Wala lang, na-astigan lang ako sa quiz na to...
You Are The Champion
"Don't worry, I got it."
You play as the Hero. You are the one who usually tries to take on the world for any cause you believe in. You are a natural leader in most circles and are not afraid to take that position if a situation calls for it. Others look to you for inspiration and praise you for your acheivements. Even though they love and adore you, however, you are left feeling alone or overwhelmed many times. You're almost always positive and keep your chin up despite any setbacks because you know that you will succeed in the end, no matter how long it takes.
Which Classic Story Role Do You Play?
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Oh, and interesting Friendster forecast:
Someone might try to drag you into their drama. Be supportive and offer what help you can, but stay out of it. Your involvement won't bring resolution any faster, and it will drain your energy.
Life of the party
Had a hell of a time in Galera this weekend. Of course, it's hard not to have a great time when you have Nikki
, the life of the party.
Here's Nikki, mugging for the camera.
Nikki strikes a pose with Leks
Nikki and Frank
share a laugh.
Nikki and I pose as a guy from the other table looks on, jealous that his group doesn't have anyone as dynamic as Nikki.
Nikki and JAm
, talking about chicks.
Nikki and Ols smile for the camera.
Urk laughs at one of Nikki's jokes.
Nikki and Po
: bottoms up!
Nikki finishes one beer after another.
Nikki lights up a cigarette, and lights up the whole beach.
Nikki whoops it up for the camera.
Nikki calls it a night, so we all head back to our rooms.
More photos here
Samboy Lim rocks the socks
Watching the PBA's "Greatest Game" on TV right now. I can't believe Samboy Lim, who's still out there doing his daredevil drives and diving on the floor for looseballs. How can you not love the guy? Not only was he wearing his patented knee-high socks and eating alive the defense of Jojo Lastimosa, who was always Samboy's favorite snack back in those SMB-Purefoods duels in the late '90s.
Of course, Jolas is the fourth-quarter man, so he promptly hit a big three for his team's go-ahead basket. I guess these things never change. There was Benjie kicking the ball out to Ronnie (Magsanoooc, threeee poiiiints!!!), Ato Agustin hogging the ball, Allan Caidic posting up smaller guards, and of course, Alvin and Jerry sharing the same front court, perhaps for the last time ever. Allan Caidic won the MVP for Baby Dalupan's team, after which his counterpart Robert Jaworski joked in the post-game interview, "Ah, pinagbigyan lang namin sila."
(Bonus joke: Sinong baby ang matanda? Eh di si Baby Dalupan. Nyehhh!)
Cool game. Will post pictures from the Galera trip tomorrow.
I'm going to a nice place (a very very nice place)
We're leaving in a few minutes for the beach, a trip we've been planning for so long. Alekos
was so pumped for the trip that last night, he sent me a message, "Pare, excited na akong mag-Galera ah. Marami raw tao sa White Beach. Marami raw babae. Kinakabahan na ako."
and I were talking over Y!M earlier, and I told her about the trip. I joked that the boys were already trying to come up with the best pick-up lines.
Jona: "Sige nga, let's see if papasa."
Me: "How about this: 'Miss... mahal na yata kita.'
Pwede na ba yun?"
Jona: "Grabe, kaya pala wala kayong mga girlfriend eh."
Me: "Eh eto... 'Hi... can I add you in Friendster
Jona: "Ang olats talaga. Magpakalunod kaya kayo at umasang may hot babe na sasagip sa inyo. Mas okay ata yun."
I used to think that staying in my current job was like going out with a girl with no long-term potential:
the sex is great
you're having a great time, but you know it wouldn't last. Now, I'm having a great time with my job; between Angel Locsin
, the TV here at the office
, the arrangements that are so lax that I regularly leave for work after
I finish watching Eat Bulaga, and the fact that for the past month all I've been wearing to work is a plain t-shirt, walking shorts and flip-flops (and the only comment I got was from an officemate, who was gay, asking me where I got my flip-flops, because they were very nice, binili ng nanay ko sa Liliw), I mean, what else could I ask for?
But in the back of my mind, I always thought it wouldn't last. I always thought I'd get a real job again. One that would pay more money. One where you can't come in if heaven forbid you're wearing a shirt without a collar. One where you can't watch every NBA game on TV live in the mornings. Just like the one I used to have.
I used to think all of that, and while I haven't completely changed my mind, I'm at least reconsidering, because of some work-related stuff that has happened the last couple of days. I just completed six months on the job. Maybe I could stay after all, for the long term, and not just for the
perks. We'll see.
When I think about it, I can't believe I've been working for so long now. I could still remember my first job interview ever, almost three years ago, which even led to this IM conversation with Mark when I caught him online:
Me: "Pare, nakita ko na doon yung pinakahanap-hanap ko sa isang kompanya."
Mark: "Ano naman yun?"
Me: "Maraming tsiks."
My friends and I are planning a trip to the beach this weekend (which we've been planning for forever), and a few moments after telling my boss that during our weekly meeting, I find out that our long-delayed backstage trip to Eat Bulaga would finally push through this Saturday.
Akala ko pa naman makikita ko na sa wakas si Jopay. How ironic.
Which reminds me of this monologue by comedian Ed Byrne just ripping a new one on Alanis Morrissette for having no fucking clue what irony is:
"Rain on your wedding day? That's not ironic, it's just a pain in the hole."
"Ten thousand spoons when all you need is a knife? That's not ironic either, that's just fucking weird. But of course, if you did have ten thousand spoons when all you needed was a knife, and then the next day you discovered that actually a spoon would have done the job just as well, now that would be ironic"
"A traffic jam when you're already late. Now that's definitely not ironic. Unless you were a town planner on your way to give a speech at a convention on easing traffic congestion."
"Now do you know what's ironic? A stupid, whiny Canadian bint writing a song called 'Ironic' which goes on to become a massive worldwide hit despite her not having the faintest idea what irony actually is. Now that's bleedin' ironic."
Doo-a-dee-dee, dee-dee-dam, dee-dee-doo
"Ifi-feature ba natin bukas si [name of artista]? Cast siya sa [name of show] ah."
"Bakit, wala pa ba siyang info sheet?"
"Hinde, wala pa siyang career."
I sipped on my beer quietly as my cousins went on and on about their "girl problems", as I tried to push back my own "girl problems" to the back of my mind. I laughed along as they recounted their tales of eternal heartbreak and rejection, while they're obviously inebriated.
Then again, under what other circumstances could any of these macho man admit their undying love for that girl and how they couldn't live without her (at least until the next hot chick that shows them a modicum of attention comes along)? They had to be drunk. Which, I guess, makes all of it so fun.
Tita Roxanne passed by our table, to say her goodbyes to everyone as she was ready to leave. "You boys don't know a thing about love," she butted in. "Don't you know, all you ever needed to know about wooing a girl, you could learn from Beauty and the Beast
Everyone else didn't quite know what to say to her, so I broke my silence just to humor Tita Roxanne, "And what lesson would that be? That love is blind? That loving means letting go? That love conquers all?"
She sneered at me, "You know, you always were the smart one, and yet you could be so dumb about these things sometimes. The biggest lesson from Beauty and the Beast
that you need to know is that she meets her Prince Charming early in the story," she pauses for dramatic effect, while we all listened in silence, "but she won't discover that it's him 'til chapter three!"
The silly smile on my face that appeared almost instantly would stay on my lips until I went to bed that night. Perhaps I'm not Prince Charming, but there just might be something there she didn't see.
-- Never published, found scribbled on an old notebook last night, written sometime in May 2003, while thinking about her
"Well yeah. But you know what? I hate looking at those stars."
"Wow. Hate is a strong word."
"Uh, I guess. But you know, I just, don't like looking at them, not because they're not beautiful, because they are."
She was now looking at me intently, very interested in what I had to say next. I continued, "It's just that, they make me sad. I look at them and see how beautiful they are, but they never really become mine. They just become part of moments, which soon become gone, forever, except probably in your mind. And then you never know when you'll see them again this beautiful, it could be tomorrow, it could be next month, next year. And seeing something so beautiful, and to realize it could never be yours, it just..." my voice was cracking, and for some reason I was having a really hard time saying these words, like they hurt or something.
"It just breaks my heart."
"Hey, what are you thinking about?" she asked.
"Nothing. Have you seen 'Chicago' yet?"
"No, I haven't. Heard it was really great."
"Yeah, it is. Wanna catch it with me this weekend?"
"Uh, sorry. I can't. You know, boyfriend."
"Oh. Yes. Of course."
And then there was another silence, a different, lonely type. The sadness just became greater because this silence was all too familiar. In fact, the first few times it was so silent I imagined myself hearing something breaking. Of course, I couldn't hear the damn thing breaking anymore now; it's already broken.
Which is why why I keep coming back I guess. Broken, like a record, playing over and over again.
-- "Evening Stars", April 2003
At dahil dun, gusto ko siyang makita.
Ano naman ang sasabihin ko sa kanya? Na sa milyun-milyong bagay na iniisip ko sa araw-araw, siya lang ang talagang iniisip ko? O na sa bilyun-bilyong tao sa buong mundo, siya lang ang gusto ko talagang makita?
Actually, wala naman talaga akong gustong sabihin sa kanya. Feeling ko, pagdating ko dun, ngingitian ko lang siya, sabay hihirit ng isang makabagbag-damdaming, "Kumusta ka na?" na pinag-praktisan ko pa.
Pero ok lang yun. Gusto ko lang naman siyang makita. Wala naman akong sinabing gusto ko siyang maging girlfriend, o gusto ko siyang pakasalan, o gusto kong siya ang maging ina ng mga anak ko.
Gusto ko lang siyang makita.
Sinalubong agad ako ng isang kabarkada. Pagkatapos ng maikling pangungumusta (na hindi naman makabagbag-damdamin), tinanong ko kung nasaan siya.
Wala na. Nakaalis na daw.
"Pare, kung gusto mo talaga, bakit hindi mo na lang tawagan? Yayain mo mag-date. Alam mo naman yung number eh."
"Ayoko nga. Baka isipin pa niyang patay na patay ako sa kanya."
"Bakit, hindi ka ba patay na patay sa kanya?"
"Patay na patay. Pero hindi niya na kailangang malaman yun."
-- "Superhero", February 2003
Nobody knows it...
...but you've got a a secret smile, and you use it only for me ;)
I'm attracted to women who are attracted to men who have bad grammar.
I find it interesting that while Mark
are posting sonogram pictures of their baby (which looks amazing!), Justine
is posting pictures in her wedding gown (she looks lovely!), and Aissa's posting an invitation to her son's upcoming first birthday
(he looks cute!), the biggest life decision I've had to make recently has been choosing which of my friends I should invite to the FHM party
Boys' night out
Last week, Lynn
and I were talking about the previous night's Encantadia
episode when she suddenly digressed:
Lynn: "Hey, do you know anyone who'd like to go to the FHM party next week? I have several extra tickets."
Me: (tries not to type "Are you fucking kidding me?!?" and break down) "Uhm, I might know some people who'd be interested."
, Ivan, JAm, Rico, and I were at the FHM party last night. Alekos
was originally supposed to go, but yesterday he sent me a message: "Shit, ngayon ba yun? Sorry can't come, something came up."
Something came up? When I told the rest of the guys this, their reaction was: "Something came up? Baka someone came up! Kung sino man si someone na yun... sana sagutin si Leks."
So I had about a couple of hours to find a replacement. Should be easy enough right? I called Jonas, who was interested but already had plans. But he was with Po
at that moment, so I talked to Po thinking he might be free.
Me: "Pare, gusto mong pumunta, FHM party mamaya?"
Po: "Saan yan, sa Fort di ba? Ayoko, ang layo eh."
Silly me, I thought Po wouldn't mind the distance to see half-naked women.
Anyway, I called up Rico, who lives all the way in Alabang, and within something like fifteen seconds he was on a bus to Makati.
At the event itself, we spent a few minutes around the booths outside, with JAm posing with a couple of girls:
Unfortunately, they didn't allow us to bring the camera inside for the event, so no more pictures.
The event was alright. As I always say, shows are always more fun when bold stars are involved. Angel Locsin
was voted the sexiest woman (deservedly so). Too bad she didn't show up in her Darna costume.
Also making appearances were Aubrey Miles, Anna Leah Javier, Katrina Halili (who was surprisingly popular with the crowd), Katya Santos, and Francine Prieto, who inspired this exchange between me and JAm:
Me: "Lagi kong nakikita yan sa canteen eh."
JAm: "Ganyan din yung suot?"
Me: "Hinde, pero kumakain siya ng hotdog-on-stick."
Asia Agcaoili, who hosted the show, was either drunk or high (or both). Kjwan and Parokya also played. All in all, it was a good night.
I got a letter published in two of my daly sports reads today, Slam Magazine's Links column
and King Kaufman's column at Salon.com
. I sent the same letter to both, about Steve Nash winning MVP
, after both hated on Nash in their respective columns yesterday
And just how cool is little Stevie? De Quiros actually writes about him
today (although you won't read anything there that you haven't read here before, it's actually nice to see him showing some love).
In other Phoenix-related news, Jesus is actually a big-time Suns fan
. Apparently, the actor Jim Caviezel is good friends with a Suns assistant coach and is rooting for them to win it all.
has been writing about Encantadia
rather often lately. My favorite entry
, which made me laugh out loud:
Ynang Reyna has a knack for sowing rancor and discord among her daughters. First it was by opening her big mouth saying she didn't want Pirena to become queen, without having a good furtive look around to see if anyone was within earshot. Now it's by entrusting her daughter's ovaries to the one worthy man on which the butterfly will perch, and that lucky guy just had to be her other daughter's newly-realized Love of Her Life. Playing matchmaker is never a good move, particularly because you can't always trust butterflies.
The NBA announced earlier
that Steve Nash
has been voted the NBA's Most Valuable Player for this season, edging out Shaquille O'neal.
Like I wrote before, Nash is my favorite basketball player, even before he was an MVP candidate, so I couldn't help but be ecstatic over the news.
Nash's victory goes beyond him winning the award. It's a victory for team basketball. It's a victory for selflessness. It's a victory for the idea that sometimes nice guys do finish first
. It's a victory for every underdog. It's a victory for humility and class even after your greatest triumph.
I think the best story out of his winning the MVP award was written by Mark Purdy from the Mercury News
When he played basketball at Santa Clara University, I must have interviewed Steve Nash six or seven times. At the conclusion of each interview, I would ask: "Anything more you want to tell me?"
Nash, from the time he was a freshman, would usually respond with his own question. "Do you think I can make it in the NBA?" he would say, earnestly.
I would smile each time and tell him: "I'm no scout. But I am sure you'll get a chance." To which Nash would retort: "Whatever they ask me to do, I'll do it. I'll do it three times."
Saturday, I recounted this story to Nash's college coach, Dick Davey, who chuckled.
"He said three times, and he probably meant six times," said Davey, who had been receiving congratulatory phone calls all afternoon.
Tomorrow they'll play Nash's old team, the Dallas Mavericks, in the opening game of their second-round playoff series. Should be fun.
As long as the stars shine down from the heavens
I was surfing channels late last night when I saw the promo for ABS-CBN's new soap starring John Lloyd and Bea
. And my drink almost came flying out my nose when I heard that the names of the star-crossed lovers they were playing were Oliver and Jasmin.
I couldn't figure it out at first, but I finally got who San Antonio Spurs star Manu Ginobili (the Argentine Assassin) looks like:
It's Balki! Now if only Tony Parker started growing those Cousin Larry curls.
Friendster is a funny thing. Whenever I browse the site (which happens every now and then when I have to kill time at work), a bevy of reactions go through my mind while I go through the profiles:
"Hmm, single si [name of girl]? Text ko kaya siya. May number ba ako nito? Tanong ko kaya si JAm
(Actually, di ko to ginagawa, pero si JAm nagtanong ng phone number ni [name of girl] sa akin.)
"Wow, ang ganda ng kapatid ni [name of girl] ah. Kaya lang, baka patayin ako nito."
"Hmm, 'In a relationship' na si [name of girl]? Hmmph, ang panget naman ng boyfriend niya. Mas guwapo pa si [name of a friend na dating may crush, actually, may crush pa rin, doon sa girl] dito eh."
"Hmm, 'In a relationship' na ulit si [name of guy]? Eh di ba kabe-break lang nila ni [name of girl]? Eh si [name of girl], 'single' naman. Tsk, tsk, na-two-time to."
"Uyy, 'In a relationship' na si [name of guy]? Matingnan nga yung picture nila ng girlfriend niya. Uy, cute ha! At ang ganda rin ng kotse niya."
"Wow, ang ganda ni [name of girl, starts with a K] ngayon ah. Ang daming pics! Mai-bookmark nga..."
Anyway, I found a couple of interesting pics while browsing through Friendster which I'd like to share:
Found this at Ivan's album. When was this? My favorite part about this picture is that Leks
has that same dazed look he always has in the pictures I take.
This one's from Nikki
's. Nothing particularly interesting here at first glance, except for the fact that Cel
doesn't look like a terrorist yet. But if closely examined, LB people will recognize that the they're at a table at Homespun, our old hangout in LB. I miss that place.
Last night, my muse visited and I grabbed a pen and paper and wrote this. My apologies.
I used to write more often, much more proficiently than I do today. I used to do most of my writing during sleepless nights, not unlike this one, usually with some girl on my mind. Although I wrote about this girl on my mind fairly often, what I wrote wasn't necessarily about her all the time. But having her on my mind usually helped a lot, whether it was her I was writing about or not.
Some two or three years ago, there was this girl who was on my mind quite often. In that magical way the silence in the middle of the night brings back memories of the past, I find myself thinking about this girl once again tonight.
She was special to me, in a way I suspect she'll never fully understand. There's the fact that she's, well, almost perfect: she was gorgeous, she was intelligent, she was funny, she was creative, and she was a dear friend to everyone around her. Plus, the way she carried herself, she was every bit the princess.
But that's not the whole of it. After all, I've been fortunate to have met, in my life, a handful of girls who were every bit as gorgeous, intelligent, funny, creative, friendly, and, well, almost-perfect, but I never spent sleepless nights with these girls on my mind the way I spent nights with this girl on my mind. Simply put, there was something about this girl, something extraordinary, something I couldn't quite figure out.
And it showed too. Whenever I was around this girl, I was a train wreck. I wasn't unlike a thirteen-year old who had never interacted with the female population before, making terrible, terrible jokes, that is, if I hadn't been totally tongue-tied yet. All of which would have been understandable, except that I was in my 20s, and that I wasn't really shy at all, and I have had fruitful (and reasonably funny) conversations with every other female in my life (and with ease too), and that there was absolutely no fucking reason to get so fucking daft whenever I was around this girl. And all of that is part of what I couldn't figure out about her.
And so we go back to these sleepless nights, with me churning out words as a sort of way for me to try to figure it all out. And while I never quite did, these words allowed me to be articulate, cool, funny, witty, sweet, and, well, everything I could never quite be whenever I was around this girl. And while I've written tons of other stuff about other girls who were on my mind, the words I ended up writing when this girl was on my mind were among the most beautiful I ever wrote in my life. Or, at the very least, they remain my favorite, my most cherished work.
I don't remember when I stopped writing about this girl. There must have come a time when I didn't think about her as often, followed by a period when I thought about her only from time to time, and then finally a time when she was only on my mind rarely, if at all. I must have stopped writing about her right around that time.
I guess I've moved on. Sure, there were instances that would suggest otherwise, like that Christmas present, or that bouquet of flowers I sent to try to cheer her up because she was sick. But I left the card unsigned for the flowers, hoping they only brought cheers and not thoughts of me, and I swear both gestures were just borne of me trying to be nice. And while I admit that there might have been residual feelings involved during these gestures, they happened some time ago, and I've moved on since, even thinking about some other girl during the occasional sleepless night, although there were no words written, or at least nothing like when I was thinking about this girl. I have, in fact, moved on.
As much as I would like to think that she's moved on as well, I doubt she ever needed to do any moving on in the first place. To be sure, she was never, not in the tiniest bit, affected by my the way I was affected by her. But I could see that since the time when I was thinking about her often, she has grown a lot, and despite a few bumps along the way, I couldn't see any reason whe she should be unhappy, now or in the near future.
Was I in love with her then? No, at least I don't think so, although it wouldn't be unreasonable for any boy to fall completely head over heels with this girl. Today, we don't really talk much, if at all, which brought along with it the sad realization that we never really were particularly close to begin with. If that had dawned on me back when I was still thinking about her constantly, I would probably have been heartbroken, but like I said, I've moved on, and I could live with that.
And I could also live with these rare nights, when I think about her the way I used to think about her back when she was all I could think about. On these nights, I allow myself to think about things I would otherwise never think about, things that, in my mind at least, could have been.
We would have been great. Even if I don't have a car. I would hold every door for her. I would hold her hand and put myself on the danger side when we were crossing the street. I would hold her hand even if we weren't going to cross the street. I would take her to the Bay to watch the sunset, and then I would take her to this place in Mabini where they served the best dimsum in Manila. Then I would make the "To siomai love for you" joke, even if it's corny, just for the cheap smile I would get out of her when I made that joke, and really, how could I ever resist seeing that smile on her face again? And remember that extraordinary something about her that I couldn't figure out? I would have spent my whole life trying to figure it out.
But then as the dawn breaks, these thoughts fade, to be replaced by cruel memories of lame jokes and awkward moments. And the thoughts are soon gone, just like the sleepless night, never to be written or thought about again.
That is, until the next time my muse visits, and she doesn't let me sleep again.
After finishing Fever Pitch
earlier this week, I found myself glued to the Real Madrid-Real Sociedad earlier this morning while waiting for NBA Playoff games to start. It was an exciting match, and I hadn't found football this compelling before. Real Madrid, of course, is the most successful footbal club in the world, starring superstars such as David Beckham, Zidane, and Ronaldo, while Real Sociedad was just another team in La Liga.
Sociedad was in control for most of the match, but they just couldn't pull everything together for a score. Talent won out in the end, as Ronaldo broke away for a score at the 83-minute mark and that was that.
Speaking of football, Phoenix's Paul Shirley is back with a playoff blog
, and in his latest entry he talked about Steve Nash's football background, a part of the reason why the Suns, with Nash on the helm, are so darn fun to watch:
We developed the theory that Steve’s game is like it is because of his soccer background. To watch a Suns game is to watch a free-flowing exercise in extemporaneous basketball. There is a rough guide to be followed, but generally the decisions are left to the participants. The same could be said about the game of soccer. When observed from above, a soccer match seems amorphous and ever-changing. The game flows in S-curves and smooth shapes, as opposed to bad basketball, which is all Z’s and sharp turns. I think Steve brings this soccer mentality to the court. He never stops moving during the game and seems to flow up and down the floor throughout.
Now that I'm done with Fever Pitch, I'm hoping that I'd be able to keep up with my reading. Next up for me is The Sheltering Sky by Paul Bowles, a book I bought a few months ago from an online friend. I bought it because I'm a Sting fanboy, and the book was the inspiration for the song "Tea in the Sahara" (which John Mayer covered quite nicely). I hope that by writing about it here, I'd put enough pressure on myself to finish the book.