Wednesday, March 31, 2004
I’m normally a very unflappable person; it takes a lot to agitate me. Even in Metro Manila traffic, I’ve learned how to control my road rage tendencies.
But there’s one place where the behavior of people can still get my goat: the office elevators.
I hate it when people use the elevator to climb or go down one floor. There are signs saying, “Stay healthy and conserve energy. Use the stairs when going up or down one floor.” Whenever one would enter the elevator and press the next floor, I always bite down the urge to say, “No wonder you’re fat and lazy.”
And have you noticed how some people, when they want to go up and the elevator is still several floors up, they punch the “down” button thinking that the elevator will go down faster if they do that?
They’re often the same people who keep pressing the “close” button urgently and violently, as if by doing that the elevator doors will close faster.
Then there are those who talk inside the elevator like they are in their own living room. But I noticed these people are usually with production, and so are used to screaming amongst themselves.
What are your elevator pet peeves?
Tuesday, March 30, 2004
Got this email from Daniel: Just got back from China. Was amused to discover your blog is "banned" (or "couldn't be accessed") in China. Does this mean some Chinese guy is monitoring your blog for adult content, hmmm.... hahaha!
Gosh, I feel so honored.
But wait. I admit I have a weakness for chinese men—their chinky eyes, their lean bodies (look closely at the Chinese contingent during swimming competitions and you’ll see what I mean.) Does this ban mean some cute chinese gay guy will never be exposed to The McVie Show?
I-ban ang tikoy! I-ban ang Chinese horoscope! Gantihan na! Hahahaha!!!
(Cue in music: Queen’s “I’m In Love With My Car”)
Ahhh! I’m back in Orlando’s arms again!
Orlando is my 3-yr old Vitara. Yesterday I took him back to the casa for his 40,000-km preventive maintenance. That usually means change oil, check brakes, over-all check-up to ensure he’s running in peak condition. Since the shop was swamped with other cars, I was told to pick him up today. That meant I had to take public transportation going home last night and coming to work today.
When I got Orlando this afternoon, he had just been given a thorough wash. He looked freshly scrubbed; stepping into him was like walking into a lover’s open arms after taking a shower. After adjusting the rear-view mirror and seats to my specifications, I took him for a spin.
Wheee! Everything felt smooth and freshly oiled. Orlando was purring, the sound you get when there’s no metal-on-metal contact. Ganito pala ang feeling pag nagpa-raspa.
Now he and I can fearlessly go around Laguna Lake without fear of engine trouble. Wheee!
Yes, folks, I have been preoccupied for the past few days. For more details, check out Kerv’s blog, hehehe!
In the meantime, people have complained to me about not updating The McVie Show. But I’ve also noticed that whenever I post too many episodes in one day, some of them end up being “snubbed” (in other words, no comment ang mga utash!)
So let me just say that I now have a self-imposed rule: I’ll put up at least an episode a day with the exception of weekends.
Why an episode a day? I got the idea from Nelz. It forces me to discipline myself. And if I have delusions of becoming a lifestyle/entertainment columnist ala-Jessica Zafra, might as well get used to a daily output, right?
Why except weekends? My access to the Blogger site at home is spotty, thanks to medieval internet connections. That means going to an internet café to blog, which is time-consuming. My weekends are sacred because they’re two whole days a week to myself, so I guard them fiercely. I get to choose who I want to be with during those days.
Having said that, here’s a delayed episode: The McVie Top 5 (week of 22-28 March 2004)
[5 / last week: 5] I Miss You / Blink 182
[4 / last week: 1] Hit That / Offspring
[3 / last week: 3] Yeah / Usher featuring Ludacris & Lil Jon
[2 / last week: 2] Let’s Get Retarded / Black Eyed Peas
[1 / last week: 4] Stacy’s Mom / Fountains Of Wayne
Notice that only #1 and #4 switch positions, while the rest stayed the same. I guess I was really THAT pre-occupied the whole week last week, huh? Hahaha!!!
Monday, March 29, 2004
I am now a surprised owner of a Nokia 6100.
Okay Kervs and Leigh, before you both cry, “Traitor!” and label me a Sony Ericsson turncoat, let me explain.
The Nokia is an office-issued phone. My former immediate supervisor resigned because her family’s immigrating to the US. Thus the phone issued to her has been passed on to yours truly. Now all my business calls will be done through the Nokia, while all my monkey-business and personal calls will be coursed through my Sony-Ericsson. This means the office will also pay for the Nokia bills. Wheee!
On the minus side, I need to get used to the Nokia interface again. Just now it took me several seconds figuring out how to activate/deactivate the language mode to reply to an SMS message from my officemate. I gave up and called the guy instead.
Now I also have to get used to carrying two phones. The Nokia 6100 is a small, slim phone, meaning it’s easy to lose or drop. I’m thinking of buying a strap for it. So I’ll end up walking around with two phones strapped onto me. Will I strap them both on one hand? Or do I strap one phone for each hand (ala-gunslinger from the Old West)? With the former, two phones are too much to clutch with one hand alone. With the latter one can immediately know if I’m taking a business call or a personal call.
Now the Philippines is cellphone-crazy country, but even then a two-cell person walking around the mall is bound to raise eyebrows. It’s a sight for snatchers’ eyes.
So another option is a cellphone holder. Usually strapped into one’s belt, it can be hidden under one’s shirt. But I hate how it bulks up my waistline; it destroys my silhouette.
Or I could just slip the Nokia in one of my pockets; it is small and slim enough. But it makes it harder for me to know if there’s an incoming call or SMS message. That is, unless I put it on “vibrating alert” mode.
So the next time you see me jolting and wriggling my hips, you know a client is reaching out to get in touch me.
Thursday, March 25, 2004
So I’m going down the stairs when I bump into this famous female director going up. She and I know each other because I’ve presented some stuff to her before. So I say hi to her. She, for whatever reason, may have felt she needed to say something more to me. So she says, “Hey, you have a nice body.”
That threw me off. First of all, she’s not into guys. (Exasperated Guy: “Lesbianism is rampant!” Nonchalant Lesbian: “What’s wrong with being rampant?”) Second, we rarely see each other, so we’re not really that close.
I suppose one can attribute it to what I call the Showbiz Theory of Relativity: in showbiz, everyone is instantly a relative. You’re a tito (uncle) or a tita (aunt) if you’re older, and a kuya (brother) or ate (sister) if you’re their peer.
Going by that philosophy, if a showbiz person meets another showbiz person, they’re bound by the Showbiz Theory of Relativity to make themselves look and sound closer to one another. Thus, “Hey, you have a nice body.”
Gosh, I’m showbiz na!
HAPPY, HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO DEAREST KERVS!!!
Fire Horse Fish jumps hoops of joy while wiggling tail. :-)
Wednesday, March 24, 2004
My TA friends had this name game: combine the names of two famous celebrities and come up with a composite name. For example: Mary Walter + Walter Navarro = Mary Walter Navarro.
Thus we have Olivia Newton-John Travolta, Weird Al Tantay, Ara Mina Gabor, Billy Joan Crawford, Carmina Villaroel Vernal, Van Dolphy, Jean Claude Van Gogh, Joey Lina Magdangal, Bo Derek Paulate, Elton Jon Santos, and Elton Tay.
Now it’s your turn.
Tuesday, March 23, 2004
Who does McVie look like?
[a] Billy Crystal
[c] Ron Rifkin (Arvin Sloan in the TV series “Alias”)
[d] none of the above
You meet the man/girl of your dreams. He/she is also interested in you. Alas, he/she is married. You have an opportunity to tell him/her your true feelings. What would you do?
[a] Tell him/her and damn the consequences.
[b] Do not tell him/her and walk away.
[c] Tell him/her. After that, walk away.
[d] Slash your wrists.
[e] Slash his/her partner’s wrists.
You have a chance to spend one night of unbridled sex with the guy/girl of your dreams. But in order to do that, you have to spend one night of unbridled sex first with: for straight guys and lesbians, Mahal; for straight girls and gays, Mura. Will you or won’t you, and why?
You get to marry the guy/girl of your wet dreams! For straight guys and lesbians, it’s Halle Berry; for straight girls and gays, it’s Brad Pitt.
On your honeymoon night, you find out that as your husband/wife reaches orgasm, he/she magically turns into someone else! For straight guys and lesbians, it’s Mahal; for straight girls and gays, it’s Mura.
Calming down after the climax, he/she reverts back to original.
What would you do?
Taking the cue from Leigh’s blog, I took the Baron-Cohen Brain Type Test. Here are the results:
I scored 45 on the EMPATHY QUOTIENT: I have an average ability for understanding how other people feel and responding appropriately. I know how to treat people with care and sensitivity. Most men score about 42. And I scored 35 on the SYSTEMIZING QUOTIENT: I have an average ability for analyzing and exploring a system. On average men score about 30.
I have a Type B brain, or the “balanced brain.” Nothing extreme, nothing too complicated. And that, ladies and gentlemen, is why I continue to reprimand Leigh for lingering in relationships that aren’t good for her. I empathize with her, but only up to a point (“That’s enough, Leigh.”) And I don’t rationalize things to death (“That’s enough, Leigh.”)
God must have placed just the right amount of folds in my brain, which is why I strive for moderation.
A key feature of the theory is that your sex cannot tell you which type of brain you have. Not all men have the male brain, and not all women have the female brain. The central claim of this new theory is only that on average, more males than females have a brain of type S, and more females than males have a brain of type E.
Does this explain why I’m gay too? Unless one wants to go into the nature/nurture debate, I say let’s just stop right here and switch our brains off for now.
So I’m buying some groceries when this really cute, bespectacled guy starts eyeing me. I stare back. He walks on, glancing back at me. So I follow. He enters the john. I follow. He locks the door. I make my move. But before anything can happen, the door handle jiggles; someone’s trying to get in. We pretend to ignore each other as he opens the door. In comes this 16-yr old looking kid. Oh dear, I tell myself, poor kid’s going to use the john. So I step out first so that he can use the urinal. Meanwhile cute guy stays inside, washing his hands. He closes the door. I wait outside. And wait. Hmmm, kid’s taking so long. Wait some more. Hey, that’s way too long for a whiz! But as I move to go in the john, a security guard beats me to the door. Guard goes in, cute guy goes out. I wait until guard steps out then I step in. Kid is standing by the sink. I go to the urinal. Kid goes near me, and unzips his shorts. I’m shocked. So young! The kids of today! But apparently he isn’t a kid down there. I have no choice. I greet his erection with a firm hand... hold. But then cute guy steps back in. Suddenly it’s getting hotter in here. Then it happens. Cute guy looks at kid; obviously something transpired between the two when I was outside. Cute guy and kid go into a hot and steamy lip-lock. Then they wrap their arms around each other. And I’m still there... holding on for dear life. Another jiggle on the door handle—we break up, then kid opens the door. Another security guard walks in. Kid steps out, but not before signaling cute guy to “Call me.” Damn kid got cute guy’s digits too?! Cute guy leaves the john, ignoring me. For him the episode has ended.
Walking out, I think to myself: “How the f**k was I to know the kid wasn’t really a kid anymore?” But more important: “Nasulot ako!!! Kid stepped in between me and cute guy!”
That reinforces my belief among gays: gays of the same feather hunt each other. Cute guy and kid were both meztisos. Cute guy looks like he’ll still smell fresh and clean even after a game of badminton. Kid looked like he lives on Wilson Street, Greenhills. Meanwhile there I am in a plain white t-shirt and jeans, carrying groceries.
In the hada hierarchy, there are sharks and there are bottom feeders. The sharks are the more physically attractive ones, blessed by nature and made more desirable by wealth (right clothes, right hairstyle, right labels). Sometimes the sharks decide to go slumming and feed on the bottom feeders. The former, on the other hand, will often just ignore the latter if the bottom feeders try “swimming with the sharks.”
Today Fate slapped me with a reminder of my place in the feeding pool.
Heard on The Morning Rush with Chico and Delamar radio show: “You are unique… just like everybody else.”
Uniqueness in and of itself is not unique. Unique is common; the word is qualified by its antonym.
When someone tells you “You’re unique,” remember that it’s on the same level as saying “You have a nose,” or “You have two feet.” So what’s so special about being unique?
No wonder we’re called “the common people.”
Holy Week is fast approaching. Before my friends and I would go out of town on vacation. But we realized that every year the beaches and Baguio were becoming more and more crowded. Thus we decided to go against the flow and stay in Manila.
Manila during that week is a dead city. All establishments are closed, like Christ’s tomb. Well, the churches are open, but hey, I never imagined myself using a church as a pick-up place. (An aside: I know of a gay couple who met during Mass. They were eyeing each other from afar. After the Mass, one followed the other back to his house. This happened more than 10 years ago. Last I heard they’re still together, but that may be just an urban legend. Them still being together, that is; the church pick-up really did happen.)
But in the past 5 years I noticed a dramatic change. First it was just hotels and Friday’s that were open even on Good Friday. Then the convenience stores followed suit, shutting down only around lunchtime and opening around 6pm. Now they remain open all throughout Holy Week.
It’s all in the economics. The more people stay in the city during Holy Week, the more establishments will stay open to service those people.
One day the last bastion of Christian solemnity will fall: the malls will remain open throughout the Week, even on Good Friday. When that day happens, it’s “Holy ‘Holy Week,’ Batman!”
Sunday, March 21, 2004
In honor of the “hook”, I’m going to identify the “hooks” which hooked me to the following songs:
[5 / last week: 4] I Miss You / Blink 182
It’s the droning “Miss you, miss you…” background vocals and the piano playing the melody towards the end of the song.
[4 / last week: 3] Stacy’s Mom / Fountains Of Wayne
The guitar “twang!” just before “Stacy’s mom has got it going on….”
[3 / last week: 2] Yeah / Usher featuring Ludacris & Lil Jon
It’s the synths! “Too-doo, too-doo” just before Usher blurts “Yeah!”
[2 / new entry] Let’s Get Retarded / Black Eyed Peas
It chorus is a classic sing-along bait, a call for people to “let’s get retarded!”
[1 / last week: 1] Hit That / Offspring
The urgent synths in the beginning and in between first chorus and second verse. Plus, “That’s the way things go-oh! Oh! Oh! Oh!”
It dawned on me only after getting the “Pet Shop Boys The Hits” boxed-set (thanks, Daniel!) just how big a fan I was of PSB. I have all their albums including greatest hits compilations and remixes.
PSB offers smart lyrics wrapped in catchy tunes that speak of truths about living and being gay. Neil Tennant supplies most of the lyrics while Chris Lowe does most of the music. They’re the thinking gay’s Elvis Costello… if he were bent differently and lived in Castro Street, San Francisco.
There’s this B-side song which was resurrected for the re-issue of their Behaviour album. This song is a reaction to an early 90s movement Neil dubbed as “miserablism” (he also called it “the shoe-gazing period… when Morrissey was a huge solo artist.”) It’s meant to be a satire.
It seems to me there’s something serious beginning,
A new approach found to the meaning of life.
Deny that happiness is open as an option,
And disappointment disappears overnight.
Say that love is an impossible dream.
Face the facts—that’s what it’s always been.
Relax—what you see is what you see
And what you get is a new philosophy.
Miserablism: Is is and isn’t isn’t.
Meanwhile your life is still directed as a drama,
With realism on the sparsest of sets.
Every performance tends to reach the same conclusion,
No happy endings but a message to depress.
Saying life is an impossible scheme—
That’s the point of this philosophy.
Miserablism: Is is and isn’t isn’t.
(But if “is” wasn’t and “isn’t” were—
you can’t be sure but you might find ecstasy.
Just for the sake of it make sure you’re always frowning
(Angst! Angst! Angst!)
It shows the world that you’ve got substance and depth.
You know life is an impossible scheme,
And love an imperceptible dream.
Miserablism: Is is and isn’t isn’t… miserable.
The chorus is a quote from the dying father of Neil’s friend. When asked on his deathbed what it was like, he said: “Is is, isn’t isn’t.” Neil thought, “That was a great quote, and a very kind of miserablist way of looking at the world. There’s no romance—the only thing that exists is what really exists.”
As often with PSB their real sentiment is in the middle bit. “It sounds pretentious,” Neil said, “but it says: ‘But if “is” wasn’t and “isn’t” were—you can’t be sure but you might find ecstasy.’”
It bugged Neil that many people thought just because shoe-gazers looked miserable they’re automatically seen as serious while anyone being playful is not taken seriously, when often (especially in the pop music scene) being playful is actually more difficult and “possibly can end up being a lot more serious at the same time.”
It’s easy to be earnest and miserable. It’s harder to be playful and thoughtful.
Thursday, March 18, 2004
excerpts from the article “The Brave New World Of Cellphone Add-Ons” by David Benjamin in CommsDesign.com, Feb 26, 2004 (thank you, Xander)
CANNES, France – In the ever-escalating struggle to add consumer-tempting features to mobile telephones, the most inventive—and probably most socially responsible—new add-on introduced here at the 3GSM World Congress was a remarkably compact electronic birth control device, from a small Belgian company called Prophy-Lectric, Inc.
The Nippit 3000 chip—although barely a micron in diameter—projects a high-intensity ultra-sonic electromagnetic “sound cone” that is inaudible to the human ear but fatal to any sperm cell within a range of six meters. The ultrasonic beam is the result of research on the effect of electromagnetic radiation on male potency. “It’s remarkably specific to a guy’s little wigglers,” said the Prophy-Lectric spokesman, “although this high-pitched sound does tend to drive off the family dog.”
The device is literally easier to use than any known contraceptive. “It’s voice-activated. You place it near the bed, or any other site of amorous activity. Then, as soon as someone yells, ‘Oh, God! Oh, God!’—or anything like it—the Nippit sound cone activates, sending out deadly waves of spermicidal ultra-sonic electromagnetism. Any sperm that shows its little head is a goner before he can finish his first wiggle.”
Wednesday, March 17, 2004
Daniel asked me if I feel like I’m “not maximizing my talents.” I ask, “Maximizing in what way?” (I can see Leigh smiling and shaking her head now. Private joke, excuse me.)
One can focus on a talent (or two) and just be the best there. Or one can try and make use of most—if not all—of one’s talents. I’m the latter.
I’m a multi-skilled, multi-interest person who refuses to focus on just one or two skills and interests. I’m a jack-of-many-trades but master of none. I can write copy, act, direct for stage and for the camera, dance, do DJ-work during parties, host Christmas parties, do The McVie Show, produce whip-smart comedy plugs, edit on an Avid, come up with an omnibus campaign for the comedy shows of our network, do The McVie Show while coming up with an omnibus campaign for the comedy shows of our network, present to clients with flair, be the official McVie family photographer, produce a slam-bang 3-4 minute audio-visual presentation for a presscon overnight (twice already in fact!), facilitate team-building seminars, contribute considerably during creative brainstorming sessions, resolve conflicts in my relationships, and parallel park with panache, pizzazz and razzmatazz.
All of that I do with a sharpened, honed-to-be-wicked sense of humor.
Plus I’ve purposely left out the wonders I can do to another guy in bed. I’ll let the curious to find out for themselves, hehehe.
When it comes to maximizing one’s talents, specialization is for insects.
After meeting up with my peers in advertising, I realized that they are earning much more and are in higher-ranking positions than I do. Living in a material world, they’re considered more successful than me.
It’s when that thought hits me unexpectedly that it stings the most. Luckily the cut’s not too deep; what’s more, it only lasts a few seconds. Then my ever-active mind kicks in.
“Thank god that’s not my measure of success,” I tell myself.
There’s an advantage to making my goal “to be a good person.” My measure of success does not depend on material things, whether acquisition of material wealth or the creation of materials that are of long-term value. In other words, I’m not bothered if I don’t end up rich, nor am I bothered if I don’t write the Great Filipino Novel, or direct the Great Filipino Movie. I’ll judge myself of whether I was a good son, good friend, and good lover.
And here’s the kicker: I can still pursue financial wealth and leaving a mark in the world. But they’re not going to define me.
And why is it not so important for me to leave my mark in the world? Because at the end of it all, even Shakespeare will be forgotten. Time will make sure of that, guaranteed. Just take Beowolf. It’s classic literature, but no one remembers who wrote it. In a few more centuries even the story itself may disappear forever.
So let my family and friends remember me fondly when I go. Then they too will go, taking with them their memories of me. And soon all those who even vaguely remember me will disappear too. And that’s when I really cease to exist.
By that time I’m so dead I won’t care.
The following is an email from my friend, Manu. He wants to warn cat owners as well.
According to a press release today (INQUIRER, MARCH 17, 2004, PAGE A23), the Pedigree dog food from Pakchong, Thailand "... was suspected of causing renal problems of dogs in Taiwan, South Korea, Indonesia, Malaysia and the Philippines. The company has found traces of mold in the raw materials used at the Thailand plant in the production of the dog food."
They are claiming they will give refunds for returned unused purchases. They are also recalling their cat food, WHISKAS.
If you ask me, THEY SHOULD PAY MORE THAN JUST A DAMN REFUND!
Our beloved Shar Pei, Homer died because of acute renal failure as well as kidney failure. We fed him Pedigree from Thailand.
We are now caring for another wonderful dog, Fred, who is suffering the same fate though not as severely as Homer. He too had been fed Pedigree from Thailand.
Take care of your dog(s). DON'T FEED THEM PEDIGREE.
It was a refreshing though tiring afternoon yesterday, as I sat in the panel while around 12 or so groups of students presented their ad campaigns. One group nailed it, from big idea down to execution—we panelists commented only on the finer details. This was a better batch over-all than last year.
We finished late, so we panelists decided to have dinner together. That’s Marlon, Ju-ju, Lara and me. I was with three creative directors, but I didn’t really feel out of place. Maybe because they’re my friends too. I may not be their professional peer, but I’m their peer age-wise.
Hanging around with them (though Lara’s quite younger than the rest, she likes hanging out with the “oldies”), I realized how different we’ve become in our way of thinking—especially regarding love. I told them I was seeing someone. They congratulated me, then asked me if I can still be available to attend this monthly tea party they hold, usually on a Sunday afternoon. I told them of course. Then I was struck by what Ju-ju said: “The presence of a love life does not mean the absence of a social life.”
I wouldn’t call it cynicism. Nor have we become jaded… well, maybe just a little bit. We’ve come to realize that the romanticized notions of love, while quite real, are not enough to ensure that a couple can last long together in a relationship. More and more we’ve realized that to maintain a relationship one also needs as much head as heart (nope, I didn’t say “give head” okay?) And that love takes time. And that sometimes love just ain’t enough.
Before I throw any 20+-year olds watching this episode in a panic let me just say, chill out, relax and hear me out.
Just because we’re more realistic in our outlook doesn’t mean we’ve lost hope. We’re just wary.
But thinking further I realized another similarity between us: we were singles for a long time. As singles we learned to be independent. We knew how it was to spend Valentine’s sans date. We learned how to enjoy ourselves on a Sunday afternoon alone. We learned to travel alone and we’ve taken vacations alone (with the hope that we’ll meet someone exciting along the trip). We can eat in a restaurant alone. And we sleep in peace with our pillows—or just ourselves—to hug.
That’s why it also takes us time to let new people into our lives. Long-held routines are disrupted. Our single-hood is threatened. We panic—“Hey, I like being single!”—and we suddenly realize that yes, there ARE joys to being single.
For me the hardest part is opening up my heart and letting others come in. In my younger days it was so easy for me to fling the doors of my heart open. (Gosh, I sound like a floozy, hahaha!) But disappointments slammed them shut. Now the hinges are creaky and they need oiling. One has to put a lot of effort to open them. But this is what’s scary—it only takes a little for them to close.
Fear… of getting hurt, of being disappointed. Aye, there’s the rub.
And so we seek the solace of friends, the comfort of the familiar.
But to my Dear, don’t worry. As they say, “The only thing to fear is fear itself.”
Be fearless. Embrace life with its joys and hurts. Live.
That’s what I’m trying to learn.
Tuesday, March 16, 2004
This afternoon around 3:30pm I’m going to the University of the Philippines College of Fine Arts to be a panelist in the thesis presentation of Marlon’s visual communications class. I was a panelist last year, and I enjoyed myself immensely.
Aside from seeing cute teen boys (hehehe!) I get to see how the kids of today are, academically-speaking. Last year I saw some great insights and clever executions. I hope to see more today.
I like being in touch with college kids. That’s what keeps me young at heart. (Touching college kids… well, I’ll leave that to more experienced hands, hahahaha!!!)
For the first time in a very long while, I went to Megamall to watch a movie during a weekday evening.
Before I was a mall rat. I would go almost every night to the different malls around the area, depending on my mood. Movie, music-magazine-and-book browsing? Megamall. Look for original region 1 DVDs? Shang. Movie, but I’m running a little late already? SM City North. Movie, but has to be THX? Galleria.
Dinner choices would depend on which mall I was in—
Mega: Metro Café, Saisaki, Pho Hoa (now gone, damn!), Sbarros.
Shang: Café Provincial, California Pizza Kitchen, then ice cream at Hagen Daas Café.
Galleria: Café Mediterranean, Gourmet Café.
SM City North: hmmm… Kenny Rogers, Carl’s Jr, Shakey’s, McDo, Jollibee. (As you can see, I’m often in a hurry if I’m watching a movie in SM City.)
Still, Megamall is my comfort mall. I’m so familiar with Megamall—I just love wandering around there. I know all my favorite shops, I know all my favorite restaurants, and I can easily spot the guys who are cruising. (Okay, the last one I can do in most malls, come to think of it.) Greenbelt may have better eye-candy, Powerplant more opulent shops, Galleria more Chinese contingency, and Shangri-la more upper-class (and wannabe-upper class) cruisers, but Megamall is still my ever-reliable mall.
It’s the mall equivalent of hot pandesal bun with Ligo sardines or Reno liver spread or Libby’s peanut butter.
Monday, March 15, 2004
So I had a very, very happy birthday last weekend, but today I was brought down to earth.
Last Friday the regular viewers of The McVie Show greeted me, and so did a lot of my officemates (all through SMS since I was on leave).
That left most of my theater friends. But since we usually greet each other via email (alumni and students have their own respective e-groups), I wasn’t bothered that none of them greeted me via SMS. I waited until today to check my birthday greetings via email.
This morning I received individual email greetings from friends outside that particular e-group. Those greetings made me overlook the fact that none of my theater friends (and they’re quite a lot) remembered to greet me.
It was only this afternoon that fact dawned on me.
I was miffed…
…for a total of 2 seconds.
Sigh. Instead of singing Nat King Cole’s Unforgettable, I’m changing the lyrics to:
I’m forgettable in every way…
And forever more, that's how I’ll stay.
That's why, darling, it’s incredible
That someone so forgettable
Thinks that I am forgettable too.
Buwisit. Pakshet silang lahat.
Anchor – Remember my Feb. 3 episode about my once-friend? Back then I wrote: “If I see him one of these days I’ll greet him belated happy birthday.”
I also wrote: “I think Leigh and he had something interesting going for a while, but things fell through. At least that’s how I remember it.”
So last Saturday I met up with Leigh who treated me to dinner and gave me her birthday gift—a Death theme for my Z-600 (artwork by Dave McKean; later on she’ll do another Death theme.)
We went around Shangri-La Mall after dinner to check out stuff when we bumped into Anchor, his wife… and their baby boy fast asleep in his stroller. He saw me first from afar; I waved at him. When we got close, I saw his face change when he realized whom I was with.
He shook my hand first, then I moved closer to his wife to say hi. Meanwhile it was Leigh’s turn to greet him. He hesitated, then gave her a friendly cheek-to-cheek greeting. Anchor’s wife, however, looked familiar. She even pointed to me and said, “Yeah, I remember you.” She did, huh?
I told Anchor, “Hey, super belated happy birthday, hahaha!” He pointed to his wife and said, “It’s her birthday today.” After a hurried greeting, I announced, “And it was my birthday yesterday!” which meant another round of greetings. Leigh took that chance to say, “Okay, I’ll leave you all to your greetings galore!” and left to buy cigarettes.
So I bid Anchor, wife and kid adieu (along with the standard, “He’s sooo cute!” while admiring their baby) and followed Leigh. When I caught up with her, she was busy buying her cancer sticks.
I stood beside her and went, “A-hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha…”
“Heh!” Leigh admonished.
“Shush!” Leigh giggled.
“…hahahahahahaha—they can’t hear us they’re far already—hahahahahahahahahaha…”
Leigh sighed and smiled.
Leigh sighed some more. “He hesitated.”
“But still he kissed you,” I replied.
“Yeah, but he hesitated.”
“Still he kissed you! In front of his wife, even.”
Leigh was quiet while we walked. After a few minutes she broke her silence. “This is the first time I’ve thought about him for the longest time.”
I laughed. “Well, I’m sure it’ll be in your blog!”
Everyone eventually ends up as a blog entry.
Sunday, March 14, 2004
[5 / last week: 5] Milkshake / Kelis
I just recently heard the remix and it helped extend this song’s stay in my chart.
[4 / last week: 3] I Miss You / Blink 182
This is one song which latches on to me swiftly, but also slides off just as easily.
[3 / last week: 1] Stacy’s Mom / Fountains Of Wayne
Okay, Stacy’ mom has started to slip down the chart.
[2 / new entry] Yeah / Usher featuring Ludacris & Lil Jon
It is official: my long-time friends have confirmed what I’ve suspected all along but never mentioned because it just seems so ludicrous—I look like Usher. Well, not as good-looking and as sexy as he is. They say the video to this song is the bomb, but I still have to catch it.
[1 / last week: 2] Hit That / Offspring
This song is driving and compelling enough to zoom up to the top of the chart.
Friday (and Saturday) turned out to be one of the best birthdays I’ve ever had. As is, EVER. And I have several people to thank for that, in chronological order:
My parents, for doing “it” and having me 38 years ago.
My boss, Cindy, for allowing me to go on leave.
Nelz, thank you for your collection of poems, which you took time out to produce in CD form. You’ll give the “soundtrack” to Il Postino a run for its money. Seriously, thanks for your gift of words.
Kervs, thank you for the wonderful surprise birthday dinner. I was able to spoil my officemates’ birthday surprise; with you I walked straight into a trap. No one has ever done that to me and for me, and I thank you (and your band of accomplices, including your mom) from the bottom of my heart. I never really believed in the saying, “The way to a man’s heart is through his stomach,” but you just might be able to find a shortcut. Thank you for a special, one-of-a-kind, most memorable birthday… in the warm bosom of Maria and under her enchanting spell.
Leigh, thank you for Death twice over, hahaha! That means two Death themes for my Sony Ericsson, and that’s Death of Neil Gaiman’s “Sandman”, thank you very much! While I like Dream’s ever-changing but constant look, Death is the coolest sibling among the Endless. And thank you too for another birthday dinner. Gosh, two birthday dinners! That means more protein, which I hope to convert to bigger muscles via working out (gee, I wish!)
Randy, thank you for your attempt to greet me on the phone. I told you cellphone na lang nga, eh. May-I-protect-my-identity pa kasi. You know, I’ve almost convinced Leigh to finally put you out of your misery (and satisfy my curiosity as well) and just meet up with you. Almost, hehehe.
Maybe there were those who greeted me via email. I’ve yet to read them on Monday. Until then, thanks guys!
Friday, March 12, 2004
Happy birthday to me!
Happy birthday to me!
Happy birthday, happy birthday...
Happy birthday to me!
The Piscean Fire Horse is officially 38 years old as of today.
Thursday, March 11, 2004
In our office, our department has this tradition of pulling an elaborate surprise on a birthday celebrant. I’ve been an accomplice to many a Victim-like ruse. One time we made our colleague believe that Senator Loren Legarda was personally angry at him for the supposedly “lousy” plug he produced for her show; when “she” called him on his cellphone, it was actually our boss greeting him, “Happy birthday!” We also conspired to have Jericho Rosales actually come up to our offices during a break in his taping to greet another celebrant—who had the biggest crush on him—a happy birthday.
I know my officemates are quite creative, which is why I made sure:  I’d be on leave on my birthday;  they’d only know about it late afternoon the day before, giving them less time to prepare an elaborate surprise.
So this evening, while having dinner, I get a call from an officemate, asking me if she could borrow the Vanity Fair magazine on my desk. A thought entered my mind: What if… they’re checking in on my whereabouts? Possible, hmmm…. But I let that pass.
Back in the office, I was finalizing the edit for this Sunday’s episode of 24. One of my colleagues was hovering around me. “Joel, can I ask a favor?” she asked. “Can I borrow your Entertainment Weekly magazine on your desk?”
When we got to my desk, the magazine was missing. Right there and then my spidey senses were tingling red alert. Then another officemate of mine, someone really scared of the dark, came up to us and said, “Can you accompany me to (our boss’) office?” I thought, well, they’re both girls, so they should be the ones together. I quickly walked off. Miss Scared-Of-The-Dark turned to me and said, “Joel! Please accompany me!”
That’s when I decided to pull the plug on their prank. “Hay naku! This is a SET-UP! Forget it, I’m on to you guys!”
Turned out my other officemates were hiding in our boss’ room, ready to spring “Surprise! Happy birthday!” the moment I stepped into the room.
Afterwards, I was telling them how and why I caught on with their set-up. One of them said, exasperated, “Joel, you’re TOO rational.”
I should stop trying to be too rational and predicting everything way ahead of time. Especially with my love life. Otherwise, like my birthday surprise it’ll just not work.
How does one toss caution to the wind? How does one switch off one’s forward-thinking, always-planning, too-much-geared-for-scheming, killjoy-ready mind?
Sheesh. There I go again. But that’s me! So do I carry with me the seeds of my own self-destruction?
Fuck it, enough of this thinking. I’m going to bed.
SCENE: a round table with several chairs, a microphone in the middle. Spotlight on the microphone.
Then McVie, followed by (in alphabetical order) Daniel/Daniella, Kervs, Leigh, Nelz, Randy and Xander, come in and sit down on the chairs. They all look at one another, smiling, eyeing one another.
McVie slaps his palm down on the table, one-two-three. The rest follow suit. They all recite in unison:
“Ito ang Show!
ang comments n’yo—
Pabilis ng pabilis
Wag mag-mi-miss, wag mag-mi-miss!
Gets mo na? Gets mo na! Aaaaahhh!!!
Show ko ‘to, Show ko ‘to
Show ko ‘to, SHOW KO ‘TOH!!!”
McVie grabs the microphone from the others triumphantly. The others look on, laughing.
TEXT FADES IN:
The McVie Show.
How very addicting...
How very McVie.
Wednesday, March 10, 2004
Marlon – before there was a Diyosa Nelz, there was… the Goddess Marlon. Chief Emeritus of the Beauty Police Squad. Style personified. Queen of all trades, master of the universe. We are so not worthy.
First time I met Marlon, he was the TA seamstress. He directed a one-act play, but if I remember correctly his lead actor wasn’t very cooperative. This lead actor is a sports commentator whose career had fallen off the radar a decade ago.
Then he was Basic Advertising’s Boy Genius. The youngest creative director ever. He was the Phenomenal Star. He was also the restless mind with the restless career. First he was in creatives. Then he moved to production. Then he left Basic then came back. Then he was in HR. Finally he moved back to creatives.
He continues to constantly reinvent himself. Farm owner (channeling Meryl Streep’s “I had a farm in Africa…” and Martha Stewart minus the lawsuits and conviction), teacher, poet, stylist… could-have-been CEO? Madonna, meet your match in Manila.
He even reinvented his cellphone—from line-heaven to pre-paid hell. That’s why he found out about The McVie Show only just now. Marlon, kaya mo pa rin palang jumologs.
He promised to watch The Show, so that’s why I’m giving him a shout-out right now.
More ghostly sightings in our office: Haley said that the little girl in the cubicle of Sir Johnny hides under his desk. And last night when she was passing by the open door of our boss’ office (our boss had already left by this time, so the lights in her room were switched off), she saw more than a dozen hands reaching out, trying to grab hold of something or someone—as if trying to get out. Haley turned around, not daring to look further into the room.
Normally such stories do not creep me out, but this time it’s a bit different. Haley is a very sensible, almost too respectful girl with an easy demeanor and a no-nonsense air about her. When she talks about them, it’s so matter-of-fact it’s downright creepy.
I think I’ll be practicing my “Dedma!” anti-ghost skills more often.
Tuesday, March 09, 2004
In the audience participation portion of the “Songs In The Key Of L” episode, our dear Erick/Randy posted something very interesting:
see... this is what makes me insecure about you guys... you quote poetry... you talk of novels... books... scents i can not even pronounce... you are ...so intelligent! I am not worthy !!!
Randy | 03.09.04 - 6:57 am
I just HAD to answer him:
My dear, dear Randy, you are definitely not worthy if YOU think you’re not worthy of our company and friendship.
You don’t need to know all these poems and scents and novels and books. Leigh talks of scents all the time; I SKIP most of her “scents” entries in her blog!
Wanna be “worthy”? Stop fretting about not being worthy.
Jeez, Randy. RELAX. :-)
McVie | 03.09.04 - 8:14 am
Dear Erick/Randy, we may bitch with wit, irony and sarcasm galore, quote Shelly and Descartes, drop names of exotic and unpronounceable perfumes, and ruminate on why we use big words like “ruminate.” But I also know how to dance the otso-otso and Leigh loves to eat hot-and-spicy sardines with piping-hot rice (unless she’s on a low-carb diet.) We can sing along to The Winner Takes It All by Abba just like most household helps. (I just have an edge over her—I can sing Midnight Blue by the Electric Light Orchestra, another anthem of Pinay maids everywhere.)
We are as intelligent and dumb, highbrow and jologs, confident and insecure as most everyone else in this wonderful world of ours. So relax, Eric/Randy. You’re in good company.
Joel, you are Balanced-brained.
That means you are able to draw on the strengths of both the right and left hemispheres of your brain, depending upon a given situation.
When you need to explain a complicated process to someone, or plan a detailed vacation, the left hemisphere of your brain, which is responsible for your ability to solve problems logically, might kick in. But if you were critiquing an art opening or coming up with an original way to file papers, the right side of your brain, which is responsible for noticing subtle details in things, might take over.
While many people have clearly dominant left- or right-brained tendencies, you are able to draw on skills from both hemispheres of your brain. This rare combination makes you a very creative and flexible thinker.
The down side to being balanced-brained is that you may sometimes feel paralyzed by indecision when the two hemispheres of your brain are competing to solve a problem in their own unique ways.
I’m sorry but I’m getting really hooked on taking these on-line tests. I have doubts as to their accuracy, but they’re great time-wasters, hahaha! Or at the very least, they can serve as conversation starters.
“Diosa sa tuktok ng bundok
Nagliliab na pinilakang apoy
Rurok ng ganda’t pag-ibig...
Venus ang pangalan niya.
O sanggol, may regla...!”
(“Goddess on a mountain top
Burning like a silver flame
Summit of beauty and love…
And Venus was her name.
She’s got it!
Yeah, baby, she’s got it...!”)
We all have disappointments in life, but for me the deeper cuts happen when I’m disappointed by people, especially those who matter to me.
My first disappointment was with my dad. He was less Bill Huxtable and more Harry Boyle type of dad (but even then Harry was funnier.) Then I found out my dad grew up without a father-figure; after that, I made peace with my dad. (I never told him I harbored any resentment towards him, thank god.)
My second major disappointment was with my close friend in high school. For obvious reasons let’s just call him Obi Wannabe Kenobi. He was part of my barkada in grade school and high school. We were one in our taste in movies, interest in theater and acting, plus certain types of music. (Well... in the last category his taste was schmaltzy. I will admit to liking Barry Manilow, but to actually idolize him and copy him for a mime performance? I think not!) We even faced the same holdupper together, though I was a lot braver. He ended up paying me for a watch. (That story deserves a whole episode.)
In fourth year high, he did what to me was unthinkable. In our theater company, there’s a standing policy: “There are no small roles, only small actors.” He challenged that, demanding for a lead role in the last play of the year (which was specifically mounted for us, the outgoing seniors.) The rest of us were aghast. “How could he do this to us?” I thought. What was particularly disappointing was the fact that he was my friend, I thought I knew him well. His action took us all by surprise.
It took me years before I forgave him for that. When he recently found out how affected I was with his actions, he was surprised. How very Obi Wannabe.
My third major disappointment involved my most serious crush in college. Let’s call him Gone (well, he IS now gone from my life.) He and I became really close friends. We bonded over a lot of things. I’d often go with him to his house, where he’d change clothes (he sweats easily, it’s his Kastilaloy genes) in front of me. At that time I was in denial. But I couldn’t deny the feelings—both romantic and sleazy—that he stirred up in me. I hesitated telling him because I was afraid of losing a friend.
When I did, he reacted like any straight male friend would: “I love you, but only as a friend.” I was crushed, but I kinda expected that.
“I don’t want to lose you as a friend,” I said. “I’m sure after this you’d want to stay clear of me for some time.”
“Don’t worry, you won’t lose a friend,” he promised. “I won’t stay away.”
Well, he did his best to act the same as he did before the revelation, but clearly he was putting on a brave face. Still he kept his word.
I, on the other hand, was the one who stayed clear. I was the one who broke our agreement to remain friends. I failed him; more importantly, I failed me.
It’s amazing how in the face of self-failure and self-disappointment, one can get a clearer view of oneself.
Even when I stayed away from him, he kept a respectful distance. In our email exchanges to one another (especially when he was about to migrated to the States with his wife and children) he never chided me for breaking my word. He remained a loyal friend to the end. Then he was Gone.
One day I may see Gone again, though the chances are unlikely. Maybe I can say sorry one last time.
Like a king of pinball, you’ve made an art of playing off of people because your sense of humor is all about banter. Like many great comedians before you, a roundtable of friends, or a roomful of targets, is the catalyst for what makes you laugh. It brings out the wit—and sometimes the nitwit—in everyone.
It’s quantity, not quality that matters as you and your friends alternate outbursts like the riffs of a hit single. Here’s the bottom line: You’re a social creature. Other people’s inside jokes even strike you as funny. You manage to gravitate toward people who can appreciate a tall tale and you’ve probably never hesitated to fire off a zinger—even in a roomful of strangers. So keep it up with your bantering methods. Laughter, after all, keeps the world going ‘round.
(from another Tickle Test I took)
I took a Tickle Test today.
Today a Tickle Test I took.
If I took a Tickle Test today,
where’s the rest of the Tickle Tests I took?
Monday, March 08, 2004
Haley – our latest employee to join the promo group; she’s a fresh graduate, this is her first job
We have a new officemate, let’s call her Haley. Her third eye is very open. She can see what many people in our office have suspected all along. She sees dead people.
This afternoon, at the editing suite: we have three playback machines where we can preview tapes of our programs. Beside them is the door going out of the room; near the wall are photos taken by our officemates, snapshots of them in Baguio, at the beach, playing war games. At any given time there are anywhere from 5 to 15 people in the editing suite; this afternoon there were around 12.
Haley was previewing something; suddenly she spoke up. “There’s an old man looking at the photos.”
People started freaking out. The editor stationed nearest the door left her post. “What’s he doing? What does he look like?” they asked. “He’s just looking,” Haley said. “He’s got thick hair at the back.”
“Where is he? There?” I asked, pointing at the wall of photos.
“Please don’t point! He’ll get mad,” Haley implored.
I couldn’t resist. I went near the wall, shouting “What?! And he’ll do what, huh?! Huh?!”
Haley was trying her best to remain calm. “Please, don’t. He’ll get mad!”
“What’s he doing now?” I asked. Haley looked again. “He’s still ignoring us, but please don’t make him mad.”
“Are there any more spirits in the office?” I asked. “Any near or in my cubicle?”
“None in your area,” she replied. “But along the walk way in front of your area there’s a little boy running around. And there’s a child in Sir Johnny’s area. She likes playing with the computer keyboard.” Many editors swear that Sir Johnny’s keyboard would tap away during ungodly hours of the night.
Despite the song Multong Bakla (Ghostly Faggot), I never saw any ghostly apparitions before, nor did I see one now. Lately I’ve been exposed to more and more people who have the third eye. Maybe one of these days I’ll ask them to open my eye; or maybe not.
What do you think? Would you want your third eye opened?
Last weekend my Dear played the song “This Guy’s In Love With You” by Herb Alpert for me. I’ve always loved the song; in fact, I’ve already a movie scene in mind using that particular song.
SCENE: Late in the evening. Lead guy runs to girl’s house to finally declare his love for her. He runs into a street vendor selling flowers; he buys them all to give to her. When he approaches her house, he sees through the window the love of his life… dancing cheek-to-cheek with his rival to this tune. He walks off, flowers still in his hand but this time his arms are down, the petals falling off as they’re dragged on the pavement. He walks off under a lone street lamp. The song swells.
You see this guy, this guy’s in love with you.
Yes I’m in love… who looks at you the way I do.
When you smile, I can tell it know each other very well.
How can I show you? I’m glad I got to know you ‘cause…
I’ve heard some talk, they say you think I’m fine.
This guy’s in love, and what I’d do to make you mine.
Tell me now, is it so? Don’t let me be the last to know.
My hands are shakin’, don’t let my heart keep breaking 'cause…
I need your love, I want your love,
Say you’re in love and you’ll be my guy… if not I’ll just die.
We slow-danced to this song, until we reached the part, “…if not I’ll just die.” That’s when I pretended to drop dead. (Now you know why they made me Group Head for Comedy Promo.)
Because my Dear is the baby of the Zodiac, I’m playing the following song for him. It’s sung by Nina Simone… “My Baby Just Cares For Me.”
My baby don't care for shows,
My baby don't care for clothes,
My baby just cares for me.
My baby don't care for cars and races…
My baby don't care for high-tone places.
Liz Taylor is not his style,
And even Lana Turner's smile
Is somethin' he can't see.
My baby don't care who knows…
My baby just cares for me.
Liz Taylor is not his style,
And even Liberace's smile
Is something he can't see
Is something he can't see
I wonder what's wrong with baby…
My baby just cares for
My baby just cares for
My baby just cares for me.
If I get too sickeningly sweet in The Show, slap me. Hahahaha!
[5 / last week: 4] Milkshake / Kelis
She’s bobbing up and down my charts, still holding on for dear life.
[4 / last week: 3] Shut Up / Black Eyed Peas
Another song that’s hanging on, though it’s slowly sliding off.
[3 / last week: 1] I Miss You / Blink 182
After one week on top, this Blink 182 song slips to third place. I actually find it funny the chanting under the chorus (“miss you, miss you…”)—it sounds like “Miss U, Miss U!” How very Miss Universe!
[2 / new entry] Hit That / Offspring
I fell in love with the video, which isn’t really all that remarkable and breakthrough, but it’s fun to watch the computer-animated heads of the dog and the people.
[1 / last week: 2] Stacy’s Mom / Fountains Of Wayne
After dropping a notch last week, this song goes back up to the top spot. I really like the sing-along quality of this song, a throwback (according to Entertainment Weekly) to a Beatlesque style of songwriting.
Friday, March 05, 2004
Randy wanted to find out what is it in a man’s body that I find visually stimulating… in a sexual way, of course. The following, in no particular order:
 underarm hair peeking out of short sleeves
 hair from belly-button trailing down to... heaven below
 well-developed pecs and shoulders
 tight, strong buns
 muscular thighs
Now, what visually turns you on, my dear audience?
Tickle's Original Inkblot Test
Joel, your subconscious mind is driven most by Kindness. You have a deep desire to be kind and fair to others. You are preoccupied with finding kindness in the world around you, far more than you may realize on a conscious level. This makes you unusually empathetic and very sensitive to other people's feelings. Your kind nature makes you an optimist at heart and allows you to see the best in the people around you. Because you're not judgmental, others seek you out when they need a friend.
Your Ideal Sexual Partner
Joel, your ideal sexual partner is a Type 10. A Type 10 partner is devoted to giving you the best, and is brave enough to try new things — just to see if they work for the two of you. Just when you thought it couldn't get any more pleasurable, your Type 10 will push it one more step towards ecstasy.
And it doesn't end there. This person isn't just out to pull their latest innovations on you. They are in it for you. This person has the courage and ability to experiment in the emotional realm as well as the physical.
A Type 10 is driven by the need to express love as much as they are driven to express their physical curiosity.
Why Are You Still Single?
Don't Want To Slow Down. Whether you're working all hours, busy with school, or planning a cross-country move, it sounds like you just don't have time for anyone else in your life... right now, that is. Your timing may be off in other aspects, too. Chances are, you've met that perfect person who just so happens to be married or planning their own cross-country move. So take a step back for a moment. Is there something underlying this? Could it be you're afraid to get involved for some reason or another, and are therefore attracted to people who are simply unavailable?
Whether you're secretly sabotaging yourself or not, try a little exercise. Open your mind to those who are around you (and available!) right now. Then let up on your schedule to let that someone in. That is, unless you want to get married to your goals, and not Mr. or Mrs. Right.
Maybe this is also the reason why I’m taking a chance for love to blossom and to deepen between me and my dear. Maybe I have been sabotaging my chances at love before. Now it’s time for me to tread a different path, a path I’ve not taken before.
Thank you for giving me a chance.
Thursday, March 04, 2004
While waiting for my editor to finish, I decided to take some on-line tests care of Tickle.com. Of course the full results I can only get if I pay, which I cannot since I don’t have a credit card nor a dollar account. So I’m just posting the preview of the results.
Discover Your Sexual Personality
Joel, your sexual personality is Omega-PLDN-9. Your sexual personality is determined by your sexual persona (Omega), 4 sexual scales (Emotional/Physical, Look/Touch, Daring/Modest, Verbal/Non-verbal), and your libido score (9).
As an Omega, you are someone who feels sexy, looks sexy, and really knows the ropes when it comes to lovemaking. Your sex appeal is more overt than others and your sexual confidence and awareness are particularly high. You focus more on the physical than the emotional connection with your partner while having sex.
The Relationship IQ Test
Joel, your Relationship IQ is 132.
Your test results tell us that your greatest relationship strength is resolving conflicts in your relationship while your weakest is ____________. (Of course they left it blank! Damn.)
The Zodiac Match Test
Joel, the best Zodiac Match for your personality is Taurus, the Bull (April 21 to May 21): This warmhearted and determined partner is just your type. Initially, a Taurus may catch your eye with a romantic gesture or their penchant for having a good time. But as you get to know them, you're even more likely to be drawn to your Taurean's unwavering devotion and dedication. People born under this sign typically know what they want out of life and stick by the decisions they've made. This devotion to their own truths can make members of this sign seem stubborn or critical at times. However, know that most Taureans are also sentimental types who like to focus on their romantic relationships. In the bedroom, you're apt to find that the Bull is a creative and expressive lover with a high sex drive. It's just another aspect of their vital nature, one that finds pleasure in everyday things and has an eye for beauty.
Although Taurus is your strongest Zodiac Match, your responses indicate there are a number of other astrological signs that you're highly compatible with.
What’s Your Best Quality?
Joel, your best quality shines through in how Independent you are. The fact that you're an independent person who is usually able to handle things in a self-sufficient manner really draws people to you! But that's not the only thing. Your answers on the test indicate you're an honest person who values the truth and is sometimes willing to make sacrifices in order to uphold it. You are a smart person who is more able to understand complex concepts than many other people are, too.
The Emotional IQ Test
Joel, your Emotional IQ is 125. So, where are you most emotionally smart? Your test results show that your strongest suit is Emotional Management — how much you let your emotions affect the world around you. Successful emotional managers know the difference between having an emotion and acting on an emotion.
This is not to say, however, that emotions never contribute to your decisions. At times the emotions you are having are appropriate guides for your actions. And with your keen sense of emotional management, you'll know when and where to base decisions upon them.
Research indicates that if people who are strong emotional managers can work to increase their overall emotional IQ score, they can prepare themselves to handle any interpersonal exchange with amazing skill — especially by learning to be empathetic of others and by being able to express what it is they are feeling or trying to say. Research has shown that people with high emotional intelligence scores — not necessarily those with the highest IQ scores — tend to be the most valued and productive employees and have the longest and happiest romantic relationships.
I really enjoy going to Starbucks with my TA friends. We think of the craziest things.
For example, we noticed how the baristas ask for the customer’s name so that they can announce their orders properly:
“Your name, ma’am?” “Marisse.” “Iced mocha latte for Marisse!”
“Your name, sir?” “Joel.” “Short soy white mocha for Joel!”
We wondered what would happen if we gave different names:
“All.” “Tall orange frappuchino for All!” (Everyone makes a mad dash for the counter.)
“Free.” “Tall mocha latte for Free!” (“Gee, I don’t have to pay for this? Thanks!”)
“Sooth.” “Grande green tea frappuchino for Sooth!” (“I know not whereof thou speaketh!”)
“Lorne.” Iced mocha latte for Lorne!” (Nalungkot bigla ang inorder na kape.)
“Play.” “Tall white choco for Play!” (“It’s getting hot in here, ha! Wanna take off your clothes?”)
“Nick Kate.” “Short espresso frappuchino for Nick Kate!” (Everyone suddenly starts humping one another.)
“Hiza-Jali Goodfellow.” (A Muslim Englishman, perhaps?) “Short soy white mocha for Hiza-Jali Goodfellow!” (Everyone sings, “That nobody can deny! That nobody can deny!”)
Wednesday, March 03, 2004
Today was a rather busy but ordinary day. Looked at The Show and panicked. What, no episode for today?! That cannot be! Times like these, I don’t need a Juicy; I need to recycle stuff. And so looking at my old documents, I came across the following....
Dr. Ricky Abad, artistic director of Tanghalang Ateneo, once asked the TA alumni to answer the following question: “What did I learn in theater that helped me in my post-college days?” Below are my post-TA learnings:
1. Know your role. It’s difficult to play Macbeth when you really want to be Lady Macbeth.
2. Do not upstage. Your director may throw a chair at you. He may even throw you out of his company.
3. Find your light. But avoid unflattering florescent light.
4. After a tiring rehearsal or performance, eat.
5. Always give it your best shot. There are no “take twos”—there’s only a next time. But the run will always come to an end.
6. It’s okay to make mistakes. They’re the ones you remember the most and are always brought up during company parties. Cracks ‘em up all the time.
7. When the unexpected happens, improvise. When two monks appear on-stage instead of just one, just say “Why, they both squint!”
8. Theater and studies must mix. You cannot join productions if you’re kicked out of school.
9. Be generous onstage and off, but be selfish with your make-up.
10. Home is where the heart is. If your heart isn’t into theater, don’t hang around TA doing nothing—go home.
11. Thanks, Ricky. For everything.
Tuesday, March 02, 2004
Lest you, my dear audience, think that The McVie Show is going to turn all-mushy and become a love story… pish posh! Heaven forbid.
Love is like the song “Pamela” sung by Vhong Navarro. I cannot escape it—it lodges in my brain and refuses to leave. So I give in to it and even learn how to dance the steps. I can’t say I dance better than Streetboy Vhong, but I can gyrate and move my body in ways that can drive my dear crazy.
Pamela one, igalaw ang katawan!
Pamela two, kumembot ng ganito!
Pamela three, parang kinikiliti!
Pamela four, gagayahin ang F4!
Today I decided to be brave.
Today I decided to take a chance.
Today I decided to not play it safe.
Today I decided I would not be a control freak.
I’ve longed all my life to have a lover, and now that he’s here, I’ve tried to play safe, be sure, make things so perfect I’m practically choking it to death even before love can grow.
Summer is here. The heat is inescapable. The sun’s rays are burning bright.
Let there be light.
Monday, March 01, 2004
I took an online IQ test and got 129 which is quite high enough. The test result says: “Joel, you are a Visionary Philosopher. This means you are highly intelligent and have a powerful mix of skills and insight that can be applied in a variety of different ways.”
Because we have editing machines, our office is always on very cold to near freezing temperatures. This gives us in the office an excuse to whip out our faux furs and leather jackets and—at the height of the Estrada impeachment—pashminas ala-Legarda for the ladies. To thaw out I’d go out of the office for lunch or grab some coffee in the afternoon.
Today I stepped out of the office and was promptly hit by a solid wall—of heat. Yikes! Summer’s here. Visions of ripe mangoes, ice-cold drinks, sweaty afternoons and bare torsos of street boys filled my head.
As a kid I always looked forward to summer. Well, until grade 3, when my parents surprised me with the dreaded news: “This summer you’ll be circumcised.” After that, summer was a magical time again. We took our bikes around our village. We hiked to the hills of Marikina. We flew kites, climbed guava trees and played piko. We stuffed our faces with aratillis, duhat and kamias. We looked forward to beach outings.
Ah, to be a kid once again this summer!
Pakshet! And I promised myself I will not take these silly on-line tests.
?? Which Of The Greek Gods Are You ??
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So SHOOT me.
I spent a beautiful weekend with my dear. Yet I couldn’t leave well enough alone and I fear I may have said things that shook him up more than I intended to do. I don’t want to hurt people, but more than that I don’t want to hurt people through my failure to communicate properly.
I’m not a fixed creature. Because of this it always takes me quite a while before I decide on the major stuff of life. But I’m not afraid to consider the worst—aside from the best—that may happen; in so considering, I can make the best out of whatever happens.
There’s so much love in this world; people just love to forget that fact of life and focus instead on loss and the fear of what could have been. I don’t know how to act in the face of such love. So I turn to other people’s words instead.
Rumi was a spiritual teacher as well as a poet, but he never wrote down his words; instead, a scribe would take down the words that spilled out of his mouth.
by Rumi (English translation by Coleman Barks)
Be helpless, dumbfounded,
Unable to say yes or no.
Then a stretcher will come from grace to gather us up.
We are too dull-eyed to see that beauty.
If we say we can, we’re lying.
If we say No, we don’t see it,
That No will behead us
And shut tight our window onto spirit.
So let us rather not be sure of anything,
Beside ourselves, and only that, so
Miraculous beings come running to help.
Crazed, lying in a zero circle, mute,
We shall be saying finally,
With tremendous eloquence, Lead us.
When we have totally surrendered to that beauty,
We shall be a mighty kindness.
[5 / new entry] Pamela / Vhong Navarro
Okay, I have to be really honest and true to myself. Truth be told, I’m not really a big fan of this bakya hit. But the melody is SO insidious it lodges in your brain even if you don’t like it. This whole weekend I couldn’t get it out of my head, last-song syndrome and all. Worse, I’m beginning to memorize the dance steps too! So… if you can’t beat ‘em, embrace ‘em.
[4 / re-entry] Milkshake / Kelis
Well, waddaya know! She dropped off last week, but thanks to a super-sexy music video (albeit very hetero), she’s back. Her percussive hit is too irresistible.
[3 / last week: 3] Shut Up / Black Eyed Peas
This song is an example of a slow-burn song: takes a while for me to warm up to it, but also takes a long time before I get tired of it.
[2 / last week: 1] Stacy’s Mom / Fountains Of Wayne
Awww, last week’s top song fell to number two, which means there’s a new number one…
[1 / last week: 2] I Miss You / Blink 182
Everybody sing! Don’t waste your time my dears, it’s already a song inside my head.