"Internet Channels was here 2004-2009"

Every time someone got rolled off from Barclays, or resigned from Accenture entirely, it used to merit a stoppage of work and at least thirty minutes of drama, saying farewells and looking back on the good times. For my first couple of years there that used to be the case.

When people started to leave en masse however, that drama went away. Everyone just bit the bullet and accepted the hard truth: that the recession was taking its toll on our client and there just wasn't any work coming our way. I used to think getting rolled off at Barclays meant that someone had screwed up, or someone didn't perform up to par. This time that just wasn't the case. We didn't fail the client. The client failed us.

For the longest time I had imagined how my own final day at Barclays would turn out like. I imagined that instead of going through the dramatic rituals, I'd just disappear in the background with only the leads knowing that I had indeed rolled off from the project. Hahaha. How prophetic. I never thought that's how I ended up leaving Barclays. One difference though: Everyone knew.

Looking back, I don't think I'd have done my final day any differently. It was in effect also the final day of the Internet Channels test team as we knew it. So few of us would remain behind. I decided to make a "shrine" out of the old nameplates that we still had lying around and slap them onto an unused whiteboard. Those with missing nameplates we just filled in with a felt-tip pen.

Jona told us there was a glimmer of hope for our team, though. We might just go back to Barclays by October if everything goes to plan. We'll see. I'm not really keeping my hopes up. I figure three years in Barclays is enough. I needed a change anyway.

It was fun while it lasted. Thanks, my friends.

"Don't fall in love with your car"

I spent the week without Aibo as I sent him into my friend Butch Ortiz's shop, CrossFive Auto, for rust removal around the rear hatch area. This rust sadly seems to be the legacy of that major rear-end crash Aibo had with a bus one year ago.

When Aibo came out of that crash sporting a new rear bumper and rear deck spoiler, people were amazed that he looked much better than ever. Unfortunately things weren't so rosy on the inside. One day while hosing down Aibo's dirt, I had noticed the water from the hose seeping into the same rear bumper everybody adored. Sure enough, when I dismantled the rear interior trim panels, I spotted a few rust spots on the welds. When Butch's crew took a closer look, they found even more rust around the lower lip of the rear hatch.

Fast-forward to today.

My dad had spotted me wrenching away at Aibo's misaligned tie-down cargo hooks this morning and asked me about the particulars of the repair job I'd just had done. He figured out the rust was due to last year's Friday the 13th crash. Afterward, he told me that once a car figures in an accident, I should be prepared to sell it. He repeated his advice: Don't fall in love with your car. Treat it as you would a pair of jeans. If even crash-free cars sprout rust, Papa said, what fate awaits those that have had a bus-sized suppository rammed up their rears?

Unfortunately I'll have to be stubborn on this one.

In the back of my mind, I had already decided that Aibo would figure in my life as my car for at least seven more years. I don't want to replace his GD1 Jazz frame with a brand-new GE6 Jazz; I was never as smitten by the GE's Joan Rivers-style stretched facelift looks as I was with the lovably cute GD, and it's just not enough of an improvement anyway. He is also my ongoing lesson in becoming an adept DIY mechanic, having had so many parts installed to it with dust and grime on my hands and sweat all over my brows and shirts. And have I not already mentioned that Aibo was my very first trackday experience?

Couple that with a shaky, uncertain post-recession future and my preference to prioritize housing over a new car, and the decision to keep Aibo, rust, body filler, warts and all, is a no-brainer.

Sorry Papa. I already own my dream car, and I want to run it till I have a family of my own.

Waging war with the nouveau riche

For a few months now I've been frustrated with the way the PJACU forums have turned into.

The place has turned into some sort of ridiculous place of worship, where the main virtue is how quickly and how lavishly this husband-and-wife team can blow their money on their cars and their other toys. Every month they have either big-ticket mods or shiny new cameras - which is a little too frequent, to be honest - and with every new acquisition, they go on a massive show-and-tell rampage to wow everybody else. Just when I wondered where these people get their money to finance their various "hobbies," I was aghast at learning of their willingness to go into debt just so they could show off. They have a kid, for crying out loud! Even worse, every post they make just seems to allude to their next purchase.

Recently things came to a head when the husband bragged about his plans of getting a brand-new Nissan 370Z come June...some sort of birthday present. The same guy bragged about the cars he and his family members had owned over the hears.

I had had enough. I got flustered and frustrated about how things had gone so far away from the club that I originally joined. PJACU was about showing off the cars and their modifications, sure, but it's also about trying to help fellow Jazz and City owners with much more important things such as maintenance, repairs and do-it-yourself tips. Seeing PJACU turn into this brag-to-the-heavens pissing contest is a major disappointment and it frankly just put me off.

I tried contacting my friends and some of the moderators about it and while some of them were willing to hear me out, ultimately these efforts were as useful as busting a padlock with newspaper. While I remained active, I was no longer enjoying my time there.

Perhaps it's about time I moved on. As much as I want to chew these two idiots out for their deplorable habits with money, and consequently the stinking bad example they're setting for fellow PJACU members, how they spend their money and get themselves deeper into debt is admittedly none of my business.

My goodness, their loss of taste and sensibility is irritating though. Ugh. I vow never to turn into them.

Final days with Barclays

I haven't been blogging as frequently as I should. A lot of developments have happened over the past couple weeks.

The biggest and most important one is this: After three years, I am now parting with the friends I've made at the Accenture Barclays Unit. Due to the recession, there just hasn't been much work for the Internet Channels team and so the decision was made to split the team in half. The bigger half will no longer be working with Barclays but for other clients.

Well, I guess it was just a matter of time. I suppose this was also for the best too. It is not good for me and my fellow leavers to stagnate in the specialized knowledge we have. Moving to other clients will ultimately work out better for us and broaden our horizons. We don't know where we're going to yet but two possibilities have surfaced: either we stay in the Cybergate area or move to Union Bank Plaza (UBP) in Ortigas.

My seatmate Joebelle and I were wondering how this development would affect us. If we move to UBP, our problems would include parking space and looking for a gym. There's no gym inside UBP. We might have to bite the bullet and plunk down cash to work out at Gold's Gym in Robinsons Galleria or Fitness First in SM Megamall, both of which are quite a distance from UBP.

Trivalities aside...this is my final week with Barclays. My last day with them is on June 3. I'm still waiting for that email containing the details of my next gig, along with the other leavers. Just a minor shame that my good friends PJ, Paolo Cruz and Joel were part of the lucky (?) ones that will be staying with Barclays.

We'll see.

Of grunt work, singing and a kid on a mega-tantrum

Mother's Day 2009 was a pretty busy one.

Firstly, we sang at four different masses today, singing the a capella "We are an Offering" and an accompanied "Inay" for all the mothers in the parish. When you're up and singing from 7am to 6:30pm, that's a pretty big ask.

Second, I finally got to install the Recaro SRD seats I bought three months ago. This project couldn't be completed because the Bride RO-type seat rails I ordered took their sweet time getting here, only arriving two days ago. Removing the stock seats was an easy task, but fitting the SRDs to the car and mating them to the Bride seat rails, and transferring the seat belt buckles to them was a much larger and more demanding task than I thought. Quite a bit of grunt work was involved as well, moving the parts around with muscle power. Unfortunately exhaustion and general clumsiness set in and led to a few scratches on Aibo's interior and my bedroom floor.

Last but not least was the ultimate irony to this Mother's Day. While I was removing the stock driver's seat from inside Aibo, Bianx, Mama and I all heard frenzied shrieking that sounded as if someone had finally snapped. It might as well have been because across the street from our house, at the church parking lot, was a little kid no older than 10 years old, the source of the huge racket that lasted almost 20 minutes. He was throwing a massive tantrum toward his mom, who was seated inside the family car. He shrieked, called his mom names, and was punching and kicking the little Toyota - even a car owned by another family wasn't spared the beating.

Equally shocking was that no one, most of all his parents, seemed to be stopping this out-of-control brat!

Warm pools, warmer welcome

Mav invited me to tag along with her friends on the little weekend summer outing they planned in Los Banos. We went to a place called Splash Mountain, which sported four slides, a "lazy river," and the warmest swimming pools I've ever dipped into.

Excepting the ridiculous Calamba traffic, the suicidal lunatics on SLEX everyone else calls drivers, and a lost shirt, it was a wonderful weekend that unfortunately ended a little too quickly. I taught Mav how to float and swim, and she cooked a huge batch of adobo for all of us. It was nice that I could finally relax with Mav's friends and just enjoy myself. A big hearty thank-you to Jem, Mai, Joyce, Jogs and Ara for making me feel very welcome.

I love you baby Mabie!

Subic + Aibo = success

At last, our Internet access has returned after three weeks. It's funny how we've all become dependent on the Internet here at home, even my mom.

In the intervening days, a lot has happened. The highlight concerned me finally breaking the duck with trackdays. I finally got to participate in a proper trackday in Subic, after six years of being part of car clubs! Mav and her brother Paolo tagged along for the ride.

Aibo did pretty well on his first forays into the Subic International Raceway's short track. The tricks I've been doing on the streets and in video games, like heel-and-toe downshifts, proper steering and seat positions and balancing the car on the throttle, worked much better in real life than I ever expected. I daresay it was much easier to heel-and-toe on the track than on public roads, where I rarely enter corners at high RPM. That tricky turn 5 hairpin showed me what understeer was all about, though.

In the scorching, humid heat of Subic, we had several practice runs, the first few ones queued behind more experienced drivers Mikko David and Patrick Chua, then free running until the timed lap sessions later in the afternoon. I asked Pat to ride shotgun with me for pointers, when he pulled out his Nokia N93 and took a video of me hooning around the track for two laps.



We got two timed laps per heat, where I ran consistently in the 1:04 range - not too shabby for a novice in a stock car.

Here are more photos of the event, many thanks to Mikko and his skills with his DSLR.

Leaving March with a few kind words

I'm usually crappy at reading up on other people's blogs...and for that I apologize.

Proof of that is this belated New Year's post I read on Dynee's blog, which is one of the most unexpected yet touching things I've come across. I'm not used to people paying me any compliments, so this is a surprise I liked.

It's been so many years since she left that comment on this same blog, and never did I think that we'd end up working for the same firm or have a lot of things in common. It's a nice feeling, knowing that I've actually inspired someone else.

Death of a dream?

People who've known me from my high school days know that I've had real experience doing the dirty work of writing, designing layout and preparing to print a magazine. Indeed, all this experience really influenced me in choosing my courses in college. I tried to continue my enthusiasm for the magazine into college, but got tripped up by my inability to follow beats in preparation for writing a decent news article.

College aside, my time with Counterpoint was definitely one of my most productive spells I've ever had in my lifetime. As layout editor, I was in love with the entire process of making a magazine from a bunch of articles and photos, trying to synthesize all of them into one cohesive, attractive-looking whole. Working with Adobe PageMaker and InDesign since the sixth grade taught me the importance of a proper "preflight" check of a project before sending it off to the print shop, and the creative power one can wield with only two inks -- usually black and PANTONE 121 CVU for me (a bright yellow to everyone else).

Fast forward to today, and I am saddened by the realization that the Internet has saturated our lives so much that entire magazines and newspapers such as the Seattle Post-Intelligencer and San Francisco Chronicle are closing up shop, opting to become entirely "Internet-only" publications.

I never really got the hang of HTML. Sure, I hard-coded an entire website once in the past with nothing but Notepad, but I found the whole process exceedingly clunky and nowhere near as intuitive as using PageMaker/InDesign. I am aware that the Internet opens so many other ways of turning a web page into eye candy, but most of the animated banners I see on websites do them no favors as coherent wholes. Novelty for the sake of novelty, I'd say. From a design standpoint, I've always believed in keeping things simple -- my tools involving nothing more than typefaces and drawn objects.

Back in high school I thought I could make a living as a layout editor for a magazine. That probably isn't the case in the US any longer, with magazines slowly slipping into obsolescence, taking one of my greatest ambitions along with them.

Hugs and kisses

Sometimes, all I really need to break me out of my rut of depression and self-pity is the knowledge that someone still loves me, despite my personality flaws and quick temper.

Sometimes, all I really need to soothe my tired soul is a warm, enveloping hug from someone who knows their true worth.

Sometimes, all I really need to calm my frayed nerves are kisses so balmy from lips so soft that they relax me to the core.

Thank you Mav, for six months of joy and gladness. I love you!

Millionaire by thirty?

On a whim I bought myself a copy of Doug Andrew's book "Millionaire By Thirty: The Quickest Path to Financial Independence." Despite my hobby-slash-vice of car modification, I am interested in trying to make my money grow.

I'm almost halfway through the book, and he does offer quite unconventional advice. Never have I heard of actually embracing a select amount and type of debt to make money. Unfortunately most of the tips the Andrews offer -- Doug shares writing credits with his two sons -- seems more applicable to the US than the Philippines. I have no idea, for example, if his suggestion of getting a mortgage is as tax-deductible here as it is in America.

Because of that, my feelings toward the book are mixed. Great tips, yes -- but I have no idea if they'll work here.

The perennially late reaction engine

No, that's not something from Macross. I'm talking about myself.

Lately I seem to have become a reactionary hair-trigger. It's not as if it's anything new. I guess I've struggled with this my whole life. This past week I've failed putting a throttle on my reactions, the end result being a huge mess that's gotten me in trouble with my leads.

They've expressed their disappointment with me. It's a shame I have such a tendency to snap at people because my skills are more than adequate, they told me. Why don't you realize your reactions have an effect on the people around you?

I can't go on like this. The world is becoming less and less forgiving of my actions. I feel like I'm always playing catch-up and learning the old lessons in a ball game everybody else has played and finished at least once. Not everyone understands that I'm basically a late bloomer. How long am I going to be a late bloomer? How long will I go through the motions of learning things I should have known years ago because everybody else does?

This just bums me out. The pathetic thing about this is I can't turn to anyone for help.

MoMo!

Just thought I'd share a few photos of a nice place Mav and I found in Robinsons Place Ermita. MoMo! is a little new cafe which college students frequent (or infest) due to free WiFi. However I feel they could make much more if they downplay the WiFi a little, because they do make really good food.

Okay, so their Ultimate Mac & Cheese isn't so ultimate, but the 10" Smoked Salmon with Dill Cream Cheese pizza is a decadent, yummy treat and can literally make your visit there.

We're going back there for dessert.


More photos over here.

Allergies and red seats

Now I know the name of the condition that's afflicted me with sinusitis, altered vision, unworkable headaches and vertigo whenever I get a bad cold: allergic rhinitis. As it turns out, this doesn't have a cure and all I can do is manage it and try to avoid the allergic triggers. This month's bout of it has chopped away four days off my working month.
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As my birthday gift to myself, I finally took the splurge on semi-bucket seats. I'm afraid the "Digo fund" never went toward the purchase of a Bride Digo seat, however. Instead, I got a pair of red Recaro SR3s from the original DC2 Honda Integra Type R and/or the EK9 Honda Civic Type R. For the price and the condition of the seats, I got them quite cheap.


Right now they're sitting on the floor of my room though, as I soldier on with Aibo's stock perches. Why? The SR3s didn't come with seat rails compatible with my GD1 Jazz. To make them link up with Aibo's bones, I ordered a set of Bride RO-type seat rails, which will interface flawlessly with the seats and Aibo's chassis. The only fly in the ointment is, they'll take a month at most before they make it here because the Japanese supplier doesn't have any of them in stock.

I can already hear my knees thanking me, though.

Jared is itching to help me with the DIY install of these babies. I can't wait either.

Two car clubs mourn the death of one great man.

It started out just like any other day. I went to work, fired up the computer and went to the JaCU forum for any updates.

The update that greeted me left me astounded and in disbelief. Francis Javier, the beloved "Frankster" of Honda Club Philippines and Philippine Jazz and City United, had passed away due to cardiac arrest on February 19, 2009. He was thirty years old.

He was one of the kindest and most responsible souls I'd ever met. Francis tirelessly attended the EBs and GTs (get-togethers) even if he himself wasn't feeling so good. He was also a genuine car nut just like me, his affection extending to even the most obscure automotive curiosities. His GD6 Honda City is testament to his passion for turning even arguably the "ugly duckling" of the recent Honda car lineup into something even the American members of FitFreak.net lust for.

A few days before he passed away, he was ecstatic at having driven a friend's yellow Honda NSX at the recent JaCU February EB. He seemed hale and hearty the whole day. Little did we all know that his collapse and admittance into the hospital just the previous month was the forebear of his impending passing. He was born with a congenital heart defect that left his heart enlarged, he told me, and with it came all sorts of cardiac maladies, palpitation to name just one.

Steve of JaCU remarked on the Honda Club Philippines forum that Francis was supposed to be next in line as JaCU's president. I have no doubt he would have been as fine a president as Juno Ongteco was/is for HCP.

Francis' act will be a tough one to follow. He will be missed and I am sure he is now in a better place, certainly one where he no longer has to worry about the condition of his fragile heart.

Twenty-six revolutions around the sun, and counting

Waking up to The Twilight Zone featuring the comedian stuck in hell.
Stool samples in a glass jar of dulong.

A lucky break thanks to the parking security guard at Cybergate 1.
Annual physical examination.
Peeing into a cup and a bottle without any privacy.
The crawling southbound traffic of C5 at 10:45 am.
Emission testing at Makati.
Counting just how many colleagues bothered to greet me.
Counting the cold shoulders.
Wondering if I should toot my own horn.
Doing zilch at work.
Fatigue setting in.
Leaving work early.
Dinner with Mav at the Stock Market in Bonifacio High Street.
Cornbread pudding with whisky caramel sauce.
Hilarious online birthday greeting cards from Auntie Carole and Uncle Butch.

Overall, not a bad way to turn another leaf in that calendar of my life. But damn, that cornbread pudding just has to take the cake.

Right Mav?Happy birthday to me.

My baby Maby is well again!

After spending a few days in the renovated Makati Medical Center, Mav is back on her feet and cured of her gastritis. Yay!

There are a few caveats though, the most notable being the short list of foods that she is permitted to eat for the next couple of weeks. Apparently everything else will just screw with her gastrointestinal tract and give her hyperacidity as well.

It's a small price to pay, I guess. At least she's graduated from that liquid diet the doctors first gave her...I know first-hand how fed up she was with plain old rice porridge.

Her illness did make for an interesting "date." I spent my Saturday in her hospital room, tending to her while I relieved her parents as they took the time to go home.

Thanks for your prayers guys! Mav sends her thanks.

An idiot of sadness no more.

My love and I, we work well together
But often we're apart
Absence makes the heart lose weight, yeah
Till love breaks down, love breaks down

Ooh my oh my, have you seen the weather?
The sweet September rain
Rain on me, like no other
Until I drown, until I drown

When love breaks down, the things you do
To stop the truth from hurting you
When love breaks down, the lies we tell
They only serve to fool ourselves
When love breaks down, when love breaks down

My love and I, we are boxing clever
He'll never crowd me out
Both be free as old confetti
And paint the town, paint the town

When love breaks down, the things you do
To stop the truth from hurting you
When love breaks down, the lies we tell
They only serve to fool ourselves
When love breaks down, we join the wrecks
Who leave their hearts for easy sex
When love breaks down, when love breaks down

My love and I, we were high and climbing
Into the sky of blue
Loud with colors, of a rainbow
A changing view, a changing view

When love breaks down, the things you do
To stop the truth from hurting you
When love breaks down, the lies we tell
They only serve to fool ourselves
When love breaks down, we join the wrecks
Who leave their hearts for easy sex
When love breaks down, when love breaks down

- Lisa Stansfield, "When Love Breaks Down"
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Not too long ago, I did some pretty stupid things because I couldn't accept failing with you despite all the effort.

I am not walking down that road again. I am at least a little wiser now. More importantly, my heart now has what I need to see me through this.

All I have to do is toughen my mind.

Bum gut gone too far...

My girlfriend Mav is quite seriously sick.

She's had a case of bum gut that has lasted much, much longer than it should. The doctors have diagnosed it as gastritis, and they've treated her for it, but for some reason her tummy's still busy doing painful cartwheels and making her puke. She's now been confined in Makati Medical Center for observation, at a most inopportune time---the hospital is in the middle of renovation and it's taking an eternity for her to get her own room.

Please pray for her, guys. I want nothing more than to have her healthy again.

Soft spending vs. hard spending?

Two weeks went by so fast.

In that span of time, my beloved Auntie Carole and Uncle Butch visited from LA, stayed with us, walked around the malls, shopped for clothes, ate out, ate in, played golf, danced, drank coffee, drank booze...and generally just had a really great time. Just the other day they flew back.

I miss them already. I miss driving them around. I miss Uncle Butch's jokes and Auntie Carole's jolly demeanor. Even though I don't watch local TV, I miss how they'd all go ga-ga over Wowowee.
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As it turns out I might see them again within the year. If all goes well, I might be able to join them in Waikiki Beach in Hawaii for Uncle Butch's nephew Marco's wedding some time in August. I've already done my sums for the round-trip ticket prices, and as far as I know my US visa's still good for a few more years.

Uncle Butch told me he loves the place even though he's been there four times already. He would gladly forego buying a brand-new TV if it meant going to Waikiki again. He told me the material things will get old and worn-out, but trips and experiences like these with my loved ones are what I'd remember when I'm old and gray.

I'm already set on saving up for Aibo's mods...but the man has a point. We'll see.

In the meantime, I'm planning to take Mav to Clark for the Philippine Hot Air Balloon Festival, and to the Avilon Zoo in Rizal. Those should make for a couple of interesting dates.