"Para sa mga taong inlove…indi inlove at maiinlove… LOL!!!…"
WARNING: Not suitable for people under the influence of lovelessness... Cupid's guidance is suggested...
Before I said 'goodbye workie & hello weekend' today, Flor (my team's WF scheduler & Ka-telebabad sa work) sent me this 'cheeeesy' email ("love cheetos" I would say) that capped my week. I was laughing and literally pulling my hair off because of how artlessly funny these phrases were structured.
See for yourself.
Pampataba ng Puso...
Remembering Papa...
As my family is going fast forward to go to Papa's place at Kalasungay... I'm pausing a bit to post this memorial note that I published in Facebook last Father's Day (June 21, 2009)... Sharing it again to everyone... 
MY ROCK...
From the moment we lost Papa to a massive heart attack last May 14, 2009 to the time we sent him to his resting place six days after, his 69 waking years photo-played to us in full color and grandeur. The stories and anecdotes shared by mama, his siblings and relatives, his close friends, and even his apos made me appreciate more how Papa journeyed the world as an upright son, a loyal friend, a persevering brother, a doting lolo, a faithful husband and a hardworking provider.The way he lived his life came home through the outpour of caring messages, prayers, flowers and faces who paid their last respects. The generosity of relatives and friends were far more perplexing.
Two days prior the burial, I told one of my bestfriends that Papa’s passing was very arresting to me, because in loosing him his hard headed youngest found his real self.
His passing made me recollect the life rule that he edified for me to go by –“to make every day count.” His and Mama’s modest parenting armed with that rule continue to lead me to a world of beautiful stress, miracles and incredible friends whose definition of care is yet to be uttered. Really, at the end of Papa’s life, the job that he had, the home that he proudly built, and the farm that he painstakingly tilled were eluded by what I and my sibs have become because of him.
Despite the countless good things mentioned during his wake and the things that I’m starting to parley, you might think that Papa’s perfect. No he’s not and I never dreamt of him to be. I grew up seeing him to some extent detached and yes his smile is very costly, that you need to push hardwork in school to the next level to get that worthy grin on his face.
As his kids started to pursue their lives and his youngest with his conquests... their merits no longer satisfy him as before, yet his face became brighter. Why? This is because his crowning glories are increasing in numbers and are growing up (needless to say... more hard headed than I am)... his apos. His wistful glees are more manifested during Sundays and holidays, especially when he’s surrounded by his noisy and messy apos. This time the more noisy and messy his home becomes the more smiling he is. Sundays and holidays will never be the same again, we’ll miss his smile, notably his beautiful idea of peace at home around the clatter and clutter of his apos.
The 100-meter march from St. Ignatius Chapel to Papa’s tomb last May 21st was by far the longest walk that I took, yet the most humbling experience not only because of the throngs of people who accompanied us to bury him but the realization that life’s hard, but my hardships are nothing against the hardships that my father went through in order to get me to where I started. Humbled that he didn’t tell me how to live; he lived and let me watch him do it. What is more... he watched me lived my life with a very accepting heart.
“Pa, I can’t thank you enough… for loving us unconditionally... love you more..."
My Love Affair with Iterax®
The financial gains of working in an outsourcing industry have all its perks but the major drawback is the way it warps your sleeping segundos. With the ten-hour shear stress in managing a team, and the responsibility of opening my line 24/7, how and where the freakin’ crackpot will I place to get a healthy space for me to get my Zzzzs. On a normal workday after logging out I would normally rush towards the available cab parked outside our building, superbly excited to put my back on my bed and go to dreamland. But wait, after resigning to my silo for the day I have troubles in even getting a wink. It would take me five to six hours to doze off.
Yes!!! I have challenges in initiating and maintaining sleep for years now. I’ve counted several flocks of sheep plus pictured perfect meadows with Victor, Jake and Enchong as my shepherds (yes that’s Basa, Cuenca and Dee) but to no avail. I’ve tried several sleeping tabs and sleeping aides, but they can’t just run through my nerves. For a walking toxin like me, the pharmacology of these pills is not working for me. Inside my system they don’t work the way they were made for. I tried a sleep aide cocktail once and vowed never to do it again (teehee!). Sleeping is really that difficult for me.
Until I met, the glorious Iterax®, it was one of my colleagues who advised me to try it months ago. Actually, Iterax® (Hydroxyzine diHCl) is an Anxiolytic/Antihistamine/Antiallergy drug and one of its side-effects is drowsiness. For more, Iterax has proven to be of value in relieving temporary anxiety (Yipeeee!!). After a very short courtship, I fell in-love with this pill because the affair-effects were phenomenal. Unlike Vs your body will not ask for more, 10mg’s and you’re off to dreamland. Did I say that - you can get it over the counter and it’s very cheap? Yes you can get it for less than 20 pesoses… I guess the big bonus for me is it helps manage anxiety.
For what it’s worth this drug chemically worked for me and I love our romantic affair for now!!!
Image from ehow.com
My Fujiwhara
“Two tropical storms colliding,” that’s how they define Fujiwhara. The word became so common lately after Typhoon Parma (“Ondoy”) interacted with category 5 super Typhoon Melor (“Pepeng), impacting the movement of the latter making its second landfall at Northern Luzon.
Oooops! I’m not a weatherman (Am I swishing already?) or planning to take a position at Philly’s weather bureau… Then why the hell I’m chattering this phenomenon? This is because Pinkjadedknight is undergoing his own fujiwhara of sorts… just cooking some metaphors dahlin! (Teehee!)
Pinkjadedknight is in the middle of two conflicting storms… decisions colliding and ambiguities rotating around one another as if they are figure skaters doing acrobats inside his head. One misstep and they will end up crashing on solid ice. These blips in his “meteorological” radar have been disturbing his atmosphere for quite sometime now. Wrecking havoc to his sanity, so to speak. Pointing to his self-assurance absentia, the kind of fear that this freakin’ faggot has in terms of where he’ll pick himself up once he starts regretting whatever he decides upon. For an egoistic prick like him failure is as deadly as a category 5 tropical storm.
Why can he not assure himself that like the nature of a fujiwhara that when two tropical storms they don’t blow up to one perfect storm?
Why can’t he just be spontaneous?
Why can’t he just…
Image from http://weblogs.sun-sentinel.com
Happy Singles Day
One of my direct reports – Dhon, came walking and stomping at my spine early today, greeting everyone “HAPPY SINGLES DAY!” In which I retorted (with smugness!), “IS THERE REALLY A THING?” Yes… there he was all smiles… days after he wrote an open letter to his Once-Pooh (now already enjoying someone’s carrot instead of his honey). Well it’s commendable to say the least that he’s taking everything lightly (for someone who’s never been cynical when this elusive L, that you all call LOVE, which I call LOCO), or is he really happy or just painting a façade? Hmmm…
Well… Single? (me panting!) Ask me? Dang’it! I’ve been single since time immemorial and I constantly prowl every time this becomes a dessert discussion or a cohol topic. My team (the group who loves heckling my heart) would always tell me that it’s my fault why I’m still unattached. They can give you a hundred and one reasons why their “cynic” boss is still single. My resignation always is I’m busy, I’m married to my job, I have priorities… and all the brouhaha!... Hmmm… it’s a choice!
To be frank and honest, my heart sits inside a fortress. An impenetrable and impermeable stronghold, assembled from bricks of fear and delusions. Yes! I’m terrified that my heart will be broken into pieces if I go ahead and commit, also I have this false impression that in taking the pink road you would never find a perfect love. I’m proud that I’m free and single but as months pass the freedom no longer interests me. My life’s no longer hearty, hence the word. DAMN ME!!!
How will I fix this? How will I put this heart back into working order? Can you smell desperation? LOL! To be candid about it… I don’t want to be left-on-the-shelf… Neither you, right?
Image from http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3132/2631198382_5b34e833f7.jpg
Yasmin Ahmad : Storyteller
Yasmin Ahmad (July 1, 1958 - July 25, 2009) was a critically-acclaimed multi-award winning film director, writer and scriptwriter from Malaysia and was also the executive creative director at Leo Burnett Kuala Lumpur. Her television commercials and films are well-known in Malaysia for their humour, heart and love that crosses cross-cultural barriers, in particular her ads for Petronas, the national oil and gas company. Her works have won multiple awards both within Malaysia and internationally. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Yasmin_Ahmad
Clips below are by far two of her outstanding works that I've seen:
IMPERFECTLY BEAUTIFUL
RICH SON, POOR SON
These two ad-clips blew my feet hitting my very core. Even the hardest of the hard will be knocked over with the humanity of its message!
REM Horrible Animations
A cold creaking sound is the only thing audible on a very stoic and pin-drop silent afternoon, as we opened my friend’s casket. His dead human form now lays in full view to his family and friends who’ll dearly miss him. He was wearing a well tailored tux and his cheeks look so alive that he seemed he’s just dozing off. Good make up," I said to myself. "I still couldn’t believe that he’s dead, and I was given the honor to carry him to his grave. As one of his closests, I am one of his pallbearers, which is by the way a first for me.
As I was looking at my friend's dead body, I begun to reminisce the time we met, recollecting our crazy moments, his vanity & sanity, his laughter, the very time when he pulled me up when I was at my worst… tears begun to swell in my eyes and I started to hyperventilate… And there!Spoof! I woke up from that morbidity… with my heart throbbing very fast; my system sucking all the oxygen it needs; and my thoughts perplexed for the meaning of that dream, my system went in suspended animation for the reason that it was the 3rd eerie dream that I have for the night… Yes THE THIRD… and by far the creepiest. The friend that appeared dead in my REMs is very much alive.
So I decided not to go back to sleep. Who would? Who knows where the dream fairy will take me the 4th time. I turned my lappie on, and went online. After updating my Facebook status to – “... Woke up from a series of ghoulish dreams!!!.” I opened Google and frantically typed “dream meaning” on its search box and whooolah according to http://www.dreammoods.com/ -
“To dream that you are burying a living person, signifies emotional turmoil. Alternatively, it suggests that you are being buried by problems and stresses of your waking life."
Stress? Yes I have my daily dose of it everyday. Overdose to say the least. But by far, the past seven days was one of the most dreadful waking weeks of my entire life. I was under a lot of failures, horrors and in-between frustrations. To add, painful because I just kept it inside my silo. For seven days I was stuck on a crossroad of a life-changing decision. No decisions made as of yet but I’m very grateful for being blessed with a very loving family, encouraging friends and a very loyal team who are very supportive to what I will be deciding on. They are the very reason as to why my sanity is still intact as of now, and continually fills my glass of optimism with MLs of hopes that the sun will still shine on me tomorrow.
image from www.mindcafe.org/
