Tag Archives: Vancouver

My Heart and Running

I head to the eye of perceived tackiness to reach my goal.

For me, the long road to catch up with Chemae starts with overcoming literal roads made of concrete. I’ve recently taken up my father’s sport which I had reviled before just because of its unsightly look: sweaty men with their oversized thigh and butt muscles bulging through their super short shorts. Some find it sexy. I think it’s dreadfully icky.

You guessed right. I’m into running.

Saying No to Snot

As a premature child just 6 months old when I came crawling out of my mom in the wrong position (that is, I wasn’t upside down like most infants), I unfortunately got more than my fair share of congenital ill luck. Aside from the obvious physical deformity, my entire physiological system is basically as messy and as compromised as a public bathroom. Compared to the boys in elementary, I was just weak, which is why I made sure I kicked all their healthy asses in the brains division. After years of futile struggle at being healthy, I’m still continuing to suffer the damn effects of my incorrect development and birth.

One of the most screwed-up things in my body is my cardiovascular system. It’s so poor that never does a month pass by without me having another viral infection, resulting in a handkerchief oozing with snot. The worst days were when I get to fill 2 hankies with dripping, finger-binding snot.

Early-morning health buffs at the SM City parking lot. They're getting to know my face there.

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Neverland: 94 Days to Go (White Memories, Glenda Gloria, the Future and Noynoy)

We are down to two digits: 94 Days to go before ropes and nooses become strangely attractive to me. It is with great sadness and frustration that I announce my complete and utter resignation at maintaining my daily countdown. Still, I am very much determined to document the few days I have left, so I’ll just give an account of moments that my glitchy brain have successfully recorded.

White Memories

For me, there are two uses of metaphors: one is to beautify language and the other is to deliberately conceal meaning. In this case, when I say we had lots of fun white memories over the long weekend, I’m obviously using metaphor in the latter sense.

Some people just get big, red ants in their pants when you do something fun, forcing you to use metaphors in your blog. We can’t do anything about it because as I’ve said before, some (or most) people just can’t help being annoying. One thing I’ve learned during the course of my relationship with Chemae though is to never, ever underestimate her will to have fun.

When Chemae wants to have fun, some people may have to cry in pain.

Glenda Gloria at the Next Table

One of the biggest surprises when you get into a relationship with someone is his or her family. In my case, I wasn’t expecting the managing editor of Newsbreak and the CEO of ANC to be three meters away from me, eating Ilokano food at family gatherings. Continue reading

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Neverland: 107 Days to Go (A Failed Attempt atĀ Self-Flagellation)

Yes, yes, crucify me! Pour gasoline on me then let my carcass burn through the night so the crackling fire and black smoke can serve as warning to all those who go back on their word!

I am guilty of not maintaining my countdown to Never, Neverland. And now, I cannot remember what happened in all those days since I last wrote a decent entry. All those rare, precious days are unrecorded now; forever forgotten by a man who tries desperately to remember them all.

After a year of living without Chemae, I’d reread my blog and notice the excruciating jump from 116 Days to 107 Days. I’d curse myself for being such a lazy-ass moron. Yes, there are only 107 Days to go before everything happy around me breathes their final breath. And I’m failing at remembering. Continue reading

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Neverland: 116 Days to Go (Grasping and Losing Time’s Tail)

Time is a speedy motherf*cker. Can you believe it? Just 116 days to go now before my birthday death day party. Chemae and I wrote some articles, sent some Tweets here and there, went to a beach in Zambales, drank with friends, watched a movie and — ta-da! 17 precious days have already passed since I started counting down to D-Day. If I close my eyes now for a few seconds and take a breather, I might open them up to witness an airplane flying off toward the infinite blue sky.

More on how fast time trolls us all later. Now, a quick recap of days that went by.

120 Days to Go:

We watched Kick-Ass in Trinoma. I’ve been waiting for this movie for a long while because I’m really into this concept of superheroes without any powers — something I just learned now upon reflection. I got into Watchmen very easily despite its brooding and complex nature, and Batman is still my most favorite superhero. All these guys are crimefighters but they don’t have any super powers. I wonder if that says something about me?

Well, Kick-Ass was just pure of win. It’s so awesome that I’m still geeking about it today, which is increasingly making Chemae irritated. But make no mistake, despite her revulsion for flashy Hollywood movies with unbelievable plots — she liked Kick-Ass a lot, especially everyone’s inappropriate crush: the 13-year-old Hit Girl (actually, the character is just 10 years old). Now I’m following the actress who played the foulmouthed baby assassin on Twitter. Maybe the interest will wear off after a while.

119 Days to Go:

I woke up very hungry with my weight ghosts haunting my consciousness. Every time I feel hungry, I feel I’m losing too much weight and I’ll turn really, really ugly (I’m quite obsessed at maintaining and increasing my current weight. So I consider myself better than anorexics ’cause I’m actually hell-bent on doing the opposite thing they’re doing.)

Chemae and I went to the supermarket very early to buy a pack of danggit. The crunchy salted fish has been the stuff of our daydreams about food since we came back from Nagsasa where we fried some of it in front of the sea. So we bought an overpriced pack from SM North and went to our house where we cooked it along with some fried rice. It really amazed me that Chemae was amazed at me when she learned I eat fried rice every morning. Apparently, fried rice for her is like lechon — something people come up with during very, very special occasions. It’s really funny what we come to define as normal growing up in our own respective families. Hell, I used to think every one who ate a different kind of meal for breakfast, lunch and dinner were all really rich just because we never did that at home.

Back to danggit, Chemae was very close to punching me in the face because of how frustrated she was with what we bought. The brand we cooked didn’t turn crispy even after I cooked it for a long time in low and high fire. It also tasted so salty that you can put a millimeter of it in your mouth and that would’ve been enough to go with three spoonfools of rice. No tomatoes and eggs, too, like Chemae had been fantasizing. We vowed never to buy in SM’s crappy supermarket ever again.

In the afternoon, we went to Antarctica (where penguins rock). Chemae was very tired but nevertheless, happy. A new penguin had joined them. šŸ˜€ Continue reading

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Neverland: 121 Days to Go (Fast-forwarding the Fruitless Week)

Coming back from an awesome beach trip to Nagsasa, this week felt more incredibly dull as the city looked like a completely gray picture of staleness and pollution. The only thing that’s pushing me to continue doing my regular day-to-death activities is the prospect of a fun drinking session today, Friday, at Mogwai in Cubao Expo — the beehive of all the cool “artist” bees in the metro. But let it be known: I still prefer Sarah’s careless banter and layman philosophical talk over Mogwai’s. Still, with Lele, Angel and Rizch coming over, it should be great later.

And now, a quick review of this monotonous week, which just gobbled up 5 days of my precious time with Chemae:

125 Days to Go:

I kept thinking about how beautiful Nagsasa was compared to Pag-Asa, Quezon City and Ortigas Center, Pasig City. I worked and waited for our pictures to get uploaded on Facebook. Memories of danggit made my stomach growl and Chemae’s, too. I wore a white shirt.

124 Days to Go:

We are two very quiet and shy individuals. Our blogs betray our true personality. She wrote an insulting message over YM and I sent an insulting reply to her cell phone. That night, I felt like I was in a loony bin. She made me realize something valuable by inventing a very convincing facebook story. I wore my black company shirt. It was a good shirt and quite comfortable. Continue reading

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Neverland: 129 Days to Go

 

 

I worked from 8:00 AM ’til 8:00 PM today. If I were in Canada or in Singapore, I’d be so filthy rich by now I’d have my own pad filled with PS3 and Xbox games, all the guy and geek magazines in the store, endless supplies of beer in my ref, and a siberian husky lapping at my ears.

But I’m in the Philippines so I have nothing.

I have a plan, though. A plan to get rich as quickly as possible or else risk losing the girl of my dreams. It’s a shoddy plan that involves transporting myself from the Philippines to Singapore and then to Canada as I’ve been saying quite repeatedly here in my ongoing countdown.

But before I start moving along with that plan, Chemae and I have to go through our tiny plan this weekend: a beach trip to Nagsasa Cove, Zambales. Continue reading

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Neverland: 130 Days to Go

Someday I might just write a letter to the makers of Red Horse and San Mig Light, thanking them for helping me do what I initially thought was impossible.

I haven’t slept for more than two days because my head is crunching too many thoughts. The infernal heat also has a lot to do with my endless turning in bed. Except for that, this day is ordinary.

Ordinary days like this are the ones that eat up so much time. It’s the kind of day that can be summarized as waking up, working, going home and sleeping. Before you know it, half the year is gone because of ordinary days like this. As for me, my routine won’t seem to change even if I have only 130 Days left before a part of me officially departs like the dead.

We had a little fight over my tendency to fool around when she’s saying something serious. The truth is I’m dead serious about this immigration matter, but my tendency to not plan in detail can be taken as inaction or passivity by her and other people. But really, I don’t have to prove myself. I have a plan in place but I can’t set it in motion right now because I am too focused on spending each moment with her. The future is dark for me, and there’s no doubt now that I will walk it, perhaps alone. But at least today, that’s a problem I will fuss about after my 130 Days are over. Continue reading

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