These are the entries under the category » 2004 » December
I just had to come out of semi-hiatus to lend my support (however insignificant) to arbitrator Roger Kaplan’s decision to cut suspended Pacer Jermaine O’Neal’s suspension to fifteen (15) games, making him eligible for the Christmas day rematch between the Detroit Pistons and the Indiana Pacers.
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I’ll be going home for the holidays, and may not touch another computer till I get back, which will be next year. To keep those pesky spammers away, I’ve set comment moderation on, sorry for the inconvenience.
Some people reported problems with the skins, and and some haven’t. Anyway, the skins are: Core Style or Minimalist. You can also opt not to use a skin. Ugly tho
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I remember watching some feel-good movie - doesn’t matter which one, they’re all the same. You know, the kind that ends with happily ever after. The kind everybody wants to happen to them. So, anyway, I was watching this piece of crap, because, well, I was feeling poignant and melancholy at the time, and, ironically, the whole concept struck me as somewhat depressing, and it had nothing to do with my mood. No, I just saw through the underlying plot of these movies… they all hinge on the concept of fate.
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As Christmases go, I can’t wait for this one to. I don’t wonder why people aren’t exuding that holiday cheer I’ve always reeked of when the “-ber” months come around. The general sentiment I feel as 2004 comes to a close (and not a moment too soon) is one of “just let me get through another day, please.”
But enough of the negative vibes. From me, anyway. 2004 was also the year we finally got our band’s shit together and started playing more or less regularly, I met and actually had a relationship with her (for a too-short amount of time), found meaningful work, and made several good friends at the office. Never mind what happened after; the memories should be enough, for this ghost of Christmas’ past.
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Few things could make me want to start pulling out my hair like my friends. Bar none, they are obnoxious, arrogant, self-centered and all-too-often opinionated. They are also supportive, non-judgemental and always ready to help. Typical, I’d think.
But — and I haven’t stopped asking myself this since… July? — the question is: are they worth it?
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Color me curious, but why the hypocrisy all of a sudden? Yes, including my own. Because, frankly, I’m rather sad that he’s dead.
After all, that makes him the second icon in as many weeks to pass away. Who’s next? Michael Jackson?
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Crusaders against domestic violence claimed that out of ten Filipina wives, six are “battered wives.” It’s not a very comforting statistic, and it actually took me by surprise; while I knew the Philippines does have a fair amount of culture bias against women, I never realized that domestic violence could be so prevalent. After all, six out of every ten women that I’ve ever known are strong-willed, opinionated and very much in control, and being under-da-saya is something that I’m rather familiar with
As I saw it, the culture bias at home did not exist: women were just as likely to hurt their men emotionally and psychologically as men. The issue didn’t concern me, or my friends. It’s too far away, it would never happen to us.
Or so I thought.
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It wasn’t fair, what you did. It wasn’t about who’s more important, it was about helping a friend at risk, and there shouldn’t have been an argument about it in the first place. You could have let it go. You could have taken the time to understand the situation. And you could have helped.
I know you won’t talk to me, that’s why I’m putting my words on-line, hoping that when you come across this post, you’ll somehow stop and think for a moment. Why I had to help, and why your all-too-sudden urge to go shopping wasn’t the really all that important at the time.
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Ihoped, like people who know better hope for undeserved blessings. You did more than just read my blog, you brought with you the sunshine I’ve been yearning for in this smog-infested, unrewarding life I call mine: the phone rang, and it was you. The doorbell buzzed, and it was you.
This means Poodle will just have to bear with me groping in semi-blindness on my quest for the light switch, tripping over the telephone cord and other loud noises I make in my half-asleep state. Because you called. And all is right in the world.
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Ok, laugh later, but I swear I didn’t know Kitchie Nadal used to front Mojofly. I was always like “wow, she just came out of nowhere!” I’m bad with faces, I know. And names. And birthdays. And phone numbers. Doesn’t matter
Markku did a lot of us a favor by posting the lyrics and chords to the song “Wag na wag mong sasabihin”, and if you haven’t heard it or hummed to it, you’re more out of touch than I am. It’s a very cute and catchy song — catchy enough that someone who’s not so much into pop-rock (like me) starts to sing along. Sometimes. Ok, everytime I hear it. Dammet, nasira ang pagka metalista ko!
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