Red and Gray

It’s a rainy day this Valentine’s Day.

I’m slumped in an old bench on the far side of the hall, watching the gray rain-clouds pummel the park outside into submission. Filtered gray sunlight reflects from the cracked marble tiles on the floor, and it creates an eerie haze that lulls my eyes into sleep. I sink even further into the bench, lowered the cap over my head, and tried to doze off the rest of the morning.

On the far right from where I’m sitting there’s a sign taped on the window of our office. It’s an advertisement for an all-you-can-eat “Valentine Buffet” at a local hotel, promising not only a bottomless dinner plate but also a chance to win a night’s stay in a jacuzzi in the accompanying raffle. One of the office staff must have posted it as a gag, as we were more likely to find ourselves taking post in the frosty confines of the Centre than in a warm candle-lit honeymoon suite tonight.

But past the four glass walls of the office, Valentine’s Day is no laughing matter. Just this morning I woke up to a radio station giving away free horoscope-based compatibility tests, with one of the “experts” dismissing a caller as stingy because her name starts with M. And while passing by the high school on the way to work, I saw vendors hawking roses, heart balloons, and other Valentine gifts outside the school’s gates, providing convenience (and cashing in) to the bold hearts of the young. There’s really no escaping it really, but if you were romantic, you’d find it rather sweet. But if you were bitter, you’d find it sickening. But I’m neither, with just a bit of both. Which in turn would probably explain why I’m going nowhere with this Valentines thing.

After 15 minutes of trying, I still couldn’t sleep. I straightened on the bench, stretched my arms forward, got up and headed back into the office. I’ll get myself in trouble if I got caught slacking off on the job, even if there is none to do at the moment. I gripped the knob on the door and swung it open, hoping to salvage what’s left of my Valentine’s Day.

Going home after visiting Richard in Panal

You've got to be kidding me.

Endless needles of rain sting my face as we crossed the vast expanse of the empty highway, further increasing my body's sensitivity to the biting cold. I try and stop from shuddering, fearing that any sudden movement might cause Vhann's motorbike to go out of control on the slippery asphalt.

It's probably one of the worst places I've ever found myself in: getting pelted with rain while riding a bike in the countryside at 9 in the evening. Plus the fact that there's no one within a hundred meters from us further complicates things. But then, nobody in his right mind (with the exception of two scrawny post-adolescent geeks) would go out in this forsaken hour, as the freezing wind and rain have almost completely shut down the city.

It's been like this since the start of February: endless cold coupled with endless rain. It's as if the entire Arctic Ocean was redirected to our tropical hamlet, with no signs of receding any time soon. Its stark contrast to the fact that summer is only two months away. That is, if there will still be a summer. If what the people back at the Centre are saying is true, then this whole crazy weather is due to global warming, which could further explain why the rain falling over our heads seems like it came from a glacier. But maybe I'm just over-reacting. It just feels too obvious for all of this to happen only a year after "An Inconvenient Truth" went onscreen and Al Gore got his nod at the Nobel. Maybe it is just a coincidence. Or maybe not. But if that should be the case I'll be damned if I ditch the bike in the middle of nowhere just to cut down on my carbon footprint. Our house already has enough fluorescent bulbs to compensate for the moment, thank you.

Nevertheless, you also start to fear, not only because of the strange weather but also because you are in the middle of a strange place. Proper civilization is only a few kilometers away, but the darkness and the emptiness surrounding us gives no hint whatsoever of our progress. And of all places to be you get an epiphany: that in the midst of all your accomplishments, you are still just a warm tiny speck in the ginormous void of a cold unforgiving universe.

It only took 15 minutes to get back to the city's core and for Vhann to drop me off at the tricycle stop home. There weren’t enough passengers for the tricycle to leave yet, so I decided to go to the nearest convenience store and grab something to drink. And while I chuckle at the subtle irony of it, the raindrops keep falling, oblivious to the endless ramblings which this and the hundred more souls that huddle for warmth in its domain.

I've got a headache. And it goes by the name of Pain.

Note to self: never sniff pencil shavings.

Because Breathing is Less Important than not being It

I'm never really good with the game of tag. Anything that involves running or vigorous activity in a prolonged period of time automatically gets shelved into my "Dislikes" folder. And so when I find myself tagged by Ruthie one day, I was a bit alarmed as I was flattered. But then again, I've already been creeping people out with answers to similar lists below in the Friendster bulletins, so:

5 Things Found in my Bag

• Red Thermos Mug.
• My old (i.e. haven't lost it yet) FILA Baseball Cap.
• A gel-based sign pen.
• Some strange stuff that's been inside for years that'll probably bite me if I touch it.
• Deodorant.

5 Things Found in my Wallet

• Money.
• A sky blue Kingston USB Mass Storage Device.
• Empty ATM Cards.
• My Social Security card.
• Old slips of paper from as far back as college.

5 Things Found in my Room

• Porn. (hahaha just kidding. Reformed na ata 'to!)
• Cluttered computer desk.
• Woozie, my long-suffering yet ever-trusty Sempron rig.
• Bed with extra-large pillows.
• Books leaning against empty boxes of Gundam model kits.

5 Things I’ve Always Wanted To Do

• Drive a tank in the highway during rush hour (wahaha!).
• Take a nap in Norway.
• Hot-wire Dreamweaver and Flash.
• Get drunk at a bar with Gordon Freeman and Barney Calhoun .
• Meet God without dying first.

5 Things I am Currently Into

• Trying to be a Christian.
• Messing around with Photoshop.
• Making press releases and other paperwork for the Centre for Initiatives and Research on Climate Change.
• Chatting with Ruth, Arcee, and other friends online.
• Sleeping.

5 People to Tag on this Meme

• Her.
• Him.
• F.
• J.
• You.

Eight

It was already half past eight when I got out of the office door. There are no more eateries open at that hour, so I’ll have to pass by the corner noodle shop for dinner. I’m not really that hungry anyway. Just tired.

It’s probably the only thing that I didn’t like about my job: the overtime. The working hours of the Centre is from 8 to 5, but the staff rarely closes shop earlier than 7 in the evening. Ate Carol, the spry Administrative Assistant of the Centre, said that there are even sleeping bags stored aside for those extra special times that we have to literally sleep over the work.

But I really can’t complain about it though. Aside from a few official letters I had to write for the day, there’s pretty much nothing else for a Communication Officer like me to do. And we really can’t say no to the Director of the General Services, who rushed to our office to get help for his slideshow which was due the next day. He even bought us some pizza to make up for the trouble, which probably is the reason why I’m still not hungry.

And as I walk past the bright lights shining down from the lampposts lining the sidewalk, I wonder how long this is going to last: to find myself walking in the middle of the night, going to a future as uncertain as the hour I can go home from work.

A Screencap of My So-Called Digital Life

This is actually a rather old project of mine, sort of a tribute to the late(?) legendary Sannin whose daring feats of manliness has been a pillar of inspiration for testosterone-fueled men everywhere. Excelsior!

EDIT: Yes, yes, I admit. I listen to Cueshe. Every man has his moment of weakness too you know...

Because Whiteboards don't make good Pillows

My hands are freezing.

The skin on my palms has turned ghost-white, and a numb ache starts to sear on the joints on my fingers as I punch in the keys. Guess that makes me a candidate for arthritis in the future then, although right now I’m more preoccupied with the current irony of my hands turning into popsicles while there’s a blazing-hot afternoon raging outside. That and I’m back at work again.

Last Friday night, Eph called and asked me if I needed a job. At any normal day I might have said no; I just got out of a job, and I’m not in a hurry to go back into another one anytime soon. Maybe it was because I was grappling with the concept of being broke again, or maybe it was the beta-blockers kicking in that made me say yes. Either way, three days later I find myself as a Creative Communications Officer for the Provincial Governor’s Environment and Eco-cultural Office. It’s probably the fastest hire that I’ve ever experienced, as I applied on Monday and went back in the game the next day. And it’s really not that hard; basically I’m just making press releases for the office to be distributed to the press. It’s really nothing I can’t handle compared to other articles I’ve made for the university paper, although they may not as critical nor as hard-hitting. And the turnout is relatively slow, with an average of one article per day. I usually get sidelined as errand boy or brochure illustrator during the downtimes, which tend to be a lot. Sometimes it even gets to a point where it’s so slow you just want to slump in the chair and doze off.

But then again, with the freezing temperatures in here that seems hardly possible.