Set ‘em Ber!

Received an email from Mareng Cheche this afternoon. She says Kuya Mamert has begun drowning the office with Christmas songs, the way he usually does every first day of the so-called –ber months.

It’s almost like tradition by now.

And it means one thing: Christmas is just around the corner.

Huwat??? Nohhhh!!!

Getting Tagged and Tagging in Return

Ging tagged me and so now I choose you, eight lucky bloggers, to tag: A Mummy's Kitchen, The Anorexic Queen, iamrunningwaters, havepenwilltravel, queenzykee, seasonsgreetings, hqblog, Innovate

Simply copy and paste the following text in your blog and add eight bloggers you want to tag. Make sure the links show when you post it.

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presenting a meme from the queen's production:

Is your Technorati number a goner? Then in the spirit of 8 of 2008, let’s see if we could bring it back to life! I have randomly selected 8 bloggers below. Publish this post in your blog and tag 8 other bloggers by simply adding them on to the list. (Do not replace, just keep on adding! Yes let’s hope a long list!) It’s real easy! Tag others and see your Technorati Authority increase exponentially! And what are the benefits of Viral Linking?

- One of the fastest ways to see your Technorati Authority explode!;
- Increase your Google PageRank fast;
- Attract large volume of new traffic to your site.
- Build your community
- Make new friends!

And these are the people who already took part on this tag:Reyna Elena, Bluep, Kotsengkuba, Jojitah, Pusa, Malen, YoungCanCook, Chuva, Kengkay , Max Female Beauty, Ely, Manilenya, Vanidosa, Repah, Rhapsody, Sherliz, Fortuitous Faery, Bisdak Babbles, Princess Ody, Gingmaganda, GMirage, Celia Kusinera, LittleMsFirefly, Shiela, Battik, Sarah Grutas, IAmKaith, MeowbyKate, Maimed, Pamstr, JohnnyAnne , Journeyof Eros, A Mummy's Kitchen, The Anorexic Queen, iamrunningwaters, havepenwilltravel, queenzykee, seasonsgreetings, hqblog, Innovate

Nasaan ako nang sumikat ang Eraserheads?

Yesterday, the Eraserheads , the famous alternative Pinoy band of the 90s, the predecessor of other alternative bands like Yano, Parokya ni Edgar, Rivermaya, etc., reunited six years after it disbanded. It was a nostalgic moment for all of its loyal fans.

I somehow feel out of place where the Eraserheads hype is concerned. I know them, well, er, I know Ely Buendia but that’s nearly it. I am familiar with E-heads songs but I don’t know them by heart; I am sure to lose if it were the final song I have to sing in any The Singing Bee-like contest.

Gee, where the hell was I when the Eraserheads were at their prime?

I was in an all-girls Catholic school living my sheltered life as a sixth grader. Although the E-heads songs penetrated the holy walls of my school, I didn’t develop any outright fanaticism over them or their music. (I have to say, though, that Andrew E’s songs are yet another story. I could sing nearly the entire Humanap Ka ng Pangit album when I was in grade four. Yuck!)

But it was not the Eraserheads’ fault that they didn’t win me. It’s not them. It was me. (Nyak!) I have always been a passive kind of music lover. I am not in the habit of turning on the radio. The people around me were the ones who did that. Only when I hear certain songs do I realize that I love them.

We did, however, own Eraserheads cassette tapes. My dad happens to be adventurous when it comes to music so I wasn’t entirely ignorant of E-heads songs. However I am not sure if we have the Ultraelectromagneticpop! album. I seem to remember the songs Pare Ko, Toyang and Ligaya (all coming from the said album) being played in our component at home but I don’t recall seeing the Ultraelectromagneticpop! cover in our mini music libarary.

I am certain, though, that there is a Cutterpillow album at home. The album cover is more than familiar to me. Also, Ang Huling El Bimbo, one track in the Cutterpillow album, happened to be a favorite at home mainly because my then two-year-old brother, Mic, who enthusiastically sang along with it. He says “Aluman!” after he hears the intro “Kamukha mo si…” then exclaims “sumayaw” after “at ang galing galing mong…” (And so on and so forth.)

During my early years in college, I found myself in the company of one of the many Eraserheads fanatics in the person of my blocmate, Aloha. She often raved about the band and almost always swooned whenever she hears the name, “Ely Buendia.” Aloha filled me in with some juicy E-heads scoops which I deemed reliable, given that Aloha actually followed the band wherever their gig was.

Then again, I wouldn’t know Ely Buendia even if I bumped unto him at Megamall. And what do you know? I bumped unto him at Megamall, maybe not literally but you get what I mean.

It was the 2003 Octoberfest, my berks and I just punched out from our respective internship “shows.” We decided to check out the Octoberfest being held at the Megamall. I know, I know. Attending the October fest is not really in my character—one, I don’t drink and, two, I am not crazy over crowds. Thus explaining why I backed out of the “adventure.” That is, after allegedly bumping unto Ely Buendia.

My berks and I were lost in the ocean of Octoberfest attendees. We were stuck in something that resembled a queue in front of Megamall. Nikka, eager to get us out of oblivion, hoisted herself up on a trash can to get an eagle’s eye-view of the venue’s messy floor plan. She was talking to another berk, I think it was Luna, on her cellphone when she suddenly went nuts.

“T*ng ina!” She let out a stifled shriek. In between trickles of tears, she managed to explain, still in a stifled shock, that Ely Buendia, the guy she has loved since she was nearly a kid, was standing behind us.

I peeked, of course inconspicuously, and I thought, “Ay, sya pala si Ely. Gwapo pala siya sa personal!”

Meanwhile, Sarif, another berk was not contented on simply looking. She approached Ely. No effort was required really. All she had to do was to turn around. If she took one step, she’d be invading Ely’s personal space.

“Excuse me, ikaw ba si Ely Buendia?” She asked in the least annoying way she could muster.

The good-looking guy said no. (Aba, suplado!)

Sarif was persistent, “Papicture na lang po kami with you.”

Good-looking guy looked around as if checking on something. After hesitating for a second, he gave in, “Sige pero walang flash, ha.”



I went home with “Ely Buendia” saved on the digital camera inside my bag. And like any other star-struck non-celebrity, I boasted the picture to my family who were one in saying, “Bakit iba ang itsura? Hindi si Ely Buendia yan.”

Later, my friends who stayed until the end of the Octoberfest, told me that our “Ely Buendia” was the real thing. He even performed that night along with his new band, The Mongols. It was only a few weeks after when the Sunday Inquirer Magazine featured Ely and rest of The Mongols that my family believed that our “Ely” was the true Ely.

In another incident, I found myself as oblivious to an Eraserhead as I was to Ely.

It was past midnight. Sarif, my intern partner, and I were up and about in a small production company in Quezon City which was based inside a condo unit, turned office. We were completing a 24-hour shift by assisting the staff of the show in which we were assigned. The door bell went off, so Sarif and I, the two perky, young interns headed to the door to let the visitor in.

While leading the visitor to our Production Manager , Sarif whispered to me, “Hindi ba sya si Buddy?”

I thought, “Buddy who?”

As it turned out, the visitor we welcomed was Buddy Zabala, Eraserheads’ bassist. He wasn’t nearly as good-looking as Ely but from what I recently heard, he is one hell of a bassist.


My last E-heads encounter was less personal than the previous two I shared. In one of my National Bookstore sprees, I found an old copy of the book supposedly authored by the Eraserheads. I bought it for three reasons: It was edited by Jessica Zafra, the star on the cover looked cool, and it was on sale. After reading it, I realized that, man, sabog could pass as deep! I let Mic read it. I’m not sure if he did.

I believe that it’s never too late for me to hop on the E-heads bandwagon. After all, half of the Beatles were dead when I finally learned to appreciate and love them. But I’m alright where I, in relation to the Eraserheads' music, stand.

Then again, I felt bad upon hearing that Ely was rushed to the hospital after performing 15 songs last night. There was actually a slight pang of worry. Like we were close. Closer than our blurred picture taken five years ago.

Kapag Tumibok Ang Puso (Or maybe I can call it, "Be Still My Heart")

It’s not love. It’s palpitation.

It happens when a non-regular coffee drinker gulps a glass of strong ice-cold brewed coffee in one sitting, carries and swings a baby around, takes a stroll, and then goes down and up and down again to a series of steep flights of stairs (that is, minus the baby).

Of course the non-regular coffee drinker I am talking about is me. And the rest is part of today’s story.

Back to the palpitation, I felt every vein (or artery) in my body beat like crazy, my fingers where even trembling because of it. It was scary. I’m just lucky nothing burst. But I have to say the unflushed caffeine in my blood made me want to jump all around and it is keeping me alert up until now.

As a kid, I wasn’t allowed to drink coffee. It’s for adults, my parents would say. And I didn’t mind, anyway I’d rather have Ovaltine or Milo. It was only in college that I took flavored coffee—toffee, java, hazel nut, cappuccino, chocolate. But it was reserved for special occasions, all-nighters to be exact. It resulted in accomplished papers good enough to beat my deadlines. Coffee shops were starting to bloom in the small town of Los Baños then but since I was no coffee addict, I didn’t really visit those places. I did get one invite at KA (Kofiholics Anonymous) but I ordered juice.

At work, I drank coffee to save my extremely sleepy days. But I usually limited myself to half a mug of flavored instant coffee in those extremely sleepy days. (For the normal sleepy days, I just chat with my seatmates to stay awake.) I have never gotten over the bitterness of plain coffee so I remained loyal to the flavored ones. Plus plain coffee, including the instant kind, gave me headaches.

I am not a frequenter of commercial coffee shops populated by customers who, more often than not, may think of themselves as cool. It really isn’t easy for me to dish out P150 for a tall glass of frappe—one, because I am perennially on a tight budget, and two, because I’d rather spend that much money on regular food. I occasionally hang out at those shala coffee joints because they were secured establishments that kept me and my friends in even when it was past midnight.

Given my preferences, I never had the opportunity to become a coffee connoisseur. I don’t even think I will ever get mixing instant coffee, cream and sugar right. Therefore, memorizing those coffee jargons that flow smoothly out of some people’s mouth is close to impossible for me. For those instances when I seem to crave for “coffee,” I really am craving for sugar and whipped cream; the coffee itself may not be there and I wouldn’t even know it.

But today, I downed a glass of strong ice-cold brewed coffee in one sitting. It was probably one of the most bitter servings of coffee I’ve had in my life. Obviously it didn’t have the amount of sugar I normally prefer and there were no whipped cream on top either. But amazingly I liked that glass of Kopi-C mainly because of the ice. I didn’t lay it to rest until I finished the darn thing.

Of course it came with a price. My heart went palpitating as if I’ve found my true love. Lesson learned.

Note to self: Lie low from Kopi-C’s to avoid scary palpitations. Reserve the crazy heart throb for love.

A Day in the Life of a Blogger

My blog entries usually come in their titles first. I find myself in a certain situation, if not imagine it, then poof! A title is born.

I would know if that title will develop a body when it wouldn’t leave me in peace. When it bugs me like a persistent kid asking its mommy for a cone of ice cream. Just like how this post wouldn’t allow me to go to sleep.

But today, my title did not come solo. For every segment of the day, a title came popping inside my head.

The first one was “What if they kill each other?” It was supposed to contain my thoughts on how people, who never get along and are most likely to bring their feud to their graves, may kill each other when deprived of a “referee.”

Then I thought, I might sound too morbid and people may once again forget that I tend to exaggerate thus leading to trouble. So I modified my title to, “What if all hell breaks loose?” This would have explored the same “story” but will definitely be attacked on a more general and vague manner.

The third title was “Stuck on Sad.” These two S-words frighten the wits out of me. I don’t want to feel stuck or sad. Being “stuck on sad” will most definitely be a whole new tragic story.

“Smells like PCMC” was the fourth title in mind. Obviously it had a lot to do with me smelling the signature sterilized stench of PCMC today whereas I am a plane ride away from it. More than a year after Nichi left, I still find it a bit difficult to get the thought of a regular overnight stay in his hospital out of my system. After all, PCMC had become a second home not only to Nichi but also to the rest of our family. And even harder than that, I still find it odd how life nowadays have become more complicated and somehow less rewarding.

The fifth title would be, “First was the Vendo.” I am not entirely sure how many people out there are like me, one who strongly distrust vending machines. I have never bought anything from a vending machine before, not until recently when I risked 10 cents for a cup of Milo. I’ve wrestled with the ticket machine at the LRT2 because that was the only way to purchase a card. Next to Vendos I find online purchasing eternally suspicious, thereby explaining why I haven’t done such transactions before, not until tonight only to suffer a serious wave of panic and paranoia a few clicks after. (This may partly be the reason why I can hardly sleep right now. Screw the involved company's system!)

“Why does it have to happen to me?” would be my sixth title. Simple explanation: It’s something I muttered out of exasperation more than once today. And the glitch in my (hopefully) failed online purchase is one stimulus for such frustrated sigh.

But the title that covered them all is the one you see on top. “A Day in the Life of a Blogger.” Instead of recounting how my day went by, I chose to relate how this post came to be. Because this is my day’s story as THE blogger.

A Cleaner Slate—Did you notice?

Yesterday, Kate called my attention regarding my super slow blog site. My blog is normally slow but it isn’t SUPER slow. Well, not until yesterday.

I attribute the normal slowness of my blog to my backgrounds and banners. I may have also overdone the widgets at my side bar. It’s just that I wanted my blog to feature fun widgets, show off badges, record guests and their comments, enlist a blog roll, and display buttons that would potentially bring in money to my site.

But then a bug or perhaps a megabyte overload is screwing up with my blog’s system, hence the problem.

I can only do so much with my beginner’s understanding of HTML and its magic. So the immediate solution I could come up with was to reduce the size of all design elements on my blog and, although I hated to do it, make do with a static welcome banner as compared to the formerly animated one. But since that was not enough, I had to let go of some widgets, too. I did keep my “tools for the workshop” though for my own “consumption.” I benefit from the word-of-the-day feed. I replaced with a linked photo the embedded video of Project: Brave Kids, the cause I would have liked to support as much as I can. Eventually I also had to discard several of my “business” buttons, including the Firefox download button from Google Adsense. I was really tempted to remove my Adsense box altogether since I barely earned anything from it. I decided to eliminate the ads in between my posts instead. I’ll reserve my Adsense’ fate for later.

My blog seems to be loading faster now. By “faster” I mean, not SUPER slow, but slow nonetheless. If an expert is reading this now, I will appreciate any troubleshooting advice from you.

Three good things that came out of it though are as follows: One, my torn sheet of paper for my background is cleaner than it was before (I cleaned up most of the water stains); two, my side bar is less cluttered; and three, I don’t feel much like a sell out now that the non-earning “business” buttons are gone.

Little Miss Workin'

It is not easy to admit that I miss work, working and having to work.

I miss dragging myself to the office, fussing over the pile of things to do, stressing over work-related problems, feeling trapped behind my desk.

I miss worrying about things that don’t concern me, carrying out responsibilities I can live without, eluding labor monotony by taking the day off, counting hours and checks on my list of things to do.

I miss work-related discussions which sometimes sounds geeky, in the office sense. Moreover, I miss chatting with officemates about whatnots not nearly related to the things we do. I miss the laughing and snickering that ultimately break the ennui.

I guess, what I am saying is, I miss having a reason to go about my day, other than personal ones. I miss the things that, in their own subtle way, take my mind off “me”. I miss the thrill of hurdling challenges no matter how trivial they may be to my life. I miss looking forward to more exciting things up ahead of me.

I miss discovering that I can be less self-absorbed than I usually am. I miss accomplishing tasks expected from me. I miss having a reason for a satisfying, well-deserved break. I miss celebrating “freedom” after a productive day.

I miss talks that stimulate my brain. I miss conversations that nurture the social being in me. I miss the company of new-found friends at work that makes my day less labor-like than it really is.

It is hard to believe now, but I’d say it again. I miss work, working and having to work.

I don’t feel complete being a bum.