Tomorrow night, I'm having dinner with my highschool classmates, those who are in Manila, at least. Everytime I am around our out with these guys, a mix of emotions all come rushing back, most of them not good (Sorry guys, nothing personal. I'm sure you all understand teenagers -- we were all one once.)

I guess I was in what you'd call a "crisis," one where you never really know where you are or what direction you're going; you don't know the persons you walk and talk with even after 4 years of sitting next to them in class; you don't know whether to fit in or to stand out (or even regress into the background), and you try so hard to do either or all of the above that you trip all over yourself and you just end up being embarrassed.

That's what I was and that was how I felt in high school. Sometimes I was compelled to fit in, strutting with the popular guys. Laughing when they laughed, cheering when they cheered. I even bought a couple Giordano Classics shirts because anybody with a sense of fashion was wearing it.

And the truth is, I never really got anywhere with all that trying. So throughout my high school life, I decided not to try. I didn't hang out with cool or more popular classmates. I didn't aim for A's. I kept away from the limelight as much as I could, rarely volunteering for anything. The closest thing to anything resembling fame was becoming a member of the High School Baseball varsity, and even that didn't get too much attention.

I underachieved.

No, I don't blame my classmates for me wallowing near the bedrock of mediocrity. It was my choice. It was my interpretation of events, of the signs that pointed the way out of high school. Just like a real spy -- lay low, be wary of your sorroundings, know where exits are, and in situations of extreme duress, disappear. I was very good at that.

I submitted myself to be the role player in a team of superstars. That was my high school journey.

I changed all that in college. I had more friends. A girlfriend. I was an officer in our college org. I played college baseball. I played in a band. In my little world, I was the superstar. I had reached a whole new level of self, and I owe it all to the weirdness I put myself through in high school. I experienced so much more, because I didn't put myself through something I knew was difficult to handle then, but in college, I knew I was more than ready to take all the responsibility and hardships and attention. I stepped up then, transforming me into who I am now.

So there. Thus all the apprehension for these reunions. I fear I will revert back to those ways, to relive high school again. Though it never shows in the exterior, my mind is racing through all those memories where I sit back and just watched my life be molded by others. That part of my life almost disattached, hanging only on threads of real friendship and sincerity. But despite all doubts and apprehensions, I take part and look forward to seeing them still.

My former classmates are still my friends. And it is now that I cherish their company the most.

September so far hasn't let up. It feels like it's now 2 months in the running, they way work has been piling up. And this is just on the first 2 weeks. It has taken its toll in the form of two separate sick leaves (two days a week apart), and missing Beegee's birthday bash at the Discovery Suites last Saurday. I was really looking forward to that one, except my body had other plans. I had no choice but to rest.

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At least, in spite of the craziness at work, I have plenty of things to look forward to this week and the next. It's like that now, my days are passing by too fast for me to plan them hour by hour, I've decided to spread them out week by week. I'm going out with my high school friends this friday, I'm subscribing to a DSL service (or hopefully call someone to talk me into it), and next week, Caren's birthday, and I'll be ordering Cagayan de Oro's finest lechon!

Of course, I have to shove a couple weeks worth of training sessions at work in between all the fun.

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I was texting with Gio yesterday, trying to come up with at least a half-wit plan for Friday, and somehow Bananas got into the conversation. It sounded funny, so I asked him to blog about it. So far he hasn't complied yet. You should check out how he writes. Entertaining stuff.

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I'm going to try to do the High Fidelity thing and come up with an all-time top 5 list of everything and anything -- perfect for me, the guy who whines about everything AND anything. It's time I did some self-exploration and see if I can identify the things that have stirred my glass for as far back as I can remember. Does it hurt to look at life objectively? I don't know. Does it hurt to look at life at all. Yes, a bit. But that's the whole point of it, isn't it?

Try it. Type the word Filipna in any search engine, and the winner by miles and miles would be --

Filipina brides! 100% docile and domesticated! Order one now!

Now how sick is that? Makes you want to karate-chop to death those awful foreigners looking for mail-order brides.

Many Internet businessmen have abused the power of Google and the technology of personalized searching, selling away and diminishing the image of the Filipina to a mere object you can buy online.

I am now on a roll on the the road of advocacy. First poverty, and now the redefining of the tarnished Filipina image. How can we help? audienceone has beautifully explained it all on his blog. Or just grab one of the link buttons

 

on his post regarding the plight of the Filipina, and display it on your blog or website. Or you can do it the simple way -- bomb your site with the Filipina word, so when search engines look up Filipina, they'll bring the searcher to your website or to aPro-Filipina movement online newsletter, instead of directing them to all that Internet smut.

So here's my contribution to the movement --
Filipina Filipina Filipina Filipina Filipina and Filipina.

I tell you this advocacy stuff feels great.

It has always been a nagging thought at the back of my mind - finding a way to make a difference. Certainly, making a blog is not one of those ways? I don't know. I think it is. Many people have altered and revolutionized the way the Internet is supposed to be used. An online diary! Now why didn't think of that?

But like I previously posted, I don't want to be famous because of blogging. I, however, want to contribute, there's a difference. A significant contribution, one that goes a long way. And then, while browsing through mungkey's blog, I noticed the way cool ribbon you now see on the top right corner of my site.

MakePovertyHistory.org is pushing for the changes to help alleviate the alarming conditions of poverty throughout the world. Now I am not a rich man, and can barely support myself, so what can I do? WHAT I CAN, of course. Help spread the word, chip in to the effort, PRAY.

I mean, 30,000 children dying because of poverty. EVERY DAY. If that doesn't make you sad just yet, think of your own children, born or unborn. No child, no PERSON deserves to go hungry. So let's do something about it. Help spread the word. Be aware.

When I get off work, I'm going to go look for that white band. Not only does it look cool, I get to help people. This is something I really want to get serious about. I've never been an advocate for any cause, not publicly nor strongly, but I believe it's the right time, and I think this is the right cause. I also urge you to at least take a look at the website. Please help save more than 800 million lives.

My throat hurts. My body aches in parts. My nose is doing it's best impression of that reindeer's who's usually popular during Christmas season. On top of that, this cold has got me snuffling like a drug addict. It's driving me nuts.

I hate being sick. I had to drink 2 nibs of Advil and those knockout pills that're supposed to relieve you of sore throat and phlegm, instead they made me sleep for 11 hours, and more importantly, made me miss my Sunday basketball workout. The f--! I always look forward to basketball, but this time my body said no. It sure has a funny way of telling us that we need rest or that we're overexerting just a little bit. I mean, there shoul be an alarm that beeps if you've been working too hard, or staying up too late, or have had too much potato chips and ice cream. Everyday on TV, I see that ad for multivitamins, catchy slogan and all -

"Bawal magkasakit."

If that were a real law, everybody'd be in jail, and I'd be an ex-convict 9 times over. The cons of having a work schedule with rotating shifts has done me in. I've worked nights for too long that I've screwed my body clock over.

I have to admit, however, that I guess I've overused this magnificent specimen of a body (after my friends read this, they'll all be laughing till they die).Sleep about 6 hours on the average, delayed eating shcedules, sports, inclement weather, the works. Problem is, I never usually listen. I like going all out, no matter how tired or sleepy or lazy I am, I try to go and take the opportunities the day presents. Carpe Diem on steriods. All the time in the world, and we sleep 8-10 hours away a day.

Gosh golly darn. I really am sick. In the head. I've got to stop torturing myself, get myself some rest, get healthy. Else I might get something worse than a cold. I love my magnificent specimen of a body(Hahahaha! Even I can't help but laugh at this. What a joke.), I gotta start treating it right. And if I think about it, my getting sick is really the bell alarm that I was ranting about earlier. It's the warning to correct a potentially dangerous situation.

Heck, I have a doctor for a cousin! You'd better check me up Gio. Make me better, and I'll redesign your blog as payment. Or give you guitar lessons, or tour you around Manila, or, or, or...

This is one of the poems/lyrics I wrote during my, er, "melancholic" moments. Those are long gone, I think. :P

No matter the situation (and believe me I am a very happy person right now), I've been writing about areas like these. So don't mind me.

I decided to take down my picture from the sidebar, and replace it with a long, useless rant that I wouldn't really allow myself to post on Friendster (too a-cry-for-help type of thing, I think). So there, if people want a picture, there's Friendster. I would rather have people want to visit my blog because they're wondering what I'm going to write next, rather than come here to look at my picture (which, by the way, is a very conceited comment from me. Please ignore it.).

Not only have I removed my picture, I've also removed my name and address. Wouldn't you find it weird if people came knocking at your door because you wrote some blog you started as a de-stressing tool? (Again, another conceited comment. I'm on a roll.)

I don't want to be famous... but that's not quite true. Everyone surely has his or her own illusions of grandeur. I want to be a rockstar, but not quite. Why? I like a quiet life, away from attention, the way it was in high school. I just stood in the background, and I blended with the walls. I could've hidden behind a potted plant and no one would notice. Sure I had friends, but I got comfortable only with a few. No one could really figure me out. Our high school yearbook staff came up with this gimmick where someone in your class would write about you, and it would come out in the yearbook with your picture on it. Mine came with a lot of blank words ("Uhm, er, uh, hmmm... yeah. He's a nice guy. There's not much I can really say about him. He fits in, doesn't stand out. Good kid. Yadda yadda."). With no ill will intended to whoever wrote it, I always find it funny.

Again, I'm not sure where I'm going with this, so I'll finish this off. With all my grand plans of affecting planetary trajectory and contributing to the daily content (*cough* garbage) circulating on the Internet, I still want to maintain some degree of simplicity and privacy to a very hectic and turmoiled life (self-loathing mode). I mean a very happy and satisfied one. I'm one happy customer. Really.

... and I'm saying this even with clouds hanging low from the heavenly rafters. I swear, a lazy one just passed right by our 35th floor window. It's just so bright I'm squinting. Working the night shift for 10 straight months has really taken its toll on my eyesight, and my entire system for that matter. I don't even know if my biological clock is set right anymore. Life is now skewed. S-k-e-w-e-d. Not screwed. That's different.

So I am literally coming out of the darkness and into the light. I am a morning person again -- a VERY EARLY morning person. 4AM shift. Which is not so bad, considering I get off at 1 or 2pm. Plenty of time to do stuff, go places. Plenty of time for myself. I can pick up my girlfriend again like any normal boyfriend should!

Normal for two months. Wattalife.

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My head is a mess right now. There is so much I want to say, yet the words in my head just can't seem to find their way to my fingers. And when I realize that, my brain suddenly flatlines. There... it goes... again...

I've to go now. Mustn't waste the daylight.

...an interesting, funny, and must-read blog today. Setting Her Free talks about one of the most discussed topics over beer -- a certain Girl. (This ranks right up there with Basketball, foot fetishes, and food... but I'm sure most would beg to differ. Including me.)

Anyway, I recommend that you check it out, and make sure to read it from the very first post. This is the blogger version of the personal experiences of practically 85% (give or take) of the male population. Worldwide. Yes ladies. We stutter and stammer when we look into your eyes because they're very pretty (others might use a different version of this gimmick). So give us a break.

This blog has quite a following. I'm sure if this guy doesn't make it, they're going to start a relief fund or something. Still don't know what I'm talking about? That's because you're still here and not checking it out! Come back later.

If the link doesn't work, paste this link

http://settingherfree.blogspot.com/

in your browser, or find it in my Link'd Blogs menu
(somewhere over there --->).

September 1. I somehow feel inclined to write an entry today for my loyal readers out there (all 2 of them). Just because it's September 1. I'm only too happy to oblige (my readers will be ecstatic).

Again I'm fighting the urge to write about that co-worker of mine that pisses me off. I keep telling myself that he does not deserve my attention, but here I am ranting about him. So let's bury this topic (and him along with it).

"Ber" months are here again. And I can still remember our last office christmas party and the food I ate that day. I'm just thinking how time has really flown. August just went zip. I snapped my fingers and it's gone. I've been really busy with work, trying to finish the trainings and all the documentation required of me (a grudging price just for me to work in the morning shift again). In between those gaps I've been working on my daily tasks. When I get home I just sleep the vacant hours I have away, and wake up again to go to work. On the weekends I try to spend as much time with Caren, go to my basketball games, go to church, and spend my alone time. What an August.

I feel a vacation is needed soon. I figure, maybe in a couple of months.

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I received an enriching e-mail from a friend today. Gayle has included me in her list of 7 people that she will pray for, an activity their church started. It feels good knowing that someone will be praying for me. I need all the prayers that I can get. I've decided on starting my own list too. Sort of like a Pay It Forward thing. Instead of the people I usually pray for (actually generalized in a short list, but I gotta stop doing that), I'm shooting for someone I know who actually needs all the holy intervention they can get. And you know what? I've come up with 7 in less than a minute. I happen to know some very needy people, God bless them.