Cravings

Frumpy woman walks into Wendy's and finds it closed.  She was a few minutes late for the last call.    She lingers a bit, then walks away.  Frumpy woman goes back with tall white female along.  


Frumpy woman lingers outside, while tall white female struts alone inside, approaches the counter and asks for service.  Though her tone is friendly, amiable even, there is a sense of her not taking no for an answer.  


All store equipment have been shut down; the registers have been closed; the foodstuffs inventoried and packed.  But tall white female insists on ordering whatever is available.


Restaurant staff accedes, and tall white female is able to order baked potatoes.  She gets four orders for her trouble and insistence.  Amazing, really.


Tall white female turns around, makes a duck face, and leaves frumpy woman to foot the bill.
It really pays to be insistent and persistent, even if it's just to satisfy one's late night cravings.   

Mayday! May Sale!

May is such an exciting month.  Reeling from the rush of the annual report, we have until midmonth to file the first quarter report to the SEC, and until monthend to report the tax.

Hurray for labor!

But aside from reportorial heat, May is also good for a different kind of heat; like the one you feel in your wallet.

The Enterprise Tower holds its Markdown Madness, featuring shoes from Sketchers, Ecko, Zoo York and Merrell.  

So from May 2 - 6, you can expect a lot of corporate types flocking into the Enterprise to part with their paychecks, as I have already.

I actually wanted to buy hiking shoes, but those on sale are still beyond my budget.  Still, a pair of walking shoes for 995 doesn't hurt too much.

Another reason to part with your money is offered by Starbucks.  From 12 noon til 2pm, all their Fraps are available at half-price.

Good deal, huh?  Except for the fact that I like my coffee better when it's hot.  And the long lines!  They're monstrous, I tell you.  Imagine the traffic along EDSA during the rush hour?  That's how it looks like at every Starbucks branch near my place.

Hold Up

Ever since I can remember, I have disliked taxis.  I have this long-standing notion of taxis, and their drivers, being highway robbers, robbing commuters blind of their money.  This is especially true during the Christmas season, when these demons grow unusually long horns.  Why, most of them even have the temerity to tip themselves from your change even before you decide to do so!

This is why I have always opted for public transport whenever possible.  Public utility vehicles, after all, take you to your desired locations, if you know the route.  They are cheaper as well, albeit less convenient.  And economy gets more importance than convenience in my books.

But there are times though, when economy takes a back seat and the ease of the taxi becomes invaluable.  Last Friday was one of those days.

I was running late and my destination was far from my regular routes.  I knew I had to swallow my pride and ride a taxi.  And it was just my luck that the one time I needed one, there weren't any vacant cabs to be had. There is this ridiculous abundance of these little buggers whenever I don't need it, oftentimes, when I'm waiting for a jeepney, a couple of of these cars would stop in front of me, hoping I would ride.  And the one day I needed one, there were none!  Nada.  Zero.  Caput.

I hopped from one location to the next, each time riding the taxi to my locales.  And it's just happy coincidence that the three taxis i rode all were calibrated with the new meters.

Yes, that's 40 pesos flag-down and 3.50 every few hundred meters.  If I weren't so busy, I would've taken longer to recover from the feeling of being robbed.  And it does sting, being held up like that.  My wallet took it really hard.

Of the three I rode, only one was kind enough to issue me my receipt; and I had to ask for it to be printed.  The other two didn't even have tape receipts for which to print the proof of my purchase.

Pressures

I'm feeling a little bit pressured right now.

The company has decided to finally migrate to a new accounting system to ease our financial reporting.  The current system in place, though workable, is ill-equipped to handle the volume of work at hand.  It is also limited in its capacity that it forces us to render manual computations to be entered into the books.  Switching therefore, would be beneficial in the long run.

But migration does not happen instantly, nor does the transition run smoothly.  Like all changes, you are bound to experience "birthing pains" during the transition.  These are inevitable; you cannot prevent it, only prepare for it.  Part of the transitions we will face include the forming of several of the staff to form part of the competence team.  These employees will be pulled out of their normal works to study and create the new system that will be put in place.  Starting next month, until the system goes online by December, they will eat and breathe the new system.  They will build and study the new system to ensure that there are no glitches.  

I envy them.  Not because they will pulled out from work, but because they will learn a new system. I have always been open to new learning.  I always maintain that it is my habit to know stuff, and this stuff is huge!  Those competent in SAP are marketable.  Very marketable.

Here now lies the dilemma:  whenever people are pulled out from their current work, those who remain will have to shoulder the work left behind.  I have been informally assigned the work currently done by our assistant manager.  Even now, some officemates are starting to call me "manager" or "sir", pertaining to the task that will be assigned to me.

I can jive with officemates, though I'm not too close to them.  I fear my new function will cause me to be ostracized from them.  Even with my current function, I get to interact with the various department heads more than my peers; the new function may cause more rifts in our interaction.

I went out of the office with this perceived problem in mind.  My paranoia has once again caused me to feel troubled.

And when I am troubled like this, I go to the bookstore.

Like most people, I address my problems with some retail therapy.  Unlike most people, I don't shop for clothes or gadgets.  I shop for books.  I get a sense of calm and euphoria by being in the bookstore in the same vein that some people feel elated inside a shoe store.  The smell of newly minted books in their crisp bindings provide for me a wonderful sense of contentment.  The sound of pages turned excites me with their promise of new adventures to experience.  The purchase of the book fills me with fulfillment I rarely feel with other activities.  And wrapping it in thick plastic provides me a sense of control.  I am a bibliophile and I am not ashamed.

ArchEnemy, the finale to the Looking Glass Wars trilogy, is the final installment to Frank Beddor's re-imagination of the story of Alice in Wonderland.  The deck of cards and the Queen of Hearts is still there, only more sinister, and more interesting.  I've never really read the original Alice story, and I fear I may not enjoy it after reading Alyss' story, but with the trilogy complete, I just might give it a try.

On a side note, I discovered I can have my book purchases wrapped in plastic at Fully Booked, although their wrapping process pale in comparison to my own.  After I finish this book, I will have to redo the wrapping;  I had to force myself not to cringe when I saw the attendant use scotch tape.  Ugh!

Addictions: Book Sales

Please excuse me as I hyperventillate in anticipation.

Attention Deficit: Mini Updates

It's crunchtime once again (what else is new) and I can't make my mind stop and focus on writing. I do have some posts in mind, and I'm aching to pen them, but nothing comes out the moment I face a blank sheet with pen in hand. To unburden me of my thoughts, I'm opting for this mini-post to tide me over until that time that I can produce something of significance.



Fe Comes Back

After its successful run in the Cinemalaya, Fe went to Chicago and then to New Delhi to compete in the international scene.

The Rapture of Fe now returns home for commercial screenings at Robinson's Galleria and Robinson's Place Ermita starting November 11.

You'd have to hurry, though, because Fe will disappear once more once the Vampires and Warewolves of New Moon attack.

For more info about the film, go to their webisite.











Attention-grabber

I went inside 7-Eleven to buy foostuffs when I saw this lollipop's new packaging.

Placed inside a flip-top box and with matching "warning note" on the label, the package reminds me of cigarette cases. I guess chupa chups are now marketing themselves as alternatives to smoking for those trying to quit the habit.

Whether the marketing ploy works or not, their "warning note" is hillarious! Sucking does not kill, indeed.

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!

Urges

There comes a time when the Urge erupts, and no amount of self-control could temper it.  You may think that you have mastered it, finally taking it out of your system, but the Urge is still there, lurking, waiting for that opportune time to come out and take over.  And once the Urge has taken over, nothing can stop it.  You just have to brace yourself for the ride, and prepare yourself for whatever happens; and let the Urge burn itself out.  It is a force of nature, and no earthly power possessed by man could ever hope to curb such primal energy.  Once it takes over, there is no use trying to redirect it.  It will follow its own course, treading whichever path it chooses to take.

After a considerable amount of time laying dormant, the Urge has taken over me this weekend.

As per usual, the Urge has taken me unawares, and, like a thief in the night, slowly and stealthily took over, leaving me under its total control.  The Urge has led me to its usual haunts, first, at Waltermart, and then at Makati Square.  The Urge never gave me a chance to back down, never letting go until its needs were satisfied.  I went home with a heavy burden.  

Two burdens to be exact.  Both hardbounds, both fiction, both fantasy.  One about two magic practitioners and their testy relationship in Napolionic London; the other about the lost Book of All Knowledge, and the lives of two boys, one in the present, the other in the past, whose fates are intertwined with the Book.

I can't wait to read both, but before that, I would have to cover them first in thick plastic cover.  My obsessive-compulsive nature demands it.  I hope I can find the time, and soon.  

You can restrain it sometimes, but the bibliophile must have his books, and there are no other ways around it.     

The Bibliophile Strikes Again

I did all I could. I used up all the self-control I could muster. But the sweet aroma of crisp, clean paper mingled with adhesive was just too hard to resist. And the promise of a discount was urging me; urging me to come hither.

It was all my Sunday work-mates' fault I tell you! Dragging me along for lunch at Market! and then driving along Fully Booked, with their 10-meter high billboard announcing up to 90% off. I had no choice but to comply.

And comply, I did; parting ways with Roxas and Aquino, and going home with Pullman and Colfer in tow. Old friends, those two, I've had much dealings with them in the past. I've laughed at their jokes, and sympathized with their plight. And somehow, I just couldn’t get enough of their antics. I had to have more!

Ah! Retail therapy in its most sublime!

Now go away, I’m busy reading.

The Parade of a Thousand Amnesiacs Suffering from Bluetooth Virus

One good turn deserves another...


Well, not this time around. I'm here to rant.


It was only the beginning of the year when I bought my mobile; my last having been stolen days before my birthday. Well, anyways, this "new" phone has died. It has contracted some virus and it just failed on me.


The phone now is in the hands of its retailer for the moment, and they're trying to resurrect it from oblivion.


Right now, I'm using a spare. And it really is... spare, that is... in all the different definition and connotation of that word. Spare.


And the happiness doesn't stop there. Before I left that little piece of fecal matter called a nokia at the shop, the tech guy just informed me that all data on the phone will be lost. Irreparably, irretrievably, lost; gone forever. What I am trying to take my sweet time saying is: I have lost ALL contact information. Every bit of name and number I've accumulated over the year is gone.


And I am not happy about it. No one would be.




published in friendster blog November 28, 2006 at 4:39 pm