Monday, December 25, 2006

greetings

i know it's kinda' late, but as the overused aphorism goes: "Better late than never".

wait. still 25 minutes more before the 26th (that is, if your PC clocks are tuned it to Eastern Daylight Time). and yes, i'm still 25 minutes punctual, if you might say so.

well, here goes...

Merry Christmas!
Frohliche Weinachten!
Joyeaux Noel!
Maligayang Pasko!

:)

latest musing of Etchie at 23:34 0 comments

Saturday, December 23, 2006

'i know that i shall meet my fate....'

sometimes, life leaves me scared shitless.

and the frightening thing is that it never subsides. probably up until the point wherein the irony is obvious and you've been given the option to not do anything about it. in simplicity: accede. but hey, as the French cliche would pound your head: c'est la vie.

ha-ha. i know it's funny to think that i've been wondering about my mortality recently---commencing with Dada's exceedingly odd dream that i died. twice. what i'm not certain if the dream occured on two consecutive days or if there was an interval. superstitious that i am, i think, that dreams that are consecutive in frequency could/might happen in reality (as opposed to the belief that dreams are the opposite).

then, came a package from Manila. Carina sent me a Spiderman trade paperback about Spidey's death and rebirth. somehow, that cemented the thought that a very confounding metamorphosis is well on its way (whether i'll be swallowed up by a Morlun-like creature or emerge as a reborn Peter Parker, i don't know---but i'll welcome the idea, anyhow). a rebirth thing is pretty much okay (as long as i'll live the same way i try to struggle my own life right now---and not transform into a Kafkaesque arthropod), but if i'll stay cocooned eternally...um, that would be a bummer, don't you think?

anyway, i'll perhaps spend the Holidays thinking. positively or otherwise, but i've been through a stress run lately--and this realization could be a repercussion of that siguro.





note:
screw Yeats. but the poem strikes me. let that opening line be the title of this post. Stoltz's character made it out of Memphis Belle by plagiarizing this Ode. it'll be my lucky clover.

latest musing of Etchie at 11:18 0 comments

Sunday, December 10, 2006

when will the midget go?

found this cool countdown timer on one of the blogs that i accidentally stumbled on.

now, i'm wondering if anyone could perhaps create something like this one for the unwanted midget in the palace?




note: if you don't see the timer, just scroll down on the linked blog until you hit rock bottom...

Labels: pulitikol

latest musing of Etchie at 22:58 0 comments

PowerBroke

for no apparent reason, the protective rubber lining of my Apple PowerBook G4's optical drive came off as i was ripping CDs to iTunes last night.



i don't really use the drive that much except for my occasional dose of dvds as well as ripping/burning compact discs. although the drive is perfectly functional, the only thing that worries me is that it scratch discs as soon as they are ejected.

view from another angle:



this afternoon i decided to bring it to the nearby Apple Store to have it fixed. by the time we got there, the apple technician (and the ever helpful apple staff) told me that i need to sign-up for an appointment first before they could check on the problem. so, i did. lo and behold it turned out that there were no available appointments left for the day. (note to self: sign-up for tomorrow). out i went.

compusa fared a little better, at least. however, the tech said that i need to leave the notebook for 7-10 days while they ship it back to Apple to have the optical drive replaced (or whatever's needed to be fixed) because the warranty is still covered by the manufacturer. that got me thinking. i could hand them the notebook and the assurance that they could repair it---but i'll be without a computer in the next two weeks which will be bloody excruciating (let's leave the metaphor to that, believe me, it'll hurt pretty darn bad).

in the end, i had to settle on bringing it back tomorrow to have the Apple folks look at it (or fix it). that is, if i could get the earliest appointment in the book.

Labels: broken, optical drive bust, powerbook

latest musing of Etchie at 22:12 0 comments

Friday, December 08, 2006

vignette: december 8

note: i've been in the mood for a short fiction for days now, but something is precluding me from putting it into writing. i don't know what is forcing me not to, and all i could think about was finishing a reply to a memo that was sent to me for a 'violation' that didn't really transpire. probably it was one of those circumstances wherein you have to answer everything even for the darndest nonexistent misstep you could've/would've taken (i'm still attempting to figure out whatever that was).

anyway, december 7 is the 65th anniversary of the attack on Pearl Harbor and a story happened to be brewing up in my head. so read on.

* * * * * * * * * *

He was staring inebriatedly at the huge clock above him. It was three in the morning.

He'd been drinking since after dinner. The sad part was, he didn't need alcohol until he knew it was necessary. Necessity, he thought, the way women would play with you and leave you to wallow in a bottle of whiskey is necessity. He made a loud burp and struggled away, groggily zigzagged on the cement pavement, allowed his feet to take him home.

Home. Fuck. Where is home. He asked. More of a statement than a question.

He felt a sudden burning sensation creeping up from his ulcer and he vomitted. Liquified plastic and all---undigested dinner mixed with acid. His hands searched for something to grasp, and rested on a metal rail.

He thought of her. The vaudeville theatre in Quiapo. After Mass. Sundays brought in more of them. Girls that were pretty much wanting to liberate themselves from their mundane lifestyle. Amidst the crowded rows of awed spectators, he caught her eye. Locked in astonished gaze. Soon, he discovered that he was only deserving of a visceral romance. Nonetheless, he pursued her. Like a famished predator on hunting season. Though he knew it would be futile from the beginning, he made the attempt anyway.

The clock made a deafening boom and he thought the hour hand struck four. Today is the Feast of Immaculate Conception. He was aware that in the morning he would be facilitating the procession, and he could not bring himself to look like this in front of the people. But he knew he'd been vomitting for an hour now and the curfew would be lifted in another. But something was amiss, his mind queried. The sound could not have come from a movement of the hour hand. It was loud enough.

Slowly, he turned his head and glanced upwards. Saw the clock hand still pointing to three-fifteen.

What the hell? He wondered.

And then he heard the drone of planes.

Labels: fiction, writing

latest musing of Etchie at 11:11 0 comments

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