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.


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.

Its great to be back here again. Its been pretty hectic this past months with the wedding and changing jobs and moving apartments. and finally, it seems like the dust are slowly settling down, just enough to have a breather.

Thank God.

Well, it seems like i have enough time today so I might put up some long over-due pictures from the past 3 months.. maybe a few will do.

ever since the first kiss, a kiss on her forehead is still one of her favorites

we had to wait for a few minutes for the right sunlight so we started playing in the water

the grass and meadow was great that felt so soft. this was taken in calabasa where the kardashians live.wooot woot

she looks so comfortable here. i dont know but the grass and the wind and her top makes it looks so korean-ish. *wink wink

karen and kathy were there all day to help us. a billion thanks guys. here they provided some extra spice and drama.taken while waiting for the tram

photographed by Andy Seo

heres some of the moments from the wedding 05.23.10

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we had so much fun. its weird when its your wedding coz you really cant eat that much … but i heard the food and those little food stuff were really nice too..

photographed by Andy Seo

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 wanted to be famous.  To be in the movies. On billboards. On commercials. I wanted to do a slo-mo, with my hair gliding gracefully with the wind as I turn to face the camera with my close up. I wanted to be a celebrity.

I remember when I was  at grade school, when the “Ang TV “, a tv show with children and young teens as their main characters  first came out, I was ecstatic to join.

Everyday, I would stand in front of my parent’s gigantic mirror and tried my best to master my cutest and sun-stopping smile. Playing out in mind possible scenes for my soon-to-be audition – An abandoned child; a knight fighting for the love of his maiden who was transformed into  a slimy ogre-looking fly;   a prince surviving a fatal wound  after slaying an evil mage; or a hunk gasping for air, almost drowning while saving a helpless half-naked beauty from the abyss; or a talented actor pretending to be surprised and in shock after winning a Grammy.

I can give you a Kristine Hermosa crying scene from “Pangako sa ‘Yo” just to avoid being spanked by my aunt for misbehaving and get away with it. The tears would be so genuine and convincing that she’d feel torn and bring us out for a 2-peso ice cream to apologize for  raising her voice.

This was my forte. Dramatic Arts.

But while acting was second to breathing for me. Smiling wasn’t. It was kryptonite for my Clark Kent. You see, as a 9-year-old prodigy like me, this was my sole artistic flaw -my Achilles’ heel per se.

And as an avid movie critic I could say that having a prominent smile is fundamental and not to mention critical for a promising actor. I wont even dare count the millions of  promotions John Pratt had on ads like Close up toothpaste for his “well shown-teeth” smile.

Sadly, it would be years till I can parade the various dimensions of my smile. Years before I can awe the world with its grandeur.  So  while I forge and wait, I  painstakingly watched Maxine Magalona, Kaye Abad, Patrick Garcia, Rico Yan take up the roles I was born to do.

By the time my facial muscles finally submitted to my bidding, accede to  my persuasion and  formed a beautiful grin, I was 20 years late . By this time, the Ang TV show was long gone, actors of my age have left the limelight and started to live as adults. The nearest media exposure I could attain at this age would be  from news reporters interviewing for political poll ratings or a water shortage complaint. None for commercials. No more close-ups. No more center stage.

But Fame, I’d say, is not  bound on the limits of “acting” alone. It flourishes from academics, flexibility in sports, glass-breaking high-pitched voices, or acne-free porcelain skin. Even a boring, normal life written in a well-organized and entertaining larger-than-life blog could be one’s long-awaited break…

..oh, wait, does that really work or is it just me wishing?

I’m a celebrity… please take me!

Weeks ago, me and a friend had a rigorous debate about politics . Considering that  just in a few months, that small island in the Pacific is gonna have its long-awaited Presidential election and according to some, a turning point in our republic.

Somehow, along the conversation my friend accused me of being a cynic referring to my lack of belief on politicians and my absence in voting during my 20-year residence in the country; said that it is our social obligation to pass our vote and choose the bestest candidate, for he/she can reshape our beloved Philippines into something better.

if you have read my previous post regarding my country’s political status, you might understand where I’m going  with this. Politics in my country, has, is and always will be corrupt. It has been like that to a  highest degree that even a simple transaction as to taking a driver’s test requires you to pay a hefty amount. failing to do so would deny you a licence. it’s not optional either, like a tip, it’s a requirement, more like a standard in operation. A friend of mine tried to test that system  once and chose to take the regular test without paying shady personnel for it. and as expected, failed the test in all counts.

To be considerably wealthy in my country, and to do it in the shortest time, one must become a political officer. nothing boosts your general income as fast as jueteng payoffs, invisible housing funds, unfinished road repairs, and unnamed employees clocked in, to name a few. But of course, not all so called-“servants of the people” are like that, there are a few who are doing their services diligently and have Rizal’s flame in their hearts.  A few.

And how much difference can that few make? for some, like my friend there, they’d say, “enough”, enough to start a ripple of change, a ripple of hope.

Actually, that few begun  their ripples centuries back.  But 200 years later, now, how many ripples are left creating influence? have they increased ten-fold or decrease to a heartbreaking low?

like echoes from a loud cry, our voices of change have slowly faded in time.

On the 7,107 islands, how many care enough to live honestly in life’s difficulties? live in virtue without selling or bribing for a quick meal or convinience?how many leaders give their best in service without asking for anything back?or graciously turns over their position at the end of their term? still a few. We all heard the cry, the silent echos in our corridors, everybody did. We all heard the stories but somehow we are too preoccupied digging ourselves out from our own personal troubles that we forget that these problems are interconnected, that we, as a people,  are in this shit  hole together.

The hard truth is that ripples of good ideals and trumpets of patriotism doesn’t affect poor and hungry people anymore. No matter how hard we fight to change it, our efforts would always, I’ll repeat, “always”, come short ether because a.) people are too miserable to change or, b.) there will always be a majority who’d rather meet their greediness first before the common good.

To anchor your dreams on them, on our government, waiting for things and people to change would be like riding  a sinking ship with you vigorously trying to scoop the water out while the rest of the people are busy poking holes on it.

For me, the best way to survive this jungle of a country, where the weak gets eaten and the rich becomes richer, is to stop relying on others and gear up for yourself. Your mayors, your congressmen…your president care for you only until their campaign ends, only when your vote and support is needed for their poll ratings to go up. This is reality, not the make-believe world we dream of when we were toddlers in the safety of our parent’s arms.

I believe the room for change, unfortunately, has become as narrow as a needle’s eye-maybe too much for one president and a devoted few to chew on.

If being realistic and practical is being cynical, then how can you not be? how can you stay naive and live as if you are an outsider? how can you pretend to?

Reform can only start when one sees the problem.