A couple of Saturdays ago, I was looking for a new pair of earphones, since mine was on the verge of conking out even if it seems fairly new. That meant I was virtually listening to the radio again - or, it will seem at least, I was forced to. It's actually amazing thinking how many will actually ask the supposedly friendly DJs for advice, like this one, for instance, whose story blared out of the loudspeakers of that second-floor store.
"Alam kong gasgas na 'tong tanong ko, pero pa'no po ba makaka-move on sa isang tao?"
At least she knew it's a damn clichéd question. She's this young girl who was involved in an affair with a married man. In true daytime soap fashion, the "legal wife" finds out and starts a confrontation. In true masa station fashion, we hear laughter tracks instead.
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8/31/2008
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8/30/2008
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On the basis of having your ego stroked, I shouldn't be complaining. It's another blogging renaissance! I used to think I churned out my best blog entries in May every year, but for some reason I feel good about everything I've been writing lately. Sure, consider the work load, the wonky Internet access, the aimless stories and the mushy brain caused by writing nineteen profiles every day. But I guess I've been pushing the envelope myself lately, even if I've been writing about the same things almost consistently, and the readers seem to like what they're reading, too.
I remember that time during summer vacation when Dexter moved blogs, and I found myself somewhat colliding with Adette, who was posting comments on Shale Campaigns previously, and Raine. After a customary blog entry where we ended up chatting, I ended up getting comments from two or three of them on one blog entry, and perhaps with Lizette in tow, too.
Being someone with too much time on my hands to observe, I'm no longer surprised at this so-called surge. It happens, especially when one just found my site and ends up replying on the next few entries before suddenly disappearing. At least people find the time to read through my convoluted thought bubbles... or do they?
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I remember that time during summer vacation when Dexter moved blogs, and I found myself somewhat colliding with Adette, who was posting comments on Shale Campaigns previously, and Raine. After a customary blog entry where we ended up chatting, I ended up getting comments from two or three of them on one blog entry, and perhaps with Lizette in tow, too.
Being someone with too much time on my hands to observe, I'm no longer surprised at this so-called surge. It happens, especially when one just found my site and ends up replying on the next few entries before suddenly disappearing. At least people find the time to read through my convoluted thought bubbles... or do they?
Read more »
8/27/2008
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Another benefit of having lunch alone - although it's all because I still can't muster the courage to invite Neobie for lunch - is me actually getting to watch what I eat. And if the past nine weeks are any indication, my performance has been bleak.
So it's no surprise that I was very excited over dinner before I went to the iPhone 3G launch last Thursday. I had it all planned out from the bus: I'll go to the food court at SM Makati and choose something with vegetables. I ended up buying this value meal with three viands and rice. It's a good deal, considering I got it for P88, while the McDonald's meal costs around P120. And, most importantly, it has chop suey.
Only when I sat on the table did I tell my parents that I have arrived in Makati. "In Makati na," I somehow ceremoniously said. "Eating at SM food court. Gulay sa wakas!"
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So it's no surprise that I was very excited over dinner before I went to the iPhone 3G launch last Thursday. I had it all planned out from the bus: I'll go to the food court at SM Makati and choose something with vegetables. I ended up buying this value meal with three viands and rice. It's a good deal, considering I got it for P88, while the McDonald's meal costs around P120. And, most importantly, it has chop suey.
Only when I sat on the table did I tell my parents that I have arrived in Makati. "In Makati na," I somehow ceremoniously said. "Eating at SM food court. Gulay sa wakas!"
Read more »
8/26/2008
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I still have a pair of headphones on, but I can't help but wonder if a new perspective actually changes the way we perceive things. It definitely isn't the headphones.
I knew it was going to rain, but not this fast, and not that strong. I guess the angels who supposedly cry whenever it rains have had a lot to drink about. Two hours ago, the skies were pretty static, although it was veering towards overcast. An hour ago, it was pitch black, with the darkness only broken by lightning. The window in front of me ceased to have a view. We haven't had power interruptions yet, although the air conditioner's been whining since I went here.
And, on my part at least, the thunder's on surround sound.
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I knew it was going to rain, but not this fast, and not that strong. I guess the angels who supposedly cry whenever it rains have had a lot to drink about. Two hours ago, the skies were pretty static, although it was veering towards overcast. An hour ago, it was pitch black, with the darkness only broken by lightning. The window in front of me ceased to have a view. We haven't had power interruptions yet, although the air conditioner's been whining since I went here.
And, on my part at least, the thunder's on surround sound.
Read more »
8/24/2008
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She seemed to be very nice from the get-go. Well, my hardened cynicism sometimes prefers to think that she's being nice because she wants something, because that's always the case, but otherwise it's quite a different feeling. It's the first night we've met, and already we've been talking about our work, our supposed futures and our conflicting opinions about celebrity. Deep inside, I'm actually happy we're talking; simply put, something clicked. My hardened cynicism, however, knows that this will perhaps be the last time we'll ever talk, so I just left it at that. Perhaps we'll meet again soon.
"See you around, then," she said as we shook hands.
"I hope we could," I answered, and left the noisy, crowded venue, actually paying serious attention to what I just said. But I never bothered turning my back and waving goodbye for one last time. It was a crowded venue, after all. I probably wouldn't see her in the crowd.
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"See you around, then," she said as we shook hands.
"I hope we could," I answered, and left the noisy, crowded venue, actually paying serious attention to what I just said. But I never bothered turning my back and waving goodbye for one last time. It was a crowded venue, after all. I probably wouldn't see her in the crowd.
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8/22/2008
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I just feel like telling a story, really. I heard this one a long time ago, back when we thought bowlers bring thunder rather than electric complications, or storks bring babies rather than sex. I never really heard this story again, either, but out of the blue I remembered it when I was munching on ampalaya con carne.
Yep, it's the legend of the bitter gourd.
Forgive me if I miss a few details, but I think I got this right. The story involves this certain vegetable that looks so plain. Color, zilch. Taste, zilch still. It never got chosen among the many vegetables in the market because, well, it doesn't really provide anything to the dish. It's just lumps of heaven-knows-what.
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Yep, it's the legend of the bitter gourd.
Forgive me if I miss a few details, but I think I got this right. The story involves this certain vegetable that looks so plain. Color, zilch. Taste, zilch still. It never got chosen among the many vegetables in the market because, well, it doesn't really provide anything to the dish. It's just lumps of heaven-knows-what.
Read more »
8/19/2008
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It's another common playground scene, really. Two kids argue about something. One gets exasperated and hits another. The other cries in pain, holding the back of his head and starts making a scene.
"Teacher, teacher, siya po!" he goes, one hand accusing the antagonist.
The teacher comes to the two boys, already circled by those who either wished for a fight or just wanted to know what happened. She demands answers.
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"Teacher, teacher, siya po!" he goes, one hand accusing the antagonist.
The teacher comes to the two boys, already circled by those who either wished for a fight or just wanted to know what happened. She demands answers.
Read more »
8/16/2008
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"I always had this warped sense of time since graduation," I told Les.
"It's going faster than you can think or count," she replied.
"I know," I admitted. "I know I've been working for seven weeks now, but... I don't know."
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"It's going faster than you can think or count," she replied.
"I know," I admitted. "I know I've been working for seven weeks now, but... I don't know."
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8/14/2008
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The car was turning to Reliance when I got a text message.
"Hi Henrik," the message said. It was from Kris. "Can you text me your Yahoo! ID, and Neobie's YM ID as well? Thanks."
So I answered the text message. I gave mine, and promised Neobie's when I get to the office, as I haven't bothered memorizing it yet. It's a given, I thought. Neobie and I are newbies. Well, one of us is less of a newbie than the other.
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"Hi Henrik," the message said. It was from Kris. "Can you text me your Yahoo! ID, and Neobie's YM ID as well? Thanks."
So I answered the text message. I gave mine, and promised Neobie's when I get to the office, as I haven't bothered memorizing it yet. It's a given, I thought. Neobie and I are newbies. Well, one of us is less of a newbie than the other.
Read more »
8/13/2008
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During my sophomore year in high school, we had this particularly memorable last activity for our retreat. But, of course, it's the cheesy one - everybody tapes a piece of cartolina on their backs, and everybody goes around writing something they like about the person in question. You can imagine a bunch of hyperactive boys giggling when one feels the pen on their backs. Inevitably, I was anxious about what they'd say - hey, I was more insecure then.
That pink cartolina is still with me, hidden with my cramped collection of foreign newspapers, and although I can't be bothered to go through all the dust and effort, I still have an idea about what it says. It was somewhat annoying - or at least that's how I remembered it, because I had this look that says "what the bleep?" when I finally got the chance to read their comments. I thought, and still think, that most of the people during that retreat didn't think their comments through.
Thus, only one comment stuck in my mind: Robyn's. It was her first year in Anima, and already we've somewhat found an affinity with each other, partly because we're the (errr) academic frontrunners of the class, and we somewhat eased each other's burdens. At least she was someone who I can trust with a serious comment. Indeed, it stood out in its uniform handwriting and its distinct thought process.
Read more »
That pink cartolina is still with me, hidden with my cramped collection of foreign newspapers, and although I can't be bothered to go through all the dust and effort, I still have an idea about what it says. It was somewhat annoying - or at least that's how I remembered it, because I had this look that says "what the bleep?" when I finally got the chance to read their comments. I thought, and still think, that most of the people during that retreat didn't think their comments through.
Thus, only one comment stuck in my mind: Robyn's. It was her first year in Anima, and already we've somewhat found an affinity with each other, partly because we're the (errr) academic frontrunners of the class, and we somewhat eased each other's burdens. At least she was someone who I can trust with a serious comment. Indeed, it stood out in its uniform handwriting and its distinct thought process.
Read more »
8/11/2008
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I was talking with Piyar again last night, and as always it's a conversation peppered with obscure food-related metaphors. This time it's something about lechong kawali and how it's crunch can mean death by cholesterol for some, until I eventually floated the idea of eating puto bumbong with her one weekend. Despite some awkward gaps, we were our usual crazy selves - until I decided to say something.
I never said it, though. I never really had the time, because the parents have announced our departure, and I resigned myself to leaving another thing unsaid. Not now, though.
I don't miss school.
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I never said it, though. I never really had the time, because the parents have announced our departure, and I resigned myself to leaving another thing unsaid. Not now, though.
I don't miss school.
Read more »
8/09/2008
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With a regular paycheck, a new employee inevitably has to discuss saving with his folks.
In my case, my mother started the entire thing again. The original plan - yes, we do plan these things - is that I'd give a thousand bucks off every paycheck to my mother, so she can keep it in my bank account. If that's the case, a year's worth of work should lead me to stash around P24,000 in my bank account.
"Kapag ganyan, marami ka nang pera pag-abot mo ng 40," she said.
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In my case, my mother started the entire thing again. The original plan - yes, we do plan these things - is that I'd give a thousand bucks off every paycheck to my mother, so she can keep it in my bank account. If that's the case, a year's worth of work should lead me to stash around P24,000 in my bank account.
"Kapag ganyan, marami ka nang pera pag-abot mo ng 40," she said.
Read more »
8/06/2008
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It's been three weeks, and I'm still struggling to figure out how exactly to write about this. It never really takes me this long to compose something in my head, but as time goes by, and inspirations change, my head spins as if it's on a constant wash cycle.
Three weeks ago, everything was a blank canvas. That's the easiest to influence; one small move and you'd put paint on it. If I wrote an entry at that time, it would've been very random, or worse, very messy. I used to be able to live with entries like that, but of course things don't work that way anymore. And besides, I had a reason to keep quiet. I didn't know the whole story, and it never pays if you write about something without knowing everything, unless you aim to just write about yourself. I learned that the hard way.
I was reading Kat's blog at one point, and something she said struck me. "I know backstabbing is really hurtful," she wrote. "But the thing is, everybody does it. In one form or another, consciously done or not, in the most innocent of contexts, everybody backstabs someone else." That's older than the initial time frame, but I read it again two weeks ago, and I was, again, struck.
Read more »
Three weeks ago, everything was a blank canvas. That's the easiest to influence; one small move and you'd put paint on it. If I wrote an entry at that time, it would've been very random, or worse, very messy. I used to be able to live with entries like that, but of course things don't work that way anymore. And besides, I had a reason to keep quiet. I didn't know the whole story, and it never pays if you write about something without knowing everything, unless you aim to just write about yourself. I learned that the hard way.
I was reading Kat's blog at one point, and something she said struck me. "I know backstabbing is really hurtful," she wrote. "But the thing is, everybody does it. In one form or another, consciously done or not, in the most innocent of contexts, everybody backstabs someone else." That's older than the initial time frame, but I read it again two weeks ago, and I was, again, struck.
Read more »
8/05/2008
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I was having lunch today at the Reyes Barbecue branch nearby. They finally have iced tea, perhaps after a couple of complaints, also the management themselves were complaining about the time it took the iced tea machine to come in. The menu had these signs pasted all over, talking about the option for customers to get an iced tea with their meal for an extra ten bucks. But, as with everything, there is a catch.
"Isang grilled hamburger, please," I told the presumable manager, because he's quite a looker.
"With iced tea, sir?" he replied.
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"Isang grilled hamburger, please," I told the presumable manager, because he's quite a looker.
"With iced tea, sir?" he replied.
Read more »
8/04/2008
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All vehicles were slow on the approach to the half-finished Alabang viaduct. Funnily enough, the flow of traffic (if that's the technically correct term) loosened up halfway through.
And lately, I feel disconnected from the world. Things like this have become mundane, rather than an indicator of something supposedly significant. It used to be that I knew of so many things happening around me, at some points even taking over the role of what's-happening-know-it-all, but now I barely even sensed the death of two local directors, a foreign one, a storm moving up the country, and whatever it is the world is crazy about now.
This afternoon, in fact, while I was merely waiting for my shift to end - I finished six news articles today, and almost botched the publishing - I found out that Keane is giving away their latest single today. When the band released Is It Any Wonder, I knew they were aiming for a slightly guitar-like sound, to the point that they apparently considered looking for a guitarist. This time, I only faintly got wind of their glam rock tendencies, and they're already done with it?
Read more »
And lately, I feel disconnected from the world. Things like this have become mundane, rather than an indicator of something supposedly significant. It used to be that I knew of so many things happening around me, at some points even taking over the role of what's-happening-know-it-all, but now I barely even sensed the death of two local directors, a foreign one, a storm moving up the country, and whatever it is the world is crazy about now.
This afternoon, in fact, while I was merely waiting for my shift to end - I finished six news articles today, and almost botched the publishing - I found out that Keane is giving away their latest single today. When the band released Is It Any Wonder, I knew they were aiming for a slightly guitar-like sound, to the point that they apparently considered looking for a guitarist. This time, I only faintly got wind of their glam rock tendencies, and they're already done with it?
Read more »
Niko Batallones writes The Upper Blog.
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