Gossip Girl and the Non-Episode of the Year

S,

Wherefore art thou? I need you. It's almost that time of the year.

I'm floundering in the ravages of time, battling this sea of uncertainty that I know will come at least 25 more times in the coming years. I need anchoring. I need to come up for air. I need music. I need to play the piano. I need Debussy. I need Neruda. I need chismis. I need a chiropractor. I need a Philadelphia Roll. I need swimming lessons. I need a good night's sleep.

I need something illegal in my system. I need a shoe addiction. I need a chain-smoking paragon of depravity. I need cheesecake from Bizu. I need foie gras stuffed with truffles. I need a friggin' Parisian sidewalk cafe. I need action. I need adventure. I need my own cable station. I need another credit card. I need a Roman holiday. I need a ride to take me to Bicol and back next month. I need deliverance.

I need to friggin' get out of this place.

xoxo...
V

(P.S. OT ka ulit this Sabado.)

Ode To The Best

Slippery, mush-ridden slopes ahead. Be forewarned.

In my 24 years of being, I have experienced being hated upon sight. Not because I bear such fine features--the type that can turn the normally docile into the picture of eyebrow-raising cattiness (yeah, I wish)--but because I look a certain way. Sometimes, I get to correct these misconceptions, to a certain extent. But I suspect more often than not, they go unchecked. Because they can sometimes be quite inane, to the point of ludicrity (if there is such a word), I don't really care much. But the experience has taught me that sometimes, all you are to people are a preconceived notion that fits into the mold that reinforces how they think the world goes round. Now who am I to disturb the peace and shake up their perfect little world? I'm just a bystander, a stranger passing by in the annals of existence. Who in this world isn't?

But sometimes, you have the good fortune of being pleasantly surprised. You find out that your role in the overblown musical that is life doesn't have to be limited to being a lamp post. It's one of the never-ending mysteries of life, much like witnessing the birth of a baby or winning the lotto (none of which I've experienced firsthand). Because despite being who I am and what I am (which is sometimes a living, breathing lamp post) and everything in between, I'm still somebody to someone. And I should know, that ain't no easy feat.

To my best friend in the whole world, thanks for being who you are. For being there for me even when I wasn’t all that I was supposed to be. For not hating me when you had reason to. Thank you for loving me, for knowing and accepting the real me, even when you didn't understand me. You didn't have to, but you did. And good luck to you, you still do. Through you I’ve come to know and feel the meaning of love, goodness, forgiveness. Through you I’ve come to know true friendship. You truly are the best person I know. Peksman.

You don’t know how much I want to be there for you on your special, sunshiny day. But all I can do is FedEx super duper grande venti hugs and kisses. Olive juice and best wishes, habibi! I'll be missing you even more, it's so not funny.

Remains of The Day (Yesterday)

So the end of the calvary is near. I'm ecstatic at getting my life back, and there's no other way to do it but with a vengeance.

Yesterday, the trifecta of running junkies from the consulting office--that's me, Bry, and Jer--got a little nostalgic running around the Ateneo de Manila campus with a bunch of teeners. We were there to support Jer's nephew, whose grade 7 class was having its family day, the highlight of which was the "Crossover Run for Gawad Kalinga", a charity fundraiser that was supposed to kick off at 6am but actually sputtered to life at 9am! Anyhow, it was fun, I actually got 5th place in the women's open run, for which I got a prize of two boxes of Enervon Prime (yes--that's milk for "old timers"!) Hah. Ateneans sure know how to take care of their constituents. What a riot, that place.

Now this Maroon has never gone the blue way, but I had a ball walking about and discovering the nooks and crannies of the grade school area (although I only got as far as the sort-of dorm, I think, lest I actually be trespassing on sacred ground). I got there a little early and decided to fix myself up a bit as it looked like the party was gonna take some time to get started (and hell, was I right). Snatches of flashback deluged this sleep-deprived head as I strolled past the buildings in search of the elusive ladies' room (hey, I just realized it's an all-boys school). Along with the rain that greeted the wee hours of the morning, the smell of the damp grounds and soggy grass was surprisingly invigorating. The gentle slope of the paved road, the brownness of tree trunks lining the street, the vague familiarity of glassed-in student message boards, everything brought on soothing reminiscence of an era long gone.

Fast-forwarding a bit, I was also thrown back to the time when the Buencamino Kid and I went jogging in these parts in between our midnight oil sessions. I remember during a rest period, we were lounging on the steps of some church or other similar-looking edifice, and somehow the usual light banter turned serious, and I was trying to avoid being argumentative and not give in to the sudden barb. I should have seen it coming; we were too much alike, and at the same time so very different. Eventually BK and I sort of withered away, but not until a few years later. It's a little sad, actually. Good thing there's running then.

Yes, I just had to turn unnecessarily maudlin. Never mind that then. To end, I have to say Ateneo was really pretty, as always, and being marooned in the place for a longer period than I signed up for, it felt like a communal haven that cosseted you from the ills of modern society. Never mind the socio-cultural implications of what I just expressed. I say this with fondness, and even with a little whimsy. Sometimes I do wish I went to an all-boys school. (As a boy, that is, you.) I'm sure it would have been a blast, even more so than going to an all-girls school. I dunno. I just feel there's a freedom to boyhood that's more all-encompassing and evocative of the spirit of youth. Either that or Soms, my McLovin-loving buddyboo, just had way too much fun in his heyday.

Quo Vadis, Bora Une?

This is my current shoutout in Friendster. Got it from KR, who in turn quoted Alex Garland:

..And me, I still believe in paradise. But now at least I know it's not some place you can look for, 'cause it's not where you go. It's how you feel for a moment in your life when you're a part of something, and if you find that moment... it lasts forever... - The Beach

I will miss 2006. Maybe not today, 'cause 2007 is still kicking and screaming and beating down my door, and it's all good. But at least when the happy storm has passed (and by some freak accident I delete all the pics in my PC from that era), I will still have this to come back to.

Island Girl

Didn't think I'd be a sucker for feeling wanted and appreciated. KSP lang din pala.

When someone says "No man is an island," you'd hear me murmuring a protest in the background. Of course, I mean that in terms of non-absolute needs. You can ship me off to Mars and I'd thrive. Of course, I wouldn't know how to cook myself a decent meal to save my life, but there's always Lucky Me and takeout. And there's tons of de lata at the nearby supermarket, if you're not squeamish about gorging on preservative-laden fare. Grocery stores are actually really neat places, if you're the type who likes reading up on and about what you're eating.

So that's how you take care of a need. On the other end of the spectrum, I believe in the essence of people. I believe in teamwork and the power of communication in getting things done. Like, I'm totally clueless with maps and contraptions that have numbers and geometric figures etched on them. But that's what the unassuming passers-by and the tambays are for. ("Yung bus stop? 'Ayan oh, sa harap mo!") If asking for directions was a racquet sport, I could probably give Serena Williams a run for her money. Don't give me that look; I could out-"grrr" that girl anytime, no sweat. I may not look like it (I patented the malamya look in high school--they used to call me the Daria Morgendorffer of the batch, the thugs!), but I like running around. Never mind that I stop to ask for directions way too often. If the Barbies from All-Stars needed someone to fill in for them on the non-off-chance that they might be giving the Amazing Race another go, they can give me a call and I'd tell them right off, "Where's the pitstop?"

But to actually be dependent on someone for things that don't require a sense of urgency, that's not my style. You won't see me doing the kambal-tuko routine wherein you're joined at the hip with a buddy who's got more downtime than the clone PC that my brothers play games on back in ole ZC. Been there, done that. So 90's.

Thing is, I'm no nomad (only by circumstance). But I got a nomad's sense of adventure, that awareness of things larger than life sitting out there, waiting to be explored. As a result, my mindset is such that I tend to look forward a tad too much to the view of the forest while I'm climbing individual trees in search for that perfect nesting spot. In effect, I sometimes don't see what kind of tree it is. And by way of explanation, I shrug it off, saying I'm more of a beach person anyway.

But whether I get it right or not, I'm uber thankful for the big, little things that I stumble on en route to the finish line, wherever that may be. Like a funny-looking pebble that you chance upon on a pristine shoreline, its craggy facets hinting at a never-ending story. Like simple hello's sent out of the blue, flooring you like nothing else can. Like friendships that started off rocky and which you didn't think would amount to much. Who'd have thought I'd be a sucker for that big, little thing from the black hole that is Malabon? Wuv you, Zel. Hot mama extraordinaire. Vamos!

Nothing Short Of

It amazes me to no end how things happen in ways you'd never think possible. It's amazing how sometimes something comes along even when you never ask for it. That's what an old friend from way, way back is to me. Amazing. Crazy. Surreal. A friendship resurrected after years of nothingness. Mind you, it wasn't a pleasant parting of ways, but we were kids then so forgive and forget seemed the way to go. But this I never saw coming.

I'm amazed at remembrance, at the beauty of a moment lost and then somehow found. It's amazing how sometimes the tides of time cannot hope to compete with the seemingly faint wisp of a moment. It might seem as if the bedrock of friendship was solid enough to withstand the ravages of time. But to be fair, I can't credit this to the friendship that was too short-lived to make a dent in a memory that's even shorter; all of it was made possible by the big-heartedness of this person. My friend. My best from my baluktot-managalog days. (Although come to think of it, I'm still baluktot sometimes, owing to my being from the deep south.. But I digress.)

She's all heart, she's a true giver. And now I'm a believer. And I'm just thankful for another of life's little miracles. I hope I don't mess it up this time.

Ilusyonada and Ilusyonado on Break Mode

or "How to Entertain Yourself While Working"

This is how Jub and I communicate (don't be dismayed--it's only for 90% of the time).

//chatting commenced at 14:28//

[14:31] makiwasabi: tuloy kau mamaya?
[14:32] jubert4: not too sure pa kung saan ang dinner and chillin out.
[14:32] jubert4: but we're going to have a massage before dinner.
[14:33] jubert4: sasama ka ba?
[14:33] makiwasabi: di ko sure
[14:33] makiwasabi: depende
[14:34] makiwasabi: ano ba budget nyo for chilling out
[14:34] jubert4: like malaki ang budget... you know naman us.
[14:35] jubert4: depende kung sino ba ang kasama? tsaka ka lang sasama?
[14:35] jubert4: !!!
[14:37] makiwasabi: hindi naman
[14:37] makiwasabi: i mean, pag magkakaraoke kau, di nako go-go
[14:37] makiwasabi: u know na, hafta make timpi kasi the kids in china are like hingalo na and everything
[14:38] jubert4: the kids in china are hingalo?
[14:38] jubert4: just when did u make china's kids a priority?
[14:38] makiwasabi: duh, I’m like secretly concerned about the fate of the chinese kaya
[14:38] jubert4: are u like brad & angelina na?
[14:38] makiwasabi: heller, they’re like my bestfriends kaya
[14:39] jubert4: yeah i know!
[14:39] jubert4: eniwey, are u joining us for dinner nga?
[14:39] makiwasabi: not for dinner
[14:39] makiwasabi: kasi i have to do OT
[14:39] jubert4: for coffee? after dinner...
[14:39] makiwasabi: siguro. where ba?
[14:40] jubert4: wala pang final plans.
[14:40] makiwasabi: kasi i need to let the manong driver know now pa lang where to drop me off eh
[14:41] jubert4: you have manong driver? are you that poor na? what happened na to your private jet?
[14:42] jubert4: don't tell me you made benta the jet that i gave you...
[14:45] makiwasabi: eh kasi wawa naman the poor manong pilot, it’s like pago-OT-hin ko rin sya? he’s from china, u know
[14:45] jubert4: you have naman the capacity to pay OT.. why not?
[14:47] makiwasabi: kasi i decided to make bait and just give manong driver OT work instead of the manong pilot
[14:49] jubert4: oh i see. didn't know that you're that kind. but eniwey, we'll let u know later
[14:50] jubert4: then, you make sunod na lang.
[14:56] makiwasabi: okash


*******

Meanwhile in the background:

I'm currently feeling the vibe of Up Dharma Down. Uber fresh and full of spunk. These guys are spankin'!

Of Pastimes and Fast Times

Man, I am positively itching right now. Yes, itching, I tell you, to hold a guitar. The first bars of the song “Suntok sa Buwan” by Session Road are torturing me. (To refresh thy memory, check out my muzak at the sidebar southaway.) The song isn’t in vogue at the mo, and the lyrics don’t exactly bring to mind a vivid remembrance of all things bright and beautiful (or even otherwise). So I’m quite clueless as to how the song managed to hijack my inner gramophone and put itself on insta-replay. I've already downloaded the tabs and chords to the song a week ago. Need to brush up on my tablature reading and plucking first, though. Been out of practice for so long, I imagine brassy creaking to be the accompaniment my digits will be producing the moment I get hold of a guitar. I'll need to hang out at Lejan's place, of course, to slake this sudden urge of mine. Good thing she still has that guitar that her most infamous suitor gave her for her birthday back in freshman year. All we'll be needing then is booze (not that Lejan drinks; I don't, either) and some smokes (not that Lejan still lights up; I don't, never have). And how can I forget the other singular most important add-on to the setup: Gil. (Not that he sings or plays the guitar.. the last time I checked, anyway.)

Gil, Gil, Gil. What can I say about my best guy friend in the world? Well, for starters, we don't hear from each other anymore. Not like we used to before, anyway. The last time we spoke was in post-Abs July when we burned the telephone lines, talking about what went on in our lives during the yawning gap in communication prior to then. Sadly, our correspondence is now limited to sporadic forwarded messages and missed-calls. I miss the guy terribly. We lost track of each other for a coupla years and reconnected just a coupla months ago. It's sad that we lost touch, and even more so because I probably won't be seeing him for a long time. He's so far away now, studying and making a heck of a living in his hometown in Sorsogon. Among all the people I know in our batch, he's the busiest person I know who's handling the highest level of responsibility. For a 23-year-old, he’s pretty much up there already.

Of course, to be perfectly honest, some things you never see coming. Back in college, Gil was the most party-hardy person I knew. He was the ultimate BI ("bad influence" for the less informed), and Lejan and I used to relish stories of his and his posse's bad-ass ways. (Yep, we were such dorks then.) Gil was everyone's favorite blockmate, and you could always count on him for a good laugh. But what makes him a supah dupah friend is that he sticks it out with you through thick and thin, literally.

Gil was the wakeup call I needed to get me through some of my more icky moments. He was never tactless, and he dished out the painful truth without making you feel like you were the biggest retard on the face of the planet for not having realized it in the first place.

He's wise, too, in the ways of the wily. The breadth of his knowledge and his open-mindedness still take a lot of getting used to, but it all was a refreshing departure from the linearity in thinking of some of my closest friends. And I benefited from that, internally at the very least.. Indeed I like to think that some of it has rubbed off on me.

Gil's my best guy pal, but most of the time we spent together was when it was the three of us with Lejan hanging out. My absolute favorite memory of him was when, together with Lej, we were lounging around the Quezon Hall steps, shooting the crap as per usual. Spurred on by someone's stroke of genius, we decided to have our own little ice cream party that same night. So we dropped by Mercury Drugstore at Philcoa to buy a tub of ice cream and some Ferrero Rochers (his treat, of course; he's always nice like that). Then we headed for the Sunken Garden where, under a hazy canopy of stars (yes, Stef, I'm plagiarizing myself), we ruminated on a great many things about the past, the present, and the future that lay ahead in the vast milkiness of the night sky.

Looking back, I guess it was with a sense of foreboding that each of us realized that things as beautiful as the seemingly eternal present have a way of disappointing you. You get lulled into a sense of complacency in which you think that although changes happen, you can still count on certain things being fundamentally the same. And to a certain extent, this was what happened. But sometimes, the trade-off doesn't seem so fair. In our case, growing up had to necessitate the outgrowing of such spur-of-the-moment indulgences. But we could never outgrow each other, despite evidence to the contrary. I like to think that there's a time and place for everything and that someday an encore of the times we spent together is possible.

Lejan once asked me if it was possible that I would fall for Gil. While I love him to pieces and everything, I replied in no uncertain terms to the negative. See here, some things cannot hope to evolve. And sometimes they shouldn't…

I miss Gil like a bad love song from the mid-90s. You know the type that comes on the radio after long periods of hibernation? Then you find that you just can’t get the tune out of yout head coz of the warm, fuzzy feeling that comes flooding within.. I've been wheedling him forever to take a trip to Manila for business or whatever, but his uber busy sked is just too airtight. Hopefully by next year, Lejan and I can find time to swing by Sorsogon together and trespass upon his hospitality. Then maybe we can finally have our jamming session under the stars. In the meantime, I think I'll get cracking and brush up on my latent inner rockista.

Badminton Ain't For The Faint-Hearted

I heart Taufik Hidayat. Okay, okay, so considering that a coupla weeks ago, I had nary an idea of who he was, I can safely say that at the very least I really, really like him. Of course, not in the way that I really, really like David Beckham. And of course, a comparison to what I have for Marat Safin is out of the question. But Hidayat’s fancy wristwork and lightning agility, which have recently earned him the distinction of being the first shuttler to hold the Olympic and World Championship titles at the same time, have inspired in me delusions of athletic grandeur. Man, I wish I had an ounce of that guy’s talent. Following the plausible premise that we want that which we cannot have, which has that which we do not have (feeling lost? this would help explain why some of us tend to keep dreaming the Eternal Dream even when there's someone perfectly okay--then again, okay is perfectly relative--waiting for us when we wake up to sordid reality), I hereby conclude that I heart Taufik Hidayat.

Seriously now. I would love to improve my game and bring it to a level wherein the plays are characterized by dazzling legwork, sharp returns, and smashes that whizz past at breakneck speeds. I don't even care if I'd be the bumbling underdog; I just wanna play a mean game like that. (The term playing would presuppose being able to return the service and keep the ball in play long enough to not make you seem a total ditz opposite your opponent.)

I shared this with Jubert (my ESPN/Star Sports/Sports Plus buddy) and Zel (the closest thing I have to a badminton mentor). The last time we talked, I picked up a few pointers from Zel and came away wanting to immerse myself in formal lessons and grueling practice. On the court, everyone tries to steer clear of Zel coz when you're not careful enough, she can hurt you real bad. (I'm not just talking about bruised egos here.) Zel says she she's crap when she’s playing with her badminton club friends. I hate the implications of this. If she's crap, then that would make me pond scum. I can’t stand the thought of being pond scum.

Jubert, on the other hand, rarely subjects you to pain during play, although he's caught me by surprise once (I mean, the palpitation-inducing kind of surprise that could traumatize). When we're partners, we like to think we can get away with many things. But when the laissez-faire syndrome starts creeping in and we've messed up one shot too many, that's when the real fun begins, when the competition is neck-on-neck.

All this reliving of nifty play moments has got me all giddy for this Friday's game. Which reminds me. Gotta ring up Lejan to invite her. I sure miss that girl. Well, not Lejan the person per se (we see each other from time to time, after all), but Lejan the memory. Lejan the college partner-in-crime, from them Stat days of old. But that's another story to be told another time. Right now, I'm in the mood for a roar: Vamos!

when you have nothing to say but wanna say something anyway

damn. i miss everyone, and i haven't even really talked to anyone today.

you know what salinger's holden caulfield said about not telling anybody anything lest you start missing everybody? well, it's true. but in this case, i haven't even been talking about anything for the past 24 hours, as i'm still in bangag mode after a whole week of rushing my deliverables. and my calvary is far from over.

last week, i told stef that i was suddenly missing choi. for some reason unbeknownst to myself, while on board the pasay road jeep on my way home, i felt like whipping out my so non-snatchable phone and calling her up right then and there to just tell her i missed her. we used to be thick as thieves, choi and i, as thesis partners not so long ago in a galaxy far away in diliman. she's now working her magic over in the land of ninjutsu and j-pop (she's studying, mind you) while i'm here busting my ass as corporate slave extraordinaire. we once hatched this crazy plan to try applying for a scholarship in sweden (or some other scandinavian country, i forget) and actually going if we did get in. as we started talking about it some more and in a less feverish tone (meaning, we were actually almost kinda sorta serious about it), i was thinking to myself, she's one of my closest friends ever and i love her to bits and everything, but as much as i wanted to be with her in a foreign land and do all kinds of crazy stuff and all, i wasn't really feeling it coz i so didn't want to pull the joined-at-the-hip thing with her. it's not her, of course. it's me. i can't do the 24/7 thing with anyone, i'd go crazy. or to be fair, should that happen with anyone, they'd be driven nuts. no kidding. but i digress.

moving forward.. this week, well actually i haven't had the time to miss anyone in particular, not until today. i blame it all on multiple replays of my song du jour (wake me up when september ends by green day--check out the muzak section for a quick listen). here i go again. nothing evokes the mood for reminiscin' like this song does. i had the sudden urge to repost all the pics from my puerto galera trip with the people from valero last april in friendster. this i did, and then some.

i guess missing people is good, if only to remind yourself that you actually felt alive at some point in your life when most of your days were spent with them. of course, i'm not only talking about my torrid love affairs (haha! as if). i appreciate the fact that i have good friends right here right now. but that doesn't make the yearning for all those who are so far away go away, nor does it diminish it any damn bit. of course, there's the geographic barriers excuse. but what's really a bitch is the matter of emotional disconnection. you just aren't as close as you once had been.

now i'm left to wonder what they're doing, how they're doing, even who they're doing (hahaha! there there, just playing. you can pick up your jaw from the floor now =). inevitably, i get to wonder if they even miss me at all. despite being the biggest proponent for friendster/myspace/YM messaging, i fail to make good on my promises to keep in touch on a regular basis. of course, sometimes it's not even up to me, but it just gets sad because reality gets in the way. life gets in the way. sometimes we just have to move on, make new memories and just get out there and discover life with other people. while the past is all good, nothing really lasts forever. friendship does, love does. but the intensity at which you experienced life at certain points in time cannot be replicated. forgive me if i'm being vague again. lemme rephrase. the uniqueness of the moments you had during these times is what ultimately gets me down, because you can only hope for things to get better with them. and when you realize that that was it, that you're about to plateau (prolly coz you know your time with them is running out.. or not), then it all goes downhill. then you find other avenues that would provide you with the same kind of high that you once were fortunate enough to have experienced. you go out to party or karaoke or whatever, you have wonderful talks over coffee that last into the wee hours of the morning with other good friends, you hie off to the gym and badminton courts and playing fields to engage yourself in a high-stakes game or two just to get that endorphin rush. and it doesn't have to end there. there's also french language classes next month and muay thai and surfing (yep, why the hell not?) next year. possibly even skydiving, if your finances are agreeable. even if you're the introvert type, there's still nothing to really prevent you from meeting people from all walks of life that you might have super moments with. if you get lucky, they might even turn out to be people you might want to blow your 500-peso load on on a whim and call on your way home aboard a jeepney filled with unsavory-looking characters, not minding the static that calling across 50 thousand miles will give you. just to say you miss them.

all in all, memories are good. in fact, they're the best. but the thing is, even memories don't last. at least they don't the way they should. aging gets in the way. life gets in the way. i really wonder how i'll get through knowing this.

Summer Lovin'

galera, baby!


my girls and i partying to beachside beats

This is quite overdue. The "Walero" posse and I had a grand time catching the rays at good ole Galera. I had a blast faking a crawl by splashing about in shallow waters. Of course, how could I also resist showing Mylene, Karen, and Jubert my dog paddle? And let me not forget, the beach tiangge was divine! Now if I'd only brought enough moolah to score myself more loot.. Hopefully, an encore sometime in May will curb this summer hankering of mine. In the meantime, summer is spent indoors playing badminton. After working hours.. I so miss the palamunin life.