Caustic Thoughts

Random funny thoughts with a taste of Pinoy and a hint of acid.

Facebook Yourself

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I once had the misfortune of having had to open a Friendster account for work purposes. If you think, “Well that was fun,” the nonconformist in me was not so amused. Now that the main reason for the account is no longer pressuring me to be falsely amiable and to have a pleasing personality implant, the account has retained the appeal of spit on a wad of tissue. Now I am thankfully back to brooding and plotting the sabotage of primetime telenovelas.

Then I saw him once while I was surfing the net in pathetically continuous waves of boredom and disillusionment. That smooth, pale skin; the outdated glasses and the half a coconut husk haircut diplomatically parted at the side as a compromise were unmistakably his. The air of friendly geekiness gave him away even more.

I would never admit to having a crush because I am a candidate for the yet to be established nonconformist award but he was probably the closest I could get to having one. Strangely, I married someone who is the exact opposite, one who seems more like an over grilled minion of Hades on rehabilitation than ideal husband material.

It’s been more than five years of fantastic culturally rebellious living with my buff, gruff, brown husband. Seeing the geek however has made me think for a fraction of a second of connecting with the other side. After all, they say Facebook is to basil and thyme as Friendster is to Maggi Magic Sarap. The supposedly sophisticated, some of whom have varying sizes of artificial implants, are all in Facebook. Of course, there are also genuine gems I might have the pleasure of meeting there.

I’m not sure. I’ve been getting invitations to open a Facebook account for months and every time I get one, an internal switch makes me blurt, “Facebook yourself.” The geek may not be worth the aggravation.

And the Meaning of Life Is…

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A thought came to me on a warm and unholy night as I was listening to the self-confessed miseries of an intoxicated 57 year old man. Just what do you live for when all your kids are grown up and you are all alone? What do you do when you are old and weary and you have no kids?

I know of others. At least three of them are approaching the twilight years single and unattached, having spent the duration of their lives caring and providing for their biological families. Whether their status is by design or out of necessity, I can never tell.

I am uncertain too if living mainly for others is a fact of Filipino life. I am nowhere close to unraveling the meaning of life and I suspect I would not come close even if I were also to intoxicate the very tips of my toes. But it seems a pity when one cannot live for oneself.

The spiritual are most fortunate because when the self is insufficient, there is at least a higher being.

I have nothing, nothing, nothinggggg eeeef I don’t haaave youuuuuwooo…

When Numbers Fail Me

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“Whoever said money can’t buy happiness simply didn’t know where to go shopping.”

—Bo Derek

To the utter dismay of my husband, words never failed me, but numbers always did, which allows my husband to get back at me for not failing at words by relying on my inability to compute his exact monetary worth. I wish I could use words to earn tons of cash but in the Philippines, the kind of words I excel in can only earn either impoverished fame or the ire of the politicians with the big guns.

According to CNNMoney.com, the highest paying jobs all have something to do with math skills. I hope my daughter takes after her father and finishes a course that can actually pay the monthly bills. They say money isn’t the answer to everything but it sure helps to have some.

Aquino Dies at 76

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Former president and Philippine icon of democracy Corazon “Cory” C. Aquino passed away today at 3:18 a.m. at the age of 76. She died of colon cancer.

May the nation’s mother rest in peace and may democracy live forever.

State of the President’s Emoticons

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You know you’ve grown old if you can listen to the president’s State of the Nation Address without fidgeting, yawning or thinking that there are worse things than death. You know you are older still if you can sit through the entire SONA and end up criticizing every line and facial twitch.

I discovered I’m not very old. I managed to sit through only a few snippets, those parts where she turned the other cheek and still managed to send acidic spittle via satellite towards her critics. It was like watching an ugly parade of emoticons on the president’s sleeves. Wouldn’t it be horrible to be remembered for that speech?

Then there was the usual display of colorful feathers. I suppose running a country takes more than just average gray matter and she must have done a good job making sure that those esoteric economic figures behave. I know I would not have done a better job. But sadly, the noodle eaters of Tondo cannot relate to the numbers that denote her success because they can only comprehend the presence or absence of food, their only measurement of a politician’s success.

This is why the new batch of presidential aspirants have made it a point to stress that they grew up in the slums feeding pigs, that they can give pedicab rides to the sons of vendors and that they can relate, with matching tearful looks, to the plight of the poor.

Memories of Yore: In the Days of Mailmen

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Before money transfer services and courier companies, there was only the government owned post office. I remember the days when relatives abroad used to write on folded and glued papers or greeting cards in between which were a few pieces of green paper with the faces of American presidents on them. After the “how are yous” and “happy birthdays” they’d write in convoluted, cryptic codes detailing the whereabouts of the hidden stash. Somehow, SOMEONE always found it first and we’d get mail with lots of scotch tape as if SOMEONE fed it accidentally to a pet Chihuahua with issues.

The post office always got blamed. I wonder if they really were to blame or the relatives never really sent Franklins and McKinleys.

The Death of a Croc

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Crocs
I hate them and would rather be caught with my pants down than wearing a pair of them. I did make my kid wear a pair once because there was one free white pair and she had small feet. Mine are already large and hideous and a pair of adult, multi colored, butterfly enhanced Crocs will only highlight their Hobbit-like form and my utter lack of fashion sense. Besides, the price of one pair can already buy thirty six large bottles of beer for my husband or pay for one month’s tuition for my daughter. I’d prefer the beer for my heavily insured husband or the education for my girl than crocodile feet.

But I respect your desire and right to wear them. I may not have to suffer long though at the sight of your feet. According to a report from The Washington Post, the company that manufactures Crocs may be going down the financial drain. It seems people are cutting down on expenses or simply don’t need to buy another pair when they already have one very durable pair.

I may not like them but I find this sad news. It’s always a pity when innovative people who have met with some success suddenly find themselves at the bottom of the wheel of life.

Diabetes Epidemic in the Philippines

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Fellow CDO Blogger Gabby was telling me during the dinner break from Toral’s presentation (see previous post) that I should get a second serving for the baby in my belly that had been gleefully squirming after having ingested a prohibitive dose of carbohydrates and sugar. I told him I couldn’t because a second serving of sugary goodness would push my already high sugar levels into orbit, earning for my endocrinologist an extra Php250.

Gabby’s seatmate, Mike, quipped that he met a guy from the Center for Disease Control (CDC) once. Mike opined that it seems that the Philippines is in the middle of a diabetes epidemic and proceeded to ask Mr. CDC what will be done about it. Mr. CDC answered (perhaps jokingly?) that they were going to let Filipino diabetics just die. Anyway, the country does have a population problem.

Gasp!?

The truth is that Mr. CDC’s revelation wasn’t really that shocking. It was amusing to say the least. My mother-in-law died of the complications of diabetes and it wasn’t because the CDC diabolically plotted to push her to her grave. She honestly went the way she wanted to, with a liter of coke in one hand and a platter of steaming pork and rice on the other.

Five years of living with a real Filipino family has taught me that Filipinos love booze and grub more than our impoverished existence. If you have to be in the muck and mire of a difficult reality, why not enjoy it the best way you can? Try to deprive us of simple sugars and all hell will break loose.

Digital Filipino Cagayan de Oro Networking Event

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I am not one given to human idol worship. It’s not because of my fear of being stricken dead by a bolt of lightning even if Sr._____ told me it will happen. I can’t bring myself to idolize anyone because I can’t get rid of the notion that all of us humans are equal when we sit on the toilet.

I came close to bowing in semi worship when I finally met Janette Toral last Friday. She was in CDO for a bloggers’ networking event and I skipped an hour of work just to see her.

Toral is who I want to be when I grow up (I expect to grow a few inches with all the nutrients my doctor has been shoving down my hatch). I admire her not just because she is earning legitimately online, is the veritable first lady of Philippine e-commerce and is devouring the sights and gustatory delights of the country in the course of her work. She’s one of those on top of my list because of her sense of ethics and social responsibility.

I wonder how she began her journey. After more than two years of virtual citizenship, I’m nowhere close to idol status.

*Photo by Chiq Montes

Earning Online? LOL…

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I’ve met them, the bloggers and NETrepreneurs who earn more than the manicured managers who dominate but turn with the wheels of corporate slavery. These virtual citizens who fan themselves with wads of green paper are around us and no one can tell, not even agent Smith of internal revenue.

But these folks didn’t get where they are overnight. It took most of them months and years of constipation, broken nails and bad breath (for not using their mouths often enough) to succeed online. That’s why it’s laughable when my spam box spills over with offers to teach me how to become an online millionaire in ten seconds for $49.

Fortunately, there are guys like Havi Gold who constantly remind us of reality. Every internet newbie should visit his page, itsjustaparody.com before even thinking in $ signs.