Reports!

Midyear reporting has finally concluded, with our consolidated reports presented to the owners. After weeks of pain-staking knit-picking over all possible details of our work, finally, the report is done.

It is because of this numerical balancing act that I have been going home late for the past weeks. I never imagined that I would get to stay in the office til past 3 am. Not in my wildest dreams did I ever stop to consider such possibility. Which is quite odd, considering that my profession is known for unrivaled hours of officework. I guess I just didn't want to entertain the possibility. I can get lazy that way.

Having had very little sleep, I seem jovial enough today, which is quite weird. It's rather out of sync with my personality. It is funny sometimes, that during your time of least sleep, is the time that you are unusually awake and alert. That is exactly my case right now; wide awake and perpetually hungry, but otherwise, I feel fine. Although, I'm suspecting that my current uplifted mood has something to do with Superior's being out of the office, and with other officemates being out as well. I don't like to really dwell on the matter, but the presence of some people clearly put pressure on me.

It does put a strain on a person, the perpetual overtime. And it gets more stressful when, after all the effort and time you exerted, everything goes back to you because the format isn't right. But I don't want to dwell on specifics. The reports are done, and I want it over with. Move on to the next slew of hurdles to tackle.

Up next: Monthend reporting.

Music Mash-ups

Ever wonder how Rick Astley would sound as a rocker?

I didn't.

But someone else had, and made this mash-up of Rick Astley's Never Gonna Give You Up and Nirvana's Smells Like Teen Spirit.

I first heard this on a local radio station, and it just made me laugh out loud. The mix was seamless, and the video was such a gas.

Enjoy!

Addictions: Movies & Cinemalaya

Cinemalaya Cinco is underway. Due to the very timely rains we've experienced this weekend, I wasn't able to watch as much as I wanted. A whole weekend has passed, and I was only able to view only one movie. I'm planning to get to see more.

In competition this year are ten full-length films and ten shorts exhibited at six major venues of the CCP Complex. The finalists in the full length feature category are:

24K by Ana Agabin,

Ang Nerseri (The Nursery) by Vic Acedillo, Jr.;

Ang Panggagahasa kay Fe by Alvin B. Yapan;

Astig (Mga Batang Kalye) by GB Sampedro;

Colorum by Jon Steffan Ballesteros;

Dinig Sana Kita by Mike E. Sandejas;

Engkwentro by Pepe Diokno;

Last Supper No. 3 by Veronica Velasco and Jinky Laurel;

Mangatyanan (The Blood Trail) by Jerrold Tarog and

Sanglaan by Milo Sogueco.

Of these ten, I was lucky enough to get a ticket to Engkwentro, probably because the ticket seller though I was part of a group of students she sold tickets to outside of the queue. Haha! Unfortunately, I no longer have a student ID to show anyone, which is too bad, for I might have enjoyed a 50% discount had I been a student (wishful thinking, I know, but there it is).

Engkwentro is about Richard (played by Felix Roco) and his woes with his family, his gang and its rivals, and the vigilante group that wants him dead. Tiring of his life as a petty criminal, he plans to elope with his girlfriend and try their luck in Manila. The movie was good, although the camerawork was a bit dizzying, at times whitewashed with solar glare, and at other times completely veiled in shadows, but I guess that was intentional. It sets the mood, somehow, and communicates the idea of the audience as voyeurs to the protagonists' life.

Expect to be shocked with this film's conclusion, which is, I guess, the director's intention.

Another film I'm itching to watch in this year's Cinemalaya is Alvin Yapan's "Ang Panggagahasa kay Fe" (The Rapture of Fe), about an OFW who was forced to return home due to the financial crisis to be met with an abusive husband and the attentions of other men, paranormal or otherwise.

It was unfortunate that the film had already sold out when I was about to purchase a ticket for the 9pm showing. Thankfully, there is still another weekend viewing for the film set for next Saturday. I have already contracted Eyvicat to accompany me with this one, and possibly to another film or two, if schedules (and funds) permit. Come to think of it, maybe a day pass for that day might be a good idea. :-)

For ticket information, please call the CCP Marketing Department at 551-7930 or 832-1125 local 1800 to 1808 and the CCP Box Office at 832-3704 or 832-1125 local 1409.

Depression's Downpour

I just hate the rain

Especially in the morning.

The Doom of Omega

For all my intelligence, I am the dumbest person in the world.

I've tried so hard to forget how I feel, I've even vowed to myself to once and for all bury that emotion, but for all my cranial bindings, this stupid heart just won’t give up. It just refuses to give up on you; on us. But unfortunately, there is no "us". There never have been. Even during the time when there was a semblance of that, it was never true, never realized, never admitted.

I was the third party, and I was content at that. At least then, I felt some affection coming from you. It felt that, though you love V-- more, you also love me; and that was enough. You are my secret; and I was yours. And we were blissfully unmindful of the world around us. Let them float in their speculations, but wade in murky ignorance. They will never have the confirmation that they desire.

That was then.

This year, I've felt you drift away. Gradually at first, but then, over time, the gap seemed insurmountable. I did try to patch it, but to no avail.

I waited for you to return. Still I wait.

Last night, I was given license to visit you. A very rare treat, as you always seem to have reasons to quell my advances. Finally, I get to see you. I was hopeful.

I shouldn't’ve hoped; I realize now. The first few minutes of that meet was enough to tell me how you felt. You've dashed my hopes, and set my place. Without saying anything to me, without even addressing me, you've told me much. We are no longer paramours, and there is little doubt that what happened before will never happen again.

Lightning never strikes the same place twice, I should have known. And we were just like that, lightning -- radiant, random, fiery; but ultimately short-lived and unrepeatable.

I know all these. I’ve been telling it to myself all these past months, berating myself for not resigning to that fact and for keeping that flame alive after you’ve left. But I am stupid and stubborn and sincerely in love with you; of the idea of you; the feel of you; the warmth of you; and I don’t think I can stop that. The tiger will not change its stripes just because it is hindered, and my heart won’t either.

Thus I am doomed.

----

This post is an entry on Monz Avenue's Emo Love T-Shirt Contest.

The mechanics:
• Make a post about love, too much love, unrequited love, unconditional love and any kind of love that you could think of.
• Put this shirt design image (see above picture) anywhere on your post. The shirt image must have a link towards my blog. Note: Failure to do so disqualifies your entry.
* Include the links of the sponsors in your entry/post.

Should you wish to join, first, please go to this link and vote for this T-shirt design. Click here. Actually, this is optional but I'd appreciate it so much if you'll register to that site and vote for this T-shirt design.

Please join me celebrate by joining the contest. I'd appreciate it.

Join now! I can only accommodate 10 participants. So hurry!

Criteria for judging:
* Number of comments on your entry/post. (30%)
* Number of incoming generated links from your blog to my blog through that T-shirt image in your blog post. Let me know if this is not clear. I'm using getclicky.com to get this info. Will give update every 3 days. (40%)
* Number of votes: I will put up a poll in the sidebar with the names of the participants after the 10 is completed. (20%)
* Relevance to the Theme / (T-shirts design) (10%)

This contest would not be possible without the generous support of the following sponsors (updated):

* Chad of Coolbutsmokin.wordpress.com
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* Ghie of Confessions

The PC from Purgatory

This is my office desktop. I've got one of the nicer monitors around, as the old monitor I was using kept changing colors while I'm using it. At it's greatest, the old monitor would turn pink, then yellow, then pink again, before bombarding me with static. After five minutes or so, it would return to normal. But I know my eyes wont. Thus, I was awarded a new monitor, along with two others, whose monitors turn blue.

Unfortunately, My new set up is just for show. Sure, the monitor is brand new, with its protective film still intact, but this shiny new toy is connected to one of the most ancient CPUs in the office. It has become normal to me to see a popup warning me of my computer's virtual memory running low, even when I only have my email, a couple of excel files and our accounting program running.

Lately, my computer has been bugging with its constant hang ups. Just the other day, the damned thing took 5 whole minutes to process an excel command I executed. And I only had two files running that time. Our MIS has advised me to clear my PC of old files so it could be more efficient. I have been doing that for the past month, starting with temporaty files and proceeding with dump files and personal files.

Tinkering with my PCs memory revealed to me that the PC I am using has been working longer than I have. I encountered files dating back as early as 1996, and whole folder files and back-up files from 2001 up to the present. I am hard-pressed to delete these, as they are working files, and should the hard copies be lost, these would be the last remaining evidence that some shmuck from ten years ago started some work that I am now continuing.

Personal files also abound in this PC, most of it saved by former employees who have gone on to better opportunities outside. I have no qualms in deleting these, but some stuff deserve a second, even a third look, before they face oblivion. I have saved a couple of these files, for posterity, like this video:

I guess they really like umbrellas.

Deadly Sins: Envy and Lust

I've been dying to write something in ages, but I just draw blank everytime I'm facing my computer. For the past few days, my mind is reeling with things I want to write about springing up unexpectedly while I'm at the office, however, seeing as I have deadlines to hurdle, these thoughts are not fully realized, and are inevitably forgotten when I get home. It's frustrating!

To take the edge off things, I surf, and the past week has become a revelation as I discover writers who effortlessly wring my envy button and highten my inferiority complex. I don't want to dwell on that at the moment.

----

Two weeks into its release and Revenge of the Fallen is still a hot topic. Whether you like the film or not, people are united in their lust for Megan. I found this video and it just tickled a funnybone, among other things.

I wonder if the Megan-vision glasses can work for other films, and on other people (now that would be purrfect).

The Bibliophile Cries Blood!

I am a bit obsessive-compulsive about stuff, and I can sense if my things have been touched by other hands, which is not to say that my room is sparkling clean and impeccable; quite the opposite, really; but I know my mess, and I know when some other people have messed around with my stuff.

I came home from work to my empty room. Nothing extraordinary about that. But only after a few minutes upon entering, I notice some things that are amiss. I saw that the drawer of my study table was askew, evidencing that it was recently opened but was not properly closed. I'm not too bothered, because there isn't anything to be coveted in there, mostly papers and other paraphernalia that are valuable only to me, and only through sentimentality. I have a nasty habit of collecting receipts, calling cards, bus tickets and movie tickets and they all go in that drawer to mingle with credit card bills and other sundry items.

Seeing my bookshelf was another matter altogether, though. Somebody had the temerity to go about my books and steal one of them! This culprit even had the gall to take one of the books that I haven't even read!

Still in its vacuum seal and as fresh as the day I bought it from Powerbooks' bargain bin (two Christmases ago), I placed this book on the shelf to remind myself to buy more plastic cover. I have made it a point to never read any of my books until I have covered it in plastic, but as much as I want to read them in the order in which I bought them, some books demand to be prioritized and moved up the list, to the detriment of others.

But who in this limited household is the red-handed book thief? Had it been some other stuff missing, I would automatically cast the blame on my younger sister, for she does have the history of rummaging through my things and never returning it. But this is a book we're talking about, and my sister is all but allergic to reading. I remember buying her a Sorcerer's Stone paperback only to find out two months later that she never even touched it. My elder sister was actually egging her to read the book, and it came to the point that my younger sister cried a tantrum so as not to be forced to read it further. I also bought her a copy of The Secret Garden for her school project, but I ended up the one enjoying the book. I doubt if she even so much as smelled it.

My mom, on the other hand, loves to read, but her current fare consists of self-help, inspirational and business books. I even gave her my two Robert Kiyosaki~s for I know she would enjoy it. Fiction is not really her thing; she even advised me to stop investing on fiction, but there is just no stopping me.

My elder sister, upon the other hand (yes, there are three hands, I am a mutant), share my taste in books. What she lacks is my passion for it, and my disregard for budgets when it comes to buying books. It isn't in my nature to borrow books, but I don't mind lending my collection, which suits her perfectly. She used to borrow some of my books and I can only cringe in horror when I see my books, my beloved children, opened wide and face down on her bed, with the spine accumulating lines and creases from the tension of it being folded upon itself. I remember employing the help of several large bull clips just to remedy the damage inflicted upon that book. Buying books second hand has given me the creativity to somehow salvage the books and return it into a more presentable condition. But my elder sister isn't the type to just barge in on my room and take whatever she fancies. And it has been years since she last borrowed any of my books.

Still, I'm bothered about the loss of my precious. I can't make out who in their proper minds would steal from me, and Lynne Truss, of all authors! Even though she has a massive following in the US and Europe, I am not in the opinion that she is that accessible here. This puzzle, combined with the theft, perplexes me so. I am mad at the crime performed against me, and I am intrigued as to the choice of the perpetrator.

Still, a crime is a crime, and someone has to pay.

I'm out for blood!