Eat, Drink And Be Merry

One thing I've come to realize is that I'm useless at buying stuff for other people. I may have mentioned this before elsewhere; something about listening to other people's needs. Eh.

The other day I went to Greenhills to shop for other people and almost ended up with things exclusively for myself.

Getting self-gifts is easy. Yes I know it's too late for a wish list but there's little chance of me getting any of these this year anyway:

• A Mac. But I have a good reason for getting on the bandwagon. Because it's pretty.
  
• Clae McQueens! In pavement.

• Guitar effects and new cables. Haven't decided which effects in particular, but definitely something crunchier.
• Broadband internet access at the Condeaux.
  
• An abundance of free time and motivation to do something more than just sit at home watching MAXX.

There are a ton more but I've mentioned them here at one time or another. I actually checked off some items from previous wish lists when I was in the US earlier this year. There's one wish item that might materialize tomorrow: Celtics extend their winning streak to 20 at the expense of the, uh, aspiring-70-win-club Lakers.

Earlier...

The team went to a theme park for the third year in a row; this year we went back to Enchanted Kingdom for our Christmas party. I don't have pictures because I knew our resident "photogs" would adequately document the event.

Somehow even with a carousel pass I still ended up on two scary rides (the frantic ride home and the MRT). The highlight would have to be eating at Kanin Club for obvious reasons. Hello Christmas weight.

Earlier...

Oh, I have to talk about the "gig" during the *other* Christmas Party. I don't mean to sound like a prima donna but please if I knew that we'd be playing the Wherever You Will Go and something from Stonefree I wouldn't have suggested the idea of playing at all. Thank God for the Lisa Loeb number (I Do).

And OMG there have got to be a billion names better than what we called ourselves. If I had a band I'd call it The Infinite Monkey Theory.

Earlier...

Actually had a couple of nice night outs this month (the NSI thing, Wiiing at the client office.Sidebar and the impomptu Gesu concert). And for some reason they disappeared just as the holiday shutdown started. What's going on here?

Later...

If anyone came here looking for some deep Christmas insight, they're looking in the wrong place. In any case, have yourselves a merry little Christmas everybody, whichever version you prefer.

Look At This Tangle Of Thorns

It's a Saturday and I'm stuck home again. I seriously cannot recall the last time I was out. Visiting hospitals and the corner McDonalds do not count.

Now there's nothing inherently wrong with being at home but it does feel like the world has moved on without you.

...Boy, Christmas depression came early this year.

So let's just recap what's happened since the last post and maybe I'll snap out of it.

• The long-awaited new Guns N' Roses album Chinese Democracy came out last week. Ex-drummer Matt Sorum is caught on TMZ saying that it's "a toe tapper". I'm surprised at this. One, that people can point out Matt Sorum in a crowd, and two, Matt Sorum has a personality.
• Finally finished reading Nabokov's Lolita after two failed starts. I read the last page about a week ago, and I still feel dirty.
• After years of Gibson fandom I've gone out and bought myself a Japanese Fender Stratocaster that's at least 20 years old. To which my cousin remarked: "Ewww John Mayer".
• The condo (dubbed The Condeaux for an added touch of class) is slowly making the transition from "tiny" to "cozy". Now if I could only start actually living there...
• A few folks from work are/were in the hospital (for different reasons). I think sicknesses are getting more complicated. And we've no Dr. House to help us out. Maybe we do in terms of temperament, but not in terms of expertise. I kid doctors.
  

Later...

Sometimes I think that at the start you're given a bunch of credits on which to build the rest of your life with, and I've unwittingly withdrawn and wasted them all and that's how I ended up where I am. I remember a friend telling me that He doesn't work that way and there are days when I desperately want to believe her.

Lonely Planet

Well, it is.

Boracay IV was even more subdued than the previous trips. Did nothing but sleep, eat and stare. At the ocean. But given how work has been lately, doing nothing feels entirely justified.

This is of course step four of the cliche Boracay trip: blogging about it, I do get minus points for not using a DSLR. But cliche as it is there really is nothing like that sunset. Even sunrise people agree. I could've done without the ensuing existential crisis, though.

This is of course the yearly thing with my mom where she takes me or my brother as her plus-one when she goes on this money-market seminar with a few hundred brokers and traders and other people I have little in common with. I don't remember when I started going on this trip; but the little girl I once convinced to henna tattoo her arm much to the disappointment of her banker mother is graduating college next summer. God that's depressing.

There was this part at dinner where all the older bank officers were raving about the Beatles bossa-nova remakes that was being played over the speakers. I didn't know Bora had a two-year time zone difference.

Spending the weekend with a couple of hundred bankers isn't as boring as it sounds. You can tell that everyone has a bit more swagger than the usual yuppie, playing with money and all. You can tell by their choice of swimwear.But being at this beach is like being a kid at the candy store. With the candy under lock and key. And the storekeeper is watching. And you're with your mom.

Cover My Descent

October is over already? And not a single post. Which means yes, I'm monumentally busy again. And that's no longer news, is it?

My cousin suffered an aneurysm some three weeks ago, and a week later the family buried next to our lolo. He was just five years older than me, which means growing up I found it hard to relate to his high school/college/working world at the time. But I will remember a couple of things. One, that I would do some of his high school art projects for him and they would get recognition at his school (Claret?) whereas projects I would do for my own classes would get nothing. And two, my mom eventually sold our car (the one I was driving after college) to him; a '92 Corona, which is the car I wanted to drive when I first learned how to, and the car I crashed into the back of a cab after the 2002 UAAP championship. I'd learn later on that he was caught for speeding on the NLEX, so if anyone from college or Magnus Philippines Inc was witness to that, that wasn't me. He is survived by his wife and three kids, and some award-winning artwork.

Later...

October came and went, and that means the company Beer Bash just concluded last week. While it wasn't as crazy as 2006, it did have its moments...moments already lost in a drunken haze. Thank God for photogs and their Multiplies.

Thursday, went to an Analog gig with a couple of other bands at Route 196. The guitarist from Blue Teeth makes me want to quit playing guitar altogether.

Friday, spent Halloween mostly at work (predictably) and then had a quick bite at Grams before signing off. Signs of slowing down? The horror!

Later...

I've been feeling so inept lately, which is never a good thing in general, but is a horrible thing coming into another big project. Need to snap out of this. Retail therapy so far hasn't worked as well as expected, and my bookshelf is quickly running out of space. I have some other ideas, but they all involve complex sugars.

Between The Earth And Sky

So the UAAP Men's Basketball Finals just wrapped up, and really this post would've made more sense a week ago. But Ateneo just won the championship round for the first time since 2002, so the post-series buzz runs a little longer than usual.

Here's the all-time most memorable moments of UAAP Basketball for me, and they're not always about the games:

That regular season game against DLSU in the 90's when everyone, including players whose last name wasn't Sison, dropped like three dozen threes and we won by, like fifty (citation needed). I remember people starting to get bored by halftime.

A regular-season game played in the Blue Eagle Gym against UP that exemplifies what Ateneo basketball was all about in the 90's. With the Eagles down by two with a chance to tie in the dying seconds, Pinzon breaks any sort of press the Maroons throw at him, but then takes the ball himself into the paint amidst the trees and throws up a wild shot that hits nothing but the backboard. Game over.

Losing Game 3 of the Finals to DLSU in 2001. Saw the game at Strumm's Makati, organized by one of the bosses at the office. After the final buzzer sounded, my boss Carlo, an Atenean who was ironically in Taft at that time taking his MBA, and I alternately texted the Song For Mary line for line until we finished it.

Post-game analysis with Cybil in Starbucks Katipunan after losing Game 2 of the Finals to DLSU which took the series to a deciding Game 3. Saw the game at the Moro Lorenzo gym. At least I though it was post-game analysis. Who remembers anymore?

Winning Game 3 and the series against DLSU that year. Of course I remember seeing the game in Moro; the long three in the dying minutes that put the game out of reach. The campus suddenly flocking with people who were coming from the game and all over. Spontaneous blue-eagle-spelling from total strangers at Grilla in Libis after. And then of course the accident in Timog that evening/the following morning that sobered me up. I thanked God for two things that day.

Which brings us to this past week where history repeats itself, somewhat. The series didn't take three games, and I didn't get to see the game at all because I was out interviewing the next generation of portal developers, but still got updated with the highlights (Thanks Cricket, and you're welcome Pat). But it wasn't just the game that repeats history: the day after the game I got into a freaking accident again! With not one but two cars! Not my fault this time, though. Hopefully this isn't the start of another tradition.

Cincy (Epilogue)

Alternate title: The Rest Is Still Unwritten. But then that exposes me as a The Hills viewer to too many people, and we can't have that.

As expected, when I get home I'm suddenly too busy to write and it takes me two weeks before I come up with an epilogue. It could also be that I've been looking for something to look back on; some moral of the story. But obviously there is none. Besides, dwelling on the past is so last month.

It's been raining almost non-stop since I've been back, and I like it. In fact, I like everything about being back. The people, the food, the drinks!

Ok, almost everything: Saw this god-awful band Friday night...

Words That Would Mend The Things That Were Broken

Last post from Cincinnati.

The closing credits to Cincy will roll to the songs of Maroon 5 and Counting Crows. Since Collective Soul, Blues Traveler, Live and DMB concerts serve as the soundtrack of the middle parts, it only follows that the credits will belong to last night's double act, which will also be this trip's final gimmick since I fly out tomorrow (yay). The songs will be, quite predicatbly, Won't Go Home Without You and Angels Of The Silences.

Actually, Counting Crows didn't perform Angels (boo) but let's pretend that they did. Videos to follow. The coolest moments of the night were: singing Chris Isaak's Wicked Game as the intro to She WIll Be Loved, and the spiel in the middle of A Long December.

The teaser for Cincy will be the image below. Note that I don't have Photoshop on this laptop owing to something called SoBC, so I had to use Paint.NET.


The trailer for Cincy will be 15 seconds long because, well, I'm not clever enough to fill 30 whole seconds. Also in the name of SoBC I'll need to indicate generic character names Client A, Client B, Client Manager, Waiter, etc.

---

Client B (after realizing that some of their back end systems aren't compatible with each other): It's amazing we get products into people's homes at all.

---

(Waiter returns to check up on customers after long discussion of how spicy the hot sauce should be)
Waiter: Did you find the spicy-ness of your food OK?
Client Manager: On a scale of 1 to 10, it's a 4.
(JonRay rolls his eyes)

---

Client A (looking at one complex new requirement): This looks interesting.
JonRay: Yeah that hasn't really worked out for me.

---

JonRay (to Jenny, from back seat): Remember, this is the stretch where we saw the cops hiding in the grass before, so be careful. Just saying, before I go to sleep.
(Later, JonRay wakes up to find the car parked with the windows down)
Officer (to Jenny): License and regstration please.

---

(Walking to the apartments after work)
JonRay: We're about to come to our first-ever pretentious U.S. moment
Jenny: What's that?
(Stops in front of apartment building)
JonRay: This is me.

---

But of course this/real life isn't a movie. It's not even a bad indie movie. For one thing, in real life you don't get to say goodbye.

The Kind Of Thing You Only See In Scented, Glossy Magazines

Actually there's nothing much to see or do at the University of Cincinnati, except things that remind you why college life is so good. It's not as big as the only other school I've seen in the US, but that's not saying much because apparently Stanford holds the record for contiguous land mass for a school or university. Citation needed.

Today marks the last working day of this trip, as Monday is Labor Day and apparently that and the weekend before it is a big deal. We'll see. Anyway, I'm left to my own devices again for this rainy Friday afternoon/evening and I spend it procrastinating whether to see Tropic Thunder in Newport. I know I'm the type to find that type of movie funny but in the end I didn't, because I don't recall ever bing satisfied with a Ben Stiller movie the first time I see it. Usually it takes the movie being shown ad infinitum on HBO before the true gems of jokes set in ("What is this, a center for ants?"). Meet The Fockers doesn't count, that's special for another reason.

Things are starting to wind down on this trip. I know I hate on Cincy for the most part on this journal, but it's really not that bad. For a modern city, there's some old school city love kind of vibe that we don't get in cities at home, except maybe for the South.

Take tonight, for example. Because of my unwillingess to ask questions (a character flaw that we'll revisit some other time, I'm sure), I got on the wrong bus on the way home, and I ended up in another Kentucky town, Covington. (There are a number of cool-looking bars down there, apparently; it's a shame I find this out only tonight.)

Anyway, I had to wait for something like 20 minutes for the next bus that will take me back downtown. For most of the trip back I'm the lone passenger and I get to see Cincy from the other side. It's actually pretty on this dreary Friday; the San Fo Giants are in town and the Great American Ballpark is lit up like an upside-down chandelier. I especially enjoy the huge halogen lights of the ballpark for some reason, and fireworks go off when Encarnaction hits a grand slam in the third inning to put the Reds up 4-0. Further down, the buildings and the twin towers of the P&G headquarters stand out in the Cincy skyline. There are a lot of people in red walking around because of the game, and maybe a wee bit more people than usual owing to the long weekend.

When I get down at Fountain Square there's an amateur performers concert going on, and while they're not Nucleus Running they're not that bad. I hang around the square to see a number of badly-named acoustic duos ("Hi we're and ") and leave when depression starts to overtake the appreciation of everything about tonight. I go home and make myself soup and wash it down with Bud.

I realize there are a million ways to tell the story of 'nothing happened'. And sometimes it seems like I'm going to have to go through every one of them.

Sometimes You Turn Your Back To The Wind

Alternate title: Hoosier Daddy.

This weekend, Jenny and her possie went to a mountain resort in Tennessee called Smoky Mountain. Hopefully for them it's nothing like what comes to mind when you hear the words "Smoky Mountain". Unless of course, that first thing that comes to your mind is "Paraiso".

In any case I passed up on that. Left to my own devices, I booked a bus out of town and went to Indianapolis, Indiana, the last piece of this "tri-state" area that I haven't been to. Indiana to me means only two things: racing and Reggie Miller, and I'm lucky enough to have time to visit the homes for both.

(Technically, automobile racing's home is probably Monza, Italy and Miller's home is either UCLA or the torn-down Market Square Arena or one might argue, NYC's Madison Square Garden. But I needed a segue.)

The Indianapolis Motor Speedway is located on the outskirts of town, opened in 1909 and the first Indy 500 race was held there in 1911. Also called "The Brickyard" for once being totally paved with bricks, it was home to F1's US Grand Prix from 2000-2007. It's home race is the annual Indy 500, and there are a few other competitions that are held there including NASCAR and motorcycle racing. This week there weren't any, which is OK because I wouldn't have had the time to watch anyway, so I had to content myself with the Hall of Fame.

The Hall of Fame houses, among other things, past winners of the Indy 500 and other icons of autoracing history. The only names (and cars) that were familiar were Schumacher, Jacques Villeneuve, Mario Andretti and Juan Miguel Fangio. Oh, and Danica Patrick. You don't have to like cars or racing to appreciate the stuff in this museum. At the very least, it's you chance to see the evolution of the internal combustion engine before our generation starts phasing it out.

Next up is downtown's Conseco Fieldhouse, the home of your Indiana Pacers. Of course, the season was over as well, and no I wasn't on the mood for the WNBA's Indiana Fever. I'll just note that the gift shop featured throwback jerseys for probably the entire starting five of that classic Pacers team that went up against the Knicks year after year, and that all things Jermaine O'Neal (recently traded to Toronto) were already on clearance. JO never did get the chance to do any playoff damage, and is overrated overall, but I still bought from the sale since he was the only semi-reliable big man on my 2005(?) fantasy NBA team, the Roswell Rayguns.

Indiana itself was probably slightly bigger than Cincy, but I can't verify that since I was only there one afternoon. It actually reminds me of a European city that I can't place. Vienna, maybe? Now that can't be right.

On the way home I had a slight scare because my bus reservation said 7:50 PM and by 8:30 it was still nowhere in sight. Then I remembered I never did check what time zone Indy was in. Was it Central or Eastern? The Pacers play in the same conference as the Bulls, and they're in central. Eaux fuck! Turns out it really was just late, and Indiana is on EST.

Next: The University of Cincinnati.

The TV Should Apologize

I know I've been here too long because I've started to understand The Hills. Stayed in last Sunday with the remaining bottle of wine and I got to see MTV run a Hills marathon all evening; all this to hype up Monday's season four premiere "We'll Never Be Friends". Oooh drama. Because I don't get enough of that.

There are a few things that betray this and some other "reality" shows as reality. One, how can there be a camera shot of a reality-show "star" entering a room...from the inside? Can they read the person's mind? Second, in a show where everyone is being followed around with a camera crew, how can any meeting be "accidental"? OMG, Spencer's here? The sound guy with the boom mike and another guy lugging around heavy video equipment didn't tip you off?

And finally, no way Whitney is that pretty and charming and just happened to be applying for the same job as Lauren in the show's pilot. At this point I'm like, OMG I'm giving this, like, too much thought.

Earlier that weekend, I saw Vicky Cristina Barcelona, both as a change of pace/scenery and because I hear ScarJo plays another free spirit in this one. In any case, new dream: see Barcelona. (You know, after Japan.) In the film at least the city is one big canvas for Gaudi; it's beautiful. The movie itself was typical Woody Allen fare: little plot, almost chick-flick-y and character-driven. But they were good characters, which saves it. And did I mention Scarlet as a free spirit? Rebecca Hall isn't bad either.

So between that, Saturday's breakdown and Lauren Conrad's reality show life, it's been a very uh, unmanly weekend. I need to do something about this. I need to go to the Indianapolis Motor Speedway. Next.

Break Cork In Case Of Emergency

No that's not a line from a song, as far as I know.

My fellow traveler's boyfriend and his brother are in town for the next two weeks, which explains why my date(s) tonight are the following:

After what I've been through today trust me this is the best I can do.

I have this habit. When faced with something I can't deal with I automatically conjure up some episode from the past that was also something I couldn't deal with at the time, but at least now I just remember being paralyzed and not actually are paralyzed. Or put another way, at least that only hurts in my head and not in, uh, other parts. There isn't a name for that tactic/condition yet, as far as I can tell. Psych graduate-friends, be a dear and help name it after me.

Here we go again.

Classes were suspended that supposedly rainy Monday. Someone had the bright idea to spend the day at his house to "jam" (read: play pretend-rock-star). The venue was going to be your lover's best friend's house.

I use the term "lover" in the loosest sense. All three of us were too young to know what love was, and at least one of us still doesn't. But I digress. Lover's best friend's house. Hardly neutral territory.

You and him and some bit player in this story take his Beetle. I hitch with my friend in his Lite Ace. Why do I tag along? Because I'm an idiot. I remember the song playing in the car (of course): Today by the Smashing Pumpkins. The irony is not lost on me.

The time it takes to get to the house is around 20-30 minutes, and there are a bunch of ways to get there. When we do get there the Beetle is nowhere to be found, but the bit player is. She tells us your alibi: apparently, you realized you had to get home right away because your folks didn't know where you were after they learned that classes were suspended, and so you had him take you home. This couldn't have worked out better if you planned it, and a big part of me still thinks you did.

You can imagine how expressive the "jamming" session turned out. The rest of that ironically sunny day I just drowned myself in something slightly less classy than 2005 California Red.

These are the stories that make up who I am; these stories of disappointment, weakness and despair. What else stories would you have me tell?

Put in more cliche terms: what do you want me to say?

Understands The Weather Of The Winters On Its Way

Current activity: time travelling.

A couple of days ago for no reason I could not get Even Flow out of my head. I guess thoughts do arrive like butterflies.

This one is for the kids who wish they were in Seattle in 1991. If you check the related videos there's a really good version of Breath, too.


A couple of weekends ago (before the concert), I went to Newport alone to kill some time and clear my head and so I took the opportunity to eat up front at the bar inside Rockets. Summoning all my The Secret powers, I got my order taken by one of one of the twins. (Jessica or Elizabeth, I prefer Jessica just because.) Yes, that's where I spend my The Secret credits: waitresses. Anyway, I got something called a Route 66 burger, and Jessica kept asking how I found it and refilling my Diet Coke.

Johnny Rockets provides each booth with a mini-jukebox showcasing some really good classics. We've never had one actually work, though. Anyway while eating and staring and clearing my head, someone selects to play the Beach Boys' "California Girls". When you're in the presence of the trinity like that (pretty girl, good food, great music), you have to crack a smile.

Later...

Tin (another Tin) was in town last week and after seeing a forgettable Pineapple Express (sorry Seth) on Friday we went out to the mall the following day. Tin rounded up her friend May and we met up with Kim from Jenny's team. One of the first few stores we entered was Papyrus (yes, that Papyrus) and the girls spent an annoyingly long time inside a store that sold perfumed paper products. Suffocating from lack of testosterone I went out to look at other things, and then I saw that the adjacent stores were Abercrombie & Fitch and Banana Republic. Not what I had in mind.

The gimik quickly degenrated into: Tin and May at VS, Jenny and Kim at Sephora and me looking at Tokidoki toys. The only place all five of us agreed to visit was Apple.

Next stop: Walmart. Or at least that was the plan. On the way there we got separated from the rest of the convoy on the highway. That's when Jenny said, "Follow that Walmart truck!" And that's when we got lost completely. Twenty minutes later we called it off and decided to go grocery shopping at the nearer Kroger instead.

Later...

There, I bought a poster book that collected some of the most memorable X-men covers (including that Rogue/Magneto one that still rocks to this day), thinking it would be great as a gift. When I check the groceries out the cashier looks at the book, looks at me and asks "Is this for you?" I answer, "Let's pretend it's not."

I'm keeping it, by the way.

Now...

If time travelling were possible, any one of those days would be fine. But I'd probably prefer to go back either two years or go forward two weeks. Either way, I'd be home.

Beat Back The Pain We've Found

Alternate title: Is This Real Or Am I Dreaming.

As you can tell I'm still high from the concert on Tuesday at the Riverbend Music Center. Dave and the boys played for something like three hours to a packed house and lawn. We were lucky to get good, uh, grass, and could see the stage without straining our necks too much since the "lawn" was actually the side of a sloping hill. Not bad for 40 bucks. And we were lucky it stopped raining in the morning.

I really should brush up on my DMB discography; I only own one album (...Crowded Streets) and got lucky since they had like three songs from that one, including one of my all-time faves. The concert was mostly to promote the new album, so I didn't know a lot of the songs but it didn't matter. Singing along to the last lines of Crush was well worth it. No, I made sure I didn't catch that on video. Videos and pictures to come.

The Band would launch into fifteen minute instrumentals before ending their songs, with guitar player Tim Reynolds taking about half of that. Isn't he listed as an official band member by now?

The place as I said was packed. Behind us were a bunch of drunk kids (beer was sold), and in front of us there was this girl who'd scream at the top of her lungs...before the front act even started. If she was that enthusiastic shouldn't she have better seats?

There was an annoying group of people to the right of us who were playing out some sort of real-life television drama (One Tree Hillbilly?) and wasn't really listening except when the band was playing Ants Marching, which annoyed the hell out of me. From time to time one guy would "break character" and would wolf whistle at the band for no reason in particular. I seriously think he puts that in his resume under "special talents". Argh.

Jenny seemed to enjoy it as well, except for the part where the drunk kids started stepping on her brand new beach towel and my bag, and kept invading her personal space to take drunk pictures. Kids!

At the end of the evening, some people found out the hard way that sloping hills and alcohol do not mix. I didn't take pictures; as much as I enjoy people getting hurt I am not a fan of getting beat up.

I guess from that night it's all, er, downhill?

...

In annoying news, my project manager reminds me of all those teachers who, when asked a real question that was not from the textbook, would answer: "Good question. That's your homework." Ugh.

Drink In And Always Be Full

Last weekend was dubbed the Prius weekend. Renting a car here is like playing in a raffle: I never know what car we're going to get until we're actually there. And since we were saving on gas we booked a sub-compact which turned out to be a hybrid. I was thrilled; you know how I want to talk about being good to the environment.

It's actually pretty fun to drive around, mainly because of the power button instead of an ignition (I'm driving an Xbox!) and the computerized dash, which shows which power source is moving the car at any given time. It also shows how much gas you're drinking up per trip (45.8 mpg by the end of the weekend). We actually had to google how to start the car when I had lost "the touch". Apparently you need to step on the brakes when you start the car; otherwise it's just like turning on the ACC.

But that's not the main part of Prius weekend. I got to see 90's relics Collective Soul, Blues Traveler and Live, uh, live! We decided to go see them on Sunday evening at the last minute. I'm sorry Manila but that beats Lifehouse any day.

The show was done in Turfway Park, which is actually a horse race track in Florence, Kentucky. It was held on the grass with no seats so we camped out as close to the stage as we could. There weren't many people there which was a departure to the kind of crowd the same concert would draw in Cubao.

Blues Traveler actually steals the show for me, and I think I know why. I've seen high school kids do Selling The Drama pretty accurately; and as good as the guitar solo in Shine is I'm sure someone cracked it back home. Even December is easy to transcribe. But I've never seen anyone else do or even try Run-Around. John Popper is god.

I managed to get the last parts of the song on video and share when I can.

No, Collective Soul didn't do Perfect Day and while that was disappointing I guess it's just as well. That way I can't ever compare it to the Nucleus Running version. Hahaha. They also snuck in the Killers' lyrics "I've got soul but I'm not a soldier" during the muted parts of December. Note to pretentious cover bands. Ahem.

Live didn't disappoint and did all the hits, including my personal favorite All Over You. And in case you were wondering, Live ended their set with Lightning Crashes and not Selling The Drama.

I haven't even gotten around to talking about Hooters. Maybe some other day. Music geek in the house.

Next Tuesday: the Dave Matthews Band! My Cincy movie has gotten its own soundtrack

Dealing In The Limits

I forgot to mention that I bought Amish chicken (I don't know what that means, either) from the grocery, and some bread crumb + seasoning with it. On my first try I burnt it, and on the second I cooked it too raw. What did I get on my third try? You guessed it...a Filipino!

Yeah that joke had been incubating in my head for three weeks.

There are days when I think that New Order's Regret is the best. song. ever. Yesterday was one of those days.



Anyway.

I realize that I am and will always be a comic book geek. If there's one good thing about this city is that the library is reasonably stocked and is loaded with hidden gems. They've got a pretty decent catalog of popular fiction, non-fiction, magazines, newspapers, microfilm (blast from the past!) and reference books. So when presented with this buffet, what did I go for first? Comic books!

You'd think it would've sounded less juvenile if I said "graphic novels" but really, it doesn't. Go ahead try it.

So in the time I've been here, here's what I've read so far:

• Garage Band by Gippi (from Italy)
  
• Arkham Asylum (pre-Sandman Dave McKean!)
• Batman Year One (to prepare for the movie)
• Fallen Son: The Death of Captain America (Loeb is good)
• Blacksad by Juan Diaz Canales and Juanjo Guarnido (These guys are rrrrreally good)
• Skim by the Tamaki cousins
• Sin City
  

Among others. Of course I had to read every single X-Men comic they had. My question is: what the heck happened between X-Men #11 and now? Who are these people? At least one thing hasn't changed: Chris Claremont is still the master of the betrayal plot twist.

Onto another geek angle, also at the library I found a copy of the software Design Patterns book written by the Gang of Four, with a foreword from Grady Booch, the grandpappy of UML. I saw it at Barnes & Noble but it figured it was too expensive and too heavy to bring home, so I decided to regularly go to the library to finish it instead. Which brings me to conversation we had a week ago:

"...so I'll be going to the library to finish it. But it will take away time spent at the gym."
"The geek overpowers the jock, no?"
"It's the story of my life...no, wait. The reverse. The reverse is the story of my life."

I didn't care to elaborate.

Fast As Wheels Can Turn

The following day we took our spankin' new (rental) Jeep Compass to the one reason to drive at all in the States: the outlet malls! The one we went to this Saturday was 65 miles away and basically took an hour to get there from downtown. It sounds like a long ways, but it also takes an hour to get to Glorietta from QC, so no one was complaining.

No one was complaining about the car, either. But it would've been so cool if we were able to afford a convertible and re-enact, well, every cool movie scene that included a convertible, ever. But we'll take the Jeep, thanks. No movie scenes come to mind.

So if I'm driving the speed limit (55) and people, including old ladies, are still passing me, that means that everyone else is breaking the law, right? When I described this to the folks at work Seth told me to just flip them off or something. Ah see, that I can do.

The Jefferson outlet mall itself was nothing special, but since it was Independence Day weekend, most everything was on sale. Spent around a couple of hours there, mostly procrastinating.

Oh, and I finally got to eat KFC since I got here. Yes, downtown Cincy doesn't have a KFC. Or a McDonald's. Bizarre. And sad.

On the way back we dove into the Kenwood mall to "retro-shop" (Jenny's term), wherein you look at stuff you've already bought and see if you saved money buying it when you did. You've done it too, admit it. Kenwood was more a traditional mall with the Macy's and the Dillard's and three kinds of Foot Lockers (regular, Lady and Kids). Then we ate at Cheesecake Factory, which is the franchise where Kaley Cuoco's character Penny in Big Bang Theory works. Look it up.

The next day was grocery day at Jungle Jim's which is a huge grocery with international products. Products of interest were: San Miguel Beer, San Miguel Dark Beer (I assume this is Cerveza Negra), Mang Tomas, Ligo sardines and UFC. I ended up getting the sardines, just because. I also got into a long discussion with the cheese guy on brie ($8.99 bleu-infused vs $3.99 plain. Duh.).

I also got carded for buying vino. Again, just because. I mean, hey I already have the cheese.

Something On The Surface It Stings

The long weekend actually started on Thursday night, when our client manager decided to fully indoctrinate us in American culture by taking us to the firing range. When we got there he asked me to stand near the wall. Oh no, hasn't he forgiven me for screwing up my last project manager stint yet?

But my Rizal moment didn't come to pass of course, we were actually the ones doing the shooting. We took turns firing a .40-caliber Glock 23 to a target about less than 15 feet out. (At that distance a perp would've probably taken me out before I got a shot off. But anyway.) The target was your typical blue silhouette with a bull's eye. You actually had a choice of that, a picture of your typical convenience-store robber, or a terrorist. Really. We didn't take pictures, though; we were already getting weird looks from the other uh, enthusiasts.

Now I would've been impressed that our client manager has taken up shooting firearms except that: he didn't know how to load the magazine and then proceeded to insert the magazine backwards. And then tried to shoot it with the safety on.

I also learned that the bullets can and do get jammed inside the chamber. OMG so it is a valid plot device! I should apologize to Michael Bay for all those times...

So after that he took our paper target home because one shot came really close to the bulls' eye. I didn't tell him but I'm convinced it was my shot. But anyway. So now I have GSR on my jacket. I hope washing will get that out, otherwise it's another trip to Homeland Security.

Yes I used "perp" and "GSR" in a blog post. What are you going to do about it, punk?

There were no casualties other than my innocence.

The next day was the Fourth of July. And today is the Ninth of July. Why did people stop calling it Independence Day? Because it was easier to remember it for a history test? I wouldn't be surprised...

Watched Mr. Independence Day's (that's what he calls himself now) Hancock despite RottenTomatoes very persuasive 38% rating. Whatever, it was something to do. The Dark Knight can't come soon enough.

After that we saw the fireworks display over the Ohio River from Newport, which was great. There were plenty of people on the levee mainly because there's nowhere else to go in the city for the celebration. And it's not really even in the city, it's in the next city in the next state. Oh Cincy.

More on the long weekend, next.

Roll It Over In My Mind For The Hundred-Thousandth Time

Now Pixar is just showing off.

Saw Wall-e on opening weekend. I have a couple of suggestions on how to make that movie the greatest movie of all time, but I'll wait until people back home have seen it. It's good, just short of Incredibles-good, I think.

Saw Wanted the day after and maybe it was because we saw it after Wall-e, but I came out of the cinema slightly annoyed. But at least I know exactly what my $9.75 was for. Thanks Angelina.

Anyway, the post title is taken from the Juliana Hatfield Three song "This is the Sound" on Become What You Are. I swear that record rocked my already rocking 90's.

I mention this because I got the album off Amazon, which is a first for me. Good bye per diem.

It's also because I realize that I can't escape the fact that my Cincy movie is going to have an art/indie film ending and not a Disney (and Pixar?) one.

Finally had a drink or two or three here. Something tells me I'm in for more.

Random U.S. moment: Ate at Johnny Rockets again and gorged on onion rings, which is one good thing about staying in the US. This Rockets' branch (I now just call it Rockets coz I'm so local) also features blonde twins as a couple of waitresses and I've (secretly) nicknamed them Jessica and Elizabeth. Raise your hand if you think I'm eating there again.

Oh, if anyone wants to see what Cincinnati is like, you can check out the new 3 Doors Down video for "It's Not My Time". The statue prominently shown there is the one in Fountain Square, and near the end I think the band is playing on the walkways between the mall buildings. What? You say that it looks like any other city? OMG it is, you have no idea.

The Loneliest Spot In The World

...is the pitching mound in Yankee Stadium. That's according to the Costner movie For The Love Of The Game. Or it could be Sunday afternoon in Cincinnati, according to me. Yes, it's a baseball post. And yes, I misled you on purpose.

The day before this picture was taken I was actually also at the Great American Ballpark, watching the Reds play the same Boston Red Sox team that beat them this Sunday. I accidentally got in without paying by going through the Reds gift shop. I'm not talking about bleacher seats, too; these are like, Perfect Catch seats. (More baseball movie references.) Too bad I didn't have my camera then which is why I went back again the next day.

Of course I didn't know that I was actually getting in for free that Saturday so when I went back and tried to pull the same stunt I got caught. "You're gonna have to wait outside, son." Ah my short stint as an outlaw.

I'm also guilty...of now being able to cook pasta noodles! I didn't take pictures, so you'll have to take my word for it. And that it tasted effin' amazing.

Spaking of a Boston team beating the crap out of the competition and winning a series, the Celtics closed out the Lakers in probably the biggest letdown of a game I've seen in years. Impostors in purple and gold showed up, and there was a stretch where the Celts were getting any shot they wanted when they wanted. I especially like how Dime magazine describes the Boston defense as a box-and-one, except that the box is on Mamba. The Big Three get their rings and tear up their membership cards for the Karl Malone/Pat Ewing club, while John Starks and Nick Anderson thank Odom and Co for taking the top spot in forgettable Finals appearances. OK, maybe not.

Propinquity

Celtics are rallying from being down twenty-four in the third to just two at the start of the fourth.

These past two weeks, I learned:

• How to iron a dress shirt (from YouTube)
• What a dryer lint filter is, and how to clean it
• A new word
• Two scoops of ice cream is more than enough here
• That microwavable rice isn't half bad
• How to drop trash down a chute
  
• That 90% of the Filipinos in Cincinnati are in Benihana...working
• That I comprise 5% of the remaining

Walked to Newport, Kentucky over the weekend to re-enact my favorite Walk To Remember scene. Oh, and to get away from Ohio. Got to eat at Zari's highly recommended Dewey's and it did not disappoint. So much so that Jenny can't hide her fandom of a 17" half-and-half.

Finally got to see a decent bookstore here (B&N) and I promptly offered my the contents of my wallet.

Random US moment: I found a Journeys store and got myself a pair of the controversial K. Cobain chucks, well, because I can. I already wore them the following day, and while I was walking around town Sunday a black couple stops me in the mall and asks me to raise my pant leg. They examine my kicks (they're called kicks yo) and the lady asks me a couple of questions regarding where I bought my shoes and I answer the Journeys store down at Newport. She ends the conversation with, "That's fucking gangsta." I'm sorry, but that made my day.

Celtics overcome the largest halftime lead in the shot-clock era (18 points) and win 97-91. Note to McFarlane toys: Wanting to buy: Allen #20 with Larry O'Brien trophy icon on the jersey.

Beat L.A., Go Reds

Tonight, the Celtics are up four entering the fourth quarter of a see-saw Game 1.

I've been in Cincinnati for almost a week and a lot has gone down already:

I have a new dream: to go to Japan. At first I was disappointed with the Nagoya airport (because the plane didn't transform into a giant robot after we got off), but then I got through the rest of the place and there were Japanese girls everywhere! Everywhere! Who would've thought?

Twelve hours later, I was stopped at border control (again) and ended up spending close to an hour inside Homeland Security because apparently no one there knows what "software requirements engineering" is all about. So after thirty minutes of waiting and another fifteen explaining CMMi to immigration I was re-booked on the next flight to Cincy (since I missed the one I was supposed to get on because of all the waiting). This trip is exciting already.

Oh, I also thought I lost my luggage while waiting and actually almost left for Cincy without it as advised by the airport staff. Thank God I procrastinate like crazy.

Cincinnati itself is kind of a quiet place as warned by everyone who's been here. The weather here is more exciting than its night life. Yesterday I received my first tornado warning, and today the city is on a heat warning. Not that the heat warning means anything, though. There are hotter Philippines winters. Sissies.

I think the only thing they do here is watch Cincinnati Reds games. And drive with the windows down with the radio at full blast.

The apartment I got is huge. I think I actually squealed when I stepped through the door. OK, too much information, sorry. There's a Thirties vibe going through the building and it's actually pretty nice. There's also a "fitness center" on my floor. And that means as much to me as it does to you. Walgreens is around the corner, and four days out of five Jenny and I are there shopping for "emergency" dinners in case the tornado hits. Suuure.

Pictures in Multiply. I'll talk about work stuff if it gets interesting. In the meantime the weekend is near so maybe things will pick up.

Maybe it already has. Celtics win, 98-88.

Cincy (Prologue)

It's ironic that its when you have plenty to write about that you won't have time to write it down. The weeks since I've been back from my West Coast trip have been a blur; and the next thing I know I'm flying back out there again, this time on the opposite coast. I'm due at the airport in four hours (3 AM) and I haven't gotten any sleep yet because I need to write this down.

But let me get back to the past few weeks. It's a blur, but its been an exciting blur. And I don't think I've ever put that e word down in a blog entry, like, ever. What a brave new world this is, this world of consenting adults. I won't detail that here, I'm in too much trouble as it is. Hahaha.

Work has been steadyyyyerrrr than it's been for a while, so let me take this opportunity to be grateful. It really feels like we (the team) have turned a corner on work. (Hope I didn't jinx it just now.) I guess I realize/always knew that this isn't something that's won in a couple of rounds; it's a grind-it-out, Knicks-style, slugfest where it's sweeter when you come out on top. Round 4.0, Fight!

Speaking of 4.0, tomorrow I leave for Cincinnati to meet up with Jenny so we can work on the future of Customer Portal. So there are two things you can be sure of:

• The sun will come up tomorrow
• The irony of the trip is not lost on me
  

I also got the requisite pre-departure haircut and requisite parental speech on eating right while on travel.

Yesterday was also Grace's last day to work beside me, which no matter how far you see it coming is never easy to take. Her project and mine is officially signed off as of today, and she's off to a new adventure (as always) and I'm off to the next phase of CPGT. So today really feels like an epilogue and a prologue all at once. Us leaving at the same time is...weirdly fitting? But definitely sad. It's like turning to a new chapter, and getting a paper cut in the process.

What Doesn't Happen In Vegas Stays In Vegas

One post a month. That's what it's come to.

I've been back in town for a while, but I've finally gotten around to writing stuff down. Stuff I remember:

• Cosmopolitan San Francisco. At least that's what our geriatric sightseeing tour bus driver said.
• My first Cirque du Soleil show, Love, at the Mirage. And the after-party at Revolution Bar.
  
• The Strip, notably: Caesar's Palace/Forum Shops, The Venetian, The Mirage, The Bellagio, Paris, Fashion Show Mall, and the Hawaiian Tropic-themed bar. I know now why Britney got married in this town. One can't help but be stupid here, it's great.
  
• All the good food!
• The bedsheets at Treasure Island.
  
• James, our Pacquiao-rooting, closet Pinoy-loving Lincoln Town Car driver.
  
• Dropping my camera on the Walk of Fame. And forced to buying a new one at the Walk of Regret.
• The cement prints in front of the Kodak Theatre. Classic.
  
• Walking to Zuni (and discovering back home that a restaurant called Zuni just opened at Greenbelt 5)
  
• Having a Starbucks fix near Rodeo Drive. Because I needed to use the bathroom.
  
• Stanford U! Go Cardinals!
  
• Outlet stores in Sac-town
• Wine-tasting at Sonoma. If you thought I was pretentious before...
  
• Snow! And that two layers of clothing and a dress jacket is not enough. And that you can't step on it with Vans without sinking.
  

Pictures at the newly refurbished multiply site. So all-in-all a great two weeks. Better than the Utah stay, but then again that's not saying much.

After I got back it's not like I've been unpacking this whole time; a lot's gone on but that's a story for another, uh, month?

A Thousand Points Of Light

I just realized that February came and went without a single entry. Take that, shortest month of the year!

Just a quick update:

• Boyet and Chinx had a baby (apparently) and had her baptized earlier. Baby Nhaya is an Aquarian, I think. Good for her.
  
• Hung out with Arvil Friday night watching U2 live in Boston DVD at Gweilos. Because we can, dude. Because we can.
  
• Des celebrated five years of working for guys named Procter, Gamble, Hewlett and Packard.
• I'm trying to decide on a neutral-colored PSP Slim. But which?
• Finally used my multiply account. Still arranging the photos, coz there are a lot. I'm thinking of starting from HP-Baguio offsite 2006.
• Leighton Meester is more than enough reason to watch Gossip Girl. And after I made that important discovery she begins to pop up in the weirdest places: as Britney-clone Justine on Entourage and again as a murder suspect on CSI:Miami. She also showed up on Veronica Mars so there's a second reason to re-watch that show. The first reason was to overwrite the damage done to my brain and Kristen Bell's rep by Heroes Season 2.
  
• Rallies abound in the city but I could not care less. That's not just a figure of speech. I literally could not. Care. Less.
• Kathy gave me a copy of Erich Segal's Love Story, making her the second person to recommend that specifically to me. I have yet to find out why.
  
• TGI Fridays has a thing on their menu called Sizzling Chicken and Cheese. Someone up there likes me.

I'm off to San Fo (that's San Francisco) in a week for a two-week foray into the States. I will be hunting for a decent wristwatch and a copy of Evan Hecox' Urban Abstract, and maybe some rare CD's. Hopefully this fares better than the time I was in Salt Lake City.

On a sad note: Life got a little less lonely when you showed up, and with you leaving I'm scared of reverting back to that nutcase I was early last year. I am really going to miss you.

29 For A Moment

Some people say that writing is healthy. At the moment I'm not so I'll try anything.

I'm under the weather because we covered up the mirrors in the hotel room with my blanket so no one could cheat playing Indian poker and I forgot to take them down and I slept with the air conditioner on full blast.

I haven't written in a while so there should be more to talk about than that.

My office laptop died on me after the weekend I decided to buy a portable hard drive. So somehow it's not as bad. The first few days without a service desktop were hard though. It was like one of those X-men adventures where they lose their powers and have to survive on wits alone. Usually involving a Danger Room sequence. Geek alert.

Birthday came and went with a bit more fanfare than usual. Probably because the universe owes me from last year. Thanks to everyone who greeted and thanks for the cake(s). I think the healing has begun.

With the exodus of two important channels (Jack TV and Basketball TV) from our cable provider and the writer's strike, cable is officially crap. What's worse is they taunted us with Discovery Travel and Living for a couple of weeks before pulling it out as well. Thank God for P2P. You hear me? P2P! Large entertainment conglomerates, you brought this on yourselves!

I think the music has also plateaud. I hope I'm wrong and I've just been watching the wrong channels and reading the wrong blogs.

Canceled my gym membership, in a strange twist on the New Year's resolution staple. Simply don't have time to make it worth the money its charging. And it's also one tired scene; everyone I know has either canceled themselves or just stopped going. I need some physical activity to take its place though. My weight is at a two-year high.

I have 6-book backlog from being too busy:

• Curiosities of Wine - Pamela Vandyke Price
• History of Beauty - Umberto Eco
• Heartbreak Soup - Gilbert Hernandez
• McSweeney's Quarterly Concern - Various
• Lolita - Vladimir Nabokov
• Fever Pitch - Nick Hornby

Which is also keeping me from buying more books.

My mom and I cleaned Zara up today. Need closet space and fast.

Change is in the air. Good or bad? Probably good, by default.