Disgruntled, Depressed, and Downtrodden

I kinda envy call center employees right about now.

Sure they get screamed at by callers, work at ungodly hours, and being human answering machines isn't on the list of world's most glamorous or intellectually challenging jobs, but at least they have cool lounges with PS2's PC's cable TV's and comfy couches, and they get paid twice as much as me.

There we go. I have half of their salary, get unpaid for overtime, get almost unreasonable deadlines (recently because of some other lout's wishy-washiness), and there is no lounge at all. I don't even think I can take a decent crap at the local comfort room. The only thing I have is the prestige of working for one of the biggest networks in the country, but the thing is, I don't give a rat's ass about prestige. It's absolutely worthless to me.

So now, you'd probably tell me, "So why don't you switch jobs?"

To tell you the truth, I don't rightly know why. Maybe it's because I didn't get put through school by the Filipino people and graduate from the state university just so I could take calls from stupid Americans, Europeans, or whoever race has us reduced to a bunch of mechanical idiots. Well-paid, of course, but idiots nonetheless. Or then again, it's maybe just because of some mundane thing I can't seem to put my finger on; well, probably not.

But that of course, doesn't change the fact that a lot of times I wish I was paid better, had a lounge I could go "lounge" in, and that I didn't have to suffer from someone else's wishy-washiness. Sometimes I also daydream of picking up a magic lamp on the street with a genie inside who's going to grant me anything I ask without any catch.

Life - it really has a way of killing someone. Slowly.

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Photo post

Random shot of the day:

In lieu of my very erratic posting, I've decided to keep this blog (and the connecting one in Multiply as well) alive by posting a shot from my library from time to time. I might also post a short vignette inspired the photo as long as I have the inspiration and the brain power for it.

New Year, new post. LOL.

I suddenly feel compelled all of a sudden to post something in lieu of the New Year--which basically only really means a change of date--and I do realize that it's been AGES since I last put something here.

But what a year 2008 was. It was easily one of the most trying for me emotionally--which I will not expound on; the people who know me know what I'm talking about. But I am still thankful for small joys like good chatting days (and there were lots of bad ones too), Hairspray, airsoft, and eat outs with friends.

Basically I start the year feeling like one of those 9 out of 10 Filipinos they've recently put on the news--hopeful. I hope that this year will be a year of better things, of small and big successes.

Right now, I'm starting to dread Monday--and I'm sure many others feel the same--so I'm trying to maximize what's left of my RPG-playing days before I go back to all that work again.

From Slumdog to Millionaire

Slumdog Millionaire has been getting a lot of hype lately, and I, for one, think it deserves it.

Set in the slums of Mumbai, Slumdog Millionaire is, simply, a rags-to-riches story of a boy who went from the shit-diving fanboy (watch the movie and you'll understand) to the 20 million-Rupee winner of the local version of Who Wants To Be A Millionaire - and gets the girl of his dreams in the process. And to make it truly Bollywood-grade (it's a British film, BTW), there's a dance scene at the end.

While some may say that the story is something we've all seen before countless times over and over again (yes, the premise is THAT overused), that's entirely beside the point. No idea is new, they say, the key lies in the way something is presented, which makes Slumdog Millionaire stand out from all the rest. The cinematography for one, is great, and for a movie that reminded me so much of the slums of our own Payatas, of the congestion of this sprawling metropolis we call Met…

Symptoms of Cretinism

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