Crow is now (offline, offline)

A teammate of mine recently resigned from work to transfer to the "other" company. In the office, we jokingly refer to his new company as the "Happy Place", deliberately changing what the actual acronym stands for. You do the math. (I feel like it's bad form to mention the name outright.) One of the reasons he's transferring is that he wanted to be nearer his girlfriend.

Our sendoff brunch for Patrick was a bittersweet affair. I can't believe I just described something as a "bittersweet affair". I haven't written in a long while and I'm resorting to cliches. Pathetic. Anyway. It's been more than a year that we have all been working together in our project and we are known as one of the closest teams in the company. So it isn't really overboard to say that it was somewhat a big deal that one of us is leaving. But it turned out to be a lighthearted, cool affair. We laughed while recounting funny moments we shared. The screwups we did. The time we generated that fake urgent email addressed to our team leader for her congratulatory promotion surprise party.

It's tradition to send a farewell email addressed to all the employees when someone resigns. Usually, general thank yous and goodbyes to the company as a whole. In Patrick's case, however, early on his last day, he mentioned that he wanted everyone to know the real people behind each of us, his teammates.

I was the only other person left in our block when Patrick logged out for the last time. He came by my workstation and we hugged. I told him I wasn't going to mushy since we'd still see each other around. Of course, he said, and finally left.

And then his farewell email popped in my inbox. It was a long email. He had a paragraph for each one of us in the team, mentioning our trademark characteristics and quoting our patented lines ("Are you mocking me?" - Karl; "O, ha? Sabong panlaba!" - Virg). It was hilarious. He thanked us for the sendoff, for the gifts, for the card we made him with all our pictures. He said that no matter where he goes, he will always look for the feeling of being part of our team. Aaww. That was so sweet. It was so touching without being sappy. In his email, he answered the question I asked him that he was unable to answer early that morning. What his best moment was. He wrote that it was that time not long ago that he finally got to see me frazzled.

The next day, a lot of our officemates came up to our team to joke about the Patrick's farewell email. One of them asked me whether one of the things Patrick said was true. I told her laughingly that he was just probably misled.

Patrick thanked me for being a good person. And that because of me, he is inspired sometimes to be a good person himself. Just inspire and only sometimes ("hehehe").

That was sooo Patrick.

Someone's Turning Eight Today

I'm fond of kids. Not in the i-want-one-of-my-own way nor in the way the witch in Hansel and Gretel likes kids. Naah, not like that. I like kids because they're fun to look at. Except when they're throwing tantrums and making their parents transform into... well, not-so-parentlike people.

But in general, they're so amusing. There was one kid, for instance, who was so sleepy she wouldn't wake up even while her mother was rubbing her cheeks. They were about to get off the shuttle already and the mother was starting to get flustered since she was also lugging grocery bags. The daughter was so oblivious to her surroundings. The heck with everything, she's sleeping. Good for her. (Not-so-good for the mom, though.)

I was on an elevator with two brothers, probably eight and ten years old. They were with their mom, but she was too busy with her PDA. The boys were pretending that their dad was invisible and that whenever the elevator door closes and opens, they would guess whether their dad just came in or just went out. Cool kids.

There's actually a kid right now beside me in this internet cafe workstation who's poking me with a new unopened toothbrush. I've been waving at him and saying hello, but so far, the only response I get is a pair of wide eyes. Unblinking too, if I might add.

I was walking earlier today when I saw a middle-aged lady carrying a box of cake with a number eight candle taped on top of the box. I like kids so much that they amuse me even if I don't actually see them. I could just imagine the look on the kid's face when the lady comes home and sticks that candle in the middle of the cake and lights it. Priceless.

Wherever you are, happy birthday, kid. Have a great life.

The Fspecs Weekend

The security guard at the mall's entrance greeted me with the standard "good afternoon, ma'am" and gestured as usual that I was to open my bag for inspection. Sure. Wasn't bringing any explosives at the time. I found out, though, that I brought my fspecs with me. Not that it came as a surprise. I did place them in the bag myself. But at that particular moment when I saw them, it was so... unexpected. I was overwhelmed by how geeky it was to have a thick bundle of fspecs in one's bag while going inside the mall on a Saturday afternoon.

And, oh, of course, I've singlehandedly ostracized readers not from my field. Fspecs - or functional specifications - are what I'm being paid to do. Well, partly. It's not all I do, anyhow. They're blueprints, if you will, of the software systems we build. I'm not sure if I'm allowed to take them out of the office and I'm not even sure if I'll even have time to read them over the weekend. I'm sure though, that it's not... hmm, healthy. It's almost a disservice to one's self to read fspecs over the weekend - gosh, the weekend - instead of watching DVDs, catching up on sleep, getting fresh air, strolling in the park, saving endangered species, reenacting the opening scene of The Sound of Music ("... the hills are alive..."), taking a trip around the world, working for world peace...

Oh-kay.

I think I brought the freaking fspecs with me because my deadline's on thursday and I still have no idea what each button click is supposed to do. And being the obsessive-compulsive geek that I am, just the mere thought that I have the documents in my near proximity somewhat settles my nagging, stressed out mind.

Have a nice weekend, everyone. If I can't have it, I'm wishing it for you, at least.

Fifteen Years Later

I'm meeting my gradeschool bestfriend next month. It's been almost a year since I started work here in Manila but we've never had the chance to see each other yet. I guess we were too busy. But also partly because I am a little hesitant. For a whole lot of reasons.

First of all, I haven't seen her since we were in the fifth grade. Ten years old. I mean, that's a whole lot of time. Where do we start to catch up? Too many things have happened. How do you rank the most relevant ones? Did anything relevant happen, in the first place?

I am overwhelmed by the idea of being confronted with who I was and who I've become. I think that seeing someone so close to me from my past would force me to evaluate my life. A crash course on My Life 101. What happened, what changed. Did I become who I wanted to be when I was ten? I don't exactly remember what I wanted to be when I was a kid. I wasn't consistent, that's why. At one point, I wanted to be a doctor (Or I think it was just my mother who wanted me to become one). I don't remember wanting to spend six days a week in front of a computer, but that's what I ended up doing now.

I'm not worried that my life would pale in comparison to my friends. Because I like my life, despite the occassional annoyances. I've been through so many screwups in the past that I feel like I'm fairly equipped to face whatever's ahead.

I think my ten-year-old self wouldn't be too disappointed how I turned out to be.