Miracle

So, here is what has been keeping me busy the past couple of months. Let me introduce you to Téa Villalon (pronounced Tey'-ah). She's three days old and a bundle of joy. Born on the 10th of January, she actually wanted to join the party a month earlier but that just wouldn't have worked. :-)

We took her home yesterday and are in the process of settling in. Her manang Ada is very curious about her, yet she is so tremendously gentle when she is around.

Conversation with two friends who I happily bumped into the day after Téa was born:

"You know, I was worried that I would not be able to love another child as much as I love Ada. But when the nurse put Téa in my arms, I got it then and there.", I said.

"Yeah dude, love's not a bucket, it's an endless ocean (sic).", said D.C.

The Glory of Bidding (or, why ebay should be deemed morally reprehensible by the Church)

So Paypal now allows transactions for buyers from the Philippines.

With this development driven by laissez faire market forces, folks from the good 'ol P.I. are now free to bid with (reasonable) confidence at the glamorous online palengke mecca known as ebay. Having checked my trepidation at the door, I dusted off my long hibernating ebay account and proceeded to link it with my newly minted Paypal account.














This actually took more time than I thought as Paypal requires that one validates a credit card by competing a transaction with them first, which is then reversed during the first use of the account. So after a couple of days of waiting, I was finally able to place some bids on Saturday afternoon.

And bid I did.

And did.

And did.

And did.

And did I bid.

36 hours later...

I'm a certified auction junkie! For all of you out there who have experienced the thrill of seeing a bid go green, or felt the unbridled shock and panic of a deal turn red with 5 minutes to go before closing, you know exactly what I'm talking about. My hands are shaking from lack of sleep, I'm frazzled from watching multiple bids, and am cursing at people with names like hotdiggedy78, urbestglfr and dallasplayer.

It's unusual behavior, it's not gentlemanly in any way, and I can't stop doing it!

On Golf

Back in 2004, after not touching my golf clubs in five years, I pulled them out of mothballs, brimming with hope and excited to feel the morning mist upon my face as the waking sun gently warmed the well manicured fairways of the course I was to play. Predictably, I then promptly played my worst round of golf since college and immediately banished my golf bag to dark storage. I thought, that was that. Embarrass me once, shame on you; twice, shame on me.

Now, three years later, and against my better judgment, I find myself strangely drawn to that siren's call once more. I've been going to the range religiously for the past two months and am actually seeing a pro to contribute to my swing (note: my pro is awesome, so if anyone out there wants to learn from one of the best in Manila, drop me a note). My game still isn't pretty, but I'm convinced that I will be one of the best.

Which brings me to my next point -- I am declaring that my handicap will be below 10 by August next year. To put that into perspective, that would be the equivalent of training to complete a full Ironman Triathlon, or developing the stamina to walk from Isabela to Cebu, or practicing hard enough to hit twenty half-court shots in a row.

Absurd? Just a little. Doable? You becha!

So if you're looking for a golfing buddy, or you want to give it a try -- come on over!

Rebirth

So...

After months of inactivity I am revisiting my blog, and establishing a new Sunday morning habit -- my weekly post.

So to get the juices flowing I am listing all of my personal projects down and commit to discuss them at length in the weeks to come. :-)

0. Family!
1. Design Firm -- Creating the best Interactive Experience
2. Lizbeck
3. Baseball Philippines
4. My golfing aspirations
5. Podcasting (2 Guys and a Mic - the other guy being Pepper F.)
6. Futsal Philippines

*Note to world -- the Philippines rocks!

Pride

[WARNING: LONG POST ]
The question I have the most difficulty answering is, "Where did you graduate from?"

In Manila, there are a handful of elite universities that command the most respect. They are, in no particular order, The School on a Hill, The Parking Challenge, and the Home of the Naked Runners. Of course, there are other institutions of favorable repute, but the past few decades have seen these three emerge as the academic heavy weights.

Needless to say, alumni of the three are held in very high regard; while those who were accepted but politely declined continuance are often frowned upon and generally pointed out to young children in a manner akin to the biblical treatment of lepers.

Now, while the leper reference may seem to be a little harsh I'll vouch for the veracity. Because I am one such leper.

I am one of the unfortunates who squandered the opportunity to avail of the best academic facilities in the country, learn from the sharpest minds in the field, and graduate with the future leaders of our soon-to-be-proud-again nation. I am one of the fools who spent his future inheritance in malls, bars and dark corners while the others squeezed the marrow out of their university experience.

I barely felt my fall from grace -- too numb from abusing myself and too secluded in arrogance to admit my foolhardiness. When I finally stirred from my proud haze, I was sitting in a dimly lit classroom in a foreign campus while a strange professor explained Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs in front of the class, a freshman in a fifth-choice institution.

So while my batchmates had joined the corporate game and were moving up the ladder, the only mobility I experienced was the commute to and from my new school. I was starting from scratch, my self-worth was shattered, and I had three more years of studying ahead of me. And Lord help me, I did actually study for those three years.

Channeling a dedication I hadn't displayed since high school, I aced every test and every subject, I took full loads over summers and tried to overload every term, I also applied for reinstatement at my former university, but that was a shot at the moon and I knew it from the start. I did odd jobs to earn some spending money -- technical writing, stock market analysis, even internships at law offices, anything to scrape some experience together. I was so focused that a lump of coal would have been crushed into a diamond had I stared at it long enough. I was so determined that I took on a full time job as a software engineer during my graduating term while I completed my thesis.

And after seven years, one ex-girlfriend, and thousands of kilometers traveled to and from schools I finally got my degree.

Three months later a multinational invited me to apply for a Systems Analyst position and fortunately I've steadily risen through the ranks from that starting point.

So where did I graduate from? Not from the hill, not from the home of the naked run, but rather from the humble institution that sits across the parking challenge. I graduated from The College of St.Benilde. My only shame is that it took me this long to say it.

Pressure

It weighs upon me like a leaden shirt, pulling me ever so slowly into the vile pit.

Succumb, it cajoles. Snickering and sneering like every bad experience, wretched encounter and wicked failure all rolled into one. I ignore it, and it has me where it wants me.

Fall, it commands. I struggle to shed it from my person, but it clings determinedly. I clutch at the tightening collar around my neck, but it persists -- and I am bound. I fight it, and it toys with me most cruelly.

Surrender, it proclaims. And I cannot refuse, for my being is crushed by its thunderous mass and I fall to my knees.

I acknowledge it, and I am myself again.

I didn't know it was lost until I started looking for it...

I love books.

I love the way the pages slide off my fingertips when I turn a page. I love the glossy, matte, embossed, colorful, sparse, chaotic, ordered manifestations of their covers. I love curling up on my sofa to learn, understand, escape, enlighten, experience.

Unfortunately, my hoarding instinct normally gets the better of me and my bookshelf groans under the weight of unread literature.

Needless to say, it is a momentous occasion when I finally seek out one of the Forgotten.

So when I decided to finish reading Lugar, I was mortified to find that it could not be found. Oh the perils of procrastination.

Now here I sit, eager and unfulfilled. Waiting for replies to the text messages I send out in a desperate attempt to find the person who I'd loaned the book to.

I thing the book is trying to teach me a lesson...