a happy irony

You know, deep in your gut, you want it. Episodes after episodes that you thought would never last are showered with moments of craving for it. Every crying spell is interjected with seconds of wishing you are nowhere but there. But as all things one desperately longs for --- that fuzzy-fluffy pen your seatmate's flaunting in second grade , that new jelly-kelly bag everybody's parading in Glorietta back in '01, that ultimate college crush you've been pining on for three solid years, it's not everything it's cracked up to be. Far from it.

You'll never thought you'll see the day. But it comes your way. It sneaks up to you in a scheming way, more like how good love stories meet their end --- gradually, then suddenly. You just wake up and feel absolutely nothing. Nothing of those aches you're so used to having for breakfast, not a tear left to wipe, not a pain to drown on those wonderful dreams you hope would never cease. When you're so used to nerve wrecking emotions, happy places are the most scary things. Everything you have been used to, all those emotions that stirs your inside, those that have dictated every move and every thought you've taken for as long as you remember, all seems to have dried up. Nothing holds you but that unfamiliar calm sensation bliss brings about. All that's left is that floating feeling of emptiness, like nothing would rock your core ever again.

Happy places aren't supposed to be scary, but what's familiar is comforting, and this is nowhere you've been to since you can remember. Yes, you've caught a glimpse of it. Once in a while, you find yourself taking a peek, during one of those episodes in what it seems to be lifetimes ago. Those miniscule events, a smile, a hug, a kiss, they bring you here to visit. They made you fervently wish for it. They help continue the idea, the illusion alive. But now that you see no soon end to this ease and calmness, you wonder why you spent your life desiring to be here.

Now, you end up longing for that one instant that make you feel something again. Make you feel alive again. You dream to bleed, because nothing makes you feel more alive when something that vivid, that visceral flow right out of your being. You try to bolt, awaiting to stumble upon something piercing along your way, but midway your journey, you catch yourself. Then you realize, happy places and sad places is practically one and the same thing. You're mostly out of it, numb half the time. Words escape you and thoughts just pass by without so much as a whisper. You try to say something magical, profound, thought provoking but you just end up with mindless ramblings of the first thing that strays the realm of your psyche. It never suits you. You realize nothing ever will.

Much Deserved Island Getaway

Attention all ye who share our work-aholism's curse. The word "vacation" proudly makes a reappearance in my family's dictionary.

So it's not exactly a week-long affair in some far flung exotic tropical haven, not even a weekend in a cold breezy mountainside resthouse. But after slaving day after day to earn our keep, a day spent somewhere that have a semblance of the outdoors is very much needed and welcomed. We used to go to Island Cove every weekend some three, four years ago. With no way better to put it, crap happened, and let's just say, we were glad to have at least the holy week and christmas two-day holiday off. Now that the tide seems to be shift in our favor, so to speak, and having Ouie's and Kulet's bday within the same week in March, the shop was closed shut temporarily and we trooped off to Cavite, a stone- throw away from Manila, but nonetheless outside urbania.

The place did not change much. We settled in one of those floating cabanas in the fishing village. After lunch, the folks took their place for some shut eye, the nerdy one brought a boyfriend to sleep on (comfy hehe) and a book to drive her to sleep *ahem*, and the rest donned on swimwears and headed off the resort's pool. After being satisfied with a midday nap, the vacationeers rented out multi-colored bamboo fishing rods and tormented the schools of bangus which when caught would set you back 150 buckaroos a kilo, a killing i tell you. By afternoon, the halo halo's came and everybody digged excitedly in.

You live for days like this. Hope there's more to come

island cove's bday girl 03.06

Bye-bye, Baghdad

Three days of dealing with heaven-sent (?) fixers and fruitless charming of poker-faced bureaucrats paid off. I finally got my new passport. Bummed out when i saw this.

Damn, there goes my Baghdad summer escapade. Afghanistan, here i come.

I'm VIMP-in'

Getting a boxed DVD set may not be the most romantic of gifts a boyfriend could give to his girlfriend on their second year anniversary --- unless, the said girlfriend is me. I've been dropping hints to beb for sometime now on how addicted I am to a certain american series that tickles the wannabe sleuth in me and to say that I'm ecstatic when i finally got hold of the 8 dvd's of pure Veronica Mars season 1 would be an understatement.

I always find myself attracted to mysteries. I used to collect Nancy Drew books when i was young while I knew all my friends thought the Sweet Valley High Twins were way more fashionable. I used to love playing Where in the world is Carmen Sandiego to the point of practically memorizing all state capitals, not to mention their currency, which i found quite handy during fourth year World History (you can say it, NERD!). Im also a sucker for CSI, Vegas, that is, nothing beats the original (but this is another entry altogether). Needless to say Veronica Mars filled my conspiracy theory-appetite.

Although admittedly a tv-junkie, there are only a few series on tv that i would literally bang my head to the wall if i missed an episode. This IS one of them (actually one of two , that's how picky i am to shows i would be obsessed about. YES, obsessed.) To say it's just a highschool sleauth show would be seeling it short. It has a damn good romantic story line. Ok fine, i'll fess up. It has given me more kilig moments than i could take in one sitting hour. Kilig as in shouting through my pillow kilig. Fecking cute guys help a lot, especially chubby chubby Duncan (i have my biasses). So even though i've already watched the damn series at least thrice in dvd, it doesn't stop me from turning down beb dinner invites wednesday nights. Luckily, the boyfriend understands that his girlfriend has addictive personality.

The thing is, only a few people share my obsession to the witty writing and fast paced show of Rob Thomas. Ok, so it's not a few people, the show is destined to have its own cult following, but it's a half a million viewers short on what it's producers would call commercially-viable. My show (yes, im owning it) is in the brink of going to cancellation heaven. So here's my plea. Please please, if anyone from the US happens to unwittingly cross my blog's path please go here and get a postcard. Yes, im show-pimping. I'll do anything to make Veronica go to college. I'll walk on shards of glass, eat gillette blades, strutt over coal ambers, anything just to save this show. Unfortunately, the vote of a crazy fanatic living in the Philippines doesn't count. If it only does, they're sure to regret ever mentioning to the C-word. Don't they know i know people? (",)