Happy Birthday to You

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june 22, 2008
12:04pm

chweet chweet. chweet chweet. text message:

i'm okay to be friends if you're okay to be friends.

Holy camote que!!

if there ever was a moment to say "be still, my heart" this would be it.

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- printed here without permission from the blog of Lissa, who's celebrating her birthday today.

To the sexiest and funniest writer who loves to scare little kids and chide me during La Salle-Ateneo games, a happy happy birthday to you!

My Birthday Story

I haven't found the time to blog in the last few weeks. I've been doing some thinking in the sidelines. Deep thinking.

Finally, I selected something to write about.

I've been missing on greeting some of my friends on their birthdays the last few weeks. Anyway, better late than never, I've greeted them post-event with my apologies (...my lame excuse was I totally forgot that it was their bithday).

Four months ago, it was my birthday. Come to think of it, I didn't blog about anything about my birthday then. It was too... extraordinary in a certain way. I think now's a good time to blog about it and keep it preserved as a good memory.

For my birthday four months ago, I had taken a leave (it was a weekday) from office. I was planning to take it easy: chat with my brother the night before to do some catching up, sleep for more than 6 hours on a weekday, have a special breakfast, then drive back to Manila in time for a family+friends-dinner-slash-birthday-treat at a newly-opened restaurant.

I didn't get 6 hours of sleep on my birthday. It was something like four.
I woke up to the sound of my mobile ringing at a pretty early time of the day.
I didn't hear any chirpy female voice at the other end of the line when I answered my phone. Instead, I woke up to the sound of a grown man crying.

How many people would actually hear a grown man cry on the other end of the phone? Probably one in a thousand. But how many people get that kind of wake-up call on their birthdays? Probably one in a million.

The person at the other end of the phone, one of the few guys I preferably hang out with, was asking for my help, desperate for it. He needed to find someone important to him. It was as if someone's life depended on it. He needed a means to get around, travel and search for someone.

It was a no-brainer for me. I offered him the use of my car. He needed it more than I do, I thought at that time. I decided that its okay to sacrifice some of my time to help out the dude, thinking that I'd make it in time for my birthday dinner at Manila anyway.

So, instead of having a special breakfast on my birthday I settled for a quick cup of coffee then bring my car over to him. I didn't make it for dinner at Manila as well, because I waited for him to get back hopefully with his problem resolved (and I was essentially carless).

He got back late that night, around 10 in the evening, and he was able to resolve his problem.

So where's the birthday celebration?

I still decided to drive back to Manila that night. Fortunately, my best friend who was supposed to join the planned birthday dinner party my parents planned for me was expecting that I'd call him sooner or later.

Two minutes before midnight, I was in a parking lot in Alabang with my best friend, a bottle of Shiraz each. I drank it for my good health, and for the relief that hours before I was able to help someone in need despite the sacrifice I made for my schedule and plans. At midnight, the two of us sang "...happy birthday to me...".

Not many people get that opportunity on their birthdays. I personally think it's one of the most unique birthday experiences I've ever gotten.

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Now, remember that I mentioned at the start of this post that I've been doing some deep thinking?

I was thinking that if it were somebody else who seeked for the same assistance on my birthday, would I have willingly helped him never mind the sacrifices I would need to make? Or if it was the same person but I knew him under different circumstances, would I do the same thing as what I've narrated above?

- end -

1. Discordia 2. Relief 3. Milestones

FIRST.
I would never have thought that whom I was certain to be a peacekeeper would put on a mask of discord.
The change in persona took me by surprise, and got me disappointed.
I would like to believe that it was just a mask.
I would like to think that he/she was just on drugs.
Or that the peacekeeper had to resort to war tactics. Some of history’s great leaders believed that peace can be attained by engaging in wars, never mind the collateral damage. Such, I think the peacekeeper thought so.
Otherwise, my belief system needs a revamp.
I’ll sit back, watch and see how the situation will evolve.

SECOND
The last time I had a cold (and not flu) was back in sixth grade.
It was a cold. Not a runny nose which usually goes with my semi-annual flu bouts or my occasional episodes of allergic rhinitis.
It was a cold with the works. Stuffy nose, difficulty breathing through my nostrils, heaps of Kleenex tissues needed. And the characteristic yellow mucus that comes with a bad cold.
I tried all sorts of home remedies. But I think the remedy set which finally cured me was a big steaming bowl of chicken tinola, supplemented by hot calamansi juice with honey.
So after 11 days of having a nasal voice and a blocked airway, I woke up one day with my breathing back to normal.
It’s a simple joy to be back to normal.

THIRD
Of course, reasons to celebrate. Milestones.
Let’s start with a simple thing.
I almost whooped with ecstasy at the swimming pool yesterday.
I managed to do a tumble turn 75% right. Two of my colleagues showed me how early this week, and were giving me pointers on how to do it properly.
Yesterday, I was at the swimming pool again. And I decided to test myself if I can do it.
I think I executed it right, because it felt right and natural. Freestyle swimming: stroke-stroke-breathe-tuck arms in-use core muscles to whip body forward-blow out through nose-twist underwater.
I missed hitting the end-wall of the pool though (was about a foot off). So I wasn’t able to kick against it. Hahaha...

And on to a more grand milestone.
Receiving a big brown envelope is cause for celebration in my workgroup.
I’ve been on my current assignment for only two months, and yesterday I was handed a big brown envelope.
Inside was a letter of congratulations, and stating a certain award.
Wahooo!
That big brown envelope makes my current job a bit more palatable.
And to think that I was doing things normally, my way, my style, the last two months. It seems that my workgroup recognizes such work ethics, and gives corresponding rewards for it.

Oreos

Some years ago, there was this TV commercial featuring a dad and his toddler son with a pile of Oreos and a glass of milk each in front of them. The father teaches the son the “right way” to eat an Oreo cookie: break, lick, then dunk. And then down it with a glass of milk. It was a nice picture of a father-son moment in a setting almost all of us have been in: being alone with your dad at the breakfast table and the rest of the house is still asleep.

Well, I didn’t have an Oreo cookie moment with my dad when I was growing up. Oreos were a luxury for our family when I was a toddler (I had to settle for those local Hi-ro cookies). And my dad doesn’t know the right way to eat an Oreo or a Hi-Ro cookie. It so happens that my instinctive way of eating a Hi-Ro cookie is the same way the Oreo commercial showed it; hence, in other words, I learned how to eat a sandwich cookie by myself.

And that is how pretty much my dad let me grow up. Learn most of the things by myself.

Like tie my shoelaces. (My teachers always wonder why my shoelaces keep coming off).

Or making my own projects from third grade. (I always envied my other classmates who had their collages made by their parents --- they looked really really good).

Or preparing my dad’s coffee. (It took me about a week to figure out how he liked his coffee).

In retrospect, I realize that what seemed to be my dad’s lack of handholding to me when I (and the rest of my siblings) was growing up is his way of teaching us to be independent, creative and competitive. I believe that all those times that when I was struggling to tie my own shoelaces or trying to make my first electrical circuit, my dad was stealthily watching me from a distance and silently cheering me to succeed in my small tasks.

And for that I am thankful. Much of what I have achieved now is mostly because my father taught me how to get or accomplish what I want with my own resources.

At lunch earlier, I had a surpise for my dad. A pack of Oreo cookies.

He grabbed a piece, popped it into his mouth and downed it with coffee. He still doesn't know how to eat an Oreo cookie.

Happy Father’s Day, Pops!

Supernatural

1.
Out of 30-or-so distant relatives whom I got to talk to at my grandfather's funeral/wake all had the same story to share to me:

My lolo has been making the rounds in their dreams. Every single one of them have been haunted by my lolo in their dreams while they were sleeping. Some of them weren't aware of my grandfather's passing away, while the rest simply INITIALLY chose not to attend the funeral or the wake.

So I guess this proves that seeing ghosts and supernatural stuff are common in my mother's side of the family (lolo was my mother's father).

My mom thinks that being the prudent and proud (but stingy) man my grandfather is, he made rounds in the dreamworld to ensure that his wake and funeral is well-attended, thereby generating enough abuloys (alms) to cover most of his own funeral expenses.

Even in death, he remained proud.

2.
Our Baclaran house is my lola's property, and never was my grandfather's. So all the while, I believed that the house test I and the rest of my family believed in will not change in terms of mechanics.

My lola's house test was simple: Bring your friend or guest to our old Baclaran house for a night's stay. If the guest finds himself scared shit or screaming in the middle of the night, he failed the test. If he gets a good night's sleep/rest, he passed the test.

The people who fail would normally describe a clammy feeling of someone grasping their ankles or legs in the middle of their sleep. The really unfortunate ones think that they saw a hand or two hovering above their feet.

My dead grandma grants a good night's sleep to those guests whom she thinks are good influences to the host. Conversely, she provides an "unforgettable" experience to those whom she think will be bad influences.

So far, there have been only four cases of screamers among the various guests that I and the rest of my siblings have brought over to our house for a sleepover.


3.
Now that my grandfather's dead, it seems that there's been a new set of nightmarish experiences at our Baclaran house.

Some of the old people who found themselves dozing off while trying to maintain a vigil had dreams of my lolo sitting on top of their chests, and trying to open their mouths with his bare hands.

I'm puzzled by what that dream meant. None in my immediate family have experienced it so far.

At any rate, I am making a mental note of that particular nightmare. It can be a potential 'test'.

"I Am Rain"

That's the working title of a potential koreanovela-style TV soap opera that I've conceived if I were a scriptwriter.

One does not need to look far to find inspiration for developing a storyline that is the current fad in Asian TV dramas. In fact, the reason why I was able to come up with this blog-post is because I took a macro-perspective of the relationship dynamics of a certain group where I belong to.

I built a character storyboard based on that.

And it turned out to be a really complex one which is good for the purposes of an imaginary TV-novela.



Circles are male characters.
Triangles are female characters.
Arrows represent potential "relationships". Or to state it in another context, these are lines of "interest".
Solid blue lines are lines of preferred acquaintance.
Broken lines are 'relationships subject to interpretation.'
Lightning symbols represent points of conflict.

No names have been provided, but in a Sodoku-like style, I'm putting in one identifier to help the reader figure out who's who in the diagram.

And your last clue: Nope, I am not Rain.

The things that I get to think of just to amuse myself...

Eulogio

I spent last night wearing myself out in order to get a decent night's sleep: an hour and a half at the gym, two hours of badminton after that, and 10 laps in the swimming pool to cap the night. Dinner was a light meal of vegetables and braised pork.

I got to sleep soundly last night. No fits of restlessness, no dreams or nightmares.

At 0510 early this morning, I woke up for no reason. I just found myself with my eyes open staring at the ceiling of my pad. That's weird, knowing that I usually wake up at three in the morning and then snooze until around six-thirty.

I reached across to my bedside table to get my mobile phone. Checked the time. Yup, it was 0510 in the morning.

I saw the LCD display on my phone switch from 0510 to 0511. I've been staring at it for a minute.

And then a text message comes in. "1 message received".

My mom. "Your lolo already passed away."

My "Lolo Daddy" (everybody, including his business associates, calls him "Dad" because he used to control a lot of the properties and businesses in our area -- the palengke, botica, horse-betting stations, the largest grocery in the neighborhood, a hardware store, a bakery and several buildings and houses for rent) is not my favorite grandparent. He's a known womanizer.

But he was a doting grandfather to me.

He got me my first bank account.
He'd give me fifty pesos for every medal I take home at the end of the school year. 20 years ago, fifty pesos was a lot of money for a 9-year old.
He shouldered almost all of my Boy Scout camping trips, including an international jamboree.
He taught me the basics of tennis at the CCP tennis grounds every Sunday.
He pinches my ear if he finds out I haven't gone to confession in a month.
He offered me to learn his business, which I politely declined.
He bought me video games which I didn't really like.
He'd make me peanut butter sandwiches whenever I was around, even if I stopped liking to eat peanut butter sandwiches right after college.

And then he had a stroke. And then three more over the years. At first, he needed only a cane. Then a wheelchair. The last stroke rendered him bedridden, requiring the care of a nurse 24-hours-a-day and a weekly visit from a local priest to give him Penance, Holy Communion and Unction.

The Angel of Death has come to our ancestral house to finally claim my lone surviving grandparent.

At the age of 92, Lolo Daddy "Eulogio" slept peacefully for the last time.

The Value of PI

It all started when I came across this graffiti vandaled in a toilet cubicle:

"Beauty times brains equals constant."

However, I mentally debated that the measures of both beauty and brains are highly subjective. Hence, I concluded further that the value of beauty times brains must be an imaginary number.

What a geeky humor, haha.

It got me thinking, in a humorous manner, what else can I think of as 'constant'.

I've hypothesized that I need to prove that the "The Law of Conservation of Mass" applies to my department: The total mass of schedulers and planners equals a constant. A corollary of this, therefore, is that if any in our team is gaining weight for some reason, the other members of the team will lose the corresponding amount of weight.

As a side-theorem, I also concluded that the Total workstress in my workgroup is a constant. If one or more persons are stressed due to their workload, the other members enjoy a less stressful environment.

Other working theories in the pipeline:

1) The stammering rate at which a certain manager blurts out "but-but-but-but-but" is a constant.
2) The number of brains working effectively in the process engineering group at any given time is a constant. (A more prudent statement will be: "The overall efficiency of the process engineering group at any given time is a constant.")
3) The total opportunity to receive formal training in our organization is a constant (and close to zero).

Of course, all of these are debatable. Like the value of Pi has been under debate for the past 900 years.

+ Mark Franco

"The Lord is my Shepherd; I shall not want.
He makes me to lie down in green pastures.
He leads me beside still waters,
He restores my soul.
He leads me in the path of righteousness for His name's sake
Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,
I will fear no evil.
For You are with me.
Your rod and your staff comfort me."

Salamat Mark sa lahat. May your soul, our fallen comrade, rest in peace in the company of our Lord and His angels. For our friend and teammate, a warrior and a gentleman.

We will truly miss you.

- Team Mission Specific

Change of Season

1.

Summer has been announced to be officially over by our national weather bureau PAGASA last May 12th.

It was too short.

And the bad thing about it is the early onset of my change-of-season flu. And apparently, my flu shots last year are no good against the flu bug that bit me a couple of nights ago.

From sweating it out in the sun to having fever-chills in my bedroom last night:
had to trade my sunscreen and board shorts for anti-pyretic meds and bed comforters,
mango-banana shakes got replaced by warm fruit juice,
grilled foodfare gets substituted with chicken broth.
outdoor sports make way for some book reading.

All I'm wishing for now is just one more weekend of sun and sports, and I'll gladly accept afterwards that summer is indeed over. It makes having this flu more "acceptable".

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2.
People change just like the seasons.
I've seen a lot of changes in people over summer. Some for the good, some for the worse.

There's Always Something New to Do at BORA

I've been making annual trips to the country's sun-worshipping-place-to-be, also known as Boracay. My parents and some of my friends have been asking me if I don't get bored with visiting the place every year --- Bora doesn't change that much, they think, and thus going there at least once in your lifetime makes them qualified to say "been there, done that" whenever the topic of a Boracay vacation comes up.

Well, they're wrong.

I don't get bored at Bora. And the "been there, done that" routine does not apply to a Boracay vacationeer, specially if you're the creative and/or adventurous type.

Acting on a very compulsive manner, I decided to go to Boracay last week when Duane told me that he'll be there with 6 female colleagues from China, all single and available. Wait, wait, wait. I didn't plan my Boracay trip because of the "single and available" phrase. A Bora trip is definitely much more fun if you're going there with the prior knowledge that you'll be able to meet up with someone you know, and from there start getting to know who they know so that your social circle expands. A bigger social circle gives you more options on what to do at Boracay. Bai, on the other hand, decided to join this Bora trip because of the "single and available" phrase initially, hahaha. (Later on, Bai planned on taking kiteboarding lessons as his ultimate purpose for going on this trip).

Enough with the introductory storytelling.

For this Bora trip, I've planned on bringing my trusty EOS400D DSLR camera along for a pet project which I called the "Hundred Bora Girls Project". The mechanics are simple: take photos (either stolen or with permission granted) of at least 100 babes in the party island of Boracay.

So how did it turn out?

Well, I'll let some of the pictures do the talking.












We were fortunate to find out that on the dates that we were at Boracay, a summer event tagged as "X ON THE BEACH" was ongoing. Open competitions on extreme sports on the beach: wakeboarding, skimboarding, wall-climbing and ultimate frisbee. No registration fee! All we needed to do was just walk-in and register.

I registered for the speed-wall climbing competition while Bai registered for the wakeboarding competition. It's my first time to compete at speed-climbing (I've competed before on technical climbing, and they're totally different) and it was gonna be Bai's first time to compete in a wakeboarding event.

How it did turn out? Well, I didn't win the event (my time was 16.2 secs, while the 1st place finisher did it in 12 seconds flat!) and neither did Bai win in his event. BUT... I got an interview (and a good probability of being shown on a local TV show called "Sports Unlimited"). HAHAHAHAHA!

Ultimate frisbee anyone? It was my first time to watch an ultimate frisbee game done on the beach, and it turned out to be more exciting than the frisbee matches I see done at the San Lorenzo park or at the UP grounds.

Well, how about skimboarding? It really looked like an easy thing to do, but the ease with how the locals are able to do it is very deceiving. Skimboarding is H-A-R-D. First you need to lug a skimboard (and it's a bit heavy) on a running start. Next, you throw the board at the waterline such that it skims the water. Third, you chase after the board. Fourth, you jump on the board. Finally, you try to skim the water with the board. Hahaha... I injured my right big toe when I tried my skill at it, somewhere between steps 3 and 4. I had some minor successes on skimboarding, but there's very big room for improvement.

Of course, strolling the long stretch of Boracay's beaches will let you meet some interesting people. Old guys multi-tasking on the beach (go figure what I mean, haha), a multi-racial jamming session, very friendly locals (kids and manangs and everyone in-between their age brackets) and of course, the tourists!

Boracay's sunsets are great. There are so many ways to take a sunset shot of Boracay, and here's some of the good ones that we got.



Of course, we did the usual stuff: swim at the beach, get henna tattoos, meet girls, go drinking and get really drunk, shop, dine, talk with the locals... but if you're the fun, creative and adventurous type, there is always something new to do at Bora.

...like getting an outrageous hairstyle (which, by the way, rendered my boss speechless when I showed up at work with it).

Cluzzle (klah-zehl)

Last week, expatriate colleague JayW cooked dinner and invited a few friends over to dine with him in celebration of his XX'th birthday.

Dinner was... uhm... interesting...
...
..
.

Hahaha. Okay, okay. Dinner was excellent! Honest!

Anyway, the gang played a round of CLUZZLE as after-dinner entertainment. Newly-wed couple Glenn and Janice emerged as the winner at the end of the game.

Here's how the final clay sculptures turned out. Can you guess what each of the sculptures represent?

Yellow sculpture by GEL, Orange sculpture by JayW, Green sculpture by Kaye, Red sculpture by Stip, Blue sculpture by Glenn&Janice, Purple sculpture by Emer