Friday Night Fever

Last night, I did something I hadn't done for a while. I went out for drinks. By myself. Kind of. Lannie, Ivy's 20-year-old niece, mentioned that she was gonna go bar-hopping with her boyfriend and some and some of her girlfriends. She also said that I was welcome to join. I didn't say anything at the time.

I was totally unsure about going. I couldn't really picture myself hanging around with peeps 10 years younger than me. It seemd kinda awkward. In the end, I said 'screw it' and decided to go.

The night was so complex, that it deserves three Acts. Here we go:

ACT ONE:

I arrived at the bar, which was totally packed. I started looking for Lannie and found Valy instead. I think I've mentioned Valy before, but I allow me a moment to tell you a little more about me and her.

I've known Valy for a few years now. My sister mentioned she had some sort of crush on me at the beginning -and she is quite the cutie- but two things prevented anthing from happening. First of all, I was in a relationship. On top of that, she was my sister Abby 's friend, and my sister is famous for disliking any advances made toward her friends. So nothing happened. All we had was a bit of flirting from time to time.

Finding myself in the singles' scene once more, I felt it was time to see if anything could happen between Valy and me. However, it started to feel like all she did was toy with me. So much so that I decided to cut her off from my life completely. I erased her phone number and email from my address book, and deleted her from my IM client.

So, I hadn't spoken to Valy for about a month until I ran into her at the bar. She seemed totally excited to see me, and even left her friends to come over to talk to me. I kid you not, we were standing about six inches from each other. I felt some really cool vibes going on. There was playful punching and stuff. She kept insisting we should have lunch together next week. But just when I was totally sure I was getting somewhere, she said, 'I've just started going out with somebody. I'm so happy!!'

Well that felt like a bucket of chilly water had been dumped on my head. I tried somewhat unsuccesfully to conceal my embarrasment. She still mentioned something about me being invited to join her and her friends at their table. I thanked her and exited the bar as soon as she was out of sight.

I remember thinking how my night had been ruined in less than five minutes.

ACT TWO:

After walking a good while, I finally found Lannie and her friends at another bar. Apparently they had decided to switch venues after the first one was totally packed. They asked me to join them at their table. And then, something funny happened. She introduced me as... her uncle.

I must explain something here. Although a few times I've referred to Lannie as 'my niece', I must admit to some sort of incestuous feelings towards her. Yeah, the most moronic, retarded side of me kept hoping that she and I could eventually become an item. After all, she is one of the hottest, cutest and nicest girls I know. Of course, this was totally unthinkable back when Ivy was around, but now it seemed as something that could in fact happen someday. Of course, she'd have to forget that I was about to become her uncle, she'd have to not mind the fact that I'm 10 years older than her, and she'd have to settle for a lot less than her usual pick of boyfriends: rich and handsome.

Absurd as it was, that fantasy was very dear to me. It made me believe that somebody as gorgeous and nice as her could even consider me as a suitable mate.

But all that went out the window when she introduced me as HER UNCLE. A relative. And you don't go out with relatives. They just don't exist. They might as well be gay.
Crap.

ACT THREE:

As I was sitting amongst a table full of youngsters, I managed to catch a glimpse of a girl sitting on the restaurant across the street. It was Olly. I decided to go say hi. But then, as I was approaching her, I noticed she wasn't alone. A really huge and well dressed man had taken the empty chair at the table. Boy, that was awkward.

EPILOGUE:

I think I'll have to wait till my ego grows back before attempting to go out again.
It could be a while.

Everybody needs one

I have a few special friends. When I say 'special', I mean to say that they're like no other people I know. Really.

Take Louie, for instance. He has the mind of a child. Think Forrest Gump. He is a 30 year old man with the mind of a 14 year old. While most men are accused of being exactly like that, Louie REALLY IS that way. He is truly fascinated by decals, buttons and all sorts of toys. He loves cartoons and trucks. He is totally impulsive and wild, always full of energy and joy.

He is not wise, nor vane. He doesn't know what double entendres are. But that guy loves people fully. He is so quirky, he always cheers me up even when I'm totally down. He lights up my darkest days.

I love that wacky guy. I dunno what I'd do without him.

Could I get a hug?

Have I told you about this?

I've been reduced to ask people to hug me and hold me for a few minutes.
I feel so, so pathetic.

Six months

It's been six months since Ivy went away.
I still haven't forgotten you, my sweet.

Don't do it

Have you ever sneezed into a fan?
Bad idea. Unless you love your face covered in a yucky mist.

Could I possibly had gotten it wrong?

I kissed a girl for the first time at 23. I didn't have my first girlfriend till I was 24.

Talk about lame, right? I can trace it all back when my friends starting going out with chicks at 14. We started going out to parties. But while everybody managed to get women to dance with them, and managed to get phone numbers galore, I always came up with zilch.

It feels as if I went to the same party over and over.

When I arrived, I'd ask a few girls if they wanted to dance. Some actually did. But then, I wouldn't know what to say to them. When I did manage to muster up the courage to say something, the music would drown it out. So it was just me and her, standing in the dance floor, dancing and not talking. So awkward. Then the song would end and each would go our own separate ways.

But as boring and frustrating as that was, it was less pathetic and soul-deadening than just sitting at a table all by myself, staring at a glass of Coke and pretending not to be the most miserable guy there. It was just so depressing. I would sit there and supposedly scan the dancefloor for girls to dance with. Actually I was looking for girls who wouldn't turn me down so harshly. Because they did. Hundreds of times.

I guess that's when my self-confidence got crushed to a pulp. Oh, and the self-loathing? It began about there too.

Looking back, it doesn't make sense. If I was so miserable, why didn't I just stop going to parties? Maybe 'cause I sensed that staying at home all the time was gonna be even worse.

My friends look back fondly on those times. But to me, it was akin to having my skin pulled from my body with tweezers.

Say it with music

Isn't it funny how you sometimes stumble upon a song that says EXACTLY how you feel?
And it usually is the song you least expect. Like some 80's power ballad:

-------------
I gotta take a little time
A little time to think things over
I better read between the lines
In case I need it when Im older

Now this mountain I must climb
Feels like a world upon my shoulders
I through the clouds I see love shine
It keeps me warm as life grows colder

In my life theres been heartache and pain
I dont know if I can face it again
Cant stop now, Ive traveled so far
To change this lonely life

I wanna know what love is
I want you to show me
I wanna feel what love is
I know you can show me

(I Want To Know What Love Is, Foreigner)
------------

It's like they're talking about me! Only they're not. But it feels as if they were.

I wonder, I wonder...

I wonder, I wonder... was Ivy the only girl for me? Or is there somebody else out there? If so, where is she right now? Do I know her already? Do I still have to meet her? What does she look like? How old is she? Will she meet my silly profile? Or will she be totally opposite? How long will I have to wait till we become an item? Will it be a whirlwind romance? Will it be step-by-step?

I wonder, I wonder... will I ever get married? Will I ever manage to convince another woman that I'm right for her? That joining her life with mine will be for the best?

I wonder, I wonder... will I ever be a dad? If so, how long till I hold my first newborn in my arms? Will I be a good dad?

So many questions... nothing to do but wait for the answers to come on their own.

Up against the clock

I remember when Ivy would say that she was an old woman... at 26. I used to laugh out loud. I told her that as long as she got married before she was 29, everything would be OK.

Now I'm about to turn 30 and I suddenly feel... anxious. I feel old. I feel that my life is almost over, and that I have wasted it fully. It feels like it's too late to do anything. Too late to graduate, to late to get a good job, too late to learn German, to start snowboarding, etc.

But the thing is, whenever I tell people how I feel, they come back with something like 'you got your whole life ahead of you', and 'you're still young'. Maybe I asking my 83-year-old granny is not a good idea.

I just thought of this

My dad died at 65. I am almost 30 now. If I can expect to have about the same lifespan, that means I have reached the middle of my life! So then this is nothing more than a mid-life crisis!! Aw, that makes so much sense. I feel a lot better now.

Got the blues

I am at a point where nothing feels right. I am in the most ego-centric state ever. Right now, all I can see is a wall in front of me. Ok, that's a bad metaphor, since I DO have a wall in front of me as I type this. But you get my drift.

I know I should move forward. I know it. But still...

Take my birthday, for instance. In November, I'm turning 30. The big 3-0. That's a big deal, right??

I used to get excited about it. Nowdays it's just depressing.

See, I am reaching an age where most people have a degree, a wife, and a big-ass job with a promising future.

What do I have? None of the above.

You know my girl troubles. We can skip that for now.

I am STILL striving to get my degree. Sometimes I wonder if it's even worth it to dump so much time and money into it. I guess I only do it because it would be foolish to drop it when I'm so freaking close. Plus, it would make my family really happy if I had a diploma. But this whole thing is making me feel really down. You see, even if I graduated RIGHT NOW, this very instant, I am SIX years overdue. Every single one of my peers has graduated.

Now you can say that it doesn't matter, that it isn't a horserace. But let's be honest. Which one would you hire: a designer who finished his career in 5 years, or one who finished his in 11??

Let's forget about that for a minute. Let's see where I am right now. I hold two jobs, none of which pay enough, and none of them are really stimulating . At least I'm working as a designer. But where is that taking me? None of my jobs has any chance for improvement. No raises, nothing. As long as I'm working there, I will remain earning and doing the same. Some call that stability and security. I call that utter boredom and creative death.

Now, we wait

After four grueling months, I finished 30% of my graduation project. Hope it gets a good grade, so that would mean I could do the rest next semester. Right now, there's nothing left but waiting.

Sorry for the delay guys

I've been waiting for the end of my hiatus in the portrait-drawing business.. but it seems it will definitely have to wait another week, 'cause it's Finals Week and I am totally swamped with stuff to do.

But after May 11th, I'm back, baby!

Alone, so alone

Gosh, I feel lonely. I wish some of my friends would call me. But very few do. Of course, I could call them (in fact, I have) but that's not the point, right? It seems as though it is always my obligation to call people, to visit them, to organize get-togethers. Don't they feel the need to see me too?? Guess not.

I don't gripe anymore

I have decided to stop moping around people. Not because I don't feel the need to, but because I have just exhausted everyone who has been foolish enough to listen to my pathos-soaked ramblings.

I don't blame them. If I had a friend that just talked about his dead fiance over and over, I would be running from him like if he had SARS. It's boring, and it's taxing. You can only take so much.

Even Ivy's parents seem to wish they weren't reminded of her all the time. I have to move on, I guess. But I don't really want to. It's been five months and I still want to look at the pictures and read her mails and her cards. I don't want to forget! It seems like a way to kill her all over again. It's just not fair.

I wonder

I wonder what would Ivy be doing if it had been the other way around? What would she be doing if I had died? Would she be moping for me still? Would she be looking for somebody else already? I don't think so. Who knows.

Being alive makes me angry

It's just not fair. Why not me? Why? If one of us had to die, it should've been me. She was a very sweet, loving girl. She didn't deserve to die amidst so much pain. She should be here. She earned it, dammit. She did everything her frigging doctors told her to do. She dieted, she exercised. It was no use: she died anyway.

And in the meantime, I live. I, who seldom exercises, who never skips a meal... I, who never does anything right... I am still here. It's just stupid. It makes no sense.

The worse thing about it is having to move on. I don't want to!! Not only do I refuse to go forward, but I want to go backward! I want go back to a time when I could hold my pretty girl in my arms once more. I want got back so I could hear her tell me that she loved me... nobody will ever love me like she did.

"It hurts, it hurts!!"

I remember when she was struggling near the end, with horrible stomach cramps. Why couldn't it be a little less painful why? Why? It was almost as if she was being punished or something. Why? Whatever did she do to deserve this??

The future Mrs. Kz

I keep thinking about it all the time. How will I meet my future wife? Is she gonna be my next girlfriend? Or the one after that? And will she fill the profile?

Oh, 'cause I got a profile. Any girl who's willing to take Ivy's position as Official LoveMate better be ready to meet very high standards:

*20-24 years old
*1.58-1.63 cms tall.
*slender
*beautiful (but not too beautiful)
*Catholic
*middle class or higher
*college education
*appearance-conscious
*hygenically inclined
*must love kids
*must live no more than 10 miles from my place
*single

Seems shallow, I know. But I have my reasons. Allow me to explain:

*20-24 years old: After a certain age, women are more likely to notice they can live perfectly fine without me. But if you get them young enough, you can fool them into thinking you're essencial for their survival.
*1.58-1.63 cms tall: Women of scant stature can be very lovely, but I've noticed I never seem to think of them as grown-up women. They seem like little girls, which it feels kind of pedophilic. On the other hand, girls who are taller than me always seem to be older, which feels kind of Aedipus-ish.
*slender: I have always loved athletic women. They look so... good...
*beautiful (but not too beautiful): Do I need to explain this one??
*Catholic: Life is tough enough without having to decide what church to go to.
*middle class or higher: Interclass marriage is something you do at your own risk. Seen enough cases to know that I should avoid it at all costs.
*college education: I want a mental peer. Somebody who will get my jokes without having to explain every single one. In a word: cultured.
*appearance-conscious: Nobody likes a total slob.
*must love kids: This is my theory: any woman who's willing to stand a 3-year-old child will have enough patience to stand being with me.
*must live no more than 10 miles from my place: I don't want to have to spend half a gas tank just to go see her.
*single: I am just not looking forward to marrying a girl with kids and some wacko ex-husband running around.

Seem like impossibly-high standards?
Not to me. I mean, Ivy fit the profile like a glove.

This doesn't mean I want another Ivy. That's impossible. She was totally unique and no one will ever be like she was. I just want a girl who has the highest amount of the same good traits that Ivy had.

And in my book, that's not too much to ask.

Changes, changes...

One of the big changes I plan to make is to quit my job at Lexcorp for good. After five years, I'm ready. I want to have a lot of free time, improve myself a bit. I want to become an illustrator for real. I want to work out at the gym. Heck, I'm a bachelor and I don't have any kids. I can afford a few months of unemployment. It wouldn't be total unemployment, either. I want to keep working at Culture Publishing House. It'll help pay the bills.

I'm totally pumped about this. Quitting sounds so good.

What's on my mind

I decided to postpone the monthly visit to Ivy's grave so I could work on my portfolio. I'll go next week. I have considered stopping my visits, but no. I think a promise is a promise. I mean, she withstood my 'marvelous' company for five long years, she deserves at least this.

Looking back

God, it seems like it was ages ago, the last time I held Ivy in my arms. And it's only been five months! I try to keep her out of my mind as long as possible, 'cause any thought in that direction will halt my life to a complete stop. But it was beautiful. It really was. Never did I have to worry about her doing stuff behind my back. And she trusted me so completely, it almost scared me. And we were gonna have so many beautiful things: a life together, kids... everything is gone now.

Looking ahead

I want to believe that there is something further down the road for me. I want to believe that I am not totally repulsive or useless. But I recognize that I will have to work out and make heavy lifestyle changes, soon. I have to see a doctor, get some exercise. Maybe see a therapist. Get my friggin' degree. I have to be the best man I can be. Otherwise, I will not get the kind of mate that I long for.

Not looking at all

But, then again, there are moments when you shouldn't look in any direction at all. Just savor the moment as you live it.

Five years ago

A little more than five years ago, I was at the gym and got onto one of those walking machines. There was a girl on the next machine and I said hi to her, but didn't answer. I thought she was the rudest girl ever and got real mad. But when I was about to leave, I saw her again at the stationary bicycle. Our eyes met, and instinctively, I smiled. She smiled back and waved. I thought maybe maybe she wasn't so rude after all.

The next day, I went ahead and talked to her and we became great friends. We would schedule our workouts so we would do them together. She would call me her 'gym buddy' and we had really cool conversations. Eventually I got some nerved and asked for her number. Then we started to talk even more.

Our first date was difficult to come by. We were supposed to go to the movies one Saturday, but when I called she had left on a family trip. When I confronted her, she admitted forgetting about our date and was totally mortified. We rescheduled, but she forgot again and left on another family trip. I decided to give her a last chance. We went to the movies and had a great time. She even let me hold her hand. I tried to sneak a kiss out of her, but she wouldn't do it. She didn't push me away. Instead, she held my head very tight, like saying, "Please, let's do this right... let's be boyfriend and girlfriend first."

The next day I went on a week-long trip with some buddies. Two days into the trip, I realized that I really REALLY liked this girl. And I got really sad and wanted to go back right then and there, but we were 1000 miles away, so I had to wait till the trip was over. The first thing I did after I came back was go see her. I didn't even see my family till a couple of hours later, even though we lived in the same house.

That was on a Tuesday. That very Saturday, we went out and I (grudgingly) asked her to be my girlfriend. I didn't really want to ask, because I wasn't into formalities. But she totally was into them, so I had no choice. :)

Immediately afterwards we had our very first kiss. It was a quick one, but it was really nice. And that's how it all started.

That was exactly five years ago this day.

My sweet, sweet Ivy, I will never forget you.

Illustration workshop

When I heard a friend of mine was going to an illustration workshop, I totally tagged along. First of all, it was free. Second, it was over at Moneybags University, which has some of the most gorgeous girls in Kzanderland. Third, it gave me the opportunity to hang out with him after not seeing him for a month and a half (dunno the exact amount, but that sounds about right).

The workshop was nice. It was given by a lady who happens to be a big shot Art Director at Oxford University. But she was a very gentle woman, not filled with dellusions of gradeur, as I would be in her place.

I don't think I learned that much new techniques, but I got to see some really rad children's books, which I really love cause they always have the best illustrations. Plus, I got to draw, which relaxed me a bit.

I will post the drawings I made at the workshop as soon as I can. I made them in about 20 minutes, so set your expectations accordingly.

This is promises to be a craptabulous day

My sister gets her second dose of chemo today and she has to stay at the hospital for three days (again). Plus, I have to go meet a guy who's gonna help me send some polls that'll help me with my investigation. And I have to go to school.

Did I mention I didn't sleep very well? No? Sorry, I must've forgot. You see, I haven't been sleeping well.

It's almost that time of year...

This Friday, the 21st, Ivy and I were to be married, on our 5th anniversary.

I know. I can almost feel depression sweeping in.

About an hour ago, I called my mother-in-law and had a good cry.
This is just... so... hard.

(snif) I need a hug. Or two. Big ones.

Name that tune!!

Ok, now maybe you guys would be so kind as to help me find the title of this little tune. (1.3 MB WAV file)

I am almost sure it was a 60's or 70's TV show theme or a movie soundtrack.
I think it's either a Morricone or Alpert tune, but so far no luck.

Got a bald sister

My sister Abby decided to chop off all of her hair before more of it fell out.

Wow.

It is shocking, lemme tell you. It's like a scene out of THX 1138, that obscure George Lucas film where everybody had their heads shaved, even the women.

I hate termites

This house is forever filled up with termites. Around this time of year, they come out of wherever they are hiding and start flying everywhere. And once they land, they drop their wings and start chewing away.

This is terrible for a graphic designer: they eat paper, wood, cardboard, books, magazines... I need to fumigate... PRONTO!!

Still no luck

Even after I bought those wonderful speakerphones, my granny still prefers to shout stuff. She says it's easier. Of course it is. But this is not about easier, it's about being a bit more civilized.

Oh well, maybe she'll come around someday.

Babies light up a place

Yesterday, some of my sister's friends dropped by. They're a married couple who live in El Salvador, and yet they didn't mind driving all the way to Kzanderallia just to see my sis. Now that's what I call friendship!!

Anyways, they brought their eight-month baby along. He is huge! And sooo cute!! Well, he was the star of the show. Everybody wanted to cuddle him and pat him and make funny noises for him.

You should've seen my grandma. She just loves babies. She picked him up and sat him in her lap. She seemed like 15 years younger!

That's one thing about my house... there's no babies. My sister Abby is the youngest, and she is 24. So it is a very grown up environment. Quiet, peaceful... maybe too much so.

That stinging sensation

It tears me up, you know? The fact that my granny, my mom, my sis... everybody seems to yearn for a kid running around, giving everybody heck. And yet, babies are nowhere in the picture right now. Because of her chemo and many operations, Abby will probably never have kids of her own. Luann isn't even looking for a boyfriend right now because of her hectic lifestyle.

And that leaves me. I was ready to fulfill my duties and get some babies made. If everything went well, we would've had ourselves a baby in less than a year's time. But fate had other plans. And now, I'm back to square one. Even if I met somebody tomorrow, it'll probably be three years (at least) till a baby roams around these parts.

Bummer.

Another comic!

My new comic!

Recently Galoot posted a wonderful new comic-making tool, which was just a blast.
I tried it out and this is what came out.



Hope you like it!

Panic

Well, it's official: I've started to freak out. It's been almost four months since Ivy isn't here and I feel miserable and lonely as heck. This is when I miss Ivy the most. With her around, I was NEVER lonely. We would talk and talk till there was nothing good to talk about.

But now I feel like unloading my heart, but nobody wants to listen. Can't really blame them. Listening miserable tales for hours tends to bore anybody.

Feelin' like mopin' a lot

...hope you don't mind.

The thing is, that I've been able to cope a bit better with the fact that Ivy isn't here anymore. But it seems that every time I go to see her at the cemetery, the memories come flodding back.

Did I mention I'm going to see Ivy's final resting place every month? I started going back in January -I just couldn't get myself to go there before that. I try to go in the weekend between the 21st and the 29th of the month.

Why the 21st? Our anniversary was on the 21st of April, but Ivy and me used to celebrate every 21st we were together. And the 29th marks another month that Ivy isn't here.

The cemetery is a very calm place. Her family grave faces a beautiful garden. It helps to ease my heart, which happens to break in a million pieces every single time.

Damn, it's harsh.

I feel lonely and I wanna cry like a little boy

Actually, that sounds so good...

I'm like a wounded puppy

You know how, if you feed a little puppy, he makes you his master?
I've just realized I'm exactly like that.

I tend to develop genuine affection for any woman that is kind to me. I gotta stop confusing compassion with love.

That's why I really have to finish school so I can start going out and meeting people as soon as possible. Then I'll stop obsessing about having somebody in my life.

The trouble with finding a lady for me

I've always been inclined to think poorly of myself, specially in the ladies department. Getting a girl seems like a totally impossible feat for me. I used to blame it on the fact that I am fat, or maybe I didn't dress right. Or maybe I was too ugly to get girls.

But then, I noticed that uglier, worse dressed kids were getting girls. And no, it didn't always mean that they were loaded (although that always helps). It was a self esteem issue, plain and simple.

Other dudes didn't think of themselves as the scum of the earth, so other people didn't either. But I always seem to be thinking something along the lines of 'This shirt makes me look fat', 'I hate my hairdo', 'My beard looks like crap'. And, I mean, that shows. But I don't know how to consciously overcome it. Sometimes, in the right mindset, I am able to forget myself and achieve wonders. But those happenings are scarce.

Ivy helped me not to think about these things, because she was just the perfect woman for me. She was cute and she loved me a lot. She had flaws, as any other human being. But she fulfilled me in ways I can't even begin to describe. I was so fulfilled that I didn't have to worry about how attractive I was cause she was a living proof that I wasn't so bad. One thing I loved about being with Ivy was the fact that I would never have to date again.

But now she's gone and I'm on the dating arena once more. And it doesn't seem pretty.

Lemme clear things up

It's not that I can't get girls at all, 'cause I can. But I have a weird ability to hook-up girls in whom I have no interest whatsoever. The less I want them, the more they want me.

So why don't I just hook up with one of those?? 'Cause it's not about hooking up with anybody. Maybe it was like that at the very beginning, but nowdays I have standards, dammit. The way I see it, any girlfriend I end up having has to have at least as much qualities as Ivy did. It's setting the bar a bit high, but anything less would be a setback.

Tell me whom you're hanging with, and I'll tell you who you are

A lot of people may not want to agree on this thing I'm about to say, but here goes: Mates are status symbols. Trophies. The kind of man or woman you get says a lot about you. The hotter your mate looks, the better off you are.

Because hot-looking mates are hard to come by, it takes a really special person to nail one of them. You may be loaded, or maybe you're hot-looking yourself. Or maybe you have this amazing quality which makes you totally attractive.

Now, being neither hot-looking nor wealthy, and not having any redeeming qualities, I am screwed.

Self improvement

Now just 'cause I'm lame now doesn't mean I plan on staying lame. As soon as I get my degree (which would be some major improvement right there), I want to better myself thoroughly. I'll get dance lessons, and I'll learn Italian and German. I'll go to the gym regularly and eat right. I'll also improve my wardrobe.

Now, if I could only get a personality transplant, I'd be set!!

Blondes

Kzanderallians have an obsession with blondes. Most aspire to be one or to be with one. Me included. It wouldn't really matter, except for the fact that most people around here look like this:



Now that is a problem.

My granny and the speakerphone

I live with my grandmother. Since it's just the two of us in a two-story house built for five, frequently we have to talk out loud:

-SONNIE?
-YEAH?
-COME RIGHT DOWN, DINNER'S READY!!
-WHAT??
-DINNER'S READY!!
-OH. THANK YOU!!

Yelling is fun, but after seven years, it kind of gets tiresome. So the other day, I decided to finally buy a couple of wireless speakerphones I saw at the hardware store.



They're great. You just plug them into a wall socket and they're up and running.

Despite this apparent ease of use, I can't tell you how hard it's been to try to teach her to use the dang things.
Even though it's a very straightforward procedure (press the button to talk, release to listen), she manages to get it wrong most of the time. She forgets to push the button, or she forgets to release it. Of course, it's endearing to see her try.

Hey... guess what? I'm feeling blue again!!

Big surprise, right??

After the whole Midge fiasco, I am forced to face my loneliness once more.
And why don't I go out with some friends?? Well, I can't! I'm working on graduating this semester, remember?

But that's bull. I guess that if I really wanted to go out, I would.
I think I just feel like moping a bit.

Staying away

I've decided to finally let go of Midge. I am tired of pretending, of telling myself I will somehow break thru to her, that she will like me at some point.

I mean, Gawd... she always sits in class as far away as possible from me!
I noticed that a while ago, but I just can't ignore it anymore.

I am angry. Angry at her, because she doesn't want me.
And angry at myself, for even thinking that she could ever want to be with me.
So, enough. No more calls, no more trying to be her friend, nothing.
It's time to focus my energies elsewhere.

I should be thankful with Midge.
She is helping me graduate.

Update

Well, Midge is boyfriend-less, that is for sure.
But everything else is blurry.

She doesn't totally hate me, yet she doesn't want me getting any close to her.
The story of my life.

I had forgotten how good a woman feels

Enter Valy. I've known her for over six years now. She's a friend of my sister's. Then I found out she had a teensy bit of a crush on me, but my sister shooed that away from existence. I think she doesn't think Valy is good for me. Or maybe she doesn't want to mix friends and family. Granted, it could get messy.

For the past six years we've had a really good vibe between us. But since Ivy was around, neither of us did anything about it. But we've kept in touch. We MSN each other and I call her sometimes. and that was it.

But yesterday was different. She goes to the same gym I go to (when I actually go), but we seldom see each other 'cause of my college schedule. She asked me if I was gonna go to the gym, and I told her I was only dropping by just to say hi.

When I got there, she was really kind. Really kind. She sat me down and we talked. She asked me how I was feeling and I told her. I told her about Moonlight Mile, about my anger, and about the sadness that never seems to leave me since Ivy is gone.

Valy was really nice. She patted me on the thigh and held my hand. I thought my heart was gonna burst. Val is really cute. And she was looking at me with those gorgeous green eyes of hers.

It was a really sweet and intimate moment, like we used to have with Ivy. It felt really good.
There is definitely still a vibe there. But I'm afraid. It felt too good. I have to sort out those feelings. Is this too soon??

Plus, I should think twice before making any advances on a friend of my sister's.
It could get messy. My sister isn't too fond of her big brother eyeing her pals.

It ain't over till the fat lady sings

Ready for another chapter in the Midge saga?? Yeah, I wasn't expecting one either.
After my sister told me on Saturday that Midge was spoken for, I was totally miserable but ultimately decided to stay away and go on with my life.

But then, yesterday happened. We were in class and Midge was late. I was trying to pretend like I didn't care she wasn't around. Then she arrived in a rush, her vains popping out of her forehead like they do whenever she has to run somewhere.

Then, the teacher smiled and said, "You know what, I'm gonna have to talk to that boyfriend of yours so that he lets you come in on time."

Midge smiled back and said, "I wish it were as easy as that, but there isn't any boyfriend right now!"

I don't really remember much of what the teacher said afterwards. I guess I was too busy trying not to show how happy those little words had made me.

But wait, there's more

I thought everything was back to what it used to be... but no.

I was having one of my meditative moments, when Midge came by and punched me on the arm while she said something like, "Hey, why the long face?".

I was flabbergasted. She had NEVER touched me before. All I could think was that line from the Will Smith movie, Hitch: "If a woman hits you, that's a good thing." And she did it like three times. And she went up and talked to me about the Infinite SummerBlast, and how she's going to next Saturday's bash (which I was planning to attend)

And... AND... after class was over and I dropped her off at her parking lot, she sat shotgun!! She had never sat shotgun before. I'm not saying it was a deliberate thing, but it happened and that's what I'm focusing on.

So, last night I was driving on cloud nine all the way home.

Death of a phone

I was talking to my sister and my phone fell on my toenail.
Have you any idea of how painful that can be?

Well, I wish I could tell you what happened next, but I can't.
I think I had a blind-rage episode, can't really say.

Last thing I remember was a furious pain climbing thru my nervous system, reaching my cerebelum. Then, blank.

When I came to, I had a million pieces of green plastic in front of me.
Then I started having brief flashes of myself shouting obscenities and smashing my phone to bits.

So now I need to get me a new phone. But man, smashing the old one felt good!

Comments: the switch

I finally decided to switch from Haloscan's to Blogger's comment feature. I liked a lot of things about Haloscan's comments, except for the fact that you have to pay $15 for them. If you don't pay, any comment older than 4 months will be hidden and you won't be able to see them till you hand over the cash.

Despicable.

However, I'm thinking about shelling out the cash anyway, so I can reactivate my Haloscan comments and then rewrite them over at Blogger. It'll be expensive and boring, but dammit, I owe it to my fans.

Yes, the two of you.

Movie of the week

Have you seen it?

Moonlight Mile is the story of a guy -Joe- whose fiance dies a little while before the wedding, and about his relationship with his parents-in-law, the Floss's.

It was really moving, for it explored a lot of themes I've experienced firsthand as of late:

• How a person's sudden death can leave behind a gaping abyss in so many different lives at the very same time.
• How everything, EVERYTHING reminds you of her.
• How people find themselves with nothing to say but clichés to you to help ease your burden.
• How pathetic it is to be the guy with the dead fiancé.
  
• How your in-laws pleed with you not to fade away, not to dissappear from their lives, since you are the only thing they have left of their daughter.
• How you love them, and how you want to give them whatever they ask of you, even if it happens to be an emotionally excruciating task.
• How guilty you feel to actually start looking again for somebody to fill up your heart. Guilty, because you feel like you are erasing your last love from your life after all she did for you.

But Moonlight Mile ends on a positive note. Joe finds Bertie, a kindred spirit, and they head together towards the horizon.

So there you have it. All I have to do is find my Bertie and I'll be set.

Whoops

Me and my sister were having breakfast yesterday, and we started talking about people we know in school. Guess what? She knows Midge. My Midge.
And guess what else?? She has a boyfriend!!

Heartbreak Hotel

Well, it's not like we didn't suspect it, right?

I had all the clues in front of me, I just didn't want to see them.
Her aloofness now makes sense: she was trying to avoid giving me the wrong idea.
Her constant cell phone use.

It's a big pill to swallow, you know. But it will go down eventually.
It just feels stuck in my windpipe, that's all.

A walk on the clouds

Yesterday was just golden.

I had to go to my college campus to deliver an important homework. I had to start by looking up the class where my teacher was gonna be at. When I did, I handed her my homework, but then I noticed she and her class were discussing analogies and metaphors, which is a topic I felt I needed a boost on. So I asked permission to stay and listen in.

Anyway, as I was there sitting in class, I got a call... from Midge! I don't need to tell you how much did my blood pressure shoot up right there and then. The reason she was calling: she had to hand over the exact same assignment, so she needed to know in which class our teacher was. So I told her, and after a while, she showed up.

What ensued was what I like to call 'quality time'. No, it wasn't romantic, or anything like that. She just sat next to me and we chatted for a while as we waited for our teacher to take a break from her class so Midge could hand her the homework.

Guys like me, we don't get girls based on our looks, so we have to grow on people over time. But time is what we usually don't have. When we are in class, I don't get to talk to Midge a lot, cause the teacher gets pissed if we don't pay attention. And after our class is over, she just heads right home. But now, there she was, all by herself, no interruptions at hand. So we talked a bit. I didn't even try to flirt, because of her uncertain social status (single? commited? ). I just tried to obtain general info, and let her talk a lot while I listened.

After she had turned in her paper, I decided to walk her to her car. I pretended to have parked in the same parking lot that she had, just so I could walk along her side a while longer. It was about eight extra blocks of walking for me, but you don't care about hardships like these when you are infatuated.

Einstein is right. Time is relative. I remember savoring every second of that walk. But, all things come to an end. As I headed back to where my car was actually parked, I remember thinking -for the first time in a while- that my life could really turn out nice.

It's official: I have a crush

I am beginning to see puffy clouds and cherubs whenever Midge appears.
I am so royally screwed...

At least she allows me to give her a ride to her parking lot after class more often.

I'm a wuss

Big surprise, right? Anyway, lemme tell you why I mean what I say.

I decided to take Midge out to a thing called the Infinite SummerBlast, a one day music festival organized by a local radio station this very weekend. It's supposed to be mondo cool, with 12 hours of music and stuff, even a polo match(?). So last Saturday I got myself a couple of tickets and started gathering up the nerve to ask her out.

Since I am in the habit of complicating things, I started coming up with schemes to minimize possible rejection. I thought of giving her one ticket, then go by myself and just "casually bump" into her.

Now, here's what I actually did: Yesterday, I started telling Midge about these tickets I had for the Infinite SummerBlast, and how I wasn't gonna use them 'cause my mom had decided to have a day-long birthday party. So I asked if she wanted the tickets and gave them to her.

Dunno, it may sound like a really stupid thing to do, but I hope she will have a great time, and then she'll be really thankful towards the swell guy who made it all happen. Right?

Didn't think so either.

Can I tell you a secret?

I like somebody.

Her name is Midge. She's in my same class.
I think I have a crush on her.

Yeah, I know. It's too soon.

But I like to think this is a therapeutic kind of love. Allow me to explain.

After Ivy passed away, my fragile male ego sustained a big loss in the validation department. My little girl was always comfirming me as a valuable man. Even if she did nothing, she was living proof that I was worth something. I mean, if I had a girlfriend, I couldn't be that bad, right?

Since her departure, part of me has been looking for a girl that will validate me once again. It can't be just anybody.

Then, I met Midge. She is small, slender and cute. Just like I like them. Some stuff about her reminds me of Ivy, but in general, this kid is a whole new ballgame. She is spunky and a lot more extroverted than Ivy. Plus, she is a bit more scruffy-looking than Ivy.

So far so good, right? But a part of me tells me it ain't gonna happen.

I mean, she is nice and everything, but I don't see a real connection happening. She is kind of guarded and protective. I suspect this is due to the fact that she may have a boyfriend. I don't know for sure, cause I have no idea how to bring it up without sounding like I'm totally interested.

But even if nothing will ever happen between us, she is very important to me. Not because she is actually interested in me, but because she could be. It's the possibility of love which I treasure.

In her own way, Midge is helping me by taking my mind off Ivy for a while. And that's a big help.

Welcome back, my friends!!!

You know, it's not easy being in hi5.

I mean, sure, you get to do cool stuff like meeting people and such, but that's beside the point. The real cool stuff about hi5 is getting all the friends you can.
(In case you are unfamiliar with the whole hi5 methodology, you get to link your profile with other people's. The more linked profiles you have, the cooler you are)
At first it was really hard to get anybody to be my friend. Totally pathetic, I know. But it was the truth. Only my sisters wanted to hook up with me. Then some Arabian guy got in the act. And that was it for a really long while.

Then, in less than three months time I managed to up my friends to over 60.
I don't need to tell you how happy I was. I felt like the most happenin' guy around.
I pitied those poor sobs that had only 23 friends or so. I felt so charismatic and powerful! I felt like I could look down on anybody Then I had my ego handed down to me.

One evening, all my friends but 7 were gone. I didn't cry that time, but my eyes got really moist. I couldn't believe it!! Was I being punished for my unabashed pride??

I wrote to hi5 support over and over. Each time, I managed to sound even more desperate and maniac than the previous time. I really felt sad and vulnerable.

But that all changed, just now!! I opened up my account and noticed that all my friends were back!! Not only that, but I had managed to gain a few extra buds along the way. So now, I'm up to 75!!

I have almost overcome that horrorific week I've just had. I still shudder when I consider how many times people checked my profile and thought I was totally lame 'cause I only had three friends. Now people will have to actually know me before making that very same conclusion!!

HURRAY!! GO MOM!!!

My mom turned 58 today.

I gave her two books, a blouse, chocolates and had flowers sent to her place.

What can I say? I love my mother.
Sue me.

I am amazed

And you would be if you witnessed the sudden cleanliness that governs my room. I mean, we are talking about a room that used to be so cluttered that you couldn't see the floor. It drove a lot OCPD relatives nuts.

The transformation took its damn time to happen. It started slow, a couple of years ago, with the acquisition of a new file cabinet (a beautiful custom job, bigger than the standard model), and a new drawing table (which I managed to put together myself in a quite acceptable fashion). After that, things stood still for a while.

Then, the coloured plastic boxes started to pour in. At first, I got myself just three: one red (DVDs and CDs), one blue (books) and one yellow (magazines). Pretty soon it became apparent that I had badly miscalculated and was forced to go back to the store. And again. At the moment, I am the proud owner of nine sturdy plastic containers. Eleven, if you count a couple of transparent ones that my mom had given me a while back for my birthday.

Nowdays, while there is still a lot to be done, the room is way more organized than before. Way.

I dunno what is it about my family and clutter. My dad was the exact same way. I've tried to refrain from the excesses that he incurred into, but it's not easy. Sometimes it's very hard to part with stuff. You always fear that instants after you have thrown away something, the urgent need for the discarted item will arise out of nowhere.

I like to think that the only things that keep me from a fully organized lifestyle is a lack of proper furniture. Currently my desk has no drawers of any kind (which is no surprise, given that it is actually a dinner table from my Dad). I don't even have a working closet (the current one is old and rotting away). The shelves are far from optimal. But all that will change eventually.

Wait till I get some time and money in my hands, and I'll put in new closets, bookshelves and a really good bed. It'll be grand, you'll see!! Maybe then my granny will stop having seizures whenever my room comes up in a conversation.

58

A couple of days ago, Ivy and I would've celebrated our 58th month together.
Luckily, I was just amazingly busy and I wasn't able to dwell on it much.

Gosh, I still miss her so much, the only way to cope is to avoid thinking about her at all.

Kzanderall-at-School update!!

Ok, so if you've been around here before, you'll know that I'm not much of a regular poster. Although, I get my writing spurts every once in a while. But let's just say that now, I have a good reason: I'm back in school, baby!!

For about a month now, I've been up to my ears with homework, while still holding to my two jobs. Insane? Kinda, but God knows I need the moneys to pay for school. That sucker is expensive.

So far, I've been able to cope. Kinda. Let's hope that stress doesn't make me flip before the semester is over.

Nobody reads me anymore. Hurray!

It had to happen. I have gotten so depressingly boring that my writings are no longer interesting to anybody. Not even myself.
Heck, getting a reader every once in a while was fun, but I guess I'll manage.

Kzanderallia, Love It!!

There is a new movement in Kzanderallia, called Kzanderallia, Love It!. I believe it will do Kzanderallia a lot of good. One of this country's problems is the lack of nationalism in its citizens. Of course, there are plenty of reasons that we are that way. But it's about time to turn things around!!

This festival got started last Wednesday 25th, and it rained. Hope it's not an omen.

Crush

My first crush?? Can't say for sure.
But the one crush I remember most was my infatuation with Rose.

She was a really pretty girl, albeit a bit skinny and tomboyish. She was nice, but aloof... specially with me. Wouldn't you be with a kid that drools all over you??

Years of experience have taught me that adoration and obsession are two ways to get a girl turned off right away. But this was before that. I had no clue what to do, other than stare at her all day and make clumsy attempts at conversation.

My crush ended one Prom Night, when I gathered the nerve to walk up to her and ask her to dance. She looked at me and blurted out in a condescending tone, "I'm sorry, you're just too short!" It was true. She was a full 2 inches taller than me.

I'd love to tell you that this remark didn't scar me for life, but I guess it did. It would explain why now I look for girls who are obviously shorter than me. Even with high heels on.

Video wacko

We are officially nuts.

My little sis and I went to the video store and rented SEVEN flicks!! (Two for her, five for me):

And they're all due on Tuesday!!
I dunno about you, but I got my week full.

I really, REALLY love my in-laws

I went to the gym today. I never take my phone with me, 'cause I hate having to lug things around while I'm in there. Well, when I got to the car, I saw about nine lost calls! They were from my mother-in-law, who wanted to invite me to join them for breakfast.

I had a really fun time. I love seeing Ivy's family. And they seem to love me back. It's so nice!
Nothing can replace Ivy, but this sure helps.

Eye of the beholder

A girl I know has an online photo gallery. She has photos in there dating back to her early childhood. As you check out the album, you get to see her and her friends grow up right before your very eyes. It's nothing out of the extraordinary: you see friends goofing off, having a good time. You see her first car (which she totalled a while later), new hairdos, prom dresses...it's stuff that everybody has gone thru at one time or the other.

She has a new man in her life, so most of the new stuff is devoted to him. (Lucky guy).

Ah... to be young and in love!!

Movie night!

I wanted to see Wedding Crashers ever since I heard about it. Despite the fact that the DVD is already available in the US, it just premiered in theaters over here. (That's Kzanderallia for you).

So, I went to see it and it was great. Got to laugh like crazy at Owen Wilson and Vince Vaughn's wacky antics. And I got to see my favorite star, miss Rachel McAdams. Isn't she gorgeous??

Now, on a more personal note...

Anyway, while it might seem masochistic of me to go out and see films about weddings right now, it was really good. I had a good laugh (many, actually) and I had an opportunity to see some of the things I lived thru from a different perspective. Just as in the movie, my former father-in-law is a big man here in Kz-land. And his family, -God bless them- is totally whacked. But dammit, I love them all.

I wanna die

Really. After having a great big ol' cry last night, I was feeling kinda refreshed... but, around 8:30 AM, I realized that today, Ivy and I would've celebrated our 57th month together. Yeah, we used to celebrate every month we were together. We called them 'Monthiversaries'. Every 21st we used to exchange cards and go out and have a good time. We did it every time, except on the 55th, cause she was ill and everything, and our minds were busy on getting her to feel better. She was gone about a week later.

I miss her. God, I really do. I feel this emptyness in my heart, which just doesn't go away. I have nobody to confide in. I mean, who would ever want to hear this? So when people ask me how i feel, I just say, 'I'm fine, more or less.' But the truth is that I am lonely, and sad.

Move on?

Everybody wants me to be able to turn the page. But what is it, exactly, to turn the page? Meeting somebody else? Having a new girlfriend? Getting married?? Having kids??

It all sounds wonderful, but here's the thing: I am not a good man. I am, in fact, despicable. I am nothing but an inmense collection of bad habits, awful personality traits and a terrible temper to boot. I am messy, and disorganized. I am fat and hideous. I am over-anxious and stupid. Selfish and lazy. Weak and disgusting. Quite a catch.

Even I wouldn't want to hang out with myself. How can I ask some poor girl to? How can I in good faith ask somebody else to be with me?

I won't. I can't condemmn another woman to this hell. I will spare them all. Never again shall I ruin somebody else's life by asking them to be with me. Most women have good sense and turn their backs on me. But, there are still some unfortunate souls that don't know better and that have the terrible idea that I could be a good boyfriend, a good husband.
I must show them the error of their ways and put them on the right path: away from me.

And yet...

Instants after deciding that no woman in the world should be forced to suffer my companionship, I find myself thinking how good it would be to have somebody else in my life. Didn't I say I was stupid??

I guess I should clear this up a bit. It's not that I DON'T WANT TO have somebody else to fill my days with love and tenderness. Having somebody in your life is the greatest thing one could ever have. But I no longer have the right to fulfill my wishes. You are entitled to ask for good things only if you are a worthy person. I am not.

Women deserve better

They deserve a good man. A hard worker. Somebody who is strong and wise. Somebody filled with energy and courage. Somebody who will help you out.

What can I offer?? I am none of those things. Sometimes I feel that I am made up from leftovers.

I feel like a waste. I feel that the time, love and money invested in me were for not. I am an incomplete and useless being.

I should live the rest of my days giving happiness to others. I will be a great friend, a good man to talk to. I will listen to others and help them in whatever way I can.

But I will not look for anybody else. I will not allow anything remotely like a relationship to happen ever again.

Robo-Kz

Lately, it feels as if my life is in auto-drive, living itself on its own, without me having to intervene at all. It's like I'm watching a tv show called Kz's Life. There just aren't any ads, and it will only end when I leave this planet.

Oh, but let me tell you about the pain. It's glorious, I assure you. Not having Ivy in my life has left me completely empty. I have no reason to go on anymore.

Trust me, I'm not suicidal

Saying that I have no reason to go on anymore freaks people out. They think I'm gonna off myself at some point.
But no.

Let me say right up that as a Catholic, I have a very healthy fear of Hell, and that's precisely where suicides go.
So I can't do it.

But the fact that I lack the nerve to kill myself doesn't mean I don't ever think about it. In fact, while I was an angst-ridden teen a few years back, I used to think about suicide all the time. All the friggin time. Of course, I told no one. It's like asking to be commited. I remember thinking that I didn't want my body scarred or mutilated, so I couldn't jump from a window or shoot myself. That meant I'd have to overdose. But... there's always the chance of a coma...

It was stupid, actually. Even back then, I knew I would never have the nerve to whack myself. Still, I obsessed about it. I thought how it would end all my suffering, my sadness, my loneliness. I imagined everybody at school being sorry that they hadn't treated me better. Isn't that the most stupid thing ever?? Like they would care.

That's the thing about suicide. It doesn't teach your foes a lesson. It only hurts the ones that care about you. And it solves nothing. Plus, it's a waste.

Why I say I have no reason for living

For almost five years, Ivy was everything to me. She was everywhere. She used to call me six o seven times a day. I was at her house about two hours each day, and almost six on weekdays.

She was the reason I wanted to get up in the morning. She was the reason I wanted to be somebody. She was the reason I wanted to be a husband and a father.

Now she is gone. What am I supposed to do now?
Dying isn't an option. So I guess I have to live until God wants me to die.
What will I do till then... that's the question.

Back 2 school!!

After a really long break, I've gone back to school. This time, I'm determined to get my degree in Design at last.

The class

To graduate, I have to take this course called Portfolio. It's a very special kind of class, because it's actually three classes in one. On Mondays, we see Design Investigation (investigate a design issue), on Wednesdays we see Design Strategy (we develop a design project), and on Thursdays we take Portfolio Construction (we build our personal work portfolio). Each class starts at 17:30 and ends around 20:00.

The classmates

I'm in the special group. We are 'special', 'cause each of us has really special needs. Some have taken the course before and failed. Others haven't been in school for more than four years.
A bunch of misfits are we.
Karola: Mother of three. Her stranged husband tried to take away their kids.
Yulissa: Mother of two. She is really funny and lives a block away from campus so she walks to class.
Midge: Her tiny frame gives her the appearance of a 18-year-old, when she is actually 29. She's taken the course before and has to take every single class again (just like me).
Joey: A total goofball. We love him. He only comes on Wednesdays.
Georgy: He only has to come in on Mondays. He usually brings his exhuberant girlfriend along. That girl's got her man on a short leash.
We are a really nice group, in all.

Schedule rearrangements

I had to consider dropping one of my two jobs (either the one at Lexcorp or the one at Culture Publishing House) in order to have time to do all the class assignments.
Right now I managed to strike a deal with CPH and they're allowing me to show up only twice a week as long as I do everything they throw at me.
We'll see if this arrangement works out.

Classware

I decided not to skip any expenses and without further ado, I went to the store and got myself about all school supplies I could think of: notebooks, tape dispensers, staplers, bookbags, the works. I hope that it's worth it. All I know is that school-supply shopping is always fun.

Coping

What should I be feeling? How should I channel my pain? What should I do with my life?
First of all, 'should' is a clumsy word to use. I don't believe there is a way to grieve. I can look at how other people have faced similar (or worse) pain, but their actions are their own. I have to choose my own path.

How do I feel?

First of all, I think that my mind is in deep denial at the time. I tell myself that it is going to be alright. I tell myself that I will be happy again. But I'm actually not so sure. Two things stand in my way: guilt and fear.

Guilt over the bad things I said and did while Ivy was alive. I never cheated on her, but we had fights, ugly ones. I was tardy, I was messy. I ate too much. Everything I said to her then now feels like a screw driving itself into my heart, a twist at a time.

Fear is a big part of my life now. Fear of being alone forever. Of course, I have friends, I have a family. They support me. That, in itself, is a blessing. But it's just not the same as the love of a woman. And each passing day I convince myself a bit more that Ivy was a fluke. Maybe I'm too ugly. Maybe I'm too fat. So far, these are workable areas. But, what if I'm the problem, you know? What I'm just too stupid, too dumb? What if I don't deserve to be with anybody?

How do I channel my pain?

I haven't. Not really. I wish I could say that I've been working on my masterpiece, which will blow everyone away. But that is not the case. So far, I've been letting my life go on just the same as it was before. I get up, get dressed, have breakfast, go to work. I eat. I sleep. I let routine drive me as much as it can. Still, I am left with huge gaps in my day, gaps SHE used to fill.

What should I do with my life?

I have no idea what is to become of me. The future is cloudy right now. I have a hard time thinking up a reason to keep going. No, I'm not suicidal. What I mean is that I have no purpose anymore. I was going to be married this year. Live with Ivy. Have kids. All my goals were wiped clean. Why should I go on living?

I have to work on an answer to that.

Uncle Sam REALLY, REALLY wants you

A few days ago, while on vacation in Las Vegas, an Army recruiter approached my cousin Paul and asked him if he wanted to sign up. My cousin politely told them he wasn't interested.
The Army guy offered helping him get into a good college.
My cuz told him he already was into a good college... back home... in Kzanderallia.
Army Guy wasn't deterred.
-"You aren't American? No prob! We can help you with that!!"

I guess things aren't going so well in Iraq as some had hoped.
Maybe the Army should look into robot armies, or cloning.
Or maybe not starting wars just for the sake of it.
Whaddaya think?

Happy New Year!!

May it not be as lousy as the last two.

Things to do if you want to get rid of a cough

I've had a cough for the last two weeks.
Now, here's a list of things to do when you want to get rid of a cough:

1. Take your cough syrup
2. Don't stay out late
3. Don't go out without a coat
4. Don't smoke
5. Don't talk too much
6. Cover yourself up when you go to sleep

Of course, I HAVEN'T DONE A SINGLE THING.

Holy pissed

Talking to my granny yesterday, I realized that I'm really REALLY mad... at God, no less!

You see, as a Christian, they tell you that if you are a good child, and respect your parents and eat all your greens and go to bed early, when you die, you'll be rewarded in the afterlife.

But what they don't tell you is that no matter how well you behave, death can come to you in a million excruciating ways. Sometimes you get lucky, and you die in your sleep. But usually, you get stabbed, or shot or crushed in a car accident. Or maybe a good doctor botches up and you die for his mistakes.
Like Ivy did.

I was so mad, because she was so good and she suffered so much. Meanwhile, total S.O.B.s live their whole lives without goint thru so much as a cold. Didn't seem fair. Wasn't God supposed to be good??

Then my granny talked about Jesus. Even though he was unquestionably good, even though he did no one harm, he had to suffer unspeakable pain and torture before he died.

I'm not a religious man... but all of a sudden, her words put everything back into perspective.

I guess I'm still mad: those things don't go away from one day to the next.
But for now, I have peace.

Thanks, Granny!!

This is one of those moments...

...when it really sucks to not have a girlfriend.

It's 11pm and I feel like talking. But who can I talk to?
Everybody's asleep.
Thought about chatting, but it's just not the same.
It's too easy to get lost in the noise of dozens of people saying different things at the same time.

I think I'll go shake my granny.
At least I won't be the only one awake in the house.

More than meets the eye-brow

Today, I looked at the mirror and I saw this:



Do you see that curly eyebrow sticking out?

My dad had curly eyebrows like that. They would drive my mother into a hair-plucking frenzy. Whenever I saw him squirming under her tweezers, I couldn't help being extremely thankful of not sharing that feature.

I'm safe no longer. My mother's tweezers will come for me soon.
My dad must be laughing his head off.

MERRY XMAS!!!

Sick day!

I caught a cold a couple of days ago.

Rather... it caught me.
I got the full package: The clogged up nose, the body pain, the shivering, the stuffy head, the cough...
I thought I was well enough to go to the office, but I was totally wrong. I was able to manage on Monday, but yesterday I got little done, unless you count blowing your nose ten times a minute as work.

And just to prove how moronic I can actually be, yesterday I decided to go to a little get-together, after work.
The restaurant was quite chilly and that, of course, didn't help.

After a most miserable of nights, I decided to skip work today and stay at home.
So here I am, all cuddled up in bed, while others slave themselves at the office.

I definitely should have more sick days.

Missing her

It's tough to see young couples or young mothers with their babies.
Ivy really wanted to get married. She really wanted to be a mother.
I admit I wasn't as thrilled about both things, but I knew that would make her inmensely happy.
And that's all I ever wanted, to make her happy.
Cause making her happy made me happy in return.

When I was with Ivy, I thought I was made!
Never again would I have to go on dates.
Never again would I feel lonely!!
Now, I feel lonely all the time. No matter what I do.
It feels as if a little flame inside my heart had gone out.

Somebody explain to me how Ivy seems to be everywhere and nowhere at the same time??

Weird things that happen when somebody passes on

It's been almost three weeks after Ivy's passing. It's been harsh, but thanks to all the shows of affection and support that we've received online and offline, her family and I have been able to push on forward.

I wanted to share with you stuff that happened since she is no longer with us. Some of them are so absurd that I have no idea what to make of them.

Late scoldings: While Ivy was being put on the ground, one of her sisters thought it was the perfect time to reprimand every single member of her family right there and then on what she perceived to be poor family relations. They had to stand there and listen to her ramble on and on right there in the cemetery.

Regrets: One of Ivy's brothers-in-law asked everyone attending the funeral services that if they loved someone, they should tell them right away and make sure they know while they're alive. Great advice, but... guess why he was so adamant about it.

Recycling: Some thought it a great idea to take some of Ivy's floral arrangements over to another relative's tomb. Spread the joy.

Indecent proposals: The fact that I have been single for barely 20 days or so hasn't stopped several young ladies from making efforts in securing the vacant position. The fact that I stayed with Ivy till the very end seems to be quite attractive for some. Although quite a boost to the ol' self-esteem, I think it's too soon, gals.

Personality changes: Me and my brother-in-law didn't quite see each other eye-to-eye, but he went up to my mother and declared that he was "honored to have met a man as remarkable as your son". Who was that guy??

Virtual adoption: My parents-in-law want me to come over every night and have dinner at their house They have asked me countless times to never stray away from them. Will they kidnap me in my sleep?

Everything must go: My mother-in-law wants me to have Ivy's bed. My father-in-law wants to give me her car. Anybody else thinks it's kinda creepy to use your loved one's things while they're 6 feet under?

Color me creeped out.

Two weeks later...

It's been real rough without you, baby.
But I will keep on going.
I know you'd want me to.
I will always love you.

Goodbye, my love

Today, Ivy lost her battle against lupus.
Words are useless to express the pain I feel, the anguish, the sorrow.

At the same time, I am happy that she is finally free from pain and disease.

Baby, I will never forget you.

Hi5

A while back, I got into hi5. In case you don’t know what hi5 is...

hi5.com is a social networking internet service. Users create an online profile by answering questions and uploading a user picture. Though not as popular in the United States as MySpace or Friendster, hi5 has grown largely popular in Latin American and Caribbean countries.
(from Wikipedia.)

Nice, right?

I could post pictures, meet new people, get in touch with old friends... Could it get any better than that? Networking sites are awesome.

I must say, however, that I've noticed a couple of things:

A. Everybody has more contacts than me
I saw a guy with 100 contacts. Then I saw a girl with 413.
I had exactly two contacts for about 18 months. Both of them were my sisters.
If they hadn’t linked up to me, my mother would’ve disowned them.

B. I have a lame life
As I looked at other people’s photos, it became quite clear that I am THE dullest person ever.
Parties, trips, concerts, get-togethers, night-outs... Everybody is having fun! And just where the FREAK was I???

Networking sites can be so depressing.

Shakedown!!

I've just been scared crapless.

Something happened at Lexcorp yesterday. My department got re-engineered.

No, that doesn't sound nearly as menacing as it should. You see, I work down at Lexcorp's Document Centre. The Centre is split threeways: Publishing, Legal and Documentation. Documentation is composed of three more units: Customer Service, Library and Statistics.

The problem is this very last unit. Statistics was the largest unit in the whole Centre: about ten people. And now it is being absorbed by another department.

This was a surprise move, planned to perfection to the last detail. Nobody at the Centre knew about this, until it happened.

Needless to say, this is chilling. If this could happen to them, it can happen to any of the remainding units, incluiding mine. Thinking ahead, this could be disastrous for the Document Centre. Without half of our workforce, we will shrink down considerably. So will our budget.

Worst case scenario, the decision could be made to close down the Centre, which could happen in one of two ways:
a) the remainding workers could be reassigned to other units.
b) we could just be sent home for good.

Did I mention I was scared crapless?

C-c-cold

Believe it or not, but winter is upon Kzanderallia. And damn it if it isn’t the coldest one I remember. (Of course, I can’t remember more than a year back, so that isn’t much of a statement.)

If you’ve read my blog before, you know I’ve always declared myself a cold weather lover. That was because I was a bit chubbier and hot weather was unbearable to me. But it so happens that I’ve been losing some weight lately, and so my body doesn't hold heat the same way.

So as I write this, I'm using the thickest jacket I have, and thinking that you should be careful with what you wish for.
'Cause getting it is a bitch.

Adieu, Dan

I'm just back from the airport, after leaving Dan and his girlfriend. They will go to Chicago for two weeks and then they will proceed to Europe for a month and a half. I'm such a whirlwind of emotions right now.

First, I'm sad that he is leaving. Dan is one of my closest friends and not being able to see him or even call him for such a long while is a bit distressing. But I'm also glad for him, for he will be having a really good time and he will meet new people and places.

Finally, I'm envious as hell. Did I mention Dan will be bouncing around in Europe with his girlfriend... just the two of them?? My mother would never approve. Neither would my mother-in-law. Damn, I don't think Ivy would approve. Not until we're married, anyway. But what's the fun of doing it then??

My strip

Vacation time!!

Today is the first day of my two-week vacation from Lexcorp. Usually Lexcorp has very rigid schedules regarding vacation schedules. But since my department has only three people on it, we are able to control our vacation schedules. I got the first shift. A week after I come back, my boss goes on vacation himself. That's when my REAL vacation will begin.

Dang

I’ve just had the busiest week I can remember.
I partied harder than I ever thought possible.

Now I’m battling the worse hangover in memory.

Death of a blog

Recently, a friend of mine had to take his blog offline, ‘cause his family was about to find out about it. He was lucky. Had they read what he wrote about them, they would’ve scalped him and eaten him alive.

But now, another hilariously funny blog is gone. And that is a tragedy in its own right.

This whole incident also got me thinking what would I do if my family ever finds out about this thing. Will I run to its deletion?? I dunno. Hope not. Luckily, my mom and my granny are just as technophobes as ever. Ivy isn’t fond of surfing the net. My sisters have better things to do than finding out all the perverted things I do online. And most of my friends don’t know English.

Usually I complain about people never reading this blog. For this once, not being read is actually a good thing.

Blog spam

A few days back, I got an email message telling me somebody had posted something on my blog. Being a well known attention whore, I was delighted yet puzzled, for I didn’t recognize the name of the poster.

I read and re-read the post. I couldn’t believe it. Had somebody just posted SPAM on my blog??
Sure seemed that way:
“Hey fello blogger! I loved your blog. Now find out how you can help Katrina victims at www.ripoff.com”

Man, this just bites. I mean, I was barely getting comments as it was... and now I have to go on and turn on security measures for my blog, which means I might as well forget about getting a single comment ever again.

Friggin’ spammers.

Real proof I'm a glutton for punishment

Two weeks ago, I went ahead and did a crazy thing: I put myself on a diet. No, not one of those celebrity diets you see popping in teen magazines all over the place.

For a while now, it seems that my usual diet of McBurgers, pizza, soda and ice cream has done little for me other than making my clothes hug me a bit tighter than what is comfortable. My arduous program of no exercise at all doesn't seem to help things, either.

After a lot of consideration, I visited the neighborhood weight clinic. There, I was weighed and, for starters, a regimen of reduction massages and body wraps was prescribed.

I was asked to come back the next day with swimming trunks, two towels (one big to lie down on, one small to wipe excess cream and oil). Also, I was required to purchase a bottle of rubbing oil, and two special creams.

I must say, I had NO IDEA what I was getting myself into.

Massage time!

When I read 'massages', I foolishly pictured tall, Swedish women softly caressing my naked body with oils. Instead, I got a diminutive lady in her late 40's, who asked me to dress the massage table with the big towel, then lie on top of it. Then proceeded to rough me up in the most brutal manner possible. For an incredibly long half-hour, she proceeded to pull, push, mash and squish my skin so hard I thought it was going to break apart in her hands. When she finished, my belly, sides and back felt sore as heck. Damn, I felt like she had punctured my spleen, my liver or at least some internal organ.

Later that very day, the soreness would escalate to the point where I would not be able to move any part of my body without feeling like an 80-year-old retiree with a bad hip.

Anyway, right after we were thru with the massage, it was time for the body wrap. This very same lady pulled out a bowl with damp bandages which she proceeded to envelop my torso with.

Although I'd been told that they were 'cold' wraps, I didn't quite figure out what that meant until I felt the wet, chilling bandages making contact with my warm torso. I felt a massive goosebump going thru my whole body.

After the lady was thru, she left me to myself, all alone in that big white room. I dunno which was worse: being uncomfortably wrapped like a big taco or having absolutely nothing to do but listening to Muzak for 30 minutes straight.

Once my time was over, the lady came back to give me my freedom once more. I was overwhelmed with joy.
My first session was over. Only 24 more to go...

The best was yet to come

But the suffering was far from over. A few days later, I got my first diet plan.
That's when crap really hit the fan.That’s when I finally had to face the fact that I wanted to lose weight and stuffing my face would just not do. It was heart-breaking.

The next 3 days were spent eating all the papaya I wanted. Actually, drinking is more accurate.
Since I knew I would despise eating papaya chunks, I asked people to put the papaya in the blender and make it into a drink. I drank, and drank and drank till my gut was filled with liquid. Then I would rush to the bathroom, with an imperative urge to pee like a madman.  Drinking and peeing, that sums up those dreaded 72 hours. Oh, and trying not to think about eating every two seconds.

Luckily, the papaya gave way to more substatial food. My first breakfast with the new plan consisted of cottage cheese on whole wheat bread. Not much, but when you’ve been ‘eating’ fruit for three whole days straight, you take what you get.

The fight keeps on

I have lost ten pounds so far, which is good, but I still need to lose a couple of pounds more.
Therefore, the diet is still on, and so are the massacre massages and the polar-worthy wraps.

I just hope I get rid of the excess poundage before I go insane.
Even more so.

It's raining!!

Yeah, it’s rainy season in Kzanderallia. It’s been so for a few months now.
No news there.

But right now, it’s pouring outside!!

Why is water precipitation so exciting for me? Because when it gets wet enough around here, it cools down the temperature quite a bit. For someone who despises hot weather as I do, it’s really good news.

Amazing sunset

Just can't help it

What is it about fans that makes one want to stick something in it?? Is it the sound of the blades tearing into pencils, paper, clips, and the like?? Or is it the sheer appetite for destruction latent in every human??
Oh, who cares??
Some things are better not overanalized.
Now, if you excuse me, I have a pencil here that urgently needs to be chopped down.

*BRRRRRRRTTTT!!!*

Don't play with knives, kids!!

OUCH!!

I just smashed my right thumb a few minutes ago. I was closing the door after parking my car at LexCorp, and didn’t notice that I had left a finger in the way. At first, it didn’t really hurt, I just felt jammed. For a fraction of a second, I even laughed at my clumsiness. Nevertheless, as the door slowly began crushing my thumbnail, I realized this was no joke. Frantically, I managed to open the door and pull my finger out in about two seconds flat.

The pain was unbearable. The desire to scream and curse like a sailor, irresistible. But no matter how justifiable, this impulse had to remain miserably unfulfilled, as I was in a public space and really didn’t want to bring attention upon myself. All I was left with was clutching my maimed limb and trying to somehow contain the primal scream that was hatching in my lungs. My face was red, my jaw was locked, my eyes swollen. To a casual observer, I must’ve looked like I was simply holding my breath (and my hand) forcefully. On the inside, however, I was seeing red all over.

As time passed, the pain reduced to practical extinction. It only hurts when I bump my thumb into something. The thumbnail feels kinda numb. The space above the cuticle is red, which means it will probably turn blue over time. And of course, my nail will grow crooked after this.

Why was this so funny when it happened to Elmer Fudd?

So many missed chances!

I've been thinking that if I was closer to the computer all day, this blog
would be filled to the brim with at least five times the content it has
now!! Countless ideas and comments have been lost because they happen to
come into my mind at times when I have no way of recording them.

But considering the kind of half-baked crud that does manage to get in here,
maybe less of it is in everybody's best interest.

Ugly on the inside

I distinctly remember a little nursery rhyme I read once, about a very beautiful child, who had awfully improper language. The last line on it was, "Pity this child: so beautiful, yet so ugly!"
I keep that rhyme in mind because it never fails to shock me when an exquisite example of the female gender uses foul language that would put a truck driver to shame.
Just last night, I was having dinner at my parents-in-law’s, and one of the guests –a stunning model/actress/dancer- started talking irately about some women who were after her man. The word bitch was employed ad nauseam till my mother-in-law had to intervene. I can’t tell you how my image of this lady was deteriorated right then and there.

My take on cursing

I think that people forget the purpose of having curse words: they are special words, that when used scantily are able to shock and insult. But when used all the time, their impact is severly dilluted till they just happen to be mere words. Some think that casual cursing makes you cool, but the necessity to employ curse words in everyday conversation only reflects a lack of culture and vocabulary. Ask any job recruiter and they’ll tell you that having a potty-mouth isn’t a sought-after skill.  
I admire those who manage to go the longest time without uttering a single curse word. My mom and my granny have maybe cursed five times in the 28 years that I’ve known them. My dad was a little more profane, mainly when driving. But everybody knows swearing behind the wheel doesn’t count.

Not my best week

Ivy got sick on Wednesday night. Her white cell count had dropped dramatically, and had to be checked into a hospital for observation. After her tests came in, it was clear that she had an infection and needed antibiotics. When I went to see her on Thursday, she had been put under sanitary isolation, and every visitor had to wear masks and robes. Let me tell you, if the sudden news of her hospitalization hadn’t been harsh enough, having to bear cumbersome hygenic measures was really tough to bear. Luckily that was dropped by the next day. And Ivy herself got released on Saturday.

But it wasn’t over yet

While at the hospital, the medicines -and being practically bedridden for three days- caused Ivy pain in her knees and lower back. This pain started to grow and grow as time passed. On Saturday, the pain had turned unbearable. When I went to see her at her home, she was really anguished. She just couldn’t find any position in which she could really relax. Sitting, standing, lying down: nothing worked. The painkillers weren’t working either. That was devastating, to see her so distressed and to not be able to do anything. I managed to convince her to take a little ride in my car, and I drove around and around till she was able to doze off at least a full half hour.

The pain starts to give out

Luckily, the pain killers started to work by Sunday, and she was able to sleep that night. Little by little the pain seems to be going away. But the fight is yet from over. There is still pain, no matter what she does. But it is more tolerable than what she had on Saturday. She is feeling a bit better now and it shows. She has longer episodes of recovery. She can stand to sit or lie down for longer times. Today we watched a movie at her house: Serving Sara, with Matthew Perry and Elizabeth Hurley. Lemme tell you, it was lots of fun.

Fate has a funny sense of humour

Just when it seemed that Ivy was winning her fight... her skin has started to turn yellowish. Her eyes are yellow as well. The symptoms indicate liver malfunction. It could be a temporary thing, caused by all the medicine she has had to take in the last 5 days. Or, it could be Hepatitis.Or it could be catastrophic liver failure. We won’t know for sure till she goes to the doctor, tomorrow morning. Boy, It just never gets boring in here.

My old radio

Back in the Mesozoic Age, when I was in sixth grade, I started having trouble sleeping. It would seem that all the sounds I’d heard throughout the day would start coming back to me, playing in my head over and over throughout the night.It was maddening.

After a couple of nights like this, I did the logical thing: I asked my mom. She decided it was time to give me my first radio. It wasn’t new, but it was better than new. It was a Toshiba, late 70’s model, back when listening to the radio was still cool, before people had cassette tapes and 8-tracks. It was solid black, and it had dials and knobs up the wazoo. Beside the usual volume, tuning and bass/trebble controls, it could pick up AM, FM, and about seven different frequencies I had never heard of. I loved how the dial lit up in green hues. And here was an interesting feature: it had a timer. You could turn on the radio and set up the timer to shut it down anywhere from 5 to 60 minutes. Conversely, if you set up the timer with the radio off, it would turn it on when the time ran out.

Right now, I can’t fathom the logic that was behind my mom’s solution, but she was right. I don’t remember ever having trouble sleeping anymore. But I remember a couple of sleepless nights toying with the knobs on that cool radio of mine.

The Cheat Sheet

Just now, as I was cleaning up my Mac, I came across a really old Word file. As I started reading it, memories flushed to my mind.

The year was 2000. I was young and single. I was meeting new people all the time, so I decided to start a file on the girls I was seeing.

Fast-forward to the present. I can’t place most of the girls on the list. And the one I can remember, I’d rather forget. But what is rather amusing about the file is the shallow little comments beside every entry: “Eats a lot”, “Loves the X-Men”, “Talks with a Mexican accent”. My favorite: “Her last boyfriend cheated on her and she is still willing to go back with him. Definitely not very bright”.

Wonder what they had to say about me.

Good Ol' Details

For a while now, I've been an off-again, on-again reader of Details magazine. I first approached the magazine during Mark Golin's 1999-2000 tenure as editor. His previous job had been at the helm of another famous male publication: Maxim.

Maxim

If you’ve never seen Maxim, basically it’s a male-oriented, babe-infested, macho-fest of a magazine. Booze, women, cars: that’s the core of the Maxim creed. Think of it as testosterone turned into a glossy periodical. But also, there’s the humor: wacky, void of any respect whatsoever. They make fun of Bush, the Pope, anybody. Even the captions on the photos are funny. Whenever I feel my IQ is soaring excessively high, I run to the newsstand for a copy of Maxim and balance my system with the dose of macho it sorely needs. It’s dumb, brainless fun: I totally love it!

However, my love of Maxim doesn’t extend to the Latin American version of the magazine, which is published in Mexico, like most of the mags we get in Kzanderallia. Their attempts to try to replicate the essence of US Maxim are depressing. Despite reusing a lot of material from the American edition, it still comes off as cheap, vulgar and crude publication that ultimately seems to be written by a bunch of monkeys with typewriters. Overpaid monkeys.

Mark Golin’s Details

Back then, Golin tried to apply the same formula that had served him so well at Maxim, toning it down a little bit. Not as many scantily-clad women, not so much booze. The funny photo captions did cross over, which I remember were a hook for me. Also, he put babes on the covers. (That was a bit confusing. Many people approaching the magazine for the first time –me included- thought it was a ladies’ mag) The magazine still looked after the metrosexual male of the new millenium with lots of fashion spreads and features on quirky (and pricey) accessories for the man who had it all. The writing was fast-paced, always interesting. They took a lot of risks. The design was fresh and exciting. The comedy was very sofisticated, and you had to be in-the-know to get all the jokes, which wasn’t easy.

This is where nostalgia kicks in. This was 2000. Before 9/11, before the digital bubble burst. Lots of people were making money off stocks and thought “Bin Laden” was some sort of new trendy spa. New Yorkers were cocky and loaded with cash, and wrote that way.

My first time

I had never seen a magazine quite like Details, and loved it right away. I vividly remember the place I bought my first Details at: a drugstore that isn’t around anymore. It was one of the few places carrying American magazines. I remember they only had the February issue, so I had to go to a warehouse downtown to get the January issue. Then I kept on buying Details monthly.

Unfortunately for me, I learned of Details about half into Golin’s run, from Jan to May 2000. But I will cherish those five issues forever.

Current Details

However, my affection for this flavor of Details was not shared by many. This period is considered by many as a lowpoint of the magazine. Long-time readers hated this Maxim clone, and wanted their old magazine back. Golin was fired and the next creative team sobered up the magazine dramatically. It even changed the size, making each page bigger. Gone were the ladies on the covers, the fratboy humor. The fashion stayed. Most of the writing staff didn’t.

Epilogue

Well, it wasn’t easy to realize that my beloved magazine was gone forever. I purchased the new Details, but didn’t really like it at first. I missed the wackiness, the easygoing spirit. Then the stock market crashed. The attacks happened. The era was over.

I haven’t really found any magazine like my old Details. There’s a few traces left of it in Maxim but the more brainy Details has managed to grow on me. Its writing style reminds me of GQ, which is another magazine I really like. But that’s a whole ‘nother story.