Reprieve from "professionalism's" clutches

Wednesday night, finally. After a day-long 'fuckin work, it has all come to an end -- temporarily. I go solo on Friday. Fran, my officemate, is going to have a well-deserved vacation in Florida with her beloved family which leaves me alone with Dr. Verga in the workplace on Friday. At first, work seemed tractable enough and surprisingly enjoyable enough for me. Now that hours feel like days and days seem like months, I'm sick of work. I just want to hit the hay and take my respite for all eternity like sleeping beauty. Unfortunately, I can't. Responsibilities are required and money earned. Even if it's UTTERLY against my will, I can't just mope about and lax around! Goddamnit! Mother keeps on making me do all these chores! But hey, it's got to be done. After all, I am the man of the house. I could recall the chores yesterday when I had to mow the lawn and give the shrubs and the pine tree a haircut -- THE PINE TREE!!!! Who in the hell would want to go up a ladder and make a perfect cone out of a tree with its leaves going to his face every time he pulls the trigger of the "tree-grooming-mechanism?" NO FUCKING ONE!!! I was literally in camouflage back then. I could've won the Vietnam War by myself with the 'effing camo I was in... Jesus.

Nonetheless, it was all worth it. At least I got something done. I rewarded myself with a very delectable strawberry cheesecake. I know it's bad. I just had to reward myself!!! ZIP IT!!!

As I had accomplished something yesterday, I also did do today. I worked my ass off for eight hours! I got my wage and scurried on home. It was no easy task, I can tell you that. I had to sit on a chair FOODLESS (except for a couple of apples and tea) and type on the PC, rummage through the files, answer the telephone and open the door in Dr. Verga's office! I swear, I thought I was going to faint. Luckily, I got to take the bus ride from Manhattan to Yonkers safely and slept inside there. I hope I didn't snore!

Well, I'm on duty the WHOLE fuckin' week next week except on the fourth of July and the weekend. Plus, I need to go solo on Friday. Wish me luck, folks.

Pray for me.

My Poem... A SEMI-FINALIST in the INTERNATIONAL LIBRARY OF POETRY CONTEST?!?!?!

My mother saw an ad in the New York Times three months ago that states a poetry contest hosted by "poetry.com" or the International Library of Poetry is searching for freestyle poems throughout the country. She told me to reply since she knew of my love for words and it's synoptic potential. It wouldn't hurt anyway. And so, I did. I sent my latest and last, I was thinking at that time, poetry.

A couple of months have passed and we received a mail that I am a semi finalist in the competition. It was totally unexpected! The International Library of Poetry even said that THAT VERY POEM was excellent. It's a good thing some people can understand and appreciate my art since the people that have surrounded me before never really understood or have taken sufficient grasp to it. It's a good thing I did not lose hope. This has given me yet another purpose to accelerate my old and newfound talent. The poetry is titled "The Kiss of Beau Belle." It exhibits my sentiments towards a kiss of a certain someone that I miss presently.

Things change. I guess it's better off this way. Anyway, without further a due... The poem.

The Kiss of Beau Belle

Oh, lurid shades of grey
Pacify my undying taste
For love, for passion
For the permanence of place.

My incandecent core
Shield my apparent fervor
Girdle me with continence
Humble me with lore

As the leaves whisper the sound of stillness
And as the moon emanates power
Evoking the words of silence
Eliciting the warmth to flower

The world bloomed anew
Withing our private world of osculation
God was visible in you
In this divine intervention

Men search interminably for utopia
Not finding them to be true
Nonetheless, I have found my nirvana
In the kiss of me and you.

Mind you, being a semi-finalist in this contest means that this VERY POEM will be published in a book. Specifically, the book is titled "Immortal Verses." Lovely, no?

Beau Belle stands for "Beautiful Bella." Yes, I still think of her until now.

Windfall amidst a World of Calculations

I have a driver's permit.

Yes, I can drive now. Surprised? Yes? I am as well. My mother and I went to this driving office thing with no idea what to accomplish. We just went there to settle a few papers and then the next thing I knew, the staff redirected me to a testroom to take the driving written test. I passed. Wonderful. Lovely. I never expected this. I didn't study AT ALL! What in the hell is that?!?!

I am now on my way to practicing this art that is maneuvering this metallic subject labeled as "the car." Wow. I have to go to this driving school for five hours. Thereafter, I have to take the practical test. I heard the parallel parking was a killer.

Anyway, this is totally unexpected. It just indulged my mentally-inclined ego a hundred folds. Jesus. There ARE divine forces at work here.

What else can I say? That's me. I celebrated my unprecedented success with red wine and a couple of brown ale from England. How lofty.

Wish me luck in the road test, folks.

Noontime in Manhattan

Sure, I have a new job ahead of me. But before everything else comes in full circle, I have to get past the orientation which can really take a lot out of a person; well, that's my opinion. Manhattan, 12:11 pm(5th Ave & 81st Street Co. Museum of Modern Art) There I was, in the car with my mother. She told me it would be better if she were to bring me to work on the orientation day since it was her day off. As we approached the building of our destination, I saw an old looking lady standing on the doorway of what I recalled as the office of Dr. Verga, an Italian plastic surgeon who I was supposed to work for. I approached the pleasant-looking lady and asked her where "Agnes" was. Agnes was the person who referred me to this job; she is a family friend. I call her by the nickname "Tita Gingging." Apparently, the lady was the person who I am going to fill in whenever she's away; she was the secretary. She introduced herself to me by the name "Fran." I knew her name at that time because I make it a habit to know all the vital aspects in every important undertaking that I undergo. She told me to wait inside and take a seat while she clearly waited for a patient, she told me, who was supposed to have a belly-tuck or, in medical terms, abdomina plasti. (I have no idea how to spell it; just did so by the judgement of my hearing.) When I entered the well-kept building, I saw, again, a pleasant looking person in a doctor's garment. I assumed it was Dr. Verga; I was correct. He spoke to me about filling in for Fran and how it was nice to meet me. I responded in kind and told him that it was, indeed, an opportunity to work for him because I was planning to take up medicine for college. After I said that, I saw a slight smirk on Dr. Verga's face. Thereafter, Fran entered with the patient. After which, Dr. Verga catered to the patient. Fran showed me the works... everything. She spoke about how I should operate the telephone, find documents, fax documents, speak to the patients, log the schedule of appointments, find the patient's background forms, xerox the forms, get the insurance, talk to the insurance company if it calls Dr. Verga, and so forth. It was overwhelming to me at first, but I soon got the gist and feel of it. She also toured me around the comfy-feeling office that I just intently listened as she spoke away as the tourguide. When the patient was done speaking to Dr. Verga, she and the doctor went to the front desk where Fran and I was. They were still confabulating. She expressed her utter gratitude of the operations that she felt better about herself and such that she cited a few instances. After which, she bid farewell to us. Surprisingly, people going to that office were so pleasant, they even took notice of little old me. Shucks! Dr. Verga spoke to me as the patient went out the door. He discoursed about my salary, his work, his reputation and the like. Obviously, he is a big name in New York. He works in omnifarious places and manages to put up his own practice in that very office. I was astounded. We idle chatted for a while since Italians are inherently like that. In time, he and Fran told me not to worry about first day because he is always there to answer EVERY question that I have. What a nice guy. He's not like those anal doctors who often demands perfection. I love this job. I'm definitely going to be here the whole summer and LOVE every minute of it. When all was said and done, I jetted away to the car while they still went about their daily business.

Random Thoughts Amalgamated

If you only knew, I would be with you to wipe your tears away I would wrap you around my arms and never let you go I will never let any evil touch your supple skin And take the happiness from your heart. Unconditionally, I idle in the devil’s playground hoping for sweet redemption. How can an enamored soul survive the cesspool of bitterness? His hope will set him free. That a day of reckoning would unshackle your heart From the illusive tether of blindfolded infatuation He looks up to the heavens from the flames of the playground. He simulates the look of the roiling waters of the sea. In agony his body but not his soul, he seeks shelter in harmony. His mind cannot be taken away by the devil. The imperfect design of life demands such imperfect love, So he shall give it -- He deems to be true. Now is not the time to disclose this. Distant from the April breeze he shall idle until time beckons him so, Waiting for her shackles to rust away in the snow He waits in quietude, from all that is ostensible. He will wipe away the tears from her eyes when time beckons him so. Now is not yet time; he knows this to be true. But when it comes, he will replenish, revitalize and renew.

Oh, Just a Teenager Lobbying Against Smoking

I know I've used to do this but I've turned over a new leaf. I've found out the uselessness in smoking. What do you get out of it? The temporary alleviation of stress? C'mon. There are other ways to do that. Do some cardiovascular workout for starters! You have no idea how much you are going to gain if you do quit this gruesome vice. I have experienced so myself. If I have enough time and patience in the future, I will write an entry regarding this issue -- An essay even!!! Take my word for it. Smoking only makes things worse both physically and psychologically. Hell, drinking booze is even better than smoking, but do drink in regulation. DO NOT EVER combine these two vices for you don't know what effects they can do to debilitate your health. Do you not want to be as sexy as I am? lol... THEN STOP SMOKING?! Ciao

Everything is Going to be Different

The SAT has finally come to an end; things are going to feel really different hereafter. It's just that I've been studying my ass off the whole month of May for that thing, review course inclusive. Now that it has been taken and all hopes are up, I have nothing to do but rot yet again. The results are going to be given three weeks after the test date. Hopefully, my sacrifices would not go in vain. I've stopped working out for two whole weeks for that test. That's equivalent to six workout days to buff up. And I'm telling you, that's a whole lot of days wasted. If you know me, you would even be surprised why in the hell I missed six whole days for just a 'friggin exam. I used to not care about these things, but now I've realized that there are more things in life than one's physical attributes. That's right, it's the mental. Needless to say, who wants a dumb goodlooking individual? Nobody. Well, unless if you're that old guy who died that married Anna Nicole Smith who inherited his wealth. Everything seems a-okay with me now. Life's pretty much not the fast-paced party life I used to have. But hey, people need to mature, and my time is now. All I have to do is accept it. People say that remaining positive is the best course of action. Likewise, I feel the same way. Change is a consistent variable in life. There is no other way than forward. Acceptance is the key to rev your vehicle to overdrive. Furthermore, acceptance of maturity is a highway towards success. I've got a job now. It's some secretarial type of job. I'm still going to get an orientation this Friday. The salary is $125/day. I would really want more for it. But since it's my first job here in New York, I have to settle with it. At least all I have to do is just sit for 8 hours, answer some calls and log it on the computer. Not bad for a job, eh? It's pretty much sinecure if I'll only take a few calls which I hopefully will do. Hopefully. Again, I have to take a bus to Manhattan to go to the workplace. I don't mind. I just hope that everything will go smoothly and quickly. Where is my life headed? What does the future hold for me? I reckon that these experiences' purpose go deeper than what I descry. The question is... how deep? I can't deny that I miss my old life. I've spoken to a couple of friends over the phone last night and this morning, namely Mike Mercado and Bea Benassi. New York is a cold place to be in. Sure, I have a few friends, but my friends in the Philippines are irreplacable. I cannot find a spot to be my old, jaunty self again. People here are so different. But hey, I have to live with it. Change is normal; all I have to do is accept it. It's like a bus ride and you're the bus driver. You're the only one who knows where to go and how you're going there. People enter and exit your bus at some point in time in some place; some people even stay the whole journey in that very bus. Sure there may be a few bumps along the road, but what're a few bumps for you if you want to reach your destination? Nothing. When the journey has come to a close, everybody leaves the bus, even the bus driver, to admire the scenery.

I'm Feeling Pensive

I'm feeling pensive.

I didn't know I had blue eyes... COOL!

SAT is on Saturday, I'd better RELAX.

That's right, I'd better save my energy.

I had my hair dyed, is it fetching? lol... Most say I look JapaNICE... I mean, Japanese due to the hair color.