maligayang batî ulit

i haven't been able to update since my computer's fucked up again. it's back to dying after two seconds. i'll get it repaired tomorrow. i had to work up some money first, since it could either be just the power supply or the motherboard that's acting up. if it's the motherboard, repairs could become rather costly.

i. friday

first things first, vince celebrated his birthday last friday at gerry's grill, in makati. that was very fulfilling indeed, or as i like to spell it, 'full feeling'.

maraming salamat, kahit hindi ka nagpagambas.

ii. saturday

i woke up late, at around two in the afternoon. it must've been the sleep debt i incurred from coding into the night the previous two. my mother said that she had to check up on me every hour, in case i'd died. i really should thank her for that comforting thought.

bau had invited me to accompany him on guitar since he was singing at a friend's debut. between the free ride, free food, and free jam, i had nothing to lose [so i thought] so off i went. but first, i had to print out and photocopy tabs of the songs we'd be performing, so thus i began my grand tour of glorietta. some time later, when i'd finally found a backwater stall offering printing, my dialogue with the shopkeeper went something like this:

self: magkano po?
assistant: fifteen.
self: *gives 20 pesos*
assistant: hindi po. fifteen each.

omfg. then of course i had to photocopy the damn things, at two pesos each. glorietta really is the worst mall on earth. no decent printing, no decent photocopying, and no pirated cds. damn. it's places like that that really show you how fast our country's sinking.

anyway, our performance went well. it was in no way a gig, but i did manage to render when you say nothing at all without a hitch. redemption for cara's debut, at least. as for bau, let's just say he's suddenly become unpopular with the debutante's protective father. i'll leave the laglagan at that for now.

i, on the other hand, lost 400 pesos, which fell out of my pocket since i don't have a wallet.

*cough cough trish cough duct tape cough*

btw, to the guitarist of the hired band: 'tang ina ka, kung sasawsaw ka, siguraduhin mo munang tama ang solo mo, gago.

happy birthday, bau.

iii. sunday

in the taxi on my way to work, i noticed that the dashboard was studded with military insignia. the driver, it turns out, was an officer in the army; hope '92, if that means anything to anyone. he was talking on his cellphone to his girlfriend [i assume], explaining that he was plying his taxi that day so he could buy additional pre-paid credits. i remember that he was scolding her at one point about her running off to the mall with her friends:

"ay, hijo de puta, bad timing ka dire!"

or something like that. there's just something about spanish [chavacano?] that makes curses sound better.

i finished off my charge's project. based on the hours i spent working [or pretending to work] on it, i earned 3k pesos. not bad at all. but apart from the funding, the job pays for itself in terms of the fun facts i learn while on the job. take for example the dubious hero-status of martin luther king, jr.

also, my godfather*, fr. dave clay, had his book launching at the madrigal center. it's the life story of masay, a local marian visionary. i just thought i should plug it just in case anyone's interested in dat sorta ting.

iv. monday morning

traffic was heavy, mostly because of construction work on the highway. ironic [or annoying, rather] to see so many signs proclaiming "caution: men at work" when there were more rats on-site than workers. this is a big factor in the downward spiral of our economy, actually. construction drags on, costing the government much money. in the case of roads or bridges, they then recuperate their losses by imposing heavier toll fees. now, if only project bidders had to include an expected completion time and agree to a fine if they exceeded that deadline, they'd save us all from a big headache.

this reminds me about three examples my dad constantly rants about, on how the indian government is better than ours. actually i agree with him on all counts:

first, individuals in government aren't given a pork barrel. the money goes to departments and requires a heirarchy of signatures before it can be dispersed. this ensures that the amounts of money and their destinations are logical, else someone along the chain is bound to notice any discrepancy.

second, projects are always in the name of "the government of india" or "the people of india" since that's where the money is coming from. note the difference here, where projects are always done by a particular person, regardless of the fact that he or she actually spent no personal money on it. this practice encourages false utang na loob towards that person, as if without him or her, no future projects would become a reality.

and third, the salaries of those in government are middle-income. this ensures that only those with the sole motive of serving the people vie for the position. here, politics is just an alternate stage for the glitterati to act out new roles. pathetic? more like disgusting.

around election time, my dad also 'casually' mentioned that the national elections in india were completed after three days, as compared to the two weeks it took here. of course this was the church's faux pas but hey, everyone already knows that.

while we were talking, a beggar was persistently knocking on the bmw in front of us so my dad kept a few coins handy, in case the beggar decided to bother us afterwards. instead, he just gave up on the bmw and sat down on the side of the road. at this point my dad said:

"this is the real meaning of opportunity. it's not just one door, but a hallway of doors. if the door you're knocking on doesn't open, knock on another door. if you stop knocking, you lose the chance to open any of the doors."

wow. and all this time, i've been calling him ulianin behind his back. maybe he really should publish his diary, something he's always wanted. he's well-travelled, if not anything else; that should be fun to read.

v. monday afternoon

the comorga test was very forgiving. not directly easy, but a lot of questions gave hints towards answering others. plus, at 150 points over 100, it'll be that much more difficult to flunk. not that i'm sure to pass just yet. it all depends on my third quiz, the results of which haven't been returned yet.

'starbsing' with malate after the test, pb introduced me to three good poems: sharon olds' the glass, james dickey's the sheep child, and c.k. williams' alzheimer's: the wife. since i couldn't find a good link to the third poem, i might as well just copy-paste it here:

she answers the bothersome telephone, takes the message,
forgets the message, forgets who called.
one of their daughters, her husband guesses;
the one with the dogs, the babies, the boy jed?
yes, perhaps, but how tell which, how tell anything
when all the nametags have been lost or switched,
when all the lonely flowers of sense and memory
bloom and die now in adjacent bites of time?
sometimes her own face will suddenly appear
with terrifying inappropriateness before her in a mirror.
she knows that if she's patient its gaze will break,
demurely, like a well-taught child's,
it will turn from her as though it were embarrassed
by the secrets of this awful hide-and-seek.
if she forgets, though, and glances back again,
it will still be in there, furtively watching, crying.

so there. that was a mouthful, but not having a working computer at home really cuts away 90% of my blogtime, and 100% of my gametime.

so sad.

sige ingat.ü

---

godfather: i find it amusing that one of my godfathers is a priest [the aforementioned fr. dave clay], and another is a pastor [rev. jaime uy]. according to my relstwo prof, nowadays godparents have to be roman catholic. see, this is why nobody likes the catholic church. too restrictive and yet at the same time, too meddlesome. 
posted by stani at 10:10 AM