like food and rest press into their consciousness, throbbing like a migraine. It will always end up as a waste of bandwidth. --- despite my pronouncements on the freedom of being.. er... uh, free, clouds are fast approaching. events are taking...

this is one of the questions that has recently haunted me (actually, more like bit me on the leg...). Let's examine my new weekday routine: 9:00 am (minimum)- Wake Up 9:30 am - actually rise up 10:00 am - decide on breakfast while checking solar sports and JackTV 10:15 am - realize that nel, as usual, left breakfast ready and waiting since 8:00 am. 10:20 am - combination breakfast/wrestling on TV 11:00 am - go online, check email, check NBA on ESPN.com, then read the sports columns 11:30 am to 2:30 pm - get some actual work done, but in between final fantasy 8 battles, unlimited bathroom breaks, and trips to the fridge and the TV set. 2:45 pm - lunch with whatever is available downstairs. if newly minted, call for pizza or chicken. 3:30 pm - resume working (or downloading) 5:00 pm - stop working for no apparent reason. then grab a book. 6:00 pm - wind down and prepare for nel's arrival. 7:00 pm to 9:00 pm - dinner or whatever 9:30 pm - back upstairs, working or whatever. 1:00 a...

During one of my stints event managing, i was asked to be a producer/adviser to an Art contest anniversary AVP. The gig had me going to one of the only truly modern houses in the country. I was thinking of adding photos, but then again, we like keeping identities secret. Anyway, the owner of the house is a prominent writer and member of Manila's social circle. I was amazed: here i was gawking at the very nice house of a writer. Of course, my first internal question was: "How can you be so rich if you write for a living???" Wisely, i didn't say a word about this supposed conflict of interest. The owner warmed up after a few minutes, and began to talk earnestly. About every subject imaginable. During lulls in the video shoot (i was the producer/host no, i don't appear in the final version), we would fall into a lingering conversation about life and its infinite permutations. She was indefatigable. Then again, maybe all writers are, as a rule. They talk as much as th...

Between the searching and the need to work it out I stop believing everything will be alright Broken We are broken I'm walking uphill being turned around and round Secret in motion when my feet are on the ground Broken We are broken In my mind's eye One little boy anger one little man Funny how time flies - Broken, Tears for Fears i had the pleasure of watching concert DVDs last weekend at a family gathering (yep, i was at my brother-in-law's den, having a beer and ignoring everybody else). I was able to watch Tears for Fears - concert at Sta. Barbara before their breakup, and Queen - Freddie Mercury era and post. i was especially touched when Brian May went onstage and mentioned he was going to sing a song that he usually sang with Mercury. Love of my life, You hurt me, You broken my heart, Now you leave me Love of my life can't you see, Bring it back bring it back, Don't take it away from me, Because you don't know what it means to me Love of my life don't...

I have to hide Behind pixels of light For fear of fire down my eyes Innocent dots Form letters, then words As I try to hide my face But not my thoughts From you The soonest you turn off your interest The pixels begin to fade unsure of their outcome unaware of their purpose - Pixels, 1993/1994 One of the oldest poems i made, Pixels was born back when the things that matter to me are now downright laughable, my angst was fueled by pettiness, and my main worry was having enough money for lunch. Pathetic twerp that I am then, pathetic twerp with lunch money I am now. I wrote this around 1993/1994, way before email, chatting, and blogging were bywords we casually roll off our tongues as we sashay the sidewalks while sipping our lattes and listen to our MP3 players. Hell, i wrote this when the Internet was a term spoken in hushed tones in computer labs (i personally was introduced to the wide wild web in 1995 when i moved to DPSI, who owned the monopoly of selling Macs then). PIxels came fro...

(note: this title is not an original. i hacked it from a campaign made by one of the local shoe companies. If i remember which, i'll be glad to quote them.) I blew my extra money on shoes today. Not one pair but two pairs. For all you females out there, i know that buying more than a pair is more a norm rather than an exception. But this is my blog, and this is my story. anyway, it's not what i bought that enlightened me today. it's how i did so. earlier, i spent the better part of the afternoon making sense of a sales book that i'm supposed to summarize (i got a very good commendation for my first assignment summarizing books - the professional equivalent of stamping a star into the back of your hand when you recite in kindergarten class). After trying to do so (they were full of numbers), i gladly headed back to the summary office and asked for a new one instead. I also got my first payment in cold cash. It's not much, but it's unexpected money, so i decided t...

I hit my self-inflicted quota for March 5 days into the month. Which means any additional work or income would be a bonus. Or a cushion assuming that April begins a dry spell. Fortunately, I can't see that far into the future anyway, so i'll enjoy my victory, thank you very much. Whatever happens, Starbucks is fast becoming the winner in this epic struggle, as i have embarked on a daily fix of venti (20 oz) size latte. I realized i haven't been blogging as much as i should have, considering that i am my own bundy clock. But i guess i've been busy enough to hide my angst over people, situations, and the general malaise that envelops bored or stressed people. I'm not bored. I just pulled another all-nighter trying to make sense of a book called The Number. After reading it and turning in a 13-page essay, i felt deflated. It's not as easy as it seemed it would be (the book wasn't exactly a page-turner), but i got my motivation that the proceeds from this summar...

for someone who just escaped the 830 to 6 shift because of constricting methods in time and output, here i am typing up this entry somewhere in Makati on a Sunday dusk. Why? Because i have work to do. I just spent 3 consecutive all-nighters finishing up on a research document that should pay off in the form of money and additional contacts -- provided i do right. This was after an intense session of straight editing for another client. I realized that being your own boss also means being your own driver, messenger, secretary and clerk. Not to mention janitor. Anyway, this setup keeps my overhead low and with a few more projects in the next few days, i might just out-earn my previous full time gig. The perks are wonderful as well. I can oversleep, although i have yet to do so with the number of pending projects. I do have unrestricted access to the refrigerator and the cupboard, so breaktimes are always a possibility. Plus, whenever i get angsty, i can always go to the gym. Any time i w...