My babies need to get laid.

What do you want to be when you grow up?

A question we often ask kids, a question we were asked when we were kids and perhaps, even wrote an essay or two for english class ... the "what-did-you-do-last-summer-stuff-kind-of-thing. I sort of talked to my nephew, the youngest one last summer, for the sake of my very-disappointed-mother. My birth brother's whole family have been living off her in the sense that she still pays for his house's water bills and stuff. My mother sent his sons to college and the last of them, the youngest went for two years and just decided to drop out. A taste of earning his own money, worked at Bread Connection and got cozy, taking his sweet time forgetting about his grandmother's dilemma over his not finishing any course in college. So over and over again, repeatedly and constantly, my mother would say in dismay how much money she spent that he wasted for having enrolled two years in college and then just dropping out. It would be okay if my nephew is the one who suffers hearing the story over and over again. I've tried every possible reasons in trying to soothe my mother's bitchiness over the subject matter. Finally, I decided to tap into my nephew's shoulder and give him a little push, some sort of encouragement ... a little push to get him going. He always had it in him, music. But being the last of three children, he seems just a tad bit distant from everybodyelse so we, are left into wonderment as to what's going on with him ... his mind ... his life ...

I remember him answering that particular question a decade ago. He wanted to be an architect. And sometime when he was still in highschool, he answered the same question but at the time, he wanted to be a teacher ... something like a history teacher of some sort. I never got to ask him the same question when he finished highschool and he never seemed to be around when I was in town. The last time I really bonded with him was when he just tagged along with me at dog shows ... I got him a dog that apparently he never really ended up caring for because Benjie took care of Cohjie more. So, I suggested in the most subtle way ... enrolled him at Tom Lee's for guitar lessons. I showed him some stupid music softwares and told him the things he could do that I myself am interested in doing. I mentioned that right after college I went down in L.A. and checked out some of the specialized schools that offerend courses on becoming a sound technician of some sort. I am happy that he checked out schools of that nature. He said he needed to write up a 500-word essay as why he wanted to become an Audio Engineer. Anything with engineer to me means math and it gives me this visual splash of algebraic formulas!!! That's why, after I have inquired in the L.A. School of Sound Reinforcements, I never submitted the essay they asked of me. But the thought of being a Sound Engineer is really cool.

I guess, it is true that as parents, people try to enforce to their children things they wanted to do but couldn't. That kids are actually their extentions. So, I suppose, I might really be some sort of a disappointment to my mother for not really turning out the way she envisioned me to be. It's not like if you bear your own kids because when you do, the situation does not entirely give you a choice. But when you choose to have a kid like say, adopt one, a choice more or less is made. So, all you can ponder about is that nagging feeling of "where have I gone wrong with the choice I made?"

I'm turning 44 this year and I am still asking myself what I want to be when I grow up. I've tried a lot of things and not only that, I've even succeeded in most of the things that I thought I wanted to be only to find out that they were things I really didn't care much for. I just thought they were what I wanted. There are still a lot more other things I want to be. It would be cool to have a Phd added to my name. I still want to be a Veterinarian. I do want to be a Professional Show Handler, a Dog Trainer, a Canine Behaviourist. Hey, I said Professional ... which means I want to get paid for it or make some sort of living and earning my keep from it. Like I want to be a Journalist, a Writer or a Photographer on a professional level like my works getting published and not by me. I still want to be a renowned Director or Producer. Yes, I've had some experience in producing shows and concerts, record albums and stuff like that but what I want is to make big money out of it and not the nickel and dime deals.

The eldest of the three nephews when asked the same question replied ... "I wanna do whatever Ninang does." Of course, to him, what I did was totally just a concept or should I say, an impression I gave. He didn't exactly know what I was doing. He was just around me and was totally fascinated with all the gadgets I was toying with. He watched me mixing turntables and browsed through my vast collection of audio tapes. He saw me doing graphics on the computer at the time when multi-media was still at its roots. He say me pressing buttons on VCR's editing and putting together presentations. It was something he envisioned himself doing, something to do with the arts ... an expression of himself. I am happy for him. I like what he's doing now ... Hmmm, now if i can only have his job. Heehee.

The middle one at first wanted to be a veterinarian then convinced himself for awhile that he would like to spend the rest of his life looking at mouths, gums and teeth smelling different breath aromas. But of course, I suppose when he realized that becoming a dentist involves being in front of someone's mouth, he was then left undecided as to what he really wanted to do. He finished his four year course but somehow, Lola is not too impressed and wants him to go back for another 4 to 6 years more to become a Doctor of Medicine which means BIG MONEY. Now if he ever goes back to school, he could might as well go back just for a year to please Lola and end up as a Professor. He could then also further his studies and become a Phd of some sort and end up as hmmm ... Scientist?

But it does seem time is running out when growing up means becoming a grown-up.

To my beloved nephews, enjoy your life ... enjoy it while you can, every second and every minute of it!

My babies need to get laid.

Oh ... maybe someday, my blogs will get noticed and a publisher will come along and these streaming thoughts compounded would one day be a bestseller ...

Then I get to tour and travel, signing autographs and getting featured on TV talk shows.

And maybe, my babies will get laid finally. Heehee.

Bitches In My Life

I blogged yesterday but somehow it got lost somewhere ... something to do with something timing-out of some sort and yes, I was trying to blog while my mother was trying to make me do things for her and so with my girlfriend, both at the same time. Ahhhh, the bitches in my life! That of course includes all the alpha bitches in our kennel. Meanwhile, here I am the alpha dog who often gets pawed, walked on all over. It is true to some extent that the dogs at Cob are on the retarded side, wimps! That's what Rem calls 'em.

Rem has this thing that she enjoys doing ... she would talk to me a second later when my mother has started to like talk to me so they would end up talking at the same time. I know she does it on purpose, like a game. She's trying to see how well I would handle and as to what extent my patience will hold. She doesn't mean it in a mean way, just does it. It's just play and yes, it's intentional. So, I would just like smile everytime I would catch on at to what she's doing.

But it is so irritating to a certain extent.

Okay now let us move on to more irritating things! HAH!

I was exchanging IM's with my nephew about blogs. I started this blogsite initially to clear my clogged brain ... ease the congestion. But somehow, since I know people including family read my blogs, it has become restricted in the sense. It is now bounded by limitations almost like close to censorship. Behind, one needs to be careful and not so candid with fear that whatever's been written may be taken in a not-so-nice way, might offend somebody or whatever ... that kind of thing. This, I discussed with my nephew and we both agreed on taking on KQ's suggestion of having a secret blogsite.

I do have a secret blogsite. Now, if I can only remember what the password and username ... It is so "secret" that I, myself kinda kept it a secret. LOL!

So what irrates me?

I don't suppose I would do very well being reincarnated as a dog. You see, when training a dog whatever the method may be, it involves repetition and constant to a certain extent. That irritates the hell out of me. Repetition. So when something is repeated over and over again ... that just gets to me. It bores me to death that I just like want to banish in thin air when my mother just babbles over and over again the same damn things. Not just my mother, it's when anybody just keeps repeating things over and over again. The same goes for waitresses or waiters repeating orders. Well, yeah I know that it's part of the training and that I myself, point that out to crews I have trained how essential it is to repeat the order to make sure that you got the order right so that customers are also given a chance to change their minds or make sure ... But it really makes me feel like I'm dumb that it needs to be repeated over and over again. That's probably how some of my dogs feel during training sessions.

Do people with higher intelligence get bored faster?

Oh man, my mind's so clogged I feel the need to blog.

Money. Just how important money is? It seems too important nowadays that I hear people around me grumble about the lack of it. Those who have money in abundance still just jump on the bandwagon so as not to be left out by everybody and do try to complain in their own way.

I would much rather stay at home. Watch TV, turn my computer on and off ... drink coffee, eat noodles ... play with the dogs ... DIVE ... yeah ... dive!!! Don't much like being with people nowadays cuz all I hear are small talks about how prices have gone up, how hard life is, how so and so is, is doing, did this or did that ... I don't enjoy listening in on shallow conversations that involve bashing or bitching. I'd much rather be doing silly things like looking at myself in the mirror or trying to fit all my credit cards in one wallet. Silly things like doing nothing, staring at the wall and watching the rain drops and water forming puddles ... silly, silly things like rolling back and forth on the bed ... smelling mom's cooking, sniffing my girlfriend's hair ...

So, is money important. Well, yeah ... it is, I suppose cuz if I did not have money, I would not have the leisure to do silly things. But then again, without it ... I'd still be doing silly things.

Thank God for my silliness!

Smoking Is Bad For Your Health ... and mine, I know.

Yes, I want to quit smoking... which is quite a big step because now, I do feel I want to. The want is there and I can like feel that it's possible whereas before, the thought of it was unthinkable. Everytime I am about to ride the plane, I dread the fact that I would be without fumes in my lungs for hours on end. It drives me insane to think about how many hours I would endure without nicotine.

I remember those times when I would feel the nic fits. I would be very irritated and just snap. Not smoking is not cool or at least it makes me lose my cool. My head would swell. And when I get off the plane I would run to the nearest smoking area and woof down three cigarettes in a row. And when you do this, one gets dizzy. But oh... it feels soooo, soooo very goooood. And the cycle goes, you jump on the connecting flight but before you do so, you try to smoke your lungs away again. Picture this, dead winter and you are stuck in the St. Paul, Minneapolis Airport where it is not smoker-friendly at all. Smokers stay outside dead winter. It's a sorry state to look at. It is indeed some form of addiction.

Oh... the Seoul Airport smoker's lounge is even worse. They stick you in a small room, the size of an average bedroom and cramped in there is like around 20 to 30 people smoking away. And what's worse is when you get out and you just stink so bad.

More and more, the world is getting smaller for smokers. More and more, smokers are becoming outcasts of society. Prices of cigarettes are really sky-high now, it's unbelievable. And the taxes!!! I wonder how the cigarette manufacturers are coping up. These businesses have always been big sponsors of the better events: jazz festivals and concerts, races, sports. This smoking bans have affected the night scene too. It's quite funny actually that we went bar-hopping the last time we were in town. There weren't much people inside the club. There were a lot outside just right out front of the club smoking and the streets turned into one big ashtray with the cigarette butts scattered along the sidewalks.

I realized that the more people told me that smoking was bad for my health or like how I'm smoking cancer sticks and stuff like that, the more I did not want to stop smoking. So what's making me want to stop now? Well, i don't really need people telling me how bad smoking is, not just for my own well-being but for theirs too among other things like the ozone layer perhaps or the butts in the ocean that kill marine life as well. I know all of these things already, duh. I also am aware how bad it smells. It does taste awfull and it does give one gas so smokers fart more. And aside from lung cancer, of course, there's throat cancer... there's ulcers, liver problems too. Emphyzema, smoker's cough and a whole lot of other medical findings. Personal findings... well, bad breath. The more sticks I smoke in a day, the stinkier my breath is the morning after I wake up. It does taste as much as it stinks. Rat breath... gee, Tara doesn't smoke. Where does she get her rat breath?

So do I really want to stop? Yeah but...

I'm scared.

Let me take my sweet time.

Can't go cold turkey.

I've cut down.

In time, I will...

It's a big step I'm taking now... wanting to quit.

Home, Sweet Home!

It's such a nice feeling to be home sleeping in your own bed.

For people who have never travelled, it would be hard to relate to "coming home" the way I do and I guess, also for people who have no home or never felt settled in their home... or like on the go in more ways than one. They might be at home and yet still feel not at home. They might have a house but a house is not necessarily a home. Or maybe those who are constantly on the road living in suitcases or yeah... their vehicles.

So, what makes a home?

Rem taught me that HOME IS WHERE THE HEART IS. I much agree.

New York, New York!

Now what? I remember last time I was here two years ago. Memories, memories, memories... I was utterly depressed. Tears just kept rolling down and I just couldn't help myself. Things of course are a little different now. I am not as... how should I put it? Well, am certainly not depressed and am not crying as much. Well, of course, KQ is stuck downstairs still.

Time alone.

Just like the last time.

Yeah, yeah... I remember throwing a fit.

Why on earth did I choose to be in NY this year? DOGS.... GADGETS... YEAH!

I'm Leaving On A Jet Plane

Oh no!!! ... on the jet plane, we go. I just hate flying!!! But ONLY because of the nicotine fit!

Getting Old

Just got back from the south yesterday. I tell ya, the past month has really been hectic. It's either that or I am getting old. Not that old but getting there. We spent Tuesday through Friday with senior citizens. It is rather taxing. And I realize that as one gets older, patience do run out and irritability sets in. I remember about ten years ago and was in a similar situation. From Edmonton to Vancouver, I was driving and was pulled over speeding. Cop peeped inside the car and said... "You have a lot of seniors aboard. You shouldn't really be driving fast." And I answered, "Pardon me Mr. Officer, that's exactly why I was speeding. I am in a hurry to get home." The officer of course, laughed.

My GF and I wondered as we get older, if we'd ever turn out the way my Mom and Mommy Lets are. We took one good look at each other and said... "Nah!"