Hello, Lovine.com

Two days in Manila, and having lots of fun so far. Mostly from animated conversations over a good cold brew of San Miguel. It's a lot better now that my friends have started to branch out and pursue the paths they've chosen to live. It becomes cathartic to both realize and understand the reasons behind their beliefs, the tenets of their faith, the growth of our collective wisdom. And good conversation comes from differing opinions stemming from the same collective input and generalized experience of growing up in a conservative Church influenced third world.

I really enjoy listening to what makes people tick. What it would be like on your 'island'. I can't imagine not caring about issues of gay marriage, abortion, legalization of psychoactive substances that are incidentally less dangerous than alcohol, decriminalization of prostitution, torture, tax and spending, healthcare and education. Especially since a quarter of your paycheck (mine, at least) goes back to the state and the services it provides.

I don't want to have no opinion. It's easy to gloss over issues when you have no vested interest or are not directly affected by them. But without understanding what's happening around you, there's no way to understand anything at all.

I need to know the world, in order to understand myself. I need to know myself, in order to understand the world.

I left the house with the Vespa this morning, and the gas warning light came on. Based from experience, I can squeeze roughly 30 miles from the onset of the yellow warning light. I usually like getting gas from a specific station by the corner of my house, since putting gas into a 2 gallon tank is a finicky matter - depending on the build of the fuel dispenser, some pumps tend to shutoff the gas too late, resulting in spillage outside of the tank. No bueno! So for the reasons just described, I opt to get gas by my house when I come back home because of its consistency in shutting off at the right moment.

Fast forward to after lunch, when I'm powering down on the 5 superhighway southbound, half a mile from my exit, when the power starts to cut out. Then the power goes out completely. I pull over to the shoulder, and try to start the engine again. Engine turns, but does not start completely. I do this a few more times, hoping that I can squeeze in a little more just enough to reach the freeway exit because standing right next to trucks and SUVs driven by coked up soccer moms pulling at least 70mph is by no means entertaining. AAA says it'll take 30 minutes for a service call, so I say screw it, and walk the bike 1/2 mile down to the gas station.

So I start noticing that the idiot lights on the console have dimmed, probably indicative of a dying battery. Lo and behold, with a full gas tank, I depress the brake and push the ignition - dead silence. Great, battery is dead.

Vespa and I during happier days.

Phone call to Vespa Sherman Oaks, and I get some instructions from Drew how to do the kick start mechanism. Basically tells me that it's really a worst case scenario option. Well, the situation is that I have a flight to catch in a few hours for Manila, which doesn't give me the luxury of having several hours to charge up the battery. Sounds like worst case for me. So I try the kick start a few times, and figure there's nothing to lose (except if I bust the transmission case which I heard has happened before). Push a little bit on the lever, and kick down to the floor. I can feel the engine turn over the first time, and the second. Push a bit, and kick.

Third try, is the charm. :) I love the Vespa. I really do.

The cashier was finishing up with a customer as I opened the door of the gas station mini-mart. "Can you turn on the air for me?", as he gave the lady her change. "I can't. I don't have a remote to turn it on.". What a liar, I thought to myself, and hung around till the lady left so I can pump some air into the soft tires of the '79 bus. "What about some tokens for the machine?", but "None" was the reply. Lie. So I look him straight in the eye and tell him "It's California law that your gas station needs to provide free air to paying customers."

Anyway, he confirms that I had indeed just pumped some gas on station 4, and hands me two tokens. That's right, beeyatch! So I smugly walk over to the air/water station, plunk in the change, and the machine whirs happily.

Vanessa's Ass.

I plug the hose into the stem valve... and nothing happens. It's broken.

Ugh.

One of the biggest changes I've noticed the past 5 years, is my planning timeframe. Instead of embarking on spontaneous trips and shenanigans, I find myself booking weekend and international trips several months in advance. It's not necessarily a bad thing, just a little age showing through the cracks because everyone else in my peer group needs to plan ahead.

My dinosaur is bigger than yours.

Hell, before you know it, you won't even have time to plan for anything anymore.

The Crisis of Credit, Visualized.

The Crisis of Credit Visualized from Jonathan Jarvis on Vimeo.

Very informative, for those in the dark about why all this crap is happening.

Dear World, you are very random. But thank you for allowing me to realize that we can also choose to be the same.

By Kat. :)

Not a day goes by without me saying my thanks for sharing a colorful world with colorful people.. Even if sometimes, it's best enjoyed in black and white.

Ubuntu: I am what I am because of who we all are.

Ich bin running on three hours of sleep and nothing in my stomach. A mother would be pretty upset.

There's a big chunk of tri-tip waiting to get rock-salted and thrown on the grill, but I need the help of 3 hungry appetites to weather the challenge. No takers yet though, everyone's too busy running faster in their hamster wheel of perpetual slavery, loneliness, white collar pain and cubicle torture. Yes. Me too.

My hands are cold.

Valentine greetings from Team Paul, Kat, and Nickel!

Here's to the lonely finding company, the broken finding hope, and to the happy the gift of forever. :)

My dreams have been vivid lately. The imagery is crisp, but unconventional since the underlying theme was more relational. Sort of like having certain unspoken expectations broken. And the way everything unravels is through vivid imagery, belying the real undertones of it all.

It's always a struggle to get away from the pitfalls of your everyday. To believe that this is the day you'll finally break away from the monotony and make your change. That you realize life is too short, days are too few, and wake up with the fear that opportunities run scarce, and regret lasts forever.

Too much thinking drowns dreams. And not enough, make them boring.

I need music in my life. Not the kind of passive soundtracks that clutter your commute in the car, accompaniment in the elevator. Not the overproduced pop junk that saturate airwaves.

I need the dynamics of live music. The obscurity of the artist that writes to seek his/her own voice. The palpable chemistry of a collective group of souls that individually, create their own, but paint the overall message. The strange calmness of getting lost in a thought, in a time, in a feeling.

The real world is a strange place. So much emptiness for us to conquer..

I found some music I've been really enjoying. Check out Mark Ronson's album 'Version', and all the guests from the Nick Jr. TV show, Yo Gabba Gabba (The Shins, I'm from Barcelona, etc). I'm trying to find all the other stuff, but will probably end up buying the season DVD. I am really enjoying that show. A lot. Wow.

The real world needs less paperwork.

Everything can be done quicker, better, faster. At least there is always something better to aspire to. Boredom can be a bigger problem...

Sleep, eat, live. Love. Get your heart broken.

Die.

Wake up all over again.

Nourishing true Filipino friendship. :)