I've been trying to post about the stuff that's been going on lately but I've had what's typically called as “writer's block”. However, “laziness” is more accurate. We just came from a massage and I think the heavy-handed lady knocked something loose because I genuinely feel like rambling as I usually do when the need to vent arises.
*Anyway, two weeks ago a driver plowed the (tough) front end of his jeepney right into our rear-end at the Imperial intersection in Antipolo. At the time we were canvassing for resorts within the vicinity to celebrate DIL and a cousin's birthday (they share the same date). Lucky for us the traffic enforcer stationed at the stoplight saw everything so it was pretty much an open-and-shut case. We went through the usual drill of filing a police report at the nearest precinct and pressed the guy to shoulder the cost of repairs since it was obviously his fault. It boiled down to him shelling out one-third of the total cost while I paid the rest under a written and signed agreement that he would settle the remaining balance by the end of May. NOT to my surprise, he's asking me to cut him a little slack when I called to remind him yesterday. I guess it's mean of me to pressure him to pay up but I was the one inconvenienced, not him. Realistically speaking, it's a financial loss I can absorb, but I was supposed to use that money to replace the upper arm suspension, and I was on my way to buy the parts on the same day of the accident no less.
*Going back to that massage we had, it definitely helped me clear my thoughts and loosen me up some. Right up to the time we walked in, I wasn't having a great day. Lyn and I were out driving under the sun during a typical summer day with the car's air conditioner out of order YET again. We were doing errands and part of our to-do list was my least favorite thing in the world which was to pay the phone bill at the local PLDT business office. Let me just sidetrack for a moment to say that this particular office has given me nothing but grief with their incompetent staff and useless supervisor. About half a year ago, I had made a direct request with these morons to increase my bandwidth from 1.6 to 2.2 Mbps since that was the advertised speed on their site that matches the rate I'm paying. It actually hit as high as 2.0 right before Milenyo passed- after that the speed's been screwed up ever since. So the ineffectual rep at the office had no idea what I was talking about but was quick to give me their boss' direct phone number which he NEVER picked up during the numerous attempts I made trying to reach him in vain.
*With that said, my asshole factor was exponentially increasing with each passing minute and the trip to the spa really did the trick. I had requested the hefty lady to spend just a little bit more time on my feet, and she complied a little too zealously. With my belly flat on the mat, she positioned each foot with my soles (obviously) facing upwards and proceeded to knead from heel to toe with her knuckles. The oil she applied made it painfully easy for her to grind my arches and soles which made me whimper just a bit, regretting I made the request at all. She explained that “madaming lamig sa paa nyo”. I never really understood the concept of “lamig” (which literally means “cold”) and unfortunately I don't know how to explain that in English (“your feet have cold spots”? WTF?). Is there even an equivalent term for that in western medicine? By the time she was done it felt like the blood vessels in my feet had burst but surprisingly felt better just a few minutes after. Whatever she did, the tension went away and I stepped out of their office with a clear mind. It was around 6:00 PM and the drive home was pleasant as the sun had just left and the full, round moon was hanging over the cloudy, orange-tinted sky . The city lights in the horizon were coming on one at time like they always do during that time of the day – it couldn't have been more picturesque and surreal even if I wanted to.
*I just read a review on Spider-Man III and am now irreversibly tainted with a preemptive bias when I eventually see it. Sort of like how reading the 300 comic book in advance was a basically a trip to spoilerland and ruined the movie for me.
*It's been said that our perpetual inner critic will keep us from being truly satisfied with our own work. I guess that's true when I think about the stuff I've (professionally) written and it leaves me wondering whether I had so many assignments a while back solely due to my sister or because they actually liked my work after she got my foot in the door. I suppose I have to give myself a least bit of credit and go with the latter because this is my space after all (pun intended, I have an attention-whorish account on that site). Now that sis has left the company, I'll have to make it on own steam should I choose to pursue that sideline. I've left messages with my contacts at the various magazines I've written for, asking if they need me for new features. Nothing yet so far.