I have a semi-stiff neck, semi because I can turn to my left but I am having difficulty turing to my right, if I do my neck feels like there's a stick that's been left stuck in there and it pokes at the muscles and it just is...a pain in the neck. I have had full stiff-necks before and it sucks, but this one today, semi-sucks. Maybe I should stop sleeping on the couch and buy me an extra bed.

The monitor looks like it could use a good rubbing, I can't understand why every morning it's filled with finger prints? Why do they have to touch the screen? Does the computer now respond to 'touch-screen' commands and no one is telling me? I have to wipe it clean with tissue paper everytime I sit and start my work because let's face it, having Amuerfina (god bless her) come over to your cubicle and wipe your dirty monitor because she's disturbed by its appearance is just too embarrassing.

I finally woke up this morning wrapped in sheets. It was cold, not 'December type cold' but if you've felt the heat for the past few days...it sure is nice to have cool weather for a change. I was on my way to work and not a sweat on my brow as the jeepney sped and weaved through early morning traffic. I got to my workplace and I felt a little dampness on my shirt, but it's nothing to be alarmed...why? Because it's cold. I have a stiff-neck but do I feel pissed...a bit but it's no big deal, you wanna know why? Because it's nippy today.

No books for today, no books to make that is so if it stays this way all day I might be blogging until my fingers bleed. Of course I'm being sarcastic. But it's just the way things go, you get bored with work and you wish you could just goof off all the time but when there's nothing to do and you've been sitting on your ass for almost 8 hours...you tend to miss work.

Not that I'm missing it right now...ehe he.

Jacob at 1 month and 8 days. For more pictures, go to this page. 

 If you want to know where it all began...the golden age of skateboarding. You should definitely see Lords of Dogtown...I know I will.

My father's birthday passed without so much fanfare yesterday. Aside from the greetings from us and some relatives, I guess that was it. In all his 59 years he's never really had a party per se, and yesterday was no exception. I don't know why but it's been that way ever since I can remember. We tried to give him parties before but he'll just say why bother and say that all he wants is for us to be together and for him to spend his birthday in a quiet way...to spend that day with us rather than with a bunch of people.

It's nice to see him these days come home early just to spend time with his grandson. It's been a while since I heard him laugh or seen him smile, but to see him watch over his 'apo' and just burst into laughter everytime Jacob does something cute is like music to my ears.

The man has been through a lot, from his childhood, growing up through hard times hopping from one province to another as a son of an army captain, to the hardships we've had as a family, to where he is now and managing all of these on his own, is a tough act to follow. I can only hope to be half as strong a person as he is.

I know it's cliche but any kid would be lucky to have him as a father. He's a great father. I won't say perfect but he's pretty damn close and I've learned so much from him. We may be 2 different people but I owe a great deal to who and what I am now to my father.

I know he won't be able to read this but to my father Happy Birthday and thank you for everything. 

Last weekend I spent the better part of Saturday cleaning our room. Dusting shelves and cabinets, disinfecting every nook and cranny, if it were possible I'd boil the shit out of that room. In between wiping dust off of picture frames I noticed the sorry state of my cassette tape collection. I really never got to collecting CD's...they're too damn expensive and there's this certain amount of sentimental value attached to cassette tapes, well for me that is. Looking at the stack, a pathetic excuse for a 'collection' my heart sank. It is now a mere shadow of what it once was, a shell of its former glory...back in the day they numbered in the hundreds.

Back in high school a few friends and I had this sort of silent agreement, to eat only banana-ques, Skyflakes crackers and Coke or maybe a sandwich or just bring 'baon' from home just to save lunch money and come the weekend we'd go to a place called Primrose in the downtown area to blow what money we had saved for the week on tapes. Tapes back then were cheap, some started at around P45; the last time I bought a casette tape it was then P120 which beats any CD.

Thinking back now, I can't remember ever asking money from my parents to buy tapes. Maybe that's why my mother never gave me shit about my collecting them...hmmm.

Primrose was THE place if you loved music and was into collecting tapes. The salesladies knew us by then, we even had special privileges. We can ask for reservations for certain stocks, we could even order hard to find albums. Every Saturday the place would be filled with pimple-faced boys barely out of puberty

We'd swap tapes, buy and sell some among us. Some borrowed, tapes borrowed would pass on to several hands and then you'd lose track and it gets lost along the way which sucks especially if the tape holds a special place in your collection or if that tape is one in a series.

Why am I writing about this? I don't know. Maybe it's the fact that I still get the same feeling when Friday comes and I know Saturday is just a sleep away...only this time it's not tapes anymore.