Ice Carvings

Sigh! I just realized it's been ages since my last post but like I mentioned before, my life is way too much interesting to stop and write some of it down. Or maybe this blog is too valuable to ruin with the commonplace and the absurd. I miss hanging out with my blog but real life is getting in the way. Maybe if there's anything to blame for this current state of undocumentation, it has to be the book The Beach (please remove all pretensions that the movie taken from it is the same) by Alex Garland. It tells the story of how some people like to be on the forefront of discovery, and that the place to go is the place that has yet to be on the map. Richard, the protagonist and narrator who is an avid backpacker, said that he loathed bring cameras to his journey as the posed pictures often make a snapshot of something trivial during the journey and doesn't capture the essence of the trip. I guess I'd like to say the same about this blog but I do really need to stop more an...

“The depth of the field is too much for our athletes. But there’s nothing to be ashamed off. They did their best.”  - Olympics chief of mission Manny Lopez, commenting on the Philippines' performance so far at the London Olympics (from Inquirer news: "Down to 5 as archer Javier falls" August 3, 2012. http://www.inquirer.net ) Apart from the fact that I hope for god's sake it is the correspondent and not the chief of mission who misspelled "off" in the second sentence, this is yet another reflection on the sad state of Philippine athletics. I'm not saying anything but isn't this what you expect when we have sports programs run by bureaucrats who seem to prioritize attendance over performance.  I guess the only thing that gets my underwear in a twist is that matter-of-fact quote that "there's nothing to be ashamed of." Really? We had to go to the London Games to realize that? Aren't we supposed to know that 4 years ago in Beijing...

The Heat finally won over the Thunder earlier 4-1. That man played beyond expectations and really carried Miami towards the promised land... ...meh. I must admit they played a heck of a series and a monster playoffs. Hats off to a deserving winner. ..meh

Now and then I think of when we were together Like when you said you felt so happy you could die I told myself that you were right for me But felt so lonely in your company But that was love and it's an ache I still remember You can get addicted to a certain kinda sadness Like resignation to the end, always the end  So when we found that we could not make sense Well you said that we would still be friends But I'll admit that I was glad that it was over But you didn't have to cut me off  Make it like it never happened and that we were nothing  I don't even need your love, but you treat me like a stranger And that feels so rough No, you didn't have to stoop so low Have your friends collect your records And then change your number Guess that I don't need that though Now you're just somebody that I used to know Now you're just somebody that I used to know Now you're just somebody that I used to know Now and then I think of all ...

After 30 years of going back and forth, i finally solved my rubik's cube last night. Yes, i consulted some guides and finally understood some of the words in them, thereby seeing through the pattern. The experience is similar to be able to view the real world in a green matrix, albeit no bitchin' shades and trench coats. Now, it's just a matter of getting the algorithm down pat (as in memorized). With this remarkable triumph of the human spirit over IQ limitations comes the inevitable question: Now what? More importantly, so what? After a few decades, this accomplishment by itself, is more of a too-little, too-late effort. The last time the cube was cool, oversized shades were in vogue. But solving the cube was on my list, damnit, and i have prevailed. Never mind it took three decades, a google search and countless knockoffs. Now all i need to do is find the few people who actually know what a rubik's cube is... ...and who actually care.

(Note: This was supposed to be an epilogue for the previous post but then it took a life of its own. ) 2012 is purported to be the End of the World. Of course, some other dates were purported to be the end of the world, but hey, here we are. Why aren't you enjoying life instead of reading this blog? For generations past, there were a couple of non-specific end-of-the-world songs that would probably be a nice accompaniment while your world was literally crumbling down. REM had a catchy doomsday song, "It's the End of the World As We Know It (And I Feel Fine)" which alludes to a world (at least their world) spinning madly out of control. U2 was all emo-love gloom with their "Until the End of the World" ballad. Of course, there are countless others, and each seemed to symbolize what to do or how to look back when the sky is falling in front of you. As for 2012, I really hope it doesn't lead to Armageddon if only for the background music. It would be ...

Happy New Year! Here's to another round of promises, resolutions, and optimistic assessments as we look at 2012 as the year the wheel turns upward. Here's to critical thinking fueled by countdown champagne on things you'd like to change about yourself for the better. Apart from the usual suspects like fitness, diet, exercise, and work attitude, I got the inspiration for this year's mantra from a Youtube surfing session with my son. Tyring desperately to get him to sleep, I looked for a couple of vids that are entertaining, eductional and would hold both our interest. The answer: Sesame Stree classic videos. What hit me hardest was Ernie's enchanting ditty about going far away: Well, I'd like to visit the moon On a rocket ship high in the air Yes, I'd like to visit the moon But I don't think I'd like to live there Though I'd like to look down at the earth from above I would miss all the places and people I love So although I might like...

This is a first. While working on routine paperwork filing critical to jumpstarting every Monday, something odd happened. Reaching in my drawer absentmindedly and without a cursory glance, i realized that i have achieved something that very few office folk experience. I ran out of paper clips. Seriously, how can one run out of paper clips? Staple wires i can understand, but paper clips? Is there anything else less regulated than these pieces of twice-bent wires? Has anybody ever been accused of hoarding paper clips even if they have way too much? Since everybody else was out at this time, i managed to swipe some off my co-worker's desk. I think when left alone, her stock of paper clips multiply on their own, so I guess she wouldn't notice. Now back to work

I'm hung over... From Ad Congress. Not from the usual effects of alcohol during the parties at the venue. It would take a lot of free alcohol to get me wasted... and i know a lot about free alcohol. I guess I also know a lot about being wasted, but that's just another blog entry waiting to happen. Seventeen years after I told my future first boss that I'll be pursuing a career in advertising, I'm still outside looking in. Back then when i was working part time as a cub writer, he never showed any inclination in hiring me full time. When i finally asked why, he told me he was expecting me to follow my declaration of going into agency work. When i told him I'm not really in a hurry, he hired me on the spot. Seventeen years of work involving writing followed. Macs, mainframe software, advocacy, company profiles, real estate, mechanical engineering, drugs, and now beer and all its trappings. On top of my regular job at PR and whatever the hell is it i'm supposed to ...

having prided myself with never having to file for sick leave my whole career here at the Escudo, a couple of bacteria and/or viruses banded together and beat the crap out of me via low risk pneumonia. Which prevented me from going on a trip to Cebu, and prevented me from doing my annual tradition as live score guy at the Beer Drinking finals, and from getting drunk in a Visayan crowd. 4 years and 4 months later, i had to seek the medical slip. some streaks were never meant to last. Having coughed out my lungs for the past 3 days, I'm not complaining. I already envisioned the mass hysteria developing inside the 9am MNL-CEB flight as soon as fellow travelers begin to sympathize with my symptoms. Despite the cocktail of drugs i was given as consolation prize, the recovery was slow as i was subjected to an incessant video festival of Elmo's world episodes, courtesy of new king of the Wild Things Elan. It's really hard to calm your nerves when you keep hearing that maniacal psy...

ah.. 38 is such a special number. Ask Smith & Wesson. Half a month into my half-life stage and i still have nothing to show for it. IF my life would flash before my eyes prior to the collision, what would it show? Probably my last few PowerPoint presentations. I can hear the eulogy now... "He was a monster with those slides!" But I digress. I'm 38 years old. It might not be old, but that's not young. And at 38, life has beaten me into submission. Gone are the grandiose plans, the oaths to turn this world to its knees through a combination of talent, luck and ambition. The drive to write the next great potboiler, the next immortal poem, the year's best screenplay. Again, PowerPoint rears its ugly head into the visuals...shit. I'm not complaining though. I'm better off. And only because i worked my ass off. So now, bills are a source of amusement rather than a dreadful thing. Of course, this doesn't mean I'm rich now. But we'll get there. I...

Was able to watch DVDs today, after letting my home theater lie idle the past few months. Brought out two big guns from my collection: Jarhead and Rocknrolla and mustered enough effort to distance myself from my son and escape in cinema. After a short stint at the supermarket and a brief dinner, I rolled out my new addition: Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. I should have watched this a long time ago, having heard of its charm, but lack of availability until today prevented me from doing so. It was total mindfuck. I was completely immersed in the film, wondering whether this scene was all in the mind, a real occurrence, or a fantasy projection. And it had me thinking if ever such technologies existed, would you dare to wipe your memory of certain persons completely to erase the bitter taste in your mouth of previous bad experiences? Of course wiping out the bad means also wiping out the good. It turned out in the movie that wiping out memories of one person is not a guarantee of p...

I just spent over an hour watching (intently if I may say) Animal Planet's Mermaids: A Body Found. The documentary starts with an interesting premise that US navy underwater experiments may have been the cause for a lot if whale beachings and that it may have killed a previously unknown species that is more man than marine mammal. Show then proceeds to give evidence to the existence of mermaids, complete with cgi animations to give us a look. Spoiler: they look like green avatar humanoids with fish tails. Anyway, I was hooked, and began watching more intently, unmindful of the fact that it was eating up my JackTV time. I even managed to have nel watch, which she did enthusiastically while humming bars from The Little Mermaid. I got hooked, especially on the conspiracy part where it seems that some agency was trying to shut down the team who discovered the mermaids. Even if they only have sound recordings and a partially digested specimen. Then, during the end credits, all was revea...

Honestly, why do some people end their request with some asinine clincher such as: "Sige na. Pogi ka naman eh." I know it's supposed to be flattering at face value (especially if you aren't unattractive), but that statement poses a lot of unanswered questions: 1. Does that mean the asking party acknowledges he/she is unpretty, and thus his/her disadvantage requires more attractive people give in to their request? 2. Does that mean good looks beget compassion? 3. Are ugly people supposed to get what they want from better looking ones (I can imagine the sex implications on this one)? 4. Are the merits of the request secondary to appearance of the requester? 5. Aren't I supposed to be working instead of asking these questions? I guess I'll just leave it to this dude for the final word: "It is amazing how complete is the delusion that beauty is goodness." - Leo Tolstoy Epilogue: Wouldn't it be more exciting if we expand the concept use the same devic...

writing while watching top chef, downing shots of Chivas, and smoking an e-cigarette somehow doesn't work all that well. I can almost hear the judges of top chef giving me a rejoinder: just desserts telling me: "The idea was there, but i think you should have thought of this more..." i blow a large billow of vapor (not smoke i guess)... the hell with it. I have no expectations at this point, and the 3rd shooter is making its way to my consciousness. A newspaper article earlier kinda hit home: February seemingly breezed by 2011, and here i am, trying to come up with a blog entry at the homerun stretch. 2011 has been very kind to me, as opposed to that callous, cruel 2010. I really don't give a rat's ass about zodiac signs and horoscopes, but like a chinoy friend told me -- it's 50/50. And somehow, this year really was better - in the cards and in real life. i really just have to temper my expectations. but yeah, so far so good.

why is it so hard to find a bag of Skittles Chocolate mix in this side of the planet? I'm not even a candy addict, much less a chocoholic. But the idea of messing around with small spheres of S’mores, Chocolate Pudding, Chocolate Caramel, Vanilla and Brownie Batter is too much to resist. Arrgh. I have unfortunately tasted the forbidden fruit once, and it's not available anywhere i look. SM. Clark. Rustan's. Maybe if i try hard, i'll get what i need. which in my case, would be peanut butter candy. Sigh.

funny how when you buy toys for your kids, you pick two things: 1. The toys you enjoyed as a kid, especially those with much improved features. we're talking about three decades of research and development, so they're bound to get cooler. or 2. The toys you wanted before but you were either too poor, too old, or too clumsy to get. I got elan a toy biplane for Christmas, one held together by lug nuts and comes with a power screwdriver. Despite the fact that the kid is barely a year, and this toy is designed for 3 years old and up, i still wanted him to have it, as i was afraid that by the time he's 3, it wouldn't be on the market anymore. I got a similar toy back when i was three or four and instead of a power screwdriver, came with a plastic wrench. I'd spend hours playing mechanic, making plane noises and alternately assembling and disassembling the plane without even considering the damn thing was too fat that it wouldn't fly at any point. It was fun...

With only a few days before 2k11, yours truly is proud to say that he survived 2010 bruised, battered and with a renewed lust for life. How can i mix such polar opposites in one sentence? It's pretty much simple: Things are gonna get better. Not bound to get better, but will get better. Over the years, i have grown to accept that most of my injuries - physical and otherwise, are of the self-inflicted kind, it would be fun to take a different mindset, especially if you're fast approaching 40, with a year-old son who has already usurped your title as King of the Curious. Part of the solution is straightforward. I'm not saying its easy, but it's not rocket science either: Let things go. While it's fun to probe and analyze and reverse engineer, it's even fun to just savor the moment. That way, I avoid making me... (lead into song..) Can we forget about the things I said when I was drunk? I didn't mean to call you that. I can't remember what was said or what ...

time flies when you're a slave to the grind. It's been a month since my last post and it felt like it was just yesterday. Yet the losing streak continues. I should really stop talking about the kings due to two things: 1. When they're on a roll, i invariably hex them into a nosedive. 2. When they're into a nosedive, they dive even more. Just good luck, you jerks. My Lakers-fan of a brother has long since stopped trash talking me out of indifference. --- Raffles. Ah, the momentary escape of the masses where each ticket holder is given a statistical chance of winning something big in exchange for the price of something small. I hate raffles. Last week's events gave me a chance to win the following: 1. Netbook. 2. 19-in LCD TV 3. Nokia C3 cellphone 4. Digital camera. 5. Beer tower 6. 741 million pesos It's bad enough that i already feel like the miserable wretch that i am on a daily basis, but not winning anything in 3 raffles (lotto, plant raffle, and sales raffl...

Conversely (see previous blog entry), i achieved something that has been simmering under competitive fires for over 3 plus years now. I am part of the champion team of the Tuesday Basketball Club one-night tournament. And it happened with me joining the most underrated team in the 4-team special. And they won despite me! Being one of the senior members and the only one yet to win this once-in-a-while tournament, it felt good to finally nail one W down. Considering that i was robbed twice by buzzer beaters in previous events, including the most asinine game review ever: video reviews supposedly confirmed the opponent's shot came in as the horn sounded. When i went to watch the video the other guys took, the disputed shot in its entirety was totally covered by one of the players backside. But i'm not bitter anymore about that. The sweet laurel of victory is mine to cherish, until at least the next tournament scheduled early next year. ---- This is a crappy blog post. I guess I...