Watch Me Entertain Myself!

Sacha Guitry once said, "You can pretend to be serious, but you can't pretend to be witty." Oh yes, I'm the great pretender.
(pilot episode: 20 January 2004)

Monday, January 31, 2011

Who’s Afraid Of VD?

Yes, I will admit there was a time when I felt bitter at the couples who would look forward to Valentine’s Day. That was back in the mid-90s; burnt out by the rat race, I resigned from the ad agency and went back to my first love, theater. I was doing one production after the next with the college theater group I grew up with, and I was surrounded by college kids and their raging hormones. (Sadly) I wasn’t savvy enough to take advantage of those hormones at that time; I was just happy to be seen as a “kuya” to them. (Yeah, yeah, so sue me.) They would seek my advice when it came to love problems. And boy, were they always in love.

I remember one time we were all backstage, and Valentine’s was fast approaching. We had a couple of pretty single ladies who were putting up a brave front, trying to remain unaffected by the the fact that they had no dates on that date. But they were no match for those who were planning--and broadcasting their plans!--for Feb. 14. So one day they decided that, since they had no dates for Valentine’s, they’d have a ladies’ night instead.

Excited, they invited me to join them for that night. I immediately saw an opportunity; within the theater group, the singles far outnumbered the couples. Why not have all the singles go out and have a party of our own on Feb. 14? And to further drum up excitement, we decided to name it the Indians VD Party. (Why Indians? We came up with a code, calling couples “Cowboys” and singles--or individuals--as “Indians.” Silly stuff, really.)

We decided to spend the night at Shakey’s, where we could order heart-shaped pizzas then wolf them down. The first Indians VD Party had around 20+ participants; as an alumnus and (supposedly) part of the work force, I volunteered to foot a portion of the total bill (the moderator paid for the other portion).

So it became this yearly tradition, this Indians Party. The Cowboys got wind of how much fun the Indians were having, and in the following years some of the Cowboys would change their VD plans and join the Indians instead. After several years the Indians realized that the lines had blurred too much. And a few years ago they halted the tradition.

Ever since the first Indians VD Party, I never dreaded the red-letter date ever again. I would dread the stressful traffic, the silly heart-shaped pizzas and the full restaurants. But I’ve always had wonderful dates during Feb. 14; if the evening’s not spent with my rowdy and funny friends, then I’d have an indulgent date with myself. I make it a point that the day is filled with love.

But ironically this year is the first VD that I’m kinda stressing out a bit. Good lord, the expectations! Hahaha. Oh well.

I. Won’t. Feel. Any. Prey-shyure. Rayt. Naw.

Thursday, January 27, 2011

Big Bad Follow-Up

After I uploaded my “Big Bad Blogger” post, I got a comment from Ms. Chuniverse:

“Market Manila also mentioned about his horrible experience with a PR/Media Firm(?) called Mad Crowd Media:

Now, i noticed that in your blog, there is a link to Mad Crowd Media's website, but the site is no longer functioning i guess. Do you know them?

I know you are a media practitioner, and i think you are the right person to ask this, my question is do some media outfit really practice that way?”

* * * * *

Yes, I am part of the Mad Crowd Media, in a sense that I was included in their roster, and I have their logo in my blog. Am I an active member? No.

Several years ago I was approached by them; they asked if I want to be part of a group of bloggers who can be called upon to write blog entries for new products, services and events. I’ll get invited to launches and such, I’ll write about it, and I’ll get paid for my efforts. I thought, why not?

My understanding was that we can write anything that we felt was right for us. So if I had a great time, I can write a glowing blog entry; if I had a negative experience, I can write truthfully about it, but knowing us Filipinos we’d spin it into a “how-to-improve” angle. The payment was for my efforts to attend and write; what I will write about, though, is totally up to me. At least, that’s how I understood the arrangements with MCM.

So I signed up, and I got to place the MCM logo on my blog. I remember being asked to write about something, I don’t remember now, but I did receive a letter very similar to what Market Manila received. I remember the “fee” I would receive was minimal, that’s why I treated it as more of an honorarium. I remember being advised that my payment was ready, and that I could pick it up at the MCM office. I kept postponing passing by for it. Eventually I just forgot all about it.

To this day I’ve not received another invite by MCM to any launch event or opening.

Do I know the people behind MCM? Honestly, no. I do know a couple or so bloggers in the MCM roster. I have yet to personally know of a blogger who was paid specifically by MCM to write a favorable entry.

Did MCM bamboozle bloggers into doing paid endorsements? I cannot say; I never got to talk to the other bloggers about MCM. Do I feel bamboozled? Nope. As I said, they never specifically instructed me to only write a favorable slant for a product. So I still felt that I had the final say on what I was going to post.

In principle, will I agree to be paid for writing a favorable review? Nope, because that would mean I’d become a paid hack. Make me an employee of your company first, then I’ll write the most glowing reviews of our product.

Will I agree to be paid for writing a review, favorable or otherwise? That would mean I’d be treated as a professional critic; and I must first earn the right to be one. I am not a professional critic, nor do I want to be one. Let that be the turf of Gibbs Cadiz and his ilk. I prefer my blog musings to be just mere opinions of an ordinary blogger. That’s why I shy away from accepting paid reviews.

I am not sure what Chuniverse is referring to when he said “media outfit.” Is he referring to Mad Crowd Media? Or ad agencies? Or advertisers (like Nestle and the like)? In Market Manila’s account, it seems clear that the ad agency and the client both did not condone the paid endorsement approach. I can understand that; no agency or client will allow themselves to be publicly known as paying newspaper writers and bloggers for favorable articles. That’s payola, and it’s frowned upon.

But make no mistake: payola does exist. It exists because someone insists on asking for money, and someone condones the giving of money. It exists because someone insists on paying for favorable reviews, and someone accepts such money and writes the favorable reviews. If professional writers and editors accept payola, why can’t bloggers?

Do I know the identity of Big Bad Blogger? I don’t nor do I care to know. My brother’s the foodie in the family, not me. =)

Wednesday, January 26, 2011

Big Bad Blogger

Who’s afraid of the Big Bad Blogger?

When Margaux Salcedo’s online article appeared on Philippine Daily Inquirer’s site, it sent bloggers all a-twitter. After all, the charges were incendiary: a PR firm ominously called The Firm “employs” influential bloggers (like the Big Bad Blogger) to make or break restaurants. This fact, according to the article, has restaurant owner “Georgia” shaking in her apron.


Miss Georgia, why are you afraid of the Big Bad Blogger? You shouldn’t be. If your restaurant and food are topnotch, then they will speak for themselves. Besides, you already had several favorable reviews from the legitimate press. Word of mouth is word of mouth, whether done online, in print, or in its original form, orally. And the best word of mouth happens when your food is so good, people will recommend your restaurant to anyone they know. So Miss Georgia, if I were you, I’d be more afraid of getting that dory overcooked or serving the creamer cold instead of heated. A paid blogger, no matter how influential he/she is, is no match for great food. And an influential blogger, if he/she is smart enough, will stick to the truth to safeguard his/her reputation (and most probably will not agree to be under The Firm’s payroll).

It is interesting that Margaux’s article focused only on food bloggers. It is interesting because, according to her, these food bloggers seem to have taken it into their heads that they are that influential. To quote: “Food bloggers, especially, were revered as reliable sources because they were perceived to be independent of any influence, paying for their own meals and untouched by PR firms.” Really? Dear Mr. or Ms. Big Bad Food Blogger, you may have a thousand followers, but do you honestly think that all those followers are really mindless, fawning fans who will agree to any and everything that you say? I think not.

Dear The Firm, this democracy of free thinking applies also to other categories, not just food. Not all influential bloggers will agree on everything. Not all influential bloggers can be bought. And not all readers will agree on everything that influential bloggers say. I bet you someone will disagree with me regarding this issue.

And Ms. Margaux, please deflate yourself. The blogging community IS NOT the one last community that we could rely on for the truth, winking at the Sunday Inquirer Magazine aside. A lot of blog readers are themselves bloggers, and the longer they stay online, the more they realize never to always trust everything that’s out there. It is as true for reviews on food blogs as they are stats and torso pics on social hook-up sites.

Besides, bloggers and readers are on to PR fluff. It’s the same way that ordinary citizens are on to advertising; if they try the product and get disappointed, the next time they see the commercial they’ll go, “Ows? Hindi naman totoo yan eh!” My younger brother trawls food blogs, looking for new places to try. But no matter how glowing the blog write-up is, if he is disappointed by the food or service, he’s the first to say, “Mukhang bayad lang pala yung blogger na yun.

So who’s afraid of the Big Bad Blogger? Could it be just Ms. Margaux herself, with BBB in her turf?

Death Be Not Proud

Clint Eastwood has cemented his reputation as the director whose films are such downers, they often end with one or more lead characters dead by the time “The End” flashes onscreen. Unforgiven, check. Mystic River, check. Million Dollar Baby, a million checks. Gran Torino, a grand check. Even The Bridges of Madison County ends with the characters played by Meryl Streep and Clint Eastwood dying an emotional death when they separate. Let’s face it, what make Clint’s day are death, depression and a dirge for the closing credits.

So what happens when Mister Death directs a movie for Mister Sunshine-and-Happy-Endings Steven Spielberg? Seems like Spielberg asked Eastwood, “After all those deaths, what comes after?” The result is Hereafter. One can imagine Spielberg telling Eastwood, “Let’s get the most morbid, most downer of a topic--death!--and let’s make a feel-good movie about it.” Except after watching it, we the audience all died just a bit.

It’s not the worst movie you’ll ever see. But yes, it’s that feel-good movie that makes you feel bad afterwards--bad for the actors, the director and, ultimately, the paying audience. Watching it approximates a near-death experience.

To be fair, Eastwood sets up rather well the separate stories of a French female news anchor who gets swept away by the Indian Ocean tsunami, a British boy whose earlier-by-a-few-minutes twin gets hit by a truck, and an American psychic who connects easily with the dead but not with the living. The tsunami scene is stunning and gripping. The background story of the twins is so engaging, when the accident happens your heart breaks. And the scenes with Matt Damon as the psychic and Bryce Dallas Howard as the girl who falls for him have a crackling vibrancy, thanks mostly to Howard’s ditzy, needy portrayal.

But unfortunately the disparate scenes all lead up to a clumsy and almost contrived convergence. And in the end, with all the hugs and kisses, one asks, “Is that it?”

Memo to Mr. Eastwood: Death becomes you. Hereafter, do stick to depressing films.

Tuesday, January 25, 2011


“Why live life from dream to dream? And dread the day when dreaming ends.”
-- “One Day I’ll Fly Away,” Nicole Kidman

Someone asked me in Formspring about giving up on dreams. Apparently he has invested so much time and energy to become a nurse; unfortunately, nowadays it’s so difficult to get into a hospital if one doesn’t have a backer. After several unsuccessful attempts, he is on the verge of giving up being a nurse.

Ever since we were young we’ve been taught to dream. “What do you want to be when you grow up?” is a question adults ask kids all the time. In my time the popular answer would be “astronaut” or “pilot” or “doctor.” We either pursue those childhood dreams or, as I suspect almost all of us do, we’d toss them aside for newer dreams.

When I was in high school, I wanted to become a film director. That determined my choice of course for college. Since there was no film course in my college, I took up Communication Arts instead. I thought having a broader background will be advantageous for me in the long run because I’d develop other skills as well as get exposed to other forms of media.

True enough, after college I applied to film companies, but none were responding. So I tried television networks, but got zilch too. Radio stations didn’t respond also. In the end, I ended up working for theater at the CCP. Then I moved to advertising, where I stayed for more than 5 years. Finally I was able to join ABS-CBN in 2000. In my stint there I was also exposed to Star Cinema and its big bosses. After 6 years there I went back to advertising. Now I’m working for another network. And in all those years of work, the closest thing I did to being a director was to produce TV plugs. As a writer/producer of plugs, I would sometimes need to shoot talents. In doing so, I get to call out “Rolling!” and “Action!” and “Cut!”

Throughout the years after graduation I would take stock of where I am and inevitably I would ask that one difficult question I had for myself: “What about my dream of becoming a film director?” At first my answers came easily, almost glibly: “I still have more time.” “I’m still amassing experience and savings.” “I’m still enjoying myself in what I’m currently doing.” But the older I get, the more I had to confront the issue head-on; I was not getting any younger.

Finally I had to ask myself: “Do I still want to be a film director?” Because if I really, really wanted to be one, I wouldn’t have wasted all this time. I would have made use of the contacts and connections that I had. I would have been more focused. I would have been that driven. But I wasn’t. Why is that so? I had to ask myself. Maybe that dream was more wishful thinking. Maybe I came up with that dream not knowing what it entailed. And when I found out what being a director entails (long hours, a million-and-one details and headaches to attend to, all that responsibility on one’s shoulders), I had to ask myself again: “Is that what I really want?”

So when finally I “let go” of my dream, it wasn’t without much fanfare, nor much pain. (Well, okay, okay, full disclosure: I cheated. I kinda didn’t fully let go. I just told myself, “Well, maybe not now. But given all these indie films cropping up, it’s not inconceivable that I’ll end up directing a short indie film in the future. Maybe in the future.”)

What I realized is this: My career path may look accidental, but my success in whatever I did is no accident. I make it a point to always do my best in whatever I get myself into. That means learning new things and getting along with people. So I got to amass experience and knowledge while building up a wider network.

I learned early on that one dream may not be enough. Dreams can also change, because people change. Human beings are resilient. And we are never satisfied; we always seek for something more. Boredom and stagnation are for those who never have lived.

So I told Nurse-Wannabe: There's nothing wrong with back-up plans, alternative careers and change of plans. And who knows? You might get into the nursing profession thru a different route. Or you might end up living an even more interesting life.

I always keep in mind the following cliches: Life is not a problem to be solved but a mystery to be lived. The best-laid plans of mice and men oft go awry. Don’t sweat the small stuff. Enjoy living; Life is the greatest adventure.

“Have you any dreams you’d like to sell?
Dreams of Loneliness, like a heartbeat drives you mad,
in the stillness of remembering
what you had, and what you lost.”

-- “Dreams,” Fleetwood Mac

Wednesday, January 19, 2011

I Like “I Write Like”

When I found out about the site I Write Like, I was curious to know which famous author’s writing style was most similar to mine. Looking through my recent entries, I chose “Reunion (Of The Snake Is On The Climb)” for its brevity. And the result was this:

I write like
Dan Brown

I Write Like by Mémoires, journal software. Analyze your writing!

I must admit I prefer a Savage more than a Brown, but then again the latter’s the richer one. Damn! I should start generating thrillers about the Spanish friars and Rizalistas and sell the movie rights to the highest bidder.

But I also realize that I don’t have one particular style of writing. The above example is me writing in a more serious-than-usual tone (apparently, I am capable of becoming serious once in a while). But what about my not-so-serious entries?

So I went back to my blog and chose “Atomic Reaction”, again for its brevity more than any other consideration. (My other consideration was to avoid entries with a lot of Taglish usage.) And look what came out:

I Write Like by Mémoires, journal software. Analyze your writing!

Huh? Who is David Foster Wallace? I wiki’ed him and found out that he’s a celebrated writer who--oops!--committed suicide in 2008 due to depression. He is most famous for his 1996 novel “Infinite Jest.” According to Wikipedia, his fiction is often concerned with irony, something I also am fond of. Wallace is also a fellow Piscean, unless one now follows the new zodiac, in which case he isn’t anymore, but who cares? Anyway, we’re mimicking writing styles, not lifestyles, so there.


So which famous writer you write like?

Tuesday, January 18, 2011

The Buzz On The Green Hornet

The Green Hornet for me was a delightful surprise. At first one would think that the choice of Seth Rogen, a comedian, is a counter-intuitive choice to play Britt Reid, the son of a newspaper magnate. But then I found out that Rogen is also a co-writer and co-producer of the movie, so there.

What could have been a vanity piece instead turns out to be a comedic reworking of the classic 70s TV series that lovingly tips its hat off to the series while re-examining and reworking it for today’s audience.

Along the way the filmmakers also had a field day playing around with the whole hero-and-sidekick convention. Batman and Robin, Green Hornet and Kato, Hans Solo and Chewbacca... comic books, TV and movies are full of tandems. What fuels and sustains such tandems? Why do two grown men stick around with each other? In the recent reboot of pop-culture icons such as Star Trek, the filmmakers didn’t shy away from playing around with the “bromance” between Kirk and Doc McCoy as well as Kirk and Mr. Spock. In The Green Hornet, the bromance is more than highlighted; it is front and center of what drives the plot and the characters. And it makes for a hilarious running gag.

Rogen and director Michel Gondry also keep the fun and the funny coming, with winks to the original Hornet (Jay Chou, who plays Kato, is shown making sketches of Bruce Lee, who played Kato in the original series) and the silly conventions of superhero films. But the filmmakers don’t mock the silliness; rather, they acknowledge it.

They also upend the secondary status of sidekick Kato. Unlike Bruce Lee, Chou’s Kato is a lot more important in the team-up, even if he continues to walk behind Rogen. Kato’s the really brains and brawn behind the team. And Chou’s also my new eye candy and crush. His sleepy-looking singkit eyes are totally adorable. And he’s cuter when he kicks ass.

The Green Hornet is an unexpectedly fun movie, smartly funny and funnily smart. It’s not the best action movie out there, but given the movie choices coming out, it won’t hurt you to go Green.

Tuesday, January 11, 2011

Atomic Reaction

The scene: in a hallway in Trinoma Mall. The time: around 8pm. The cast: Tony, London_boy, Jonas Bagas and yours truly.

We just finished dinner and were now headed for the theaters to watch Little Fockers. We were discussing something serious, you know, like maybe the latest rise in HIV cases or the Metro Manila traffic situation after the holidays or how a bikini contest can boost business. Whatever it was, it was serious—though I now forget.

So anyway we were talking…

“Serious talk, serious talk, serious talk, serious talk…”

…when suddenly all four of us noticed a tall, somewhat serious-looking guy walking towards us, his gaze off to his right. His once lanky frame has filled up nicely, and his 5-o’clock shadow looked so sexy on his handsome, boyish features.

“...serious talk, seri—”

We all stopped talking at the same time. Recognition sank in.

Oh. My. God.

Without glancing our way, he walked past us.

“Atom Araullo!”

Between the four of us, we’ve put up successful businesses, worked overseas, helped push legislation and oversaw multimedia campaigns. And yet, as Tony tweeted, we were reduced to giggling schoolgirls at the sight of the former 5 and Up talent.


We continued giggling and laughing and walking for about five minutes then I asked, “Hey! What were we discussing kanina?” No one could answer.

And as you can see earlier in this entry, we still don’t remember.

An Open Letter (2)

When D first met me, he had no idea I blogged. I appreciated him more when he saw me for who I am and not “McVie the blogger.” I did not choose D because of who I am; I chose him because of who he is. And I am very much pleased with him, so there.

Monday, January 10, 2011

An Open Letter (1)

To those who attended the Fabcasters’ party and stayed up until 3am onwards, the following is recounted here to explain once and for all what happened.

The Facebook invite stated that the party was “from 8pm to 3am.” So around 3am several guys from the front desk came knocking on suite 816. Tony talked to them first.

Apparently there is a hotel rule regarding guests. The suite can accommodate a maximum of six overnight occupants; the occupants will be charged extra for every guest who stays beyond 1am. Unfortunately we were not made aware of that rule. (Or no one checked the house rules.)

Tony approached me; we decided to wake Migs up (who had gone to sleep early) because the room was booked under his name. The three of us agreed that we should just let the hotel do the headcount, and in the morning Migs will sort things out. Migs went back to sleep.

The headcount totaled 53 guests. Tony asked them if they could waive the extra charges if we offered to halt the party right there and then and ask our guests to leave. They replied that they would still charge us nonetheless. So we requested that they just allow us to let our guests stay, but we’d minimize our noise level. They agreed.

When they left, we thought that was that. Tony proceeded to his room to sleep. D and I said our goodbyes to those who were staying.

When D and I stepped out to head for the elevator, the reception guys were back. They asked me to sign the hotel invoice acknowledging that there were 53 guests in the room and that the total amount of extra charges was Php97,000++. The amount took me by surprise. It was Php1,800++ per guest.

D was indignant. He told me not to sign anything, or at least let Migs be the one to sign (perhaps he thought that the act of signing was a tacit agreement to pay the amount). Maybe because D was already agitated, I chose to adopt a calmer disposition and tone. I pointed out to the reception guys that I was signing on behalf of Migs just to acknowledge the fact that there were 53 guests in the room and that we were being billed extra for them. But I also told them that Migs was going to contest that in the morning. Had we been informed of the 1am cut-off time, we would have asked people to leave as early as 12:30am. I also gently reminded them that we offered to leave but were told we’d be charged nevertheless.

Luckily the reception guys had already consulted their supervisor, and they informed me that their supervisor agreed to waive the extra charges if we halted the party and the guests leave. They offered to give us an hour to vacate the suite; I told them we can do it in 30 minutes.

And that’s why I ended up addressing the crowd for a second time that night.

D and I left, along with most of the guests. Some guests remained, but they became Tony’s headache afterwards. (I swear, had I been in Tony’s shoes, I’d have charged those guests 1,800++ for being bullheaded!)

Friday, January 07, 2011

Reunion (Of The Snake Is On The Climb!)*

I went to a mini-reunion with my high school classmates last night. Two of our classmates were in town for that rare, once-every-several-years visit to the homeland for the holidays, so it was a perfect excuse to get together.

We noticed that whenever we have these reunions, we inevitably bring up the same stories and the same jokes. It can’t be helped; as we grow older, we grow closer with some and apart with most. While we do update each other with where we are now, it’s the back-stories and the shared past that bind us still; or rather, they almost surely are the default binders. Our future can push us even further apart; if our present efforts aren’t enough to bind us together, then we’ll always have the past as a comfortable crutch.

But yes, it is just a crutch, because people do move on. There are those who, for one reason or another, cut themselves off from their past (usually they’re the ones who don’t attend reunions). There are those whose present is so dramatically different from their past that the latter is rendered obsolete. And then there are those who are presently rewriting their past.

Happily, the people who were there last night had no major problems with their past, busy with their present, and still eager to create a better future for themselves and their loved ones. Surprisingly, the old jokes cropped up just as we were about to end the night. I guess old stories and old jokes really do get old.

Even as a group, we’re making our present our future past.

* * * * *

*(If you got that reference, you ARE a child of the 80s.)

Wednesday, January 05, 2011

Life Is Random

My friend’s taste in sex is very vanilla, and his sexual history can clearly be classified as low-risk; yet he tested positive for HIV. Meanwhile I’ve had multiple partners, engaged in unprotected sex many times before (in an era where it was known as “AIDS” more than “HIV” and the virus was considered “a white man’s disease”), and yet in my second test I came out non-reactive. Life is unfair.

Yet for every injustice, there is that honest cab driver who would rather return a bagful of money to its rightful owner than keep it to feed his family. There is a multi-millionaire who pledged to give away half of his wealth over the course of his lifetime. Life is just, it seems.

Life is filled with random acts of kindness as well as random acts of cruelty. For every deliberate, well-executed plan there are, as Robert Burns says, “the best-laid plans of mice and men (that) oft go awry.” For all of Life’s randomness, there seems to be that yin-yang quality of the Universe, that for each action there is an equal and opposite reaction. And maybe that is why we can never have Good without the Bad. Heaven cannot exist without its dark reflection, Hell. Hope blooms more brightly in a desert of despair.

We all have a choice which side we want to eventually fall under. Of course, making a choice is different from actually making good on that choice. In reality, we ping-pong from one side to the other; sometimes we even straddle both sides at the same time. But the side in which you prefer to stay on is what will eventually define who you are, and whether people will remember you as a “good” or “bad” person.

In the end it boils down to choice. And choice should never be random.

* * * * *

Erratum: When I first posted this, I mistakenly mentioned John Steinbeck as the author of the "of mice and men" quote. The author is Robert Burns, and the line is from his poem "To A Mouse." John Steinbeck used the phrase as the title of his novel.

Tuesday, January 04, 2011

The Loneliness Fabcast, Parts One & Two

“My loneliness is killing me...” sang Britney Spears. And so, ooops! The Fabcasters did it again. We decided to record a Fabcast on the topic of loneliness.

Every year the Christmas season brings with it cold winds and even colder emotions. Christmas seems to be the time to swallow (all that food) and wallow (in all that emo-ness). This year is no different. As early as November Migs noticed an increase in letter senders bemoaning their lonely status for Christmas. Even a local commercial made use of the term SMP (Samahan ng mga Malamig ang Pasko). And while we rarely hear about it, an increase in depression and suicide is often recorded in December.

So as a fitting end to 2010, the Fabcasters gathered once more to record a two-part series.

Due to technical difficulties encountered by yours truly, the production of this particular Fabcast was not done using the usual equipment, from recording to editing. Also, the period in between Christmas and New Year was a very busy one for me. These would partially explain why there was a considerable delay in the release of the second and last part.

This is why I decided to just post both parts here at the same time. Those who (for some weird reason or another) just check out the Fabcasts only through my blog (why, I have no idea!) will be able to download and listen to the two-parter without experiencing considerable delay in between parts.

Part One

Download this Fabcast (right click and save)

Music credits:
“Kumukutikutitap” by San Miguel Master Chorale and Philharmonic Orchestra
“Pasko Na, Sinta Ko” by San Miguel Master Chorale and Philharmonic Orchestra
“The Loneliest Person I Know” by Splender
“Eternal Flame” by The Bangles

Part Two

Download this fabcast (right click and save)

Music credits:
“Lonely Is The Night” by Air Supply
“Wannabe” by The Spice Girls
“Loneliness Knows Me By Name” by Westlife

Saturday, January 01, 2011


Christmas was a time to reflect on 2010. Now that it's the new year, it's the perfect time to look forward to the year that will be.

Funny thing though, I gave up making new year's resolutions a long time ago.

I've learned that while planning is great, knowing when to just let things unfold has its own merits. And often, the universe has a way of unfolding that not only will surprise you but delight you as well. It is not about changing the world; rather, it is changing your mindset. It's not about bending the world to your will, but broadening your mind to the world--and to a world of possibilities. It is not about resignation but more of acceptance (yes Virginia, there is a world of difference between the two).

May the new year be the source of happiness and joy to us all.