Hello, Lovine.com

For the first time, I found it a bit disturbing that the frequency and depth of my writing is somewhat affected by my alcohol intake. Even though I am naturally inquisitive and spend many a minute pondering the grandeur of nonsense, I usually find myself uninspired to place it in writing until a cohesive string of ideas are conjured up and ready for baking.

I have to admit that it's a lot more enjoyable to sit down and sort things out when you're carrying a little head buzz. Also, the world makes more sense with beer in hand. And as Batman may have it, I am sitting sober as a stone on a Friday night pecking away at the keyboard. Le sigh.

I was going through my old files when I came across the following printout. It was for an art class in my junior year, when I was in the throes of attempting to get a Studio Arts minor under my belt (short lived, and was blown out of the water once I started taking upper division Finance classes). Prof. Holman asked each of us to bring a little snippet, story, picture, whatever that speaks about art and design, make a copy for everyone and take a few minutes at the beginning of each class to talk about it. Here's what I brought:

Wow. Last week, my credit card company called to inform me of potential fraudulent activity on my card. I occasionally get these calls since I traverse frequently between SF and LA, and the agent usually explains that the nature of multiple gas transactions are flags for dubious activity.

This time, the agent tries to verify with me a $400 charge at a supermarket around Bell in East LA, and then another $500 charge at a different supermarket, and then another $500 charge. I don't have a huge family to feed and spending $1,800 in a single day on groceries located an hour away from my house don't float, yo.

And then I come across this today: http://laist.com/2010/03/08/sheriffs_deputies_bust_id_theft_rin.php

To be honest, I'm pretty impressed. If people can do this, imagine the other stuff they could do - legal, and otherwise. And no doubt, they'll just get better at their game.

Took the Vespa to work today. Just my luck, that it started pouring as soon as I got out of dinner. I was still a ways off, and had to ride the entire stretch in a pour. I'm happy with my jacket, which rolled off all the water. It wasn't too bad except that I wish I had some RainX on my face shield and my butt was super cold and wet by the time I got home. Felt like wearing an old soggy diaper.

I've only ridden in the rain once before, when Ms. Kat brushed off the thunderstorm and lightning and insisted we ride up to SF from the Easy Bay to meet up with other scooterists (SFSG) for a rally. What a gangsta.

Anyway, not the first time that the lack of weather knowledge has gotten me into a wet situation. :)

Yesterday was my first time up to Squaw Valley where we spent the Sunday snowboarding. There was a storm that rolled in on Saturday so we were expecting a fresh dump of snow and clear conditions on the slopes. It was also Kat's first time to ski, and she took her first classes. It was actually really hot since the sun was out full force, and I was roasting under the jacket with just a base layer and t-shirt.

I ditched my butt-pads in the interest of time and for the sake of any unfortunate onlookers who may happen to see me squirm my way into a tight pair of shorts. Whenever I would strap on the board, I would notice that my ass is soaking up a lot more moisture from the snow and attributed it to the missing ass-pads. At some point during the morning though, I kept noticing that my bib was several inches shorter than how I remember it to be. And how it was riding high up into my butt. Out of curiosity, I ask Kat if her bib is loose. And she replies in the affirmative. Apparently, we somehow switched our gear. Nice.

I wish I took more photos of Kat's amazing sunburn. It's just on her nose. Very cute.

Drove down from SF this morning, and went straight to work. Since we are leaving the dog up north with Kat for the week, I kept getting hallucinations of a white fluffy ball roaming near my feet around the house. Oh, Mondays.

I finally got around to disassembling the exhaust system of the bus, with the intention of boiling out and refurbishing the heat exchangers. It took me two beers and a few hours of squirming underneath the bus to get the (really) tight bolts out of the way and I got the muffler and exhaust system out eventually, sans three bolts. I dropped off the pipes at this place called L&M Stripping, which will strip out the rust, gunk, and the burnt oil residue that coats the inner walls of the heater boxes that my lucky passengers are inhaling if I choose to operate the heater. Hopefully it goes well. The next stop is getting them hi-temp ceramic coated. I'm scurred of putting everything back together, especially from what I read about exhaust leaks. I don't really know my way around cars - with the Bentley guide as my bible, I just hacked at it with my socket wrench and put my faith in bahala na si Batman. Hopefully it goes well!

It's one of those days that you need a beer for no good reason. Just because.

Tasty Christmas Treatz

To love, to life.

Until it doesn't.

Someone showed up at the door this afternoon. I'll let you guess who was a bit upset about it.

I wanted to keep him/her, but the consensus was an overwhelming "no!". :'c

PS. Jetlag is a bitch.

Today's sunset will be my last in Manila for this month, as I'm scheduled to fly out in a few hours back to soggy San Francisco. It was a good run. Despite all the chaos in the grit of the third world, there will always be something beautiful out there to pick out, and take home with you.

And then you quietly realise that there really is no such thing as home - because you take it with you wherever you may come, and you find it wherever you may go.

Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Aquino!! :D

Took the car out for a long drive to Pampanga to finally visit Alexis. Armed with vague instructions (and Firefox in offline mode), I actually had no problem finding the place. It was a small cemetery, and I found their family vault (the largest in the area) emblazoned with "Tioseco - Pamintuan".

It took me a while to confirm that it was the right one, since I couldn't find his name plate. I always replayed in my head what it would be like to see it - but this time it was going to be for real. My heart always thought about the vagueness of its loss, about the disconnect of my reality, of my distance. And here I was, two hours away from the city, no further away from my friend than I had ever wished to be. Then I saw a little prayer card, tucked into the corner of a picture frame.

I stood under the sun for awhile, my head against the dusty black gate, trying to transform my grief into some form of acceptance. That I wished the universe to always give us the strength to overcome our losses, and the gift to love the world to whom we truly belong.

Eggy, I miss you terribly.