Okay, anyone, i need your help. I find my blog too, boring -- no that's too cruel word to describe my own blog-- umm... plain. Will someone please teach me how to post pix? 
I couldn't even do the marquee thingy!
I really wouldn't bill myself Techie Idiot for nuthin. 
I had a pretty fab weekend, except for the fact where i missed my guy so much.
I spent almost half a day getting pampered at the spa -- had an uncomfy, but nevertheless refreshing salt scrub (I swear they scrubbed even the most hidden part of my extensor hallucis longus [what that is, don't ask me either 
]), a very ticklish foot spa, and an awesome shiatsu. The greatest part is that all of these were given to me for free, i was going to write an article about their place, so they let me experience their services for a more indepth review. *wink* 
Then I had dinner with ex_groupie last saturday in Malate. It was such a wonder how different the culture is in that place as compared to other posh night spots in the city. You see when i head either to Quezon City or Makati, it seems I always have to watch out what i wear and how i act, in Malate, it's a no-holds-barred baring of the soul. People won't care if you're a guy wearing a dress, a girl sporting side-burns, or a five-year old kid traversing the streets way past your bedtime. In Malate, you are what you are.
We visited one of the folk bars in the area -- My Brother's Mustache, and I got to listen to one female performer who looked no older than 16. And boy could she sing. She introduced herself with this soft squeaky voice that almost no one could hear, she called herself Billie. Anyway, people were just minding their own business until she started strumming her guitar -- and then she casted her spells.
She was singing, yes, but she was also chanting, lulling everyone at the bar to shut-up and listen to her songs. She had the voice of an angel dressed in drab. I'm not really into folk songs, i'm more of a reggae person. I love how the reggae beat seem to grab my hips and make me sway in time with the music and make me think of making love under the Jamaican sun. But listening to her music made me think of childhood while growing-up in the country (and i was raised in the city for crying out loud!) or love in its most intense. Her music was alive, and i found myself stomping in time to her tunes. She was literally, for the night, THE music. I approached her afterwards and asked if she sings professionally and she answered,"no, i do it solely for the love of music." It sounds pretty corny now, but then, it was the most sincere answer i've heard.
Anyway, she may not size-up to Cynthia Alexander, but hey, music is for everyone. And when Billie sings, i know she could definitely stand her own.
My sweetie's back by the way. Oh happy times are here at last. 
I miss my sweetie.
He's been away for almost a week now since he needs to rest his knee because of ligament tear, and I can't visit him 'coz he's ten hours away from me to be exact. We still get in touch though, thanks to the wonders of modern communication. Still, it's just not the same. Sadness
His absence is making me restless. I keep trying to do things just to keep my mind from missing him. One time, around 2am, i woke-up and i missed him sooo much i just had to clean the living room -- sweep, mop, polish and all. At 2 in the gadamn morning. I think i gave my dad a fright when he woke-up to the smell of Starwax instead of coffee.
Also, i'm reading three books at a time -- Umberto Eco's THe Island of the Day Before, Julie Garwood's Castles, and Bob Ong's Ang Paboritong Libro ni Hudas (The Devil's Favorite Book), all to keep my mind off him, which of course, is like everytime. Still, i'm glad i actually have time for reading now. And blogging of course. Yey, go me.
Today, i actually bought two pension plans from two different companies. I couldn't say no to the two who offered since one is the mom of my close friend, while the other is a close chum of my dad. I'll actually be a millionaire when i'm 55! Imagine that!
But it got me thinking, for some nagging reason, insurance, doesn't make me feel too sure. Of what, i don't know. I just hope i'm investing in something pretty stable. I'm blowing off 40 thousand a year for this. My dad said i'm actually doing something very mature for once. Now what does he mean by that? Hmmmm...
I miss you sweetie. You come back to me now.
Amin Minale
Okay. Please don't laugh at my attempt to be, ummm... literary, or something like that. But i found an old notebook and i was surprised to see i actually made some... ummm... stuff. anyway, i know my work ain't really that good, but it just hit me that i'd rather share these words than to let it dust with age. So there. Please be gentle with this wannabe...
I seem to remain
Oblivious to the fact,
That the sun bares down
It’s nasty hands
And burns my face,
And blinds my eyes.
For I continue to wait,
For any sign of the rain,
To quench the desire
Of a long thirsty soul.
I gaze the cloudless sky,
The color of the deepest sea,
The impossibility of any
Downpour, so immense,
That it rivaled the vastness
Of the canopy beyond.
And yet I remain to expect,
Now with beads of sweat
Adorning the crown of my face,
To feel the slightest
moisture of the rain.
Eternity as though I stood
That way,
And as I was about
To leave,
With a beaten spirit,
And heart prepared
To condemn,
You graze your cool
Lips upon my nape,
And whispered the
Breeze of a promised advent.
My salvation has arrived,
A monsoon shower –
All in the heat
Of a raging sun.
Hey! I never thought, my blog would be visited more than a thousand times.
I'm happy.
I saw the Bachelorette series the other night and the show either disgusted me or insulted me, I can’t really tell – I was too busy trying to find, in my cable-deprived TV, a program that didn’t have Chinese boy-band wannabes in it. There were none. So I tried to watch the early news – election mayhem, terrorist attacks, showbiz scandals… snore…
So it was back to the bachelorette for me. The thing is, coming-up with the idea of holding a glammed-up dating game was pure genius – people love reality shows, and there’s nothing better to peak viewers attention than a back-stabbing, vanity-driven, sexually-charged mission to find the perfect mate. I can almost hear the frequent ka-ching of network sales. And the ratio of one girl to eighty men, just made the show even more interesting. But watching the girl horse around from one guy to the next, I just can’t help but think (and believe me, I’m not one who judges character that fast) she could be billed no better than a glorified slut. And on national television plus prime time at that.
I can’t really say I feel sorry for her looking all cheap and all, ‘coz I don’t think she’s actually sorry herself, getting that attention from all the gorgeous men she could actually handle. But my big question is, "Are they all for real?!" I mean, maybe it could actually be scripted or something, but what if it’s not? There’s just something so fake in trying to ‘be yourself’ when you know very well that millions of viewers from all over the globe are watching your ass. I mean, that’s the whole point of it right? You try to hide your flaws to get someone you actually perceive is perfect, and that’s when you actually know that it’s the same girl who actually joined the same show before, but this time she’s the searcher instead of the searchee. As for the girl, well, you’ve been there before, haven’t you had enough? Enough of the fakiness already. They’re living a dream and I dread to think of the time when they actually have to wake-up and realize their perfect date is just the same old loser they could have met at a dingy pub.
So why am I so worked-up when it comes to this program? Well people who know me – the geekgod, ex_groupie, bitterpaulie – they all know just what a totally helpless romantic fool I am. And seeing love reduced to mere competition was more than enough to rage this fool’s heart (heart palpitating to raging beats).
Love is a gift, not entertainment. It’s supposed to take its time, and not just choose who you’re supposed to be with by the end of the show. You’re supposed to cherish a person and accept who he really is, not dump them on the first sign of stain. They could be happy now, but what about tomorrow? Their affection is based on the bliss of it all. But real love is not just about bliss – it’s about trials, uncertainties, and the desire to overcome it all because you know in the end, despite the odds, it’s still that person you want to end-up with.
Gee, I can’t believe I got so carried-away by all that love thingy. Anyway, my point is, if you can’t find a sensible show to watch on TV, it’s best that you read a good book instead.
Oh, that and the fact that you can’t say it’s true love just because a guy is a great kisser.
I've been sick for four days this past week and i just want to say i don't want to go through that again. I was in the hospital but thankfully i stayed there for one whole day only, then they said i was okay to go home and just rest there. I couldn't eat properly, everytime i put something in my mouth, i immediately throw up. The taste was awful! It was like bile and dirty politicians combined! Urgh! And the doctor prescribed me meds which are ridiculously costly. I blew off the money i was saving to buy myself a new set of wardrobe. That was definitely the worst part.
Anyway, that's over and i'm just glad. I spent my bed rest finishing Tolkien's Return of the King. It was just pure headache reading it at first because Tolkien decided to be an ass and give each character two to three names at least. It took awhile before i realized Mithrandir was actually Gandalf (I haven't read the first two books you see, i jumped on to the third after watching the movies). Anyway, there were just so many names, i don't recognize some of the words... it was pure torture! And i damn well love it! I just couldn't keep my eyes off the pages. It was a strain, yes, but it was also alive. The greatest writers make you forget you're actually reading.
Well when i got better, i did the first thing which made sense to me -- watch Return of the King the movie. No, not in some posh Makati movie house, and no, it's not free. But i don't care. You're right Geekgod, it's one of the best films ever. But after reading the book, the excitement of the scenes sort of lowered down a bit. But just a bit. Jackson portrayed Tolkien's masterpiece beautifully. Still, i couldn't help talking throughout the film to my sister to explain to her why the scenes are so. I just had to give her the details i found out in the book. I was like...
"Hey, do you know that lembas bread ain't just for physical strength?"
my sis: No
me: Hey, do you know where Saruman is now? I could tell you
my sis: No. no.
me: hey, do you know...
my sis: Sssshhh! Shut up!
me: Hey, do you...
the people near me watching the film: SSSSSSHHHHHH!
Yup, i became one of those annoying viewers who just can't hold their tongue during a very good movie. I was like those who eat chicharon (very crunchy pig skin crackers) during a suspense flick, and people who already saw for the nth time and still insists on watching it again and tells what's gonna happen next ("ayan na, ayan na yung kalaban, sasaksakin na siya!").
But damn i loved that flick. And Legolas was as usual, yummy. I could buy a bootleg copy right now just so i could watch Orlando bloom's face over and over again.
But no, that's not why i love the movie. Really.
by TechieIdiot | categoria: |