BRUSH ::: Thedarith Cometh Hither

I had a great weekend, thank you very much. Last Saturday, I went to Powerbooks Greenbelt (braved the heavy rains) for David Sedaris's book signing. I expected to have a miserable afternoon, too. What with it being a pay day weekend that meant every square foot of the city would be heartily represented.

A few hundred of these turned up at my destination, clutching piles of David's books as if to say "I've been a fan when all these wannabes' parents were still virgins" whereas my two not so mint, inexpensive, handy paperbacks said "I'm glad to meet you, David!" In truth, I have only read Dress Your Family in Corduroy and have been reading nothing but that book for nearly a year now.

From where I stood at the back, I could see Jessica Zafra sitting up front. She had on her trademark cat-eye glasses which, according to her blog, had just been resurrected.

David was very amicable. He reminded me of Woody Allen both when he spoke and with his movements. He wore a white button down shirt with the sleeves rolled up and plaid shorts that revealed his hairy legs.

During the hour-long reading, he shared his musings on this visit and gave the impression that he's enjoyed it so far. He's been to quite a few places I never expected he would be. Lunch at Jollibee a few times, drinks at Hobbit House (he said it was a great idea because it changes perceptions of little people), haircut at Bruno's barbers, roughed it up at Wowowee (!) and lost all his money at a cockfight held in a "sports center". He was pretty convinced he was the only gay person in that arena, too.

He started the reading with a fable involving a cat and a baboon in a salon. Six to Eight Black Men (from Dress Your Family) was chosen because he loved Christmas and that this was our cold period. Whoever told him this must not have done a great job explaining things like climate.

David would read for more than an hour, the lengthiest among his three book signings in this stop. The crowd, a mix of Manila's literati, yuppies, soccer moms (mostly white expats), gay men, artisans, a bald goth girl, and me, laughed hysterically at the right moments and politely at the not-so-funny ones.

They followed it by having David take in questions from the audience. One woman asked if he was planning on moving to the Philippines but, unfortunately, due to David's rambling answer, I forgot what he said.

He took a couple of cigarette breaks in between signing books. Around this time, a youngish white guy arrived and proceeded to the patio where David took a breather. I could only assume it was Hugh since his name was mentioned a couple times in David's answers.

As I sat and waited, I tried to think of a good question to ask him. I even leafed through "Dress" for ideas. Then I thought about complementing his shorts. "I should get my father one like that" or just simply "I love your shorts!" I also thought about asking him to visit this blog and leave a comment just so I can brag about it.

My number was up and I walked over to his table as he greeted me with a sprightly "Hell-o!". Our short conversation went something like this:

D.S.: When you shook my hand, were you admiring this bracelet (name) gave me?

Me: Oh yeah, even from ten feet away!

D.S.: Have you been to Ice Monster?

Me: No. Then again, I'm not that much into cold snacks.

D.S.: But do you go to Jollibee?

Me: Yeah. Everybody goes to Jollibee. Especially in desperate times.

D.S.: Well, Jollibee is service with a smile! Now is it Jollibee or Jollibees?

Me: It's singular.

D.S.: OK. Now, (my name), do you have a yaya?

Me: No. (The question surprised me.)

D.S.: But do you have a driver? See, I'm trying to piece it together. If you have a super yaya then you'd have a driver. Right?

Me: Right. It follows. Hey, do you go online? (I decided I wanted to get him to comment on this blog.)

D.S.: No. I've only been on the internet a total of four times and I can never get into it. I used my friend's internet and he showed me how but I could never get the hang of it. (So much for premium advertising.)

Me: Well, you're not missing much. See ya!

It was nothing out of the ordinary. I had thought I was going to act like a raging fan but I'm just not that type of person and I'm glad about that. David Sedaris was exactly the perceptive, witty, and accommodating human being I thought he would be. Americans can rest easy.

RIGHT BRAIN ::: Sedaris is Coming

I don't need to remind anyone how freakingly awesome this will be. I mean, I LOVE David Sedaris! This was just too impossible...more so than a U2 concert in Manila. (I'll leave the Pussycat Dolls and Black Eyed Peas to you frivolous conio kids. I won't be caught dead in that kind of money pit.)

Seriously, this is just too amazing. *screams*

RIGHT BRAIN ::: GOCC Volunteering

Behold every corporate drone's worst nightmare. You know, I was told the pay was bad but did they have to put it in black and white like this?

How does your payday weekend look like? I hope you guys out there get to, at least, settle some bills. And for my credit card company, call back much later.

RIGHT BRAIN ::: Water Whirled

When I left the house for work yesterday, it was windy but not raining. Minutes later, near Ramon Revilla's walls (I say this because no one I know has ever seen the house/mansion, just white-washed walls) was when the rain poured down hard like it was going to punch holes through the roof of the vehicle I was in.

As we advanced towards the city, certain parts of the highway would be heavily drenched while others were just damp. The winds along Coastal Road were particularly scary because it was wide open on either side of the highway and the vehicle's height would make it easy to get toppled.

I got off at near Pedro Gil and saw how tall crashing waves licked the tops of the coconut trees along Baywalk. No rain though, just strong gusts of wind.

Walking to our building around the corner was like walking on ice. My shoes didn't exactly grip the wet pavement friction so I found myself tip-toeing in certain areas.

When I got to the office, I got a full view of just how bad it was.

Yesterday morning


Yesterday afternoon

Later that day, at around 2 o'clock, chismis went around that work was going to be suspended for the rest of the day. It turns out Malacañang had already ordered the suspension sometime during lunch hour, effective 12:01 PM in fact. They didn't tell us until it was almost 3 PM. It didn't matter though because the whole dang office was cleared less than 15 minutes after it was announced on the PA system.

I didn't get to leave until past 4 o'clock because I had some stuff to finish which were due for release the next morning. On the jeepney ride along MH Del Pilar, I thought things were a bit disappointing because there was neither drizzle nor flood.

Then I got to Pasay and that's when the misery started. It's as if Manila was the sanctuary and you were on your own against the elements when you cross its boundaries.

Anyway, the sky finally let loose, unloading on scurrying yokels on Harrison and Buendia. You almost felt sorry for these people. They're so used to discomfort that it's become a leisure activity. The rain just kept pouring down for an eternity.

Under the Roxas-EDSA flyover, I could see there was no way to stay dry. The jeepney stopped at a precarious spot and I hurried to the exit. These drivers get furious when they're unloading out of place. As if my life couldn't get any worse, the whole area was a river! I hopped off the estribo and into floodwater. Goodbye, cheap shoes.

I quickly skipped to where the Imus jeepneys made their U-turn and waited with the rest of the stranded folks. Again, more wind.

Two college students--from the nearby school I had attended--swaggered around laughing.

Girl 1: Parang gusto ko dun sa kabila.
Girl 2: Bakit?
Girl 1: Parang mas maganda ang tayo nila don.

The opposite side of the U-turn drive also had people waiting and looked like they were posing for a photo.

After fifteen minutes a jeepney came and folks swarmed it as soon as the barker yelled it's destination. I climbed up to the front seat knowing full well that I was going to be smudged with rain and dust when we hit the high road. Didn't care. Must get home.

Sure enough, my extremities were soaking wet minutes after we sped off. I tried propping up my umbrella to try and shield myself but it was useless, I knew it. What with it being too darn small and the metal ribs were bent out of place. I just resigned myself to the fact that I was on the final stretch home and water in my face was just a small hitch. Wouldn't you know it, when I got to Imus it had stopped raining.

I walked leisurely to our house, looked up, and wondered about the dark cloud hovering above. Seconds after, it rained and water seeped through parts of our house as if to say "Guess again, fooh!"

U2 ::: Bono in the Sky with Diamonds

Haha! This is probably from their groovy sixties phase which Conan forgot to cite back in October. Or maybe he planned to until the U2 people threatened to cancel the appearance.

"Life on a distant planet..."

I'm Not Going to Jail!!

Sorry if I startled you with that title. It's just funny how things in my life turn from corner to corner. No, I've not committed a felony. Not yet anyway. Kidding. Whutevur.

But check out the new celebrity Got Milk endorser!

We took my sister to the airport early Monday morning. She was leaving for Jeddah and that being the first time anyone in my family was going abroad for a lengthy period (years), I was a little emotional.

It was funny because in the days prior to her departure, my mother was being all depressed and joked that she wouldn't come with us to the airport. My father was also feeling down but he didn't tell anyone but my mother. I chastised them for their attitude. I told them to change the way they saw the whole situation and that their being depressed would only cause concern for my sister.

Well, there we were saying goodbye and guess who had the bloated eyelids? Yep. This one here.

I tried my best to act cool about it, even taking photos of everyone there to distract myself. Still, seeing my sister walk through the airport entrance pushing her cart with her box and suitcase...was heartbreaking.

In the car on the way home, I couldn't control my tears anymore. I wasn't sobbing or anything, just soaking a piece of cloth with my eyes. What made it worse is I had work later that day and I couldn't think of a good excuse for my eyes.

I've recovered pretty quickly through. I didn't think I would be able to go to work at all but I managed to. My sister now has a job there and, from my mom's text, was able to finally call home and talk to them.

So as you can see, ladies and gentlemen, I'm a sensitive soul though I seem thick-skinned. Thank you, Pumbaa, for that timeless quote from The Lion King.

U2 ::: Hewson Associates, LLC

(Three days and a narrow escape later) I know I said "later today" but I didn't mean in Earth years.

I had no idea that there's a new lobbying firm around. What are these guys saying? That they want Bono to bite the hand that feeds him? Sure, the man's got heart but you can't expect him to become a saint overnight.

Of course, I'd love nothing more than for these greedy corporate types to be stripped of their, well, greediness. But as Bono said himself, "Compromise, it's not a dirty word." We can, therefore, say (or theorize) that he won't touch on this copy protection issue. It's just like when the band chastised him for meeting with Dubya. Being Bono is tough alright and I admire him for picking his battles.

In other developments...

I wonder how things will be come Sunday at the Franco-Italian border. Bastille Day is July 14 so if we want the French to be uncharacteristically friendly, we better hope they win the coupe de monde. The Italians can throw a better victory party though.