Take me back!

On my final month with my current client I am beginning to miss working for Barclays.

Work has been in shambles lately, with overzealous, arrogant developers biting off more than they can chew, a process that's frankly worthless, test data so fragile it breaks down with one ill-advised action, and test scripts that are too damn long for their own good.

I'm not saying Barclays was without problems, but we were vastly better equipped to handle and avoid the shenanigans we're experiencing now.

According to friends I know, there's a chance Barclays might take us in again. Personally I'd jump at the chance if it meant returning to Internet Channels.

Good things are worth repeating

Mav was feeling a little down last week, so I asked her out in an effort to get her mind off things. We ditched the usual movie. We ate at Jipan, one of my favorite Japanese restaurants; made absolute fools of ourselves at Timezone; window-shopped for shoes, books and sportswear before committing to a purchase of Havaianas flip-flops; and ate Jamaican patties and Quickly ice shakes.

That Saturday felt much, much better. On previous occasions, it felt as if we were trying to rush through the time we had together. Now, though, I felt at ease and more relaxed, and the day went by better overall.

I realized how much I missed her company. Now that we were used to each other's quirks, the old hang-ups we used to have just faded away, replaced by good, clean fun.

We'll do this again, Mav.

Wrapping up May

Since I recovered from my brush with prolonged vertigo and a massive head cold, I've been staying away from the home PC for fear of getting an undesirable relapse. With the overtime wick turned up at work, I strain my eyes and brain enough already.

For the longest time, using a computer was the one thing I could not do without bad consequences. It's funny how I could vegetate in bed watching TV and reading magazines without incident, or even drive around for two hours, but a week ago I could barely stand two hours of using an LCD-monitor-equipped PC.

Grace and I have patched things up. In the end, despite everything that's happened between us emotionally, I guess we're just really good friends after all. She was concerned about me when I was still struggling through my first couple of days back at work. She's asked me to watch "Sex and the City" along with her...perhaps one of these weekends.

My friend Mav was a big help too. All the while she was keeping me company over SMS, and I appreciated her company despite our differences.

Fuel prices have gotten fairly ridiculous in how quickly they've risen over the past year. I remember this time last year it was PhP38 per liter...now it's PhP52 and rising per week. I was lucky to have avoided a week at the pump, but ultimately my Honda has to fill up and I have to pay up to do so. I wonder when all the price increases will end?

At least tomorrow is another Friday though. A payday Friday. One I'm actually looking forward to, because I'm getting my just-desserts.

I, the jerk

Over the weekend I got sidetracked by a massive head cold and the kind of heavy headache that would normally point to me getting the flu. Fortunately I didn't get chills or fever, but I didn't want to take any chances either so I took today off.

I am disappointed with myself once again. It seems no matter how hard I try to make other people happy, I will just end up acting like an insensitive, manipulative jerk when all is said and done. Grace was looking for something I unfortunately could not give her, and in the end I became exactly the type of person she didn't want.

I begin to wonder when I can convince myself that I am truly ready for a relationship once again. It is funny how I've become the one actively resisting it, after falling over myself time and time again searching for it for the past God-knows-how-many years. Now that relationships aren't part of my itinerary, there the chances for it pop up. What kind of sick, cruel joke is this?

If Grace proved something, she proved I am not unlovable and I am grateful for that. But right now, I'm just not looking.

Of loneliness, insignificance and Macross

By all accounts, I should be sad. I just conceded whatever chance I had with Denise. I should be mourning.

But you know what? I'm not sad at all. Maybe I've grown a bit in all those years. I refuse to get bogged down by heartache and disappointment any longer. I can close this chapter of my life without regrets because I know I tried my best. Perhaps it took me too long to call it quits, but that's no longer important.

Next to what happened to PJ, my troubles are nothing.
===

I got a welcome surprise on YM the other day. My old friend Grace buzzed me...and after some distance between us over the past few months, I truly missed her.

We've had our misgivings and problems, but underneath it all I guess she and I are kindred spirits. We both know how demoralizing loneliness and sadness can be, how it can push us to do really stupid things in an effort to get it out of our system. Although we're doing better now, we still have bouts of that evil emotion from time to time.

Perhaps this time, we can be each other's crutches.
===

I want to watch Macross again.

I want to believe that a love so pure and untainted truly does exist, even if I already have too much knowledge to the contrary.

I want to meet my own Misa Hayase.

I want to believe that love can prevail even in the midst of sheer disappointment and after lots of effort, the same kind of effort Misa put in for her beloved Hikaru.

Macross is a boyhood dream, I guess. What's so wrong in believing in it once again?

Birth of an audiophile, part deux: Return to HCP!

Over the final days of December 2007, I decided to revisit the Honda Club of the Philippines forums after an absence of more than 18 months---purely on a whim. I had planned to just drop in and say hi to the few friends I made there in my years of being an active member.

Little did I know that I would end up staying again. I was surprised how warmly I was welcomed back into the fold, even by some people whom I didn't know very well. With the sheer number of newbies since I left, though, I felt like a newbie myself---having to start off from a clean-slate reputation.

Fast forward almost a month later and I end up going to the HCP Audio Get-Together (GT) for January at Automoville along Ortigas Ave.

Now a confession: In my previous three years in HCP I paid almost no attention to audio. I had my sights squarely on engine performance (but spent not one penny on it). Nowadays, however, I realize there's not much point in spending to raise your car's power output because of how clogged our streets are and how expensive fuel is. It would make much more sense to enjoy your stay in the gridlocked streets, so off I turned my attention to sonics.

I know next to nothing about car audio, though. This is why I found myself in Ortigas last night. I wanted to hear different brands of speakers and amps, and perhaps learn a thing or two about what I should look for in a high-quality setup.

I auditioned five cars, with varying amounts of expense and component brands. Two cars had Focal setups from different price levels, while Hertz, DLS and Polk Audio had one representative each. All of them blew me away, to be honest, but to my ears the Hertz units offered maximum bang for my meager buck, so that's what I'll likely save up for. Thanks to fellow KotseAudioClub members Pooch and Elco, I also learned a lot about sound staging, imaging and installation. Perhaps it was the optimized aiming of the component speakers, but I could now hear cymbals crashing on the left, vocals in the center and the keyboards over to the right---nuances I could never notice in the Jazz's stock speakers.

With all the fine automobiles and sound setups on hand there, it was a huge shame I didn't get to listen to more of them as I left close to midnight. That said, I can't wait for next month's audio GT.

And truth be told, it does feel good to be back.

Tired...

On a whim I left Pam a message on Friendster. Then I visited her blog. She hasn't updated it in a while due to the whims of Multiply, but what I see is enough to tell me she's got a whole lot going on in her life---most of which is stuff she enjoys.

And I'm glad for her.

It is a balmy Saturday afternoon. I just got my 13th-month pay. Technically speaking, I'm more loaded than ever before.

So why am I wasting the day cooped up at home in front of my computer and writing on my blog?

I'm tired of battling the traffic and the weekend drivers and the indecisive morons that populate Manila's streets. I'm tired of spending my hard-earned money on the silliest, most frivolous, even downright hazardous things and experiences. I'm tired of the temptation to think with body organs other than my head.

I am bored, I want to get out and enjoy, I want to finish my almost-done Christmas shopping, I want to drive to the ends of the earth, but I am tired.

Maybe next week...

Frailty

Lately I've come down with a severe case of the mopes.

I feel I don't really belong anywhere. While that's nothing new, I'm alarmed that I'm still feeling this way at this point in my life, where I'm no longer an adolescent nor a student. No, this had to linger until I became your present-day salaryman, and I feel stupid melting with self-loathing in my cubicle while I see and hear people enjoying everyone else's company.

I guess I'm too much of a perfectionist. I have such high expectations that I easily get disappointed when things don't go as planned. It's funny how I don't like being with my family because I don't want to hear any nitpicking, but here I am dragging it along with me. Given that, it's probably no surprise why very few people actually like being with me.

Times like these, I feel how hard it is to be an adult. Bill Gates was correct, no one cares about your self-esteem...especially not your colleagues. I remember one of my old high school teachers telling me I was in such a hurry to grow up. Now I feel as if things are passing too quickly for me to catch up, as if everyone's in top gear on the unrestricted autobahn while I'm hesitantly driving with a learner permit. And I'm scared.

I want to talk to the few people I can truly call my friends, but it feels like I'm wasting their time. They've got better things to do than listen to me whine...or so I thought.
***

Cher and I had a chat after what seems like months. It's amazing how someone you've never met can make you feel so good about yourself, just because of the sheer belief and faith that you are a good person. She managed to do just that, and I am very grateful.

Everyone's scared, she told me, you're not the only one. There are simply too many uncertainties. I told her everything that was on my mind, all the loneliness, bitterness and the things I kept from everyone else for fear of further rejection, and it felt good to finally have someone to talk to.

One day within this year, I will visit her. Now that I'm working that shouldn't be such a problem. Thanks, fwend, for four wonderful years.

I'll stay stock, thanks.

I'll stay stock, thanks.

After almost a year of being separated from anyone from the Honda Club of the Philippines, an old friend texted me about a little get-together of the SX8 Piranhas, my erstwhile troupe, down at BF Paranaque. Since I was looking for a distraction I said I'd come along.

Most of them came late, and I slowly realized that the HCP of yore that I once enjoyed was now gone. In the SX8 group alone I could count the truly memorable acquaintances and friends on the palm of my hand. Such is proof that people just come and go, I guess. It was nice seeing Bing, Martin and the new guys, though.

I also realize my interest in car modification has waned significantly, and that's really a big part of what HCP is all about. The cost just isn't worth it. While the turbocharged project Jazz 1.3 from an old issue of Top Gear Philippines caught my attention, the truth is that car had a lot of work done to handle the added power. It got new 16" rubber and tires, a trick Koni suspension and better brake pads to complement the turbo's output boost and all its ancillaries, in the hope of making it a more rounded car. Let's face it, though: factor all of those in and it's not exactly what you'd call cheap, especially if you want quality work. I appreciate the lengths people go to for performance, but I can't see myself being part of that.

Perhaps I'll stop at decent 15" rims and rubber.

"Years have gone by since you've been gone..."

"Years have gone by since you've been gone..."

Through the magic that is Friendster, I finally managed to reconnect with my friend Mitzi after such a long, long time. Back in high school she was the closest I had to a girlfriend, and through the years I constantly wondered how graduating from high school and college would change us.

It turns out I won't have the answer to that question yet. She's currently in Texas taking up her MBA at the University of Texas - Pan American, and she's in a relationship of her own. Hmmm...okay. Why am I not surprised about that last bit?

Still, I'm grateful she sent me a message. It's been a largely frustrating affair trying to reach her over the last five years or so. She says she'll be here in December...that's still a long way off, but I'd be glad to catch up with her on old times.

Thank you, Denise

Thank you, Denise

After all that's been said and done on this blog, Denise and I are really very, very good friends. That I can now say with the utmost conviction.

I tried calling her last Sunday on her cellphone, and I asked her if she wanted to have dinner sometime this week. She agreed, so I made plans to get off work early tonight.

Braving the Friday night traffic, I swung by her Makati office and picked her up. It was so great seeing her again after so long. We proceeded to the Old Spaghetti House along Valero St. and in seconds we were talking like the long lost friends we were.

Like me, she's also in IT now, having quit from her old job at a major medical goods manufacturer, and like me she's also enjoying the company of her coworkers. We shared stories about supertyphoon Milenyo, homey houses and personal lives over eggplant parmigiana and spaghetti aglio olio.

It felt so refreshing to be as open as I could be with someone who already knew me very well. There was none of the frustrating repression I felt for the last couple of weeks. Here she was instead, laughing along with me, unafraid of being misunderstood because we knew we wouldn't be. We were mired in traffic when we left for her house, but we kept chatting and singing away to jazz songs.

After so many years, it was tonight that I finally realized had we ended up together in college, we wouldn't have agreed to see each other like this post-graduation. I realized just how valuable our friendship is to her and how she wanted to keep it this way, without undue stress.

I missed Denise a lot, and she missed me as well. I am so glad and grateful we had this chance to reconnect.

We should do this again, Den. If you need me, you know where to find me.

Anticipation vs. reality

Anticipation vs. reality

Last night I got into a late-night chat with Trish, one of my friends from the Zobel days. The topic inevitably turned towards love.

I guess I shouldn't have been surprised when she told me she'd had a boyfriend in college, but I was still caught unprepared. More surprising than that fact, though, was that she could relate with my present situation.

She told me it was so hard to be with someone who communicates better via mediums than face-to-face. Very true, I nodded. And it's a sad fact that sometimes the thought of being with someone is more tantalizing than the reality.

On many a lonely night before drifting to sleep, I wondered about these things. I was slowly discovering how hard I actually had things going for me. The gift of good conversation is very, very important for me, because I know beauty will fade away. Yet here I am, trying to get close to someone whom I find truly attractive, whom I am intimidated with because of her unflinching silence, whom I have extreme difficulty just easing an honest laugh out of. Many times I feel like I fell into some very elaborate trap hook, line and sinker.

Disappointment persisted in my head, although I try my best not to succumb to it until I get to the point where I can actually test these statements. I wonder how long I can suspend it, though...or if it was worth suspending in the first place.

I am confused. I don't know what to do. Should I stay or should I go? I feel as empty as I was when I started. Something is different this time though. I've slowly begun the process of acceptance.

All I can do is keep trying.

Quote of the moment:

Dr. James Wilson: "You can't control your emotions."

Dr. Allison Cameron: "Only your actions."

- House, season 2 episode 6

Redemption from myself...came within myself

Redemption from myself...came within myself

The ability to forgive yourself is the most important of all.

This point I realized when I was tossing and turning in bed last night, the lights turned out, the fluorescent light of the neighbors' empty house penetrating my curtains. I was miserable. I was sick of the heavy burden of guilt and blame I had put on myself, when in Tita Vik's words I had committed no grave sins. I had simply made a few mistakes.

Contrary to what I was thinking, I never needed permission nor an excuse to do so. I am simply a human being. Sure, people will say I have a lot of growing-up to do...but who doesn't? In the tradition of Jean-Paul Sartre, the only people who can truly say they are mature and cannot grow any longer are all dead, the en-soi beings. I am certainly still alive, still a pour-soi entity.

In my misery, I cried and wailed in private, for the first time in a long time. Within the loneliness, I was able to find myself again and make peace. What they say is true: the only person we truly have our whole lives is ourselves, and we should be able to live with ourselves if we are to live at all.

Thank you, Tita Vik. Thank you, Celine. Your words rang so true and clear. Sometimes things can be a lot better if I just disconnected my overactive superego, stopped thinking, and enjoyed living.

Chasing a light from my days of despair

Chasing a light from my days of despair

At work, Paolo J.’s musings about securing his confirmation certificate from Colegio San Agustin, his fixation on Lego bricks as a kid, and his stories of his own “school of hard knocks” got me thinking back to my own childhood. The first thing I mentioned was pretty important to him as he’s getting married soon.

I kept quiet, but I suddenly felt this urge to look for something from my troubled youth. Growing up in the clique-filled rich kid’s school called De La Salle Zobel meant I was a semi-permanent misfit and an open target for rejection and hate. I have to admit some of it was righteous, due to my being a social “late bloomer,” but that doesn’t mean I have a lot of fond memories of the place where I spent 13 years of my life in, either. In those times of misery, I was desperate to look for anyone who would take me in as a friend. However, searching within that very small “social fishbowl” proved frustrating.

Cheri Donato became our guidance counselor when I was in third grade. Actually, she was assigned to handle four batches, from third to seventh grade, and she was one of the more popular counselors around due to her warm, welcoming demeanor. I was an occasional visitor to her little office as a kid, but when the depressing adolescent travesty of sixth grade came along, I took to her office so many times for solace.

Back then, I had such a hard time with my classmates that I dreaded school. I came through the classroom doors every day with an uneasy heart and a wandering eye, wondering what they were finding obnoxious about me now, wondering what exactly I should be doing to have them stop recruiting upperclassmen to make fun of me. I thought part of the solution was to approach our dear Teacher Cheri for help, and I did so a lot of times. I even got my most outspoken critics to air their side in these sessions.

It wasn’t until I got out of Zobel and moved on to DLSU for college that I realized how wrong I had been. Despite my maladjustments in my youth, for the most part it was the culture of Zobel itself that made me sullen, awkward and unhappy. Worse, I learned much later that all these counseling “sessions” were anticipated by my classmates because they were convenient breaks from classes…to my regret.

Still, Cheri (I’ll drop the “teacher” tag from now on) tried her best to understand me, despite all those times when my bitterness, anger and frustration must have scared her and the other counselors. Before I graduated from high school, she became part of Zobel’s Adult Night High School program and as such we saw each other less and less frequently. I have to admit she had disappeared from my mind the whole time I was finally enjoying myself in college.

PJ’s musings of his childhood silently prodded me to seek Cheri out. I casually headed to my computer and entered her name on Google.

Imagine my surprise when I immediately saw her on the search results. Apparently she is no longer with Zobel, she’s now working in a logistics company, and she got married to a certain Mr. Villasin within the five years we didn’t see each other. But it was definitely her. I could even recognize her in the picture, and I managed to call her up on my lunch break.

It felt so good hearing her voice again.

Despite my little disclaimer of an introduction (“I’m not sure if you’ll remember me…”), she recognized me right away. She was about to get out of her office, but we exchanged cellphone numbers in case we could catch up with each other again in our spare time.

A hearty grin crossed my face after we hung up. It was so nice to finally reconnect with one of the few memories of my childhood that I still hold dear to my heart. Perhaps now that I’m no longer a troubled adolescent (just a melancholy adult…hahaha!) and she’s no longer my counselor, Cheri and I could finally be friends as equals.

If by any chance you’re reading this, Cheri, I am eternally grateful to you for everything you’ve done for me all those years ago. Let’s have coffee sometime.