a short blurb about a not-so-old movie

I saw "Stranger Than Fiction" last Saturday (thank God for the yummy torrents scattered all over the Internet).

Like all interesting movies, it had something to do about being miserable, about being happy (happy as in getting laid kind of happy) and about death. It's one of those movies that is - uniquely - both tragedy and comedy.

On the downside, it's a movie about life told in utmost pretense (well, okay... just a little bit) and some of the characters were, somewhat, unnecessary.

Interestingly though, if I were to condense the movie into a short statement, it would have to be, "Life is a comedy, death is the punchline and tragedy just pops up randomly somewhere in between so that you can have a smoke break" (That right there is just too long to be printed on a bumper sticker, so I guess it'll stay on this post).

Anyway, don't mind what I've said. If you haven't seen it, watch it.

it has been ten days since my last post and I have this to say...

My holyweekwork went quite well. Aside form the fact that I didn't finish the work that intended to finish that weekend, the fact that my waistline increased at about half an inch from over-eating (I have a pair of shorts that wouldn't fit anymore and I'm pretty sure that I had worn it last week - so it's either my waistline increased or my pair of shorts decided to go on a diet and shrunk a couple of inches), the fact that I never left the house for about three days, the fact that I never had the chance to check my email and say "hello word!" to the friggin' Internet, the fact that "Stranger Than Fiction" was on HBO one night and I missed it because I was too busy tinkering my buggy program AND the the fact the I had diarrhea on the way back here... everything went quite well. Things could have gone much better but it only went quite well.

this holy week

Normally, Holy Week is an excuse for people in this country to go home to their hometowns OR go to popular beach resorts to celebrate in debauchery and drunkeness. I belong to the go-home-to-their-hometowns demographic, but with a twist. You see, I'm planning to bring my work with me when I get to CDO this Thursday. Instead of doing whatever it is that people do now a days during Holy Week, I plan to crucify myself on my laptop.

On second thought, I'm the type of person who never really gets work done at home no matter what - my flesh is willing by my soul is a stubborn and lazy S.O.A.B.

But we'll see. I'll post something sometime next week about this.

my first post about a dead person

Somebody I know died yesterday. I don't know why, but I just have this urge to write something about it.

A couple of days ago, the doctors said he was sick with some sort of infection. The next day, his legs started to swell and later fell on a coma. The day after that, he died. If it were a Dr. House episode, House would have cured the infection with his uncanny wit coupled with large doses of brutal sarcasm. However, we all know that real life is more sadistic and brutal than good 'ol Dr. House. Down here, people actually die and nobody gets to look cool afterwards.

And so, we(the ones left behind) wonder about this "place" where people "go" when they die. Since mortality is such a tough thing for any modern human being to accept, we can't help but hope that we'd somehow "go somewhere nice" when we die - just to make whatever time we have left a little bit more comforting. Because like it or not, we're all next.


Rest in Peace TA.

obviously, this has something to do with elevators

I have been standing on the elevator lobby for about thirty seconds before I realized that elevator doors don't open by themselves - they're dependable machines that require human intervention AND that dependability is directly proportional to the intervening-human's intellect. So, I pushed the down button while mentally laughing at myself for having accomplished such a remarkably idiotic feat.

I've been on several elevator bloopers before: pushing the wrong floor number; wondering why the elevator isn't moving and then realizing that I hadn't pushed any button at all; getting off on the wrong floor. This recent incident is the fourth. I wonder if there's going to be a fifth and if whether or not it would involve gravity. Heh.