Cowboy Up

I am merely days away from heading to Hong Kong for the highlight of my year, and the past two weeks have been filled with both pleasant and unpleasant surprises. The majority of which were pleasant, and very uplifting. The unpleasant, while minimal, tend to have a devastating effect. I guess it all depends on how one perceives things.

All I'm going to say is that I'm fired up. THe whole HK thing started off as something to just end the year on a high note. The past couple of weeks elevated that to something more. It's like 2004 all over again, and I'm greeting the end of the year with a smile, minor resentments notwithstanding.

The Haircut inducing Homecoming. I'm back in Cavite full-time now, and bidding adieu to my last Fortress wasn't really that much of a big deal. After all, it didn't exactly measure up to my first Fortress in terms of emotional attachment and key events. It had its moments, like the first day I moved in and the Cheerleader made the phone call asking me to take her back, and the night Hannah stayed over, and the night after the break up, wherein the place was flooded, and I realized latent feelings for someone the day after. Compared to other places I lived in, it offered nothing more than convenience.

Being back at home, seeing how my new space has been make me feel truly comfortable, it's easy to forget that I'm no longer living alone. Unfortunately, there are times wherein the crowdedness becomes extremely obvious. The way I see it, the more people live in one place, the more fucked up things can be. While right now, there are only three people living in this house (me, my errant brother, and the newly rehired nanny that raised us), the entire place is littered with too many familiar faces. The niceness (for someone like me who's not used tot hat sort of thing) can drive a person mad. And it nearly did.

On a day wherein someone did a colossal fuck up which led to the ruination of my plans, I was so distraught that, left with no other outlet, I had a fucking haircut. An butt guy one. I've had one hairstyle the past two or three years (of varying lengths, of course) and since I just had to get rid of something, why not that. It wasn't the fuck up that really stressed me out though, it was the fact that people just told me to rest (I had spent the night working at the BIg Man's project) while they took care of it. That was way too surreal.

Basically, I'm still getting acclimated to the whole thing. Even when I've been living with certain people, I've made it a point to rely on no one. Now I've got people seemingly looking out for me. I shrugged it off as something I just need to get used to, but then, my mother mentioned that she'll be going to join me in HK. Not that I mind, but I don't know, I think it's too weird. It's fueling certain theories I've been having. It's not important now though. I have too much on my plate to worry about shit like that. Maybe when things normalize I can get to the bottom of this thing.

Gas Station Conversations. The Big Man and I had another one of those gas station drinking sessions that went well into the morning. Not having the Make Up Artist around is a good thing, in any scenario. We talked mostly about the other women in his life. Mostly.

I try to avoid talking about my own shit these days when I'm around him. He's got problems with the house, money, work and even emotional shit that can't be dealt with within the confines of a single drinking session. Maybe we'll work on that, again, when I finish with this contest thing. Maybe.

The Think Tank Experience Surprisingly Like College. I spent some time with the co-workers as someone from the Think Tank celebrated her birthday old school style with dinner and domestic drinking. After an entire day of work, it was nice to see the various little groups of the Think Tank in one room, sharing a meal and playing a few games in one area. I felt the same feeling I used to get back when I was in college, when I'd be in one of those dorm room drinking sessions, surrounded by people I barely know and me with a genuine desire to know more. I haven't felt like that in ages. In fact, the last time I felt like getting to know more people was during my last semester in college. The popery from Purgatory were just interesting enough that sharing experiences came naturally, and everyone else I met after graduation pretty much opened up on their own without any prodding from me. I don't know if it's a temporary thing, but these days I actually care about people.

I guess it's about being in an office that I like, is all. To paraphrase Tim, from the UK show The Office, you spend the majority of your time without he people that you work with, more so than your family and actual friends. You come different backgrounds, different places, and at some point, you're going to have to break barriers.

I've always had the luxury of having people outside of work to fall back on and the freedom from conventional real world constraints, but there's something about these people at the Think Tank that piques my interest. The things they go through, all the drama that I usually shy away from, it all interests me.

The Fund Raising. All the other riffraff aside, the main focus in my life currently is the contest. And considering the meager amount I make, I had to do some fund raising to actually get me there. It's been a great source of fatigue on my part, and the end result, was worth it. Getting into the contest was the first phase, and that was hard enough, The past two weeks weren't easier, but damn.

Of all the people in my life, I wasn't expecting the Think Tank to pitch in on this pipe dream, but pitch in they did, in an amazing manner. While not everyone was able to help financially, the moral support and the kind words were very overwhelming, especially since I'm just the guy who rarely shows up for work. On of them even put up the RRFF, the Rene-is-Really-Funny-Fund, and I have to say, that makes me smile every time I think about it. I'm looking at the little Disney Princess thingy they put the money in. If I wasn't so damned drained I would have wept in front of all of them.

The people from Purgatory also chipped in, and while they weren't able to give as much as they wanted, the thought that they'd support a guy who left their ranks is nothing but humbling. My BFF hugging me (in the middle of the fucking highway no less) telling me "Kailangan ko na umuwi, peer I love you, pare" is one of the more touching moments in this particular chapter in my life. Two years ago, she and I were getting high as Ondoy came crashing, now there we were. The others did an awesome job at making me feel good about it too, particularly Ghil, who took it upon herself to work on getting my solicitation letter out there. Two years ago, we were celebrating "Broken Promises Day". I wonder what we'll be doing next year.

Of course, the Scoobies remain supportive. They gave their contributions on a very pleasant night at the Grill. We even fleshed out plans for my 30th birthday. (The discussion as to why we can't have a road trip by riding a plane was priceless.) After the contest, that's the one thing I'm looking forward to.

The GIrl Who Saved My Life has her entire church praying for me, I heard. And I also got nice messages from TheTherapist and her people, and I appreciate Jo F'n Regis' efforts in helping me with the application video. (Sorry that didn't pan out, too many things going on, man.)

The Big Man helped me sell my other laptop (though I'm sure it was more about the profit for him than supporting me, but what the hell), the laptop I bought off Hannah a year ago. And The Critic, of all people, even pitched in not just with money, but a little something extra to take off the edge. (Drinking once more with the Critic was a fun experience as well. Once, we all used to have a constant Sunday afternoon drink, but these days, it's all about the strip clubs and other shit. It's nice to be able to just hang back and chill old school style once in a while and be juvenile.)

I mentioned before that part of the reason why I chose to approach specific people or funds and not everyone I know is that I was going for something symbolic. I wanted to go to HK, while physically alone (or so I thought), I was in some way bringing all of these people with me. The same way Buffy drew strength from her own Scooby gang to defeat Adam, that's what I'm doing. (Did that come off a little gay?)

Points to Prove. With the overwhelming (I've been using that word a lot) support, it's hard not to feel confident. It's a good thing there're still some people who'd put your feet back on the ground. Too bad it was in a rather douchey manner. Someone dissed online, and while I don't know and can't know for sure if it was intentional, it did light a fire under my ass almost as much as the people who supported me would.

Initially, this was just something that I wanted to do, regardless of the outcome. After all of that, now I'm ore determined than ever to walk away victorious. While I'm not exactly a shoo-in to win, but I've been in this situation several times before, where I'd go out of my way just to prove a certain contingent of people wrong. Hell, I think I work better when no one expects me to come out on top.

After everyone's influence, both good and bad, I'm heading to Hong Kong with a new perspective. I'm not just representing myself this time, and I never wanted to represent my country. I'll be representing these people. Thank you for making me feel larger than life again. I needed that.

"Can we pretend that airplanes

In the night sky
Are like shooting stars
I could really use a wish right now (wish right now, wish right now)" - B.o. B., "Airplanes"

The Third Act?

It's good to be focusing on a singular thing again. While I have been extremely busy with everything I'vegotten myself into personally and professionally, the whole Hong Kong thing has given me the one thing that I always need but don't consistently have: something to look forward to.

It's one of the pitfalls of having little or no reservations about pursuing anything you want; at some point you're going to feel like you've done everything worth doing. I don't mind it that much, especially since I've designed my life in a manner where I get everything done by the time I'm thirty.

I try not to dwell on what comes after. I'll face all of that once I'm done with this latest passion project, as usual.

The Passport. After several years of urging from various members of my extended life, I finally found a reason to get my passport renewed. Back then, I dismissed the notion of having one, thinking its absence would be another good reason to remain in the country. While I have a tendency to move around a lot, I don't really like traveling. In fact, I hate it. I used to even hate going on vacation. For me, if you feel the need to get away from it all, then there's something terribly wrong with your current station in life. I guess that's why I moved around so much (houses, groups of friends, relationships, jobs). I've been looking for a place and a set of circumstances that's ideal for me. It's a little too early to tell, but if things continue as they are right now, I might have found it.

Watching the hordes of people patiently standing in line, getting their documentation ready, obtaining the key to allow them passage to other places that are faraway from here, I have more than a little trouble understanding what they feel. Then again, I'm sure the majority of them would fail to understand why I'd participate in an endeavor that's far away, and with a high possibility of failure, on a trip that I definitely am not able to afford.

Purgatory, 2009 Style. The contest is a very big deal for me, but it's still not enough for me to take any measure I can that would ensure I get the funding I need. I selected very specific people that I would approach for assistance in this matter, the symbolism being that I'd be going there physically alone, but spiritually without he support of the best people I've ever been lucky enough to be associated with. Of course, it was the Scoobies that were the first on my list. Coming in second were the people from Purgatory.

My decision a few months back to reconnect with specific people in my past every week has been an enriching one, and I think it has been leading up to this year's quest. a few months ago, I reunited with some of the Purgatory people, but a couple of weeks back, on a Friday morning, that was when I truly felt their spirit.

I had initially decided to ask one person from the group to help me out, but she brought a couple of other faces along with her. Being able to shout the word "TARA!" again on the streets of Northgate at 5 in the morning, hear it resonate against those glass windows, felt really good. That familiar call resulted in us, sitting in a circle, faced with two buckets of beer and we drowned ourselves in early morning laughter and inebriation. It was 2009 all over again, without the shitty circumstances.

Man, two years went by too fast. There were updates, as usual. Last time, the biggest news was that one of them finally came out the closet. This time, one of our esteemed brethren got thrown in jail. Another got dumped by her boyfriend, despite their plans of getting married. Another was still depressed over being cheated on. My lack of funds to get to Hong Kong did not seem to matter, regardless of my personal desire. These are real people with real problems, and after being exposed mostly to First World problems for the most part of last year and early this year, I'm reminded of my I hold these individuals in high regard.

I had a great morning filled with memories with good people (even The Boss showed up, and that's always a treat) and a promise of assistance along with it. Whatever happens, I'm not going to let these people go.

The 3 and Oh with The Scoobies. I've already mentioned the Scoobies earlier, and I had a really great time with them as well. It was the same day I met with the people from Purgatory, or to be accurate, it was several hours after. It was Marvi's 30th birthday, and that would have made the night special enough. Marvi seemed to have spared no expense, and that I completely understand, being one who is less than half a year away from becoming 30 myself.

Beer, music, and the usual Scooby shenanigans all make for a good night. Marvi's emotional response to Shelly's lovelife, Nikki's comments that were obviously laced with bitterness, the gratuitous picture taking, hell, even Weng and Natz' absence have become an unofficial tradition. They seemed enthusiastic about helping me out with the whole Hong Kong thing, so much so that they had me perform in front a drunken crowd in the hopes of raising funds. I don't know if it worked, but it was admittedly fun.

It's a testament to how highly I think about the Scoobies that I let them get away with things that no other person in my life, past or present, regardless of relationship status, have never gotten away with. Marvi is the only person that can "scold" me that I actually listen to and surprisingly follow. Nikki is the only person who has bossed me around that didn't get a dose of the "Professor Cruz Special". Natz can say, and have said, the stupidest shit, and I let it fly without an insult. Shelly's the only person who has ever told me (during the time when she was dating this dude who tried to pick a fight with me) to be patient and I did it without arguing. Weng is… well, I don't see enough of Weng for her to actually do stuff that I normally don't like, so I'm going to move on. I've had jobs, bosses, friends and girlfriends that I've walked away from for doing the same things the Scoobies have done. The same way the 90s gave me my Hidalgo Boys, this decade of my life has produced the Scoobies, and they're family now.

There's no way I'm turning 30 without them.

Another Weekend, Another Strip Club Run. Speaking of the Boys, it seems that every time I post about them these days, it always includes another tale of a strip club visit. It's funny, a few weeks ago, the Big man and I were really broke but determined to drink, and we showed his newfound little brother how we rolled back in the day, when we were both unemployed and far from the "distinguished professionals" that we are. (I couldn't even write that with a straight face.)

A couple of weekends ago, we showed that same brother, without he help of Mr. Guerrero and another face from our past, how to have fund in a strip club on a very limited budget. It involved a contest to see which one was slicker. Mr. Guerrero, a strip club veteran who once unintentionally fucked his cousin, and the other guy (I haven't got enough info on him yet to give him a nickname) who once allowed the Human Torch to sleep with a girl that he liked and then got irked when he found out that the Torch couldn't umm… "flame on" on that night. He carries that subtle anger with him this day.

That, plus a little high speed drunk driving, equals the newfound little brother's introductory class to Weekends 101, a course I've been teaching to noobs since 1999.

Kebab Comedy Night. Amidst all the chaos and fundraising drama, I also had to still perform to keep my limited on stage skills sharp. Marvi's birthday party was a good ay to shake off stage rust, and the Kebab Bob comedy night allowed me to get into full swing. It was a so-so night, but I did enjoy the extended geek talk afterwards with my fellow comedians.

Am I ready for Hong Kong? Financially, no. Performance-wise, not really. Do I care? Fuck no.

Trouble at the Little Side Project. Of course, it hasn't been all shits and giggles for the past two weeks. The Big Man's little project is edging perilously close to failure due to several factors. He has expressed several times over the course of the past two weeks a desire to pack up, if not for a lack of options.

One good thing he's displayed throughout the ordeal is that he allowed me to one of the few things I do best. Ever since he asked to join his team, I've been observing potential as well as recurring problems in all aspects of job. I kept silent about it when he declined my offer to talk about it after the team's first and potentially only night out. Me, I only work as hard as whoever is leading me, and when I made that offer, he not only declined, but even offered that if I really wanted to talk about it, I should come by his house. We're friends and all, but there's a line there that should not be crossed. I mean, come on. He asked me to join the team. My findings would, in all honesty, benefit him and not me, as the success of his project is more deeply ingrained in his life and not really mine. Besides, it's his project. If he wasn't concerned, I shouldn't be.

A few weeks later, lack of results and the presentation of new problems finally shook him enough to actually embrace the job. In turn, I think, he also remembered why I was on the team in the first place. So I did my thing. If the project would be a bust, then it would go down swinging. Seeing the BIg Man actually devote time by showing up at the Fortress in the afternoon showed me that he was serious. To be frank, and at the risk of ticking him off cause I know he reads this, we didn't really need to meet. I had the whole thing laid out in my head already. I just needed to see if he really was serious about stepping up. See, it's not that he's bad at what he does, it's just that he has a tendency to be complacent, even with things that supposedly matters to him.

There is no assurance that what I cooked up will succeed, but I think it's important that the Big Man sees the urgency enough to act upon it. In doing so, the rest of the team should, and perhaps would, be stepping up their game as well. On a sidenote, if it does work, all I ask is for the due credit. Not for ego or anything else, it's just important to me to be able to operate in a work where the people around are aware of what I can be capable of to avoid nasty situations. Much like in college or in some of the jobs I had, people may crack jokes about how I'm a walking beer barrel and such, but they know that when it comes down to the essentials, I can deliver. I can't work well when surrounded by doubt.

I do hope the project achieves a measure of success, if only to maintain a particular status quo I've come to appreciate over the past couple of years. Plus, as I may have mentioned before, it's the first time the Big Man actually involved himself in something he actually wants (aside from his marriage) and when a friend commits himself to something he or she truly wants, regardless of whether you agree with it or not, it is your duty to support that.

God knows my friends have supported every single stupid act I've committed since I was 16.

Swimming Around the Think Tank. I have gone on record before that for the first time ever, I have found a job and a company that is ideal for me. Flexible schedule, sensible people, ideal location, and I get paid depending on how much I work. I have spent more and more time in the Think Tank and spoken with more people who work there in the recent weeks, and I admit to a growing affection for the most of them. From people with problems with their lovers, to the little issues between co-workers, and the fact that I'm in a position to be a completely impartial observer to most of that due to my relatively irregular appearances, I may have truly found a place where I'd be more than happy to render my services for years to come. (That's a claim I've never made before.)

I do hope I don't get fired. (Another claim I've never made before.)

The BIg Move. I have begun moving back to my mother's house. The BIg Man assisted me, with the Makeup Artist in tow, and the whole experience of gathering my things (most of them) and moving back to my supposedly original home felt a tad weird at first. I couldn't help but think about all the places I've lived in over the past 15 years. (I've been moving back and forth since before I graduated high school.) From the elaborate house that I grew up in, to the simple two bedroom nook I shared with my father, to "party central" where I spent most of my college years, to one of my mother's houses, to the Critic's place, Jeorge's, the Big Man's, the tiny apartment with Pmay that was frequented by SosoJeff and his wife, then back to the Critic's, then the first Fortress, and then the latest one… each place symbolizes a specific period in my life and bore witness to some of the best and worst moments in my personal history.

Now, I'm here. I don't expect great things, but I'm guessing that a real home usually tends to be boring. And the truth is, I've been aching for some nice boredom for quite a while now.

State of the My Own Private Nation. Right now, all I care about is going to the contest. If I could make at least one member of that audience laugh, I'd be happy. The past two weeks have been somewhat a preview of things to come, and like I said, I'd focus on that after the competition. One thing is for sure, though. Once I hit 30, it all ends. One way or another, the guy that everyone knows and probably loves even on a minimal level will be gone. It's going to be a new decade, a new era, and yes, I still have a schedule to keep. Those things I'll discuss soon.

Those who are reading this, well, donate to my cause, you cheap bastard! Fuck pandas! Send a comedian to Hong Kong! It's the stylish cause of the day!

Just kidding. About the stylishness of my cause, not about the pandas. Fuck 'em.

This Year's Story

It's been two weeks since I updated these pages, but I've been extremely busy. At least, more so than usual. With the year slowly coming into its final stretch, I'm feeling a level of elation that pretty much allowed me to act with the same confident strength that I've come to rely on that only living a life of semi-isolation can provide.

The past two weeks started out with minor pessimism for me. I heard something a petty and unnecessarily defensive remark from one of my old friends directed towards old colleagues that painted the first of my two weeks with a less than excitable hue. I never expected that kind of disillusionment would be the catalyst of potentially great things, but it did light some sort of fire under my ass to get my affairs in order and to ensure that I continue living life values, principles and beliefs intact.

A Real Good Night. The comment that kicked off my extended pondering came on a Monday night. I was having a conversation with the Big Man on our way to his little project. It was a casual talk, mostly I was just updating him about everything I had come to learn about our high school classmates. It was pleasant, and we were laughing and shit, but when I mentioned something about most of them going in and out of the country for financial reasons, he responds with how he doesn't need to leave the country to buy whatever it was that these people are working hard to get. While I may be reading too much into it, I was still taken aback, partly because it's an attitude that, aside from surprising, was clearly unbecoming and it was a comment that was uncalled for. Status was something that me and my old friends never really put much stock into, but then again, I may just be glossing over my past. Of course, I started thinking of the people in my life that have recently exhibited similar mentality. Certain exes, certain friends and acquaintances, it all came back to me and kinda bugged me all night. I used to roll with legends, but most of those legends are fading because of the growing susceptibility to self image pitfalls. Old age? You can't blame everything on that.

Then, the following night gave me a measure of peace. There has been a drought in the Think Tank and pretty much everyone was grasping for work to do. On that night, I once again found myself alone in the office, waiting for work to arrive, when I got a message from a fellow Think Tanker who was in definite need of company and, at the very least, laughter. Nothing was getting done, and I was pretty sure I could provide both for her, so I figured, what the fuck, right?

I went to her place (after getting lost and ending up in the wrong apartment complex, knocking on the wrong door and waking up and pissing off the wrong person). We hung out, and she told what was bugging her. Apparently, she was seeing someone who comes from a very well off family. Her lover went sick, and out of concern, she paid an unexpected visit. Long story short, it ended with her lover's sister going on a diatribe of how capable they are of taking care of the said sick person, considering how rich they are. Basically, the thought conveyed was pretty much in the same breath as my friend's statement from the night before. It was rude, hurtful, and again, uncalled for. She, my colleague, is one of the smartest, most talented, kindest and most real people I've ever met. From her humble beginnings and bad decisions she managed to rise up into one of the most accomplished individuals in my life. For her to be subject to that kind of bullshit was nothing short of a disgrace.

I did my best to cheer her up, and I think I did a fine job of it. I went back to the office afterwards content in the fact that I have made a connection with a kindred spirit.

As the sun rose, I decided to have breakfast in the area where I used to get drunk every morning with the people from Purgatory. It was good, being able to sit there and just bask in the memories. Recalling the days where I was surrounded by equally broken but essentially good, real people gave me a level of awareness higher than I had had all year. It was one of the most fulfilling nights of my recent history, and definitely one of the two best nights of my year (the other being my Super Weekend). I got shit done at work, helped a friend out, and had a satisfying, hard earned meal at the end of the day, just like simpler times.

Rediscovery. The following night, I was back at the Big Man's project wondering what to do next. As I alluded to in my previous post, I have a new quest to pursue before the year ends, but considering the daunting tasks it would take to actually complete the tasks, I wasn't really sure I was up to it.

What injected some newfound motivation in me was, of all things, a Youtube video made by a student filmmaker who went to Votre and did a documentary on us comics. Watching the video, not only did I feel the feeling I got overtime I hit the stage (or reasonable facsimile thereof) at Votre, I remember how doing stand up during that time was the only completely good thing going in my life.

It gave me the "eye of the tiger", so to speak, and I just focused on that for the rest of the night. The singular thought that was in my mind right then was "I've got a contest to get into".

Pilgrimage. The highlight of the first of the past two weeks was, surprisingly enough, initiated by none other than Jo F'n Regis. On another night when the Big Man, the Make Up Artist and I were heading for another night at the Big Man's project when I received Jo's text. everyone who has worked with me knows that while I am a hard worker, the right invite would make the decision of dropping everything and just making up for the missed work way too easy to make. The Big Man gave me permission (But to be honest, I didn't really ask for one, cause either way, I was going, but of curse, this is my friend I'm working with. Anyone else, I'd be telling him or her to stick it.) in exchange for a service that I could render and I was off for some serious bro time with Jo.

The invite that was so irresistible? A return to the Grill. Jo and I talked, laughed, and most importantly, drank. We even had some cheap ass Chinese food afterwards just to drive the point home. There are very few places that really feels like home, and that bar will always be one of those few places. Besides, it's been weeks since I had a legitimately good night out, and there's something about that place that makes me feel like the world is in my hands once more.

The night even ended with a surprise appearance by the Tapa King, which didn't actually improve anything, but didn't take anything away from the night either..

In fact, I left the Grill knowing that I went through everything that I exactly needed to be in the proper mindset in taking the next step to accomplishing my latest intended goal. Most likely, if those sequence of events did not take place the way they did, I'd probably just be completely lost by now.

Grand Motivations Among Materialistic Intentions. I learned that the Human Torch joined one of those atrocious network marketing deals in a big way. When I asked the Big Man (who, given his entrepreneurial nature, also joined) as to why would the Torch, with his remarkably stable professional state, jumped on this venture so aggressively, the Big Man told that, above all things, it was because a girl. (A girl who had cheated on him at least twice, to the best of my knowledge, no less.) I pretty much scoffed at this decision, and refused to join in. (I was apparently tapped to be one of the people to join in and help everyone make money.) Prudence would dictate that one should not join in on any endeavor led by a person driven mostly by emotion, as it would lead to clouded decisions and a distinct inability to lead. With my plate being full as it is, I could not afford any more risky business.

However, as it often happens, fate stepped in. On Saturday, I was supposed to finish this video I needed that would hopefully secure me a slot in the contest, and pay a visit to the Think Tank to finish the required output for my day job. But, a storm hit, and hit like a motherfucker. I knew the boys would be at a network-related seminar, so I decided to make an appearance instead of spending a Saturday night at home. What I saw was one of the most mind numbing displays ideals-twisting manipulation. There were a bunch of professionals there programed to achieve on thing, appeal to most people's baser natures by cranking up the cognitive dissonance and the fear of isolation and promising a completely fulfilled life through the ability to gather worldly possessions. Their arguments were clearly underscored by the promise of excess.

I wasn't buying anything that they've been offering. More money? I was born into a relatively well off family and walked away from that. More time? I have always been a man who's had my entire life in my control and my control alone, regardless of circumstance and consequence. This is not my problem. The ability to help the people around me financially? I'm surrounded by people who have the ability to earn a living. I live only for myself, and I'd like to think that I have everything I could ever need. And whenever new needs arise, I know I have the means to obtain it. However, sitting in on that seminar, I realized that the Human Torch's reasons, irrational as they are, are the only reasons in that room that I can really respect. Plus, it wasn't that long ago when I would be equally or even more daring in the name of love. So I was in, provided certain things cleared up.

We ended the night by paying a visit to one of their favorite strip clubs, and had a surprisingly decent amount of fun. (Disregarding a threat of a fight that occurred towards the tail end of the night and all that.)

The Race to the Deadline. The start, as well as the majority, of the following week, was devoted to one thing and one thing only: to ensure my spot in that contest. I have conceptualized, I have gathered, and I have made do with what little resources I had. What came out was, unlike many of my other creations, something I didn't really feel was the best product I could come out with. Still, the deadline was on the first of September, so I had to roll the dice.

I sent the video to the guy running the show, and came the most annoying part of anything: waiting.To make matters worse, the BIg Man's project had to take a week off, and the Think Tank was still running low on things for me to work on. And so I waited.

Friday night, accompanying the Big Man on his chores, (Plus, I was broke, so I didn't have much by way of options.) I received the single greatest e-mail I have ever received in my life. Ladies and gentlemen, I am officially performing and competing in the 5th Annual Hong Kong International Comedy Festival.

Now, I just need to raise the money to get my ass there. Minor details. What's important is that on my first year as a stand up comic, months before I turn 30, I get to perform on that level. Win, lose, or draw, I win. HK won't know what hit it.

Celebration. I wasn't the only with good news that night, as the Big Man apparently nailed another money making venture. While money's tight, there was no way we weren't going to do anything about it. Enter the Human Torch and the rest of his goons, all looking for a good time and willing to spend for it.

You know how this story goes, right? Drinks? Check. Ladies? Check. Laughter? (Check) Obscenely unhealthy meal afterwards followed by oversleeping and complete negligence of other responsibilities? Oh hell, check.

Facing Forward. What can I say? I've never been this pumped for anything. All my fears have been alleviated with the simple prospect of me being able to pursue something I love, despite the odds. For many years now, I've heard it from every other person that's passed through my life. You're too old to be idealistic. You can't always get what you want. You have to compromise.

I respectfully disagree. My creed has always been: "Change what I cannot accept, discard and replace that which I cannot change". I'll bend over backwards for the simple reason of helping my friends. I will go through trials to be with the person I love. And I will always be chasing after my legitimate passions without reservation. It's who I am. And the people around me, whether we all share the same point of view or not, accept that, the way I accept them. People don't have to like it, and I'm thankful for the ones that do.

"I've been roaming around, I was looking down at all I see

painted faces, fill places I can't reach

You know that I could use somebody...
you know that I could use somebody...

Someone like you and all you know and how you speak
countless lovers undercover of the streets

You know that I could use somebody...
you know that I could use somebody..." - Kings of Leon, "Use Somebody"

A Slow Recovery

Now that I've sorta recovered from my fever, I'm actually feeling a little perky. On a Monday, no less. So let me start with an inspirational tale. Prior to sitting down here at some gas station where I used to drink every morning back in late-2004, I went to the bathroom. I needed to splash some water on my face to wake me up, when there was a guy on crutches brushing his teeth on the only working sink. I waited patiently, or as patiently as someone like me could, but the guy was just absolutely anal about the process. He brushed his teeth twice, and gargled three times, twice with mouthwash, and once with water. In the middle of all of this, I couldn't help but be, shall we say, expressive about my dismay, shooting him tired looks, checking my non-existent wrist watch, you know the whole asshole play.

The guy noticed, and while it did seem that he needed another three or four brushings, he smiled politely and let me use the use for the entire seven seconds that I needed it. Now, before anyone goes off how impolite that was on my part towards the handicapped, let me point out a couple of things. One, the motherfucker's arms were twice as big as mine, so it was safe to assume that he was well within capability when it comes to kicking my ass. (Without the actual kicking, of course.) Secondly, if I was disabled, there's nothing I'd want more than to be treated just like everyone else. I'd rather get treated "rudely" than to be tolerated due to whatever handicap I may have had. I kinda think made his day.

On that note, with energy drink and half a pack of cigs in hand, on to blogging I go.

The Disappointing Start. I've always taken pride in being able to start the week right on certain occasions. Good or even great weekends are rather easy, but legendary Mondays? I'm only able to pull that shit off on a less than semi-regular basis. Last Monday was yet another failed attempt.

After a day at the Think Tank, cut short by the onset of my fever, I went once again with the Big Man to start the work week at his project. But the rain fell, hard, and the traffic blew as hard the wind, so there was no other alternative but to cancel work and do one of the many things we do best, which is to have tremendous amounts of fun at the expense of the Bg Man's bank account and my physical and mental health.

So, we hit another strip club. We decided to go to the dingiest, most dubious looking hole in the wall that we can find, and boy did we find one. It was so bad, that… well, it so bad that we ended up going to the lesser shitty one instead. (We were up for something crazy, but not one that was downright insane and suicidal. Seriously, that place looked like the thieves' nest from Agrabah.)

We sat down and had drinks for the entire duration of 30 minutes. That's right, true deceivers, 30 fucking minutes.

Then it was off to the Big Man's place for more drinks and hopefully a more pleasant night's end. However, it was not to be, as the Big Man's mother requested a pick up, and my fever then hit its stride, rendering me unconscious.

While the Monday night mayhem didn't take place the way it usually did from days of old, the point is, every opportunity that I get, you better believe I'm always going to keep on trying. It's just a little sad, really, cause I woke up that morning feeling like P. Diddy. (Yeah, I did that whole section so I could use that damn joke. Fuck you.)

The Quiet Middle. The middle of the week was quite slow, though there were moments of serendipity that I could not ignore. After I have gone through with the first phase of my latest obsession, I had another chance meeting with the girl, this time it was lengthy enough for pizza, pasta and ice cream. It was nice, and since I was already pumped for taking that first step to my latest project (which left me broke) I happily dragged my feverish ass home to Cavite.

As I reported a few weeks back, i was asked by the mother to come back home to liv a her old house with my brother as she moved into her new home (conveniently located within the same village). I had more than a little amount of hesitation about that, as I have also expressed. But, spending the day with the family, (the whole lot of them actually, as there was some reunion thingy) I was actually convinced that yes, this might be a good move for me.

Then someone dropped the ball by casually mentioning the family's awareness of my previous and semi-recurring suicidal tendencies. Now, this is a issue that they may have read off my old blog, however, I have serious doubts about that. My guess is that someone read the old blog, thought it would be cool to discuss it with the family, and now I'm being asked to come back so people would "watch over" yours truly. All of this, of course, was clearly presented to me in a manner that I would accept. And now, I'm even more hesitant for a homecoming.

First off, if there was someone out there who it upon him, her, or themselves to talk to anyone in my family about my problems, let me clarify one thing. It does not make you a good person. it does not make you, at least in my eyes, a concerned party. It just makes you someone who's way too ignorant to realize what it is that I actually need. You did not help, you just caused a wider gap, vast as it already is, between me and my relatives. It was a self-indulgent, arrogant move. You do not know what's best for me, and most likely you do not know what's best for you, and compensating at the expense of how I live my life is not cool. I don't know who you are, and apparently, you have no clue about who I am, because anyone who's paid attention knows that I have my ways and I'm pretty set on them, regardless of how much it's ill-advised or unconventional. I know what works for me, and I hope that you choke on an elephant's cock. I'm pretty sure you're my friend, and yes, I do love you, but my friend, that was the wrong move.

Now, if this was something that they, the relatives, discovered upon themselves, I do hope they know that I can handle this on my own. If I need help, I will ask. I've done so from time to time, and I will do so again. No need to worry, and no need to bring me back into the fold and coddle me. I've lived on my own for far too long a time for anyone to worry.

With that out of the way, the dull but slightly entertaining rendezvous with the blood relatives did present an interesting option: I got offered a job to help make movies. in Africa. Yes, in freaking Africa.

Surprisingly enough, I'm actually considering it, especially if it would allow me to avoid any more unwelcome grilling and questions regarding my personal life.

The Incredible End. The week ended with me at home curdled up in a ball due to my fever reaching levels that I did not expect it would. But, at least I had an interesting Friday night to make up for the work another activities I missed during the weekend. The fever was inevitable anyways, it's been going on for two weeks now. Whether I went out and had fun was irrelevant.

So, Friday night was a night wherein the BIg Man and I ended another work week (though due to my prevailing illness I didn't really do as much work) to another trip to the bar that served awesome beer towers. The result? A lengthy discussion about the BIg Man's position and responsibilities as leader, me throwing up the most mount of vomit I've ever thrown up in my entire life (You had to be there, I was like a fountain of gushing. It was incredible.) and me waking up with the grandmother of all hangovers and a fever that came back with a vengeance.

So yeah, the week had a slow beginning, a slow middle, and eded rather slowly, but there are a lot of possibilities there and a few laughs thrown in. It's wasn't as bad as expected I guess.

I'm looking forward to seeing where those newly cleared paths lead me.

"I saw my friend the other day and I don't know

Exactly just what he became
It goes to show
It wasn't long ago
I was just like you
And now I think I'm sick and I wanna go home

How have I been,how have you been
It's been so long
What have you done with all your time
And what went wrong

I knew you back when
And you ... you knew me
And now I think I'm sick and I wanna go home" - Green Day, "Emenius Sleepus"

Fever rantings

I have a bad cold and a raging fever while I'm writing this, so I thought it would be most prudent to keep this short.

Time Off. As I alluded to earlier, I took a week off of the Big Man's project. I still showed up for work at the Think Tank, but going to the project's a little too much of a hassle considering I'm not exactly up to my optimum capacity. During my time away, I was able to assess not just the Big Man's project, but all of the "teams" I've been a part of. Not for any particle reason.

The week off did me good though. It led to me discovering my next big mission.

Seeing Signs. Something seemingly trivial happened one day last week, but considering the several variables involved for that trivial event to take place, I just decided to see it as a sign to extradite my plans with the latest, and most likely greatest, romantic pursuit.

Yeah, this is not going to be painless. Will be worth it, I guess.

Back on the Mic. Did stand up again, in Ortigas no less, and did a relatively good job. After a string of bad nights at the old bar, I finally find my target audience: drunken college kids who just love hearing me talk about my penis. Got drunk and spent the following day sleeping for 20 hours, but it was worth it. Bout damn time I managed to get good ol' fashioned laughs again.

I will definitely be back the next time they hold comedy night, and I wont be forgetting my little notebook of jokes this time.

The Sky, and the long and winding road. Friday night, went to a new strip joint, which was mildly amusing. Saturday morning, went to the baptism celebration of Charisse's kid. Charisse is a girl the Big man and I hung around a lot back in high school, and well into the college years. Despite her positive aspects (I'm sure there are many.) she still retains her penchant for completely toning a day down to its most absurdly boring level. Hey, everyone needs a skill.

I did what I normally do when faced in such a mind numbing situation. Got really drunk 'til I passed out. It's my version of playing possum, only with alcohol and a lack of manners. What can I say? I can be downright respectful if given proper motivation. There wasn't any on that day. Happy for her, of course.

Quest Updated. Will join a contest. A stand up comedy contest. It will take up all my attention and finances for the next two months. This will also not be painless. This will definitely be worth it.

Cause that's what I do. I bring the funny, though it don't get me money.

Fast Food for the Soul

Hanging out with old friends is a lot like eating at Jollibee. The products are nowhere nearly as good as advertised, and the service is not just slow, but at times absolutely blows. There was a time that eating at that place was a throughly big deal for everyone, but as is the case with most people, the novelty just fades with every passing year. One good thing about it, though, is the consistency. You always get what you expect to get (shitty service included). Sometimes even, given the right circumstances, the specific needs, you get pleasantly surprised.

Last week, I was given a chance to enjoy the company of old friends, and see a new perspective on some of them, even rediscovering some of the ouch parts of a situation I haven't been in in a long time. Considering my condition all year, any sort of feeling is good, and with that in mind, I can say it has been a good week.

Quiet Start to the Week. Before I started on any sort of work of any kind for the week, I had coffee with Jo F'n Regis right in front of his school. I've been shopping around for schools I might enroll in come June of next year, provided I survive my 30th birthday, and Bizarro World, the name I'm calling Jo's school, is probably on the top of that list. We didn't talk about anything new, we rarely do, nor did we get down on anything deep. We didn't even spend that much time together. But a short hour of coffee and small talk is one good way to kick off any week.

I've never really expressed any thoughts I've had on the prospect of Jo finally graduating, because I never really acclimated myself to the idea of it actually happening. That's not a knock on Jo, at all. It's just that, I met him in college, and he has always been a student overtime we hung out. There was a time when he was out working for a year or so, but we never really hung out during that time. I'm a bit dismayed about the fact that he and I wont be sharing a campus again, but still. He's finally growing up, and I hope nothing but the best for him.

I don't know if people in my life has noticed, but there are a vast majority of friends of mine that I can only hang out with for extended periods of time as long as I'm carrying anything alcoholic. Only a select few have been able to keep me interested for long periods of time sober.Some I can't even share lunch with without a shot or two. Jo has always been one of my coffee buddies. The Therapist also falls under that category. And you know what, I'm kinda hard-pressed trying to think of others who I can say the same thing about.

Love and Shit Like That. The section above is a little misleading, as i didn't really start the week off hanging out with Mr. Regis. I also had a short meeting with the giro I keep bitching about in these posts. I'm guessing that's why I've been in a rather cheery mood all week. But, of course, it hasn't been painless. She and I have met a couple of times or so last week, and It has been difficult. I'm in a "so close, but oh so far" scenario that it runs amuck with the whole manic depression thing.

Most of our encounters revolve around her complaining about how she really wants to have a boyfriend, and how the guy she likes isn't paying ay attention to he anymore, and how she's not all that into the guy she's dating, and of course, the coup de grace, her asking me not just to attend her future wedding, but to promise to serve as her "man of honor".

Motherfucker. Thank goodness for the alcohol. I literally drank alone before heading off to the Big Man's project that night. It feels like youth in a bottle.

The Big Blah. Friday morning, I watched "Fight Club" in full for the first time in my life. I've seen different portions of it in different times before, but never really took the time to sit down and watch. People who understand the core of the film and have a little working knowledge of how I think can guess what I was feeling that day. But I had to go to Ortigas on a Friday night (which is more or less Hell on Earth) for the "Avengers'" first night out as colleagues. I was supposed to bow out, making up some excuse like I was broke to ditch the whole thing. After all, I didn't really have to go, I wasn't leading the team, and the manager wasn't really showing any indication that I was needed. However, the mighty Thor called me and pretty much bugged me into going. That would not have been enough if I didn't know what she was going through. If the person I loved was in some sort of medical trouble, I'd need all the distractions I could get as well.

All the right elements was there for a good time, but I don't know, it just wasn't clicking for me.I put a lot of stock on the first night out with any work colleagues. It usually is my basis if the relationship was strictly professional (not really a good thing for me) or if these are people that I could actually care about.

The people from Purgatory nailed it completely. The Part Timers as well, producing long time companions from a mere 3 month stint. When I was teaching, or when I was working for TV, it was always about work with my respective co-workers.

A few weeks ago I went ranting about how the MakeUp Artist brought her issues to the table the night's festivities to a screeching halt in one fluid motion. On this first journey into team bonding, the same kind of attention monopoly, in my opinion, hurt the overall intention of the outing. True, there were laughs, particularly when Van Dyne got drunk off her ass, but most of the night was devoted to talking out things that can be talked about in a more proper setting with the actual people concerned. Hell, the Thunder God had a lover nearly suffer a stroke just a couple of days prior, she wasn't bitching about it at all. I'll just say it again, when you're out with a group, don't bring make the night all about you. There's a time, place, and specific people for that.

The night wasn't all bad, I just didn't feel that all that team-y afterwards.

From a professional standpoint, the project is still in its adjustment period. To me, my role on the team is to not just put numbers on the scoreboard. Of course, that's expected at some point, but any schmuck can do that. When an old friend asks you to join him on a project, it's because he knows of a specific thing that you'll be providing, ideally. The Big Man specifically asked for my help, and that's what I intended on giving. Unfortunately, he rejected my offer to talk about the night's discoveries and the potential solutions for any problems that may arise from those discoveries, so I'm just assuming my services are not required anymore, or at least not in the same capacity and degree. With that said, I'll just finish the year with the team probably, and if it goes well, stay on. If not, I've already got three alternative courses of action. I'm labeling this project as a subplot for the rest of the year.

Scooby-fest. I actually forgot that the weekend was devoted to the Scoobies, had it not been for Marvi's last minute reminder. We were to celebrate Nikki's birthday in the same way we celebrate our respective birthdays together. Drinks, food and stories at Marvi's place. It was the perfect offset to the less-than-spectacular Avengers night.

It wasn't extraordinary, but that's always been the thing with the Scoobies, taking the ordinary and making it special. I have recounted the story of my involvement with this particular group several times before. As I may have stated, my joining the group was mostly about timing. The Gadgeteer, SosoJeff, Li, and everyone from my batch from all courses had just graduated and I took some time off from my vaunted Hidalgo Boys. They had just lost a guy friend because of a girl. At the time I was hanging out with a bunch of artist wannabes and they were far too normal for me to spend time with. We were put in a school together, and I goto to know them, and to this day, they're still the only normal people I actually like. Marvi, with her sharp tongue and surprisingly caring nature. Nikki, with her loud mouth and undeniable vanity that serve as a facade for her gentle vulnerability. Shelly, with her penchant for troubled relationships and her overall courage and lightheartedness to survive. Nats, with his simple-mind but kind heart. Weng, MA and Nino, who're rarely there but when they are their presence make an absolute difference. Of all the people in my life, they're the ones who've never made me feel bad about who I am, a fact that I have stated several times now, and I think it's because they're the only ones in my life who feel absolutely comfy with who they are. (The people who cut you down are usually the people who aren't happy with themselves, and believe that making others look and feel bad increases their value.)

Together, we have survived annoying teachers, "acts of gross disrespect", really shitty exes, money problems, weddings, births, infidelities, and a whole slew of other crap, and there we were, on a Sunday night, getting drunk and taking pictures like it was 2004 again.

I've got big plans for my week long celebration of my 30th birthday, and they're the first group I've confirmed to be included. Not that it's a big honor, mind you, but I've been picky about who to spend those days with. I'm looking at it as my last days on Earth, and only those near and dear get to play a part. These people made my final year of college, still the best time of my life so far, special.

Aftermath. After staying over at Marvi's I went walking around for some much-needed alone time. Everything a little clearer now, and I have found a temporary state of peace. I have big plans for the rest of the month, including a social experiment by month's end, and I feel comfortable enough pursuing it. When the Big Man asked for my help, I knew that it was a bad idea, since working old friends rarely is. I think it only works if you actually meet people at work and befriend them, not the other way around. But no matter what happens in that aspect of my life, whatever the consequence, at the end of the day, I am not one who turns away people when they ask for assistance. While everything is fine as of now, at the very least, it's not as fun as I expected it to be. Of course, the reflexive and rather shortsighted response to that is "jobs are not supposed to be fun". People with cancer aren't supposed to be cured, but that doesn't stop people from finding ways. I just hope no one hits me with the "you don't have a child or anyone to support" argument, cause that's just stupid. I live alone. I fuck up and don't earn money, I become homeless.

Other old friends of mine are managing to stay close by, like the aforementioned fast-food joint, despite any and all major changes, and my current romantic pursuit's effects on my life remains minimal.

What I see now, after the week that I've had, is a need that requires fulfillment. I think I have a solution for that. I just need to hammer out the details.

The rest of the year looks exciting, if I plan it right.

"I regarded the world as such a sad sight

Until I viewed it in black and white
Then I reviewed every frame and basic shape
And sealed the exits with caution tape
Don't refocus your eyes in the darkness
And don't remember this place unless
I describe all the things that you cannot see
And we'll unravel the mystery" - Owl City, "Dear Vienna"

Just a Little Louder Now

I've been extremely pre-occupied for the past couple of weeks, what with work, other business, and of course, my much documented heart problems. Which blows, yes, but I'm still kicking. The past two weeks have been somehow packed with events, but only some of those events may actually lead into other things in my future.

It has been a weird set of circumstances that kinda sets me a little more adrift than I was from a few weeks ago. I'm a lot more detached, I think, and the way things are going, detached is perhaps the best way to go.

Generations of Mischief. On a rainy Thursday night, I went drinking one on one with a fellow Think Tank-er. I never thought I'd be going one on one with a 21 year old that's fresh off of college, especially one who initially scoffed at my abilities of imbibing alcohol. But, once the night was done, the young man was hobbling on home drunk as one could be, while I still had the constitution to see SosoJeff (he insisted on bringing the nickname back) for a favor.

I felt a shallow sense of pride that night, going the distance in my advanced age with someone who's supposedly in his prime (alcohol-wise). Apparently, went it came to drinking, I'm still the Nature Boy. (Only wrestling geeks would get that reference.) Also, it was nice to go out socially with someone from work. It makes one more motivated to show up to the office, despite the ever escalating blood pressure.

Ill-Repute. One Friday night, after a day of talking about stalkers and stupid-ass reasons why couples fight and whatnot with the rest of the denizens of the Think Tank, I was more than content with ending the work week watching the breathtaking Ellie Kemper on the big screen in Bridesmaids. The Big Man, unexpectedly, invited me to go out. I thought it was with the Human Torch, but other things got in the way, so it was me and the Big Man once again (it's going to be me and the BIg Man for most of the rest of this post as well as posts from the foreseeable future). After some expected indecision, we ended up in Paranaque, going to another one of those places where people my age seem to flock to these days. (Most people I hang out with these days seem to have a huge problem going to regular bars and getting a massive drink on, it seems.)

It was pleasant, and if all things follow the pattern I'm noticing, it's going to be indicative of the central theme the rest of the year will be having.

The Two Towers (Of Beer). As Sunday arrived, after a relatively long day at the Think Tank, the Big Man and I hung out once again for drinks, and this time it was in Cavite at this new bar that boasted beer towers. It was the eve of the launch of the Big Man's new project, one that I agreed to be a part of for various reasons, and it was the bulk of the conversation. I offered my own personal two cents, particularly with his inclusion of the Makeup Artist as part of the roster. We even talked about our childhood adventures with our respective cliques. (I found out that the Godfather of Porn was such a drama queen.) After downing a tower each, he was insanely drunk. (At some point in the night I got drunk as well, but what I noticed is that these days, I sober up rather quickly.)

He drove me home, and we had a discussion about my current love life. Apparently there are more people reading my blog than I expected, so my admissions of being in love and having a new muse did not go unnoticed. (SosoJeff actually brought it up in the brief meeting we had.)

So it was almost sunrise, and I just got taken home by a guy who should not be behind the wheel, and there I was, listening to this old friend of mine telling me why should go for this latest girl. I haven't discussed that in detail here in my blog, but there are going to be severe consequences if I should pursue this person, so I made the decision not to do so. I rarely seek advice, and people who know me know me well enough to not give it unsolicitedly. But in the BIg Man's drunken state, I don't think he could've stopped himself from speaking if he tried. Surprisingly enough, what he said actually helped.

He reminded me of how I'm the guy that doesn't really think about the odds, and whether intentional or not, argued that my reservations about the pursuit was a little illogical and presented a logical alternative. He also appealed to me emotionally, that after all the shit I've been through, it was time I actually went out and stopped thinking about other people and focus on something that would be good for me. Not very may people can make me see those things, sober or not, and fuck knows a lot of people have tried.

The way it went, drinking all the contents of an entire beer tower actually was the most productive and enriching thing I've done all week. I will tell her. Soon. And you will be reading about it, and hopefully preparing loads of alcohol to cheer me upon the inevitable outcome.

Avenger-iffic. Once the Big Man's little project got underway, I went into work mode, mostly cause I really can't help it. He joked about calling our workplace the Avengers HQ or some shit like that, and as I was observing the roster and the proceedings through analytical yet geeky eyes, I couldn't help but notice that analogy was quite accurate once you get past the initial "delusions of grandeur" perspective.

In this scenario, the Big Man plays Tony Stark, wherein he funds and manages the entire operation. In this sense, he also possesses the same intrinsic character flaws, like an inability to handle people properly, his vulnerability to the wiles of the opposite sex and his tendency to, despite being more than able intellectually, find himself in situations that can be a little over his head due to lack of impulse control. In contrast, I play the role of Steve Rogers, without the physical fitness, of course. I've often viewed myself as a person who's misplaced out of his time, with outmoded ideals and values. Aside from being the least "powerful" member of the group, I also suffer from a level of stubbornness that can only be born of an inability to compromise when it comes to my own personal measure of right and wrong. Another longtime friend of the Big Man plays the role of the God of Thunder. She's the heavy hitter of the group, while still maintaining a level of lightheartedness and fearlessness even in the face of epic odds. Then there's a couple who I can't help but compare to Henry Pym and Janet Van Dyne, two obviously gifted individuals who together make a formidable pair, but are somehow stuck in their own little world and history. (For now at least.) And of course, there's the Makeup Artist, who definitely is the Incredible Hulk in terms of being an emotionally crippled creature that carries some potential for good and on the other hand, the sheer possibility of catastrophe.

Man, I read too much comics.

Who's Playing Who? Friday night, despite my frazzled nerves, I needed a drink. The Big Man obliged, and we ended up in that same bar where we had beer towers just days prior . The Big Man was unusually emotional that night, thanking me for my contributions to his little project, addressing his fears of failure and others. To be completely honest, at first I thought I was being "handled", but I decided to place my faith on the sincerity of our talk and accepted his words at face value. It was a nice night of quiet drinks, which, of course got shot into hell.

For some reason, we had to go to this bar where the Makeup artist works. He said he was trying to "protect his people" though I doubt if he'd have done the same of it was me or anyone else on the team was in that situation (a situation which I admit I didn't fully grasp). But it was alright, I tried to make the best of it by enjoying what was there to enjoy. As we were about to leave, the Makeup Artist and this girl who thought she was my girlfriend just cause we apparently fooled around a weeks back suddenly rode the car and I was subjected to inappropriate questions about my personal life by someone whose company I'd rather not have. Seriously, do people not give a fuck if I have a good time or not? Nevermind.

Selfish ramblings aside, I couldn't help but notice for the past few weeks how she's got the Big Man wrapped around her finger. Like I told him, I find it kinda odd that someone who's so adamant on retaining control allow for this kind of manipulation. It's like she can snap her fingers and the guy jumps at attention, all the while trying to maintain the appearance of having autonomy. I'm pretty sure all sides think of this situation as mutualism, but for someone who's, to borrow one of the Critic's favorite cliches, on the outside looking in, there's way too many games that are being played here and I think not everyone is quite sure that they are participating. All personal shit aside, I know that at some point all of this becomes clear to everyone, and all I want at this point is transparency. I don't think I'm going to get it, but what the hell, I signed up because I'm fulfilling what's expected of me as a friend, and bitching about this is part of my job as a friend.

I seriously hope I'm wrong.

Funerals and Shit. Taking a break form all kinds of work due to my blood pressure, I went off to attend the funeral of some high school classmate's dad. I don't mean to sound cold, I'm sure it was a terrible loss for him,but he and I were never friends, and he always sorta came off a little on the douchey side at times. Not douchey in a sense that you want to punch him, but douchey enough to try and avoid having unnecessary conversations with him as much as possible.

Anyway, the reason I went was that I have, as mentioned, resolved to revisit some aspect of my past at least once a week, and this was the only avenue open to me on a Saturday night. I bugged anyone who would listen to get together for drinks afterwards, despite my condition. So the guys and I ended up in another dude's house, and I have to admit, it was brilliant. See, there were five of us, each one representing a different kind of person. Five people who normally would not hang out on a daily basis got together for the simple reason of familiarity. One was the guy that manages the restaurant I visited a few weeks ago. Another reminds me of The Rock from Walking Tall. Another compared himself to David Duchovny from Californication, which was a really accurate comparison. The other one a career phone monkey who was always on the outskirts of greatness. And then there was I, the artsy fartsy writer/comedian who should be in therapy.

What made the night interesting was that I was the only one of that bunch who was never married and does not have any children, and each of their views on the whole thing was interesting to listen to. The main theme was that there is no ideal marriage. Despite my inexperience with the subject, of course, I beg to differ.

I always remember that sight, BFF and her man in the pool, in each other's loving embrace. Their union was never perfect, but it sure was fucking ideal for both of them.That sight was pretty much my anchor to reality that night in Laguna back in 2009, as I was pretty fucking stoned and had been sitting in one spot of the pool for three hours. Never have I seen a more perfect moment between two people in love. I, myself, will not settle for anything less than that. (Which explains the 13 exes, I think.)

Anyhoo, it was a really pleasant night (drinking with the boys from the old hometown) that, while I'd rather not do it every night, I'd be looking forward to on a semi-regular basis. They're crude, somewhat antiquated and too typical, but fun is fun, and a little reminder of my own roots is usually good.

Lazy (and sick) Sunday. My weekended on a quieter, but equally fulfilling note. Plagued with my chest pains, I visited the Therapist, who herself is dealing with health and financial issues. (Her problems and mine usually are eerily similar.) Jo F'n Regis was there f course, and it was a pleasant night of coffee, french toast and cigarettes. It's weird you know, cause I'm a depressed, depersonalized dude who suffers anxiety attacks on a regular basis, she's got a similar condition, and the other guy seems to suffer from hyper-activity with a dash of detachment from reality, and yet my nights with them are usually the least complicated nights of my week.

Pills, dreams and anxiety, that's us, and we're awesome.

What now? Now, I ride whatever this wave is to wherever it takes me. I wish the "Avengers" well and provide everything I can prove for the success of the project, I plan on hanging out with The Therapist and Jo F'n Regis a lot more regularly, I'll continue enjoying working at the Think Tank until I finally get fired, and I'll wait for the thing with the Makeup Artist to either self-destruct or prove me wrong. Oh, then that thing with the girl.

We'll see what happens.

"Let me tell you about the loose talk, ticking time bomb

Needs a reaction to get my opinion
'Bout living in this town with its distractions
Got you spinning around and around and around and around" - The Purrs, "Loose Talk"