...brought about by the weather...

This weather sucks. It's too bad that it's too good to waste being alone.

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Hopefully all the rain runs out by next week, when we'll be flying to Singapore. It's going to be the first time something official would be written on my new and first passport.

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I'm still torn between a netbook and a PDA phone. I'm certainly going to buy a wifi router in Singapore, so I'm left with thinking, do I want something I can blog with anywhere, anytime, or something where I can be online even in my room? While the latter is really interesting, my fetish for a PDA phone is comparable only to my love for the game of basketball.

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Speaking of basketball, BTV has been the only channel my TV has been on since I got BTV back.

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I don't smoke. I'm all about the metaphor of it when I say I still want to smoke. But I know I got to stop and and try to breathe fresh air. I gotta leave smoking alone. But it's too damn hard.

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Read a book, Nick & Norah's Infinite Playlist. Same authors made the book Ely (still betting pronounced "i-lay" and not "eli") and Naomi's No Kiss List. It wakes up the voyeur in me, in that it's written in such a way that you are reading the person's thoughts. Good e-books, c/o Issa.

Still, "Infinite Playlist" had moments when it seemed like you're reading Xerex from a tabloid. And with an imagination as colorful as mine, it seemed like I was watching a porn flick. But it wasn't meant to be seen that way.

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Kiko, Tring, Steph, and I went on a "spur of the moment" session at Sidebar Cafe in El Pueblo. Jon and I always thought it was closed, but apparently, the bar is on the second floor, not on the first, which we always pass by. It was a fun, random session. Now, if only we had someone whose birthday is July, so we can meet up every Monday of his/her birthday month for free pizza.

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Still thinking about smoking.

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Work sucks. For the past several days since last Wednesday, I haven't had much, or anything to do. I go to the office, sit down, and stare at my monitor, go to Facebook, Multiply, NBA.com, or read ebooks. I "accidentally" fall asleep at times. This is supposed to be awesome, but I feel like my brain cells are looking more like American couch potatoes already.

Hopefully, Araneta calls one of these days. I'll leave this freakin office finally. I'll take any job that may pay the same or higher, even though it's gonna be more stressful. My brain cells shouldn't look like they all have my beer belly.

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Lakers in 6 seems to be the general consensus of people. Those whose hearts were broken because the Cavs lost all want an Orlando upset. I didn't get everything right in my predictions for the NBA season, but I got it right most of the time. And I'm sticking with what I've been saying since Jameer Nelson went down: this is LA's year, much as I hate Kobe. Lebron's gonna get his MVP award, but Kobe's gonna get the Finals MVP trophy.

And even if I still owe Pao Agulto lunch for being a non-believer in the Magic, I still stick to Magic being too young to win it