a short intro

On my first day at work, the new boss asked me to write something up about myself. Sitting to my left, his eyes never leaving the flickering monitor, he said, "Be creative. Use pictures if you like. Just say what you want. Who is Dean?" Another developer, 2 seats to my right joined in, "Ayos lang yan, pinagawa rin niya yan sa akin (It's no big deal, he made me do it, too)." So I did, verbosely:

I guess the best way to start job introductions would be to say a little something about why I ended up here in the first place. So, I was exposed to computing at an early age. To put things in the proper perspective, this was a time when internet connections involved noisy modem beeps, Yahoo and Geocities ruled the scene, and floppies were a respectable means for data migration. I enjoyed it and so actively joined those random Computer clubs at school that really don't offer much education besides launching Carmen Sandiego and, if you're lucky, disassemble a pc.

My sister took up an IT course in college and I--getting my hands dirty in HTML, PC setup, and Diablo 2-- followed suit, taking up Computer Science in UP Manila. And I had a great time of it, working on little MP's that showed me how much is possible with the right algorithm. By then, I've also discovered how much I love to write, probably because I love to read as well. I think the programming knack is related to writing, since both attempt to communicate intangible concepts through words, though to entirely different audiences.

So there. I spend most of my time reading(current book is H.G. Wells' "Food of the Gods") and keeping tabs on multiple rss feeds clueing me in on emerging technologies. Currently, I think Android is a great bet since it's a lot more liberal in terms of what you can do with a mobile device. I feel that when I get better at it, I'll be able to create amazing things that are a lot more practical and wide-reaching. Instead of building applications that run in some random server in some dark corner of the world, I'll be building something that can improve, or even radically transform, the way people live.

And all this from finding the right words to tell the PC. That's why I'm a Software Engineer.

I thought it was a little too intense for introductions, a little too dramatic for your first hello. But I knew this was how I honestly felt. Just be honest; I remember how simple life could have been if I stayed true to myself in younger days. I'm going to follow my own advice this time.

I received a copy of my write-up later that day. He had sent it to the company-wide mailing list, with a brief messaging welcoming me to the fold. I feigned embarrassment. But the truth of the matter is, I was filled with pride. I hope everyone's first impression of the new kid on the block is: "The new guy's passionate, and literate, too."

trespassing

I envy some of my friends who wear camaraderie like a scarf: warmly, with a suggested fondness, and most of all, an unintended overlap of proximities. They fit the same profile: always light-hearted, in both they are unburdened, and in the attraction of other hearts lured by the light of their own. I've noticed they also style themselves in ragged shades of their own sudden vulnerabilities. And I think it is this unashamed truth of their own weaknesses, this tolerance for their all-too-real humanity, that reinforces the perceivable solace of their company, and the ease of their understanding, and ultimately, forgiveness.

Instead, I wear my friendship like a brooch: vagrant and adventurous, but always sparkling in novelty. I have no qualms trying something new or meeting someone new. There is adventure there and life should be filled with those. Except, when the occasion demands other requirements, when circumstances arrange themselves favorably towards our separation, friend and mine, I confess I grieve less than others. Worn after a fashion, seasonal, and I hold no grudges. But each one is special to me, kept in the dark, comfy, suede boxes. Hidden, but never forgotten. And at the turn of fate, sparkling in the light once more.

This is business embodied in personal relations, and I thought it was of the proper conduct. People, in their individuality, are commodities that I have no right to hoard. They have their own lives, own passions to burn out, to consume, and I should simply count myself lucky whenever their lives overlap mine. And in those temporary segments, when our lifelines converge, cross and intertwine for a time, I offer myself in whole and hope that when they propel themselves onward, in tangent, their momentum was partly mine.

Friendship, in a way, is shared movement. It's like a journey through the perambulating landscape of someone else's continuing story. I find it such an easy task, this befriending, because every meeting for me is like finding a new land to discover, to stumble around in, to learn from. But for true friendship to run its course, it would be better if I became less of the tourist passing through the rolling vistas of my friends' lives, and be more of the interim settler that trespasses, and lives there for a while, experiences the warmth and the seasons, then leaves a part of himself, like a seed of a tree, to add to the perpetually shifting horizon. To leave a lasting memento behind to be remembered by, something lovingly kept, aside from worn scarves and aged brooches.

an Exposition on Exasperation

A friend of mine has started talking to me again. He probably looked for me simply because the usual ears to his stories weren't around that day. Plus, I was leaving the company soon, so these remaining friendships should be rekindled somehow if they were to last the time and distance.

For a background, he's a really nice guy, a strange mix of panache and frankness that allows him to be forthcoming always and offending, never. A genuine altruist. Not simply because he is the friend of everyone, but because he subscribes to that word's truest(dictionary) meaning: a person unselfishly concerned for or devoted to the welfare of others. He never says no to any requests and he goes out of his way to cheer you up. The world would be better if there more guys like him, or at least there would be more smiles in the world.

The obvious drawback would be that there will always be those who take advantage of this, and that's how his sob story went. The details are irrelevant--and private, too--but what struck me was how matter-of-fact his anger was. He vented his frustration vocally and in a passive-aggressive manner of the worst kind. Though the guy deserved it, I couldn't help but cringe as he narrated every snide remark and banter.

I've encountered emotions like this before, and the pacifist--wuss?--in me would, time and time again, come up with some superfluous counter-argument: maybe he was naive or socially inept? maybe the guy had family issues? maybe he had diarrhea? And facing those stunned, hurt eyes after each admonishment put my constant positivity in its place: a quiet and accommodating place.

But the rankling confused me. Though I've seen people mad so many times, I still have yet to understand why. Of course, they tell me the reasons behind their acrimony, but what confounds me is: Why do they bother?

Nursing a hot temper is a purely destructive and inward effort--lonely, too. Still, I understand that emotions can't be controlled and, in those times, I wholly agree to heartfelt outrage. I just thought that, with age, people would be calmer about these things. I mean, aren't our grandparents such wonderful examples of calmness and genteel repose? What's so different from the vantage point of 60 years ahead of us?

I submit my humble theory: In life, there are only two things that people should exert effort for, and that is the pursuit of each of their individual happiness-es, and cleaning up the mess afterwards. Imagine what could happen if you channel all your passion, all your energy, and funnel it into your heart's desire. Where would you be now? How little does all else look when compared to that vision of how happy you could be?

Maybe that's what lola and lolo had in their heads. When death is imminent and time is a dwindling commodity, they let go of all else that could bring them down too. Free themselves from those baggages--rude jeeps, insolent kids, crazy governance--and just hold on fervently to those things that are so much more meaningful: grandkids, pancakes, and another morning.

I told my friend to just chill. He asked me if he overdid it, and I said he didn't, but he shouldn't try a stunt like that again. Cheer-up instead! Smiling is such a powerful--and mostly unexpected--act in any altercation. And most of the time, the one with the grin is the one that comes out ahead.