I'm currently out of fighting form. Really hoped to blog about a lot of things. Among them is, of course, the cuisine-as-metaphor-for-diaspora-film, American Adobo. I have watched the film. I thought it was a noble project but the scope was too ambitious. Jessie, our beloved bluesy Kantogirl, has a good take on the matter. I'll leave you to her while I take my leave and recollect on some things.

My meeting with two UPS batchmates and one upperbatchman left me a bit more contemplative than usual. Since the flurry of weekend events, I haven't stopped to process it all. I probably won't publish my findings here though, I'm rediscovering the art of journal-writing in good old vellum, ancient papyrus, dear paper! My last entry was dated November 2, 2001. It was a reading of Benjamin Singkol by F. Sionil Jose.

Belle contemplates on the meaning of blogging. And she got to the bottomline. It's nothing else if not personal. We were just hoping she would not consider unblogging. Read and decide, if you must, dear reader.

I shall take my leave. I hope this won't take long!

You are unlinked prodigal. I have no clue this will feel like this. I have the homesite. What would your role be? Alas, there will be no shadow site this time huh?

Will you be transposed little blog? Hmm... Maybe you should be glad Geocities is having trouble with bloggers. You keep your blog spot. For now!

I have corrected some posts' typographical errors plainly because I was pissed. No matter if the dates will go screwed. Even posterity is finite anyway. And I don't need the phallic projection of the mind extending way beyond my lifetime.

Why pierce the future? In any case, I will cause ripples whether I'm qualified or not. Worthy or Unworthy. Read or Unread.

That was so cheesy. Just like a movie where the title is so markedly stated, like a damn punchline.

I'm beginning to love blogging here. Metablogging is much more convenient in this site. I'm thinking of giving this blog a new template. In honor of my ailing friend, I guess.

I also learned that my friend Jess reads this (or read this). I'm cool with that. She's my template anyway. But I'll refabricate the illusion that only I can see this damned repository.

Really so damn guilty about pressuring my friend to join our Friday meeting.

Elsewhere, my job is beginning to bring greater promise despite my worsening attitude toward the staff. Despite and because of everything, my need to leave is greater than before.

Else-elsewhere, Dennis the UPSandigan alumni is a troubled man. But the batch is not at all disheartening. As usual, it's me.