The Unemployed Jejemon

CONGRATULATIONS GRADUATES!!
sobrang saya ng gabe na too XD
mamimisx cu kayo
ingat kau plageh
out na poh acu
aga cu pa bukas ei

THAT, my dear friends is a glaring example of how deteriorated students’ communication skills have become. Credit goes to the girl (who shall remain anonymous lest the grammar police starts hunting her down) who authored those lines.

March has always been the month of graduations in the Philippines and traditionally, most graduates venture out into the next steps in their lives full of hopes and dreams. High school kids become college freshmen while college graduates start job hunting – both hoping that they land a good job who will pay them lots and lots of moolah.

THAT AIN’T HAPPENING AND YOU VERY WELL KNOW WHY.

Being the head of Human Resources, I have the lovely pleasure of meeting throngs of people hoping to get a job. And it pains me to see how year after year, the quality of graduates get poorer and poorer. Even from the most basic things like conversing and writing down answers to the most simple questions, they fail.

Me: “How would you like me to call you?” Applicant: “Cellphone, Sir” Me: *sigh*
Me: “Why did you take up Management?” Applicant: “Because I want to manage, Sir” Me: *sigh*
Me: “When you worked at McDonald’s, what was the most challenging experience you had?” Applicant: (Pauses to think) “Uhm, Sir when I was at the counter and the customer, he fucked me” Me: *faints*

For the record, all of those stories are true, including the last one. Turns out, she was at the counter and a furious customer told her “fuck you!”

You see, this may seem funny to some people but the sad reality is that so many people have very poor communication skills. They could hardly converse their thoughts and can’t even compose a decent, grammatically correct sentence. They can’t even get the forms right, for God’s sake!

Who referred you to our company? – Guard (turns out she walked in and asked the guard)
Color of Eyes: – Black and white (yes, somebody actually answered that)

I do not believe that there is a shortage of jobs in this country. There are plenty of jobs. It’s just that many of the people who apply for the jobs are really substandard. I often wonder how someone could have earned a college diploma and yet be totally inadequate. Here are my theories:

1. Everyone lowers their standards. If a student fails, the teacher makes him “pasang awa”. Kasi kawawa naman sya. Kasi mahirap lang yan and walang pera ang magulang. This kind of mentality is NOT HELPING THE STUDENT. People fail because they fail. People fail because they didn’t learn anything. If a person doesn’t learn anything, he has no business moving up. The tolerance for mediocrity teaches kids that they need not even attempt to achieve things because somewhere out there, somebody will take pity on them. This kind of mentality pushes them deeper and deeper into the bad situation they’re already in

2. People in the academe have minimal or zero corporate experience. The teachers themselves have no friggin idea on the demands of today’s businesses. Sure they’re trained on “the latest teaching methodologies” and “up to date concepts on their subject matter”, but do they even know how their subjects are applied in the real world? Take algebra for instance. Every single student hates it with a vengeance and their common sentiment is, “what use will this be when I get a job”. If there’s a teacher who gave anyone a concrete, sensible answer to this, let me know. Also, while we’re in the subject, look at the examples given during lessons: “Guy in boat is going down the river in x km/hr. If the river is y kilometers long, how long will it take to reach the end of he river.” FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, WHY WOULD YOU EXPECT YOUR STUDENTS TO KNOW HOW LONG IT WOULD TAKE WHEN NO ONE IN YOU CLASS IS LIKELY TO MEET A GUY WHO ROWS A BOAT DOWN THE RIVER?!? GET BACK TO REALITY WOMAN!

3. Technology has made things worse. With the advent of mobile communications and social networking sites, it has become common to at least have a facebook account. Nowadays, Facebook is where trends are born. And the horror of horrors is that if it’s in facebook, people assume it’s the in thing, therefore it’s cool. Take that girl who I quoted. She spells that way because all of her friends write that way. And since all of her friends are in facebook, people who see them talking this way would assume that this is the norm and therefore follow suit. And then, even their parents and teachers who are also in facebook see it and, well they simply don’t care enough to tell these poor, misguided souls that what they’re doing is actually diminishing them. We can’t blame the kids, what do they know? See the cycle?

So there you have it, dear graduates. It’s a painful and seemingly hopeless situation. Unless by some miracle, somebody who reads this gets a lightbulb moment and decides to do something, then we’re totally screwed.

Good jobs go to people who are qualified. Call me heartless but as far as I’m concerned, your diploma means nothing to me, especially if you can’t even tell me how you want me to call you.

Ice Creams and Racists

I normally don’t do a lot of rant posts but every now and then I come across topics that I just can’t keep myself from commenting on.

Let’s start with a craze right now – MAGNUM. Yes, that sinfully good ice cream bar that makes you think that everything’s gonna be all right. I saw someone post on Facebook that apparently, some people call it “the social climber’s ice cream”. Why they said that is beyond me. How could eating ice cream be social climbing? One could argue that since it’s the in thing these days to eat it, people are merely celebrating how wonderful it is. I wouldn’t consider it social climbing if say, someone took a picture of themselves eating it and posting it online. So I’m still at a loss why it’s called that. The meanie in me of course would respond by rolling my eyes, sighing and expressing my exasperation on what some people consider as “sosyal”

Another hot topic these days is the Azkals versus Arnold Clavio brouhaha. I saw the clip and I can say that Arnold and his co-hosts appears to have disdain over 1. Half-Filipinos and 2. Good looking men and 3. Women’s discretions. Why does Arnold say that the team aren’t really Filipinos because their skin isn’t brown enough or because the didn’t grow up here? I don’t get it. It’s a classic case of “if it’s positive, they’re Pinoy, if not we disown them”. When the team as making headlines successfully representing the country in all these matches, we (including Arnold for sure) proudly proclaimed them as one of us. And now that a scandal looms over them, they’re now white trash? That’s pretty shallow, don’t you think? Watching the video further, the hosts seem to have a thing against good looking people. You can tell by their inflection that they seem to think that good looking people are generally up to no good. Why? Scorned lovers? Unrequited love? Why? Lastly, I was particularly annoyed by the statement that most women tend to drop all reasoning when confronted by a gorgeous man. There are simply too many things wrong with that statement. All in all, the hosts I think have been too irresponsible in their comments. Sure it was their opinion and they’re entitled to it. But then the bad thing was they are opinion leaders and giving out statements that doesn’t seem like much thought have been put into it, is just sad. Pathetic, even.

Lastly, I saw the 20 Things I Hate About The Philippines and well, I think the narrator needs to visit other parts of the country before he makes sweeping statements. I mean, yes there is a certain degree of truth to his statements but then it doesn’t show the whole picture. Also, he should at least have the decency to ask for an explanation from an educated Filipino why there are things that he finds weird and yet we do it here. Take the case of the proliferation of security guards. It’s a response to all the safety threats the the establishments are getting. Or that one where he says drivers keep beeping their horns. Correct me if I’m wrong but doesn’t the beeping a form of greeting among motorists? Does he know that? I think somebody should smack the poor guy in the head and remind him that he is not in the US nor in a first world country. If he hates the Philippines as much he says he does, he should just pack up and leave. Somebody should tell him that that kind of condescending attitude is actually the reason why there’s plenty of Anti-American propaganda out there.

That was a mouthful. The power of words indeed.

Seconds

OK, firstly this isn’t going to take long. I’m typing using just one hand, while the other is holding this iPad sideways. Why? Cause I’m blogging while in bed. Yes, I too get amazed by how weird I could get.

Yesterday was kind of eventful for me in my virtual world. Logged on to facebook and voila, a picture of my niece locking lips with an “undesirable” jumps off the screen. Fuming, I gave her a few choice words and she eventually took it down. That ended up with a long overdue discussion about how she is the product of two very irresponsible parents and that if she doesn’t get her priorities straight, she would end up just like them.

Yeah we got family drama too. But you know what, I believe in second chances. I believe my niece will pull through this. If I don’t let go, I’ll be able to steer her away from the mistakes she will surely make out of uninformed choices.

So now I’m doing the work that my own brother is inadequate for.

Valentines Schmalentines

Ah. Valentine’s Day. One of the most commercially-exploited days of the year, capitalizing on a culture where fancy dinner dates and giving over-priced chocolates and flowers are obligatory.

I had my share of stories from past V-Days, but two actually stood out from the rest

The Day Grimace Destroyed Valentine’s Day

Picture this: It was Valentine’s Day and I had plans. And my most heartless boss of all time refused to let me leave the office. Mind you, I wasn’t even asking to go out earlier than I should. I just wanted to leave on time so I could run to that restaurant where my date and I had reservations. That evil witch went on and on about a project that’s not even due for at least two weeks, not considering that unlike her, people have lives outside of the office. I wouldn’t have minded if it was any other day, but the fact it was fucking Valentines Day and I had a hot date. I wanted to pull her hair and slam her face against our lime green walls. Good thing though, my date waited and we made it a night to remember. Fireworks, baby! LOL

Black Hearted Me

I think it was the eve of Valentine’s Day of 2002 and I did one of the most horrible things any guy could do – I broke up with my then girlfriend. To add salt to the wound, I told her exactly why – ’cause I got back together with my ex. And it gets worse – I told her it’s better that I tell her straight instead of hiding it, and cheating on her. I was such an asshole. Yeah, I know it was stupid and I was a jerk. I admit to that. To this day I never forget the look on her face. I literally heard her heart break. I promised myself I will never ever do that to anyone again. Proud to say, I kept that promise.

Now what about this Valentine’s Day? Will it be as epic as those two? Let’s strip and see.

The Druid In The Storm

My interest in gaming started in the early 90′s when my sister got me into Diablo 2. I found the game to be quite fascinating, especially my class of choice – the druid. For those who never played the game, druids summon wolves, crows, creepy poison vines, creates tornados and volcanic fissures out of thin air. Pretty cool, huh.

That then led me to start reading about the lore of druidism, the shamans and worshippers of nature. True, that isn’t the typical reading material you would expect from a teenager, but all those stuff that I read made me see things in a different light. Recognizing the neutrality and balance of nature gives one a different perspective on things and leading to a less stressful and better life.

How? One of the key concepts is accepting things as the way things are meant to be. Life and death, creation and destruction, night and day, cause and effect. The list goes on and on. By accepting that things happen because that’s the way things are supposed to go gives one the ability to choose the better options.

Say you were on your way home and it rained and you were caught without an umbrella. Sure it’s infuriating that your fancy shoes will get wet, but what can you do? You can either stand there, get soaked and curse the rain or just walk under it and get home. Your priority is to get home, right? Why linger in the misery when you can simply accept that you can’t tell the rain when to fall?

One of our cats chewed on the wires of my home theater system, making one of the speakers lose its output. Of course I wanted to strangle the damn thing but then, what good will it do? No matter how smart my cats are, they will never know how expensive appliances are. To them it’s just a piece of wire dangling seductively for them to play with. You can’t change that. That’s their nature.

So in a nutshell, I try to live like a druid in the storm, accept that maelstroms come, but they don’t stay. They bring destruction, yes. But always, whatever gets destroyed will always be rebuilt. That’s how nature intends things to be.

And that’s also why I was named Dru

I Walked The Walk

This exact moment is one of those times when I suddenly stay still and look at the road behind me. All the things that have happened to me through the years and how each and every decision I made led me to where I am today.

The many times I’ve been invited to speak to a student group, I always make it a point to tell them that life outside of the university is so much different than when you’re in it. And how as early as one’s senior year in high school, you need to make good choices to make sure you lead up to a better life than what you have now.

I graduated from one of the country’s premier high schools and tradition dictates that graduates from our school should enroll in any of the top four universities. Never considered two due to cost reasons and so I tried for UP. I was so confident that I would pass the UPCAT that I never bothered to take advantage of certain “safety nets”. Plus there was this girl I was crazy about who lived near UP so all I saw was more time to be spent with her. Results came out and voila, I failed. That has got to be one of the most profoundly humbling experiences in my life. Oh well, there’s still another school. I ended up not enrolling that year because of my pride. I was a smart kid who stupidly thought high IQ was all you need in this world. NOT.

A year passed and I got a scholarship. I was eyeing this and that school and as it turned out, I didn’t have much of a choice as the Project Director pretty much dictated where I would go, what course I would take. I gave it a shrug and was off. Turns out that was a turning point in my life which would lead me to a very happy college life and meeting the one girl I would love the most in this world.

But that story will be told some other time.

Somebody Else’s Thoughts

We all have pasts. Some more colorful than others but we all have it. It’s kind of nice when you have a vivid imagination and can set up a back story to some random person you see somewhere.

Guy in blue enters Starbucks, looks around then falls in line at the counter.

========================================

They’ve been going out for two weeks. Met this girl through a friend from Accounting. She’s hot, at least for him. He’s not so bad looking himself. Quite a looker actually, when you realize it.

They went out for two dates, first was to see the month’s blockbuster romcom and the second was to help her buy a couple of presents for her nephews and nieces. During that date, she tells him that perhaps he should come over for dinner instead so he could meet her family.

Whoa. Big deal. This is good, right?

So he agreed. Went to their house in Marikina. Met the charming mom and the two kids. Had a great time exchanging stories over dinner. He never felt so at ease with a family he barely knew. He decided to stay after dinner and play some more with the kids while his girl watched him, eyes twinkling. He looks at her and thinks, this could be it. The start of something different from what he had in the past. An actual mature relationship where both of them want something a little more long-term. Seeing the kids enjoy the toys they bought while casually putting an arm around her makes him feel like this is the kind of future he would like to have. No more running away after a night of partying and waking up next to that girl he was standing next to while waiting for a cab.

He said goodbye feeling so elated. She gave him a peck on the cheek as he walked to the main road. He grinned from ear to ear.

Half an hour later, he was at Starbucks. Looked for an empty table, placed his bag and went to the counter. A latte would be nice on a night like this.

Phone beeped.

I had a great time. I’ll see you soon, babe

Typed.

Me too. I love you

Smile. Press send.

Phone beeped.

Babe, where are you?

Phone beeped.

Baby woke me up. Where are you? Need to be early at work tomorrow. Text back, babe.

Guitar Gods and a Sparkling Goddess

Tonight a couple of my friends are watching Grammy Award-winning band Train and one of them even got the chance to get up on stage. How cool is that?

2011 was a good year for me when it came to concerts. I got to see three of the biggest acts which came to Manila and up to now I still haven’t fully recovered from all the excitement I felt.

First was Irish super band The Script. Though I was a fan, I was on the fence on seeing their show. Sure the lads were fantastic but I wasn’t sure if I was willing to shell out so much, considering that I was anticipating expensive tickets for Maroon 5. Then the bet came. Some hottie (at least for me) who will remain un-named dared me to buy Lower Box tickets and be the “date” for the night. DISCLAIMER: it was a platonic, non-romantic yet thoroughly enjoyable night. I’ve never seen the big dome packed with this many people. My knees literally went weak when I heard Nothing and Science and Faith live.

I loved Maroon 5 the first time I ever heard them. At the time, Adam Levine was just this scrawny guy fronting an unknown band. Who would have thought that they would eventually emerge as one of the best and biggest bands today. The show was nothing less than electric. They really know how to put on a performance. SMX as a venue was far from ideal (whoever thought of turning a big room riddled with pillars into a concert venue is an idiot). I practically watched on the monitor and contented myself with the live sound. My throat got so hoarse singing along.

And of course, let’s save the best for last – Kylie. IT WAS MAGICAL. Sure it was on the opposite end of the spectrum compared to the first two but by sheer production value, Aphrodite wins by a mile. How can anyone go wrong with all the naked bodies flying around the stage? Apart from the show on stage, it was also quite an experience watching the audience. It was like a disco ball exploded. Everyone was dressed to the nines! It was too bad though that they weren’t able to do all the effects like how they did it in the London show, but hey, I can’t complain. Ticket prices, though quite steep, was soooo worth it.

Dirty Little Freaks

They are known by many names. Bitches, perverts, alcoholics, corporate slaves, demon scum, divas, drama queens, to name a few. But for me, I just call them my friends.

The thing about this world is, no matter how cruel it could be, your bound to find people who will be your angels in this life. They’re not your siblings and yet you share a bond that’s strong and often functionally dysfunctional (you know what I mean, I’m sure). Amazing, isn’t it?

In our group we are all equally damaged, neurotic and brutally honest. We also love sex (especially Ms. York).  Funny thing is, people might see that these qualities are not admirable factors to consider in friends but hey, it works for us.

There will always be a time when one of us would have major dramas in our lives and the rest would just hug that person then tell him/her how stupid they are for getting into that mess. They’d even laugh when you say you’re sad. Cruel, right? But then when you think about it, that’s the hallmark of true friends. People who take you for who you are, tell you in your face what the fuck is wrong with you and then plunges into the pain with you with no questions asked. What more can you ask for in this life?

I think that we are all here in this world to make it a better place. And you do that by loving people for who they are. No ifs, no buts. You don’t get to choose siblings but you do choose your friends. And I think I made a good choice for having mine

 

No Fear, No Thoughts, No Reservations

Have you ever been asked why you love someone? Like when you’re together with someone and they ask you why you fell in love with them? Or the other way around – you asked them why they loved you?

Why do we need to know? What difference does it make? What if you don’t know why? Like, you know, it just happened.

A couple of minutes ago, a friend of mine tweeted that no matter how much you’ve been hurt in the past, you should still continue to love. The jaded side of me thought, is love worth all the hurt? Is it still love if you forego self-preservation and just take whatever hurt comes your way?

Why does it seem like we all need some form of justification when it comes to these things? Can’t we be happy with just the idea of love with no rhyme nor reason? Why think about something that was intended to be felt? Would knowing the why intensify the feeling? What if asking too many why’s would lead you to see the cracks? Isn’t it appealing to be consumed by love with no fear, no thought, no reservations?

Sometimes I think too much… I think.

Knives

While most people consider other harsher ways of coping with devastating things that happen in their lives, there are those of us who are lucky enough to have coping mechanisms that kick in instantly after such ordeals. Well, having a kind of healing ability like Wolverine comes in really handy when you went through hell and back.

But how do we deal with matters that shook you like no other?

1. CRY. Yeah I know it’s such a sissy option but hey, if it unburdens you, why not? Actually, based on experience I think it’s one of the most relieving things you could possibly do. Instead of bottling things up, just let it all out. It’s like draining all the hurt out so you could rid yourself of it, at least for longer periods.
2. HATE. Of course you hate it, him, her, the world in general. Life can be so unfair – and nothing highlights this more than falling so hard for a six-foot pile of shit who pretended to be a decent specimen of a human being. There is however a “trashy hate” and a “classy hate” – go for the latter. Maintain poise, civility and your sense of appropriateness. Learn the art of crafting witty insults and throw it like freshly-sharpened knives
3. STICK TO IT. I personally have low esteem for people who get their hearts stomped on and seem to get temporary memory loss and decide to go back (obviously to get more punishment). Why go back to  say, an emotional fuckwit with a stethoscope, when all they want is to suck you back into a world of verbal baits and broken promises. If they want you out, shove it up their flabby asses.

 

So the lesson is, shit happens. Rise above the shit and never look back.

Spellbreaker

The thing about love is… ah fuck love.

For the record this isn’t a post about bitterness. It’s more of seeing the light after being so consumed by love and not realizing things for what they really are. How could anyone put another human being through repeated torture of a heartbreak and still dangle baits to keep you hoping that things could still turn around?

And it gets worse. There you were, recuperating from the last wave of crushing emotional lashes, and you get doses of more emotional challenges from the same person as if trying to see if you could take any more punishment. What else is there to prove? Isn’t going through all that enough? How insensitive, hurtful and just downright cruel.

Eventually it will get to a point where you will snap out of it and realize it’s simply not worth it. Like a splash of cold water on the face. Or that big bitch slap from the universe that gets you back to your senses.

NOTHING is worth taking on too much emotional fuckwittage.

Reprieve

It’s always a tough realization to face – despite being shattered, the world will go on as if nothing happened. People walk by, not even bothering to give a second glance at this guy who was stupid enough to get his heart got ripped off and trampled on. Lost in the music, hiding behind a poker face. Friends crack jokes and he smiles. He laughs.

For that brief moment he forgets. Then it all comes back again.

A World In Glass

Sometimes you really can’t help but wonder how people actually see your value in their lives. On one side of the spectrum you’re absolutely elated how somebody’s world literally revolves around you. The kind where you just feel so special, so important. The kind where you yourself feel that nothing else matters in the world other than this wonderful happiness that seem to flow in you.

And then there’s the other side of the coin. The one where you become nothing but a disposable aspect of one’s life. The one where you feel like you’re not worth anything and that no matter how hard you try, you will never matter.

The even sadder part is when that one person who lifted you so high up would also be the one who would drop you like a hot potato. It’s ironic isn’t it, when the person who comprises your whole world is the same one who would destroy it.

I like that word. Shattered. When something really bad happens and you just feel like everything about you crumbles into pieces. Like glass that’s been smashed. And no matter how hard you tried to stop it, the glass gets smashed.

There is no point in holding on to anything.

Party Crasher, Panty Snatcher

It was love at first listen. The first time I heard “There You Go”, I knew I was gonna be a fan forever.

Alecia Beth Moore brought something to the table that not a lot of artists could – guts and talent. She makes it okay to be yourself – not that other artists ever tried doing that. But the thing is, the bluntness and honesty of it makes you really believe that the world can go fuck itself, as long as you’re happy being you. Validation is all shit. Pardon the expletives. People who disagree, go run to your room ’cause you’re about to be beaten up.

It’s all about expression. In her music and her fashion. She’s simply awesome.

I thank Pink for making me feel like I’m  so cool.

Here are my top Pink picks:

Like, how cool is it to run a bike through the window of a bastard? Who does that?

I love this one ’cause really, stupid girls (or people in general) have no place in this world

To everyone who bullied me as a kid, one day, I’ll do this. I just need to get a horse first LOL

This one’s the most played song on my iTunes – the anthem for dirty little freaks like me

And to celebrate the love, here are a few looks to get that Pink vibe going.

Raise Your Pink by sizzlingbanana featuring leather gloves

Pink Punk by sizzlingbanana featuring skull rings

Pink Troubles by sizzlingbanana featuring a victorian necklace

Choice

Choose to leave.

Choose to love.

Choose to leave to love.

Choose love or leave a love.

Choose love and stay

Choose.

Just choose.

 

Super Love

Save for the fashion advice and stuff, I never really wrote anything else for the past year. I guess it’s time to go back to what I always wanted this blog to be – a pensieve.

Have you ever thought of what it would be like to fall in love with a superhero? Like, how did Lois Lane or Mary Jane Watson did it? Falling for someone whose regular routine involves saving some random person’s life.

You lived your happy life doing whatever then boom, you fell head over heels with someone who’s waaaaay out of your league. Someone who makes every other person you loved seem so inferior. Someone who is quite unlike anyone you ever met, let alone loved. How do you deal with that?

All the great romantics say that the greatest loves usually entail the greatest sacrifice. Yeah, that could be true. What people needed to give up for love. Loving a superhero means you’re always on the sidelines because there are obviously more important things than the thrills, the romance. Ironically, the romance that feeds the greatest love is often absent. Did Lois ever felt left out? Did MJ cry when she realized  they couldn’t even go out to dinner because well,  schedule doesn’t permit it. Or that they can’t take a vacation together because the world always needs someone to fucking save it. They know they couldn’t because they shouldn’t.

It really is amazing to fall in love. To be swept off your feet, hoping your hero doesn’t drop you. It would be nice to have the hero to just quit what they’re doing for just a day so it would all be just  the two of you. But then that would be selfish and then the world would just hate you.

A Matter of National Importance – Sharon’s Weight.

What is happening to us? Sharon’s weight a matter of national debate? It’s like being back in the 90′s!

I am not a photographer, nor a graphic artist. However I know about fashion and how to create “illusions” using clothes and accessories and the image in question is proof that it is indeed, in a way, an illusion – however not to the extent that some people are claiming.

Prominent photographer Mr. Raymond Isaac has been accused by some uninformed yet (hopefully) intelligent people about the alleged over-editing of Sharon Cuneta’s photos for the Marie Claire billboard. Some even said as proof countering these claims, he should show the “raw photo” I don’t know if this is a dare or morbid curiosity on their part but WHAT THE HELL?!?

I stand by Mr. Isaac on this. He is right, not a single fashion photograph is an actual “raw photo” for even the top supermodels need airbrushing here and there. Looking at the pictures, key elements gave Sharon that look: Hair, Clothes, Belt and Makeup:

• Hair – side parts make faces (especially an already round one) look even rounder. Center parts, especially with the hair framing her face like that give the illusion of a narrower face
• Clothes – she’s wearing looser clothes in the “before” photo. Any reliable stylist would tell us, loose clothes do not work for heavier body types because it creates the illusion of volume. Skinnier models are made to wear loose, gathered, and/or ruffled clothes to give more volume. Also, she has a v-necked top as opposed to the scoop/round neck “before” – this has a slimming effect.
• Belt – notice the belt. Does it go all the way round her waist? It goes through the blouse. Light belt on dark top. From afar it will really look like that’s how tiny her waist is – which is exactly the intention while she was styled this way.
• Pose – If you will look closely, her breasts are of the same size in both photos. It is a known scientific fact that breasts are made of fat tissues ergo if a woman drastically loses weight, fat tissues – like those in her breasts – would be one of the first to go. Double chin on the original? There is a posing technique where you push your head forward so as to give yourself a virtual facelift when photographed. This I learned from Oprah and apply it myself – trust me it works.

So there it is. As far as I am concerned, her stylists made her skinny. Add the talent of Mr. Isaac and voila – sexy megastar. And just for effect, may I just point out that these things are what’s keeping a multi-billion dollar industry – fashion, advertising, and media – alive.

Please don’t go hating on talented people like him. Let’s all be honest here, if we have the means and reasons, wouldn’t we all want good pictures in the end?

Fashion and Beyond, Designers are the Gods

Let’s hit it straight between the eyes: Do brands really matter?

It’s not unusual for me to go out and help a friend shop for clothes. In today’s retail therapy, we got to talking about brands and how people perceive, use and abuse it. Filipinos in general are brand fanatics. We obsess on labels. It doesn’t matter if it’s a knock-off as long as the brand is there. Well here’s my two-cents on style and brands:

1. There’s nothing like the real thing. I would rather wear an unknown brand or even something unbranded from an obscure used clothing store rather than buy/use fake. And how would you know if it’s fake? If the price is too good to be true. Branded items are expensive for several reasons – material, make, importation costs, marketing are just some. Designer brands are obscenely expensive because a lot of these i.e. Ferragamo, Hermes are made from exotic materials and are hand made. Also, brands like these are not just brands. They are a lifestyle. Think about it, what is the point of having a Chanel bag if you only have one? So what’s the deal, should you still buy something branded? If you can, why not? If not, get something cheaper. There’s nothing wrong with that. Follow the Sharon Cuneta rule: Buy something only if you can buy three of it.

2. It’s not the brand, it’s you. The secret to good style isn’t about the brand you wear but on how you wear it. Think of a basic white tee – be it Calvin Klein or Hanes, it doesn’t matter. It’s not the brand that will make that shirt work. It’s you. Like what I always say, work it as if it’s got a fancy label and you’ll be alright. By the way, one of my most favorite pieces is a long-sleeved white woven shirt. I wear it with everything. I got it for only P35.00 in Cubao. Shhhhhh….

3. Brands will give prestige but never style, never panache. We were talking about how some pricey items are wasted on people who got the money to buy it but not enough sense to properly wear it. So tragic that someone who can buy branded stuff but they end up looking like they were dressed by a blind patient at the cuckoo house. A total waste.

So to close off, let me share one last anecdote. A few months back I got invited to one of the state universities to give a talk about looking for a job and getting hired. As I was talking about dressing up right, I began critiquing their clothes and noticed this girl hugging her “LV”. I asked her if it was a genuine LV and she said yes. If she read my mind that instant, she would see: “Honey, who are you kidding? The stitching in your bag is screaming fake and if you can really afford an LV, why aren’t you paying your entire class’ tuition next semester?”

 

One Dress, Three Icons and A Hundred Thousand Steps

Well you might have noticed that it’s been a while since you last heard from me. I’ve been busy doing the impossibly difficult task of putting together an intimate, fabulous, vintage-inspired wedding – for my sister. Well of course what is the point of having me in the family if I wouldn’t be in the vortex of everything, right? Anyway one of the challenges for most weddings is of course making it very stylish and tasteful without raking in a bill the size of Mount Everest. As we both decided on the theme and the limits to our funds, we ran around the city in search of the perfect wedding ensemble.

Well since we can only dream of getting Herrera, Dior, Lacroix or De La Renta to aid us, we summoned the powers of some of the most prolific style icons – Monroe, Von Teese and yes, Bradshaw. After walking for literally miles and miles of retail spaces, we finally decided to do a styled up suit – pretty much like that nameless vintage wonder Ms. Bradshaw had on when she got married. Only, Manolos were out of the question.

We found this fantastic ivory silk/satin jacket with a bow detailing on the waist at Iora. Just the perfect length and fit. It actually came with a pencil skirt but we wanted something flowy – a decision that turned out to be quite a challenge. Apparently, one of the rare items in Manila is an ivory  flowy skirt. Three gigantic malls and nothing. Just when we almost gave up we went to Crossings in Trinoma and found this fabulous 7-in-1 convertible Marilyn Monroe-ish dress in the exact shade and similar fabric. Weight is perfect to keep it flowy yet steady and the length hits right above the knees.

Then of course we’ve only just begun. Enter the Bradshaw touches. First, a large, black, silk rose brooch with just a hint of sparkle. Found one in Divisoria for an obscenely low price. Then, a large onyx ring (about the size of a one peso coin) I found in Landmark. As we couldn’t find matching onyx earrings, we settled for crystal teardrop earrings – shone like diamonds minus the six-figure price. And the biggest challenge of all, the shoes. I swear we went through every single shoe store in four major malls and nada. We needed something classy (as opposed to hoochie) with 3-4 inch stilettos - which again is quite hard to find. By chance we went into People Are People and there it was, miraculously appearing were the perfect shoes. Now everything was complete – after about six entire days of searching.

Who better to pattern vintage hair and makeup from than the one and only Dita Von Teese? Pin curls, coifs, dark lashes and scandalously red lips. Hairstyling tips were from superkawaiimama – which we found on youtube lol.

So, all in all, guess how much the total look cost? Just a little over P7,000.00. Now I’d like to post the finish product now but the “official” photos are not yet out. Don’t worry I will. But for now, who needs some styling?

There’s a Banana In Your Closet

I am unofficially the stylist of most of my friends. Given my retail background and an explicit love of all things fab, I don’t blame them LOL. No I’m not Mr. Blackwell nor those fashion gurus in E!, but i will admit to having an eye (and patience) for styling people.

Now since most men (at least the straight ones) are clueless about what to wear and are too embarrassed to admit it or even ask someone about it, I’ve put together a list of the nine basic items that a guy should have. These items are chosen for their versatility and their relatively affordable prices – for those who want to up their fashion sense without breaking the bank:

1. Woven tops in basic colors and conservative prints – These will always be good investments because it never goes out of style. For those just starting to build up their wardrobes, begin by getting pieces in solid, neutral colors then move on to stripes and plaids. The only thing to look out for is the cut of the shirt. For short sleeved shirts, best cuts are those with sleeves that hit the middle of the upper arm and has a tapered and longish torso. Long sleeved ones should be tapered but not tightly fitting in the sleeves and torso.

2. Tees and polos in stripes and basic colors. These can be good canvasses to work on. You can layer these, accessorize, style up or dress down. They’re pretty flexible especially if you got the ones which fit you right.

3. Black coat, jacket and/or blazer – A decent black outerwear can change the look of even a basic white tee. Brand is irrelevant, cut is essential. Sleeves should never go beyond three quarters of an inch below the wrist bone. Hem should ideally be falling right on top of the pants’ back pockets.

4. Trousers (slacks) in black, charcoal and/or brown – These babies can go from work to play. Choose pants which are narrow and straight, with just the right fit at the hip. Very loose pants should be donated to the homeless.

5. Good fitting jeans – Nothing beats a good pair of jeans on a fine, fine piece of man. Any preferred shade of indigo will do, so will black. Colored jeans when you’re beyond 17 will bring you straight to fashion hell. Choose jeans that are a little low rise, a little snug on the hips and has a comfortable seat. Always remember, jeans were made to show off butts and crown jewels so if you have it, flaunt it.

6. Chinos in gray and khaki – It’s the in-between of casual and formal. Perfect for those dinners with your girl (or boy) friend’s parents cause when you pair it with the right shirt, it makes you look responsible (don’t ask me why).  Follow the guide for jeans when choosing chinos but you may opt for something a little more loose.

7. Ties in conservative colors and prints. If you have those ties with prints even remotely resembling a cartoon character, burn it. It’s not cute. Stick to solids and stripes.

8. Black loafers or moccassins – formal shoes but can work well too with jeans. Avoid chunky shoes and those with large buckles or unusual textures and materials. Keep it simple and comfy ’cause you will be wearing it a lot. Don’t be ashamed to own a lot of shoes. Men have that addiction too, we just don’t admit it.

9. Basic jewelry. Simple chain necklaces and bracelets are like parsley – they add that final zing. Silver or gold it doesn’t matter as long as it’s minimal. Good watches are also wise investments – except if they’re the size of saucers and lined with those fake diamonds (ugh the thought of it makes me cringe). Stick with conservative designs ’cause these will never go out of style. Finally, remember the rule of 5 in accessories – maximum five pieces anytime.

So there you have it kids, my first raid into your closet. Like I always say, don’t expect people to swoon over you if you insist on looking like a formless piece of clay.

La Mort Par Le Plastique

Swipe moderately

Death by plastic.

Nope. This is not morbid. It’s worse.

I remember being fresh out of college and very eager to get my first pay. I figured, I could do so much if I had my own money. Then I finally got it and felt awesome. Naturally, the urge to spend is there when you got a couple of big bills in your wallet just itching to be transformed into nice shoes. I was earning a little over P6,000.00 a month back then and I felt like a millionaire.  This went on for about a year or so. And then it happened. I met Mr. Mastercard. And boy was it quite an impression.

My wallet suddenly seemed like an endless pool of money. With this plastic money I could buy the much more expensive stuff like gadgets. Looking back on that first moment when the cashier swiped that card, I sold my soul to the devil. More years passed and more cards came. Good thing that I wasn’t really paid extravagantly  ’cause that meant I had low paying capacity therefore I had lower credit limits. But still, the debt never left. It’s like debt till death. Of course I try to be a good payer as much as I can but then it’s a cycle. You get one, you splurge, you get up to your eyeballs in debt, you pay up, you splurge again. It’s a pain, alright. That card which you supposedly had “for emergency use” ends up being swiped as well. But then who said that seeing your favorite brand go on sale isn’t classified as an emergency? Right?

All Hail The Queen

Madonna. She is known by many names. Entertainer, singer, actress, dancer, businesswoman, philanthropist, provocateur… and the list goes on. Billboard cites her as the most successful solo artist in the history of the charts and Guiness recognizes her as the top selling and most successful female recording artist of all time. But to me, she is not that. She is an inspiration.

I honestly don’t know what got me into liking her. It was 1983 when I first heard Holiday. I was six then and I found myself being hypnotized by that intro. I didn’t know then that “love at first listen” was even possible, but apparently it was.  And that’s where it all started. I began following the songs and kept playing it in my head. My parents weren’t the kind who would give their son a walkman (yes, this was way before the ipod) so he could listen to a corset-and-rosary-wearing singing about love and sex.

But you know what, as I got older I began to think, “Did she have the same impact to me as she did to others?” You know what I like about her? She had no outstanding obvious talent. She doesn’t have the pipes like Mariah nor the moves like Janet (or Michael) does but look at her. She outsold them all.  She used what little she had and blew it like it was the most awesome thing anyone has ever seen. It’s the concrete example of overcoming one’s shortcomings and making something good out of it. It’s not caring about all the bad things that people say about you and just going for whatever it is that makes you happy. She reinvents herself if she feels like it. Much like we do. I think that if you get bored with who you are then a little change here and there would be healthy. Change you hair color, your clothes, your whatever. You don’t have to stick to one and people will just have to go along.

I remember reading an interview in the 90′s where a reporter asked her if she would ever consider being a man. To which she replied, “I already have a penis inside my head, I don’t need one between my legs.” And boy does she have balls. She’s so tough that everytime she rocks the boat or poke the hornet’s nest, she just stands there and take everything head on. We all got issues and problems we face on a day-to-day basis and if we would just sit down and cry about it, we won’t solve it.

So cheers to her. The woman who’s tough as nails dances like there’s no tomorrow. Happy birthday!

Burning Down The House

A lot of people don’t get me – including myself sometimes. Naturally, being curious creatures, we get to a point where they look everywhere for some explanation on why we are the way we are. Call it existentialism if you want. We all would go and try to find the possible reasons why we think, act and live the way we do.

In my case, I decided to look up – literally. I read about the zodiacs a couple of years back and I was surprised to find how most of the things I read were kind of on the dot.

I’m a Sagittarius – a fire sign. Generally, fire signs are described as straightforward, zealous, confident and can face danger or difficulty without flinching or retreating. The aggressive nature of fire people makes us perfectly comfortable being the center of attention and we find nothing more motivating than winning. Of course with that kind of attitude, losing sucks more to us than the other signs.

Sagittarius is represented by a Centaur with its bow and arrow pointed to the heavens – a sign of ambition and passion. Add to that being ruled by Jupiter – a planet characterized by dominance and leadership.

With those attributes alone, one would probably think twice about going against someone born under this sign.

But it gets even better. I was born under the year of the Snake. The Fire Snake.

The snake is one of those creatures which always elicited fear among humans and for good reason. Through the ages, across all cultures, the snake has symbolized deceit, guardianship, vengefulness and vindictiveness. Relating that to people born under the sign, we can be firm even when threatened and can resort to striking when provoked.

Chinese astrologers have explained that people born under the sign climb to the top and use the tongue as a weapon. It’s the symbol which is fixed to fire as its element. Though cyclically, the sign is assigned to other elements, the year I was born, the snake (which is innately fire) was on its “fire year”. Symbolically increasing its qualities.

So putting it all together. Born under Sagittarius (a fire sign), Snake (a fire sign), on the year of the Fire.  No wonder people are running away.

What’s Cookin’ Average Lookin’?

 

I have a natural aversion to ugliness. Yeah I know most people do but I’d like to think that my tolerance for it is a couple of notches lower than the average Filipino.

Anyhoo a couple of days ago, I came upon a realization: How on Earth does someone like Marian Rivera do it? I mean apart from pretty what the hell does she have? She is devoid of any actual acting (delivering mindless lines while canoodling a half-naked man hardly counts), singing  (lip-sync is so 80′s), dancing (grinding one’s hips at varying speeds is not dancing, dear) talent. And yet when you go around the city, you see her billboards left and right. She is arguably a certain TV network’s primary commodity. She’s got a couple product endorsements. HOW THE HELL DID THAT HAPPEN?

Don’t get me wrong. I don’t hate Marian Rivera. I just find her annoying. That “pretty-but-dumb-girls-own-the-world” kind of annoying.  I looked her up at Wikipedia. Her personal profile read like it was written by her. Such substance. Such eloquence in writing. NOT.

“Marian Rivera was born in Madrid, Spain to Francisco Javier Gracia Alonso, a Spaniard and Amalia Rivera, a Filipina of Cavitena  descent. When her parents separated two years after her birth, Marian Rivera and her mom left Spain and flew back to her mother’s home town in Cavite. She finished Bachelor of Arts in Psychology at De La Salle University-Dasmariñas. Marian is an only child. She and her father did not talk for five years, but at a birthday concert for her and Dingdong Dantes, her father greeted Marian which made her break down in tears. Her father greeted her in Spanish, although he speaks fluent Tagalog.”

Duh?

Remember when we were young and impressionable, grown-ups would always tell us that the secret to success lies in your ability to use your talents for the betterment of this world. That being smart, a degree-holder at least, and to behave properly in public will make you successful. What happened? Have gigantic boobs replaced diplomas? Does a pretty face lead you to doors that average-looking people have no access to? What then would be the fate of the ugly people (admit it, you too have ugly friends you’re concerned for)?

Or maybe it’s the other way around. Perhaps someone like Marian is a beacon of hope for all the bimbos in the city. A glimmer of hope that despite one’s  numerous grammatical murders and un-classy behavior, success can come. No wonder the lines on those casting calls for reality shows are miles long. Are these the next Marians? What then is the point of advancement in TV technology is people like these would be the ones starring in it?

Scream my lungs out, trying to get to you

I’ve always had diverse taste in music. Though I go for mainly Top40, I go out of my box every now and then and explore. Songs which are lyrically driven and instrumentally divine make me tantric (seriously). Anyway, here are the top 5 rock songs on my playlist, chosen for the richness of the accompaniment and the profound lyrics. Enjoy!

#5 is the very emo ANTHEM OF OUR DYING DAY  by Story of The Year. I have always been drawn to rock songs mixed with orchestra music. And the video’s great too.

#4 is BLURRY by Puddle of Mudd.  Who would have thought that it was about his son?

#3 SHIMMER by Fuel. How can you not love a song that says love is for fools that fall behind?

#2 FAINT by Linkin Park. The beat is infectious, Chester’s voice just rips you apart. I love them.

And the #1 song of choice for the rocker in me…. ONLY ONE by Yellow Card. I melted when I heard this the first time. Unbelievably romantic, the rifts made me cry and that violin was heavenly. Orgasmic, I say.

And the award goes to…

from 3.bp.blogspot.com

I never had a trophy for myself.

Considering that I was one of the bright ones in class, I never had a single trophy with my name on it. The only one I have is the one we got for getting first place at a dance competition back in college. Come to think of it, why didn’t I have one?

I think it’s a universal truth that people like being recognized. Admit it or not, people live for validation. Much as I refused to believe it, even myself included. Trophies are tangible validations. Something that you can put up on display to shout to the world, “Hey I’m good and they all agree!” Though looking at it, I never had any shortage of validations and praises for the stuff that I do. People tell me. BUT HOW COME I DON”T HAVE A TROPHY?

Well some people have trophies though in another form. Having a hot somebody to walk with at a party is sure to make heads turn. Driving an Audi to a high school reunion will get people drooling. Or getting that corner office with a view, that house in the exclusive village, that Hermes bag, or even that shiny gold pen you’re holding now. The list can go on and on. These are objects that make us feel good about ourselves. We can look at it as rewards for all the hard work, or as tools to rub our social status on lesser beings. It will all boil down to us needing objects to make ourselves feel important. It’s a material world and if you ain’t into it, better leave the planet honey or you’d be stuck in a pool of envy and resentment.

Now where was I? Oh yeah! WHERE’S MY TROPHY?

Big Swirling Vat Of Dark Emo

“Do you love me?”
“Yes.”
“Will you give me another chance?”

Those were the first three lines in the video for Taylor Swift’s White Horse. I know, here I go again with being all depressing and analytical about stuff but hey, this is me. Indulge me on this okay? LOL

Something about melancholy draws people into it. Sad songs remind me of a slowly swirling vat of dark chocolate. It’s hypnotizing and you know it’s so bad to take too much of it but what the heck you help yourself nonetheless. Everybody likes sadness, admit it or not. We all like to every once in a while reflect on all those hurt we experienced as we go through the daily grind. There is this saying that, “If it doesn’t kill you it will make you stronger.” So I think that the more people embrace the hurt, the stronger we become and therefore we get to bear more, you guessed it, pain.

Heartbreaks in particular are such rich sources of sadness that it has the capacity to obliterate the sun in any happy camper’s life. No matter how seemingly perfect you may be, there’s no immunity for it. No matter how much you psych yourself to face a breakup, you still end up wounded. There are however people who willing get themselves into these situations. Perhaps to get a feel of their mortality or just plain masochism.

A guy practically moved mountains just to be with the one he loves, risking everything he had. Fate did cooperate and gave him one last chance to say what’s on his heart because he knew that that one moment when it happens, that is his only opportunity to show how he really felt. It’s the big dice roll, the big leap of faith. It all seemed perfect. Then it all came crashing down. Worse part is, guy didn’t know what happened and why it happened. Everything just crashed spectacularly. So now he’s in a limbo, lost. Resigned to the fact that not because you gave it all doesn’t mean you’ll get something in return.

No THAT was not about me. Or is it? Go torture yourselves thinking.

“Do you love me?”
“Yes.”
“Will you give me another chance?”

…”No.”

Oh Father I Have Sinned

From watch-inc.com

I never had any solid male influence.

My dad, as far as I remember, was a disciplinarian who hardly showed any direct affection towards us. Although I have no doubt whatsoever that he loved us, he’s one of those people who aren’t really showy. I have zero recollection of a fun, light-hearted moment with him. He was too busy bringing food (and booze) to the table. He was a good provider but looking back, I feel like I we never really got to know each other as much as we should have. I knew I made him proud. I had good grades – exceptional even. I hardly got into any fights and basically did everything he asked me to do. But somehow, it felt like there was this wall that he put up between us. Like there were so many things he didn’t want me to know about him. So in short, up to the time that he died my dad and I didn’t have any father-son moment. That’s something that I wish we had. So that I’d know how to run my life the way he did. He was my first hero, naturally. He seemed like he ruled the world, that there wasn’t any problem he couldn’t solve.

I have a brother, an older half-brother. He would have been a good substitute father figure since he was like 8 years older than me. But he is such a disappointment. He did things that would break any parent’s heart. He is unbelievably irresponsible, devoid of any drive to succeed and had the logic of a kindergarten. So, out with that one. If there was a ranking of the world’s worst influences, his name would be way up there.

The closest I got to a decent male influence is my former boss, my mentor, my friend – who I affectionately call Dumbledore. He called me Harry. We were both fans of the series (obviously) and I put him on such high esteem that I seriously think that if he was a wizard, he’d be the real Dumbledore. He to me is one of the best bosses who ever walked this earth. He was smart, blunt, generally righteous and sees things in a perspective all his own. He taught me so much about leadership and doing the job well. I give him credit for  most of the things I know and use. If circumstances were different, I would be glad to go back to his team. Too bad for me.

I think it’s normal for any man to look for another man to look up to. Like some sort of model you could pattern yourself to. Like a dad who will push you till you fall and then picks you up to tell you it’s gonna be okay. I miss my dad.

Out of Nowhere

The 90′s has always held a very special place in my heart. It was a crazy time for me, being 12 when the decade kicked in. That was the time when MTV and Channel V started showing here and everyone just had to watch everything on it. I guess at the point my interest in music was solidified, getting to know more artists than I usually hear on the radio. So, without further ado, I bring five of my favorite videos from the 90′s, each chosen for either its sentiment or just the cute video. Enjoy!

No.5 is the sophomore track by Indonesian singer Anggun. Of course everyone knows her for Snow In The Sahara (which is a fantastic song I might say), but this video is just so Asian and so magical.

ROSE IN THE WIND

No.4 is the cute song from Steps. Again, they were more famous for their breakout song 5, 6, 7, 8. I like this one because of the cute lyrics. It’s juvenile and romantic – plus the dance steps are corny LOL

IT’S THE WAY YOU MAKE ME FEEL

No.3 is the heartbreaking song from Allure. A group formed by Mariah Carey, they had melodies just like her in her early years. This is one heartbreaking song with one heartbreaking video.

LAST CHANCE

No.2 is the soul-drenched Anastacia with her sophomore single. This, hands down, shows her amazing voice. I love it!

NOT THAT KIND

And at No.1 is the sad but kinda cute song from B*witched. A teeny-bopper song which can make grown men think of those sad rainy days when you’re waiting for someone and you feel like your’e losing hope. Check out that part where they find the dog – it’s so… ugh.

BLAME IT ON THE WEATHERMAN

Between The Lines Of Fear And Blame

Image is from rtmulcahy.wordpress.com

When I was way younger, I always thought one of the most difficult things any man would even have to deal with is the death of a friend. At that point I was thankful that I haven’t experienced that and I believed that I won’t be given something like that to face if I wasn’t strong enough to handle it. Years passed and perhaps I am now so much stronger than I had been back then.

In less than a year, I didn’t just lose one friend, I lost three.

Ruby (or Dyosa as I call her) has been an officemate for eight years. Though we were never really really close, still she remains as a friend. You know those people who you hardly share too many intimate details with but still at that level where you share so many things (laughs especially) together. I look up to her for her strength. She’s a tough girl who’s been through a lot and flourished despite the challenges. A couple of months before she passed, we even texted and one of the last things she said was if she needed my help she’s call me – in which I of course gladly said yes to. She took her life and I never really knew what and how big her problem was.

Jeff (or Djudjelle to us) has been one of our closest childhood friends. Through all those years we remained close despite the different roads we took as we grew up. We all lived different lives and his was, like we always told him, going to be the death of him. He lived life to the fullest and enjoyed everything in it. It just got all too extreme. All those nights he hardly slept, drowned in booze and bad friends. We love him dearly. His passing came as a surprise – we never thought death would come so close to us again.

Ruru (or Rurubelle to me) has been one of the kindest, most sensitive souls that ever walked this Earth. Being in HR, I was one of his confidants. I cared for him the way I looked after the welfare of our employees. Though we were never really very close, we remained friends and stayed in touch for a couple of years and chatted regularly. I knew he had a major heartbreak a couple of months back and I even gave him assurances that he’ll bounce back and that if he needed someone to talk to I was there. I thought he would bounce back. I thought he would finally let go of that guy who hurt him so. I was wrong. I was shocked to learn Ruru gave up the fight. He took his life over some stupid bastard. I’m not blaming you Ru but no man is ever worth it. We were all here for you, had you asked for help.

I know it’s my usual self to be all gloomy but Ruru’s was a wakeup call for me of sorts. I try hard to be a good friend to all my friends. I’m here whenever you’d call me. I know I won’t be able to carry all your burdens nor solve all of the problems you might be facing. But I’m here.  If you need me just call me and though at times I might fail, I will be there for you one way or another. The fear of losing another friend is something I don’t think I have the strength for yet. I’m not here to save the world, I’m just here to be a friend.

Oh this is gonna make me cry.

Dingdong Fears

No, this is not about that overrated muscle bag who tries so hard to act all macho but is really a just talentless turd.

It’s a known fact that guys, myself included, have a special attachment (literally and figuratively) to their penises.   It’s like, the center of the universe, the very essence of existence in this world. Just this morning, as I was drying off after a shower I had a sudden inspiration to list down the Top Ten Penis-Related Things That Guys Are Scared Of. Here goes:

10.  When you realize that you got a couple of ants on your undies. Boy does that hurt/itch like nothing else.

9.  A wayward skin gets caught as you zip up. Oh that can make even Mike Tyson cry.

8. You get some action and it fails to rise in time. Not that it won’t, it just got a little delayed. Tsk tsk.

7. You pee and instead of the usual 1-2 streams, you get three! O.O

6. You had it in your head that you were at least a six. Until you met a ruler which vehemently disagreed.

5. You decided to get in shape so you hit the gym. So now you got muscular legs which emphasized how “unproportioned” your lower half is

4. You get it on with someone really hot and once it was out all your partner said was, “Oh, okay, I can work with this”

3. You were so well endowed people get scared when you wear shorts that go above the knee

2. You thought of naming your dingdong and the first name that popped in your head was “Gaylord”

and the top penis-related thing that scares the hell out of guys is

1. Your penis wriggling while screaming, “You’re so clingy stop touching me!”

I ride the Green Lion

Me and my friends went out last night and over dinner we had this fantastic discussion about 90′s stuff. With three of us on the same age bracket, we had a ball sharing things to our younger friends on the cool things that made everything about that decade seem so utterly blissful.

Me and my friends went out last night and over dinner we had this fantastic discussion about 80′s and 90′s stuff. With three of us on the same age bracket, we had a ball sharing things to our younger friends on the cool things that made everything about that decade seem so utterly blissful.

Of course who can forget the Nintendo Family Computer? As my parents were not really into spoiling me and my sister with pricey gadgets like these, we resorted to going to those rental shops where there’s this long line of kids waiting for their turn on. I remember feeling so frustrated that I’m already the next one on cue then the kid before me would pay for an extra half hour extension! OMG it made me wanna strangle him! I wanted my Mario and my Battle City! Looking back I guess that was how I first developed my EQ – it taught me  a valuable lesson on delayed gratification.

And then there were those cartoons! Captain Planet (he’s a hero, gonna take pollution down to zero), Thundercats (whooooooo), Voltron (Lion Team FTW) and GI Joe and Transformers and Visionaries! Plus those Marvel mid morning cartoons – Thor (at the rainbow bridge of Asgard, where the blue in heavens roar, you’ll behold the ____ wonder, the god of thunder, mighty Thor!), Iron Man (amazing armor, it’s Iron Man) and Namor the Submariner. There were no weirdos like Spongebob nor Catdog (?) All we had were the best superheroes any kid could find. Maybe that’s why we had this notion that if anyone tries really hard enough, you could actually rule the world!

I would have to agree that childhood is really bliss. The times when all you ever worry about is when the next fun thing will be. Funny thing is, in retrospect, it’s true that whatever stuff you enjoyed when you were young really greatly affects how you’d turn out when you grow up.

Divas, cookie cutters, moisturizers and cardboard Pandora boxes

photo from zedomax.com

I was doing a marathon of America’s Next Top Model these past few weeks, watching a couple of episodes at a time while munching on multi-grain chips. Episode after episode, the contestants go through as challenges that vary from the really simple ones (posing in a bikini) to the bizarre (completely nude shoots save for body paint, glitter and feathers) to the ridiculous (running through stairs then having their pictures taken to see how well they photograph when haggard). After each task the girls are critiqued (read: insulted),  given advice (read: dictated) and evaluated (read: slaughtered) before they get eliminated (read: sent back into oblivion). With each episode, the girls were supposed to learn about the fashion world, how tough it is and how uncool it could be behind all the glitz and glamor.

Don’t get me wrong but I think that most of the time they’re right. Though they got weird (but fabulous nonetheless) ways of delivering their goods, they really make sense. They talk about how a contestant should be commercial but not too commercial, breaking grounds but not pushing it too much, edgy but not too edgy… the list goes on. They talk about how some models get really successful despite being “out of the box” or not the “cookie-cutter” version.

Now that got me thinking, why do people like putting labels on stuff? You know like having a specific pattern or ideals for how someone or something should be. Guys should be like this, girls should be like this, gay people should be like this, teachers should be like this, artists should be like this. Often, we force ourselves to believe that everyone should fit exactly into those categories we created. We set rules and conventions for everyone to follow and penalize those who fail to follow.  Think, for example – guys and moisturizers should not be seen in public together. It’s not like men’s skin don’t get dried up or damaged by UVL.

Then we move to the next step – we declare that if a guy uses moisturizers, he must be gay! Does it always follow? You rummage inside a guy’s back pack and there it is, a tube of moisturizer – incriminating evidence that he has transitioned into the pink side.

The it gets complicated – we meet a gay guy. Openly gay, a little flamboyant at times. And then you learn that he doesn’t moisturize. So you ask the mindless questions, “Aren’t gay people supposed to be into these things? Why don’t you moisturize?” Aghast, you see it as “an un-moisturized skin is like a violation of every rule in the gay constitution”!

And then, to make things even crazier, we meet a married guy who moisturizes, drives with only two fingers of each hand on the wheel, slam dunks like a pro and a voice that makes James Earl Jones‘ seem like a soprano.  So which box should we put him in? Damn it.

Now as what most people say, things like this call for very long conversations with equally smart people.

Perhaps over a couple of beers.

And a couple of innuendos.

Then maybe you’d wake up the following morning next to your naked friend and finding out your clothes and your sanity went missing.

Not all that glitters is… well… glitter.

In every person’s life, there are moments when things just start swirling in your head. Ironies, introspections and dark humor just pops out of nowhere and just swims in circles like fudge on melted ice cream (yum!)

Have you ever been in a virtual relationship? No, not like those perverted online things where you both pretend to be in a relationship that cannot be bound by normal rules of dating (read: actually seeing the person and spending time with them). I mean like, you’re sort of in a relationship limbo. Like you like/love each other but both of you never really took the time to put a label in it? Whether intentional or not, you just didn’t want the strings. 

But then it feels and sort of works like an actual relationship – complete with all the laughs, the thrills, the sad parts and the occasional (or one) steamy night. It’s got all the elements of a good, happy relationship – the sweet nothings, the googly eyes, the sharing of each other’s problems. You get your good times and your bad times. You make each other laugh as much as you tore each other apart. You get the picture.

Now the odd thing is much as it feels like a relationship, you wake up one morning and smell the coffee. This isn’t real. Who am I kidding here? Yes I’m happy, yes I feel kind of special – but is all this REAL? We both know this is so wrong in so many levels. This is the kind of thing that makes self-help books so prolific. 

You realized it’s all just not real. It must have been all in your head. But then, you start asking – if this isn’t real, how come the heartbreak feels like the real thing? Why doesn’t the hurt feel fake? Why do the tears fall like it does in real life? Why did I hear my heart actually crack?

Lots of ways of looking at it. It’s all just glitter anyway.

Defying Bridget’s Law

03.03.2010 – White shirt, jeans, sneakers and a newsboy cap.

Every mentor’s motto is, “Push yourself to the limit.” That works, if you’re actually a good mentor. You know how Obi-Wan was to Anakin, or Dumbledore was to Harry. How the great master of things saw something in their young apprentices which through the right tutelage (what a word!) led them to blossom into amazing fountains of awesomeness.

Being in this profession for so long, I feel like, even as I have grown so much, I still got a loooong way to go. Now that wouldn’t be a problem if I have a mentor to guide me now. It’s one thing to be able to make things from scratch and it’s another to actually be taught how to do it. I think the latter would produce better output.

Anyway, what does this have to do with Bridget? The great plump “wanton sex goddess with a very bad man between her thighs” has shared one truth about the world – If your career starts going well, your personal life falls spectacularly into pieces. Well you really can’t have it all. Rarely do we find people who are equally successful on both ends. Come on admit it, it’s a legend. Nobody lives a perfect life. Nobody’s perfect, period.

The richest, most successful tycoon feels lonely and he looks for a girl (or a guy, whatever floats his boat) and tries to shower her/him with material things to compensate for his waning libido. Think of Hefner, he’s surrounded by all those bunnies who act like he’s THE bomb. Ew. Who are they kidding? The guy couldn’t get a boner if his life depended on it. 

Now there’s that lovely little housewife with the adoring husband and the cutest kids on the planet. Sure she says she’s fulfilled and happy. But we all know that deep inside, she wants to have something she can call her own. She want’s power. She wants to wear the pants every once in a while.

Now given that, why don’t we try to beat Bridget’s Law. Be a failure in your personal life AND be a failure in your job as well? Now THAT is pushing yourself to the limit. Oh my mentor’s gonna be so proud of me. 

When The Best Coaches Hit The Benches

I’ve never been good in any form of sports. I was the weird kid who played alone, imagining all sorts of things. One of the earliest memories I have of my childhood was playing with this mound of sand in front of our then apartment. I was alone. I was happy being alone with my thoughts.

Perhaps one of the oddities of being a kid like me was that all my thoughts were in English. It was so natural to me. I was hooked on Sesame Street. Maybe that was why no one would play with me. Maybe I gave them a look that says, how come you seem to have thoughts so different from mine? At that age I knew I was different and I wasn’t meant to conform.

I wouldn’t consider myself an introvert. Yes I do like to work independently and yes I do get issues when I work with a group (who, often than not, I end up owning). I’m not the type who would eventually author a self-help book.

I always thought that I don’t really need anyone to validate me. Never expected anyone to give me a hand when I obviously needed one. I was happy being ignored. I was happy being who I am. Happy watching people watch in (what I think is) amazement at how I live my life and how it seems so easy for me to dispense advice on what to do for every situation. I always thought I was a natural leader. You know, the one people run to. The one who will point the way. To some extent, I think I played that role quite well. People see me as an opinion leader, someone whose words matter. 

Funny how things change. The guy who didn’t need validation feels like giving in to seemingly mundane challenges, pointless heartaches and vague feelings of sadness. I don’t know. It just creeps in. It’s not like a big yellow bus.

I’m happy I made some people happy. That’s one thing I think I do well. I always know what to say, what to do so that I get the reaction I wanted. 

Now in times like this, when the bringer of fire feels extinguished, who to go to? It’s not easy feeling alone in a roomful of people. It’s not easy feeling deprived when so much has been given already. It’s not easy feeling like you’ve been reduced to something you know you’re not – a pathetic, needy guy. 

I’m not baring my soul, because I think there is no soul here to begin with.

I’m not emo. I’m just sad. Generally sad. Sad in general over general things. Sad over silly things. Maybe it’s because of every bad thing that happened this week. Maybe it’s because of I’m just crazy. 

I guess this is what happens when you didn’t get a simple public “thank you” from one person who’s not even supposed to have a hold on you. Surprise, coach. Bet you didn’t expect that.

Rings and Strings

Image taken from Wikipedia.org. Thanks Wiki!

Marilyn sang about it, Nicole remade it, DiCaprio had a movie about it, and De Beers had an empire made of it. Yes folks, diamonds.

The ever-reliable Wikipedia defines it as 

an allotrope of carbon, where the carbon atoms are arranged in a variation of theface-centered cubic crystal structure called a diamond lattice. Diamond is less stable than graphite, but the conversion rate from diamond to graphite is negligible atambient conditions. Diamond is renowned as a material with superlative physical qualities, most of which originate from the strong covalent bonding between its atoms. In particular, diamond has the highest hardness and thermal conductivity of any bulk material. Those properties determine the major industrial application of diamond in cutting and polishing tools.

Admit it, you went past that elaborate yet accurate definition. To most people diamonds symbolize strength, purity, and unimaginable value. Thus it has become almost a rule that to prove to someone that this is it, I’m in it for the long run, you gotta give the big clear rock. I remember a friend who absolutely (though she did it in so many words) refused to let her boyfriend pop the question because it just HAD to be a diamond ring. I was like, poor guy. So in-love and in a few months, will be so broke. Well he bought one eventually and now they’re married.

These kind of stories kinda makes one wonder, why is it that we have to always have to prove how we felt about someone? Has this world been so saturated with lies and deceit that positive fluffy feelings like love is met with doubt and suspicion? I mean think about it. Your never believed your high school crush feels the same way unless it came directly from him/her. You’re a girl who had a couple of suitors but you never believed they loved you until they took you out on that cheesy burger joint at the corner of Young and Tacky. You’re a guy who finally snagged a date with your dream girl and yet at the back of your mind you say, “She’s just being kind. I’ll know she really likes me if I get a kiss later”.

What is it about love that needs to be proven? You tell someone you love them. Plain and simple. Sometimes you don’t even want to be loved in return. You just wanna say it. Make them feel it. You get into a relationship with someone and you’ve been together for a while and yet it gets to a point that you have to prove that the love is still there. Even the geriatrics renew their vows after half a century of marriage. For what? To prove to the world that hey, we still got it!

After all that I’m still confused. Why do we have to prove that we love someone? Why do we have to prove that love exists? We’ve all been there.

What’s wrong with this picture?

Living in Manila my entire life has granted me with a lot of time to really explore the sights and sounds associated with city living. I’ve never experienced living in both provinces where my parents came from except for the occasional vacation. Given that, I never really learned how to plant anything, raise any farm animal, milk a cow, climb coconut trees, or even swim well enough to save myself. 

However, being stuck in an urban jungle like Manila has quite a lot of perks. Yes I never climbed trees but I’m very adept at climbing stairs. I can run up a relatively long flight of stairs in one breath. Also, I have a keen sense of direction. I hardly get lost, even if I’m not really that familiar with the place. I use tall buildings, the sun and my charms to find my way. I’m also very adept in cooking instant noodles. Despite it’s non-semolina noodles, I can keep everything al dente using songs as my timer. Yes I sing and dance when cooking noodles. Leave me alone.

If there’s one very special skill I’m proud of is doing my covert operations. I like taking pictures. But not in that I-wanna-be-in-so-I-bought-a-fancy-camera-even-if-all-I-do-is-point-and-shoot-stupid-subjects-like-myself kinda way. 

I take pictures of fashion victims. You know, people who have no idea their taste in clothes and shoes will make Alexander McQueen stir in his grave. 

I take pictures of odd signs. Be it just grammar or spelling. I take pictures for kicks.

Here’s what I mean:

All of these images are mine. If you wanna use it, go ahead. Just have the balls to ask permission or at least credit me. >.>

Pensieve

Finally a new blog!

I’ve had blogs in the past but sadly I failed to keep them up-to-date till I realized my last post was like more than a year ago LOL.

Hmm… what to do with all this space? I know I’ll do my own version of Project 365. For those of you who are (hopefully) intelligent but (sadly) uninformed, Project 365 is like posting one picture you took each day of the current year. Some of my friends got their own Project 360 etc. because well, they missed some of the days of 2010. LOL again.

Anyway I won’t post pictures here. I’m not a photography enthusiast. What I’ll do is post at least one crazy thought per day. Sounds promising. I’ll ask questions no one asks, say things most people would rather keep to themselves, and answer some of the questions which hopefully will not destroy any of the last morsels of dignity I still have left.

So, on with the craziness.

19 February 2010. Light blue polo, jeans and sneakers. We had lunch at Chowking (like we always do every other day). Tried out their new orange chicken. It was good. Well, that is if you like the taste of those sauces for fishballs (manong yung matamis ha). And then it happened. I had a sudden burst of courage. I turned and saw her. I was like, WTF?!? That has got to be the uggliest effing face I’ve ever seen in my life. She really looked like a hammerhead shark. with the underdeveloped body of a woman. Her eyes are too far apart you could mistake them for ears with lashes. Her upturned mouth and tiny button nose made it even worse.

I said to myself, I should have the courage to ask her where she parked her flying saucer.

A rainbow of joy in every cup

i hate the rain. as far as i recall i never liked the rain. for some sick strange reason, my mood is affected by rain. the only thing nice about a rainy day is the fact that it has an end. pretty soon the sun will be back.

no what if, god (or at least the Christian God) decides to flood the earth once again? if god’s incarnation on earth is morgan freeman, then he would be one cool divinity. but that’s beside the point. going back, what if the many days and nights of torrential rain will come? ah the drama that would unfold once the trimming of the species will take place

1. it will finally be revealed that noah’s decendants are all employed with aboitiz now and that all these years, they’ve been perfecting the use of steel to replace the wood which were supposedly what the arks will be made of

2. people from abs-cbn and endemol would be the first in to prepare the ark to make it livable. they would have to install all those two-way mirrors and cameras. big brother was to keep everyone entertained aboard by asking everyone to perform intelligence-inducing tasks like pretend to be pretending to have a crush on someone who’s also pretending that being a part of this show will build character

3. pairs of each specie shall be asked to board in… a singles party will be setup at the base of the plank so that single people would have the chance to start hooking up or be denied entry to the ark

4. all passengers are to pay for their fare. those who don’t have enough will be allowed as well. manny villar will pay for their fares and shamelessly campaign for the highest seat in the god-forsaken boat

5. another politician will sponsor one of the most basic necessities – glutathione. it’s gonna be a rough ride stuck in the open water for about forty days, at least fair skin will be something to look forward to once it’s over

6. all window seats will be reserved for the board of censors, moralists, religious fanatics, alcoholics, workaholics, megalomaniacs, peeping toms, perverts, emotional fuckwits, fashion victims, the pinoy idol judges and dumb chauvinists. these window seats shall be equipped with state-of-the-art ejection mechanisms that will set off at the slightest provocations. a special banner crediting and thanking bridget jones for identifying some of the criteria shall be put up at the entrance

7. in case some stupid pair of lovers would make the sex-starved captain’s crew neglect seeing an everest-sized iceberg leading to the inevitable crash and possible sinking of the ark, madam auring shall lead a pack of sexy starlets in keeping it afloat using their implants. the entire philippine government shall begin a ceremony which involves lecturing about how they are beacons of public service, integrity and purity of the soul – this, legend says, is a sure way to invoke the fires of hell upon them which will melt the iceberg and save everyone

8. once the rain is over, a text vote shall be initiated once again by abs-cbn to determine which dove will be used to look for that olive branch. they will market the idea as ” we want you to decide” though in reality they will charge P15.00 for each text… 15 x 100,000 votes = instant 1,500,000! as a consuelo-de-bobo, one texter will win P1,000 load! yipee

9. upon exit, most of everything would be washed off the face of the earth and it will be the task of everyone at the ark to repopulate the planet. however there will be one condition – they will answer the most important question of all: ARE WE GOOD?

10. in the end, after being stuck in the boat for so long, everyone will realize that we’re all bisexuals deep inside… AND WE ALL LIVED HAPPILY EVER AFTER

it’s a menagerie in there

he party’s just started. more than 200 people, all yammering like fanatical cult-members on speed. funny, they’re all in my head hahahaha

the reason why i made this blog is to use it to siphon out some of the weirdness that springs eternal in this head of mine. here’s some trickles:

After so many years of contemplating on getting it, i finally decided (more on my dentist finally convinced me) to have it. For those who haven’t seen me, I don’t look bad. It’s just that I had an underbite – meaning my lower teeth are on top of my upper teeth. Think of that horrible deep sea fish you saw on Finding Nemo. Then make it way way cuter save for the jaw structure. That was me before. Highlights of this procedure:

1. For the first week, i couldn’t close my mouth totally. I had cement-like thingies put on my back molars which kept my mouth ajar by about half a centimeter. The bugs had a field day when I’m on the road. They just zoom in like cars on the express way

2. During adjustments, it can get exhausting when you have to open really wide. Once, my dentist got a bit pissed off when I wouldn’t open my mouth wide enough. I wanted to tell him that it can’t go any further considering that at least six of his fingers are already inside

3. In one session, he asked me to open wide. Being a good boy, I did – as wide as i could. He posed the mirror and that hook-like thing, then froze. He didn’t move for about a minute. All along I thought something was wrong, only to realize he was watching Beyonce and Tina Turner do the shimmy in the Grammys

4. Having this much metal in your mouth leads to the inevitable mouth sores, especially in the early stages. The first one I had was the biggest I had my whole life. Seriously, it was about 1/3 of an inch long at the side of my mouth. It was caused by constantly scratching against the wire when I talk. The wire literally sliced my cheek millimeter by painful millimeter until next thing I know it got really big. It was hard to eat, hard to talk and worse, having the braces adjusted was a nightmare. The worst: I had to open my mouth real wide (tore the flesh ooouuuccchh) and then as leverage so he can snag the rubber on my back molar, my beloved dentist squeezed real hard on it (aaaaaaaaarrrggghhhh)

5. Next stage, aligning. Since my lower jaw wasn’t aligned with my upper teeth, my upper needed to be adjusted. Rubber bands were attached from one side to another, criss-crossing on my palate – literally putting several clotheslines inside my mouth. Downside: It limited my tongue’s movement space and every morning when I look at the poor thing, it had “grill marks” where it pressed against the bands. Upside: the bands provide a means for me to display the latest green leafy vegetables in all their glory

Now don’t get me wrong – I love my dentist. It’s that twisted kind of relationship where you get more attached to people who hurt you most hehehe

noobs and nudes

ha.

notice the last post was last december. haven’t been blogging lately. not that my life ran out of excitements.

i said noobs and nudes

hmmm… noobs – no you pervert it’s not a sleazy word. it’s a play on newbie – newbs – noobs – get it? anyway the new year has been such an amazing crazy roller coaster

1.  i got into a tussle with the fat bitter witches of the garden of good an evil (hah, they know who they are). let’s just put it this way, they owe me something and i retaliated because they were moving at a glacial pace. now they made a fuss out of it citing my supposed “ingratitude” – totally missing out the point that these things wouldn’t have happened if they stood off their blubbery asses and did their job. worse, they are in denial of their fault and resorted to a smear campaign against me. the pathetic toads.

2. i got tins on my grins. after years and years of coaxing, i finally relented to having braces. no, it’s not just for show. my teeth (not teats you pervert) really need it. nothing exciting though, save for the fact that i got the biggest mouth sore in  the galaxy. it was pain beyond description. thank god it healed

3. i got a new phone. my dream came true. i got my p1i. now i am complete. now i can go to the west and live in the undying lands…. dream sequence hahahaha

4. i went to boraaaaaaaa.  my take on it: boracay = nudes hahaha don’t get me wrong it’s not a nudist beach. the nudities happened somewhere else hahaha

ciao for now. more pix next issue

pull my strings just for a thrill

everything happens because it has to happen.

everything happened because it is the result of what you did when that thing happened to you before

now that thing that happened to you would have happened anyway but you should have had a little more sense so that your choice will not lead to what is happening now

what’s happening to you now will keep on happening again if you insist on doing the same thing when the same thing happens again

now why in the world would you want everything to happen again in your next lifetime? just so you can get the sick pleasure of letting the things that happen happen again and again even if it hurts you everytime it happens?

What comes in must go out

have you ever wondered why you eat? some people say you eat to live. others say that you eat to give yourself energy to do stuff. and yet other geekier beings say that you eat because you want to get enough adenosine triphosphates to power your cellular activities. i pondered upon this the other day and came up with a simple equation.

the body needs to release solid wastes aka poop to get rid of all the waste and dirt that has accumulated in our digestive tract. if a person won’t poop, then there is a risk of “poisoning” the body because you retain stuff that’s not needed and therefore bad for you.

now putting two and two together, you eat to poop. you have to take it in just so you have something to poop because if you won’t poop, you’ll die (or at least get really sick)

now let’s toast to one of the simple joys of life, pooping. for without poop, we would have no reason to eat.

(bows and stretches arms so the nurses can strap on the straight jacket on me)

blogalore bangalore folklore

has it ever happened to you that you don’t know whether you were awake or you were asleep? i know, i know it kinda sounds like something out of The Matrix, but yeah it does happen to me at times. call it whatever you want, sometimes i get the feeling that i actually get an “out-of-body” experience (psychics would call it that, the feeling that you actually feel like you get separated from your solid form).

hehehe skeptic brows all over would shoot up i know. i’m not claiming i did it, i just THINK i did. picture this, i was on my way to the office, listening to my ipod as always. absently i folded my arms across my chest, looking out the window. then i looked down, i saw both my hands on my lap INSTEAD OF MY CHEST. freaky huh. what’s even freakier is that i happened several times afterwards, in the most unexpected times and places. me feeling my arms moving and yet when i look at it, it’s just in one place.

as if the freakfest isn’t enough, i get into states of half-sleep, half-wake. my eyes are closed and yet i feel them open. like i’m looking into some space with images flashing. some of them discernable, others not. i even saw someone looking back once. weird weird weird

it’s no secret to my friends that i dabble into what others would label as witchcraft (for lack of a better term i think). for me its more than that actually. it’s dealing with the mystic side of things. recognizing energies and using it heheh

before you start hearing the charmed theme, hey, this ain’t fiction. reality shocks even more at times.

follower of the old ways, the old religion. i am an old soul, that i’m sure.

sam milby, voldermort and i have something in common

WARNING DEATHLY HOLLOWS SPOILER UP AHEAD
(and baby i hope you understand why i’m doing this. if you’re my bebot, i’m not sure if you should read this)

hello y’all

it’s a bright and shiny monday, sun is up and things are looking err… sunny heheheh

just had a thought so i decided to just, you know, blog it.

those of you who read harry potter (as in really read it) might have an idea on what horcruxes are. the book said like it’s possible to rip your soul apart and store it in little thingies so that you won’t have to face mortal death right? what’s the price? since your soul’s not intact anymore then you won’t exactly be whole anymore, especially when the horcrux got destroyed, right? now, to be able to make a horcrux, you would have to do something really terrible like kill someone, right? and voldemort did that seven times, right?

well tom marvolo riddle and moi have something in common.

before you start calling the cops, NO, DID NOT KILL ANYONE TO HAVE MY OWN HORCRUX. let me explain…

you see a couple of years ago i met my soulmate. she was THE ONE, i’m telling you. being with her was like having your life complete (that’s how i knew). but then being such a prat as most guys are, i was, especially at the time, too stupid to see it. i was busy “exploring” my life and all that i can do with my young tender body (OMG!!!)

anyway to make the long story short, i had the chance to keep the other half of my soul. it was right there, right in front of me, very much willing to love and be loved in return. she was THE ONE i told you. but then i blew it. i set her aside… only to realize that it was the wrong move

then  i had a second chance. yipee. but then i blew it again. anyone who never got second chances would probably hit me smack in the head with a stiff gourd. yes i was THAT STUPID… i let her go again

and this time, i lost her for good

now what does that gotta do with voldemort:
1. i “killed” a perfectly good relationship thinking that if i did, then i would probably be better off (wrong)
2. doing so made me lose half of my soul (she was THE ONE)
3. as a result, i am left with just half a man that i should have been… a half-life… incomplete

now don’t go running around thinking that i haven’t really moved on. i did, i tried really hard (as in. count the number of beds i’ve been in). now i found someone who loves me so dearly and i love just as much

it’s just that being in touch again is just bringing everything back. i wanted to be cool about the fact that everything is over and i really can’t change anything. i give credit to those people who tell me that not everything i want i get. they’re right. they are soooooo right. damn.

but fact remains, i’m still an incomplete person

now this is the part where i transform from voldemort to sam milby

i want to be… complete

hehehehehe enjoy the rest of your life people

i’m sick T_T

i woke up with a tummy ache and it never left me the whole morning. no cause for alarm, it’s just mild. it’s like i swallowed a large balloon or something

then i feel fever coming. must have been the rain. i got drizzled on yesterday when we went out for lunch. my voice started getting hoarse for two straight days of talking with a bunch of rowdy Managers hehehe

for god’s sake why are the vents all pointed at me.

i’m going down with the flu huuhuhuu

biding my time

what a way to kill time.

i’m in this computer cafe squinting over dull yellow lighting typing black greasy keys. Ew.

keyword for the decade, at least for moi, INCONVENIENCE

i hate it when people / institutions cause me unnecessary inconvenience. less than an hour ago, on public transport, i almost threw this stupid young person’s coins on her not so pretty face. imagine, you all board a jeep and they chose to lump themselves by the door, ergo setting them a couple of meters away from the driver’s outstretched hands. AND THEN THEY WANT ME TO PASS THEIR FARE ON. STUPID MUTHAFUCKIN BITCH

i quitted from my wonderful wonderful (read: barf, barf) company in an effort to free myself from the unnecessary inconveniences of working as a slave in one of the country’s biggest machines. imagine working till ungodly hours without even knowing why the fuck are you doing it in the first place.

so there i was enjoying my freedom from those awful chains. and yeah, being a very good boy, i get rewarded for the years of presenting my bare back (that’s bare back note brokeback you pervert) for whipping (ouch!). and the only condition is… wait for two months. what the heck, two kmonths won’t be that long. problem is… it’s almost three months and i still didn’t get it. STUPID MUTHAFUCKIN err… thing. it seems like the pain and inconveniences brought about by being associated with slavedrivers isn’t enough. it’s like you really need pain up to the last morsels of your flesh. like, right before they totally let you go, they have to make you suffer one last time. i hate it, i hate it. damn

the genius that is macchiato

tall iced decaf caramel macchiato

tall iced decaf caramel macchiato

tall iced decaf caramel macchiato

drink of choice for the coffeeholic me who needs to cut down on the caffeine intake otherwise when i cut myself coffee will spew out of my very veins.

had a scare the other day. i think i had palpitation (O_o). just felt it for about three seconds, my heart literally banged in my chest like mad. no its not the kind i get when someone sinfully edible-looking passes by. made me think. i need to drink more water this time heheh

but, but, but (there’s a big butt here and it’s not mine), nothing can really come between me and my caramel macchiato. a recent pleasant discovery actually. i used to have mocha with all sorts of shots.

we had coffee (weee), my evil friends and i. a lot of catching up. we haven’t seen each other for a while and yet you can really feel how close we are. we basically know each and everyone’s dirty little secrets and moldy skeletons in the closet hehehe. what amazes me though is how different we are now compared to several years ago when we use to go out for (make a guess ^^,) coffee. back then we talked about how we’re managing as corporate slaves and how some of us would actually enjoy the torture. now, well things have changed. some of us got married, got kids and all. some are planning to follow that path. others (ehem ehem) chose a different, kinkier route – singlehood by choice. man we’re old. people in their late twenties / early thirties.

nonetheless, i hold up my macchiato for a toast:

to jozee and her (futile) attempt to leave

to tube and her (futile) attempt for birth control

to ed and her (futile) attempt to settle down and be taken seriously by a man

to martha and her (futile) attempt to be stay away from us (we love you kahit WWNTPKKPK)

to KB and her (futile) attempt to errr…. comprehend

to me and my (futile) attempt to keep my pants on (har har har)

and to everyone out there living their lame, futile lives but enjoying the ride nonetheless. here’s to you!