In the cyber world, I am known by two names. Formerly, I have been called Crackerboy. After my rebirth this year, I went with Liquid Dreamer (the reason for this site's name). A good number of people ask me, "Oh wise one, from whence dost thou name hail?" (okay, I admit to paraphrasing that a bit). Little old me is a little flattered that some people seem to care about the origins of my handles, and it is for their benefit that I write this essay. I'm proud of my nicks. They are a reflection of who I am. Plus, people really wanted to find out how I got my names (I don't really know why) that their nosy little minds formulated hack stories like, "PJ cracked the @$$e$ of so many guys that he got the nick 'Crackerboy'!" (I am not making this up!). And so, to protect the integrity of my handles, I decided to disclose the real reasons for my choice of names. For the first time in print, I present to you, The official reasons why I call myself Crackerboy and Liquid Dreamer.

Choosing handles for me is a sacred thing. It's not everyday that you get the chance to choose what label you would want to be called. In effect, you are forging a new identity seperate from your mundane self. And so I carefully considered my options before I settled on the names.

When I first began chatting, I used ultra-dumb names like Nice|Guy and Einstein (keep in mind that I am a geek). People just couldn't get it. As a friend of mine once said, "Nice guys don't get laid!". So true. And so, I decided that a change of nick was necessary to make my chatlife a little more interesting. My friend recommended that I choose a name which reminds me of who I am. It should be meaningful in it's own way, and it should be something which evokes feeling from within me. And my searching led me back to memory lane, summer of 2000...

Whenever talk about my nicks come up, I always remember Don. He wasn't my first buddy, but I really loved the guy. I knew that he loved me equally. We met through text and eventually got things off the ground. He lives in Laguna and I was in Cavite, so distance was a huge factor in our relationship.

Anyhoo, during those times I was a... er... pretty "hefty" kid. Okay, so I was chubby. A couple of years prior to this event I wasn't overweight. The toil of high school and the pressure just made me eat more. And I was scared to death that Don wouldn't like me enough if I kept on looking like that. And so I told myself that I would do something about the matter.

When Don and I met, I was embarrased and tongue-tied. I hated the way I looked and was certain that he'd go straight home to Laguna. But you know what? He looked at me and said, "Where have you been all along?" *Kilig*

He accepted me for who I was, and yet I wanted to change not just for him but for me as well. He asked me if I really wanted to and I said yes. He then encouraged me to do something about it. "Like what?" I asked. He told me that I should work-out at a gym like he does, and he'd call me up and we'd work-out simultaneously so that even though we were miles apart, we'd still be together. After a few work-outs, I felt like a new guy. I dropped a pound and was ecstatic. Don was happy for me, and said, "Now that we got you started, let's tackle on you diet." He was a clinical dietician, and he prescribed what things I should eat and how much food I should take daily.

Now before this essay starts to read like "How I lost weight: Based on a true story", lemme get to the meat and potatoes. You see, he told me of a crash diet which was still untested but showed dramatic results. Since the human body does not burn too much fat while sleeping, the trick was to eat less during dinner and eat more during breakfast (to rev up the body's metabolism) and lunch (when the body needs energy the most). And so I ate bran cereal in the morning and a normal lunch. But when dinner came around, I skipped the delicious stuff my mom cooks and contented myself with...

Crackers.

Yes, for almost a couple of months, I ate nothing but crackers during dinner. I ate them plain, I ate them with a little spread, I ate nothing but crackers. You know those single packs of Skyflakes containing three measly pieces of crackers? That was my dinner for two months. Don prescribed multi-vitamins and supplements to make sure that I didn't develop any severe lack of nutrients. Amazing I stood it for so long. Whenever I felt weary, I would give Don a call. He would tell me, "I won't stop you if you want to give up, and you know that I would love you no matter how you look." Those words just made me keep on going.

The loss of weight was dramatic. I looked like a hollow shell of my former self. I started to need wearing a belt for my pants again. My cheeks sunk and I looked like a drug addict. For the first time in a few years I could see the outlines of my ribcage. When I say business, I mean business, and this weight loss thingie was a serious matter for me.

Don dropped by the house almost every other day throughout this time. I was really touched, since he needed to come all the way from Laguna and wake up a couple of hours earlier just to be with me. It gave me the strength I needed to go through with my plans. And so I continued to shrink.

When I reached the target weight Don and I have set for me, I was beside myself. I immediately called him up and told him that I did it. He was happy for me, but there was also sadness in his voice. He asked me if he could drop by the house, and I said of course. I couldn't wait to show him the results of our hard work.

When he got there, he smiled so brightly that all the effort seemed to blow away. He rewarded me with a kiss and a hug, and told me he loved me no matter how I looked, but this was a great surprise. I was happy too, but I sensed something was wrong. After all these years, I could still remember that conversation.

PJ: Love, what's wrong?
Don: I don't know what to say...
PJ: Come on, you know you could tell me everything.
Don: Well, do you remember about that program I always wanted to be in?
PJ: Yeah. We talked about that almost a month ago. Why, what about it?
Don: You see, I got accepted...
PJ: That's great! (I stood up to hug him. He hugged me back and started to cry on my shoulder.)
PJ: Love, what's wrong? Why are you crying?
Don: Baby, the program requires me to go to Cagayan de Oro and stay there for two years.

I felt my throat tighten and my heart stop, but I forced myself to be cheerful.

PJ: Well, we could always stay in touch. I'll call you, you'll call me. You see, everything would turn out fine.
Don: It isn't that easy. I don't want to leave you here.
PJ: I don't want you to go either. But we both know how much this program means to you. I won't stand in your way. You need to do this or you'll regret it.

More crying ensued, followed by promises of love and staying in touch.

To make this part of the narrative short, Don left for Cagayan and I never heard from him again. I tried calling him but it seems he changed his number. We lasted five months, and we were so in love. But I just try to think that things were supposed to happen like this and that it was just time for us to move on. I drowned my sorrow in food and got some of my weight back, and I didn't care. But I would always cherish what Don and I shared. That was what led me to use my self-imposed nickname during those days when we were together: Crackerboy.

Now, before I short circuit this keyboard with my tears, let us just move on to my other nick, Liquid Dreamer.

If you have read my essay My Rebirth, then you'd be familiar with the hiatus I had from civilization. During those times, I suddenly developed a passion for writing poetry. With nothing better to do, I wrote and wrote poems on a hardbound book. But my most favorite poem had a line like this...

When I got back to Manila and re-logged on to Pinoy Exchange, I discovered that my old profile was gone. The Crackerboy nick was dead, and I was faced once again with the choice to sire a new name. I was thinking whether to revive my old nick, but it would make my rite of passage redundant. I was a new person, and as such I needed a new nick. Suddenly, the song "Liquid Dreams" by O-town played in the radio. I was reminded of my poem, and so just went along with synchronicity. Hence, I named myself Liquid Dreamer.

So you see, it doesn't have anything to do with cracking the backsides of guys open. My nicks have subtle meanings which are known only to me. It is refreshing to look back and see how it all started, though. And now, I share with you some chapters of my life which impacted me deeply. I do not really see greater respect for my nicks coming out of this essay, but an awareness will subconsciously make readers know that these names weren't drawn from thin air. They were earned and I could proudly call myself by these handles.

So, after all is said and done, could you handle my handles?