Friday, April 29, 2005

Booze Me Up, Scotty: Let Me Climb Your Mountain Act 1

also preferred to be known as: The music of Delirium

This post had been a bit overdue. I write at my own pace and my own time, and theres a lot of things I have pent up, just awaiting its release. I just encountered a doldrum in the past few days, but by an unexpected stroke of the Hand, something happened. Something to form yet another effervescent smile on these lips. Another inspiration for the mind to become fertile once again. For this next piece, lets try mythology. Well, at least my own mythos. If you have an allergy for protracted (yet lovingly created) pieces, this is your warning. You can opt to walk away now, or just read on for the heck of it. 10 minutes of your life would be mine to devour. Now you must excuse me while I prepare to feast on it.


I.
Orpheus, had never experienced flying alone.

He is a demi god, born of a mortal man, and the goddess Hera. He was born unto this earth on the advent of the most important of the year, the end of the crop cycles. Half-immortal, he'd been given gifts from his godly lineage: curly locks of golden hair, a fair countenance, divine reasoning, and the gift of music. However, these things were useless -at least, to him. He had always looked up to the sky, following the course of Apollo's chariot across the vault of heaven. He'd always imagined how it feels to break your bonds from this earth, and soar. This ability had never been imparted in his blood.

How ironic it was that it was his earthly father, not his ethereal mother, who gave him this chance. As far as he can remember, his father had lived most of his mortal life laboring in the stables of the sun god Apollo. His father keeps the four steeds of the winged chariot as luminous as he possibly can. Like a half-deranged man he works thru the hours of the darkness, obssessed. He only goes home once the chariot and the steeds are perfect, ready for another journey across the heavens. Because of this, Orpheus never knew his father, other than that radiant man walking to his room across the hall, in the early hours of the morning.

That was until, one day. The day Orpheus wanted to see the Isle of the Sirens. He had been here once before and this isle captured his imagination. An Isle kissed by the sun and the sea, it is inhabited and frequented by the most alluring creatures anyone has ever beheld. You never run out of things to do here. Founts of bedazzling possibilities gush forth in every corner. The Isle had been breathing since the dawn of the world, and whosoever takes a whiff of its breath is lulled with the desire to always come back.

One day, Orpheus' father gave him a glimmering stone that contained within it, a droplet of the sun. This is the token given to mortals who had been devoted to Apollo and his temple. The droplet always tend to follow the path of the solar disk, like a drop of water who has the desire to go back to the ocean. Whoever grips on to it, would be able to soar on the vault of heaven and fly higher than the eagles. He flew with the wind with a mingling feeling of unquenchable freedom and that underlying fear of falling to the abyss. Finally he was liberated from the shackles tying him down. This feeling had coursed thru his veins and if only he didn't have a set course, he would have opted to remain in flight till the droplet gives out. Orpheus saw the jewel like landmass in the horizon and channeled his will to the stone. He landed on the shimmering island just before the last rays of Apollo's chariot retired for the day. Orpheus had a glorious time on the Isle. From the moment he landed, till the time he needed to go back, there never was a dull moment. The debauchery was overflowing. The sights, the sounds, the mystical aura of the entire Isle enamored the demigod.


II.
But that is not the point of this tale. The story revolves around the encounter of Orpheus with the fabled Sirens of this Isle. In the beginning of his sojourn to the mystic Isle, Orpheus thought that he would be accompanied by his faithful companions, the muses Calliope and Clio, and the god of Wine, however the Fates had different plans for the two muses. Orpheus was set to explore the Isle by his own. Or so he thought.

His first moon at the Isle, on the luminous beach, he was greeted by the bronze demigod whose beauty is undeniable. The first time they've met, they felt that they've known each other their entire lives. They'd have long and winding conversations that would last several moons. Never would one concede his point, and would find yet new threads to tie into the tapestry. In this verbal revelry, they found a higher level of Desire for each other. Dionysus was his name, the god of Wine and Bacchanalia. He had succumbed to the Isle's breath and had called the Isle his home. Having not seen each other for several moons, Dionysus, welcomed him into his abode. The first night their carnal lusts were satiated, the crows cried black tears until they became white.

III.
Unbeknownst to Orpheus, there lurk other entities in the abode of Dionysus. He shares the cavernous halls with a harem of Sirens. Bold, beautiful, seductive, deadly. Their external appearance is like a potent elixir that no man can ever resist. Not even Orpheus. But he knows himself well. In the hollow depths of his half immortal heart, his form is true. He knows what and who he wants.

After several moons, the Sirens felt the need to make their presence felt. Their leader, Peisinoe the seductress, was the one who gave Orpheus her rules of the household. She revealed that she is eldest sister and the sole owner of the abode and she only allows whoever she chooses to stay. Her edicts were strict and you could see the fierceness in her eyes like they were glowing embers ready to set you ablaze. To all of this Orpheus surrendered his will, for the spell of the Siren was just too much to handle. Dionysus could only look on because his devotion to the Siren is deep rooted.


The Sirens were nocturnal creatures. When the chariot of Apollo is blazing across the sky, they find refuge in the shadows, however once Artemis' mirror is ruling the vault of heaven, they come out. Robed in vestments of every imaginable degree of seduction, they fly out into the night ready for next hapless mortal fool who will cross their way. Once you are in their spell, your soul is River Styx-bound already. However, if you happen to catch their fancy, they would fly you back to their domain and keep you there until they want to. Demigods take first priority though, and stay the longest.

However, as the Fates would have it, the stay of Orpheus on the Isle wasn't as grim as its was supposed to be.



What happens next? Well, first of all, if you are still alive upon reaching this point, I congratulate thee. However, the left hand that holds the pen is weary. A second act is in the works.

[Music of the Moment: Go The Distance - M. Bolton ]
[Mood: Greek-y ]

Thursday, April 28, 2005

Dance With My Father

There are times when a song is so right, it strikes a that special tune in discordant hearts. This is a Luther Vandross song. I don't really care if some people cringe at it. They could go suck on thier self-concieved pretentious tastes.
I love the melody, I love the words, but most important of all, I love how it moves me. Its just...beautiful.

Back when I was a child, before life removed all the innocence
My father would lift me high and dance with my mother and me and then
Spin me around 'til I fell asleep
Then up the stairs he would carry me
And I knew for sure I was loved
If I could get another chance, another walk, another dance with him
I'd play a song that would never, ever end

How I'd love, love, love
To dance with my father again
When I and my mother would disagree
To get my way, I would run from her to him
He'd make me laugh just to comfort me
Then finally make me do just what my mama said
Later that night when I was asleep
He left a dollar under my sheet
Never dreamed that he would be gone from me
If I could steal one final glance, one final step, one final dance with him
I'd play a song that would never, ever end

'Cause I'd love, love, love
To dance with my father again
Sometimes I'd listen outside her door
And I'd hear how my mother cried for him
I pray for her even more than me
I pray for her even more than me
I know I'm praying for much too much
But could you send back the only man she loved
I know you don't do it usually
But dear Lord she's dying
To dance with my father again
Every night I fall asleep and this is all I ever dream


Postscript: I've heard this song quite a way back. No matter how vile you are to me, Mr. Savol, thank you for reminding me of this song's existence. One word though, leave Vandross songs (or for that matter, songs from the African American people) alone.

[Music of the Moment: guess what ]
[Mood: dancing ]

Wednesday, April 27, 2005

Comic Book Darkness

How could you pack so many beautiful people in a single film, and still make the film's visual style come out more appealing than the stars themselves?

I've been lusting after most of the people from the moment I laid eyes on them. Can you take a guess who?











Oh, Grampa Bruce Willis is definitely not one of them. ;)

I want to see this. Now.


postscript: Last year it was Marvel, next year its D.C. (Brandon Routh, marry me)
. . .How does The Sandman Chronicles adaptation, sound to producers? ahh. Just thinking about it makes me salivate.

[Music of the Moment: Absurd - Fluke]
[Mood: sinful ]

Tuesday, April 26, 2005

The Pause of A Hundred Winks

Introspection,
Something I haven't done in quite a while.

I was too busy completing my external deity, perfecting its obelisk so that
the worshippers would continue to be in awe.

The purple soul screamed at me, listen to its wail. "A time for me, is all I ask.

When will you finish laying down the mortar? Patches are still left wanting.
And why bother? A certain sect would still bear ill grudges against you?"

I stared at its tremendous size. An amorphous shadow looming, foreboding.

"I have just banished ERIS from the realm of my dreams. What more do you ask for?" I inquired.

It stared. A look that seared my being. Yet it didn't utter a word.

+++

Waking:
AI4 related, I'm having a bad feeling this week. I think that this is the week Anthony says goodbye. Wish it wasn't so, but I really think it will happen.

[Music of the Moment: Corner Of The Sky - Basil Valdez version ]
[Mood: inverted ]

Monday, April 25, 2005

Land Of The Eagles: Green Corner Of The Azure Sky

Change of pace. Instead of my usual belaboring, I'm doing this post in semi-photoblog style. Semi being the operative word because, heck, I'm still gonna belabor. Yes, as the Borgs say: Resistance Is Futile. :)


Jetty Port. The gateway to Boracay. In all fairness, this port is progressing. The first time I got here, this was still under construction. And it was only a single gazebo type structure back then. They've modernized the look and the ticketing system as well. For the first time, the people look like they actually know what they are doing! Also they have implemented these new safety measures like, taking down the names of passengers. So that just in case your boat capsizes in the middle of the sea...at least your name will be included in the dramatic liturgy. I kid, I kid.


Here we spot a foolish camwhore taking a pose in front of his digicam. Notice the serial killer type smile; the intricate and highly flambouyant (read: gay) attire; the semi shaved head for a more marketable approach; the shiny nose due to the arguably long trip (read: 2hours - thats an eternity to me); the yellow teeth due to gorging on chocolate during the entire trip (self deprecation RULES!) ; also notice the lack of passengers on this ferry due to his luggage taking up most of the available space onboard; the buff out bod ready for the escapade...wait, what are you saying you can't see it!? The rippling muscles, the delicious biceps and gluteus maximus? Oh, right, I'm talking about another picture.


And I was talking about this stolen shot of an island native. Sadly, my digicam was created last century hence you can't see the entire package. Mr. Seaman over there is huge! Like every inch of him is taunting you, telling you to take a bite. At least that's what it told me. However, this is Station 3 and the ferry only made a stop over to drop off these unruly teenagers on board. Oh well.


Station 2. In front of the hotel of Mr. Wonderwall and friends. A beach that streches out an entire 4.5 kilometers. And thats just the White Beach! There's still Puka Beach, and other smaller stretches strewn all around. Have you ever tried a 4.5 kilometer walkathon?


Ah, Tirol and Tirol. Spacious, tropical interior. Thatched houses that remind you of the bahay kubos of yore, only they have unique, modern twists. Its just beside the Regency Hotel (which eeriely all the employees, even the manager, are consistent in pronouncing it: RE-jen-si. Not ri-jen-si. Who knows, maybe the owner is Reginald or something.)


You could never have too much greenery in your surroundings. Just keep on going straight and you'll get your footsies wet.


The cast of Lost in Arrested Development: Sex and the Island. Beautiful people one and all. Look at those gorgeous faces. Bidding starts at $1500...except of course that handsome dude in brown. He's pricier.. Do I hear $1600? :)


Here's what happens when the camera timer runs out and you haven't have enough time to project. What do you do? You sneer. Yeah. Everyone in this picture is from that institution along Katipunan with that humongous blue chicken as a mascot, well everyone..almost. Guess who's from the rival school? 5:1. Ang saya.



In all due fairness, these peeps are very warm and endearing. They are as down to earth as humanly possible. I guess, the stereotypes are not 100% accurate. See this fool in the videowall? He's smiling because it was a trip worth remembering. Independence? Check. Unmitigated fun? Check. Tomfoolery? Check. Drama? Check.

Drama?!? Well...Thats another story.



[Music of the Moment: Mc Arthur's Park - Carrie Underwood ]
[Mood: camwhorish ]

Seeing Thru One Eye

Ok, weekends over. Aside from me meeting Fidel, my crushie from Downelink, and him meeting my friends; this in turn resulted in me getting a ton of teasing from Cris, Chiqui and Rex (they said they'll be putting up a blotter for me at Bantay Bata 163 for dating a minor -which he is not. He's 19! Yes he is...well, at least on his birthday this year!); spending time at home which I haven't done for the longest time now; updating my Friendster & Downelink profile and pics like crazy; watching a company Basketball game which I have zero interest in, all for the sake of friends playing; a drinking session at Grilla, Rockwell with the gang; not getting a hangover which I was kinda hoping I would because I don't want to come in for work today...not much had happened.

That drinking session apparently had other nefarious things in mind for me. I woke up today, thinking, what the fork? I'm blind! . . . Strike that. Half blind! I can't open my left eye. I tried, however its way too painful. And besides, when I do, tears gush forth. Its crazy. I came in to work with tinted shades and matching cap (just to take attention off the eyes). Walking along Paseo De Roxas to my building, I have to stop every few meters to try and see if there are any potholes in front of me, that and I had to wipe tears gushing from my left eye. Funny thing happened, I had to stop at a corner and wipe tears. Then Fidel texted me the usual "take care on your way to work" text. So I was reading my celly and wiping my eye, thats when 2 guards, a man and a lady, approached me and asked:

"Ok, ka lang, Totoy?"

I almost laughed out loud, if only these stupid tears aren't in the way, so I stiffled it. They offered me water (so sweet of them) and asked why I'm bawling.

"Nakipag break ba girlfriend mo sayo?" inquired the lady guard.

Ok, strike two. First, they call me Totoy (which in the bit least is flattering..Age doesn't show. hehe) then they ask this. If only there are more people like these then the world would be a better place. It was really so thoughtful of them but wrong person, wrong situation. I just told them I'm ok really. Oh, well, at least they made my day.

Lesson for the day boys and girls: Alcohol, if taken in nonmoderation is (semi)evil!

Back to the series...

[Music of the Moment: Weak -SWV ]
[Mood: 2nd eye blind ]

Friday, April 22, 2005

Week Enders vol. 6

Pardon me but I have to put my series on hold for a while. The weekends loom before us for chrissakes! Who would be sitting down in front of their PCs and read my meanderings on these glorious days? As a distraction, its been quite a while since I've done my Week Enders. I missed it sorely. New to these pages? Well weekenders had been around for a while. (See the number). I used to have one Friday every week, but as for now, only when the time allows. What I do is I have 6 bullets and I have to fill them up with related tidbits from a single topic. For this week, the focus is: Crazy People.

Due to reasons of national security and sanity, I'm doing the first one in a blind item fashion. Crazy person (notice the lack of pronouns? Bato bato na lang.) number 1 goes on a very fabulous trip, meets little old me and welcomes me into their temporary domicile in paradise as a guest. A few days later, CP1 (crazy person 1) accusses me of fondling breasts. Women breasts, at that! This caused me to walk out in disgust and pity for the CP. They know me like the way that slutty Mariah Carey knows how to wear a nun's vestment. They know me not. (curious? It will be coming up in future entries)

Ok blind item over. Crazy Person number 2 is that officemate of mine who backed out at the last minute. When we made the budget projection over a month ago, we were both gung-ho about it. A few days prior to the trip, CP2 shopped like a madman-woman. A day before the trip, he was left with barely enough to last 3 days (we were shooting for an entire week). A day before the trip CP2 cancelled. While I was busy wasting my life away in leisure, I found out through a reliable source that CP2 went to Bataan with the remaining money of his. At this point I would have wrung his neck, its just that he welcomed me back so warmly the other night and vowed to make ammends, my hands forgot about the wringing urge. All is well, my brother.

CP numero Tres is that crazy dude I met on the shores of Bora. He's just...well, crazy. Too crazy. However, I won't transcribe the juicy details here. (yup, Advent Blogging Act 123 - thou shall not write anything related to personal relationships. Thats something to treasure. Bury it, keep something back. Allusions, however are welcome.) Can't help it. He's way too hot to pass up. Drop dead beeyootifool, gym-pampered bod and a good conversationalist. He flattered me, he satiated me and he fulfilled a fantasy. But have I told you he's crazy? Lucky I gave him my temporary sim number.

Back on the shores of Metro Manila, in the officefront, Crazy Person number four is our Global Manager cum Evil Queen who found out that one (read: one) agent on the floor was keeping credit card numbers in his PDA. CP4 went ballistic and passed a universal law of the land: that anything that can electronically store information (read: celly, PDAs, MP3 players..) is banned for all eternity from going beyond the reception area. Anyone caught will be dealt with accordingly, or burned at the stake, whichever he/she prefers. I'm rousing up the peace-loving local villagers to go after Mr. Evil Queen with firebrands and pitchforks.

5th Crazy Person of the week is, of course, yours truly. Who shaved his head for the trip? Who stayed out all day long without a drop of sunblock? Who else would come up with a list like this? That's right. CP5 = Me.

You might have seen this coming but this list wouldn't be complete without including the craziest person I know: my Mom. (See this episode). This week I came home and I saw her in the bathroom drawing the bath. But it wasn't for her. It was for Dogie/Puppy/Jun-jun. "Ah, basta dapat mabango si Jun-jun! Walang pake-elamanan!" was all she said at my gruntled look, while she was busy bathing the dog like she does a little baby.

You know that fruity commercial on T.V. where Ricky Reyes is asking everyone to guess who used Palmolive? Its none of the the two girls on screen as both of them came straight from the salon. The one who used Palmolive, however, is Jun-Jun.

btw, its already showing over yonder, I hope this makes it here too. Me = Drooling like a fool.

The Interpreter
Kidman - Penn


Have a crazy weekend you, you and you! Stay beautiful.





[Music of the Moment: September - Farewell perfomance Anwar Robinson ]
[Mood: roaring for the restdays ]

Thursday, April 21, 2005

Flights Of Fancy: Independence Day pt.2

You could never make me sit inside a vehicle for hours on end. I squirm, I bitch, I nag everybody just to keep my own sanity. Better to have them lose it, than me right? Thats why, Jen, I'm having second thoughts on that Baguio thing. Would you skin me alive if I just fly there and wait till you arrive? :) I kid, I kid.

In the same way, I couldn't imagine me sitting inside a ship travelling in the middle of the sea for 18 hours just to get to paradise. No worse torture for me. That's why I can forgive you Mr. Cancel-A-Day-Before-Partypooper, what you did was actually a blessing in disguise. Aside from reconnecting me with my estranged (hehe, the term) father, I was able to travel first class.

looky. OPEN ticket. Pinch me.
Yup, P15.00. Roundtrip. San ka pa?


My dad woke me up early the next day. So early, you cant even consider it tomorrow yet. He told me I better have my bags packed already because he was taking me to the airport. He kept on asking me if the hotel had been informed of my arrival, how to make sure I don't take the wrong shuttle from Kalibo to Caticlan, if I brought enough sunscreen to last me until the sun runs out of steam and fizzles out of the sky. Heck, he was even more excited than morning-glory-eyed me! Ang cute.

He dropped me off the departure area at the Centennial Airport. Not without a ton of instruction on what to do next. So, there I was. A thousand pounds of luggage and me, alone on a flight for the first time. The only thing keeping me company was my trusty MP3 player and my digicam. As soon as I checked in my ticket and my humongous bag, I had to wait.

Dark. Foreboding? Yup. Of my color in the days to come.
Mugshot? Check.


The Centennial Airport is a million miles away in sophistication from the derelict that is the NAIA. Spacious interior, chic-modern feel to the lines and the accents, a swarm of restaurants and specialty shops, overbearingly polite attendants. However, no matter how slick the facade is, the airport, like all the other airports I've already seen, is so cold. No, not the temperature, you silly. Just the atmosphere. Its a place of separation. Could there be anything colder than that?

But then a few minutes before boarding, I got this thru text:

I know this is important to you, thats why I want you to enjoy it as best as you can. Have the time of your life, but don't overindulge. Your mom and I are just a text away should in case you have any emergency. Have fun, my son.

How ironic can it be? That the missing piece between the two of us would be flying? It had been staring at my face all along. I've readjusted my views. I couldn't ask for more. A smile, unconsciously slipped thru.

"Final call for passengers boarding flight 239 headed for Kalibo..."

Here goes.


Snapshot of a random couple? Check.


[Music of the Moment: Don't Take Away The Music - Anthony Fedorov ]
[Mood: flying ]

posted by advent @ 5:15:00 PM >0 comments links to this post

Intermission

I interrupt this train of thought to talk about something else. Come on, you don't really want to hear everything in a single gulp now do you? I thought so, too.

I must admit I've never been this much hooked on American Idol. Not even last year when we had, not 1 but 2 representatives on the show, it was pretty *meh to me. But this year, they got to me. Maybe because there is sooo much talent oozing from all the contestants to the point where there is no obvious choice since everyone has their own stuff to strut. Maybe because everyone has this unique charisma, their own spice to add to the mix. Maybe because I'm doll-eyed with one in particular. Or maybe because there is one contestant who I'm pretty sure is a part of the sisterhood no matter what they say. (*winks at you Mr. I-wanna-sing-Streisand-Khan-Warwick-songs-like-its-nobody's-business).

At this point, I'm actually rooting for everyone. I love the Musicals Theme, The Birthyear Theme, 70's Dance Classic Theme. Arrg. Eventhough I missed the episode last week because I wanted to be T.V.-free on the island (and it was a good idea) I downloaded the show and watched it at work. Yep. At work. Can't help it. You know that cheesy question often thrown at singers where the dorky reporter asks "If you weren't in the business, what would you be doing?" Of course, the celebrities are stopping themselves from saying that they'd probably be selling fish and veggies at the local wet market, but if the tables were turned and I was asked that question? I'd say I'd be singing. To qoute Ms. Fantasia "Duckbill-Yeah-yeah-yeah" Barrino: I believe. :)

Ok, before I shoot myself for becoming overly mushy-ramatic, I've got some episodes to catch.

edit: This just in. We've lost our sister in the competition. I guess the pride flag would be waved in some other seasons. :( It was the dancing that turned most people (+ahem*homophobic*ahem+) off, Anwar. You should have stopped your inner fairy from bursting forth.

[Music of the Moment: Everybody's Got Something -Ford Commercial ]
[Mood: breaking into a song ]

posted by advent @ 3:13:00 PM >0 comments links to this post

Wednesday, April 20, 2005

Flights Of Fancy: Independence Day pt.1



I've never thought I can actually fly on my own. Eversince I was little, I have this inherent fear of heights. Even 2 storey buildings cause me dizzy spells. Thru the years, I've somehow managed to mitigate this affliction. Now I can take 3 storeys and not get nausea! (insert canned laughter here)

Imagine 26,000 feet above sea level.

I've crossed the Pacific Ocean and the South China Sea to visit my relatives before, I've also taken my first trip to Bora thru one of PAL's flights to Kalibo. However, through all of these past trips, as far as I can remember, I kept the blinds shut real tight. I don't know. I just don't want to see the little green men tearing away the wings of the plane, I guess.

But then this time around, I swore to the highest heavens that this trip would push thru come hell or high waters. Initially, the plan was to go on these rusty RO-RO's that goes to all of the major ports in the country. I did not make use of my flight priveleges (thanks to my ever-loving father) and had to rough it up because I was going with an officemate that does not have the budget for a flight. But guess what? Our Ro-Ro adventure was set on Sunday. Friday prior, we were all roaring to go, but then Saturday came. A text to end all text messages:

"Sori, Bex (meaning me) I (meaning the officemate whom I want to gut) cnt cme nemore. An xtreme family emergency came up. Sori tlga. :( "


Can you say flabbergasted? That was me, that Saturday night. Of all days, he had to cancel a day before the actual trip. Out of sheer panic, I did what I rarely do. I called up my dad and talked to him.

Little Me: "Dad, I'm in a fix. I need a flight to Kalibo by tomorrow. Please help me."
*pauses thinks that my dad would say something along the lines of:
Imagination Dad: "Are you a halfwit? No! I will be curtailing anything that will lead to your happiness...Blah blah blah."
*however what he really said was:
Real Dad: "You should have told me yesterday coz the ticketing office is only open Mondays to Fridays. I'll get you one first thing Monday. I'll take care of everything.

Just like that. And the wounds that had been separating me from my dad closed. Even if its a day behind schedule, technically its the same anyway, because when you ride a RO-RO that leaves Cubao 11pm Sunday night, it arrives on the shores of Caticlan 1 pm the next day.

I was there 12pm Monday.

To be continued...

[Music of the Moment: Golden Ticket/Pure Imagination (Main Title Theme) - Willy Wonka's Chocolate Factory ]
[Mood: emancipated ]

posted by advent @ 2:36:00 PM >0 comments links to this post

I'm Back And I'm Black

And you know how the saying goes. All together now: "Once you go..."

Well I'm not really THAT dark. Surprisingly, I just got a shade darker...uhm, Sige na nga! I got three shades darker! There.

Thats what you get when you stay out in the sun for hours on end, for 6 whole days, and (are you ready for this?) without applying a drop of sunblock. You think: silly boy, you have lost it. Not really, its just a part of my trip mantra. To enjoy the trip to the fullest, when in Rome, NEVER do as the Romans do.

But I jump ahead of my story. If you had been reading these pages, you'll be familiar with this. This will be the second series in Quintology (the first one was about Mr. Wonderwall). If you're new to this or just happened to drop by these pages, this is my convenient excuse to write a reaaaally long entry.

I. Flights of Fancy: Independence Day
II. Land of the Eagles: Green Corner of the Azure Sky
III. Booze Me Up, Scotty: Let Me Climb Your Mountain
IV. Sizzling Sheets: Let's Hear It For The Boy/s
V. Untitled (ok, so I haven't come up with one yet.)

I'll give you a penny if you can name who sang those songs (that is assuming they can be recognized). So, ready to listen? Let me put up the volume a little bit higher. I can't hear myself think...

[Music of the Moment: that ubiquitous Gaynor song ]
[Mood: sunburnt to perfection ]

posted by advent @ 1:38:00 PM >0 comments links to this post

Tuesday, April 19, 2005

Saturday Black

My eagle had landed back on the muddy shores of Metro Manila last Saturday. I'm sore all over but a good way, of course. ;) Prepare for the tsunami-like posts in the coming days.


erratum: last post somewhere near the last part was something like: "I And bottled water!" Notice the capitalized A in the word And. I isn't supposed to be there. It was the 'shroom people I tell you!! They logged in to this account and wrote that! Darn them! Yeah.

[Music of the Moment: Angel - J. Secada ]
[Mood: missing the lulling sound of the waves ]

posted by advent @ 1:27:00 PM >0 comments links to this post

Friday, April 08, 2005

Can You Hear It?

Dear you,

I'm going out. Make it, I'm going out for a week. I would sorely miss opening you up, accessing your innards and jotting down my meandering thoughts on your fragile frame. But you have to agree, we shouldn't be spending WAY to much time together. You don't want me to get tired of your face, and you likewise, now do you? Believe me. We need this.

Don't worry, I've already packed my bags. Yes, I've brought the rediculously high SPF 70 sunblock (not thats its gonna do me any good, I'll be black as Michael Jackson when I get back. I kid. I kid.), of course I won't forget the highway robbery that is my pair of Havaianas (who was the genius again who made me get this? Its killing my footsies), I've also brought enough apparel for every concievable situation. So many, in fact it would make Mr. Smith cry. Don't forget that we're going all maverick for this, I And bottled water! That would top the list of most non-expendables. Provincial waters has this odd, tangy-like taste. Brr. Am I forgetting anything?

Oh yeah. I've got a whole pack of that. And something else for good measure.

So, I'm off. I'll be back soon, love. Or maybe not.

My soul is yours,
Derek

p.s. no I'm not bringing you puka shells or sand in a bottle.
I'll bring you something more special.


+ + +
This site will be despirited for a week. The ringmaster is taking time away from the circus that is Metro Manila. Feel free to browse around. My animals are tame enough not to eat you up. I'll be back...probably when the tide washes me away from the island. Have a good weekend people!



[Music of the Moment: you know that "bilog ang mundo" thing that nobody knows the title of? Ok except you smartypants. ]
[Mood: FUCKTASTIC ]

posted by advent @ 9:30:00 PM >0 comments links to this post

Shake It For Me

Last nightI had a very uncharacteristic dream. Uncharacteristic AND weird. I was walking in a garden straight out of the Disney movies. Think painfully pleasant colors and characters. Bambi was there, Dumbo too, and so was Goofy and Pluto (the ugliest cartoon dog in existence) and all the cutesy-fartsy, fawning characters all merrily traipsing about and singing their woodland songs. I was about to draw a revolver out of thin air (you know how dreams go) and shoot myself back to consciousness when I came to a clearing. There in the middle of the woods was a tent straight out of Arabian Nights. And enchanting bedouin music was playing, softly at first, then louder and louder. I stepped into the tent and there I saw (as far as I can remember) the most beautiful belly dancer in existence (or non-existence, whichever way you look at it). She was gyrating her pelvis in the most seductive way and I was staring at her like a lovestruck fool for a very long while.

It was eeriely almost similar to this:


Take note, before now, I haven't even seen these pictures. The reason why I posted them was that, when I came back to reality, I decided to watch T.V. and probably shake off the weirdness. I was watching MYX and guess who I saw? I came across the music video of Shakira (its that uber hot Latina with the signature pelvic thrusts pictured above)

Coincidence?

She sang this song, btw:

So I find a reason to shave my legs
Each single morning
So I count on someone on
Friday nights to take me dancing
And then to church on Sundays
To plant more dreams
And someday think of kids
Or maybe just to save a little money

You're the one I need
The way back home is always long
But if you're close to me I'm holding on
You're the one I need
My real life has just begun
Cause there's nothing like your smile made of sun

In the world full of strangers
You're the one I know

So I learned to cook
and finally lose my kitchen phobia
So I've got the arms to cuddle in
When there's a ghost or a muse
That brings insomnia
To buy more thongs
And write more happy songs
It always takes a little help from someone

You're the one I need
With you my real life has just begun
Nothing like your smile made of sun


I like the song. Actually, I like the honesty in the words. The next day, Mr. W called to wake me up. There was this stupid smile on my face. The refrain was playing in my head.

However, I'm still torn at what the dream actually wants to say. Can it be that I'm picking up T.V. transmissions and able to play it back in my head, just mix it up with all the kookiness that is in there? Or could it be that I'm having a, *gasp*, heterosexual man's wet dream...

*draws revolver out of thin air and shoots himself.


[Music of the Moment: bellydancing with Shakira ]
[Mood: uhm, belly dancing? ]

posted by advent @ 9:06:00 PM >0 comments links to this post

Thursday, April 07, 2005

Beach Bum For A Week

guess what island this is?
A whole week of hedonism. A whole week of sand and surf. A whole week of pure escape. Beautiful friends, a beautiful someone to snuggle to, getting reservations at the swankiest beach side hotel, and oodles of dough to burn. What more can I ask for? By the time we're through, there'd be nothing left to do on the island, 'xept maybe scoop the ocean dry.


Me. Crazy. Excited.

[Music of the Moment: Cafe Del Mar 1 ]
[Mood: preparing all artilery for a trip of the senses ]

posted by advent @ 3:56:00 PM >0 comments links to this post

Idolatry

FINALLY.

Its like a silent confirmation. Eversince I saw him perform on stage, there was this lingering thought at the back of my head that he is one of us.

I'm talking about Anwar Robinson.

Barbra Streisand songs, Chaka Khan, and now ladies and gentlemen: THE SCARF TO END ALL SCARVES!!!!

And because of that, he's my next American Idol. :)

*(Z snaps)* You go, girl!


postscript:

Paula Abdul has GOT to lay off on those upper pills. Its in the eyes, I tell you. She's loaded. And did you see her in the closing shots? She totally lost it. It was funny, though.


post-post script:

Dear Anthony,
What the fark happened? I may be your craziest, dorkiest, biggest fan on the face of this planet but CLIMB EVERY ****n MOUNTAIN? Sure, I'd like to climb YOUR mountain but whats with the first few lines? William Hung sounded better! Did you get any sleep the night before? Nevertheless, I would still remain devoted to thee. You looked so hot tonight. Blue, like the color of your eyes, is so you.

Love lots,
Me

[Music of the Moment: If Ever I Would Leave You from Camelot by Anwar Robinson ]
[Mood: standing on a mountain top, offering sacrifices to an deity ]

posted by advent @ 1:28:00 PM >0 comments links to this post

Wednesday, April 06, 2005

Cooking + Me = Can Be

Sunday was a day most extraordinary. I had just discovered a hidden talent. Ladies and Gentlemen, I can cook. Real. Good.

And before anyone raises their moustache, let me just say that its a big deal for me because I barely venture into that part of our house that is called the "kitchen" let alone whip something up that is in anyway, edible. I can boil water, yes. Probably even shoot in an instant pancit or two. Other than that, zilch. Or so I thought.

I was given a chance to test out new waters last Sunday. It was my doppelganger's birthday celebration, and we planned a house party for the gang. In my eagerness to set up a kind of party like this, I wasn't able to read the fine print. We (meaning Cris and I) would also have to take care of the fodder to feed the multitutes. A daunting task at that, for Cris' place is humongous with a capital BIG and we were not really sure how many would attend. I'm always up for a challenge.

Our day started at 9 am, I picked her up from the office then we headed to her (slightly)humble abode in Q.C. We changed into pambahay because she was going to take me to my first ever palengke-ing at Muñoz. Na-shock ako sa laki ng palengke sa Muñoz (so shocked, napatagalog na ko). It has everything in dozens. Dozens of fish stalls, vegetable stalls, meat stalls, milled rice stalls. Funny thing about the milled rice stalls, it has all these labels for rice. Pardon my naivete but I've always thought rice is just, well, rice. But the vendors begged to differ. They have (in no particular order): Masarap-Malambot, Malambot-Pino, Masarap-Makatas, Masarap-Makatas...and other imaginable permutations. As for the marketplace, there were so many twists and turns, and so many odd things to see that I swear I could have gotten lost in it, without Cris holding my hand. However, I'm proud of one thing though: I'm a Palengke Virgin no more.

We headed back to her house, prepared everything and had a blast in the process. I fell in love with how everything works. You mix the spices and make sure everything blends right, you measure the ingredients, you cut the pieces in beautiful proportions, you stoke the fire until everything comes out to perfection. Its almost like real life, only you literally eat what you sow.

The party turned out really great. Not only did it opened up a whole new avenue for me to go into, it also created a buzz within my circle. Suddenly everybody wants to have me cook for them in the upcoming events. O.A. nila ha.

But then again, I will be perfecting this craft thats for sure. Maybe then, gagawin ko 'tong career. Now, does anybody know about reasonably priced culinary courses?



[Music of the Moment: Before Your Love - Kelly Clarkson ]
[Mood: smokin ]

posted by advent @ 3:03:00 PM >0 comments links to this post

Tuesday, April 05, 2005

The Tale of The Dog With Three Names

After so many years of absence, we again have a living, breathing animal occupying that vacant little doghouse we made several years back. Courtesy of our family beautician (you know, those parlor owners whom you've grown up with over the years?) this little bundle of joy is a halfbreed. Half Shitzu, that proud breed from the land of the rising sun; and half Askal, that proud breed from the land of Azucena. I'm a proud owner of a Kal-Tzu.

Make no mistake about it. This breed is a blessing from heaven. It has that "cute as a button" appeal, which makes you go all crazy about. And true to its pinoy roots, it has a built-in trash compactor-like stomach. It can eat anything (leftovers and whatever is lying strewn across the household: door stoppers, paper clips, plastic toys, wanna continue?...) and not get indigestion. It does away with the need to buy those overpriced dog chows and treats. Plus, it keeps the house tidy. San ka pa?

As a tribute to one of my most favorite local comic strips for all time (Pugad Baboy, check out volume 7 where the ba-Boys trekked up Mt. Banahaw) I came up with a name for him. From now on, I'm calling him Dogie. Yup. Thats with an -ie, not -y. Think about it. Its the most ingenious name ever. No one would name their, uhm, dog, Dogie. It just adds to his uniqueness: a rare breed warrants a rare name. Plus its so easy to remember.

Of course this was met with bawling laughter from my sisters and they insisted on other names, which of course are all cheeseball names. I stood my ground. That will be his name from now on. Like a decree, I expect it to be obeyed by the underlings. That was until my youngest sister blurted something that knocked me off my feet. "Why call him dogie? He's barely 3 months old. Ah basta, I'm gonna call him Puppie." And then Confucious said: "let there be two geniuses in the family".

Things got a bit confusing for some days. Half of the household calling him Dogie, half Puppie. That was until my loka loka (yet very lovable) mom hopped into the foray. This happened when we were fighting over who gets to play with Dogie/Puppie next. We were calling out the names we want and see who he comes to. Like me, my mom is a true blue Vilmanian. Out of the blue she said "Ibalik niyo sakin si Jun-Jun!" And then the dog ran to her like a lunatic.

[insert "Sino Ang Baliw" theme song here]



[Music of the Moment:Never Can Say Goodbye: David Brown AI4 ]
[Mood: smart-ass like my Doggie ]

posted by advent @ 2:59:00 PM >0 comments links to this post

Monday, April 04, 2005

In Four Words

Warning: the image below may or may not describe me in general. However, it might be close.




Wanna know what you are?



ps: yup, its one of those dumb tests. Dumb but really fun.


[Music of the Moment: my tummy grumbling in tune ]
[Mood: hungry like crazy ]

posted by advent @ 7:58:00 PM >0 comments links to this post

Hitting Them High

Crazy weekend. Evenmoreso, for the next.

6 days from now, we'll be basking in the talcum-like white sands of that little 8 kilometer-long beach down south. The booze, the luau, the heavenly bodies and beautiful faces, the hallucinogenic parties, the BEACH...If I could cut up this week from the folds of time and bring it to Sunday, I will.

Mr. W and I, along with a ton of friends will be storming the island. I guess I just broke my pattern.

Life is good.



postscript:
I've met Kervin, a Metropop graduate, batchmate of Kyla, trained under Ryan Cayabyab's school of music, and has the most amazing voice. I had the chance to sing with him. He liked what he heard. Me. Smiling.

[Music of the Moment: That song by Peabo Bryson ]
[Mood: elated as elated can be ]

posted by advent @ 2:23:00 PM >0 comments links to this post

Friday, April 01, 2005

Before Heaven's Gate: An Epilogue

Permit my mind to dance through a single thought right now. Permit me to speak in words that are foreign on my lips. Permit me to speak about religion.

You might be living under a rock if you haven't heard of the grave condition that the Vatican Pontiff is in. I was smitten, much to my surprise.

I have grown up in a household wherein the most symbolic icon that has a vague resemblance to religion would be an immaculate reproduction of Leonardo's The Last Supper. It wasn't even bought. It was a gift from a distant relative. John, Matthew, and Luke to me are Michael Baigent, Richard Leigh, and Henry Lincoln.

When I was a little boy I'd often associate somber feelings towards religious rituals. My eyes were accustomed to see these events as just one of those human need for ostentation. They were pointless, and a tad too hypocritical. I could reach back to a time when I was looking for my own god. One who doesn't castigate you for not attending Mass on Sundays, one who speaks on a lofty abode, one who does need words from a book to prove his existence. But thats another story altogether.

For a while, I felt extremely malevolent towards the Church and what it represents. Its trying to herd sheep that doesnt want to be penned up anymore. Doctrines from antiquity being applied to modern society. Labelling people because of their lifestyle and telling to their faces that they do not deserve a piece of heaven. And who would take the blunt of my dislike than the spearhead himself? However, I still gave Ceasar what is due to him. I gave him my respect.

Over the years, that respect fluctuated. He won my heart when he went here for the World Youth Day during my elementary years (the soundtrack of which would be the ubiquitous Tell The World Of His Love ditty, which caused ringing in my head for so many months). There was also the time when he sent a hefty amount of aid to those famine stricken countries. But then he fell out of grace with me when he gave his blessing to Mr. George "WMD" Bush to wage a war on a country on the pretense that his nation is on a mission of "peace". More like: Give me a "peace" of that Oil rich land. To this, he just washed his hands clean. And what more can cripple whatever remaining veneration I had for him? Its when he said in his 'Centesimus Annus' (encyclical letter), that homosexuality is an 'Ideology of Evil'.

At this point in his life, when he is at his last moments, I can't help but feel a tinge of sympathy. I wonder, what was it like dedicating your whole life to a dying cause? What is it like to grow up in monasteries, shielded from the realities of the world? What is it like to be deemed the closest thing on this Earth to God? And what is it like to lead an entire multitude and try to carry their burden? For the last part, thats where he wins back my admiration.

I sincerely hope for your recovery, Karol. You are a strong man. We may not be on the same page, however I respect you. You did the best job you can. And your lot would remember you for that. A good journey to you. And if ever we meet at the Pearly Gates in the not so distant future, could you put in a good word for me?



Have a good weekend everyone. Remember that prayers are potent. It doesn't hurt to try.

[Music of the Moment: Vaghe fonti - Arioso ]
[Mood: solemn ]

posted by advent @ 11:56:00 PM >0 comments links to this post