itMIKEbeyou 2.0

Article 013. I’m old, I admit. But I’m also an old soul. There’s a difference. I like classic films and by classic I mean the 80s. Sure, for Generation-X you don’t kinda consider the 80s as “classics” yet but since we are in the 21st century already, it is more than qualified for it to be tagged as one. I say this because the array of movies available at JAL was a bit eclectic. And after a sumptuous meal of beef stew and cold noodles (yummy by the way), the cherry on top is a 2-hour film from the boob tube. Yeah yeah, I did this before on my trip to Hong Kong, did some commentary on a Julia Roberts movie— how many times have I mentioned this woman’s name in my posts? But this time I went a little further back in time. So far back that Doc Brown and Marty would be delighted— Blake Edwards’ Breakfast at Tiffany’s, 1961. I can’t believe it’s on the list as well. Isn’t she just adorable? Her outfits, her aura, her pretty little face. I’ve always admired Audrey Hepburn’s still photo for th...

Article 012. Welp, I’m back at LAX, and as always a few hours early. Have underestimated TSA again on their efficiency. Great job! I sat a few feet away from Gate 153, sipping on my grande Pike and munching on some Cheese Danish. I’m in the middle of my thoughts and my emotions battling out for supremacy over me. On one corner, Team Thoughts is so strained over what I would have to deal with upon my return. I am certain it will drain me of whatever joy I bring back from Japan. On the other corner, Team Emotions is waiting to burst out. Ready to shadow all over my mental disposition so that I can, at least for a week, appreciate great Ramen and be awed by the Land of the Rising Sun. Still don’t know where the tide will swing as I find myself staring into the empty seats in front of me. For now I know I will be processing all these ideas into my iPad and into my blog. I can probably, time-permitting, write a bunch of posts during my trip at the rate I’m going. There is definitely a diffe...

Article 011. The calamari was perfectly battered and dipping it in the creamy cilantro sauce is heavenly. The hibiscus lemonade was tart albeit colorful. Maybe a few more drops of agave and it would’ve been really refreshing. Didn’t stop me from finishing the entire glass though. The steak fajitas was cooked medium-well and had a good bite on it. With guacamole, sour cream and pico de gallo, it was all delectable inside the warm flour tortilla. Overall it was a good meal, complemented by a good conversation with an older, let’s just say lady friend, that I haven’t had the pleasure to personally acquaint with. She had coffee for her drink, which was a bit unusual since coffee is typically after the meal. A margarita would’ve been more fitting and besides, we were in a Mexican restaurant, coffee wasn’t even on the menu. To each his own I suppose. Earlier when I picked her up at her AirBnB, she looked tired. She had that look that prompted me to ask if she was okay to still go out. She sa...

Article 010. I could never really tell the truth behind my parents story. Dad always over exaggerate how he and Mom started dating, that he was this hunk city boy that Mom was head over heels with. I can say Dad got that sense of humor going on for him and he is somewhat of a fashionista so I don’t know. He may attract a certain market especially women in the boonies where Mom, who really is way gorgeous for her surroundings, is from. So there should be some truth in the story except for the claim that he was a hunk. I love you Dad but let’s get real now. Mom is Super Mom, this is no exaggeration. Goes to work and does all the chores. And I mean ALL. THE. CHORES! Even with an open wound or a minor broken bone, wherever part of her body that is, it doesn’t slow her down. Dad is designated errand boy, unless it is in the nearby sari-sari store (retail store) which then defaults to me. Me and my sister’s responsibility was to inch our way into a college degree, which is quintessentia...

Article 009. It was October 12, 2015. Facebook shared a memory of what I posted that day— “ All it takes is one song to bring back a thousand memories! ” I got really excited about this. Well, if you haven’t been paying attention, I always have a reference to either a song or an artist in almost all of my blogs. What can I say? I love music. And my appreciation runs deep. I may have too much to say actually when it comes to this so there maybe a Part 2, maybe even a third. Let’s see how it goes. Oh and by the end of this, I will let you all know what that one song is. Five nights and eight years later (can you do the math?), we are doing a typical “e-numan” session (video call version of inuman = drinking session). The Fab Four— Howard, Dexter, Joffree and me, Tuesday night and Joffree with a revelation. Prior to the assembly, I was already watching some random music videos in YouTube. Not surprisingly a lot of Taylor Swift suggestions with a few Ed Sheeran’s. But for some old school ...

Article 008. Six hours of sleep. Re-energized. Rejuvenated. That’s all you need if you’re at this stage in your life, mid-life. Just a tad too early waking up at 4. Pick up ball is not until 7 so I’m playing some Insane Sudoku to bridge the time while preventing early stages of Alzheimer’s. I ended up snoozing. I set no alarm but luckily woke up at 6:15. Just can’t remember me not having a shirt on. I had my Hanes coming into bed last night. What happened? I mean, it was kinda chilly when I woke up. I was running out of time trying to figure it out so I just dropped the Sherlocking and got geared up. Grabbed my KD4s and backpack on my way to Stanton gym.  There’s no beating a good sweat early in the morning. You feel light. Your lungs are so wide open, the oxygen seems insufficient. But somebody brought donuts, and with the weekly Starbucks coffee supply from Banjo, it kinda defeats the purpose of doing cardio. I had a coconut-sprinkled and about three-quarters of a small cup of da...

Article 007.   Like most men, I think I am programmed to take the beating. I like to take the pain in clandestine fashion. It’s almost an Augean task but the expectation is I’m a guy, so I just shrug it off like sweat off my skin. Everything should be fine after that, no biggie. As if I was built to endure the hurt within my own confines and that reaching out for help is almost taboo to an extent. There was a time I did feel that way and I coped in different ways. There are some who are highly motivated, who would still go through their routine— chores, gym, work. The mental toughness on these people, iron-clad. While the opposite would drink their guts out, play endless Call of Duty or just do nothing but stare into the beyond. I was the latter before the former. A few years back I thought the world was collapsing on me. Except for a trusted few, nobody knew my actual struggle. It is absolutely demoralizing. Depression was real. Good thing I am a socialist, jolly to a degree, my o...

Article 006.   FRIDAY The plan was Oktoberfest in Huntington Beach that night. But Kelly wasn’t feeling well, so it was a scratch midway through the day. I decided to continue to work on my “literature” instead, amazed how inspired I still am at this point to finish an autobiography. Maybe a year tops? We’ll see. I was chatting with Sheila from NYC that afternoon and she asked, “ Why would anyone wanna read about your life? Who the hell are you? ” Valid point. A little harsh but true. I replied with some bruised pride in my voice, “ It’s just for me. I want to read my life in a book, could care less if it sells! ” I would consider it a nice little accomplishment having to document all my memories as far back as I can remember. To think I’m not even a writer writer, just an inspired scribbler.   I texted Howard to see what the 411 is for tonight. He is downing Tanqueray. Imma load up with some Little Caesar’s Thin Crust Pizza. We experimented on Apple’s Share-Play. He plays ...

Article 005.   Rene Russo greeted me this morning, all 45 years old of her. She was too seductive that early in the day, I wasn’t ready. I helplessly gave in to her style, her red hair, her charm and her alluring body. Had me forgetting how I wanted to start my day productive. Good thing she wasn’t staying that long, I can appreciate her to the end. It was still 630, I had time. So instead of scrolling thru the channels to watch KTLA 5 News, which is how I usually start my day, I was stuck three quarters of the way into The Thomas Crown Affair. My best bud Howard calls me on his way to work to do some small talk. I said I’m having an affair with Rene. He said, “ Then I’m having one with Monica Bellucci !” Ooooh that’s a good one. We go about our business as I say goodbye to him and farewell to Miss Russo. Monday, back on my aging ergonomic chair, sitting at my modest of what you can call a corner office. I turned on my laptop and my two monitors, plugged in my phone and cleared a f...

Article 004. Elated would not even cover it. The satisfaction is so capitulating, my body clock doesn’t even know how to react to the cluster of emotions— happiness, anxiety, weariness, fatigue, the time difference and the what-the-hell-happened in the last 24. It is the high that’s inertly happy and uncontrollable. Gosh, it’s been several years since I’ve seen my folks, my sister. Sometimes I wonder if I’ll notice anything different. My old man Ely looks a little frail, a lot skinnier for sure but his spirit has not faltered. His comic relief is priceless. Mommy Dory is as loving and as innocently tactless as she has always been. Love that about her. And the celebrant herself Tizza (more context from the previous blog), well, she is winning. Winning with her career, with her family, basically in life. Deservingly so I should say. Last time I saw my nephew, Noah, he was 5. Now he is the tallest amongst us 7, brother-in-law Norman and niece Thea included. Wishing my two grown men were w...