Saturday, August 30, 2003
Returning To My Roots
I had a wonderful day yesterday! Went back to my old nursery school, Piagetian Guided Educational Center (PG), for an alumni homecoming! I only intended to stay for an hour but I ended up staying there from 6 to pm! PG used to be in the Timog area but three years ago they relocated to another area, built a three-story building, and put up a gradeschool. It was kind of sad because it was the old PG I wanted to see, wiith the playground and the pastel, easter-egg colored classrooms. The new PG does look an awful lot like the old PG though.
My old nursery classmate, John Pelino, picked me up and we went there together. I haven't really talked to him since those nursery years and it was wonderful catching up. We used to always be together back in the day, holding hands and playing on the seesaw. Wer'e even beside each other in all the pictures. We both had a good laugh over our nusery days, and had an even bigger laugh when we realized that it had been 20 years since we were last together in PG, and there we were arriving together just like old times (like history repeating itself).
My old teacher, teacher Ludy, still remembered every single one of our names, had a hug ready for all of us, and even had a few anecdotes about each of us to share. All of our old pictures were on display and I found memories awakening inside of me, flashes of forgotten experiences that had long ago settled deep into that compartment of one's mind where everything is jumbled and unlabeled, where you're not even sure which are the real memories and which are the made up ones.
I started remembering where all the classrooms where in the old PG, the big giraffe's head in that fieldtrip to the zoo, all those little programs we put on for our parents, the time when we camped in the school garden, and the time when that giant Kool-aid mascot came to visit our school. Faces, names, and places, and art-paper letters, brightly colored plastic blocks, and all those old, kiddy songs they used to make us sing everyday. I started looking at all the kiddy activities done by the current batch of nusery students, the spangly, paper fishes, the cartolina airplanes, the paper parrots with real, dyed feathers pasted unto them, and all the pretty paper houses. One paper house really made me laugh because the kid who made it had written "I dont like maging beggar. i like to go scool in PG" Hahaha! Poor kid.
They were such sweet, warm memories and we would laugh and laugh every time we'd recall an incident, or a classmate's name. I never realized how much we all take foregranted those first, few, innocent years when the world is a new, undiscovered place, where our only problems were learning to color within the lines, where only the barest outlines of our personality had taken shape, and yet they were the purest forms of our personality.
Everybody should immerse themselves in their childhood every now and then. It reminds you of where you came from, and how far you've come, and reminds you of how beautiful and simple life once was.
Oh, A Pirate's life is a Wonderful Life
It's amazing how I manage to find time to watch movies nowadays. Last night I watched Pirates of the Caribbean and reaffirmed my fetish for tall, raven-haired, disheveled, charismatic bad boys. I am not reffering to Orlando Bloom, although he was cute in the movie's 1st few scenes. What eventually made him un-cute was that his acting really began to fall flat, and he was overshadowed by Johnny Depp's dark, idiosyncratic charm.
He's so hot. I love Johnny Depp and I love Johnny Depp-types (like Stuart Townsend). I find myself attracted to these bad boys with bad hair. I think that's why I recurringly get attracted to these long-haired musician types. I like bad boys because I'm a wannabe bad girl, and dating a bad boy makes me feel bad by association.
But anyway, back to the movie. It's a fun movie. I'm not in the mood to analyze it component by component, I watched it in a very superficial state of mind, and that state of mind has carried over into the present moment. so I'm just going to say that I quite enjoyed it even though I think undead pirates are really a cheesy idea and I really hate token female characters; I will most likely buy the DVD; I wouldn't mind seeing it in the theater again.
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Thursday, August 28, 2003
Ive Mendes
I had this gorgeous Brazillian babe on the show today, Ive Mendes who's here from the UK to tour and promote her Brazillian-bossa-nova-soul album (you might've heard her remake of Chicago's "If You Leave Me Now"). She was way taller than me, possessed a figure that oozed with that lazy, lanky sensuality that Brazillians seem to have, and had luscious, wavy, floaty hair that went more than half-way down her back. She was also one of those people who are incredibly natural at embracing and making beso-beso complete strangers, and had this darling Penelope Cruz accent ("Aym frum Braziw"). She also had one of those wonderfully sultry, low, womanly voices that sound warm and cool at the same time, and like a queen, she breezed into the studio cooing and exclaiming how wonderful everything and everyone was, giving out random compliments.
Next to her, I felt like I was back in my awkward, preadolescent years when I was too skinny, when I just didn't know what to do with my hair, when my eyes and mouth were too big for my face, and when I was absolutely flat in the chest (not that there's been any dramatic changes in the chest area since then).
Oh, to be big, booby, Brazillian.
1081- Rakrakan Para sa Kalayaan
Anyway, in commemoration of a significant event in our country's history, and to educate the youth who ignorantly symphatize with the martial law aspirations of that bozo Trillianes(according to a poll, 20% of young students in schools wish for marshall law), there's going to be an Marshall Law concert:
1081- Rakrakan Para sa Kalayaan
on the 19th of September at the Oakwood Parking Lot.
Oakwood has agreed to provide the venue, electricity, and construction of the stage for free. The concerts feature a mix of old bands from marshall law era (Asin, APO...uh..) , and newer, younger bands (right now, all I can really remember are SugarFree, Barbies Cradle, and Greyhoundz), and also guest speakers who suffered under the marshall law system, people who were tortured, denied privileges, or denied justice. So, it's for a good cause and it might just be historical. Come!
I love Dilbert!!!
I've found a new joy in life! I've discovered Dilbert.
I've been reading Dilbert late into the night, under the covers, laughing hysterically alone in my room. It's just so damn funny, and most of the time you can't even tell why. During the day, I imagine a funny line, or a funny strip from Dilbert and just burst out laughing like a mad woman! I know some people have a hard time understanding Dilbert because your sense of humor has to be configured in a weird way in order for you to get the jokes. I guess my mind is weirdly configurated because it is just so damn funny.
As a result of reading Dilbert, I've been sleeping even more in class with the exception of today wherein I vowed not to fall asleep in class. I took extra measures. I jumped out of bed as soon as the alarm rang (it usually takes me 30 mins to stand), had a cup of coffee, put on a short skirt to make myself uncomfortable (hence preventing me from settling into a nice, comfy nap) jumped up and down rapidly before getting into the car to go to school. In the car, and all the way to the classroom, I blasted the bounciest, clubbiest music from my i-pod. All throughout class, I ate Altoids so that the sugar, and the cinnamon rush would keep me awake. I made it! For the 1st time in 3 weeks, I didn't sleep in Philosophy and even managed to recited a couple of times!
current music : "Clareana"- a beautiful song by a Brazillian singer, Joyce. Clara and Ana are her daughters' names. My dad worships Joyce and has always dreamt of meeting her or catching her live. Today, Ive Mendez was accompanied by a tall, English man who heard "Clareana" blasting from my Mac, and approached me looking rather mystified. Turns out, he worked with Joyce years ago on her 1st album and was awed at hearing one of her most beautiful songs being played in such an unlikely place. As fate would have had it, I played the right song at the right time and found a direct link to Joyce much to my father's absolute delight!
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Wednesday, August 27, 2003
Sponge Magic
Lalala, wheee! Ang galing ng "Block Magic". It's this white, "magic sponge" Nino gave me that cleans my dirty computer hardware in one swipe. Amazing. It got me into a cleaning frenzy. I started sponging our PC monitor, and our scanner. I actually love cleaning sometimes, especially when the changes are immediate and dramatic.
Anyway, i was passing by Ateneo's Church of the Gesu and noticed how gray it had become (it used to be a blinding, radiant white) and I thought that if Fr. Nebres asked for a huge magic sponge from "Block Magic", and device some kind of crane to lift it and rub it against the church, we could clean that dirty, 'ol church in a jiffy.
IT LIVES!!!
My 7650 is back from the dead!!! I've been using this oldskool phone that only holds like 10 messages for about two weeks since my 7650 got busted. The number keys 3,6,9, and # would'nt work, which means I didn't have the letters d,e,f,m,n,o,w,x,and y! Do you have any idea how impossible it is to text when missing 1/3 of the alphabet?! You can't even text "yes" or "no". Not even "oo" or "hindi".
In the beginning, I decided to bear with it and deviced creative ways to get my messages across to people without those letters. "Yes" became "K". I ended up making liberal use of my the underscore, so that my messages read something like this :
w_ssu_? R u g0i_ 2 d p_rt_ t0_ight?
I thought it wouldn't hurt other people to exert effort to use their imaginations every once in awhile.
Then I tried the template method. I had a friend text me a message filled with nothing but Ds, Es, Fs, and all the other letters I lacked. To compose a message, i simply edited the message, inserting the other letters in between the Ds, Es, and Fs, and deleting the ones that weren't needed. It worked but it took me like 5 mins to type a message.
After about 4 days of texting this way, it just got too ridiculous and I decided to get the phone fixed. People can easily misinterpret and assign their own values to messages composed of underscores, and I hated the template idea. And now I have it back!!!
IT LIV_S!!! :-p
Another despicable campaign
I just saw the stupidest contest on ABS called "Youngwhite" guest VJ search. It's under Johnson's Pure Essentials and their looking for young girls with white skin to be guest VJs on 23. Among all ad campaigns, the ones I despise the most are shampoo ads and skin-whitening ads. And here they are saying you have to be white to win their frickin' VJ contest!!! Why don't they get Michael Jackson to VJ for crying out loud?!
Criteria for contestants says: Girls with clear, smooth skin; but as the name "Youngwhite" suggests, they'll be picking out only the white skinned ones. Nothing wrong with white skin, I just hate how it's such a colonial standard of beauty. I mean, Filipinos are BROWN, and there's absolutely nothing wrong with it. But everything I just wrote has already been said a million times, so what's new?
A few things I should do before I graduate from college
1) Dress up in heels and tight clothes and go clubbing in "Ponti", "Pravda", "Wherelse", "Wasabi" and all those other places that make me feel awkward, and suffocated.
2) Dance (I don't dance).
3) Initiate a peace treaty or at least be on light speaking terms with my exboyfriend from freshman year. I thought I'd hate him forever when we broke up but now I don't. I really wish I didn't burn/shred/throw away all our pictures because now there's a big empty gap in my college scrapbook.
Tuesday, August 26, 2003
1 giant sob
Every single one of my pictures on my i-photo just deleted themeselves for some mysterious reason. All my pictures, neatly labeled and organized into album folders, all my memories, and projects. All gone.
I didn't even tinker with the program or anything. All that's left are down-graded, jpeg versions that cannot be read by i-photo.
It was working fine this morning so I really don't know what happened.
I really, really want to cry...
On a lighter note...
How sharp is your memory? Where you one of those Sanrio obsessed kids who had to have evrything from pencils, dolls, wallets, and stationery, to lunchboxes, thermoses, and even freakin' utensils? If not, how attentive were you to trends?
TAKE THE TEST!!! See if you can name all "retro"/ "vintage" Sanrio characters below. Type your answers in the comments link (I love showing off how much I remember about the 80s)
BTW, credit for these pictures goes to an unofficial Sanrio page I found. You'll see it displayed under Astig Links on my side bar.
Whoever names them all gets to be called winner!
Noone's answering anymore so the answers are as follows:
1) Spotty Dotty 2) Tuxedo Sam 3)Winky Pinky 4)Zashikibuta 5)Ahiruno Pekkle
6)My Melody 7) Bad Batz Maru 8) Kiki and Lala the Little Twin Stars 9) Keroppi
10) Chococat
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Allelluia!!!
My comments link has finally decided to show itself and everything is once again in divine order. Except for villagephoto, that is. Now some of my pictures wont show. What's up with that?Zzzzzz...
I swear to God I'm becoming a narcoleptic. I fall asleep in class unknowingly. And it seems to be happening more often, not just during morning classes anymore. I woke up in the middle of philosophy this morning with my teacher sitting on his desk right smack in front of me. It's getting quite embarrassing.
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Sunday, August 24, 2003
Teaching Myself HTML: I am now a geek
Okay... so the site looks a little gay right now. I discovered how to change font, and how to center pictures but still not exactly... I have spent the last 2 hours in a grueling process of trial and error and the results look a little "blech". I mean, those rainbow eyes look really gay but I didn't know what else to put for now. Also, I can't figure out the whole font-numbering system in the template, the < h6 > or < h2 > or whatever so I've been typing in random numbers hoping for good results. Hopefully I get the overall look tied down in a couple of weeks.
As always, I am open to any tricks you might be able to teach me (Gracias to those who post helpful tips on my comments link).
We Live In A Country The Size of a Box
While wasting time surfing the inter-net (instead of devoting precious time to my grad thesis), I came across something that kind of freaked me out. The main topic of conversation during family lunch today is the upcoming alumni home-coming of my nursery school, PG Nursery School. All of us in the family are pretty excited about it since meand my siblings were all part of PG's first batch of students. My sister is, in fact, part of PG's first batch of kids, and their oldest alumna. When she was three, she made a doodle of what was to become PG's official logo. In a turn of nostalgia, I decided to research the old school on the web.
What I instead got was some girl's online journal talking about how her kuya was my classmate in nursery school. Of course, I wouldn't remember him would I? Not unless he was that cute, curly haired boy in the playground with the battery-operated, light-up sword whom I was madly in love with at 4 years old (I doubt it).
Anyway, she was even talking about how in my nursery school class picture, I was holding a teddy bear on my lap. Jesus Christ! She was talking about non other than "Mama Bear", the stuffed toy I was absolutely partial to during the first five years of my life! It was my security object, and none of the teachers ever dared take it away from me even if we weren't allowed to bring toys from home. When I asked them why 8 years later, they said it was because I was such a "fragile child". Makes me sound like I was disturbed.
But anyway, this girl also made some comment about how it was fun stalking unsuspecting people through their journals, before proceeding to post a link to MY journal. Meaning, she frequents my journal and will be reading this soon. Which brings me to my NEXT POINT! (Read on, girl).
REVEAL THYSELF!
It has come to my attention that random strangers / individuals who hover within six degrees of separation actually come here to read my blog entries, lurk in the shadows, and immediately dart away, without leaving so much as a trace. or in this case, a comment. i know, this is so utterly presumptuous of me to assume that i have lurkers...but a few have come out into the open recently, presenting something of a pleasant surprise. so it would seem that i actually have anonymous readers.
so. who are you people, eh? step forward! i promise, i won't bite.
of course, i could most likely be talking out of my ass. maybe nobody bothers to lurk, which is quite possibly comforting. i'm simultaneously flattered and terrified by the fact that complete strangers and not-so-strangers come here to putter about and wade through my rambling, picking out details of my existence. *shudder*
then again, maybe i'm really just swimming in my own backyard pool of delusion. hahaha. delusion. but just in case anyone feels like confessing, i'll be sitting here. waiting.
anyone out there?
*** note: I plagiarized this entry pretty much word per word from my friend Naz's LJ because i basically want to say the same thing he wrote and I'm too lazy to paraphrase something already perfectly said.
Of course, I had to edit some minor stuff (such as changing "Livejournal" to "blog", and omitting anything that refers to "Queen of the World"). For a copy of the original entry, visitNaz's live journal .
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Saturday, August 23, 2003
Congratulations to me, ladies and gentlemen. I figured out a way to put an overly-large, badly positioned, and obscene picture of myself on my blog's heading. I don't know how to center it and I would appreciate it if someone would show me how. It looks kind of awkward where it is but I got jealous of my LJ friends who had cute little pics of themselves on their LJs.
And while were at it, how do you change the font? I hate this size 12, Arial sh*t. I'm sick of it.
BTW, as you might've noticed, I made myself some "emoticons" (being the vain person that I am). You'll be seeing them all over.
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*** My New Grey-clad Male Fantasy
Just came home from LXG. F*cking amazing! I'm usually not a sucker for these highly anticipated, glitzy, trend movies (I hated The Matrix), with the exception of the LOTR trilogy of course. I don't know if it was because I was just in an unusually complacent and accepting mood tonight but I seriously enjoyed the movie. I think what made it different from other action-adventure films was the lack of that American arrogance and brainless, a**hole chit-chatter many American action characters have. Instead, we are presented with cutting, English wit (such memorable one-liners), sheer poise and coolness in the face of come-what-may, and oh, the characters!!! Such dignified, dignified people! They walk in refinement and sophistication...then of course there's that impeccable, British wit that just never ceases to amaze me (and trust me, they're ALL like that. I spent a month in England and all of them, no matter what gender or age, are qualified to be English teachers anywhere in the world).
The movie makes excellent use of film noir (oops, my being a com arts major is beginning to emerge), bathing the movie in shadow, mystery, and anticipation. I swear, the suspense and excitement PULSES through you throughout the movie. It is so damn good and it doesn't try too hard. I usually have trouble suspending my disbelief with these fantasy-ish movies but I gladly did just that for this one.
Then of course, there's the excellent casting. Stewart Townsend as Dorian Gray yum, yum, yum. He is so hot, even my boyfriend said he noticed my eyes sparkling the first time he emerged on screen. And the way he drives that sword through his enemies (that sounded a little Freudian) oooooh lala, drool, drool, slurp. Oh my blessed, he looks so hot in grey suits, standing amidst plush, velvet, baroque chairs in old-world, English libraries. I love his sheer smugness, his a**holeness, his heartlessness, and his superior composure.
Stewart Townsend was cast as the original Aragorn in the LOTR series but he was fired because a) He was acting like a rockstar brat (in Trina's words), and b) he looked too young to be Aragorn (I agree). I think he's a tad too hot to be Aragorn. A lot of the die-hard Tolkien fans would have been pissed if they had casted some pretty boy to be Aragorn. Although it never crossed my mind at first that Viggo Mortensen could personify Aragorn, I think he does the character justice. Nevertheless, Stewart Townsend must be kicking himself in the head.
*** 80s Love Songs
I've been 80s tripping lately and putting songs like "Make It Real" by The Jets and Chicago's "Glory of Love" on repeat. I love 80s love songs. I believe the 80s was the era from whence the best love songs sprung. While the 70s captured the joy of love in Motown music (think Al Green, Marvin Gaye, Jackson 5) and the 90s captured the wishywashiness of love (think Boyz 2 Men), the 80s captured the DRAMA, the MAGNITUDE, the LONGING for love. Boyz 2 Men never did it for me.
After the 80s, love song lyrics just aren't as romanticized anymore. You don't hear any more songs with words like:
"We'll live forever, knowing together, that we did it all for the glory of love"
or
"Say my name, sun shines through the rain, a whole life, so lonely, and then come and ease the pain".
80s love songs, and only 80s love songs, can induce a certain type of heightened emotion, a kind of euphoria, an intensified yearning of the heart, a desire to fly on the gossamer wings of love. We laugh when people sing them in karaoke bars but emote to them when wer'e all alone. I think it all has something to do with the interplay of the canned, electronic-bonggo beat, the dramatic clang of the cymbals (strategically placed at the most passionate verses of the song), the unabashedly cheesy lyrics, and of course, the defining element of the 80s love song: the guitar solo.
The 80s love song guitar solo usually comes after after the refrain that follows the second stanza. It features highly dramatic guitar licks, as if the notes were trying to reach heaven. Although the electric guitar is most commonly associated with rock music, the guitar solo was in no way restricted to rock songs. Every mulleted, shoulder-padded musician of the 80s, crooning baduy lyrics into a microphone, made use of the guitar solo.
(On the side: speaking of the word "baduy", isn't it great that we Filipinos invented such a useful word? I mean, there is just no suitable English word for "baduy". "Tacky" or "cheap" don't really give off the same flavor. I pity the English language for missing out on the benefits of having such an awesome adjective as "baduy". )
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Thursday, August 21, 2003
*** I have a new gadget, I have a new gadget!
It's 2 in the morning and I just came home from a shoot. I have decided here and now that I'm going to skip Philo class tomorrow and sleep in instead because, dammit, I deserve it, I deserve a good night's rest and some time to regenerate.
From my 4-hours of sleep a night routine, and my all-study-no-life existence, alas, I have fallen ill. I have that sickly, pasty palor that actually looks good in a glamorous-drug-addict kind of way. All I need is smudged eye-liner and I could be in a CK Ad. I still feel sh*tty though. Fever and slightly achy joints (but that might be from the shoot I had yesterday when they repeatedly made me jump 4 feet into the air...I, who never exerts herself in the least). All of this is really beginning to take it's toll on me. I'm so overworked that i can't even relax at night, which makes me even more tired in the morning.
It's 2 in the morning and I just came home from another shoot. I feel so bad for my hair, it's been scorched and burned, and pulled this way and that, and shredded by fine toothed combs and roller brushes so many times within the past few days. I also feel sorry for my skin which has been suffocated under layers of various brands of foundation, Shue Emurra (or however you spell it), Mac, and whatnot, and stripped dry and rough by all the chemical cleaning agents used to scrape the foundation off.
However, there is one wonderful thing that happened today. My uncle, in an act of revenge, decided to gift me with a 30 gig Macintosh I-pod. Yes, it was an act of utter spite and vengeance. Allow me to tell you why. He loves to spoil us nieces and nephews because...well... he's bored I guess. It sometimes gets to the point wherein I feel guilty and undeserving of all the petty baubles he likes to shower us with... I mean, there are kids dying of starvation in 3rd world countries all over the planet, and here I am receiving material objects for free, things that normal people would have to pay an arm and a leg for... things of material value equivalent to the cost of feeding a hungry family for a week maybe.
So when I bought my I-book (of course he tried to pay for it), I put my foot down and demanded that I pay for it with my own money because I wanted it to be MY purchase, MY toy, something that ME, MYSELF, worked hard for. I even had to write him a letter justifying why I had to pay for my I-book.
He accepted but "only this once". And now, he has gotten the best revenge on me... by buying me an I-pod with some lame excuse about it being a "late birthday gift" (my birthday was 4 months ago and he gave me a Magic-sing on the day itself). Oooh, how cunning. I felt horrible for taking it but what was I supposed to do, give it back?
Whoever invented this thing is f*cking demented. I was able too transfer 450 songs into it in TWO, f*cking minutes!!! That's even less the time it takes to transfer just one song into a normal MP3 player!!! It's sleek and white, has these incredible buttons that you dn't have to press down on (it responds to touch and doesn't make annoying, squeaky noises), and get this: It can hold up to 8,000 songs!!! Thats all the music you'll ever need in a lifetime (maybe even more)!
Like I said, whoever made this thing was insane, but my uncle is even more insane for giving me one.
When I realized it could transfer 450 songs in two minutes, I felt so overwhelmed, and kind of lost, and I just sat there in a daze staring at the damn thing and thinking "okay... what do I do now?" (Listen, perhaps?). So, that's what i did,I picked it up, put on the earphones, and listened... and listened.
******
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Wednesday, August 20, 2003
Shot my ad yesterday, the one that involved butt shots. They gave me a fake butt. Can you believe it? a FAKE BUTT?!?! It looks like an oven mitt that you tuck into your pants. It looked fabulous! It sure made me look like I had a fine a**.
I'm really proud of it. I know my butt will never look like that ever again.
**** MATRIX PINGPONG
Those Japanese have done it again!
If the Matrix had a PingPong Olympics, this is what it would look like...except this was done without spending millions of dollars on special effects.
The Japanese are known for being high-tech but this is an amazing example of the wonders of primitive technology.
http://www.astercity.net/~tobik/pingpong.html
DO check this out. I promise it is every bit worth your time.
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Sunday, August 17, 2003
*** Ego-Tripping***
I came across the queen mother of ego-trips today, in a poem written in the 1960s by black power activist Nikki Giovanni. It is the wittiest, most heavenly-divine self-praise ever. It's almost as if my friend Naz wrote it. In fact, the only indication that Naz is not the author is the poem's utter lack of bitchiness (I love you Naz :-) Thank you for giving me your LJ code).
I first came across the poem through the rap group "Blackalicious" who did a spoken-word take on it. I decided to search the net for the lyrics which made me discover the poem's true authorship. Screw Maya Angelu and her "Phenomenal Woman" claptrap. What you are are about too read is the ego-inflation mantra to beat.
title: "Ego Tripping"
(there may be a reason why)
I was born in the congo
I walked to the fertile crescent and built
the sphinx
I designed a pyramid so tough that a star
that only glows every one hundred years falls
into the center giving divine perfect light
I am bad
I sat on the throne
drinking nectar with allah
I got hot and sent an ice age to europe
to cool my thirst
My oldest daughter is nefertiti
the tears from my birth pains
created the nile
I am a beautiful woman
I gazed on the forest and burned
out the sahara desert
with a packet of goat’s meat
and a change of clothes
I crossed it in two hours
I am a gazelle so swift
so swift you can’t catch me
For a birthday present when he was three
I gave my son hannibal an elephant
He gave me rome for mother’s day
My strength flows ever on
My son noah built new/ark and
I stood proudly at the helm
as we sailed on a soft summer day
I turned myself into myself and was
jesus
men intone my loving name
All praises All praises
I am the one who would save
I sowed diamonds in my backyard
My bowels deliver uranium
the filings from my fingernails are
semi-precious jewels
On a trip north
I caught a cold and blew
My nose giving oil to the arab world
I am so hip even my errors are correct
I sailed west to reach east and had to round off
the earth as I went
The hair from my head thinned and gold was laid
across three continents
I am so perfect so divine so ethereal so surreal
I cannot be comprehended
except by my permission
I mean … I … can fly
like a bird in the sky…
—Nikki Giovanni
If you want to hear an excellent spoken-word version, look for "Blackalicious"'s version (also called "Ego Trip").
If you are unfamiliar with the group, I urge you check them out. If you are one of those rock-loyalists who despise hip-hop and know nothing of the medium aside from canned, main-stream, low-vocabulary produce like Ja-Rule, Nelly, and 50 Cent, I urge you to lower your rocker-ego and treat yourself to "Blackalicious". These guys are serious poets, serious lyrical masters, and all in the spirit of fun and and creativity (meaning, no Eminem angst).
To give you a fitting example of their lyrical skill, check out their "Alphabet Aerobics". The first set of verses is a play on words beginning with the letter A (meaning every word in the verse begins with letter A), the second stanza is a play on words that begin with letter B, and so on until they reach the letter Z. It's cool.
****
On the subject of spoken word, check out the soundtrack of 'Il Postino". It features Hollywood celebrities such as Andy Garcia, Glenn Close, and even Madonna reciting and interpreting (in English) the best of Pablo Neruda's poems to music from the movie, poems such as "Tonight I Can Write", "I Like For You To Be Still", and I can't really recall the titles of the others right now. It's a worthy buy, great for quiet moments alone in your room, and helps cure insomnia (in my case).
Am I in, like, review mode today???
****
After today, i will never be bitchy towards another saleslady again. It's different when the tables are turned and YOU are made to be a saleslady for a day, which is how I spent my Sunday afternoon at Penshoppe's grand opening in Megamall. To think we weren't even REALLY doing saleslady work (we did all the easy, meet-and-greet customer stuff), its still requires a great amount of guts, patience, persistence, and rock-solid self-esteem. It is easy to feel like sh*t when a customer snaps at you, or ignores you. The REAL Penshoppe salesladies seemed amused while watching us try to do their jobs.
*****
Mark Nelson has this very gay print ad for bench underwear, wearing tighty reddies (red briefs), standing in what appears to be a deep basin filled with apples, and a yellow snake coiled across his body. It was obviously conceptualized by a gay man, or as Cindy would say, the ad was conceptualized in the spirit of ka-badingan. I have nothing against badings but please, that ad is not going to make straight men want to go to Bench and buy their red briefs. Maybe the ad is actually targeting women, so that women will want to go to Bench and buy their boyfriends red briefs... even then, only women with really beef-cake, macho-dancer fantasies.
I have nothing against Mark Nelson, i just think the ad is funny. Anyway, I'm only writing about this because Mark Nelson is in the next room having his picture taken by my dad for some magazine.
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Saturday, August 16, 2003
For all you people who have tried to teach me how to upload pics into my blog, thank you very much. I now know that I am hopeless at these things. I have been trying to upload a picture for the past hour but there's something about it I just don't understand.
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Friday, August 15, 2003
I feel horrible horrible horrible horrible horrible...
It all has something to do with eating too much oily food, taking a 3-hour long Philosophy exam, and realizing what a petty, overly sensitive person I can be.
I hate getting into my existential moods wherein I start scrounging around for meaning in my life and my relationships because I only end up feeling like I haven't lived or given enough.
I'm too young to be going through mid-life crisis so I must be going through mid-mid-life crisis. or maybe I'm just like this because I've been studying non-stop for a week and I haven't gotten a complete night's sleep in like, 5 days. It produces a kind of mild depression.
Today was a bad day.
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Wednesday, August 13, 2003
*** Taking a break from studying Gabriel Marcel - note: this guy is awesome because he tackles FAITH and not religion. He tackles The Creator, and not Jesus or Allah or the Holy Trinity. Alot of good, wise ideas on God are ruined when religious propaganda is injected into it (case in point, Teilhard de Chardin's "The Phenomenon of Man". Brilliant, and universal thoughts on God and man but ending in an extremely biased promotion of the Catholic faith... well, he was a Jesuit after all). I feel that a person who has caught a clearer glimpse of God does not box him into religion (but that is just my opinion). ANYWAY...it's off topic. Enough God-speak.
The REAL topic of this post is something far more complicated, far more abstract.
Here goes:
*** Should I, or should I not, cut my hair?*** (oh, the agony of uncertainty)
I'm so sick of it. It's really long. It goes down to my bra-strap. I can't ever leave it down because this unGodly tropical weather gives my hair a very rebellious temperament.
At the same time, i was practically bald for half my highschool life and now that it's so nice and long, I feel like cutting it would be a waste. Also, long hair looks better on television... oooh, did I just say that? Am i going to let television dictate what my hair length should be? No, no, no!
But here are other things that prevent me from cutting my hair:
1) Sayang (hair is hard to grow)
2) Vanity- it is better to look good than to feel good.
3) Girl vs Woman - Short hair makes me look (and act) like a kid while long hair just makes me feel more...womanly. It's amazing how a girl's hairlength can affect her overall behavior though, how she acts, how she walks, and how she dresses. Just ask any girl. I find that I am more spunky and malikot when my hair is short.
However, I sometimes feel that my soul is a short hair soul. Will cutting my hair help me to fully actualize that soul?
4) Greed- I will probably get more modeling jobs with long hair.
More modeling jobs= more money.
5) Boyfriend- boyfriends always prefer their girl's hair long. Even when they tell you that your new short hair cut is "nice", you know they are lying and they don't really like it... but then again, a girl's hairlength should not matter if her boyfriend's love for her is true... right??? (am I seriously worried about this?!)
6) There are only so many ways you can cut curly hair- There are so many hair fantasies I would like to fullfill that I simply cannot due to the laws of hair physics. All around me I see straight-haired women disappear into the salon and emerge with cute little baby bangs or classy bobs, and I, with the wilderness on my head, can only choose between "short layers" or "long layers". It sucks.
So why do i want to cut my hair? I'm BORED!!! I've been stressed and miserable and I somehow feel that cutting my hair will change my life. Also, my locks are damaged.
Also, by keeping my hair long, I feel as if I lose some of my individuality by conforming to the "long-hair standard" that is followed by so many of the women out there who are considered by society to be attractive.
What should I choose? Vanity or self-actualization? Money or Happiness? Conformity or Individuality? Approval from others or My own self-love?
It's a dilemma every woman has to face.
But anyway, it's time to go back to reading Marcel.
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Tuesday, August 12, 2003
In love ako sa boses ni Kevin Roy! Kinikilig ako tuwing naririnig ko siyang kumakanta ng "Red Horse Beer". Wala akong ma download na Razorback kaya sa "Red Horse" jingle ko lang talaga siya naririnig kumanta. Bad trip.
*** Highschool Fantasy Fullfillment ***
I just got back from rehearsal for my soon-to-be shot commercial for Penshoppe. Contract won't allow me to disclose the concept for it but it involves close-up butt shots (woohoo!) and an artista whom I used to have a monstrous crush on in highschool.I even had pin-ups of him and all. So this is kind of a late dream-come-true for me (I will die if he ever reads this). Its never too late for a fantasy to be fullfilled.
Anyway, I have until Monday to eat lots of fatty food so I'll have a butt (somewhat) by the time we shoot. Maybe I can get a butt double. My sister has a nice a**. So does my friend Jenn.
*** Some More Rantings on How Stressed and Miserable I've Been ***
As usual I had to drag myself through the day due to the many nights of puyat I've been having. I fell asleep in Philosophy today for the third time in a row. It doesn't help that i sit right smack in front of my philo teacher. plus, I fall asleep with out even knowing it...it's not even a conscious action! So far I haven't drooled yet. thank God!
I have no life, I have no life. I'm miserable. All I do is stay home and study. I have a Theology exam tomorrow and I'm supposed to be studying the doctrine of original sin right now but my brain is just too fried. Then there's thesis to worry about. aaargh! When shall I be delivered from this valley of death? I wish I would just f*cking graduate. I reallly should'nt be writing on this blog right now
*** In Praise of Mac Users ***
Four new people I know just bought Macintosh I-books (like mine!). Aaah, so many former PC users discovering the path to enlightenment! Mac, I believe, is a step closer than PC to the great, central, technological-omega (have you seen the G5?!).
I get a surge of maternal feelings towards first time Mac owners, telling them, what cool free software to download, giving them tips, and brainwashing them until they are staunch believers in the supreme superiority of Mac over PC.
I, who grew up using a Mac never paid attention in computer class back when I was in Highschool at Holy Spirit. Why learn about MS-DOS when I could do the same thing at home with the click of the mouse (and faster too)?
Mac has nicer graphics, is more straight to the point, and when it comes to sheer class, and elegance, you have to agree Mac is damn hard to beat! Those Mac people really know how to design their gadgets. Just looking at them is sheer aesthetic pleasure! They really know how to make people drool.
I sound like a godamn fanatic.
My brother accidentally got an inkstain on the surface of my white I-book g3 yesterday and when he tried to rub it out he left a scratch. Needless to say, i was very upset and got way more angry than I should have. Does anybody know if anyone has invented a substance for cleaning dirty I-book G3s???
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Saturday, August 09, 2003
*** A CADAVER NAMED EDDIEBOY: CONFESSIONS OF A UST MED STUDENT***
Just came from Dan's birthday party in Fazoli's, Eastwood. I saw some old highschool friends whom I haven't seen since the days when I had braces and a crew cut. Two of my old guy friends are apparently in med school now and one of them, Janlo, started talking about his cadaver whom he named "Eddieboy", a name derived from one of the many tatoos on the cadaver's body (isn't that redundant? "cadaver's body"?) ... its weird how I refer to it as "it"? I mean I know it's a human body but I naturally refer to it as "it". I got so curious that i made him show me pictures of his cadaver taken on on his Palm Zire 71.
What he showed me were about 10 pictures of rib muscles, liver, a cross section of a real human face, a picture of the external body with a large inscition (I suddenly have no idea how to spell that word right. Insition? Incition? I forgot) and lots of other pictures of what looked like tapa.
It's amazing how the human body just looks so much like ordinary kitchen meat. Like the frozen chicken left to thaw on the counter, the beef being cleaved on the chopping board (or at the shawarma stand), the tapa in the plastic bag, the lechon baka roasting on a spit at a family reunion. Looking at the pictures is nauseating for the for the 1st 5 seconds and after that it just becomes fascinating. Not just fascinating but captivating! You just can't take your eyes away from the sight of it and after you've seen one picture, you want to see more. After seeing those pictures, I can't help but look at other people and think "meat". Wer'e all meat.
He told me many cadaver stories, about the time he dreamt that he woke up and Eddieboy was laying his head on his chest until he woke up (for real this time) and realized it was just a dream. He told me how the cadavers' hair and nails continue grow, how their bodies are stiff like plastic, how the formaldehyde smells like Menthos, how some of them are decapitated, and how in the end, all of them are mass-buried in the same grave. He also said that Eddieboy's eyeballs had somehow imploded in on themselves and they were lost somewhere in his skull.
Then there's that story of the med student who purchased his own cadaver so he could do home study. He kept it in his dorm and people say he slowly went insane, talking to the cadaver and sitting it upright.
I asked him if there were any stories of necrophiliac med students but he didn't have any (am I sick or what?).
Janlo ended up taking me home from the party. I rode shot gun and my friend Elea rode in the back. I was leaning over my seat to talk to Elea when in the darkness I saw something white and rickety behind her, on that little spot above the backseat where people put Kleenex boxes and cat dolls. I was midsentence when I saw it and shouted, 'Elea look behind you!" and when she did she screamed. It was a human spine.
"It's fake", said Janlo.
"T*ngina, man!", I said.
Now I'm all alone in the living room at 1:30 in the morning. Everyone's asleep and the lights on the staircase are off. I keep thinking of cadavers and I can't help but feel the hairs on the back of my neck rise as I imagine Eddieboy groping around stiffly and blindly in the darkness with his imploded eyeballs, with his liver hanging out of his inscition. Yeesh.
Di ako maliligo tonight.
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Friday, August 08, 2003
I've just been looking through my friends' blogs and they all have nice graphics and sh*t. Why can't I do that??? My blog is plain and dull!
WAAAAAHHH! I'm having an attack of blog-insecurity.
Anyway, here I am wasting a perfectly good Friday afternoon, agonizing over what I should do for my creative pose for my yearbook. My shoot is tomorrow and I have absolutely no idea what I'm going to do. My original idea was Darna but requirements state that our outfits have to be predominantly black. Too bad because I made myself the coolest Darna head dress.
Speaking of Darna, I saw the Ballet Philippines production at CCP last night. They had alot of good ideas but they really could've done better. Alot of the parts were dragging, particularly the interpretative dance parts and noone could understand it anyway. Also, the humor was injected in between such long intervals that it fell flat more often than not.
But the actress who played Darna was excellent at flying. She looked positively natural.
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My co-veejay showed us a naked polaroid of himself yesterday. It was the very first thing he did when I walked into the dressing room (crazy boy! :-p). Now, we've all seen him in some degree of nakedness quite a number of times like during our trip to Puerto Gallera wherein his exhibitonist tendencies were revealed for the first time as he pranced around on the sand in his swimming shorts. But that picture was the NAKEDEST we had ever seen him and my jaw quite literally dropped.
I think Lucky would gladly walk out of his house naked if it weren't against the law.
He's one of those gym people who love to show off the results of months of working out.The picture was for some women's magazine apparently, probably Cosmo or something.Well, that'll be a treat for his female fans! Should've stolen it and sold it.
:-p
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I made my father watch "Y Tu Mama Tambien" and he hated it.
I feel slightly embarrassed because I praised it to high heavens just so he would watch it, saying it was "a coming-of-age film that actually has something to say", "set against the charming backdrop of Mexico", and that it was "The turmoil of adolescence intertwined with Mexico's political structure". All he had to say about it was that it was "trashy and mababaw".
He probably thinks I only liked it for the sex scenes.
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Thursday, August 07, 2003
* MY JOURNEY THROUGH ENEMY LINES: THE MTV AWARDS*
Went to a forbidden place last night: the Mtv Awards sponsored by SMART. I, being a high profile Gentxter and representative of Mtv's main competitor, felt like an outcast. I don't think I'm even allowed to go to Mtv events but I figured it wouldn't matter if I didn't draw too much attention to myself. Alas, upon entering the NBC tent, rockstar boyfriend in hand, I immediately found myself treading on orange carpet, fenced in by velvet rope, and bombarded by camera flashes. I knew they were going for Nino and not me but
Tuesday, August 05, 2003
*REPLIES TO COMMENTS* AND *CORRUPT FASTFOOD INSTITUTIONS*
Okay, I do not know how to reply to comments people post so:
DAVE - told you ASIAN PRINCE rocks!
****For those of you who have not witnessed the horror and the glory of the ASIAN PRINCE, visit http://www.geocities.com/asianprince213/index.html .
Be sure to tour the entire site. Trust me, you MUST see it all before you die...if you don't die laughing within the first 5 minutes.
OATS - glad to know I have a regular visitor who appreciates my writing :-) I love to write and I write better knowing someone is going to read my stuff. Thanks! Do you have a blog? I havent tried out all those code things yet btw. Haven't had the time. But I will!
MICH D. - yo! checked out your live journal and it sure is cute. You mention John Pratts quite alot you obsessed fan, you. I heart Jericho too!
DEP- thank you for short but sweet one-liners.
NAZ- my dad was curious about livejournals so i showed him yours as an example. I completely forgot that you had headings in big bold font entitled "Blow Job Tips" and "Virginity". whoops!!!
If anybody is willing to give me blog tutorials please do. I really suck at this kind of thing. Just wait till I have a website!
SPEAKING OF WHICH!!! Nino has agreed to make my official website but I don't want it cutesy and I don't want it to be one of those celebrity pages full of dumb information and beauty shots. It's not even going to be a celebrity page, just a "me" page...with lots of cool pictures and funky information and artwork and essays and strange things. I'm still conceptualizing it and I probably won't be able to start it soon 'coz thesis keeps me busy (yaaaargh!!!).
Basta, it's going to be supah cool!!!!
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****CORRUPT FASTFOOD INSTITUTIONS!!!****
Jollibee has milkshakes! Jollibee has milkshakes! Wahoo! Happy days are here again! :-) :-) :-)
And screw you, Mcdonalds, for your half-filled Mcflurry cups (they deviously line just the inner walls of the cup to provide an illusion of the cup being full... until you see the deep, gaping, ice-creamless gorge in the middle of the cup) and your empty promises of big, juicy burgers (their burgers have gotten considerably smaller don't you think? Or maybe my hands got bigger), and your dilluted iced-tea (what DO they mix in with that iced tea? Tastes like coke, sprite, and water mixed together).
You know, my little brother actually went up to the counter people once complaining that the amount of ice-cream in his Mcflurry didn't resemble the one in the menu picture. In reply, the counter boy said, "Ser, commercial lang yung picture".
So we have one of Ronald Mcdonald's minions admitting that their ads present the public with false information! It's a big lie! They owe the Philippine public 200 million worth of Mcflurries from the money they've stolen from us.
I have wisened up to your little deceptions, Ronald Mcdonald!!!! You can keep your french fries and your happy meals and your little Fry Kids too!!!
You should never trust a clown, anyway.
And speaking more on sneaky, underhanded attempts of local restaurants to cost-cut, Shakey's sucks too. They charge you more than 200 for a "Bunch-o-Lunch" and in exchange they give you this little glob of spaghetti, 3 mojos, and a piece of chicken. IF YOU WANNA GIVE SMALLER PORTIONS, LOWER YOUR DAMN PRICES! THEN PEOPLE LIKE ME WONT HATE YOU!
Beware of Captain Shakeys!!! (Or is it Carlos Agassi? Who is their mascot anyway?). Shakeys is cunning and corrupt!!!
No offense, mister Agassi! It's just a joke :-p really. I'm sure you are always given sizeable portions when you dine there...and I'll bet they don't even make you pay, you lucky stiff! :-p
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Dammit, I have no life.
All I do is study and I rarely go out, interact with people, much less even move. I sit on my living room sofa all day with my lap top and my handouts. I study on this sofa, I sleep on this sofa, and when Nino cmes over (the only non-family member I interact with nowadays) we hang out on the sofa. The living room is beginning to look like an office thanks to me. My mom isn't too pleased about it.
I feel like a slug and all I do is worry about school...and when I do leave the house for parties or just to go to the mall to escape, I feel guilty because I feel like I should be home doing school work!
This is not good!!!
I'm beginning to feel quite miserable about it. I want to be around my friends. I feel like I'm getting too serious. I can't be funny... my humor has dried up and for some reason I get angry so easily nowadays. Even the people I'd get all excited to hang out with last school year don't seem to interest me right at this moment. Taking time to pick out a nice outfit and apply a coat of mascara used to be a grand part of my morning ritual. Now all my mornings are heavy, and groggy and I'm always a couple minutes behind schedule so I'm in a clumsy rush. I've taken to wearing the same pair of pants 5 days a week, and old t-shirts. My hair is usually a matted mess and I don't even wear mascara or lipgloss. Noone is in school at 7:30 am anyway, what's the use of looking nice?
I miss people plopping down next to me and genuinely asking me how I'm doing. I need some kind of refreshment. But I just don't have the time!
I think it's because I'm in some sort of limbo right now...I'm in in-between two points in time. I'm in a waiting phase. Waiting for my sister to move out in a month so I can claim ur bedroom as my own, and finnaly organize and paint it the way I want to. Waiting for my damn thesis to be over.
waiting to find out whether I'll graduate or not. Waiting to do this, waiting to do that. It's all weighing down on me. And my damn schedule doesn't help either. Need to wake up at 6 am everyday so I can barely keep my eyes open by 10:30 pm.
What I want is a trip to the beach, or up to Baguio with friends. I need the company of platonic friends, people who are more interested in talking to me than kissing me. I want to go shopping. I want to drink wine, and eat fancy little hoers de oveurs (is that hiow you spell it?)
Then I want to be taken out on a really fancy candle-lit dinner where I'll have to get really dressed up, as in girly dress, diamond earings, make-up, nice hair, the works. I need to feel special.
It's dinner time so I have to stop whining now. bye.
Posted by
Sunday, August 03, 2003
I think I'm starting to become a real Razorback fan. I've always had a very casual and passive attraction to their music but since my 14 year old brother has been blaring their music constantly, I've started listening in a more active way.
Kevin Roy has an amazing voice. Better than his brother Karl. Kaya lang ang sungit niya. These moody rockers! Laging sinusumpong. I've been with him during a couple gigs I think and he only talks to me when he's looking for Nino hahaha! :-p maybe he hates MYX.
Speaking of Karl Roy, I was in Eastwood with my family last night and Karl Roy went up to my dad and said "Sir, diba you manage Elly?". He obviously mistook my dad for Butch Dans, the APO's manager, whom i think really does manage Elly Buendia. My dad talked to him anyway with the lukewarm condescendence of someone who's a veteran in the music field giving a young'un the honor of his attention.
I found it rather funny.
Of course, my brother Mio, who idolizes Karl Roy, almost peed in his pants.
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Saturday, August 02, 2003
*** Teenage Mutant Ninja Shrimp; Thesis Mantra; Meeting my Boyfriend's Highschool Class; and Some Theo-genetical Points for Reflection Regarding Divine Sperm Donors***
*Teenage Mutant Ninja Shrimp!
Carlos Syllianteng just gave me bag containing 5 shrimp the size of my foot! They're monster shrimp,teenage mutant ninja shrimp. They have tough-as-nails shells, long blue antennae, and they look like they can hurt you. He dropped by Gayuma and gave them to me. I immediately took a trike home so I could put them in the freezer. When I dismounted the trike, one of their long blue antennae poked through the plastic bag, through my jeans, and pricked me on the thigh.
Now I'm having shrimp dreams. Dreams of gigantic, blue, monster shrimp simmering in butter and garlic with a hint of lemon and white pepper! nyumnyumnyumnyum
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* Thesis Mantra
THERE IS NO REASON WHY I CANNOT ACE MY THESIS. THERE IS NO REASON WHY I CANNOT ACE MY THESIS. THERE IS NO REASON WHY I CANNOT ACE MY THESIS. THERE IS NO REASON WHY I CANNOT ACE MY THESIS. THERE IS NO REASON WHY I CANNOT ACE MY THESIS. THERE IS NO REASON WHY I CANNOT ACE MY THESIS. THERE IS NO REASON WHY I CANNOT....
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* Meeting My Boyfriend's Highschool Class
I went to Nino's highschool reunion last night, Ateneo High batch 1999, section H. He neglected to infom me that it was a swimming event so obviosuly didn't bring a suit. Also, he was the only guy who brought his girlfriend along with him. The only other 3 girls who came were "friend girls", whom they had all known since 1st year highschool.
You can imagine how much I wanted to hit Nino on the head for all this but I ended up really enjoying the night. JP lent me his smallest pair of swimming shorts (which still looked like "puruntong" on me). I swam in those and a tube top that stayed up nicely and made sure nothing popped out.
Got drunk,and dizzy, and blissy and went home at 3am wearing my pants, Nino's oversized polo shirt with the ends tied in a knot around my waist, and went totally commando (if you know what I mean). It feels nice :-p
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* Some Theo-genetical Points For Reflection Regarding Divine Sperm Donors
I passed by the college chapel bulletin board and there were all these posters of a cutesy Baby Jesus in a white tunic, with blue eyes, red lips, rosy cheeks and blonde curls. They drew Him to look like he was smiling and beaming divinely at the camera.
I hate cutesy drawings of the Baby Jesus. For one, He's supposed to be Jewish so it makes no sense for him to have blonde hair and blue eyes!!! He looks so Aryan that Hitler would have been proud.
Come to think of it, if Mary conceived immaculately then who did Jesus look like? I mean if God wanted to insert his son into human existence He would still have to follow natural laws right? I mean He did recognize that His son would still need a human mother in order to obtain a human body to be able to exist in this world. Otherwise, God could have just snapped His fingers and made Jesus appear out of two halves of a coconut, or a clay pot, or a cabbage patch. So if God did follow the natural laws of biology, appointing Mary to be the egg donor and birth mother of His son who was to be God incarnate, who's sperm was used?
Did God use his own (and does that mean God is male?) or did He use his powers to extract a sperm cell from Joseph and implant it into Mary's womb (using hi-tech divine medical procedures) so that Jesus would at least carry the genes of both Mary and Joseph and share their physical attributes, thus following the laws of genetics? Who did Jesus look like anyway? Or did he just not look like either of them?
(i sound more and more blasphemous as I go on talking)
But the bible says He was conceived by the Holy Spirit (does that make the Holy Spirit male?), but the Holy Spirit manifests itself as light, fire, and a white dove so Jesus obviously didn't take after His "sperm donor".
But I should stop here before somebody condemns me to hell.
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