The plan was to pack up for the Yosemite camping on the weekend. the highlight of our month… oh,that is, not counting my birthday last week. that was way Fun-ner. free food… Pirates…maiden in distress….. water.Rarr. But this Yosemite trip would be something extra ordinary for us children of the highly privileged. Considering most of us, middle Earth citizens, have never actually seen live fish swimming in the aquarium free water, or have actually breathed carbon less air. im sure most of us would have withdrawals and night sweats with less of it so im packing extra tank filled with exhaust air from our van for extra air flavor just in case people get freaky from too bare O2.ow…ow… and there’ll be fire too.

So predicting it would be cold and nature-ly,we tried adding to our list of foreseen calamity needs tooth-brush, Pokemon band aids( for fatal health emergencies) beef jerky(good for protein),cellphone charger, marshmallows, cheap sleeping bags and a cupboard..?what?

I was going along  reading on features for my starcraft2 game when Jen called me to come over.She had this you’re gonna drop your jaw straight to kingdom-come when you see what I have here – look.

and yes, it was a cupboard. this was no ordinary cupboard too, this was the assemble it yourself if you think you can kinda thing cupboard  much like our cozy nightmare stimulating bed.

Talking her out of it makes snake crawling  the I-5 in the middle of the day look easy and her  smiling excitedly wasn’t helping either.

To grind a riposte, I was gonna comment on the degree of difficulty it would take to put it together but as soon as we reached home, she was on a roll, like a day after Christmas. Like Wall-e and surplus metals. Who knew prepping for camping would end  up rearranging the entire house.

from last weeks’ experience with the bed construction I am now positive that I have married a pure-blooded descendant of the Patriarch Noah.

At least, I don’t have to worry about ants stealing my Honey Bunch Cereals in the middle of the night.

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I’m off for the weekend.

and I could see myself lounging around like a hippo for 3 whole days. wake up 30 minutes past midnight, zombie-walk to the freezer and grab a 3 foot nutrient-filled-vanilla-coated-cookies ‘n cream- choco-fudge ice cream for an early breakfast. life could never be greater- Unless you  purchased a full bed from walmart, that needs assembling.

last week we decided to buy a new bed for the guest room in our brand new apartment. Somehow the idea of moving into a new place  really made an impact on  both of us that  seeing the  room half filled with boxes,unwanted clothes, pair-less shoes,a barrel of toxic waste and some old used tires  was unbearable.

So Jen, the Shop Guru, and  my mom, hit the web to search for the coolest neon- colored- full bed ever.

I’m not a connoisseur in bed mattresses or anything but I’ve always had this idea that beds are for comfort. soft and fluffy. simple. and parts shouldn’t  just fall off when two  100- pound adults decide to jump on them  on a boring Friday night.

before the weekend ended, we have cleaned the room and made ready for the newewst member of our small family. I took out the trash, piled boxes, hand-picked bazillion crumbs off the carpet (since we don’t have a vacuum), eradicated ants, stray horses, guinea pigs.

By monday, UPS called me to bring the package in. what I thought was a full stuffed bed with pillows,  inviting blankets with Canon playing in the background were 3 boxes and a mile long instruction list on how to assemble 6 planks of wood, 89 screws, 52 knots using an inch sized screw driver. it was like boyscout all over again.

IT’S A RIP OFF!  this was nowhere near  the picture they showed. there it was standing and firm and well lighted while these are all wood!After 16 hours of studying the manual(which translates all other languages aside English) we were able to holster it all in, we, as in Jen attaching all the screws and putting them all together while i do the most difficult manly job of internalizing the complex structural schematics.


i often wonder what makes the Most Interesting Guy In The World. why is he the way that he is.

its funny coz everyday, i open my web and find myself clicking interesting persons i know first. Celebrities, pretty people, fashion muguls. And it always makes me wonder what’s in their lives that makes them so damn interesting. what is in them that captivates empty souls like me?

we’ve heard of Justin Bieber getting famous on Youtube, the pretty Alodia striking inter-galactic fame through dressing up(Cosplay) and the up and coming, my favorite, Pomplamoose(with the soap). Far from plain ordinary, but they used to be. They used to be just the other person sitting beside you in class, or the one in the back flicking guitar sounds. We used to be better than them in math; used to share our lunch with; beat them in basketball.  even borrowed my pen and never gave it back !!!! (cries in prolonged agony)

but that was then. And here they are now. *gains back composure*

Graceful as a swan. Apple of our eyes.

well, back to my question. is being interesting/famous/extraordinary require skill and extra talent? or can one be like “The Most Interesting Man in the World” who, though nameless, holds the world in his soft hands.

“His blood smells like cologne…He taught a horse to read his email for him… If he we’re to punch you in the face, you’d have to fight off the urge to thank him… Sharks have a week dedicated to him..He once taught a German Shepard how to bark in Russian… His organ donor card also includes his beard”

Like the old Greek-Chinese-Budhist and partly Filipino saying, the greater things in life are small *woop*

I was out with the fiance the other day to pick out my tux-an equally challenging task.  

 To allow ample amounts of time to prepare myself emotionally, I had to cut off my working hours early to reserve myself for the rest of the day.

  Yes, this was planned  months ago, but this is Tuxedo day, you see. Women, on their part, have numerous days assigned for fitting and refitting their mile long gowns, not to mention, the bazillion hours of phone calls spent with girlfriends discussing the pros and cons of each and every gown in bridal magazines, while I, the lone groom, only have 1 day- ow, make that just 30 minutes, to be exact. 

This is, of course, one of those crucial times in marriage, along with wedding pictorials, family reunions and child support payments where a considerately productive groom-to-be or any real man, in that matter, are expected to perform exceedingly well…or at least, way up above  average.

 you understand the scenario I’m in  right? the level of pressure?

If there was a time in my life  I’d  wish I could be as suave as 007, this would be it. Go in the store, flip a cigar from my side pocket, say some french clothing-language that only me and the expert tailor comprehends; sit at the counter and leisurely  drop a killer “one liner, “Martini; shaken, not stirred”.

Unfortunately, like the realities of  espionage and make-believe movies, I was the clumsy green ogre that day, stumbling over a shelf of wedding brochures as we stepped in.

I always thought choosing tuxedos were easy. I mean, there are only 2 available colors to choose from for crying out loud and the designs, well, aside from worrying if its gonna be double-breasted or not the suits look basically the same.

but it turns out, when your inside a den filled with  black and white customary drapes for aspiring husbands, the similarities evaporate and now you face  endless variety of exquisitely designed tuxedos,silk, non-silk ,ties, bow ties, bent collars, straightened collars,  or whatever else they are.

Choices which are  too complex for my already shrinking pea-sized brain to decide on.

 I heard that one way of chosing the best one, something that’s truly YOU would be to close your eyes and listen to your heart decide.

 Well, I don’t exactly know how the heart tells you , maybe in a quick extra beat or a skip but walking inside the corridors filled with tagged coats, I had a feeling my heart decided to abandon me on this, or maybe missed its still small voice  for all I heard were my shoes squeeking on the well polished floor and terror-strickened soul screaming,  drowning from confusion and indecisiveness. 

I traversed each aisle aimlessly, touching each possible coat, hoping, nay, praying that one enchanted tux would connect with me.

 but there was silence. there were no sparks.

Fortunately, the fiance was there to lend me her expertise, holding my hand the whole time. Snapping me back from my hysteria. And without breaking a sweat, even with eyes closed she, in slow-motion, extended her finger and rested them gently on a black, double breasted, polyester tuxedo. 

Then the room glistened. 

I swear I heard angels singing right there.

For almost a month now , my struggle to gain supremacy toward my anatomy has been nothing but a failing quest. An elusive end.

Maybe it’s because it’s too ambitious of a goal for me or I have such a weak resolve.

Like Adam, I find myself unable to resist Eve’s  forbidden apple(literally).

I tried almost everything I could. From eating all-protein like lions , eating leaves and grass like goats( but this one I had to stop within a week out of fear of growing horns ), gulping algae like Ariel( little mermaid), running around the Rose Bowl( tried it for a day), biking to work, even the unimaginable, not eating chocolates(?). But  after all these unsuccessful efforts I remedied to check my weight  to at least once a week now rather than monitoring it daily to somehow cushion the blow of the slight 5 lbs increase in my body mass(ouch) and avoid bingeing, a rebound, brought about by mild depression.

Recently, my girlfriend is into Korean telenovelas.

She’s so into them that she started downloading korean applications on her itouch just to immerse herself with their culture and her korean infatuations.  Well, just a week ago, while spending QT, by QT, I mean watching her korean english subbed shows in youtube together, I had a sudden revelation. Why not incorporate my girlfriend’s obsession to my ever-failing quest?

here’s the logic: 

What does Asians, no, let’s just say Koreans, Chinese and Japanese have in common? yes. They are petite, THIN, healthy. and  what is it that they eat vigorously, their main diet? the secret where they attribute their flexible skinny bodies?yes again. NOODLES.

Now according to my deep analysis, if I can just start with that diet, I would be inches away from maintaining a thinner more agile structure. ka-chingggg!!

And so I run to the nearest seafood mart and bought myself dozens of them quick noodles, the ones they showed where cute Koreans guys from “Boys over Flowers” are eating.

And true enough, after I managed to operate the chopsticks to work and started sipping through the soup and noodles, I could immediately feel its effects encapsulating my still-flubby body. After a few sips, my stomach was already filled with a mixture of  fresh air, spicy soup and wiggly noodles. I’ve never felt this healthy before and now I feel full. no longer hungry like i was 2 minutes ago.

Maybe the noodles grant me an illusion of  being filled, but so far it works. for as long as it helps me avoid eating gluttonously and not feel weak from hunger at the same time then it’s alright.

for the sake of transient beauty I’ll do it all.

Three months ago I made a pact with the devil in me to not just loss 60 lbs of weight but also have a physique as manly as spartan warriors, with hardened muscular spheres prettifying every inch of their bronze body, or atleast… closer .

I could not understand how one  who’s covered with hardened tissue and mineral oil could be such a spectacle to behold, or how a guy with a lesser abdominal diameter than mine be more pleasing. 

But like the rest of us,I am hot-wired to be a sucker for conventional beauty. and beauty in our generation is realized by the absence of tasty edibles, exaggeratedly chiseled muscles and crotch grinding leggings.

For the first month i have deligently abstained from eating meat of any kind and decreased my eating of rice to half a cup each day. It has been excruciating, especially when all my coworkers deliberately bring  moutwatering delicacies at lunchbreaks upon hearing of my new found devotion. like she-devils, they  entice me with their wares. But somehow i managed.

The hardest part though was learning how to deny myself the gratification of being full. and with this new lifestyle my extra distended stomach could  barely be filled. Last week, as I was once again dreading the culmination of my short lunch break, I decided to drown my weariness with water as I watch my pig of a coworker indulge himself with his jucy Big ‘n tasty burger with large fries and a coke. with each bite,I gulp my much needed H20; with each fry, a gulp of this abundant life sustaining moisture. at the end of  our break, I emptied  5 liters of our office water- which made our owner and the rest of my officemates to wonder if our water fountain is broken or has a leak or something. And of course, I was there in the corner innocently whistling, trying to look busy and indulged in my work.

With the help of daily push ups and  my girlfriends laundry and groceries I managed to cram in an inch-size-bulge in my upper arm. Biceps. Guns…mine looks more like a seniorita. a miniature sized gun-a miniature sized muscle. but as a budding muscle builder this tiny hope of contractile tissue is a ray of light.

Its a 24-hour struggle, every day of the week. And for an untrained apprentice, each day lasts  a lifetime.  An excruciatingly long lifetime.

For the first month alone, I saved 15 cows, 20 varieties of salt and fresh water fishes, fed 6 malnourished homeless bums and lost…2 lbs.

I may not look like a spartan king now with all his flexed muscles and killer good looks but  for my consulation, at least,I….. saved lives.