Cheers!

Sometimes life is just too good that we need to find something wrong with it. In finding that dark cloud beyond the silver lining, we see ourselves as normal and wash away the guilt of having more than other people.







1. It's your first day at a new job. You're still a bit short on cash, so you need to walk to the office. It's a hot day.

a. No sweat. As soon as I get my paycheck, I'll have some extra money for the bus fare. And hey, I am reporting for WORK.
b. Jeez but it's hot out. Being poor sucks. Look at those schmucks in them airconditioned buses. Life isn't fair, dammit.

5-point bonus: Identify those less-fortunate than you are.

2. You get your paycheck and now have money for the bus fare. You can now take the bus to the office.

a. Right. I don't have to walk to the office anymore. This means I can wake up a bit later and get some more rest. And hey, I've got another paycheck to look forward to.
b. Public transportation bites the big one. The buses are cramped and the airconditioner's not working properly. Look at those schmucks sitting pretty in taxis. Life isn't fair, dammit.

5-point bonus: Identify those less-fortunate than you are.

3. After 6 months, you get regular employee status and the commensurate pay increase. Taking a cab to work is now possible.

a. This is nice. The seating's comfortable and I can get off right at the building's main entrance. And hey, provided I work hard, a promotion is now possible.
b. Crap. Nothing is as stressful as fighting with a dozen other drones for one taxi. Look at those schmucks sitting pretty in their cars. Life isn't fair, dammit.

5-point bonus: Identify those less-fortunate than you are.

4. Two years pass, and you've made real progress within the company. You're in mid-management and can avail of the company's car plan.

a. Wow! Who'd have thought two years ago I had to walk to the office?
b. Goddamned traffic is pissing me off; and I'm driving a Toyota. Look at those BMW-riding schmucks. Life isn't fair, dammit.

5-point bonus: Identify those less-fortunate than you are.


Scoring: Give yourself 10 points for each question you answered with choice A. For each question you answer with choice B, you get 1 point.

60 points = Well done.
4 points = You suck, but I'm sure you'll find someone who sucks more than you do.

The Bends

Some sort of throat infection hit me two days ago, and I had to call in sick yesterday. Given that I suspected the infection to be viral in nature, I thought it best to lock myself up in my brother's room so as not to pass it on to my baby daughter. My confinement started Monday night and ended only this morning when I got up to go back to work. It was awful lonely, but it was worth the small sacrifice knowing I was limiting the chances of my daughter catching whatever it was that I had.

I haven't felt that alone for some time now. But thinking about it now, I'm actually more in solitude when I'm not by myself.

Sure, the silence of being alone in a room was deafening, but it is nothing compared to the turmoil I feel when I'm around people. I'm not sure when this started, but if you could ask a fish who's thrashing about in the mud what that feels like, you'd have an idea of how it is to be me when I'm not by myself. I do, however, take some comfort in knowing what causes the anxiety-- I'm absolutely positive no one knows who I am.

It's tiring to have to step into a false skin each morning. But there is no other way around things; if there was a viable alternative, I would've taken it. But there is none. I need my mask to survive in a reality that is not mine. Think SCUBA. If I forget to get my gear ready I'm sure to go down faster than a discount whore. I hate it. I positively hate it.

I always disliked having to dress up for other people. If I had to dress up nice, it had to be because I wanted to dress up nice. Now, at times almost instinctively, I put on my mask each weekday at 6am without the smallest sign of protest. It's frustrating.

There are good days now and then, when I forget I'm not in my skin. But having these 'good days' are what scares me the most. A certain comfort-level is tolerated, but acceptance can never happen. I'm afraid I may have too good a day and I never take my mask off. Not necessarily a bad thing, all things being considered. If I am to spend majority of my time underwater, I'd rather do it scuba gear in place.

But then again, there's the bends.

For Ninang Emily and Tita Amber

Lots of Love,
Sandy

Absolutely Spent

I think my daughter Sandy is shifting sleeping schedules. One more sleepless night for me and my wife and I'll call it official; she'll be on the night shift. She's been gradually moving her bedtime up by roughly half an hour a night since Saturday. We hit the sack at a quarter to twelve last night.

That really isn't TOO late, but consider two things: she intermittently wakes up to feed, and we co-sleep.

Co-sleeping simply means constantly being wary of crushing an infant to death. Hence, it really compromises the quality of one's sleep. It's a good set up, though. Baby has immediate access to mommy and my wife and I can get to her real quick in case she needs help with anything. Plus, nothing beats waking up next to a smiling child.

Back to my point. I am drained. But I can't complain too much. I have it good compared to my wife who has to wake up for the aforementioned mid-night feedings (Sandy drinks only mama's milk) and take care of the baby all day while designing websites. What bowls me over is how she has only a smile to offer Sandy when the little one wakes her up in the middle night to ask for milk. I'm a lucky man and I love my girls.

Malaysian GP Tifoso Race Report

Malaysian Grand Prix, Sepang Circuit
March 19, 2006
Round 2 of the 2006 Formula 1 World Championship
Starting Grid:
M. Schumacher - f*cking 14th*
F. Massa - f*cking 22nd*

*lost 10 places due to FI f*cking A engine regulations

Getting docked the penalties by the FI f*cking A really screwed up both drivers' chances at a win or a podium. Michael's slow stops were no f*cking help either. Pretty solid stuff from Massa though. The f*cking Renault girly-men got 1st and 2nd, Jense took up the last step. Juanker came in f*cking 4th, followed by (thanks to both cossies and Heidfeld's beemer biting the dust and Jock Villnoo, Trolley and Halfie being rather cooperative) Massa, yes, Massa, then Michael. 5th and f*cking 6th. @$#%($_@(*()&)!!&^%_!

Idiots.

Why can't people see crap for what it is and tell it like they see it?

Masterrrrrrrrific!

Manong Rey brought a can of Master Fried Sardines for breakfast today. He tossed the contents into a bowl, added 2 tablespoons of soy sauce, 2 tablespoons of vinegar, and a dash of pepper. The mixture was then ground to a chunky mush, which we then spread on pan de sal. Small joys like this, a good breakfast, always smack me upside the head and remind how fortunate I am. Props to Nanay Butch for the wheat bread.

Alone.

It was one of those mornings when I dreaded having to take off my earphones and be with people.

Today's Special

Porridge a' la Sandsterini.

A tablespoon of rice cooked in six cups of water, flavored with a dash of salt and infused with fresh mama's milk. Served with a ton of love on the side.

Sandy had her first taste of solid food yesterday, and man, did she do a good job eating. It was like she'd been doing it all her life. Her chewing technique was impeccable. The pure athleticism she displayed in the all important grab-spoon-from mommy-and-spill-food-all-over-everything maneuver was glorious to watch. She also had no problems keeping the food down, the defining characteristic of a champion, ein weltmeister.

Patay kang bata ka.

After working on an effing document the entire day, one keystroke was all it took and all my effort was put to waste. I decided to re-organize some of my files before I officially checked them in. That f*cked things up big time. All of this has made me realize it's not wise to keep cleaning up *.backup files for cleanliness' sake.

It's a good thing the document isn't due immediately. Otherwise, I'd be looking at additional time spent away from my wife and kid and balut for dinner. I'll get back to it first thing tomorrow. Crap, crappity, crap.

By a hair.

Young gun poster boy Nano Alonso beat out the Schumster, but just barely. I wanted the win, but given the season they're coming off from, 8 points is a very solid start. The proverbial silver lining is that the 248 F1 has the pace, and that Herr Schumacher looks like he still wants title number 8.

Felipe Massa came in a lowly 10th. He made a rather elementary error early in the race (selecting the wrong gear for Turn 1 and consequently spinning), then got his stop botched by a wheelgun that refused to fire. Six days to go till Sepang.

Forza!

Only 22 minutes till the start of the qualifying session for the Grand Prix of Bahrain and the 2006 Formula One season. The 5-month wait is over. I certainly hope them young 'uns are shown a thing or two by the Schumeister. Aside from the obvious, my hope for this year is that whoever took Spa out of the calendar be made to stand next to an engine as it's fired up. Without ear protection. Forza Ferrari!

UPDATE: Michael Schumacher takes pole at 1:31.431, Massa is in P2 with 1:31.478 for an all-Ferrari front row. I hope they do just as well in the race tomorrow.

Now you done jinxed the darned thing.

In a bid to boost my wife's morale, I've been going on about how tough my daughter Sandy is. She'll be 6 months old in a few days and she has yet to show so much as a sniffle. I've practically told everyone I know.

Saturday, 11 March 2006, 8.07am. We wake up to our daughter crying. She's running a fever and is obviously in some sort of discomfort. Two sneezes later and snot's coming out of her nose. She's having her first cold. Good thing we were scheduled to go to the doctor's anyway.

I am a loser.

Have a seat. Make yourself comfortable.

This is my daughter Sandy. She'll be six months old on the 18th.

My wife and I are starting to teach her how to sit on her own. Imagine that. Learning how to sit.

It's small things like these that define parenthood. While learning how to sit may pose a sizeable challenge for her now, it'll be nothing compared to what she'll need to face in the future. Oh, you know. Failure, classmates, having a tough time getting home because she can't get a ride, traffic, missed assignments, boys.

She does and will always have us, though. We can only hope that we'll constantly be enough. Saya nito.

Huli ka.

The trip to the office today rocked.

It wasn't too hot. At 7:46am, all the sun had was an other-worldly calming effect. I was brought back to somewhere I was roughly 21 years ago. My father told me it was OK to skip school that day so I could go with him to work. That meant being able to roll around the carpet of an air-conditioned office, an endless supply of drawing material, access to a phone for crank calls, lunch brought to you in a styrofoam pack, a bottle or two of coke, and possibly even a trip to Kentucky Fried Chicken on the way home. On that particular Friday, I hit the jackpot. I remember smiling as I cradled a bucket of chicken, stopping only briefly to answer when my father asked me if I remembered to bring home all the pencils, ballpens, and colored markers Tita Paz (his assistant) had given me.

My father died 12 years ago. I miss him. Everyday.

I got to the shuttle just in time to get a place at the front of the queue. Fantastic. I had my pick of riding shotgun or taking the prime seats at the back. If something other than a van shows up, option 2 wouldn't matter. Absolutely spot on. A van pulls up. I could not have been any happier than if I had pocket rockets and two aces showed up at the flop. I decide to take a place in the first row as I plug in my earphones and flip the switch on my music player.

I only wish the 25-minute trip lasted 14 minutes longer. A second longer and that trip would have been a journey, and I did not have my guitar with me.