I've been really busy lately. So busy that I'm starting to break out -- a sure sign of work-related stress. But instead of attempting to touch your hearts with a tale about my long battle with acne, today, I have decided to redirect you to one of many on-line "pastures" I enjoy -- where the grass is greener, the writing touches or tickles, and zit puss is non-existent.
The first stop on this tour of the www is the home page of a guy from the land where unemployment is low, cigarette boxes have pictures of dead babies and chewing gum is frowned upon. Meet Batjay.
While I am faking my comfort with the English language (you could almost hear my faux American twang, can't you?), Batjay keeps it real. His Taglish blog reads like a conversation with that fun, shoot-from-the-hip neighbor who you were forbidden to play with as your mom was afraid you would have too much fun.
We have not met yet; but in my head (ergo, I am making this up), Batjay sounds like the kind of guy who starts a Saturday night with a quiet dinner and ends it by jumping off an illegal gambling barge in the middle of South China Sea after he accidentally set fire to it while running from the dealers he duped at the black jack table. Or at the very least, the kind of guy who would lug a huge Spiderman doll on his international business trips so he could photograph it (now that, I did not make up).
This ex-disk jockey, now a conference-speaker-slash-engineer can dish out a delicious bwakananginangyan and revel us with daily narratives about how something new or funny or silly or amazing has enriched his life. Believe me, there is a lot of wisdom in the stuff he thinks about while picking his nose on the train.
He is one of the nicest guys I have never met. If only he wasn't so in love with and married to the love of his life, Jet, I would definitely set him up with my sister.