A Good Yarn

I was supposed to make my way to Deovir along Recto, the default art store for geezer-artists like myself since the Marcos era. I'd buy what I needed, hop into a cab and rush to the Ortigas area. At about this time, I would be in tmy building, at the elevator, waiting to share a ride with my friend, Kai. I'd get off at the 12th floor and casually walk down two flights of stairs (praying I wouldn't get clumsy, fall and break something) to my office on the 10th.

But that isn't happening today.

Because watching William Shatner on Boston Legal is such a compelling thing.  I'm a sucker for a good story, William Shatner and old movie footage near-seamlessly integrated into a show.  Get yourselves a copy of the Season 3 episode Son of the Defender. You'll see what I mean. 

I just wish coming to work a minute late didn't cost me a crapload of cash, though. But as I'm a teller of yarns, I'm always a sucker for a good one.     

A Seven. Finally

Melanie is a nurse who has had me as an Engrish teacha for a couple of months now. She broke the infamous IELTS glass ceiling recently and garnered for herself the magic score. 

This pretty much makes 

1. my waking with a stiff neck and aching shoulder;
2. my traveling in a semi-stupor today; 
3. not seeing my friends from the 20th floor today

worth it.

Now if I can only stay coherent for the rest of the day, I should be fine. 

Quo Vadis, Dex?

Success 

Finally finished that draft I’ve been slaving over on and off the last six or so months. I just hope I don’t wuss out and change it again before I finally have it sent.

Hermit 

If you cannot invest in a spiritual refuge, invest in a physical one. Security and complacency will not necessarily follow, but at least you’ll have one contingency covered. 

Zombie: Been There, Done That, Ate Brains

I'm way past that point when you wake up and realize that you've been one for the longest time. You realize that you've walked around with a gaping (figurative) chest cavity and infected everyone else with terminal ennui and existential angst. 

The question now is what you do about it, when traditionally, there's no real cure for zombie-ism.

[Insert how much you miss your ex here. No, still no reconciliation in sight, there will never probably be one.  One caveat though: it does get better, even if only in tiny little bits, over time.]

I Saw No Zombies

...but there's always next year. (I've always found them charming in a camp way, you see.) I did see my dead relatives (and those who survived them) when Mom decided to shanghai me on her road trip with Pop to Batangas. Saw granny on my mother's side on the trip back. I must have been on the road for a total of seven or eight hours.

I'll be making a few more road trips as Christmas approaches. Quo vadis, indeed, Dex? I don't know, I've only got the most vague plans. But that's what makes these lifelong road trips fun.