Short but happy

Splurged on a Fiio E7 DAC/headphone amp and a Grado adaptor to replace my dinky cheap one (which did last me a year), and am currently in the process of ooh-ing and aah-ing over the increased detail, crispness, differentiation, resolution, dynamism, insert-some-other-audiophile-term-I'm-not-really-worthy-of-casting-about of music I thought I already knew. How much of this is attributable to a placebo effect, I wouldn't really know. Merry Consumermas!


We've also released! Such a relief. Of course now the onslaught of bugs, but that's still preferable to antsy anticipation. Bring it on!

Back in the Philippines

So, I've been back in the motherland for almost a week now, and I still haven't gotten into a good routine. I'm not used to having to factor in commute time when considering things such as what time to wake up and what time to start working (not to mention the experience of commuting and taking public transportation here again).


Haven't even visited all the old haunts yet - have yet to hang out at UP. Did spend a delicious, lazy, gluttonous weekend in Bulacan for a thanksgiving-type fiesta last weekend (lechon! kakanin! utter idleness!). 


Haven't met up with anybody yet. I am friendless and aloof. Or just lazy.


Glad to finally have woken up early today, at least, though it was really a fluke more than anything intentional. Maybe today's the day I can start a productive routine again. (Or I could take this morning time and spend it finishing Snow Crash in UP, the weather seems nice and cool...)

Presents

I've never been the gift-giving type. I never know what to give people, and even though I sometimes get the urge to do so, I hesitate because it seems like it would somehow be unfair if I started giving gifts only selectively, but then it seems overwhelming to have to think of giving gifts even just to my very small circle of family, friends, and acquaintances.


Perhaps I'm just too prematurely self-conscious about it, fearing that recipients wouldn't like whatever I get them, and that this would just make them hate or pity me all the more (if they don't already thoroughly loathe me, but then again, I suppose I really wouldn't be giving gifts to those people now, would I?).


It's December, and Christmas is just around the corner, and I'm not yet sure if I'm getting anyone anything. On the other hand, maybe I can guilt myself into finally getting over my stupid fear by thinking of all that I've received over the years, and how now it's time to give back. Hmm, no, not working.

This whole telling people about myself business...

...still sits more than a little uncomfortably with me. This is in no way just an excuse for laziness and mis-scheduling on my part, such that now I have no time to work on an actual entry for today. Not entirely, anyway. (I have less than an hour to come up with something.)


As a child and as I was growing up, I barely had any friends. Now, as you might imagine, this did tend to make me rather sad at times, and even up to now when my mind alights on the subject it can get pretty melancholy. I don't think it's surprising at all for a shy, withdrawn, chubby kid to keep to himself, and at times feel horribly maladjusted and unfit for society.


I kept this all to myself as I simply sat inside my own head, firm in the conviction that even if I had someone to tell, they wouldn't really understand, anyway. Perhaps at first I drew some little consolation in this perceived unfathomableness, but soon enough I grew to think that it was my own damn fault for being somehow defective, somehow not quite as suited as the average person to the average life by 


You've heard this story before, I'm sure. I found solace in the solitary pleasures of reading (and for stretches in high school and during college, of trying to write and keep up a blog), and never got close to anyone even though a part of me must have always kept yearning for this so-called friendship so thought highly of by normal society, i.e., the people who actually had it.


Now I'm a little older, a little more experienced, and I wouldn't be so quick to label myself friendless. Even if I do still feel a little socially and emotionally stunted, clueless and clumsy (oh boy, the things my clumsiness have led me into and out of, but those are stories for another time), and not at home in the world of men, more and more I'm beginning to (finally) convince myself that this isn't a hopeless state of affairs: I'm young, the world is big, and I have time yet to grow into the life I want to be living.

Keeping on keeping on

Finally got myself back on the treadmill this afternoon, after many weeks of inactivity. Who needs nicotine when endorphins are more readily available, and, even better, free? (Sigh, I wish I could say that with as much conviction as it deserves. I don't think my future looks too good, since we'll be flying back home soon, to that magical land of cheap booze and cigarettes, oh, and friends to enjoy them with, right, that's important too.)


While I was actually in the moment of exerting myself and trying to pull just a little more energy to run just a little bit further, it hit me: isn't this just what it takes to get anywhere in life, and to develop any skill or aspect of oneself? Yes, yes, to be sure, I was tired and endorphin-addled and much too proud of myself for breaking a sweat, but even now, calmer and cooled down, I think there's a lot of truth to that realization.


A truth, mind you, that isn't always as convincing as it is when it manifests itself in such a straightforward manner and in a simple situation. Keep running, gradually increase your pace or duration or distance, and you'll grow better at it. Simple, no two ways about it. (Well, maybe I do simplify a bit too much, since there is of course the problem of hydration and the dangers of overtraining and possible injury, but the fundamental concept is still one of progressive improvement, right? And that improvement can be measured quite precisely and unquestionably.)


Unfortunately with most other things there are many orders of magnitude more factors to consider, and it isn't always easy to see through all the perceived obstacles and reasons for hesitation to the fact that's still there, behind everything. Just keep on keeping on (hopefully of course learning and enjoying yourself as you go).

This is harder than I thought

...or I've just grown to have higher expectations of myself and what constitutes blog-worthy material. I gamely jumped back into doing this regularly again, and while I don't regret that in the least, I have to admit that I thought I'd be coming up with better posts in much less time that I've been taking with these recent ones.

Perhaps it's just that spending much more than an hour or two of effort on blog posts seems like such an alien concept to me. Isn't a blog a place to be entirely self-indulgent and not care about what readers (if any) would think? 

No, I don't think so. At least I don't want this blog to be such a place again.