Who turned on the TB?

This March has been a trying month for me. It was March 13 when I received the result of my medical examination from our company’s health care provider. I never thought of the gravity of the impression found in my chest x-ray until my sir told me that if proven active, I should get medication for a six- month period; by implication I would not be employed. Yeah, my x-ray said I am a suspect of primary tuberculosis.

By 5pm that day, I do not know what to do or what I am doing, except that I can see the world crashing before me. My dream of shifting to another career, saving up for the next months, and my consistent bonding with my loved ones would all be affected if the result is positive. It scared me to death I almost cried while talking to my two closest friends on the phone. It was like a scene in a movie; touching to watch on screen, but devastating to experience.

Good enough, I was reminded that “Nothing is impossible with God who strengthens me.” I know that in times like these, Faith in God is my first and last refuge. Only through it can I surpass yet another challenge in my twenty years of existence.

The following days, I went to the hospital, treated as a patient, anxiously waited for my results, and revisited my pulmonary doctor. He said that basing from all that has been said and done, I have an inactive PTB. I was once exposed to the bacteria, although it has not affected my system. Clinical procedures confirmed that my sputum (phlegm) does not contain the bacteria responsible for TB, my two chest x-rays (with a one year interval) looks identical, hence, it has not gone worse, and it does not pose a threat to the people surrounding me. Also, I do not have cough or phlegm for the last months. Thank you Lord for these findings! For the record, hindi ako nakakahawa.

Until now I feel cowardice whenever sharing my recent encounter with mother med. Its world of drugs and machines, medication, tiled floors and ceilings, and masked personnel scares me since childhood. But through it all, I repeatedly hum, “Nothing is impossible with God who strengthens me.” And it is true, it was true, and forever will be true.

After that period, I learned to be more conscious of my environment, more faithful to my source of strength and healing, and more compassionate with the people who have it, even to those with other conditions. I know that the challenge for me is not over yet. As long as I am living, there will be another storm. The good thing about it is that every single day of the year, there would be sunlight.

Taxi Tales: Anting- Anting and Gays in Heaven

Last Thursday, I was having second thoughts of going in an ‘official business trip’. Since it is part of my job and no one else is available, I committed. Not to mention that I am bringing a million peso check.

On my way to UST and back to our office in Makati, I hired two taxis and made acquaintances with the drivers.

First is a former amateur boxer in GenSan. He said that when he was younger, he was a victor- winning all local boxing matches, especially during fiestas. He revealed that in Mindanaoan regions, anting-anting (amulet, charm) is commonly used to win or earn something in your favor. Allegedly, he, among Rolando Navarete and Manny Pacquaio have used such to knock down their foes.

Locals believed that during Navarete’s fame, he used a ‘kulintas’ (kwintas, necklace) as a secret ingredient. This has been stolen from their family and they never knew who the theft was or to whose hands it landed. Kuya said that maybe Pacquaio got it because Manny once saw a necklace floating in the sea.

Baka yun ang ginagamit niya. O baka nakatago dun sa kwintas niya kapag lalaban siya, referring to PacMan’s rosary as we see in all his fights.

Meanwhile, the second is married and a father of three. When we stopped at Petron, he asked me, bakla ka ba? Surprised, I answered, hindi po, bakit? He explained that he had encountered gay passengers who are Thomasians.Hindi ako tiga-UST at nagta-trabaho na po ako, was my immature defense.

He ranted as if we were two people sitting in a veranda, drinking beer with roasted peanuts, and he has just been dumped by a gay benefactor.

Mas madali maging lalaki di ba? (Opo) Kasi kahit pangit kang lalaki, basta may pera, gwapo ka na.

To be fair, I hope that he has heard of the saying, “Pag ang lalaki gipit, sa bakla kumakapit” so he could realized that no matter how ugly a gay is, as long as s/he could send a person to school, s/he, too, becomes a maiden in the eyes of his/her beneficiary.

May mga nasakay ako noon mga bakla, ang lalaki ng suso (chuckles), puro gawang Thailand (Kasi po tanggap na dun ang ganun)

Nakinig ka ba kila Korina dati? Sabi ng isang caller na bakla, tatanggapin pa rin daw sila sa langit pag namatay sila (laughs). Tangina! Pati ba naman sa langit tuturuan mo ng kabaklaan ang mga santo? (Tumawa rin ako)

When we were approaching TWC, I realized how surprised I was to hear the drivers’ stories. At least, they had the opportunity to talk to someone amidst the exhausting streets of Manila and Makati. And I thank them because they changed my mood. They inspired me to smile and to write.

I did not mind asking their names and whereabouts, just knowing them through stories is enough for a morning treat.

P.S. I did not like to mention Korina (Sanchez) because she has a reputation for being a b**ch, but since she was included in the storytelling, I have to.

My laptop is not a pig! tao siya...

This morning, I watched a film in my laptop, Clayton (his name is John Mayer’s middle name). As usual, I took out his battery to prevent excess heat, and to my dismay, he resisted when I inserted the cable connected to the electric plug.

This is the first time he snubbed me like that. I was nervous.

I had to then use his remaining 17 minutes and see what happens next. As the film progresses, I anxiously watch him take his last breaths. Then it happened. He shut down, still without light when I plugged in the charger and cable… I felt like a part of me has died.

3rd Birthday

On May 14, it’s his junior year. I thought that this is farewell for us. Several minutes after, he lit up again. Thanks God! Clayton has served me well. He has been a very loyal companion through my trying times in college. Among the outputs I did with him were:

*Thesis
*Two Claymations
*Film Script
*Blogs
*Music Video, et al

I am not prepared to let go of him. Just not yet.

Signs of Old Age

Three years for a laptop’s life span is very good. I knew those of my friends who just made it little less than a year. Hence, I am proud of Clayton. Technically, without him, I would not have graduated Cum Laude. It was tough to take on a predominantly technical course like Mass Communication. I needed gadgets, especially an efficient laptop.

After I graduated from college, the disc drive of Clayton failed. I think dusts have accumulated and I have to clean it. More so, I haven’t scanned him in a year, perhaps. 

I may have been insensitive because during his ailing times, I didn’t nurse him.

Whatever Happens: Hibernate, Restart or Shut Down

I know that there have been signs and I have to be more cautious of using him in the future because I might lose him for real. But come what may: hibernate, restart or shut down, I will continue holding him dear; someone who has a place in my heart.

THE KITE RUNNER (2003)

Khaled Hosseini/ Novel/ Php 200.00

Brothers in bond, but not in blood, or so I think.

While reading this debut novel of Hosseini, I could not help but pray to myself: I wish it did not have to happen.

It still pains to run, play, and fly kites with Amir and Hassan; two boys whose lives have been connected since childhood. Hosseini makes it easier to read as each turn of the page adds up to their years, which then allows the boys to mature as men.

There are moments when I pause to catch my breath, cut my surprise, or wipe out a tear. Aside from Jew- Nazi stories, I am always captivated by stories of friendship. Putting the boys in an unruly community during a repressed 70’s Afghanistan, and connecting their bloodlines on the latter part of the story, are two of the strongest ingredients that make up a buffet filled with a platter of loyalty, a bowl of love, spoonfuls of neglect, betrayal, caste and denial, and a main course of redemption.

The Kite Runner is indeed a treat. I said it before and I will never grow weary of saying it again; it is one of my favourite stories, if not, the. It is an after-movie novel which I read and since then, I feel like a part of me resides an Amir, who constantly seeks for Baba’s approval, and a Hassan, who is a loyal brother and friend.

Segue: Books such as A Separate Peace, and Boy in the Striped Pajamasboth feature brotherly bond which started from childhood, and have changed the protagonists’ lives ever since. 

RUNNING WITH SCISSORS (2002)

Augusten Burroughs/ Memoir/ Php 150.00

No one is spare from being a child. But to unfortunate others, they are spared of their childhood.

In this compelling memoir, Burroughs generously recounts his early years living with his psychotic mom Dierdre, negligent father Norman, barely visible brother, and ironically crazy family of his parents’ psychiatrist Dr. Finch.

Funny and witty are both understatements to the style of writing put in this book. Burroughs shares how he felt for his first boyfriend Neil; less talk, more sex, and much more devoutness. He also introduces the Finch family through itemizing the bizarre interiors of their pink house, writing down their curses, up to revealing some of their wildest take on faith and destiny.

For a memoir to be this keen and vain, it is undoubtedly written by someone whose observation of his childhood translates to life long-kept memories, and only through writing them could he be able to say his childhood is so F***ed up. In the end, I thank him for sharing his stories and make me be grateful of mine.

I read it in the jeepney, in the house and in the office, and I feel lucky to read Burroughs, for he has a great sense of entertainment.

Segue: ABNKKBSNPLAko  and Stainless Longganisa are two entertaining memoires of Filipino satirical author penned as Bob Ong. You might want to read them first before going foreign.

THE SECRET LIFE OF BEES (2002)

Sue Monk Kidd/ Novel/ Php 75.00

                In my previous entries, I normally express what connections I feel in the book and the reasons why I like it. This time though, I will be answering eleven “Questions for Discussions” included in The Secret Life of Bees.

1. Were you surprised to learn that T. Ray used to be different, that he once truly loved Deborah? How do you think Deborah’s leaving affected him? Did it shed any light on why T. Ray was so cruel and abusive to Lily?

                I am not surprised to learn that T. Ray used to genuinely love Deborah. Probably because I know how a man feels when he sincerely loves a woman- the feeling remains eternal.  And as I was reading, I hold in my heart the hope that T. Ray really did, even for once.

                Deborah’s leaving crashed T. Ray entirely. He lost a man of dreams, a gentle and loving father, a kind neighbour, and a faithful son of God. Deborah’s parting justifies T. Ray’s change of persona; however, his actions remain unjustified.

2. Had you ever heard of ‘kneeling on grits’? What qualities did Lily have that allowed her to survive, endure, and eventually thrive despite T. Ray?

                One of the old-fashioned corporal punishments practiced in the Philippines is by kneeling, not on grits, but on rock salt or monggo. Sometimes with things lifted in both hands, or with swatting or slapping involved. Luckily, I have not experienced such.

                Meanwhile, Lily is a will-powered teenager. Despite her youth, she is molded by strength, conviction, dignity, and love. She uses these to escape from brutality and injustice, and later on finds belongingness and family.

3. Who is the queen bee in this story?

                The queen bee, as described in the novel, is the source of oneness of an entire colony. She is strictly guarded and lives a luxurious life. Once gone, the entire colony gravely suffers and dies. Suffice to say that she is the center of another universe we do not live in. If I may, the queen bees in the story are the Black Madonna and August Boatwright.

                The Black Madonna (or Black Mama Mary) represents the inner strength that everybody possesses. We feel her mostly during solitude and trying times. One finds peace from feeling and trusting that she is enough because she is loved. She is protected by the mother of Jesus Christ. She is treated like her daughter.

                Meanwhile, August Boatwright, being the eldest of the Calendar sisters, seems to be the perfect older sister that everyone wishes to have. She is a mother, father, brother, sister, priest, doctor, leader, cook, and adviser- combined. She knows your deepest concerns even when not telling them, and she manifests composure during the hardest times in the women’s lives.

4. Lily’s relationship to her dead mother was complex, ranging from guilt to idealization, to hatred, to acceptance. What happens to a daughter when she discovers her mother once abandoned her? Is Lily right- generally, would people rather die than forgive? Was it harder for Lily to forgive her mother or herself?

                Lily’s relationship to her dead mother becomes complex when she starts to (1) remain guilty for accidentally killing her, and (2) create an impression of a perfect Deborah. She boxes herself in a fairytale story because she is escaping a harsh reality. And truly, no one can blame such fourteen year-old.

                On another note, I believe that arrogant people would really rather die than forgive. But to those who have changed over time, it is easier to forgive than to be doomed in hatred. With commendable help from Rosaleen, Boatwright sisters, and the Daughters of Mary, Lily eventually forgives herself and her mother and realizes that her life is precious, and so does she.

5. Lily grew up without her mother, but in the end she finds a house full of them. Have you ever had a mother figure in your life who wasn’t your true mother? Have you ever had to leave home to find home?

                Aside from my mother, no one has affected and changed me notably. Though I dearly remember special women who have imparted wisdom, I still do not consider them immediately next to my mother.

                Leaving home to find another home is a sad chapter in anyone’s life. I find home to be the safest among the places I have been to. Of course, there are times when I wish I am with friends and caring groups, but home spells family. And family spells love. Love, then, spells life.

6. What compelled Rosaleen to spit on the three men’s shoes? What does it take for a person to stand up with conviction against brutalizing injustice? What did you like best about Rosaleen?

                Dignity and self-righteousness is what compels Rosaleen to spit on those racists. It takes faith in man and in God to rival social injustices. I admire brave Rosaleen for standing up and fighting for her freshly- enacted right amidst a racist American society. My favorite Rosaleen trait is obviously her dignity. The ‘I ain’t saying sorry to them bastards’ attitude is highly commendable.

7. Have you ever heard of the Black Madonna? What do you think of the story surrounding the Black Madonna in the novel? How would the story be different if it had been a picture of a White Virgin Mary? Do you know women whose lives have been deepened or enriched by a connection to an empowering Divine Mother?

                Before this novel, I have not heard of the Black Madonna. The story of the Black Madonna (Madonna of Chains) in the novel is an instrument to gauge the roots of faith of the Daughters of Mary. I honestly could not think of it being white. And lastly, I do not know a women’s group whose lives have been deepened or enriched by a connection to an empowering Divine Mother. I only know a congregation called Sisters of Mary, whose advocacy is educating the poor and providing them livelihood. In fact, they are one of our partners in our scholarship program.

8. Why is it important that women come together? What did you think of the Calendar Sisters and the Daughters of Mary? How did being in the company of this circle of females transform Lily?

                First of all, I am a guy, therefore I could only speak what I think is appropriate. Over the years, women have successfully battled their rights and causes, and have been heard. This is one proven result of oneness of the women. Worldwide, there are notable women leaders in politics and pioneers in education, science, peace, health, and church.

                Going back, the Calendar Sisters provides Lily a family while the Daughters of Mary gives her a community. In all, she can now claim an identity. Being in such companies, Lily realizes the importance of forgiveness, inner strength, love, and a call for maturity.

9. May built a wailing wall to help her come to terms with the pain she felt. Even though we don’t have May’s condition, do we also need rituals, like wailing walls, to help us deal with grief and suffering?

                In Jewish practice, a wailing wall is located in Jerusalem to serve as direct channel to God. Tourists gather and pray or mourn, whichever they find fitting. They insert papers in the crevices containing their prayers and intentions. I think that May is clever to create her own wailing wall. It helps her all the time.

                There is nothing wrong with rituals or practices that help us cope with the harshness of reality. But more than that, I think we should never lose faith and never cease to pray. On another note, whenever I feel like prayers are not enough, I write in my diary, talk to a trusted friend, and blog through my social networks.

10. How would you describe Lily and Zach’s relationship? What drew the together? Did you root for them to be together?

                Lily and Zach’s admiration for each other is fairly normal.  Given that they routinely see each other in one setting makes it easier for them to grow closer and be sweeter. I honestly do not care whether they end up or not. Zach has dreams to pursue and so does Lily. The novel says they will part ways but in the meantime, I hope they get to achieve their dreams first.

11. Project into the future. Does Lily ever see her father again? Does she become a beekeeper? A writer? What happens to Rosaleen? What happens to Lily and Zach? Who would Zach be today?

                Every reader wants a happy ending, including me. Hence, given the chance to project the characters destiny, the following would be my preferences:

                Lily sees T. Ray again, but this time, T. Ray is a changed man. Either he serves in a church or he is a successful businessman (exporter of peaches). If not, Lily sees T. Ray after she gets married and is a mother now, but this time; T. Ray is bedridden and is soon to die.

                I am certain that Lily will be a beekeeper. She spends her adolescence and womanhood with the Boatwright Sisters and be a honey bee entrepreneur too. She could also become a writer if she would be able to translate her childhood into a beautiful story. Or she could write about a common girl becoming an ‘it’ girl in their school, and how it is not important to be one.

                I hope Rosaleen finds her man. It would be nice for her to start a family and raise her children well. Lily and Zach, as I said before, would accomplish their dreams first, and then they see each other after a long time, and go into relationship. Lastly, I wish Zach would be a case-winning, ass- kicking lawyer.

           The Secret Life of Bees is a treasure revealed. It teaches readers to believe in the divine power of love. It confirms the inevitable value of maternal love. It welcomes everyone who has personal issues to the pink house, in the hope that one day; they could get out of it as a changed person. You need not to cry while reading it. It is enough for you to realize that while you can, taste the sweetness of life and hum with your loved ones.

              Segue: if you are into paternal love, try reading The Road byCormac McCarthy, a story of a father and son amidst a post-apocalyptic America. Painful, tiring, and emotionally-awakening. Also try reading The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night Time by Mark Haddon (the story is not really paternal love), I just wish to introduce you to Christopher’s father, Ed.

MISTER PIP (2006)

Lloyd Jones/ Novel/  Birthday gift from Khaye

               The novel is new to my senses, as it set in Oceania, giving focus to Australia and Jones’ homeland, New Zealand. I dared read it because for one, it is a gift from my girl best friend, Khaye, and also, it would be the first novel I will read which is crafted from South Pacific.

                Set amidst a war-thorn, remote Papua New Guinean island of black inhabitants, Mister Pip’s premise is to illustrate the inevitable spark of imagination once it is lighted. This is achieved through the mentorship and nobility of Mister Tom Watts, the male protagonist, and the pages of the Charles Dickens’ classic Great Expectations.

                Mr. Watts, or playfully called Pop Eye (for having popping eyes) is the only white man in the island. He is ironically known for his obscurity. He is initially introduced as a neighbour, to a teacher, then a saviour. He has grown so much affection and has impacted on the children’s lives, most especially Matilda.

                Meanwhile, Matilda is a teenager who longs for a father, never rejects learning, and is always proud of her skin color. Throughout the novel, she develops an utmost admiration for Mr. Watts and finds herself thorn between living in a Watts- Dickens world versus her mother’s faithful take on life. Despite these, Matilda grows up to be a fine lady, with credits to both Mr. Watts and her late mom, Dolores.

                Mister Pip is very inspiring. It makes me remember the people who have imparted me with wisdom and perceptions; including those I did not personally meet. It is also painful on some chapters; which helps Matilda’s character to grow as woman.

                While reading Mister Pip, I feel like a part of me is a Matilda ready to devour on literature, learn from the past, and face the present; while a part of me is a Mr. Watts, selfless in sharing his knowledge from the outside world. On another note, I wish to create my own Pip (Great Expectations’ main protagonist) in the future, an able companion to generations of readers.

                Read Mister Pip. Honestly, I am not sure where to point you for the copies. What I am certain though is, it is a pearl from the Pacific, which when found in a bookstore, would be worth the treasure hunting.

                Segue: Always dearly remember special people who have shaped your life in one way or another. Like August Boatwright in The Secret Life of Bees (Sue Monk Kidd), Morrie Schwarts in Tuesdays With Morrie, or the tandem of Albert Lewis and Henry Covington in Have A Little Faith (both by Mitch Albom). By the way, Mister Pip is soon to hit the theaters :)

Pencil Awareness Part 3

Henry Miller, an author whose works I have not yet read, once said that:

The best way to get over a woman is to turn her into literature.

It caught my attention easily. If one would follow this rule in its literal sense, then I bet the book industry would have a better future in sight. Not only would it benefit immensely; the world would also see a new generation of heart-broken poets and writers.

What I am getting at is... as I am writing this, I am thinking of a girl. One girl who can now be put as Gotye's smash hit: somebody that i used to know... or is she really already a somebody to me?

See.. how could I possibly turn into literature someone who I have held dearly for at least a year? It is not easy. 

If I may compare meeting a special someone to reading a book:

It is hard when the first time you opened the book containing her story, you knew that it would  be a good read. There would be countless of good experiences as you progress, and like in most fairy tales, you wished that the author would give you a happy ending.

Indeed, she may have been a good chapter in my life, but as a reader, there are times that it is  painful to leave a chapter and proceed to the next one. More so, finish the book where she lived. But as it is, I have to finish the book because no matter how good it is, there are surely better stories yet unread or unheard of. 

It is hard turning a woman into literature when:

You liked her because she is a woman of good character and straight values.

Her family is faithful and bonded.

She has dreams to pursue both as a professional and as an ordinary wife which adds up to her presence.

You call each other not by names, but by cheesy terms.

She confides to her parents (mostly her mom) everything you did for her and almost everything you did together. It makes you feel freer to do things because as long as you respect their decision, you are not betraying their trust, but instead is gaining it no matter what.


I do not exactly know why I am writing about this.But looking back on that evening, that evening when I so thought that ours is not going to work, it makes me want to question my decision to let her go.

Yeah, I have surely done it to save myself from shattering into pieces but... wasn't it a challenge given to me so I could prove that I am sincerely, genuinely worthy of her? I guess so. Sadly, damage has been done and so prevention is needed no more; what is missing now is the cure.

Cure for me.

I hope you do not get me wrong at this but I am over that chapter in my life. 'Over' in a sense that I do not see a possibility of us getting back together. Hence, I hold no false hope nor do I believe in friends telling me there is. 'Over' also in a sense that I am genuinely excited to find another puzzle piece that fits me better.

When Henry Miller wrote down those words, could he possibly be heart broken, too? or maybe, he is consoling a friend. I do not know for certain. What I know is that this is a short non-linear blog I came up with, and I believe that this is part of literature.

When I was a child, I used to have a big crayon for coloring an apple. When I started to write, I was very selective of my pencils. They have to be sharp,strong, and long. And now that I am grown up, whenever I wanted to make an artwork, I use a colored pencil. I noticed that I am not yet good at using it. Perhaps this inability to master holding a combined crayon and pencil is a manifestation that I cannot produce a worthy output using it, yet.

There are other instruments to create a lasting work of art. That, I am sure of :)

Good night, friends! :)

All Is Well

As I write this, I just changed into my usual sando and boxer short ready-to-sleep attire. I got home revived from an overnight stay with Barkadang Walang Panglan at Arianne’s crib in Silang, Cavite.

Prior to my distressing, I suffered through four gruelling days of overstaying at work. Tuesdays and Wednesday were spent 0930 P.M. for lay outing a news release for our Foundation, Thursday was spared in preparation for our company’s Trick or Treat. That one was until 1000 P.M., and then Friday morning our call time was 0700 A.M. Included in the list of the hurdles was the recent typhoon. With all these in mind, I only thought of one reward: by Saturday and Sunday, I will be with my dear college friends and genuinely enjoy their company.

As part of bonding with my long missed and equally burdened friends, we watched the film Three Idiots Pre; Bollywood film focusing on the story of three engineering students-turned-best friends and their journey through fighting for love, pursuing passion, overcoming fear, and doing everything imaginable (and unimaginable) for a friend.

I know that those of you have watched the film may be teary-eyed now or to better put it, crying. I understand you; for I fell in love with the film as easily as within the first ten minutes. The screenplay is simply beautifully-written. I bet the writer is someone who has been either through so many trials and triumphs in his life or has been unfairly favored with the gift of writing by our Master Scribe. The film is heartwarming. I cannot stop crying not because it is painful, but because it is so inspiring. It made me miss my guy friends Derick and James. Needless to say, among my groups of friends, they are the only ones whom I have not reunited with, yet.

Good news no. 1

The film taught us that whenever we feel unsure, worrisome, afraid, or hopeless, we just have to tap our hearts and whisper ‘all is well’.

Indeed, all is well when you are surrounded by seven of your countless trusted buddies and you are excluded from the hustle and bustle of the metro. All is well when you swap doing the chores, cooking food, buying them in the groceries, and taking pictures. All is well when you know that you missed them and you would endlessly chat in the dining table and the sala. All is well when you know that even if tomorrow you would have to work, you can recall two long days of laughing and loving inside your comfort zone. All is well when you know that after all, they got your back and you got theirs. All is well when you know that no matter how hard hitting your jokes may be, it only meant to say ‘I love you friend’. All is well when I am writing this blog and cannot contain my emotions because I know that we felt better inside and out after our reunion. :’)

 Good news no. 2

I felt particularly excited for Sunday morning because I was anticipating our release in Manila Standard Today. We made a publicity deal with them as part of promoting the efforts of my team, Megaworld Foundation.

By the time I got the copies, I felt thrilled and glad because for one, I was given a chance to do it. Second, it is part of a special edition called ‘CSR giving back to the society’. And third, it was a testament that I can still do things I learned back in school.

B Roll (cut scenes)

By late night, we watched The Hangover II and laughed hard because Chow is one stoned, died, and resurrected bitch, and Alan is annoyingly immature.

We took a series of secret shots of two porn aspirants as inspired by Japanese Hentai. In case you’re wondering, the pics are decent enough to be kept in a comfort room or in a drawer, along with tissues and alcohol. LOL.

We intended and insisted that we swim in the club house but Ayang said otherwise. No one was able to convince (tame) her.

Nadz has a French suitor. Hsam knows the story. We barely do.

Gamz and Ayang nailed most of the pictures themed ‘high fashion’ and ‘sensual’ while I won the ‘alien’ category. Does this mean something? Am I ugly or are my friends really bitchy? Haha.

Hsam is a promising home wrecker. Actually, Mylene predicted she would be one without her 'knowing it'. I can picture Hsam, 40 years old, cyring in the corner and cursing Mylene for that. Sadly Hsam, you first knocked on glass, not on wood. Joke. But it’s okay, as per Zenaida Seba:

Ang mga tala ay gabay lamang. Mayroon tayong free will, gamitin natin ito... Your call, friend.

We drank and barely emptied a Tanduay Mojito. It does not taste good even when cold. Nobody got drunk and/or tipsy.

Kath lost a lot of weight. Her hair cut fits her so much better. She works as a specialist for a water-distribution company. We thought she is a receptionist.

Even when we are already friends for four years, we had A LOT of awkward moments during dinner. I don’t why but we were just crazy that night. We even tried to stop talking to each other over dinner but by at most, ten seconds, we were bursting with laughter. It was just pleasantly, happily awkward.

Encore

God, I feel so blessed. And I thank You because You surely know how to uplift broken motivations, refocus distracted people, and reunite an awesome barkada.

Kafka on the Shore (2005)

Haruki Murakami/ Novel

I have long wanted to read Murakami as he is one of the most recommended Asian authors there are. And to my judgement: he never failed his readers. It feels good to be an addition to his followers.

As promised by the synopsis, Kafka on the Shore took me to a journey involving talking cats, raining fish and leeches, Johnny Walker as a Villain and Colonel Sanders (KFC icon) as a concept. We have Kafka; claiming he to be the world’s toughest 15-year old boy. He ran away from home having an utter disgust for his father. And we also have Nakata, in his sixties, a victim of wartime affliction; something involving the air which made him two weeks unconscious, and upon waking up, lose all his memory and intelligence.

Aside from hating his father, Kafka also tried hard to escape his father’s curse of killing him, falling in love with his mother, and sleeping with her sister (Oediphal prophecy), but to no avail- so to speak.

The two protagonists were lucky to have loyal buddies named Oshima and Hoshino, respectively. Kafka was lost in direction and purpose in life while Nakata is literally lost- for words, meanings, memory, and personal history. Oshima was generous enough to share his wisdom to Kafka and be his guardian. Hoshino, on the other hand, turned his back on everything he possessed in order to assist old Nakata.

Upon reading the novel, I felt a pleasantly crazy feeling stirring inside me. It was plotted very wisely and words of wisdom were overflowing. Fate kept the lives of these characters intertwined. Ironically though, their roads have never met.

Kafka is indeed a very interesting central character. I felt his journey through adolescence, solitude, sex, love, and getaways. His relationship with his turned-out-to-be mother, Miss Saeki is extremely wild yet solemn. To cap it all, I just wished him all the best in life. He is young and full of potentials. I hope he could redeem himself and his youth.

Meanwhile, reading Nakata in between is a little heartbreaking. He is like a grandfather who has high morale; one you know who have lived a very good and contented life, yet it pains a lot to know that after the accident, his family disregarded him and he suffered a series of unfortunate events. What makes thing worse is that he does not know the gravity of his misfortunes. He is awe-inspiring because despite his illiteracy and ignorance, he lived a very simple, and honest life. His seemingly pointless existence has unconsciously changed Hoshino. His death made me cry not mainly because he is gone, but due to Hoshino’s attachment to him. Ah... wish you could read that chapter, too :’(

Kafka on the Shore is overall a good book to read. Just to warn you, it is long and visually heavy yet highly entertaining. It taught me to (1) accept the dictate of fate to men while living happily and meaningfully, nevertheless, (2) and accept loss and learn from it.

This is just a short entry but thank you for reading, by the way. I sincerely wish you get to know Kafka; especially Nakata.

Our James Morrison Concert Experience

On the dot at five thirty P.M.

Rushed to MRT at six.

Reached Araneta Coliseum by six thirty.

Waited to redeem my ticket until eight P.M.

A very hectic and tight time frame I had to endure only to experience James Morrison's artistry.

It is the first time of the English pop singer in the Philippines and as soon as I found out he would be performing for his fans- and I am one of them, bigtime- I did not hesitate to watch him. That is the least that I can do to welcome one of the singers who continually inspires and relaxes me with his songs.

Mind you- this is not a blog about the concert of James Morrison. This is an entry about the prelude of the concert.

Before screaming with joy, we were first panicking because of a commotion regarding our online purchased tickets from one seemingly reputable online dealer. To cut it short, we were expecting to redeem our Upper Box A tickets at the venue. However, to our surprise, both the rules and customer support agent said we should have purchased the tickets in their office at Makati. Mind you, it was not directly stated in the voucher and nobody informed us except when we called them on the night itself. So there we were, gradually losing hope because of misleading information and yet there was no one who came to our rescue.

So, as my patience emptied, I asked the woman who answered our phone calls.

- Sino ka? At anong trabaho mo?

- Si ____ po, customer support.

- Ah, so what kind of support are you giving your customers, then?

*Dead Air

***

- Anong mairerecommend mong solusyon dito ngayon? Naghihintay kami sa wala.. Wala di ba?

- (After few seconds) Wala po

The company does not deserve to be named in this blog for it did not render us quality customer service nor would I want them to pay me for making us feel like ticket-less fans. I am actually sorry that we were rude to rant on the agent as she is not the one handling such transactions; she's only tasked to answer calls and sometimes receive moral damages.

However, the company has to know that these situations really arise. And I think- just to be fair- apologies like...

Hindi po kasi namin alam na may darating diyan (Araneta) na walang ticket (voucher lang), and

First time po itong nangyari sa 'min...are plainly stupid.

As a practicing online dealer of (in this sense) discounted concert tickets, how could you not expect professional customers coming to the venue hoping to redeem the tickets on the night itself- after battling with work loads? Assuming- for the sake of argument- that we can get the tickets at your office in Makati during certain working hours, what would happen to us then if we cannot get them because- as a matter of fact- we are also working during those times. Should you not have the courtesy of informing your customers through phone calls or mail about what they should do? Or is it really hard to conduct business personally that you would insist on not sending a representative to deal with the rising temperaments of these irate professionals? Better think again.

Online businesses can not be entirely propelled by online and electronically-mediated transactions. Your purchasers are real people with real issues once you upset them. Therefore, give them face value and not the music of One Direction and Foster the People as caller ring backs.

Long before we bitched the agent, we realized that we cannot claim the tickets anymore. And so, we have to look for the next best thing: buy tickets from an insider. Instantly, I asked a guy wearing all black, looking much of a production personnel, and anxiously holding his tickets while walking back and forth near the red gate. We asked- begged him to sell us his tickets for Php 1,500.00 and we were lucky because (1) he is obviously not a fan, (2) he has a spare Patron ticket, and (3) the tix are both in the Lowerbox; much nearer than our originally preferred seats.

Needless to say, my friend Lhong has miraculously procured two Lowerbox tickets; so we already have four. After a while, Hsam, Lhong, Mhy, and I are assured of seats nearer to James.

So that was how we ended up enjoying the concert. We may have gone through a highly annoying encounter with the dealer but I think we are really destined to watch James perform live. In the end, it was an additional to-be-cherished and to-be-treasured moments with Barkadang Walang Pangalan. Indeed, all is well that ends well.

Again, I am deeply apologetic to the customer support agent, but I am not sorry- along with five others who relied on the online purchase- for standing up to our oppressor that night. And I don't think I'll trust them again because as Morrison said:

You can't play on broken strings...

How can I give anymore,

When I love you a little less than before?