When daddy looks at the sunset, he wonders if you see the same one as well. As the sun dips into the horizon, daddy thinks about you and asks himself if you're doing fine over there. He remembers the time when he raised his voice at you not because you were misbehaving, but because he was just tired and impatient. Daddy still remembers how you only flinched and didn't cry because you're a brave little boy. It was just like the time when you were sick at the hospital and didn't throw a fit as they pricked you with the IV needle. It's those memories that makes daddy recall all the times when he could have been more understanding.

And now daddy wishes he could kiss you goodnight but he can't because you're there and he's here. He misses you so much that he even dreamt that he was carrying you in his arms with your head resting on his shoulder. Daddy wishes that he could pick you up and tell you that he loves you but he can't because there are oceans and seas keeping him away from you. He doesn't open your pictures on his computer because they're too painful for him to look at. It reminds him how far away you are and can't be with him for now. But daddy's trying his best to be strong and not come undone from the pain of not being with you. Someday, he hopes you'll understand why he left you, and not hate him for doing so. Will you still remember daddy when he finally sees you again?

Worlds Apart

It hasn't totally sunk in that I'm actually here, in a foreign country that I've wanted to go to for the longest time. Being cooped up at work for 11 hours a day doesn't make me feel that I'm in Japan. All I know is that I'm just somewhere far away from Dan and won't get to see him until next year. Every day without him is another thorn in my chest. I hope they allow Dan to come over even for just a little while, or least let Lyn go home with the manager (for an export meeting tentatively scheduled next January or February). There are times at night when we come home from work and I look up to the sky, forgetting for a few moments that I'm all the way here. I look away and I suddenly remember that I'm far, far away from my little boy. The most difficult part of the day is in the morning because that's when I think about Dan the most. Is he happy, content, well-fed, safe and warm?

Now I know what it means to die a just a little more as each day passes by. Each day is another one spent without my child. Even before I left, I knew it would be difficult to be apart from Dan in order to further my career, and ultimately secure his future. But as it turns out, anticipating the storm and actually being in middle of its eye are two very different things. It pains me to think that I can't be there for him now. I hope he thanks me for doing this and not resent me instead. The only thing I can do now is make the most of my stay here so they make me manager or at least upgrade my training visa into a working one. Then I would earn more, which is the entire point of being here. Then it would be worth leaving Dan behind for so long. Otherwise, all the hurt I'm going through will have been for nothing.

I have no other option but to succeed.

I was planning to sit down and revise my earlier post about our stay here, but I can't muster enough brainpower to write any further. In the meantime, pics can be viewed here.

Dansu Wo Shiteiru

Nihon At Last

We finally made it after more than a year in the making. Looking back, the delay was just about right since it gave us time to prepare for our departure. Of course, the toughest part is leaving Dan behind. Hopefully we can negotiate for him to stay here with us, or at least come over for the holidays this December. We bought yahoo credit so we can call home from time to time and check on Dan.

What's happened so far:

9/19: Our original flight the day before was cancelled on account of a typhoon blowing through the Taipei region, so we had to come back. The NAIA staff was pretty strict with each passenger's checked in and handcarried luggage weight limit which is 20 kg and 7 kg respectively. Since we previously exceeded the checked in limit by 100%, a lot of rearranging was done but we still went a bit over the maximum amount. After we had DIL take a lot of stuff back home, we finally passed the first step but not without pissing me off. I calmed down by the time we took off for the first leg of our journey. We stopped over at the Taipei aiport for a few hours to take a connecting flight to Hiroshima. Touchdown in Japan was about 8:30 PM local time and we proceeded to have a bit of dinner with our new boss, staff member and a Filipino friend who arrived here a year before us. The place we're staying at is not bad at all, here are some videos:

part 1:



part 2:



part 3:



9/20:

This was a busy day. We drove over to the the main office (which was an hour from our place) for a short meeting with the sacho (president). For a man of his rank, he seemed like a very simple man who was down to earth and talked to us very politely. As best as I could decipher from our conversation, he wants to eventually help him with exporting stuff from home to here. From what I understood he'll arrange to upgrade our training Visas to working ones after a year. We could negotiate for Dan to stay with us by then, but then we also have to request for him to come over during the summer because it might not be feasible to do so by December. After all, I can't bear not to see him for a whole year. They've been pretty accomodating so far so I think there's a good chance for that to push through.

Sadly I don't have much pictures of the sights yet, but I have a year to go so there's plenty of time for that. After that, we headed over to city hall to get registered for an alien certificate and open a bank account. It was off to the grocery (called "supaa", or supermarket for short). The food here is expensive but the electronics is cheap.

Just Messin' Around

*courtesy of the bonus disc that came along with my Terminator 2 DVD (courtesy of my friend who shipped it all the way from Las Vegas):

Your flesh is a relic, a mere vessel. Hand over your flesh and a new world awaits you. We demand it.

*Get Your Cyborg Name

Has it been 4 years ago??

I took these with my old faithful Olympus which was brand new back then. My friend made a video with a soundtrack and here is the result:

Melancholic Emo Drama

If only I could use hindsight during an eye exam or when driving at night, but alas it only serves to remind me of all the times I could have been a better person to the people around me. If I could go back in time, would I really want to? Probably, if only to seize the opportunities when I could have done the right thing.

Updates, yo

My masters have been less than pleased with my recent slump in overall performance which comprises attendance and whatnot. It's been a while since I got chewed out that good. So much so that I'm anticipating a denied request for leave I had planned at the month's end. Oh well, what's an errant phone monkey to do right? To be fair though, I have been pulling 11 and 13 hour shifts over the past two weeks, and while I have been late often, I haven't been absent in over a month. But I know when I'm wrong. Hopefully, my masters will put greater weight on my good traits over my less than desirable ones and grant permission for leave.

The only thing that bums me out is that I was probably made trainer only once because of my said lackluster attendance records. A while back I was made to train a couple of agents who needed a bit of help but that seems to be more and more like a one-shot deal. And to think the boss personally talked to me about handing me this new task (well it was an online conversation but that's as personal as it gets as we're continents apart). I don't know if they just don't need to train anyone for now or they just got someone else who slacks off less than I do. While I had to give up the privilege of not physically commuting to work, I liked the feeling of breaking the monotony of my usual routine and actually relished in an added sense of responsibility.

Ah well, them's the breaks I suppose.

Moving on! Speaking as a member of the non-athletic subspecies of humanity, it's mighty easy to get into badminton. I'm talking about the casual, freestyle, just-for-shits-and-giggle kind and not the professional type of play. Lyn and I have enlisted our next door neighbor and BIL (who usually get together to drink more than anything else) to join us in our bi-weekly (or tri-weekly, God and my wallet permitting) sessions. It feels good to sweat out your stress and other hangups over a nice one or two hour game.

I don't know if the scale at the local grocery is broken or what, but I think the readings show a drop in my weight faster than what I was expecting. I had weighed myself before and after a month of playing, and the results took me by surprise. I'm going back to getting weighed soon but my parents did say I trimmed down a bit since my belly wasn't as obvious as before. All I can say is that marginal improvement is better than none. Who knows - if I keep at it, I'll lose enough to look like I did before enlisting for the sedentary life of a drone of the digital empire. Not that it was anything like rippling musculature back then, but I certainly felt better about how I looked before.

Oh, Kastigo's album launch last week went very well. Hopefully I can post videos and pictures here once decent videos surface and Dad emails his snapshots over. But that's all for now.

The Anti-Me's Vehicle of Choice

I only wish I had thought of this first :)



Cartoon by Dave Walker. Find more cartoons you can freely re-use on your blog at We Blog Cartoons.

The Simpsons Me




















If I ever become famous and they ask me to be a guest on the show, this would be my image and likeness in their universe.

The Anti-Me

* idea ripped off from a random forum

I am a successfully established man of substance who makes all the right decisions (read: DISKAAAARTE) and never gets flustered or confused. I know what exactly to say or do in any given situation, all my moves are slick as owlshit. I'm a badass that can hold his own against a fight and can take on anyone, anytime, and anywhere. I'm an asshole who doesn't give a shit that he is one and everyone else is too afraid to point it out. I like talking about basketball, politics and other manly things with my big shot friends who equal my machismo, preferably over 20 cases of beer. We like to gather around and talk about how much we rule and share other grand tales of testosterone.

Additionally, I am also an accomplished musician who excels in guitar and the drums. I belong in a kickass rock band whose songs offer a mix of thought-provoking lyrical content with a smattering of all-around heaviness. I am confident, sociable and outgoing - not to mention hip, young, and fresh. I am a specimen of physical prowess, my stamina is nigh inexhaustible and hardly break a sweat during the most rigorous of sport activities. My preferred look when leaving the house is sporting the biggest pair of aviator shades, a fauxhawk (because a mohawk would be too inconvenient), a shirt with a popped collar, and pre-torn, pseudo faded jeans.

Shows like Heroes and Firefly and The Office are too much for me to handle since it requires some thought to appreciate them so I'd rather watch other people's self-important, manufactured drama which is commonly referred to as reality shows. There's one show in particular that I can't enough of and most of its viewers know nothing about references it makes to the George Orwell book that its namesake is taken from. Nothing passes off for entertainment better than people lying around in a house doing the most inane things conceivable by man.

Thank goodness I don't have to stretch my neck over the neighbor's fence to hear them fight, all I have to is turn on the TV and I can actually see inside another person's house to endlessly scrutinize everything they do since I am the paragon of perfection. And don't forget the babes in the show, nothing like a little T & A to boost viewership eh? Not only are we rubberneckers, we're also voyeurs!

Most importantly, this post makes sense to everyone else but me. There are many other things that define who I am, but they escape me at the moment so this coherent organization of thoughts is far from finished.

Fantastic Four

All in all, F4 was a great popcorn flick since I watched it for the effects and the humor, not for depth or emotional attachment. It had great action sequences loaded with CGI, especially when the Torch did a Peter Petrelli and kicked Doom's butt. Of course he's ambigiously dead yet again, hopefully in store for the third movie (if there will be, but I have a strong feeling there will be).

Effects-wise, they did a pretty good job with Ben's rocky skin. It gave an appearance of a hard yet malleable texture which allowed subtle creases and folds to match the Thing's facial expressions. I was watching The Mask last night, and it just occured to me that Jim Carrey's stretchy legs during his dance number with Cameron Diaz were way more beliveable than Reed's arms during his respective performance. Are dance sequences a new prerequisite for superhero movies? Personally, it should be the opposite and should even be prohibited by international law because they only serve to make me cringe.

There were a few more things I didn't like, with Galactus being on top of the list. I'm the millionth guy to complain about him, but it's not because he was depicted as a giant, swirling cosmic cloud instead of a giant man in purple tights (as in the comics). Rather, it's one particular scene building up to his arrival where he casts a shadow over Saturn. Even casual readers of Marvel will be quick to point out that its shape is undoubetdly that of his (again, comic version) head. Why bother if they weren't going to actually show Galactus as he appeared in the comics? It felt like a slap in the face of the collective fanbase. Was it a cruel joke or were they basically saying "sorry fans, this is the best we could do since we didn't have the time and/or budget"? And what was the point of the Torch paying for airfare if he was gonna fly outside the damn plane (aside from pandering to the Chris Evans fans)?

Wasn't it pretty obvious to the US military that Doom wasn't just going to observe the Silver's Surfer's board? Geez, they were going to accompany him "under armed guard" and didn't see a betrayal coming? Whatever. And what was up with Jessica Alba's orange skin? Her natural tone was fine, were they trying too much to make her look caucasian?

The funniest bits throughout were the scenes with the Thing and the Torch. Being that Johnny's vain, it was pretty hilarious seeing him temporarily switch powers with Ben, rocky but with hair. I also laughed when Ben scared the bear away and told him off after it left. Chris Evans still has the best lines, this time laced with some innuendo (Torch asking Thing about his girlfriend: "So, uh, how do u guys, uh you know..."). The acting between Reed and Sue felt pretty wooden though. What were supposed to be meaningful emotions shared between the couple kinda fell flat.

Otherwise, F4 was really entertaining as a whole and I got what I paid for.

Fancy me getting sick just a bit after my goddamn health card ran out. I'm sure I'll able to cough up the 2 grand that I don't fucking have for a doctor and medication.

That is all.

Omens?

I first dreamt that I was taking Dan out of the hospital and needed money, so I picked up Jamir and we drove somewhere. We pulled over because he thought he knew the owner of a nearby parked car. He got down and I followed him after I parked the car. Upon entering the house, it was my mom and sister inside asking me to watch TV. Then I found myself in another dream.

My dad decided to come home and live with my mom again. She was already in the bedroom with him and they were unpacking. But they were in this house (the in-laws), and not our home in Paranaque. My dad said he was going to give me some money which was hidden inside an alarm clock. After that I dreamt I had Peter Petrelli's abilities and was being chased by someone whom I assume was Sylar. I was passing through walls and stopping time to avoid Him. My powers stopped working suddenly right after I teleported somewhere far away. Then I ended up in our home in Paranaque, trying to convince our pediatrician of the things I could do when time suddenly stopped by itself and everything went dark. Feeling scared, I walked across the room alone and tried to turn on the bathroom light to see myself in the mirror. It didn't switch on but I knew it was my reflection.

Finally, I went into the other room and saw my parents tied up in bed. I freed the gag from my Dad's mouth. Lyn and Dan was lying in the next bed. I removed the hankerchief from Lyn's mouth and she said, "si Dan unahin mo, malapit na syang mamatay". So I untied Dan and he smiled wickedly at me, occuring to me then that it was Sylar only pretending. I said "gotcha" and threw him away before he shapeshifted. The sound of the alarm went off in my dream, reminding me that it wasn't real. I was mostly relieved but felt a bit cheated too because the confrontation with my antagonist didn't happen.

It's really useless to explain why Borat sucks (and is just as annoying as Cohen's other character Ali G) because talking about it generates more publicity. Instead, here's a bit of great news I watched today:

Borat gets punched in the face. Repeatedly.

It would be great to see him act like an annoying little twat in the most depressed ghettos of America. Let's see him piss off the gangbangers on the streets, I would pay to see his obnoxious ass get shot. He could make like Bruce Willis in Die Hard 3 and wear a "I hate niggers" sign while walking down the streets of Harlem. Now that's the kind of offensive comedy I would call brilliant. I get the whole social-commentary-slash-getting-bigots-and-chauvinists-to-expose-their-flawed-arguments bit, but I didn't see any of that when he was breaking shit in that eldery couple's shop (and offering a pubic hair as payment) nor when he was purposely being an ignorant and obnoxious asshole on that news show. It felt like he was just after a cheap laugh. The guys from Jackass harass people and it's funny becuase they don't make any pretentions of anything beyond a cheap laugh.

Long Overdue

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.

One shouldn't feel compelled to write a blog post, but here goes anyway. So the Japan plan has been moved back even further. At this point, I wonder if we're even going at all. Word from the grapevine is that the Japs have decided that we are the last Filipinos they're gonna send over and stick to their prevous Chinese workforce instead. I suppose all the hoops from the red tape has worn their patience thin.

Had a few drinks with the Palmera boys last night. We started around 6PM and as usual I left the earliest which was around 9:30; God knows what time they packed up. It was fun pinballing from various topics ranging from horse racing to politics to spiderman etc etc. We got bills up the wazoo and have just enough to cover them. And by "enough" I mean gone in a blink of an eye. Well I suppose we'll still be able to catch Spidey 3 this week. Unless we have tickets reserved, I'm sure as hell aint gonna battle it out with the crowds on opening day.

Tech Lust

I've had my eye on the Gameboy Micro and Gameboy Advance SP for some time now. I'm feeling conflicted over which one I should get. Advance SP has a bigger screen and a clamshell design (added screen protection) but needs an extra accessory to use standard headphones with it. On the other hand, Micro boasts a sleeker design, looking like a modern version of the beloved Game and Watch. It has a smaller (but reportedly sharper) screen of 51 mm (or 2 inches) compared to 74 mm (or 2.9 inches) for the GBA. It's basically a clash of form over function.

Of course Micro is prettier, but is the smaller screen and lack of screen protection (clamshell design) worth it? It does have a built in slot for standard headphones, but I'm wondering if it will be easier playing games on it. I've read about minor gripes about the mushier feel the control pad and the other buttons buttons have during gameplay. There are a couple of negligible things about Micro that don't bother me, namely that it can't play old Gameboy and Gameboy color games and that it's pricier by about 200Php. I guess the only way to decide which is best is by trying out both versions at the store.