It's like banging your head against a wooden pole. Slapping (I hate "facepalm" so much!) your cheeks till your palms turn red. Write or die. That's my story. You can call me crazy, and no it's not maybe. This writing thing has my number. And keeps on ringing it. Ringining and ringining. Tingining life 'to.
Vanity. That's the root of it. With hunched shoulders, right slightly higher than left, telling the world I can do lots of other things. Numbers? Yes! I can do numbers. I can crunch and pivot and OLAP the life out of data. Code? Yes! I won't write it because I go catatonic when I attempt to, but I sure know how other people do and I can make their code crash any time I want to. Enterprise Architecture? Waddahek. Give me all your org stuff and I'll TOGAF and Archimate your org knots until they're all laid out in neat straight lines.
And also because I'm such a pok-pok. There isn't anything I won't do if I'm paid well enough to do it.
Except, I've noticed that lately all that people want to pay me for is write!
So I'm back. But this time, I'm backer! Because now, this thing I'm writing for isn't pure pokpokan. There's also pukpukan! Real honest to goodness investigative data-driven journalism which they now call content marketing. Which is really just another marketing ploy meant to impress old people who actually understand new media except new people would rather they don't.
And I'm loving it this time. So I'll probably revive this blog which I hope no one reads because it might be self-incriminating. I might again be accused of Sottoporting, which meant the accusers didn't read what I wrote. Over the last year I found out that content curation and blogging are conjoined at the butt. I need to blog again.
Thursday, October 18, 2012
Friday, November 11, 2011
Full circle
I've been avoiding writing as a means of livelihood all the time, for the longest time. I thought tech was the solution. Wrong.
Tech types (most of them) haaate any form of formal documentation. Formal here meaning grammar and composition and all that. They have no problem writing scripts and code. So I eventually always end up doing the writing part. Or maybe I need to be kept away from email. They also hate reading more than one paragraph of more than three sentences of more than four to five words each. I write chapters. For someone who declares he doesn't want to make a living out of writing...
I need to stop this warla with words. Or maybe It's just English I'm quarreling with. Will try to write in Cebuano and Tagalog. I need to reclaim my ability to think in these languages. In mid-paragraph I hear myself blabberring away but I feel disconnected with the words coming out of my mouth because of the extra layer of translation going on.
Try nga natin....
Ambot unsa'y akong nahuna-hunaan. Sa wa'y hinungdan wa mapugngi ang kahidlaw sa kanhing kinaham nga lauya. Ang kalainan, lahi ang lauyang nagduwa-duwa sa akong alimpatakan. Nganong bukog-bukog man. Di diay mahimo ang pata?... Pata? what's Cebuano for pata? Is it pigi?
Try nga again...
Sa di mawaring dahilan 'di ko mapigilang mag-crave... Mag-crave talaga? Ay leche.... next time na nga lang...!
Saturday, June 4, 2011
Missed
Missed this blog and thought it was lost forever. Funny how passwords remain buried in the subconscious and reveal themselves when they're least expected to. I think we should do away with passwords altogether and instead require all gadgets to have retina scan as the default authentication method. Or maybe saliva analysis, You shout Open Sesame ten times or until you froth in the mouth enough for saliva to spew onto the screen where it sizzles while the acid therein is analyzed by the touch screen, Or something else. Whatever. Anything that doesn't require me to memorize something. Leche!
Friday, February 5, 2010
25 Things About Me
One of my earlier FB accounts was hacked so I forgot all about it until just minutes ago when while checking my email, a message from FB popped saying I was requesting to change my password. Ah ganun ba? Heheheee... So now I have the account back.
Heniwey, while backreading I found this! Written 12 months ago, still rings true.
25 Things About Me.
1. I am not a grumpy person. I may look like one but I'm not. Not always. There are days when I don't grump at all. They may be few and far in between but.. Oh okay, I'm grumpy.
2. I love eating out. I like trying new places (to me, even if they've been around for decades). The motive being that I will attempt to cook at home whatever it is that captures my fancy. In twenty years of trying, I have never been successful. I always end up making my own version which is not quite like what I ate when I ate out. But I can always rely on my pancit bihon and lechon kawale to draw rave reviews.
3. My lechon kawale is triple cooked. Boiled, baked and fried. I only cook lechon kawale for people deserving of such a labor of love. More labor than love really. Ang hirap eh. Portugal. It has to be frozen overnight after boiling.
4. I like four-wheeled motor vehicles. But I have never seriously contemplated buying one, or inheriting a dilapidated one from my relatives. I love life. Mine and other people's. Sometimes, I want to go forward but then I realize my destination rapidly shrinks as I accelerate. It's that bad.
5. I am a magnet for life-threatening freak accidents, the last one being when I covered for XXXXX XXX and the bus I was riding post-shift slammed into a wall in SLEX.
6. I'll go back to school in June. Sublime Karma. (P.S. Karma nga. Those were months of pure hell)
7. In school we lined up according to height. In Grade 3 I was first in line, in Grade 4 I was last. Something happened that summer in between.
8. In Grade 3 I was suspended for scrubbing a classmate's face on loose gravel. In Grade 4 I was suspended for saying "You're lying" to the teacher at the top of my voice. The other suspensions are now a distant blur.
9. If I made too much noise in class the teachers would lock me up in the library instead of making me stand in the corner where I'd still be making lots of noise. Everyday I would try to make as much noise as I could. I loved the library so so much.
10. Between the ages of 8-16, I slept in other people's houses more than I did in my own. My house was just a stone's throw away from school. I'd do that even during weekdays, but still managed to never be absent. My parents simply gave up looking for me. When I was about 10yo, they had the radio announcer broadcast this message... "umuwi ka na... hindi ka daw papaluin..."
11. In college I frequently survived on kamatis and itlog na maalat for weeks on end, because I had blown a whole month's allowance away on Skiva Ruki,and Britannia, Sassoon, and Jordache etc... in Cartimar.
12. Sen. Francis Pangilinan was my team mate in the UP Men's Volleyball Team at the same time that Sen. Pia Cayetano was playing for the women's team. I studied in Los Banos but played for and practiced in Diliman. But played for and practiced in Los Banos also... at the same time. MWF and TTh held a different meaning for me. Oh... and I hit Kristy Ramos on the face with a volleyball but I'm still alive... that's why I campaigned for Fidel Ramos.
13. I hated iPods until I was given one (sort of). Now i obsess about in-ear headphones all the time. I have a Bose Tri-Port but I'd also like to have Klipsch's Image X5, Denon's C551, and a token Shure headset that's out of production therefore on sale (masabi lang...).
14. I love kakiage. Tried making this at home and ended up with something resembling OKOY. I love tempura. I tried making this at home and was successful only with kamote and talong. I can never quite get shrimp right. But they're expensive so why bother.
15. I watched all episodes of "So You Think You Can Dance -- Canada" over the holidays, on YouTube. Which prompted me to load up on all of Rick Astley's songs, because they're the last ones I remember dancing to. "And don't you know I would move heaven and earth to be together forever with youuuu"
16. I used to join amateur singing contests as a kid. Kinda like Regine Velasquez and Nora Aunor. Sometimes lost but mostly won... singing "Beeeen the two of us need look no moooore"
17. My first taste of glory was when I won the Southern Mindanao Regional Science Quiz (for Biology). I always thought I'd be a scientist someday. That was before I discovered sports. I like the smell of sweat on my jersey better than HCl on my lab gown.
20. I memorized the spelling of the longest word in the English dictionary because I might finally get to join a game show. Pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis. Hala. I think mali 'cos there's a squiggly red line running under it.
21. My dream career was to be a cook. Not a chef, but a cook. I'd open up my own carinderia and be famous for bila-bilaong pancit, ginataang labong, lechon kawale, and steaming hot bulalo.
22. I grew up in a town in the middle of a tree plantation surrounded by tropical forest. In a province that's mostly coastline facing the Pacific. It's hard for me to relate with the excitement over Boracay and Palawan.
23. I worked in the Middle East for some time, and discovered Indian food there. I can eat curry and chapati everyday for the rest of my life and I wouldn't be any less happier than if I ate rice. But smellier? Definitely.
24. I trained in Japan for three weeks but don't remember anything about "Digitization of Public Information" because I was too busy window shopping and eating.
25. I will buy a mountain bike this year. (P.S. Hindi nangyari, wish lang talaga pero malabo)
Heniwey, while backreading I found this! Written 12 months ago, still rings true.
25 Things About Me.
1. I am not a grumpy person. I may look like one but I'm not. Not always. There are days when I don't grump at all. They may be few and far in between but.. Oh okay, I'm grumpy.
2. I love eating out. I like trying new places (to me, even if they've been around for decades). The motive being that I will attempt to cook at home whatever it is that captures my fancy. In twenty years of trying, I have never been successful. I always end up making my own version which is not quite like what I ate when I ate out. But I can always rely on my pancit bihon and lechon kawale to draw rave reviews.
3. My lechon kawale is triple cooked. Boiled, baked and fried. I only cook lechon kawale for people deserving of such a labor of love. More labor than love really. Ang hirap eh. Portugal. It has to be frozen overnight after boiling.
4. I like four-wheeled motor vehicles. But I have never seriously contemplated buying one, or inheriting a dilapidated one from my relatives. I love life. Mine and other people's. Sometimes, I want to go forward but then I realize my destination rapidly shrinks as I accelerate. It's that bad.
5. I am a magnet for life-threatening freak accidents, the last one being when I covered for XXXXX XXX and the bus I was riding post-shift slammed into a wall in SLEX.
6. I'll go back to school in June. Sublime Karma. (P.S. Karma nga. Those were months of pure hell)
7. In school we lined up according to height. In Grade 3 I was first in line, in Grade 4 I was last. Something happened that summer in between.
8. In Grade 3 I was suspended for scrubbing a classmate's face on loose gravel. In Grade 4 I was suspended for saying "You're lying" to the teacher at the top of my voice. The other suspensions are now a distant blur.
9. If I made too much noise in class the teachers would lock me up in the library instead of making me stand in the corner where I'd still be making lots of noise. Everyday I would try to make as much noise as I could. I loved the library so so much.
10. Between the ages of 8-16, I slept in other people's houses more than I did in my own. My house was just a stone's throw away from school. I'd do that even during weekdays, but still managed to never be absent. My parents simply gave up looking for me. When I was about 10yo, they had the radio announcer broadcast this message... "umuwi ka na... hindi ka daw papaluin..."
11. In college I frequently survived on kamatis and itlog na maalat for weeks on end, because I had blown a whole month's allowance away on Skiva Ruki,and Britannia, Sassoon, and Jordache etc... in Cartimar.
12. Sen. Francis Pangilinan was my team mate in the UP Men's Volleyball Team at the same time that Sen. Pia Cayetano was playing for the women's team. I studied in Los Banos but played for and practiced in Diliman. But played for and practiced in Los Banos also... at the same time. MWF and TTh held a different meaning for me. Oh... and I hit Kristy Ramos on the face with a volleyball but I'm still alive... that's why I campaigned for Fidel Ramos.
13. I hated iPods until I was given one (sort of). Now i obsess about in-ear headphones all the time. I have a Bose Tri-Port but I'd also like to have Klipsch's Image X5, Denon's C551, and a token Shure headset that's out of production therefore on sale (masabi lang...).
14. I love kakiage. Tried making this at home and ended up with something resembling OKOY. I love tempura. I tried making this at home and was successful only with kamote and talong. I can never quite get shrimp right. But they're expensive so why bother.
15. I watched all episodes of "So You Think You Can Dance -- Canada" over the holidays, on YouTube. Which prompted me to load up on all of Rick Astley's songs, because they're the last ones I remember dancing to. "And don't you know I would move heaven and earth to be together forever with youuuu"
16. I used to join amateur singing contests as a kid. Kinda like Regine Velasquez and Nora Aunor. Sometimes lost but mostly won... singing "Beeeen the two of us need look no moooore"
17. My first taste of glory was when I won the Southern Mindanao Regional Science Quiz (for Biology). I always thought I'd be a scientist someday. That was before I discovered sports. I like the smell of sweat on my jersey better than HCl on my lab gown.
20. I memorized the spelling of the longest word in the English dictionary because I might finally get to join a game show. Pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis. Hala. I think mali 'cos there's a squiggly red line running under it.
21. My dream career was to be a cook. Not a chef, but a cook. I'd open up my own carinderia and be famous for bila-bilaong pancit, ginataang labong, lechon kawale, and steaming hot bulalo.
22. I grew up in a town in the middle of a tree plantation surrounded by tropical forest. In a province that's mostly coastline facing the Pacific. It's hard for me to relate with the excitement over Boracay and Palawan.
23. I worked in the Middle East for some time, and discovered Indian food there. I can eat curry and chapati everyday for the rest of my life and I wouldn't be any less happier than if I ate rice. But smellier? Definitely.
24. I trained in Japan for three weeks but don't remember anything about "Digitization of Public Information" because I was too busy window shopping and eating.
25. I will buy a mountain bike this year. (P.S. Hindi nangyari, wish lang talaga pero malabo)
Sunday, January 17, 2010
The Perfect Excuse
I needed an excuse to start blogging again, something that ignites my stove and gets the soup bubbling. I was hovering in and out, in and out until I realized it's a week away from the Australian Open. I don't have Sky which has Balls TV which has cornered aaalll the grand slams except the Australian Open, which is aired on Star Sports which my cable Tv provider carries.
I was planning to crusade with McVie for Solar Sports to improve programming by getting the slams but he flatly told me he's with marketing, not programming. But won't turn the soup cold because the Aussie Open will be enough fuel. Until the French of course. Kase naman.
For good measure I'll also blog about the one sport I know how to play really well. Okay, knew. It's been twenty years since my high-flying UAAP days when I left skin on the floor for my alma mater and I haven't been following UAAP volleyball action for the longest time until last year when U.P. almost made it, but now I'm excited.
I wont blog about work. I won't blog about school. I won't blog about love and libido. I discovered that these topics were the cause of this blog's near demise.
I will blog about food -- my food, restaurant food, restaurants, but not Restaurant City on Facebook.
I will blog about movies and TV (what little of them I manage to force myself to watch).
I will blog about books.
I will blog about clothes, other people's clothes.
I will blog.
Repeat after me, me.
I... will.... blog.
I was planning to crusade with McVie for Solar Sports to improve programming by getting the slams but he flatly told me he's with marketing, not programming. But won't turn the soup cold because the Aussie Open will be enough fuel. Until the French of course. Kase naman.
For good measure I'll also blog about the one sport I know how to play really well. Okay, knew. It's been twenty years since my high-flying UAAP days when I left skin on the floor for my alma mater and I haven't been following UAAP volleyball action for the longest time until last year when U.P. almost made it, but now I'm excited.
I wont blog about work. I won't blog about school. I won't blog about love and libido. I discovered that these topics were the cause of this blog's near demise.
I will blog about food -- my food, restaurant food, restaurants, but not Restaurant City on Facebook.
I will blog about movies and TV (what little of them I manage to force myself to watch).
I will blog about books.
I will blog about clothes, other people's clothes.
I will blog.
Repeat after me, me.
I... will.... blog.
Monday, December 21, 2009
The Unbearable Heaviness of Upward Mobility
It all started with knees.
One fine day, I joined the fire drill in RCBC Plaza. This drill involved walking all the way down to the ground level from the 20-something floor where our office is.
All the people half my age could hardly stand up, knees shaking, when we got to the bottom. I, on the other hand, carless for the greater part of of my adult life and walking daily from Pasay Road to Ayala/Buendia in less than 20 minutes without sunblock or shame fared better than all of them. No hint of jellyness, except for the niggling pain of sports injuries resurrected by vigorous exertion.
So the plan was set. When it's time to buy my own pad I'll go for a walkup one. One without elevators so I won't have an option to cheat.
And I found one! And I bought it, sort of. Paid a lump sum as equity so that my PAGIBIG loan for the balance will fall into the correct interest rate bracket. Happy happy me? Well, yes, until the itch to stitch bit.
I started imagining partitions and cabinets and range hoods and tiles. Tiles! They had to be 60cm x 60cm diagonally set because conventional interior decor wisdom has it that this makes a small place look a lot bigger.
Budget here, budget there. Kasya! I would only need roughly 90 pieces for the whole place. Plus consumables like grout and tile bonding agent of around 20 bags weighing 25 kilos per bag.
Choosing which tile design best reflected my personality was pure joy. I was willing to pay for top of the line Spanish tiles which were selling at 50% off. Heaven. Of course my common sense kicked in right away and I was soon down to two choices. Wood or leather. I was so amazed that ceramic tiles could actually look so close. Leather won. Ramos Cuero. I carefully chose the grout color to match. Paid for everything. Arranged for delivery. I was drooling. I just needed those tiles to be set and I could do anything with the place! Frosted glass on partitions and doors, cabinets of a lighter tone, etc etc.
Two days later, my tiles came crashing down on the dream. Not literally. To my horror, I soon found out (stupid me I didn't do due diligence) that most construction stuff suppliers, appliance dealers, and all other stores that need sweaty muscular young men to deliver stuff DO NOT deliver beyond ground level. And my condo-condohan has this policy of kanya-kanyang bitbit. Even if they were contracted to install my tiles, I had to find a way to haul everything up. Eeeek! 90 super heavy tiles. I could hardly even budge a pack of four, let alone lift it. 20 bags weighing 25 kilos each of tile bonding adhesive! What did I get myself into?
I mean, I wanted daily exercise so I chose the topmost fifth floor unit of that walk-up mid-priced condo in the suburban south. Honest. But not naman that I would consume the daily calorie quota intended for a year in one day only. Wag naman. I'm not a Darna person, and will never be even if I swallow stones and sand and gravel.
And since aminado naman talaga ako that I can't do a Darna with those tiles, I did a Valentina na lang. I used the potent combination of fear and charm to get the supplier to haul everything up. "I will return everything! You pay me back!" And then of course I ambushed the delivery boys and flirted with them. [According to reliable sources boys I flirt with actually have sleepless nights for several weeks, scary kase the way I stare like I'll eat them alive or something tapos di ko naman pala itutuloy eh namutla na nga sila sa pinaghalong libog at kaba, 'chos]. Plus, of course, I paid them handsomely. Mas correct, I paid the handsome one. Meaning, sa kanya ko inabot yung pasasalamat.
So there, problem solved. For now.
I dread the day when I have to do this all over again for the ref, the aircon, etc. etc. It's not easy dealing with toned sweaty young men who use their muscles to earn an honest buck. There's always the temptation to corrupt the honesty.
But like everything, these too shall come to pass and either of two things will happen. Everything that needs to be moved up will be moved up and I will need to spend extra for labor, or everything that needs to be moved up will be moved up and I will spend extra for the laborer. :=)
One fine day, I joined the fire drill in RCBC Plaza. This drill involved walking all the way down to the ground level from the 20-something floor where our office is.
All the people half my age could hardly stand up, knees shaking, when we got to the bottom. I, on the other hand, carless for the greater part of of my adult life and walking daily from Pasay Road to Ayala/Buendia in less than 20 minutes without sunblock or shame fared better than all of them. No hint of jellyness, except for the niggling pain of sports injuries resurrected by vigorous exertion.
So the plan was set. When it's time to buy my own pad I'll go for a walkup one. One without elevators so I won't have an option to cheat.
And I found one! And I bought it, sort of. Paid a lump sum as equity so that my PAGIBIG loan for the balance will fall into the correct interest rate bracket. Happy happy me? Well, yes, until the itch to stitch bit.
I started imagining partitions and cabinets and range hoods and tiles. Tiles! They had to be 60cm x 60cm diagonally set because conventional interior decor wisdom has it that this makes a small place look a lot bigger.
Budget here, budget there. Kasya! I would only need roughly 90 pieces for the whole place. Plus consumables like grout and tile bonding agent of around 20 bags weighing 25 kilos per bag.
Choosing which tile design best reflected my personality was pure joy. I was willing to pay for top of the line Spanish tiles which were selling at 50% off. Heaven. Of course my common sense kicked in right away and I was soon down to two choices. Wood or leather. I was so amazed that ceramic tiles could actually look so close. Leather won. Ramos Cuero. I carefully chose the grout color to match. Paid for everything. Arranged for delivery. I was drooling. I just needed those tiles to be set and I could do anything with the place! Frosted glass on partitions and doors, cabinets of a lighter tone, etc etc.
Two days later, my tiles came crashing down on the dream. Not literally. To my horror, I soon found out (stupid me I didn't do due diligence) that most construction stuff suppliers, appliance dealers, and all other stores that need sweaty muscular young men to deliver stuff DO NOT deliver beyond ground level. And my condo-condohan has this policy of kanya-kanyang bitbit. Even if they were contracted to install my tiles, I had to find a way to haul everything up. Eeeek! 90 super heavy tiles. I could hardly even budge a pack of four, let alone lift it. 20 bags weighing 25 kilos each of tile bonding adhesive! What did I get myself into?
I mean, I wanted daily exercise so I chose the topmost fifth floor unit of that walk-up mid-priced condo in the suburban south. Honest. But not naman that I would consume the daily calorie quota intended for a year in one day only. Wag naman. I'm not a Darna person, and will never be even if I swallow stones and sand and gravel.
And since aminado naman talaga ako that I can't do a Darna with those tiles, I did a Valentina na lang. I used the potent combination of fear and charm to get the supplier to haul everything up. "I will return everything! You pay me back!" And then of course I ambushed the delivery boys and flirted with them. [According to reliable sources boys I flirt with actually have sleepless nights for several weeks, scary kase the way I stare like I'll eat them alive or something tapos di ko naman pala itutuloy eh namutla na nga sila sa pinaghalong libog at kaba, 'chos]. Plus, of course, I paid them handsomely. Mas correct, I paid the handsome one. Meaning, sa kanya ko inabot yung pasasalamat.
So there, problem solved. For now.
I dread the day when I have to do this all over again for the ref, the aircon, etc. etc. It's not easy dealing with toned sweaty young men who use their muscles to earn an honest buck. There's always the temptation to corrupt the honesty.
But like everything, these too shall come to pass and either of two things will happen. Everything that needs to be moved up will be moved up and I will need to spend extra for labor, or everything that needs to be moved up will be moved up and I will spend extra for the laborer. :=)
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
Why Smart People Do Dumb Things
Lots and lots of food for thought. Lots and lots of thought.
Title links to the article. If you follow the link through, don't miss reading the comments.
Title links to the article. If you follow the link through, don't miss reading the comments.
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