Rated R and R

While I had initially planned to cruise until the year ended, there have been some slight deviations to that plan. I’m not complaining, since it’s been an amazing and productive year, and I don’t mind ending it on an even higher note.

Before I get tot he details of my exploits from the past couple of weeks, as usual, I have something to get off my chest. It burns my ass when people try to be clever when they’re not, but, what’s more annoying is that when they it their uninspired, ineffective zingers, with borrowed catchphrases like “boom”, probably in hopes of making their miraculously amusing. No. No. No, no, no. It doesn’t matter if you add “boom”, or “what”, or whatever other asinine thing you see from TV or movie characters that you like but will never, ever, be like, a weak burn is a weak burn. Ending them in such a cheap manner is tantamount to laughing at your own joke. It’s pathetic.

Boom.

Ahurm. Ignore that. Moving on.

Sealing the Deal.

I’ve always kinda liked pitch meetings. In some weird way, I love the preparation, the entire urgency of the whole thing. Just you, your idea, and a bunch of jaded people that think that there’s no way you can ever blow their minds. (Despite the fact that more than half the time, they’re pretty easily convinced.) It’s oddly gratifying.

Such was the elation I felt after the Big Man and I met up with the producer and the singer of the song for the music video we’ve been asked to make. After an entire day at the Think Tank and not really working while listening to the song that, to be honest, is something I would not voluntarily listen to in a hundred years and prepping, the Big Man and I went to this bar of ill repute to get my focus on. (The combination of beer and loud music keeps me centered. It’s why I never do stand up dry.)

Getting drunk AND the job done.

We were then off to Makati in some really old timey bar that blows the Pub I go to in Alabang out of the water in sheer novelty and then I did my thing. Not too sound too cocky, but I wasn’t surprised the meeting went well. (Not overconfidence of any kind. They called us to do the job. I could have come in there proposing a three minute close up of shit and they’d just shrug and say, “do it”.)

One weird sidenote though. In my last post, I was talking about how the singer was some washed up dude and all that, cause that’s how he was introduced by the guy producing the video. Turns out he’s doing a whole lot better than most of us. Huh.

Still, it was a great night, and regardless of the fact that I was awake for more than 24 hours, we had to celebrate. So back to the bar in Cavite and that was when I drank until closing time with a 19 year old dancer once more. (More about her later.)

I love nights like that.

An Actual Vacation.

Just days after that meeting came the much awaited vacation with the guys. Zambales, a place where I have more than my fair share of memories in, welcomed us with open arms as it was three days of swimming, singing, laughing, and surprisingly enough, a small amount of bickering, almost no drinking whatsoever, and a sprained knee.

The three-day trip was long overdue, as I have spent the majority of the year working. (People from the Think Tank would scoff at this, considering how I treat the place as nothing more than a working vacation, but if they only knew the extent of the shit I do outside of the office, I’m sure they’d be surprised.) If there was one person that needed and deserved a vacation it was me.

The first day included bad omens, a really long fucking drive, people getting lost, traffic violations, and perhaps the best damn adobo I’ve ever had. Me and some of the boys ended the day with a swim in the lake and an impromptu photoshoot with possible homoerotic undertones.

The second day was spent at the beach, where I did my annual rock burying ritual. As I alluded to in a previous post, 2012 has been so good to me that this year, I only buried one rock. There was only one thing from the year that didn’t really go well, and while a bunch of bad things happened (like when me and the Big Man were at odds or when the Tapa King got kicked out of the group), those events brought forth good things in the long run. There was only one that brought little to no positive to it, and that’s the one thing I’m leaving behind in that beach.

Pretty, right? Imagine seeing nothing but that for 3 to 4 hours. It can be both good and bad.

The day in the beach also resulted in me spraining my knee. Playing a children’s game. In the beach. And yes, alcohol was involved, but it can’t take all the credit. There’s also old age, lack of coordination, and the general stupidity I have to thank for the discomfort. It’s all good, though. Physical injuries are a sign of an awesome vacation, I believe.

The third day was the trip back, and given the condition of my leg, I decided to ride in the back of the pick up for more than half of the way back. This may sound weird, but that ride was kinda the highlight of the entire trip for me. Don’t get me wrong, the trip was awesome, but those hours of nothing but the wind in my hair, the sun in my face and the music in my ears was exactly what I needed. I needed time to think, and during those hours of introspection, aided by the amazing sights all around me, I have managed to figure a lot of things out. I won’t be discussing them now, but they will be manifesting in the next several months and in the coming year. I’m both new and old, and it’s going to be awesome.

Here Comes Trouble.

The day after I got back South, throbbing sprained knee and all, I met up with the Dancer to see a movie. Just to be clear, we are not romantically involved. I like having her around though, because, among other things, there are very few people in my spheres that I can really respect beyond the socially expected manner.

At the age of 19, she already displayed the will and resolve that, in my opinion, the Tapa King will never be able to muster in his entire life, been through, going through and will successfully go through stuff that the more “privileged” people I’ve met (particularly in the past 18 months) will not have an ice cube’s chance in hell of even withstanding, and she does all this without becoming (as far as I know) a selfish, cynical, overly dramatic, person. The fact that she’s cheerful and bubbly in the face of all that, well, it reminds me of the people in Purgatory, who helped me through my toughest year yet, the Scoobies, and even myself and some of the guys.

I’m rarely impressed by anyone. Hell, the last time I was impressed by someone, he turned out to be a dickbag. (Is that a word?) But, this one’s different. So yeah, I like having her around. Let’s leave it at that for now.

Another Friday in Marbles.

I ended the work week by drinking with one of my fellow part timers in my second favorite bar in the world... Marbles. (Since my first favorite bar is closed, I’m guessing Marbles should take the default position, but that’s a discussion for another time.)

It was a night that was the product of one guy’s rather inconsiderate and somewhat selfish decision, but it turned out okay. It was nice getting some time alone with everyone’s favorite firewyman (I don’t know if I spelled that right.). Incidentally, a little over a year ago, she and I also drank one on one in that same bar. That’s was a nice throw back, and I went home thinking how many things have changed over the several months.

One More Sketch.

When I decided to stop writing for TV for a bit and rest my messed up system, I thought I wouldn’t be writing any moderately funny stuff for the Gang anymore. Hell, when I received the phone call from the director, as dismissed it as a polite phone call people in the industry normally do.

Surprisingly enough, on a Sunday night where I was bored as hell and looking for things to do, I got a text from the director asking me to come up with a rush script for a sketch. While I used to hate it when they’d do that (and in all fairness, they rarely do) I was pumped about being able to write for the gag show that I grew up watching at least one more time before the year ended.

I don’t know if it’s just me and my hours long introspection, or things are actually falling into place, but things are getting better. I don’t want to jinx it, but here’s hoping 2013 is a year wherein I no longer need to bury rocks in the beach. It can be done, you know. I did it before. No reason why I can’t do so again.