I know how Tantalus felt.


He, Tantalus, was a king in Greek mythology. In an Abraham like twist of fate, he offered his son to the gods. But unlike the biblical patriarch, no angel appeared to stop him... plus, his human sacrifice was premeditated, and that small detail that he served his son in a feast. The gods were apparently appalled by parricide and cannibalism. The boy was resurrected by Fate, the goddess, piecing his chopped body parts together like lego. Tantalus was punished.

He was made to stand for all eternity in a pool of water that reached up to his neck. Whenever he bent down to drink the water, it would recede from his mouth's reach like a sadistic automated low tide. There are also fruit trees above him. Everytime he reached up to grab the fruit, the branches would raise them away from his grasp... like sadistic ents. That was his hell, temptation without satisfaction.

Although I find this method of weight reduction tantalizing (pun 100% intended), satisfaction is something I thrive on.

I am not a fan of Hannibal Lecter-ism and I am anti- of any form of -cide (homicide, genocide, insecticide) Plus I don't ever recall stealing ambrosia from the gods.

Yet, I find myself, more and more so lately, in Tantalus' water soaked shoes. I am swimming in a pool of letter sized papers filled ad nauseam with plans, specifications, details, comments, etc. etc. et cetera. The temptations that are within reach yet unreachable are free time and 8 hours of sleep.

While working on CAD drawings, the other half on my brain is busily doing three things simultaneously; planning ways to acquire the elusive free time, planning ways to spend it, and consoling itself that it will come sooner or later.

The Devil Wears Prada lies bookmarked, 3 quarters of the way, on my bedside table. Andy, when I left her, was flirting with the delectable Christian Colinsworth (who I've visualized as a more put together version of Ben Covington from Felicity) The book lacks the New York like pace of the movie, and the book version of Miranda Priestly comes out a tad too whiny compared to the regal bitch Meryl Streep played to utter perfection. Getting sidetracked here... My point... I left, and can't wait to return to, all the drama of Runway on my bedside table. I want free time!!! Arrrrrgggghhhhhhhh!!!!!

I want free time in a box.
I want free time with a fox.
I want free time in a house.
I want free time with a mouse.
I want free time here or there.
I want free time anywhere.
I want free green eggs and ham.
I want free time, Altenati-I-am.

Something I'm ecstatic to share...
I've blogged about the Tim Tang Test and last Friday I found some free time and spent it riddling. Check this out. Alas, It shows my initials and my last name, but heck it's soooo worth it. hehe

Labels: boo-freakin-hoo, i-rate, quarterlife

I am sitting on my bed marveling at my recent purchases. Everybody knows the satisfaction of buying, the power of purchasing, the unparalleled pleasure of trading bills stamped with the faces of heroes and past presidents for things... especially things you don't really need, but want... and even more particularly when they are inexpensive.

I went to three evanescent bazaars this afternoon with my sis, brother-in-law, niece and nephew. The first is an annual Christmas Bazaar at the Brent International School. They raise money for some cause, I've been going to said yuletide sale for four years now and I'm still shady with the details... I come for the merchandise. Christmas tree skirts, gold tinted candlestick holders, reindeer cookie molds, elf outfits for toy poodles... Red, green and glitter all over, it's as if Santa and a couple of multi-sequined drag queens exploded in the auditorium. Technically, these aren't what drag my lazy ass here, it's the little knick knacks hidden among them. Last year I found a complete set of the Narnia Chronicles, which I read like an avid ten year old for the week that followed. This year, I hit the jackpot...


Felix the Coin Purrs Purse
Retail Price: 70 pesos
Real Function: To hold change
Actual Function: To display my age whenever I draw the thing to draw change AND my penchant for monochrome felines. Hmm, hmm... Two birds with one stone! Me likey.

The next pit stop was a weekly sunday garage sale about 5 blocks away near this cool, relocated fifty's themed restaurant with waitresses on rollerskates. A lot of interesting stuff here as well, you just don't know what you'll see on the particular Sunday you go there. And I bought my very first...


Chicky Bank
Retail Price: 20 pesos (Beat that!)
Real Function: To hold savings in coin form
Actual Function: To have a delightful yellow ornament in my room that seems to have hydrocephalus. I know I'm not the only one hoarding 5 and 10 peso coins (I heard it was illegal or something) I've transferred the coins I have from their original container (a sunglass holder), and I've got the thing filled right under its bulbous head.

The last place was PEZA (formerly EPZA, and nope, I don't know the reason for the name change and pretty sure you don't even care... hehe) It's a clothing factory and weeks before the yuletide season they sell turtlenecks and 6 feet scarves and table napkins and what nots. I bought tube socks. *Yawn* Although they did sell some incredibly scrumptious "Chicken Nuggets". Not the frozen chicken fillets in sealed packages they sell in supermarkets, these are the streetfood variety. Basically, breaded chicken intestines. I just might convince a couple of friends to go back there just for them.

In the tri-colored pink (arguably mauve) car on the way back home, my nephew used a toy gun to shoot plunger like ammo that stick to the car windows, my niece bobbed her head feeling the pink dangling earrings swing on her lobes like pendulums, and I hold my coin purse of a washed-up monochrome cat and a ceramic chick with a head larger than its torso... I may be mistaken, but... I think I'm the adult.

Labels: baguio, blah (3x), kids-r-i, quarterlife

I never could relate to the anxiety highschool students in teen movies feel (yes, I have watched quite a number of them... blame everyone from Molly Ringwald to Jason Biggs) For the most part, it was exhilirating and even during the worst episodes, it was bearable.

Some recurring storylines in such movies:

• a cafeteria caste syste (best described in Mean Girls)
• an ugly ducking becoming prom queen (She's All That, Never Been Kissed, and Carrie... technically, Sissy Spacek did become prom queen despite the cow's blood and the fiery demise of a whole auditorium)
• enlightenment in detention (The Breakfast Club... a personal fave)
• a philanthropic teacher (Dead Poets' Society, Dangerous Minds... two more movies I really like)
• and, some form of sexual deviance with pastry.
  

My highschool didn't have a prom perse, it was an all boys school... correction, it was an all boys Catholic school. In our "prom", students brought dates. It was uneventful and appeared very Pleasantville-sque. We had teachers circling the auditorium like prison wards. There have been several attempts to spike the punch, but alcohol detectors hindered every single one of them. There were no prom queens, but many, I think the statistic now is the debatable 10%, would refute this.

We didn't have detention. Teachers chose either passive aggression, a visit to the assistant principal's office, or an embarassing letter to your parents. We had our fair share of really good teachers but none of them made us yell Walt Whitman's poetry on our armchairs and they didn't reward us with Butterfingers if we answered a Dylan Thomas question correctly.

Our cafeteria is more like a prison mess hall that always smells of sweat and cheddar cheese.

I loved my highschool. Those were four of my best years made memorable by the whole prison ambience and the fraternity between us jail birds. Our classrooms were nowhere near Vassar standards, heck I don't even think they were sterile. But, we never did open heart surgeries in these classrooms... so the air-borne bacteria and the mildew aroma was tolerable, even becoming.

I belonged to a semi-detached class known as the "Science" section... *Nerd Alert*. Contrary to popular belief, there wasn't much difference between our class and the "regular" sections... perhaps three additional subjects, a detailed lesson on how photosynthesis works, the expectation to comprehend advanced Chemistry, and a surprised look from teachers when you do something extremely dim-witted.

I am an admitted geek. Three classmates/friends and I used to play our version of Jeopardy... I know, this places geek on a whole new level, but our anatomy and demeanor didn't make us believable basketball players, which was what all the other students did. We made categories and questions, then alternated being Alex Trebek. One category I enjoyed immensely invented by Marcial was "Chemical Symbols". It was basically giving a clue whose answer is spelled with the chemical symbols of elements. For example:

Question: English Achtung
Clue: Calcium-Uranium-Titanium-Oxygen-Nitrogen
Answer: CaUTiON
(Get it? haha... we were weird eccentric)

This helped with the Periodic Table alot then. I never liked Chemistry before, I found the subject dreary and often times pointless. "You will need this when you graduate!", I remember my Chem professor declaring. Aside from cement mixing, Chemistry has not been at all useful in my profession. Although I did wish I listened in class more whenever I watch CSI.

The tradition of my highschool has died. It is now co-ed. It has been moved to a more antiseptic academic-looking building. Sad. Very sad. Although the old building is still being used, it would have been more appropriate to turn it into a museum with tours ala-Alcatraz.

"This is the cell... err classroom where Mr. so and so spent 4 years of solitary confinement. This is the torture chamber... I mean Chemistry laboratory. And this is the cell where 4 prisoners spelled words with Chemical Symbols."

Labels: baguio, flashback music please, movies, quarterlife

I am removing three words from my vocabulary... "Pohnpei Shopping Center". That's what's been keeping me extremely (and unwantedly) busy the past few days. I must have gone through a gazillion schemes of this project. I'm not gonna bore you with it. I leave my work at the office... well, most of the time.

I can't recall what led to the question, but on the way home earlier this evening, it was all I can think of as I closed the taxi door after I dropped Tine and Dona off. "What do you look forward to?".

It was Tine who said that lately she didn't look forward to anything anymore. Just as the words left her mouth, before Dona and I could come up with something good to say, the taxi veered to the right making the three of us hold on to seat belts and door locks and head rests. It was trying to overtake a blue Civic but was forced to swerve back by a speeding taxi on the other lane.

I dunno if it was the fact that we missed a head-on collision or if it was the slight whiplash... but Tine realized how morbid what she said was. She quickly muttered... "I look forward to my hot dinner. I look forward to sleeping on my bed, and I look forward to waking up in the morning!" to the ceiling of the taxi. We were laughing our asses off... telling the taxi driver we didn't look forward to bleeding internally.

You know you're getting older when you're typing some quarter-life crisis mumbo jumbo while some gag show on a loud TV goes unnoticed. Looking forward to Christmas or New Year has become ambiguous. When you're old(er), its the small, superficial things you look forward to.

I look forward to:

• My paycheck.
• Weekends and Days off.
• My 100th post. (Still a long way off)
• The Amazing Race and a delayed Project Runway 2 on Mondays and Distraction UK on Thursdays.
• The next episode of Grey's Anatomy courtesy of "Applewire".
• The next season of CSI Las Vegas. (How sad, I look forward to TV shows)
• The Transformers movie.
• The new Evanescence Album
• The new The Killers Album
  
• Finishing a compelling book and wanting more pages when you come to the last ten pages or so.
• Sleep. Glorious sleep. Deep REM sleep without an alarm clock, without noise, without things to do, and with a great dream that I remember.
  

On a different note, there is this circulating text message that a bomb would be detonated in SM City Baguio (a mall) on Saturday. I've never believed in "news" leaked this way, but I wouldn't mind lurking around the outskirts of the mall on Saturday... it may be morbid and a possible hoax, but it's something to look forward to.

Labels: baguio, blah (3x), list-o-rama, quarterlife

While I am typing, a saucer holding a slice of calorie-filled heaven is resting on my growing tummy... Nope, I am incapable of child birth. I need to stop eating this mocha cake with extra sweet icing... I am running out of comfortable pants. I don't look forward to my first mumu purchase.

This slice came from a half eaten cake resting on the top ledge of our fridge, a souvenir from my nephew's third birthday last Saturday. On the ledge beneath it is the second storey of a tiered cake from my brother's friend's wedding, untouched. For two days, whenever I need anything from the fridge, these are all I see... calling me... invoking my sweet tooth.

I am putting the fork down.

My nephew, Net, is a sweet, hyperactive and recently bald kid. I love him to pieces. He claims to be a Power Ranger and would hit you unintentionally hard with anything resembling a sword. On a good day, he is extremely charming. In one of our family reunions, My whole paternal clan was laughing and clapping when he danced uninhibitedly in the middle of the venue to a novelty song he really liked taking the attention away from older kids doing a performance. He was so infectious, he got our relatives with senior citizen cards and weak hips dancing along with him. On a really bad day, he throws impossible tantrums. I "think of a happy place" when he has one of them on my watch. He always makes up for his temper.

I had more fun in his birthday than I was expecting. Not only because the mascot ("Happi-Stinger") was hilarious but because I got to see my mom spell "SOS" using her knees with a balloon between her legs... in a business suit. I am not really big on parlor games, but watching friends and relatives make buffoons of themselves... priceless.

My nephew had a tremendous time chasing kids around the restaurant and accepting gifts with a euphoric smile. He used to be afraid of "Grimace", the Mcdonald's mascot (Who wouldn't be? Attack of the killer eggplant!) On his party though, He accepted the giant bee's hands without an ounce of hesitation. He is growing up so fast! *sniff*

And I am growing up so fast too! Circumferentially!!! Joy!!!!!!

I am REALLY putting the fork down...

Labels: B-days, blah (3x), quarterlife

Last night, my United Architects of the Philippines Chapter, UAP Summer Capital, celebrated its fourth anniversary. By professional organization standards, UAPSC is still very young. The 20 charter members of UAPSC were originally members of UAP Baguio but due to some conflict, which I can't piece out perfectly well yet (but my assumption is some communication problems between older and younger members), the younger members decided to secede from the mother chapter.


UAP Summer Capital has been chosen, after bidding, as the host chapter of the 16th (or 17th?, haha...) National Convetion of Architects (NCA). This will happen during the last week of October. The usual once a month meetings became a once a week thing because of the demands needed from the organizing committee. UAP Baguio has offered to help us with the preparations for the convention. The great thing is I can see the steady bridging of the gap between the two chapters.

Choosing which organization to join when I finally got my license was a bit of a dilemma. My college professors and some friends were in one chapter, while two of my mentors and some friends were in another. In the end, it became a decision of where I can be comfortable and where I can be "under the radar" more. The demands of my job then were too much to even schedule a monthly UAP meeting.

However, during fellowships like last night when we have a heated argument on who's the youngest member, when we recycle a small cake (5" diameter) to greet 6 birthday celebrants, when Arch. Jovit proves by dancing that he's the "sexiest man", when even our event coordinator endearingly called "Tsang" was downing a SM Light, when I have smoking classmates with uber hilarious stories, and when everyone (regardless of age or accomplishment) is just downright silly, that I am overly ecstatic I joined the chapter.


The closest comparison I could think of in relation to last night was a merge between a children's party at Jollibee, a gathering around a campfire and a night at a comedy bar.


It's very comforting to know that despite the mature outfits, the professional licenses, the jobs, the karaoke, the booze, the cigarettes and the looming convention... We are all still immature and capable of silly antics.

Labels: baguio, kids-r-i, quarterlife

Yesterday evening, I met my married friends Rai and Cheerie. It was a pre-birthday celebration for both of them. Rai's is on the 11th of September, he was dancing and getting drunk when 9-11 happened. Cheerie's is on the 13th, and when she was pregnant with Asti, we all hoped he'd be born on the 12th but it was a gestative impossibility. The great thing about Rai and Cheerie is you never felt like a third wheel when you were in their company and we never ran out of things to talk about.

I was at their hotel room sometime around 9 in the evening. I haven't seen them for about a year, they live now in Manila, but still I felt like I just hung out with them yesterday. Bert arrived. After catching up with the latest things Asti did and work and whatnots, we were headed to Cactus Bar. Rai was a regular there during our college days. He was/is an amazing bassist. Think of the songs of Kala and you'll get not only a good idea of the music his band played but also of his personality.


Syd Barrett Would Rock and Roll in his Grave

We were extremely disappointed by what the bar is now. It used to be one of the places-to-be, everyone dressed to kill, great local bands, beautiful people... beautiful music. Now, mediocre is an understatement. I haven't been checking out the local live-band scene lately, my friends and I now go for the bar with background music kind of scene. I guess its one of those growing-up things.

The other so-called happening places now are usually jammed with incoherently noisy gangster wannabes. I could appreciate, and even really like, some aspects of hip-hop culture like music, clothes and expensive jewelry (I am irked by people with no African-American heritage saying "bling"). However, the whole need for stabbing, unlicensed guns and a thirst for violence escapes me. I thought night outs are for good times and not visits to the hospital emergency room, I guess they changed definitions without me knowing.

Thankfully, Cactus Bar wasn't one of these places. It just became bland and boring. The torture did come, but in another form. The oily-haired, looks like he just came out of bed vocalist sang Another Brick on the Wall... terribly. This was an insult to Pink Floyd. I get the "image" he's trying (or not trying) to portray, but c'mon, take a bath for pete's sake. The greasy hair looked good on Ethan Hawke when he sang I'm Nuthin in Reality Bites, and you dear... are no Ethan. When the vocalist did Elvis' Suspicious Minds we paid the tab and left. How many songs must he murder?


A Hop, Skip and Jump

Across the street is 18BC, another buzz worthy bar during the golden era of barhopping aka our college days. It was a viable contender of Gimbals for the yuppie demographic then. Gimbals is now closed... a big loss *sigh*. It didn't seem as full as it did outside. We spent just a short while in the outdoor waiting area when a group of Koreans left. As we sat on the same red metal chairs, it felt like a time-loop... Nothing about the place changed. Well except maybe for the fact that the crowd was 50% Korean.

Koreans come to Baguio in droves! Mainly for a cheap English language education. Cheerie is an English tutor and we talked alot about the misadventures of the profession. How it all starts with a point-point teaching methodology, and later a barok type of English defined mainly by the use of nouns and verbs and the absence of prepositions and grammar. Bless these Koreans for giving us another source of employment. I find them a pleasant people always smiling and very fashion forward. I have yet to make a Korean friend to know what they are really like. All I know about them are the Koreanovelas I don't watch.


Space Flower and Access Band

Space flower is an amazing Ska band. Each band member, nine of them, wore suits and did something different with their head. One had dreads, another a semi-combed-over mohawk. One had a golfer's hat, another a fishing hat.


The vocalist looks like a chubbier Alan Cumming (fabulous shades included). As I've learned from a friend, any song can be Ska-ized(?). They did a couple of Bob Marley songs, some Frank Sinatra, some originals (really good), and some pop songs. When they did Lady is a Tramp, Cheerie and I wanted to get ur hair done and "dress to the nines" and use phrases like "I do declare".

Access Band is as much a staple in our bar scenes before as beer was. That night they did their memorable renditions of Half Crazy, Universe and Bongga Ka Day!.

We were so glad we changed bars. We left while Space Flower played Putre-ska's Manila Girl appropriately changed to Manila Boy to match the vocalist's gender. And on the other side of the road on our way to the hotel, we heard another ghastly rendition of a rock classic at Cactus.


Chasing Cars

On my taxi ride home, a dog out of nowhere was chasing us. I've always seen this strange canine behavior on TV but I never actually saw one. He chased us the whole length of Legarda Road. It made me think that a dog chasing a car was much like a generation gap. You hear about it but never really know what it is until it chases the taxi you're in. My mental juxtoposition of the bar scenes during my bar-hopping days and the current one made me realize I'm old(er). However, thanks to 18BC I'm comforted that the spirit of my bar era is still in a way, alive.

I hummed Snow Patrol's Chasing Cars in my head as I watched the BMW infront of us with its top down. I felt like I was in a 007 chase sequence and I was a back seat passenger in the villain's car.


18 BC Bands:
Space Flower Friendster Page
Access Band Friendster Page



Oh yes, before I forget. I was tagged by J. I'm gonna make this long post even longer!

6 Random facts about me:
1. I answer try Yahoo! crosswords everyday.
2. I hate the beans they put in halo-halo.
3. The first novel I read is The Prince of Tides.
4. The one I'm reading now is David Sedaris' Me Talk Pretty One Day.
5. I have a Spice Girls cassette tape. (don't ask)
6. My left hand is rapas. (a straight line running across my palm)

This tag ends here. I saw this meme on a lot of my regular reads already. Breathe a sigh of relief fellow bloggers...

Labels: B-days, baguio, memes, music, nyt-out, quarterlife

Before PS2, before the Xbox, before the Gamecube, before 3d graphics, before surround sound and sound cards... We had this...


Nope, its not a Tupperware product... nope, its not a transformer... and nope, its not a child's toy sold in Divisoria. Its one of the first and the bestest (double superlative required) game consoles ever made!!! The Nintendo Family Computer. I remember feeling so ecstatic when we bought our very own 32-in-1 tape (basically, 32 games in one tape) I know, I know I'm reminiscing again, that seems to be the theme with my past 4 posts or so. Its a phase I'm going through. Just humor me. Also, I have decided to post my top 13 thingy on every thirteenth of the month as a tribute to SV2G, but I can't help myself...

Here are the Top 13 kick-ass games of my generation... (Warning to younger readers: Obsolete games ahead)


Super Mario Bros. 3

No game console will be authentic without a Mario game. This is the third installment on the Famicom. It had flutes transporting you to future stages, It had a giant stage (where everything is enlarged except Mario) and it had a lot of minor bonus games integrated into it. This is the best Mario game ever if you ask me. Best feature: Mario flying and Mario swimming in a frog suit. Irritating feature: It still had that "Thanks Mario, But our Princess is in another castle" plot done in Mario 1.



Contra

"Up, up, down, down, left, right, left, right, select, start". This was the first game cheat I've ever known. It was a rite of passage into the Famicom gaming world. You had two rambo-like characters played by the first and second players who did somersaults when they jumped. Best feature: an array of gun types of which I like "Spread" the most. Irritating feature: The other player can steal lives from you. grrr...




Battle City

Two tanks protecting one base... Other tanks trying to destroy it. This is one of the best quick paced games on the Famicom. You could grab enhancements on your tank or your base when you disintegrate another tank (I think?!). Best feature: you could customize the map and make your base impenetrable and enemy tanks surrounded by water. Irritating feature: You can accidentally (or intentionally) fire at your own base, destroy the eagle and end the game.



Duck Hunt

Before counterstrike, before half life... we had Duck Hunt, the first first-person shooter game (I think?!) What's cool about this game is you used an orange gun you attach to the Famicom to shoot. Aim: shoot the flying ducks. Best feature: the orange gun. Irritating feature: A dog in the bushes laughs at you when you miss the ducks.





Bomberman

My Dad was more addicted to this than his children were (haha... I hope he never reads this) You control a weird white suited character who drops bombs like crazy to kill the enemy creatures and to demolish brick walls. Best feature: there are enhancements you can get all over the map, the best of which is the ability to walk through walls. Irritating feature: It's timed. I get all panicky when the timer counts down from 10.




Tetris

This game bored me to death but I know a lot of people who liked it. Its the older version of Collapse. You have to form straight lines to prevent your blocks from reaching the top (which means Game Over) while some Russian folk music plays in the background. Best feature: Its easy to play. Irritating feature: Its too easy to play.






Castlevania

I had nightmares from playing this game as a kid. You are a hero fighting ghouls and vampires using a whip, among other weapons. There are hidden doorways and hidden treasures everywhere. You're regular haunted castle. Best feature: The holy water flask, all surrounding creatures die when you use it. Irritating feature: the flying bats.





Balloon Fight

One of the most fun games on Famicom. You hold onto 4 balloons or so and fly around the screen. The Aim: to pop the balloons of enemies with your feet. At first, its depressing having your character plummet to the water below but once you get the hang of it, its sadistically fun. Best feature: the simplicity of the objective. Irritating feature: Enemy balloon poppers.





Kung Fu

This was our version of Street Fighter, Mortal Kombat and Tekken. You control a Bruce Lee like character who can do perfect broadway high kicks, and do it tirelessly if I may add. You battle your way through henchmen, ninjas and snakes so you can reach the end and battle martial arts masters. Best feature: Enemies blindlessly and voluntarily run into your kicks. Irritating feature: the sound your character makes when he does the kicks.




Ice Climber

Another fun Famicom game. Two eskimoes with mallets (or ice picks?!) climbing a mountain and hitting some creatures along the way. Your aim is to reach the apex and grab onto a flying bird. Best feature: If you find your co-player slow and unchallenging, you can leave them behind and have them leave the game. Irritating feature: When you're the one who got left behind.





Donkey Kong

You are mario, Donkey Kong has held your Princess and you must save the damstrel in distress. You need to jump over barrels, climb ladders and avoid the walking flames. Donkey Kong never seems to run out of barrels. Best feature: It gets your heart pumping when Donkey Kong throws three barrels in a row. Irritating feature: Those broken ladders.





Road Fighter

This is the first car driving game I've ever played. The graphics are so pathetic compared to Need for Speed and other racing games now but the gameplay is as exciting. (haha... I'm totally gonna defend the Family Computer). Best feature: It is played from the top. I get nauseous when I play a first-person racing game. Irritating feature: Those cop cars.





Galaga

Fighter spaceships shooting alien flying thingies. This is also a fun arcade game. Best feature: The feeling you get after the first time you do the two-spaceships side by side (as seen on the picture to the left). Irritating feature: The way the fly spaceships look like when they come nearer and nearer.








On a more disappointing note, The Text Twist game I've been taking care of for the past months has ended out of sheer stupidity. The game ended on the word "SCAMPI". I hate that word, which as it turns out is a shrimp dish with garlic. The PDA version of the game can be paused hence the 17 million score. haha.

Labels: area 13, idiot box, kids-r-i, quarterlife

I never liked Jessica Simpson. Celebrity divorcees seem to gain insta-fame after the break-up. Jennifer Aniston post-Brannifer makes a zillion movies, Nicole Kidman sans psychotic- nearly- killed- Oprah Tom Cruise goes off to win an Academy award. Anyways, back to Jessica... I love her new video "A Public Affair". Not because of the disco throwback (ala Kylie Minogue), not because of the darling Christina Applegate... but because of the rollerskates!


Flashback: I remember the Burnham Park skating rink. Burnham is one of our major parks (like a less glamorous, smaller NYC Central Park). In grade school me and my siblings would skate tirelessly around that concrete rink. We did it without helmets, knee pads or elbow pads. I learned to skate on one of those metal skates that had leather straps. It didn't have shoes attached to it so you used the straps to attach the tetanus skates on your regular shoes... Those skates were heavy and extremely painful. It had protruding screw heads that left marks on your soles. I still have a scar on my knees from learning to skate.

In highschool, The skating rink was one of our main hang-outs. Baguio was so much better then, less people, lesss cars, less traffic, less pollution... We'd were casual clothes under our uniforms and it was straight to the rink after dismissal. It was the Saturday afternoon place-to-be then. That's where Boys' High (exclusive Catholic boys school) and Girls' High (exclusive Catholic girls school) converged. We'd skate until night, the rink had halogen flood lights. There was the occasional awesome skater who did twirls, axels and led caterpillars (The awesome skater skates backward and holds onto another skater, other skaters would hold onto the hips of the one infront of them creating a rolling Conga line and the awesome skater would lead us into zigs and zags and number 8's)

There were two other rinks then, both in Camp John Hay. An indoor skating rink (aerobics center on weekdays), It had wooden tongue and groove flooring that made you vibrate when you skated across the grain. There was also an outdoor skating rink at Scout Hill. (Baguio residents... I know you've been there)

Skating, unfortunately, has become obsolete here. The Burnham skating rink is now used for bikes and concerts (not done simultaneously... although that would be a fun idea) The Skating rinks at CJH are now demolished. They turned that once free-for-all recreational area into a semi-exclusive country club. Exclusivity sucks. Country clubs suck.

Teens now are too eager to grow up. If only they knew that that age is best experienced as teens. They rather go to bars than to "skating rinks". I can't stand bars with loud underaged kids.

What I'd give to have the skating rink back.

Labels: baguio, kids-r-i, music, quarterlife

I have posted 20-something posts now and I noticed something. I inadvertently attached images of cartoons to most of them. I can't figure out why yet.

I remember as a child how watching cartoons became my first form of rebellion. We were always made (no... forced!) to sleep in the afternoon when me and my siblings were still too young to protest. We'd pretend to sleep (snoring a little to add to the effect). When my mom or nanny was satisfied in confirming we were asleep, we'd turn on the T.V. (volume to minimum) and watch afternoon cartoon shows. Of course, we'd occasionally get caught.

Cartoons then ranged from the cutesy Care Bears and My Little Pony to the violent but save-the-day Thundercats and Daimos. I learned some of my first life lessons from these doodles. Garfield taught me to hate Mondays. Linus (Peanuts) taught me to love Christmas (and to hold on to security blankets) He-man taught me one man can save the world and The Smurfs taught me that a whole civilization can survive with just one woman.

Kids nowadays have it all. My niece and nephew watch cartoons 24-7 (adults always lose "The Battle of the Remote") Then... watching cartoons was a reward for doing chores. You could only watch them on weekends and afternoons for holiday-weekdays. The longest back-to-back cartoon shows happened on Sunday mornings. After church, we were allowed to watch cartoons until lunch time (this was during the whole Mr. Bogus - Ninja Turtles era)

Growing up is like a sieve. The holes of the sieve get wider as we grow and more of the things we like pass thru the mesh into oblivion. I can't see the appeal of some of the 80's cartoons anymore. I saw reruns of the Care Bears with the kids and I wanted to shoot myself 5 minutes into the show. Those bears are insanely naive!

I like my cartoons with a dash of sarcasm, 5 tablespoons of irony and 6 cups of black humor. The Simpsons is one of my indulgences. Yellow-bellied humor and Homer's slapstick eccentricities aside, it always has a multi-layered plot and the characters (major and minor) are well-developed stereotypes. Other cartoons that I find stimulating are Hey Arnold!, The Family Guy, Dexter's Lab and Southpark. Cartoons that I absolutely love but have already ended are Ren and Stimpy, Beavis and Butt Head, Aeon Flux and Daria... all of which aren't for kids.

I like cartoon characters for their permanence. Bart will always be 10 years old. Butt Head will always wear the same AC/DC shirt. Kenny will always be resurrected after every episode. The permanence of their appearance and demeanor is comforting in a sense.

I also like the consistency of cartoon characters. Homer will always be stupid and in-your-face... Homer will always be Homer. You can't say that about real people. The lovable (oh so fabulous) Karen Walker (Will and Grace) transforms into Megan Mullally at the end of every taping and regains a normal voice, losing the high-pitched one Karen has that everyone loves. Sadder transformations... William Wallace aka Braveheart doesn't remain as a face-painted Scottish hero... He gets arrested for DUI. The adorable kid from Jackson 5 doesn't sing "I'll be there" forever... He grows up, discovers plastic surgery and creates Neverland.

Cartoons have helped my generation (I think) cope with the more real events happening around us... an escape from reality. That, I think is their appeal.


"Hi, I'm Alternati, I'm 26 and yes... I still watch cartoons."

Labels: blah (3x), idiot box, kids-r-i, quarterlife

There are some truths we know. There are some truths we wish we knew. There are some truths we wish we didn't. There are some truths we wish we could've known earlier. There are some truths we wish we could've known later. There are some truths we fear knowing. There are some truths we wish to forget.

Ignorance... they say is bliss. Some also say that what you won't know won't hurt you. But others will contradict by saying that you can never hide the truth. The bliss of ignorance has an expiration date. So would you rather know now or later?

Truth... they say sets us free. But they also say that truth can make you mad. Some truths can leave us lost and confused, forever bound by the shackles of doubt and despair. If you were to die in a week, would you want to know so you can anxiously prepare for it or would you rather not know and enjoy your remaining week without fear?

They say you cannot change the truth but the truth can change you. Truth and consequence. There is no "or". Every truth comes with consequences. Every unknown truth comes with consequences too. The truth hurts. Not knowing the truth also hurts.

Knowing the consequences, to know the truth or not to know the truth... That is the question.

Labels: boo-freakin-hoo, quarterlife

I had a rude awakening today at that hideous monstrosity of a building known as SSS. I'm getting insured, I've lost the deluded invinsibility of youth, that "that-couldn't-possibly-happen-to-me" mentality that makes me (or at least USED to make me) totally fearless. Where did my youth go??

I miss the carefree days of immaturity. When your biggest problem was waking up early for school and the source of your biggest joy is a christmas present. The excuse to be irresponsible is a luxury. Don't get me wrong, independence is wonderful... the absence of parental supervision, late nights, alcohol, nicotine, etc. etc. But with independence comes responsibility. Jobs, bills, health, mortality and every mundane and morbid thing in between. When did the slow erosion of our idealism start? When did we shift from cartoons to CNN? When did we start living in the "real" world? Last I checked I was still in La-la land where anything was possible. Age creeps up on you and.. surprise! its there staring you in the face in the form of an SSS RS-5 Form.

Growing up is such a pain in the ass (my psyche is shouting Peter Pan syndrome). I can totally relate to Jesse (Before Sunrise) "I always think that I'm still this 13 year old boy, y'know who just doesn't really know how to be an adult, pretending to live my life, taking notes for when I'll really have to do it. Kind of like I'm in a dress rehearsal for a Junior High play." In certain gatherings where you're expected to be an adult I find myself mentally checking what I do, editting what I say because that's how I think adults should act and speak. I think I'll never truly know how to be an adult... But I sure do make a flawless impersonation of one.

Labels: blah (3x), quarterlife