The September Roommate Project: 2005

In the background: Pipe Dream (Invisible Band Album), by Travis



Different types of personalities can emerge through the course of a year. When in a roommate housing situation, there are sacrifices to be made and there are benefits to be reaped - although some circumstances are such that you are uncertain which one outweighs the other. There was a 2004 version of this said project, which was not too much of success since our 3rd roommate is slated to move out. Reasons can be listed as to why Stacey and I just [momentary lapse as I try to conjure up an appropriate way to say this] did not jive with him, most of which emerged closer to the halfway point of the lease. I have confided with some friends about this and wanted to hear that it was not completely our fault, nor was completely his. Like in most situations, this phrase can also apply: "It just didn't work out."

There were new lessons learned in roommate dynamics. We had successes in the past with ex-roommies who ended being our friends well after - same reason perhaps why we thought that luck will just carry on through.

We published this Craigslist posting that gathered a good amount of responses. A variety of them, in terms of where they are moving from - common string among most of the candidates:
1. Professionals
2. Moving to Cambridge because of teaching job, grad studies, or project collaboration with Harvard.
3. late 20's
4. "Easy-going" and "Pays bills on time."

These upcoming weekends are going to be a blur with appointments - although Stacey and I have decided, with our coordinated schedules, we're leaving Saturday night out of the appointment cycle. We're not quite ready to give up our summer weekends (the few left) completely. Regarding our visitors on schedule for early-Friday night, I brought this suggestion out to the table: Why not have the three of them get the tour, and if they are interested - maybe have them hang out for a few, get some apps and few drinks to serve perhaps, and get to know more about them while talking apartment details...

Then I scratched the idea (with still a hint of possibility?)... because it was just too Reality TV.

What we told the prospective roommates was that we are not in a hurry to fill the place, as much as we are intending to be really careful about selecting a good fit. Not that we're asking for much, just someone who can be considerate, fun yet respectful of our time and space, share with the upkeep... (and would pick up the entire rent every now and again out of the kindess of his/her own heart. Willingness to provide weekly groceries a plus but not required.)


Glimmer of Hope..... Do'h!

It has been a while since since I got updated with updates from Manila. What for - I have a low threshold for pain, I discovered. I caught this headline as I was going through world news bits today:

Peso Continues to Gain in Strength

Mercy! Could it be? Holy Batman, maybe there is a chance.... then I won't have to go on ranting sessions and cut down on worrying about the parental units! With clammy hands and anticipation like no other, I clicked on the link.

http://currencynews.co.uk/index.php/2005/07/21/peso_continues_to_rise_in_strength

... only to be shut down. (Sigh) Viva la Mexico.

Fog over 'Frisco

In the background: Caring is Creepy (Oh, Inverted World Album), by The Shins



I recently finished reading Middlesex, a brave and commendable novel by Jeffrey Eugenides - author previously made famous by his pilot novel adapted for the big screen, The Virgin Suicides. While there are numerous reviews for the aforementioned book in most corners of print materials and indexed pages online - mostly raves, to which I nod my head in accordance - there were certain sections that struck me as poignant correlations to my (already skewed) perspective.

Towards the last few chapters, Eugenides' protagonist, Cal Stephanides speaks of San Francisco in such detail that I stop for a second and remember having seen that fog over one of my favorite cities for the first time:

"Every morning, a great wall of fog descents upon the city of San Francisco. It begins far out at sea. It forms over the Farrallons, covering the sea lions on their rocks, and then it sweeps onto Ocean Beach, filling the long green bowl of Golden Gate Park. The fog obscures the early morning joggers and the lone practitioners of tai chi. It mists up the windows of the Glass Pavillion. It creeps over the entire city, over the monuments and movie theaters, over the Panhandle dope dens and the flophouses in the Tenderloin. The fog covers the pastel Victorian mansions in Pacific Heights and shrouds the rainbow-colored houses in the Haight. It walks up and down the twisting streets of Chinatown; it boards the cable cars, making their clanging bells sound like buoys; it moves in on the Mission, where the mariachi players are still asleep; and it bothers the tourists. The fog of San Francisco, that cold, identity-cleansing mist that rolls over the city every day, explains better than anything else why that city is what it is.... and in such anonymity, personal change was that much easier."

Coincidentally, this part of the novel came to me at a time when decisions need to be made. I am well aware that in the months that will follow, a move towards that change - whatever choice it might be - will ensue. Our lives are but lists of pros and cons when it comes to paths we (often times deliberately) invariably take on.

Carole King could not have said it better: "Doesn't anybody stay in one place anymore?"

Harry of Hogwarts Harbors Hmillions

I could not quite understand it. Several years back, I don't think I ever stayed up late for a Nancy Drew book release party. Much ado about nothing? I could probably name at least 4 people who bought the book less than 12 hours after its release. There was media coverage, reader and Potter-fan commentaries all throughout. The frenzy was unbelievable. Never really got into the series and would even kid around with some of my Potter-crazy friends, "It's a cult. You all are sucked in. Get out while you can!"

The books reportedly were written in a manner that carries over a bigger age demographic than what the children/teen literature genre usually dictates. At the release of book #6-Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, stories about J.K. Rowling's book reading at the Edinburgh Castle were brought forward, news features of fans who read the book within a day (672 pages) were on every media avenue imaginable, and discussions anticipating what the end might be - well before Madame Rowling even has a chance to sit down and write it - are in countless forums. In light of that release, CNN even reported a study on how young students' overall aptitude scores in both math and verbal recently increased as a result of more encouraged reading outside the curriculum. Did J.K Rowling really make youth reading "cool" again?

(All together now: "TV will rot your brain. TV will rot your brain. TV will...)

In the Forbes Special Issue dated March 14, 2004, J.K. Rowling was valued at $2 billion for her (then) five books that sold 250 million copies. There were speculations in that issue that the "Potter craze may have already peaked." Fast forward 2006: The Forbes pundits were wrong and didn't see this coming. In the US, there were approximately 25,000 copies being sold every hour for the first 24 hours of release.

http://www.cnn.com/2005/SHOWBIZ/books/07/18/britain.sales.reut/index.html

There is this part of me that is intrigued, almost urging me to pick up a copy to know first hand what this phenomenon is all about. Perhaps am a little bit concerned to learn my opinions are wrong. Even more so, maybe I am resisting the hype and be in turn scoffed at by those whom I initially pointed my finger at. Either way, I could only wish that my success story will be along the lines of Harry Potter's creator. J.K. Rowling, the former welfare mother could not have possibly fathomed what her creative burst of genius produced: another sub-culture with a magic of its own.

Sun-fried Contemplations

In the background: Blonde on Blonde (Let Go Album), by Nada Surf

At home on a Saturday night - somewhat of a good thing to recuperate from the after-effects of the sun. Spent a day at Newport, RI - which almost didn't happen thanks to the ever-changing New England weather patterns that initally told us this Saturday was expected to have scattered thunderstorms at 74 degrees. Woke up and saw the sunshine peeking into my room. Nice... Plans to hit the beach were reinstated, at least for me. After much plan-revising - Lena calls me enroute to I-95 South, telling me they have decided to come along.

Would have been nice to get into the water but as we scanned for some real estate on the sand, I saw what seemed like cranberry waves hitting up the shore at Easton's beach. Quite disturbing - but not all too much for me to turn away back to the Boston so soon. Walked around town and got a late lunch-early dinner at Christie's. Sun was setting as we hit home - driving soundtrack left room for discussion on certain tunes:

* Diamond Sea, by Sonic Youth - It had been quite some time since I last fully revisited this song. The track stretches out for 20 minutes and we reminisced on the times past when we listened to this: "Yeah, I would listen to the bulk of it - do my laundry and do some yard work.... come back in the living room and the song will still be on!" While I thought it was a good tune at that time (translate: those few token years when I would wear torn 501's and DM's outside of the constricts of that high school uniform.), this afternoon brought me back into that circle of songs and their meaning. "I wonder how it came to be my friend. That someone just like you has come again. You'll never, never know how close you came...until you fall in love with the diamond rain," Stands as a poetic rendition of an addiction and a split second of lucidity.

* Hey, Chilly P: You owe me 20 bucks worth of clams. "Summer Breeze" is indeed by Seals and Croft. And yes, I like chocolate... "What gave it away?"

Anywhere-but-here Syndrome: Catalogued Entry #1
(might have been the second one if counting the first post)

When I searched Google for "US cities with best weather," this spot showed up in the sponsored results - with no other seemingly viable websites listed on the natural results:

Top Cities to Live and Work:
www.findyourspot.com - Take a quiz to find out the best cities in America that match you.

I suppose that just as people's preferences are unique when it comes to ideal climate, so are their factors in determining what's acceptable. Would not want to be in the chronically hot areas right now, nor would I want to be freezing in an icebox come winter. Where's that fine balace of everyday 75 - 80 degree days (non-humid)? In light of the recent heatwave that hit Beantown - I thought of this view from my room not so many months ago. Sure, the seasons will come around - not that I am enthralled at the 5 some-odd weeks left for summer. Sent this photo (March 2005, 3rd week) to several friends/family in California and Manila, only to be told that I was full of it.

On the Bubble and Living Within One's Means

If not here, then where? There had been a good amount of talk about the ongoing housing bubble, along with speculations of those denying presence of said phenomena.

Most overpriced cities: http://moneycentral.msn.com/content/invest/forbes/P123785.asp?GT1=6706

Riskiest cities to by a home: http://biz.yahoo.com/special/re05_article1.html

Great. Should I start looking into Wyoming?

So we'll go no more a-roving (rowing)...

Ms. E, my English Literature teacher for my last 2 years in high school was very influential during that confusing period. The characters in the stories, the emotion in the poems, and the spirit that came abound on those written works of art she had craftly presented to a rowdy class of '96 - all came alive. Even until now, most everyday events of some considerable gravity can be related to, say... a chapter in the Iliad.

Lord Byron wrote the poem on the subject line in a state of melancholy. It was deliberated in Literature class that it was meant to portray his new resolve - no more free spirited approach to life and loves. He was living an existence akin to a contemporary rock star.... apparently, even that got tiring. Lord Byron presented this poem to the modern world in his as he broke into his 30's.

Just recently had a conversation with a good friend about the changes that do happen at that transition. She had a somewhat jaded view, which did not help an equally demented me. On the surface, men and women, acquaintances and relationships, facts and opinions - evolve, or so is the ideal. "Not really, they (men) don't," she says. I mostly listen. "Hmm," I would say every once in a while - almost agreeing. At what point do people get that point of enlightenment and say, "I'm done." I only wonder because more and more details lead to the [truth] that age is not the only measuring stick there is.


Roving to Rowing

I miss being on the Charles River. There was a time, not so long ago, when I will be rowing down those murky waters and loving every minute of it. I still do - I just hadn't gotten a chance to schedule accordingly. There were bigger projects that got me sidetracked from that plan. My schedule and running program goals just does not leave me time to do it anymore. Plus, I have to renew that swim test certificate.

Crock-of-bull[bleep] excuses.

I picked up HJNIY as a light read, almost as a joke between Kam and I. Laughed at the pseudo-situations and scoffed at some of the comments. But that thing ruined me, because I lost my sense of rationalizing. The premise of that book was that: "If [he] really liked you, [he] will find a way to come and see you and doesn't matter if there was a tornado warning head-on." Made me think, if I really wanted to pursue rowing, I would make it work no matter what. First 3 years into the sport I lived in Wakefield - a good 40 minute drive home from the boathouse. I ate my dinner on the way home after practice... while driving a stick-shift. I would even go as bold as to say that I decided to move to Cambridge, partly for that reason - to be somewhat close to the CRI Boathouse.

While running the other day, I ran past the Mass. Ave Bridge where several crew boats were practicing. I was back in that same state of mind as I did several years back when I first got into rowing. I recall stopping in my run to see the boats go and thought to myself, "Quiet agression. I like that."

On that recent moment of deja vu, I thought: "I need to be reminded of how good that felt. I have to get back." Carried on with my run humming Dirty Water in my head.

Which reminds me...

Sox-Yankees Series, NY bags it 3-1

http://boston.redsox.mlb.com/NASApp/mlb/news/gameday_recap.jsp?ymd=20050717&content_id=1135031&vkey=recap&fext=.jsp&c_id=bos

Good effort on their the attempts to revive the scoreboard towards our favor - but it came up short. Still fairly optimistic for the year, more so than I actually was when the bases were full at no outs on the bottom of the ninth. Still think that: Nixon should have just been allowed to run straight home when he stopped at third, and that call for Alex Cora on first base should have been a safe. But what do I know...

Oh, New York...you cheeky-monkey

London Gets 2012 Olympics, NYC Still Advertising
http://www.adrants.com/2005/07/london-gets-2012-olympics-nyc-still.php

Steve Rubel points to yet another not so well timed contextual ad placement. Today, London was selected to host the 2012 Olympics. In a Yahoo story announcing the news, a New York City Olympic bid ad appeared embedded within the article. Not that anyone's to blame as you can't always time your ad campaign to breaking news but it wasn't looking good for New York for quite some time.

Media placement, public relations, and all other marketing components: tricky circle of promotional planning. London has won the bid - and it was disappointing to most New Yorkers who camped out yesterday awaiting the decision from Singapore. Well deliberated choice, though: The Big Apple is a great city - but to allocate another billion or so to build an Olympic Village in Queens when the UK already has most facilities set, the decision could not have been wiser. How about another irony pill: New York's proposed location in Queens... Olympic venue selection in London where the Queen resides.

**

Etc: Top 5's

Last-song(s)-syndrome*: Some of them are okay, some are like incessant buzzing noises in my ear (translate: annoying as hell).

• Tempted, by the Squeeze (I have got to take out that CD in the car already)
• Real Men of Genius, BudLight Commercial Themes (resulted to fits of laughter)
• Rollover DJ, by Jet
• Sometimes You Can't Make it on Your Own, by U2 (it can get tiring if you hear it over 3x a day. It's sad how airplay does that to a song.
• (This one, very odd as to why...) Jumper, by Third Eye Blind.

*All within a 3-day period.

. 

Independence Day for the Disenchanted Soul

The July 4th weekend had come and gone. In these few token days, meat (processesed and pattied) consumption was on the rise, good brews were overflowing, grills were working overtime and the sky at given moments on certain towns - were bright with lights despite the late hour.

I try to make the most of this holiday - as what one is to do on long weekends. The meaning is not completely lost: as I scanned the crowd, I noticed anticipation among the faces - how is this year's fireworks display going to top the last? (translate: how much of my tax money is going to this?). One man, who seemed a bit too spirited, was trying to get everybody singing God Bless America on the Mass. Ave Bridge. Quite a sight - gives me hope that an awareness lies in some of them - that this weekend was not about the overeating and the fun that comes at the peak of summer. It was about how the British used to call these blessed United States their colonies, and how the power got taken back.

It was then I thought of my independence day.

http://www.bibingka.com/phg/misc/july4not.htm

Up until President Diosdado Macapagal's term in 1962, The Philippines Independence Day was also celebrated on July 4th. One of the key reforms he pushed through was transferring the former date to June 12, wherein on 1898 we were freed of Spanish rule. Max Soliven, opinion editor for the Philippine Star, commented on the July 4th 2005 editorial that despite our history and the guise of independence, the experience of an actual democracy remains blurry. Political, economic and social unrest had been (ironically) constant since 1992 (very generous year estimation).

President Gloria Macapagal Arroyo is on the forefront of Philippine and international news. Both Time and Newsweek reportedly had gotten wind of the scandal and turmoil that was brought forth.

On a personal note, I never really comprehended my father's fascination with Australia and his goal of moving there - at least not at this point in their lives. Despite meeting resistance from my mother and Isma and myself, he is determined. At the wake of this news (Oh fate - the story broke out right on the eve of July 4th.) that a political shakeup is threatening the upcoming elections, I get an email from mom - asking how soon will I be getting citizenship status. This coming from a woman determined to stay put because of the life that she had made for herself and her family at home.

I watched those fireworks and silently mused at how much pride the Amerikanos have. Never did I completely understand the divide between the Republicans and the Democrats, nor the judicial system and a randomly selected jury to determine one's fate - but it felt good to be a part of this. Millions of of "lawful citizens" shared this event and maybe another million who are present- albeit having allegiance to a different flag by default of birth. I will have my own independence day - maybe then I won't be shaking my head in disbelief at the latest Philippine fiasco, and enjoy my burger in peace.

****

From the PhilippineStar.com Archives
July 7, 2005

Whistle-blower surrenders tapes (excerpt)
Headline: by Jess Diaz
http://www.philstar.com/philstar/NEWS200507060402.htm

A whistle-blower in the "Gloriagate" tape scandal turned over yesterday to five House committees investigating the controversy two cassette tapes that he claimed contained "criminal conversations" between former election commissioner Virgilio Garcillano and President Arroyo.

["Gloriagate," as in Watergate? Colonial mentality is still in full-force, I see. Man alive, we can't even give our own scandals an original name?!

Pat on the back, though - doesn't look like we are saved from the mystery of a "Deep Throat" character. ]

Everybody's casting the 'first stone' (excerpts)
Opinion Column: BY THE WAY, by Max V. Soliven
http://www.philstar.com/philstar/NEWS200507062602.htm

Poor GMA. To dunk her deeper into her sea of troubles, TIME Magazine (Asian edition) came out with its second cover of La Gloria in just a few weeks. Depicting a dour-faced Presidenta, the July 11th issue of the newsmagazine trumpeted: "FALLING FROM GRACE: Can Arroyo salvage her presidency?"....

The implication is that this is where she flopped. I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: that radio-TV "Hello, it was me!" confession was an awful lapse in judgment. As Spaeth put it halfway into his article, on page 15: "Arroyo has chosen to break an old rule of politics – ‘never apologize, never explain’ – in a gamble that she can rise above Manila’s deafening political noice and appeal directly to the people." Although he tried to moderate his tone in the last paragraphs even that ending was barbed. The inside headline said it all: "UNDER SIEGE", followed by the subhead: "As vote-rigging scandal deepens and calls for her resignation grow louder, Philippine President Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo is fighting for her political survival."...

What’s worrisome is that – as I feared – the Supreme Court TRO freezing the Expanded Value Added Tax (E-VAT) appears to have screwed up the economy. The Philippine Stock Exchange crashed on Monday following the High Court’s resolution, its steepest one-day plunge since September 2001, while our peso faltered.

[Who amongst them have not wronged in one way or another? Estrada is in jail right now supposedly in an air-conditioned cell, regularly stocked with blue seal Lucky Strikes - not so long ago stones were cast on him. That "damaged culture" clause remaines to be fully proven, however. (Aw, C'mon Mr. Soliven - how about a little er... optimism here.) ]

***

(Fine, then.) On a lighter note:

See how my side of the river ranked against the City of Boston:

Community Research
http://re.boston.com/community/community_detail.asp?SAction=C&CTown1=boston&CTown2=cambridge

One of the restaurants at the hotel we stayed at, Hyatt Regency Waikiki. You bet I was ragged on for this. Thanks, cousins... very funny, really.  

The Roam Chronicles: Alohas and Endless Mai Tais

June 16 -23, 2005: Honolulu, Hawaii (Oahu, Waikiki Beach and North Shore)


I had almost forgotten how beautiful the Hawaiian Islands were. Prior to heading to Logan Airport, I did the customary weather-check for Honolulu, HI: Consistently 89 degrees and sunny, except for a couple of days with alleged scattered showers. It did rain on some days, but when it did - it would dry out within 5 minutes. Even though I had been here twice before, I knew this trip would give me a newfound appreciation for beauty (and sweet pineapples).


Uncle Marv and Lucy scheduled their wedding on the afternoon of the 17th, giving me enough time to unpack, catch up with family and take in the wonderful sea breeze. The view from the hotel, overlooking the Ewa side of Waikiki was amazing. I thought to myself: If lived here, surely this view to greet me every morning would get annoying after a while. Sure, right - of course... all the uncanny ways of ridding myself of the "Anywhere-but-here (Boston, that is) Syndrome."

About a year ago, I remember commending the couple for choosing a great venue for their wedding. It was good to see family whom I have not seen in several years. The ceremony was a small and intimate occasion, with the lush greens of the gardens in the background. It was almost as if the blooms and even the weather was ordered especially for that day. We went up to the deck where the meals and the other festivities were to be held. The sight was one to behold. (Enough to get me sidetracked enroute to the bar and the hors d'oueveres station.)

We headed out to the North Shore afterwards and drove around the island. Great views all throughout, didn't seem to have encountered traffic at any point. Had several stops before heading into the central area where the surf shops and the restaurants (including the famous Matsumoto Shave Ice shack) are located. As we waded on the beach, we caught sight of boats - reminiscent of crew, but with canoe paddles. On this same shore, Aunt Merlyn and I were a few arms-length away from 3 huge sea turtles. We rolled up our pants to get closer, wanted to touch them and tried to get them to the shore. Wished we had anticipated this and dressed accordingly.

Gigantic waves on the North Shore, nothing compared to the waves I have seen at Cape Cod, or anywhere in the East. The swells can get as high as 30 feet in December. This location was several miles away from the fabled Banzai Pipeline.

Completely random - I never fully understood this one either (along with the Hawaiians' reported Spam consumption).

Buddhist Temple on the way back from Hanaluma Bay. I remember it being a bit cold that day, but not quite stopping us from roaming around the island.

Back to Waikiki and making a mental note of what else I need to accomplish for this trip. Every single day, I saw the beach across the street filled with sunbathers, swimmers and surfers. The aquamarine blue waters are clear and the sand bars where the waves break enable people to be walking waist deep in water despite their hundred yards (or more) distance from the shore. Unreal - I realized that a part from my gratefulness to be there was my fascination at sights such as this, which actually do exist beyond the tourist postcards.

On Surfing: This was a goal that I had set for this trip, thanks to Jen and Irene for going through this with me. I have always wanted to learn: for some time now I thought of how I would have turned out if immensed in the surfing culture earlier on in life. No other better place to learn but the warm waters of the Pacific. We signed up and headed out to a section in Waikiki where it was not as crowded (No sense in a big audience to see me wipeout.). We paddled several hundred yards from the shore - not sure exactly, but it was a good distance. The instructors were all very helpful and chose the waves we were to take. First few times I tried - I could not get my balance and was having difficulty standing up on the board. Hitting the water was hard, not just on my body, but on my psyche. On my upteenth fall, while seriously wondering whether or not I'll get this, my foot hit bedrock - my left foot and toes were bruised and cut. Yet, I paddled back to hopefully catch one - and only then was I able to catch my first wave. It was an unbelievable feeling being up there, racking my brain on how this time was different from all other attempts. Two other waves were on my terms after that before we had to head back. I understood then, how one can get hooked on this.

The stinging did not start until I was back on land, not to mention the sore shoulders and the arm rashes the next day. It was all worth it - and yes, I would do it again.

We went to a Luau at the Royal Hawaiian Palace, oldest hotel in Hawaii where the Monarchs and other dignitiaries reportedly have stayed. The show was entertaining and the food was bountiful. Had a few drizzles prior to dinner, that ended in time for the program. Looked over the horizon towards Diamond Head. What we saw was a perfect component to a wonderful Hawaiian getaway.

The Iolani Palace featured exhibits and galleries that houses information on the history of how the Hawaiian Islands came to be govered and their transition from a monarchy to their United States annexation. The rich culture and pride - layered under the sand, sun and surf that the islands are known for - stands worthy of discovery as well. True story: I was mistaken for a 17 year-old by one of the tour guides at the entrance.

http://www.royalty.nu/America/Hawaii.html




"Yes, I liked da kine." Laidback living, plentiful tropical fruits and coconut trees, beautiful beaches and endless sunshine - I could get used to this. As I re-packed my luggage on the way back to the East Coast, I vowed that I will come back. Mahalo to my family and everyone who made this Hawaiian escapade a memorable one. Still enjoying the macadamias, and will be riding on this wave for as long as I could stretch this mai tai-fueled high.