Running Mojo-less

Before I get started with the drama, I'd like to get something off my chest. I've heard, in the span of one work week, at least three people who have pointed out that I should proofread my blog. Now, while I appreciate the honesty and whatnot, considering that I'v e said this before, it's starting to get annoying. So, for the last time, I do not proofread my posts, and furthermore, I will not proofread my posts. I type it, I post it. Done. I don't write a blog to showcase my life to people. I do it cause this is an avenue for me to express myself without inhibition. (And, what with the slippery memory I have after all the drinking and other equally mind numbing activities, documentation.) If it's getting too hard to read, no one's twisting your arm to read the damn thing. I rarely advertise the blog, and whenever I do, usually it's to update specific people that I haven't seen in a while so I wouldn't have to talk about my life at length. Telling me to proofread my posts is like telling me how to dress in public. If you don't like anything I do or say, you can simply divert your attention elsewhere and we can all live in peace without getting into each other's business. (I'm not starting any fights, here. I just thought an explanation would be far more mature than responding to these people with "blow me".)

With that out of the way, I'mma get my rant on.

The Early Onset. There aren't many people who have been unlucky enough to experience this in my presence (and to those that think they are, you're wrong), but every December my "episodes" get worse in terms of intensity and frequency. It's not something I'm proud of in any way, but it's a part of me and it's not going away. On certain years, they tend to start earlier, and such is the case for this year.

As the latter part of November rolled around, I increasingly have been handicapped by anxiety attacks and depression and all of the wonderful things that come along with the package. In the past couple of years, I've managed to get by with the simple act of getting drunk every day, a luxury that I don't have this year thanks to my job and recent exodus from my spheres. This year's annual blues tend to be a tad more challenging, considering the amount of time I spend at the Think Tank and the number of people I interact with. All the changes that have been circling around hasn't helped at all.

One instance was when I had to buy food from the nearby mall. (On a somewhat related note, it's called fast-food, not take-your-sweet-fucking-time-food. Dicks.) So I got there, and I sat for two hours, staring into space, feeling my left arm tingle and my heart race for no good reason. I felt detached to the point that I nearly panicked, and I found myself clutching this lucky charm I usually carry around with me. I started clawing at that spot in my arm in hopes of snapping out of it. Once it normalized, I went and bought the medicine one of my teammates required and the doughnuts another colleague asked for and went back to the office like nothing happened.

I've been running on low energy and spirits for weeks now, and so far I think I've done a good job of hiding it from my colleagues. Now that December has started, I'm just hoping I am going to be okay enough once my birthday rolls around. I don't think this year's crazy days phase would be worse than last year's, since I've managed to separate myself from many triggers of last year's hubbub, but then again, I think I've uttered those same words before.

I'm just glad the office is open on the holidays.

Breakfast of Champions. In an act of complete self-indulgence, I joined the rest of the Breakfast Club to Manila to eat the biggest burger I have had the pleasure of (mostly) enjoying. I've had a lot of people point out that the majority of my friends are on the umm… "heavier" side. It's true. I never really felt all that much comfortable with people who exhibit self restraint on things and activities that they liked so much. (Having two exes who have uttered the words "I'd rather be miserable as long as I'm thin" strongly reinforced that preference.) It's no surprise that I'm enjoying being a part of a team composed of heavyweights.

Back to the burger breakfast… we had what they referred to as the Tombstone Burger. It was a two pound burger composed of four half pound patties, each with a slice of cheese, slathered in cheese sauce. It also came with a shit load of fries and iced tea.

None of us managed to finish our meal, and we went back to the office and worked with an extra two pounds in our system.

This Year's Rock Pile. On the third weekend of November, I was to go to the beach and read poetry with the rest of the OWLers. I was hesitant at first, but considering I really needed a trip tot he beach, and here's one that's offered that I didn't have to pay for, I thought I said yes. I even agreed to do it for free. As I left the office on a Saturday morning to go to the shuttle that was taking me and the others to Coco Beach, I figured this would be a nice weekend shared with fellow artists and I was more than willing to be as hipster-iffic as they are. Just this once.

None of the other poets showed up. Motherfucker. The whole spoken word part of the program got nixed.

However, the time alone did me a lot of good. I had the opportunity to do the rock pile thing I annually do at the beach. Since I never got the chance to hit the beach last year, I figured my rock pile was going to be bigger, so I went with smaller stones. I mentioned this activity I do before, but for the sake of those who just tuned in, I'm going to go over the basics. Every stone represents a shitty thing that happened. I bury the stone. I leave it behind. A year passes, I go back to the beach (not necessarily the same beach.) with a new set of rocks to bury. It's a personal tradition. The quiet time did me a lot of god, as with each rock I pick I had the opportunity to really reflect on whether or not that particular thing the rock represents is indeed something I should leave buried. For example, the girl that I fell in love with the day after my ex and I broke up. I eventually decided against pursuing her, initially because some people of questionable judgment told me to go for it, but eventually because I realized that in the long run, if I did truly love this girl, I would serve her in the best capacity I could: as her friend. She was not part of this year's rock pile.

The sun set, and I had drinks with the person who invited me to this shindig. She is an old friend and an ex, and this was the only time we got to hang out alone after we broke up back in college. She's doing well. Remarkably well, in fact, and I am proud of what she's striving for. She's someone who gets it, and I'm glad to discover there's someone I can call for when the weight of the unnecessarily complicated world we live in takes its toll.

Another Birthday Party. I went home from the beach the following day, and by home, I don't mean a comfortable place where one can truly ponder the direction with which life is going under a familiar and relaxing setting. I mean I went straight back to the Think Tank, where the majority of the Breakfast Club was there to get some work done before celebrating a team mate's birthday.

It was everything one can expect. An old guy like me sees things here, and an old guy like me knows to not say things about it until the time is right. I have shut my mouth on a lot of goings on in the office, and I have made it a point to play the part of the fool for the vast majority of the people of the Think Tank. There isn't a single person there that knows where I've been and what I've been through, and most especially, what I'm capable of. It's refreshing and interesting for me, what with everyone not really keeping their guards up when I'm around. They see one facet of who I am, and for now, that's enough. (I'll probably get into detail in my next post.)

I left the party in the morning, as most of them were stirring, and my thoughts were geared towards anything but work or comedy or poetry. It's hard to be productive, or funny or poetic when you're having another attack.

Thanksgiving Weekend. The work week was kinda slow, what with the lack of students due to Thanksgiving. The weekend came and I found myself having one of my worse attacks. I left the house despite the fact that there wasn't any work to be done, and dropped by the office. There were a few souls there, mostly the new managers and Erin, so I left after my brief appearance to wait for confirmation for this foodfest thingy that I agreed to go to with the rest of the team.

Wandering around Alabang did not do any good, as I found myself on the receiving end of another attack from my physical and mental condition. I went home in the vain attempt to find some peace. It wasn't until the day after, when the Island Girl dropped by for a visit, that things got a little better. There were crazy thoughts here and there, but I guess since I was around the right person, not having to deal with the extra strain of putting up a mostly okay facade I normally do at the office, it went well.

Faith. The day after, I worked at the Think Tank and even met up with the mother's boyfriend to talk about the upcoming job. I honestly nearly walked out when I found out that it was his recommendation that I was put in line for the position, not my mother's. She apparently believed that I couldn't do it, even refused to put me on the payroll for the next project, thinking I would have to prove myself.

Let's look at the facts here. Despite the bad shit that may have happened to me over the years, I've been living alone and doing fine all by myself. In fact, I've been looking out for myself ever since college, and once I graduated, I worked towards complete independence. I have done everything that i set out to do and I did so in a manner that didn't compromise my ideals, my principles or my decision to not ask for any of her assistance. I've been a teacher, worked for crazy politicians, religious organizations, TV networks, managed to work four jobs at the same time to a specific level of quality, (all of which I landed through my own hard work and, admittedly, lack of shame) dealt with both physical and psychological issues and most recently traveled overseas cause I was good enough to perform. More importantly, I never answered to anyone, and while that may have put me in dire straits before, and would definitely put me in trouble again, I've never wasted a second doing things in any way other than my way. And now, I learn that I have to prove myself to get a job that I didn't want and ask for in the first place? Shit, the only reason I'm living in her house (which is actually costing me mow money than when I was in an apartment ten fucking minutes away from the office) is because she asked. I was fine all by myself.

But, I will be the nice guy here. I plan to treat it like any other job (or relationship, har!) I've had. Provide my best, and then leave when it's no longer ideal. Again, it's a damn good thing I have work on the holidays.

"Now, for ten years we've been on our own

And moss grows fat on a rolling stone But, that's not how it used to be When the jester sang for the king and queen In a coat he borrowed from James Dean And a voice that came from you and me" - Don McLean, American Pie

Blowing Kisses and Making Wishes

Writing this on a bus on the way to the boat that will take me to the beach. (More on that on the next post.) Aside from the cameos and the brief domestic dispute, the past couple of weeks have been mostly an exhibition of how my life revolves around the relatively tiny office I work in now. I've decided to take a break from doing comedy and other shit, since my mind has been riddled by questions of the future.

The office, all on its own, has presented a myriad of experiences that would make for a rather passable screenplay, as my comparison of the office towards school has been surprisingly accurate. I have yet to meet a single completely balanced person in that place, and that's exactly how I like my work place.

Starting November Right. When November 1 rolled around, I was at the office still working at an unusually slow pace. Halloween is my favorite holiday, and I've gone on record to mention that it's my Christmas. So despite the fact that I was in a workplace that I liked a lot, I was still bummed about the whole missing out on Halloween thing. It was a good thing I wasn't the only one, as three other regular night toilers decided to drop everything and go out drinking. So there I was, on Halloween, in a bar that I know so well, surrounded by waiters and waitresses in costume, and I was happy. So happy that I could sing. And I did… on stage, alongside with a teammate who, over the past couple of weeks, I've gotten to know and learned I like a lot.

As egotistical as it may sound, he reminds me of me when I was his age. Young, living alone, putting on the happy face while glimpses of a level of despair and even anger shine through from time to time. My first impulse when I sensed this parallelism was to speak to him, share my own experiences and shit like that, but if I'm accurate in my assumption about him, he wouldn't have any of it. Hell, I wouldn't have any part of that when I was his age. I could write a fucking book on the stupid advice I've gotten from people over the years. Words of optimism from people who've never had problems, financial and career advice from people who were born with everything handed to them, relationship advice from people who've either had exclusively shitty relationships or no relationships at all, all that bugged the living hell out of me back then (and even as recently as six months ago)because of how similar I think me and this brash young man may be, I know on good authority that the best thing to do is to just be there. That's what people like him and me really need, people just being there.

Fire! Unbeknownst to me at the time, the day after Halloween, I nearly died. Someone left a candle burning while I slept, alone in my, I guess, new Fortress. It was outside the house, and it was big enough that the neighbors had to call certain relatives to put it out. elite my keen observation skills, all of this went unnoticed. I woke up, showered, got dressed and went to work. I found out the day later.

Fuck. Dying ahead of schedule would be a real bummer.

The Breakfast Club. Aside from the young me, I've gotten to know the rest of the team, who seem to have made team breakfasts their own signature move. There's an interesting dichotomy here, and in my humble opinion, I'm fortunate to be a part of the only team in the company that actually looks like a team. Most of everyone gets along in a manner wherein there's a level of honesty there that transcends professional relationships. I'd like to think of them as friends, though I'm sure there's still quite a ways to go before the whole friends thing comes into fruition. I, for one, am willing to wait for that day.

The Audition and the Reunion. Since that little epiphany from the fire-gone-unnoticed, I went and answered a casting call for a thesis film despite the fact that I haven't slept yet that weekend; it's hella faraway; and I don't like doing student projects. (It was alright when I was a student too, but I think hanging out with college kids and not as their teacher at this point of my life is a tad wasteful.) Still, no day but today, right? So I went, got lost, finally found the place, only to discover that they were students of a teacher I thoroughly hated back in college. Hence, the logical solution was obvious: audition while drunk.

After the audition, I wanted to unwind, and since I was in the Island Girl's neck of the woods, we hung out. We finally got to talk about some of the things from the past in greater detail, and it does feel good to have certain things out in the open like that. I still wanted to talk about the other effects of what happened, effects that I never really told anyone, effects that manifested itself in following relationships. But, there will be a time and place for that, I guess.

Still, all's good from where I sit.

Erin and I. Oh, I told the office crush that she was the office crush. You know, fire and all. For details of her feedback, watch that scene from Empire Strikes Back, before Han gets frozen in carbonate.

Domestic Problems. For almost every week, I've been given a reason to regret the fact that I did what my mother wanted and moved into her old house. First there was the haircut inducing inanity, then there's that fire I mentioned. A week passes and lo and behold, I get the privilege to watch some unnecessary drama unfold at 9 in the morning, after I've had a mere two and a half hours of sleep. Seriously, this is the exact same bullshit that made me move out repeatedly for years. How bad was it? Well, it was so bad that I, the guy who never shows up for work before lunch time, got up, showered, got dressed, and headed to the office as fast as I could. By 10:30 AM, people were already asking what was wrong with me.

Most people would say that the mature thing to do is to be understanding and be the bigger person and to remember that these things normally happen. The thing is, another mature thing to do is to point out how much of a waste of time bitching to each other truly is. I swear, a couple more episodes of this, and I'm packing my bags again.

Here Comes Trouble. I think people in the office aren't used to be being in such a foul mood, as a number of people actually checked on how I was doing. It was a bit strange, what with me being used to dealing with shit alone, but it was definitely welcome. Some people even took it to a higher level by, at my behest, got smashed with me that night. I won't name names and provide details, but let's just say that it was so bad, we got an e-mail from the boss that threatened action in the event that our little adventure gets in the way of work.

It was exactly what I needed.

Pool party! Come weekend, another office-mate, part of the Life Coach's sorority had a birthday party and of course, I went, since spending 90% of the week with these people doesn't seem to be enough time together. Seriously though, it was fun. Me and younger me had a sing off wherein the loser wears booty shorts at the office, and of course, there were drinks, more moments with the Life Coach and that dude she's dating, and a bunch of other people at the office and a few who I didn't know.

It was refreshing, and it made me realize that even though my world has extremely narrowed down to just this one sphere, I don't I mind. Not yet at least. I've been moving around constantly for so long, meeting up with one group after the other from day to day, that it's good to have some sense of stability.

Plus, you know, free booze.

The Future. While of that has been going on, I've been dealing with what I was going to do regarding the mother and her boyfriend's company, and the offer (the request actually) to run it. After two weeks of deliberation, I finally sent an e-mail reply that consisted of four words: "Okay, I'll do it."

So now, what with the heart thingy feeling like it's getting worse, and the growing frustration I have on the domestic front, and my thoughts about cutting ties with people from the past (I'll get into the details about that once it seems necessary) I might have to leave the one aspect of my life that resembles anything normal to do… that. See, while the irony of the prodigal son becoming heir apparent is not lost on me, and there's nothing I hate more than carrying on someone else's work, with the way that the job was offered to me, there really wasn't any choice in the matter. (Another fact that's pissing me off.) It seems like ti was a planned thing, from getting me to come home and then this. Still, I already said yes, and I think I have two to six months to prepare anyways, so I'll cross (or burn) that bridge when necessary.

God, I feel like one of those jackass kids from my generation who I've been secretly criticizing over the years for just waiting for their parent's hand me downs. Hah.

The Rest of October

I was back from my little quest (or as I like to call it, the vacation I wanted and everyone else paid for) and returned to a somewhat normal, delightfully dull life. It didn't last long, of course, but any amount of pleasantry is something I am always willing to savor. This post chronicles the past three weeks in which, good, bad or so-so, felt like a preview of the next year, and gave a rather appropriate image of how this one ends.

There are four walls around me for the majority of my present existence, and this time, I'm not complaining. Even though at times, those walls seem to be caving in.

Cooldown Period. Like I said, I returned my delightfully dull life at the Think Tank. It's become similar to school in many ways, but not the same way the Evil Empire did. It's more like college. The company has a roster of employees that reaches up to nearly a hundred people, and everyone's got their own little clique and trapped in their respective little worlds, and I'm in a unique position wherein I get to peek in those worlds.

There's the Life Coach and her sorority, then there's the people I smoke with, the bosses, the "freshmen", and the team that I belong to. In the span of an average day, I get to spend an adequate amount of time with each, and I hear about their history, in and out of the office.

For most of the first week of my return, I've done nothing but reacclimatize myself with the folks in the office and the job itself, and much like the majority of my college life, I've been fed with some very interesting material. while their stories are not as larger than life like the people from Purgatory, I'm finding the Think Tank to be Purgatory-lite. I mean that as a compliment. I've gone from being content in the office to actually enjoying the involvement.

The Return of the Absentee Scooby. On a day that I was supposed to do stand up, work, and meet up with Jo F'n Regis for a potential project, I decided to stay home due to my rapidly beating heart. (Despite the drastic change in lifestyle, the condition seems to be getting worse.) However, if there was thing that could make me get out of bed, travel and attempt to do the probably impossible and definitely stupid thing, it's a text from a Scooby. Particularly one from Nats, one of the people I've had the privilege (ha!) of serving as best man and one of the rarest Scoobies to get a hold of (they're like Pokemons).

So I dropped the open mic night, went to work, stared at my own personal Erin Hannon for a few moments, rescheduled the meeting with Jo F'n Regis and went to Nats' rather impromptu birthday party. Walking around with Jo alone would have made for a nice night, but drinking with him and Nats, and watching Nats getting verbally undressed by his wife (who seems to never run out of excuses to get pissed off at her hubby, and never passes up an opportunity to express that emotion) was just an amazing way to spend a Thursday night and risk a heart attack. (My life sounds so empty with that last statement, don't you think?)

A Productive Forty Minutes. An amazing thing happened on my way to work on a Friday afternoon. There I was, a week out of HK and stuck with one job (more on that later) and looking for a new project to sink my teeth into. Who do I see riding in the van that I had to take to go to work? The Uber-geek, the same guy that I've been bugging for a sit-down for the many short film ideas that I've been dying to do. And given his recent parting of ways with his band (who are set to go mainstream, which didn't sit well with a true indy artist like ol' Uber) I was banking on him being creatively hungry enough to join me in my lame projects.

After I logging in at the office I went off to have a little impromptu meeting, and the Uber Geek is on board. There have been certain causes for delay of our project, but it's good to know that soon, I get to do something new yet familiar. Stay tuned, folks. The Coffeehouse opens once more.

Southern Think Tank Birthday Party. I managed to drink somewhere a little closer to home the day after, as a former Think Tanker invited me, my Life Coach, and another colleague to her birthday bash. (I was surprised I was invited, though. I was under the impression that I was only there to accompany the aforementioned colleague as she was unfamiliar with the territory.)

It was good to drink in my neck of the woods with new people, though. It's something i haven't done in a long time. It's usually the blah type of drinking at the Big Man's house (the new one), or in one of the strip clubs they'd frequent, or some gathering with the Tapa King an his other retard friends (Don't get me wrong, that shit is fun, but you know, it does get old.)

It was a nice night. Learned a couple of new things and shit like that.

An Appearance in Makati. There were several days of quiet after that birthday bash as I gravitated towards spending my days at the office, listening to people tell me their tales, glancing at my Erin Hannon in moments wherein I was in need of inspiration, chain smoking, the usual shit I do these days. Of course, for at least once a week (or at least, as often as I can), I do take a break and go do that stand up comedy thing I love to do so much.

The trip to the bar (Bowler Restaurant, to be exact) in itself was an amazing treat. I haven't been to Makati (a city a have more than a few stories in) in what seems to be ages, and I ha an opportunity to take a long, lone walk on those familiar streets. It's been a year or so since I last stood at that smoking area which, I gleaned on that day, to be the epicenter of my personal history. No other specific spot in the world has bore witness to as many significant moments in my life, and even it's location is like a diagram of my adult life. Right across was the building in which I worked the phones part time in an attempt to bring the Island Girl back from exile, and where I met the Part Timers, of course. Adjacent to it was the hotel for which I also worked the phones for, months before becoming a teacher, a time wherein my days were just hazy alcoholic montages. Behind me would be the cinemas where B and I would see a movie almost every weekend before I made my presence known at the Grill. I sat on the same table wherein Jo F'n Regis and I welcomed the new year. Downstairs were the doors that welcomed Ol' Football Head and I for our numerous "bro dates".

All those Friday nights, those Saturday mornings, those rainy weekdays, they all came rushing back. To my left was 1998. To my right was 2006. It was 2004-2005 behind me. It was 2009 in front of me. And I was standing in a time warp.

Had a few beers at the Grill to put a period on the statement that ledge made.

As I was walking, I received another pleasant surprise. There was a security guard who went over (he literally left his post and approached me) and shook my hand, saying he saw me on TV a few months back and he loved my set. I didn't know whether to be proud of what i did, or feel sorry for the dude, whose fondest memory of television is that shitty two minute set back June. Still, I was polite, and I was happy that there was at least one person, aside from the people in my life and my nosy neighbors, who saw the thing and liked it.

Too bad the audience at Bowler were not appreciative. Ahh, fuck 'em. I had a good day in Makati.

A Day for Office Romance (Sorta). I pulled an all nighter on a Friday night, and come Saturday morning, The Life Coach asked me to join her and her boy for breakfast. I was happy that her boy's and my definition of breakfast were quite similar. The drinks were flowing and I sat there in the company of people in love. I'm not a hundred percent sure, But I think I was witness to the first time she said the words "I love you" to the dude.

Ugh. People can be really goofy sometimes. (Not that there's anything wrong with that.)

So, home I went, slept until 10 PM and I was awoken by a phone call from another colleague, this time a teammate, to join him,two lady colleagues, and another dude from the team to another drinking session. Apparently, the other dude ditched a frat party just so he ca join us cause one of the girls there was someone he was planning to pursue. It was nice, and very funny, to see him try his best and score a date that night. I'm a big fan of uphill climbs, and the dude's efforts seemed sincere, so I'm on his side.

Yup. The office is full of lovesick morons. I ain't saying I'm not one of them. I'm just pointing it out.

The 2009 Remix. The whole three weeks were mostly me in the office or out with office folk, but that doesn't mean there wasn't any adventures from my boys in the old gang, particularly since I made a personal promise to somehow patch things up with the Critic. So, a bag of the fun stuff in hand I went to the Critic's new pad after work for a little male bonding. He bought beers and we both just et our respective consciousness drift as we talked about this and that.

The Big Man, for reasons I can't recall, showed up. Being under the influence as we were, we did the math. We had just imbibed tremendous amounts of beer with that little euphoric kick we loved so much, and then the Big Man, a guy with a car, shows up. How can we not go to Tagaytay?

So the Big Man drove, the Critic and continued killing a few more brain cells, and then we were stopped by some cops. I twas a holy shit moment, indeed. But, nothing happened, as we were just extra paranoid and the cops were just pointing towards a detour.

Tagaytay happened, I ate a sinful amount of food, The Critic threw up his and passed out and the Big Man drove as the sun went up.

It was… serene.

Think Tank in Tagaytay. A couple of days later, I come back to Ortigas with my Think Tank teammates. We had worked all night (more or less) and we had promised ourselves a nice breakfast so we could bond and hopefully come out of it a more cohesive unit. I think it worked. We were insulting people in chorus by the time breakfast was done.

An Ending of sorts in Ortigas. Straight from Tagaytay, I headed on to Ortigas to meet with someone who's presence, perhaps, had the biggest influence in my life.The Island Girl has come back, and she and I met for an evening in Ortigas. We did the usual casual stuff. Saw a movie at Megamall, talked at the smoking area at Shang, had a couple of beers and walked around a bit. It was… casual. Friendly even. I was something I didn't expect to happen in my lifetime, considering all the drama she and I had gone through, but she's cool now, and I'm cool now (relatively) so I guess that was closure.

It was amazing though, seeing her again after a year or so without any drama hanging overhead. Maybe now I can work on regaining some of the things I lost during that year.

Halloween Party! This year, I not just attended a company party, I fucking hosted one. and not just so I could get the attention of that girl I like in the office. (Though that was mostly it. I fucking hate company activities. I only attended one prior to this, and I only did so cause it was a Christmas thingy and I had to give some douche his gift.) I attended because finally, I'm in a company that celebrates my favorite holiday.

And they take that shit seriously, too. The costumes were amazing and the candy… god damn. Fuck Christmas!

But yeah, I did it to get a girl's attention. I'm apparently not too old for this shit.

A Recap of the Bad Shit. One interesting thing about hosting the Halloween party are the events that led up to it. The entire day, my heart was doing that thing it does that normally would lead me to lie down all day. But, the show had to go on. Minutes before the thing started, I received two emails. One, a work related one wherein I apparently failed another one of those evaluation things would then drastically change how I do work in the office. (No more weekend crunches, basically.) The other, technically also work related, but was cryptic and all that regarding my family and destiny and all that Obi Wan Kenobi bullshit. None of it helped my condition. The heart is definitely getting worse.

But, the thing the family got cleared up on the weekend, where everything made sense. The move back to Cavite, the mother joining me in Hong Kong, her boyfriend acting all chummy and all that. Apparently, I'm being groomed to take the big chair on the family business, so the old lady can retire. I received a speech about being my own boss and blah, ballad, blah. They want me run the business. Fuck, I even have trouble making rent. But I said yeah, as certain possibilities suddenly presented themselves.

On another business related note, one thing that's been bugging me since I got back from Hong Kong was the status of the Big Man's little project. Before I left, we had an agreement on my role in the company and how the guy who owns the place already greenly it and it was already a go. The moment the plane touched down and I was back home, I was ready to get cracking, only to find out days later that, and this all comes from the BIg Man's text messages, that his operation has folded was being merged with another group. He asked if I was still board, and I said yes, but to the new position that was agreed upon. (I had already made other commitments once I got the verbal signal that it was a go, and while that may be uncharacteristic, I know that their industry lives and dies on gentlemen's agreements.) So, I can't go back to doing the old thing, as I was doing the new thing even though I was designated to the old thing. All I got was a suggestion that I don't pursue it, cause the guy who owns the whole thing might do to me what was done to him (the whole sugar coated demotion thing). Huh. I smell bullshit.

So, much like the Life Coach, (who's got a budding new romance and a new job) I, too am working with a clean slate. A relatively new group of people to work with, old friends nearly non-existent, some old grudges buried and some new grudges being started, new shit beginning to unfold. It's not exactly the kind circumstances I'd ideally ask for, but what the hell.

The Hong Kong Times

After two months of fund-raising, planning, auditioning and general day dreaming, the time has finally come. It was the week that I celebrate a bunch of things. One, the culmination of my first year as a stand up comic. Second, the last huge thing I do before I turn 30. And finally, just me going back to basics: going off to a venture that's over my head, alone (relatively), for something I've come to deeply love.

Basically, I went to Hong Kong, made people laugh, even made a few new friends, and I went home with a smile and a clearer head.

Second Skin. I don't know if I've written about it before, but I have also been spending a lot of time the past couple of months looking for a new jacket. Those who have been hanging out on me for a relatively long time would know that I have developed some sort of need to be wearing a black jacket on a daily basis. It's something that started back in 1999, and it's become my security blanket. I've had a few black jackets in my time. The first one I wore for three years and I lost it in one of my stints as a tour guide. (Seemed appropriate at the time, as I had just graduated college.) The next one, I gave to a girlfriend after serving its purpose for another three years, give or take. The one I replaced it with has already been in tatters by the time I retired it months ago.

I found a jacket worthy to serve my needs, and as usual, it was cheap, off the rack, and the last one there. I held out on buying it, waiting for the right time for me to finally wear it. Since the Hong Kong thing came around, I figured there was no other time more appropriate.

Most people would roll their eyes on this imagined need of mine, but the jacket and me go a long way back, and if I were to face this important event, I figured it was best to look like my "ideal" me. It's a tad eccentric, but it did help. I always feel naked without that additional layer of clothing. I look forward to the adventures the new jacket and I would be having.

The Pre-Festival Party. The moment the plane touched down in Hong Kong, I was itching to go and find a hotel and get ready for the show. (In my quest of auditioning and raising funds, I managed to forget the fact that I actually had to prepare jokes for the contest itself.) My mother, who, as I mentioned invited herself to this trip, much to my financial advantage but to a little personal confusion, was being wowed by the sights of being in a new land (a land she's been in quite a few times). The only thing that impressed me was the breakfast food at McDonald's were more awesome than what the fast-food joints at home had to offer

What can I say, I'm just not one for all the touristy shit. I'm the type of guy who'd only travel if there's a distinct and specific purpose. Looking at pretty things just for the sake of looking, well, as a co-worker mentioned recently, we have the Internet for that.

We eventually found the comedy club, and found a hotel that was closely, and I spent the day working on my set while my mother went about her merry way. Come night time, I set out on my own, wanting to meet the people who set the whole contest up in a pre-festival party.

I got lost, of course. It felt good. Me, in a strange place, a big city, with nothing but my wits, a pack of cigarettes and a map. It took a lot of the edge off. I eventually found my way, and the party itself was rather understated. I did meet a few interesting people. There was this American comedian, who's returning to the contest for the third time, and one who I've performed with months ago in Votre. He was actually the one who told me to join several months back, but I didn't bring it up, cause I doubt he'd remember. I met an author who gave me a signed copy of his book, and told me that "Life is limitless". Preaching to the choir, dawg. I shook some more hands, traded a few stories and then went back to the hotel.

It was the first time the whole thing felt real to me. The whole trip, I was numb. I even lost all the excitement that was building up for the past couple of weeks. But being at that party, the whole thing became genuine, immediate, and most of all, fun. I knew that it was going to be an honor, and it was, just being there, among all of these gifted people.

Conversations with People Back Home. The day of my performance, I decided to lock myself up in my hotel room while my mother was out enjoying all that is Hong Kong. I went over my set over and over, timing myself, doing the whole preparation thing that I should have done the moment I decided to go and join the contest. Suffice to say, I was a nervous wreck. Hell, I was bundle of nerves overtime I had to do Votre or any other rinky dink joint back home. This was a totally different league, and I was delightfully close to a breakdown.

I decided to go online for some reason, and I spent the day chatting with a few friends and some people from work. A lot of them were supportive, and helped calm me down a bit. Two conversations stood out from all those people I chatted with.

One was with a friend from work, KM (I'll have a nickname for her by the end of this post.). We talked about the usual goings on in her life, as, for some reason, I've been privy to the happenings that occur in her particular sphere during the past few months. And during her usual updates (the girl's got the kind of drama that holds my interest), somehow the conversation veered towards my direction. I guess she caught me at a vulnerable time, so I was more open to her than I've been to most people in my life that I've known for only a short time. (I usually start opening up after at least a year or two, and even that's rare.) She opened my mind to certain questions that I've heard from other people before, but I usually immediately dismiss considering the source. I view her, KM, as one of those rare breed of people who are actual survivors… people who had gone through hell and back with not much to show for it but a renewed smile, some battle scars, and a shitload of wisdom. The usual people who have given me the same advice that she did is mostly those who has just been saddled with first world problems for the majority of their respectively uneventful lives. The main point of our lengthy conversation is that after this whole Hong Kong thing is done, it was time for me to focus on the id… to discover who the real "me" truly is. Not the comedian, or the brain, or everyone's best friend, or the writer, or Captain Good Times, or the one with the messiah complex, or all of the other facades I like putting up depending on who I happen to be rolling with on that day. Just take some time to rediscover me before I continue serving others. I appreciated someone of substance finally telling me that, and again, I made plans of doing just that. Plus, I promoted KM to be my life coach. (I initially called her my therapist, but I already have that, and therapists are supposed to be nice.)

The other conversation was a lot less pop-psychology and a little more bro-ic. And again, surprisingly so, it was The Critic that resoundingly calmed my nerves and finished what KM started. The Critic, of all people, reminded me of who I was during our "golden years". He reminded of that time when he and I took on the entire class' projects as a freelance gig, and despite everything went wrong, I was the one who kept it together. He reminded me of some of my greatest strengths, strengths that I have long ago neglected to recognize. So, there I was, in Hong Kong, and there he was, in his new apartment, (one that coincides with the new chapter in his life, what with the promotion, the mountaineering and the single fatherhood) and I had a Tsingtao in my hand (A 40 even!) and he had a Red Horse in his, and we had ourselves a toast. I don't know what he was drinking for, but I tossed back for the best of the past, the excitement of the present, and the potential for the future. Our relationship has been strained in the past, more so than with any other long time friend of mine, but I will make sure that changes when I come back home.

I logged out, got dressed, put my game face on, and left the hotel room ready to bring the funny.

The Contest. I stepped into the Comedy Club, and my nerves were starting to catch up on me. I was overwhelmed with it all… standing on that little stage where some of the funniest people from all over the world have performed, and I felt small. All of a sudden, all of my material didn't seem as funny, and I felt as if my voice was cracking. I knew I was going to choke. That is, until I met the rest of the comics. Each one of them felt as anxious and as messed up as I was, and everyone, like me, was putting on a brave face. Unlike other kinds of competitions, comedians weren't out to beat each other out there, at least not primarily. Everyone just didn't want to suck. I felt at home.

We had an hour before the show starts, and I made it a point to talk with everyone I could. I made some very fast friends, saw some very familiar faces, and the whole vibe reminded me of when I was starting out last year… when I traveled two hours just to go to Votre, alone, and i would just sit there and watch everyone and picked their brains as much as I could. All worries I may have had were gone.

Come show time, and I sat back and watch all of them do their thing. Each one was funnier than the last, and the energy was unbelievable. I couldn't stop smiling cause I was just so wired form being a part of this grand thing. Then my name was called.

I stood on stage, fiddled with the mic a bit clumsily… and delivered my first joke. They fucking laughed. At that point on I just did my thing and I was loving every second of it. Not all of my jokes got the reaction I wanted, especially the one that ended with, but that was the stuff that I had, so I rolled with it. I was making people laugh. I went to another country, stood on the stage that many others wanted to be on, and I made people laugh. Simply put, I did not exactly suck.

Unfortunately, I didn't get chosen to go to the finals, but of the three finalists that were chosen from that night, one went on to win the whole damn thing, while another one was second runner up. I went on stage with the ones who would end up taking the trophy home and I held my own. I don't feel bad about that.

Plus, the other finalist from my night put his entire head inside a condom. Gotta fucking respect that.

The show ended, we all shook hands went our merry way. The one who put together the whole thing even gave me a special shootout on stage. I am definitely coming back next year.

I've had some amazing nights in my entire story-filled life. That night, my first shot at an international stage, is on the top of that list now, and it's going to be incredibly hard to beat.

A Really Long Day on Macau. From the greatest night of my life, to one of the longest days I've ever had to endure. The contest was done, at least it was for me, and there was nothing left but the long journey home. Unfortunately, there was a 12 hour period that my mother and i had to kill before our flight back home. Remember when I said I hated touristy shit? That was just one of the many pet peeves I've had to endure over that day. Shopping, crowds, an agenda-less travel, the commercialism, that day made me understand a lot of things about myself. All of my pet peeves came to light, and I know why I grew up the way I did. I had my first anxiety attack in months. Seriously.

I don't hold it against my mother, since she was just being herself. And I did appreciate the support. But I did remember why we never got along; it's because we were two extremely different people on a philosophical level.

But I got to ride a boat, and it was all good. I guess my Life Coach's prescribed "me" time came a little early.

The Supposed "Me" TIme Weekend. Back in the Philippines by Friday night. I've never been a nationalistic person… I just like being home. I passed by the Think Tank, mostly because one of the employees there was having some sort of personal crisis and I maybe thought I could help (but she wasn't there). But, lack of sleep, jet lag, a recent anxiety attack and way too many energy drinks caused my heart to do that annoying thing it does again. So I left and just devoted the rest of my weekend to kick off the self discovery. It was old school me all the way (black jacket, pen, notebook, sketchpad) but with a dash of new me (laptop, rap music) and my journey into mystery was underway.

It was productive, but I'm far from done. I realized three things. 1.) Another one of my Life Coach's suggestions was correct, that I should let go of the Girl. (I'll get into that in my next post.) 2.) I am more than ready for the step I'm going to take when I hit 30. And 3.) One of the reasons I've been holding off on pursuing the Girl is that I've developed a healthy, relatively issue free attraction to someone at The Office. Yes, I may have found my Erin Hannon. (Again, more on that next week.)

Shit's turned the corner, folks. The next few months are going to be uber-interesting.

"I am wrecked. I am overblown.

I am also fed up with the common cold.
But I just hate to say goodbye
To all the metaphors and lies
That have taken me years to come up with.

Say it's true. Say you like me.
(I like you.)
Just for the night.
for me, it's been eternity..

And as I gently sip this drink,
I think about my lack of future,
And all the places I could learn to fall in love.

I know I shouldn't waste my time,
Wishing I'd been better designed,
yet for some reason still think

I am wrecked. I am overblown.
I am also fed up with the fucking common cold!
When I just want to feel alive for the first time in my life,
I just want to feel attractive today." - Motion City Soundtrack, "Attractive Today"

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"