Ice Storm

Spokes
Originally uploaded by Mike Dec

This is what happens when you leave your bike at the train station during an ice storm. After a long day at work, I came to my bike froczen to the train station railing at 9:30 PM. I had to rub the lock for about a minute before it actually came undone. After carrying the bike for about 5 minutes, I was smart enough to knock the ice off the tires so that I could at least ROLL the bike. This is what it looked like the day after (still frozen). It was cold walk to work that day.

Anticlimactic

Anticlimactic
Originally uploaded by Mike Dec

Certifies that I finished my MBA. After all those weekends in the library and nights of studying, this letter is all I have to show for it. No graduation, no fanfare, not even any classmates to share the moment with (just a student loan to add to my list of monthly bills to pay). Maybe someday I'll be glad I did it but man, this feels like a total waste of my time and money today.

Daemons

I'm in the middle of reading "The Golden Compass", a fantasy book where humans have their souls (called daemon) on the outside in the form of an animal depending on their personality. Pretty cool, if you think about it, like having your pet with you at all times.
Here's link to the site where you can answer 20 questions and see what your daemon (pronounced "demon") would be like. Reminds me a little like zodiac signs crossed with the Chinese horoscope.



Ooops, actually this is a link for you to see if my daemon fits me. Go ahead and approve of my daemon or just skip to the part where you determine your own.

To the studs

To the studs
Originally uploaded by Mike Dec

Matt ripped out my bathroom walls. I've lived with these ugly stucco'ed walls for 7 years. But as the walls came down, part of me asked myself if this was worth it: the dirt, dust, and debris. Matt was nice enough to leave me with a functioning bathroom.

In the Midst of Battle

What does a depressive attack feel like? When Kipp asked me to describe it, I came to the realization that for some people, it truly is a foreign feeling, like how I would ask someone what it would feel like to be weightless or to give birth. I've lived with my depression for as long as I can remember, so to put it into words was difficult. How can you put into words something that is always somewhat present, yet can suddenly grow into something that possesses your entire being? My therapist once told me that he descibes it as like being somewhat under the weather all the time. The ensuing image of tiredness and body aches does ring somewhat true, but I think it falls short.

My attacks feels very close to having your heart broken. I'm sure each person remembers a time, usually during adolescence, when things don't work out for a romance that you've been pining for. If you can recall that feeling, that's what my attacks feel like: a mixture of disappointment, embarassment, shame, and foolishness. The barrage of self talk is paralyzing: How stupid of me to think that I could have a good life. If people really knew me, they would laugh out loud and say that I deserve none of the things that I aspire for. "You just cry in the corner but don't expect any sympathy from us."

I've slowly forced myself to reach out to other people. I always wait till the worst is over, the day after when I can share with less shame and be more articulate and more intelligent about the whole thing. Even then, it always feels very foolish. Remember that adolescent heartbreak I asked you to remember? Inevitably, as the weeks passeed, I'm sure when you recounted to all your friends every detail of that heartache till you're almost afraid to bring it up because you yourself are so tired of it. That's the feeling I get when I talk about my depression to others, a feeling I've live with for at least 30 years. I'm so sick of me. They always tell you that depression is not a sign of weakness. But in the midst of it, I not only feel weak but I feel like a burden to society and to myself.

Meanwhile, life goes on. And as I trudge through a day with this monkey on my back, I forget that what I'm feeling may come from an internal imbalance of chemicals. I start to look outward to the source of my grief: the new job that's exhausting, the single life, where I live, all the demands of living. The thing that my therapist told me that convinced me to try medication was that depressed people make poor decisions. It takes every ounce of my logical mind to convince me not to quit my job, move to another state, or do something to hurt myself. I can totally understand why seemingly intelligent people abuse alcohol or do drugs. In the midst of it, I feel like I'm fighting a losing battle.

Nothing Short of Amazing

My sister Maricris moved into my Mom's room recently. She talked about the renovations she did: retiling, painting, and more importantly, editing. To say my mom was a packrat is an understatement. My dad used to complain that he had to perform acrobatics just to reach the windows because she had boxes two deep against the perimeter of the wall. Maricris had to wade through termite-infested floorboards, mattresses that were at least 20 years old, and 9 kids worth of mementos (or as Little Edie would say in Grey Gardens "memorabeeya"). Here's the tour she posted on youtube, with a bonus of meeting Bailey, the new dog in residence.

Tita Ermi

Tita Ermi is my mom's childhood friend who moved to NYC in 1967. Thought it would be nice to record a message from her to my mom and they can watch it back home in the Philippines:

Mugsy at a party

IMG_7440
Originally uploaded by Tengaport

Went to Alan's house for a Father's Day Celebration. Gues this could be my father's day portrait.

More TV Nostalgia

I was hanging out with Alan this afternoon watching "I Love the 70's". This got me thinking about two shows that I used to LOVE in the 70's/early 80's. Found some clips of one of them. Still looking for the other one.

Make sure you watch this till the relay race. That's where you see the most stars.....






And of course, the TUG-O-WAR

First Row In

First Row In
Originally uploaded by Mike Dec.

Matt finally had a free weekend to tile the floor. I only did a fifth of the work as his assistant which consisted of drilling backerboard down, chipping away at dry thin set, helping sponge out grout, and a million trips up and down stairs to the yard where the wet saw was. Matt of course was 5x more tired from having to cut tiles the size of placemats. But it was also my first week at my new job so I was already exhausted from the week. Then I had hauling out the crap to the curb for bulk day. But the bathroom floor looks exactly how I wanted it, the cast iron sink is in (albeit nonfunctional) and still loads of work to do. Ahhh the things I get myself into.....

Beef tapa from Pandan

Beef tapa from Pandan
Originally uploaded by Mike Dec.

I've been going to Pandan in Bloomfield NJ for over a year now, dragging some of my friends to it as well. I had a Thanksgiving dinner one time with crispy pata from them instead of turkey (crispy pata=deep fried pork leg). So it was great to read the New York Times gave them favorable reviews.(Their advice: order anything with "grilled" or "pork" in the description.) And it is the FIRST Filipino restaurant to be reviewed by the Times, beating the culinary Cendrillon in So Ho. Not bad for a corner restaurant/former deli that can seat probably 20 at most.

Doing Creative Work

Everyone who reads this blog knows I love This American Life. Well, on one of the many times I'm surfing around YouTube, I come across this interview of Ira Glass (the host)where he talks of how there's often a lag between one's taste level and the actual moment when one's creation meets it. What's most frustrating about this process to creative types is that one is fully aware of how much one's efforts suck. And this is when most people quit out of frustration. But he advises them to keep at it, to do as much work as they can, because it ultimately gets better. here's the actual interview (he has a funny voice but just keep with it):



Nowadays, the closest thing I do creatively is work on my condo. But though I no longer draw, or paint, or create pieces, I feel like my medium is my life. I work hard to do meaningful work, to volunteer, to find meaningful relationships, and to stay fit. I'm constantly creating, forming my life to standards that I've set according to my "taste level". Sometimes though, I look at my life and say "It sucks!It's not what I set out to do." But all I can do is to keep at it, to keep doing work, and (hopefully) to not quit.

Celebrity Siting!

In a crowded cab ride from Gym bar to Mr. Black, I spotted a tall skinny brunette standing on a crowded street corner in the West Village. It was Cameron Diaz! What the hell was she doing shopping on Saturday night in one of the most touristy areas in NYC? I thought she looked lonely. I also thought that I really need to stop reading the US Weekly's at work......

TV Nostalgia

I spent a ton of time looking for these (ok, it was about 20 minutes)

Rushing

The Washington Post recently conducted an experiment by having Joshua Bell, arguably one of the best violin players, stand in a DC subway station and play on a Stradivarius for about 45 minutes. They did it to see if beauty could transcend the rush hour. In short, the answer was no. He received $32 and change from 27 people out of the 1070 people who rushed by and only 7 people stopped to listen for a minute. When the story was published, some people wrote back to say that they actually wept when they read it. The findings resonated with so many people, including myself. For a short video of the experiment and the article itself, click ......I tried to put a link but couldn't do it. Go wo washingtonpost.com and look for "Pearls before Breakfast" for a great article and amazing videos of the performance/experiment.

Elephants in NYC

Last night was the annual midnight walk of the elephants from Long Island to Madison Square Graden in Manhattan for the PT Barnum and Bailey Circus. From what I understand, the train that they come in is 1 mile long, thus can not be accomodate in any station in in Manhattan. Plus there's a problem of getting them up the escalators. So they get off in Long island City, walk through the Midtown tunnel (under the East River), and walk (trunk to tail) to the Garden. They even swing by Macy's! The video shows not only the elephants but also animal rights activists protesting. I love this city!

This American Life

I cannot say enough about This American Life, a PRI show that plays on Public Radio. I still remember the first time I heard their show in it's entirety. I was packing the antidepressants my sister Sasa had sent me to smuggle into the Philippines for my Mom. I began waiting for the shows to air then discovered Podcasting, which makes it possible for me to listen to the show anytime. This month, they spun-off a TV program from the radio program, and it was quite good. Alan showed how to set up a link so here it is: This American Life. How appropriate that the show I link features another thing Alan exposed me to: a prank by Improv Everywhere. Alan, if the tale of the bull doesn't interest you, fast forward to the second half of the show.

On mastectomies and sex

My mom had her mastectomy today. Apparently it went well, this I know from calling Marijo at 5 am (5 pm Manila time). Despite the less-than-ideal relationship I have with my mom, I'm no longer surprised by how pervading my worry is about her throughout my day. The death of my dad showed me that you never really get over your parents, no matter how much you've prepared for their loss by emotional or geographic separation.

Yet many times these past couple of days, I've had the urge to post some inane thing about life on this blog. This American Life had a great segment on people reflecting on thier relationship with their television. I had a series of photos of (yet again) Mugsy and Jakob. Yet I hesitated, knowing that other people (well, mainly family members) might read it and think how selfish of me to think about things like these at a time like this.

Of course I know I'm wrong. For one thing, none of them read this blog. Also, they're actually concerned that I'm worrying too much about her when I do call. And more importantly, I know all of them are leading their lives as before. Granted my mom takes up a lot of their time. But I think all of them, like me, continue on living: laughing at our dogs, imagining what we would like for dinner tonight, chatting nonsense with our friends. I heard this poem on the radio about this woman feeling guilty, almost immoral, about having sex right after September 11 and it definitely resonated with me. But maybe it's this spirit in us to actually keep on living in the shadow of death that is the more moral choice. As I'm reminded that my time here on earth is finite, how could I not eat, laugh, chat, fuck, and dance my way through it.

Recycling

Recycling
Originally uploaded by Mike Dec.

Little did I know that my mom's frugality and my desire to be earth-friendly would cross paths in the form of shopping bags. I now collect not only my shopping bags but even plastic bags I find at work so I can reuse them.

Mammograms

Just found out that my mom's mammogram showed something and that she will have to go back to the hospital to have it checked out. The info I got was that she will have to be operated on and then they can figure out if it is benign or malignant. Isn't a biopsy in order and can't that be done without "surgery"? So many questions in my head, thus the posting at 5:24 am. Thank god for WebMD and Google.

Generation Blog

An exerpt from a New York Magazine piece last week:

"It’s been a long time since there was a true generation gap, perhaps 50 years—you have to go back to the early years of rock and roll, when old people still talked about “jungle rhythms.” Everything associated with that music and its greasy, shaggy culture felt baffling and divisive, from the crude slang to the dirty thoughts it was rumored to trigger in little girls. That musical divide has all but disappeared. But in the past ten years, a new set of values has sneaked in to take its place, erecting another barrier between young and old. And as it did in the fifties, the older generation has responded with a disgusted, dismissive squawk. "

This cultural divide that they are talking about is the culture of blogging/online profiling so prevalent in the younger generation. Actually, this describes what you are reading right now:a public glimpse into the private life of, well, namely, me.

A friend of mine once asked me how I can so share my self so publicly. I once asked some friends of mine if they had blogs and they told me " I like to keep my private life private." Point taken. What I began to wonder was "Then why do I blog?"

Granted this whole thing started as a potential way for my family to share stories, inspired by Alan's "The Milton Hilton". But even when it became evident that it would be a one-man show, I continue to do it. Lay out things about myself that most people would consider private: my battle with depression, my sexuality, or even just the inane stuff that wouldn't be considered revelatory but just boring (like which of my pets threw up on the rug).

Maybe it's a reaction to all the shame I have in side. I think the combination of a Catholic upbringing, growing up gay, having depression, and just the Filipino culture of conflict avoidance just made me so good at hiding things. Alanis Morissette, when asked why she exposes so much of herself in her songs, once said that the difference between privacy and secrecy is that secrecy comes from a place of hiding something, and that she constantly struggles to accept all parts of herself. This rings so true for me (as I'm sure for most people) since I can easily show my acceptable public face yet endlessly struggle to hide things in me that I find repulsive. So maybe if I just publicly but quietly share some "unacceptable" parts of myself, then I may, not necessarily heal, but relax my hold on these which merely make me human and just let me be.

Thursday Nights

POD-070208
Originally uploaded by JenFu.

Some people have their bowling night, others have a movie night. I have my volunteering-climbing-dinering night. Tired and hungry, we are all still able to labor through bad diner food and catch up with each other's lives, as well as gossip about people who don't give a rat's ass about us (what? Justin and Jessica Biel?).

Mugsy Update

Mugsy with Ball
Originally uploaded by Mike Dec.

In the middle of my two week vacation in the Philippines, I learned that Mugsy had suffered from apparent sudden paralysis. Phone calls with friends and the consulting vet revealed that he had apparently ruptured a disc and would need further medical intervention. I was able to make arrangements for him to stay at my vet's office as I tried to enjoy the rest of my stay with family and friends, keeping my apprehension at bay for a full week till I could see the Mugster. I have never seen him actually cry till I picked him up at the vet's office. He was still quite ataxic but the steroids seem to have stabilized the injury. After a couple of days, it looked like he would be okay. He's back to his energetic self, with me constantly worrying he'll hurt his back again. But what kind of life would it be for him if I kept him from enjoying his life? A long time back, even before I had Mugsy, I took a course on Physical Therapy for dogs. So I dusted my book off, took a ball home from work, and we've been having daily sessions. My hands seem to work better than the ball. All the same, I think he'll be fine. Thanks to everytone for all the kind words and letters of support.

Eleven Fifty Five PM

Eleven Fifty Five PM
Originally uploaded by Mike Dec.

After driving home from work so sleepy (like I was at the Roxy till 6 am), I get home at 4 pm and sleep till now. Jet lag sucks! Now's it's time for some TV, laundry, and cooking till it's time to go to work again.

De Castro Siblings

De Castro Siblings
Originally uploaded by Mike Dec.

The worst part of visiting Manila is leaving. Spending two weeks with family and friends, people with whom conversations can be picked up as if I never left 15 years ago, people who have shaped my life to what it is now. It cracks the armor that I form against homesickness and leaves me despondent for a good month.

Group Pic

Group Pic
Originally uploaded by Mike Dec.

Manny, Mike, Monica, Mischa, Nikko, Gina, Jomart, Ren, and Jerry

Dinner at Pasto

Originally uploaded by drquimbo.

Kim, Rosella, Duchess, Peter, Mike, Rico

Guesstures

January 6, 2007
Originally uploaded by Tengaport.

Before I take Guesstures home to the Philippines, I wanted to make share the game with my friends in the US. So not only did I make Renu and Fu play it Friday night, I brought it to the Peak Potential annual meeting and had people play it there as well. We had the slippery floors of Alfred and Kate to deal with but we survived two rounds barring any serious injury. Expect more photos and videos of this AWESOME game during my vacation in Manila.