Rising from the clutter on my desk...

My year without a summer

2007-09-12T00:53:00.000-07:00

The year 1816 brought a weather phenomena that set forth a chain reaction of events. The "Year Without a Summer" was also dubbed by historians and scientists as "Eighteen hundred and froze to death," where poverty hit the Northern United States and New England, Canada, and Northern Europe. The snow-filled summer of that year resulted to heavily-damaged crops, destroyed agricultural livelihood, and a mass exodus of people from the affected regions to complete the westbound move to where they had hoped to be areas of kinder climactic conditions.

It has been over a year since I also had completed my west-ward Boston-San Francisco move.

The year 2007 marks my year without a summer. Between June through the Labor Day weekend, there were no trips made to the beach, no tan, no sand on my toes, not a whole lot of patio bar happy hour sessions. The weekends were not my own, as most of them were spend under this fog cloud. Yes, apparently we were blessed this year (more than the last) with a few days of summer-like weather; and then there were those mornings where I went to work wearing a fleece jacket.

Fault is mine: Could've-would've-should've made time to cross the bridge a few miles out of San Francisco to remember how a California summer is supposed to be like. But I was at the mercy of, well - other seemingly bigger things. No summer tan, no foliage. September and October should be better for this area, warmth-wise... so in retrospect I suppose it was not so bad.

Who am I kidding? I look at that snowboard propped on the wall and think: Let the (snow) season start already.

Hiatus Shmiatus (part deux)

2007-09-12T00:18:00.000-07:00

Same old story. Slightly different string of events from April 2007-September 2007.

Excuse#1: Got caught in a turmoil of surf and baby turtles here.
Excuse #2: Sister's graduation brought me here, and in turn sought to be back in that school setting.
Excuse #3: Short trip back to Beantown; caught up with good friends and put more damage to my knees.
Excuse #4: The usual suspect - work.

We built this city

2007-04-10T01:33:00.000-07:00

Not so much on rock and roll. BusinessWeek featured a list of the World's Top 100 Most Liveable Cities, a report published by Mercer Human Resource Consulting based on what works well with.... the expats? I scanned the list quickly and had my share of agree/disagree/doesn't-make-sense opinions on the entries.

On one hand, "liveable" can be a very relative term.

Interesting to see that the United States did not have a representative until the #27 position: Honolulu, Hawaii. Nothing against paradise, but I am not so certain a liveable city to a local means paying the highest sales tax in the United States with your purchases because of a nature of the tourism-driven state.

Nice to see San Francisco, CA land right after Hawaii.... and surprisingly followed by Boston, MA as the 3rd US contender at #36. Manila has yet to climb up from #123. (Odd. I recall seeing the aforementioned expats in Makati/Alabang last time I was home and they seemed pretty comfortable....)

*Thanks for the tip on the article, sister.

How could I have missed it?

2007-04-03T17:43:00.000-07:00

Google's April Fool's Day joke:

Ides of March

2007-03-12T15:38:00.000-07:00

From its roots in the ancient Roman calendar, the phrase is currently used in the context of a mid-month period. "Ides of March" is also a metaphor to describe a disaster forthcoming.

Ides of March = Impending Doom (says Wikipedia). Is a beautiful day/string of days (70 degrees approx. until the fog rolls in) an indication of what's to be feared? Apparently in San Francisco, doom came in a hue of tickled pink.

I was finishing this post and got sidetracked: Sonia Zjawinski posted an article on Metrophile from the Wired Blog Network about an earthquake awareness campaign by the American Red Cross (Bay Area Chapter) in conjunction with ad shop Publicis & Hal Riney. Take a sample of what's to grace the streets of San Francisco.

(I'm afraid. I'm very afraid.)

Photo credits: Thank you, Sai Haridoss, for the snapshot of spring blosssoms on Potrero Hill.

Surfing in the Philippines...?

2007-03-08T17:03:00.000-08:00

Tina, one of my best friends from back home, was visiting the Bay Area and told me that surfing in the Philippines have gained momentum in the past 4-5 years. It is reportedly more of a current trend amongst artistas and high-profile Filipinos who have the time and luxury to venture out to a handful of surf breaks within our islands. After reading recent articles on this, I found out that locals of the identified surfing communities in Siargao and La Union have been embracing this sport as well. Not surprisingliy so - it was a hard feat to overcome the frustrations of trying to surf for the first time, but the feeling of finally catching that wave is unmatched.

I recall a conversation with a friend after picking up surfing:
Friend: (amazed) Hawaii was your first time, really? You never surfed before?
CM: Never - I wish I got into this earlier in life, though.
Friend: But, you're from the Philippines..!
CM: (with conviction) There's no surfing in the Philippines. I would imagine the breaks would be inconsistent through the storm season.
Friend: Philippines, though!? Tropical country, monsoons, and yet no surfing?!
CM: (indignant) Believe me - I would have done it if I knew of places over there!

One of the many times in life where I eventually found myself in Camp Wrong.

Identified top surf breaks within the Philippine Islands (From the Philippines Travel Guide):
1. Badoc Island, Ilocos Norte Province. North west coast of Luzon. (Irony: My parents are from The Ilocos Norte Province, where we drive up 1-2x a year. )
2. Baler, Aurora Province. East coast of Luzon
3. Catanduanes. Island province off east coast of Luzon.
4. Daet, Camarines Norte Province. East coast of Luzon
5. La Union Province. West coast of Luzon.
6. Samar. The east coast of Samar Island
7. Siargao Island. North east of Mindanao
8. Vigan, Ilocos Sur Province. West coast of Northern Luzon.
9. Zambales Province. West coast of Luzon.

I stand proud having the Philippines being recognized as a surfing destination. Locals and tourists alike are bound to, not only enjoy the waves, but the food and the hospitality that is inherent in the people of the friendly islands.

However, things are never without a catch. The reality is that hazards are abound, and they are not necessarily contained in the water. From Globalsurfers.com is a word to surfing enthusiasts who may be lured to this part of the world:

Safety: Safety and security should be of paramount concern to any visitor to the Philippines. It is vital to be fully informed of threats and developments regarding crime, terrorism and kidnapping before and during a visit to the islands. Vigilance is vital throughout the islands, particularly in Manila, as opportunistic crimes are motivated by circumstances of poverty. Extremist groups have a history of kidnapping foreign tourists, and terrorist bombings have occurred frequently in Manila and Mindanao, targeting transport and public places. Terrorist groups have also threatened to attack passenger ferries and other vessels, particularly those operating from Mindanao. The threat of terrorism and kidnapping is greatest in central, southern and western Mindanao, Basilan, Tawi Tawi, Jolo and the Sulu archipelago; the FCO, US Department of State and other governments advise against all travel to these areas, and care should also be taken in Palawan and at coastal resorts and tourist centres throughout.

At least we don't have reported shark attacks familiar to the coasts of Australia and South Africa. Then again, I have been mistaken before.

Photo Credits: Thingsasian.com

Film vs. Movie

2007-02-25T18:14:00.000-08:00

Twas the night of the highly-anticipated Oscar awards. While some commiserate on whose gown was the saddest failure of the night, others may opt to ask the more germane question: Was the recognition well-deserved?

Apropos to the event Urban Dictionary differentiates a film from a (mere) movie:
Heaven help you if you disagree with where "Fast and The Furious" was classifed.

Bullet with Butterfly Wings

2007-02-11T23:06:00.000-08:00

I was motivated to beat my previous time during that last half-marathon in Boston. The same way I bid goodbye to my old stomping ground - what better way to fully get me into the San Francisco state of mind by taking in the views and roaming its coastal streets? On Superbowl Sunday, I took on the challenge (with a prayer that my knees will not buckle halfway).

Kaiser Permanente Half-Marathon 2007, San Francisco
Sunday, February 4, 2007, 8:00am

Bib/Race #: 4341
Net Time: 1:55:05
Published Time: 2:06:05

Final choice for a starter tune: Bullet with Butterfly Wings, by the Smashing Pumpkins. It was quite a challenge to finalize the tunes in my running mix (Aptly titled: "Run, Dammit!") for this race. They advise not to start with something too fast as it would tire me out easily. They say try to stay uniform across the mix and the slow down/speed up intervals should be gradual. To think that filling your list with Chemical Brothers and Korn would get you on a consistent angry speed mode to the finish, is unwise. The beginning lines of Bullet builds up to faster, edgier riffs - shortly after hearing, "And what do I get for my pain? Betrayed desires... and a piece of the game" I picked up speed, without consciously meaning to.

Great running conditions for that day: Comfortable weather that started at 55-60 degrees and warming up to almost 70 mid-morning, the course was relatively flat with a few rolling hills through Golden Gate Park, wonderful views of Ocean Beach. I tried to focus on my running pace, while minding my gait and not over-exerting on my problematic right knee. With controlled breathing and adeptness at bobbing and weaving past other runners without tripping anybody - everything else around me did not exist... except for the lush greens in the park, the arboretum, the de Young Museum, and the crashing waves by the Great Pacific Highway. This running route is by far one of the most scenic I have ever experienced - that alone made it all worthwhile.

At last year's race in Boston, I started feeling the knee pains at Mile 7. This time around, I ran past Mile 8 slightly fatigued, but in better shape and lacking that familiar sting. At one point, oddly enough - it was as if a dose of Vivarin kicked in and I was noticing my feet gain momentum: Before getting onto the Ocean Beach route, it looked like I was sprinting for a good 5-8 minutes. I wondered if this ease was because of the Yoga, or the Glucosamine (horse) pills I have been taking everyday. It was all short-lived, as my knee started hurting at Mile 10.

It was frustrating - but not enough to get me to quit with about 3 miles to go. Comical how I thought back to my starting song - I did feel like a bullet, trying to gain momentum at the last stretch, albeit stuck with flimsy flutters. Another thing that I liked about this course, however... was the mile to the finish. Boston had about a 1.5 mile distance from the last turn (with finish line in view) to the actual finish, accented with an arched bridge in the middle to mimic a hill. So close, yet so far.... The last mile for the Kaiser race comprised of several turns. On the last right-hand turn, it was a pleasant surprise to see that only approximately 25 feet is the finish line.

I have always relied on time chip technology for accurate race scores, but this race did not utilize that. Instead, runners who finished were funnelled in lanes for another 10 feet or so - at the end of that would be the kind volunteers who collected your race# tag and put your time down at the time of receipt. This brings forth inaccurate scores because 1) It does not acknowledge your time at crossing the Start, and 2) How does that take into account the slow bastard in front of me in that lane? Sure, we're all winded - but he was just stretching while walking with a slow gibbon's gait. Screw then the scoring authority - I knew I finished well under 2 hours.

Right at the end of those lanes was a sight of a familiar face. Steve was looking around scoping the runners and probably wondering if he will ever find me. I walked over, and before I could even give him a hug of relief and gratitude, he says "Hey!.... What's that on your chin?" At Mile 6, I took a dose of a Cliff Energy Gel, Chocolate flavor. I knew it dripped and got to my face, but I also thought I scrubbed it all off. Great. I finished the second half of the race with a huge chocolate stripe across my chin. Just glorious.

The Patriots may not have made it to the Superbowl this year - but other victories were achieved this day (and we'd almost feel sorry to see Peyton "cut that meat" Manning be the butchered one if he cannot deliver a Superbowl win with his salary). Nevertheless, I highly recommend this race for first time half-marathon runners, as well as those who need to be reminded (informed, enchanted, mesmerized) of how beautiful this city is.

On the other side my angst-ridden started song, was a tune that kicked up towards the end of that Mile 13 marker that was suitable with my overall sentiments at that moment: Float On, by Modest Mouse.

Image credits: http://geology.usgs.gov/postdoc/profiles/barnard1.jpg

Reversal of the underdog

2007-02-07T00:57:00.000-08:00

Image credits: http://www.dukesgloballinks.com
Thank you, Siri. Great preso...

Here vs.There

2007-02-06T23:58:00.000-08:00

Boston and San Francisco had some interesting news bits in the past few days.

In Boston:

The bomb scare story, where Sean Stevens and Peter Berdovsky executed a guerrilla ad campaign. Marketers, take note. The same pranksters videotaped police response to their idea of creating buzz.
I guess Mitt was really going to run after all.
Talk of weather overrated? Not if I'm spared here from these temperatures.
(The three-hour time difference can be a strain to phone correspondence. After a gruelling game of phone-tag, a dear friend reports that she is expecting. Emily, probably one of the most active and athletic women I know, will soon give up the rowing oars to be a mom.)

In San Francisco:

"I'm your mayor and I'm an alcoholic." (Chorus: Hi, Mayor)
Good golly, Queen Mary! The majestic ship is reported to be the biggest vessel to have ever entered the San Francisco Bay. A mere 30 foot clearance was all there was as the ship cruised under the Golden Gate bridge.
Of course. Just my luck - now that I actually would like to get my snowboarding (lack of) skills worked on, snow had been scant in Tahoe. Wasn't I just shovelling my car out of a mound of that last year?
(Finished a half-marathon on Superbowl Sunday, leaving my right knee a painfully sore pulp for 2 days. Fun times.)

On the Bush Iraq plan, (Republican) survey says...

2007-02-06T01:33:00.000-08:00

No.

"The vote is whether we can proceed to debate the escalation to the war in
Iraq," Reid said. "And the Republicans have told everybody they're all gonna
vote 'no.'"

Well, 'no' on the motion to proceed, that is. For now. More discussions on this resolution to continue, despite several other key issues that need to be addressed this week. For $245B and more lives on the line, is it any wonder that the debate shall go on?

Reunited, and it feels so good

2007-01-31T01:28:00.000-08:00

There's a little bright spot on the news today: The anticipated reunion was sealed for next month's Grammy's.

Up Next: An attempt to obtain the most creative news coverage catch phrase alluding to a Police tune.

State of the (my) Union

2007-01-23T22:28:00.000-08:00

Twenty-three days into the new year and the President's State of the Union address is all the buzz.

This news preceded Democratic presidential candidate announcements, premiere of a show that had gone one season too long, and the buzz over Steve Job's new gadget.

If this is an indication of 2007, it's going to be quite a year.

The previous year was interesting in a hectic-blur kind of way. I moved across coast and - well, I've given enough babble on that. Work has not really calmed down and the previous Holiday season left me in need of evaluating a lot of things.

Unlike the esteemed powers of this nation, I'm not asking for over 20,000 soldiers to be deployed overseas. A vacation would be sufficient for me. I need time for myself, clear my brain before I do something crazy like... sign up for a race on Superbowl Sunday at 8 am in the morning.

Too late. I just did.

Fa,lalalalala...latte

2006-12-22T18:48:00.000-08:00

"Non-fat, half-caff, extra hot, extra foamy grande macchiatto... and his order."

Pantagraph reports an incident of holiday spirit-sharing at a local Starbucks in Bloomington-Normal, Illinois. The article reports that as the customers pulled up the drive-thru window, they have been told that whatever their coffee order is, it has been paid for. Between 9am to 12:57pm, 142 people had "paid it forward" and spread kindness over java.

Shame on that scrooge who placed an order at 12:58pm.

Christmas is not lost in retail madness, apparently. Kindness flourished in that part of town even for only a few hours - a few hours more than what we sometimes care to give.

The post received tons of comments... and I particularly liked this one. (Because it sounded like something I could have written)

Cousin Eddie wrote on December 14, 2006 2:28 PM:
"What a nice town we live in! Any chance of that happening at Best Buy if I attempt to buy a 60" plasma flat-panel TV? I'll be there this afternoon if anyone feels like throwing a little Christmas spirit my way."

Image credit: Slate.com

For Chester (1993-2006)

2006-12-13T02:59:00.000-08:00

There were more than just two siblings in the Madamba household. About thirteen years ago, there was another one to join the already brewing insanity between those crazy sisters. Not another daughter for the parental units, but a male with distinguishing spots - a bit on the hairy side. We then welcomed bright-eyed, mixed-breed pup (Japanese Spitz and a Philippine native breed) onto our realm and named him Chester.

His fur is predominantly white, as is typical of Spitz breed, save for a brown spot by the right eye (akin to a pirate) and a bigger one by the arch of his back (like a saddle). Grew up to be very energetic and healthy. Truly have been a loyal addition to our family. My only regret is that I didn't get to be as close as I could to him because he primarily stayed outside the house (Yes, we pimped his crib, aka "the guest house") and save for 3 years - I was already living abroad. Some few moments when I wasn't too happy with him: On nights/early mornings as a teenager, creeping back to the house in the hopes of not waking up anyone at 4am. At the slightest creak of the gate, Chester starts to bark. I run towards him and try quiet him down. Goshdarnit, too late. My parent's bedroom light turns on.

He could have very well been our brother - we all regarded him as that other sibling. A side joke between my sister and I: Dad cared for Chester a lot, special treatment, doggie bag treats etc. At the time when had this insatiable urge to learn to drive, only to be met with resistance, we surmised that it won't be to far out of an idea if Chester was given the go-signal for a driver's license before we did.

Age got a hold of him. I saw it the last time I visited home (2004): Poor eyesight, tumors behind his ears, arthritis - it was all still Chester, but considerably calmer. He held on for over two more years after that until mom recently shared the news that he passed away.

Seeing how he was thirteen years ago as a furry ball of fire that never tired, it still feels weird that Chester's life came full-circle within our lifetime. It never is easy to experience something ending , which is the nature of life anyway, even in measurement of dog years.

No fries (donuts, fried chicken, cookies...) for you!

2006-12-06T00:47:00.000-08:00

MSNBC reports today that the transfat ban was was passed in the Big Apple.

By July of 2008, McDonalds, TacoBell, Uncle Vinny's Pizzeria, and even Grey Papaya, amongst the long list of food establishments in the city, will be mandated to eliminate the use of frying oils with trans fat content.

I am a non-discriminatory foodie; I can enjoy a tasty Angus filet Au jus, while also finding satisfaction in a post-ballgame sausage/sauerkraut sandwich. However, I have been pegged on some occasions as an exercise nut, which is probably stemming from the guilt of being a foodie. Therefore, I commend New York as it shapes itself on its way to being the healthiest city in the United States (Sperling's Best Places reports San Jose, CA to currently have that distinction. Shame, shame... New York City is at #8 for cities with the lowest health scores). Eat more of that (E-coli safe) spinach! Think twice about munching on those Burger King Fries! Stop friends looking at your breakfast from saying "Man! Would you like some bagel with that cream cheese?"

Health is one great reason (if not the only one) this had been passed as it did. While that truth stands, any city-dweller in love with New York, or even any one who had been fortunate to experience the city in one way or another must be wondering: What is this to do to the culture? Forget the McHuge food chains - how is this dramatically going to impact smaller establishments, or street vendors that have - in more ways than Zagat would admit, toiled to earn their place in the New York gastronomic landscape?

If they can make it there, they'll make it anywhere. Chain reaction is inevitable. Should this go by way of the smoking ban trail, I'm putting money on the educated guess that some cities in California and Massachusetts are already looking into the possibility of joining imitation nation.

Turn, turn, turn...

2006-11-27T23:53:00.000-08:00

BusinessWeek reports - more like, asks the question: Is the Philippines finally turning around?

So.... is it?

Assif Shameen outlines the improvements seen from the past years, straddled by the conflicts and challenges to the administration. The deficits are on its way to being eliminated, albeit the homeland is in dire need of moving at pace with our Asian neighbors. Overseas remittances continue to fuel economic growth to the projected tune of $12.3 billion dollars in 2006, but we still have to be mindful of this "brain drain dilemma", where some of our most talented workers seek better opportunities outside our borders - for due reason.

Give me something to believe in. I read this somewhat pleased, but still not quite at ease - left eyebrow raised. Could it really be? Guarded as I am with this twinkle of good news... this brings forth some pride. Some hope. Some motivation for myself to stop overly complaining about how Manila is not what it is without the greed, the corruption, and the wide gap brought forth by our non-existent middle class. I have said before, without much conviction, there is hope for the Philippines yet.

Maybe there is.

Just when I have started to get into the minute of zen - it was but a fleeting moment. In scrolling down to the comments, a certain expat laments:

Nov 27, 2006 3:32 PM GMT
This writer has obviously not spent much time in the Philippines. Nice people, corrupt and inept government. There has been some slight improvement in roads and internet availability but it is a badly managed country where the best opportunity is as an overseas worker. That being said, Arroyo is better than Estrada and Marcos, but Manila is light years behind Thailand, Malaysia, Singapore, China or even India. Don't invest there. There's a joke over there among expats: "Welcome to the Philippines, Slow Down!" Jeff Kassel Makati, Philippines

I had to take a deep breath. Closed my eyes, and repeated the mental mantra several times, "Each one to his/her own opinion... each one to..."

On that note, I just might post under a pseudonym. (Interesante - I can even turn this into a search engine results experiment.) Kassel and ignorami can express their opinions. So can I. I just might conjure up enough strength soon to click Submit Comment on what I have to say:

Even the coldest of skeptics need something to believe in. Like most Filipinos, my concept of home is not complete without seeing the humor in how sad our political system is. Admittedly, I shake my head in disbelief at how the Philippines find herself in the direst of economic and social situations. And yet, featured articles such as this appease me (while still guarded) and lead me to believe that maybe there is hope. Therefore, when I read comments such as the ones posted by Kassel, I struggle to put the infuriation aside and beg to ask, “We welcomed you to our country, dear sir. Despite such opinions, surely there is something keeping you? And when you say ‘…best opportunity is as an overseas worker’ with a questionable tone, do you propose we adopt a model akin to the flawed social welfare system in the US instead?” Miles to go before improvement – yes, but my people are a resourceful and resilient lot. I agree with Carl: Kassel and other critics, move a few miles out of your comfortable upscale addresses and send us a postcard from where you end up in. We don’t care about the weather, but do tell on how you’re liking the drastic change in perspective.

Slow news day?

2006-11-20T18:10:00.000-08:00

From Sunday through today, I'd like to believe there were more substantial things to discuss than a wedding of (Hollywood personalities, yes, but still...) mere mortals. Isn't there a war going on? Didn't the Democrats take the power back? Isn't John Kerry seriously considering another shot at the Presidential Democratic nomination and botched a joke in the process? L. Ron Hubbard couldn't be any prouder than this day, as Xenu nods in approval.

USA Today
BRACCIANO, Italy — After pulling off their fairy-tale wedding in a castle outside Rome Saturday, Tom Cruise and Katie Holmes have moved on to their honeymoon destination.

Boston Herald
BRACCIANO, Italy - In the end, Tom Cruise and Katie Holmes’ “wedding of the year” in this lakeside Italian town gave little satisfaction to fans closest to it.

CBS
(AP) In the end, Tom Cruise and Katie Holmes' "wedding of the year" in the lakeside Italian town of Bracciano gave little satisfaction to those closest to it.

The Australian
HOLLYWOOD'S most hyped marriage of the year turned out to be an anti-climax.

The Standard, Hong Kong
Officially, they got married in Los Angeles, but the spectacle of Tom Cruise and Katie Holmes' wedding was in Bracciano, Italy...

But whoa... Now, this is a disappointment. Of all news avenues, my main source of pure Tom Cruise nuttydom has not updated any articles since September 6th! Sacrilege... just plain wrong!
TomCruiseIsNuts.com
(No news on the fairy tale wedding in Bracciano, Italy)

Get to it, team. Every news joint from here to Timbuktu were on it like flies to a - well, you know. Don't worry about covering Kissinger's validation of the failing Iraq war, surely that will get out eventually.

One Hundred Years too long

2006-11-04T01:25:00.000-08:00

I finally finished it. After four months, and several books read in between, I was able to put down this Gabriel Garcia Marquez masterpiece, One Hundred Years of Solitude.

What I am to write here would sound like a cross between an amateur and an eighth-grader having a hissy fit about a book report on the novel. (What's the point? It has gotten enough raves and accolades anyway - mine won't matter.) Not going to a lie, it was an interestingly hard read. I struggled through some chapters where names, events and timelines were all in a blur. No conversations - pure narrative straight through. Oh, how could the text have turned around if that part towards the end, the one involving "peach jam" had featured actual exchange of words. Or other non-verbal utterances.

On several occasions I had been tempted to rip off the page of the family tree and just tape it near wherever I'll read. Keeping up with the family members and who-is-named-what is part of the experience. Everyone is either named Arcadio, Aureliano, or Remedios... how about including a Miguel, Carlos, Fidel or Consuelo in there? Would have been easier than trying to figure out if the one coming home to Macondo this time around is Jose Arcadio #2 or number #57. The story of the family and the mythical town is mesmerizing indeed, with a scenario involving the fabled parchments towards the end, putting logic in a constant struggle within the personal stories: The meaning of said parchment and the prophecies outlined came full-circle.

On that note, I am off to start Tolstoy's War and Peace.

Todo Sobre Mi Madre

2006-11-01T00:57:00.000-08:00

She tells me that I should call more often... I tell her I have always had an odd way of showing how I miss her. I remind her of how she tormented me with stiff-lipped sermons and pinched arms when I was a stubborn kid; She completely denies having done a ghastly disciplinary deed. I love her - for all that and everything else.

Gotta love birthdays... This day is all about my mother.

Broiling in Bikram

2006-10-25T00:49:00.000-07:00

In the background: Image of Yourself, by Adam Ant (Wonderful album)

I never thought I would get to try it. Imagine being in Las Vegas. On a heatwave. Dry air in a room that felt like 120 degrees. You generate sweat at 2 gallons per minute...

Now do an eagle pose.

I have walked by Funky Door Yoga (Pine @ Bush) on numerous occasions, several of which I seriously considered just walking in and signing up. The facility is clean, and the mix of colors on the main areas and bathrooms complement the yoga caricatures on display - giving the location a relaxed vibe. Friendly-folk staffed at that location were kind to newbies. I was warned that it was going to be toasty in that room - they did not lie (It felt like I was drinking lukewarm tea out of my nalgene bottle halfway through). The instructor was engaging, and she had that good balance of not being too ohm-zen(ish) in walking us through the poses, without sounding short of a drill sergeant either. Compared to the classes offered in the gym, the crowd here is more in-tuned with the practice.

In Hatha and Ashtanga Yoga gym classes, I was the one in the back that would go "thump!" while I struggle to do the crow. I will still probably be royally sucking at the poses until I fully get this into my system. Yoga, in general, initially gave me the impression that no "work" was being done with the sessions. It humbled me. Bikram Yoga, on the other hand, is out to get me schooled.

The Embarcadero Route

2006-10-18T01:14:00.000-07:00

It can't be. 5.25 miles... really?

I would go for a run after work, every other day - at the most (I used to go everyday by the Charles.... Slacking, I know). Got into a conversation earlier about running routes and upcoming races. I was asked how many miles do I usually run when I do get to go out at night.

"3 miles. I think. 475 Brannan to the end, Embarcadero down near ferry building... detour to Pier 14 (?), back to Embarcadero to Pier 39.. back to Brannan."

I got doubtful looks. Fine. Checked www.mapmyrun.com (Powered by Google. What isn't nowadays?)

If the measurements here are correct, then yes - over 5 miles each time. Some might scoff at this, but boo on them. Awesome - just when I was starting to think my endurance and motivation for a short 3 miler was on the decline.

(Now if I could just go further to Fisherman's Wharf without my knees buckling, that would be great.)

Que?

2006-10-11T00:42:00.000-07:00

Adrants reports a grammar correction request to one of Infiniti's (Canada) ads. You say toma-to I say toma-toe, should we call the whole thing off? Eh?:

The subject of your headline is the word "ALL"........not
"WINGS". Therefore the verb "is" must be used to agree with the subject, not the
PLURAL "are" as it now reads....

Please consult someone at your ad agency
who is over the age of 40 and who learned how to speak English back in the day
when teachers cared and/or knew the difference between good and just plain
WRONG.

YouTube, GTube, We all Tube

Are you really only worth $1.65 Billion, YT? Speculations are abound on how this would impact Googles susceptibility of being a copyright-violation magnet. Sure, it might hurt Google with a few extra lawsuits - would that be enough to overcome the potential ad avenue that Sergey Brin views this partnership to be?

Amazing. Next thing you know, Google will review the feasibility of acquiring a famous coffee chain, perhaps even consider that movie deal with Pixar.

Very well, Page/Brin/Schmidt. Now, how about working to get MySpace off Murdoch's already full hands?

The Morning-Person Formula

2006-10-09T02:21:00.000-07:00

The morning alarm clock sound is painful to bear, the first step out of the bed, even harder. Postsecret features this postcard, proving the possibility that I too may soon say "Good morning!" one of these days and actually mean it.

From: Postsecret, 10/8/06

I take my coffee black

2006-10-06T00:03:00.000-07:00

In the background: California Stars, by Wilco (Mermaid Avenue album)

Whaaat does that headline say?

Story headlines in Adrants are usually clever exercises in puns. They catch your attention enough to widen your eyes for a second before scrolling to the full story. Such is the effect of this one that was posted two days ago.

Rear Entry Advised For Family Plannng
http://www.adrants.com/2006/10/rear-entry-advised-for-family-plannng.php
Classic case of intended meaning vs. misinterpretation.

Should I?

Nike Women's Marathon (Full/Half)
October 22, 2006

Grande Strong Brew, please.

Why not? I have come to the point where 2-shots of espresso wth steamed milk does nothing to my degree of functionality anymore. Therefore, I'm the one who shoots toward the office coffee station in the morning, pours some Superfly Feature Brew on my mug and foregoes the cream and the sugar; that's 3-seconds of my time in the morning I could have used otherwise.

"You take your coffee black?!" Oh, but the jolt you get on that first bitter swig is unmatched - I said to a co-worker this morning with a quick sip of the devil's brew. On one hand drinking the coffee without any additions allows you to taste the essence of how the beans were roasted. It will enable you to distinguish the the Kona brew from the Ethiopian, the Sumatra from Sulawesi, the quality java from the dishwater decaf.

Important thing was was that my cup of joe woke me up this morning - enough to at least drive me to some semblance of productivity.

Until 10:30.

See Cham Run

2006-10-02T23:19:00.000-07:00

I'm joining. Maybe:

Nike Running Club, SF
278 Post St. @Stockton , Union Square
Wednesdays, 6-8pm

5-mile Embarcadero Route

Fine, Nike. I'm just gonna do it. (Will they let me run with my comfortable Asics shoes and clima-lite Adidas gear?)

Hiatus Shmiatus: Reflections on the move

2006-09-28T23:12:00.000-07:00

In the background: Inside and Out, by Feist (from Let it Die)

Apparently, I do this every once in a while: I will fall off the face of the earth and then apologize for not having been here nor there. I go MIA, only to emerge with a barrage of excuses.

Well, I moved, alright? I packed/shipped my life across some odd thousands of miles, and now I see more of the Pacific waters than the Atlantic. I see steep residential hills, whereas I used to be lost among a crowd of transient university students and fervent Fenway folk. Leave me be, not like everybody does this kind of thing often....

Okay, so people move quite often - sometimes across further distances and transcending languages. I have been 2+ months into this West coast existence - have I fully settled in? Unpacked yes, the settling in part is pending. I still have a Massachusetts drivers license and a Boston phone area code and that needs to change.

It has to change amongst other things because I like it here. I miss the brisk weather (and overall attitude?) of the east coast dwellers. I miss knowing where to go before I even glance at the directions. I miss the change of colors this time of year and I miss the comfort in knowing where I can get a hearty plate of potato pancakes (Zaftigs, at Coolidge Corner).

I like it here. I see myself being in San Francisco for a long time that before I continue to maintain this online journal with praises on this fabulous city, (like a great view seen over Seacliff, or an amzing restaurant on Sutter and Larkin, etc) why don't I just dispell some myths:

Everyone on the west coast/California is nice and friendly. Not necessarily - most people here are hurriedly trying to get to work like everyone else. (maybe not by the same sense of urgency as others, though). Do not stress about having to smile at every person you meet on the street. I think the ratio of sweethearts and jerks remain pretty consistent across coasts. Save San Diego and the SoCal, perhaps.

San Francisco's warmest month is in September. Maybe for an hour last Sunday, but it was a balmy 56 degreess last night, slightly windy.

If you're going to San Francisco, be sure to wear some flowers in your hair. I scanned the section of my one-way ticket flight. Nobody with flowers, no hippies. Defeated, sat back down until we've taxied fully to the gate. I looked outside the window and saw my new city.... I was too excited that I forgot about the regrets of not having bought a flower hair wreath.

On Goodbyes

2006-07-02T04:14:00.000-07:00

May 2000 – June 2006, this marks the end of the Boston chapter. “You’ll come back,” I was told, to which I just raised an eyebrow and smiled. “If you want to, that is,” he added.

Good to know.

I was having a conversation with a good friend about the concept of “home” and what factor determines one as such, more than the mere place. With my one-way ticket booked, and the dwindling last few days in Boston before heading to San Francisco, I recall these lines from a film somewhere:

You know that point in your live when you realize that the house you grew up in isn’t really your home anymore? All of a sudden even though you have some place where you can put your stuff, that idea of home is gone.

You’ll see when you move out, it just sort of happens one day and it’s just gone. And you can never get it back. It’s like you get homesick for a place that doesn’t exist. I mean it’s like this right of passage, you know? You won’t have this feeling again until you create a new idea of home for yourself… it’s like a cycle or something. I miss the idea of it. Maybe that’s all family really is. A group of people who miss the same imaginary place.

Interesting Finds from the Packing Project, #6753

2006-06-21T20:56:00.000-07:00

In the background: Another White Dash, by Butterfly Boucher
* As I was in the middle of wrapping, boxing, and packing my stuff several weekends ago, I heard the aforementioned tune which featured a line that made me smile and think, "Man, there sure is."

[There is something exciting about leaving everything behind... Something about having everything you think you'll ever need - sitting in the seat next to you.]

The past few weeks left me in a cloud of dust, boxes, bubblewrap, and organized piles (e.g. clothes to pack, clothes to put in storage, stuff to send home, "eeek-why-did-I-keep that?" trash pile, Salvation Army donations, etc.). I found an article from the Improper Bostonian, Newcomer's edition - October 7, 2003, that I saved. Wondered why for a second... and then realized the reason after reading the article again:

It was funny because it was relevant, or relevant because it was funny....

Jonathan Soroff, of the Improper could not have been more right on with these 10 things. There's more Bostonisms out there to exploit - but in relating to most of these, I realized that yes... there's our nature of complaining about the weather, George Steinbrenner's plot to destroy baseball, and everything else that happens within this place. With these 10 characteristics in mind (along my Boston-tested driving skills) I hope California will take me in anyway.

On Googling and Going the Distance

2006-06-18T22:36:00.000-07:00

JP Morgan Corporate Challenge, Boston: June 15, 2006
3.5 miles, My Finish time: (can't remember)

It was a bit of a warm day to have ran this race last Thursday. This event usually pulls in most corporate hounds around Boston/Metro areas to show camaraderie in crossing that finish line, or scoping out other competitor companies in the mix. What's more amazing is that the real draw to this race is the second extension: a race to any of the bars downtown. Venues are packed - even more amazing is that you scan the crowd and find runners in sweaty shirts and shorts and sneakers enjoying the post-run brew (or two). Same people who probably run companies and manage projects during the day in their sharp suits.

Companies opt to have their uniform shirts made, and possibly be entered in the shirt contest for the most creative ones. There were the standard company-motivation styles ("Well-trained, well-managed, well-run...." ) or the ones that need a re-organization in the originality department ("ITC u later!" or "UBC u later!").

Being in the search marketing industry leaves you with a good amount of room for cheekiness. Stories were abound amongst my co-workers about how they got stopped while running by someone who read our shirts, laughed and asked "Where are you guys located? That shirt - too funny." The front has the standard company logo and colors. The back of our shirts? A caption that left Mr. Runner "OTC u at the finish line!" in a cloud of dust:

"Sometimes, when I'm alone.... I Google myself."

The Roam Chronicles: You say ‘St. Maarten’… I say ‘St. Martin’

2006-06-11T21:05:00.000-07:00

In the background: Sun is Shining, by Finley Quaye

No, we didn’t call the whole thing off. My sister, after having last minute situation about entry requirements, pulled through. If not for this week, I don’t know when I’ll be able to actually take a vacation next. The weather forecasts said some rain and thunderstorms were expected for the duration of our trip. Great. Just great.

I flew into St. Juliana Airport on the Dutch side and caught a glimpse of the aquamarine waters before we landed. Got my second wind after a night of no-sleep and a layover of interesting proportions at Newark Liberty. The “friendly island,” as St. Maarten is dubbed as – was going through a string of days in heat and humidity. The reported rains held off and the sun left me in a color of burnt coffee by the time I headed back to Boston.

Interesting concept of having 37 square miles of an island divided into two territories: The French Side and the Dutch Side. We stayed in Philippsburg and frequented Simpson Bay and Maho Beach, however I favored the French side spots more. It was interesting how we would drive through St. Maarten, passed a few signs leading us to Baie Oriental and the next thing we knew, we were in St. Martin. While each side had had similarities, the difference – conditional on some areas – can also be noted. The architecture of the villas in St. Martin were more distinctly European. Fine dining and gourmet cuisine was more prevalent in St. Martin, while St. Maarten houses Front Street (for the shopping fiends) and the recommended bars and clubs.

On the drive to Orient Bay one afternoon, I asked my sister, “You heard about this beach, right? It’s naturalist beach and all…?” She shrugged halfheartedly. Not everyone was lacking their tops when we get there, but there is still that slight disorientation especially when you get asked directions by someone who has a smile, a cowboy hat and an evenly tanned twin set. It was a beautiful beach, really – my favorite amongst the ones we tried – because of the sand quality and the water sports.

Back at Maho Beach for our last night – we had dinner at Bliss, a beautiful restaurant-bar by the airport and the beach. As one enters past the gates, there is a pool with lounge areas that has access to the beach. Further into the dining room, there is a larger patio featuring booths with canopies and spectacular views of the ocean. Whenever a plane flies it, it looks almost as if they’re going to ram right into the place. As if the menu wasn’t exciting enough.

It was a relaxing trip, but the heat became too constricting halfway through the week. Could it be an indication of my city-dwelling nature that I do not see myself being on an island for over a string of 1-2 weeks before going stir-crazy? When asked whether or not I will go back… that’s a solid ‘Maybe.’ No compelling reason to, other than to try the famed Guavaberry Liquor (which because of pure procrastination was not able to do so before flying out.) and enjoy having a routine of devouring sweet crepes in the middle of the day.

My(ad)Space: Billboards Ridiculi?

2006-05-31T19:21:00.000-07:00

In the background: Paperback Bible (Ocean of Confusion album), by Screaming Trees

Adrants reports on this huge Adidas advertising board over a bridge construction site enroute to the Munich airport (More pictures. details, etc. here). Amazing: That which is dubbed European culture is not so without football. Creative way of covering what would have been another structural eyesore until it is completed and functional (bridge construction in-progress)

And I thought the Boston Red Sox fans monopolize the top spot for sport team worship.

Billboard Attention Deficit Disorder (BADD)

Condition is said to be stemming from bad traffic conditions, congested highways, and the pursuit of more cost-efficient resources for promotion. Reportedly most widespread in Manila, where, 1) Long commute times equal to a much needed source of entertainment, and 2) Product placement in local movies have not quite taken off. Yet.

Manila Billboards: Which face would launch a thousand ships this time around (or cause a huge chain reaction accident)? Aside from being a driving hazard, they surely feed into the stereotypes, ridiculous standards, and insecurities in the society ("My damn brown skin - how do I lighten up to be like that mestiza who seems happy wearing a Petit Monde shirt?")

Bane or Benefit? The issue of billboards have been featured and debated on time and again. Carlos Celdran pointed out scenarios that can only happen in the Philippines. (See October 26, 2006 Post)

2006-05-29T00:22:00.000-07:00

Interesting-things-found-from-the-packing-project, #1: Before taking down my corkboard, I thought I'd take a picture of the organized mess that it was. I came across this postcard on one of my files; it was from an artist who had her work exibited in Bolyston, early last year. Shunsuke Mizumoto, www.portfolios.com/shunsukemizumoto - I remember admiring her work that day, before the morning coffee even got a chance to take into effect.

iForgot

2006-05-28T23:08:00.000-07:00

In the background: Say What You Want (some soundtrack), by Texas

Most of this Memorial Day weekend is spent on packing/re-organizing/discarding stuff that I have accumulated since the last move.

Here's a personal challenge: Trying to do as much as I can, hitting on items I wanted to accomplish per day - without looking at my San Francisco moving checklist. After a while, I do revisit said list, "Okay... uhhm, did that.... yup.... (gosh darn) it, forgot that one!"

May left me in a bit of a high after securing a lease in San Francisco a couple of weeks back. I found the rental market to be a bit different out west than here in Boston: Inventory for 2 months out - July - was hard to come by. It was a task trying to present my case to the property managers who want to rent spaces here-and-now... They'll have inventory in July - but apparently can't hold it for me in the 1.5 month timeframe.

Struck luck: Was able to find a place in Lower Pacific Heights, near key areas in the city apart from nice neighborhoods (Japantown, where the street signs have Kanji translations). I start renting middle of June... even though I don't get there until the end of that month. Unfortunately in this situation, I am at the mercy of the landlords and therefore not in whining- control (when it comes to renting, are we ever?).

Wikipedia reports Larry Page and Sergey Brin could possibly be up the street.

I was reminded of how much harder it was to try and determine which items would be put in the boxes, which are the ones that need to be left behind for Salvation Army, and what's to be thrown out completely (rest assured, no acid wash jeans will be transported across coasts). Paperwork Organization Dilemma: While I have tried many times before to have one key place to locate important documents, I was always wary about writing passcodes and log-in information to various online accounts I do not use often. Consequently, I would rack my brain for what obscure password I might have used for one area, only to finish 3 attempts with a "hmmph!" and a clicked Forgot your password? text link. Thanks to iTunes, some mileage programs, etc... I still was able to access the sites (with 6 emails from their trusty log-in assistance departments). Although I think my "What's your favorite song as a child?" p-word clue would need to be revised.

On that note, might be good to hold on to that clipboard of items that I need to check off... as I complete them. Just a thought.

Burmese Idol

2006-05-09T22:25:00.000-07:00

In the background: Trouble Sleeping (Let There Be Morning album), by The Perishers

Chin-lone: Traditional sport of Myanmar (Burma). Chinlone is a combination of sport and dance... a team sport with no opposting team... the focus is not on who wins, but on how beautifully the moves are executed.

This show of talent gets my vote.

Out of the [Pandora] Box

2006-05-07T21:07:00.000-07:00

In the background: Dream Machine, Downtempo Mix (Hotel Costes 8), by Mark Farina & Sean Hayes

I have been a fan of Pandora since it was introduced to me by a friend, to whom I ranted on about a particular online station that put in a Gametap ad every other song. Since my initial Pandora experience, I had told at least 15 people about it; I have posted on their blog and gave my kudos to the site's creators; I have also purchased albums/tunes initially heard from this medium that have made it to my everyday sountrack.

The Music Genome Project is quite an endeavor. A group of music enthusiasts and analysts, etc. came together in 2000 to gather, listen, and analyze albums, artists, and songs. This growing collection has been then tagged "genes" or musical attributes (e.g. melody, harmony, instrumentation, etc.) that Tim Westergren and company identified - therefore, providing the ability to map which music can be connected to songs and artists based on shared quality and aforementioned attributes.

Enter the birth of Pandora.

One morning, I was enjoying the selection coming through my Morcheeba Station - with songs coming in from Morcheeba, Thievery Corporation, Portishead, Groove Armada, etc. Good sounds to keep me sane enough, and not too intrusive - as I trudge through the dictates of the daily grind.

As I heard the initial riff of the next song, I stopped - questioning what I was hearing. Frantic keyboard typing stopped.... I clicked on the Pandora tab and I sure wasn't imagining it: They're playing "Can't Fight This Feeling," by REO Speedwagon.

Before I go to the Guide Us (Oh, I will...) section and quickly choose the Thumbs Down option, I opted for the Why is this song playing? option to get answers. I was told that, "based on what you've told us so far... this track features the subtle use of harmony, instrumentation, etc."

And this is one reason why the word needs to get around and all those who acknowledge music to be a huge part of their existence need to take part. To finish my REO Suckswagon story, I eventually clicked on the Thumbs Down and got a confirmation apology: "Sorry about that. We'll try something else and will not play that song again on this station."

Yes, I will still listen to Pandora and yes - I still think the Music Genome Project is one of those great ideas that I wish I came up with. There are still improvements to be made, and therefore the creators need our input. (See May 02, 2006 Post: Welcome to the Music Genome Project on this blog for Tom's explanation) That is unless you're okay with having Whitney Houston's "It's Not Right But It's Okay" be in your Massive Attack station (good heavens - or in any station for that matter).

525,600 Minutes

2006-03-24T08:11:00.000-08:00

... How do you measure, measure a year? In daylights, in sunsets, in cups of coffee... in inches, in miles, in laughter, in strife.

[Insert age here] years... and counting. All through 2005, unto this day - I can very well say it had been a good year, in spite of some trivial things I might have ranted about. Trivial, I say now while looking at everything in perspective - because feel I have been blessed with changes and opportunities that were never readily availble to me in the past 4-5 years or so. The concept of turning another year older has lost its luster and, apart from some who find it to be an opportunity to imbibe strong cocktails and be incoherent without the shame, has even grown to be feared in some circles. I say, fear nothing... bring on my birthday, world - but hold off on the wrinkles.

Some key highlights of the previous year - most of which were not mentioned in previous blog posts:

The power of green - received permanent residence status. That card may be anything but green, but nothing could crush me the day that the postmaster dropped this wonderful news in a letter.

Hinahanap- hanap kita, Manila - For the first time in 5 years, February 2005 marked my first trip in a long while (5 years) back to the homeland. The unbearable traffic and equally intolerable humidity was received with open arms - I didn't mind, knowing I'll be seeing sunsets like this.

Transition nation - The hotel industry gig was good while it lasted. Now that I have a thicker hide after having weathered severe personalities and equally daunting event planning scenarios, it is great to be in search marketing - avenue dubbed as one steadily shaking up what was the comfortable realm of traditional advertising.

"How to say... humble genius?" - Haruki Murakami reads at MIT. I have been asked why I didn't get to blog about this, since I was planning for a month prior to the actual event and this was one of the biggest events thus far with regards to my literary preoccupations. Emily informed me of this over the phone - I was at work, so had to stiffle a scream. In his works that I have read - I have nothing but admiration for a man whose thought process I'd like to analyze for a psychology thesis. No one else has the ability to incorporate a Sheep Man, and the iterations of contemporary jazz tunes and get away with it. For someone whose work is widely read and popularly translated, it adds to his good qualities the lack of arrogance and (somewhat self-deprecating) humor.

A plan, seven years in the making - Beantown is a great city: I'll never cheer for any other sports hometeams, and I will most likely never cuss in traffic in other places than I do here. I miss it already before I even fill the first packaging box. In 2005 - I was given that opportunity (one that I had to carefully deliberate on - nevertheless, signed up for) to head to San Francisco for July 2006 (2 months and counting)... I told my family over the West side that "I will be heading there soon" - seven years back.

Concertography (in connection to this past post) - Jazz Fest last year just set me off through a series of live shows - my lifeblood still, actually - as there is nothing comparable to being a part of such a setting where one is more connected to the music heard from the stage - instead of the speakerbox. Ticketstubs from '05 - early '06: U2, Dave Matthews Band (July and December), Our Lady Peace, Garbage, Pixies, Tori Amos.... several smaller outdoor/cafe venues, etc. (Raseeka, did I miss anything?)

Climb Every (indoor rock climbing) Mountain: When Lena intoduced me to this new gig, I got into it and became even more enthused to get better - this motivation having stemmed after my recovery on that initial climb that resulted to me being one sore pulp. At least it will get me through until the waves are to be tackled again, or when it's not too cold to be outside running (I heart running but I hate treadmills). And I quote my friend from rowing, "What obscure sport will you tackle next? Curling?" How about another point to ponder, from my mom: "Why do you have be involved in such masculine sport activities?" Sure, ma - because I'd look really good in a tutu.

My friends are doing great with their careers and relationships (2 weddings). My family and relatives back home are all well in spite of the usual stress inducing factors. I learned new things and been humbled by the ones I have yet to be completely familiar with. I had to carry on with the usual decisions day-to-day while in a constant mindset towards that goal of eliminating chaos - only to realize I can welcome it every once in a while.

So, yes - what a year it has been indeed.

Going... Going... Saigon

2006-03-21T21:48:00.000-08:00

"So, this is the part when you admit that you're scared and you're second-guessing yourself for having decided on doing this."

My friend, Marc is scheduled to fly to Asia tomorrow morning. He will be in Hong Kong for a couple of weeks (brat) before heading to Vietnam (Hanoi - I just borrowed the Saigon title from his party evite) to start a new life after giving up a rather comfortable one here. 'Twas the night before his flight when we were talking and revisiting his reasons for moving, worst case scenarios, people to be missed, and the past 2+ years of us hanging out, venting, annoying each other - all the things that played into our odd dynamic.

"Of course I am scared," he admits. Hearing this gave me a sigh of relief - even with what you have achieved for yourself and the amazing connections you have made in the numerous countries and places you have trekked, Marc - good to know you're still human.

This is what he had always wanted and planned for - and the motivation outweighs that slight moment of uncertainty. It will not be the same: Big shoes to fill on those wise-ass comments you throw out every so often that makes us cower and mutter to ourselves: "Oh, no he didn't..."

Not that we have to remind you, Marc, but you will be missed. Don't be gone pho long.

Photo credits: www.richard-seaman/Travel/Vietnam
Title Credits: Evite for the going-away party, by Eric G.

The Daily Gripe

2006-03-19T20:49:00.000-08:00

Smushbush Toy and the Easy Button

News last week featured reports of President George Bush's approval rating at an all time low. With a collapsed deal with Dubai Ports World and the 3-year (going on 4) anniversary of the Iraq war, this may hold true:

The Staples Easy Button: Perhaps not just for the common-folk.

* * *

Help a Sistah Out

I have been on hold for over 5 minutes. "We value your business. Please continue to hold." Well, I had no choice but to do as the calm woman's voice told me to. This was the 2nd time I was trying to get an update from [financial institution] on some ordered gift cards several months ago that were not received.

And then a human's voice! "Thank you for calling [financial institution], may I have your ***** and your ***** for verification purposes please?"

I obeyed. I once again narrated my situation - that I am not to purchase anything, I just want to know the status of those cards, who dropped the ball, was my tracking number bogus, etc. Without having to narrate the entire story details here, the voice on the other line kept on apologizing and saying that "I understand your situation, unfortunately..." Sure, you understand my situation - you just can't help me. I bet there's some sort of index card cheat sheet on your cube guiding you on how to deal with callers at the cusp of agony and anger....

Hmm.

I let him talk some more - and was throwing some harmless questions just to hear him speak. There was a hint of an accent there that I thought: Could it be...? I cut him off mid-sentence.

"Pinoy ka ba?"

He stopped. Silence. Obviously startled but managed a, "Uh, yes ma'am." I just asked him if he was Filipino to which he confirmed what I thought (while shouldn't be a surprise): I got diverted to a call center in Manila, Philippines.

"Pakiusap lang...." I talked to him in Taglish and pleaded my case. With all the kind juices left of me, I asked that he help me out. He was still a bit shaken up that I threw the language-nationality card at him. I was put on hold again twice, on both occasions he said he escalated it to the manager, but to no avail. Third time I got the hold music, I put the phone down (or slammed it, details are vague now).

The spirit of brotherhood - at least in this instance, did not get me too far.

* * *

Language Confusionism

I was asked once: "When you're in thought, do you think in English, or Filipino?"

At that point, I just stopped and was letting the question sink in. When - in the course of over nine years in the US, did I think predominantly in English? I grew up in the Philippines - but learning on Sesame Street (not dubbed over with any other language as they have done in several countries), so I doubt this recent realization is a betrayal. Either way, for a beautiful place coined as the Pearl of the Orient Seas, this language conundrum leaves us in need of some polishing.

The Half-Marathon and the Neverending Mile

2006-03-14T20:36:00.000-08:00

In the background: Gone for Good (Chutes too Narrow album), by The Shins

With nothing but hopes, dreams and a dash of reluctance to get by - I did run and finish it.

Boston's Run to Remember
Sunday, March 12, 2006, 8:15am

Race #: 2226
Net Time: 2:09:03
Pace: 9:51

I almost decided not to do this: No formal long-distance training- the most that I did for one run session is 7 miles.... Problematic knees.... Need to finish leftover work from the entire week prior spent on the left coast. There were numerous excuses to list, but I gained a second wind of determination by Saturday afternoon. Coerced a friend to join me for a pre-race carb overload of pasta and ended my Saturday night early.

Headed for the Seaport area at 7am. I was heading to the World Trade Center to check the exhibit halls when I ran into Dave. Pleasant surprise - I guess it's not just me amongst my crazy lot of friends who opted to forgo the normal routine of sleeping in on a Sunday morning. Meant to meet up with another friend racing that day, but got sidetracked and just made it in time to position myself at my designated pace section.

Got my running tunes lined up... started the race. Boston and the entire course was a great location choice - heading into the downtown route, the financial district skyline loomed above. If I didn't worry to much, I could have enjoyed that sight even more. The course weaved through historic portions of Boston and Cambridge, and apart from a few hills (placed at very crucial points) - it was relatively flat.

By Mile 5, my right knee started hurting and paid it no mind.
Mile 7: Sharp pains whenever I bended.
Mile 9: Still painful, now numb - with some sort of muscle strain on the upper right thigh. At this point, I had to slow down... even walk for a couple of minutes. It will be too scarring for my pride if I don't finish this. Went to the sidewalk and stretched for a little bit - but determined to cross that line.
Mile 11: Not sure what mindset I was on - despite the pain... I was able to plug through. Few more miles, I thought. But why does it seem like it's taking forever to get to Mile 12?
Mile 13(?): Hits from the iPod... this song came on -
This could be the very minute, I know where I'm alive. All these places feel like home.

My friend, Kathleen, who also ran that day - had a good point: "Who's bright idea was it to put that hill on that last mile to the finish line?" I was thinking of that same thing as I remember seeing the blue Finish Line marker in the horizon. This bridge connecting downtown Boston to the Seaport area could have been a nice, flat quarter of a mile - but no. Some bright set of engineers they commissioned for the job, really. So close, yet so far: this was a longest mile of all them. My feet picked up speed and everything else was white noise for a brief moment.

Then I crossed over. Stopped, and realized I could not feel my legs. I relaxed for a few... just to get re-oriented before heading to the event hall at the World Trade Center. As soon as I got over that - I was brave enough to think: I just really ran 13.1 miles. A seasoned marathon runner might read this and have a chuckle, but when the sense of pride came in, I thought: Bring it on - give me that other half to run!

My knee is still screaming bloody murder, but I wish to believe it's all worth it. I've said it once before: No better way to roam Boston and say goodbye to what had become for me, not quite home - but somewhere relatively close.

Speaking of craziness and inflicting pain on oneself, anybody interested in signing up for this race with me next year?

Photo credits: www.bostonsruntoremember.org

The Roam Chronicles: Mojitos en Miami

2006-03-05T08:36:00.000-08:00

In the background: Radiation Vibe (No Word from Tom album), by Hem

Miami Beach, Florida. February 3-6, 2006

"We're going! I need to be somewhere sunny right now!" Em whined to me as we endured mid-January winter blues.
"Sure, why not? San Diego may have some good deals... Puerto Rico even? My schedule might free up after towards the end of the month (it's amazing how I try to convince myself of such thoughts)." It was an interested, yet half-hearted response that came from me at that time.
No less than 2 days later - she spams and phone-tags me with flight and package options. Wow- she really wants to be anywhere but here. I told her that as long as it's not over a certain amount, that's fine

January, 17th I get an email:
"Charmaine, we're going to fabulous Miami Beach!"

We are?

We did. Last time I was there, I didn't think it was anything special. Sure; sun, sand, Spanish-speaking beautiful people, but not compelling enough for me to pack up and go for another weekender before. As we got nearer the date and the weather got colder - I was getting more convinced that the Miami trip will be a good thing for much needed catching up with Emily.

Gotta love JetBlue... but not on the date of our flight. Storms in Tampa hindered us from flying out on time - not because Miami was also being hit, but because the plane we were going to use was delayed from flying out of Florida. We were stuck in the airport for 7 hours. In Boston. Near my address - 15 minutes - from Cambridge. I looked around and thought that it was actually a good thing to have experienced this. Always have seen/heard stories before where people were stranded and have sought sleeping comfort on these god-awful airport chairs.

3am - Got on the plane for probably the most turbulent 3-hour ride I have ever experienced. Was too tired to be scared.... Viva Fort Lauderdale! Took a cab to The Palms Hotel and psyched ourselves for some sun.

Not.

Torrential downpours. After a quick nap - had a long lunch with Em, chatting away as the rain pelted on the tarp covering the veranda. I truly did enjoy it- We saw the outline of the palm trees and the ocean ahead, landscaped gardens and all - blurred by the rain. No better time than then, or so it seemed, to have a (er..3. Each.) Mojito. Dinner later that day at Ola was one of the best ever - and unfortunately the price was reflective of that as well. Had full intentions of hitting some bars after, but when we got back to the hotel to re-group before doing so, we ended up passing out and calling it a night - by 11:00pm.

Finally some sunshine next day. Sunday was spent on the beach, taking time to just relax. I smothered on the the sunblock while Em decided to brave the rays and not put any. It, uh - caught up with her later that day, though. (but I bet the beet red color faded into a nice, toasty bronze...) Superbowl night on Ocean Drive was interesting - despite the uneventful game. Met a couple of people who seemed good for conversation and a few rounds of brew - until some, (uh...) obsessive tendencies came though.

Great time - eventhough I still think Em sabotaged my laptop so that I will not be able to work. All turned out well - and future yearly trips to sunny destinations will be set in stone. Either way, thanks to Em and the short weekender that was... I have also a newfound respect for Cadbury's Fruit and Nut Chocolate bars.*

* Referencing an excerpt from The Secret History of the Pink Carnation, by Lauren Willig. This was Em's selected reading material for the trip.

I Never

2006-02-26T19:21:00.000-08:00

In the background: In the Morning, by The Coral

Run DMC - Did (I) Mean (to) Commit?

With knee problems in the past few months not quite 100% well, and the lack of time to go on a serious training routine. I never... fully understood why I thought I could sign up for a half-marathon and be prepared for it.

March 12, 2006. When I hit the Submit button a few months back on the website for this race, I was determined to make this the race to top the little ones that I ever signed up for in Boston. I was (er...) inspired especially when I played the video of the running route: It was a little over a 13-mile loop covering downtown and Cambridge. Not quite confident to run the Boston Marathon (yet? ever?), so I thought this would do. What other way to say goodbye to the city I've roamed in for - perhaps the most psychologically-formative set of years I've had thus far?
Because a mere despidida shindig with friends would be too easy. March is coming at speed of now, and it had been too cold to run outside, not to mention I will be out of town for a full week prior to the race.

I reckon that I could possibly finish well with no more than muscle soreness and an added layer of pride. However there is also that lingering possibility that I'll be hailing a cab halfway through the course.

What a lovely way to burn.

Top 5 iTunes Running Beats Playlist Mile-Pushers:
1. Fall Behind Me - The Donnas
2. Going the Distance - Cake
3. Cold Hard B**** - Jet
4. Beautiful Ones - Suede
5. Praise You - Fat Boy Slim , or Float On - Modest Mouse (Both usulally timed towards the near end of a run.)

People are Strange: A Study in the Rude

I never... realized that such people existed. Well, alright - I used to be in the hotel industry and yes, it was rewarding to meet a variety of people and personalities. There were the notable ones who were delightful to work with - and there were ones who were... not (darn Euphemism Rolodex badlly needs to be updated).

Thursday night: My friend and I decided to catch up over some drinks, etc. at supposedly one of the most (?) revered (translate: expensive, semi-stuffy) establishments in the area. Headed for the bar, populated with several after-work sanity hounds, and seemingly regular Boston folk. Typical to have one seat in between parties: We nicely requested a party of two women if they may kindly move one seat, in order for us to be situated. One lady was willing to do so but her friend, Ms. Aquanet Gone-Wrong, whose cheap purse and lint-lined coat was taking the real estate Kam I requested for, was not but moved anyway in defeat.

We thanked them profusely. Looked the kind lady in the eye and she smiled back... but Ms. Holy Badhair-day sighed heavily and did not even look at me, even as I was staring longer than necessary as I aimed for eye-contact. None. Later on, we noticed they ordered dinner. Evil thought: "We should have asked them to move just before she took a hungry stab at her order."

Sunday Bloody Sunday: Not sure why - I have steered clear of malls for quite some time now, and when I do go, it's for one particular item, 20 minutes... out of the garage. No clear aversion or anything, just no compelling reason to go lately. And yet I found myself 35 minutes out of the city over at the South Shore Plaza - I had to bring a package to a family friend who lived near that area. Charmaine, the Courier walked through the Filene's entrance. A huge liquidation sale was apparently going on. Great - I was in the market for a new suitcase anyway. After a brief meeting with my auntie - I paid for my selection: 50% off what would have been a $(whaat, I can't afford that!) to $(ok, that's do-able.).

I thought I'd go around for a little bit, and see what Visa might want me to bring home. I walked into Express and looked over some of their new line of outfits. Lukewarm interest. As I was walking towards the exit, new luggage in tow, a group of 3 women were meeting me head on. Not single file, mind you. So I semi-audibly said an excuse me - which apparently was not heard because Ms. She Thinks Shealldat said a loud "Excuse You!" as I walked past. Shrugged it off.

Walked in another store.... made a purchase on this one and headed out the door again. Deja freakin vu: there they are again. Only this time:

Ms. Thang: Ugh! It's her and her f* luggage.
Me: (I started to see red.... Turned around to her and) I'm sorry (I wasn't). Did you say something? About anything you had a problem with? (Two steps forward)
Ms. Thang: What? I said it's you and your luggage! Whatcha you gonna do 'bout it? (No lie, this was how she said it. Can you picture her neck moving. No finger snapping, though. Otherwise I would have....)
Me: (Breathe. Mama told me there'll be days like this.) Can't even tell it to my face. What am I going to do? Nothing. (me walking away) Have a nice life. (or something to that effect.)
Ms. Thang: I will!
Me: (Dismissively) Not with that attitude, you won't.

Are we there yet?

I never... thought I would stop complaining about this. These past two days were dubbed as New England's coldest weather days for 2006, so far. My toes are frozen as I finish this blog post.

California, here I come.

The Roam Chronicles: San Francisco Diaries, Version 1.06

2006-01-29T20:17:00.000-08:00

In the Background: Feelin' Good (Six Feet Under Original TV Soundtrack), by Nina Simone

January 20th - 24th, 2006

*For this trip and for the upcoming move, I gave in and purchased this Bay Area guide for newbies.

After being ragged on for my industrial-sized Samsonite hard case, my friends/co-workers wished me well for this trip, which was meant to be a mix of work and play/roam. Was heading to San Francisco on the Friday afternoon of January 2oth, when the last minute preparations left me a bit hectic. Calmness followed soon thereafter - after, that is, the mere 3o-minute window in line for security check pre-boarding.

I got into the city around 7pm, having mentally planned out my weekend agenda in my head through the shuttle ride. Finally arrived at the hotel, situated conveniently on Geary Street, by Union Square- everything I needed was within a 5 block (or so) radius.

Always have loved this city: It always feels familiar and new at the same time, most everytime I visit. I walked up and down the streets/hills and silently mused at how defined my calves will be if I get into this routine when I move here. Talk of weather overrated?: It was 65 degrees, on average and I was warm in my light overcoat. In January. I'm still from Boston, so I refuse to hear from anybody the sheer triviality of why I was beaming about this.

A Tale of Two Cities

Boston and San Francisco, from what I have heard once (and actually once again on this trip), are supposedly "sister cities," due to familar culture, general economy and social structures. (Not to mention that they are consistently in the top 10 lists of sorts: Most Expensive, Riskiest Housing Markets, etc.) Therefore, this billboard promoting travel between coasts should not be all too surprising, right?

Roam

I attempted to mix in some play time with the work weekend. Saturday afternoon, after hopping from one coffee shop to another in the pursuit of a wi-fi connection, I welcomed several servings of strong non-Starbucks brews and good conversation (something that I find to come easily among most Bay Area folk.). I was not able to go to as many prospective residential areas as I aimed for, but did get a better idea of what some areas have to offer over others.

1. Pacific Heights / Marnina / Cow Hollow
[Craigslist's Current Average Rent for a 1BDR or Studio: $1850)]
From most of the people whom I have asked, in terms of the best area to live within the SF City radius is Pac Heights.... and I could see why. Beautiful houses, pockets of nice shops, easy access to the city, fun bars. Cousins treated me to drinks/dinner at Ace Wasabi's Rock and Roll Sushi. One bite of that macadamia crusted kamikaze roll (?)... (Argh. Jen, what was the name of that sushi?!) and you're hooked (or hit with menu amnesia). Right next to our table was actually another transplant from Boston. He apparently moved to San Fran after having had enough of the east coast... but was just visiting California and currently residing in Sidney. Funny how Massholes (his words, not mine) gravitate towards each other.

Art-deco high rises, houses with hidden gardens and stylish interior, relatively high-end range of neighbors, and your quintessential corner pattiserie. What's holding me back, aside from the anticipated sticker shock? While it is considered to be one of the most beautiful, lively areas to live in, as reflective of average rent - doesn't negate the fact that it used to be a landfill, primarily from the debris caused by earthquake and fire. Homes were renovated in the 1920's, only to have a similar fate hit the town on 1989.

The Handbook says: "Following the disaster, many of the old-timers high-tailed it away from the landfill and young people, perhaps less cognizant of their own mortality, moved in, creating a vibrant area along Chesnut Street...."

2. Sunset District
A comfortable city near the UCSF campus, a short drive to Ocean Beach, wonderful views... next door to Golden Gate Park where I found myself possibly running around as I do by Charles River.... beautiful, relatively kinder-priced neighborhood and wonderful cafes - I thought I found the place to be.

That until I was told of the following reasons:
* While it is still within the realm of San Francisco cities, it is quite far to where I need to be for work (Downtown, SOMA area).
* Suburb-like quiet area (even with the University around?)
* Dubbed to be the foggiest area, colder than most by the bay. The views are stunning as soon as the fog lifts, supposedly - but living here means that I cannot quite give my thick wool sweaters to Salvation Army just yet.

Walked around Golden Gate Park on Sunday afternoon and asked a kind lady for directions where to best take picures of the bridge. Pat Preble was in the middle of taking photos of trees and light, when I interrupted. We walked towards where good scenic areas might be and talked about art, her Open Studio online, an eye for camera angles and Boston/San Francisco being sister cities. Mentioned how talkative New York transplants are in the area and northerners seem to be more aloof. Some are friendly, I said... "A very select few."

3. North Beach
My own tradition: Get a book from the City Lights Bookstore every time I vist. This time around, I picked up another one by Milan Kundera.

Not a bad thought to wake up to the aroma of foccacia bread baking in the morning. Newspaper in hand, stroll down a local coffee shop that serves fresh brew without the all-too-familiar green and brown cup and sleeve. Not feeling the usual eggs-bacon-toast kind of breakfast? Walk 2 blocks to Montgomery and catch dimsum in Chinatown. I don't think I'll be needing a car here - everything I need seems to be within 2 (olive oil and garlic scented) blocks. The culture that was at North Beach still remained to this day, some percentage of it that is... for while the general feel of the area spells of the beat generation that once populated it - I did not find a lot of beret-and-birkenstock wearing townfolk screaming "Down with mainstream ideology!"

* Eh... Used Whaat?

So why not North Beach? I need that balance of quiet and activity. Jazz bars, restuarants, Chinese New Year's Day (week long!) Parades - sounds appealing... not on days when I feel like winding down. Of course, there's also the $$$ reason and the cah pahking issue.

I still have a few areas that I need to look into: Lower Nob Hill, South of Market, Russian Hill (Holy high hills on this area! Imagine.... I'll roll back to the bottom on my way back home from a quick trip to the convenience store. ) It is all starting to feel real - that a change is to happen soon. Excited, but still somewhat in denial to start a countdown. Knowing me, June 2006 will roll around before I know it and I'll still be asking someone to pass the Rice-a-Roni.

In Puris Naturalibus... Veritas

2006-01-16T18:42:00.000-08:00

In the background: Little District (Sublime Acoustic: Bradley Nowell & Friends album), by Sublime

It was a pleasantly (uncharacteristically) warm January night in Cambridge last Friday. After resorting ourselves to sore muscle arms from rock climbing, we attacked some good pizza, etc. at Cambridge 1.
No, that was not quite enough: Emily and I were on a mission for ice cream. Toscanini's was already closed for the night, but we didn't fret. Plan B dessert places were abound over there, so we headed towards Finale.

We walked past several of the Harvard gates, heard screams and loud cheers. Initally brushed it off as typical college craziness on a Friday night (But Harvard students-future world leaders?! Can it possibly be?). The shouts grew louder to the point we were not able to ignore them. "Let's check out what's going on," Dave suggested as he started to turn that direction. I was impartial and thereby followed, Em remained hesitant.

People just casually milling around Harvard Square had the same idea, and were walking inside the campus in droves. We got closer and placed guesses on what was going on: Dancing? Drinking? Dorm Pranks?...

Streaking?

I got close enough to see signs by some of the streakers, one of which was "I am Naked." Splendid observation, boy. On the topic of observation: You seemed delighted at the crowd of your fully-clothed brethren. Your mental state at that given time, and perhaps back from when this action was decided upon is of utmost interest. Thoughts?

They scheduled a perfect night for it. Not all too cold so as to (er...) alter physical shapes and attributes. However, because it was indeed a warm night, spectators lingered longer and the crowd dispersed later that usual. Typical of university culture, to be doing things such as this and tag it as tradition. I have witnessed streaking back in my old schoolyard, but I recall it was a cold night in March (?)... cold enough that a group of girls had no problem keeping the whipped cream outfits intact. The novelty of the sight was proportional to the current temperature, so I walked away after a few minutes of laughter and slight adulation for those brazen enough for this task.

At some point, it might be a good to research on sociology/psychology studies on the act of streaking and how it plays within a university setting (or outside of that circle), the cognitive process, inner dilemma, along with the possible after-effects [At a bar: "Seth, yes-hi... nice to meet you. You do look awfully familiar.... Oh, the Northeast quad 2 weeks ago (memory hits home)... Right, well look at the time!... Gotta get going, I have this... thing."].

In any case, seeing that made made for an interesting night in Cambridge. At some point in between the books, exams and the papers, a sanity break in whatever form of activity will be well-received by the students. One wonders if John Harvard approves, as his pensive state did not even seem to have stirred.

* Images credits:
www.upfrontezine.com
www.danielchesterfrench.org

Final set

2006-01-02T20:09:00.000-08:00

In the background: Catch My Disease (Awake is the New Sleep), by Ben Lee

... of random musings for 2005. While this will be dated 2006 by the time I get my thoughts (dis)organized, I thought - why not. That year-end review is taking longer than I would have wanted to - and even though I thought I dropped procrastination like a bad habit some time ago (ha!), it is quite a project assessing the previous year.

* * *

New Year's Eve shindig was a mixed bag of the good, the bad and the interesting.

Good: First time in a few years that there was an actual plan to be somewhere, instead of hopping from one place to another and having the bouncer not budge on comping a $20 cover (or was it $5 last year?) even if it's 20 minutes until closing. Also Good: Because I amazingly got over my bah humbug attitude (comment care-of Marc) halfway through the night and partied with 3-inch heels without screaming bloody high shoes at the end. Overall Good: Because it was spent with great friends.

Bad: The champagne was sub-par ($50 clams for tickets and the champagne was not at all "bubbly"), my tonic water lined my throat a lot more that that did. Also bad: An obnoxious friend-of-a-friend who was a bonafide buzz killer. You gotta have one of those on a given night, right? The "bad" clincher: They had to put a restraining order on me when I was insistent on bringing my car - I budged and we all put our fate in the hands of ever-present cab drivers. Ever present, that is - until you really need them. (El)Tony was the brave one to search for a cab as all others huddled in one corner for heat and some sort of cover from the snow. It was a battlefield out there, and I have not had a chance to ask him how many people did he have to maim.

Interesting: Who would steal a wallet on such an occasion? Obviously someone sober enough to be aware, and sick enough to do such a thing. Also interesting: Because I (errhmm...) I mean - we... made new friends.

Here's a snapshot of this said shindig... any idea what's going on here? Neither do I.

* * *

What better way to start the New Year than to make a stupid mistake?

I locked myself out of the apartment.

I was heading out to meet some people for a few drinks that afternoon of January 1st (yes, because apparently the night before was not enough). The door to our apartment requires either a tricky key-turning trick to lock it, or at least three loud door slams. Slammed it once, moment of clarity made me realize my car keys are still inside. Tried to open the door...

The blasted thing locked the first round.

Went downstairs and after some hesitation, rang the doorbell to my first floor neighbors. Allison answered the door and gave her my quick story, eye contact maintained but almost head down in shame. "... so, I'm hoping I kept my back door open earlier and was wondering if I could get through."

What would have been me "just passing through" turned out to be over an hour of talking about a range of things: from other peculiar co-Poplar residents, our building's oddities, Boston University vs. other institutions... and the beauty of cultural differences along with how the ignorance of others makes it even more so.

Allison and Christina were the newest tenants in our 3-family house building. Smart, funny, insightful women... who, like most people these days, have schedules that require more than the 24-hour day cycle. That Sunday afternoon spent chatting turned out to be a great time - not only getting to know them, but learning from their experiences and how it relates to mine. One of the things that we have talked about were misconceptions, as brought about by surface appearances. Stories were traded, comments were made, opinions were shared. Reminded me of this situation that my sister had experienced with her roommates in her first semester in NYU. (transcript extracted from her blog.)

Episode One: I had only 2 hours of sleep the previous night, so obviously I was extremely sleepy that day. I had to read a book of Plato's, but around 10pm, I gave up and just slept. I decided to just wake up around 3am and start studying then. The book, I left beside my pillow.

Around 12:30am, I somehow woke up. I heard them talk.

Roomie 1: (goes to bed, looks at the book) What the hell does she know, reading Plato? (Um, yes, dear roommate. I'm reading it for fun, not for class. Duh!)

Roomie 2: She doesn't f******* know anything. She's from the Philippines.

Roomies: HA, HA, HA, HA. (Yes, roomies we don't hear about books or Plato in the savage mountains of the Phillipines.)

Bottomline: Yes, I somehow got into the apartment through the back door, several sore knuckles- from-knocking after. More so, while there were times that I find it humorous how some mock or misconstrue those outside of their comfortable circles (albeit sometimes not intentionally, which is more unfortunate for such individuals.), it is a constant battle that, on some circumstances, is not all too funny: How do you convince someone (without wanting to drop an anvil on their head first) that not all Filipinos are nannies, etc. and we actually have some pride to show for?

[Side note - Allison initially thought, from the first time we saw each other at the laundry room, that I was from California. Odd. Not that it was any indication of anything.... I didn't tell them of the San Francisco move that afternoon, though. Maybe on another Sunday, when I go to visit them... hopefully not because I got locked out again that time around.]

* * *

New Year's Eve/Day 2006, 3am.... while waiting for a cab by State Street:

O Tannenbaum

2005-12-25T14:28:00.000-08:00

In the background: Northern Sky (Bryter Layter album), by Nick Drake

December 2005, like most recent months, left me in a haze of to-do lists and deadlines. Time is at a pace which I can barely keep up. On a last minute decision - opted to stay local for the Christmas celebration, one spent with good friends and good food. After almost two years of living in Cambridge, Stacey and I decided to break-in the kitchen and host a dinner. Small group of zany, otherwise thoughtful and kind friends.

Lesson learned: Do not give half-hearted invites just to be "nice" to a random person, so as not to be pidgeon-holed into a corner of possibly having said random person over. Such is the trap that dinner-party-hosting virgins fall into. Got away with it and all worked well - at least this time around.

Lesson learned #2: Ensure that every unwanted article is taken off that frozen turkey before hitting the oven. Again, all went well, but Stacey and I had a chuckle as our guests enjoyed the brie, fig spread and tapas appetizers in the living room.

Went to NY last weekend to go see about a tree.... I have been in crowds before, but it was madness around the Rockefeller Center. What's the big deal with a gigantic spruce with lights? And yet so it is... amazing enough for Kim and myself to be staring at the tree for over a minute and just allowing ourselves to be lost among the crowd.

Went out that night and had a great old time at the village... good enough that I wasn't heartbroken when our karaoke plans fell through and I rode the Fung Wah Soul Train bus home with a mild, throbbing headache. Interrogated Denise (right) as to why she left VH1 for this more serious media gig in a news network (which will be unnamed). Man, it was great having this as a conversation starter whenever I find myself in a somewhat impressionable group: "Oh, and a friend of mine works for VH1 as one of the head researchers. I constantly thank her for those wonderful 'I love the [insert decade here]' documentaries! (even though I know that she did not directly get involved with production.)"

There is much to ponder upon: on the year that was, of friends I lost contact with, on family several miles away, on the exhausting PC argument of "Happy Holidays" vs. "Merry Christmas," and what's to come ahead. Several toasts were uttered and maybe a few pounds put on - but a reflective attitude came over me. This will probably last until I finally get to turn that first page of the SF/Bay Area Relocating handbook and start organizing some sort of (gulp) plan.

I'll leave it at that for now and try to gather some semblance of an inspiration to do a later review of the year that was - for what a year it has been indeed.

Look at who joined me for breakfast...

2005-11-28T21:00:00.000-08:00

It was 12 noon or so, but brunch was not scheduled for another 2 hours. I was hungry and just missed a golden opportunity for hearty dimsum - I thought then that coffee and a muffin can't hurt my appetite. (Given my eating patterns, nothing really could.)

The past few weeks have left in in a cloud of dust. Work hours put in, flu bug battled, physical stress ignored, misunderstanding with a good friend, psyche left in somewhat of a disarray (as if I'm not already a psychology poster child) - I barely had time for anything else. So, I sat down and carefully placed my coffee cup on the bench, realized that this was the first time in a long while that I actually just.... stopped.

The Fall season flew by me, like it usually does every year. Before I got a chance to go further with that musing and a little after I broke the top of my pumpkin cream cheese muffin, a squirrel - stockier than most, climbed over the bench and crawled towards my coffee cup. The furry thing just sat there, looking at me. I took out the rest of my muffin and cut up a piece. The squirrel gladly accepted. I didn't mind sharing and after the entire Idaho field of pumpkin pies I ate at Thanksgiving, I should not be eating until St. Patrick's Day anyway.

The squirrel had some sort of a growth on the side of its face, that at first I thought was an injury. A lady walked by, stopped and we both tried to do a diagnosis. Poor thing can't possibly be hurt. Throughout the course of those 15 minutes, I have had a child come by fascinated by the squirrel, an older gentleman offering more food, a Russian tourist who took a picture of the animal (and might have inadvertently gotten me in the background as well), two women - one who commented, "Aww, look who joined her for breakfast..." Oh, and I turned my head for a second to see a duck slipping and sliding on the ice as it moves towards its crew.

I find it almost comical to write this post on that morning's scene, while not really logging in some arguably noteworthy ones in the past weeks. But I suppose this is what happens when you slow down - you notice things that you would otherwise just breeze past. That cold late fall day, I stopped - not so much to smell the roses (there weren't any), but to just sit as life happens around me.

Sunday Coffee and Conversation

2005-10-30T16:33:00.000-08:00

In the background: She Runs Away, by Duncan Sheik

The Way I See It #61
Imagine we are all the same. Imagine we agree about politics, religion and mortality. Imagine we like the same types of music, art, food and coffee. Imagine we all look alike. Sound boring? Differences need not divide us. Embrace diversity. Dignity is everyone's human right.
- Bill Brummel
Documentary filmmaker. His programs focus on human rights issues.

I never really noticed them before. Over five years of consuming brew from the empire Howard Schultz has created, and not once did I pay attention to the quotes on the back of these paper cups (Shame, shame...). I just needed that dose of caffeine, for which that $3.00 (or more) was seemingly money well spent.

Helen and I, while with the intention of doing some studying/reading, were in the middle of a conversation about events of the previous night (Halloween party at Grove St.), when the brown coffee sleeve slipped down my Grande Italian Roast regular coffee. I turned to the cup, and unable to hide my questioning look, she stopped and asked with equal confusion, "What?"

"Have you ever taken note of these quotes before?"

"No, not really? Why - what does yours say?"

[See photo above]

"Interesting, they're supposed to be conversation starters," I said. Wonder how effective these are? Then, again.... we were indeed talking about it at that given time, right? However, I would consider it a bit off if, while trying to mind my business with the aid of a latte, someone would tap me and read Quote #43 from his/her cup and then ask: "So, do you bake?"

Some random triggered conversations I remember having at various Starbucks locations (without the help of their paper cup quotes).

Life of Pi, Yann Martel - Good book, although not completely sold on the story, but was trying to digest it, regardless. A young assistant professor from one of the area universities started by asking what I thought about it so far. I answered. He asked another question, I answered back. Quiet. He talks again. I respond again. There were some psychoanalysis going on.... This exchange contnued and even got to the part where I knew he lived in Hawaii at one point, and I shared that I wasn't originally from Boston. Just before he packed up to leave and after I gave him my email for other book discourses, I was going to ask him to kindly let me get through one chapter.
Inside of Love, Nada Surf - The song came on and immediately caught my attention, as it did the person in front of me. I asked who the artist may be, and he was confident it was Oasis. I disagreed, and talked about Liam Gallagher's trademark manner of whining/singing. I put a bet that it was another group... Sauntered off to the barista and confirmed who it was.
Half-and-Half - and the lack thereof.
Newspaper section trade - Yes, I have the Sunday BostonWorks section. You got Sports there that I can borrow...?
The obnoxious girl on a cellphone walks out of the place after half an hour of her dirty laundry broadcasted at the Boylston location. I muttered to myself, "Gad, the tribe a village over didn't quite hear you, woman." A man juggling several printouts and a laptop chuckled, "Yeah, but someone from another timezone did."

While there does not seem to be any science behind what quote goes to which cup, would it be possible that at the long anticipation of the success for this idea to tip - they just might start assigning the more valuable quotes to the Grande's and Venti's? Sucks for the Tall drinkers who would have to end up with wise words from Jack Handey (which, depending on how you look at it, can be quite valuable as well.).

Not Quite Conversation Worthy?

McSweeney's issued a "list of rejected quotes", some of which I thought were on the money to start at least a 2-hour discourse.

"A clandestine collaboration between Eli Lilly, the federal government, and Starbucks to put Prozac in the coffee? Did you hear anything about that? You're right, it's probably bullshit. You finished reading the Entertainment section yet?"

http://www.mcsweeneys.net/2005/9/1williams.html

What I did learn (something I already knew but not fully realized)...

"... that we're (quite literally) on top of the world at any given place, point, or time. "
Thanks for the quote, crazy H.

[Not verbatim. Truthfully so, isn't it? If you encounter somebody happy enough to proclaim, "I'm on top of the world," you can just tell him/her to get over it, because so are you.]

Say it ain't so

2005-10-26T22:05:00.000-07:00

In the backgroud: Rocketman (live and accoustic), by Jason Mraz

What Blogs Cost American Business
Adage.com reports that in 2005, employees will waste 551,000 years reading them.
http://adage.com/news.cms?newsId=46494

[Really? I wonder if the surplus from all those unused vacations would cancel out that deficit?]

Could it be - that the human nature embedded in that lure to read somebody else's diary, the basic premise on why people read and (most definitely) write blogs? The percentages are split between those who maintain web logs for correspondence/journal purposes, those notable ones that have a very specific angle (e.g. Political, social, cultural etc... or even one focused on wayward Bangkok street dogs), or perhaps those blogs that are a hybrid of both - less structured yet aiming to show some semblance of credibility over the random musings.

(Ehem... Er, throat's dry.)

It is website management for the less tech-savvy. It is convenient and cutting edge. It is a medium fast permeating into that journalism sphere - the fact that the debate of "blogs as journalism" is present only validates the magnitude in which the idea tipped into the core of this culture.

On my first post, my reasons for were stated - and more reasons were added as I trudged on. Blogs are in that same avenue as the advent of sliced bread. But reading them at work? Industry-related ones being reviewed on work time goes toward the education portion of the day, and for that reason I wouldn't consider it wasted time. But if you saw a Pepsi can, which would trigger you to visit the updates on a blog dedicated to that girl in the Pepsi commercial - that remains in question.

2005-10-23T22:41:00.000-07:00

"I wanted change and excitement and too shoot off in all directions myself, like the colored arrows from a Fourth of July rocket."

- Sylvia Plath

Westbound

2005-10-23T21:44:00.000-07:00

Drink up, baby down... are you in or are you out?
Leave your things behind 'cause it's all going off without you.
Excuse me? Too busy writing your tragedy -
These mishaps you bubble-wrap when you've no idea...
What you're like.

So let go, jump in
Well, what are you waiting for?
It's alright, 'cause there's beauty in the breakdown.
So let go, just get in -
Oh, it's so amazing here.
It's alright, 'cause there's beauty in the breakdown.

- (from) Let Go, by Frou Frou

~*~

On Friday, October 21st, 2005...

While it was agreed upon several months ago, and even though most of the careful deliberation was well over with before the leaves turned - it was made official. End of business day last week, I signed on the dotted line with my company and it was formalized.

July 2006 - Not only am I going to be on a different zip code, I'll be on a different coast, timezone and characteristic climate.

Boston is a wonderful city for many reasons, a few clinging on comfort and familiarity. In theory, isn't the west coast known for its welcoming arms? And while it is one of the most favored places in the world, I hope San Francisco, CA would be as kind.

Last call

2005-09-21T21:28:00.000-07:00

In the background: Run (Final Straw album), Snow Patrol

The autumnal equinox slated for September 22, 2005 signals the end of summer. The change of seasons and the turn of weather patterns may not always be the easiest to bear, but it validates the anticipation (spring) and apprehension (winter) paradox within this cycle that keeps us functioning.

(Mentioned this to several friends earlier and I am afraid I ruined what remained of their day.)

Just when I was liking the sand on my toes, it is done. Orange-red colors on the trees, football season, baseball playoffs, Thanksgiving, Halloween.... Bring forth the Fall - my favorite season. In the meantime, while I am able, I'll enjoy the remaining warm days as if it were still summer. This is New England - while a snow shower is quite possible in August, perhaps so will 75-degrees for temperature readings in Mid-October.

Lest we forget

2005-09-11T20:16:00.000-07:00

In the background: Thief (from Happiness... Is not a fish that you can catch), Our Lady Peace

http://www.cnn.com/2005/US/09/11/911.anniversary.ap/index.html

The drones of my job didn't matter as much as what the news coverage was unfolding. Nobody was able to work after the second plane hit, the phones were dead until after a few minutes when my co-workers' families got a hold of each other. The events that followed speaks of the truth: Things are never quite the same.

When 9/11 hit, my working visa was still pending and I was in the process of sending another letter to supplement my application. I was in limbo, and somewhat fearing that I would have to pack my bags out of an approval notice arrival that might have been stalled enroute to my mailbox.

A blessing I am not to forget: I received the said approval notice in October 2001, approximately 2 weeks after the tragedy struck. The miracle scared off the skeptic in me even for a brief moment.

We may never forget where we were exactly, or what we were doing at that particular time. However, it can be easy to lose sight of what had happened. People have moved on somewhat, as we are urged to do so, but it will be wrong to think that these tragedies have rendered us invincible.

Kenneth Feinberg: It's a.... job, but someone's got to do it.

http://www.cbsnews.com/stories/2003/11/07/60minutes/main582529.shtml

[His job is even more complicated because Congress asked him to evaluate each life, instead of just dividing the total amount in the account by the number of deaths. He was given enormous discretion to interpret the hastily written legislation that created the fund, which was designed primarily to protect the airlines whose planes were used in the attacks from ruinous lawsuits.... What's really unusual here is that Feinberg had the guts to publish a chart outlining the expectation of how much money you would get. And for the first time ever the government was in the position of doing comparative values of human lives.]

I have learned that try as you might, sometimes you just won't be able to please everybody. Mr. Feinberg is faced with the responsibility of labeling the worth of lives lost. On most situations with his job, while deemed to be what he was hired for, his judgments have added grief more than relief.

It was a brave move for him to accept such a Herculean task, and I would be somewhat intrigued to know how I would be graded if I were given the position. Without much thought, I crossed the idea off - challenges build your character but I will pass on this one. This just might be in the same circle of jobs that are not favored too much. Which reminds me...

Got to pay that parking ticket. I know it was your job to do so, but damn you meter maid - did you have to get to my car two minutes before I ran to it with more quarters?

Labor Day Weekend, September 2005

2005-09-05T20:58:00.000-07:00

In the background: C'mere (Antics album), by Interpol

[Was too pre-occupied with the plethora of grub on Monday, post beer-mile shindig (non-participant)... otherwise, I would have probably taken a picture of the grill as well. - CM]

Fenway Park: Red Sox vs. Orioles Game #1

White Crest Beach, Wellfleet, MA

Ansel Adams Special Exhibit at the MFA, through 12/31/05

Tuloy pa rin: Wolfmann 1976-2005

2005-09-05T20:03:00.000-07:00

In the background: So Here We Are (Silent Alarm album), by Bloc Party

[Aneurysm (n.), localized dilatation of a blood vessel, particularly an artery, or the heart. An aneurysm may be asymptomatic or it may cause varying symptoms, depending upon its location and size and on whether the expanding mass is pressing on adjacent nerves or vital organs. The weakened arterial walls of an aneurysm are always in danger of sudden rupture, with resulting hemorrhage and death.]

It can be defined several different ways, with several common medical terms, but the common denominator lies in the fact that an aneurysm catches you unaware and it does not matter whether you are 50 or at your mid-twenties prime.

My dear friend Adele's brother Wilfrid "Wolfmann" Hernandez passed away on August 21, 2005 at the age of 28. Articles and tributes have been written in his honor - I, being the Philippines outsider on this circumstance, have been amazed at what I have recently learned about him and his legacy on the Manila music scene.

Several years ago - [elementary school] did not seem that far out in perspective - I rode the same bus to school with Adele and Wilfrid . He was regarded even in Manresa as a talented musician, surely his craft was bound to break out in the scene at some point... and that it did. But such is life and its transient nature - I, along with his circle of musical admirers could only surmise that big things were ahead for him...

But the music would play on, and he will be remembered long after the last riff has reverberated. Tuloy pa rin, Wilfrid.

2005-08-30T20:46:00.000-07:00

April 2005. After the festivities of the Jazz Fest, I came upon this beautiful quad as I roamed the French Quarter two hours prior to my flight back to Boston. I vowed to be back at some point. with a cup of coffee and more time to spare. Maybe at some point... I'll still be able to.

Hurricane fury and human fault

2005-08-30T20:29:00.000-07:00

http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/9063708/

Hurricane Katrina has hit the Gulf Coast and left unfathomable damage in her wake. Mississippi and Alabama had extensive damages that broke records of Camille and all other storms past. New Orleans, endearingly termed the Big Easy - is not having too easy of a time with 80% of their city flooded. With increasing number of missing people, the levees on the brink of breaking and water levels rising with no clear draining outlet, one wonders if there would be much to be jovial about when Mardi Gras would come around next year.

http://today.reuters.com/news/newsArticleSearch.aspx?storyID=27395+31-Aug-2005+RTRS&srch=looting+in+New+Orleans

While some search their loved ones and stand dumbfounded as they find their houses underwater, there are those who take advantage of this situation and break into stores to loot items. TV coverage showed people, apparently unfazed of this disaster, with shopping carts filled to the brim - going through the Wal-Mart aisles like they do any given shopping day. They had no regard to the reporters, nor the handful of law enforcers who remained helpless as they carted merchandise worth hundreds. A reporter tried to talk to a looter and commented indirectly about his disregard to this grave situation. To this, the "shopper" replied: "Times like these, I got do what I can to survive, you know?" He got a New Orleans Saints football jersey and a cart filled with bags of Lay's potato chips.

Nothing but the necessities, huh - Mr. Survivor?

Makes me sick to even imagine this. I pray not, but should I be put in a moment of desperation, I hope to be reminded that karma will come around to haunt me if I gave in. It is appalling that while shock, loss, and recuperation is to be taken on by some, there are those who see opportunities for wrongful gain. There are far bigger effects that this hurricane has - effects in the economy that would transcend the borders of where Katrina landed - most of which will cause chain reactions we are yet to discover. Stealing, while many others suffer through the aftermath adds another layer of severity. Despite all the trouble it brews among humans when used to justify a cause, human nature just cannot be attributed to this.

Eternal soreness of the resolute mind

2005-08-29T19:05:00.000-07:00

In the background: All Thumbs (Blink the Brightest album), by Tracy Bonham

It has been a while since I got a chance to sit, gather my thoughts, and put them in writing. There had been a good number of tasks to be completed, places to go/things to do before the summer is done... and decisions to be made. Many reasons can be attributed to the hiatus - but no reason is worthy enough to be labeled sufficient.

Hail Waves: The Concept of being Maytagged

My last trip to Hawaii is partly responsible for my almost impossible (view point at this time at least - hoping it is temporary) ideal of learning how to surf (Maytag Log #1. See Roam Chronicles). I have been going to several New England locations for the ideal waves, practicing and signing up for lessons that hopefully will land me some sort of board-balancing, and wave selecting skill. The past few weekends had been rough as I tread the disorganized swells of New Hampshire and Wellfleet. Blame it on hurricane season? Unlike the smooth, albeit towering waves of the Pacific Islands - New England beaches are known to have waves that while rarely surpassing chest-high heights, are rough to learn on.

The Wall, NH: I underestimated the Granite State. When I first heard of a surfing in NH, I turned a skeptical ear. Much of what I remember with Hampton Beach was the boardwalk, and the gaudy shops lined with the quintessential tourist shirts and blown-up beach toys. My directions stated that I should drive further through Route 27. There it was - what I believe was dubbed The Wall. I was impressed as the waves were pretty big - at that time, hurricane Irene was heading towards the eastern coast. My "instructor" was a 16 year-old who didn't teach me much except that "it's all about balance." I know that everything in life is about balance, kid. Are you familiar with a checkbook? He took me right into a crowded area where a surfing competition was taking place. On several occasions when I was able to stand up, but not retain my balance - I faced my wipeout fate turned to him as I emerged - only to see him chatting with someone about his afternoon schedule and the [insert expletive here] surfer who was not wearing a leash. I got a bruise and an aching arm from a board that hit me on my right side. Maytag Log #2: Not coming back anytime soon unless the wind direction and wave conditions are the most optimal.

Newport, RI: Attempted twice, but ended up just making them into beach days. Primary reason was the water condition at that time: Waves were crimson red due to high concentration of algae. Did I mention that there were volleyball (men's... sure, and women's) tournaments on both occasions? Maytag Log #3: Newport, RI has many other reasons for me to visit - not necessarily the waves.

Wellfleet, MA: Emily decided to take on surfing for the first time last weekend. Made a day out of it: Brunch, ice cream, driving by the coast and just catching up over the past few weeks worth of activities until we got through the Sagamore. We got to the beach off Marconi and relaxed for a bit - the fog was coming in thick. We could barely see several yards off the shore but the waves were visible enough to know that they were just coming in, one after the other, and from several different directions. (Imagine a herringbone pattern instead of the usual linear wave succession). Ryan (surf teacher) gave us our boards and we headed down the steep dune (which we had to later trek back up to). "The waves look like they're fun," says Ryan as he surveyed the water, to which I say, "Fun, meaning what?" To this he just looked at me and shot a sinister smile. I knew it was going to be a rough day. Maytag Log #4: We spent most of our time trying to get to our point, fighting the waves. Good instruction, however on the surfing basics, etiquette, and technique. I was sore for several days and after this, I'll think twice before I put my poor clothes on the heavy wash cycle. Holy seaweed - there was the entire vegetation of the Atlantic as I peeled off my wetsuit.

Because we thrive on suffering, we went back to the same location the week after. Much calmer waters, smaller and kinder waves this time around. Maytag Log #5: I finally understand what to look for in terms of ideal wind and wave situations, helpful techniques to balance, right of way in catching a wave etc. Caught some waves (albeit still awkwardly) and was reminded of why I wanted to get into surfing to begin with.

I do regret having picked this up rather late in this summer season and in life. Be warned about those Blue Crush girls, for they make it look like this is easy. There are several ways to learn to surf, I suppose - but after the basics, it is all about repetition, discipline, and the acceptance that (at least in the beginning) there will be pain.

2005-08-23T22:02:00.000-07:00

Reflections on the last few days of summer - just when I was starting to get used to my feet being in the sand.

We have come a long way, 'sapiens!

2005-08-03T20:21:00.000-07:00

In the background: A Rush of Blood to the Head, by Coldplay

Look how far we have gone from our homo erectus brothers of lore. Behold, the wonder of evolution and the logic upon which the term "monkey business" alluding to mischievous human conduct stems from. Pray tell, Darwin: Would there be another - perhaps a more advanced - hierarchical ring past this circle of mankind that we belong to?

While I am aware, at least hopeful, that I am beyond 2nd grade reading ability and am more adept to general knowledge than I was several years back-it is easy to be doubtful. Why then, if we have the reported cranial capacity for some coherent thought, did we just suck at Trivia last night?

A bunch of us went to CitySide Bar and Grille for Trivia Night. This was the first that I ever went to and Leigh* warned me that some competitors can get really intense. Presumably, we were facing several BC and Wellesley students who were here for the summer - and maybe some regulars who are familiar with the questions that had already been asked before.

We were placed 2nd to the last at one point - but continued on a tanking pattern thereafter. On one category about art - a Salvador Dali question, nonetheless - I thought here is my chance to actually put money on what I thought would be the one sure answer I can put on the table.

Clue: ... his art and career as a surrealist was spawned by this famous painting featuring melting clocks.

Everybody on our team did the customary looking-at-each-other-what's-the-answer? look. Almighty, I even went to the Dali museum in St. Petersburg - this is money.

CM: I should know this... It's... (tip-of-my-tongue syndrome hits at this moment) Something-something 'dream.' Recurrence of dream?
K: Are you sure?
CM: Not really.... Does any body know? (shrugging of shoulders) I even know what it looks like, (blah, blah)
L: Time's running out, just put in what you think it is.

I decided to wager 5 points with my answer: Recurrence of a Dream

The host calls for the answer sheets. Collects, and then voices out the answer: "The painting by Salvador Dali, with the birth of his signature melting clock is "Persistence of Memory."

I have never experienced such pride-ache (Except last week when this 60+ year old gentleman ran past me around the Charles. I was never able to catch up with him.). Our loss well-justified:
1. The questions for the most part would have seemed easy for someone older and lived the 70's (anti-justification clause: Most of history happened that decade and prior anyway. The years afterward did not put in much in the history time capsule anyway, except for the documentation of horrific 80's fashion).
2. We're not as gung ho as the other contestants who had enough practice already.
3. They keep on messing up our team name and that puts down morale. It's Team "Garret" not "Garnet." Idiot... (Consolation: There was a team last night named "By the Power of Gray Skull")
4. I was not born and raised here. What do I know about US useless trivia culture (I'll use that nationality ticket any given time.)? And where's the Music Category - I'll buy a vowel or two from Vanna White on that one!

We have to go back and redeem ourselves. Before next week, I should have already healed my wounds, freshened my resolve... and practiced trivia questions through Stacey's Cranium boardgame. If the evolution notion proves to be somewhat right, I'm supposed to retain some information as a well-functioning homo sapiens machine should.

Tom Cruise gets it from Lauren Bacall: What's another critic on your list, eh?

Lauren Bacall has strong opinions about Mr. Cruise's recent actions and media appearances.

http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2005/08/01/AR2005080100730.html

And people still wonder why Tom Cruise easily remains a prominent household name... Not that he had done drastic efforts to keep his privacy to begin with. In light of certain behavioral oddities and interview patterns, it had been speculated in an article in Advertising Age that Tom Cruise as "brand" may be dying.

Mr. Cruise - you're engaging yourself in risky (monkey) business.

Thanks also goes to Dave G., who showed me the reasons why Tom Cruise is Nuts.

Pink moon gonna get ye all

2005-08-02T19:10:00.000-07:00

In the background: Place to Be (Pink Moon album), by Nick Drake

*Photo taken at dusk from our deck (7/31/05).

I started writing this post yesterday when the thunderstorms hit. The sky outside was bright with lighting followed by deafening (cliches aside - it really was loud) chorus of thunder. I looked outside and was brought back to how I would approach storms like this back home, circa 1986 (or so). Have not even gotten a chance to fully turn my head back to my laptop when, simultaneously with a bright lighting flash, I heard a *pop* and my screen was blank.

Wave of panic. I tried to switch it back on - it did for a second, but it won't fully reboot. Attempted for several times, no pulse... Eventually resigned to the fact that I will have to tap Dell for that warranty. Amazing how one gets to be dependent on computers and not full realize it. So I sat by the window and watched the storm, quieted by the duet of light and sound as I did as a child - only I was not tugging my mother's arm and asking her a ton of questions this time around.

Next morning, I tried to turn on my laptop again and might have said a prayer as I did - Houston (Cambridge), we're back in business.

Sunday early evening, just right after Stacey and I have talked to our selected 3rd roommate, I went to the deck and tried to just relax. That roommate project is somewhat over - one check on my to-do list (i.e. 300-page manuscript). Looked over towards Fresh Pond and caught the sunset which looked like a pink ball of fire. Surely, it was still the sun - but dusk is at the cusp of day and night anyway. I suddenly recall a discussion about the song Pink Moon, by Nick Drake. Imagine a scene where 2-3 people are trying to deconstruct a 2-minute song with lyrics that do not go past a full stanza (we might have had this discourse over some wine, not certain) - quite comical, albeit I remembered it to be insightful.

Blame it on the power of advertising to lure industry enthusiasts and involuntary audiences alike. The first time I saw the Volkswagen Cabrio commercial - I was determined to know what that song was and grab the album next chance I get. This was pre-Googlism fever, so I looked into the Arnold Worldwide Website (previous account holders) for clues, looked for the lyrics - and even tried to dig up my contacts who worked at Arnold.

Some would consider it sacrilegious that a "corporate-fed, pop culture, meme generator" indirectly led me to admire Nick Drake's work. Bottom line is that I got wind of his talent and his life story that equally amaze me to this day - and I am never the same. Soon after the VW ad, his name and his music gained even more ground as it found places in movie soundtracks for The Royal Tenenbaums, Serendipity and Garden State, to name a few. Like most legends, he gained ground posthumously - although not by a conscious choice (and this is what I'd like to believe). His overdose was an accident that leaves this success unrealized by its creator. This tragedy happened in 1974 - Nick Drake was 26 years old...

Last time I checked, so am I. Seeing that I don't have a reason for international acclaim waiting for me yet, whether by music or any significant contribution, I hope fate would give me a good number of years more to work on it first.

"And I was green, greener than the hill. Where flowers grew and the sun shone still. Now I'm darker than the deepest sea. Just hand me down, give me a place to be."

Suggested Albums for a Stormy Night:

Recurring Dream: The Very Best Of Crowded House
Pink Moon or Bryter Layter, Nick Drake
The Bends, Radiohead
Lost in Space or Magnolia Soundtrack, by Aimee Mann
Beautiful Girls Soundtrack
Strangeways, Here We Come, by The Smiths
Central Reservation, by Beth Orton
Automatic for the People, by R.E.M
20th Century Masters: The Best Of Louis Armstrong
The Invisible Band, by Travis
Insomnia and Other Lullabyes, by Cynthia Alexander (a hint of Manila in the mix, thanks Gracie.)

*Any other suggestions? Send them my way - surely there would be more storms to come around.

The September Roommate Project: 2005

2005-07-27T20:54:00.000-07:00

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

2005-07-25T21:15:00.000-07:00

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

2005-07-24T20:50:00.000-07:00

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

2005-07-23T20:36:00.000-07:00

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)...

2005-07-16T21:45:00.000-07:00

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

2005-07-06T21:18:00.000-07:00

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.

2005-07-05T23:20:00.000-07:00

Independence Day for the Disenchanted Soul

2005-07-05T21:16:00.000-07:00

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

2005-07-04T15:49:00.000-07:00

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

2005-07-04T13:11:00.000-07:00

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.

At some point, I'll get to Boracay.

2005-06-28T20:51:00.000-07:00

Adele and RJ - the avid divers of the bunch - took amazing pictures under water (and over. By the way: I was tempted to post the pictures of everyone on the banana boat - pre-fall, you know, agitated faces and all. Do I get your permission?).

Good job, guys. You found Nemo.

At the height of Boston's non-existent spring in May, my friends back home did a weekender to Boracay - dubbed as one of the best beaches in the Southeast Asian region and renowned all over the world for it's pristine waters and white sand.

While travel plans to Manila are not definitive at this point - I will get there. Just so I won't have to avert my eyes when encountering saavvy world travelers: "You're from the Philippines. So, how are the Boracay Islands? I have always wanted to..."

Thank you for sending those pictures, Del. This one is currently my desktop wallpaper.

* * *

http://www.virtualtourist.com/travel/Asia/Philippines/Province_of_Aklan/Boracay_Island-1407255/TravelGuide-Boracay_Island.html

Interesting comments on this page (apart from good pictures) in accord with the comments on virtualtourist.com about Boracay - while beautiful and all - has given in to commercialization and western culture.

http://home.online.no/~erfalch/boracay.htm

Politics and the Philippine Peso

2005-06-26T21:34:00.000-07:00

*Politics causing Peso depreciation
http://www.philstar.com/philstar/News200506270403.htm

Really? Not surprisingly so... A dear family friend once said to me: There is hope for the Philippines yet (along with its seven million people?). Operative word being, "yet."

*Archbishop Jaime Cardinal Sin's Wake
http://www.mb.com.ph/MAIN2005062737991.html

FINAL RESTING PLACE: A nun looks at the crypt beneath the altar of the Manila Cathedral where former Manila Archbishop Jaime Cardinal Sin will be buried tomorrow. - Photo By VAL RODRIGUEZ

Turning point in the Philippines' history, for the Archbishop was a crucial component of noteworthy events, such as the People Power Revolution in 1986.

The Roam Chonicles: That Blizzard Weekend in NY

2005-06-26T00:40:00.000-07:00

*New York, NY - January 22-24 (which was extended to the 25th due to weather conditions)

Recently received photos from Kim's album of pictures taken from her b-day celebration in NY. The Boston crew (Jess and Raseeka on the roadtrip with me....) braved the anticipated storms and snowfall for what turned out to be an interesting weekend in the Big Apple.

After the onslaught of email trains on planning this surprise gig for the b-day princess, it came full-circle as we started the drive to NY. It was cold, but the sun was out and the roads were dry. So, on we went - keeping each other awake and strong against carsickness and freezing outside temps that fogged the windows. Poor Jess - as we got closer to the city, we hear a scraping noise at the back - she was using the window scraper to get a view of the skyline. "Alright! We're rolling the windows down for you for 3 seconds to get the view - that's it!"

Denise welcomed us to her apartment and briefed us on the plans for Kim's surprise dinner. We head to Three of Cups and waited... the girl walks past our table the first time! Second time around, she was genuinely surprised - if she was pleased or not, she didn't make it clear at that point - the shock factor was that strong.

Good food, but were too full to head out for drinks. Headed home and slept soundly - woke up to see the streets covered with about a foot of snow, and it was still coming down thick and fast. We were stuck indoors and getting a bit stir-crazy. Therefore, we took random pictures over at Denise's.

Saturday night - hell or high snow fall (snow was not stopping and we had to walk on knee-high snowbanks to get there), we ventured out for a quick dinner - then on to Luca Lounge. Really chill bar with dark antique furniture and minimal lighting. Couches were cozy and the sangria was commendable. I liked the mellow atmosphere and the non-intrusive music. Kept a mental note to look for a similar joint as soon as I get to Boston (The Living Room is great, but not really comparable).

Then someone had the great idea to go to Karaoke. Grrreat... We walked out and the weather still did not taper down. Snow was coming at an almost perfect horizontal angle. Kim, why can't you have your birthday in May??? We get to the Karaoke bar - that was when it got interesting. Raseeka rocked on, the Wong sisters were a phenomenal duo, I sang songs I would otherwise not be caught dead singing, and Jess brought her college memories to life with Just like Jesse James.

After Jordan's failed mission of bringing us to some obscure bar (which we found right when they were closing), we took a cab and drove (more like skidded and slipped) home. Sunday in NY was better, but Boston was being hit hard - so we called our places of work and reported our stranded situation in New York.

http://nametyphoon.com/forum/index.php?topic=24.new

That was quite an experience. Perfect time to stay in and enjoy movies with a cup of cocoa - but instead, we braved the harsh storm to go out. For once, streets in Soho were deserted - although the bars still had a good crowd going. It was amazing how we got through over 4 blocks through mounds of snow. This must have been what the pioneers had to go through in the early days.

Caught the Patriots game on TV over Kim's place, when I was supposed to be somewhere in Boston watching it on the big screen. Won over the Steelers on the AFC title game 41-27, (while I won some bets myself.... *'sup, Uncle Marv?) as I knew they would.

2005-06-26T00:03:00.000-07:00

No, we would not have had the guts had it not been a private room. [RC: New York].

2005-06-26T00:02:00.000-07:00

Rock on, Raseeka! (wait - are those britney spears lyrics?! Say it ain't so...) [RC: New York]

On Concerts and (er...)Rockstars: Concert-o-graphy from late 2004 - current

2005-06-24T22:56:00.000-07:00

* Oasis
June 24th, Tweeter Center for Performing Arts - Mansfield, MA

Took us about 2 hours to get there... considering rush hour, Cape Cod traffic, and the concert goers trying to cut each other at the bottleneck by Mansfield and Norton. Great venue, as I have had fun in the past - just a process to get there.

We finally park and head to the area. Stopped by the entrance for some drinks and food - which amounted to what would have been a decent dinner somewhere else. Scanned the crowd and before anything was even mentioned, it was clear: the demographic of the people there were a bit off the radar with what we were expecting.

High schoolers, teens with short white skirts (a good number who had lawn tickets), young ones on their cellphones trying to locate their other friends who were in town and nixed the usual summer at Martha's Vineyard. We thought: How could they know Oasis? I was in high school, oblivious to their arrogance, when I rocking to them - some of these kids in the crowd could barely have been zygotes back then.

On second thought - I did go to a Bob Dylan concert 3 years back...

We made it in time to catch Jet halfway through their performance. Now, they got the crowd going - seemingly a better job than the headliners did. Few minutes later. Oasis, the fabulous Gallagher brothers and all, went onstage. Had a slow start with an unfamiliar song from their new album, followed by a couple more fresh ones. Lyla woke up the audience, with a rendition that does not vary much from the radio/audio version. Not too bad material, but after a few minutes we thought it would be good to hear something familiar. Cigarettes and Alcohol, What's the Story Morning Glory?, and Champagne Supernova garnered good responses as well. Was waiting for Roll with It, but to no avail. Throughout the concert, Liam would be saying something quite indecipherable, that would make us doubt it was said in English. Was it their rockstar attitudes that wasn't effective for them to connect with the crowd this one particular show? The place was packed, and their performance did not seem to justify the sold out concert. I have heard of good experiences with folks who have seen them live - this was just not in that circle of notable ones. Clad in leather jacket and shorts - Liam sang without much regard for the audience.

Then again, they are (er....) rockstars, giving them the license to carry the same attitude that got them this far. (Not Beatles-far.... as that was an overestimation on their part).

Concert-o-graphy: late 2004 - current

U2 Vertigo Tour: May 28th, 2005, Fleet Center - Boston, MA

http://www.u2setlists.com/vertigo.shtml

Stage was extended to form a circular ramp, enclosing the top $ ticket holders. Amazing (dizzying?) stage lighting. Entertaining - you can feel the energy from their performances- reciprocated by the crowd. All was well until politics got involved. Most are aware of their stand on war and world debt - all admirable. However, too much of it being incorporated into the show was unnecessary.

Louisiana Heritage Fair: April 28-30, 2005, New Orleans, LA

(See Roam Chronicles for Jazz/Jambalaya Weekend)

Garbage: April 17, 2005, Avalon - Boston, MA

http://www.epinions.com/content_4329676932

Yes, Ms. Manson - it is all about you. Seeing them live brings me back to my days with my torn jeans - the angst-ridden teen hating the world and everything thriving in it. Great connection with the audience, as one man in the front row was called on for being "naughty". What is one guy to do with a beautiful Scottish rock diva who has a knack for putting her leg up on the speakers (Shirley Manson was wearing a short white dress) as she croons? I was glad to have them back after the news on the band drama.

Tori Amos: April 10, 2005, The Bushnell Center for Performing Arts, Hartford, CT

http://www.toriset.org/c.php?c=1461

The venue was amazing - Raseeka and Heather can attest to my admiration for the beautiful theater. Surely Boston's Orpheum theater is great - but I was glad to have witnessed Tori Amos live at the Bushnell. Previous statements heard from Tori fans - avid and fairweather ones alike - are proven true... she is one amazing performer. See her at least once - it will be worth it.

Pixies: December 1, 2004, The Tsongas Arena - Lowell, MA

http://www.the-mass-media.com/media/paper445/news/2004/12/09/Arts/Pixies.Worth.Going.To.Lowell.For-826797.shtml

I was on a concert high for several days - that was one great show. Kim Deal, whom I admired with the Breeders before I got wind of the Pixies, is back with a vengeance. Hearty setlist with double renditions of several songs. Vecchio is right: It was a cold night and I would not have travelled to Lowell otherwise... Black Francis and the crew made it all worthwhile.

Finding Ms. Holloway

2005-06-23T21:46:00.000-07:00

http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/8290302/

My friend, Jody*, was in Aruba several years ago. She got back to to Boston with a tan, regrets about being back, a slight buzz from the pina coladas, and a stories of how beautiful that place is. White sand is overrated, I thought - actually envious that she was able to go away one token week in winter. With her were an array of photographs with wonderful sights that made me want to pack my bags in a huff. We were laughing at the picture above and deliberated on sending it to Jay Leno - chances are they'll discuss it along with the other weird sightings they get. She gave me a copy and I treasured it along with my "English is not my first language!" ticket that I use whenever I get a grammar slip. No fail, it has turned into a conversation piece for it is an oddity... "[Perplexed look or double take from co-worker] Sorry we're... whaaat?"

I saw the picture of the bar about two weeks ago where Natalee Holloway, Alabama teen missing since May 30th, was last found. CNN had a quick shot of the entrance to Carlos N' Charlies and I saw the all-too-familiar door. For a moment, it didn't seem too funny anymore.

After a week of being out of town (was out of touch - felt like I was in a different planet altogether... will explain more later), I get a hold of the news that no concrete progess has been made. Sure, there were arrests - but what's the validity behind keeping both father-and-son van der Sloot behind bars if no details are leading them closer to where Natalee really is? There are speculations that the arrests were fueled by media and US government pressures. Aruba is less than 200 sq. km of land - one can't help but wonder how much can the sand, sun, and palm trees conceal in a relatively small area. For her family's sake, Natalee needs to be found before more vague connections are made, and worse - before the media drops the story for the next big one.

I was told before that the best parties were the ones laden with details that you cannot clearly remember the day after. Put aside the cocktails for a bit to get answers - this hangover in Aruba had lingered long enough.

2005-06-07T22:53:00.000-07:00

On a high...

Britain's gift to the world: Nick Hornby Reads at Coolidge Corner

2005-06-07T20:55:00.000-07:00

(Brookline, MA, 6pm) I recall several years ago, I was enroute via train to New York. I found myself not only engrossed with this book (About a Boy, pre-movie) that I almost randomly picked up as something for the trip, but completely making a fool out of myself by laughing out loud on more than one occasion. Sure, I was embarassed - but not as much as I was hooked. Nick Hornby - with that writing tone sure to get the reader engaged, and cynicsm that eludes negativity with something more (oddly) profound - has moved up to being one of my favorite writers of all time.

The book reading was hosted by Brookline Booksmith and was scheduled for 6pm. Instead of their usual basement location for guest authors, the event director organized it across the street at the Coolidge Corner Theater. Good move, I'd say - because except for maybe 1-2 seats in the back, the place was filled.

This event was in line with Nick Hornby's new book, A Long Way Down, which is about random people who all met at the top of the tower block - intending to commit suicide. What ensues is a (dysfunctional) friendship amongst them and a support group that is strengthened by their differences. Here is another topic, suicide-that is, that he (NH) was able to translate into lighthearted prose without sacrificing character building and depth. Typical Hornby: High Fidelity (!) and Fever Pitch were both about men fearing commitment and their careers heading for a downturn. About a Boy features a pensive child with a suicidal mother and no set circle of friends. How to be Good is about a man trying to save what's left of his marriage... Not surprisingly, he probably has the formula to write a comic novel about the plummeting world debt.

Nick Hornby seem to be quite a mellow, level-headed guy when he was reading some excerpts from the novel in focus. Starkly different, I suppose, from his book characters that hinge on the neurotic, quirky... to the clinically deranged. The Q&A part came next - I regret that I am not able to relay the items verbatim, but here were a few that were worthy of mention.

On the Fever Pitch movie adaptation: He seemed content about it, seeing that it did reflect (albeit not completely mirrored) an obsession to a sports team that pervaded the main character's daily existence. Boston Red Sox fans out there can relate. Hornby did mention that the movie was meant to portray the team as one that "never one the World Series." He'd like to believe that he took part in our fate in 2004 having taken a turn, and even joked that maybe he could do another movie to help another team -"The Cubs, perhaps," says Hornby.

Malcom Glazer's (Tampa Bay Buccaneers) acquisition of Manchester United: (No particular comment on this - as he rooted for Liverpool. Roused some reaction from the crowd though - for good reason.)

On the High Fidelity movie adaptation: Acknowledged Stephen Frears, cast and crew... Talked about the similarities with both mediums along with some few stark differences. Commended the movie crew's close attention to detail with the selected cast whose characters were somehow on-par with that of the book's. (I am trying my darnedest to leave my John Cusack bias out the window) Role-building and character depth, the songs, the soundtrack, the inner dialogue... specifics that attributed to the success that the movie had garnered to this day.

On NH's protagonists, usually featuring self-loathing British adolescents: Who isn't self-loathing at that age, whether British, American (or even Asian)? (Hornby yet again makes a good point on that one...) It is that part of life where all the world seems suffocating and one can only take refuge in the songs that filter the pain. Hornby said that even when he was starting out and an American publisher offered him a deal (for High Fidelity), he had to ask twice because, "wouldn't America have had someone creatively write about relationships gone bad and non-existent careers?" Probably, but no one having portrayed it the way he did.

It was then he admitted, that the self-loathing just might be a typical characteristic... so-called Britain's gift to the world.

I waited 1.5 hours in line to get my 2 books signed (High Fidelity and A Long Way Down). When it was my turn - I knew I only had a few seconds before I had to move along.... Man, I wanted to ask him what were the top 5 most ridiculous things said to him at the book signing... I wanted to know more about his relationship with his son... I wanted to ask how one can grow the gift of writing as he had been given. So then I asked him a favor: Apart from the front covers pages of my books, I requested him to also sign a page from High Fidelity that I had dog-eared with (I think) one of the most poignant points of the book. He looked at it and smiled:

"... Surely this is wrong? Surely people who are happy should look happy, at all times, no matter how much money they have or how uncomfortable their shoes are or how little their child is sleeping; and people who are doing OK but still not found their soulmate should look... and people who are desparate should wear something, a yellow ribbon maybe, which would allow them to be identified by similarly desparate people. When I am no longer desparate, when I have got all this sorted out, I promise you here and now that I will never ever complain again about... or anything at all. I will beam beatifically at all times, just from sheer relief."
Hornby, Nick. Character: Rob, High Fidelity, p.227

Think again, Sir Hornby. Who do you think, to a good number of literary-appreciating folks here in the US, is Britain's gift to the world?

2005-06-07T20:53:00.000-07:00

Genius who has remarkble talent for offhand humor and wit - I was fortunate enough to look him in the eye this afternoon and say: "Thank you..."

The Roam Chronicles: Jazz and Jambalaya Weekend

2005-06-03T20:54:00.000-07:00

April 29- May 1, 2005: New Orleans, Louisiana - Jazz Fest

The vibe was wonderful... the weather was warm and humid... the plethora of music and cajun cooking made up for the hotel check-in fiasco. I have always wanted to visit this city nicknamed the Bayou, with all its rich history and culture - more often than not swept under the rug of the novelty that is: The fabled beads of Bourbon Street.

New Orleans Jazz Fest in essence ran for 2 weeks, started April 22 through May 1st. New Orleans was buzzing with activity, although from what we were told, the city seldom rests. (Trust the deranged Bostonians to acknowledge the seasons with a high regard when it comes to bouts of activity/inactivity within a given year. Weather does not vary here much - similar to Manila. No use for those wool coats.) Just in February-March, Mardi Gras hit the town. I recall several years back when Kay* and I actually planned to check it out. However some time had passed, I sought the need for an atmosphere apart from one big college party. Lineup over the weekend was packed with performers ranging from local to international, singing gospel to (some derivation of...) rock, having a 1-2 performers to a full choir (See www.nojazzfest.com for 2005 photos and lineups). Just to give you an idea:

Venue was at a local fair/racing grounds. Total area measurement not determined. (But believe me, it was huge.)
There were three main stages with performers lined up on scheduled time slots from 11am through 7pm. Stages have the shows on simultaneously - therefore we had to choose acts we wanted to see and miss out on some. (Dave Matthews, Ike Turner and Elvis Costello - same time on 3 different stages somewhat equidistant from each other).
Tons of food and drink.
People actually line up for the food and drink as much as they do the porta-pottys.
Good array of arts and crafts. Still hoped I got that poster....

One thing worthy of note about events such as this: The people that you meet and the friends you make along the way comprise half of the total experience. Sharing the same interest with the next person might have you end up sharing their blanket on the lawn and some beers for an afternoon show under the scorching sun..... A simple, "Excuse me, may I just get through to the bar for a drink," may have you talking to a wonderful person who frequents your town for business. Everybody talks to each other and connections are fostered - you don't know where small conversation may bring forth.

Case in point: Friday night - hungry, on a slight buzz... holding on to that receipt and waiting for our number to be called (scene is at a burger place, 3 am - So I suppose that's Saturday morning....) Everybody had already gotten their grub and I'm left cranky. Struck up a conversation with a friendly woman from Chicago named Cara* who was also wondering why the crazy guy in a pope hat and beads got his Triple burgers before we did. (Papal privileges, I said.) As we talked, her friends went ahead to their hotel leaving her with us.... we then walked her to the hotel. Before the end of the night, we exchanged numbers: She had VIP passes to one of the main stage areas - which happened to be where DMB was headlining Saturday night. Thanks to her and the writers of fate - we enjoyed the VIP tent with catered food all throughout the afternoon - had our own bar where we did not have to pay $7 for a brew, and all other perks not enjoyed beyond that barrier. We were so close to the stage that we saw the performers walk up at about 4 arms length.

I would go back next year if I could. Say, I wonder if they would beef up on security though... because all weekend I saw no more than 3 New Orleans police cars at the event. Even more amazing was - not that they ever had a reason to, at least not that I am aware of.

jam·ba·lay·a (jŭm'bə-lī'ə) n.
A Creole dish consisting of rice that has been cooked with shrimp, oysters, ham, or chicken and seasoned with spices and herbs.

How fitting. Just like the dish itself, New Orleans - from how I remember it that weekend, was a hodgepodge of people enjoying the music.

(I wonder - any similar fiestas in the Spanish regions that could be likened to Paella?)

2005-06-01T21:43:00.000-07:00

Ironically, the only "authentic" jazz bar in the entire Bourbon Street. Several noteworthy ones are deep in the French Quarter [RC: New Orleans].

2005-06-01T21:40:00.000-07:00

The street corners have these tile inscriptions - stating what that street used to be when New Orleans was a Spanish colony [RC: New Orleans].

2005-06-01T21:37:00.000-07:00

... Where it flowed like the Mississippi [RC: New Orleans].

2005-06-01T21:35:00.000-07:00

And we all know who this is... Notice how close we were to the stage? Thanks to some good people we met along the way ("along the way"? It was more like "3am at a Krystal Burger joint for those after-party hunger pains.") See story above [RC: New Orleans].

2005-06-01T21:31:00.000-07:00

Better than Ezra on stage... Would have had a better vantage point of the band, however the blasted flamingo was always in the way [RC: New Orleans].

To blog or not to blog....?

2005-05-30T07:58:00.000-07:00

The topic of long-distance correspondence came up recently in a conversation with my friend Malarcus*. He is set to move to Southeast Asia in a few months (leaving his house, good job within a distinguished company, family, and his equally crazy friends), a project I will never fully understand. (Although having taken that same path several years back, dyslexic version, enabled me to see his point. Sort of.)

Sez me: I was from that side of the planet - the humidity fried my brain enough for me to pack my bags... [me shaking my head] am missing a step.
M: [Insert reason for travel here]....You can email me. I'll probably disappear for a few months before anybody hears from me. Either that or I would have caught a unique malaria strain - but you'll hear from me soon enough.
Sez me: Set up a blog.
M: If I'll be patient enough to update it, sure. Hey, weren't you planning to set-up one for your friends in Manila...

Had been intending to plan one - true. Had vowed to be better in keeping in touch - absolutely. Such is life to have little things come up to get you sidetracked. I know some people who just read that and let out a laugh. ("Hesusmaryosep, Cham... update your rolodex of excuses.")

Last time I was back home in the Philippines was February 2005. The heat was quite a contrast to Boston's 20-degrees below freezing weather at that time and it was good to get away. Realized that the miles do make a difference sometimes in how connections can get sacrificed - although it need not be the case. Sienna* thought I was living in NY the whole time. Allie* was laughing in disbelief when I told her that this Pearl of Manresa '96 Cynics Realm used to be in event management, wedding planning included. Jake*, who kept me (in)sane and was one of the key components of my senior year's Amber Power force, had been in a renowned band in Manila for some time (recently made it big in the MTV Asia circuit).

Distance from Cambridge, Massachusetts, USA to Manila, Philippines is reportedly 8,434 miles as the crow flies (7,329 nautical miles). Long commute to home. Here's my (amateurish) attempt at reporting on the ground breaking events (if any at all) happening from my corner of the world. Useless musings -random thoughts, if you may, rising from the clutter of my desk.

* (You guys know this disclaimer....) The names have been changed to protect yada, yada...