Your dominant hues are red and blue. You're confident and like showing people new ideas. You play well with others and can be very influential if you want to be.
Your saturation level is lower than average - You don't stress out over things and don't understand people who do. Finishing projects may sometimes be a challenge, but you schedule time as you see fit and the important things all happen in the end, even if not everyone sees your grand master plan.
Your outlook on life is bright. You see good things in situations where others may not be able to, and it frustrates you to see them get down on everything.
Today: listening to Shaggy and Marvin Gaye; Color It Red
Missing: old friends
Dex El Phone Home (1 of 3)
There was a time when the only phone I wanted was big and studly, a real man's celphone. It would have been heavy, blocky, simple and utterly functional to spite the Nokia-toting freaks and showoffs out there. Yes, laugh all you want at my oversized black or olive-drab, military issue, highly radioactive phone. I can still bean you with it, sterilize you when I make a call, or bludgeon you to death with its manly antenna, har har har!
Trouble was, those phones were being phased out faster than a Poison groupie can drop her trousers for Nikki Sixx (Does anyone reading even remember Nikki Sixx?). Nokia had done what the other European and North American cellular geniuses forgot-- break into the Asian market with phones that were actually designed for human hands. And with the coming of the almighty GSM technology, I had to adapt, lest I find myself totally out of touch with the world at large.
Then I lost my Motorolla. Stylish, manly and cumbersome? Gone. And much to my great pain, I joined the millions of my countrymen who measured the status of their lives by the numbers on their Nokia phones. The really hideous irony was I grew to like my Nokia. The interface was intuitive (today's new in-word), it bothered to corelate whoever was SMSing me with his phone number, and it was so easy to send an SMS message that made sense to dyologs and people who respected me enough to sms me in complete, comprehensible sentences. The reasons why I professed to detest Nokia-- highly identified with jologs, fragile, poor signal reception, girly-- were (almost) forgotten as I was seduced by a color screen, polyphonics and MMS technology. I had become like my countrymen, whose celphone choices were limited to Nokia and... nothing follows.
Then I took a bold step, trading in my 3530 --nice number to measure my life by (a Nokia 7650 or a 6600 with a Plan means I've "arrived")-- for Kervin's moderately priced Sony Ericsson. It's sleek, chic and metro� (my new celphone catch-phrase, as opposed to "manly"), is almost as intuitive as the old Nokia and carries more features to boot. If I can't have my real man's� celphone, those models having crossed over into the realm of pure thought, I can at least live free of one more jolog association with this one.
Ah, what bliss! Let Freedom� ring!
"real man's ____" is a registered trade mark of Evil Dex's Evil Comedy Hour, Ltd.
"sleek, chic and metro" is registered trademark of Evil Dex's Evil Comedy Hour, Ltd.
"Freedom" is a registered trademark of the Bush Administration
Dex El Phone Home (2 of 3)
My unhappy sim called, trying to speed up repairs to his home. I do not blame him, but, as calls like his often are, his request for an audience was... inconvenient. Besides rushing to meet a very dead deadline, I was busy trying to bilocate between a funeral for a friend and the airport arrival of another friend. I'm going to have to come back down to Manila soon, if not make some calls from here.
At any rate, our plumbing leak has been plugged up. All that's left is to fix the water damage to our neighbor's (my unhappy sim) wood floors and ceiling. I wish Engineer-san give me an estimate of how much it's all gonna cost already, so Honey and I can space the money we'll be spending.
Update: Apparently, Engineer-san has much better things to do than schedule repairs and make estimates. Far be it from me to waste his time.
Honey and I will have to go find her trusty construction guy, Mang Mario. He charges P500 per day, but no one can fault him for his craftmanship. As long as you can keep him busy and provide him with free lunch and coffee, you'll get your money's worth in workmanship; speed; fair estimates; and sound advice from a master carpenter, mason and plumber.
Dex El Phone Home (3 of 3)
Honey tells me, over the phone, that last month's money from my publicist client didn't land in her bank account. She's gone over her bank records with a fine toothed comb, but despite the diligent search, the P3500 he owes me has not been found. I am ...mildly miffed. At the evry least, this means that this month's P2500 will not make it to Honey's bank account either. I have to go home and clear this up with him. He's been silent of late. No calls, no encouragement, no new assignments, nada.
I am assuming he is
a) extremely busy;
b) mildly miffed at the missed deadline (can't be helped);
c) shopping around for another writer.
He pulled a Houdini on me two months ago, in the heat of election fever. Events found him in places as far as Guam. Thanks in part to his diligence, Senator Enrile will most likely warm his chair for the next six years. For reasons of Christian charity and justice, I hope the old prune actually pays him for services rendered. Soon. At the very least, that may motivate my publicist to actually pay me.
I won't take it against him, if he's busy with option c. But he should at least honor his side of the bargain and pay me. It's quite possible that he (or a flunky of his) may have deposited the money in the wrong bank account, due to somebody's clerical error. But I am almost certain I gave him the right number, since I checked. I still have it saved on my phone.