Illusions of Santa Claus

Every Christmas for the past few years, I have been tasked to write a letter to my sister, under the pseudonym of Santa Clause. Its our way of keeping the magic and spirit of Christmas alive for my little sister. But every year, I'm faced with a dilemma though. As she gets older, her questions get more complicated, her requests a little more harder to give. This year for example, she asked for a real puppy, a request my parents weren't too keen on granting. Therefore, I also had to act as a public relations officer, and explain to my sister in Santa's demeanor, why its not possible for her to receive a puppy for Christmas. This year, she also wanted to receive a picture of Santa Clause with Mrs. Clause and Santa's Little Helpers. I had trouble finding a decent enough picture of Santa's Helpers, so I once again had to improvise a bit. Here's the rest of my Christmas letter. And if there was a real Santa, I think I can work for you as your P.R. agent.

Dearest Raisa,

Ho! Ho! Ho! Merry Christmas! I hope you like the present I gave you. Thank you for being such a good girl this past year, that’s why you deserve a wonderful gift this Christmas. But I noticed that you have been a little bit naughty a few times, like when you did not return your toys and school materials after using them, or when you had temper tantrums. Remember, Santa sees everything you do, both the good things and the bad things.

I see that you have written me a long letter this time and asked me a lot of questions. You are growing up to become a very inquisitive person, and this is good. If you don’t know what the word “inquisitive” means, ask your parents. It is hard for Santa to give live pets such as dogs during Christmas. The journey from the North Pole is long and hard, and a dog might get too tired from the trip. Also, we cannot put small animals in boxes and wrap them with ribbons because it could hurt them. However, I am allowing your parents to buy you a pet of your choice within the year.

Yes, it is very cold where I live, freezing cold in fact. But do not worry, my house has a fireplace that keeps me and Mrs. Claus warm all the time. I also wear clothes that keep me warm from the trip from the North Pole to all of the children’s houses all over the world.

I always read the letters you children write to me. I read them as soon as you put your letter on the Christmas tree. How do I know that you’ve already placed your letters? It’s a secret! This gives me more time for me and my assistants to find the special gift you deserve.

You also asked for me to give you a picture of myself and Mrs. Claus together. Here it is. I hope you like it. My elves are very shy, and they do not like pictures being taken of them.

There, I hope I was able to answer all of your questions. I am truly happy to see what kind of person you are growing up to be. Remember to always love your parents and thank them for everything they do for you. I want you to be more helpful, more respectful, and more sharing for the coming year. And being more neat and tidy with your surroundings and yourself will not hurt either. I hope that you will not forget me, even as you grow a little older each year. Who knows, next Christmas, I might make an exception and give you the dog you want…

Until Next Christmas,
Santa (Ho! Ho! Ho!)

AN ODE TO MY IPOD

Where have you been all my life? I first met you 1 1/2 years ago. You were given to me as a gift, which back then I was hesitant to accept, just because I thought I didn't deserve you yet. But as the fates would allow, I took you in my hands, and your prisitine and immaculate aesthetic captivated me. I had to have you. You were bought for me, at 0% interest for 12 months. And I was happy. I kept your receipt, just in case something terrible befell you during your warranty period. I bought you a jet-black leather case to house you in, and that is where you have been since. Although at times, I would take you out of your abode and just admire your beauty. I would gently wipe away the prints, fuss over your small scratches, which I know gave you character, implore you to never leave me, and dread the day when I am faced with no ther choice but to get an upgrade. But until that time comes, I am loyal only to you.

You have been a constant and loyal companion to me. You were with me during the slow days, as well as the fast times. You were with me when I took serene walks and panicked half-jogs. You are with me during my travels to and from work, with me clasping you hard in my palm. You were always present during long waits, content to entertain me with your service. You have waited with me during flight delays, kept me company during self-imposed alone times. Whenever I felt like hiding from the world and drowning out the noise of the everyday crowd, I turn to you for refuge. Although your battery life isn't as long as what was promised me, I have no regrets. Whatever time we spend together, with you giving the music and me just taking it all in, is worth the time of waiting for you to finish your customary 3-hour charge.

But I also have my responsibilities to you. I take it upon myself as a personal responsibility, to keep you abreast with the latest offerings from the musical world. It is my duty to mold you into a well-rounded machine. As regularly as I can, I load you up with tunes that span different genres and musical fields. I diligently update you with music, which I believe improves your character and gives you personality. Although I must admit that I have instilled a little too much classical and world music and less of the contemporary, mainstream music that people are accustomed to. But then again, I have never lent you to anyone except to hear a few snippets of music. I love you just the way you are. And like a proud parent, I am happy with just how you turned out to be. With 2500 songs tucked in your vast memory, you are now the eclectic and cultured machine I envisioned you to be.

You have provided the musical score to my life. A smile never fails to paint my face whenever you play a song that I love. I always keep your playlists at random, giving you the freedom to play whatever you like. I also enjoy being pleasantly surprised at your choices. You have never failed to make my heart soar by playing inspiring music from Adiemus and Enya. You made me rock out to tunes from The Who, The Red Hot Chili Peppers, Franz Ferdinand, The Killers, and Linkin Park. You have made me realize my childhood fantasies of becoming a knight and living in a world of magic by making me listen to musical scores from gifted composers such as Hans Zimmer, John Williams, and Howard Shore. You appeased my occasional longing for a religious outlet by having Bukas Palad and The Mormon Tabernacle Choir in your playlist. You also keep my dreams of becoming a balladeer alive by making me sing to Brian McKnight or John Mayer, and even James Ingram. You've also taught me. Yes, you have given me a crash course in music appreciation by making me hear classics from the Beatles, Lenny Kravitz, Motown, and The Rolling Stones. Thanks to you, I now know that Beethoven was not just a dog and I can pronounce Tchaikovsky with pride. Although sometimes you make me blush when you play what few Britneys and JLOs you have in your system, but thats what the skip button is for.

Now you see how important you are to me? I find my day to be lacking if I don't get to listen to your voice, if only for 15 minutes. In the short time we have been acquainted, you have evolved to become an extension of my life. We have both been through things during this span of time. You are more worn out, a little tired, with a few battle scars to show. I am a little bit wiser, with a life more meaningful because of the music you provided. I am writing this now because I feel you slowly slipping away from me. Your battery life is shorter than ever, and your grand children are shaping up to be beautiful as well. I figured that I should offer a homage to you before everything is lost and I do find that replacement unit. But rest assured that until that day comes that I won't be able to force the life out of you, when the beauty of music has finally left your memory, I will stick it out with you.

DLSU Survey

Non-Lasallians also welcome!!

( ) got caught by the DO (I was a good boy all throughout my tenure. Boring)
(x) wore inappropriate attire (I wore shorts during summer classes, does that count?)
(x) watched a UAAP la salle vs ateneo game live in araneta (you can't be called a Lasallian unless you experience this!)
(x) ate at AGNO (Even if I know it wasn't clean, what the heck. I'll have chicken teriyaki any day!)
( ) smoked at AGNO (I don't smoke, but I've hung around Agno with people who smoked)
(x) hungout at AGNO (See above)
(x) hungout at a friend's condo
(x) sung the alma mater (who hasn't?)
(x) swam at the olympic size swimming pool (I had swimming for P.E. - not my choice!)
(x) had class in all the buildings (even in the hidden building known as Mutien Marie)
(x) used the football field (We used to sit there a lot for R.O.T.C.)
(x) hung out in ampitheater (especially when I was an irreg)
(x) watched something during the u-break in the ampitheater (a number of concerts and political rallies)
(x) cross enrolled
(x) be a 1st honors dean's lister (Of course!)
(x) be a 2nd honors dean's lister (Most definitely)
( ) got a 0.0 (almost got one during the 1st term of my freshman year. I had to beg my Algebra prof to pass me, and he did!)
(x) got a 4.0 (i'm no stranger to this)
(x) ate in mcdonalds (who hasn't?)
(x) ate in UM (i remember eating at a Japanese place named Taketori aka Bamboo Bird)
(x) ate somewhere outside near the campus
(x) borrow/reserved something in the IMS (I borrowed projectors numerous times, I even broke a projector lamp)
( ) got a major or minor offense (like i said, i was a model student)
( ) went out with 5 or more blockmates during freshmen year (i'll have to pass from answering this question)
(x) walked around the campus with 4 or more blockmates after freshmen year (like sheep being led to a slaughter)
(x) cut a class together with blockmates (I may be a good student, but it didn't stop me from cutting class. and oh, dean's listers can cut class anytime they feel like it)
(x) begged for a higher grade during course card distribution (i did try, but as for my success rate, thats another story)
(x) adjust (early adjustments days were usually the most stressful days in my life)
(x) be active in an organization (POPS Orchestra and a little bit of TAPAT)
(x) be a member of TAPAT or SANTUGON
(x) be stereotyped by others according to your college (what college does good-looking fall into?)
(x) get an alarm sound when you scan your id (South Gate scanners suck)
(x) talked to your LAMB aside from LPEP (Not after the freshman year, although one of my LAMBS is in my Friendster)
( ) been deceived by the false names of professors in the on-line enrollment (I usually do a background check on professors before I enroll
( ) paid surcharge (I don't like the hassle)
(x) went to the chapel (Believe it or not, I actually did - numerous times)
(x) heard mass (does the Baccalaureate Mass count?)
( ) visited the museum (unfortunately not)
(x) knew a xerox lady (and got a discount because of it)
(x) slept in the library (during downtimes when everyone else had class)
(x) got to know mang jack (give me a LaSallian who hasn't heard of him. but was the question referring to getting to know Mang Jack intimately? Then i'll have to say hell no!)
(x) got to know jenny (oh yes, she/he even shared an umbrella with me during one of the rainy days)
(x) got/gave something from/to someone during the valentines week (i gave roses to all of my girl friends, note the separation of the words girl and friends)
( ) had a class after 6:00 pm (I had a couple of 6 - 9 exams though)
(x) talked about someone passing by while on a bench in SJ walk (my favorite pasttime! making fun of the people who walked in SJ, evil at its best!)
(x) studied in conservatory (Especially during my HUMBIO days. When I shifted to marketing, the conserv was mainly used as a cooling station)
(x) printed somewhere near outside the campus (I even had stuff laminated)
(x) typed somewhere near outside the campus (for a trimester, Alva and Netopia became a second home)
(x) crammed (as much as I hated cramming, you just can't help it)
(x) did a last minute paper (i should'nt be admitting to this)
(x) dated a lasallian
(x) had a crush on your blockmate (my first girlfriend was a blockmate)
(x) had a crush on your classmate (classmates)
(x) had a crush on your professor (her name was Ms. Lee, and she taught Chem Lab)
(x) had a crush on a schoolmate (hanging out in SJ Walk will do this to you)
(x) attended a seminar outside lasalle (Mostly for Marketing, and they were expensive!)
( ) talked to a lasallian celebrity (I don't really give high regard to Lasallian celebrities)
( ) slept in a class (I don't have the balls to do this)
(x) had a lasallian girlfriend/boyfriend
( ) been in a conflict with a professor (you mean fist-fight?, nope)
(x) witness pda inside the campus (oh yes, the horrors!)
(x) use a computer in the computer laboratories (to enroll, to type, to surf - name it, i've done it)
( ) be drunk somewhere near outside the campus (i only very recently discovered the evils of alcohol
( ) forget your ID at home (this was my biggest fear back in the day, fortunately, it never happened)
(x) get exempted from finals (about a couple of times)
( ) stay at school till 10:00 or later (i didn't love LaSalle enough to do this)
(x) actually read a whole article in The Lasallian (read it from cover to cover)
(x) actually read a whole article in Plaridel (read it from cover to cover)
(x) took time to look at the 'Proudly Lasallian' stands in the campus (i think i remember doing this)
(x) thought that yuchengco restrooms are the best restrooms (cleanest and biggest!)
(x) shifted / planned to shift (succeeded in shifting - from HUMBIO to Marketing)
(x) read a whole book borrowed at the library (i even read a whole book IN the Library
(x) eat inside the classroom (even at the Science laboratories, with dead stuff and all)
( ) get a txt or call with your cellphone not in silentmode during class (always kept my phone on silent mode while in class. Loser)
(x) spend money for 1X1 ID picture
(x) break something in the laboratory (both beakers and test tubes )
(x) ask the library for an endorsement (i accidentally returned a book late, i couldn't enroll. Imagine the hassle!)
(x) entered the thesis room in the library (by the time I graduated from DLSU, I was a common sight in the library)
(x) searched a professor in the DLSU website (probably when i was doing background checks on them)
( ) park in the beach (never brought a car througout my stay there, i've hung around the beach though)
( ) park in Sports Complex (i've hung out at the SC parking lot though)
(x) eat siomai (inside or outside near the school) (siomai in Z2 rocks!)
(x) tasked to photocopy for a bunch of people (earned me a few pogi points as well)
(x) enter a job fair in campus (came close to getting a job there)
(x) buy a raffle ticket, donate something, sign a signature campaign inside the campus (never won though)
(x) sell raffle tickets, ask for donations, made people sign signature campaigns inside the campus (i've did my share of this)
(x) watch something at night in the yuchengco theater
( ) make a video for a class project
(x) make a powerpoint presentation (oh yes)
(x) give a very low evaluation to a professor (this was the only way to get back at them)
(x) eat inside the java cafe (they have good chicken there.)
( ) be pissed with a guard (never paid much attention to them)
(x) go to the clinic (for the dreaded Physical Exams! ugh!)
( ) nearly reached / reached excess absences (i don't have to worry about this, me being in the DL and all...)
(x) pick a popular professor (what were my background checks for if not for this)
(x) be the one to make the 'mass overload sound' in an elevator (I laughed at people who have had this unfortunate event happen to them, until i experienced it myself. Man, ego burst)
(x) buy something in the bookstore (test booklets, text books, the rare greeting card)
( ) lose your cellphone (i'm proud to say that i haven't lost a phone...yet)

A BOOK THAT WILL HOPEFULLY CHANGE MY LIFE

Here's the book I've been raving about for the past couple of entries. The Perks of Being A Wallflower by Stephen Chbosky.

I can compare it to JD Salinger's The Catcher And The Rye in a modern (early 90's) setting, given an MTV-esque twist. Its basically a coming of age story of a young boy (I would say young man, given the level of his introspectiveness) who is described to be a wallflower, going on a journey of self-discovery. I found this book to be very moving and relevant to my life. If only everyone would have the chance to read this book at an early age, the world would probably be a better off place (Ha!, hows that for a testimonial).

Thanks to the people who forced me to read this book, it turned out to be a very reflective and hopefully, life-changing experience for me reading it.

Another moving poem, taken from the book "The Perks of Being A Wallflower" by Stephen Chbosky. Makes you feel good to be alive

UNTITLED

Once on a yellow piece of paper with green line

he wrote a poem

And he called it "Chops"

because that was the name of his dog

And that's what it was all about

And his teacher gave him an A

and a gold star

And his mother hung it on the kitchen door

and read it to his aunts

That was the year Father Tracy

took all the kids to the zoo

And he let them sing on the bus

And his little sister was born

with tiny toenails and no hair

And his mother and father kissed a lot

And the girl around the corner sent him a

Valentine signed with a row of X's

and he had to ask his father what the X's meant

And his father always tucked him in bed at night

And was always there to do it

Once on a piece of white paper with blue lines

he wrote a poem

And he called it "Autumn"

because that was the name of the season

And that's what it was all about

And his teacher gave him an A

and asked him to write more clearly

And his mother never hung it on the kitchen door

because of its new paint

And the kids told him

That Father Tracy smoked cigars

And left butts on the pews

And sometimes they would burn holes

That was the year his sister got glasses

with thick lenses and black frames

And the girl around the corner laughed

when he asked her to go see Santa Claus

And the kids told him why

his mother and father kissed a lot

And his father never tucked him to bed at night

And his father got mad

when he cried for him to do it.

Once on a paper torn from his notebook

he wrote a poem

And he called it "Innocence: A Question"

because that was the question about his girl

And that's what is was all about

And his professor gave him an A

and a strange steady look

And his mother never hung it on the kitchen door

because he never showed her

That was the year Father Tracy died

And he forgot how the end

of the Apostle's Creed went

And he caught his sister

making out on the back porch

And his mother and father never kissed

or even talked

And the girl around the corner

wore too much makeup

That made him cough when he kissed her

but he kissed her anyway

because that was the thing to do

And at three A.M. he tucked himself into bed

his father snoring soundly

That's why on the back of a brown paper bag

he tried another poem

And he called it "Absolutely Nothing"

Because that's what it was all about

And he give himself an A

and a slash on each damned wrist

And he hung it on the bathroom door

because this time he didn't think

he could reach the kitchen

One of my favorite poems:

Children

Works of Kahlil Gibran

And a woman who held a babe against her bosom said, 'Speak to us of Children.'

And he said:

Your children are not your children.

They are the sons and daughters of Life's longing for itself.

They come through you but not from you,

And though they are with you, yet they belong not to you.

You may give them your love but not your thoughts.

For they have their own thoughts.

You may house their bodies but not their souls,

For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow, which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams.

You may strive to be like them, but seek not to make them like you.

For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday.

You are the bows from which your children as living arrows are sent forth.

The archer sees the mark upon the path of the infinite, and He bends you with His might that His arrows may go swift and far.

Let your bending in the archer's hand be for gladness;

For even as he loves the arrow that flies, so He loves also the bow that is stable.

On Being A Wallflower

I read a fantastic short novel over the week end. Its called "The Perks of Being A Wallflower" by Stephen Chbosky. A friend who introduced me to this book apparently saw me in the main character of the story when she read it, and consequently persuaded me to read it as well. I read this book in one sitting over the course of two and a half hours on a Friday night. The story made such an impression and struck a chord that I had to read it again on Sunday.

I remember being called a Wallflower back when I was still in highschool. No one bothered to explain what the term meant, but being the naive person that I was at the time, I remember being offended at being called a wallflower. My idea of a wallflower was a person who no one bothered to pay attention to - the type of person nobody wanted to dance with during the prom and other social events. In an age where acceptance was all that mattered, being called a wallflower and having a misconception with the term's definition was enough to burst someone's ego. Until very recently, this was how shallow my definition of a wallflower was. The book defined a wallflower as someone who sees...and understands. He is content to stand outside the fringes of life and observe what is happening, content not to meddle in circumstances both mundane and meaningful. A person who chooses to retreat to his solitary shell and resolve things on his own, rather than inconvenience the people around him. He is a person who listens and is good at it, but chooses not to involve himself for fear of rejection and being hurt. With these definitions, I accept myself at being a Wallflower.

I was surprised to find how similar I was to the main character in terms of his introspectiveness with the events happening around him. The way he gets affected and emotional at the slightest things vividly reminded me of my awkward years. I was particularly struck by one of the lines in the story when he said that being alone and spending time alone used to be so easy for him. This still holds true for me today in some ways. "Participating", the term used for being involved in other people's lives is something i've only learned to do very recently, and the truth is - there are still a lot of factors (or hang-ups, whatever you may call them) holding me back and keeping me from devoting myself to fully participate in life. In my heart, I know I am ready and should be ready to live and be involved, but in my mind, warning signs flash in my head that tell me that I might get burned. This is my internal conflict. This is what I have to live with everyday until I gather up the courage and will to overcome my demons. I end this entry with a memorable line from the book, which the main character says will never forget for the rest of his life. I personally believe it is open to many interpretations, depending on the mood or state of mind one is in. In the same light, I too, will never forget this statement: "We accept the love we deserve."

I made my Christmas shopping list this morning and I made a realization, though not at all surprising if you knew me well, that made me ponder on the extent of my involvement in all things social: I have kept in touch with very few people over the years. What made me come to this conclusion? I was able to finish my holiday list in about 30 seconds - family and friends included.

While people may always quote the cliche that its not in the quantity of friends one has, but in the quality, I still find it mildly disturbingto realize that I've virtually lost contact with the people I considered good friends from a period of 5 years ago and less. And it's not that i've burned bridges with all of them, but more of a matter of just being too preoccupied with other things at the time.

Of course, the blame for this can only be pointed at me. I know that if i'd only made the time and given enough effort, I wouldn't be at the current state i'm in regarding friendships. No, I am not feeling pitiful at myself for the lack of depth in my social network...yet. I even consider myself lucky for having what set of friends I keep myself up to speed with. They are all gems in my book. But I guess it wouldn't hurt to have a few more meaningful connections. Although the upside is that you have fewer names to remember for the holidays, the trade-off could be a life-time of pondering why you let a what would have been good friendship slip away because you were too lazy to do anything about it...

What I Did On My Birthday

I turned 23 last October 18. Since that day, people have been asking me what productive activity I did during my birthday. I guess they were expecting me to give an answer like, "I spent the day with friends and loved ones by my side, as I looked back on the past 365 days of my life with them. After which, I had a sumptuous dinner with my family to put a cap on a very special and memorable day." When I tell them that I hid from the world on my birthday, and that it was by choice, they get worried, even to the point of asking if i'm depressed.

Well no, I'm not depressed at all. In fact, I feel positively rejuvenated. I guess taking a 1-day sabbatical (if you can call it that) from society, especially on your birthday can do wonders for one's soul. Although I wouldn't recommend it to everyone. Being alone during one's birthday requires strong resolve.

So yes, I was alone on my "special" day for most of the day, and the only form of communication I had with the people I know consisted of texting the phrase "Thanks ____(your name here)!" whenever someone sent a greeting. But that didn't mean my day wasn't productive. I'm going to answer the question people have been asking me for the past couple of days. Here's what I did on my birthday.

1. I was able to renew my driver's license - I spent my morning at the nearest LTO office going through the motions of having my driver's license renewed. I don't know who's bright idea it was from the LTO to have the expiry date of your license to fall on the date of your birth. This errand forced me to put my self-imposed exile on hold for about 2 hours as I filled out forms, peed into a cup, posed for a headshot, and parted with my cash, all for the sake of being allowed to drive on the streets of Manila.

2. I practiced my cooking - I had the nerve to tell my mom that I would take care of fixing my own lunch and not bother the household help. Already being an expert in preparing my favorite dish - beef salpicao, I sucked up the courage to experiment in the kitchen and apply the same recipe to a more delicate meat...fish. I was pleasantly surprised at the outcome of my cooking efforts. My bangus salpicao actually tasted good! Although I had a minor mishap early on while sauteing garlic. My adventurous side got the better of me as I decided to pour a dollop of honey over frying garlic. Man, i've never seen garlic burn, turn black, and make smoke that fast.

3. I caught up with my DVD-Watching - I was able to watch a couple of movies as well as a number of episodes of the TV series i'm currently addicted to. I saw Black Hawk Down, a number of episodes of the Office, and (Gasp!) The Little Mermaid on DVD. Reminds me of the days when I didn't have to worry about going to work...simply because I had none.

4. Was able to start reading again - I started browsing up on one of my favorite books, for the simple reason that I'm planning to try it out in the office sometime and see if it actually works. The title? 48 Laws of Power by Robert Greene. A must for would-be future power-grabbers and power-hungry individuals.

So you see, my birthday wasn't all that bad. In fact, I think I spent it wisely. Depending on the type of social creature you are, spending your birthday this way may either depress or rejuvenate you. I'm glad the latter happened to me. I hope this answered the questions people have been asking me all week. And no, I'm not depressed.

23 Things I Want Now That I'm 23

1. Visit another country with my own money
2. Take up cooking and see if I have the passion for it
3. Become fit and take boxing classes
4. Learn to play the guitar on my own (I already bought the book)
5. Establish a business, no matter how small it is
6. Travel alone for the first time
7. Begin playing the "game" in the workplace
8. Become promiscuous and play around
9. Increase the investments in my UITF account
10. Get into investing in stocks
11. Become a foodie / gourmand
12. Overcome my fear of dating
13. Test the waters
14. Become famous... ok, semi-famous will do
15. Do something extreme, like jumping off a building
16. Sing in a band or a choir
17. Begin showing people the full extent of my potential
18. Work on my socializing skills, and become a social butterfly
19. Look into the possibility of living on my own
20. Give the oldest profession a try :)
21. Explore other opportunities for work
22. Try an illegal substance
23. Live long enough to make another list

On Footsies and Being "Sucked"

As I mentioned in my previous post, I came back a week ago from a business trip to China, Xiamen in particular. This was a very memorable trip for me, partly because I got to experience many different things for the first time in my life. In this instance, it was my first time to have a foot massage, a pedicure, and a ventosa massage - all in a single night!

We had just arrived in Shuitou, which is about 45 minutes away from Xiamen, and were having dinner with our hosts. One of our hosts informed us that Shuitou is an area known for their foot massages and that they were going to treat us to a foot massage session after dinner. I nearly hurled at the prospect of subjecting myself to a foot massage. Me - getting a foot massage?! Being the uptight person that I am, I am notoriously known for being conscious with my feet. I don't even want anybody staring at my feet, and now someone's actually going to be touching and prodding it! Bullets of sweat began developing in my body as my stress level reached an all-time high. What made this worse was that we had been travelling the whole day and I was pretty sure that my foot would be pretty funky at that time. So I half-dragged myself to the foot massage place which was just across our hotel and expected the worst.

As we entered the foot massage place, warning signs began flashing in my head saying that I shouldn't be here. The place was dimly lit and it wasn't really the cleanest of places. I still had the chance to fake a migraine and escape, but decided in the end to find my balls and subject myself to the experience. They made us all sit in these lounge chairs and served us orange juice (to calm the nerves, perhaps?). As I was waiting for the "therapists" to arrive, a flurry of thoughts came to my mind - "would they be dressed in an attire that would give away the seedy nature of the place?", "would they even have complete set of teeth?", "are they going to offer me anything other than a foot massage, that I wouldn't know how to respond to?" When the girls arrived, I was pleasantly surprised - they didn't look bad at all! Most of them were my age, some were even younger than I was (I'm 22 by the way), and they didn't look slutty at all. They were dressed in a uniform, athletic attire (shirt and jogging pants), looking as if they did jogging for a living, rather than the excuisite art of foot manipulation. My therapist looked like a healthier, better-fed version of Lucy Liu, I would have posted pictures of my therapist with this entry, but I haven't had the time to upload them yet, another time then.

Being the social animal that I was, I was naturally out of my element once again. I was pretty sure that all color had left me from the embarassment I was about to subject myself to, thank heavens that the light was already dim to begin with so I was spared the shame of the therapist seeing the fear in my face. Her being Chinese and me being the ignorant foreigner who didn't bother to learn a shred of her language, this would pose the problem with communication. And it manifested early on when she was pointing to something at my feet, only to realize that I was still wearing my shoes when she was about to start the therapy. God help me through this.

My shoes and my socks are finally off and I don't smell anything cheesy. Its funny when you think hard to will something not to happen, and it doesn't. At this point, i'm like a fish out of water waiting for whats going to happen next, as she brings a big basin of what appears to be a colored liquid. 5 seconds later, as she gestures me to soak my feet in the concoction, I find out that this turns out to be newly boiled water infused with tea. Damn, was the water hot!! Have you ever had feeling of so much heat, that you begin to feel cold at the same time? Thats what I felt. As I was mouthing the words "Hot, hot, hot" to my tormentor (therapist), all she could do was giggle at my predicament. After a few moments of pain, she started working her magic on me. She began a series of massages on my back, arms, hands, and neck that took away all the stress from the day's travels. After a few minutes, the heat of the water gradually decreased that resulted in one of the most relaxing sensations i've ever felt on my feet. After what was probably 10-15 minutes of foot soaking and upper body massages, my therapist finally set out to do what she had been trained for...the foot massage.

She told me in Chinese (not that I would understand it) to sit back and relax, as she left for a moment to retrieve her tools of the trade, which looked like something a sculptor would have used (chisels and sand paper). Shortly afterwards, she began the meticulous task of kneading my feet and subjecting it to sensations I have never felt before. As she was doing her thing, sand-papering my callouses, rubbing what seemed to be lotion while at the same time massaging my ankles, she must have noticed that I had problem with my feet (they were ugly). She called another one of the therapists to come over, a man this time. Oh no, what did I get myself into?! This man comes, along with his own tools, consisting of hooks and tweezers this time, and proceeded to work on my feet as well. I was tag-teamed!! I've heard of tandem massages before, but i've never heard of tandem foot massages! One person ( Lucy Liu) was giving my feet a massage, while the man was giving me a pedicure! I was past feeling shame at this point seeing the man remove all of my ingrown toenails in front of everybody, so I just swallowed my embarrasment and tried to salvage what dignity I had left by just enjoying myself. And enjoy the experience I did!

But the night was not to end with just a simple massage and pedicure. At this point, I would have charged everything to experience and be happy just to have a chance to experience two new activities for the first time. The man must have noticed that I really did have a problem with something, as he was talking to our hosts regarding what he wants to do to me. As I didn't understand anything, I was fearful of what could happen. When the man had the blessing of my hosts, he literally pulled me from the group and led to me to a long dark hallway, into a small, windowless room with a bed. "Mommy, please help me!!" As if this was not scary enough, he gestured for me to take off my clothes, my pants in particular! I was praying hard that I don't get raped tonight. I'm all for new experiences, but i'm not about ready to get raped by man in any circumstance. Sensing the fear in my eyes, the man took pity on me and showed me what he was going to do. He lifted up his shirt and showed me his back, and I was part-disgusted, part-amazed, and part-"wet-my-pants" fearful of what I saw: 10 huge, dark-red circles placed side by side across the whole of his back. This is what they call a Ventosa Massage. I don't know exactly what it does for the body, but from what I heard, its purpose is to "suck" out the cold air from inside the body, which causes the aches, pains, and other distresses in a person. This is done by lighting cups with fire then pressing it against the body. This would cause the skin to welt up and produce blood clots. Now that I knew the purpose of his actions, I reluctantly removed my pants (he was going to put cups on my legs as well) and lied down on the bed, in anticipation of the event.

As he placed the cup near my legs, he lit the inside with a torch, then immediately pressed it against my legs. He did this about 6 times in different locations on my leg. What I saw happening to me, took me in disbelief. My skin was literally being sucked by the cup! As the cup was clear glass, I could see the skin on my leg almost filling up the entirec up, while it was slowly turning blood red. There wasn't really any pain, it was more like your skin being pulled, stretched, pinched. He asked me to lie still and left the cups on my legs for about 15 minutes. Upon removing it, you could literally hear the pressure (imagine the sound of someone hitting a tennis ball with a racket, thats what it sounded like) come off. At this point, I thought it was over. Then he gestured that I take off my shirt as well! Oh no, he's not planning on turning my back into a human chessboard like his, isn't he? Apparently, that was his plan, as he made me lie face down on the bed and he brought out more cups for my back. He repeated the same process as he did to my legs, but this time, I felt pain. And it was painful I tell you. My theory is that since my back is closer to the spine, you have more pain receptors in the back area. To cut things short, he placed about 12 cups on my back, and I could feel my skin being pulled to its limits. I had imaginations of my skin actually bursting and all of my guts spilling out. Thankfully, nothing like that ever happened. After all was done, the man gestured to me that what he did would actually make me strong (he was flexing in front of me). And I honestly believed him, as faith was all I had at that point, dignity had left 10 minutes into the session.

And so, after my experience, the circles had turned to ugly bruises which by now have not yet disappeared (its been more than a week since). I took a picture of my back to prove to people that I really did go through it. I'm now wiser and more experienced. I'm happy to have been subjected to things I wouldn't normally have thought of doing. On a single night, i've been prodded, experienced a footsie, and "sucked". Life can't get any better than that.

Power Failure

Just got back from a business trip in Xiamen, China last week. While I could say that my first trip to the mainland followed by a one night lay-over in Hong Kong was memorable, I could also say that the scene that greeted me upon my return to the home country was memorable, in a "I wish I could skip this part of my life" kind of way.

I came back to the Philippines following the aftermath of the worst typhoon to hit the country in 11 years. 11 frickin' years, for chrissake! This typhoon could not have picked a better time to arrive and ravage the country than when I was set to return. I was excited to come back home, bringing with me Royce Nama chocolates and an assortment of DVDs I was looking forward to devouring. Upon touching down at the airport and stepping off onto the arrival area, my worst fears were realized...there was no electricity. I began to fear for my chocolates, felt sick at the prospect of not being able to watch my new DVDs, and yearning to get back on the plane and tell the pilot to jet me back to Hong Kong.

Despite the lack of electricity and the sweltering heat I expected to face when I got home, I kept my hopes up that everything will be back to normal in no time. I managed to even cheer myself up by keeping myself amused at the destruction the storm left in its wake and the thought that power will be back once I get home. Boy, was I wrong. 4 nights have passed since I came back from my trip, and we don't have electricity yet! 4 sleepless nights of utter darkness with nothing to do! I'm going crazy. The first night passed, and it was ok at the time. The 2nd night was still tolerable. The 3rd night came, and I was beginning to lose my sanity. The 4th night was just complete hell! I'm already beginning to develop fantasies of throwing Molotov bombs at the nearest power company office. What did I do to the chocolates and DVDs I brought back from my trip? I nearly made myself sick finishing off 2 boxes of chocolate in a day, and my DVDs have began to gather dust in my shelf - unappreciated and unwatched.

What did I ever do to deserve to be thrown back to an age where the light bulb didn't exist yet and the electric fan was stuff of science fiction? The romaticism of eating dinner by candlelight has already left me days ago. I'm already tired of going to bed at 8 PM. Will somebody just bring back the power?

Yesterday, Today, and Tomorrow 1

Yesterday I...
1. Stayed in the office until 6:30 PM (my officemates thought I was running a fever)
2. Walked around the mall for 2 hours non-stop, waiting for my dad to pick me up
3. Nearly got into a fist fight with an "orc" at the MRT Station (see my blog post below)
4. Couldn't enter the MRT station on my way home because the ticket machine ate my card and refused to spit it out (It was a bad day to ride the MRT for me)
5. Found out that I'm being sent to China for a business trip

Today I...
1. Ate a whole box of Italian Sausage Pizza from Sicilian's
2. Did more internet surfing than work
3. Did not talk for almost the whole duration of the workday (hello bad breath)
4. Got home in time for dinner for the first time this week
5. Read a novel and a magazine instead of busting my ass working (at least I learned something)

Tomorrow I will...
1. Get to go bowling again, after almost two years of not playing
2. Eat at the French restaurant at the Fort that Pam's been raving about, for free!
3. Go to the Asian Food Expo at the World Trade Center
4. Probably stay up late and go home early morning the next day
5. Not work, at all

I nearly got myself into a fight this morning. I was waiting for the train to arrive at the MRT station, when a couple of "orcs" arrive and wait right beside me, without any regard for my personal space. One of the "orcs" was clearly trying to get in front of me, slowly trying to shove me out of the way, even before the train arrived. And it wasn't even crowded to begin with! It was bad enough that he was trying to get one ahead of me, what's worse was he had this stink on him that seemed to shout to the world, "I haven't bathed in days!" The train arrives and hell breaks loose. My regular practice whenever I take the MRT in the morning is that once the doors of the train opens, I usually enter as quick as I possibly can, and make a beeline nearest to the door I will alight from. Since the trip only takes about 10 minutes, I don't bother trying to find a seat. The situation this morning was that the "orc" was intentionally blocking me from entering the train, so that he and his other "orc" companion could be the first ones to enter the train and get first dibs on the "prime" positions. I had already been waiting for the train to arrive for about 10 minutes and I was not going to let a couple of lowlifes take advantage of me by pushing me off. As soon as the train door opens, I jostle my way inside, shoving the orc who was trying to get in my way. But this "orc" was really persistent, and he decided to give me an extra hard push, while I was already standing in place. Finally, it dawned on me, there was tension in the air! I finally blew my top off, telling him, "Tangina mo, bakit mo ko ginigitgit?!" (Motherfucker, why are you pushing me?!) I think the "orc" was just itching to have a fist fight right there and then because he said a particular line that you normally hear from the mouths of schoolyard bullies, "Ano bang gusto mo?!" (What do you want?!) Right there I realized, that this orc didn't have a care in the world if we brawled in front of the crowd, inside of a moving train. I decided that it was not worth my life to pick a fight with an "orc" who didn't have a care in the world if he ended up killing me. The phrase "halang ang bituka" came to my mind while I was contemplating punching the asshole. Thats just how "orcs" are. Today, I learned to pick my battle, and ended up swallowing the bitter pill and turned my back to him. A few moment after this "altercation" took place, I'm pretty sure all color left my face, and had the "orc" continued to egg me on, he would have noticed the fear in me. I was afraid, borderline terrified thinking of the things this orc and his equally ugly companion could do to harm me. They would probably stick me in the back with an icepick for all I care. I thought to myself, what would I have done, should the situation escalated into an all out fist-fight? I would probably have whipped the guy's face with the umbrella I was carrying or probably kicked him in the balls for good measure. Then again, maybe not. I searched my past for events in my life when I had been in a fist-fight, and I could only remember one from my elementary days, and I ended up on the losing side. I realized that given the situation when push came to shove, I won't be able to defend myself physically if I had to. This is what angers me: when people take advantage of me and I can't even do anything to defend or retaliate.

When I Grow Up, I Want to Be...

I used to have all of these ambitions when I was a kid, of jobs I wanted to have when I grew up. My ambitions ranged from being a street-sweeper, to becoming a magician, to being the Neil Armstrong of the Philippine Islands. Fast forward to a few years later, reality has finally sunken it. Here I am, in a profession people label as "safe", brought about by a working, middle class syndrome that we should have secure jobs. Why can't a job be fun for a change? A friend asked me to enumerate the professions that I would want to have, that probably won't make me feel that what i'm doing is work. Here it is, Pam. Some of them may be insane and you might ask me afterwards what kind of an acid trip i'm on. However, there are professions in this list that I'm actually interested in pursuing, given the right time.

1. Food Critic - Wouldn't it be a blast to eat for a living? I dream of days when I won't have to pay for dinner at an upscale restaurant, where restaurant owners and chefs would be shaking at the knees when you step into their establishments, where waiters would be literally throwing themselves at your feet, all for the name of service and a good recommendation.

2. Archaeologist - I remember reading a lot of dinosaur books growing up. I used to remember the names of the different dinosaurs, and one of my favorite things to do to pass the time was to dig holes in our garden and look for "bones". When I was applying for a college, I was even tempted to enroll in Anthropology to get my archaeology career started.

3. Personal Assistant to a Hollywood Celebrity - I've read stories of the exclusivity and luxury this profession offers. The private planes, the 5-star hotels, the island getaways, the swag bags of free stuff! All of this just to manage the pill-popping, cosmetic-surgery driven lives of Hollywood celebs. Heck, i'll take being Jessica Alba's personal slave any time of the day!

4. Chef - I always planned on taking courses on becoming a chef. I even took an introductory cooking class a few years back. Somehow, whenever I think of professions that I know I could do, being a chef always comes up at the top of my list. I guess its time for me to take the initiative and actually give the culinary arts a shot? I think I can give Anthony Bourdain and Gordon Ramsay a run for their money!

5. Musician / Actor - I always believed that I had the potential to become a better actor / musician than half of the people we call "artistas" on TV today. If only some talent scout would spot me while walking around and offered me a job. But then again, don't we all think like this? I personallly think that these actors have it easy. Money is easy and big, and you can't complain that the work is stressful. Now its the musicians who have to at least possess a miniscule amount of talent. They have it a bit harder.

6. Travel Journalist - Having a job that entails having to travel to the ends of the Earth, immersing oneself in new cultures, and soaking oneself in the sights is the ultimate profession for me! If writing is going to help me become a travel journalist, then i'm going to keep churning out these articles til someone takes notice!

7. Sommelier - You know that you're in a different level when your profession requires you to taste an array of wines everyday, from the Napa Valley to the Bordeaux variety. Armed with your trusty spit bucket, you waft and swirl intoxicating spirits away until you drop. If my customers can stand the sight of seeing a sommelier that turns beet red at the sight of alchohol and develops an armpit itch when he's had too much to drink, then I'm all for being a sommelier.

8. Futurist / Trend Watcher - I've seen a program on Discovery Channel where the sole job of this particular department at Samsung was to predict how people will live their lives 10-15 years from now, hence the term "futurist". Wouldn't it be great to daydream and think fantastic thoughts from 9 to 5?

9. Zoologist - I enjoy being in the company of animals, I live and work with them everyday. But seriously, I dreamed of being a zoologist during my formative years, brought about by watching too much National Geographic. And I did get good grades when I took up introductory Zoology and Botany classes in college. I think I would make a good Crocodile Hunter! Crikey!

10. Athlete - Why didn't I take up tennis when I was a kid? Or any sport for that matter. I envy people, athletes specifically, who earn huge amounts from winning competitions and having endorsement deals, and some of them haven't even broken into their 20's yet! If only I knew back then that there was money in sports, I would have asked my parents to enroll me in all of these summer sports classes that were the craze years back.

11. Private Banker - Do you know that there is a shortage of private bankers in the world, given that millionaires are steadily increasing! Hell, lets all take private banking lessons! This might actually work for me, with this set-up, instead of stressing over my own money (which I have very little of, by the way), I get to play with the millions these snotty people we call the affluents have.

12. Eventologist - 10 years ago, nobody would have ever believed you if you said that you planned parties for a living. Today, everyone seems to be an eventologist. Heck, the word eventologist doesn't even exist, its just some person's attempt at being Don King. Whatever term we come up with for people who did this for a living, it would still be damn cool to earn while you partied hard.

13. Pro-Wrestler - I've been watching wrestling since I was a wee lad, and I can't help but be amazed at the athleticism and charisma of these "athletes". And yes, I did dream of becoming the next Hulk Hogan or Undertaker at some point in my life. Now that i'm an adult, its clear to me that wrestling is "fake" to a certain extent and that pure-bred Filipinos are not genetically born to be wrestlers.

Of Malls and Men

Whenever the weekend rolls around, it can only mean 1 thing for me and my family...time to pay our friendly neighborhod mall, Glorietta, a visit. You see, we are your typical, week-end mall- going family. We are part of the statistic that claims malling is the favorite pasttime of Filipinos. Next to our house, we've probably logged the most hours in the mall, doing everything and nothing. I was reared early at being a mall rat. My earliest memories of childhood was going to SM Supermarket in Makati every other Saturday. I would behave back then, because behaving meant that my parents would buy me Goldilock's flavored popcorn afterwards. Somehow, this habit stuck, as I to this day, continue to accompany my parents to the supermarket, which has since been replaced by Landmark, even eventually Rustan's, and my reward for being good has been upgraded from flavored popcorn. Hah!

We may have occasional flings with other malls like Podium or the Powerplant, but in the end, we always end up going back to the mall we love best, Glorietta. For some unverified reason, we always feel that this mall is the most complete establishment we have ever been to. Our week is never complete without dropping by the mall, even if for a few hours, as if doing some catching up with a really close friend. We've seen hundreds of stores come and go. We've witnessed countless renovations, participated in useless promotions (and won nothing), elbowed our way to midnight sales, and predicted the lifespan of retail outlets.

I am a self-professed Glorietta rat, I always to brag to people I know that I can give you a walking tour of Glorietta with my eyes closed. You can even make me walk backwards! If ever Ayala Center decides to launch a tour program, I should be made an honorary tour guide. I practically grew up with Glorietta. Glorietta is the big sister I never had (I'm assuming the mall is a she, cause she's named Glorietta). Being in Glorietta gives me peace and a feeling of security that I even park my car within its premises and commute to work everyday. I describe the feeling as the same emotion you feel when you're at home. In a given week, I would be stepping into the mall's premises 6 days out of 7. But i've rambled on too long about this seemingly trivial topic. I've already revealed to everyone that I am poster-child for malling. This habit, i'm probably never going to be able to quit. In fact, after I publish this post, i'm off to the mall.

I Was (probably am) An Evil Person

The title alone gives it away. I am an evil person, or at least used to be one in my youth. How evil? I would describe myself to be as evil as the kid from the Omen movies, minus being born from a hyena. Don't get me wrong, I don't have a penchant for murdering the people I know (although I almost succeeded at one point), but i've done my share of evil deeds enough to merit growing horns, and springing a forked tail. Now at the time of the occurence of these dark events, I'm pretty sure that I never really meant doing any of those things to anyone. It was just a result of having too much energy and watching too much television. However, looking back and processing some of the things i've done, I could truly say that I was the Devil's Incarnate during my formative years. Here are proofs of my "history of violence"

1. I once whipped a seatbelt right smack into the face of one my schoolmates during my preparatory years. I pretty much busted his lip wide open after that altercation. The reason for my outburst - He called me the bus driver's pet.

2. During numerous times when I was in kindergarten, I cursed the school bus driver a number of times using variations of "You're a fat pig" right to his face.

3. My favorite pastime was pelting the neighbor's front gate with stones. This would cause a reverberating noise to echo into my neighbor's house. When this neighbor came out to see what was causing the racket, I hid in the bushes laughing.

4. I once pushed a classmate of mine down two flights of stairs for teasing me. This was the first time I was afraid that I killed someone. Luckily, he neither died nor suffered any serious injuries. My teacher naturally got angry and wrote a note for my parents. I ended up forging my parent's signature as well.

5. I once punched a man pretending to be a monster when I rode the "Horror Train" during a school fair. He scared me and my natural instinct was to punch away. Whether or not I broke the man's nose, I wouldn't know. But I'm pretty sure I made him bleed.

6. I tried smoking at an early age of 7 by picking up the still smoldering cigarette butts my father threw away after he was through. I know this was disgusting, but I must admit that it was ballsy for me to do it back then.

7. I once was a master at lying through my teeth. I remember lying to people countless times and they would buy it because I always had an innocent, would do no harm look all throughout my youth.

8. I used to pretend to be someone else's child in school. I clung on to the skirts of walking women or talked to accompanied children I didn't knew, in order to get past school security who wouldn't let you leave the premises unaccompanied by an adult.

9. I fractured my brother's arm when were little kids during our wrestling sessions. Its not that I broke his arm that was evil, it was telling my parents that he broke it because he slipped and landed on his hand that was just plain bad.

These are just some of the "evil" things I did in my youth. I know that they're not as murderous as setting our house on fire, or decapitating someone's head clean off, but I'm sure that they're listed in some higher power's book (I used to enumerate my sins when I was young and tell myself that they're listed in God's sin book, whatever that was.). I remember doing more evil deeds when I was young like stealing money from my dad's wallet while he snored, hiding my cousin's toys so I could bring them home later, or making my mother cry by telling her not to mess with my life and saying to her that she's just my mother (brought about by watching too many soaps when I was small). But this is already beside the point that I was real, bad kid growing up. How I outgrew my evil streak, I wouldn't really know. My guess is that its still in me, lying dormant somewhere, just needing the perfect flashpoint to manifest itself once again.

Office Jargon

I've been working in my current company for 7 months. Now if you've been working this long (or short, whichever way one sees it) you're bound to pick up on commonly used workplace jargon. The kicker is that you ultimately begin to adopt some of the terms you hear and regularly use it even in non-work related conversations. I'm going to shed some light into some of my favorite office jargon. I'm going to give the meanings behind the terms, as well as their applications.

1. Flag (Verb) - This is not the flag that you hang out in front of your house and wave about during Independence Day. To "flag" somebody is to let someone know about your future actions or next steps. This is more of like giving a heads up to someone that something is going to happen them in the near future that they must be ready for.
BUSINESS APPLICATION: "Kindly flag our suppliers that we are going to place an order with them for merchandising materials within 2 months time."
NON-WORK CONVERSATION: "I just want to flag you that i'm going to kill you if ever you're late for our dinner plans tonight!"

2. Direct Reports (Noun) - Sounds very important, doesn't it? A direct report is someone who is a few rungs below you in the organizational structure of the workplace. Also see "subordinate"
BUSINESS APPLICATION: "Please relay to your direct reports that their overtime pay will be withheld from them this month due to a shortage of company funds."
NON-WORK CONVERSATION: "Mom, could you please tell our direct reports that i've run out of fresh underwear in my drawer."

3. Junket (Noun) - To go on a junket is to go on an all-expense trip to another country or have a lunch/dinner meeting in an upscale restaurant, all paid for by company credit. While the objective of these extravagant rendezvous may be strictly business at first, it eventually boils down to a perfect excuse for a much needed respite from the daily grind.
BUSINESS APPLICATION: "You better make sure that your trip to Spain won't turn out to be a junket. I'm expecting a report from you once you come back."
NON-WORK CONVERSATION: "Dad, can I have some money? I'm planning to go on a junket tour of the Caribbean Islands."

4. Cascade (Verb) - In normal terms, a cascade is described as the flow of water from a source, such as a breathtaking drop from a waterfall, or a raging surge brought about by a tsunami. In business language, to cascade is to inform people, usually direct reports, of goings on in the company. To cascade something is to inform someone of things that have already happened or are in the process of happening. Not to be confused with "flag".
BUSINESS APPLICATION: "The purpose of this cascade is to let everone know that you are going to be let go of your jobs. We are currently in the process of consolidating our operations."
NON-WORK CONVERSATION: "I would like to cascade to you that I want to break up with you. You're simply too much of a pain in the ass to have a relationship with."

CONFESSIONS OF AN ASPIRING ALCOHOLIC

If you've had the pleasure of joining me on one of my "drinking" sessions, you would know that i'm the type of person who could never...EVER hold his liquor. As much as I would want to be discreet about drinking, alas, my body betrays me. When I drink, numerous chemical reactions take place inside of me that would reveal to the world that alcohol and me would never be confused as a couple. The tragic part of it is that these reactions take place even before I finish a bottle of beer or a glass of wine!

The first chemical reaction that takes place in my body is that I turn red...literally. My face never fails to put on a show and display all the shades of red everytime I take a swig of alcohol, eliciting responses of fear, bewilderment, and curiosity from onlookers. This never fails, from a light salmon hue, to a rich crimson tinge, down to a deep burgundy tone - name any red shade, and I've pretty much experienced changing into that color during one of my alcoholic binges.

The second chemical reaction that takes place is that I burn up. My body temperature suddenly shoots through the roof, as if to prove that Spontaneous Human Combustion could indeed be possible. I've had my share of drinking buddies dousing me with ice cold water over my head or placing wet tissues on my forehead, out of fear that I might suddenly burst aflame in the middle of a conversation.

The third chemical reaction that takes place, and for the record, this is true - my armpits itch terribly! I don't know what causes this phenomena, and if you could enlighten me as to why this happens, I would greatly appreciate it. It just itches bad. And people, this is not the superficial itch where you can actually see the welts and swelling. My itch seems to emanate from inside my body, working its way outwards.

The fourth chemical reaction is that an uncontrollable fit of the giggles takes place. No, this isn't the "I just smoked something" type of laughter. Its more of the "Let's play in the park", excited, high-pitched, girlie laugh. Whenever this happens, I'm often reduced to tears brought about by stomach cramps from non-stop giggling, with a matching "Please make it stop" statement to boot. I'm not too proud of this one, folks.

The fifth chemical reaction is my favorite. I've proven that alcohol does indeed loosen the tongue. However in my case, loosening of the tongue is an understatement! My tongue takes on a mind of its own! Scarlet faces, fevers, armpit itches, and girlie laughters aside, I become a full-pledged lothario when imbued with the powers of alcohol. I'm calm, collected, smooth, and suave! I would go far as to say that I like my drunken personality better than my sober one!

Just because of the first 4 reasons, I can say that I could never pick up the habit of being a raging alcoholic. Alcoholics Anonymous would probably reject my application and ask me never to attend any of the meetings. Then again, my body would probably turn on me first, by either scratching itself to death or turning into an irreversible prune color, before it would allow me to fall off the wagon.

I'm back. My first post of August. I have nothing in particular to write about. So i'm just going to empty my brain of unnecessary thoughts. I feel busy, though in reality, i'm really not. I'm anticipating events that will be bound to keep me busy in the days to come, and the mere thought of it stresses me out and makes me feel busy. Can someone explain this phenomena to me?

I'm genuinely surprised that I can last a whole week without really doing anything for work. I've done a few things like made concept statements, specified product requirements, drafted product briefs, and other stuff like that. But the truth is, I can churn out this amount of work in half a day. I don't need 2 days to finish all of these tasks.

I'm excited for something right now. Though its sort of a long-shot, I'm keeping my fingers crossed. I feel that something good is going to happen to me in the coming days, I just can't pinpoint exactly what it is.

I hate it when people talk too much about things and about themselves. I know of persons who enjoy over-explaining things just to assure themselves that they're intellectually superior than the other. On the other hand, this makes the person being explained to, feel like he's the dumbest person on Earth.

Today is officially my 6th month on the job! This was quite an achievement for me considering my track record at holding jobs. Here are the numbers: 3 months at Kimberly-Clark (This was an on-the-job training stint) 1 week at New World Renaissance Hotel (I felt a little bad about leaving this one, maybe I should have given this job a chance and seen what I would have turned out to be), and 4 1/2 months at Sony Philippines. I think I was a nomad in my past life! What were my motivations for leaving back then? I can vaguely remember, but I'm sure that it was the right decision when I made it. I guess i'm the type of person who's never satisfied with myself and what I do. I've always held on to the belief that there's something better out there for me to do. I also think that i'm still too young to be held down by a regular job that could keep me from experiencing life, and living it to the fullest. But I digress, you should congratulate me, for lasting longer in a job than I ever did! Now on to my next goal: Lasting another 6 months!

My Advocacy
Some do it for the whales, others do it for the trees, some do it for the starving children around the world. If I could have an advocacy, a cause that I would fight hard and proud for, a belief that incites my passion and stirs up my emotions, it would have to be...Work-Life Balance.

I am a firm believer of Work-Life Balance! A person without it, is simply a tired and unhappy individual. C'mon people, we don't live to work. Your existence and purpose in the world is'nt based on the amount of hours you log in the office. I pity the hard-workers who stay in the office for more than 14 hours at a time, week-ends included. Their reasons? A. I'm swamped with work B. I have poor time-management skills C. I work slow, but steady D. I'm single, alone, and don't really have anything productive to do E. I love what they do so much, its ok not to love myself F. I'm a martyr, i'm hoping the company builds me a monument someday, the reasons are endless! I used to do this back in my previous company, but I found out that the more I stayed late, the more I worked week-ends, the more I ended up unproductive and unhappy.

My motto in work is - "Start Early, So You Can Leave Early". I live by this mantra. I go to work at 8 AM, I leave at 6 PM. People may think that this is a lack of commitment at work on my part, but I beg to disagree with you. This, I call discipline. And its good to practice discipline while you're young. It's a given that you're not bound to finish all of your tasks in a day. From 8 til 6, I am fully commited to the company, but from 6 onwards, I am fully commited to myself.

Simple Joys #1 - Walking In Bad Weather

The weather has been quite gloomy these past few days. This morning, the weather was'nt just gloomy, it was depressed! People may find it weird that for some unexplainable reason, I feel pleased whenever clouds are overcast like its about to rain. I feel even better when its actually pouring outside! Today was one of those days...and I feel great! Its been awhile since I last walked outside in the pouring rain with 20 mph gusts on my face. Its hard to keep a person who finds happiness in the gloomiest of weather down. I'm posing this question to my two readers out there - what things or actions, however insignificant it might seem, give you a good or ecstatic feeling?

Stress Distress

Its that time of the year in the office I'm already beginning to hate...Marketing Planning season! I can feel the stress seeping into me. I can already foresee the longer hours at the office, the lost weekends, the endless revisions, and thoughts of cold-blooded murder! Once again, my resolve will be tested. We'll see who wins out. I hope it does'nt end like the last one.

I don't enjoy the company of stress, I despise stress. The mere thought of stress already stresses me out. Right now, I know I'm stressed. Here are the signs: I've got a marble sized pimple on my eyebrow, i'm having sleepless nights, everything I eat tastes bland, I don't feel like doing anything productive/creative, and I feel a rage inside me I can't express. And its during these times when different thoughts run through me, most of them pitiful, selfish, and self-serving.

People have varying levels of feeling stress. I've figured early on that its pretty easy to stress me out. My threshhold for is weak. I sure that i'm not as stressed out as some of my peers are, but to me, stress is stress regardless of the amount of stress one feels.

Of Coins and Cashiers

Last night as I was leaving the parking lot in the Rustan's open parking in Ayala, the cashier did something that really caught my ire. Coming from a long day at work and leaving my car in the parking lot for more than 12 hours, I expected my fee to be exorbitant as usual. True enough, it amounted to 135 pesos. But it was'nt the price that made me blow my top off, it was when I handed the cashier my hard earned 150 pesos and she demanded that I give her 5 pesos more so that she can give me 20 pesos in change. What was her reason for asking for the additional 5 pesos? She didnt have any coins with her! A cashier without any coins!! I would have normally let this one slide without further comment, but the fact that they do this to me 4 out of the 5 days that I park there eventually gets to you. Last night, I finally reached breaking point, when I told her that I did'nt have any coins on me to give to her and she had to use her radio to ask for coins from another cashier. I told her that it is basic practice for cashiers to have friggin' coins in their register, and that I thought it was rude for cashiers to ask patrons to give more that they should just because you don't have any change. In truth, I had the 5 pesos to give the cashier, and eventually I did give her the 5 pesos so that would'nt be held up any longer, but thats beside the point. My point is - IT'S YOUR OBLIGATION AS A RETAIL ESTABLISHMENT TO ALWAYS HAVE COINS IN YOUR REGISTER, AND TO ALWAYS BE READY TO GIVE YOUR CONSUMERS THE EXACT CHANGE WITHOUT HAVING TO ASK THEM FOR MORE! I believe that this is a very basic retail practice that all retailers should always keep in mind. This shows that even large retail establishments miss out on the seemingly trivial, but essential consumer right.

Rainisms - Another Dose

5. I am like a diesel engine...I take time to warm up, especially to people

6. When you meet me for the first time, you'll think that i'm either the perfect gentleman...or the biggest asshole

7. People think that i'm a boring and uptight person..that is partly true. If you're one of those people who think of me that way, we're probably just not close

8. You might think you have me all figured out, but like an onion, I've got many layers that you have to peel through one by one. And you're probably going to end up shedding tears in the process

9. I'm not a hard person to get along with, but if you're finding it hard to get along with me, its because i'm making it hard for you

Just a thought...I don't understand the phenomenon where its the untalented and undeserving individuals who attain celebrity and cult like status while the most promising people toil in the dumps. We Filipinos seem to adore mediocrity and shun excellence.

I was fortunate enough to attend Laura and Al Ries' Brand Marketing Conference over at the Philippine Plaza last week. For those who may not know who Al Ries is, he is a marketing guru and the co- author of the must read canon for all marketing practitioners - The 22 Immutable Laws of Marketing. Laura Ries is Al's daughter who also happens to be a very competent marketing expert and author, and who could be on her way to becoming like dear old dad.

The conference was insightful and introspective, though I believe that a seminar that charges nearly 10,000 bucks should conjure that effect. Although I would say that what they presented was an updated version of the 22 Immutable Laws of Marketing, minus the laws that Jack Trout(Mr. Ries' co-author in the original book, I heard that he and Al had a falling-out) probably formulated, plus Laura Ries' inputs. Their presentation was highly visual and their delivery was spot-on (they must have presented this for God knows how many times).

My major peeve during the conference was when the question and answer portion of the program started. Al and Laura must have been kicking themselves and regretting they ever came after hearing the most stupid and non-sensical questions on the planet. Try answering these questions:

1. How do I know if I am the first in my category? - Whoever asked this question deserves to be burned alive

2. Questions along the lines of asking for concrete and specific strategies for their products - Al Ries doesnt give a rat's ass about your friggin product! And haven't you heard of consultancy fees. You're not about to get a free lunch pal!

3. There was one comment/question through the text line which literally said to the Reis' - "Your laws are CONTRADICTORY!" This was like giving Al Ries a bitch slap to the face! I wanted to hide under the table for the imbecile who gave this poorly thought of and worded remark.

I was embarrassed for the the people who actually thought that their questions made the slightest sense. To think that these people were professionals and marketers at that. Honestly, I never expected the level of questions to come from such a group of professionals. Its something even I would'nt even think or dare to ask, given my inexperience in the industry.

I don't know if it was just me, but were there any others who were the slightest bit offended when Al Ries quipped that he did'nt even know where the Philippines was in the map and was surprised to find out that we were in Asia. I know I was. For a marketing guru who harped on the advantages of going global and having global brands, its just funny that he does'nt really pay much attention to his geography.

RAINISMS 1

I'm going to start a new and ongoing post in this blog. I'm calling in "Rainisms". Its basically going to be an assortment of my random thoughts, musings, and ponderings thats probably gonna give you an idea of my personality, how my mind works, and what mood I'm in for the day. On some days, I might have a lot of scatter-brained thoughts, while on some days, there may be few. In a way, its also my way of keeping this blog active and giving my 2 readers something new to read regularly. Feel free to leave a congratulatory note, or hate mail, whichever way you look at it. Before I go on rambling, here's my first installment of Rainisms:

1. If my looks could kill, then I would be a mass-murderer

2. I realized that I'm probably never going to win the title of Mr. Personality or Mr. Congeniality

3. When someone says that you have a "staring-problem", what the fuck does it mean and what equally dumb-founding retort can I shoot back?

4. I recently found out that I can no longer pretend to like people and be chummy with them like I mean it. I used to be good at this.

I just came back from a business trip in Legaspi City, Bicol. It was my first time to go there, hopefully my last. Don't get me wrong, I did'nt have any horror stories to bring back. Legaspi City is a pretty, quaint, and sedate city. But there's all there is to it. Its major attraction, the Mayon Volcano, may be breath-taking when you first see it, but it does'nt last for long. It took me just over 30 minutes before I thought i've seen everything the city had to offer. I wanted to go home badly. I'll take Hong Kong or Singapore over Legaspi City anytime of the day...

Thank God for Diarrhea!

I'm finally back after more than a week of not posting. To my 2 or 3 readers who are beginning to get disappointed as to why I havent been writing anything, well here I am again. I've been sidelined for a while. I kinda caught a bug thats been going around the house lately, thats caused me to take a dump like theres no tomorrow! Well, im going to spare you the gory details here, but if you want to ask me, I can answer you in private. Haha! After losing almost 7 pounds in 2 days (believe me, this can happen. try crapping every hour on the hour for a whole day), eating nothing but plain crackers, I can say that I enjoyed my 2 days of convalescing at home. I was able to get a much needed R&R, even at the expense of a chafed asshole. I was able to think a lot as well, of my current state, and of the state I want to be in. I was also able to catch up on my share of leisurely reading and DVD watching. I was also able to stop for a while and catch my breath. I also lost a few pounds and getting closer to my ideal weight. This must be the most rewarding sickness i've had! I'm starting to see diarrhea in a positive light!! Now if you'll excuse me, i'm going to have a drink of dirty water.

At times I want to let loose and go wild...but my conscience dictates that I must behave
At times I want to put people in their place...but my conscience tells me not to be evil
At times I want to quit my job...but my conscience tells me that I can't be a rolling stone
At times I want to shout at the top of my lungs...but my conscience orders me to keep quiet
At times I feel that something better is out there for me...but my conscience says, "first, you must cut your teeth"
At times I need to get close to somebody...but my conscience whispers "don't get too close for comfort"
At times I want to go away on my own...but my conscience informs me that I'm not independent
At times I feel the need for intimacy...but my conscience replies "you're not even close with anybody"
At times I feel alone...and my conscience snaps back, "well, who isn't?"
At times I want to disappear...but my conscience questions, "but where will you go?"
At times I'm really happy...but my conscience mocks me, "It will never last"
At times I feel like I can do anything...and my conscience urges me on
At times I feel very brave...but my conscience snaps be back to reality
At times I know I am loved...but my conscience tells me to name those who love me, and I can't think of that many
At times I want to speak my mind...but my conscience matter of factly answers, "you dont have anything important to say"
At times I feel time is moving so fast and I can't breathe...but my conscience tells me, "that's what happens when you live in the city"
At times I ask myself why I didnt do the things I wish I had done...and my conscience tells me, "you don't have the balls to follow through with your plans"
At times I feel bored with my life...and my conscience replies, "thats because you don't do anythin exciting"
At times I feel impatient...and my conscience answers, "thats because you are young"
At times I feel old...and my conscience tells me that I'm thinking too much

Last night, I got into a fight with my Dad. But before I elaborate any further, let me give you the backstory first. For the past week, one of our cars has been in repair, so naturally, we could'nt use it. Since all of us in the family drove to work, a car in repair meant one of us would not be able to drive and would thus have to ride to work with the others. That meant that I would have to ride to work with my Dad. This wasnt really a problem for me since I regularly rode to school with my Dad back when I was in college. He would drop me off in the MRT station and I would be on my way. Going home, I would take the MRT back and he would pick me up in the mall or some pre-agreed location. Ever since I started working, our set-up changed and I was hitching a ride with him less frequently. So yesterday was really no different from the past days.

I got off from work last night a bit later than usual. I informed my dad of this ahead of time by texting him. Texting was another part of our usual set-up. Text if you get to the office, text if you're about to leave the office, text if you're gonna be late. So I did this minor task and went about my work at the office. I left the office at around 6:40. Now if you knew my family, then you would you that we have a pretty much time-bound structure. Leave work by 6, get home by 7, have dinner by 7:30, and so on. Naturally, since it was almost 7, and I was still in the office, then our schedules would have to get moved back. But since I informed my Dad ahead of time, I thought that there wasnt really gonna be a problem. But if you knew me, you would know that one of my major pet peeves is being late. As much as possible, I didnt want to go home late or be late for that matter. So I tried my best to hurry home from work. Instead of walking to the train station, which I normally did when I leave on time, I tried to take a cab. But since the traffic during rush hour was terrible, I ended up walking anyway. So I walked to the train station, took the MRT, and was pleasantly surprised to find out that I wasnt that late. Initially I was 40 minutes late in leaving but I managed to cut it down to 25 minutes when I got to my destination.

Now another back story. Last monday, when I was again fetched by my dad, he picked me up at a place we never pre-agreed on in the morning. As I told you earlier, we usually have agreed pick-up points. So here I was, coming from the MRT, taking my leisurely walk to our agreed upon pick-up point in the mall, when suddenly my dad gives me a ring to tell me to go to another location, and to hurry up because he was waiting in a no-waiting zone! This naturally caught me off-guard, so I hurried to the new pick-up point. This location did turn out to be a no-waiting zone, and whats worse, the stoplight just turned green. So the car was keeping the traffic from moving. So I jogged to the car and opened the door, and once I stepped in, my dad said, "You better hurry up, we might get caught by the police because its a no-waiting zone." Why did he frickin have to wait in the no-waiting zone in the first place! Let me mention that another pet peeve of mine is being inconvenienced by getting on or getting off places you're not supposed to. For example, having to get off the car when you're in the middle of the road during a stoplight, or getting on a car while its moving because the area is a no-loading zone. I really, really abhor doing this because in these instances, i'm not in control of the situation and there are other external factors that add to the tension like the cars behind you are honking like crazy, or that traffic enforcer is giving you the look that you did something wrong and is itching to pull you over. But since I was in good spirits last Monday, I let this one slide.

Back to yesterday. My dad did it again. He texted me that he was in another location and that I should hurry up since it was again, a no-waiting zone. Already feeling irritated, because I was late, and I was tired from work, and I had to walk like crazy to get home, I called him up to tell him that I was already near our agreed location. My damn phone didnt cooperate with us last night as well, as I couldnt receive any calls and automatically rejected whoever calls me. As it turned out, both of us were already irritated because he tried to call me twice to no avail. So I was walking to the new pick-up point when suddenly this car honks at me from nowhere, and its our car, right in front of the stoplight that just turned green. This wasnt even the location and my dad is there, honking at me to get in the car, with the other cars behind us impatiently honking their horns. So the pressure and tension of the situation just reached an all-time high at that point, and everything went haywire. Horns honking all around, green light glaring, I ran to the car, opened the front door, turns out my brother was there, closed the front door, opened the back door, closed the door on my Ipod earphones and left it dangling right outside the car. I just completely lost it afterwards!! I started cursing under my breath and tugging on my earphones to no avail. This was when all hell broke loose. I engaged into an intense shouting match with my Dad that lasted about 2 minutes. I think that this was the first heated argument that i've had with him in a long while, and probably one of the worst.

My emotions got the best of me, and I regretted doing it afterwards. But if you knew me well, I have a lot of pride in myself, and you wouldnt get me to apologize that easy, especially when I know I'm right. In this case, I think my reasons for blowing my top off was right. In case you beg to disagree. I think I share the same trait with my Dad in this aspect. But the good thing is, I did feel guilty afterwards, and I felt my anger dissipate. I've been trying to practice anger management lately by trying to stop my anger immediately. It worked to certain extent last night as I didnt feel any more anger once I got home. But the sad thing is, I still havent spoken to my dad since last night. Theres no anger, I think its just pride taking over at this point. Plus think he was also shocked at my outburst last night. I always believe that a child has no right to get mad at his parents. And God knows how much I love my parents and put them in high esteem. But sometimes, these arguments can be healthy, I think.

This post has rambled on forever. I just had to get this out of my system. I want to have a good day today.