Saturday, March 27, 2004
certified member of the unemployed
Before marching into the high school covered courts, we were made to assemble by course, and by alphabetical order at the high school quad. We took this opportunity to take last minute pictures, say last minute congratulations, and last minute moments of just being thankful to have been with each other for the last four years. Nothing could have made us sad at that moment. We were happy, in high spirits. We were raring to march, and yet we all knew we wanted that assembly moment to go on forever.
That's me in my toga and my graduation make-up: electric blue eye-shadow and fuschia pink lipstick. I wanted to graduate in style. The pink earrings were a graduation gift from Nino. I love them.
This is me with some of the people I've spent the last four years with, pre-toga. Everyone looked so great all dressed up for grad. At the last minute, I decided to spice up my ratty black shoes by sticking pink bows on them with Mighty Bond.
This is my favorite picture. On my right is Mark Escaler, and to my left is Andrew Ty, two very dear Com teachers. I wish I could've gotten one with Anjo and Sev.
Our Valedictorian was Kendra Castillo, a physics major who will eventually get on to be an astro-physicist. Our guest speaker was Fr. Bernas, S.J.. Father Nebres looked like he could be an emperor of some ancient Chinese dynasty in his formal robes, sitting on his throne. All the teachers looked really regal, wise, and dignified in their togas. Their outfits also made them look like teachers from Harry Potter and I kept imagining them magically disapparating in puffs of smoke. Amazing how those togas can transform people. Even my batchmates, whom I saw everyday for four years in dirty t-shirts and messy hair were transformed into dignified, scholarly graduates last night. I didn't want to admit it first but right at that moment, I really did feel proud to be graduating from Ateneo de Manila University, and I really did feel scholarly. That was perhaps my first and only moment of true Ateneo love in my four years of college.
I felt like crying several times during the ceremony but vanity kept me from doing so. I didn't want my carefully applied, electric blue make-up to run before I even had a chance to get up on stage.
I spent the graduation ceremony next to my good friend and excellent thesis-partner, Charlene Owen. I was pretty lucky to have been seated right next to someone I knew. It was less boring that way. I've heard horror stories of graduations past, people coming close to passing out from the heat of those synthetic, polyester togas, people suffering from thirst, people falling asleep as a last recourse. Being with Charlene made it fun.
When I walked on stage, I held my fake diploma (we don't get the real ones until next year) up in the air and waved it for a few seconds before bowing. I just felt like I had to do something with the five seconds I had to be on that stage as an Ateneo graduate.
Despite requests from the hosts that we merely clap politely when people were called on stage to receive our diplomas, we students couldn't refrain from cheering and hooting. We were too happy. We had done it. Four years of college.
I never ever memorized the lyrics to the Ateneo Anthem, "Mary, For You", or whatever the heck the title is. But I made it a point to memorize it before we sang it during grad. VJ-ing for a year and half has helped instill amazing powers of memory retention. I memorized that song 5 minutes before we were about to sing it. I sang it completely, word per word, for the first time.
I think this is just about the time when everyone started crying. It was a kind of head-held-high, smiling kind of crying. This may have messed up the Ateneo anthem quiet significantly since people sound like broken instruments when they try to sing while crying. And yet, I've never heard the Ateneo anthem sung so crisply, and deliberately before. Everyone sang it with real pride. Even people who didn't have even a shred of "Ateneo pride" in all their four years of college seemed to sing it with a certain zest.
The song ended with cheers of "Yeah!", and "Ateneo!", and a shower of diplomas being thrown into the air. Then we changed from being dignified scholars, shed formalities, and went back to being plain, old sentimental students as everyone grabbed the nearest person to hug. Never mind if we had barely spoken two words to each other throughout college. We were finished and we had done it together. Even the teachers hugged us.
Sir Strebel, my old philosophy teacher even went up to me and Charlene to congratulate us. Turns out he was graduating too that day with a master's degree in philosophy. Hahaha, now he'll always remember us as the two students who gave him blue roses hahaha!
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Thursday, March 25, 2004
Blue Roast
Last night was the Blue Roast, the Ateneo seniors' farewell party, and the only time in college where we are allowed to legally drink beer on campus. Entrance was obscenely expensive (250 bucks) and I admit it put me in a rather sour mood that tainted the first hour or two of the night.
The program was okay...too many fashion shows and too little bands. What is up with the fashion show craze? When will it die down? I never enjoyed fashion shows, I don't like being in them and most of the time I get bored watching them. I've found the fashion shows that have been held during Ateneo events particularly pretentious. Oh I know it's all in the name of fun. There's absolutely nothing wrong with a good fashion show, and I know that the more fashion shows we hold, the more clothes companies will sponsor the event and give money. But then again, I didn't pay 250 bucks to watch the batchmates I've seen everyday for the past four years strut down the catwalk, wearing clothes that don't belong to them, and "projecting". It doesn't entertain me. Do people really like fashion shows?
Furthermore, I despise the overuse of the word "fashionista". The hosts kept peppering their spiels with that word. "Our next fashion show features the SMB fashionistas!" or "Our next batch of fashionistas will be wearing clothes by Chocolate". Is being a fashionista the great Atenean dream or something? Not everyone cares about becoming a "fashionista", and going on gimmicks, and being "cool".
And I'm not just complaining about the fashion shows because I love bands, and there were hardly any bands. What I hate is that this plethora of fashion shows seems to have become some kind of standard form of entertainment during events. Maybe some people do like fashion shows and there's nothing wrong with that. But there are also alot of people who couldn't care less, whose interests aren't catered to because of this hasty generalization that everyone loves fashion shows.
That's not to say I didn't enjoy the Blue Roast. I loved hanging out with people one last time, and taking pictures. And like I said, there was free beer and a few good performers.
And who did I end up giving my blue rose to? My junior year philosophy teacher Wilhelm Strebel who will probably read this blog. Even if he gave me a C for both semesters. Sinamahan pa ako ni Nino.
I would've given away alot more if the younger batches had been present. Never was interested in anyone from my batch for some reason, at least not after the first semester of freshman year.
Here are pics of the Blue Roast!!!
And as promised
Here is Nino's "surprise moment" during his pparty last March 21. Click on the image to view all pictures!
an interesting activity
Fifteen years ago I...
- was quiet, dreamy five year old who preferred being alone. I lived more in an imaginary world than a real one, where I was a princess with a wand with magic powers. I would talk to inanimate objects and walk around in a princess costume everday. I was beginning prep A in SHS, and my parents were worried that i had not yet learned to read. This, coupled with my dreaminess made them suspect I was mentally slow. Turns out I was just lazy. I read my first word at six, could read any word placed before me affterwards, and had the one of highest reading levels in my batch growing up.
Ten years ago I...
--- was in Grade 4-Taal. I had one real friend, Jenn Simons, and thought she was the only friend I would ever need. I loved drawing and I would never listen in class because I would be drawing. I loved roller blading in the street, and every Friday I would go to Miguel Siojo's house and hang out with a group of neighborhood kids called The Friday Club. I went to the States for the first time since I was born and went to Disneyland.
Five years ago I...
-- was fifteen years old and in 3rd year highschool. My hair was so short, it was a sort of semi-crew cut. At that time I thought I had it made for life. I was good at what I loved to do (drawing), I did alot of theater. I often had the best clothes, and the best stories, and a fair share of male admirers during the few "soirees" I actualy went to. I didn't have any enemies at school, and was friends with pretty much everyone. I couldn't wait to get out of school and conquer the world. I knew exactly what I wanted to do and what I wanted to be.
Two years ago I...
-- was 18 and a college sophomore. This was when I willingly submitted myself to a sort of metamorphosis. I read somewhere that people mark each other like leaving fingerprints on pristine glass. Often they merely scratch us, sometimes they crack us. Sometimes they smash us. Someone I loved left me a broken person. I felt like a tree pulled from the ground by it's roots, looking for soil I could grasp on to. Suddenly I didn't know what i wanted to be and I didn't feel like I had a place anywhere. Willingly, I abandoned old convictions and openly defied them. I broke out of the mold. This was the year I began to find out for myself what was good, what was bad, and just how far I could go. They were hard years, but happy years.
One year ago I...
--- I was 19 and nearing the end of Junior year. I had an awesome new job working at MYX, I was making lots of money, I was meeting so many new friends, and I was happy. But sometimes I would see him and feel like I was back in my black hole. Then I'd have to go do something new again to feel new. I was having alot of unruly fun though. I didn't want to be with anyone but maybe deep down inside what I wanted someone I could get over the fear with. I met Nino Avenido at around this time but the thought of anything happening between us never crossed my mind.
Yesterday I...
- was a 20 year old girl who woke up earlier than usual to escort Nino Avenido, to the grocery store to help him shop for his birthday party. I jetted off to Christ the King to attend a mass for my lola's birthday celebration, the one who passed away a year and a half ago. Then I went to the Blue Roast to be with my batchmates one last time before graduation on Friday.
Today I...
- woke up at noon, from the Blue Roast. I'm graduating tomorrow and I still don't really know what I want to do or be. I went to Jenn's grandma's wake (her grandmother died before my grandma's birthday, and incidentally, will be placed in the same crypt). Met up with my college friends at Dave's place. I'll miss seeing these people everyday. They're the only real barkada I've ever had.
Tomorrow I will...
- be graduating!
Next week i will...
- go to the dentist to have my decade-old iron fillings replaced with white porcelain ones. There will be drilling galore. I want to die already just thinking about it.
next year i will...
- be driving, doing something I love, while doing something humanitarian. Applying for a new school. Happy. In love.
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Monday, March 22, 2004
surprise party
After three months of intensively planning Nino's surprise party, I was finally able to put those plans into play last night. Nino's surprise party was 150% succesful! He arrived slightly delayed. I had to hold off the committee in charge of bringing him to the party because most of the guests came later than planned. It was pretty wild though.
When Nino walked into the dark bar, and the lights suddenly came on, and all his friends yelled "Happy Birthday", he looked like he was going to faint for a moment. Then he grinned so widely and started shaking his head in disbelief, and he looked a little dazed and unbelieving, like someone who thinks he's hallucinating.
I wasn't expecting him to go out into the parking lot and start crying happy tears (aaaaaw). I had to run out after him. He was so happy. After he had calmed down I urged him to join his guests. He was smiling so widely the whole night, he looked like a kid whose ultimate dream had just come true.
There was endless beer, awesome jamming, and just enough food for everyone. There were about 45 people at one point. Everyone was in a great mood too.
I think the story of how we got him there is worth narrating.
There were three main pawns responsible for putting everything into play that night.
1) Me- the directress and party planner, in charge of making sure everyone got to the venue on time.
2) Paul's group- a group of musicians and friends of Nino, scheduled to practice in Paul's house all the way in far-of Paranaque.
Then of course, there was
3) Nino, clueless and unsuspecting.He had been planning the practice at Paul's since Wednesday. It was a new project and he was quite intent on getting it started. He was planning a major production.
March 21, 2004:
Nino packed up his equipment, picked up three bandmates, and made the long drive to Paul's house in Paranaque. He hadn't gotten any real sleep yet because he had spent the night loading his car with equipment. Some of his band members had backed out of practice (at my urging) and he was a little harrassed. they got to Paul's house, and practice began. It was sunset.
I on the other hand was waiting anxiously for guests to arrive at the bar. I was downing beers like crazy. I'm usually tipsy on just one, and I usually have just one. Last night, while waiting for the guests alone, I had three. I was that nervous.
Back to Paul's house in Paranaque. Paul is from one of those political families, and their house is apparently rigged with security devices, including a loud-speaker system. Paul excused himself away from the band, and he himself got on the speaker system. "Paul", he anounced. "Paul, your father called. There's going to be an emergency election caucus here. He wants you out by the time they get here." A wonderful lie I must say.
Paul rejoined the guys. "Hear that guys? We have to move. I have a friend in QC whose house we can practice in."
Paul, Nino, and the guys packed up the equipment (again) and prepared to make the long, tedious trip back to QC. Nino was, by then, royally harrassed and pissed.
By then, I had a good crowd waiting at Fox Square. Five minutes away from the bar, one of Nino's guys texted me. It was the go-signal for everyone to hide, and to turn off the lights.
You know the rest.
PICTURES TO COME!!!
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Saturday, March 20, 2004
Ateneo comm major lang ang makaka-gets ng entry na toh
Konyo time. Aminin. Lahat naman tayo ay nagta-talk ng ganito minsan, diba?
Kakagaling ko lang sa aming Comm Roast sa Comm dep. Nanalo ako ng "Hey Ms. Veejay, Can I Make a Request" Award. Touched naman ako. Dalawa kasi ang veejay sa batch namin sa Comm. Ako, at si Patty Laurel. Wala lang. Ang kulit lang eh. Sa wakas ay naramdaman ko na ang aking pagiging Comm Major. Nasa ikatlong taon na ako ng kolehiyo nang ako'y nag-shift sa Comm mula sa AB Humanities. Nakahabol naman ako sa mga subjects na hindi ko na-take nung Freshman year at Sophomore year. Ngunit, lagi akong O.P. sa mga comm batchmates ko. Nakapag-bond na sila for two years ahead of time. Same with the teachers. Magkakilala na silang lahat. I didn't even have a block.
So ngayon, dahil nakatanggap ako ng award, at dahil ibinanggit ang pangalan ko ni Sev Sarmienta ng dalawang beses sa kaniyang pampaalam na talumpati (siningle out kung baga), na-feel ko na tuloy na kabilang talaga ako sa Comm batch 2004.
Nagkaraoke contest ang mga teacher sa Magic Sing. Bagay na bagay sa mga personalidad nila ang mga napili nilang awitin. Si Sev ay kumanta ng Barry Manilow song. "The Long Road" yata ang pamagat. Si Imbong ay kumanta ng "Yesterday". Si Anjo ay kumanta ng "Like a Virgin". May choreo pa siya at naglugay pa talaga ng kaniyang buhok. Si Andrew Ty ay kumanta ng "Boys Don't Cry" by The Cure. At si Mark Escaler, pantasya ng bawa't babaeng Comm Major, as kumanta ng "Every Breath You Take". Sabay nag-hiyawan ang mga babae.
Nakakuha ako ng oportunidad na yakapin si Mark Escaler nang nag-byebye siya sa amin. Hindi ko plinano. Na-feel ko lang talagang yakapin siya at that moment. Gumaya naman si Charlene. Mabango siya.
Nagbigay ng goodbye message lahat ng mga teacher. Nakakaiyak.
Blue Rose
May gimmick silang pinaplano para sa Blue Roast: ang "Blue Rose". Kailangan daw, on the night of the Blue Roast, ay lapitan natin ang ating mga "college crush", at bigyan ng blue rose. In other words, bukingan. Aminan.
Sino ba ang college crush ko na ka-batch ko? Yung talagang crush na crush ko all the way from Freshman to Senior? Pwede bang teacher nalang ang bigyan?
Lahat ng mga super naging crush ko sa college, either higher batch or lower batch. Pero gusto ko talaga mag-participate sa Blue Rose. Once in a lifetime lang iyon eh. Ang saya lang eh.
sige, it's English time, you know
I've been working on a creating a lifestyle change and becoming almost vegetarian since the cancer scare in our family. I stress the word almost. I can't give up cheese, and milk, and eggs, and I still want to eat meat sometimes (and foie gras!). What I want to avoid is trans fat, and processed food, and cholesterol, and chemicals, and Mcdonalds. I also want to get into organic food. I'm having trouble figuring out where to shop and what to eat though. If there are any people out there living my desired lifestyle, please lend me some advice. Thank you.
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Thursday, March 18, 2004
distraction addiction
I realize I spend an awful lot of time on the internet , surfing the same old websites aimlessly and compulsively like someone who has gone insane. My internet habit has begun to become some sort of extender, to fill in the gaps of my life wherein I feel like I'm not doing anything. It's like an addiction to distraction. Entertainment has to be induced frequently, at all times.
Look what this age of technology has done. We feel uncomfortable when our minds our blank. It has to be fed at all times, with the internet, TV, newspapers, books... it's like we can't bear to not think. Or more appropriately, we can't bear doing any real thinking so we distract ourselves and let the media do the thinking for us.
Why generate our own ideas when we can log on to the net, or pick up a newspaper, and fill our head with someone else's ideas?
I look at kids my little brother's age and it's even worse. They always have to be glued to something: computers, ICQ, Gameboy, discman, radio, Kazaa, TV... you never see them just silent and thinking. It's distraction addiction. It's like thinking of everything, but of actual, tangible reality the least.
My dad made me perfrom an exercise once called "Media Deprivation" wherein I wasn't allowed to touch or engage in any form of media for three days: no books, magazine, newspapers; no internet, no radio...not even in the car. Not even a book before bed. Avoid media at all cost, as far as you can help it.
It was really difficult the first day. My hands felt empty, my mind was in disarray, and I kept looking for something to do. The second day is when you realize that you have so much more free time than you ever had before. By the third day, I felt somewhat cleansed... detoxified. I found myself liking the silence. I liked being in my room without turning on the radio. Also, I slept better at night. I don't know if I became a more brilliant thinker or anything like that, but you do find yourself thinking of other things other than what the morning paper said, or what your friend emailed you.
It doesn't work that way for everyone of course. Some people who did the excercise couldn't stand it.
I'm thinking of putting myself through another media-withdrawal exercise. But that would require having a friend baby sit my Mac. Maybe I should just remove my airport card so I won't be able to connect to the internet.
I have to stop feeding myself all this distraction. That'll be one of my summer resolutions.
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Wednesday, March 17, 2004
one year
Nino and I turned one year last Monday, March 15! We're not really the "anniv" type but I think the one-year milestone is important...ritual is important Besides, any reason to celebrate being with the person you love is a good reason.
So we celebrated our togetherness with a sumptious lunch in Sonya's Garden, Tagaytay which i think was the perfect place: great fresh, food, beautiful surroundings, and worth the pay. We bought a bottle of Sangria, and spent the afternoon driving around (no we didn't drive around drunk. I drank most of it), and had a perfect day.
My only regret is that I didn't charge the digi-cam, and we took only 2 pictures before the battery died.
aside from that...
I've been doing things and going places that I never had the time and energy to do and go to before. It's starting to feel great having no school. Last Friday, I went to my friend Pia's jewelry show in Sanctum.
Lo and behold, Mr. Montecillo, the stranger who gave me flowers, was there. And guess what else, I was wearing the exact, same blue dress I had on that day he gave me flowers much to my embarrassment. He went up to me with narrowed eyes. "You look familiar", he said, though I'm quite sure he knew perfectly well who I was :-). We shook hands and he said he'd talk to me later.
However, Nino arrrived at Sanctum coming straight from the Incubus concert, and I think Mr. Montecillo may have lost his nerve when he saw us together because we never did talk.
Saturday was spent at a baking workshop in New Manila. My mom decided to channel my baking frenzy into something more systematic, so she signed me and my sister up under Dennis Hippolito. We learned how to make Strawberry Charlotte, Chocolate Souffle, Peach Kuchen, Tangerine Loaf, and Cheese Muffins...we didn't actually make them ourselves. We watched him make it, sometimes sniffing the batter; and afterwards we ate the finished product. That, my friends, was our baking lesson. I can't wait to try the souffle at home.
Went to Sib's party... left early.
Last Sunday, I went to ABS to visit the MYX people for the first time since I left. I miss each one of them and their killer personalities. I miss all the mischief in Studio 12 during taping, and all the times the studio's doorknob broke down, and we were trapped inside for a whole hour. I even miss those ridiculous costumes they would make me wear, good God. And the gay linggo you pick up. You can't work in TV and expect to not speak like a gay man affterwards. They made me guest on an episode of My MYX with Lucky Manzano who apparently has started visiting this site often *wink, wink.
Yesterday was spent in Virgin Beach, Batangas with Cogie Domingo for a swimwear shoot with Penshoppe. I look like a stick figure in a bathing suit. I'm too damn skinny. We have a nice summer campaign coming along though, great photography and all. I currently have a billboard along EDSA and SLEX which I think they did a nice job on. I'm with two other girls and were all holding surfboards.
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Friday, March 12, 2004
pre-baccalaureate rantings
I got my report card last Monday, the one that confirms whether I'm a graduate or not. I was pretty happpy with results except I missed the Dean's List by .2 because of my C in Tagalog Philosophy. Damn that Tagalog Philosophy. Damn damn damn.
I'm particularly proud of my B+ in Vicky Parco's Theology 151 class because well... si Parco iyon, eh.
I got one A, and it was in Ms. Boots Anson-Roa's performance class. Too bad she left the class mid-semester when she decided to run alongside FPJ.
This sounds crazy but I miss school.
I haven't been this unproductive in years. I lay around at home, thinking of nothing. I tinker with my computer. I hang out with Nino on the couch and watch DVDs I've seen before.
I keep imagining that my brain is turning into that foie gras I ate last Wednesday. I want to go to class or something. I want to get into something new. And to think I haven't even marched yet.
Looks like I'll be going back to school sooner than I planned.
On the other hand, I'm PMS-ing like crazy, and along with being overly emotional, my food cravings have reached an all-new intensity. I wanted North Park so badly yesterday and when I found out Nino couldn't push through with his plans of taking me there, I seriously wanted to cry.
I've also been strangely compelled to bake. I've been baking-happy. It must be the lack of activity. I've been raiding my pantry, trying to get my hands on every box of cake mix we have. Since they had all been expired for almost a decade, my cake-mix quest turned into a pantry clean-out. We found boxes of cake mix with lifeforms growing on them. Me and my friend Elea ended up making cookies from scratch. We made brownies too.
Aside from baking, I've been doing a bunch of odd things like giving my friend Conrad a haircut, and sleeping over at my sister's condo wherein we watched all three discs of "Sex and the City" season four, and disc one of season five.
Yay.
my favorite decorating scheme
This entry has been a long time coming.
I hate, no, abhor a particular Filipino decorating scheme element: the Greek column.
After seeing quite a number of Filipino houses with the Greek column incorporated into their facades, I finally had to write this entry.
Whether Doric, or Roman, or Corinthian, it doesn't matter, it's still hideous. HIDEOUS! What on earth compells people to build Greek columns?! Are we in Greece? Are we Greek? Are we in the Parthenon?
What's worse is when the Greek columns look totally out of place, when the rest of the house doesn't look Greek! Can't they at least go with a consistent theme?
The worst is when people decorate their living rooms with a Greco-Roman theme, with Greek columns. Sometimes, they may even include shorter Greek columns that serve as display platforms, that hold paper-mache busts of Plato/ Aristotle/ random "Greek" man, or paper-mache imitations of the famous statue of Venus de Milo, all sponged to look like real marble. Sometimes, the statue is just a person with it's private parts covered with a cloth, and with random limbs lopped off to make it look like it was excavated from old Greek ruins.
What's even more bizarre is that this Greco-Roman theme is often cross-bred with a French, King Louie XIV theme. Along side the Greek columns, you will find a tapestry on the wall displaying pastel images of serene French people, men and women, wearing elaborate white wigs, poofy dresses, and with moles painted on their cheeks. And if said tapestry is present, chances are, you will also find within the vicinity, a fringed lamp, with two wigg-ed, mole-d porcelain French people serving as the lamp's base.
And finally, the homemaker with a penchant for Greek columns almost always has the same penchant for Baroque furniture. Be on the lookout for sofas with floral upholstery, with golden, delicate, curved legs, and trademark ball-and-claw feet.
All of this, is tied together with frilly curtains, the kind with a sort of "dust ruffle" (for lack of the appropriate term), a Persian rug, and a few breakable objects like an ostentatious, gold-framed mirror, a chandelier, and figurines of either horses or swans, sculpted out of colored glass (note: the figurines are only ever horses or swans. It is rare that you'll find any other kind).
As a last note, I apologize to anyone who's tastes I may have offended. I am merely voicing out my own personal dislike for Greek columns. I also apologize to any Greek columns I may have offended.
the endless
For those of you who are Sandman fans, check out my friend Raymz's page and check out the uber cool art he did on Photoshop. He casted the Endless with mortal actors :-p. It's a must see!
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Sunday, March 07, 2004
roses
It's not every day a complete stranger goes up to you and gives you roses.
That's what happened as I was sitting in our shop in Eastwood, beside my mother, painting a tile.
This over 25 guy, who looked a little like Quark Henares, went up to me and said "Excuse me, this is for you".
I was pretty surprised, and I initially thought that maybe he was a flower delivery boy because I had never seen him before in my life.
"Oh, from who?", I asked.
"They're from me. I was trying to get you blue ones to match with your dress but they didn't have any, but pink looks nice too."
I didn't really know what to say so I said "Thanks...wow... what for?"
"I saw you and you looked like you needed them." (did I somehow look particularly depressed right at that moment?)
Then he turns to my mom and said something like "I salute you too. You're a very brave person. I heard it somewhere." I assumed he was talking about my mom going through chemo. I guessed that maybe he was one of my blog readers. How else would he know?
He introduced himself as David,and before saying goodbye, handed me his card in an un-sleazy way. It said "David C. Montecillo, MBA. Green Lightworks CO".
Later on, he came back again to say goodbye, and asked me my name which got me thinking again. So maybe he's not one of my blog readers, or he's pretending not to know who i am. My mom asked him what Greenlights Works was and it's apparently a company he owns that holds workshops for relieving stress or something like that.
It was surprising, and as always when I am given special attention, it was just a little awkward. But the gesture made me (and my mom) smile.
I wonder how long he stood there just deciding whether or not get me flowers. It sure doesn't happen everyday.
Nonetheless, in case he decides to search for his name on the inter-net and reads this: Mr. David Montecillo, thanks for making my day yesterday. :-)
role model
Yesterday, I was asked by my tita to give a talk to the graduating seniors of St. Paul Pasig. I had to talk about how to prepare for college, not academically, more of socially, emotionally, etc. It was hard because there's no way you can really prepare for college in that sense. I'm hardly one to lecture about it because I didn't exactly enter college smoothly. It was a rough and bumpy road, and I admit to being among one of the students who didn't fare very well in the social and emotional sense during my first year. I think my freshman year was marked by major identity crisis.
I still enjoyed every minute of it of course, but it did change me... ALOT.
What was awkward about the talk was that was being made out to be a role model. I am hardly a good role model for high school kids. Sure I got above average grades despite having a job, and I never did anything incredibly stupid like get busted for drugs on campus, or get caught cheating or anything like that.
But then, I was in no way a prefect angel either. I met my requirements, I did my parents proud. And when I could afford to, never at the expense of my studies, had my own secret fun too. Everyone should live a little during college, everyone should have a little crazy fun you can brag to your grandkids about in 50 years.
Hmmm, so maybe I am a good role model... a realistic, unpretentious one at least *wink, wink*.
I tried my best to make my new haircut as neat as possible while talking to those kids. It doesn't exactly make me look like the kind of person you'd want to guide your kids.
Went to a Happy Meals gig last night. Galing! Galing, galing.
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Thursday, March 04, 2004
Mullitia
After much contemplating, and after watching "Spinal Tap" for two days in a row, I decided to go on a quest to Toni and Guy salon and blow the gift certificates I got for X-mas on a new haircut. I mentioned Spinal Tap because the movie played a crucial role in what style I decided to get.
I've been sick of my hair. It's long, and scraggly, and unstyled, and makes my head looked pyramid shaped. Also, I was sick of the whole virginal, long-layered, parted-in-the-middle style I had been sporting for 3 years (see grad pic in previous entry). All around me, my straight-haired friends would disapear for a few hours into a salon, and emerge, reborn, with gorgeous, new hair-cuts. I decided long ago that I wanted something new. But what? What was it that my heart (and hair) truly desired?
The answer came when I was at Freedom Bar one night, when completely from out of the blue, I suddenly began to desire *gasp* a mullet. I spoke the dreadful thought out loud, and Nino looked at me like I was insane, or like my taste had just gone down the drain.
*** note: FYI, a mullet is a hairstyle, highly popular in the 80s, described accurately as "short on top, long at the bottom". Learn all you need to know about mullets at www.mulletsgalore.com.
Yes, I know it's too insane an idea to even speak out loud. Who on earth would willingly get a mullet, let alone want one? Getting a mullet is the equivalent of self-sabotage. Mullets are shunned and despised by society. But the idea stayed in my head for many months, during which I had many illicit mullet fantasies. I kept quiet in shame.
As mentioned earlier, I watched Spinal Tap the other day, and that was what gave me the extra push I needed. I decided last night that I would get the mullet, and I made my appointment.
Well... more of a semi mullet to be exact. A watered down version of the original 80's glam-rock hair style. Jem-and-the-Holograms-ish you might say.
The haircut made me look like a combination of Death from Sandman, and Dave Perner from "Soul Assylum". I looked at the mirror for 5 seconds. It looked disheveled, scraggly, unwashed, and generally not the kind of hair you'd like on a girl you'd bring home to meet mom. It also made me look like I do drugs.
I decided that I liked it, no, loved it. "Perfect!", I exclaimed. Noone at the salon said anything though.
My brother saw me and asked what the hell I did to my hair, and asked if I had just been electrocuted. But overall, it's had good reception.
From now on, I will wear nothing but spandex and glittery eyeshadow to match my hair.
Conrad says that I am vain for posting these pictures, and that he doesn't see any difference between my old hair and my new glam hair. Ignorant fool. Does he not understand the delicate physics of hair? Men are so unobservant.
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Wednesday, March 03, 2004
shameless
Dear friends of Ala.
You may all avail of a low-resolution copy of my wallet-sized grad pic, complete with generic dedication in my own track-pad handwriting.
Instructions:
1) Print out the front and back (see below).
2) Stick back to back.
3) Fill in the empty space with your name. Viola.
Yeyeyeyeyeyeye. Mahal kasi magpa-recopy, eh.
Whether or not I'm, actually going to graduate will be revealed on Monday.
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