Ice Carvings

Funny things keep happening last night. First, nel got me a brand new mug she found by accident at the plastics depot in malabon. The mug had the profile of one of my favorite players, Bobby Jackson, decked in his Kings uniform. The mug was perfect, except for the ceramic (but unpainted) hello kitty figurine cemented at the holder... maybe hello kitty is a big fan. then, i dreamed that my blog has become a bit of a cult hit viewed by lots of people i don't know. I kinda got the impression when someone sent me a handwritten letter professing her thanks for keeping on writing. The sender was a female OCW working in Japan, and she enclosed a few photos of herself. Inexplicably, shots of me in my christmas party dance number were included in the envelope. Man, i should really refrain from MSG before bedtime...

I survived my first Christmas party at Escudo Corp. And it wasn't as bad as i expected. Considering the amount of HP i had to expend to pull off my participation, it was pretty much enjoyable compared to the parties i've attended. I had to perform two numbers - one for the boys team and the other a traditional department rookies initiation dance number. Also made an impromptu AVP for the retiring folk plus help out as a member of the games and prizes committee. There is a spirited rivalry every year between the boys and the girls on who can one-up the other during the Christmas party. The boys won last year in a controversy-marred showdown, and are hell-bent on retaining the title. The girls are still fuming mad over what they perceived as a robbery, and are equally hell-bent on winning one. Sparks even flew when some of the boys posted photos of last years dance-off with "The Thrill of Victory" captions for male photos and "The Agony of Defeat" for the wome...

Let's see. Based on my last entry, here is a summary of my active sports life: Plays basketball, billiards, badminton, bowling, table tennis, doesn't mind running, knows a little volleyball, understands football (both kinds, but there is no way i can dedicate myself to the sport - not here in Manila), likes snorkeling a bit, and played ultimate frisbee once. Neither good nor bad in these sports. Your average joe who doesn't want to be left behind so tries all these things. Just never mastered any of them to play competitively. Just like my career, and my life in general. In case the point still eludes, i guess i am meant to be a jack of all trades. You know, master of none. Gutsy enough to try but not dedicated enough to concentrate on a single field. Should i examine the reason why in sports, career, and the rest of my totality, i seem to hover on being a jack-of-all-trades rather than a specialist? Am i afraid to dedicate all time and effort on a single pursuit, with the...

i've been meaning to document my recent experiences the past 2 months, but somehow, there are less compelling reasons to do so. apart from preserving memories from my recent trip to bacolod, my time-traveling sojourn to the eighties courtesy of a Super Dry event, even a wrestling special (yup, i finagled free tickets from my brother again), and various assortments of the dreary and not-so dreary, there is so much to tell, and no voice to speak of. work isn't the culprit, as the last few weeks saw the end of spent budgets. No events, nothing much to do, so i busied myself with the unenviable task of sorting out the remaining tasks for the year. and helped out with some creative ventures to sister divisions like packaging and coke. of course, there are various company outreach programs fueled by this season to be jolly. in short, there's a spattering of work to be done, but not enough to be a valid excuse of not being able to blog. i do have plenty of interesting distractions...

During this morning's chitchat, I just found out from my officemate that her son, Luis, was looking forward yesterday to go to her office and "see tito james." Out of blue, Luis told her mom that tito james is his idol. Whoa. I know the kid likes me because I kept pace with his dissertations on the whole Star Wars franchise during his last visit. I even spent a few moments with him building Rebel and Empire starcraft from assorted Lego pieces. But nothing I did was markedly different from how I play with other children, so Luis’ flippant remark left me amused and flattered. Of course, that wasn’t the end of the story. Turned out that Luis now has three idols. The first two were Spongebob and Mr. Bean. I had to laugh out loud for that. Even as I was just starting on dreaming on how great a dad I could be, or how nice it would be to be setting the examples for a generation of kiddies, I got the kick that I probably would make a great cartoon character. This realization kno...

first time i checked in the company bowling tournament. Our team was running second place by the time i was able to free up a saturday afternoon and play. it was an omen that our leading bowler got stuck up north and wasn't able to make it. So there was i, rookie player, teamed with four hardcore veterans who averaged at least 140. Me, who used a 9 pound ball and played with an unorthodox release, pitted with the top team from Coke. The first game was a dream for me, as i wound up the top scorer for both teams with a scorching 178. I managed to put in four strikes, and choked on the fifth, which would have netted me free ice cream to take home. anyway, i did manage to pull the score way over the other team so we drew first blood. Don't get me wrong, but a 178 is way over my game, and i think it's one of my top three all-time highest scores this side of life. unfortunately, my highlight was over shortly, as i managed to scrape in a 114 and a 118, pushing our totals down and ...

I’m a beer drinker, but not much of a social one. I’m not the type who would pay a hundred bucks for a single bottle of beer just to get the privilege of hanging out at social clubs, where most people’s shoes cost more than my entire wardrobe. I don’t mind finishing off a six-pack by myself if it means being in front of the home entertainment system or slaving away at the PC, busying myself with email, downloading files, or blogging. I like my beer cold, and if company is required, I prefer the comfort afforded by long-known friends. San Miguel Oktoberfest changed all that. I discovered to my surprise that Oktoberfest means partying on! No matter how much you’ve consumed (there are limits you know…always drink moderately), how much fun you’ve had, or how many friends you make for one night, there will be another Oktoberfest leg around the corner. And it goes on for a month. Apart from the beer, the scene removes all your inhibitions in making new friends. You don’t mind tipping your g...

In the course of work, I’ve been reading up on biographies of a number of famous people who made it through hard work, sheer determination, and a willingness to buck the odds (what a job eh? reading during office hours and getting paid…). Their inspiring stories, often either a rags-to-riches or obscurity-to-fame type, has led countless people to think about being master of their own fate and captain of their soul. Upon reflection, I realized I had none of the qualities of a successful businessperson, so I guess as early as now, I must consign myself to a life of abject mediocrity. I was not born special. I didn’t come from a life of poverty so I don’t have that chip on my shoulder that makes me obsess over making it big. I did have some Kodak moments, including episodes running around the house without shorts on. However, that was more out of diaper rash rather than destitution. I wasn’t a product of nobility or rich people as well, so I don’t really have the drive to prove myself I ...

You called me after midnight Must have been three years since we last spoke I slowly tried to bring back The image of your face from the memories so old I tried so hard to follow But didn't catch the half of what had gone wrong Said "I don't know what I can save you from" I don't know what I can save you from I asked you to come over, and within half an hour You were at my door I had never really known you But I realized that the one you were before Had changed into somebody for whom I wouldn't mind to put the kettle on Still I don't know what I can save you from I don't know what I can save you from I don't know what I can save you from - Kings of Convenience, "I Don't Know What I Can save You From" ------ this is my 100th post, counting the entries where i just pasted some cockamamie lyrics from artists i have admired. i know, i'm getting obsessed with numerology, but i can't help it if the thousandth hit coincided with the ...

i don't get it. with all the things happening around me, events that catch me in a virtual maelstrom and lifting me to a writer's wet dream of existentialist experiences, i choose to devote this entry discussing a subject that is neither urgent nor uhm...er...original. nel is pretty much caught up on grey's anatomy. i keep finding holes in the plots and comparing it to my newest boob tube bonanza. House MD. Or House. Going back, it was fun to realize, thanks to wikipedia (here's a tip: surfing the web isn't all porn, yahoo, espn, and where to download mp3s, there's a whole world of information out there and there's weboggle!) that House is a TV version of the adventures of my other favorite literary character: Sherlock Holmes. System to get the right diagnosis - eliminate all the other symptoms. The one remaining, however improbable, has to be the right one. Interpersonal relations? Both suck at socials, unless there is a pressing need to get something from ...

i wanted to write a couple of entries, but somehow the spirit is willing but the fingers are fat and tired. must be from doing all that weboggle. it's seriously addicting, and trying to reach the top 10 is somewhat of an unending challenge. try it yourself by visiting here . anyway, the celebration of the 1000th hit to my blog is too good to pass up so here i am at 1 in the morning writing an entry. I know it's not much compared to hits from google or yahoo, but having my blog viewed a thousand times is more than an achievement for me. it's been a crazy week at work with all the activities going on that i surprise myself for not being burned out yet. i do admit i'm having too much fun to derive some sense of fatigue out of it. Muziklaban is over finally, and it was a blast for yours truly to have attended his first concert with a special all-access ID around his neck. That means i can eat all the food i want and go to all the restricted areas without some bouncer handl...

i must be dreaming. somebody shake me awake. somebody shake me loose. i saw my name on francis magalona's blog. i saw my face in francis magalona's blog. i read in francis magalona's blog that he's signing the shirt i've been lusting for and giving it to me. Out of his natural goodness. read it yourself. I don't deserve this. i am not worthy. i'm a lesser mortal, much a lesser fan. i'm a fiend who's more into the dark arts of guitar-driven alternative music, a confessed drinker, and one who watches Eat Bulaga! because my wife holds the remote control hostage during lunch on weekends. I honestly thought that by this time, all has been forgotten. I am humbled. I am grateful. I have transformed from being a fan of the artist to being a fan of the person. Can i scream with joy now?

(with help from Kevin Roy, Jake Yrastoza, Camille Portugal, Affie Carpio, and Reg Rubio) 1. You can sing songs with lyrics like "shit" and "fuck" and nobody gives a damn. 2. Nobody joins Muziklaban to escape poverty. No tearjerking interviews as well. 3. Original material is a must. Unlike pop shows where creativity is optional. 4. You don't have to look good, but you have to sound good. Plus, grooming is optional, whether the band or the audience. 5. No parents present. As managers or as members of the audience. Except those who left their kids at home. 6. Judges don't steal the show by making inane commentataries. 7. It's rock and roll. What else do you want? 8. Definitely and absolutely, no Barry Manilow. Whether as a cover or as a guest. 9. My ears are ringing throughout the show. But im happy. 10. Drinking beer is actually encouraged during the show. Why be the next idol when you can rock on?

Yesterday was supposed to be another ho-hum day where you alternately think about working, seriously think about working, and attending meetings to get off working. The afternoon proved much more interesting as I got to sit down with two of the country’s exciting and durable musical artists. First off was The Dawn, minus Carlos Balcells and plus legend in his own right new bassist Buddy Zabala. Imagine sitting in the same table and trying hard to fawn but to get some hard sound bites. After overcoming the shock and awe when faced with the legendary supergroup, I was able to chat amicably with each member, and despite my boxed questions, discovered that their most requested song was Build Me Up Buttercup and that given the permission to rework the lyrics, Francis Reyes would lead the group in a rendition of Dancing Kings. Also realized via Francis that Saturday Night Fever was a dark tale and not the glitzy all-white disco film we all take it for granted. Next stop was the iconic Franci...

i usually don't write for lack of material. Ergo, also the reason why i always crib from someone else's ideas for time to time. lately however, it's been the opposite, as a lot of things have been going on but somehow, i can't lift my fingers to do some typing. i guess it's easier to write when you're anguished rather than happy. yeah, yeah. pile on the excuses. had a monster game last night at basketball, something i haven't done for a while. it helped as i was playing with old friends rene and robin, plus new officemate/blood brother rolli. makes the game much easier if your teammates knew how to catch a ball and shoot accurately. rolli is pretty great at playing point, and creating his own shots. last night was different because my shots were still wild but were falling in. anyway, we demolished a team that consisted of the best in the tuesday night lot. We even dubbed it RP vs. Chinese Taipei. How's that for a little national pride? Guess they'll...

Here's to the crazy ones. The misfits. The rebels. The troublemakers. The round pegs in the square holes. The ones who see things differently. They're not fond of rules, and they have no respect for the status quo. You can praise them, disagree with them, quote them, disbelieve them, glorify them, or villify them. About the only thing you can't do is ignore them. Because they change things. They invent. They imagine. They heal. They explore. They create. They inspire. They push the human race forward. Maybe they have to be crazy. How else can you stare at an empty canvas and see a work of art? or sit in silence and hear a song that's never been written? or gaze at a red planet and see a laboratory on wheels? We make tools for these kings of people. because while some see them as the crazy ones, we...

Some mornings I hate more than others. Waking up at 6 am once a week to beat the cursed color coding scheme is one of the most dreaded things to do in the name of working for a living. Why do they call it color-coding anyway when they look at your plate number? If the name doesn’t make sense, it should be illegal and thus be banned. Anyway, I dread Tuesday mornings for a number of dread reasons. Being shouted at, nudged, slapped, or shaken awake is a bad start. Ok, so the eyes open, but the rest of your body didn’t get the message, so they just lie there quietly, waiting for your eyes to forget what it saw. Being an impartial judge, I always declare that when it comes to my body, the majority should always win. Unfortunately, Nel has managed to secure veto rights and is dragging me down the stairs at 6:10 am by my hair. Coding days will subject you to the real definition of breakfast: a piece of broken-down bread, which you have to eat fast. A complete, delicious or nutritious is a lux...

made a tactical mistake earlier by driving to UP for the 6 pm mass. the place is a virtual standstill, with all major buildings crawling with 4th year high school applicants all wanting to get in. yep, it's that time of the year for the much-awaited UPCAT. and i didn't even have enough sense to avoid the whole of diliman during this time. anyway, while we were driving aimlessly in the hopes of getting a fast lane, i saw this year's batch of hopefuls. since the exams were over, most of the faces i saw were of despair. i don't know the statistics right now, but i guess it's about 1 in 10 exam takers will be lucky to get in. And it's not even luck, but brains. Anxious parents, siblings and friends also littered the area, as they wait for their charges to climb back into the car and spend the next few months waiting for The Letter. That simple, computer generated letter containing 1 or 2 paragraphs telling you if you made it or not. rewind a decade and a half or so....

went out by my lonesome last friday night, as i had a job to do. My destination that night was a bit too extreme for nel who promptly requested to stay home, and my best friend backed out earlier. so i was left to observe the Red Horse Muziklaban elims at Mayric's. Last time i went to Mayric's the band was advent call and the beer was around 15 pesos a bottle. and those were the bad times. I arrived a bit before nine, and the place was already filled. it doesn't take much to book the entire bar, as it was one of the smallest functioning bars in Manila, but i think they did manage to pack in more people that night. My ID worked wonders as i managed to part the crowd and seat myself near the judges' table. Turned out that one of the judges was a good friend of mine from the production days. Finagled a couple of glasses of red horse (courtesy of the company of course) and proceeded to watch the show in relative peace. I didn't want to disturb the judges so much but i c...

Now and then Do you wash your hands off me again? Wish me anywhere but home Drunk and on the end of your phone From time to time Do you guess what's really on my mind? Guess that "How you keeping now?" Means "Where are you sleeping now" But of course it's not polite To ask you where you spent last night And if I did you might reply That I have no right And anyway I'm fine Glad that you're no longer mine If I should tell a lie I'll cross my heart and hope to die You'd be appalled If you knew what I was doing When you called Yes, I can see I'm blundering Always end up wondering Will it ever be alright To ask you where you spent last night And can it be polite The way we never write, Of course I don't have the time, And anyway I'm fine If I should tell a lie I'll cross my hear and hope to die EBTG, "Cross my Heart" ---- sigh! another one of those songs i wish i'd written. One of thos songs back in the 80s that used ...