I dropped by UP today to wrap up some stuff for my enrolment. It didn’t take more than a minute for nostalgia to take over once I stepped into Eng’g.
In the world of heavy textbooks, calculus and algorithms, life was far simpler. I miss the nonchalance of walking — no, prancing — around UP, with your head up in the clouds, thinking about trivial musings, as well as how one day you are someday to change the world.
life /lIf/ (n): the condition of living or the state of being alive; the quality that distinguishes a vital and functional being from a dead body
If your life consists of just getting through the day’s and hoping that tomorrow will bring less drudgery, would that qualify as life?
If your life sans eclat would boil down to simply counting down the hours until you go pffft, would that count at all?
Again, don’t mind me, I’m just rambling. It’s just ironically, now that I can call the shots to where I want to be headed, I haven’t the faintest idea on where to go, let alone what to do. How my life has simmered down to this state of limbo, I could not fathom. It’s silly, really — I don’t know if it’s just hormones or some long-suspected clinical condition, but sometimes I feel so lost and alone, that I could just spontaneously burst into tears. Now, that could be awkward if I bawl in the middle of typing. Sheesh.
Maybe it’s just because recently, nothing has recently made me happy, as in with the true sense of bliss. Nothing bad really happened, but nothing that good, either. They say life is supposed to be this big adventure, this roller coaster. Then you discover that it’s really more of a Rialto — scream all you want, but it’s just as real as you would want it to be.
Oh well, enough whining.
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Today is the tomorrow you worried about yesterday. I’ll keep that in mind.
I have belief in my generation. We are to be the success story which our nation awaits. We have all the capacity to be — the right mix of idealism, cynicism, brilliance, and heart. Throw in today’s myriad of opportunities.
Bear in mind, we also can be the nation’s ultimate tragedy and disappointment. Let’s make sure it won’t be so.
as with everything you wished to be hidden, it eventually finds its way to youtube. what the hell, since the cat’s out of the bag, might as well put it into good use. if you’re stressed, depressed, or looking for something to laugh at, check our swat’s despedida gift to vic:
http://video.google.com/googleplayer.swf?docId=5131956890692172225&hl=en
i still think that everyone needs to free that boyband inside once in a while, at least for sanity’s sake. to scout for ideas, i actually hunted down blast-from-the-past boyband mtvs. fun. i’ve actually forgotten how 5ive looked like. haha.
Dang holidays. They make it all the more difficult to go back to work.
After 1 1/2 hours of dawdling, I finally got the hint that I wasn’t about to conjure up anything productive, except if you call staring at my screen & pressing the Outlook Send/Receive button a dozen times meaningful. So I gathered up all my SQL handouts and headed off to the nearest coffee shop for some quiet review time.
Can’t wait to enroll next sem.
sometimes, the best plan is to not have a plan at all.
i woke up a little bit earlier for a non-work day, since i had to meet tidoy and ke for some wedding-cake-tasting. yes, it’s every bit as delightful as it sounds. this was my first cake-tasting event, and i tried not to appear too giddy as we helped ourselves to the baker’s creations. the baker was a certified chocoholic, so aside from the lemon butter, apple walnut, and other cakes, she also gave us fudge filling, dark chocolate cake and white chocolate bars. my sweet tooth shall not be denied, braced as it may be.
i also got to confirm my level of maturity when we flipped through some wedding cake magazines for ideas. as tidoy and ke were gushing over these classic, elegant cakes, i went gaga over a blue & yellow beach-themed cake, complete with gumpaste shells & starfish and the cartoonish bride and groom with oversized heads. haha, fun. 🙂
as if we hadn’t had enough, the three of us decided to go on a food trip for lunch. after several quips (tagaytay? indian resto? mediterranean?), we decided to invade Old Manila. Our quest to find Hizon’s failed, and we nearly settled for Robinson’s Ermita in desperation. Good thing another option was still open — Intramuros. We set off for the cobbled roads and dropped by Barbara’s, a fancy date-place resto on the second floor on what used to be a gobernadorcillo’s house. In true Bugsy-bakya fashion, we whipped out a cam and went trigger-happy with our photo ops (never mind that any second an ‘orb’ may just appear in the shot. nyay!). good thing we found this resto — the ambiance was perfect, the food was great and the staff were really nice — triple threat!
after our brief romance with Barbara’s pasta, we went exploring and looked around the nearby museum. for the complete turista experience, we entered the Manila Cathedral and were dumbfounded with awe. i mean, i’ve seen stained-glass windows before, but these were something else. not to mention that the Cathedral never fails to dwarf anyone. astig.
it was still too early to call it a day, so tidoy suggested that we check out Cartimar street, which was a strip of ‘Divisoria’ for pet-lovers. ke & i already got attached to a yorkshire terrier, although deep inside i know that that dog (or any dog, for that matter) is better off without me, unless you want to watch how trauma manifests in dogs.
after cooing with birds, dogs, cats, fishes and worms (yes, even worms), the three of us punctuated the trip with a cool halo-halo at Razon’s (haha, umabot pang Buendia.) we also drove by ziggurat and a persian restaurant near jupiter, places that are already in our food-trip hitlist. can’t wait.
yep, today, the kaladkarins conquer Manila. just goes to show how much there is more to discover in the grounds you take for granted, and how you don’t really need to travel far to have fun. in the end, it dawns on you that it wasn’t so much the place as much as the company.
this was probably one of the best Labor Days i’ve ever had in my lifetime. yey. hope you guys had a fun non-work Labor day too. 🙂
[ Sat, April 28 ]
had my braces adjusted for the 1st time today. eeep.
since I was in the area, i dropped by the sunken garden in UP today for some long-overdue mot-mot (a.k.a. ’emote-emote’) time. time to embrace the loner in me. curling up my mp3 player and a tub of ice cream, i soaked in the chaos and serenity that was UP. soccer to the left, kites to the right, frisbees all over the place — it was THE soothing alternative to tv. i should do this more often.
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[ Sun, April 29 ]
got to (finally) watch Mines’ recital (dapat lang, gra-graduate na si mines!). mines, di ko alam kung bakit pa ako nagugulat, pero you were phenomenal! you’re one of the rare gems that deserve all the gifts God has given you. 🙂
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it’s the commuter’s curse: the (sometimes unwanted) gift of time to zone out and reflect.
what’s worse, poring over a question that you know will never get resolved, or not even having the capacity to ponder at all?
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i don’t know how i magically converted to a certified homebody. some days, it’s really an effort to drag myself out of the house in hope of creating some semblance of a life. dang.
1.) Getting to leave your laptop behind, and shutting your phone for 4 days. Enough said.
2.) The beach, of course. It was like one giant pool, all for the taking. Bahala nang ma-nognog.
3.) Jetskis. Talk about ‘road’ rage! It was one hell of a driving lesson… can’t wait til the next time!
4.) Parasailing. Flight’s a beautiful thing. Far from the adrenaline rush I thought it would be, it was relaxing, sedating even. The world’s literally at your feet.
5.) Escapism heaven. As I write this, I’m lying on a lounge by the beach, sipping my watermelon cooler, with Jack Johnson in my ear. Need I ask for more?
6.) The parties. Whether it’s trance, reggae or simply chill out tunes, Boracay would not be without its shindigs.
7.) Shopping havens. It was just like Greenbelt, only sand was at your feet and everyone’s in bikinis.
8.) And speaking of swimwear, the bods. No matter what they say, Boracay is indeed full of beautiful people. It’s 300 all over again.
9.) The Boracay stories. These are the souvenirs you can’t buy, from the Swirly Bits, the Sand Slumber & the All-Night Laugh-o-Rama. Of course, dear friends, what happens in Boracay, stays in Boracay.
10.) Getting to have it all with your friends. Of course, you can have your fill of the beach, water sports, & parties, but cliche as it might seem, all is meaningless without people to enjoy it with. Thanks to our marvelous PMs, She & Nic for pulling off this long-needed getaway. Although I can’t thank you enough, thanks everyone for making this memorable, for making me forget every worry, for just being there. Sa uulitin. 🙂
whenever i could, i usually hitch a ride home from my cousin. our carpool conversations would usually start with his rants about work, then with my rants about work (or raves — yes, i do have raves, so sue me). Then a few other random thoughts and debates follow, which usually die down with us singing along with whatever track is playing.
the topic of genres came up, and then my cousin asked me where the word came from. why is it pronounced ‘dyan-ra’? is it French? i just replied that it’s probably the same explanation for fillet.
i remember a time way back when i was so fixated on learning how kiddos learned to speak. how the hell does a squeaking person learn to enunciate, let alone comprehend what a series of sound means? who invented words? when our ancestors learned to tap their brains, how did they know that a ‘rock’ is a ‘rock’ and not, well, a ‘genre’? (oh well, rock is a genre, but i digress.)
i remember being so fascinated that i tried to observe my niece as an infant. then i blinked (for some months) and missed the moment. oh well.
now, these things, i could do for work. why didn’t i think of being an etymologist as a child? (grr, you job charts, you. is it so hard to squeeze in ‘etymologist’ between ‘doctor’ and ‘farmer’?) i mean, i used to devour words. i remember looking up strange words in the dictionary and writing them down in alphabetically-indexed cue cards to expand my vocabulary (God, should I stop now before I doom myself to the further depths of nerd-dom? i should be right about the 4th bolgia now.) it’s a thrill just knowing the wealth of insight, culture and insinuations behind the words we just take for granted daily.
programming, i could do as a sideline. haha. oh well, who ever said that a person is destined for only one career?
Call me a sellout. The former cheapster now feels at home at coffee shops. Maybe I should decorate my room to look like one (jotting down To-Do #000839×31).
It’s not to drink coffee though; I’m in the mid of trying to be a tea-drinker. Just a shift of mindset, I guess. It all started with that first sip of Coffee Bean’s Chai Tea Latte (behold power, for those yet to be bewitched), but I’m trying to take it in without sugar & milk. A slow, but progressing, process.
Maybe it’s just something with getting older that you start to appreciate what’s bitter. Fresh milk over Nido. Dark Chocolate over Baby Ruth. Heartbreak over illusions. You get the drift.
Amidst half-sleepiness (or half-awakedness, if you’re an optimist), one question dawned upon me earlier, one which I feel is long due: what’s so wrong with being ordinary?
As a child, my parents never bugged me to get high grades. Yet I did choose to drown myself in deadlines, contests, responsibilities and even more responsibilities. I have no idea how I turned out to be a total square.
Yet now, all I want is to, well, the word that comes to mind is float. No more dreams of grandeur, or wide recognition. Just being. Just chilling.
Sometimes it alarms me that I don’t have any plans at all. Haven’t really thought of career advancements or the like. Don’t really care if I get moved up any time soon. Nada. Totally unlike the grade-schoolish me.
I guess the pressure wore off once I stopped the lame attempts to impress people (call it a knee-jerk bunso thing). Once I discovered that I am indeed innately selfish, that only I could define happiness for me, all hangups wore off. And I am glad for that — although I wasted all the cranial capacity God has given me, the realization did wonders for my mental health.
I admit, this new outlook can be a little scary (what if regret finding myself amounting to nothing at all? what if i just become another echo?). The good thing is, once I realize that all the questions begin with ‘what if’, they get auto-dismissed by this new outlook too. Convenient.
I remember reading somewhere that the world doesn’t really need more successful people. What it really needs are happy people to be a happy place. I guess I’m still doing my part after all.
how could you turn something like this (look above left) into this (look above right)?!? *sigh* don’t worry, rodrigo, we still love you. haha.
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nahihirapan ka bang mag-ipon kamo?
try this crazy gizmo – it’s an alarm clock that won’t stop beeping unless you put a few coins in. mwehehe. balang araw magkakaron ka na rin ng limpak-limpak na piso.
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ever visited by a ghost of the past?
an officemate who had a sister who was a paulinian found the ad astra booklet we published for pauliworld a while back. yes, the ancient gs/hs campus paper days. yikes. at kamusta naman, the first page he flipped to had my poem. YUKK. paki-tapon. alalahanin immature at angsty pa ko nun. mwehehe. i could just imagine it with all its rhyming lines na pilit. yuck talaga. haha.
well, once college stepped in, the writing stopped to flow for some reason. whether it was the lack of academic requirements, change of environment, or maybe even bitterness over a certain poet (haha), i’ll never get to figure it out. i didn’t even join the college paper. the only time i really wrote was for a creative writing course, and my poems got the lowest scores among everything i’ve written for that class. haha. but at least i got the muse going again, even for just a brief nano-moment. if you want to know how truly sappy i am (or if you’re looking for several minutes of masakit-sa-tiyan tawa), check out the said CW poems below:
Unpretend
Solace
alone can hear
whimpers of the true self
Unmask the sheep in wolf’s clothing
Release.
MRT Cabin
One hand grips
a flimsy loop.
Other’s on womb.
Chivalry’s
long dead.
Thee Who Polishes My Shoes
Wise child of the road
Look at you, too strong to cry
You’re worth more than I
.: ishcapades 