Thursday, August 29, 2002

Something just occurred to me.....

"It's a small thing, but it's my small thing. "

That makes a great out-of-context quote. That is, if if wasn't me saying it.

Hope no one I know is reading this blog....

Wednesday, August 28, 2002

You Can't Please Everyone.

I've been overweight for the majority of my life. Still am, really, but the difference now is that I've equalized it with some muscle via working out four times a week to give me bulk, shifting my classification from "fat" to "stocky". But for the longest time I was grossly obese, my lowest point being when was 14 where I tipped the scales at a whopping 200 pounds. Which is why I still can't fully believe it when someone calls me a 'hunk' or other type of complement. The part of me who was humiliated on a daily basis thinks that it's all some elaborate setup for a particularly vicious practical joke.

That's why I still like to please people, one of the last vestiges of my old identity that I've been working to divest myself of. Be a good friend, definitely. My closest friends (and now, my Lover) know that I would move mountains for them without hesitation if they truly needed it. As for the rest of my pals, buddies, acquaintances: yes, help when you can. But not to the point of your own detriment if it isn't really necessary, and definitely don't bother trying to please someone who doesn't give a shit about you.

I'm on this self-actualizing rant because Nelz and I met up with one of his friends last night at Greenbelt 3 for the show. We had actually seen each other several times before, always been limited to hi's and hellos. I had been getting some vibes from him; not a dislike, but a pointed indifference that he wasn't going to expend the effort to get to know me. This was an opportunity, I thought, to talk and get to know him a little better. I tried several times during the evening to initiate a conversation with him, to no avail. He just answered my comments politely and went back to talking with Nelz.

I was...... disappointed? Offended? Hurt? I wasn't sure. Nelz consoled me by saying that there are some people that simply don't gel, and I know that better than anyone. There are some people who don't have to do anything and they just rub you the wrong way. Apparently I had hit that nerve with his friend.

Its no big deal, really. But this was a fairly good friend of his, someone who has been there for him through his low points. Even before I met Nelz, I had prioritized befriending your Significant Other's friends as one of the personal responsibilities (note the key word personal: as in, mine and mine alone) of a good lover. I don't ever want to make it an situation where he has to choose. Hell, with his power of Deadma, Nelz was more at ease about the whole thing than I was.

Apparently what bothered him were my American-style accent and my long padawan-style braid, a remnant of my rocker days when I had long hair halfway down my back. Alas, I had neither the complexion or the bone structure to pull it off, so I eventually had it all shorn off, but kept that little bit and tied it up Ranma style.

There are several reasons I put up with the trouble required to maintain the braid. To set myself apart, for one thing. Something that's uniquely Me as far as I know no one (in Manila anyway) has sports his hair quite like mine. Shallow, perhaps. But anyone who does something to distinguish themselves, whether it be in dress, behaviour or achievement, cannot criticize me without throwing stones at their own house. Another reason is that I've always appreciated long hair, both in others and in myself. I like the way it blows in the wind, and running my fingers through it.

Finally, I like it becuase it gives me a small sense of stability. My life has been one of change, both constant and turbulent. The biggest one happening just 6 months ago when I finally came out of the closet. The braid, something which I take great pains to maintain, gives me the a feeling of consistency, something that I have control over even as the tides of my life takes me wherever they see fit. It's a small thing, but it's my small thing.

He was telling Nelz daw to get me to cut it, or to do it himself. Nelz, god bless him, told him to let me be and worry about his own dramas. I accept that naman, eh. You don't like me because of my braid? Well, I'm not going to cut it off for you. If anything, an attitude like that makes me want to cultivate it more; to play with it in front of you and brandish it in your face. And that you would use something as inconsequential as that to dislike someone? Makes me like you even less.

....Okay, getting steamed here. Take a deep breath, relax.....

Thinking about it last night as I was getting ready for bed, I finally figured it out what was bothering me the most about the whole thing. This was no old-fashioned conservative we're talking about here. Here was a guy who had fully immersed himself in the music scene, hanging around people where personal design was a way of life. Tattoos, colored hair, dreadlocks, and piercings were commonplace, and in some ways, a professional necessity. Hell, one of his closest friends proudly sports a pierced lip. Does he give her flak about that? I would bet not.

At least I have hair.

No Matter How Bad things Get

Watched Rex Navarrete at Food Choices Greenbelt 3 last night. Nelz was feeling a little depressed as I picked him up. Stuff about work, career, where he's like to be a year from now. The inspiring thing about him is that he refuses to let depression mire him in inactivity; instead striving to pick himself up from wherever he is now. At least you have a career, love. If the shit hits the fan where I am, I'd be lost.

The place was packed and we were hungry, so we decided to go downstairs to Kitchen to grab a bite before going back to brave the throng of people. As we alighted from the escalator who do I see but him (see blog Entry: Less Than Nothing) going upstairs with a female friend of his to see the same show. Moving in different directions, there wasn't any time to say anything other than to smile and say 'hi', which he returned naman. I told Nelz that three months ago, seeing that would have put me into a deep state of despair and depression, whatever his relationship to the girl (who turned out to be his boss). And I was thankful that I was okay now.

If only the opposite were true. I find out this morning through his blog that last night was one of deep angst for him as well, primarily about career, and the choices he had made. He's in a valley right now professionally, and he was wondering whether he made some very bad decisions about his life. Seeing a bunch of former college batchmates of his in Makati with their high-power paychecks only brought the point home about the gulf between where he wanted to be and where he was right now.

This puts me at a quandary. What happened between us is finished and gone and dead and buried and over with, but I still consider him a friend out of respect for what he has contributed to my growth, even though he may not feel the same. I want to say to him what Nelz told his friend who was in a similar situation, that only he can make the decision to better himself, and depression is counterproductive.

The thing is, I know his blog exists, but he doesn't know that I know. And I'm pretty sure he wouldn't want me to know, as it would remove from him one of his few remaining avenues for catharsis if he knew I was reading, as he has mentioned me in his blog not a few times. (Still with me?)

I find myself in the unique position of wanting to say something, to try and make this person feel a little better. But there's no way I can really say anything without letting him know what I cannot allow him to know.

This is something straight out of some cheesy drama. Oy.

Tuesday, August 27, 2002

Irony Is....

Your mother berating you about the dog peeing everywhere in the house, turning around and finding a puddle on the floor and your puppy looking up at you with a relieved look on his face.

I had forgotten how much fun dogs can be.

Lotsa things I want to blog about since Monday, so let's get started....

Some People Just Never Go Away

The Philippine Daily Inquirer reported yesterday that Miriam Defensor Santiago, the woman who yelled at the Edsa Tres mob "Lusob! Lusob!" and almost became President withdrew plans to teach International Law and Politics & Governance at DLSU allegedly for her association with Estrada and all-around nuttiness.

When asked to respond, Santiago said:

"This is what happens when there is no rule of law. Trapos are able to use insecure fools and assorted individuals who feel free to vent their emotional disturbance on the innocent public"

Sometimes the comebacks just write themselves, folks. There were so many directions I could have gone in responding to this: I could go back to past current events and say "She was probably just afraid of her students looking at her provokingly"

Or I could even turn the whole thing into a way to build up UP and slam another college at the same time with something like " This is what makes UP superior to all other Universities, that we accept both student and faculty regardless of race, creed, sexual orientation and mental stability".

In the end, I decided to just go for something simple. I am going to laugh and laugh and laugh. And laugh.



Monday, August 26, 2002

Why is it so hard to get up in the morning sometimes?

I just want to go back to bed.

Sunday, August 25, 2002

He shall bring Balance to the Force

While we were at Nelz place, we went out back to look at their dogs, who had just had puppies. They were nice enough I guess; mixed-breed askal pups that were fairly average and would probably lose their cuteness when they grew up. Nothing I hadn't seen before, and wasn't too impressed. Didnt even bother to pet them. I was about to go back to watching TV when I saw this fluffy little thing waddle over to the other puppies.

It looked like a tiny St. Bernard; so fat and porky it looked like he had no neck. His coat was dark brown, with symmetrical markings: a thin white stripe running down the center of his face, white forepaws running halfway up both his forelegs like gloves, and white rear paws that looked like shoes. He had trouble climbing over things because of his roundness, and he couldn't even run in a straight line without tipping over. Among his siblings, who all have smooth coats, he stood out like a Peacock among penguins. You wouldnt think they were part of the same litter.

His name, according to Nelz's mom, was Ewok (she had a knack for giving dogs weird but cool names like Daimos, Voltron and Tisay). With a short snout, fluffy coat and big soulful eyues, he really did look like one of those cute-on-purpose characters from the penultimate chapter of the Star Wars trilogy. Much like when I saw Nelz walk into Starbuck's Araneta, It was love at first sight.

Years of being a dog-lover came rushing back to me as I picked him up and began nuzzling his fluffy coat and wet button nose. Seeing me act like a little girl over Ewok, Nelz asked me if I wanted to take him home. I tried to keep my cool, saying that he might already be spoken for, considering how cute he was. His mom assured me that wasn't the case. I haven't had a canine of my own in over 3 years (we have Vanessa, but she's is Angelica's dog) stemming from a bad experience with an evil chow-chow, and since then, had become a lapsed dog-lover. Faced with an opportunity to rediscover thant part of myself, I thought about it for around five seconds and said "Okay!"

So we bundled up little Ewok in a box with newpaper and an old towel and sat the box in front, between Nelz and me. He was quiet and thoughtful all throughout the duration of the trip, probably not sure what to make of what was going on around him. He looked sooooooooooo adorable leaning his cheek against the side of the box; his big, soulful eyes up at me. I wanted to stop the car and cuddle him right there on the highway.

As True Faith played on the stereo and the weather was a beautifully strange mix of clouds, rain, sun and lightning, We laughed about how were giving each other pets (Nelz with Yzma, me with Ewok), becoming so domesticated and family-like. We jokingly speculated that as his namesake was instrumental in overthrowing the empire in Return of the Jedi, so would this puppy use his innate abilities to bring balance to The Force at home.

We passed by my house first to drop off Ewok and wash our hands of the puppy-smell (we would be handling clean laundry). As soon as the maids saw little Ewok peering over the rim of his box, they were hooked. They tried to play it cool; asking whether or not he bit, but the the wide grins on their faces betrayed their true feelings. As we left, I could hear them giggling and laughing. Already, my little pet had begun to work his magic. No one with a XX chromosome can resist Ewok's powers.

We went on to Nelz' apartment and unloaded his clean laundry. After helping bathe Yzma and pick out his fleas, I decided to go home. Normally I would stay to watch Will and Grace with Nelz, but I had been missing sleep lately and it was beginning to show. Also, I wanted to tend to Ewok lest mom think I merely dumped a new pet there for other people to take care of. I entered the kitchen and saw the porky puppy happily lazing on the floor. He had already eaten and looked to be getting used to his new surroundings.

Like a Lord of the Sith, my mother suddenly appeared in the kitchen out of nowhere to undoubtedly ask me about what I had brought home this time. I set my temper control to maximum and our exchange went something like this:

Mom: *Serious look on her face* Asaan naman nanggaling 'yan?
Me: *looking her in the eye, smiling* Bigay sa akin ng nanay ni Nelson.
Mom: ... *knowing that I'm watching to see her reaction, closes her mouth tightly turns and away*

As expected, she wasn't going to give me the satisfaction of admitting to Ewok's uber-charm. Or so she thought. As she began to walk away, my attention turned to Ewok, who had gotten the green towel that came with his box and was steadily tugging it across the floor with his teeth in a display of sheer cuteness. As I was watching him, I heard someone cry out: "Aaaaaaay! Hinuhugot niya!"

I looked up. It was mom, peeking from behind the kitchen door. She was smiling.

Yes, my little rebel Ewok. Fulfill your purpose.

Coming Home Again For the First Time

Went to Angono to see Nelz's house and pay his family a visit. His neighborhood is still relatively untouched from the hustle and bustle of Manila (for example: it's a good thirty minutes from the nearest Jollibee). Very relaxing and laid back. He says it drives him crazy because there's nothing to do, but I find that that has it's own unique charm. I can see Nelz going up here if he wanted to disappear from the world for a spell. Can't believe he used to commute from here to Lourdes school in Shaw Boulevard every day. Yeeks.

I brought his folks a quart of Banana Bonanza ice cream, and his mom liked it so much she had seconds. His brother Erwin was there, and I finally got to meet his youngest sibling John Louie. Nelz was right; thouh he's only 14, there's an air of maturity to him not present in other boys his age. Also, he is huge. If we were in America, football coaches would be fighting to have him as a fullback on their team.

Entering the place where Nelz grew up was an intimate experience. I stood by quietly and watched him dig through his stuff, immersing himself in old memories, which permeated the aura of the room. This was the place where he had spent the first half of his life; where all of his angsts and joy had taken place. Considering how important Nelz has become in my life it felt like I was visiting a historical landmark or walking on hallowed ground; sacred almost. That I had been invited into this very personal place made me feel honored, and that much closer to him.

But there was another reason why I wanted to go. Manila cable companies don't reach to Angono yet, so their cable provider is a regional service that aired channels unavailable on either Home or Sky, like a subtitled HBO (for other asian countries) and the infamous "Wawaw" channel. There was one particular program that I wanted to see for myself, and when Erwin told me about it I couldnt believe was true. He was surfed through the channels and when I saw it:

WWE Wrestling.

And not the recap stuff they show on local tv. It was fully into the current storylines, maybe just 3 weeks in behind the states. Very fresh compared to RPN 9, which is like five MONTHS behind. Eric Bischoff was in charge of RAW, the brand split and buildup to Summerslam was in full effect. Tommy Dreamer successfully defended his Hardcore Title against Bradshaw, The Hardy Boyz beat the UnAmericans via DQ, Booker T. and GoldDust beat William Regal & Chris Nowinsky, and the main event saw Chris Jericho get pinned by Rob Van Dam thanks to some interference by Ric Flair.

I had been a die hard fan of the this musclebound telenovela since I was a child, and had mourned when Star World foolishly decided to first repace WWE (then WWF) programming with its vastly inferior counterpart WCW; and when they were absorbed by WWE anyway, removed wrestling from their programming altogether. I had kept up with all the title switches and heel turns via internet recaps, but reading about a Shooting Star Press (picture a somersault from the top rope where you backflip while moving forward, basically spinning 450 degrees in the air and landing on your opponent) is hardly the same thing as seeing it.

I sat transfixed to the TV, a silly grin on my face. So much had happened in the past year and a half since I last saw WWE tv: from Steve Austin abandoning the promotion for real, to the rise and fall of the Ric Flair-owned Raw era, and finally former WCW head Eric Bischoff, who had once sworn to drive Vince McMahon into bankruptcy, being brought in as an on-camera talent. I cannot describe how wonderful it was to finally see wrestlers I had only read about in text recaps. Watching these costumed titans come up with imaginative ways to beat each other senseless, I remembered why I had missed it so much. The characters, the storylines, the beautiful moves that are the closest thing you can get to a live-action anime.

It seems that this local channel, Tele Mundo, I think had taped it from what appeared to be an Indonesian channel and was rebroadcasting it without permission. That means it's totally illegal and you'll never see it on HomeCable. But I didn't care. My beloved WWE was back. During the drive home I had a smile on my face and a renewed sense of peace. It was like a long lost part of me had finally been returned, and I was complete.


Friday, August 23, 2002

Song Share

For anyone who's ever lost themselves in someone else.

Take it Slow
by Where's Joe?, all rights reserved

Is it so bad that I pass my time in terms of you
From when the last I saw you to next that we can meet
And is it so bad that you sublimate my defenses
My instincts lay their arms down in defeat

And tell me is it so bad that I'm bordering on obsession
Do I have to douse the fire of my longing for this man?
Do I have to learn how not to give a damn
Whether we see each other or not
Before I can?

Is it so bad, bad, bad...
Tell me am I so bad, bad, bad...

Is it so bad that I'm miserable without you
There's a wake in my room it feels like someone died
And tell me is it so bad I lie in bed awash in thoughts of you
And my hands pretend you're right there by my side

And tell me is it so bad that I'm bordering on obsession
Do I have to douse the fire of my longing for this man?
Do I have to learn how not to give a damn
Whether we see each other or not
Before I can?

Can someone tell me if I'm getting there
That I'm learning how not to care
Pry myself open to the concept of letting go
Let this aching passion burn away
Meaning less and less to me everyday
Well I'm doing like you asked just so you know
We can take it... slow.

Is it so bad that I've redefined my language
That I've forgotten words like self-restraint and chaste
And tell me is it so bad I wanna see you from between your legs
And discover for myself how you must taste

And tell me is it so bad that I'm bordering on obsession
Do I have to douse the fire of my longing for this man?
Do I have to learn how not to give a damn
Whether we see each other or not
Before I can?

Can someone tell me if I'm getting there
That I'm learning how not to care
Pry myself open to the concept of letting go
Let this aching passion burn away
Meaning less and less to me everyday
Well I'm doing like you asked just so you know
We can take it... slow.

Can't eat
Can't think
Can't breathe
Can't drink
Can't laugh
Can't cry
Can't live
Can't die

I can't live my life like this
I can't live my life like this
I can't live my life like this
No I can't...

Can someone tell me if I'm getting there
That I'm learning how not to care
Pry myself open to the concept of letting go
Let this aching passion burn away
You're meaning less and less to me everyday
Well I'm doing like you asked just so you know...

That I think I've finally gotten there
That I can tell myself I don't care
I find myself open with the strength to let you go
I've let this aching passion burn away
Mean less than nothing to me now by the way
Well I did just like you asked just so you know
And we can take it... slow
And you can take it... slow

And you can take it.

Angel with a Twisted Halo

Such was the term used by Kris Gorra (Fatal Posporos and Eheads vocalist) to describe fellow guitarist Jason Caballa. And so Twisted Halo; one of the most talented bands in music today, was born. Beginning as a mix of Radiohead, new wave, and pinoy rock, they have forged a distinctive sound that sets them apart in a scene clogged with rap-metal outfits. The group is a tight unit made up of several musicians whose whole is greater than the already-formidable sum of its' parts.

Vin "Don't call me Mr. Kris Gorra" Dancel (vocals, guitars) is a charismatic singer, who radiates a sort of moody intensity. He has carved for himself a rather unique persona of a frontperson who willingly avoids the spotlight rather than embracing it: the Anti-Rockstar.

Jason "Posporo na may Mitsa" Caballa (guitars) is an axe-master to be reckoned with. Serving double duty in Fatal Posporos, his stellar work in Twisted Halo and his indie music sensibilities marks him as one rock's best kept secrets in the scene today.

Jal "Free Time is Bad for you" Taguibao's (bass) resume is truly impressive. The former bassist in Session Road and current in Sugar Free holds down not one but two day jobs, a personal life as well as being in a band. A master of Time Management, if the music thing doesn't pan out he can teach a course for frazzled executives. (Sadly, he has recently left the group)

Monmon "I Love to Love" Lopez (drums) this hefty, self-proclaimed 'Band Heart-throb' has both the power and finesse to play the group's difficult drum patterns (witness the 32-beat rhythm on Brad). Even from a personality point of view he serves a vital function; as his jovial nature offsets Vin's more outwardly morose persona.

Indeed, Twisted Halo is, pound for pound, one of the best groups in pinoy rock today. All the members are immensely skilled musicians who separately, would be the centerpiece of any band.

Except for Joey "Papa Bear" Odulio (guitars). That guy just sucks.

Less Than Nothing

Just came from watching Sugar Free's 3rd anniversary gig at Big Sky. Awesome set, awesome band. Assuming they don't get screwed by incompetent marketing, they're gonna be huge. Halfway through lead singer Ebe's third song, as I was sitting on the floor watching them perform, out of the corner of my eye, I saw him.

The boy who broke my heart.

This was the person who, for five months, dominated every other thought that went through my head; the bad times far, far outweighing the good. The inspiration of three songs, as well as several other unfinished ones. I wept for him, I lost weight due to depression because of him, I willingly offered up my love, my dignity, and even my body to him without expecting anything in return. I gave more to him than I had ever given any one person in all my life.

And as I saw him that night, I felt..... nothing.

No anxiety, no dislike or longing, not even concern. He had become Just Another Person in the crowd. Less even, for it looked like he was avoiding me, not acknowledging my existence until I was too close to ignore without appearing rude. And that suited me just fine. Looking at him now, I could only think to myself: "What the HELL was I thinking?"

To anyone who's ever fallen in love with someone and moved on, I'm not saying anything new. But I find it amazing how this person, who once had so much power over me had become so utterly meaningless.

Given enough time, you can get over anything.

Wednesday, August 21, 2002

Just a quick entry

I miss Nelz.

With all the stuff that's been going on lately, It's comforting to find myself longing to see the smile on his face, hear his laugh, smell his cologne. Reassuring. Yun lang.

Back to work.

Tuesday, August 20, 2002


I think Nelz and I had our first argument last night. Not a fight. A difference in opinion. About expectations in the relationship, and how much one was willing to do to make the other one happy. I was disappointed to learn that this was something that we did not correspond on. No voices were raised at all throughout, and after a lot of discussion things were pretty much resolved.

I promised myself a long time ago to never go to bed angry. I honestly feel that the moment the both of you simultaneously decide that your own needs (sleep, escape, etc.) outweighs the need to Make Things Okay between the two of you, a sad corner is turned. Anything is difficult the first time you do it, and it only gets easier after that. Staying angry for a fortnight paves the way to staying angry for a couple of days; into a week, and the next thing you know it's been a month since you've said a word to your partner, and after that it's only a matter of time.

I don't think that you are destined for breaking up when it happens, but I do feel that something is lost: The willingness to put, above all else, the peace of mind between you and your partner. There's compassion and sincerity in that belief; and I honestly feel that as long as we make sure we don't go to bed angry, in the long run we'll be all right. I didn't even need to see The Story of Us to know that.

And I had a restless night of sleep last night. Living your life in mortal fear that the next silent space on the telephone is the other preparing to say the words "Maybe this isn't working out" is no way to be in a relationship. It's like going through your entire life so afraid of death that you forget to actually live. I know that, I really do. But a part of me, that lies beyond reason and rests within instinct, that's the part that kept me up last night; being sad, mourning for something that was lost. I'm not sure what exactly, but I think it was the naive hope that we were 2 people that were never going to have a disagreement about anything.

I think what was going through my insides was the feeling of This is how it's going to be when we argue. Will I get used to it? Is getting used to it actually a good thing? If in the long run we don't work *knock wood*, will it stem from an argument just like this one? And if so, how do I know that this wasn't it? Questions like these ran through my stomach the entire night, pervading even my dreams. I am fully aware that anyone who's had a long-term relationship will scoff at these worries; that this little tiff is nothing compared to the real disagreements that can come from a relationship. It's an irrational and irrelevant anxiety, but there it is.

No, we didn't go to bed angry. But I did go to bed disquiet.

I need a hug.

Sunday, August 18, 2002

"Love is becoming the best person you can possibly be"
- Ben Okri

Friday, August 16, 2002

Song Share

Not one of mine this time. This is from the more poetic half of the Indigo Girls Emily Saliers, off their Swamp Ophelia album. While she's known for her very intricate guitar work thanks to her classical training, this particular song is surprisingly laid-back music wise (no solos, primarily strummed chords all throughout). The lyrics take center stage here, with the narrator positing some of the most beautiful questions about love ever asked.

It's a wonderful song, and a prime example of why Saliers is one of my biggest songwriting influences. Enjoy...

Words and music by Emily Saliers

Each time you pulled down the driveway
I wasn't sure when I would see you again
Yours was a twisted blind sided highway
No matter which road you took then

Oh you set up your place in my thoughts
And made my thinking crowded
Now we're out in the back with the barking dogs
My heart the red sun your heart the moon clouded

I could go crazy on a night like tonight
When summer's beginning to give up the fight
And every thought's a possibility
And the voices are heard but nothing is seen
Why do you spend this time with me
May be an equal mystery

So what is love then?
Is it dictated, or simply chosen?
(handed down or made by hand)
Does it sing like the hymn of a thousand years
Or is it just pop emotion?
(handed down or made by hand)
And it it ever was there and it left
does it mean it was never true?
And to exist it must elude
Is that why I think these things of you?

I could go crazy on a night like tonight
When summer's beginning to give up the fight
And every thought's a possibility
And the voices are heard but nothing is seen
Why do you spend this time with me
May be an equal mystery

But you like the taste of danger
It shines like sugar on your lips
You like to stand in the line of fire
Just to show you can shoot straight from your hips

There must be a thousand things you would die for
I can only think of two
But not everything is better spoken aloud
Not when I'm talking to you

Oh the pirate gets the ship and the girl tonight
breaks a bottle to christen her
Basking in the exploits of her thief
She's a very good listener

Maybe that's all that we need
Is to meet in the middle of impossibility
We're standing on opposite poles
Equal partners in a mystery

We're standing on opposite poles
Equal partners in a mystery


Went to Boldstar's album launch at Big Sky Mind last night, where an acquaintance smiled at me and said: "I know you have a blog..."

I was surprised because as far as I know, she's as removed from the circles that knows about my blog as you can get. Apparently it showed up in one of her Google searches about the itchyworms! (which I had mentioned in an earlier entry). She told me she has a blog, but dangit if I couldn't find it! (Having a nick/username that's named after a major tourist destination makes tracking her down even harder) _____, if you're reading this, sirit na! lemme know your url, girl! :)

Wala lang, I find it interesting to see who's discovered my blog.

And how many people do I know are reading it now?.............

Thursday, August 15, 2002

Murphy's Law


As I type this, Nelz and I were supposed to be already halfway to Baguio, the culmination of a lot of planning and not a bit of hair-pulling on some people's part (not Nelz & I, just in case anyone was wondering). I was still doing some last minute packing last night, digging through my tape collection for music to bring on the long trip, when my travelling companion called me and told me that the poor weather lately had increased the chance of landslides, and that they weren't going after all.

It has been a stressful week, and I had been used Baguio as something to look forward to calm me down, so to say that I'm disappointed would be an understatement. Unlike what some people may have thought, Nelz has been working extra-long hours every night -- including saturdays -- for the past two weeks just to be able to make this three-day weekend. So he didn't "afford" to do this. He worked his ass off for it. But more on that later.

All throughout arranging the trip, Nelz was tellling me how previous meticulously planned excursions fell apart because of one thing or another, leading to his current bahala na attitude. After what happened to Baguio, I can honestly say that I know how he feels, and am currently contemplating a similar conversion of belief. After much discussion last night, an alternate plan was agreed upon where Nelz would still go to work this friday, take saturday off, and we would go to Los Banos to meet up with a friend of his and drop off some photos.

After Los Banos, it's off to Tagaytay again (no threat of landslides there) and a night of eating, watching DVDs, and snuggling, provided Nelz isn't too exhausted. My subconscious is already furiously coming up with ideas for what else we can do for the weekend, so it's not a total loss.

At times like this, I look back and try to see if there is anything that can be learned from the experience. These are some of the insights I have gained, about myself and others:

- Some people have, during the course of a stressful week, conducted themselves in an ungraceful manner; ending their statements and text messages one sentence too long in what I believe to be uncalled for and unecessarily mean statements. Everything must be to their specifications, and no one is allowed, even jokingly, to voice concerns.

Just because they are in high pressure work situations, they apparently have begun to believe that no one else in the universe works as hard as they do, and so that puts them in a special class altogether above the lazier masses who can "afford" to take a leave. It has been an exercise in Grace on my part not to follow my impulses, and all things considered, I think I conducted myself pretty well. Maybe some people are simply better off as friends and not travel partners. Kumare, hindi lang kayo ang naghihirap sa trabaho.

- One fundamental difference that I've observed between Nelz and me is that while he hates planning (for reasons detailed above) and chooses to keep things open until the last minute, I on the other hand am a resolute planner, always thinking of new ways to make whatever is being planned even better. Even when I am doing something else, my mind is continuously weighing new ideas. As a couple, this can both work to our advantage and also be a possible source of friction.

- I've been able to finally do some things that I've been putting off, like: Buying a new instamatic camera for the trip to replace the one our family has been using for over 10(!!) years; Clearing out my car of old junk that's just been laying there (yes, my car has become an extension of my room); and getting myself a new Fag-Bag to hold my assorted stuff.

And finally:

- Sometimes, no matter how much you plan things out to the last detail, life will conspire against you and bring it all down. C'est la vie.

Wednesday, August 14, 2002


Lilo & Stitch continues the paradigm shift that Disney Animation is currently undergoing, moving away from the standard musical spectacle that was started with Atlantis: the Lost Empire. However, unlike that adventure fantasy, Lilo & Stitch is a lighthearted comedy much smaller in scope, more along the vein of Hercules and Emperor's New Groove.

The world that this movie creates is a whimsical one, where a mad scientist's definition of 'mass destruction' includes backing up sewer systems, switching road signs and stealing everyone's left shoe. Where one-eyed aliens can simply don a wig and a dress and go around public unnoticed. And a big, hulking bass-voiced secret service agent can go by the name "Cobra Bubbles" and get away with it. Quite simply, this is a world that is best enjoyed when you check your disbelief and your grownup-ness at the door.

Once you do that, you are in for a treat. Lilo is far from the traditional heroine. Both her and her sister Nani are reeling from a family tragedy, and Lilo is lashing out, much to her sister's dismay. Stitch is pure Id: A cross between a mutt and an evil koala bear, he is programmed only to cause as much chaos as possible. At first, the relationship between him and Lilo as a rocky one: He pushes over trucks, steals children's food, basically doing whatever he pleases as soon as the thought comes to him. Driven by implanted instinct to head to the nearest city, he goes nuts when he discovers the tiny Hawaian island he has crash-landed on has no cities. What do you do when your main reason for being is no longer applicable? Left without a purpose, Stitch turns to his master and a friendship truly begins to form.

The setting of Hawaii is a beautiful one: from the music which includes traditional Hawaiian choruses & Elvis Presley songs; to the breathtaking vistas of sand and surf, A festive mood is created that is perfect for the tone of the film. As someone who has only seen Hawaii from TV shows and films like this one, it only makes me sigh and want to get rich real quick just so I can go there and see the real thing.

The art style is retro (though the cynical among us might wonder if that is attributed to a stylistic choice or Disney scaling their budgets back, as traditional animation seems to be losing ground to CG-animated fare like Shrek and Ice Age), with backgrounds being done in hand-painted watercolor which makes for a refreshing change from the cutting-edge technology showcase that animated films have become.

Character designs are much rounder than recent Disney films are a refreshing stylistic change.The film is populated by full-figured characters, both alien and human, all secure in their own skin. Even the Baywatch-parody blonde is a plus-size. The best example of this is protagonist Nani (voiced by Hawaiian-born Fil-American Tia Carrere). She is a full-figured girl -- not fat, mind you -- but muscular, sporting a lovely pair of legs that the more idiotic and western-influenced among us would immediately deride as "thunder thighs". Were she a real life person she would no doubt use those legs to deliver a swift and powerful kick to said idiot. Nani is the first Disney heorine to have the physicality to back up her assertiveness. As a stocky person myself (and dang proud of it!), I just have to say It's about time!

Along with figures, another laudable move on the animators' part was to draw the characters' features as Hawaiian, and not just the standard western faces with a darker color, which is more than I can say about local forays into animation. Brown skin, almond eyes, full noses and black hair are proudly sported by all the main characters, and the few caucasian that are there either serve as comedy relief or minor antagonists. Having just read a Time article which featured asian women getting themselves cut open just to look more like westerners, this movie delivers a great message to it's target audience.

My final verdict? It's a great children's film, and, as the cliche goes, it's for the child in every one of us. It's not the masterpiece on the scale of Beauty and the Beast or Lion King, nor does it aspire to be. It's just a fun, simple little story about a girl and her six-legged dog that could have been adapted from a children's book. My recommendation is that if you think of animated movies as 'kid stuff', this one won't change your mind anytime soon. If on the other hand you enjoy Disney films, then by all means go see it. This is a pleasant enough diversion for the animation buffs until next summer, when the real Disney blockbuster comes along: Treasure Planet.

Monday, August 12, 2002

Green-Eyed Monsters

I think my score comes as a result of a combination af naivete, optimism, stubborn pride and a massive ego (that is, I think I'm just as hot --if not hotter-- than most guys out there, haha!).

Results of the Jealousy Test
General Index
Your score = 6

What does your score mean?
Most people who are involved in an important relationship carry a certain amount of fear and feel threatened by the possibility of being displaced and losing a partner to someone else. After all, these things happen, and when they do, it is usually very painful. Very few people display a blatant lack of jealousy. You appear to be one of them.

If you were honest with yourself while taking the test, this means that you are so secure, so strong, independent, and rational that the possibility of losing your partner to someone else is not threatening to you. That does not mean that you do not care; you would certainly be sad or crushed as anybody else. However, you know that if it ever happens, you will survive with your self-esteem intact, with your head up and with dignity. You realize that even though you might love your partner very much, s/he is not the only compatible creature on earth, and that you would eventually find happiness with someone else. Such feelings give you a sense of security and strength to trust, and allow you to be comfortable in the relationship. This, in turn, boosts the chances of a lasting and fulfilling relationship. The only word of caution: Make sure your partner does not perceive your unshakable lack of jealousy as lack of interest or affection.

Jealousy and your emotions/thinking patterns
Your score = 6

At the emotional and cognitive level, you seem to be perfectly in control. Your test score shows that in terms of trusting your partner, you are a total optimist. You expect the best and give your partner the benefit of the doubt. You do not get upset about minor things. You can perfectly deal with the fact that your partner interacts with other people, even if you know that your mate might find them physically or spiritually attractive. The basic trust enables you to feel secure and in control. This way, you can avoid feeling anxious, hurt and betrayed because of things that are not worth such emotions. This certainly makes your relationships very pleasant, for you as well as for your partner.

Jealous behavior
Your score = 4

WOW! You seem to do the right thing in every potentially jealousy-evoking situation. If you are not jealous, then this is just a logical consequence. If you are jelaous, then you somehow manage to keep your head and control your behavior. You still feel tormented but you have the restraint not to act upon it. On one hand, that is fantastic - jealousy can wreak havoc on the best of relationships. On the other hand, you may be accumulating a lot of pent up frustration; a time bomb just waiting to go off. The solution is not, though, to let it all out in a big explosion. Instead, you should work on the emotions that are at the root of your jealousy and continue to keep the behavior in check.

Irrational jealousy
Your score = 4

You appear to be very rational when it comes to jealousy-provoking situations. If you ever get upset, it is probably for a very good reason.

Dependency issues
Your score = 5

You do not seem to have any dependence problems. You feel you are an individual separate from your partner, and you do not depend solely on him/her for gratification of all your needs. That is very healthy.

Self-esteem issues
Your score = 6

It appears that you do not have any serious self-esteem problems, at least not when your love life is concerned.

Control issues
Number of endorsed controlling statements: 0

This test did not detect any indication of controlling behavior on your part.

How jealous are you?

Thursday, August 08, 2002

Stephen King Songwriting

I write too much.

That is, I put in waaay too much effort into lyrics when I write songs, making them longer than they need to be. From a radio-and-audience-friendly standpoint, of course. The Artist in me says that I should put in however many stanzas I damn well feel like, but the performer in me counters that I'm not only playing for myself but for other people as well.

Excessively long songs can tire out a crowd, especially if you're still an unknown and haven't built up a devotion from people that would make them want to sit through long songs. My compromise: Editing shorter "radio versions" of my songs with fewer stanzas, but preserving the originals for future use when we are (hopefully) more popular and the fans can't get enough.

Song share now: One of my most complicated songs to date, both lyrics and music wise. Played it at the July Poetry Reading, and it's roots came about from a two-hour conversation in a Burger King at Banawe Avenue during a rainy night, where I finally let all my cards on the table to a this girl that I was courting (yeah, you read that right) and got turned down in spectacular fashion.

I learned a lot from that experience (and one more after that just to hammer it into my thick head): That if there is someone you like, don't dance around your feelings. Let that person know. Put the ball in their court. Either way, you save yourself a lot of heartache.

Where Do We Go From Here?

It's been three days
Of cloudy weather but there's no rain
The heaven's turned a darker shade of gray
From holding back the storm I think I feel the same

There's something I need to confess to you
I haven't been completely honest with the truth
There's no more time to talk in metaphor
When I told you I was just a friend... I wanted so much more

It was supposed to be a perfect plan
I'd win your heart by attaining first your friendship
Every single thing I've tried to do
Has been designed to show a worthy man... the only one for you

You say you're sorry but you don't feel the same
And my body goes numb as it finally starts to rain

Where do we go from here?
I don't know what to tell you, except that this time I'm being sincere
Where do we go from here?
I don't know if our friendship can recover from this I fear
Hiding the tears in my eyes
Don't wanna ask the question
Where do we go from here?

Recall the night that you confessed to me
Your hopes and dreams and how my comfort set you free
From the Azkaban of your regret
That kind of moment one tends to not forget

But now you look me in the eye and say
That I was the only one who felt this way
I know you know the truth so tell me why
You feel the need to play amnesiac... and tear me up inside

I'd give up five years of my life for you
But I'm not sure that I can say the opposite is true

Where do we go from here?
I don't know what to tell you, except that this time I'm being sincere
Where do we go from here?
I don't know if our friendship can recover from this I fear
Hiding the tears in my eyes
Don't wanna ask the question
Where do we go from here?


How much abuse am I supposed to take?
For me to prove what kind of lover I would make
You believe by pushing me away
Then you'll see for yourself I'm here to stay

Well that's what sets the two of us apart
'Cause I would never be so reckless with your heart
God you refuse to even recognize
All the pain that I am going through... I finally realize

Lies or denial it doesn't matter anymore
The rain's finally over and I slowly turn to go

Where do we go from here?
I don't know what to tell you, except that this time I'm being sincere
Don't want this to be the end
But I'm just not strong enough to go back to being friends
Hiding the tears in your eyes
Finally got my answer
But what about us?

Where do we go from here
(Would you have fallen for me?)
Where do we go from here
(If I'd done things differently?)
Where do we go
I don't know what else to tell you

Guess it'll be goodbye.

Good Morning

Just as a personal challenge to myself, I have tried my own little 40 Days and 40 Nights for the past week. If you're a Seinfeld fan you could also say I've become the "Master of my Domain". The first few days were pretty manageable; Okey lang. I can be disciplined when I need to be.

This morning though, was harder-- I mean, difficult for me to get out of bed. My whole body was stiff-- I mean, tense from all the pressure I've undergone the past week. Trying to erect-- I mean, prepare a plan for next week whether we go to Baguio or Tagaytay is tricky since everyone seems to be noncommittal. I had better loosen up before I go to work I lest I rub anyone the wrong way-- I mean stroke. I mean jerk! I mean....

Oh fudge. How long until saturday?...........

Wednesday, August 07, 2002


Last week, Nelz and I had dinner with a friend -- let's call him Gary -- who was celebrating the birthday of his boyfriend, who incidentally has been with him about a week. Nelz had warned me beforehand that Gary -- although nice -- had a tendency to fish for gossip and had a vicious side to him. So I was careful to be on my guard and not give too much info away.

During the meal, Gary turns to me and asks me: "So, Ian: What is it you like about Nelson?" An innocent enough question I guess, but given all the stories that Nelz has told me about Gary I was cautious. I decided to be oblique and totally honest at the same time, and I replied wholeheartedly: "Everything".

That wasn't enough for him though, and pressed the issue. That's when Nelz's other friend -- who we will call Peter for the duration of this anecdote -- came to our rescue and asked him what his beau saw in him. The birthday boy thought about it a bit and answered: "He pampers me."

Now, I'm no relationship expert by anyone's standards, but I have to think that when a significant other is asked what they like about their partner, and the first thing they come up with is "Because he buys me stuff", that can't be a good sign.

Fair's fair, so I gave Gary a more concrete reason why I liked Nelz so much. "We connected" I told him. And it was the simple truth. More than physical attraction, more than common interests, more than similar geographical and economic situations. Gary seemed satisfied with that answer and began asking us to evaluate their pairing. "We connect naman, di ba?" he said. Of course, I was polite; telling him yeah sure of course you are, and it will only get stronger as time goes on. But from what I've seen, I wouldn't bet too much on this particular pair. Sorry.

Then I got to thinking again. Isn't connection something that only you can figure out, and no one else? I mean, that's the whole point of connection. This unspoken bond between the two of you where something is shared even when no words are said. Nelz and I are relaxed enough with each other that we can let stretches of silence overtake our conversations, and we feel no need to fill the space with awkward small talk; Just like Meg Ryan in City of Angels (yes, babe, I know you hate her, but that was a great point. and a great movie pa rin. ;) ).

And if you have to ask someone else if the two of you are connected or not, I think you've answered your own question.

Tuesday, August 06, 2002

Name Analysis

There's this interesting site that analyzes your first name for free. I have to admit, some of the stuff they came up with was pretty on the mark.

Here's what they had to say about my name:

Your first name of Ian creates a serious, thoughtful nature, shrewd, efficient, and business-minded. You are one to make your own decisions, and not be influenced by others. You desire independence and freedom from the authority and interference of others. You are not overly ambitious, preferring instead just to seek stable, settled conditions which are adequate to meet your responsibilities.

In your personal relations with others, you are inclined to be rather serious, and not to see the humour others see, or to respond spontaneously. Your positive manner and outlook can make others feel that you are imposing your will on them and even interfering in their affairs. Weaknesses in your health caused by the influence of this name centre in the head. Head colds, sinus conditions, hay-fever, and weak eyes are relative conditions. Also, your tendency to worry can lead to insomnia and other overwrought conditions.

I'm not that self-aware, so I don't really know how correct it is. I do know for a fact it was eerily accurate with Nelz. I'll leave that to him on his blog, if he so chooses.

If you wanna try it yourself, go here.

New Color Scheme

What do you guys think? Be honest, please.......

Monday, August 05, 2002

Trying to be an Angel

I've always prided myself on being a safe driver. While some of my more adventurous friends have derided me for taking way to much time to get anywhere ("Si Ian ang nagmamaneho? Mamaya pa tayo!..."), I've taken solace in how I've never been in a major accident and have almost never been cited with a traffic violation.

Which is why I was so infuriated/appalled/amazed that I racked up THREE violations within the span of ten days just last month. Just as Vulcans, who live a life of repressed feelings, must every seven years succumb to a lust-and emotion-driven-frenzy of a mating ritual called a Pon-farr as a sort of release for their way of living, was this run of tickets my own Pon-Farr? The Traffic Karma gods making sure that I made up my average along with everyone else?

Nelz smugly points out that none these incidents happened while he was with me; that he is the Charmed One and thus I am protected from hungry traffic enforcers via his own goddess powers. I laughed, but after those ten days, I'm inclined to believe him.

I spent P900 total in payoffs; not because I didn't want to go to any "Traffic Seminar" (which is all bullshit, by the way, it's just copspeak for "let's work this out on our own") I have paid my fines the 'right' way and there is no seminar, just a fine. The worst you get out of it is the inconveniently long wait that naturally comes from bureaucracy.

Yes, I do feel guilty, in a way. I, have paid a bribe. I have fed the machine that keeps this corrupt country where it is. I can no longer rail against other people paying bribes without taking time to remember that i myself am guilty. I rationalize it by telling myself that this isn't black and white; that there are some forms of corruption I will never condone (election fraud, for example) and besides, I've learned my lesson. I'm a whole lot more careful on the road again. Which is the whole point, right?

I guess that explains the events that took place in my dream last night. My brother and I were on the road near Club Filipino Avenue, along Montessori. I was in my car, Marco on a very cool motorcycle. It was late at night, and the two of us being brothers, decided to compete a bit by outracing each other. (something which I never do in real life because along with being a safe sammy, I am absolutely terrible when attempting to drive fast)

Marco of course, was winning, culminating in him overtaking me fron the right side in a very flashy and dangerous move. Naturally traffic enforcers popped up and flagged him down for such a display, and I made sure to gloat at him as I kep driving, very carefully of course.

Then some more enforcers flagged me down. Being the good boy that I am, I stop and roll down my window, because I know I'm not guilty of anything.

Me: Anong problema, boss?
Cop: Sobrang mabagal ka magmaneho, sobrang maingat! Ay Don't Layk eet!
Me: *stunned silence*
Cop: (to his companion) Sulat mo dyan: "Trying to be an Angel"! (yes, this was going to be the actual charge)

That was the final straw. I felt my blood boil and my rage rise as I prepared to defend myself. I was going to demand an explanation and get down each and every one of their names. What the *bleep* was that charge? There was no way in hell I was going to pay THIS fine, god dammit!

That's when I woke up. My pulse was racing, I was breathing heavily, my nostrils were flaring. Had Nelz been sleeping beside me and asked what was up I might have yelled at him right there because I was in full-on fight mode. I looked at the clock. it was 4 in the morning. I was so pissed off that I actually woke myself up with my own anger.

Has this ever happened to anyone else?

Pop Quiz

A genie/Angel/Deity of your choice appears before you and tells you he will grant you one wish. The only thing you can't ask for is more wishes.

You have ten seconds to decide on what you want. Then you lose the wish forever.

What do you wish for?

Sunday, August 04, 2002


I think about it a lot: About God, the afterlife, and how it could all possibly be in the face of the skepticism and scientific theorems that state that no one is in charge of the universe. Some people believe that the afterlife, and the very existence of God, are concepts that our minds in their current mortal form cannot even begin to comprehend.

I liken it to trying to explain music to a deaf person. It is something they simply do not have the tools to understand. But that doesn't mean music does not exist.

And so it is with God.


It hurts that you're feeling this way.

It hurts that I may have to let you go for you to fulfill your potential.

It hurts because I will let you go, if that's what it takes, because I love you.

It hurts knowing you're in pain, and I can do nothing about it.

I don't know what to do..... except to feel hurt along with you. I know that's not nearly enough.


Friday, August 02, 2002

Second Month

There are several reasons I choose to count and commemorate our relationship. Some more profound than others.

I count the months because I've never really been in a stable, loving relationship, or even truly experienced one firsthand, as my parents quickly screwed everything up. The only thing I have to go on are television and movies (yeah, that's realistic) and Adam and Charmaine. The small insecure remnant of the Person That I Used to Be is still waiting for that one argument that will bring myself crashing back to alone-ness once again.

I count the months because I am still old-fashioned. Reaching milestones are things to be celebrated as they signify an achievement; that we've been able to build something that in this day and age, seems harder and harder to find, still blows me away. Btw, I also treat my birthdays as a big (and joyous!) deal, so there's a reminder for you already. ;)

I'm ashamed to admit it, but I also count the months because a part of me -- a small insignificant part of me, I assure you -- wants to exceed the number of months from your previous relationship; longest you've ever been in. This reason is purely dumb male competitiveness and pride, and rest assured has no say in my actions.

And finally, I count the months because it makes me happy. Because you make me happy.

I love you, Nelz.

Thursday, August 01, 2002

Kitty Power 3

At first I was deathly worried about our dog Vanessa and Yzma getting along. When I had first brough the little white kitten home, Yzma went into defensive cat-stance (back arched, hackles raised, low-pitched, meowing) at the sight of our daschund-miniature pinscher. Vanessa responded with warning growls telling him not to get too close.

Because of that little display I took great pains to keep the both of them separate lest Vanessa lose her patience and snap Yzma's neck or something (not that she has ever done anything like that before, mind you!) Yet this evening it looked like tensions had dissipated between them.

Yzma kept going towards Vanessa, while Vanessa kept moving away, unsure of what to make of this furry little thing (of course, I am merely extrapolating, as I have no access as to what goes on inside a canine's thought processes. For all I know, to her Yzma was like that annoying little cousin you just want to get away from). She didn't issue any warning growls however, and I took that to be a good sign. So, with both me and my sister nearby ready to grab the two of them should things get ugly, we let the two of them cautiously sniff each other.

Yzma apparently has lost all fear of Vanessa as he kept rubbing up against her as cats do. Vanessa was apparently creeped out by this and kept moving away. Yzma, encouraged by this of course had to follow the big menacing dog with the sharp teeth that wanted nothing to do with him. (yet another reason to keep him indoors Nelz; looks like our little baby's common sense hasn't grown in yet). The weird thing was, when Yzma's attentions were briefly diverted elsewhere and turned away from Vanessa, it was the dog's turn to now follow him and tentatively sniff his bottom, as dogs do.

When Yzma would face Vanessa and move in her direction, Vanessa would again start moving away, the whole thing turning into a Bizarro-world version of cat-and-mouse. As strange as this was, after that the two of them went and did something evern stranger:

Yzma poked her head against Vanessa's underside and began nursing from one of Vanessa's nipples.

I'm speechless. I just wish I had a camera to capture it.

I don't have her abs, but I AM neurotic

Journey to World Domination Update: IMODO.COM has been linked by trixy's blog, where she describes me as and I quote:

a male version of SATC's Carrie, only that he has found "The One"

HAHAHAHAHAHA!! I'm extremely flattered Trixy, as Sex and The City is one of my all-time favorite shows. And Carrie, as flakey as she is, is a great writer. So I'm doubly delighted. Although now I feel like I should work on that blog entry about relationships, complete with "Episode Question".

And yes, I really do feel that Nelz is The One. Of course, only time will bear me out, so let's all find out together, shall we?

*hums SATC theme*

Kitty Power 2

Last night as I was reading, little Yzma was making a nuisance of himself by crouching and pouncing on every single thing he could reach. My shoes. The magazine I was reading. The carpet. My fingers (ouch). It looks cute, but it also reminds me that cats, this one included, are killers. Yzma was playing, yes, but he was also practicing his hunting skills. Hold. Tense. Pounce. Attack. Kill. Far too young to have been taught this behavior from his mother, the instructions of how to effectively capture and dispatch prey have already been encoded into Yzma's DNA like his white fur coat and blue eyes.

Look at a cat's teeth. Razor sharp, upper and lower jaws. Retractable claws that can hook onto trees, clothing, and escaping prey. A quickness and jumping ability that the best human athletes can only dream of. A true carnivore, a cat's protein requirements are twice that of a dog. If a dog and a cat, both domesticated, were to be abandoned, the cat has a far better chance of surviving than his canine companion. That's why they coined the term "going feral" to denote a housecat going back to its' primal instincts. And as far as I can tell, there's no canine equivalent.

Cats are the perfect hunting machines. That's part of the allure of having a cat as a pet, I think: Having a little piece of the primal wilderness under our subjugation.

Or so we think. They'd hunt us if they could.

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