There are a couple of moving pieces.

In my web exploits today, I came across an article on a blog that is aiming to build their own working internet tablet. It was, of course, no small undertaking, especially for a blog that would attempt this for the first time. When I saw the picture of the rough prototype it struck me as a very no-nonsense design, which the editors contended they would try to make more "industrial".

When I went to the comments section, I came across a bystander who asked, "What are the hardware specs you have defined for the first beta?..." The answer from one of the team was, "we'll talk about the hardware once it's nailed down, there are a couple of moving pieces."

A couple of moving pieces.

Now it struck me that this was an excellent way to describe their device. It's very sensory; it's as if you were holding the device in your hands and as you move it around it makes clanking noises, indicating that the parts have not been nailed down. In essence, it gave an abstract quality of the device (the fact that its hardware specification has not been finalized) a physical dimension (that of the parts not being nailed down).

As I reflected on those words further, I realized that they offer some insight as to why I have so many projects. My life, as well as everyone's life, is always undergoing some major redesign. Everyone does have a couple of moving pieces. I'm beginning to see that my projects are a dramatization of these clanking noises. That is, if I were the TechCrunch Tablet prototype A, and you were to turn me over in your hands, you would hear the sound of Planet Run, of imo, of Kykonian and Samnite, and much more.

I think that it is a healthy thing to have a few moving parts. That way, when the specifications change, when the consumer wants a different functionality, only a few screws will need to be turned.

Thanks for reading.

Song in my head: Abba, "Our Last Summer".

P.S. I will be going around the island tomorrow. (That is not a trivial feat, but neither is it profound.) Let me see if I could take some pictures of the effort.

Circumspect

I guess it does take a few years to notice any kind of pattern.

Today I finished writing Planet Run 2.5. As I think about it now, I remember that it was in early 2006 that version 2.0 came into being, as little more than paper cutouts, a borrowed chessboard, and an OpenOffice document. One broken leg, two years' worth of playtesting, and countless hours of ruminating on the matter later, the project is the closest it has ever been to completion. Is it true? Will Planet Run be my first ever completed project?

We'll see.

I also seem to have regained the ability to stay up past 2:00 am. I'm not glad at all, as it comes right at the point when I do not need it. I mean, where was this ability when I was trying to study for my exams this semester?

In other news, I still have not sent out any Christmas cards. I still am determined to send them, but perhaps I have to tweak the wording now a bit, seeing as how Christmas is almost over.

Thanks for reading. And a belated Merry Christmas.

Song in my head: Journey, "Any Way You Want It".

A selfish streak

I don't know why I thought this was the time to buy myself a Nintendo DS. Perhaps I've waited long enough, you know? I mean, the DSi is already selling here on Guam, so I thought I'd pounce.

When I prophesy that my Christmas season was going to be busy, even I did not realize just how busy I was going to get. People left and right were having parties, performances, and the like. A big disadvantage for this year is that the beginning of the Christmas season cut into Final Exams week. So I don't know just how poorly I did, but I guess we'll just have to wait and see the damage. This time around I know I am at fault, though, because I was supposed to have already learned the lessons last semester. And here I am, once again singing the alma mater song for a class I am not graduating with.

At the same time, though, I have a feeling that this time something will be different. It's not really a "good" feeling per se; I guess I'm just feeling a bit... expectant. I haven't felt that in a long time.

Hopefully I could get cracking on those Christmas cards.

Thanks for reading.

Song in my head: The Darkness, "I Believe in a Thing Called Love". I apologize if I already had put out this song, but I find it apropos in two levels. One is that it's one of the songs on the game Guitar Hero: On Tour for the DS that I bought.

Shorn

I had a haircut today at that place people get a haircut when they're short on change but high on patience (and a nose that is difficult to offend). I've had my hair cut there almost exclusively this year, simply because I like the illusion that I am saving money, and also because it's close to the Plantation.

When I take a haircut, I make it a point to smile at myself in the mirror at least once in a while. I want to try on the emerging hair with the expression I would like to wear the most often. The stylist did not seem to notice, so I guess it was all right.

Then I had a thought: I'm gonna need a haircut again in a few months. I think that realization caught me because the stylist today was the same person who cut my hair the last time. And I think I was even wearing the same shirt. Why should I cut my hair? If it's going to grow back anyway, why even fight it? Stuff like growing hair... that's like entropy, man, nay, like the "kipple" in Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?. What's the use?

Of course, when I walked out of the double doors, the late afternoon wind ran between the strands of my now adequately-thinned hair and over my scalp. That's a feeling I haven't had in, well, a month.

So that's why.

Thanks for reading.

Song in my head: Lenny Kravitz, "Are You Gonna Go My Way".

Random variable

Has anyone ever thought of just how poetic a name the "Jaws of Life" is? I mean, it's a device with a pair of jaws which seeks to prolong the life of victims trapped in twisted cars and whatnot.

Song in my head: Jack White and Alicia Keys, "Another Way to Die".

Special character

My mother has a habit of whipping out the Magic Mic and singing karaoke on random nights. Tonight was one of them. Naturally, after I ate dinner, I joined her for some of the songs, and we noticed an oddity: a song that I know as "Longer" by Dan Fogelberg was masquerading under the title "Lonely". We clearly saw the opening lines of the song "Longer", so I decided to select it, and thereby discovered a song we thought didn't exist in our magic mic.

The revelation brought to mind my very short stay in Saipan last weekend. A couple of brothers was driving me towards the hotel, and as we were talking story I realized that Saipan was filled with green stuff and buildings. If it wasn't being taken over by vegetation, it was the site of some commercial center or hotel or store.

It wasn't until someone asked me about it when I touched back down onto Guam that I realized that I didn't see any houses when I was there. Now that I think about it, I only traveled on two of the main roads of Saipan and most likely the houses are along the minor roads. But Saipan has a grand total of three main roads, and it didn't seem possible that I didn't see any places to stay there.

That, of course, warrants greater scrutiny. Perhaps when I take another trip there, I should stay at someone's house. But there is no denying it: Saipan was picturesque. However, I didn't think that I would ever say that a place was too "green". Perhaps I just got used to how gray Guam has become.

At least now I know what Kim sees whenever she hops there every week or so.

Thanks for reading.

Song in my head: Stevie Wonder, "Overjoyed".

Half-machine

Yeah, yeah, I know, I know... these dispatches are getting sparser. But I'm still here.

To tell the truth, I am not as focused as I would like to be. In fact, I am certain that I was much more focused as a junior in high school than I am now. I think I have relaxed too much, and I don't know how to spring back up.

It just feels as if I am unable to do anything at all, that any actions I am taking in order to further myself and those around me (chores at home, schoolwork--rather the lack thereof, my health, etc.) are being forced upon me. I came upon the conclusion that I've more or less felt like this for almost as long as I can remember anymore. A few minutes ago, when I realized this, I was very puzzled, but now it's like I do not know the correct way to react to that revelation.

What puzzles me further is the fact that I have so many open side-projects, many of them languishing just short of being completed. Can it really be called creativity if the creations are not complete?

So here I am. Still waiting for input, I guess.

Song in my head: Lil' Wayne, "A Milli".

Finish

Perhaps I have been too stubborn in insisting that time will march on no matter what I do.

Song in my head: Justin Timberlake, "Like I Love You".

It's quiet... too quiet.

Today what woke me up was the "Gimme Gimme" ringtone I had in my phone (which, as I am reflecting on it now, I was quite fortunate to set to "ring" last night). Had the phone stayed "silent" that time, I would have missed work. And of course, that would have been disastrous.

Now, this was not what I was planning on writing about, but the more I reflect on that simple action of setting my cell phone to "ring" last night, the more amazed I was about the "butterfly effect" I am observing wround it. Had I not been awakened by that phone call, I would certainly have come late to work, which would have been completely my fault. I would have been censured... heck, I think that once word had got to my boss of such a thing happening I would have been fired on the spot. I wouldn't be writing on the blog today; instead I would have answered a few emails a bit more enthusiastically, and I would have gone to sleep worried about where I would get one more semester's worth of tuition from.

But the action that prevented all that--my setting my phone to "ring"--was comparably insignificant. It was very much an afterthought. I mean, when I went to bed last night I knew I had to be at work at a certain time, but I was confident that I would wake up on time. Now that I reflect upon it, I did not have a conscious reason to set my phone to "ring". I was thinking to myself, "Hey, wouldn't it be cool to hear someone text me in the morning?"

It leads me to an observation: small actions can have big effects. Now, this is something you (and most certainly I) already know, but never before has it been demonstrated for me with such force.

So pay attention. Is that the lesson here?

Thanks for reading.

Song in my head: Jim Brickman, "Destiny".

P.S. Actually, the title refers to an observation my coworker made about the Plantation. It is very quiet here. In fact, the point was driven home for me this morning as well. I woke up to the cell phone ringtone, and when I got off the phone, realizing that I had to leave the house now, without any hesitation, I realized how quiet it was.

There was nothing to be heard other than my thoughts.

Silence is a double-edged sword.

Day # 8766

Here's to 8766 more. ^_^

Song in my head: Jazmine Sullivan, "I Need You Bad". Too bad it is not in my range. ^_^

Paper crane folds

I cannot believe that it has been a month since I have posted here. I don't attribute to this my reduced use of the computer; in fact in the last month it has increased. But maybe there hasn't been anything to write about. That isn't true, either; I could've spent dozens of posts solely on what I remember of the last month. So in short, I don't know why I have missed so many days.

I learned how to make a paper crane from a square piece of paper.

Anyway, two things that happened today finally sent me to the notepad. The first one was a clever turn of the phrase that I came up with while I was making IDs for what seemed like eternity. I expounded on smiling at a picture ID thus:

Smiles are like milk: they are sweet, but they turn rancid very easily.

The person who was having her picture taken asked, "Did you come up with that just now?"

At a gathering I attended tonight, I came across a girl I first saw at another party perhaps a year or a year and a half ago. I remembered very little about her save her face and the fact that she couldn't hear. The first time we met there were physical games at the party, so there was very little need to speak.

So tonight as I passed by her, I instinctively waved to her and said "Hi". She did not seem to notice, and I thought nothing more of it as I sampled the food. But I had occasion to pass by her again, and this time I came closer, intending to let her see the hand that I had held up. But this time she took the rest of the steps towards me and encircled me in her arms.

Finally understanding, I did the same and held her close.

The moral to all this is one man's hello is another man's hug. Tonight, I held my deaf friend a lot closer than I would have been comfortable with had it been another person (even a girl) that I knew just as well. But I could have done very little to otherwise show her affection on the level of my normal cordial "Hello" combined with an upraised hand, which she had (I surmise) only a dim inkling of.

It would have worked, but the hug was better.

Perhaps I should save that as a quote as well? ^_^

Thanks for reading.

Song in my head: Robin Gibb, "Boys Do Fall in Love".

Seventeen syllables, No. 75

Ocean, your wrinkles
Look smaller from here; that's why
Sun visits nightly.

Seventeen syllables, No. 74

A myriad cotton
Clouds stampede serenely past
Me at Seat 2A.

Kumakantang bubuyog

Hoy!
Kumanta ka!
Sumama ka!
Makisali!
Hoy!
Isubok mo!
Ihataw mo
Ang awitin!
Hoy!

Seventeen syllables, No. 73

Six feet of cotton
Plus my ten fingers equal
A string butterfly.

Prisoner of war

Right before I slept a few nights ago, a clear picture came to my head. It was of a deserted North Korean intersection, with impeccably drab edifices flanking the perpendicular rivers of asphalt. In the middle of the intersection there stood erect a female traffic guard, looking straight ahead. She was smartly dressed, the white belt crossing her sea-blue blouse gleaming white in the unforgiving Sun, the unforgiving proxy of the Dear Leader's commanding gaze.

What would it be like to kiss her?

Would that set her free?

How silly of me to think that! Of course not... it wouldn't set her free. It would imprison me.

Hey, I didn't say the picture made sense. ^_^

In other news I think I haven't decided on a hobby to spend time on this summer, but perhaps SHIFT 2 would be a good candidate. It has taken up at least half an hour of every session I spend in front of my computer. Go check it out, and once you get the gist, come back here and try this level my sister and I collaborated on:

A080Z502125211233212A0522Z0Z10Z10ZAB10Z5Z210ZA03133110Z5213251251C005Z1522416012210Z33112C0050131C005013222Z5Z210Z10Z10ZAB5011210Z10Z6122161211602Z0Z5124210Z5Z15224153Z10Z5311210Z612114024153Z5324210Z10Z60Z23ZC004133210Z122516021150ZC006Z10112153Z10Z10Z10Z31131C0020Z10Z5Z210ZA05Z14Z210Z41122B0Z0225110Z10Z10Z70ZC006012110Z10Z52112B0Z52Z10Z10Z322515311210Z10ZC0053221C0030142311221242132451524510045110Z5211210Z31141A0321220013130122C0090451004514015210Z10Z312417122100Z132223312210ZB045100Z

Anyway, before you load the code, make sure to remove the spaces.

Thanks for reading.

Song in my head: Usher, "Love in This Club".

P.S. Also, the CC is a lie.

Seventeen syllables, No. 72

The rain remembers
A song, perhaps, and taps the
Beats on my windshield.

Seventeen syllables, No. 71

The plastic wrapper
Crunches in my hand, but the
Rice cracker's long gone.

Seventeen syllables, No. 70

That is not the wind:
Wind can't make concrete walls sway
Like breeze-blown curtains.

Tamago

Yes. Now I can sleep.

Seventeen syllables, No. 69

Clicks to my thumb say
That the camera is now
Both empty and full.

That's all she wrote

Well, look at what we have here... a full set of 17-syllable verses. The work now begins on the rest of the book.

I am enjoying a spurt in creativity and productivity. I don't know why. Today in Foundations class one of my classmates presented a proof of the law of cosines, and before that the professor told us to ask one question after the presentation. After the proof was done, I asked, "OK, so I can see a squared, b squared, and c squared, but can you show me negative two a b cosine theta?" Everyone stopped, and my friend was not able to answer, and then the professor asked me if I could construct it. When I paused, they moved on to a more interesting question. I, however, continued to be intrigued, and I have been working on getting the answer to my own question until now, almost a half day later.

This inspiration could not have come at a more opportune time... there are only two weeks left in classes at Colleague, and I am once again riding the cutting edges of my grades, I am sure.

Thanks for reading.

Song in my head: Queen, "Love of My Life".

Seventeen syllables, No. 68

I smell the droplets
Threatening to rain down like
The words to new songs.

Seventeen syllables, No. 67

Morning news flutters
Into my unfurling head:
Black news, radio wings.

The case of the advanced alarm clock

I don't remember whether I've already mentioned this, but I have an alarm clock that sets itself to Daylight Saving Time whenever the time comes for it to do so... in the US Mainland. Living in the Plantation means never having to worry that you have to "spring forward and fall back," but that is precisely the predicament I find myself in.

But it's a testament to how busy I've been (or how much time I've wasted) that I just now realized that I've been getting up an hour earlier than usual. I know this because there's a discrepancy between my alarm clock and a Mickey Mouse mechanical clock somewhere on my wall. And yet I don't save any time at all, I find: usually I fall right back asleep.

At least I only have two more seventeen-syllable entries to go.

Thanks for reading.

Song in my head: Jim Brickman, Michelle Wright, "Your Love".

Seventeen syllables, No. 66

The cloud-wrapped Moon looks
Like the sound my bedroom makes
When I fall asleep.

Seventeen syllables, No. 65

Artificially
Quick winds blow my hair when I
Roll my windows down.

Seventeen syllables, No. 64

Somewhere behind these
Yellowed pages, the almost
Forgotten songs wait.

Seventeen syllables, No. 63

It's just as if the
Skater outside grinds on the
Pavement of my ears.

Noodle soup

I haven't been sick in a long time.

Then again, the last time I said that was much, much less than a year ago. Perhaps the correct thing to say is that I am not likely to remember the last time I was sick. That could be a blessing in itself, couldn't it? ^_^

The semester is winding down. It goes by fast when you aren't minding it... or if you're forever trying to catch up.

Oh, well. That's what next semester is for.

Thanks for reading.

Song in my head: Jordin Sparks, feat. Chris Brown, "No Air".

Seventeen syllables, No. 62

If you were a boat,
I would rather be your sail
Than be your anchor.

The Hexadecimal Half-dozen

This weekend I once again did something that I've never done before. I took some cats to a recent sterilization clinic, where the cats were spayed and neutered.

Since I was a child I have been aware of cats who haunt our house (in the Philippines) near dinnertime, who have heard the sound of metal on ceramic (the stray cat signal for "food"). We have never kept any cats in the house. So when I saw American movies and TV shows where the pets were kept inside the house, it made me think. I was pretty sure that the cats who frequented the back area of our house in the Philippines were my pets, but according to my Western sensibilities (which I back then considered foreign) they weren't. So I reached a tacit compromise: I'd call them my pets, but I refrained from giving them names.

So now we come to last week, where I am standing in the middle of an animal clinic where Guam Animals in Need was holding a sterilization campaign, with six clipboards in hand, and the same number of kittens in a box. All six clipboards are asking for a Pet Name.

The next time I saw them I understood the difference between the cats that hung around our house in the Philippines and these cats.

These cats are my pets.

Sorry for never coming up with names for you all, but hopefully you like the ones I gave you.

Alice, Belle, Calvin, Dale, Eleanor, Felice.

Thanks for reading.

Song in my head: Taylor Swift, "Our Song".

Seventeen syllables, No. 61

Your facemask balloons
As you laugh—I forget the
Metal in my mouth.

Seventeen syllables, No. 60

The cool breeze, like a
Guitarist, strums on quiet
Waves, playing splash-chords.

Seventeen syllables, No. 59

The shadows of three
Doves fly across the early
Morning asphalt sky.

Seventeen syllables, No. 58

The Sun, unmuffled
By clouds, and chirping birds sing
Outside my headphones.

Ten more to go...

Seventeen syllables, No. 57

Above, the full Moon
On my shoulders makes my shirt
Glow even bluer.

Some space station windows...

Song in my head: Miley Cyrus, "See You Again."

Seventeen syllables, No. 56

The pickup-hitched boat
Sails, leaving a rainwater
Wake on black concrete.

Automotive jungle

Just came from work, and finally had lunch at the Outlets. To me, then, at least, it is weird to come upon such a packed food court.

I value the stability that having a job (maybe I should say jobs) gives me. Fact is, yesterday I was finally able to buy all my books for all my classes. ^_^ It keeps me busy, so that I don't have to be alone with my thoughts all the time, which historically is not the best thing for me anyway. I truly believe that it's a blessing from God that I'm able to do both the things I love to do and the things I have to do.

The last day to voluntarily withdraw from Colleague was yesterday. That means I'm stuck with these classes!

I'm excited that three of my side projects are nearing completion. Hopefully all goes well. I think I have 13 haiku left to write. So here's to getting things done. In contrast, I haven't walked all week... I have to do something about that. Maybe tonight.

Thanks for reading.

Song in my head: Kenny Loggins, "For the First Time". I have to play this in front of some discriminating executives. Hope it goes well.

Seventeen syllables, No. 55

In a speeding truck,
The cool, fenced jungle night scent
Is just one breath long.

Seventeen syllables, No. 54

A flash--The palm tree
Reappears after sunset--
A cutout from black.

Seventeen syllables, No. 53

What's so heavy? The
Camera in my pocket
Holds recorded sand.

Ypao-Matapang walkabout

I know, I know, I shouldn't use a sacred word such as "walkabout" to describe such a commonplace walk through two beaches. But then again, the point is that until now it has not been commonplace.

As I was walking back to my vehicle after having snapped some pictures of the beach, I contemplated on why photography is an art. My first reaction was, "Good question." I decided that songwriting is less like writing than it is like picture taking; songwriters don't go to the songs, the songs come to them. Then the songwriter decides whether that song idea, like a certain unposed composition in a picture, is worth writing about. If that happens, then, well, you have a song. ^_^

Then, I realized that we dwellers of this century have actually put photography in a sort of double-standard: we maintain that the camera does not lie, but then turn around and beg and coax it to tell the truth the way we see it.

I told Jesse yesterday that love is a uniquely human construct partly because it draws its justification from another uniquely human construct: the awareness of our own mortality. However, when I was telling this to him, I still did not have it worked out fully. When I was driving around this morning the answer suddenly came to me, and now I can't wait to put it down on some paper.

Thanks for reading.

Song in my head: The Frames, "Pavement Tune".

P.S. Check out some pictures from my walkabout at
http://www.flickr.com/photos/mathwizard/tags/fffff

So it's like chess, but it's in space...

I'm finally putting the finishing touches to my board game, and now I'm trying to get the word out as much as I can, so much so that I'm even telling my students at hte Stairwell about it. It's kind of crazy; this is one of the first side-projects that is finally coming to fruition! I wonder what the public would think of it.

I'm glad I'm getting a lot of hours at work, but there's got to be a point when you say, "Enough." I don't know when that time is.

This year is already turning out to be a turning point of sorts; finally I can see the light at the end of the tunnel. I know I haven't been digging, but there are times when I can afford to catch my breath. Now if only I can be a lot better with my time... ^_^

Thank you for reading.

Song in my head: Death Cab for Cutie, "I Will Follow You Into the Dark".

Seventeen syllables, No. 52

"How do you know it
Was real?" Sigh, pause. "Because
It hurt when she left."

Happy Valentine's Day, everyone. ^_^

Seventeen syllables, No. 51

At the hallway, the
Child chases the rolling coin
A little early.

All right, on to the Winter ones. One more season to go. ^_^

The flow of communication

You know, you would think that I've already learned from my mistakes. Apparently not. I kind of wrote some things that maybe it was not a good idea to say in my email correspondence with one of my dear friends. The question to me was innocent enough: "What about you?" referring to how I am doing romantically.

Maybe I should have just lied and said that I was fine with being single. Maybe. But instead I launched into a tirade that probably should never have happened. I think what I did that day was I complained about the right things but to the wrong person. After all, what power did she have to correct my situation? I should not have relied on her to fix my problems for me. I should always be the one to do that.

So here I am waiting in electronic silence, not really knowing just what effect my words have had on my friend. I hope she sees this and realizes the regret that now accompanies my previous communication. I hope that she understands.

It really shows how little I have learned in the past year. Maybe this year will be better.

In other news, I'm overwhelmed with students at the Stairwell, but I guess that it is favorable that the learning center is seeing a lot of business, not the least in the aspect of my paycheck... ^_^ It will soon need to expand, though... for the sake of all students involved.

Song in my head: James Taylor, "Fire and Rain".

Seventeen syllables, No. 50

One single petal
Lies unswept in the corner
Of the white chapel.

Seventeen syllables, No. 49

Streetlight paints the tree
Yellow above, black beneath;
Excess drips on grass.

Shuteye

Never would I have thought that I would be so tired that I actually feel like I deserve the sleep I'm about to get.

Good night, everyone.

Song in my head: One Republic, "Apologize".

Seventeen syllables, No. 48

Non-cold water is
Unthinkable beneath this
Mealy, hardtack Sun.

Seventeen syllables, No. 47

In my hands, a small
Piece of shimmering ocean
Like pink notepaper.

Illuminate the "no"s on their vacancy signs

My room is a mess, but curiously there seems to be more space in it than there was yesterday. In the morning I met up with the other Imaginary Friends, and after a walk on the beach, we kind of regrouped as a band. It was nice to be together, in one piece there, sitting on the sand and trading stories and tunes. (For his part, Jesse recommended me a really good "imo"-message song by DCFC that we can cover, and Elmo helped me with the old-school island jams.)

I think that the biggest thing I have to remedy for this year is the impression people seem to get that I am not willing to be as helpful as it is possible for me to be. I really thought that over the years my personal feeling of responsibility towards the groups the belong to--most importantly my family--has grown in leaps and bounds; however, when I attempt to extrapolate what others think of me, I always seem to fall short. I don't mind being labelled as a "dreamer"--really, I actually like the ring of that. ^_^ But if with it comes the conclusion that "this guy just doesn't care for such and such thing that he belongs to," well, I'm going to have to correct that.

It must be true, then, that ability is not the last thing about an assigned task. It's the follow-through, or the final implementation.

The calendar I bought myself in the beginning of the year is really helping me focus on what needs to be done. I am glad I am getting into the habit of looking in it and writing things down on it. With a (qualitatively) heavy semester ahead of me, I will need every advantage I can muster.

Wish me luck. And in exchange, I wish you luck during the semester.

Thanks for reading.

Song in my head: Andrew Gold, "Never Let Her Slip Away". Oh, and the title-line reference will be the next entry's headsong. Watch out for it.

Somewhere in the darkness

I don't know what it was about where I slept (or at least tried to sleep ^_^) yesterday. It was a velvety dark and warmly gloomy night (whatever that means...) as I sat within view of the sea. Sometimes when the wind whipped up the right way, I was even able to smell it. The white tops of the waves were small but it was due to distance. It was so peaceful, bordering on the eerie, actually.

And I was ready. I had a guitar and some paper to write on.

About two hours later, I woke up with a start. I looked up from where I sat. The night was still as dark, and the division between sea and sky remained shrouded. But now there was a completed song on a piece of paper, and another almost done. It was a moment: I haven't written anything in verse for the longest time, and for me to be able to come up with these songs kind of confirms me in a significant way this year.

Soon I'll type them out and store them somewhere safe. I hope my bandmates receive these songs warmly, at least.

Thank you very much for reading.

Song in my head: Leann Rimes, "But I Do Love You".

Speed test

Sometimes, it's not the speed at which you get things done; it's the actual things themselves that you get done. Today is a classic example of such an axiom: out of the six things I wanted to do today in terms of "errands", I was only able to do 3. Poor planning contributed to the noncompletion of the other three. All I can say is, I have my work cut out for me if I want to succeed in reorganizing.

In better news, it looks like a good semester, and the wind comes into my Plantation bedroom with the crisp coldness that it always greets me with. I don't know how much power consumption I now save by not running my airconditioner (I have lost count, having done it for almost a year now), but I have to say that it's one of the first lifestyle changes I was successful in doing. Now my airconditioner is on as an exception, not as a rule.

I almost cannot wait for the semester to begin. Almost. ^_^

I heard from my Chinese penpal today, via email. I was happy about that, but it entailed poring over the online Chinese Dictionary in order to decode much of what she said. Or maybe that's a good thing? ^_^ All I know is, I'm getting rusty at this! I'll need to practice more.

OK, that's it for me. 謝謝你閱我的網誌!

Song in my head: Yes, "Owner of a Lonely Heart". Now this one really was in my head all weekend!

And before I forget, I'd like to invite you to take a speed test of your own, which was the inspiration for the title, anyway. Are you really getting broadband throughput rates? (No, it's not a scam... ^_^)

High resolution

I was conversing with Kim tonight, mainly on nothing at all, when she asked me whether I made any resolutions this year. It gave me pause, but when I was ready to answer her I found that she has gone offline. The answer still fresh in my head, I have decided to instead respond on this public forum.

The reason I haven't made any New Year's Resolutions in the past years is simply that I felt that I have not had the wherewithal to stick with them through the entire year. It was quite an unfortunate time I had last year, having bad things happen, but more importantly than that, I very often felt sorry for myself last year. I could not even fathom any self-improvement at the time. My healing leg prevented me from accomplishing many of the things I hoped to do in 2007. And my deflated self-esteem made me unable to do much else after that.

You shouldn't get the impression that I was depressed. I don't think I was ever depressed in the last year; I was merely severely limited, I should say.

But I did make--and keep--a resolution back in 2007. I resolved to keep the wrapper to every double cheeseburger from McDonald's I ate last year. Sure, it was both meaningless and pointlessly stupid, but the point was that it was easy. And sure enough I was able to carry it through the whole year. I will count the wrappers tomorrow.

And I guess I am making a resolution for 2008 as well, and it is thus: Whenever I can do more than one thing, I resolve to do the more useful and beneficial things first. I purposefully left it a little vague so that I can interpret for myself what it means for something to be useful and beneficial. This year I want to finally stanch the horrible gash in my side wherein I leak copious amounts of perfectly good time. I've had this for years now, but I believe that it is not yet too late to correct myself.

One of the priests (I cannot remember who anymore) said last year around this time, "The difference between a wish and a resolution is that a resolution is both sensible and possible to achieve." I only got one resolution, but I recognize it as a real resolution, one that would undoubtedly be difficult to carry out (heck, I'm breaking it right now; I could be sleeping! ^_^) but something I can certainly hope to achieve this year.

What about you? Any resolutions from out there?

Thank you very much for reading.

Song in my head: Ambrosia, "Biggest Part of Me". A really hopeful song, which I hope reflects my outlook this year.

Seventeen syllables, No. 46

Yesterday, the first
Pages of my calendar
Were dry and curled up.

Happy New Year

Happy new year to all of you out there.

I write this in the Plantation, hours after the family and I return from Seaside where the big fireworks display happens customarily. This is the first year we are able to capture the event on video, and there we were, our hard disk camcorder pointed fastidiously upward, as we shared in the yells and other racket in front of the old Ypao Beach Store (now a restaurant).

I am tired. Now that in itself is not unusual; I find that my most hectic time of year is the Advent/Christmas season. Music is in full demand during the proceedings of these holidays. But now I'm more tired than I was last year. I conked out after only one Carolling night, and the only reason I was able to show up for the fourth night was that I left the house with that express purpose. And now as I write this I have a slight pounding in my head, which tells me that I should end this post right quick and get some sleep.

Earlier in the week I was finally able to write some Christmas cards to my far-flung friends. I wanted to start some sort of tradition with myself, as a way of remortaring and strengthening those paper bridges I built (and perhaps to start some new ones). I don't know. Half the people I invited never came forward with their snail mail addresses, which says two things about our current culture. One, why mail it out when you can email/MySpace/Friendster/Txt it? Gone are the magic of the closed envelope and the expectation of the carefully-written word inside. Two, the Internet is rife with people we do not know who want to get to know us so that they can take our money. Perhaps they erred on the side of caution and took me for one of these schemers.

It doesn't matter, really. I'm not sure whether my handwriting is widely readable, anyway. If anything else my Holiday wishes should shine through as clearly as a bell, in 10pt Verdana/Arial/Georgia font on a glaring computer screen in the dead of winter. Right?

Hopefully.

So, in wishes expressed most clearly by the style sheet applied by your browser of choice, Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays, and have a safe and hopeful New Year.

I for one am partied out. I screamed my heart out Seaside as the incendiary blasts pounded in my chest. I shall go get some sleep in my Moon-chilled room in the Plantation.

Thank you very much for reading.

Song in my head: Tom Jones, "It's Not Unusual". What a catchy song! Gets the job done in less than two minutes.