Friday, January 30, 2004
my Philo teacher
I'm so tired, jittery about the play, and ten times more jittery about my Tagalog Philosophy oral exams tomorrow. Just thinking about it makes me want to catch a major but curable illness so I can be excused from taking it, something like appendicitis or tonsilitis.
It's not that I don't understand the lesson. I get it all perfectly, just don't make me explain it in Tagalog! I have the Tagalog of a 3rd grader. My Tagalog doesn't flow. It comes out haltingy in little spurts, it requires intense concentration, and even then, it comes out really twisted and weird. Words of wisdom turn to sophomoric, malabo xerox copies of what you originally wanted to say.
I got an F in my last graded recitation and I wanted to die.
After two frustrating semesters of Tagalog Philo in junior year, I vowed never to take it again. I got an English philosophy the next sem which was a load off my shoulders. Never mind that it was at 7:30 AM and we weren't allowed by the teacher to use the bathroom. Basta English!. But this time, for my last semester of college, I got unlucky with the random numbering registration system and ended up with a Tagalog Philo again.
My brain clouds over when my teacher, Mike Mariano, calls me in class. I cannot seem to answer even though I know I knew the right answer just a few seconds ago.
All his students, past and recent, are familiar with his ways: "mahilig manggago". He does it all in good humor, of course. He'll say things to confuse you, and lead you away from the topic just to see if you'll really follow suite. Also ,when he calls you, he says your name really quickly and loudly and without warning so that you'll really jump out of your seat.
It's funny and all, but it's added stress for me. I dread going to class every MWF. Haaaaay! I've felt this before. Woe is me!
Sir, kung binabasa mo toh, go easy on me hehehe.
I also found out that he's cousins with my old OPM MYX writer Paul Sta. Ana. Hehe, hi Paul!
speaking of the MYX people
It was really nice seeing them today. They dropped by Footloose rehearsals at RCBC Plaza to film us rehearsing, hence, giving us free promotion for our show. If there was one thing I loved about working in MYX, it was the staff. I loved all of them and formed relationships with them. They are wonderful people (and I know they're reading this hehehe) and we all got used to working together. It was pretty hard to leave them when it was time to go.
I was interviewed by VJ Salie about the play, hahaha! It was a little surreal. Never thought the tables would be turned one day, and I'd be the one being interviewed on MYX. It's pretty nice to be the interviewee for once, and not being the one who has to work, and project, and be perky. Not that I didn't enjoy it all before of course. By reflex, I almost introduced myself as "VJ Ala". It's a permanent constituent of my verbal memory when I'm in front of a camera.
And as events have turned out, I am currently interning under MCA Universal as a kind of OJT/practicum. I work for the frontline artists manager. Part of my job while I'm under him is to deliver DVDs of new music videos to MYX and MTV, and to negotiate with MYX. From VJ to video delivery woman. Hilarious.
I don't think anyone over at MYX is going to take me seriously when the time comes for me to "negotiate" with them.
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Tuesday, January 27, 2004
Wanderlust
According to this map, I've only seen 4% of the world. That's 12 countries. And come to think of it, it's even less than 4% considering I only tour cities or provinces when I travel, never the whole country!
I consider myself pretty well-traveled for someone my age. I'm not the kind of person who needs alot of urging to get packing and hop on the next plane, passport in hand. I will go on any trip so long as time and money will allow. I first rode on a plane when I was less than a year old, when my mother brought me home from the US, and since then, I've been afflicted with wanderlust- the desire to travel.
Some brief travel tales:
USA:We all know that 90% of Filipino travel-virgins lose their virginities to the US (okay, so I invented that statistic but it's probably true anyway). In my case, I was born in Pasadena, which makes me the only person in my family with a blue passport. It comes in handy when I'm traveling but it used to be a b*tch coming home and getting alot of hassle from Philippine Immigration; until I finally secured for myself a certificate stating that I am Filipino.
Since then I've seen Oxnard, San Francisco, San Diego, New Jersey, New York, D.C., and Maryland. I don't really have a favorite place there. The US is the US.
Malaysia: The first time I traveled to another country besides the USA, I went to Malaysia to watch my sister compete with the Philippine Gymnastics Team in the SEA Games XV. I was very young so all I remember is that all the women wore veils and a giant mosque near our hotel. Also, our hotel room had a sticker of a red arrow on the wall, supposedly pointing towards Mecca. At that age, it didn't occur to me that I was in an Islamic country despite all of this. Also, a motorcycle almost ran over me while I was there.
Indonesia: I've seen Jakarta, which was uneventful, and Bali. I am almost positive that I've seen everything there is to see in Bali, Indonesia. I've been to beaches, and hotels, and spas, and temples, and artisan workplaces, and resorts, and downtown, and uptown... multiply that by four since I've been to Bali four times. It's a very pretty place with lots of cute Australian surfers, but I don't care to return to it for the next 5 years or so. Also, their beaches do not compare to Palawan and Boracay.
One of my Bali highlights is my tito's Bali wedding back in 1995. I was a bridesmaid and it just so happened that I was also stricken with one of the worst strains of sore eyes ever to exist on this planet. Hence, memories of my first experience of Bali is literally a blur, as seen through watery eyes. It was living hell.
Singapore: I wouldn't mind if I had to go to Singapore every year. It's clean, pristine, modern, 1st world, extremely metropolitan, and there's nothing to do but shop. What more can one ask for? It's countries like S'pore that make me wish we had been colonized by the British instead of Spain. then we would have nice cobblestone streets and cool clothes. I've been there about four times. I also love going on Night Safari at the Singapore Zoo! Lions and tigers and bears!
Cambodia: Angkor, Cambodia is one of the most beautiful places on earth. I spent a few days there and I was breathless with wonder every second of it. All the dreams you had as child of being Indiana Jones exploring ancient temples come alive in Angkor. It will take a lifetime to fully explore every collosal, ancient structure they unearthed out of the Cambodian jungle, to appreciate every intricate carving on the ancient stone. You imagine the spirits of an ancient civilization following you, whispering in the echo of your footsteps. It is one of the most poetic places on earth, and reminds you that the world is full of mysterious and beautiful things.
Thailand: It was in Bangkok where I had the greatest Thai dinner of my entire life. I love MBK (shopping galore), and shopping in little flea markets. Oh, and that Grand Palace was really something too.
Hong Kong: Nobody ever wants to stay in Hong Kong for more than 3 days. No, it's not that I have anything against Hong Kong. It's just that on day number 3, chances are, all your money will have been spent. And if you don't like to shop, then there's nothing for you in Hong Kong. Hong Kong teenagers have the greatest fashion sense, and the funkiest haircuts, much to my envy. I feel like a wet rag when I'm there.
England: England will always have the most special place in my heart among all the countries I've seen. I spent a month studying theater at Oxford with my best friend Jenn, with hundreds of other teenagers from all over the world.
I was 16, and alone in Europe with my bestfriend, my suitcase, my passport, and a wad of dollars in a wrinkled envelope to sustain me for my whole stay. And we were in Oxford, a place where the medieval blends inextricably with the new. Much of the architecture is old and historic, looking as magnificent and royal as the kings and queens who saw these structures being built. You can go walking down the street, turn a corner, and stumble upon an old castle. Parts of "Harry Potter" and "Elizabeth" were filmed in Oxford.
While there, I played the lead in a Shakespeare play and made awesome new friends.
I remember coming home and feeling that I wasn't the same person I was when I disembarked.
France: Straight from England, we jet-setted to Paris, me, my bestfriend, and a small handful of the Oxford kids. We spent a week zooming through art museums (The Louvre, Rodin, etc.), visiting gorgeous, ostentatious cathedrals (Chartes and Notre Dame), and strolling through Versailles. I stayed on the 5th floor of a dormitory with my best friend and at night, we would sit on a ledge below our window and get a perfect view of the Eiffel Tower, and the Paris skyline. We would get four hours of sleep a night, hanging out with friends on that ledge, watching airplanes go by.
Australia: I stayed there for 9 days and ate steak everyday. I came back 7 lbs heavier. I saw beaches (Bondi and Manley), Blue Mountain, and alot of Sydney and it was all very nice but it was winter and I tend to languish in any weather colder than Baguio. I HATE winter. Must see Aussy again when the season is right.
Canada:Vancouver is a pretty nice place, and I saw snow capped mountains for the first time from the backyard of the house we were staying in. It reminded me a little of Middle Earth. Canadians are nice people :-) But it was too damn cold.
***create your own visited country map
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Friday, January 23, 2004
Brand new domain, folks!
Gracias, gracias to "Ate Sienna", my new landlady on the web who I am yet to meet face to face. Thanks for the webspace. You rock! :-)
Shameless Plugging
Okay, here goes. I'm part of Blue Repertory's production of Footloose. It's just a cameo role but I do get to sing one whole song and I get to dance too (quite unwillingly I might add. They tricked me).
I play Irene, who is originally a cowgirl singer in the movie but we decided to make her a popstar a la' Brittney in this version (to rid the play of disgustingly cheesy country music). For those of you who have never seen Footloose, it's an 80's dance movie, starring Kevin Bacon, with lotsa Rock n' Roll, 80's fashion and funfunfun! So watchwatchwatch!
My friend Macky Santiago plays the lead role and he is AWESOME. Anyway, here are the details.
Some more shameless plugging: I perform only on the 7th, and possibly the 31st. Hahaha! See ya there.
Froglady
So I've been practicing for the play, which means I've started singing again. It's scary because I'm surrounded by all these ultra-talented, trained, theater singers. I've loved singing ever since I was a kid but I didn't "come out" until the tail end of highschool because I didn't think I could sing.
All the women in my family were born with low, gravelly, eternally raspy speaking voices. It's been a blessing and a curse. For one, people sometimes think I am a man on the phone. On the other hand, I can do this great, sultry-older-woman, sexy, phone-operator voice. (Come to think of it, the manly voice has been able to help me to dispell stalkers and nasty prank callers in the past, so I shouldn't complain about it).
Yes, we are the frog-women, born with frogs in our throats. Naturally, nobody thought any of us Paredes kids would know how to sing. I somehow discovered I could when I was thirteen, while cleaning out my best friend's cassette tape collection. I was singing out all the songs that were written on the labels. Then I took theater, did a musical play, and thus affirmed that I could sing.
I still get incredibly shy though... it's not easy being the frog lady amidst all the other girls who were born with voices that sound like the tinkling of two crystal glasses (Ah, well). I'm a closet singer, and so I usually limit myself to hogging the mic at karaoke bars and plugging in my Magic Sing. It's only during rare bouts of insanity that I get the guts to volunteer perform in public. And yet, somehow I can never say no when people ask.
But what the heck. I must do this. I'm fullfilling a promise I made to myself, and to my grandmother on her deathbed.
I had a nice day
Today I taught my friend, thesis-partner, and fellow Kevin Roy lover Charlene how to ride a bicycle. It's my good deed for the day. Within thirty minutes she was zooming around SEC. I taught her to balance on a bike! Now if only she would start learning how to control the bike and stop crashing into walls, and pillars, and people.
I hung out with Nino-ling in school today. We were reading my LOTR "Return of the King Visual Companion" which I got for Christmas (I realized today that I hold extensive conversations about LOTR with various people everyday... my journey into geekdom). I've decided that I want to be the Witch-king of Angmar for Halloween. I've got this thing for them Nazgul.
I think some guys should get together to form a thrash metal band called The Nazgul. They'd all dress in cloaks and armor, and the vocals will be high-pitched, tormented shrieking. Man, sometimes I wish I had been born a guy so I can fullfill all my rockstar fantasies.
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Monday, January 19, 2004
talking randomly about music
I'm here listening to Cindy Lauper's latest album, "At Last", courtesy of my teacher, JV Colayco of Sony Music. It's a revival album, no original songs. But the woman sure can sing. Really.
She was already quite a singer during her "Girls Wanna Have Fun Days" but I think her skill was masked by the kinds of songs she was singing. This album proves it all. She's got real talent.
But lately, Led Zeppelin is what dominates my stereo. I didn't like them growing up, hated them even. Now I find they satisfy a certain craving I've been having, the sound of grating vocals and guitars. I've spent my entire senior year of college trying to fill this craving, which is weird because during junior year, I played nothing but Norah Jones.
When I'm not playing Led Zeppelin, I'm playing "The Darkness. Oh my god, these guys are unbelievable.
If you like to take yourself seriously at all times, and are concerned with maintaining a reputation of having good and refined musical taste, you will absolutely loathe The Darkness. It takes a good sense of humor, a penchant for spandex and shimmery eye-shadow, and a familiarity with the 80s to appreciate what these guys are trying to get at. You've probably heard their single "I Believe in a Thing Called Love" on the airwaves.
Lead singer Justin Hawkins's falsetto, combined with deliberately cheesy lyrics, and song titles; plus glam-era inspired guitarwork, all tied together with a killer band name (The Darkness! Ooooooooh). You just gotta love these guys.
As bassist Frankie Poullain says, "Everyone's too uptight these days. I hate the arrogance of bands who think their petty emotions are interesting. If you look at bands from 25 years ago, people had smiles on their faces. Wer'e bringing a little of that back."
That just about says it all.
My favorite cut from the album is "Get Your Hands Off My Woman" (love that title).
Buzzed About
I came out on "The Buzz" the other day. I've never been on "The Buzz" before.
Despite my "throw-caution-to-the-wind" attitude in my last entry, this whole intriga thing is not as fun as I thought it would be. At first I didn't consider it a big deal if the media wanted to cook up some petty rumor just to have something to buzz about on "The Buzz". I laughed it off when people started texting in, asking if it was all true. Yes, it was all good fun...until it started affecting certain people. It's all been just a joke to me, but the rumor has caused a considerable amount of strain on certain parties, and now I find that I have to explain myself to some very confused people.
I can't believe I even have problems like this!!! :-p I mean, come on!
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Friday, January 16, 2004
Lovapalooza-Kiss 4 The Record!
It's been an interesting week for me.
I was part of a press-con (something I've never done before) with my ex-co-veejay, Lucky Manzano. Together he and I form one of the four Close-up couples for their upcoming Valentine's campaign, Lovapalooza. It's a free party on the night of February 13 at the Roxas Bay Walk, wherein 5,000 couples will kiss simultaneously, for at least ten seconds, to break the Guiness Book world record for mass-kissing, last set by Chile a few years back. Anyone is welcome to participate. Help the Philippines get on the Guiness Book of World Records, be one of the 5,000. It's a brilliant idea!...getting 5,000 people to kiss in public.
Lucky and I are one of four couples who are "faces" of the campaign.
So there we were on a sofa, surrounded by cameras and reporters, being asked questions about this new Close-up campaign. Lucky delivered glowing answers, flawlessly and unflinchingly (it is obvious he does this sort of thing all the time). I just kind of babbled and said dumb things whenever the mic was handed over to me. I found I was rather tongue-tied... highly unusual. Before we got off the stage, the couples were made to kiss each other... on the cheek.
So anyway, the next thing I know, a day later I'm on TV Patrol giggling beside Lucky Manzano, as the report said something involving Ala, Lucky, and kissing, apparently making no mention of Close-up. I didn't actually see the news report, but I got 3 texts asking if Nino and I were still cool, because they just saw a newflash involving me, Lucky, and kissing.
Naturally, rather than worry about the confusion the report might cause (not to mention the media's habit of ommiting certain details), I was, instead, absolutely thrilled to find out I had been on TV Patrol! I've always wanted to make the news. Never mind if it's about me, Lucky, and kissing. I made the news! They said my name! Yahoo! Attention rocks hehehe.
I've always wanted to be headlined, or blind-itemed, or even tabloided, so long as it's for a non-scandalous reason (I'm not talking about any Kris-Joey dramas here, and no, no porn or nudity). Why? Because I love seeing how the media can set an agenda. I love how they can broadcast or publish something superficial and have it become part of millions of people's everyday mental existence (oops, it's the Communications major in me coming out).
You can come out on TV, say something absolutely insignificant, and people will talk about it and react... just because it came out on TV.
My ultimate dream is to be romantically linked to someone famous (falsely of course), be seen in clubs and moviehouses together, be blind-itemed in Ricky Lo's column, have people discuss whether they approve of our relationship or not in PinoyExchange.com, and finally, be asked to come out on "The Buzz", or "Startalk", to dramatically deliver the classic, enduring words: "We're just friends".
And afterwards, I shall watch the crowd scoff and protest at my answer, as I give one last innocent smile at the camera. Aaaah...
Attention in the wrong places
Attracting attention wherever you go is an inevitable consequence of apearing on TV repeatedly. You'll get stared at and approached in department stores, bathrooms, parks, etc. However, there are some places wherein you feel it's best not to attract any attention at all, like strip clubs (not that I’ve ever been to one), motels (another place I’ve never been to either), and of course, pregnancy clinics.
I took my older sister, who is 5 months pregnant, for a checkup the other day. It was just the two of us. I'm much taller than my sister, and a familiar face to some, and hence, I attract more attention. When we entered the clinic, doctors and nurses immediately started staring. A nurse approached us and said, "Paredes, maam?". "Yes", I said. (note that she asked me, and not my sister). Another nurse went up to me, and started talking to me, "Diba ikaw si Ala?". "Yup".
My sister excused herself to go to the bathroom, leaving me alone. It soon became clear to me that the nurses thought it was my appointment. Never mind that there was another woman with me with a bulging belly. It was I whom they thought was pregnant.
Finally I had to casually verify that it was my sister who was there for the appointment and not me, to which they reacted with an "Aaaaah".
The same thing happened to me in Gingersnaps when I was buying my sister some maternity clothes. I guess a woman's natural inclination when picking out clothes is to hold the item against her body while staring at a mirror, which is what I did. It was soon obvious that the store ladies thought I was shopping for myself.
My sister sure owes me for all this.
Neverthless, I am excited to see my soon-to-be inaanak, to be born in four months. I miss being around babies. We haven't had one in this house since my little brother was born (and he's not very little anymore). I'm also the official baby shower planner.
I'm betting it's a girl.
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Sunday, January 11, 2004
I know I just wrote an entry last night but...
Nanood kami ng Razorback kagabi sa 70's Bistro. Believe it or not, much as I am a swooning fan, I have never watched an entire full-length Razorback gig. I've seen them play in various places, the NU Rock Awards X, and their album launch. Last night was their rumored "last gig" before they split up (a rumor that turned out to be untrue. David Aguirre will merely be visiting the US for a couple months but he'll be back in no time). My spirit was in 70's Bistro as soon I heard about it.
My body followed soon after. I made a dash there at around 11:30 with Nino, Mio, Eric-from-Frisco, and Corinna. The place was so full, we couldn't find a place to sit and had to stand somewhere near the bar. The Razorback guys were hanging around the bar, on break. As I mentioned in about a dozen previous entries, I get extremely shy around my objects of fandom, especially since Nino made them sign all their CDs for me, wich ultimately exposes me, leaving me without a shred of dignity left.
Nino is good friends with all of them, so I wasn't surprised when Tirso Ripoll went up to him to greet him Happy New year, but I was taken pretty off guard when he looked at me and greeted me Happy New Year, too. Hahahaha! And there I was skulking around in the shadows, thinking I was well-hidden (what the hell was I thinking? I'm so tall!). But anyway...kilig. Yehey!
Kilig-moment number two came shortly after. I was whispering into Eric-from-Frisco's ear, telling him about the band he was about to see when I heard a loud (and possibly drunk) voice, very close to me from my right. I wasn't sure what he said, probably "Hello" or some version of it. So I turned around to face whoever the speaker was, and came face-to-face with...tadaa! Kevin Roy, lead singer espesyal of my favorite band. Kevin Roy the masungit, who only used to talk to me when he was looking for Nino, who ignored me on stage at the last Fete dela Musique ...talking to me.
I didn't recognize him right away so i think I just stared at him for 5 seconds with a really weird, drop-jawed, bug-eyed expression on my face. Then maybe I must've uttered "Hi" back. Ewan. He headed for the stage. Siyempre kilig after! AAAAW! (Also, I immediately thought of my thesis partner, Charlene, who shares my adoration).
So Razorback played, and played...and played, and played, till the wee hours of the morning. These guys can play from 10pm, to like 4am. Di nalo-lowbat. Also, these guys don't play by the album. An originally 4 minute song can last for 20 minutes when they play it live ("Oh, these old-school bands", as Corinna quoted). F*cking amazing. Great sound, solid performances (at ang po-pogi nilang lahat! Wahoo!). My only regret is that we missed the first set in which they played the one song I was truly waiting for, Dagat ng Pag-asa. They did however, suprise me by singing Ditty, Highway to hell, some E-heads, and a awesome performance of Wakasan. I videotaped it all.
Towards the end, when I couldn't keep my eyes open, Nino wrote on a table napkin and handed Kevin a request for Munting Paraiso, supposedly dedicated to me. Unfortunately, right when they were about to play it, Brian the drummer gave in from exhaustion and took a break. Miguel, their old, original drummer, had to substitute, and he wasn't familiar with how to play the song. Boo!
So I left without my Munting Paraiso and Dagat ng Pag-asa but it was well worth-it anyway.
Razorback! AAAAW!
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Saturday, January 10, 2004
A journey
I always thought cancer was one of those things that happened only to other people. When I was a little girl, my friend's dad, tito Ed, passed away from something called "cancer" but I was too young to understand what it was. All I remember was that Tito Ed used to make me laugh by letting me touch his bald head, and joking that all his hair was actually kept in the fisherman's hat he always wore. Cancer was something that happened to other people, but not us. No, never to us.
It was a shock when my grandmother passed away from cancer, four months after she was diagnosed, a year and a half ago. That's the closest cancer has ever been, but the doctor said it was to be expected with her age. I still didn't think it could happen to us.
When my mother was diagnosed with breast cancer a month ago, I felt as if my foundations had been shaken. I never imagined my mother having to deal with cancer. I found it to be an incredibly cruel sentence. Why, why, why did my mom have to go through this? Why was God making her suffer? How cruel it all was.
At the same time, it all seemed so surreal. Here were all the things I had ever read about cancer, actually happening to my mother: the operations to remove the tumors, the possible need for chemotherapy (which in turn will make her hair fall out).
I also felt as if a big tidal wave was coming our way, and we had to everything we could to hold fast to each other.
My mother has always been a warrior. She has never been one to show fear, never been one to let herself get stepped on, and never one to back down from defending herself or her family should the need arise. She's one of the feistiest people I know, more so than the men in my family. For the first time, I see this warrior fighting a more difficult and tiresome battle, while at the same time, surrenduring to a higher power. Breast cancer is not just a battle of the body to heal, it is also a spiritual battle.
Two days ago, I accompanied her to the clinic for her first round of chemotherapy. I expected a hospital room with a steel bed and glaring, white walls. What we instead got was a cozy, and beautifully lit lounge with lazy-boys, IV racks, and stools for any friends or family member you may want to bring along with you. There was a TV, a VHS, a karaoke, and the walls were lined with books, magazines, and pamphlets on everything you'd ever need to know about cancer. There were even books on art done by breast cancer survivors, and magazines on wigs, and hats, and scarf-tying.
Odd as it sounds, it was a woman's sanctuary. Only women would ever understand what their breasts mean to them. Only women would ever understand what it means to lose them. Breasts are never just breasts to women.
Everytime life gets too comfortable, God decides to hit you with something new and unexpected. She is a demanding teacher. But I believe in the power of misfortune to set you off on a new spiritual journey. Suffering purifies you, makes you shed all our petty, earthly vanities and makes us think of the more important stuff.
Other news
I went to a party last night and tried "haguis" (I don't know how to spell it). It's the national dish of Scotland and it's made by stuffing a sheep's stomach with sheep's innards or something like that. Anyway, it tasted disapointingly like ordinart, household spam.
I also got extremely tipsy on Goldschlagger, fell asleep, and woke up with a bad hang-over.
And finally, my friends gave me the best Christmas gift ever. They've always been teasing me ever since I started coming out on TV. They are, perhaps, the only ones who always refused to take my so-called "celebrity" seriously, and the jokes were never-ending. I adore them for keeping it real.
Last night they gave me my late Christmas gift. It was an "Ala notebook" they had designed, printed, and bound themselves, patterned after those 10 peso notebooks you can buy in National Bookstore with various artistas on them. They made the cover look really cheesy with my picture on it and all (courtesy of Photoshop), and even put an "info section" in the back, spewing random, hilarious facts about me, with intentional typos and wrong grammar like those Japanese stationeries you buy at national. Even the lined pages inside had pictures of me that bore the caption "Use Clean & Clear, My Stuff, My Stop". The notebook looks amazingly authentic too. It'll blend right in with those national Bookstore artista notebooks.
It was the craziest, most hilarious, biggest joke of a present I've ever gotten but I was also touched beyond words.
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Monday, January 05, 2004
The Da Vinci Code
We had a guest speaker in our "Philippine Music Industry" class today, Rosslyn Reyes, marketing head of Sony Music. Her name, Rosslyn, immediately rang a bell. The name Rosslyn, or "Rose Line" was frequently mentioned in Dan Brown's "The Da Vinci Code", which i finally finished reading (or rather, "devouring") last December 30. I picked it up one night, thinking I wanted to "do a little reading" before sleeping. Wrong! I ended up not catching any sleep at all.
It's one of the most intriguing and suspensful novels I have ever read. And oh, the things you learn from it, the things you learn! Warning: it is only for the mature, temperate, discriminating, and extremely open-minded reader.
The book not only presents you with a great story but also with loads of mind-blowing information, like the unrevealed history of the Catholic Church, the original meanings of ancient symbols, the etymology of words, historical structures, secret societies, and whatnot.
Devout Catholics will most likely find the novel blasphemous, but though it might expose the Catholic Church in a rather unpleasant manner, not once does it ever demean God. It exposes only flawed, man-made religious structures, but never once doubts or undermines God.
The book mentions that organized religion did everything in it's power to squelch or undermine the feminine creative power that pre-Christianic worshippers used to attribute to the Creator. In other words, god was not always thought of as male. We have been trained by the Church to attribute male-ness to the Creator. Before the Church launched a campaign for a male god, people worshipped the Creator as the Mother, the creator and nurturer of life, the highest good and perfection.
Which is why I think what I like most about the novel was that I felt like it redeemed my femininity. I have always secretly felt that the Church has organized itself in such a way that women don't really count, at least not as much as men. We are made to pray to a Father (although I've secretly entertained the thought of God as a Mother). We have men taking over the maternal role of giving us "new life" through baptism, and giving us new names. Woman was created only as a follow-through to man, and out of a man's rib (although one may argue that there is a second Genesis account that tells of man and woman being created simultaneously). Why can't women be priests? Why should God be male? After all, does not the creator, nurturer and sustainer of the universe, have qualities that are more maternal than paternal? Would it be so bad, really, if God were female? Why can't She be both?
It all sounds so simplistic when I try to talk about it which is why you're better off reading the book. It is one of the most excellent reads I have ever laid hands on. In fact, I've already talked about it so much that I don't wish to say much about it anymore. It's really rather difficult to talk about it on an online journal.
However, I am open to discussions on the novel. If you've read it the book, or want to know more about it, leave me a comment. We'll have lovely discussions on it. I will soon start on Dan Brown's next novel, "Angels and Demons" which is said to be even better.
Baguio
It's amazing how tired one can get just by sitting in a car for 8 hours. That's how long our trip down from Baguio took yesterday. I spent 3 days and 3 nights there with my parents, brother, Nino (who seems to be the new eldest Paredes child since my sister moved out), and some aunties, uncles, and cousins.
We spent our three days and three nights doing primarily 3 things:
a) Pigged out till we went unconscious
b) Played Twister, our newly discovered favorite game.
c) And of course, the indispensable ukay-ukay trip.
Ukay vendors have gotten wise over the years. They used to sell their wares at rock-bottom prices. Years of being ripped-off by pompous, ignorant cityslickers with superiority complexes have transformed them into hardened merchants who don’t take shit from anyone. They'll glare at you, give you the evil eye, and refuse to lower the price. Take it or leave it. I took it.
We saw other interesting things there, like a white horse with a neon pink mane. It was seriously adorable. I wanted to take that horse home with me.
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Thursday, January 01, 2004
2004
Its my first New Years Eve in Manila for the first time in about 5 years. I'm always either up in Baguio, or in another country and I've become accustomed to quiet celebrations. Tonight, I spent it withy my family, my cousins, Nino at my house. We also invited in a bunch of about 25 young, Jesuit seminarians from different provinces... whom my mother literally picked off the street. 25 total strangers sitting at our tables and eating our ham. Nevertheless, I got them to do a song number on the MagicSing.
Funny we should have young seminarians over because I spent yesterday afternoon watching "The Crime of Padre Amaro". What a hot, hot priest Gabriel Garcia Bernal makes, holymarymotherofgod. If our neighborhood had a parish priest who looked like that, i'd go to confession everyday just to see him. I would even invent all sorts of horrible sins just to be able to go to confession everyday.
Anyways, since I've spent the past 5 New Years out of Manila, I've forgotten the noise, and the smoke. And for the first time in my life, I realized how absolutely, insanely dangerous firecrackers are. Left and right, you see your neighbors, regular suburban folk, playing with gunpowder. You see little kids lighting explosives, and you know they just might become another statistic in the news the next day, one of those people who lost an eye, or a finger, or nostril, or elbow.
When I was a kid, my uncle used to bring 3 balikbayan boxes of firecrackers to my house every year. I grew up spending my New Years amidst Fountains, Judas Belts, Crying Cows, Kwitis, Roman Candles, Sparklers, Watuzis, Super Lolos, and those things you nail on trees that spin around when you light them (funny how all 80s kids know the names of their fireworks). This year, he brought less, and instead of lighting them inside our lot, he set them off in the middle of the street, right there amidst the hundreds of entangled telephone and electric wires (it seems many of our neighbors decided to do the same). I kept imagining one of the fountains setting of an electric livewire in the middle of the street.
Standing out there in the middle of the street, I found the fireworks really pretty but at the same time I was terrified. I felt like I was in a warzone, and I had all these nightmares about someone's rocket going out of aim and shooting at my eye instead. I was staring up at the sky in admiration but at the same time covering my mouth with my hands, hunched over in a semi-crouch, in fear.
Nevertheless, it was a good New Year's Eve. Had plenty of wine, cheese, and karaoke, plus I spent it with someone I love.
We forgot to do the countdown for the first time in my entire life... I think it's because all our watches were out of sync with each other. Just like I always did as a kid, I ate 12 grapes, plus 1 for goodluck, and I jingled coins in my hand (because I didn't have any pockets) for prosperity. I didn't wear polkadots though... I had my black and white, 40's style polka dot dress all ready but opted at the last minute for the 250 peso dress I bought in Divisoria the other day. Also, one New Year's tradition I gave up a long time ago was jumping up and down at the stroke of midnight. It's supposed to make you grow taller within the new year... I think it worked a little too well. I'm too tall now.
Happy New Year to All! It will be a pivotal year for me. I'm graduating in March, I'm turning 21, and I will become both a tita and a ninang this year. Aaaahhh.
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