Syudi Roll-e

I'm becoming so addicted to my work that some of my officemates have given my name a new definition. Roll-e, in their dictionary, means "someone who works without eating." So when break comes and someone has not yet logged off from his workstation, the others would tell him, "Syudi (Don't be), Roll-e." (I've been assuming syudi is a Cebuano word, but as I am writing this, I realize it may be gay lingo.)

They invented the term, though, out of misconception. I eat, of course. It's just that in my first day of live work, I told my fellow newbies to go ahead for lunch. I decided later not to follow them outside the building and ate instead at the office pantry. When they came back inside, I was already back in my cubicle, hunched in front the PC. And when the afternoon break came, I didn't go out at all. I told them what really happened a day or two later, but the Roll-e definition had caught on.

With the way I've been holed up in my cubicle, however, I might as well not be eating. My office hours is from nine in the morning down to six in the afternoon, but I stay until nine or ten in the evening. Some older officemates have been warning me about being burned out, but I'm not really trying to kill myself or anything. I'm just indulging myself while I'm still fascinated with my job.

But if you think I'm being too workaholic, wait till you meet my officemate M. She does early OT, from eight to nine a.m., and she stays late in the evening. I always leave the office ahead of her. Once last week, she even stayed until one in the morning.

What we do is more because of passion for our work than for more OT pay. We only get paid for OT until nine in the evening, and last week, my plotted schedule was only up to eight p.m. The extra hours is charity work. I don't mind not being paid for those hours. I enjoy my work and I learn a lot. It's both challenging and fulfilling. I'm a fish in water. I'm a carabao in a muddy pond. I get nourished more by my work than by food.

Wickedly funny

These blogs have been distracting me lately:

Good Times Manila
Do you know that Mel Tiangco can make her vagina do the news and Jessica Soho has been mistaken for a humpback whale while scuba diving? Check out the latest "news" from this site.


Tunay na Lalake
What do Undertaker, tarsiers, and Annabelle Rama have in common? They're "lalake" in the truest sense of the word. How about Jinggoy Estrada, Chito Miranda, and Arnold Schwarzenegger? They're not "lalake" enough. For enlightening explanations, visit this blog.

The Professional Heckler
Manny Villar: Ito ang C5 road. Ang hindi alam ng marami, ang aking lola, si Apo Matea ay pumasok na construction worker habang itinatayo ang C5. For more quotable quotes, come here.

My atheism

Last week, when I filled out my personal data sheet for my company's records, I wrote down a simple word for the "Religion" entry: "None."

From hereon, I'm going to do the same in all my public or legal documents. I'm going to be more open with my atheism.

Yes, I don't believe in G--. I don't believe in heaven or hell. I don't believe that men have a soul. I believe that when we die, we're gone forever.

No, I'm not into occult. I don't worship the devil--I don't believe such a thing or entity or whatever exists. I don't believe in ghosts and zombies and paranormal stuff.

Yes, I believe in science and reason and logic. Anything that cannot be supported by that is a sham for me.

No, I don't hate religion. It doesn't work for me, but I respect other people if they get their strength from it.

I have good friends who are staunch Christians. And they will remain my friends so long as they don't force me to accept their faith and they don't tell me that I'll go to hell if I don't.

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Image from Wikipedia: The Greek word αθεοι (atheoi), as it appears in the Epistle to the Ephesians (2:12) on an early 3rd-century papyrus. It is usually translated into English as "[those who are] without God".

What you say

What you say about me will affect not how I see myself but how I see you.

This cross smells fishy

Nearly a month ago, in my second or third day here in Cebu, a friend brought me to the kiosk housing the famous Magellan's Cross. The cross looks like cuts of ordinary plywood pieced together. The inside part seems hollow. Then I read these words engraved in the pink stone on the base of the "relic":

This Cross of Tindalo Wood

Encases the Original Cross Planted

By Ferdinand Magellan On This Very Site

April 21, 1521

Right away, I sensed something wrong. The original cross was made of wood, but obviously, no effort had been made to cure it or keep it in a special environment. So how was it able to survive five centuries?

I didn't dwell much on the thought, though, because I was more surprised by the disorganized arrangement of the Basilica Minore del Santo Niño and its surrounding buildings. One bad architecture sits cramped beside another. The church has been under a long succession of curates, and it seemed to me that each one of them decided to commission an additonal structure according to his (tasteless) wishes.

The stinky information about the cross came into my mind again yesterday, when I came across this article from the Philippine Daily Inquirer. My, was my suspicion right!

The authority in charge of the place is deceiving the public. The fact that it concerns a religious object makes the act all the more shameful. And the sad thing is that there is no need for it. For a true pilgrim, the spot should be holy enough even without the very cross Magellan erected.

Midnight all throughout

Twilight

Stephenie Meyer

Borrowed from someone

The premise is interesting enough: vegetarian (sort of) vampire boy falls deadly in love with sweet-smelling warm-blooded girl. The fascinating element, however, ends there. The book has its charms, but it simply pales in comparison to Harry Potter when it comes to wit and to Interview with the Vampire when it comes to depth. As to the kilig factor, well, a bookworm like me is not qualified to judge. But I guess Helen Meriz, the dead Filipino romance writer, could do it better than Stephenie Meyer.

The novel that should never end

The Pillars of the Earth
Ken Follett
National Bookstore-Ayala Mall
P335

The joy of reading this book is in being with the characters in every twist and turn of their tangled fates. Every single page is enthralling. Every twenty pages or so has a climax. Follett describes action in a clear and taut language that you feel caught in the middle of it and whatever peril there is on the character's life is also a peril on yours.

There is really no need for this story to have a major finale. So it is sad that Follett packs the final part with resolutions. The conventional manner of ending a novel doesn't work so well with Pillars because its plot is not built up like a conventional novel's. It is more like a soap opera composed of breathtaking, semi-independent episodes.

Reading a conventional novel is like treading a gigantic inclined plane; you rise higher and higher until you reach the end of the plane--the climax. But that's not the end of the journey yet. In the trip to the last page, you take a steady slide on a steep slope. Reading Pillars, meanwhile, is like having a trip over a long straight queue of hills. (It's 900-plus pages.) The construction of the cathedral, where the story revolves,should naturally come to an end; but the struggles of the characters should not.

Selfish love justified

Drowning Ruth
Christina Schwartz
Bought for P49 at Book Sale-SM

This book is a heart-tugging justification of selfish love. It contradicts my personal views on family and relationships, but Christina Schwartz weaves the story deftly that it only seems fitting for the novel to end the way it does.

Reading this made me appreciate more the beauty of nonlinear narration, which Donna Tartt employs more effectively in The Secret History.