Praise be to the Almighty

If there is one line that struck me in "Get Smart," it would be "Oh, my Lord." It was said by the Chief during the butt-dragging-through-the-train-rails scene. It showed how utter reliance on the Lord is inevitable during desperate times beyond human control.

Every single day, millions of people cry out to the Lord out of desperation. But much fewer cry out to the Lord in gratitude undeniably due Him. Thanks be to God for everything. For love. For peace. For joy. For things beyond our knowledge. For things within our grasp. For dreams left unfulfilled. For ambitions turned into realities. For forgiving every time we sin. For welcoming prodigal sons and daughters.

I am a prodigal son. I've had my unfair share of weaknesses, failures, and unworthinesses. But like the most famous prodigal son, when I come back, my Father will shower me with blessings far more gratifying than any of the stray-aways while lost. He will rejoice to see me again. He will hold a banquet especially for my coming back. He will celebrate my arrival.

But I am where I am, and where I am right now is not where I should be. My Father awaits for me in worry.

Lord, help me see the bigger picture.

Until I become McArthur, I will be truly downcast.

I shall return.

Because the heavens are angry and I'm stuck in my cube

Mushi (nobody calls her Gia at all. Perhaps when she's a little older?), my little niece, is currently in Baguio. The last time I saw her (or at least the last time I remember I saw her) she was princessy. But now, she has turned into a monster!! RARRR!! She's a little leaner and taller, and the brat that she is, spits on fishes she sees on aquariums and zen gardens. But still, she wears those princessy outfits, so think about a runaway princess. Or a rebel princess. Or whatever. Anyway, imagine being a little girl, not even a year old, talking gibberish, and wearing clothes fit for a princess. I mean, I'd rather she wear Sesame Street, Disney, or even Teletubbies than she wear a Keira Knightley or an Angelina Jolie on Red Carpets or Awards nights. I really think they're spoiling her. Oh well, at least she's still lovable and cute.

So if she's a princess, does that make me a prince? Haha.

Look how misleading my blog can get

I clicked on my tracker to get a little feel of knowing something that others would not (although sharing it right now defeats the point), like the top secrets of Central Intelligence Agency agents or like surveillance cams on top of cashiers or like forensic scientists doing DNA tests plus fingerprinting, which by the way I have done just last summer, or just like having the fulfilling feeling of knowing something that others do not.

So as you can see (this time you may feel as if you're part of the highly kept-secret investigation), thousands of people google the weirdest searches ever, and almost ninety-nine percent of them gets fooled and clicks my blog. I guess only 1 out of the twenty found Google's popping out of my blog address useful.
And in statistics, this data set of sample size twenty could have been more precise and accurate and useful and reliable if the tracker had used stratified random sampling or clustered sampling or multistage sampling or whatever sampling such that whatever is not simple random.

I feel the need to explain the following keywords: archi stuff, Taco Bell architecture, "ask you a favor"/"One favor though," "Tim Andrew Torres Alabang," "Pangalan canal," "bansa ko mahal ko poem," "agimath," "swirly bitz," and "joji mendoza."

First off, swirly bitz. I did a senseless poem on "swirly bitz" which I gave to Muy mi amiga (ok, I should stop trying Spanish right now because I have no background whatsoever). It's also found somewhere within this blog, but if you haven't read it before, I suggest you don't try finding it because it has out-"Jabberwocky"-ed "Jabberwocky."

"Tim Andrew Torres Alabang" What the heck, Heck Tate? I've heard of Andrew Torreses in other countries but in Alabang? Never. So Tim is my friend. Andrew Torres is my best friend. And Alabang is where my brother lives when he stays in the Metro. See the connection? Haha.

"ask you a favor"/"one favor though" is one of my poems found in this blog. It is addressed to only one person when my emo-ness was optimally consuming me in my dreams, versus another poem, "to someones," which is directed to a lot of people. "to someones" is a million times better than "Can I ask you one favor though?"

So the archi stuff is a duhuh. The header says it all. Should I start changing it now? I only used archi stuff simply because when I started this blog I found inspiration in a wristwatch my dad gave me, on which was engraved the word "arkitekt." Plus the fact that the Architect's works are an amazement we should all say kudos to. I wonder if the Architect made blueprints of the stars, planets, bacteriophages and amino acid sequences, or if He did it without them.

Taco Bell Architecture is TBA. It is something we should all be wide-eyed at. Yehes, Taco Bell Architecture. The architecture of Taco Bell, of all the other fastfood chains. I really can't stop myself from laughing, why would someone want to search the architecture of Taco Bell? Is it that good? Because if it is, I'd probably blame my ignorance on the wonderful food they've got there.

JOJI MENDOZA is the celeb here. She's been searched thrice in a span of 11 days, probably by different people with different IP addresses. And I don't know why someone searching for Joji Mendoza is directed to my blog when her name isn't flashed a million times. Oh yeah, I remember. I made some poem entitled "isang tula para kay joji mendoza" in response to her "tula para kay ben lopez" (don't really remember the titles, haha). Moreover, she was a groupmate of mine in our Math proj during senior year, and our boardgame was entitled "Agimath" Yipee.

Two key phrases I cannot explain: "bansa ko mahal ko poem" and "pangalan canal"

What the Heck Tate is a pangalan canal? Hahaha.

And to close this post, I can say "architect guy drier" is the weirdest search ever. Pangalan canal comes in second because it still is somehow comprehensible, as opposed to an "architect guy drier," which I'm sure has a lame reason behind it. Maybe, the architect, a male, wants to be dry after hours of painstakingly sweaty work. Or maybe, there is a guy drier branded "architect," in which guys are dumped in like a dishwasher-drier.

One thing's for sure here though. My blog needs a makeover. Not the gay ones you see on TV but an organized and simpler and less misleading makeover (that I will never be able to do as Chemistry does not and will not permit me to do so).

So little time, so much to do

I'd like to spend my days with you
And if that day is not enough

Ok, enough. That song kind of stuck for a while years ago.
It' s funny how I'm not sleepy at this time of day (4:11 AM) at this time of life. I really should start sticking post-its on my laptop screen that scream: IT'S OVER. SUMMER'S OVER!!! So why the heck are you still bumming around like there's no tomorrow (or there is tomorrow)?

Summer for me was fun. I played a lot of games, watched a couple of films, listened to a dozen CDs. I never really went outdoors, so I was fulfilling my niche as the very attentive listener that I am to the COUCH!

Couch says "Hey Potato."
Ben says "Hey Couch."
Couch winks.
Ben says "We're meant to be."

Then Couch and I were together the entire summer left. I told her to listen to those bedtime stories I had wanted to finish, but we both got tired of Plato that we never got to Brunelleschi. I never even flicked that Musicophilia cover.

I told Couch I'm gonna make her cookies, so I did. With the help of Mrs. Fields (hahaha). I was mashed enough to not give her the avocados that Chef made for me. Mmm, the avocados are mine!

Well anyway we just watched and played. Watched Kyuu-kun deduce those out-of-this-world yet realistic mysteries. Played Cluedo a dozen gazillion battalion times!

And now I am turning into the worst student you could ever imagine. I never even bothered to open any textbook this summer (i.e., the gap between summer classes and 1st sem classes). But anyhow, my sleep deficiency shall take its toll when I grab the cookies downstairs and I start wobbling like the wirings of my iPod. I am in no position to make these gibberish glitterish! Hahaha, I need to take a break.

So now Couch is whispering, "Now that you're enrolled you're telling me that you need a break."
And then I say, "Shut up."

Then Couch says, "Oh my gawsh, I can't believe you're dumping me."
Then I say, "It's over, so kiss my ass goodbye."

Forgive me Couch, but I really have to end this. We are OVER.