Roadtrip, Anyone?

Where can one go on a full tank of gas?

- Distance from Manila to Baguio is 250 km

(I’d probably make it to Tarlac before I run out of gas)

- Distance from Manila to La Union is 259 km

(Not bad. I get to visit my relatives)

- Distance from Manila to Pagudpud is 563.15 km

(I’m better off going to Baguio)

- It will take 1:15 hours from Merville to Fairview

(I’ll visit my cousins)

- It will take 45 minutes from Merville to Bambang

(I miss my old house)

- It will take 40 minutes from Merville to Quezon City

(Now, here’s an idea)

- It will take 20 minutes from Merville to Alabang

(Still wins!)

Oh kay…forgive the ecstatic driver. I’m pretty sure that this is the first time my car felt what it’s like to have a full tank of gas. The credit goes out to my Tita who fortunately has some gas card credits left that will expire by Friday. And expensive solvents such as gasoline mustn’t go to waste, if I may so meself! Righteous!

Few months ago, I decided that for my birthday next year, I want to take a road trip. I’ll probably go to Pampanga first and stay with my relatives there, then off to Baguio for a vacation. If I have time, maybe I could go to La Union as I’ve been told I have some kins based there. Just like what Orlando Bloom’s character in Elizabethtown did. But sadly, I ain’t going anywhere. Full tank or gas light blinking dangerously, the car wouldn’t make it. Best that I could do is get the car tuned up and get all things fixed so that my road trip would be possible. Just the thought of it is exciting, right? And maybe I could take someone with me to this epic trip of mine. Or meet her somewhere ala-Kirsten Dunst in the film. Will you?

“Turn on ignition. Begin your journey and do not skip ahead.”

Ban on BLUE

Okay, I ain’t much of a crusade kind of guy but my Tita Rina asked this as a favor. Let me call her Reg, she’s my tita but she’s literally eight months older than me. Well, she sent me this and requested me to spread the word out through my oh-so-many readers. Pretty much self-explanatory if you ask me.

This is to warn you against buying BLUE brand laptops. We bought a unit last July 20, 2007 and after 14 months of use, it broke down due to a defective motherboard as per diagnosis of their service center. They want to charge us P15,000 for its replacement. We tried to reason with them since the unit is relatively new, and they have to do something about because the customer may not always be right, but customers still have rights! We believe that a company such as this has no place in their consumer business because they do not care about the welfare of their customers. WE PROPOSE A TOTAL BAN ON THE BLUE BRAND OF LAPTOPS!

See? Scary but the woman has a point. When she first mentioned this campaign of hers on bulletin boards in one of her social networking sites, I thought it was nothing. “Don’t buy Blue laptops!” Okay, I prefer red anyways. I haven’t got the slightest idea that “Blue” is actually a brand of laptops. I feel for her because our unit suffered the same fate as hers a couple of months back. And by some stroke of bad luck, both diagnoses are the same: faulty motherboard. Good thing ours made it to the one-year warranty, so all we had to pay the service center folks was our kindness. Anyway, laptops are known to have a shorter life span per se. So, just take extra care for those notebook owners out there. Their parts are more expensive and they’re not really upgradeable. Love your laptop. Hehehe.

PS: Let me just clarify that BLUE is a brand not the color. Hahaha.

Happy Birthday (--,)

(--,) celebrates its first birthday today. Happy Birthday (--,)

Countless cups of coffee and 174 blogs later, I’m finding it hard to believe that it’s been one year since I joined the Blogspot bandwagon. And since then, I’ve written personal entries that I believe was worthy of sharing. I’ve been blogging, (or at least trying) since 2005…be it Xanga or Friendster blogs. I still consider my Multiply account to be my primary one because most people in my circle’s a member so it’s easier to socialize with them. (--,), however, is a different story.

There are just some thoughts that are better left unwritten. But some fall into the middle ground. Those that are supposed to be kept private but one would go crazy if he/she can’t at least write about it. Can’t really say I’ve written some life-changing entry, but, hey, I’ve got readers. And my heartfelt gratitude to those eight who actually wastes couple of minutes of their precious and expensive time to comprehend my ramblings! Hehe. You guys know who you are. Gratzi!

By far, my most read entry in that span of one year would be Sunday Scribbles VI. We all know it’s in our nature to be interested to those juicy entries, and me dishing out a different side of me actually gave that blog hits. What do I get from all of these thoughts that I continuously publish? Well, other the fact that it keeps me sane, I’ve actually improved my writing skills. No, I have no aspirations of winning something from this country’s annual Blog awards. I started this as an online journal to let people know what goes on inside my noggin and maybe get to know better…and it will continue to be just that. To my blogging friends, if the pen is mightier than the sword; methinks, then the keyboard is lightsaber! (--,)

Almost Woohoo!

“Woohoo!” - Used to show excess joy in response to a situation.

It was a night of almosts. I wrote how Saturdays usually suck for me, so yesterday, I thought, would not be an exception. An hour before I get off work, a buddy SMS’ed me with an invite: dinner and after dinner party within the area. Oh, joy! Good thing I was in the mood for some late night gimik, so it wasn’t really that hard to convince myself. When I reached Greenbelt, there they were. The gang, which I purposely will not disclose due to the nature of this entry. Hehehe. Yep, they’re all there, and I mean all. One girl in the mix, which I wasn’t expecting but couldn’t care less. After much deliberation on where the after dinner party should take place--Okay, guys, what’s the plan?

Cutscene to Alchemy. Yeah, Alchemy…the boys’ comfort zone, their own personal happy place. Well, like I said, not hard to convince meself and I do love Alchemy, so besides parking problems, what could possibly stop us from partying there? 1989 borns. The establishment is hosting an event for these school kids. It’s not a private one, but who’s really stupid enough to enter a club where its patrons already know one another? I’d like to see one hook up without looking and seeming like a douche. The solution: session it is. Please let it be somewhere in Quezon City, please! (*wink*) No, Gerry’s it is. After a tower of brewsky and some possibly fatal chicharong bulaklaks, the night shifts to a “Boys’ night out,” if you catch my drift.

Cutscene to Quezon Avenue: the metro’s very own Vegas strip minus the gambling but all the legal consummation at everyone’s disposal. Again, I have no qualms whatsoever if they want to be human beings. I may not agree, but I ain’t the hindering kinda guy. So, whilst I drove home our rose among the thorns and passed by the house that I hope to pass by and go to more often (hehehe) the boys were scouting for the mothership. Their first stop: the establishment named after Hercules’ adorable and charming flying unicorn. But what they had to offer did not tickle my friends’ tastebuds. So off to the next: what you call your friends and kids if you’re in the same class together. Now here, wow, it shook the foundations of my beliefs and viewpoint on this subject matter. Oh, wow! But thank the heavens for expensive rates and time limits. Whew. But these are red-blooded males. Nothing will stop them if they set out to hunt. Beside the expensive spot, lies this new foundation, a wing or annex if you will. It’s so new that you can actually still sniff the fresh paint off the walls, it’s cheaper, and they definitely pressed the right buttons of my companions. Again, I was saved. Gratefulness goes out to being late that all the “good ones” are taken and what’s left are not worthy of shelling out hard-earned pesoses. The night ended with a plan for next time. We should be early, it should be all boys, and be ready for anything. Whatever you say, boys!

Why are these places named after the most wholesomest words?

Almost Woohoo! I am a firm believer of “Why pay for things that you can get for free?” Up to the point before we went to that new place, it was classic me who was prevailing. Sure, I’ve been to places like that but never sampled what they had to offer. It was always me and this friend enjoying the good food that our host ordered for us while they keep themselves busy. Take your time, guys, the roasted chicken and calamares are better lovers than the one you’re with anyways. But last night, if it weren’t for the circumstances, I would’ve lost it. I already went all technical and thought, “Yeah, I still don’t believe in paying for that, but I ain’t shelling out anything. It’s free! So technically, I’m not demolishing my beliefs.” No, I don’t agree with this certain literary vampire character who everyone loves about his belief that those acts are supposed to be special. I’m sorry but that sounded gay. It’s just that it’s better if it’s a conquest, right? Challenging. See, I’ve been known to give good intros and interesting bodies of stories, but my endings will usually make you go, “That’s it? Nothing happened? Sheesh!” Hahaha! Although, next time, it might be a different story.

Dear You

Dear You,

Why aren’t you updating me that much anymore? Have I done something wrong? Am I not worthy of your time anymore that you choose to spend your time on useless things and people? Yes, I know you will defend them; they’re not useless. But do you really think this will end happily ever after? Come on. Just look at your track record. Be serious. You’re better off with your daily primetime shows and books and gimiks. Face it…you’re not the settling type. Yes, you’re romantic, I give you that, but I guarantee that once you get what you’re asking for, you wouldn’t have the slightest idea with what to do with it. Do you really want me to bring up 2004 and 2005? I don’t think so. You were seriously worse than a pathetic zombie craving for fresh meat, well, in your case…stupid little chance. Good thing it wasn’t given to you.

Okay, I’m a bit too harsh. After all, you’re just a goofy bastard with delusions of grandeur and immortality. I’m just looking out for you. You know I always got your back. And I support whatever ridiculous endeavors you’re embarking on. I’m just stating the obvious. Like I can do anything anyways. I’m just a lifeless program who can’t even think for himself and needs, you, to tell me what to think and do. Just remember, I’m always here for you, always ready to listen and absorb whatever it is you want to tell me.

Love always,
(--,)

Michelangelo (not the turtle)

It took Michelangelo four years to finish the magnificent ceiling of the Sistine Chapel. It took me nine hours less lunch and coffee breaks to finish typing this documentary about him. It would be appropriate if I would write a little something about the world’s greatest artist in history…but I’m pretty sure that I had a little too much Michelangelo information to last me until I’m 30. Put me on a gameshow with trivia about him and I’d win the grand prize. But, in the spirit of art and history, this guy deserves his title of being the greatest. According to the documentary, he is the first superstar figure in history, at least, with regards to the art world, and if you spent hours and hours researching about him, I guarantee you’ll agree with that statement. Coolest part would be him pitted against his greatest rival at their time: the famed Leonardo da Vinci, then, without his movie deals and controversial works of literature. They were in this battle that would’ve decided who is better, but, as fate would have it, the epic clash did not finish. Leo screwed up his paints and Mikey was called by the Upper East Siders, I mean, by the Pope to do this little project he’s been planning, you know, paint the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel. No big deal, right? Yeah, upon completion, Mikey was immortalized in movies and mutant turtles were named after him.

Cellphone receptions in the old days are bad.

Right. This guy is the man. Regardless of his “preferences” hell, his works were masterpieces and timeless. Now I know why the best artists in the world belong to the softer classification. One of the things that I want to do before I meet my maker is to travel. Rome is definitely on my itinerary. I would so want to see the Sistine Chapel and marvel at its ceiling. Yeah, I’m definitely doing that. I think it’s safe to say that I am a self-proclaimed renowned Michelangelo scholar. Hahaha! Michelangelo Buonarroti, you’re now my favorite dead artist. Gratzi for everything.

PS: During those days, why were people who say the world is round burned at stakes? LOL. Sorry, but I really find that funny! Wouldn’t it be so ever amazing if that were implemented nowadays? Heeheehee.

Suburbs & Saturday Nights Suck

The suburbs suck…and so does Saturday nights! Yes, it’s only Thursday but I cannot think of anything to write about and video streaming is becoming a bitch, so, the suburbs and Saturday nights suck. Let me explain. Friday and Saturday nights are supposed to be fun and nonstop partying till the break of dawn. Friday nights, not so much as I have work on Saturdays so I can’t really go all classic me during the night before the weekends. But Saturday, well, should be a whole different story. (I so miss the Friday Club) My last working night of the week, supposed to be, and what happens after shift? I’m home by 10:30. Go on, all together now, the “L” gesture on everyone’s forehead.

My solution: house parties. Will it work: count on it. Feasible: most likely. When: never. What’s wrong with the suburbs? Well, minus the pretentious homeowners, nothing really. It’s just that I’ve been a resident here for three years now and I can shamefully declare that I, yours truly, do not have any neighborhood friends. There I said it. Our community consists of kids and young people whose age ranges from toddlers to teenagers; and the majority, adults. For some reason, the twenty-something demographic count is one: me.

Wisteria Lane minus the hot housewives who’re desperate

Good thing my two teenage cousins live five cartwheels from my house. Or else, I’d lose my sanity from being surrounded by hell spawns and ancient creatures. Still, they’re that, teenagers, and they have their own groups and friends. (Can’t hookup with anyone in their circle as I am guaranteed to go to jail if I do) I’m so envious to this particular neighbor who hosts weekly Saturday night sessions with her friends and kada. What’s stopping me? I tell people where I live and they’re all of a sudden busy. No, I don’t live in the projects, au contraire, me dears. But Paranaque’s not really commuter-friendly. I, myself, hate riding public transportation from and to our place. But however boring or uneventful living here, this is still my home and I’d probably think twice when an opportunity to move comes knocking at my front door. Unless, of course, we get to have our old house in Manila back. Mean time, Saturday nights will continue to suck for an indefinite period of time. (--,)

Salon Price Hike

I have always loved salon days. Months ago, I wrote something about it being my only luxury. And months passed, and it’s still the only thing I treat myself constantly with…that is, until this morning. Mum and my Tita were to have their own respective trip to the salon and so naturally, I would’ve went with them so I could get my haircut for free. Good plan. That is, until we called for reservations. For some ridiculous reason, Bench Fix Hair salon decided to go all petroleum-like and raised their rates. Son of a…Used to be P285 is well, still pretty pricey but I figured, once a month and a half, right? I could manage. But the receptionists specifically told us that now they’re charging P350 per cut! Are the hairdressers and barbers also suffering from recession?

I’ll probably still go and get my haircut at Fix, and be happy about it. Like I said, my stylist there is the only one I trust my hair with. This presents a dilemma. Well, it’s a big deal for me anyways. I was thinking of letting my hair grow like it used to, my “F4” days, (refer to the scary accompanying picture) but my hair doesn’t grow that quick when I’m aiming for that long haired look. And my current messed-up style is easy to manage and doesn’t require that much effort. For now, I guess, I’ll just schedule my salon days two weeks before an important event or occasion. Grrr…the moment I get filthy rich, first thing I’m gonna spend on is hiring a stay-in hairdresser! I swear! Mwahahaha!

Tired + Exhausted + Weary = Fun

Tired! I’m probably using my reserves already just to keep myself going. I haven’t really been getting appropriate rest in the past few days. It’s not like something that is time-consuming happened. I don’t know. Last weekend, I only got 7 to 8 hours of sleep tops. Nonstop partying and after-effects of it kept me awake all throughout my rest days. Not that I’m complaining, I did had lots of fun. But I am feeling the consequences of going all Energizer Bunny.

T&C Survivors showcasing their not-fake-at-all smiles

Yesterday, our team had its general assembly. Many of us thought it would be that big of a deal because the team’s not really used to meetings and assembly, unless terrible news is to be relayed. But no, the meeting was actually light, kinda fun even. Sure, the hint of fake smiles and nonchalant emotions are somewhat apparent, but hey, I won two awards so I totally enjoyed it. Especially when we got to this IceBreaker challenge prepared by the bosses and when our new boss brought out his camera--photo-ops! Best part...the “acceptance” and picture taking with the presenter. *Heehee* Meeting was held 8:00 am so it’s one of the reasons why my insides feel like jello as of the moment.

And to keep the good times rolling, since it’s very rare that our schedules meet, what better way to make it all memorable than to go all sporty by bowling. Yes, I’m literally dragging myself to Mall of Asia but I know it’s going to be worth it. It’s dinner first at Pupung’s resto (how I miss thee) and then let the games begin. My team lost, and the shot that could’ve made the difference, I took it. Nevertheless, I was right. All of us enjoyed ourselves. And here’s your proof: 17. The Game.

How I wish for the weekend to arrive early. I feel like I’m coming down with something. I know I probably won’t get enough and suggested sleep hours but I will at least try. Oh, the pain and weakness of exhaustion. And I don’t even know why and how. What the hell’s causing this weariness? Good thing there’s always something/someone to look forward to every single day. Zzzzzz (--.)

Good Morning, Timmy

Today is going to be a long day. I just know it’ll be. Why? Because it’s one of those super rare times that I am awaken very early, and I mean early. I even had breakfast. Yes, a real hearty breakfast meal, and got to read the papers! Weird! For the past few days, weeks even, I’ve been deprived of my true love: sleep. It’s like there are these forces that wakes me up even before my alarms does their jobs. It’s not like I’m excited or anything. No. I cannot think of one good reason for excitement of that magnitude to keep me conscious longer than usual. No. Then what is it? Beats me.

Got about four hours of sleep. For some, four hours, already a luxury, but like I said, I’ve always been the play hard; sleep harder type of guy. And this mini hangover is not really helping. Where are them Biogesics when you need one? Last night, till early dawn this morning, was Z’s birthday bash. Crazy never-on-Sundays song selections and one bucket later, I was speeding home: 20 minutes, all it took from España to home. Stupid! What was I thinking? (Allo, I’m Lindsey Lohan!) Thank the Man upstairs I got home in one piece. Never again!

Well, there’s always my trusted Tylenol PM. Surely, this is a job for those little tablets of dreamland. But then again, I’m thinking productiveness. On my mind: early Christmas shopping for those people who matter; buy presents for Ninong and Z; actually go back to Quezon City to have my camera fixed (been dead for several months now); finish the final book in the series that I’m reading; or (my personal fave) go indolent! I’m thinking option number five! It’ll probably prevail anyway. The gifts for Ninong and Z comes in second as I really want to give them something special for their birthdays which is today. Let’s see. For the mean time, since it’s still early, I’ma go all classic me first! Oh, by the way, I’m home alone, at least until night time. So, I was thinking, a sixth option? [Evil Grin] (--,)

Go Reproductive Health Bill!

“Please join our signature campaign to prevent the Reproductive Health Bill from being passed by Congress…” Bleh! I’ve been hearing this line every Sunday for a month or so now from our priests here in our parish. No. I have nothing against religion. I can safely say that I’m a Catholic, just not that devout like my family is. And that, probably, is the reason why I think the moralists preventing the passing of the Reproductive Health Bill is just utterly ridiculous.

What? You want more people in our already over-populated archipelago? Do you not trust your kids to do the right thing? (Hmm…not really a good argument. Haha.) Those who came up with the bill are just being practical and right. It’s the freaking 21st century, unless the Church will launch a crusade like it did in the medieval times against horny people, mankind will have sex--protected and planned or not. Might as well be safe while doing it, right?

What about the sanctity of marriage? I don’t wanna go there. Frankly, I don’t wanna go up against the super scary forces of those old women in blue uniforms (not hypocritical at all) and the equal rights for everybody groups. I’m just keeping my mind open for what the RHB can and will do for us. So, please, spare me from the campaign against sex bill. It’s not even fully about sex. Unless, it’s a line for a guest list…I ain’t signing nothing!!! (--,)

Chuck Versus the First Date

“My name is Charles Carmichael, CIA Agent, and this is MY trap. I don't think you gentlemen realize the gravity of the predicament that you're in. You see, that phone call you made to the Buy More? Yeah, we traced that. Your compound is currently surrounded by 23 infantry troopers, 16 snipers, 17 heavy gunners, 4 demolitions experts, and enough ammunition to orbit Arnold Schwarzenegger. You're outmanned and you're outgunned. Those peashooters you're holding might as well be sharp sticks and strong language.”

Oh, yes, our lovable spy geek is back…and methinks he’s here to stay. “Chuck,” one of the shows premiering this fall that I have been patiently anticipating for finally came, and what an opening it was. The sophomore season of this spy comedy looks promising and it’s definitely worth the wait. I was having trouble concentrating on my “multi-tasking” duties as I cannot contain my laughter throughout the whole episode. If each scene of Heroes: Villains was compelling, then Chuck Versus the First Date succeeded in making its viewers glued to the screen for its entire duration. Chuck Bartowski, together with CIA officer-slash-love interest, Sarah; Major Casey, NSA; sister Ellie and fiancé Captain Awesome (who stole the show with some comedic scenes); sidekick Morgan and the whole crew of Buy More…are all present for the ride. Hell, if Supernatural wasn’t so awesome two Fridays ago, I’d consider this premiere to be the best among the rest this fall season.

Without spoiling any major plotlines, yes, Chuck and Sarah were about to kiss, for real. [Giggles] The main reason I watch this show is because of their relationship. Kinda gives one hope that nothing is impossible. (Keep telling that to yourself!) A charming drip and a hot femme fatale--it could happen.

As if Tuesdays aren’t action-packed enough, now comes “Chuck.” Definitely, I won’t miss any episode this season, count on that.