the good of "ondoy"

I called up my cousin after learning that he was finally home. He had been stranded in Cainta, on the second floor of his friend’s house for three days due to the floods that has wrecked so much havoc to the city and its neighboring provinces. As I spoke to him and asked the usual questions (How are you? How did things go? Were you safe all the time? How was the damage?), his voice, jolly person that he usually is, slowly took a more serious tone. He kept mentioning how bad it was, how bad he felt, how mad he was that all of this had to happen. He was frustrated for the damage, for all the loss, for all the destruction. Then he mentioned he got angry with God, but immediately felt sorry that he did, but still… why did He allow such to happen?

* * * * *

I got up early that Sunday morning, despite spending the night before wondering what tomorrow would bring. I guess it was due to all the physical and emotional fatigue I had that fateful Saturday when I witnessed the entire city slowly sink under an unforgiving sea of mud and rain. I fell asleep effortlessly, deep and dreamless. Waking up to the morning sun the next day felt unusually eerie, even out of place to a degree as if i wasn't expecting it to be there. The air was still heavy with moisture, saturated I presume from all the rain that we have had the past 12 hours, notably, as much rain as what we would get for an entire month. My uncle and aunt busied themselves with their usual morning routine. They had just come back from a quick drive around Quezon City to scope out the damage. Basing from their expression, it was no where close to what they were expecting. The drive to church was a quiet one, the silence only broken by exclamations of disbelief as we passed by buildings and homes and meter high walls washed clean by an obviously strong surge. Ironic actually, these structures are now scrubbed spotless by the raging current and yet, in the waters wake, strewn about are mounds of mud and garbage. Tires and debris hung like banderitas on roofs and fences and second floor balconies. The roads had relented to the current and the asphalt peeled off like chaffing skin. Container trucks and mud-caking cars litter the streets as if some gigantic child threw a tantrum in his playpen. People, with empty gazes and expression-less face start emerging, watching dazed as what must have been all their worldly possessions now are reduced to a worthless heap of trash.

Someone prayed out loud that morning, thanking God for the flood and the rain. Someone then prayed, praising God as our wind, our joy, our rest. Indeed, it was a strange prayer, but then I realized, after a fellow brother shed light on our circumstances, that God, in His great purpose, can also use such tragedies as tools to work out His good purpose, for His good pleasure, that is, to save us all. I then recalled the life of Job, and Jonah and that also of Paul and Silas and too eventually admitted to myself, yes, truly, the Lord will work out all things for the good. I said my amen’s.

* * * * *

“why did He have to do this?” my cousin asked again. “why this?”.

“because.” I replied. “sometimes, I think, God gets tired of being ignored”.

“but don’t ever presume, that with our limited comprehension, that He has no purpose nor reason in His ways. God is righteous. Good always issues out from His works, God could even use the works of the devil to carry out His great plan. I have been following tweets these past few days and I am simply amazed as how people have mobilized, like an army, to help out all those in need. It gives me goosebumps reading about all the “good” that this tragedy had caused, a good that I doubt, we would not have seen if it were not for this tragedy. I had a discussion with a friend not too long ago about how I felt we lacked a sense of community in this country. That we practice a culture of apathy. I am glad to stand corrected however, after having witness people being so selfless these past couple of days, even to the point of sacrificing their lives for the sake of others.”

I then told him the story of muelmar magallanes and other tales of heroism and kindness from strangers.

“you are frustrated because you were caught helpless. God made you feel helpless and futile. He put you in your place in the great scheme of things and you did not like that, that’s probably why you feel like that now. But consider this, there are people out there more helpless than you. I suggest you use up all that energy you have pent up inside and do something positive with it. Volunteer. Donate. Do something. Pray even. Pray for good weather. Pray for more kindness. Praise God for His good purpose.”

for those still wishing to help, please contact the national red cross for details. you could also find the nearest donation site to deliver goods to give to those who badly need it the most.

spring awakening: the half review

so there i was outside the carlos p. romulo auditorium, watching people trickle away to their seats while i loitered about at the lobby waiting for my "broux" to arrive. pooped out from work, he woke up late and got caught in friday-night makati traffic, made worse by the incessant rain. an hour and a full act later, he finally materializes... together with our tickets. as we got to our seats, it was just when actor joaquin valdes was doing this rain dance of some sorts on top of a flimsy looking stage which eventually (and very quickly, i might add) progressed to him doing the horizontal mambo with actress kelly latti. one boob exposure and joaquin mooning the entire audience later, it was intermission.

and so here begins my half review.

considering i didn't get to see the first act and have absolutely no idea who the characters are or what the primary plot is, allow me to give my impressions based solely on the powers and my observation and my imagination filling in the blanks. i presume the setting was in turn of the century germany basing on the costume, the set, the character's names and well, the values being portrayed, conservative and very narrow. the story revolved (as far as the second part, that is) around melchior and wendla, their story being he fucked her, she allowed him to fuck her and now she's pregnant which apparently during those times is a big no-no. scandalous shit that he is in, melchior gets expelled from school (the cast are portraying teens going thru puberty i think, hence the title) and so the story goes. there are other subplots that flank this main story like a budding (bading?) gay relationship, and a suicide. i think there were some more issues tackled from the first act but since i didn't get to see any of that, no point in me telling.

so where do i begin when your first vivid memory of a play is someone's butt? quite everywhere but (no pun intended) the play, really. i sat through the second half and found my eyes and ears start to drift and wander. pardon me for my lack of attention but puberty and the taboo of sex and all these teen issues is old news to me, and no matter how you repackage old news, its still old news. i could not help but notice however the reaction of the audience. they were for the most part captivated. i recall studying this one member sitting on stage (part of the seats were on stage) and how she looked and followed the cast, almost as if dissecting them with her eyes as she sat, legs crossed and eyes focused. there was also the old lady seated behind me who remarked a lot to her seatmate. though i often dislike people giving unsolicited commentary, i however found myself eavesdropping since i found it interesting, even entertaining as to how she reacted to some of the graphic scenes on stage. thankfully, she was not your palengkera manang variety but conducted her expressions with controlled and much appreciated poise (pa-chuckle chuckle lang).

my appetite now stirred, i began taking notice of the play (finally). this was at the point wherein frazzled moritz came out (played by an adorable looking nicco manalo with his lyle lovett hair). playing a kid wound up to the point of breaking, the actor did his role well since i definitely felt his frustration. his singing on the other hand, well, lets just say, i liked his acting better. actor joaquin valdes was just as good as how he was the first time i saw him. i am still impressed by how well he executes his role, singing-wise and acting-wise. who would have thought beady eyes could be so expressive! same holds true with the lead actress, kelly latti, playing the naive and now pregnant wendla. i however found her singing weak and actually had some difficulty understanding some of the words she sang. jett pangan and cheska inigo played all the adults on stage (and i do mean ALL) and i found it amusing how they shifted from one character to the next like a pair of hyperactive schizophrenics. their presence provided me some comic relief from all the weight these kids were serving. not surprisingly, it was the adult's performance that i liked the most. there was another source of humor in the story, from the blossoming gay love between a very cute jc santos and nar cabico. again, it was a momentary break from all the loss and strife, something that i appreciated (especially with such eye candy). i just however wish the actors payed better attention to diction since i found myself get distracted every time a word is "mis-intonated". for gay germans, medyo matigas dila nila :)

overall, my impressions of the play were so-so. i think the plot, despite it being rather cliche, still had great story-telling potential. it deals with issues we are all familiar with and undoubtedly, issues with still much social relevance. this is rather advantageous since all the actors needed do is rekindle this memory and they have the audience in the bag, HOWEVER, it was just that that i found them lacking in. though grossly, their performance conveyed the main sentiment, it was in the details that they missed out a lot. they didn't, to me, feel troubled enough, agitated enough. their movements, for me, fell short of the edginess as well as the abrasiveness, crass, almost obscene explosion of emotions one would expect from repressed teens. i could not help but feel a sense of restraint with them. funny actually, in some parts, the adults felt more real in letting go of their inhibitions and acting more like teens that the "teens" themselves.

song-wise, they were ok. quite modern with a lot of the feel almost reminiscent to RENT. again, however, their delivery lacked the oomph! i had wished they had. they were able to do it in some parts but weren't so successful in the rest. i just hope they do better in their future runs.

so there goes my half review. "spring awakening" wasn't as awakening as i had hoped despite the awards and the reviews. considering that i only saw the later part of the musical, i could only wish that the part that i didn't see would make a significant difference in my eventual musical viewing experience.

"spring awakening" runs from september 25 until october 18 at the carlos p. romulo auditorium, RCBC plaza, makati. For tickets, call 8927078 or 8401187

in no particular order

in no particular order...

1. HAPPY dry roasted garlic peanuts. family size.
2. riding on the passenger seat of a car.
3. smiling to greet.
4. someone taking a second glance and smiling back.
5. hearing a friend mistaking someone for gibbs cadiz.
6. having the same friend almost mistake the same person for gibbs a second time.
7. the tweet "Good morning universe, world, earth, Philippines, tourism, photogenic, and congeniality!"
8. watching Avenue Q.
9. witty remarks.
10. being greeted by friendly strangers while i run.
11. triple mousse chocolate cake... which a friend ate.
12. breakfast after a marathon.
13. finally meeting (you).
14. chatting with zoe while i decide on which shoe to buy.
15. watching UP and feeling like a child again.
16. nanbantei chicken skin!!
17. meeting curly fries.
18. coffee at baang.
19. wearing my copper shoes.
20. falling asleep.

the horizons of change

was chatting with a friend last night, touching base and trying to keep ties, something that i am rather guilty of not doing well. while in the middle of our conversation, he inquires about how i am doing currently. though i often answer such questions with an almost reflex "i'm ok... i guess", i found myself last night going into more detail. though my standard answer, i believe, does hold true to my situation as i really was ok, it however felt short of what i really felt inside.

funny. i know i talk a lot and like to share my opinion about almost everything under the sun, but when issues are turned towards me and i find myself digging deep into myself for answers, then words suddenly become scarce. i guess this is what people call "walling up". i however, would like to think that i do this gracefully and mask my discomfort by becoming more cerebral in my mood and apathetic in my tone. logic and sense, i guess, had always been an effective security blanket, even though i am sure if faced with a Vulcan, i would definitely look like an utter fool.

last night however, i found myself digging deep. rather, what had been resting deep surfaced with ease. though i never really shared so much of myself to this friend of mine before, he suddenly became the recipient of my inner overflow.

"so how are you?" he asked, that was all i needed to hear (read... since we were on YM).

i suddenly had a semi-vision. i saw myself to be like Abraham, when God brought him up to the mountains to show him his inheritance, pointing to the endless land, the stars and the sand... i felt like i too was on top of a mountain, but instead of feeling a great sense of thankfulness, i could only feel a springing sense of daunt. i said, i am now at a point in my life when i can actually look into the future and decide. it used to be rather unrealistic back when i was younger since i think i still didn't know what i want and dreading about the future was just a waste. but now, now that i am older, the future is here. i am catching up already to what fate has destined for me.

the path is clearer. the choices i have to make are beginning to be realized, and though i know i can handle a lot more now, a good part of me feels unwilling all of a sudden. ironically, despite the future now being more certain and concomitantly, less stressful, i am now finding myself struggling to be freed from it. a part of me thinks that i had given up so much to prepare for today and for what tomorrow brings that i have not enjoyed my life because of it. now that i am just beginning to reap the "fruits of my labor", here comes the the real test and now i don't want it. i don't want to be enslaved by it anymore.

"sacrifice" is a word i see and hear in my family very often. if ever there is one trait i inherited, it is this, to be long-bearing. but to be able to perform such feats of endurance requires as well mental fortitude and a strong will, both of which i think i have either depleted or have exhausted needlessly a long time ago.

gluttony

Foie gras (pronounced /fwɑːˈɡrɑː/ in English; French for "fat liver") is a food product made of the liver of a duck or goose that has been specially fattened. This fattening is typically achieved through gavage (force-feeding) corn, according to French law, though outside of France it is rarely produced using natural feeding.

(source: wikipedia)

... or what i would often call it, orgasm on a plate.

ever since my chef-friend introduced me to the possible deadliness of this exotic food, i was hooked, hooked with the idea that is. her stories about cooking it, tasting it, relishing it and all it's artery clogging-heart attack inducing goodness was enough to drive me to the nearest fine dining resto and shell out almost a thousand bucks (yes, its a pricey piece of liver!) for a sliver of french delicacy. my foie gras devirginization was in the form of an apple garden salad with foie gras from now non-existent cena at greenbelt 2. the moment the piece came into contact with my tongue, i knew i was forever doomed.

now, years later since that fateful sunday, meet my latest foie gras indulgent experience....

greenbelt 5's lusso's FOIE GRAS BURGER. a slab of the french goose's utter diviness, tucked safely away in a packet formed by the juiciest ground beef patty i have ever tasted. complemented by finely caramelized onions, a crispy glazed muffinesque bun and melted cambozola cheese.

(source: liveintheworld.livejournal.com)

spell KILL ME NOW will you? then again... watch the clip, then spell it out!

eyes wide shut

"kiss him", the familiar voice told me. it's tone, non- suggesting but more like demanding that i give in to the deed. i leaned in and did just that, feeling his tender lips rest against mine. i was standing a short distance away, taken aback by my seeming coolness to kiss what almost looked like a complete stranger, wondering to myself, how can i be so nonchalant, more so, who is this person telling me what to do? as i turned my gaze upon the owner of the commanding voice, i saw myself again, standing by myself lying in bed with another, a person who's face i now recognized. we were kissing, slowly undressing, giving in to carnal desires, all with careful attention to specific instructions from my directing voice. i was three separate consciousnesses, all sentient of what the other was thinking, doing, experiencing. i zoomed in to take a close-up shot, in the middle of my kiss, i could see the angle was perfect. as i turned away, not being able to bare the lewdness of the act, my hand reached down to him and i felt his soft skin burning against mine. "finish it now" i said again, our bodies now intertwined in a dance of violence and sheer lust, my expression, air-hungry and almost in complete disbelief.

i opened my eyes to the blinding fluorescent light of my bedroom, to the flickering screen saver of my laptop. the room was freezing and i was without a blanket. i looked at the time and realized i had fallen asleep again, fatigued from working three consecutive nights. i could not handle it anymore. i clicked on my laptop to hibernate. i collected all my documents strewn all over my bed, and reached for my fleece blanket. as i got up to turn off the lights and rested my head on my willing pillow, i felt myself slowly slip back to the dream, but i was now alone. no one else was there.

because i DON'T want to wallow

during times like this when i feel like it would be a good thing to fall into distress and just begin doing what i do best, that is feel sorry for myself, i stop to collect my bearings and slap senses into myself again. "the world will not end... yet." "there is still hope for tomorrow." and "you will get through this a better, more experienced person" is what i try to convince myself. they're almost like a auto brainwash, a conscious effort to preoccupy and distract myself from falling into nega and just stay fine. it takes a lot of work to fight against my habit. it feel more work if you barely have any more will power left. with clicking my ruby-reds and chanting my "there's no place like home"'s, i find myself wanting to write all of a sudden, to a person i have only met once but have never spoken to before. permit me to have this random act since, trust me, this is way better than you guys hearing me wallow.

so this guy. i met him once in this gathering. never really paid him much attention since, i was too busy dividing my attention to the ppl around me. but as my focus grew more and more splintered, he opened his mouth and spoke. this was all he did that made him the object of my undivided attention. suddenly in a room full of so-sos and ho-hums, a beacon started to blink. there was really nothing special with this guy, nothing really remarkable to say the least. i however, for some reason found him curious. i found him interesting to a point that he was all i really remembered in that gathering, this considering i never spoke to him nor him with me. to this guy, thanks for breaking the monotony of that night by opening you mouth. your words, though were not directed to me, i found were too adorable to ignore. i hope, as you spend your days now, living your life in the city, that you have a great one. live a happy one. live a fulfilling one. live a life full of thanksgiving and appreciation, add to that one from a wandering bear who just chanced to have eavesdropped :)

ahh, that made me feel much better.

hmmm. makes me now find something new to do next time i attend these parties. look for that person who will make that night seem unforgettable.

mader.... u know who was the apple of my eye the last time :)

puttering

i think i might, just might, be feeling the tell-tale signs of a major burn out. that said, i really don't know what i can do to improve my endurance than to simple ride out the "storm".

there has been a lot troubling me these past few days, most of them about anxieties of what is to come. it frustrates me a great deal that until now, i don't seem to have things all figured out. i recall telling myself that by the time i reach 30, i'd be made. i'd know what my purpose is and i will have direction in my life. yet the big 3-0 came and went and i still feel i am no different from the time i had that thought. i still feel clueless. i still feel i have no direction. i definitely feel i have yet to be made. all of this, what i am feeling now, this is what scares me.

i would sometimes try to console myself that my time will come eventually, that all i have to be is steady. strong and steady is the secret of the game, i say. but when i am amongst my peers, some the same age, some older, some younger, i cannot help it but feel a tinge of panic... mixed with a smaller tincture of envy i guess. ask me what i do and i cannot answer you unless it's in the form of a paragraph. ask others the same question and the answer is most often short and simple: doctor, lawyer, account executive, agent, architect, engineer, vice president, president. ask me what i want to be years from now, and expect another dizzying paragraph. ask others and be prepared for another serving of skillfully executed conciseness.

(sigh)

people i recall said that time is one commodity you can never buy back, and i cannot help but feel, maybe, i had been wasteful.

now that i am older

i think i have unconsciously started practicing being blunt. i just find myself saying exactly what i think without many of the usual embellishments i do to make what i say, hmmm, more palatable. i guess turning a year older and finally embracing how un-young i am made me finally let go of being too mindful of how ppl would react towards me. now that i am older, thinking about whether people will or will not like me doesnt feel too important anymore. i would like to think i have already gotten for myself a steady pool of trusted people, all of whom know me well enough not to take offense if in case i do serve my observations cold and raw. i think of it as me doing them well by telling them what they need to hear, not what they want to hear.

then, there are also those acquaintances, practical strangers really, whom, after long scrunity, i have deduced to be those who really need the cold, hard, unpretty truth slapped onto their faces. those who seem to live in a bubble and constantly find ppl to reinforce their delusion. i know a few actually. i really should stop patronizing them. i think it's even more mean to feed their warped sense of reality than to just be honest, even if it means you have to be harsh.

case in point. i got a SMS from a guy i haven't spoken to in a long while. so long, i actually deleted his number from my phone already, TWICE. once, since he just became dormant. the second time because i found him too narcissistic after he pried his way back into my life. anyway, "boy out of the blue" started asking about a friend, apparently his all-time, long-time crush. since he saw us together in a picture and he still had my number (DRAT!), he decided it was the perfect time to be friends with me again and touch base.

at first i wasn't too concerned with how he was babbling on how much he was in to my friend (despite them NEVER having met before). i even prodded him to take his chances and ask him out. he then asked for his mobile. that was when my senses kicked in.

"wait one darn pick'n minute!!!! why the hell should i give his number to you? i don't even know you that well. HECK! i don't even like you that much! i deleted you number TWICE for goodness sakes!" was what i thought to myself.

he continued on prodding me for info. the guy was starting to annoy me. it was that rekindled irritation that made me remember why i didn't like him so much. this was the guy who would call me at 3-freak'n-am while i'm fast asleep, only to ask me if i was asleep!!!! and get this.... after i would answer him a dull "YES" in my sleepiest of tones, he would STILL carry on chatting about whatever nonesense that happened to him in the day, in the province, about his dog, or whatever topic i could really care less about. it got so bad, he was the first person i said, and in as rude of a tone as i could muster at 3am "boy. you woke me up at 3am for this? i'm going back to sleep!" then i hung up. needless to say, he never called me back, much to my utter delight.

honestly though, i sometimes wonder, why did i ever feel consciencious about dealing with people like him. now that im being bluntly honest, i think i have to start learning to be harsh with myself as well. for now though, i had to create a profile in this networking site to snoop him out, just so i can give accurate info to my friend in case he becomes now the object of his inconsiderate attention.

09.09.09

i stand upon the precipice again, the spot i was last when i spoke to you. it seemed that despite how you are pneuma, the air, i still manage to ignore your undeniable presence. but i decide to do that no more. i decide to welcome you again.

30 years you have led me. 30 years you have remained faithful. you have never wavered, never faltered, never lost hope even if the greatest of men would have done so, so long ago. your love constrains me and i cannot help it but be humbled to be the recipient of such devotion. i am not worthy, but you decided otherwise. i am thankful. it is indeed true what they say, that we love you because you first loved us.

it had been a long and arduous walk since that day by the cliff edge, and i have felt so lonely. i was lonely only because i did not want you to be there to see me fail. i was a wretch undone. but you did not mind. you did not care. your all abounding love, incomprehensible by my finite capacity, was a safety net i could not escape from. even if i were to fall, even if i were to fail, you would not forsake me because you loved me so. it tears me apart that i cannot love you back the same way, but again, you do not mind. your love is all conquering, it is transcendent. it is all sufficient, never lacking, never wanting.

why was it that of the billions in the world, that you would have chosen to be stubborn with me. i, who chose against you many times, who had fallen from grace, who had walked away from your light, who had turned his back from your call, who had quenched the spirit, who had grieved you so? you remained still by my side, your person faint but still palpable. you kept your distance from me, never imposing but always ready to approach the moment i would call.

this is my strange relationship with you. an external, outward connection. superficial in many degrees and grossly, with much shame for me to admit, inadequate for i know, i feel, you desire for more. for that, allow me to ask you, humbly request you, to come. do come. i hunger. i thirst. i long again for your supply. and in your tending to me, allow me to be useful to you. it is about time i be of good purpose. 30 years i have wandered. it is about time that i finally sojourned. alas, my Lord is the good land.

i pray, you may find me pleasing in your eyes. i pray, i may bring you joy.

decisions

i was sprawled on my bed this afternoon, half asleep, half awake, half decided whether or not i would take the afternoon off, since i thought it would do me some good, and get a massage. i decided to go.

the drive to the spa was more than the usual today, probably due to the unusual weather, probably due to the unusual day i had. i could not help but notice how the rain poured and waned as i traveled the moderate distance. i could not help but think and rethink of the day's activities as well and the many thoughts i have been having these past few days. but i also thought i should give myself some reprieve, there will be time for this later. i decided to stop.

reaching the spa and changing out of my clothes, i went into the steam room and immediately caught his attention. i also immediately sensed him out. you learn to do this after a while i reckon, besides, he wasn't really being subtle. i sat across him and him, across me. i toyed with the thought of what could happen as he sat there and did his business, whether or not he was mindful that i could see him despite the thick steam, i do not know. i was tired and my fatigue took its toll as i could feel myself slowly slipping away. but just as i was about to fall away, i decided to catch myself.

i watched his shadow on the room wall as he labored hard in kneading the knots out of my back. i had expected this already but could not do anything to help him but remain relaxed and quiet. in my stillness, in my efforts to cooperate, my mind began to wander again, to the thoughts of the morning, to thoughts of my many yesterdays and the duties of tomorrow. he caught a nodule on my back and pressed it, causing me to spasm all of a sudden, breaking me from my reverie. it took me only a while to relax again, for my body to loosen and relent to the beating i was submitting myself to. i decided to stay in the present.

the call of the good son

"hey, you forgot you lunch", kuya said. i had forgotten about my baon again as i was hurrying out for work. such is often the case when something breaks me from my usual morning routine. kuya was at the dining table munching on hotdogs the help had left for us for breakfast when i approached. as i was packing my food, kuya told me that he spoke to his boss the night before. they were having a performance appraisal and he was asked how he was doing. what kuya said after that almost made me cry.

it was 830 in the morning and dad was home, sitting on his chair watching TV. he had the volume up again, like how he usually does since (though he denies it still), i think he is already hard at hearing. he strains to watch since his other eye is still unusable. he sits there quietly and i could not help but realize, after speaking to kuya, how old my dad has become.

i had driven mom to the shop in chinatown that morning at 6am. since dad could no longer handle the business, mom has been doing it for him. she complains little and she tries to bear as much as she can, but despite her brave facade, you know she is starting to give. you know she's tired and you know she doesnt want anyone to know. i watched her walk away from my rear view mirror after i dropped her off. her walk, her look as she crossed the street, spoke volumes to me, and yet, i did not know what to do to help.

kuya mentioned the reversal of roles now, now that our parents are getting older. the pressure is on again. i dont think it was ever off to begin with anyway. this time however, the pressure is for real.

love will overcome.

MPS

my neck is so stiff, it fells like any moment now, something's gonna give and my neck would snap in two! OUCH. this should be normal now for me, now that i'm stuck at a desk job. tight neck and upper back muscles hardened with knots and whatnot's are now my daily companions. even if i move around and stretch them often, they never seem to go away and leave me alone. the moment i'd sit back on my chair, they spasm immediately back, leaving me feeling like im wearing a concrete hoodie. i pity the masseuse that gets to work on me as i could feel them struggle to break up every nodule they find. i actually find myself apologizing to them since, i am sure they have never handled kneading anyone whose back is as bad as mine and i just hate making people suffer. (wag re-REACT!)

i sometimes envy my friends who look so relaxed when the get massaged. it seems all that effleurage really helped and while they would get up feeling all refreshed and rejuvinated, here i am wondering when all that release i am supposed to feel would kick in. exercise is supposed to help alleviate tightness since it promotes blood circulation, however based on the subtle complaints (masquerading as comments) my masseuse would make, it seems to be doing quite the opposite.

standard ice-breaking conversations they would make me upon first having a feel of my back would go something like this:

masseuse: "sir, ang tigas naman ng likod nyo. bukol bukol. lagi siguro kayong nag-gi-gym noh?"

me: "hehehehe. medyo. pangpatangal lang ng suya sa trabaho."

"ah. ganoon ho ba? e, ilang beses naman ho kayo pumupunta ng gym?"

"um.... (hestitates a bit) er.... 6 times a week?"

"HO??!"

and with that answer, my masseuse knew his fate was sealed. obviously, i had a lot of suya to deal with. good thing i chose to neglect to inform him that i run marathons and kickbox as well. he just might bring a jackhammer next time i come to visit.