The Spotless Mind

I am Json and I am obsessive-compulsive.

Although I do not click on the light switch three times before I leave the house, nor do I avoid cracks on pavements, I am still not that different from the Jack Nicholson character in As Good As It Gets. One weird thing that I do when I get bored is that I try to organize stuff in my room. It’s always a cathartic experience whenever I arrange things. I feel like my life is back in order immediately after.

People close to me know that I have three things in abundance: books, videos, and clothes. Since I just arranged my shirts by color the other day, I moved to my other closet and saw that I have stacks of DVDs and books that I have not touched in months. Some of these things are gifts that I received last Christmas and they’re still wrapped in plastic. If I read 1 book every two weeks and watch 1 DVD every day, it would still take a lifetime to go through all of these. Here are the pictures to prove it:

I don’t even consider these as collections since most are impulse buys from random sales. And yes, the boxes contain even more books and DVDs (mostly pirated, sorry VRB) and each box probably contains 150 movies and 10 books each.

My inner O.C. wants to rearrange everything alphabetically per genre but my sensible side knows it will take an entire day to do that. I want to give some of these out but most of them are gifts and I would never do that (no matter how much I dislike something).

What to do, what to do…

I am getting removed from people’s lives!!

I texted three people earlier and all of them replied with the most annoying response you can get, “Hus dis?” Forget the fact that they couldn’t text properly (pet peeve: garbled text messages), I was surprised to know that I wasn’t even on their phonebooks. All of them gave the requisite alibi: “My phone was attacked by the Y2K8 Virus so I had to reformat my phone.” Lame.

Hey, I may not be the best friend one can have but my name and number at least merits a space on a SIM card. If people are getting tired of my pathetic quotes and forwarded messages, then the proper thing to do is to tell me nicely. The only valid reasons for someone to delete my number are: 1) I did something wrong to that person, and 2) I didn’t call back after a wild night, haha.

Besides, there’s no reason to delete numbers of enemies. It’s better to keep their names so you can screen their messages and phone calls.

Hmmm, I am an a-hole. No wonder I get deleted.

People come up with all sorts of things to celebrate. I passed by a local bakeshop earlier and it was advertising a cake for Grandparents’ Day. It’s bad enough that single people have to endure Christmas, New Year’s, and Valentine’s Day alone and lonely. Now they have to succumb to additional “special days” that put extra pressure on why they are still single and without children. I can still hear my mom asking, “Kelan mo ba ako bibigyan ng apo? (loosely translated as “Damn it, where’s my grandchild?!?”)”.

So in celebration of Grandparents’ Day today, I bought my parents this gift and prepared a line with it: “I don’t have grandkids for you. I hope you appreciate this cake.”

Single people rejoice!!

It’s that time of the year again. September 1st officially marks the start of the Christmas season in our country. I just heard my first Christmas carol in Festival Mall earlier. I know I should be excited (Hey, it’s the only time aside from my birthday that I can demand gifts from everyone without sounding snotty) but deep inside I really feel sad. I don’t know there’s just something in the Christmas air that breaks my heart.

While other people are busy preparing their vacation plans or thinking of what to get for their loved ones, I actually dread the holidays. I find Christmas to be the most depressing time of the year.  No, I’m not psychotic, I don’t have clinical depression, and I know that people (a very few, at least) still love me. I don’t know why the carols make me cringe. The worst would have to be “The Christmas Song” (I think). Anyway, it’s the one that goes, “Chestnuts roasting on an open fire…”. Whenever I hear that song, I want to stab myself in the heart (again, I’m not psychotic).

I’ve never had a bad Christmas really. Okay fine, I had a bad break-up a couple of years back but it’s not enough to have me traumatized. Besides, I’ve been experiencing this since I was a kid and the only break-up I’ve had was with my comfort pillow (don’t ask). Maybe I feel sad just because I miss a lot of people that should be spending Christmas with me.

First on the list would be my grandma. Yup, I’m a grandma’s boy. If you find me spoiled, selfish, and a complete brat, you now understand why. I always got what I wanted growing up. My grandma would buy me everything and let me do anything I want. As time passed though, I became more self-centered and forgot how much she loved me. Aside from the occasional hugs, I don’t think I was ever able to show her how much I loved her and appreciated her warmth and kindness. It’s sad to think that the person who was proud of me in whatever I did cannot see how successful (albeit mildly) I am now. I hate the cliché that she’s looking down at me from heaven because I so badly want her to be here to see how happy I am. I want her to be proud of me. I want her to be here so that I can show her how much I love her and this time I want to be the one to buy her everything and let her do anything that she wanted. ‘Nay Po, I love you very much. Stop preparing my place in heaven because I’ll most definitely go south of that place.

One other person I miss most is my friend Cocoy. She’s one of the few people whose life was taken much too early. If the basis for survival would be purity of heart and generosity, then she would have lived forever ( I wouldn’t have reached the age of 12, emphasis on purity). I miss the good old times when we just go out and do nothing. I listen to her talk all day on the phone while I watch my favorite shows. She’s the one who showed me the importance of watching movies on the first day so that you can avoid spoilers. We had great times together, even at one point agreeing to marry each other if we’re still single at the age of 30 (I blame My Best Friend’s Wedding). I’m not sad that I don’t have a fallback anymore, I’m sad that I lived longer than someone who should experience life and deserves it more. Maybe it’s because she’s endured a lot and she’s been a fighter up until the end. All I know is that I miss her terribly.

But back to the real world, I think I hear a Christmas jingle being played on the radio. And while everyone’s starting to prepare their Christmas plans and looking forward to the holidays, I sit in silence waiting for December to be over.

Merry Christmas everyone!!      

I was watching an episode of Friends earlier and it showed them dreading their 30th birthdays. I saw this same episode a few years back and I found it funny. I mean what’s the big deal? It’s just people getting older. Up until a few days ago, I didn’t understand why older people don’t give out their age. And then I turned 29.

I am now officially one year older to fit in the 21-28 tick box in application forms and one year younger than a 30 year old yuppie. I am old. But hey, I don’t feel old (except for the occasional muscle cramps, haha). I may look old (hey, I had the wrinkles and crow’s feet since I hit puberty) but I feel happier than ever.

I’m still reeling from the wonderful surprises I had the past week. It was like a week-long celebration that started with a surprise party in our office. I was touched with all the preparations and effort. And of course, the fact that they were able to keep it from me, the big snoop that I am. I loved the gifts (even if most of them ruined my month-long diet, hey, it’s my birthday so I can eat a few chocolates, right?).

I also threw a kiddie party on the night (day?) of my birthday. Everyone was game to wear the party hats. Funny story here. I was given two kinds of hats/masks: Bratz for the girls and Justice League for the guys. Before going out and serving food, I asked my friend Chasey if I look better as Wolverine or Batman. He looked at the masks and said that I look better as Wolverine. So I stepped out of my office wearing the said mask and gave out food to everyone on the floor. Ten minutes later someone approached me and asked, "Why are you wearing that mask?". Proud of how I look, I replied, "Because I’m Wolverine!!". And then she said, "But that’s…HAWK-GIRL!! Wolverine isn’t even part of Justice League." I remove the mask and realize that my Wolverine had earrings. So much for looking good.

I’ve never had so many gifts in my life. I had a wonderful love message on my wall,  dozens of flowers, a couple of cakes and several balloons. I really felt loved that night (I am such a sucker for sentimental goop so sue me.)

On the actual night of my birthday, after our traditional family dinner, my friend Pastey (almost all of my friends’ names end with -y) asked me to go with her to a nearby hotel. She said that she needed company (the PG-rated kind) and her friend’s staying there as well. If you’re not as clueless as I am, then you would know that they actually have a surprise party there for me. And for the first time, I had the "lights-out-people-crouching-in-the-dark-turn-on-the-lights-SURPRISE!!" surprise party. And yes, I was very surprised. Hehe. The people I treasure the most were all there (except for my long-lost-but-now-found-friend Kaytee). But there’s more. My good ol’ friend Jeracles who moved to New Zealand a few months ago also dropped by (for good?). It was the best party ever. We didn’t drink much but the photo shoots were amazing. Haha. And just spending the night with the people that you love dearly is enough to cap off my best week-long birthday celebration yet.

So, who’s afraid of getting old again? Not this adult who just felt like a giddy kid again.

P.S. To everyone who remembered, thank you again for making this such a memorable birthday.

I’m not sure whether or not I should recommend the newest movie of soon-to-be hack auteur M. Night Shyamalan. He’s the director-writer-producer-actor (in that order) of films such as Wide Awake, The Sixth Sense, Unbreakable, Signs, The Village, and Lady in the Water (hmm, that’s the entire list). People will watch his latest with several theories on the possible twist. Hey, it won’t be a Shyamalan movie without the twist at the end.

In The Happening, Shyamalan throws the “twist” a half hour into the movie. I can practically hear him saying, “Stop guessing you fools. Here’s the answer. Now, enjoy my freakin’ movie.” Except that there’s not much to enjoy after you learn why the happening is happening.

Here’s something fun to do while watching. You know how in Pinoy movies the title needs to be said by the bida (preferably during the climax)? Well, in this flick you get to hear the title every 15 minutes. I hope Shyamalan’s giving out prizes to those who counted because I have the answer.

Anyway, I’m definitely torn with this one (and not in a Signs-way where I really liked the movie but found the twist unnecessary). This would fall right in between The Village (laughable twist that even idiots can guess in the first 10 minutes) and Lady in the Water (an adult bedtime story that did put me to sleep). I really don’t know what to make of it (the bored performance of Mark Wahlberg didn’t help, either).

Hey, maybe this was funded by Al Gore. I failed to check the credits but I did see Shyamalan insert himself yet again for another non-acting job. Now there’s a twist that I didn’t expect.

I skipped another day at the gym. At this rate, I’ll be 10 pounds lighter and my waist will be 2 inches smaller by 2010. I don’t even know why I signed up for another year’s worth of membership when I didn’t even complete the previous one a couple of years ago. The only thing that keeps me coming back are the constant jeers and taunts that I get from: 1) my friends who refer to me as “big fat tub of lard”, and 2) my friends who constantly mock me for signing up for another year knowing that I never last a full 2 weeks. With friends like these, who needs Xenical?

Who would have thought that it would take a washed-up Starstruck starlet for me to begin writing again? I know it’s been a while since I’ve updated this blog and I’ve lost my two loyal readers ever since but this is still a good start. Now going back to the girl that will serve as my muse today; the very girl that triggered my existential crisis while walking like a zombie in Alabang Town Center yesterday.

Her name is Nadine. As in Samonte. I know, I know, most of you don’t watch local shows and the few that do only watch shows on ABS-CBN. If you do know Jennylyn Mercado or Mark Herras, then you’re on the right track. Nadine was one of the Starstruck finalists (or Avengers to certain fans, myself excluded). She’s pretty, can barely act her way out of a sack, and used to be the girlfriend of Oyo Boy Sotto (if you’re wondering how I know all of these things, let’s just say that: 1) I absorb all Pinoy showbiz trivia, and 2) I used to get my daily dose of local chismis from my good ol’ friend Jera, now milking cows in New Zealand).

I digress. So, I see pretty Nadine with a date strolling near the cinemas and I’m contemplating if my pride can withstand a photo op with her. And then it happened. She opened her mouth and said the words that sent chills up my spine: “Ma, it’s in Cinema TREE.” No, I didn’t type it wrong (or heard it differently). She really did say TREE because she repeated it. And that got me thinking, will I ever go out with someone who can’t even pronounce the word “three” correctly?

You can call me whatever you want but I really don’t see it happening. Hey, I’m not an English major, I don’t have the best communication skills (try spotting the grammatical errors I made on this entry), and you won’t see me debating with Miriam Santiago anytime soon. Still, I really cannot go out with someone who will make me cringe with every mispronounced word. I am not an elitist, I am not being mayabang. I am just stating a fact about myself.

Anyway, this got me thinking: What else do I consider as automatic deal-breakers?

For one, I cannot stand people who yak on forever about nothing. I can be the most boring person in the world but I am a good listener. In dates, I rarely talk about myself because I would rather hear interesting stories about the other person. I don’t like it when people brag about their haciendas or discuss religion or politics on dinner dates.

Clingy ones. Hate those as well. I resent the days that I am close to loving someone who suddenly reveals how clingy that person can get; emotionally, physically, or even worse financially (!!). I am not afraid of commitment but I am not ready to be a babysitter as well. It is not my responsibility to always reciprocate feelings, or text that I am at home or at work, or pay for every meal whenever we go out. It is not my duty to pick up and drop off people just because I have a car. Nope, I am much too selfish to do that.

Ooh, and people who do not take regular baths. We live in a tropical country, we all sweat, and I bet not even Anne Curtis smells good after a hard day’s work. Get some soap and water, clean up and brush your teeth after. I’m going to stop here.

If you’ve reached this point, then I bet you’ve already judged me as one of the biggest assholes who has no right to criticize since I am not perfect, I do not look good, and I do not sound smart. Well, I’d rather be reviled than pretend to be Mr. Nice Guy. Besides, I’m sure Nadine will never go out with me as well. I guess that’s all for the best.

Insomnia has its perks. I’ve been in bed for hours counting almost 25,000 sheep when I decided to catch up on my DVDs. Fortunately, I grabbed the latest installment in the Die Hard series. Unfortunately it’s called Live Free or Die Hard.

I hate action movies. I’d rather watch Kim Chiu and Gerald Anderson act cute than sit through two hours of explosions and car chases. Besides, Bruce Willis still owes me 300 bucks and two hours of my life for Perfect Stranger. He’s bald, he’s old, and I wouldn’t want a geriatric action hero. Boy, was I wrong.

Die Hard 4.0, like Casino Royale, doesn’t really offer a fresh take on the action genre. Still, they are welcome additions to tired old franchises that have been churning crap for the last few years. I barely remember the last two Die Hards but I still get excited thinking about the first one. The original ranks up there as one of the best guy flicks ever. 4.0 might be one of the best sequels as well. I loved the action sequences especially the money shots where 1) a car flew over Bruce and Justin Long, and 2) a car ramped up and flew to a helicopter. In this movie, almost all sequences involved moving vehicles.

The funniest bit though had Bruce beating up Maggie Q. Yes, the babe who kicked ass in Mission: Impossible III . Now that’s what I call a real action hero.