The Hungry Hungry Writer

In one week I will turn 40. But I already had my birthday party. And it was the best 40th birthday anyone could possibly ask for.

I had thought it was just a normal Dodger game in the sun with some friends. But when my wife led me into a Stadium Club Suite where about 30+ of my friends of family greeted me with “Surprise”, I knew I was at the best Dodger game ever!

I couldn’t ask for anything more than this. I had tears in my eyes. My sister did all the planning and my wife forked out the dough. I hugged them both making sure they didn’t see the sappy tears in my eyes.

My wife, god bless her, kept it a secret up until we walked through the glass doors in the VIP section. I kept asking her for the tickets but she kept ahead of me and just kept saying, “I got them.”

It started out with VIP parking.

Then I led them to the wrong gate thinking we had field box tickets or something.

We were sent up a level and I figured it was in Lodge – which is typically a shaded area of Dodger Stadium. That was a good idea. I was not 100%. The kids weren’t 100%. We were a sick family going in and sitting in the sun was not a great idea.

Next thing I knew I was being pointed down a carpeted hallway to a door and that’s when I realized, “You’re kidding me…” IT WAS AN AIRCONDITIONED, CARPETED HALLWAY!

I opened the door and…

“Surprise!”

For my 40th birthday, my wife and sister surprised me with a suite at Dodger stadium.

And if that wasn’t enough, the guest list was a blast from the past!

First and most important was my family – My wife, Jake and Isabella. My awesome sister Liza, Colby, Kena and Kaden and Steve (who was as sick as I was but came anyway).

Then there was my cousin Des who drove down with Keaton from Sacramento that morning. My uncle Josh also was able to make it. James and Jenny and friend Nina came up from San Diego the day before.

Normally these birthday bashes would be my family, my sister’s family and the ‘normal’ birthday celebration crew: Dale, Dasie, Lori, Chip, Reba, Tom and baby Avery. All who were there but WHERE WAS CECILIA?

Added to the list were close friends: Sharon and her son Cole; my running buddy and one of my best friends ever, Steve (who has yet to agree to carry me for 13.1 miles on this coming marathon) and wife Mindy; my cousins Lana and Vivian with their significant others, Peter and Taka.

And then the blast from my past.

My old writing partner from UCLA and very good friend Renaldo!

My buddy from high school, Dave (‘Thrill’)!

My hockey buddies (and fantasy sports friends) Rich, Rob, Shawn and girlfriend, and Rob and Shawn’s dad, Angelo. And good old Mike Krass who can never win any of my fantasy leagues!

Whew… was that everybody?

What a huge party. What a celebration for my 40th birthday!

I’ve always dreamed of partying at Dodger Stadium. Never, in my wildest dreams, did I think it would be in a suite with all these friends.

Thanks for coming everyone!

Plus… the Dodgers won in the bottom of the 11th which made everything perfect. I was really sick that night but it was worth it

Special thanks to my sister who did an unbelievable job in getting everyone together for my special day. I LOVE YOU!

And special thanks to my beautiful wife who let it happen. YOU ARE THE BEST. I LOVE YOU THE MOSTEST!

Scene from “When Harry met Sally”
Sally: But why didn’t he want to marry me? What’s the matter with me?
Harry: Nothing.
Sally: I’m difficult.
Harry: You’re challenging.
Sally: I’m too structured, I’m completely closed off.
Harry: But in a good way.
Sally: No, no, no, I drove him away. AND, I’m gonna be forty.
Harry: When?
Sally: Someday.
Harry: In eight years.
Sally: But it’s there. It’s just sitting there, like some big dead end.

Yes, I’m turning 40… not in 8 years though - in a couple of weeks. It could be a dead end for some. It could be the start to something good for others. I’m the ‘others’ - I hope.

Okay, me… Take a deep breath. Sigh. Rub your eyes. Take a sip of coffee. Massage your fingers. Now - type! I’m going to 40 and I’m talking to myself in my prose. Weird, huh?

So here are I am. My morning routine just weeks before I turn 40. Wake up, groggily walk into the shower, brush my teeth, do my hair, find a tie in the dark then check my email.

Most of the time I wake up because someone is hungry, or someone needs to go to the bathroom and needs to announce it to everyone in the house, or someone wants to watch TV or play Xbox or… because I’m jolted out of bed because I’m running late.

If I can get a quick write in I get a quick write in. If I can’t, I have to wait till I have a chance sometime through the day where I blog or write a movie review or write another article for Tribune USA.

Still, I have no idea if people read what I write. Every once in a while someone will refer to something in my blog and I’ll be shocked and ask, “How did you know that?” only to be reminded I wrote it for all to see. Sometimes I get a kind email in response to a blog entry. Usually it’s a confirmation that someone felt the same way I did about a movie I watched.

Okay, so here I am, trying to find a way to put together a list of things to write for the week. I wrote a short five-pager script last week about a mythical creature or monster or witch - us Filipinos know what this is. It’s an Aswang.

By wikipedia.com definition: An Aswang (or Asuwang) is a ghoul in Filipino folklore. The myth of the aswang is popular in the Western Visayan regions such as Capiz, Iloilo and Antique. The trademark or major feature of Aswangs which distinguish them from other Filipino mythological creatures is their propensity to replace stolen cadavers with the trunk of a banana tree carved in the cadaver’s likeness. They are also said to like to eat small children. Their favorite body parts are the liver and heart. Other local names, especially in Capiz are tik-tik and wak-wak.

Scary stuff! Especially if you were a kid listening to your aunt or uncle tell you stories about one they saw or a story about one a friend of a friend saw. Usually it’s a friend of a friend from my recollection.

My story involves a newly married couple, lost in a remote area - trees, forest like. They run out of gas, there is tension - obviously someone didn’t listen about getting gas, and the next thing they know they are being stalked. And of course, we find out the woman is pregnant.

What happens next is dark and deadly and does not have a happy ending - sort of. I need ten thousand dollars to shoot this short film, which, of course, is a prelude to a full feature story revolving around an Aswang.

The heart of the story I won’t reveal. I mean, anyone who has an Aswang story can write an Aswang story. Mine, well, lets just say it takes a different perspective much like some of the things I write. There is a twist. And more ‘heart’ per se then a normal horror flick. It’s what makes it unique damn it! Yeah, unique.

But who am I to say it’s unique? Someone may have the same story… but I doubt it. Why? Maybe it’s more character driven with an edge - seriously. Like maybe… the Ring meets Saw.

Okay… enough of that. Here are more pre 40 ramblings.

I’m turning 40 in, hmmm… 18 days. I’m attempting my first marathon in 17 days. I’m attending my first 2-day master swim workshop in 11 days and playing in my first golf tournament in 4 days. Golf tournament you say? Yes, golf tournament. Nine weeks into my golf life I’m in a tournament. I don’t expect much except to at least put the ball into every hole somehow someway. But needless to say, the month before my 40th birthday, my plate is full and so is my belly.

How about that for a segue into weight gain?

I’ve gained three pounds. It doesn’t sound much but when you’re trying to run sub 25 minute 5Ks it’s a little harder to with that extra weight. I have to watch what I’m eating, drinking and I need to hit the gym more consistently like I was doing when I was… wow, can I say it? When I was 39. Okay, I know, I’m still 39 but I won’t be in 18 days!

I receive health tip text messages on my cell phone every afternoon. Yesterday it was a short and simple statement, “Before you get fit, you have to get happy.”

March and April were quite ‘downers’ for me. Writing was a struggle. Reading was a struggle. And getting fit was an absolute battle - a battle I lost. Needless to say, I haven’t been too happy lately.

In March and April I found it very tough to get up and out the door to gym or even to run outside. Most of my time spent was at my sister’s house. The remodeling of our kitchen is possibly a big part of my lack of motivation. I can’t keep complaining about work - my boss lets me work from home 2 days out of the week lately and I’ve been taking advantage of it. And spending most of my time at my sister’s house because of no kitchen means I’m there to eat. And I ate a lot.

My kids turned 4, 7 and 16 in March and April which is always depressing – watching your kids grow old. I haven’t watched a movie on DVD since February or something and I’m paying twenty bucks a month or something for Netflix. And I’m way above budget on spending due to birthdays and my newly acquired golf addiction.

So where do I go from here?

I want to improve at a accelerated rate in golf. I want to be ready for my first Marathon on June 3. And I have to start training for that Olympic distance Triathlon scheduled in September.

There isn’t any time to even take a deep breath as you can see. Balance in life is tough. But, before you get fit, both mentally and physically, you have to get happy.

I am happy after golf practice. I take my clubs to work and during lunch I putt at the local putting green or hit range balls for 40 minutes or so. It’s a perfect lunch activity. A medium bucket of balls gets me 40 minutes of practice and I find after 30-40 minutes of putting, I can’t putt anymore because it gets boring and I start forming bad habits to make it more interesting. It’s cheap too. I just eat a healthy snack to keep my energy up and I’m good to go. It’s a great way to lose weight!

After a long run I am extremely fulfilled. Long runs help me meditate. Sometimes negative thoughts fight their way into my brain, but I practice focusing on goals like: crossing the finish line at a Triathlon, running the last few miles of a Marathon, and visualizing my family rooting me on in a race.

I get inspired after I watch a great movie on DVD. I want to watch more, I want to discuss the movie with people, and, most importantly- it motivates me to write something special.

The other night my wife and I were able to get out late at night to a Film Festival where my short film was screening. It was way past my bedtime. But it was worth the fatigue because my wife looked great, the movies we saw were inspiring and I was motivated to get off my butt and start up another script.

But then I get distracted by things that seem, at the time, more important like: watching brain numbing shows on TV, or eating too much for dinner, or fantasy baseball, or just going to sleep without doing anything.

Focus and balance. Just like in The Karate Kid movie-a lesson that everyone, including me, should learn. In order to have balance in your life you must focus on what makes you happy. Be positive and get rid of all the negative thoughts out of the way.

Here’s a quote from Tiger Woods. “I go crazy when I watch guys in practice round play shots from a drop area. Why bring negativity into your thoughts? I only practice from where I expect to play.” Now that’s positive thinking. Don’t think about bad results, think about the good ones and focus on that.

I ran 10.5 miles the other day. I spent 3 hours with my son playing 18 holes of golf on Sunday. And… I’m writing another article for this week… So I guess I’m getting happy. I’m thinking positive. And that means I can get fit again!

It’s getting me sick.

EVERY SINGLE TIME I MAKE A POINT… my coworker and his big ego takes an opposite position.

If you’re a basketball fan, well, if you’re not even a basketball fan this statement will make sense.

The Mavericks beat the Golden State Nuggets last night to narrow the gap. The 7 game series is now 2 games for the Mavs and 3 games for the Nuggets. Golden State had a 3-1 lead and I made a statement, “It’s tough for a team to win 3 games in a row in the playoffs.”

And good old co-worker with the ego said, “No it’s not.”

What the fuck?

I held back my argument and just said, “So… a team can win 3 in a row just like that. No problem.”

And he says, “In the Maverick’s case the can.”

I was like, “Well, they lost three games already to the Nuggets and they lost the season series to them so you’re saying, they can just go in and sweep a team 3 games in a row with no problem.”

He was like, “Yup.”

Idiot.

I’m getting so tired of it I don’t even want to hang out with him.

And yesterday he really got on my nerves!

He was on the phone with, as he said, SEARS (and as he pronounced it: sea-airs)

I was like, “WHO?!”

He looked at me like I was stupid and said, “You don’t know who SEAAIRS is? The big appliance store? They sell tools and stuff.” Then he spelled it, “S – E – A – R – S.”

I was like, “SEARS?” (Pronounced like it should be: sîrz or seerz according to Dictionary.com)

He shook his head like I was a stupid idiot, “No, SEA-AIRS, S-E-A-R-S not S-E-E-R-S, it’s S-E-A-R-S. You don’t say ‘ear’ (e-air), “E-E-E-R”, you say E-AIR. E-A-R.”

I shook my head with a feigned smile and said, “NO it’s a silent ‘a’. As in, hear and near… Eeer!!!

(ear: ‘eer’ pronunciation from Dictionary.com).

“I don’t know what English you speak,” he continued, “But it’s wrong.”

I pretended to laugh and said, “Yeah, I guess it’s my oriental accent.” And left the room.

I ditched him at lunch and bought a Jamba Juice and putted for 45 minutes at the local driving range.

Wow, this guy, who is a fine coworker otherwise, and I would never be buds outside the office. We think way differently despite similar interests. From saying running a marathon is all mental (referring that anybody can do it without proper training like I’m trying to do), to telling me he ran a mile in 6 minutes (when the route he took was only .7 miles long according to MapQuest), to saying all you guys (Asians) look all alike, to telling me Kobe should be the MVP of the league, the guy is so blinded by his own ignorance I have to let him live in his own clouded world.

Oh, one more thing… he complains about the Government and our Presidency all the time. Thing is, he has never voted and is a sworn in American citizen. My philosophy, don’t complain if you don’t vote. Isn’t it the ignorant that say, “My vote doesn’t matter?” Tell those to the peeps in Florida.

Unbelievable.

I was sitting on a kiddy chair watching TV while my 4-year old daughter, Bella, was talking to me. Well, she was trying to have a conversation with me. Of course I was a little distracted in the conversation as I was watching the De La Hoya/Mayweather boxing series on HBO. There were four other kids in the house, besides Bella, running around, yelling, getting in trouble and causing migraines all around, that it was hard to even hear the television.

So I scooted up close, grabbed one of the kiddy chairs and sat a few feet in front of the glowing box. Bella sat on the little kiddy table next to me and was talking about something. I’m not sure what she was rambling on and on about.

My thoughts were only on the unbelievable training boxers go through. It’s the dedication to training of champion boxers that fascinate me. Boxers: the elite of the elite, the ones they announce as ‘pound for pound’ where every pound is muscle of brute strength and agility, the best of the best. They are this way because of focus and dedication.

In my head the fight between De La Hoya and Mayweather played out. Who’s going to win? Will De La Hoya go in intimidated? Will Mayweather freeze up when he sees the crowd and a confident opponent across from him? Will De La Hoya run around the ring if he thinks he’s got the scorecard?

“Angelo doesn’t like to kiss.”

My thoughts came to a brutal halt. All the thoughts of training, the fantasy fight I played in my head, the mesmerizing HBO special - gone, just like that. All because Bella announced, out of the blue, “Angelo doesn’t like to kiss.”

Excuse me? Who’s Angelo? How do you know he doesn’t like to kiss? Back up, slow down, don’t grow so fast, be my baby… wait… you’re 4! You’re still my baby!

“Who’s Angelo?” I questioned with eager curiosity.

“My boyfriend.”

I repeat: Slow down, don’t grow so fast, be my baby… “How do you know he doesn’t like to kiss?!

Did you try and kiss him?” I asked, my anticipation growing.

“Yep, he’s my boyfriend.”

NOPE. It’s fine to have a, quote un-quote, boyfriend.

“It’s okay to have a ‘boyfriend’ but NO KISSING! You can hold hands but no kissing!” I tried to be calm and sensible about the innocence of childhood.

“But he’s my boyfriend.”

Okay, no more watching TV. No more DVDs. No school, you can stay home till I grow old.

“Bella, you’re too young to kiss other boys. You’ll get in trouble at school because you’re not supposed to kiss other students remember?” I pulled that one from something I heard – that the teachers didn’t want kids to kiss each other – you know, diseases and bacteria and stuff.

“Okay. Can I kiss you?”

Is that all you need from your baby daughter to make your heart melt? Everything else doesn’t matter: the HBO show, who’s going to win or lose, work, my aches and pains, my plans on buying a $1000 set of Calloway golf clubs, and my pending marathon.

“Of course you can kiss me!” And I leaned forward for her.

“Because you’re my daddy, and I love you!”

She planted a big wet kiss on my face and I grabbed her from the table and squeezed her as I held her in my arms. Ahhh - now that’s a moment to cherish for as long as you can!

Hmmm… where was I? The HBO show was over. I missed a major part of it but, to be honest, I got a special kiss from my baby and it was worth it.

Take that, Angelo. You don’t know what you’re missing.