Sunday, December 28, 2003
Geek Thoughts
Yesterday, me and a couple of friends started toying around with the idea of re-casting LOTR with Filipino actors. This is what we came up with:
Arwen would have to be played by Chin-chin Gutierrez, my ethereal next-door neighbor. She's definitely got the looks and the skin for it, and she's down with the whole commune-with-nature vibe, anyway. I think she likes to think of herself as some sort of nature fairy. A second choice would be Claudine Barretto.
Eowyn's warrior maiden of Rohan character could be captured by Alessandra de Rossi. She's got the spirit and she could definitely pull off the whole young-woman-seeking-her-place-in-the-world thing.
Aragorn: okay this was a tough one.The Philippines definitely has it's share of actors who are typecasted as authority figures, but unfortunately they're all action-stars (definitely not king-of-Gondor material). There were jokes of casting Bong Revilla and also FPJ (with a matching image in our heads of him wielding the sword of Narsil). We also thought of Christopher De Leon since he already has a beard like Viggo Mortensen. Richard Gomez came up but I thought he was too blah. Until finally we came up with what was unanimously agreed upon as the best choice: Cesar Montano. He can do the action scenes and yet mantain a dignified, kingly aura.
Legolas was another tough one. Who among our showbiz pretty boys would be able to pull of the role of an elf-boy sharp-shooter? Who could equal in beauty to Orlando Bloom? Finally, I decided on Miko Palanca for his delicate, effeminate features and glowing skin. He's also got a lithe, skinny, elfin frame, perfect for pulling off flying leaps on horses, and other elvish acrobatics.
What would LOTR be without hobbits? Naturally, we initially thought of Mahal or Mura for the role of Frodo. But after some serious thinking, I thought that Cogie Domingo might be able to pull off the emotional anguish and torment of the Ring Bearer (I mean hey, the kid's done "Deathrow", right?). just grow his hair and CGI him to make look shorter.Oh, and let's not forget the hobbit feet.
And what of the other hobbits? Samwise Gamgee would be Marvin Agustin and the other hobbits would be played by that "July" Quizon guy as Pippin (although John Pratts also came to mind) and Khalil Kaimo as Merry.
Galadriel: this was a major toughie. Galadriel is a matriarchal figure, and though the Philippines does not suffer from lack of gifted actresses who are matriarchal figures (like Sharon and Vilma), they just can't cut it as Galadriel. We decided we needed someone who could be both a matriarch and an empress. We racked our brains and furrowed our brows. Who could play Galadriel? Kris Aquino? (NO!) Angel Aquino? Finally, we thought that an older, more mature Gretchen Barretto could be our Galadriel.
Gandalf can only be played by Dolphy. Though he is our greatest comedian, he is also an excellent serious actor, and I think the only actor who would be able to give Gandalf the wisdom, authority, and dignity the role deserves.
And now, the hardest choice: Gollum. Who in our roster of showbiz folk could possibly do a Gollum? Someone mentioned Vic Sotto. Um, no. We all thought about it for a real long time, until finally we got the craziest idea: Rene Recuestas (if he were still alive of course). But according to my friend, his Visayan accent would be a real problem (think:"My pree-siyoos!").
Other roles:
Boromir- would be Christopher de Leon because he's good at looking like he has ulterior motives (like snatching the ring from Frodo).
Faramir would be Piolo Pascual. Wala lang. Maamo ang mukha
Denethor, crazed steward of Gondor would be FPJ kasi parehong kunot lagi ang noo nila.
Eomer would be Robin Padilla! Bad-boy leader of a rebellious, break-away military group of Rohan riders! Yeeha! Go Robin!
And finally, Saruman would be Noli de Castro... because it would be funny that way.
That's what geeks like us do during our free time, discuss geeky things like Lord of the Rings.
I now have no dignity left
Nino gave me a wonderful Christmas present. He walked up to me with his hands behind his back and presented me with: all four albums of Razorback, and a poster of their "Star" album, all of it signed by the whole band, including their original drummer Miguel Ortigas! May dedication pa yung poster! Eeeeeeeeeeeeek! All items now have a place of honor in my bedroom.
Kevin Roy even wrote "More VJ-ing power to you". Wahoo! Kilig, even if I'm not a VJ anymore. Whether or not Brian Velasco intentionally spelled "Merry Christmas" as "Merry Krimsas" is unknown but what the hell, I'm kilig anyway.
I now have no dignity left, no aura of mystery. Nino asked them to sign all that stuff for me, but in effect, I have been exposed. I am an obsessed fan and now they know it. It's not a secret anymore. How can I ever face them again?
Next time I see them, I can either cover my head in shame, or be my real, authentic, obsessed-fan self.
It was too bad they never got to guest in any of my shows on MYX. But then I'd probably be way too starstruck to do a decent interview if ever.
Haaaaaaaay!
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Monday, December 22, 2003
Thanks to all who graciously offered to help me out with my template. I have decided to give up on it. I never touched it and it went hay-wire by itself which means it's Blogger's fault. Something screwed up in their systems methinks. But to all who helped out, thanks a bunch.
The end
It's always an emotional shock when patterns of your life that you have gotten accustomed to are suddenly ended abruptly, like somebody pressing an "off" switch. There's such a feeling of cold, hard finality to it. Usually, patterns in our lives slowly fade away, expiring at a considerate pace, giving us time to lay out plans for new patterns. Like graduation for example, we gracefully and willingly yield to it because we prepared for it, saw it coming from a mile away.
Other endings are not so foreseeable however...
I remember when I used to do alot of theater back in high school. I would rehearse for a play for months, everyday, seeing and working with the same people. It becomes a routine, the play is, for that time, the center of your lives. Finally, the big day comes, performance day. And viola, the final curtain falls, and it's over before you even know it. We are ecstatic for a few moments, high and giddy from the applause of the audience. Then we collapse into one big huddle and sob. It's over. One cannot describe it. It's a feeling of joy and grief and intense affinity and kinship with each other. It's also heartbreak. You imagine each other going on with each other's lives... will they forget what you once shared? Will they treasure the memory of it as much you will?
Much like a break-up.
Saying goodbye to something you contributed to is much like a breakup. Both involve a painful goodbye, and you mourn over it in almost the same way. And just like a break-up, it involves an initial feeling of vulnerability, of lost identity. We ask ourselves, who am I now without the other?
These are of course, only the initial feelings that come after an ending. Afterwards, you pick yourself up, renewed, and relieved. You begin to see your former life as an old skin you've grown too big for, and you realize it was really time to move on anyway.
Then a world of endless possibilities opens up to you.
i can die now
This part of today's entry is where I gush over Return of the King. Those of you who have had actually read Tolkien, or have at least seen the movie, may continue reading. But for those of you who have no idea what happens, stop reading right here if you don't want me to spoil the movie for you. (You heard me... stop! I will not be held responsible for ruining the greatest movie of your life)
What can I say? I've been waiting for this movie to come in an almost sacred way. Shit. Wow.
I'm actually at a loss for words, which embarrasses me and makes me feel like one of those people emerging from Tagalog movie premieres and being interviewed on camera, swooning and shrieking, "Ang ganda ganda! Panoorin niyo!"
It was so good that I was even willing to overlook certain flaws, such as the Orc leader's resemblance to Sloth from "The Goonies". I was half-expecting him to start shouting, "Hey you guuuuys!". And to add to the movie's Goonies undertones, San Astin who plays Samwise Gangee, played the lead role of Mikey in "The Goonies".
Also, the Army of the Dead were a little too flourescent green I think, like Slimer from Ghostbusters, or "Pirates of the Caribbean".
Plus, there were a couple of cheesy scenes.
But aside from that... wow. Wow. I'll say it again. Wow.
For me personally, two of the best scenese were Aragorn's journey into the mountains to summon the Army of the Dead, and of course, the big, crucial, climactic, orgasmic moment of the LOTR trilogy: the arrival at the cracks of Mt. Doom, the moment of the ring's final destruction (which is the point of the whole trilogy, right?).
Long have I been waiting to see how Jackson would handle such an intense scene... Frodo's emotional struggle, Gollum and Frodo's final confrontation, the ring's destruction. All I can say about the scene is: it's everything I ever imagined it to be, and more.
For one, Jackson offers us a glimpse of the ring's actual destruction, showing it floating on a pool of molten lava, showing the writing glow for one last time, before the ring dissipates, turns to liquid swiftly and all at once. Tolkien on the other hand ends the chapter with Gollum falling into the Cracks of Doom. Jackson actually offered a richer experience of the scene.
I could go on and on forever, but I would take up too much time comparing the book with the movie, and I'd start sounding like a geek too.
Watch it! Watch it!
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Tuesday, December 16, 2003
Vinyl Memories
This week is going to be hellish. I have 3 long tests, I have work, I have a birthday celebration, a rehearsal, a reunion, a Return of the King premiere, a magazine article deadline, and a pictorial for my bedroom which is going to be featured in the February article of Pink Magazine.
The pictorial is tomorrow so I rushed to clean and finish decorating my room today. There still so much I want to do to it but there's no time. My room won't be as nice as I want it to be for the magazine. Oh well.
I dug up my parents' old vinyl records today and hung them all over my room. I love old records. I love the album art, I love the retro way they look, I love how they're so prettily wrapped in onion-skin paper and inserted neatly in the jacket. Most of all, I love the look on my parents' face when they hold an old vinyl in their hands. It's a look of nostalgia, sentimentality, and the breathless look of a disarming flood of old memories. It reminds me of that scene in "Amelie" where the old man finds his old cigar-box time capsule in a phone booth. "Oh my god!", my mother exclaimed. "I haven't seen in this in so long! My old boyfriend gave me this Don Mclean record".
I've been meaning to dig up the old turn-table, buy a new needle for it, and bring their old vinyls to life. But I haven't had time. For now, I'm using the old records for decoration. The cardboard casing is so old, it's about ready to turn to dust in my hands. I have original records of Joni Mitchell, Donal Fagen, Billy Joel, Beatles, Stevie Wonder, Ravi Shankar, Frank Zappa, the Doobie Brothers, etc. All the old stuff that fascinates me.
Cebu!
I went to Cebu City for the first time overnight last weekend to host the Penshoppe Dance Slam with Khalil, Vince, and Cogie D. Cebu is a nice place. I wish I could've stayed longer.
We were booked by Ace Saatchi at "The Waterfront". I was pleasantly surprised. It was a nice hotel with nice pillows! (good pillows are very important).
I was there in a Sunday night and there was no place to go, but Khalil insisted we go out. We went to about 5 places and all of them turned out to be either closed, or of "questionable repute". From the outside at least. None of us knew our way around.
After making a quick stop by "Sunflower City" (eeek!), we ended up at "Yo Latino!". I've never liked enclosed smoking areas. I can't stand cigarette smoke. Ended up outside watching the show band while everyone else stayed inside.
Cebu seems a nice place. I always heard rumors that Cebuanos look down on Manila people hehe. I didn't feel it at all while I was there though so I don't know if its true.
Anniv!
Is the concept of "The Monthsary" important in a relationship? When were younger (and in more immature relationships), the monthsary was usually marked like this:
Boy: Will you be my girlfriend?
Girl: Okay.
Boy: Wow, so ngayon ang anniv natin?
I don't know if it happened the same way for everyone else but that's how it used to be. When I was smack in the middle of my teenager years, I'd make all these little cards or story books or whatever when it was the date of The Monthsary.
Anyway, I'm not one of those people who are bent on making a big deal out of it every single month. Or at least I thought I wasn't.
My boyfriend and I are one of those couples that don't know what was that crucial moment in time, that point of no return, that sealed our couple-dom. We don't know when we actually started being together. So when people used to ask us how long its been, we never knew what to say. It worked fine at first, not knowing when. I didn't have to worry about preparing some little surprise or whatever each month. It was nice and low-maintenance. Walang sama ng loob, no hearts being broken when one forgets.
Then I started getting antsy and less secure. Hadn't it been quite some time already? Plus in Theology class, we were learning that ritual is important in providing a sense a commitment.
So I demanded a monthsary date. Just the date. Just so we'd have one. This was about two weeks ago.
The other day we implemented it for the first time. It was our official 9th month, but our first official monthsary. Nothing happened. He almost forgot, too. Parang pareho lang.
But at least now I can answer straight when people ask how long we've been together. Plus, there's the one year celebration to look forward to (eeeeeeh!). Hanep!
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Friday, December 12, 2003
Change comes into your life, creeping in quietly on tiny cat feet, unnoticed, before it pounces on you.
Then everything changes.
I am floating, facing the sky, on a vast ocean. The sea cups me in its hands, and carries me to where the tide commands it to.
I Am the Grinch Right Now
My computer is up and running again and I realized yesterday, much to my horror, that I no longer have MS-Word. A computer without MS-Word is a retarded one. How am I supposed to type papers? Argh.
The only good thing that's happened withing the past few days is that I got the Back to the Future Trilogy DVD box-set, and that I get to eat yummy Chinese food every night (thanks to my tito whose been sending stacks of styrofoam containers filled with it).
I don't have any Christmas gifts for anyone and I don't feel like getting anyone anything (although I'll probably dash out of the house at the last minute and buy little objects just to have something to give).
Christmas is coming at the wrong time. Noone here is in the mood for it.
I am suddenly horrified at the realization of just how many people read this blog. I mean, it is a public document but there are about 2 million other blogs out there that nobody pays attention to as much as this one.
I'm scared I'm going to have to one day own up to everything I write down and release on the web. Its such a terrifying thought that I'm actually tempted to stop writing.
Hours later...
Here I am being a loser and spending Friday night at home, alone. If I were really desperate I could go to Beckhams because Trina and Sib are probably there getting their asses drunk. But I've been in this loner, un-talkative mood the whole day. And here I am, on a Friday night, broadcasting to the entire inter-net universe that I have no life.
Its a welcome break actually, having no life. I think I suffer from having too much of a life. Too much excitement, too many things to deal with, too many things happening.
I envy people who lose their cel-phones and who don't have people breathing down their necks every second. As Pia says, a cel-phone is like an infant, always whining, and demanding, and commanding. It stresses me out, and yet, its an addiction.
I want school to end, and I want to spend the rest of my December nights listening to soft Christmas music in my living room, in flannel pajama pants, drinking hot chocolate.
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Monday, December 08, 2003
I've begun the heart-breaking process of backing up my files today. Heart-breaking because I know that the reason why I'm doing it is because within the next two days, all my iBook data is going to be obliterated into nothingness, and the computer totally reformatted. All thanks to the mystery virus. I'm going to have to start over from scratch. Plus, I won't have a computer for a couple of days. I'm already beginning to feel the separation anxiety. I also dread the thought of having to suffer with the family PC, that slow, old, horrid machine that needs TWO buttons on the mouse instead of one to operate.
Aaah, I remember when I used to be a PC user. Oooh, do I feel the Mac-user-snobbishness beginning to rub off on me? Oh dear. Oh well, it happens.
In the other room, my little brother is blasting "Katawan". He has discovered Hagibis. Its all he's been playing. There's something oddly delightful about it. Speaking of old music, I heard that The Village People and ABBA will be having a Valentine's concert here in Ateneo. Now that is a grand thing. I would pay to watch and do the YMCA, and dance to "Dancing Queen".
Last night, I went biking through the hidden trails of Ateneo with Nino and Mio, my little brother. That's the most exercise I've gotten in a month. It was fun but my butt feels like I went riding on a galloping horse the whole night.
Today I had a "Day of Prayer" that our Theology teacher, Ms. Parco, required us to go to (or else we don't graduate). It actually turned out to be worthwhile. Got some alone time to think about the real important things, something that I don't get to do much because I realize that my head is in a whirl most of the time.
I actually really admire my Theology teacher. She's the head of the Theology department and a devout Catholic, not someone I would usually share any common ground with (not that I'm a total heathen, but I don't enjoy preachy religion classes most of the time). Then again, I'm not exactly the most Catholic person I know either. I was raised by my "new-age", Zen-following parents. I got sick of all the religious quack-quack-quack from growing up in all all-girls Catholic school and being preached to by Theology teachers who make me memorize the stand of the Vatican on bleaching your hair blonde or whatever issue it is. I can't say I've been a good Catholic the past four years.
But along comes Miss Parco who seems to make sense. I've never known anyone so dedicated to loving God. I've been trying to search for God outside of organized religion because I always just ended up confused once they brought Jesus and the 12 Encyclicals (hahaha) into the picture, and here comes someone who so devotedly follows the Christian faith and yet doesn't seem blind or brainwashed. To her, believing is not even a question, its a given. There is a firm, yet humble sense of purpose in everything she does. I've always felt that religion teachers try to brainwash me, but this time, I actually want to hear what my religion teacher has to say.
I've heard some former students say that she tell them that she's married to God. I want to know why she is the way she is, why she chose to be who she is.
She's a forty-something woman who wears different variations of the same outfit everyday (same black slacks, black vest, black socks, black clip, but changes her shirt). She's strict, and stern, and considered one of the "nightmare teachers". Not exactly the ideal image of someone you'd like to end up like at 40. And yet, I feel as if there is so much to learn from this woman.
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Saturday, December 06, 2003
Much has happened the past 48 hours. I've been prone to sudden bouts of silent anger, mostly due to suspense. The homeostasis of my life, the balance I have worked to establish, has been threatening to come crashing down. In other words, changes are a-coming. I honestly do not know what life will be like come the end of 2002. I can't think of any part of my life that is stable at this moment, except school (how ironic). Things are suddenly all going beyond my control. There are many things waiting to be revealed to me.
To name the more superficial things, my iBook has picked up some kind of virus that seams to gobble up programs, making them disappear from the face of my hard drive. I have lost my Photoshop 7.0, my Adobe Indesign, my Adobe Acrobat, my iMovie, and probably my Dreamweaver as well. They are nowhere to be found. This means I may have to reformat, which is a kind of heartbreak to the computer-owner who has had his/her system up and running for awhile. It also means you're going to have to back up your files. What a hassle. Haaay. To think I used to shun technology, and the most hightech I used to get (besides internet) was my battery-operated toothbrush.
The other day, I got mad at my sis, left for MYX taping in a sour mood, got to the salon with a head-ache. Somehow, the MYX people forgot to pick me up from the salon which resulted in a forty minute wait. When I finally got to the studio, raring for a moment of solace in my dressing room before going on-camera, I found that my dressing room had been taken over by a dozen squealing, giggling women: The Viva Hot Babes (along with a throng of other people...entourage and other guests).
As I said earlier, I was in really, really bad mood. Certainly not in the mood to be in a crowded environment, certainly not in the mood to share my dressing room with anyone else. I ended up getting the boy's dressing room which I hate because the light bulbs that frame the mirror (and make you feel like a movie star) don't work. But work is work. I had to put on a happy face and interview all of them.
They were all really nice, endearing, and very dignified ladies. What surprised me was that they answered the questions very seriously, almost dead-seriously. I was trying to be silly but I guess they weren't too comfortable with silly. They were promoting their new album and single "Bulaklak". My bad mood alleviated in awhile.
I saw them again at MYX MO the next day!
Of urine and Pepe Smith
Luneta was overflowing with a massive crowd of about 80,000 (according to Nino's estimation), like one large, living, breathing organism. At the beginning of the night, I cursed Lucky and Heart for not being able to make it and leaving me to host alone.
I soon found out however, that I would be hosting with a variety of people, namely Francis M. (tito Francis! hehe), Shannen Torres (ex-MTV veejay), Tado of "MTB"/"Strangebrew", and of course, the new batch of MYX VJs. Since they were already unveiled during the concert, I suppose it's okay to introduce them here.
They are Karel Marquez, pretty girl from Ponds and Berks; Mark, a Fil-Norwegian model who has been in the Philippines for less than three months; and Sally, an Ateneo graduate/commercial model/host. I've only just met them so I can't say very much but they're very nice and have alot of potential. Good choices.
I had my usual case of the nerves at the beginning of the night (I get very nervous when I know I'm hosting live audiences) so I availed of the free Colt 45 they were giving us back stage. Got tipsy, and ended up in the dressing room with Ebe of Sugarfree, telling him my woes. He was kind enough to get me a glass of water (I think he felt sorry for me hehe).
I hosted a few segments with Tado which means I got to chat with him backstage. Ang bait-bait niya, and the crowd loved him. Whenever he'd get on stage, it didn't matter who was standing with him. The crowd would begin to chant "Tado, Tado..." while doing the "rock" hand sign.
It was after the first quarter of the night when things began to get ugly. Heaven knows how we had somehow managed to attract the "Pulp Summer Slam" crowd. They murderously demanded for "Keso" (as in the band, Cheese) the entire night. These people wanted metal, and they were ready to shed blood to get it. Sadly we didn't book any of the "heavies", no Cheese, no Greyhoundz, not even Kamikazee. The heaviest band we had was Sandwich. The rest of our acts were either hip-hop or OPM (Sara Geronimo, Arnee, Jimmy Bondoc).
Bombs began to rain on the stage: water bottles, shoes, coke cans... not even Sara Geronimo, sweet little thing, was spared. The hip-hop artists had it the worst. The crowd kept giving them "the finger", in one massive cry of "p*tangina niyo!", alternating with chants of "Keso, Keso, Keso...!"
And then it happened.
A water bottle hit the stage, missing us, but sprinkling me and Tado with a spray of unusually warm water. It was later on, when the stage was being bombarded by other such water vessels, that Tado told me the awful truth:"Ihi ang pinangbabato nila".
And soon after he said it, a urine-filled bottled hit the stage, splashing some of its' contents on my hair, my arm, my hand, my leg, my clothes... I couldn't believe it. The warm, frothy, yellowish liquid inside the bottles being thrown was really pee!
Tado saw my look of disgust/disbelief and chivalrously wiped the stuff off my arm with his T-shirt (what a gentleman).
By the middle of the night, gusto ko nang murahin yung crowd. They were so rude, throwing weewee-filled bottles at artists, and pulling their pants down to show their butts. The stage stank too.
Nino followed late from a gig. When I saw him backstage, I told him I was covered with pee. He said it was okay with him, and hugged me. Hinalikan pa ako sa ulo. Do I have a good man or what?
The night closed with a number by Sandwich, Urbandub, Pepe Smith, and Sampaguita. Sampaguita was a regal, dignified matron who still knew how to rock. Pepe Smith was being weird, and addled, and hopping around the stage like Jack in "Nightmare Before Christmas" before finally snatching a guitar from one of the Sandwich guys, and playing a couple of licks.
I got a picture with them both. Nino even took a video of me and Pepe Smith having a really pointless, incoherent conversation on the Sony DVcam.
At the end of the night, I found that my camera bag had been taken from my dressing room. A total, major downer for an adrenaline pumping night.
KYTHE
So I woke up this morning, still angry, irritable, and depressed from the other day (and tired too). Went to mass. Then mustered up my strength to go over to Ateneo and present myself to host for the Kythe Christmas party. Kythe is my org in Ateneo. We take care of children with cancer.
I was depressed, and pissed off, and I wanted to stay home to sulk and sleep, but I knew my calling for the day was to be there and make those little kids happy. I took a few minutes off to take deep breaths, ask God for strength, and calm myself down before hitching a trike to Moro Lorenzo Sports Center.
It turned out to be a good day. None of the original hosts showed up so I ended up hosting the whole thing, and I even found that I wanted to do a good job. So much for my initial unwillingness to host. It was a good day with all the little kids jumping on me and climbing all over me on the inflatable castle.
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Wednesday, December 03, 2003
True friends stab you in the front
Don't you just hate it when you find out someone's been backstabbing you? Especially if its someone you once trusted quite alot? Especially if everything he/she says about you are all absolute lies?
This person (whom we shall address as "X") I refer to is like a tumor that grows more malignant with age unless you cut X away from you, and undergo emotional chemo-therapy. Even then, X can still reapear a little later on, like cancer and you have to go through more emotional chemotherapy.
I am a peaceful person and one of my friends once told me that I'm the most non-judgmental persons she knows, and that there is not a drop of hate in me (unless provoked).
But X is another matter. X is a vexation to my spirit. X is the one person who can really ignite my anger, the kind of anger that makes you want to do reckless, nasty, hateful things.
I'm a sappy idealist, and I try to be a good person, and everyday I try to be more patient, compassionate, and loving. Everyday I try to see how I can act less selfishly. X however tempts me to be just the opposite. X turns me into someone I don't like.
And yet (and that's a BIG "and yet"), at the end of the day, though I am writhing in anger and frustration inside, I do not hate X. Because X is my greatest teacher. X is my toughest course to hack in my journey to becoming a better person. X is in fact, my ultimate human reminder that I have to continually strive to be more compassionate, more forgiving, more understanding, more loving.
It is my challenge to see goodness, and beauty where others have given up looking, because I know it must be there. I am certain it is there.
It would be conceited to say that X was expressly sent to me by God for the sole purpose of teaching me a lesson. Certainly X has perfectly valid reasons for why X is the way X is, reasons I may never understand. But I find that X has taught me much of my greatest lessons, has challenged my capacity to expand... to accept all the irritating, or hurtful things that on a deeper level, teach me to shed the self-importance and egocentricity I foster in myself.
And when I find I don't seem to have the capacity in me to forgive, then I know that the right thing to do is to still to forgive, and to wish X the best. It involves swallowing alot of very bitter-tasting pride, but I try...and try, and try. I do it silently, and nobody has to know, but in my heart, it is there.
My anger and hate is momentary, a natural, human reaction, but my ultimate choice is still forgiveness. And to forgive is to love, both yourself and others. And to love unconditionally is to love all. Even FPJ.
And if X reads this and decides to fill up my comments box with nasty messages, I don't even care. (okay, that last line was petty, but like I said, I try...and try, and try again)
And now that my little catharsis is over...
Punta kayongMYX MO!
Maraming banda't artista!
Luneta Park Kite Area, Dec. 5
Free Entrance! Don't bring bags or sharp objects coz they're gonna confiscate it.
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Monday, December 01, 2003
Alot has been happening the past few days but there's not much to say about it because I've been feeling terrible. I'm sitting here with a monstrous head cold, meaning: I've been weak, chilly, congested, snotty, and my head feels as heavy as a brick. I had been feeling sick even before I left for my overnight Davao trip last weekened.
Khalil Kaimo and I were sent there by Penshoppe to host the "Penshoppe Dance Slam" contest. I've been to Davao about ten times. I used to spend summer with my relatives there when I was a kid. Its my first time to go there for business though.
I had the most uncomfortable stay. They gave me my own room at the Royal Mandaya, a hotel with retarded air-conditioning, bad service, bad food, and the worst pillows I've ever slept on. The pillows were so bad that I could'nt sleep and I was up in the middle of the night thinking of possible alternatives to pillows (i.e. "If I fold up the towels in the bathroom, they could be used as pillows!").
The bathroom didn't have any toothpaste so I called housekeeping 5 times (they finally answered after 15 minutes), and asked for some. It took them 30 minutes to bring it up. I felt awful the whole trip. Thank God they sent me home early, right after the Dance Slam. I honestly dreaded spending another night in that room with the air-con that wouldn't get cold.
Nino picked me up from the new NAIA and we went home and had some left-over turkey and steak from the family Thanksgiving lunch I missed (none of us are American but we decided to celebrate Thanksgiving... its always good to give thanks. I'm thankful for alot of things...).
This must be my umpteenth Razorback fandom entry
I read in the newspaper today that Kevin Roy won the "Vocalist of the Year" award. In my drunken daze at the NU Rock Awards, I somehow missed the moment. Sayang. Then I could've said something witty when he came up to where me and Nino were ... something like, "Ey, congrats". MWAHAHAHA! Yeah...something real witty like that. Oooh.
My friend Manny who went to highschool with Kevin Roy in Xavier texted me to say he bumped into him the other day (totally irrelevant, I know).
I also got a copy of Brain Salad wherein Kevin Roy lends his vocals to one track, Mula Sa Langit. It's quite nice, but he always sounds his best when he's angsty.
How I turned into such an adoring fan, I do not know. Less than a year ago I wouldn't have gone out of my way for a Razorback gig. Now I write all these gushy blog entries on them. Eek.
If I wasn't Nino's girlfriend I could set myself free and act like a breathless fan. Unfortunately, their being good friends with my boyfriend forces me to maintain an air of semi-detached composure mwehehehe!!!
I love their song "Dagat ng Pag-asa". The other day I listened to it four times in a row, paying attention to different elements each time I played it over. It elevates me. I'm not a musician, and I am shy when it comes to talking about how music is made, but I love how the guitars, the bass, and the drums dance with each other, intertwine, make love with each other. I love how the tension mounts, painfully, furiously, and then breaks, like an ocean wave. Its poetry. Its a highly emotional piece. And on the I-pod, you hear Kevin Roy whispering in the background (something you don't hear on the stereo).
Enough, enough. I don't know what I'm talking about. I don't make music, I just listen.
"The Bug"
Okay, if the template problem persists, I'm going to change the look of this whole thing. Maybe in a few days. Bad trip. I like this template.
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