How a Couch Potato Celebrates Life  

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For as long as I can remember, this small piece of Internet space has so often been my place of refuge, my fortress of solitude so to speak. This is where I dump all my pent-up emotions, mixed in with the mushy, the mundane, and the malevolent hodge-podge of feelings that this humble author experiences every now and then. And I'll say it again - often.

This time however, I am here to simply make my declaration of how awesome life is. I rarely get that feeling where I just want to climb Everest and thank God personally for giving me such a good life. I realized today that there are so many things that I should be grateful for. I have friends and family close by, and even though there are times when we don't always seem to get along, I appreciate the fact that they have stood by me through thick and thin. Right now I'm leaning towards "thick", because I just finished a bag of chips and some soda all by myself while watching Megan Fox bounce around in the desert in a dirty spaghetti strap tube top. Hello calories.

Things seem to be finally looking
up for you now Binchee!
Another happy bullet in my gratitude checklist is the fact that I have a job. Not only do i have a job, I am also proud to say that I seem to be in an excellent position to prove my worth and go places in this gig. For once, I can truthfully say that I love what I do for a living. I can almost hear Lady Opportunity moaning softly at my bedside. 

There are so many other things that I want to thank my Creator for, but I just don't want to be splitting hairs here. I'll just sum them all up with this: I am happy to be alive. All the life experiences I've had in the past - good or bad - have brought me to where I am now, and I am just starting to appreciate that fact. If not for all the trials and dead ends that I've run into before, I wouldn't have learned how to get here in the first place. So thank you oh Omnipotent One for the gift of life, good health and free will, and for Your continuous guidance.

Whatever life had me take, I'm loving the rush right now. I gotta say, this high is so much better than what any god-forsaken drug can give, and I ain't planning on getting off this happy train just yet. 

No sir, no.


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I stood there watching from atop the third floor balcony of the apartment. A swarm of dragonflies hovered playfully through the tree branches and power lines across from where I stood, while the rest of the world went about their everyday business on the busy streets below.

As I flicked the burnt cigarette butt out onto the street, I realized how high the dragonflies were flying. With nothing but their flimsy little wings propelling them, the tiny little creatures seemed to float effortlessly through the maze of tree limbs and power lines. It reminded me of how hard work and determination can propel us to those proverbial greater heights, regardless of how small we think we are in this world. 

Sometimes we feel that in the grand scheme of things, we don't mean much. We can feel insignificant, unimportant. There are days when you just want to end it all and start over. Sadly, there are no take-backs and start-overs in this game. We just have to play on and keep working our way up. Then one day you look down to see how high you've flown, and the realization hits you. You are not as insignificant as you thought you were. You have talent, You have skills. You mean something in this world after all.

 I look down and I see that I have come a long way. I light another cigarette, and take in the view.

Rock And Roll, Mother Father!  

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The title of this post is the by-line of one my closest friends at work, who was unceremoniously shown the way out last night. Consider this post as both a tribute to a fallen colleague and a lesson in fair play.

He was a colleague, a friend, a rock star, a comedian, a dancer, and a drinking buddy. More importantly, he was a brother. In the few short months that we've known each other, he had already been there for me through thick and thin, whether we've had a few hours of sleep or not, drunk or sober, allergy or no allergy. Along with two of our other friends, the four of us soon formed what was arguably the closest bond among all of the trainees in our class. In fact, we even went out to have a few beers right on the very first day of training, where we all had just met for the first time. Now, there's hardly anything that we don't know about each other, and we accept each other's faults and imperfections. Plus, two of the top graduates during our time in training emerged from this awesome foursome, which is why it saddens me to think that the group that I had been so used to seeing nearly every god-forsaken day will be missing a considerably integral member.

I will be one of the first to admit that he wasn't exactly employee-of-the-month material. On the outside, he didn't seem to take his responsibilities at work seriously. He was always goofing around. But when it came to the nitty-gritty, he pulled through and proved that he deserved to be in the company. Well at least to me, he did. I saw how he improved in his performance at work, and how he began feeling good about resolving technical issues for strangers who call from the other side of the planet.

Sadly, the damage has apparently already been done. The powers that be have determined that they had already accumulated sufficient reason to graciously show him the door, pulling him out in the middle of the shift and escorting him out of the premises. I understand that rules are rules, and that violation of said rules will lead to termination. I just wished they had shown more consideration. I mean, he wasn't THAT bad. Some of his errs are those that could have only been afforded a warning and a stern talking-to. At least that's what the other teachers did. There's a difference between strictly enforcing the rules and trying to make a name for yourself. Respect is earned. It is never borne out of fear and intimidation.

But what can we do, right?

I just wish that he can forget about this entire ordeal and move on. I believe that he should take the lessons of professionalism with him and bring them over to much greener pastures. I hope he can see the silver lining in this dark situation, and be able to use this experience as a way for him to become a better person. So until we meet again, my brother, have a cold one on me. You will never be forgotten.
Rock and roll mother father!


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Three... two... one! Just as the last few seconds of the fourth quarter of the season's final game ticked away, I let loose a tough fade-away three-point shot from left field that burned the net at the buzzer, which gave the Boston Celtics a resounding come-from-behind victory over the Miami Heat in Game 7 of the 2011 NBA Finals. 

Okay fine. So it was more like a pick-up game that was played on a roadside basketball court located along one of the more highly-traversed thoroughfares in the city of Manila. It wasn't the NBA Finals either, but I did get to hit a game-winner, and it felt awesome!  _\m/ 

The last time I played ball was a couple of months ago, when I participated in our church's annual sportsfest. We lost then, and I only scored a solitary undergoal stab off of a looseball scuffle. Before that, I seriously can't remember when I last shot hoops with anybody. So it was kind of a pleasant surprise for me to see that somehow, after all these years of keeping my big fat behind tucked snugly inside swivel chair after swivel chair, I still have "the touch". As conceited as that might sound, one would have to understand that I am nowhere near optimal playing shape, and that I am way, way past my prime. So for me to be able to shoot that proficiently this late in the game is in itself a huge achievement. It took a while for me to get a feel of the shot, but when we started running all over the place I felt like I was 23 again. Well, at least for a few seconds I did. Then the reality of it all hit me like an elbow to the breadbasket, and I realized I was having trouble catching my breath after a few plays. It almost made me think about quitting smoking. Almost. 

Here's to what is hopefully the beginning of a resurgence in my interest in sports. Now if I could only stop my leg from cramping up.

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Stories from the Simian Crease by Binchee is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 Philippines License.
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