HR = stupid!

The HR departments of the companies I’ve applied to so far are all rather stupid.

Why on earth do they have to always, always give me last-minute notice of a job interview?

Why on earth do they not take advantage of the fact that I have a cellphone that they can inform me with? Why on earth do they insist on using only my landline and complain that it’s always busy?

There just has to be a better way of doing this. I feel indignant. I may be unemployed and looking for a job, but I deserve better respect than this.

A bullet for my Beloved

Beloved,
There are only so many places I can follow you into. I’m sick and tired of wanting to fit into your world, one dictated by the iron grip of your idiosyncrasy, because I know I will always stick out like a sore thumb and you will never look at me anyway because I do so.

I’ve given up following you. Can you please go away?

Oh, yeah, that’s right: You were never truly here in the first place.
Shoo.

Bon voyage Auntie

Auntie Carole left for America at 8am today, after a two-week stay at our house. We woke up at 4am this morning to pack her stuff and fetch her to the airport three hours early.

I feel slightly guilty that I wasn’t able to spend more time with her. In the span of the two weeks she was here, I was busy with graduation matters, badminton and job-hunting while she was with Mama and Bianx going to such places as Antonio’s in Tagaytay, Market! Market! and Baguio City. Even more, she’s a genuinely likable fellow, along with Uncle Butch and their kids Czasha and JB in South Pasadena—and I rarely find genuinely likable people in any branch of my family, to be honest.

There will be other times, I suppose. Right now I just wish her a safe trip going back home.
===

I sang the high-pitched tenor part for “Awit ng Paghilom” yesterday unassisted by other fellow tenors as I was the only one there. I felt the pressure to deliver a loud part, and it wasn’t all nice—after the song I felt I had gone wrong somewhere and felt it took a toll on my throat. Ate Nessa was kind enough to back me up.

Judging from how the others reacted I think I did well though. Thanks.
===

Job-hunting has proved interesting so far. No real results yet though. Sigh.
===

Lately I’ve been brushing up on my Initial D skills, now with the “eraser” technique, on time trials along the Akina downhill route. It does work, and my times confirm it (shaved a massive 4 seconds), but it takes a lot of time to perfect using it. Too often I end up one gear too high and kissing the barriers because I failed to downshift into the proper gear after doing the eraser. Also I think I’m doing eraser backwards.

Some stuff I'll miss when I'm working already

After visiting the Job Expo, doing the rounds of the company booths and application forms and deciding to call it a day around noon, I decided to go to Glorietta.

There I decided to have my badminton racket re-strung at Toby’s Sports; I’ve been playing with Aileen and Mabel for a couple Sundays now and I plan on playing regularly again. They said I’d get it back by 3:30. Great, I had a few hours to kill.
===

Aware of my need for more exercise (having my present waistline is a total bummer), I decided to expend my free games on Dance Maniax and hone my skills on Initial D—the usual. A couple of young hotshots were on the Initial D machines and they seemed to know their stuff really well. MAMMY and D4 (the guys’ nicks on their game cards) were tearing up Akina’s downhill on back-to-back time trials, applying the exotic techniques I’ve only read about on the Internet (such as “eraser” shifting) to shave the last possible tenth of a second out of their time records.

MAMMY had a school uniform on, and he was unbelievably fast on a heavy R32 Nissan Skyline GT-R—a car not known for agility in the game. D4 ran a GDB Subaru Impreza and he was equally impressive on it as he was on his “D1” card, an AE86 Toyota Trueno. Figuring I could get some practice laps, I got into the other machine and ran my Mazda RX-8 for a few rounds against computer opponents.

MAMMY asked if I wanted to race. Why not, I thought. Predictably, I lost by a huge margin which got smaller (though I’m not sure how much I clawed back by my skill alone), but it was my fault as I screwed up at the start.

I asked MAMMY how he and his friend did the “eraser” technique, and the two of us got into a fairly involved conversation. They were regulars on the game and played almost a year; I’ve played for longer but more irregularly. The two hotshots gave me a few handy tips about how I could extract more speed out of my Mazda as well.

D4/D1 had to split to light a few smokes and we amicably parted ways. It was nice meeting them, knowing that there are genuinely friendly Initial D players still around today. Since they seem to frequent the area, I’m looking forward to seeing them again some time.

While I’m at it I might as well ask them what their real names are...
===

I went back to Toby’s and they told me they didn’t start tensioning the string because they found a crack on the frame of my racket. Taking a closer look it had gone almost all the way through. They offered to continue at my discretion. Since I already paid for the stringing and the labor, I changed my mind and said I might as well get a new racket and have that strung with the strings I already bought.

Fortunately there were a few rackets they were selling at a discount and I got a graphite Slazenger for PhP1,500, complete with towel grip and a gorgeous free badminton bag. The damn thing accepts higher maximum string tension, too; I had mine strung at 22 lbs. I can’t wait to try it out.
===

Just a couple hours ago I received belated graduation presents from Tita Vik and Nanay. Thank you so much!

Commencement

It’s strange.

Graduation has come and gone and it wasn’t as nerve-wracking an experience as I feared. If anything it was actually a little anticlimactic.

When it all boiled down to it, graduation was really nothing more than a boring march, boring speeches and watching the boring process of seeing 691 other souls walking up to Bro. Armin Luistro FSC and getting a mock diploma. My friend Martin Bañez’s speech was rather moving though, not least of which because to many eyes he looked like on the edge of tears (when he wasn’t). Adding to the anticlimax was the fact that it was simply another day with my beloved blockmates and friends, although we were all dressed like the obnoxious savants of “Beat the Geeks.”

What’s more, after graduation, I didn’t find myself in an expensive restaurant eating at a buffet. No, no, none of that pompousness—that afternoon I was doing grocery shopping and singing in the choir, and that evening I brought and fetched Bianca to and from Mari’s graduation house party. A very ordinary day indeed it was, one without any extraordinary tension or excitement.

Perhaps it just hasn’t struck me yet, the realization that I will not see these wonderful people who are my batchmates again—at least until we organize block outings or come together in some batch reunion so many years later. Or perhaps it’s just that I am more mature and nonchalant about these things—that yes, there are people whom I simply have to see again indefinitely later, because at this point in time I have to meet even more new faces.

Either way, I’m going back to school tomorrow and the rest of the week—this time as an alumnus looking for a job. I’ve got a job interview tomorrow in Makati too—one I’m not really taking all that seriously, but will be helpful anyway as practice.

Sobering, isn’t it?

Countdown to graduation

Yesterday I felt the first indications of how close our impending graduation was. We were in school to pay for our picture-taking, rent our togas, attend the baccalaureate mass and recognition ceremonies, and rehearse the motions for the commencement exercises on Saturday.

In previous terms we could only wonder how those odd folks walking the halls in semi-formal attire and togas felt, only knowing that we’d have our chance at graduation someday. Now that it was finally our turn to do so, it felt a little bit strange and surreal. My blockmates and friends Monique, Anj and Ces didn’t seem to mind; they were making a lot of noise about our being graduates smack dab in the middle of the amphitheater where everybody could see us. We certainly didn’t feel bashful about getting into our togas in public either.

After all my time in DLSU I finally got acquainted with Anj’s friend Ces, whom we “adopted” into our block of CAM-MMG graduates as she was the only OCM-MMG graduate this term. We were all products of the Communication and Marketing departments after all.

Kate and Ces were recipients of the Honorable Mention award, an honor which eluded at least Tantan and I. Still, they had murmurs of discontent as they got bronze medals and a cheap organizer as a token of recognition, while I had a mug and a bronze-and-green medal as Loyalty awardee (DLS-System’s way of saying “thank you for 18 years of making us richer”). Yeah, something was definitely off in that picture.

Of the batchmates I know personally, Veron Bacani got cum laude, while Mica and my old friend Martin Bañez will graduate magna cum laude. Congratulations to all of you guys!
===

The graduation rehearsal was a paragon of forward planning and good event management, to be honest. It’s as if the Office of the University Registrar and the Office of Career Services got together seamlessly to not only make sure the graduation proceedings go well, but also that we fresh graduates have a crack at job-hunting literally the whole week after we graduate at the Job Expo. They gave us five free tickets to the event too.

They even made sure to include a Request for Documents form in our Graduation Package in case we wanted to obtain transcripts (as I’m sure most of us will), as well as a Graduate Information Sheet so companies can look for us on the OCS’ roster if they’re considering hiring any of us.

It’s the stuff of genius. Mr. Gutierrez, my Events Marketing prof, would have been mighty proud.
===

Ces just started work at Universal Robina Corp last Friday as a brand assistant and it seems like an interesting marketing-related job to gain experience from. While I was asleep this afternoon, she sent me a message (apparently getting my phone number from KD) about whom I should e-mail my resume to.

That was real nice of her. I think I might as well give it a chance. Thanks Ces.
===

My mom was asking me if I wanted to invite anybody to the lunch or dinner after graduation. I don’t really have any plans yet. Whom exactly should I invite anyway, apart from my family?

It would be great if the whole block could get together and have lunch as one long, happy, noisy table, but that might be asking for too much and some of us may have plans of their own.

On the cheap

My first real bit of spending for the year saw me buying a gray fine-tip enamel Gundam Marker for panel lines, a black acrylic Gundam Marker I bought by mistake, a 0.01mm black technical pen, a Creative Modem Blaster internal modem, and a pair of Bench cargo denims—on sale for only PhP400.

Now that I’ve resolved not to buy any more Gunpla for the time being, it’s pleasantly surprising to see all the stuff I can buy with my money.
===

It’s not everyday one gets a couple of Benjamin Franklins in an envelope as a gift. Thanks Tita Dani and Tito Bobby.

It’s not everyday one gets an Cross ballpen engraved with your name, too. Thanks Tito Kiko.
===

Damn, my body is sore from badminton. That didn’t stop me from hauling the computers around the house and cleaning out all their dust though.
===

“Gulong ng Palad” claims it is a soap opera that goes back to basics.

The way I see it, “back to basics” means seeing the same old rich-boy-falls-for-poor-girl plot rehashed to kingdom come. Ewww. And you wonder why I don’t watch local TV.

The smashing choir-boy

This weekend had the Sun Valley Music Ministry practically written all over it.

Last night after mass we rehearsed a bit for the upcoming “concert,” then headed out to SM Bicutan for dinner at Tokyo Tokyo with Aileen, Mabel, Leejay, Jajah and Denz. I was practically interrogated by Jajah over dinner, and I was a bit uncomfortable with it, but I suppose she meant well. We were there long enough to see SM Bicutan close down at a disappointingly early 9 pm, at which point I had trouble looking for an open restroom.

Today I skipped the trip to Hagonoy to sing in the mass. Since no one was going to be home, I thought of tagging along with Aileen and Mabel to SM Bicutan again for lunch and the odd bit of grocery shopping. I picked them up again with Matthew at 1:30pm for badminton at nearby Whackers World, where surprisingly there was also a television set following Manny “Pacman” Pacquiao’s rematch against Erik “El Terrible” Morales. After badminton and watching Aileen and her son Miggy train, we headed back to Mini Stop for an afternoon snack before going home.

Until I met these guys, I confess I wasn’t the type to hang out in places particularly close to my village. I was always at Makati or Alabang probably because of my mom’s influence, never in Bicutan—probably why I had only a few friends in the village. If anything, I’m thankful to them now that I got to appreciate the suburban charm of that little part of the world closest to home. Besides, Aileen, Mabel and Matthew are really nice to hang around with.
===

I seem to be singing a lot better now too.
===

Manny “Pacman” Pacquiao has stopped Erik “El Terrible” Morales in the tenth round of their rematch.

While it’s a really big—almost fanatical—deal for most Pinoys I know, I’m simply happy he won. There’s much to be said about stopping someone as durable and as long-limbed as Morales is. Minutes after watching the replay of the bout, I can say Manny absolutely owned the ring.

Looks like Manny did practice a lot more than his vocal chords after all.
===

Auntie Carole just arrived this morning at 2:10am, and she was game enough to head on to Hagonoy around 9 hours later and to Baguio for 3 days at a supposed 6am ETD tomorrow morning.
===

It’s nice finally being able to play badminton again. I didn’t notice how much I missed playing, smashing and sweating it out until now. I really do hope I keep playing for a good long while.

On the soapbox today...

Like many Filipinos nowadays, I don’t like how our country is progressing and I’m tired of it.

I’m sick of all the politicking. It’s so blatantly obvious that many of our politicians are interested in advancing their own interests, not those of the electorate that put their hallowed asses up there in the first place. Pressing issues like education and reforming the electoral system are pooh-poohed in favor of foreign debt servicing (which isn’t a bad thing), looking for kickbacks and the endless bickering on political matters (which are).

Solutions are presented left and right, such as Constitutional or Charter change to allow for a parliamentary or federal system, and the ouster of President Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo. While I’m no fan of Arroyo’s, I’m against ousting her. That said, the Charter change proposed by her and her partymates is not a solution to any of the Philippines’ political ills. I can’t believe how these politicians don’t see this. Seeing how fractured and disunited the major players of the political landscape are, having a prime minister in this country beholden to a finicky Parliament will be the day political instability rules the roost permanently. While the federal system sounds good on paper, with the volume of our national debt it’s just silly even thinking about it.

The solutions being offered by our present politicians are half-hearted at best because they stink of the political ambitions and power-grabbing we Filipinos have become so sick of. What we need to change is blatantly obvious but ignored.

We need to change our electoral system, and make sure that voting is as straightforward as it gets. There ought to be no vote-buying, vote padding and shaving (dagdag-bawas) and certainly none of the election-related violence. We had such huge chances to reform this but we failed so many times.

We need to put more money into the educational system. Our politicians should stop treating it as a haven or excuse for liquidating corruption. Just how greedy or stupid can they be to short-circuit the nation’s only real chance of improvement?

We need to change they way we do social welfare. I’m not immune to this but I’ve been responsible for my fair share of doleouts to the poor. It’s easy to do doleouts, true, but that’s a short-sighted solution at best. It’s better to teach men how to fish instead of giving them fish all the time—more than simple skill, empowerment is the name of the game. Besides, just how many of us feel empowered? Precisely. It’s this empowerment that will also address another of our long-standing social ills, abject poverty.

The last things we need are more half-hearted solutions, more politicians wasting even more of our time bickering to high heaven, and more People Power revolutions.

Jaded, sober, keeling over

I might have finally become jaded with my hobby...at least by a little.

Model making is expensive, that I already know. The high expense of priming, painting, sanding and bonding all of these plastic parts is obvious; however I haven’t even painted most of the kits I have. Rather, I’m put off by the expense of the kits themselves not being commensurate to the satisfaction I’d expected.

Many of my bigger 1/100 Gunpla models are startlingly imperfect considering how much I shell out for them. For all the engineering greatness of the MG Zeta Gundam ver.2.0 kit, for instance, it hasn’t stopped me from breaking its left middle finger made of ABS plastic. The Gundam Astray Red Frame isn’t as posable as its joints and construction promise it would be. The MG Strike Rouge has disappointingly weak legs and feet, while the MG Zeta Plus A1’s crotch-leg plates have inexorably come loose.

While this probably won’t turn me off from the hobby altogether, I guess this is a welcome wake-up call from the power of Bandai’s marketing machine. Couldn’t have come at a better time, really.

Maybe I should seriously consider selling some of them off.
===

Edith told me that I was too much of a perfectionist, and indirectly I could sense she thought I was being too hard on myself.

I gave it some thought. Apparently, all my life I have had trouble grasping this concept of “being human”—people cannot be expected to totally avoid making mistakes, nor can they be expected to fulfill their roles to the letter all the time. If foul-ups happen, we should just laugh them off.

This is one of those cases where I am pretty sure my biggest enemy is myself. I don’t know what happened to my psyche growing up, but I developed the mindset that people should be at their best 100% of the time; conversely I should be too. As a result I had put tremendous pressure on myself and on others, and I didn’t even know it. I treat mistakes harshly, and if they’re mine I take them to heart; I am uncomfortable letting my bad experiences slide.

Looking at myself now, I wonder how I became such a self-loathing neurotic. I wonder how I could bring myself to be otherwise. It’s sickening how I’m this tightly coiled spring all the time, especially in times when I simply don’t need to be high-strung.

One of my favorite movies, “EDtv,” has this ending song lyric:
If you wanna be somebody else, change your mind.

It’s a lot easier said than done. Knowing what my problem is is only half the battle.
===

One of those things that keeps me high-strung: clocks and watches.

Growing up as a kid I couldn’t imagine life without wearing a watch. To be honest, though, I feel nowadays they’re nothing more but invisible fetters. And the stupid thing is, I can’t help but look at them. I can’t break myself out of the shackles of time.

burn in hell, bitch!

Thanks to one of Bianca’s friends, I was able to watch the first season of “Project Runway” on DVD. From the title, you can tell this reality show is focused around fashion. Twelve fashion designers take on challenges, which revolve around designing, creating and modeling an outfit based on the theme for each episode. It’s a lot like “Iron Chef America,” only here both the designer and their selected model are up for elimination with the judges’ decision. Three finalists from the original twelve get to create their own fall-season collection for the Olympus Fashion Week, where one will ultimately be judged the winner.

Okay, fashion to me is normally the kind of high-budget nonsensical folly I merely tolerate but never really try to understand. However I found this show rather interesting—enough to sustain my interest in it to stay up until 5am watching the episodes in a marathon. In those hours I spent in front of the TV, I gained at least a little understanding of what designers and the fashion world look for. Yes, they do look for wearable and flattering outfits, not simply nonsensical avant-garde clothing mishmash that looks good on the runway but is pretty ridiculous everywhere else.

“Project Runway” also highlighted the lengths some people would go to just to win, and the pressure can get so elevated it’s no longer entertaining. This was personified in Wendy Pepper, the “longshot” of the final three designers—she was the most unlikely to succeed, as she was a 40-year-old mother with inconsistent results, coming close to elimination so many times.

What she obviously lacked in talent, she made up for with sheer tenacity.

A slowly but surely warping Wendy literally fought off every one of her rivals, backstabbing them, humiliating them and throwing her weight into the judging to make sure she wouldn’t be eliminated. The woman obviously has no taste—or one that is incompatible with what the show was looking for. So many of her competitors had a lot more talent than her, but got eliminated. Age isn’t a factor either: heavy favorite Kara Soun was just three years her junior but had overwhelming amounts of creativity and fashion sense. It’s horrible watching Wendy survive all that way and in my opinion it is just correct that she should not win “Project Runway.”

I am so glad one of my favorite contestants won, a real character whom I didn’t expect win at first but bowled me over with his lovable personality and unique fashion sense. Jay McCarroll absolutely deserved it.
===

Ten things I currently hate

1. Wendy Pepper of “Project Runway.”

2. Infocom Warpspeed and its eternally busy dialup number. And I thought PLDT owned this?!

3. The Metropolitan Manila Development Authority and its misguided “urban renewal projects.”

4. The sickening traffic along Aurora Boulevard.

5. My monitor, which shows me everything in a twitchy blue tinge.

6. My 56K modem, which works no faster than 19.8K.

7. Peter Chung’s 1995 MTV animated series “Aeon Flux.” What was the point of it all?!

8. Unemployment. Rather obvious, this.

9. The overeager ants in my house.

10. My noisy next-door neighbors. Turn your goddamn stereo down!
===

Ten things I currently like

1. The Sun Valley Music Ministry.

2. PLDT Vibe post-paid. Expensive and slow, but a good stopgap when in between prepaid Internet cards.

3. Sleep. Believe it or not, I actually like sleeping more now.

4. Driving...now that I don’t get to do enough of it.

5. A good Dance Maniax workout with no one to make fun of me. Five games or longer.

6. Austin Scarlett, Kara Soun and Jay McCarroll of “Project Runway.” Likable, they seem. Talented, they are.

7. Ely Buendia’s jingle “Watcha Lukin 4?” for Aileen’s pet project, the Mobile Yellow Pages.

8. Junk food. Yes, yes, I should be eating healthier, I know.

9. Talking to my Leyteña “fwend” Cher again over YM after so long.

10. SM Megamall and its cheap Initial D ver.3 machines. Play more.

"Nazakenaii...!"

For all the experience, talent and skill I have, I found out that I can still lose my self-confidence with disturbing ease. That sliver of self-loathing and doubt lurks at the back of my head, always ready to strike, debilitating me, reducing me to the sniveling 12-year-old with low self-esteem I was.

Only this time, I am stuck in a twentysomething’s body and the world will accordingly be less accommodating. The world will not show compassion for my self-pity, nor wait for me to regain my self-confidence.

Yes, I am afraid, nervous and unsure.
===

Am I such a droolin' fool
That all I ever think of is you?
And am I such a ludicrous girl
To make you the center of my world?

Springtime has come and gone again
When my phone rings, I'm hoping it's you
Although I shouldn't want it to

Because you, you are my greatest flaw
And I'm so ashamed to say
I'll do it again everyday
You, you are my greatest flaw
I know that I am smart;
Can somebody tell my heart?

I want to see you, then I don't
I'll drag you to the feelings, I won't
And when I do you're wasting my time
Trashing what is left of my spine

Summer is playing its greatest hit
Every Friday I hope that we meet
Although I shouldn't wish for it

Because you, you are my greatest flaw
And I'm so ashamed to say
I'll do it again everyday
You, you are my greatest flaw
I know that I am smart;
Will somebody tell my heart?

Didn't I tell you so?
Didn't you even know?
Didn't I tell you so?
Yes I know, know, know,
You're my greatest flaw because you...

And I know that I am smart;
Will somebody tell my, somebody tell my heart?
You, you are my greatest flaw;
I'm so ashamed to say
I'll do it again everyday
You, you are my greatest flaw
I know that I am smart;
Will somebody tell my heart?
Somebody tell my heart...

—D’Sound, “My Greatest Flaw”

You Are 20 Years Old

Under 12: You are a kid at heart. You still have an optimistic life view - and you look at the world with awe. 13-19: You are a teenager at heart. You question authority and are still trying to find your place in this world. 20-29: You are a twentysomething at heart. You feel excited about what's to come... love, work, and new experiences. 30-39: You are a thirtysomething at heart. You've had a taste of success and true love, but you want more! 40+: You are a mature adult. You've been through most of the ups and downs of life already. Now you get to sit back and relax.

What Age Do You Act?

Yawn

It is with slight disappointment that I learn our block trip to Zambales is postponed indefinitely. Apparently not enough of us are free tomorrow, or on any other weekend within the month. Sigh.

This means I rot at home again...doubtless to the glee of my mother.

I am bored, very bored.
===

Within the sickening morass of call center and sales positions I see in my Jobstreet e-mails and classified ads, I’m surprised there are actually people out there who are looking for writers and graphic artists—precisely the kind of work I wouldn’t mind taking up. It was all a matter of knowing where to look, and PinoyExchange was pretty helpful.

Still, I was foolish enough to consider scheduling an interview with some customer service or technical support company—precisely the kind of work I want to avoid. Oh well. I might as well go to the interview and just see how I do.
===

I wonder how true it is that I will get mail and called for job offers immediately after my graduation? It’s just two weeks away.
===

In the sea of useless tests out there, this one is worth taking. I got this from Dana.

http://www.humanmetrics.com/cgi-win/JTypes2.asp

"No Ordinary Morning"

If there was nothing that I could say
Turned your back and you just walked away
Leaves me numb inside I think of you
Together is all I knew

We moved too fast but I had no signs
I would try to turn the hands of time
I look to you for the reason why
The love we had passed me by

And as the sun would set you would rise
Fall from the sky into paradise
Is there no light in your heart for me
You've closed your eyes you don't longer see

There were no lies between me and you
You said nothing of what you knew
But there was still something in your eyes
Left me helpless and paralysed

You could give a million reasons change the world and change the time
Could not give me the secrets of your heart and of your mind
In the darkness that surrounds me now there is no piece of mind
Your careless words undo me, leave the thought of us behind
You could give a million reasons change the world and change the time
Could not give me the secrets of your heart and of your mind
In the darkness that surrounds you now there is no piece of mind
Your careless words undo me, leave the thought of us behind

If there was nothing that I could say
Turned your back and you just walked away
Leaves me numb inside I think of you
Together is all I knew

We moved too fast but I had no signs
I would try to turn the hands of time
I look to you for the reason why
The love we had passed me by

And as the sun would set you would rise
Fall from the sky into paradise
Is there no light in your heart for me
You've closed your eyes you don't longer see

There were no lies between me and you
You said nothing of what you knew
But there was still something in your eyes
Left me helpless and paralysed

— Chicane and Maire Brennan, “No Ordinary Morning”

Trust...or the lack of it.

This is nuts.

Just because she’s not comfortable with my driving, my mom has no trust in me doing so from here to Zambales and back.

Bullshit. I know my limits. I know when I should be full-throttle and when I should feather it. But the way she talks to me is insulting. I feel like a kid! It’s as if I’d never driven to Tagaytay for Beia’s wedding two years ago.

Trust will never develop until you give it a chance to grow.

Belly blues

All this partying and excess has taken a toll on my body and it’s not funny. My belly’s grown and I’m having difficulty wearing my pants. It’s about time I worked this off.

After a couple weeks away from the machine, I plan on returning to my regular exercise habit of Dance Maniax at SM Bicutan. Nothing fancy, just four or five games in succession at Wild difficulty and 1.5x speed, just the way I usually do it. Of course, “fancy” is a relative term, and my playing style might be fancier than most, as I use my whole body to play Dance Maniax where others use purely their arms, their legs coming into play just as a third limb on a few songs.

I’m not impressed by people who play the familiar songs at 2.0x, 2.5x or even 3x speed, but use only their hands. What I’m after is the total body workout, not to show off the difficulty of keeping up.

It felt good getting back on the machine this afternoon. Unlike lifting weights, which I don’t really enjoy, I can see myself playing Dance Maniax over and over, kicking, punching, jumping, shaking my hips and waving my arms to the beat. I could say the same for badminton, but the trouble with that game is you need four to play a doubles match (and I suck at singles). Then again, Aileen did try to invite me to play with them at nearby Whackers World yesterday. Given how bored I was with the house party, I should have gone with her, at least to shake off the rust from my legs.
===

After the five-game workout, I dried off, changed shirts and spent my last PhP500 SM gift check. Nothing big: just a pair of relatively cheap Panasonic headphones and a 48-CD wallet, which I direly needed to rid my room of some clutter. From the looks of things, I’ll be needing another one of those.

House parties

The Sun Valley Music Ministry had its post-Christmas party last night at Jaja’s place—the first occasion I would be seeing these guys outside of church. They were a relaxed bunch of noisy and happy people, and they weren’t as square as I thought, which helped me get comfortable with them. If anything I was the quietest of the group by a long shot.

I got to talk with Aileen and she told me about her career and a potential opening at her present company. It seemed like an interesting job given what I had going for me, and I told her I would be interested. I echoed her sentiments about sales jobs: I’d rather not be there.

Received a couple free pieces of pottery from Monser’s business; the striped blue mug was nice. I had a bit too much alcohol—given my weak resistance to it, I was tipsy until the time I got home and slept. It’s surprising how dry and alcoholic Philippine mango wine is.

Overall it was really enjoyable. I’d love to hang out with these people more often. Which reminds me, I have to sing with them again a little later.
===

A little later than that, we’ll be having the Geronimo clan over at our house instead of at Caloocan. Yeesh. It’ll be pandemonium here I guess.

Success: to labor or not to labor?

Fourteen hours of manual labor, cutting, sanding and snap-fitting almost 400 parts, was what it took to build my MG Zeta Gundam ver.2.0.

Yes, it was my most expensive kit ever. Yes, it hurt my fingers fiddling with tough ABS plastic parts. And yes, I lost sleep on the damn thing, working from 1 pm to 4 am, stopping only for dinner and progress photos—and I worked two more hours on the weapons when I woke up.

It was all worth it.

Why, I even beat Dalong.net to the punch, typing up a review of this kit literally the day I finished building it and posting it on MechaPinoy.net. I gave it 97 points; it deserves it as the best, most stable Zeta Gundam model kit ever at this price point. To beat it, you’d have to spend a lot more money on a Perfect Grade kit—enough to buy four of these new MGs.

You can tell I’m very enthusiastic about my hobby. Sigh. Like Shiro said, if only we could do Gunpla as work...
===

Last night Rachel invited me to attend this business opportunity overview thing at the Asian Institute of Management conference center. Along came Mao and Rachel’s parents.

I won’t say much, I will say that it’ll be better if people went to the orientation themselves and decided accordingly. Right now I’m unemployed, and I haven’t even had a job yet, so I don’t know how hard it is to earn my own money. This business opportunity promised a “pipeline” of wealth and success, and all I had to do was build mine.

I left the venue a bit apprehensive. This was something my parents didn’t approve of; they told me I had better things to do with my time. Frankly, it sounded too good to be true anyway—and these sorts of things usually are. Maybe I should experience bringing buckets for now.

Perhaps some other time, then.
===

It was nice seeing you again. It was just my good luck working when we crossed paths again, I guess.

Maybe it’s about time I decided that I should take the credit of seeing you again and not leave it up to Lady Luck.

Reading.

Most of the reading I do is centered on my magazine collection—old issues of Autocar and Top Gear Philippines. Autocar I am particularly taken to reading because the ASEAN version which used to be sold here has all but gone from the newsstands, although I frequent their UK website. I guess you can say that re-reading has become a pastime for me.

I’m not in the habit of reading the newspapers because frankly much of what’s written there just goes over my head. My dad had other plans though.

Now that I had more free time, he said over dinner, I should read the business news. I should be listening to what the two dailies we subscribe to say about why the stock market and the peso exchange rate acted in a certain way. BusinessWorld and the Philippine STAR would have slightly different opinions, and over time I should observe which one was right. After a while of following the news, I should be able to make my own opinions. I suppose it’ll come in handy later on, when I have enough money to gamble on the stock market.

It’s just as well, I guess. Blokes like me who don’t have money ought to learn from those to make and handle gigantic wads of cash, the likes of which I can only imagine. Times like these, I think I should be brushing up on my old FINAMA1 and FINAMA2 lessons.
===

Some proof I’ve been reading: The Philippine peso is touted as the best-performing currency in Asia and the fifth best-performing in the world in 2005, according to BusinessWorld.

The STAR meanwhile reported that our humble peso now trades at 52.80 to a US dollar.
===

I am glad I have friends who truly do read my blog and appreciate what they read on it. Although they don’t make their presence felt via comments (which I’d welcome), they’re there.

Speaking of blogs...I’m not much of a bloghopper myself. Judging from the blogs I’ve linked to, however, I should really be spending more time reading them. A lot of my friends have good, insightful musings that are worth reading.
===

Despite my unbelief in the usual annual craziness the fortune-tellers and feng shui “experts” spout every New Year, there was one of them who had timely advice: clean out your rooms.

This was supposedly to improve the flow of chi in the house. Whatever, man.

In the afternoon of New Year’s Eve, I set about cleaning my room anyway. I knew for a fact that I had so many shirts I no longer wore, and pants that I had long since outgrown. I guess I kept them in the vain hope that I would fit in them again someday. Well, it’s about time I accepted reality and gave them out to people who would put them to better use than I.

In the perpetual fire hazard that is my bookshelf, I cleared out the little scraps of paper that had become inconsequential to me as they were part of the more mundane elements of school life. My pink plush microfiber towel was put to good use cleaning up the dirt and dust that had built up in my room. With the volume of dust in there, it’s surprising I’ve never had an asthma attack.

It felt good afterwards. Now all I need are CD organizers and probably a glass display shelf for my models (so they keep from attracting dust mite shit). I’ll probably have to toss some old magazines out, but they can wait.
===

Man. It’s not even my birthday yet but I’m so damn excited about finally bringing that MG Zeta Gundam ver.2.0 kit home. C’mon, Santa, I’ve been a good boy.

Dalong.net had just posted 150dpi scans of the assembly manual (well, this is a first), and while they took considerably more time to download, they were greatly detailed at high zoom levels. Shame they didn’t have finished photos and a final review/rating for the kit, though.

At the rate they’re going, I just might finish the build, write and publish my own review first.

the Moonville gang

9:30 am. Half an hour awake and I get a message on my phone.

Paolo was telling me he and Bong were going to school. I could come along and we could go somewhere afterwards. Cool, I said. What time do we leave?

Just like that, we were in my car puttering our way to school for their enrollment and adjustment. It had been a good while since we hung out with each other, and I was sick of rotting away at home.

It didn’t take long to get the school business done, although the school server had a tantrum and that meant we had to wait almost an hour before Paolo could get his receipt. We went to Glorietta without Bong, and by some stroke of luck Jared chanced upon us while we were eating lunch. And so, we headed on to Timezone and threw money away on the games.

We looked around, making side remarks on how ridiculously overpriced Nike is, being brushed off by sellers of expensive watches, looking for alternatives. Then we went to Goldcrest, and there waited the last MG Zeta Gundam ver.2.0 kit, selling for PhP3150. I couldn’t believe my luck; I had to reserve it now. Off I sprinted to the ATM, withdrawing the reservation amount and running back to reserve it for a month. Yay. This will be almost perfect timing as a birthday gift to myself.

We walked around and checked out musical equipment before heading home. At Paolo’s place we were all surprised to see his cousin Tad. It was a small reunion, really.

It’s been a long time since we’ve been friends, Paolo and I, and it all started with my sketches and his PlayStation. Although we don’t hang out as often as we would like, what time we do have together is quality time.

This was a great day, mainly because they were there with me.

Spoken while trying to keep out of a trance

Now that the holidays have ended, I feel the pressure building on me to make something of myself. I am unemployed, after all. Unless I do something I remain a bottomless well of expenses.

Soon it will be time for me to decide for myself if I want to be productive and proactive, or bored, stagnating and on permanent summer vacation. That’s not even a real choice. Still, I am mulling over my chances of getting employed. I dread the chances of landing in a job I do not enjoy.

Until then, I should be like my friend Julie from PETA, always on the lookout for new part-time gigs.
===

It’s 2 am in the morning and I want to sing my heart out. I can’t help it. I want to develop myself, to be as good as the singers of Hangad. Unfortunately my choir friends surely must be asleep.

The kudos has heaped on me. They were telling me how amazing it was that I was a fast learner, that I picked up notes quickly, that I had a good voice with volume, that with a little work I could be soloist in a few months.

While I appreciate and am thankful of all the comments, frankly I’d rather not hear them right now. I am new, I am untested, I have little of the confidence of the others (especially the sopranos). There is still so much I need to learn. Edith said I needed to develop vibrato or tremolo, and hoped that I could stay on for a long time—“we really need boys.”

The only thing I don’t like about this so far is that some “active” individuals in my parish whom I detest may think I joined in the choir because of their suggestion so many years ago. I have no love lost for them, and I joined this time simply because this time I truly wanted to. Forcing me into things will usually not work.
===

A happy happy birthday to my dear sister, Bianca.
===

I feel hollow. Hungry, even. I do not understand. I am yearning for something I cannot identify. The only thing I know for sure is the more I yearn for it, the more it is impinged into my psyche that I can never truly have it.

What is ‘it’ then?

I am sick of nights of half-baked sleep. Now as I type this post, staring into a malfunctioning monitor, I wonder how nice (and how wasteful) it would be to fall into a relaxing trance...

New Year's morn

Everyone is asleep. The smoke and stench of gunpowder has not fully left, although there is less of it now than there was last year. ‘Tis a quiet morning, and I am awake, playing and singing to liturgical music.

I have woken up two hours too early. I will probably take a nap later. I am thinking of how the holidays have wrought their damage to my body. Yet more New Year’s resolutions to lose weight pop into mind—ones that most likely will not follow through. They will not do so precisely because they are New Year’s resolutions. Hahahaha.

For all the food and drink I have consumed just hours earlier, I am appalled that none of it was filling. I had eaten empty calories? Then again, perhaps alcohol had something to do with it. This was the closest I have ever been to getting drunk. Amazing it is how quickly I could consume red wine.

On the drive home at 2:30 am I heard my father singing along—for the first time in my memory. He was singing along to the Beatles in A Hard Day’s Night. It was disjointed, but unmistakable. Was this evidence of some alcohol left in his system?

In two hours’ time I will also be singing, back in the church where I had first sung as a tenor the night before.

Ba-dah, ba da...ba-dah, ba da...badadah ba da...

Holding back the year

Lately the yearning in my heart has ebbed. I still want you in my life, but the desire has throttled back, the wick turned down a little.

Perhaps it is for the best. Being consumed by desire for you at this stage will just mean I’ll end up not being with you. I’ve never been a patient fellow, but it’s about time I became one.
===

Received a strange text message last night. It was written in all caps telling me how the sender found my friendship comforting but I was too different from him/her and that he/she loved me.

Well, now I know what would happen if I came on too strong on my beloved. I’d be livid. That’s the end of that...
===

I seem to wear out my denims and other pants in the crotch area. I guess the friction between my legs while I walk degrades the material and makes it thinner, eventually leading to holes in my pants.

I finally have denims after a few months of not having a pair to wear. Thanks Ma.
===

Traffic on EDSA was atrocious last night. We got held up in semi-gridlock for a couple hours just to find out everyone was heading for Pasay; the overpass going to the SLEX had almost zero traffic. Talk about taking a damn wrong turn.
===

I’m not good at evaluating entire years; there will always be disappointment or regret as well as happiness and glee in an otherwise boring chunk of existence.

Still, I’d say it was a good year overall. Met some wonderful people, finished my thesis and started a new hobby, although one that’s rather hard on the finances. I’m none the worse for wear, either, although there’s no denying I’m getting older now.

According to feng shui experts I’m supposed to have a bad year ahead. I don’t really believe in luck (unless it’s in poker or other games of chance) so it all goes over my head, frankly, and I couldn’t care less. Besides I still like to think that we make a lot of our own luck.

Happy New Year, everyone.

After Christmas

Today was my first rehearsal at my choirmaster Edith’s house-cum-studio-cum-preschool. From there I learned a little more about the Sun Valley Music Ministry and its members, the cheery chaps I’ll be spending my weekends with.

Turns out I’m one of the youngest on board. A number of them already have their own families, Edith included. As it also turns out there is an overwhelming majority of Lasallians, Edith also included. Upon learning that I spent all my life in Sun Valley, she told me that with my voice I could have joined the choir many, many years ago. It was almost nine years ago that Mrs. Valencia, my music teacher from seventh grade, assured me that I should join the Zobel Chorale after hearing me sing; the present parish choir started just a year earlier.

When I look back at the time I think I sort of wasted my voice. Sure, I had four years devoted to Counterpoint in high school. But because I was relatively inactive in orgs in college I should have considered joining them five years ago. I suppose I had been intimidated by how mature they seemed, how great they were, and discouraged by how late my family heard mass. Then again, if Edith says I’m one of the youngest guys I guess it hasn’t too late. All I really had to do was wait after a morning mass and gather up the guts to ask Edith if I could join.

Fortunately I seem to be picking up on the notes quickly. I want to do well on this new gig and I’ll make sure I reserve time for it, even if other demands siphon off my free time in the future.
===

Yesterday I deposited the monetary gifts I received and bought a few things. I finally bought DVDs of Mobile Suit Gundam 0083: Stardust Memory and Ghost in the Shell: Stand Alone Complex 2nd GIG, dispelling an impulse to reward myself with a model kit. Browsing Powerbooks for the first time in a long time, I looked for Haruki Murakami’s books. I was aghast at how expensive it is to buy his books these days, and I ended up buying F. Sionil Jose’s Ermita. I’ll get around to buying a 56K modem to replace my 56K-but-acting-at-16.8K unit soon enough.

I watched 0083 on a marathon last night and it was great overall. It has very slick animation, amazing considering it was made in 1990. Quite refreshing to watch a Gundam series without Newtypes—just your ordinary mobile suit pilots fighting each other to the death, with none of the “super robot” influence of recent Gundam anime.

I just got confused about the final three episodes. Suddenly things got too complicated too soon. We know that the Earth Federation’s tyrannical Titans were formed in UC 0083, adopting full military power in Mobile Suit Z Gundam four years later, but exactly how they fit into the big picture of Operation Stardust and the side-switching wasn’t so clear. That ending was rather bizarre, too.
===

Boredom is getting the better of me these days. I want to find work ASAP. I’ll give myself a maximum of two months jobless; I can’t stand having nothing beneficial to do. It’s dehumanizing.

Ten things I learned this Christmas

1. Christmas will (sadly?) continue to be an overtly commercial holiday.

2. No matter what I do, I will definitely suck at playing chess, checkers or tic-tac-toe—regardless of whether it’s the pen-and-paper or the 3D variety.

3. On the Internet, nothing is sacred, secret or private. (Like this blog, for instance. Maybe I should get a LiveJournal account...)

4. No matter how sound your suggestions are, there will always be people (family members most especially) that will absolutely NOT listen.

5. I need to develop my resistance to disease.

6. I need to develop my resistance to alcohol.

7. Asking people to keep a secret for four years is asking a bit too much, in fairness.

8. Twenty-two years on, I still suck at handling money.

9. It doesn’t really matter what you give—it’s the act that counts. Although very thoughtful gifts get added points for effect.

10. Before I ever get around to confessing my feelings for my beloved, I will need to develop my spine and my self-confidence with her. More waiting, yes.

11. I still do not know how to court girls...I must learn.
===

Suddenly that MG Zeta Gundam ver. 2.0 model kit I’ve been eyeing seems attainable now. I’m still not happy about that price tag, though. Friends from MechaPinoy are telling me it’ll cost PhP3,500, and despite already being out in Japan, it most likely won’t be coming in until very early next year.

Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhh.

I’m trying to distract myself from the spiffy new Zeta Gundam kit by fiddling around with my MG Zeta Plus A1 model...to little avail. As flawed as the new kit seems in some parts (I’m not a fan of the lengthened Zeta face), it’s still the prototype—the daddy of transforming mobile suits, gloriously born in 1985.
===

Just as I thought I’d be able to help the parish choir with how I am as a singer now, I’ve just been proven dead wrong. There’s no way around it; I will need rehearsals and I need them badly if I am not to drag the choir down. I can only go so far with singing melody.

They’re tapping me for Tenor 2. Just as well: I am a baritone, for all intents and purposes. I’m starting rehearsals this week.
===

Anyway, I just hope everyone reading this had a good Christmas. Let’s not forget that essentially, we’re celebrating someone else’s birthday; let’s not celebrate as if it’s all ours and nothing else.

Hangad Kang maging tinig ko’t hininga
Hangad kong tularan ang pagmamahal Mo
Hangad Kang makasabay sa araw-araw
Hangad ko’y hangarin kita...

— Hangad, “Hangad”

Gone by 7:30

I don’t have much time now so I’ll make this short.

Merry Christmas everyone!

Three days to Christmas.

Finally got my car’s aircon system repaired the other day in BF. At PhP13,800, considering the parts that had to be replaced, I believe we got the best deal we could get, short of going to Mang Mario’s fabled shop in Quezon City. Am I glad I didn’t go to Rapide or Denso for repairs. Who knows how much the bill could have been with them?

Looking back, perhaps I was negligent with maintaining my car’s A/C. The secretary of the shop was offering me advice on how to prolong the life of the A/C, such as having the evaporator cleaned and the drier replaced yearly. She also told me of warning signs that should be noted, such as a wet compressor pulley or unusual noise from the compressor. They seem to be helpful, honest guys. I’ll be going back to M.L. Calilung’s shop if I still have my car next year.

Nowadays however I usually prefer driving with the A/C off. I’ve got a nasty head cold and coughs and it’s quite cold enough these days as it is. I actually miss driving around with the windows open.
===

Received my final course card and it was great news. Our efforts had paid off; we bagged a 3.5.

With that grade, I just might be eligible for honorable mention. I hope it’s enough to pull my 2.997 GPA up into the 3.0 range. I’m not a stickler for awards, but it’d be nice if I had it. Would look good on my resume, I guess.
===

Speaking of resumes...I wonder what happened to my Accenture application. It’s been 4 months since I had my second interview with them. I did tell them I would be free by January 2006, but they didn’t even update me about my status. Hmmm.

Well anyway I’ll be going back to school on February because of the job expo. There’s also my application with P&G, which I haven’t heard anything about either. Mao told me they’d call, though. Hmmm. That call’s an awful long time coming.
===

I saw you again. My heart couldn’t stand it. As Itsuki of Initial D said, “You’ve gotten so damn beautiful.”

Before coming over I was mulling the thought of telling you everything. That you were all I could think of lately. That lately my blog has been a testament to how I truly felt about you, if you read it.

People have been telling me, I should tell you how I feel; the initiative should come from me. I should stop being so indirect, addressing you the way I do, in the second person and in my blog, of all places. Yes I knew that, but I wanted to keep on waiting for the time when you’d be free from the burden of relationships past. I may just add to the problem.

Then again, if I kept on waiting for you, I may never be able to tell you that there’s someone who’s hopelessly smitten by you, and he’s nearer to you than you think.

Sigh.

For now, I treasure every moment that I have with you, no matter how short.

I wish I can sing you the song you wanted.

"Good listener"

I wonder what people truly mean when they say I am a good listener.

I listen to their affairs, however mundane: what happened with their boss, who slapped who at which party, who beat who in which race event, who dissed who at which traffic jam at which streets at what time of day.

Often I am relegated to listening because I cannot get a word in. The people I meet can get so self-absorbed; I happen to be their most convenient outlet. I, the blank slate. I, the one perennially unsure of his ability to sustain the interest of others by talking. I, who am also terminally self-absorbed.

I am also relegated to listening because most of the time it is the proper thing to do, even if I honestly don’t give a shit about what some people have to tell me. Yes, let it all out. If it makes you happy, my not-listening can’t really be that bad, as long as you let it out and vent. Perhaps I should be an actor and get roles as a stoic (and be a spectacular failure in the process).

Ultimately however, I am relegated to listening because most of the time I am just too interested in the other person. Although this is beneficial it’s also a personal fault, I guess. I am a prime target for mischief-makers.

Is my being a good listener necessarily a good thing? Or is it some form of weakness? I will never know. All of you whom I will meet will never know, either.

At least I have recognized that I can write, and write well. At the very least, this humble little blog is the place where, for a change, I can get listened to.

If you understand me, that is.

I challenge you. All of you 400 or so people who visit this blog each month. I never started this blog to be popular; I never was. I started this blog so that I may speak the words I cannot speak, the words the people around me will not allow me to speak due to their self-absorption.

I challenge all of you to listen to me.

Belief clung to

Sana ay makilala kang muli, tulad ng dati
Halika at lumapit ka muli, tulad ng dati...
===

I want to believe.

I want to think that you and I can connect somehow. I want to fully appreciate you in your beauty, strangeness and peculiarity. I’ve had my fill of staring at you from afar, even though that hasn’t happened all that often. I am like you; the both of us can never be satisfied by having just a part.
===

There’s a romantic concept in the early “Universal Century” Gundam anime: the concept of Newtypes.

Newtypes are human beings with their psychic abilities awakened by their residence in space. They are capable of telepathy, limited telekinesis and excellent spatial awareness. Certain Newtypes can also form a special bond with each other—a familiarity, understanding and attachment even purer than love, one that transcends even death.
===

Maybe, when the stars and planets align in their celestial dance and everything else works out right, I can finally find you alone and relatively unconcerned with doomed past relationships. Perhaps at that time we can connect. As of now, all I can really do is wait, believe and be there for you.

As you told me once, I am willing to become your punching bag, your listening ear and your ultimate believer.

I just want you to give me a chance.
===

If I wasn’t a vampire, what would you and I have become?
— Arcueid Brunestud, “Shingetsutan Tsukihime”

"You were always on my mind..."

Maybe I rushed into things and didn’t give enough time and consideration. Maybe I should have listened harder, been more perceptive to what was going on in your life. I know precious little about you.

Like Elvis’ song goes, you were always on my mind. I was too stupid to admit it. I was too self-absorbed. I kept missing the point.

Maybe in some other lifetime, we’d have met each other differently. Unfortunately there is only one life—one which must be kept sacred, despite the constant allure of sin and the burden of regrets.
===

Why are my affections always so misguided? It pains me. This is hardly the first time I felt like I’ve been running around like some headless chicken. Some headless chicken I must be, wanting to cry tears from nonexistent eyes, wanting to bury a headless neck in the sand with all the ostriches.

The wonderful dream

I had a wonderful dream this morning. I don’t get enough of those, and strangely I got it at a time when I had difficulty sleeping.

In it, my biggest college crush was with me. We weren’t romantically involved or anything. We were just on some journey together and it ended a short way from her fictional house. We were basically as amicable as we were on that one and only time we met in an ORIENT3 class, but even so, it felt wonderful. It was great, just seeing her.

It’s funny that we were in the same college for five years yet we only got to meet, really meet, just once. It reminds me of how I met my biggest high school crush only in my final year in Zobel, and we weren’t really all that amicable.
===

That was one of my few regrets in college: not getting to meet you earlier. You were a genuinely interesting person, really. It just so happened you were so damn beautiful, too, and for a while there I couldn’t look beyond physical beauty. For a while, too, I had this thing about trying to project that I didn’t find you all that cute...which was all bullshit, really.

How I wish you and I were able to talk, more often. Having you as my friend would have been perfectly fine with me.

These days as I look in my yearbook, I look at the directory and see your address and contact details. It’s a familiar enough place in Alabang; after all I used to study there. Recently I get the fanciful impulse of visiting you, but what for? I guess it’s to make up for the times I wanted you and I to talk. I can’t force that on you though; after all that’s said and done I’m still basically a stranger.

If by some twist of fate we meet again in the future, I’ll make sure I make the most of the time I have with you. Partly to demystify you, partly to get to know you better.
===

Perhaps I’ve actually grown up.

Not at maximum-attack mode...

Tara invited us blockmates to dinner at the Pearl Plaza bowling lanes—apparently where the recent Southeast Asian Games’ bowling matches were held, judging from the streamers and banners still posted there. It turns out it was her birthday; it’s unfortunately a trait of mine to forget birthdays especially as I don’t get to see Tara all that often.

Over shabu-shabu and huge plates of salad, the old gang, separated by diverging degree programs, got together once again and it was an overall happy event. After so many failed plans of having a block outing, Roman was inviting us to this beach resort in San Narciso, Zambales on the first weekend of January. Now that we aren’t that busy with thesis and other shit, they were “desperate” to pull this plan off. It’ll be fun. I hope I can come along—and I’ll probably be one of those doing the driving.

Mao and Zeri finally got to defend their Comm Arts thesis film last Wednesday; judging from the comments it seems they did all right. I just wish I could have been there to watch it. Zeri’s made it into the semifinals for the Artic Vodka image model search; the finals are on tomorrow.

The gang was particularly looking forward to course card distribution—for many of us, the last ever course card we’ll be getting—on December 20. Plans were already in the air for a drinking spree right after. Hmmmm. Interesting.

It was nice seeing them all again. As I told Kwapaw on YM, generally speaking, I treasure my college blockmates more than I do my high school Honors Section friends. Despite the friends I have there, at this point in time, I’d really rather forget that clique-ridden chapter in my life existed.

My blockmates and I were already talking about the future after we graduate—planning out reunions, being bridesmaids at each others’ weddings, and godparents of each others’ kids—and one of the reasons why I’m not so keen on graduating is I’ll miss these wonderful people too much. We literally grew up with each other, even in the relatively short span of five years.

I’m going to make sure we keep constant contact with each other even after graduation. The LC24ID101 e-group I made was the first step.
===

Now that I’m not so busy it’s about time I have my car’s aircon system repaired. I had estimates done today and it’s not cheap by any means. Huhuhu.

My Honda’s coming apart at the seams. Pretty soon it’ll need suspension work, not to mention the dents I’ve been carrying around for a year or two from all the fellows that wanted to swap paint with me.

Maybe I should put Gunpla on hold for now. Huhuhuhuhuhu!
===

For once, I actually got tired of pushing my Honda and myself to the limits of my car-control abilities. This morning, as I was on the expressway going to Bicutan, I shackled myself to the 80 km/h “suggested speed limit”—and it felt rather odd.

It’s been a couple of years since I adopted a take-no-prisoners driving style, with throttle-blipping, occasional heel-and-toe, decisive overtaking and the most recent development, cadence braking (basically anti-lock braking done manually). As I was lumbering along at 80-85 km/h, windows down, with jazz music belting from my speakers, I suddenly felt rather peaceful.

It was a short-lived peace, but it’s nice knowing that I can throttle back on myself whenever I want to. I might as well grab all the moments I don’t have to be at 9/10ths; when I get a job I’ll probably have to be at 10/10ths all the time, the life sucked out of me by the time I get home.

Long live the Mazda RX-8

I was at Megamall this afternoon and I ended up playing a good many games of Initial D ver.3. Here the games are literally half the price of Glorietta 4’s machines—a pleasant surprise.

Using my RX-8 almost exclusively, I finally finished Tsuchizaka (even with mystery challengers Keisuke and Takumi) and all the courses. That Takumi actually used the “blind attack” trick on me here, on the high-speed roller-coaster section after the tunnel. Imagine my glee when he slid on the oil slick in one of the pivotal high-speed hairpins—where I ultimately passed him.

As it turns out, I had the ability to conquer Tsuchizaka all along; I was just using the wrong car. Whatever I did, my S14Q would never have enough top-gear oomph to clamber up the tunnel and give chase down the following inbound road, plain and simple.

The final “Extra” race on Akina was ridiculously tough though. It’s a face-off against Bunta in his WRX-STi Type R. It’ll take me a lot of time and practice to take him on someday.

Coming from my underpowered but giant-killing S14 Nissan Silvia Q’s, I simply love my Mazda RX-8. It may be unrealistic, but in the game, at least, it has an enormous appetite for revs and actually has a lot of shove at the engine speeds the races call for (despite having no turbo at all). It’s a tad understeery for an FR, but it rewards experienced players with phenomenal throttle response and good brakes.

Do I have to mention it's a pretty good-looking car too?


I’m going to make the Megamall arcades rather rich...and I’ll end up poor as a result. Hahaha.

Return of the geek?

It’s been a good while since I’ve picked up an issue of PC Magazine again. In my geekier days in high school I used to buy the US edition every chance I got because it was still relatively cheap. I used to salivate at the prospect of 200MHz Pentiums and blazing fast modems and expansion cards. Yes, I used to be a techie geek.

I’ve become pretty lax with following computer technology trends now, because of the sheer futility of doing so. In my experience with reading PC Magazine from 1995-1998, I’ve become exposed to just how ridiculously quickly technology becomes obsolete.

My computer has built-in graphics which don’t offer hardware 3D acceleration, and I was curious as to which AGP cards should I be getting. My 56K internal modem also sucks—it’s been stuck at 21.6K or lower for a couple years. Imagine my mild surprise when I asked a local computer store and found out a replacement internal modem could be mine for just PhP500, cash. I remember our old US Robotics 28.8K Sportster external modem costing PhP7,000 around ten years ago.

So out on a whim, I leafed through the magazine stand today and picked out the local edition of PC Magazine, which just so happened to feature a handful of 3D graphics cards on review.

I have my remarks. Most irritating of all is that many of the products they reviewed (yes, including the 3D graphics cards) didn’t have the price posted along with them. C’mon, that’s standard operating procedure with US PCMag.

Overall it’s pretty helpful, though a lot thinner than how its bimonthly US counterpart used to be.
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I’m glad I’m back to 95% of my usual energy. The doctor gave me a clean bill of health too. In the past two days I’ve even played a lot more Dance Maniax than I ever used to.

Now to finish my remaining hours with PETA...which aren’t all that many. Miss Queng was already telling me to forego my remaining hours as it’s pretty much the summer vacation already, but I promised to finish 200 and I intend to make good on it.

Got the Initial D fever

Back on my blog again. Spent the last three days at home, basically wasting away in my bed watching DVDs. “The Italian Job” was really cool, and so was “Shaolin Soccer.” Zhao Wei is really, really cute.

Nowadays I’m well enough to withstand using my computer without my meninges crying “Uncle!” although I still have the unsightly swelling on my cheek and lower jaw. Needless to say this means I won’t be singing at mass this weekend. I might still be contagious.
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After waiting for so damn long, I finally got the VCDs of Initial D Fourth Stage I ordered. These had episodes 15-20—pretty amazing. Keisuke’s yellow FD Mazda RX-7 is resurrected as a much meaner machine, and we finally see Project D clean up at Saitama as they move on to Ibaraki, where the team “Purple Shadow” waits for them. Purple Shadow’s entrants are a couple of middle-aged drivers nicknamed “God Foot” (for extraordinary throttle control) and “God Hand” (for extraordinary handling), driving an R34 Nissan Skyline GT-R V-spec II Nur and an AP1 Honda S2000 respectively.

Episode 20 left me wanting. I want to see how Keisuke’s widebody FD does against the R34...in full. Of course I’d love to see Takumi’s revoholic AE86 battle against the equally revoholic S2000, too.
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Episode 15 documented how Takumi won over the Evo VI TME-driving guy in Tsuchizaka; he won it via phenomenally late cadence braking. This is the only race I haven’t won in Initial D ver.3 using my S14 Nissan Silvia Q’s, and I wonder if the same tactic will work. I always seem to lose out in power and speed after climbing the tunnel area and I’ve run out of ideas on how to beat the guy.

I even got to see Ryosuke’s car, the good old FC Mazda RX-7, once again. I might as well get that as my next card.

Mumps, death and bullshit.

Just when I was keen on finishing my remaining hours for PETA already, along came this strange swelling and dull pain in my left jawbone area, in front of my left ear. When I felt it on Monday morning, I thought it was stiff neck from watching DVDs while lying on my side—but when did stiff neck involve local pain in the ear area? It also felt like I had been punched in the jaw, but I certainly don’t remember getting into any fights either.

I had a suspicion it was mumps, and a doctor’s checkup confirmed it. Funny how I’m getting this now when I remember having been vaccinated against it when I was in seventh grade. Oh well. I’m living proof that no vaccine is 100% effective, and let’s just say I don’t want my pictures taken anytime soon.

Because of doctor’s orders I’m sidelined for a week. From researching online, mumps is a lot like chickenpox— once you get it, there’s not much you can do to treat it except wait for it to go away, and immunity will be permanent after one round. Unfortunately, I got chickenpox when I was in second grade, so there wasn’t much risk of complications then. Mumps in adults can metamorphose into a number of things—meningitis, encephalitis, even orchitis (that’s literally a pain in the balls for you) which may leave me infertile. These cases are rare, but there’s still a possibility I’ll get any combination of ‘em. Sigh.

While I was eating lunch—a hearty helping of chicken afritada—I felt a LOT of pain in my left jaw. My swollen left parotid salivary glands hurt each time I opened my mouth for each spoonful. Crap. Now I’m restricted to soft foods, and even my breakfast muesli is getting close to doling out pain too. I’m not too keen on eating instant noodles and pancit canton either as they foul up my stomach. I’m eating my mom’s goto as I’m typing this—quite reluctantly.

I certainly hope it’ll go away next week and leave me without any complications. I certainly hope I don’t die of mumps—read somewhere that mumps mortality cases happen past 19 years of age.

Which makes me a prime target.
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There are worse things that could happen to me, you know.

Isa’s mom had lost her long battle with breast cancer, and my thesismates and I heard the news just last Sunday. We had been planning on visiting the wake at San Antonio Church in Forbes Park South on Friday, but I can’t come lest I spread the mumps virus to unsuspecting, unvaccinated mourners.

An aunt of Geraldine’s and Denise’s is in critical condition too. It’s pretty sad how these things are happening...
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Before I went for the doctor’s checkup yesterday, I dropped by DLSU to claim my long-overdue yearbook. It certainly was heavy—it felt like I was lifting 10 or 15 lbs.—as it was a three-volume one.

I’ll be cynical here. I was perusing the yearbook and I noticed something. With all the write-ups next to each picture (including mine), the yearbook seems like a collection of carefully manipulated pieces of bullshit. I see God-knows-how-many writeups saying that the person in the picture is one in a million or unique or multi-talented. This quote came to mind: “Just remember that you are unique...just like everybody else.”

Well, I suppose it’s bullshit we’re all entitled to as college graduates, so I’m not really complaining. If it’s the only way we can leave an imprint on our alma mater, then fine. I just wonder if all the writeups we’ve carefully put into our yearbooks will still matter or be relevant given some years down the line.

Movies...finally!

It’s been ages since I’ve seen any movies, so I borrowed some of Tantan’s DVDs. So far “Shaolin Soccer” was the most enjoyable of the lot, and I’ve got two more to watch.

All these movies I borrowed were relatively old. Goodness. I feel so out-of-date, out of touch with more recent movie offerings.

All I feel now is major relief. We have successfully defended our thesis.

Our panel seemed generally happy with what we did, especially Gay and Jette who acted as company representatives in Miss Queng's absence. We did take a hit from our statistics though. Looking back, we really should have consulted a statistician before we went into the survey proper and data analysis, but it happened at the defense anyway. I guess being LIA-COM students, our grasp of statistics for business wasn't sufficient due to the classes we took. But that's water under the bridge now.

Still, even with flawed data analysis we managed to bag an 87---good for a 2.5. Not bad at all. While I understand Doc Nards may have been a little disappointed in our failure to be nominated for best thesis, he was genuinely happy we sailed through the defense fine. All we need to do is revise our thesis using proper computation and resubmit on Friday.

Rachel, Tantan and I are finally going to graduate. Leia still has a term of 12 units left, but that shouldn't be any hardship.
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Finally mustered the guts to join our parish's youth choir. I stuck around after attending the 9:30am mass and asked. Turns out they needed more guys so they were glad to have me on board.

First "performance" is this coming Saturday at 6pm, then rehearsal after. I'm quite happy.
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MG Zeta Gundam ver.2.0 is coming after Christmas Day...and it's an estimated PhP3,300 (SRP: JPY 5,250).

I want one.

You flirt. You seduce. You ditch your long-time boyfriend and you pick up another one in the span of one and a half months, seemingly without any remorse or effort at all.

How the hell do you do it?

I wonder how sure you are that you like this new guy who's succumbed to your affections. The whole thing stinks of a relationship on the rebound, entered into by people who don't know what they truly want.

As your friend, I just wish you fully knew and understood what you wanted, instead of letting your sex drive do the thinking for you. You and your unwitting "victims" don't deserve that.

I lead a bittersweet existence, where happiness is never total, always tempered.

I still long for the day when I can be stupidly happy. It ain't coming anytime soon. That's the only thing I know for sure.

The feeling of mutual attraction is just about the greatest emotion I've ever experienced, and it means the world to me.

Although I can't be with you the way I wanted to, I'm still glad that a couple of months on, you and I are as open with each other as we are. With you I can be myself, unedited. With me, I assure you, you can bare your soul and not be ashamed of all the skeletons you have in your closet. You said it yourself: I am a younger male version of you, and for that I feel lucky.

We can be as naked as we want to, with all the scars and wounds shown, safe and confident that we wouldn't poke at or laugh at each other where it hurts. We can be each other's sanctuary from all the weirdos and idiots on the Internet and in real life.

Despite all the heartbreak and all the bullshit life will no doubt unfairly dole out at us, we'll weather it through and remain, still having our special bond.

I love you. Belated happy birthday, my dear.

"Oh great god of music, take away this indignation that lies in front of me."
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I wish I could be genuinely, truly, madly, stupidly happy, preferably because I'm so in love with a person I can't act otherwise. Trouble is, this world seems to allow people to be happy only in small doses. Notice how we laugh so shortly, how we smile so briefly. Happiness is so fleeting, sadness seems all-pervading.

Geraldine did quote someone as saying "life is just a collection of moments." What do we do with everything else that happens in between, then? What a colossal waste.

By that same token she also told me of the dangers of letting myself get exposed like this in my blog. Owning a blog and documenting everything in it is akin to being wounded and standing naked in the middle of a street. You're left vulnerable to all sorts of weirdos who'd know precisely where to hit you so it hurts. Those who aren't weirdos and are too chicken to pick on you are free to laugh at you instead.

With this blog I wanted someone to come along who'd listen to and understand me totally, and accept me for all my faults, not simply for what I can do as if I were some sort of tool. I think I've waited far too long, and maybe it's time to admit that it simply ain't coming. I'm pretty scared I've done myself irreparable damage in the process, subjecting myself to weirdos like this. People have plagiarized entire sections of my blog already.

I still so want to believe I can be truly, genuinely, deeply, stupidly happy. And I still want to believe it won't take me my death to get there. I'm sick of feeling either a toxic cocktail of negative emotions or being practically manic-depressive.
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Where am I on earth if you are not there?
Though my body has broken down
Though my heart dies, you are my rock
My God, the future that waits for me

Far away from you, life is not life
To break faith with you is to be no one

With you, I am always with you
You hold me tight, your hand in mine
You bring all things to a good end
You lead me on in your good pleasure
What is heaven to me without you?

- Hangad, "Psalm 73"

Our thesis has finally been put to bed. This means Tantan, Rachel and Leia can go to bed now as well.

We got our endorsement letters from Doc Nards tonight. All we need to do is photocopy the appendices, print out 2 more copies of the thesis, have one ring-bound and submitted to our boss Ms. Queng Reyles tomorrow. We'll submit the two other copies for the Marketing Department by lunch time, Tuesday.

We never thought it possible that we could finish our 99-page thesis this early. We were one of the very last groups to begin OJT and we were particularly indecisive about what we wanted to write as thesis, but look at us now.

All that stands in the way of graduating is thesis defense on December 3...and God, we worked hard and throughly enough not to hear the word "REDEFEND" from our panelists. We leave it up to you now.
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I'm not one to count chickens before they hatch, but talking about graduation at this point is inevitable. I told Rachel I actually feared graduating, because while you're in school, you at least have something definite to look forward to, such as high school and college. But after college it'll be all up in the air, especially since a college degree just isn't a good enough guarantee to get employed these days. Sad but true.

For now, perhaps it's best to stop worrying about tomorrow. All Rachel and I have in our heads is that we've finally finished thesis. Rachel was especially fulfilled as she finished TWO theses in the span of 6 months---they successfully defended their feature film just last term. Enough reason for celebration to me.
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Rachel Quinto, Leia Medina, and Tristan Ramirez: Though I wasn't always able to show it, let me tell you right now that I love you guys from the bottom of my heart. I can't imagine doing a Marketing thesis and OJT at PETA with anybody else.

Mula ngayon kayo'y aking kaibigan
Hinango sa dilim at kababaan
Ang kaibiga'y mag-aalay ng sarili niyang buhay
Walang hihigit sa yaring pag-aalay...

- Hangad, "Pagkakaibigan"

I'm quite happy these days because we're actually finishing our thesis. As it stands we actually stand to exceed the 100-page limit and we're missing just one chapter, with the other four chapters needing just some polishing.

I really hope our defense goes well on December 3. Doc Nards will surely help us when we meet him tomorrow for revisions.
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I just don't like how confused I've gotten recently. I'm at that all-too-familiar point where I don't know what exactly I want, but I feel hollow, like I'm missing something.

Do I want a relationship? Do I want to move out of my house? Do I want to get work that makes me financially stable ASAP or do I want to do what I really want to do for a living? I wish I could be truly, madly, stupidly happy---but the world just won't allow me that luxury anymore.

All I know now is that I want to sing, and I want to buy the CDs of Jesuit music groups Hangad and Bukas Palad. And yes, I want to finish thesis and get on with my life.
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I absolutely love this song.


[I think I'll follow...
Follow...
In the greater scheme of...oooh...]

Tired of weaving dreams too loose for me to wear
Tired of watching clouds repeat their dance on air
Tired of getting tied to doing what’s required
Is life a mere routine in the greater scheme of things?

Through with taking roads someone else designed
Through with chasing stars that soon forget to shine
Through with going through one more day – what’s new?
Does my life still mean a thing in the greater scheme of things?

I think I’ll follow the voice that calls within
Dance to the silent song it sings
I hope to find my place, so my life will fall in place
I know in time I’ll find my place
In the greater scheme of things...

Each must go his way, but how can I decide?
Which path I should take; who will be my guide?
I need some kind of star to lead me somewhere far.
To find a higher dream in the greater scheme of things.

The road before me bends; I don’t know what I’ll find
Will I meet a friend or ghosts I left behind?
Should I even be surprised that you’re with me in disguise
For it’s your hand I have seen
In the greater scheme of things

I think I’ll follow the voice that calls within
Dance to the silent song it sings
I hope to find my place so my life will fall in place
I know in time I’ll find my place...

For yours is the voice in my deepest dreams
You are the heart, the very heart of the greater scheme of things...

So here I’ll follow the voice that calls within
Dance to the silent song it sings
I hope to find my place, so my life will fall in place
I know in time I’ll find my place...

Why don’t we follow the voice that calls within
Dance to the silent song it sings
One day we’ll find our place
For all things fall in place
For all things have a place
in the greater scheme of things...

- Hangad, "Pilgrim's Theme"

I know I'm supposed to be doing my review of related literature for thesis right about now, but I just can't let this pass by. Besides I feel I've gone for too long without blogging.

I've never been that spiritual, and I usually scorn people who spend their days praying and praying and never doing anything else. But I have such a weakness for religious music. Whenever I hear the power of a well-sung chorus of Filipinos belting out a Filipino religious hymn, I feel it's the closest I'll ever get to God. Tears well up in my eyes and my chest aches with an inexplicable sensation of simultaneous lightness and heaviness.

My recent nights at Tantan's house with Leia and Rachel have brought out a hobby that I've wanted to do for so long. It's just that I've always denied it for some reason or other.

I want to sing. I want to join a choir and have my voice meld with the voices of angels on earth. I haven't done much in homage of God, but I feel singing would be the best thing I could do.

I realize I've always had a great voice. It's just that I never really appreciated it before others did. Now they're egging me on to sing. Maybe I'll do just that.

Any further pursuits in fulfillment of my being a frustrated performer can wait. Singing seems to be what I was born to do.

I was at the Polytechnic University of the Philippines today for my part of the survey for our thesis. Being conservative, I decided to scope out a little eatery outside the school grounds. At this time, I didn't know that PUP had a smattering of buildings around the Sta. Mesa area, and I had landed first in the Engineering and Architecture campus along Pureza St. (the nearer campus to the Pureza LRT-2 station).

After a nondescript lunch break and initial survey at the Engineering building, I went off to the main campus at A. Mabini, located a bit further down the road. This time I decided to be more adventurous. I entered the campus gates and wandered about.

In a lot of ways PUP-Main reminded me of my visit to Philippine Normal University back when I was in fifth grade. Although DLSU obviously has better facilities (it's where the high tuition goes to), there's sort of a homey atmosphere to the Mabini campus that's also alive with activity. There a Lasallian can see a few indulgences other college students have that aren't allowed in DLSU: wearing slippers, no particular dress code (or one that's a lot more lax) and smoking in the campus grounds. They were even watching TV noontime shows inside the cafeteria. PUP is also one of the few places left where you can get a full meal for PhP30. I found it all pretty interesting.

The students I surveyed are a relatively happy bunch too. The 90 or so surveyees were generally willing to answer our 3-page questionnaire. Some of them had asked where I was from and what the survey was for. When I told them I was from DLSU and it was for my thesis, they wished me good luck. One of them, a fellow Marketing major, even sat me down and talked about the most recent Strategic Marketing Conference of the Philippine Marketing Association that I didn't get to join (I was at the 2004 event).

It was a nice visit, and I enjoyed getting myself lost in the campus and taking pictures on my "new" Nokia 6600 cellphone (a hand-me-down from my mom).

PUP is OK.

After meeting with Doc Nards and being told our stuff was still rather sketchy, I stayed over at Tantan's place this time to work on thesis, again. The survey has to be done this week.

We battered and questioned every single question and hypothesis until our heads couldn't take it anymore (or 4:30 am for mere mortals). The upshot was that we finally refined our questionnaire to accept all the recommendations thrown at us. The bad thing is I'm now rather sick of thinking of anything thesis-related, though I'm sure I have to refine Chapters 1 and 2 further.

November 25 is D-Day. Crap. Couldn't we have had thesis on some other term? Being on-time actually meant having it on the shortest term of the year, with the most vacations.
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I'm feeling a fair number of things nowadays, but "good" isn't one of them.

At least I know Leia gives a great massage. I hope I returned the favor well.
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It takes guts to live as honestly as one can. That I realize now after Geraldine sent me a concerned message over Friendster about how I blog.

I've heard people tell me I'm different because of how true I am to myself, that I'm "refreshing" because I don't make any pretentions. The flip side is I'm easier to hurt because I'm so damn open, hence predictable.

Still, I don't know any other way to live. I will keep waiting (not in vain I hope) that a special someone will come along and accept me for everything I am, warts and all.

At least it's comforting to know there are people I've met that come really close to that ideal.

Geraldine and my friends have already egged me on, encouraging me to figure out just how exactly I feel about you. Yet you seem to be stuck in the ghosts of the past.

As much as I admire you for your inner beauty and am smitten by how your outer beauty has grown on me, I feel I have no choice but to abandon you.

Yet you...you confuse me. I'm not sure if I should keep playing your game or drop out of it altogether.

HCP is no longer what it used to be.

I really don't like what I'm seeing on the forums. What happened to people who make sensible posts? All the newbies and adiks want these days is to get their post count up to Level Meow (10,000), and they're willing to ignore the forum rules just for this stupid, meaningless achievement.

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Speaking of Meow, I found out that my friend Angiela's having her first ever bout of bulimia. Apparently this came from a recent breakup from a guy which just had to come from HCP, her stress-buster. Poor girl.
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Since Friday was a holiday due to Eid-al-Fit'r (the end of the Islamic Ramadan month), I decided to invite my thesismates over to my house to work on Chapters 1 and 3 of our thesis. After all, Leia had already invited us over to her house.

It was a surprisingly productive day. Although we weren't all that efficient, we managed to send Doc Nards our draft by 7 pm. Like my other blockmates, my visitors told me my house could pass for a vacation house location in Baguio or Tagaytay because of all the wood. For food we went to Yellow Cab for a couple of calzones and boxes of pasta---decadent but very filling.

I'm just glad they enjoyed their stay.
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After months of not touching a machine, I got behind the wheel of Initial D v.3 again yesterday, using nothing else but my latest car, a dark green Mazda RX-8 with black wheels. It looks so dark and menacing. Not exactly what I wanted, but it's good all the same.

The RX-8 has a lot in common with my old Honda S2000. It's a 6-speeder FR with poor torque down low, but revs to a stratospheric 9500 RPM to unleash its 250 HP, so it needs to be driven a bit differently than more usual cars such as my S14 Silvia Q's. Interesting how none of my cars so far are turbocharged...

In the span of time I was there I conquered Akina Snow, beat Shingo on Myogi (okay, that's very easy), Daiki on Happogahara and Kyoko on Tsuchizaka. Akina Snow took me 4 tries to finish, but that taught me to use less steering lock for the turns and be gentler on the gas.

Looks like I've still got the skills...
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Some stranger got into the Initial D v.3 machine and used a stock Honda S2000 to make mincemeat out of all his opponents. His driving looked rough, but it was undeniably FAST. Maybe there's hope for my fully-modified S2000 after all.

Chris Longhurst, author of the famous Car Bibles website, had this to say about the design idiosyncrasies of modern cars. So many of the features put into new cars are pointless and actually make us more unsafe drivers.

It's a long read, but petrolheads will appreciate this.

On 'Nanny Cars' and Bad Vehicle Design

PETA had its first-ever Mekong Performing Arts Laboratory showcase program this year, and the culminating event was on tonight at the Theater Center. The participants of the project, coming from the Mekong River sub-region of Indochina (Lao PDR, Yunnan province in China, Thailand, Vietnam and Cambodia), each had mini-plays and performances dabbling with dance, acting and alternative methods such as puppetry and shadow manipulation.

All 8 or so performances were unique and had their own merits---in short they were all very good! Whether it was the violently dancing Thais, the Lao puppeteers, the kicking, juggling and contorting Cambodians or the unusual acting and storytelling of the Vietnamese, the whole show was a joy to watch for something so minimalist and done at a tight deadline.

Met my new Japanese friend Chisato there once again, after the theater management stint for "Ang Palasyo ni Valentin." She's been here and with PETA for 8 months for theater workshops which according to her are pretty hard to find in her native Shizuoka, and she's taking the plane home on November 8th. She'll drop by the office just before then to say farewell.

I wanted to congratulate the actors (especially the Cambodians and Vietnamese) for a supremely funny and entertaining show, but I was afraid they wouldn't understand English and they might take offense at my good-natured actions. Cocktails were served after the show.

It dawned on me that although we're the most beleaguered group when it comes to finishing our OJT hours, I have no doubt we're having the most fun. We get to laugh, play games, watch theater shows and fool around with our officemates as our job---what's not to like?

I've been feeling rather bummed lately about how OJT and thesis would pan out. The past couple of weeks we didn't seem to be heading anywhere, especially as theater isn't exactly the usual stuff of a marketing paper.

Our spirits have started to perk up though. We've decided to do a marketing research paper on the perceptions of college students regarding plays and theatrical productions. That'll mean delving into the theories, research and other stuff of MARKCU1 (consumer behavior) all over again---and we don't really mind doing that.

Our mentor, Dr. Leonardo Garcia (or Doc Nards as we fondly call him), has been energetic in his support after the admitted waste of two weeks regarding our thesis. I keep wondering where he's been all this time; we've never had him as professor but he seems the most amiable of the entire "feeling cool" bunch. He even had a "strategy" to help us bag the best thesis award this term. Strategy or not, I'm really glad we're having him as our mentor.

The marketing work for PETA has been rather nondescript as of the moment, but we're not complaining. We've gotten along with the rest of the Marketing and Public Relations staff and we're doing our jobs smoothly, despite the occasional bouts of boredom and games of Luxor and Zuma. Time seems to fly by at PETA, although being one of the last groups to start OJT, we've got to hustle to finish our 200 hours.

Right now I just feel happy. It's going to be tough, but my groupmates and I will pull it off.

Good news: My head cold's slowly starting to heal.

More good news: I managed my best fuel economy in years---and all it took was an everyday trip from Bicutan to Cubao. On Petron's Xtra Unleaded fuel, and even with my hard-charging driving style, I capped 11.75 km/L.

It's a huge leap from the 9 km/L I average on the way to school and back home. I credit light weight, constant high speed and long trip distance for my achievement.

Just imagine how many more kilometers I'd have put in the tank if I were easier on the gas.