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[18 Nov 2004|11:35pm] |
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Lazcano Garage
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but friends only.
Leave a message if you wish to be added
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| Selfish Roots |
[06 May 2004|12:45pm] |
A good friend is back after a long absence. I can barely remember the last time we did have one of those long talks.
So last night, we did quite a lot of catching up.
As always, I've betrayed my gender again, revealing the secret world of clever, remorseless, deceptive males: about how we're not as stupid as women think we are, and how sometimes, we are as stupid as women think we are. Men always say that women are complicated creatures. I would argue, however, that men are equally as complicated and irrational.
From gender bashing, we moved to hope and how we are such slaves because of it. Hope (for someone) never really disappears. Like the burning embers of a failing campfire, all it really takes is one breeze to erect it into a forest fire. We love to get our hopes up only to have them crushed again because we can't wait to wallow in self pity and give ourselves hickies all over.
Come on. Admit it. You like it too. We all do.
Perhaps we cling to it so much because we're all just a little masochistic and vain inside.
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| Live from Siargao |
[20 Apr 2004|05:17pm] |
| [ |
mood |
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sunburned and stoked |
] |
Yes it's me, live from Siargao, the easternmost island of the Philippines.
Now, I promised myself that I could survive without LJ for two weeks. Yet, lo and behold! There's internet on this tiny little isle!
So here I am, posting away.
Siargao, of course, is absolutely beautiful. It puts Boracay to shame. Once you come here, you'll forget Boracay!
White, powder beaches, coral lined coasts, and of course, killer waves!
Lately, I've been house hopping, jumping from one island to another and staying a couple of days. Back in Siargao again, after spending the weekend at Dako, and a hell of a party at Gen. Luna last night. The local drinks are insanely good.
I really wish I could post some pics, but I brought an analog cam. So for now, you'll just have to believe me.
I really thought I was gonna be roughing it, but so far, I've been living the life! Man, I love this place!
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| C'ya in Siargao |
[11 Apr 2004|02:13am] |
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mood |
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 sleepy |
] |
Went to book my tickets today and kinda extended to 1 am.
By this time tomorrow, I'll be on a ship leaving the bay and heading south. We arrive Wednesday. Gosh that's a long trip.
Abe and I were already trading monetary debts now, for favors to be fulfilled later on in Siargao. His pickup is mine! Hahaha!
First thing that comes to most people's minds when you mention Siargao is surfing.
But honestly, me? Surfing?
Yeah, picture me on a board waving the "hang ten" sign while screaming "Righteous!"
Sure. I'll be screwing the sights and packing a PS2 as usual.
Expect an angsty essay upon my arrival like last summer.
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| Evil Tool |
[09 Apr 2004|12:20am] |
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mood |
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 accomplished |
] |
Hehe. I just had to take this test. It's so much better than 'what country are you?'
Im 40% a Tool (That means gearhead.) and 55% evil! *SIZZLE*
And here I was thinking I was the Toolest guy on the block. (corny!)
It's no use. I'm just too damn nice! Why? I want to be EVIL!
I am 40% Tool.
I have a bit of tool in me, but for the most part, I am a pretty reasonable character. If i stay away from the tool-side I will be fine.
Are you a tool? find out at Hilowitz.com
I am 55% evil.
I'm getting there. I haven't done all the damage I could do but I've done quite a bit. I'm just over the border into the Evil Zone.
Are you evil? find out at Hilowitz.com
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| Santa, kindly disregard the last letter. |
[06 Apr 2004|01:20am] |
| [ |
mood |
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 sore |
] |
I think maybe now, I should've asked the tooth fairy for the Skyline instead. But I feel I should be very well compensated.
So I had my tooth extracted today and got a huge molar to take home.
My, will she be happy.
Of course, now my gums hurt like hell. I can't even swallow without grimacing.
It's really sureal because earlier, I saw the dentist stuff all kinds of things in to my mouth, including what appeared to be a screwdriver, while I didn't feel a thing. I even found it funny that I could hear the drill grinding against my teeth, with utmost force and torque yet there I was jolly as a clam.
So when I got out of the office, half my face was numb and I could hardly control the overwhelming saliva and blood.
Now it's just the pain that's bothering me. Thank God it's Holy Week, or should I be cursing? I can eat though it hurts so much I'm not sure if I want to. There's hardly any restrictions, just that I have to be extra careful and no hot stuff.
Oh and one more thing, the dentist said, no cigarettes for a while.
It's going to be a lovely week indeed.
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| Dear Santa |
[05 Apr 2004|03:27am] |
| [ |
mood |
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 enthralled |
] |
Dear Santa,
This year, I really want a Nissan R34 Skyline GTR Vspec II
I know it's quite a lot but I've been a really good boy this year, and I promise I'll behave until Christmas. And would it be too much trouble if it looked a lot like this?
I know it probably won't fit in your sleigh but I really don't mind getting it from the Wheeler's club Tow truck. Don't wanna give Rudolph and the gang a hard time pulling it.
I know I haven't written to you in 14 years, but that's why I'm asking a lot now. You know, to make up for those years that I stopped believing. I really believe you now!
Your angel,
Iggy
I was shocked to discover that my virtual mobile actually exists.
Refer to previous entry:
"I drove through city streets in speeds in excess of 250 km/h in my tricked out skyline, dodging traffic with merely inches to spare. It's a fantasy most males dream of, driving their jap import exotic cars modified to performance levels that put Ferrari's to shame. You can almost feel your head knocking back when you kick in the nitrous and the speedometer skips to 300. Fingers shake when the tachometer touches 10,000 r/min.
And my Skyline? Direct Port NOS with a 6:2:1 tail pipe and a twin turbo V6 pumping out 400Bhp. Yokohama 20 inch dubs with Enkei Suzuka mags, adorned with a body vinyl sporting an angel on one side and a devil on the other amidst a backdrop of blue and white feathers. I love that car. Too bad it's all virtual."
Not exactly the color i planned but that's one hell of a body kit. And the Angel Vinyl? Well, all I have to do is stick it on.
I know I should be very grateful for the car I already have, but sometimes, you just yearn for extra horsepower.
Hey, there's nothing wrong in dreaming right? It could happen! (with a shitload of lottery tickets and lady luck on your side maybe, but it could!)
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| Local Time |
[02 Apr 2004|10:47pm] |
| [ |
mood |
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 amused |
] |
What is it with Filipino time?
For a while I've been trying to gauge what it's difference from real time is.
Is it an hour? And hour and thirty? Two?
No matter what I do, leaving allowance for 'filipino time' and all, I still arrive early for it. I just don't get it. There must be some kind of standard set for it, like an hour. that should be good enough.
People say we got it from the spaniards, always arriving fashionably late in order to draw attention to themselves. These days, the excuse is just, "Nobody's there yet."
It's one of those odd local habits that are just too damn hard to change. I'm surprised Filipinos even manage abroad what with Filipino time compared to the rest of the world.
Even Doreen Fernandez was puzzled by this phenomenon. I don't think she figured out how long exactly a delay it was either.
Of course, here I am ranting about it to my puppy, Nemo. This is what she has to say:
The answer?
Forget about it. Sit back and relax. Nicely said, Pup.
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| See Ma? Video Games are Educational! |
[02 Apr 2004|12:26am] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
 geeky |
] |
Lately, I've been playing Tropico. Cool game! 4.5 stars!
It's a city building simulator similar to the Ceasar III engine. For those unfamiliar to it, it's a video game that's like SimCity meets the 3rd World. You'd be surprised how accurate it is. Yes, corruption, dictatorship, martial law, a choice between the paths of capitalism, communism and militarism are available. Why you could play it as one of our country's current presidentiables and see how we go from there. Yes, you can choose to be a former police chief who rose to power, an active politician, an incumbent president, even a former religious leader. It's funny coz this game was made way back in 1999, i think, based solely on Latin American and Carribean rulers.
It's actually quite funny how sanitized our games are. Just when we complain about the brutal reality of those like Counter-Strike, the sick humor of certain other games, or the rise of erotic games, we forget about the harsh politics we encounter everyday, as illustrated by Tropico. SimCity seems so pathetic all of a sudden.
Playing the game, you realize it's hard to be the president of a growing third world nation. I know you'd think I'm crazy drawing conclusions from a video game, but the reason why video games sell so well is because of their realism. Sure there are games like Spyro the Dragon and Crash Bandicoot, whatever the hell a bandicoot is, but notice how more real their game physics: gravity, motion, and anatomy become each year. (Sypro's wings really look and sound like a bat's leathery wing. Aku-aku's, in Crash Bandicoot, movements are patterned after a dragonfly. Games are getting more and more realistic.) Who's to say Spyro can't exist today what with the miracles of modern science.
Just as the video game industry strides toward reality, shouldn't we as well, come to grasp the reality of our situation?
In the game for example:
You know you have good plans to develop the community. Establish tourism here, appease the foreign investors and cater to the needs of the people. You're bound to step on someone somewhere along the line, like having to demolish shanties (yes, the game actually has squatter shanties) that lie in the way of progress, eliminating certain threats to a stable government, maybe even commiting election fraud in order to continue your plans. People have short term memories and hate you only for your last deed. Enact a tax cut edict and all of a sudden you're their hero again. Sometimes, you have to find other ways to make them see, like establish martial law or prohibit certain things, just to continue your plans. Fact is, people never fail to see the evil and all too often ignore the long term benefits. Who would've thought my rickety little island would be raking in, 2 million (game currency) in profits a year? That of course came with a lot of election tampering, relocation, and media propaganda. (Now why does that sound familiar? Just goes to show how real the game is)
I'm not praising nor endorsing any former dictator, nuisance candidate or whoever the hell people see as a potential president. What we need to look at is not just what he or she is doing, not just what he or she has already done, but also why and where it's eventually headed.
We need to take everything into context and take a step back to see the bigger picture. It's hard to navigate seeing only what's directly in front or behind us. So is it hard to see where exactly the driver is going unless we see the map he sees. The best way is figure out how all of these things tie together, or even if they do at all.
We dwell too much in the past present and future, hardly ever realizing the continuum that binds them all together.
Perhaps someday I'll be able to take a step back and understand why my sister's always a bitch.
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| the open door |
[29 Mar 2004|03:23am] |
| [ |
mood |
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 awake |
] |
I think I finally figured out what's really been bugging me behind all the graduation hoopla.
It's the lack of closure.
Not just with the love life but with a lot of other things in general.
You feel this need to get some answers, otherwise the questions: the what ifs, the what nots and all those related to it will pester you relentlessly.
It's because I'm leaving this school with more questions than answers, more confusion to what i wanted clarified.
my good friend put it best over YM:
"pag walang closure, perpetually open for regret naman e
closure isn't always a possibility
but sometimes, you just have to get over it one way or another"
I don't really know how, or if I can, at least for now.
It's one of those things where the best solution hasn't been drafted yet. So you stumble in the dark, groping for anything that seems feasable. Note the word 'seems.' What 'seems' like a good idea at the time usually tends to aggravate it. Believe me, I know.
This brings to mind an abstract painting i saw. It looked like a door open, although all you could really see was the light pouring out of it.
So you stand there in its path, the door a quarter open. The light shines through it making a bright triangle on the floor. You want to see the mystery inside though you're not too sure if you want to leave the safety of the room.
You are motionless, perplexed, wanting to find the answers yet still unsure if the answers you seek are worth pursuing: worth the trouble, effort, and quite possibly disappointment.
Regret, or rather, it's impending possibility can be quite troubling.
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| Valediction: Condoning Mourning |
[27 Mar 2004|09:32pm] |
| [ |
mood |
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 confused |
] |
I'm caught in between two emotions.
For one, I'm glad at the thought of finally finishing with my studies.
On the other hand, I'm terrified of the uncertainty of my employment, so much that I want to go back to school. Well, high school if I really could, it's much more fun.
So here I am dangling the Ateneo medallion in front of me in a hypnotic manner, hoping the action takes away all the mixed emotions.
The grad yesterday wasn't much help.
From the nasty valedictorian speech (I'm sorry but it really was) to the several mix-ups and bungles throughout the ceremony, to the half-felt alma mater song, I and later on, as I talked with friends, coudln't decipher the strange valediction ceremony.
It's supposed to uplift your spirits, give you a nice little hickey in your heart, but it just didn't, at least for me. Somehow, all the negatives, in the speeches, in the slowly fading images, in the final night at the high school quadrangle that managed to sink deeper.
While everybody was hugging and crying, overcome by their emotions, I was standing alone, in the middle of that frenzy, wondering when's the next time I'd be in such a safe place.
In the middle of the ceremony, a good friend sent a text recalling a line in kendra's speech stating that regrets were good. I really hope she's right.
Four years from the day I thought I finally thought I made something of my life, elated of the future possiblities of college, I'm still clueless and feeling more inadequate than ever, and with the same wants as before but with the added cynicism of knowing I can't have them.
I had gained one thing though. I know I'm not the fragile little boy i thought I was. I know I've been disappointed so many times, enough to know that I can take whatever the future has to throw at me. Guess that's what I'm taking with me.
ISOLATE CENTER, FADE TO BLACK
There's no real happy ending soon, nor is this just the beginning.
This is the awkward middle where things just manage to get complicated and resolution is nowhere in sight.
And like the days before, i will be here tomorrow too, waiting to see the next complication that unfolds.
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| Post Roast |
[26 Mar 2004|01:24am] |
| [ |
mood |
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 depressed |
] |
Blue Roast was quite the visual treat. Yup, that's about it.
I can't really say if everyone really looked nice that night or it was senior syndrome blurring my vision.
Maybe it was the latter.
There's something about the thought of possibly not seeing these people for the rest of your life that makes you look closer. So you do, capturing every detail, trying to make the perfect snapshot of them. But then, that's all they'll ever be: a snapshot. Snapshots can never truly capture all of the person, the night, the experience. Pictures can be deceiving and tricks of light can play havoc on your memory.
The last snapshot I took was earlier today.
And like the night before, the person just looks totally different.
It's the play of light, fear, anxiety, doubt, and longing that distort the image. Glorified or mortified, you start to realize that the last snapshot is possibly the least accurate.
The lighting conditions nor the environment are not to blame. It's the unsteady, shifting, shivering hands of the photgrapher himself, made uneasy by the prospect of a memory about to fade.
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| Back Online |
[24 Mar 2004|06:17pm] |
| [ |
mood |
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cheerful |
] |
The anti-climactic conclusion to my keyboard cleaning session in the last entry was that when I plugged my newly cleaned keyboard back in, it ceased to work and eventually destroyed my old motherboard. I'm not sure if it was a ground due to the faulty power supply (no i did not plug the keyboard in wet!) or that my hardware is finally reaching its breaking point after two short years of service. To make matters worse, I broke a pin on my hard drive. Don't ask.
Needless to say, the computer had to be repaired and I was agonizingly offline for days, at a time when I urgently needed the company and relief of a computer.
I got it back today and it's working fine at a hefty price of course.
With a little Filipino ingenuity, i got my harddrive working again (you don't want to know!)
The new motherboard's great. Four USB ports, lots o slots for ram, two serials, one female (da hell?) and an ethernet adapter! Woohoo!
You can derive from my elation how pathetic my old one was.
Everything else is still the same.
The first time i turned it on, it was a bit of a shock.
Slow as hell and the configurations all screwed up. For some strange reason, the next time i turned it on, all was well, or maybe it was just happy to see me.
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| Wiping the slate. |
[20 Mar 2004|06:07pm] |
| [ |
mood |
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 gloomy |
] |
Out of sheer boredom. I decided to clean my aging natural keyboard, dejected by the fact that they don't sell natural keyboards anymore after visiting computer street.
And yes, I went through the near impossible task of removing, cleaning and replacing each and every key.
...wiping away the stain that tainted the upper left corner of the K key
...the dust the seemed to settle on the studded J and F keys
...the long and tired space bar, each of the F keys and the often neglected number pad...
Odd as it sounds, i've come to know these stains quite well, growing as accostomed to the now hardened ones on K and E as the studded ones of J and F.
Washing them away was in someways sad, wiping away the memories and proofs of several sleepless, brain drained nights, and somehow, making the slate clean for even more of them to come.
But the slate can never really be wiped clean, grooves and contours will always remain beneath the freshly laid blanket with which to write on. They've been washed away, but the scars they leave, the patches of whiteness, remained etched elsewhere forever.
And no matter how many times you've wiped them away, the yellow of age always manages to shine through. This discoloration I decided to keep.
Age isn't something to be ashamed of, it's to be held high, polished if you must, but never completely scrubbed clean.
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| Rebound |
[16 Mar 2004|07:43am] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
accomplished |
] |
Another story written! Yay! I'm getting my groove back.
Actually, I've been thinking of joining the workshop for summer. You can tell from my elation that I'm excited.
No more work anxiety, for a while, at least.
I'm going to be a writer!
Hahaha!
We'll worry about the cash later. That is, if I get in, of course
*sigh*
I am so sleepy now.
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| Nasty Habit |
[11 Mar 2004|01:02am] |
| [ |
mood |
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drained |
] |
There are some habits that are just so damn hard to kick.
You try real hard to resist temptation but you just can't. Then soon they start to hurt you, as all vices do. And here you are sulking to yourself wishing you'd quit while you were ahead. Yeah, yeah. Same story everytime and everytime you think you'd know better to avoid it, but there it is right smack in your face and there ain't nothing else you do but take it. Just to satisfy that thirst.
Thirst or itch are probably the best ways to describe that need. It's this itch or thirst somewhere inside you that just needs to be scratched or satisfied or quelled. You try to ignore it, but it just seems to irritate you all the more. Soon all you can think about is that itch and how desperately it needs to be scratched. You mind becomes occupied, not with ways to avoid thinking of it, but with ways to satisfy it, to silence it. And soon you loose all memory of why you started thinking about it in the first place. Ignoring is not the answer. It just makes it, you, everything, worse.
Consciousness is the answer.
ENTER: Last Sunday's Sermon (yes, one of those odd times that I actually listened)
Said the snake to the boy he'd bitten: You knew what I was when you picked me up.
Here I am convulsing to death saying, "But you promised you wouldn't hurt me."
Each time we keep telling ourselves, "Just this once." We hope it's just this once. We think we'd have the common sense, and the all too often overlooked willpower, to stop at this once.
And everytime after that we look back to the first time we got into it saying, "Last na," hoping it will be the last.
It's hard to keep promises, especially your own promises to yourself.
Last na 'to. Promise.
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| Little Spoiled Kid Wants to Work |
[08 Mar 2004|10:26pm] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
 anxious |
] |
In Frasier today, the boss's kid decides to put up her own radio show. Man, was it hillarious.
I remember my resume where I put under working experience, all those summers I spent in ABC.
All of a sudden I don't feel too good about it.
When I tell other people about it, they all turn green with envy, talking about how lucky I was to get such an opportunity.
If only they knew.
There's no sneaky part about it. It's just not totally credible, at least for me.
It was ok. I did my job and got through the summers.
Of course, it gets easier if you're the boss's kid. Everyone treats you nice, they'll let you do pretty much anything and they're really scared of giving you anything difficult to do. Everywhere you go, it's all smiles but we all know what everyone's thinking underneath all that.
So here I am realizing, I didn't really do shit, at least not on my own.
It seemed so easy because it was made that way, just for little old spoiled me.
Now I'm really scared coz there ain't no more pampering now.
ENTER: FEAR
Now it's time for me to show my daddy I can tie my own shoes! You'll see.
I'm still scared as hell though.
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| Clearance |
[04 Mar 2004|09:18pm] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
shocked |
] |
I finally found out what clearance, at least in my school's context, means.
It means clearing out, erasing all remnants of the past.
Today I watched my name being checked, cleared and erased in each of the departments.
16 years of Jesuit education drag clicked to the recycle bin. How heart warming.
Suddenly, all the evidence that I was actually in school has been moved to the university archives.
It doesn't feel like I'm off to a brand new start, it's kinda like being kicked out of your home and into the street.
Why am I surprised? They can't accomodate me forever, lots of wealthy students are waiting to pay-up, I mean be educated.
That's loyalty perks for ya.
You gotta love this school.
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| Making tigidig the yokababs |
[29 Feb 2004|10:51pm] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
sleepy |
] |
Grabe! I'm so pagod from making tigidig the yokababs at MPC!
I was cantering my gidiyap and got a hell of a work out pare.
Sorry. I couldn't help it. I just had to. Seriously though, I did come from MPC. Javie invited me to go riding today.
When asked if I have ever ridden before, I proudly replied yes, refering of course to my experince riding the Baguio mountain ponies. Yup. What experience! Like a golf cart to a Corvette.
You don't realize how pathetic the golf cart is until you feel the gallop, or in my case, canter of the Vette.
I found myself half wishing for the tame and hardy little mountain pony again.
And I was supposed to be studying today.
Afterwards it felt good to be riding with my faithful silver stede. Can't nothing gallop like a twin webber flat four.
It was nice, but the motorized beasts of burden still do it for me. It's the torque baby!
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igzmeister's journal
embarrassed
