Wednesday, July 28, 2004
imelda
I know I'm not the only person dying to discuss this film. People walked out of the movie theater aghast, amused, intrigued, outraged. Before I begin, first of all, this entry is no way a political statement. While it is true that my family is unabashedly anti-Marcos, it is not a war I partake in. This of course does not mean that I am blind to the evils of the past. I am aware that many of my kin (and maybe many of your kin) suffered in one way or another during the Marcos regime, aunties, uncles, my grandmother. I am aware of all this. And I am against the evils of the Marcos administration, as with the evils of any administration. But I am closely acquainted (and also related) to a handful of the Marcos and Romualdez relatives and consorts, and I bear no grudge against of them. It is not their war, and neither is it mine. Anything I say in this entry is my own, individual impression of Imelda left on me after watching the film, not an attack upon anyone.
Imelda quote:"Beauty is the ultimate expression of love and God. The highest prize."
(well I can't remember the exact quote because I've only seen the movie once. But yes, she most definitely said something not too far away from that)
Imelda, Imelda! After seeing the film, I ask myself the same question others have: do I love her, or hate her now? I neither love her nor hate her. What I do feel is a sort of outraged pity, but also, a sort of lust for her. She is so intriguing, and apparently the others thought so too because the audience gobbled her up eagerly, as if served to them on a plate. Love her, or hate her, the woman definitely has... something.
Maybe it's because she's so beautiful. Virginal features, glowing skin, people oohed and ahhed whenever the young Imelda came on screen. She lit up the screen efffortlessly, a joy to the eye, and even the fiercest of anti-Imeldans had to admit that right then and there, they understood how so many people came to fall in love with her, how she charmed the masses with that famous Imelda allure. She was so beautiful, so glamorous, so... one cannot help but sigh. She will seduce you.
It is precisley this allure that makes her so... outrageous! I could go on and on recalling her dozens of contemptible one-liners. I can't count how many times she made me say, "WHAAAT? Is she for real? Did she really just say that?"
I am not one to judge Imelda in terms of black and white, and I see that she did many good things during her years as first lady. But I also see that she is a woman who is in-love with herself, to the point of dellusion. "Conceit" is even too weak and petty a word. I think the word "narcissism" would be more appropriate. She is in-love with herself and is obsessed with her own self-glorification. The way she primps, the way she seems to carry herself as some sort of diamond among the shingles, the way she so vehemently upholds beauty as the ultimate prize and expression of God and love.
This narcissism has produced in her the unwavering belief that she is God's gift to the suffering masses, some sort of messianic complex. The way she thinks of herself as "star and slave". Though it's true that she brought hope and joy to many of the poor, visiting them in their hometowns, swathed in glamour, I think she did much of it for love of the adoration she received. Not that it's wrong to love being adored. Who wouldn't? What I do find unbelievable is how she upholds herself as some sort of "suffering messiah", how she pretends being beautiful for the public is some sort of burdensome earthly mission bestowed on her by God, and not something she enjoys for her own vanity.
The woman just cannot get over herself, as shown through various testimonials from people who encountered her, her fondess for showing videos of herself, how she could talk about herself for hours, her dresses, her jewelry, her shoes. Simply put by one of the people who gave a testimonial on Imelda in the film, "[everything she does], it's all cosmetics".
As the film wore on, I became more and more convinced that this woman is completely insane. And I'm not just talking about the many senseless diagrams and incoherent philosophies she presents to us herself in the film, like her "Eight Portals to Freedom", or her memorable "Pacman" diagram, or her logic on how the Creator, the cosmos, and computers are interrelated (???? watch the film. You won't miss this part). What pronounces her insanity is how the disparity between the real world and her own account of various events is so wide, it's almost tragic. She has managed to convince herself that she is pure, sinless, blameless, and unjustly oppressed for the evils committed during the Marcos regime. She had one truly outrageous line about how it was the Marcoses who were the true victims of the Aquino assassination. I'm not saying she killed Ninoy, maybe she did, maybe she didn't. But to declare herself the true victim of Ninoy's assassination was just too much.
Also, she's so obsessed with her philosophy of beauty that it seems she has chosen to fiercelydeny the ugliness of the real world. She said so herself, "When I see something ugly, like a pile of garbage, I look away". She only sees what she wants to see in her universe of beautiful delusion.
And for a woman who has devoted so much of her life to attaining beauty in all things, how can she gaze upon her husband's preserved corpse and feel like it's... a normal thing? She says over and over again that beauty is our true state, and therefore beauty is merely what is natural to us. If beauty is natural, how then can she find such an unnatural thing beautiful? Her husband's stiff, frozen, processed corpse? Why doesn't she return his body to the earth and let nature take it's course as it should've done long ago?
All of this is what makes Imelda so irresistible, so intriguing. Tragic but still so glamorous. Despicable, but oh, so beautiful! Outrageous, but charming. Intriguingly complex. It's no wonder, it's no wonder.
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Tuesday, July 27, 2004
flirting with insanity
The art gallery has been closed down and stripped bare for about a week now in preparation for the next art exhibition. It is empty, white, and silent as a tomb save for the unsettling hum of the air-conditioner. Yesterday, I was made to walk around there alone and map out the traffic flow for the next exhibit, where to hang which painting and such. I'm already afraid of dark, empty places, but a chill went up my spine when, feeling eyes at my back, I realized I was not alone. Over by the far wall, a ghostly child hovered ominously.
Everywhere I went, I could see her out of the corner of my eye, staring at me. And everytime I would turn my back, I'd whirl around again and catch her just looking at me. I was all alone, and my imagination was driving me nuts. So I kept telling her to stop. "Hoy!" I'd say. "Bastos kang bata ka! Tingin ka diyan!". She didn't answer back (it would've been a different story if she did).
In the meantime, the other artworks have started coming in, and they are fantastic! You must all come to see the exhibit Critical Condition, opening to the public on August 6. It features nominees and winners of the inaugural Ateneo Art Awards, modern Filipino artists below age 35. It's really going to be a one of a kind exhibit. Please try to drop by. It is so worth it.
Take note of a painter named Geraldine Javier. She's a nursing graduate and she paints in black and white, photo-realistic style. She's obsessed with death and her paintings are mostly dead people in graceful, enigmatic poses. I used to think her paintings were dark but I learned that she liked to paint pictures of death as beautiful, and not bloody and painful. An amazing painter with a brilliant mind, she just blows me away.
undiscovered wonders of the 3rd world
My cousin Cristina has been here on a visit from the US for about a month now. While here, she has discovered some wonders of the 3rd world, places to shop in like Greenhills, Marikina Riverbank, and her new favorite place to shop: Divisoria!
"Malls are for the weak!", she proclaimed triumphantly when she got home, loaded with purchased wares.
Seeing how much she enjoyed her Divi adventure, I decided it was time to take her on a truly 3rd world adventure, one she would never forget. Remember, Cristina is a person raised in the sheltered, safe, and orderly confines of 1st world America. In America, they make it so that nothing can hurt you. And if due to some misfortune something does hurt you, you can always retaliate and slap a lawsuit on anyone for the most minor of offenses. I wanted to take Cristina somewhere away from her comfort zone, somewhere anarchic, disorderly, dangerous. "Cristina", I said,"how would you like to go Star City?"
"Sure, whatever, anything is fine with me."
YAHOOO!
Star City is a city that evokes feelings of pathos, and exudes an air of danger and squalor. Walking into it immediately gives one a feeling discomfort, like walking into a bad part of town, or a dark, shady alley way. It could be the hokey statues and tacky paintings on the walls. It could be the drab, dingy lighting. Or it could be the echoing sound of steel grinding on steel when the rides, suspicious-looking and unoiled, come to a tumultuous halt. Whatever it is, people who are faint of heart, or who have no sense of humor, or are just plain sosyal should NOT go to Star City. It is best enjoyed with a devil-may-care, game-for-anything attitude, and a slightly twisted mind.
I was a little worried about taking Cristina there. What if she just plain hated the place? What if she didn't see the humor in it? What if she didn't get the joke? But as we approached, she assessed the area carefully before finally concluding: "Wow... this place looks like I could die in here... how exciting! Let's go!". I knew then that we were going to have a day of fun.
Some things that make Star City SPECIAL!!!:
1) You pay a fee per ride, but you can avail of an all-day pass that allows you access to as many rides as you want... for a mere 150 pesos! (Take that, Enchanted Kingdom!)
2) Bags are inspected upon entering to make sure you are not carrying any bombs or fire arms. But many of Star City's hundreds of tiangge stalls sell kitchen knives, bolos, guns, and balisongs along with the usual plastic earings, bangles, toys, clothes, and panties. No need to bring your weapons, terrorists! You can find 'em all right inside!
3) And speaking of the tiangge you can buy amazing objects there, such as a radio with a pair of talking lips, and a Bible on a keyring, the size and thickness of a matchbox, complete with both old and new testament, footnotes, and illustrations. How about that!
4) Star City has many rides that are rip-offs of Disney cartoons. They have a Snow White ride, a Little Mermaid ride, and a Lion King water ride. It is amazing how Disney hasn't hit them with a big, fat lawsuit... then again, maybe Disney doesn't care.
5) Star City has more food selections than E.K. ever will. It abounds with stalls that sell chicharon bituka, chicharon bulaklak, isaw, fishball, as well as hearty Filipino dishes like adobo, pochero... even bibingka and putobumbong.
6) Star City's greatest, undiscovered treasures are it's horror houses. Forget Disney Land's "Haunted Mansion". Forget those hi-tech American horror houses where the ghosts don't even touch you. Forget vampires. Tikbalangs, kapres, tiyanaks, and other horrors of Philippine folklore are much scarier than some dead, white guy with fake blood coming out of his mouth. In the Star City horror houses, YOU WILL GET SCARED. THEY WILL RUTHLESSLY TERRORIZE YOU UNTIL YOU ARE A WAILING, TREMBLING WRECK. AND YES, THEY MAY EVEN HURT YOU. It's awesome.
After her the first horror house, Cristina commented, " I feel as if I have left civilization far behind, and that in this place, law and order do not exist." I knew she was having a great time.
Like all Filipino horror houses, someone chases you and grabs at your back when you're near the exit which never fails to drive people into a wild panic before running out the exit screaming and collapsing into piles of laughter, embarrassment, and relief. That's exactly what we did, and as I lay on a bench right outside the exit trying to catch my breath, a very sweaty, pot-bellied man in a sando and shorts sauntered pompously out the exit after us, and very obnoxiously said, "Sus, bakit kayo natakot? Nakapikit naman kayo, eh". It was the chaser guy. He wasn't even in costume or anything. The person that so effectively struck terror in our hearts inside that horror house was nothing but a pot-bellied man in a sando. We left the horror house with him standing by the exit, taking a swig of coke, and waiting for his next victims.
I am ashamed to admit that I acted like a sissy when we went through that first horror house. Especially since it was I who was so insistent to go through it. They had to drag me in screaming and I was so scared the whole time that I kept cursing, clinging on to Nino desperately, and singing "Hey Jude" out loud (it just made sense to do so right then). I was braver in the second one though, "Gabi ng Lagim". Don't you love the name? The name alone inspires fear!
7) Last but not least is Star City's death-defying collection of rides. I use the adjective "death-defying" because you literally defy death. You literally fear for your life on some of those rides. Star City is an indoor amusement park, and there are some rides that just don't belong indoors, like "Anchors Away", a giant boat that swings left and right at frightening angles. People who ride it usually scream when the boat is swinging downwards because it makes them feel like their stomach is going. In Star City, we screamed when the boat was swinging upwards, because the end of the boat would stop just 5 feet short of the wall. Dangerously near. I was afraid...very afraid.
Then of course, there's The Blizzard. It is a roller coaster that goes in very rapid spirals. But after riding it, I decided to re-christen it as "The Roller Coaster of Pain". The ride hurt! It was rickety, and made of weak material, and was bumpy enough to cause whiplash. I seriously felt like I was going to die, a pile of chopped of limbs, crushed bones, and twisted metal. We got down from the roller coaster, each rubbing sore, bruised areas looking very aburido and feeling very confused... was that supposed to be fun?
But like the dozens of times we were made to stare death in the eye that day (Star City presents you with many opportunites to face death, or at least pain), we laughed over it like crazy maniacs and eagerly rushed on to the next painful ride. After all, we came to Star City knowing we weren't going to have a comfortable time. We had fun, in the silly, bizarre, ridiculous way we expected it to be.
Aaah, Star City, Star City. Onli in da Pilipins!
writing class
...ended today. I had a wonderful time sharing with these older women (and one man). It was wonderful hearing each other's distinct, and individual voices, hearing about their lives, discovering a strength that existed in each of them. At first, I was nervous about being the only person below 35 in this class. But I actually enjoyed hearing about the experiences of these older women. I enjoyed hearing about divorce, marriage, having kids, midlife crisis.
Most of all, I feel as if I have established the writer in me. Writing used to be just a thing. I enjoyed it and I started a blog. But it was always my dad, and my sister who were the "real" writers. But now, for the first time, I feel like I have enough confidence to say "I am a writer", and that it is something I would like to be doing for as long as I live.
some last minute things
Ang ganda ng Kill Bill Vol. II. P*tcha!
I have alot of things to say about "Imelda", but I'm too sleepy to write about it now.
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Tuesday, July 20, 2004
much time has passed
Haha, how dramatic! I know I said I'd be away for two weeks, but I can't help it. A week is enough. Besides, I think the inter-net ban is something I will be doing every now and then. It did me alot of good. Amazing what you can accomplish, and what your mind can process without the internet distracting you.
But I am back and in the mood to write about completely random things. First of all, I am surprised and also strangely touched at how so many people out there knew my site was turning 1! That is incredible! I had no idea anyone followed this blog so closely. How funny.
I'm going to give my site a late birthday gift...a new template. Coming soon!
As I was saying, I was able to accomplish alot of things while I was gone, such as discovering that I can write poetry (c/o my writing class), driving around QC with my engine dying only once (and only while I was parking), a 5-day Davao trip, two semi-skinny dips in the ocean, a shopping trip, and many more exciting, little adventures that I found more fullfilling than spending a day at the computer.
davao!
I went on a five-day trip to Davao to be with my cousins. I love Davao. I used to go there every summer and it's filled with delicious childhood memories. I'm not into describing every detail of thr trip, but I've got loads of pictures!
We visited the Ayala's private island, Buena Vista. It is the island of my childhood. Many sweet, golden summers were spent there. It is my Never Never Land. I've stayed away for more than ten years like a prodigal daughter. We had a tender reunion, the island and I. It still knew me after all these years. I was touched. I still recognized it's face even though it had changed greatly.
The island is littered with driftwood. Driftwood is so beautifully poetic. They look battered but wise, worn smooth and beautiful by great tragedies.
I thought this shot looked very dramatic.
This must be my favorite shot. It was taken in the morning when the tide recedes. They look like they're travelling on an ethereal landscape. If you've seen the artwork in Neil Gaiman's "The Dream Hunters", you'll know what I mean.
This me being vain. So what. I like this picture. My cousins took it.
other random thoughts... i'm in a rather lazy mood
I realized with satisfaction the other day that I have grown to love my body so much more than I have within the last ten years. I've never gotten used to my own body. I've never mastered manuevering it. I've never liked it, and have spent much of my life trying to conceal long arms, matchstick legs, knobby knees, indelicate feet. Too long, too skinny, too tall. I felt like a giant praying mantis. I developed a habit of slouching over my teenage years because I was taller than everyone. I have one of those odd bodies that never go unnoticed. People always have something to say about it.
I never got into sports, and I never danced in high school. I didn't want to draw any attention to my body. I felt I was born with an unfortunate combination of imperfections that I had to atone for by hiding myself under baggy clothes, and keeping my movements minimal.
From my growth spurt onwards, I grew up very self-conscious about my proportions. It was tough being a 5 foot, 7.5 inch tall teenager when everyone else has barely hit 5'4". It was tough still being in a trainer bra when everyone else was hitting B on the bra-size scale. It was hard having curly hair in the 90s when long, straight hair was (and still is) all the rage. It's still hard being a size 9 in a country full of small-footed people.
Even in college, I never thought of my body as anything sensual, or womanly. I was convinced I had stopped developing at age 14. I never filled in, or curved out as much as the other girls seemed to. Guys would like me, but I assumed it was because they found me funny, or maybe cute, but not sexy- that was a word I never attached to myself. How can anyone feel sexy in this lanky, awkward, weird ... thing? Some women would say they envied my body because I was thin which really didn't help at all. Whatever, I thought. Every godamn woman is obsessed with being thinner than they already are. They don't know that there's a difference between "thin" and "sexy", and the two should not be equated.
I don't know how I managed to shed the awkwardness of my teenage years. I just know that somehow I have. I've grown to love precisely what I used to hate. Maybe because I no longer follow the ridiculous idea that there is such a thing as a "perfect" body, some kind of prototype were all expected to follow, big and small in the right places. Maybe I just stopped caring. Or maybe it's good to have a boyfriend who never lets you forget that he thinks you're beautiful and natural (thank you, Nin! Hehe). Or it could've been that time when I was in in the nude in a spa in Bali getting a massage, and the female masseuse said afterwards, in a thick accent and broken English, "You have good body". I liked the sound of that, "good body", and it made me think for a long time. It's not a conventionally perfect body, but it's still a good one. She was right! My body is exactly the way it was meant to be. Why wouldn't it be good?
Now, I am happy with what God has given me.
I'm still tall and a tad too skinny, and my limbs are still "freakishly long" (as my friend once described them). But I find that I can carry myself in such a way that gives me a sort of imperial lankiness, a lazy sexiness, an almost ethnic, tribal regality. Awkward grace. Like an Ethiopian queen. I like my lankiness. And I can pull off a mini-skirt better than alot of people.
I'm still not a B-cup, and I still don't have a tiny waste, or a booty I can shake. But despite lack of curves, I am somehow still...soft. Natural. Delicate. And precisely because I don't have humongous breasts, I can wear the skimpiest outfit and still look decent and classy.
My hair is still untameable, and it will never be sleek, and straight, and shiny like in those damned shampoo ads. But I have grown to love how it so audaciously defies convention. My hair is alive, liberated, and is not afraid to flair out and take up space. My curly hair has presence, it can look wild, but also romantic, and in a crowd of 20 straight-haired, rebonded people, mine will stand out.
Maybe sometimes I still joke about how I'm saving up for a future breast-augmentation operation, but I know I'd never, ever change anything. I like my body. It is a good body. Why wouldn't it be?
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Sunday, July 11, 2004
adios for now
I'm imposing a two-week internet ban on myself. There will be no blogging, LJ-ing, or YM-ing, maybe even e-mailing. I spend so much time online everyday that I sometimes feel like my brain is wired to the web, like I have a wi-fi card in my cranium or something. It's resulted in a mind full of noise.
I hear dozens of voices in my head everyday, voices of commenters, voices of friends who update my LJ, voices of other bloggers, people who send me e-mail, Friendster messages (I don't know why I bother to check the damned thing), or chat with me on YM. I think I need a temporary break, just to be able to hear my own voice clearly. I want to know what I think, when I don't read what other people think. I want to see what my thought flow is like without all the mental debris floating around.
I also want to see what I can accomplish with the time I usually spend online chatting with people. I could be doing something new instead of just...waiting.
Also, I've cultivated many relationships online, but I'm always very disappointed to find that I am close to certain people only online and not in real life. I want to see if the quality of my relationships will improve without YM, or LJ, or e-mail.
So if you are any one of my friends, if you want to talk to me, ask me something, telll me something, even if you just want to bug me or tell me a dumb joke, call me. I'll be up for it. What's important is that I know you're making an effort to contact me (instead of just catching me online by chance), and I can actually hear your voice.
So today begins my internet ban. I just might go all the way and make it a music ban too. Music puts alot of noise in my head too. I may just leave my iPod in Nino's custody for a two week period. Adios, readers.
but before that, 1 last entry
I loved, loved, loved, loved, loved every minute of Spider Man 2.
When it comes to these glitzy, hyped-up, effects-laden Hollywood films, I'm very skeptical, and very hard to please. I hate it when Hollywood uses effects to gloss over a crummy storyline, or terrible acting (as in the case of The Matrix... 2 hours of watching Keanu Reeves trying to act. Worst 2 hours of my entire life). When a movie boasts of killer special effects, but is defficient in storyline or characterization (which accounts for about 80% of Hollywood films) I find it very difficult to suspend my disbelief, mostly because my pride prevents me from allowing myself to be fooled, like the rest of the masses, by such a cheap Hollywood trick. I end up poking fun at the entire movie which annoys Nino to death.
But with Spiderman 2, I don't care even if I know Hollywood has put one over me. I want to believe! I want to believe it's real!
The shots alone were absolutely breathtaking, the action-scenes original, and the acting and storyline touching, and the ultra-hot, smouldering, sizzling chemistry between Peter Parker and Mary Jane... one big sigh!
And I cried at that part after Spider Man stops the subway car from falling to it's doom, and the passengers, abandoning all New Yorkan toughness, compassionately retrieve Peter Parker in his most vulnerable state (injured and unmasked), lifting him high above their heads on the pads of their palms like a messiah. "He's just a boy". "He's younger than my own son".
Watching it takes me back to when I was a kid, and I believed that heroes were real.
The world needs more heroes.
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Thursday, July 08, 2004
i can't help it
If you read my dad's blog, and my sister's blog, and my brother's blog, it's all loaded with pics of The Princess.
1 month old! Yippee!
Girls' night out. With Lola, Mommy, and Tita. Who's who? :-p My mom looks like she's 25, especially with her chemo cut!
mr. plaguiarizer is at it again
God. Does Mr. Allan Johnson Pua or Alla Johnson Yan, whatever his name is, have to be told TWICE to stop plaguiarizing my entries? He once copied everything, even making his own variation of my template. Every single one of his entries were mine. He was dealt with and he sent a very remorseful letter calling himself dishonest and a liar for stealing my entries.
But now he's at it again. Except now he only copied two entries on his new blogspot (is that supposed to be some consolation?).
I didn't post his URL before, but now I think I will.
http://clysmusizarebara.blogspot.com
Kakainis.
a tribute
I just finished watching the entire last season of Sex and the City. Oh my god! I cried once during every single episode and I was all choked up by the end of the last one. I love the ending, but I'm so sad that it's over!!! No more new episodes, no more staying up until 4am watching one epsiode after another.
I don't really watch TV and the last series I ever followed religiously was Ghostwriter back in grade 5. Since then, no show has struck me as worth following...until, Sex and the City. It's one of the best, most wittily written shows, and through the years, I've cultivated an almost personal relationship with Carrie, Miranda, Charlotte, and Samantha. There's a bit of each of them in every woman. I've identified with each one of them at one point in time, and watching their 6-year journey into becoming deeper, and more complete human beings makes me feel like I have journied with them in a way.
This is ridiculous. It's only a show. But I love it! God help me.
While I'm crying my eyes out, allow me to reminice about some of my favorite SATC characters (aside from Carrie, Charlotte, Miranda, and Samantha of course):
1) Big- Okay, so he's consistently been a d*ck throughout all 6 seasons, he jerks Carrie around emotionally, he's broken her heart mercilessly more than once, he's insensitive, and too afraid to own up to his feelings and be with the woman he really loves. But he's also done and said the sweetest things for Carrie and...well, they just have that spark, that chemistry, that can't-live-without-each-other kind o' love. And I love how he starts out imperfect and slowly turns into the man Carrie wants him to be. We've all had a Big in our lives. He's so human. I love it.
2) Trey- So he's in his 40s and he still lets his nagging, domineering mother in the bathroom while he's taking a shower. He's ridiculously dense. He's got an erectile dysfunction. He gave Charlotte a cardboard baby (oooh, remember that episode?). But he was always such an elegant gentleman, and even if he and Charlotte were unhappy more often than not, he never meant any harm. He was so charming and he made me laugh.
3) Magda- Old, religious, and prude, I loved the comedic tension between her and Miranda (the time she replaced Miranda's condom stash with a statue of the Virgin Mary), and I loved the simplicity of her character amidst Miranda's American sarcasm. They were a good pair.
4) Steve- Do I have to explain why? He's so...sweeeeeet. And pretty virile for a man with one ball.
5) Aidan- Remember how we all thought he was the perfect man, and how we all wished we had a boyfriend like him, and how we all hated Carrie when she started messing around with Big behind his back?
6) Smith- Every hardened, cynical, non-committal, aging, old woman needs a boyfriend as loyal, undertstanding, and sincere like Smith. Samantha ditched him, to his face, to sleep with Richard in his condo, and Smith waited for her downstairs to make sure she "got home okay". *Melt. And did I mention he's hot?
7) Harry Goldenblatt- My favorite male character in the whole series. He's bald, hairy, flabby, and unrefined. He's repulsive at first, but his character is so honest, unpretentious, and caring that by the end of season 5, you're hooked.
Last but not the least, I'm going to answer the question that SATC fans ask each other all the time: Which one of the four women am I?
Answer: All of them.
Like Charlotte, there's a part of me that's prude, believes in true love, and dreams of finding the one (totally defying my left brain, but hey, at least I am fully aware of it). I want a family, and I think about what my wedding is going to be like every day. Oh, and I intern at an art gallery ('feeling', noh?)
Like Miranda, I can be angsty, cynical, uptight, and be totally devoid of sunshine and charm. I silently brood over what a f*cked up, dysfunctional person I can be when it comes and worry about how I might never be happy. Miranda had to break out of her fortress and allow herself to be weak in order to be happy, and that is what I identify with the most about her character.
Like Carrie, I type on a Mac (ha!), I have curly hair (hahaha!), and can be quite charming when I'm in the mood (which is rare). She always seems to be the most balanced of the four...well not always, but I think I've got that same balance she has.
As for Samantha, well every woman has a Samantha side (or should have one at least). I'm the least like her, but every girl should have a Samantha friend, someone liberated, who says it as it is, never worries, and is loyal all the way.
And that concludes my Sex and the City tribute.
i'm da man!
It is a barren wasteland.
Riddled with fire and ash and dust.
The very air you breathe is a poisonous fume.
This is how Boromir described Mordor in the first LOTR movie. But he might as well have been describing Katipunan Extension. It's been under construction for so long that I can't even remember it without all the excavation. They look like bomb craters, or mass graves, or the pits of hell. All that separates you from it is the flimsy sheet metal they use as partitions in between the road and the diggings. It used to take 15 minutes to drive through Katipunan Extension but now it could take more than 45. They cut down all the trees, and it is a traffic breeding ground, hence making it a barren (treeless) wasteland, riddled with fire, ash and dust, in an atmosphere of noxious car exhaust.
Anyway, my main point is, I drove through Mordor today. I joined the mad hordes, becoming a link in the daily chain of slowmoving bumper-to-bumper traffic. And I conquered it... all on first gear, on a manual. Ladies and gentlemen, I have mastered the delicate art of releasing the gas and clutch correctly. My car no longer stalls, my engine no longer dies from releasing the clutch too soon, or pumping the gas too hard. I have acquired the fine balance. I can do it without even thinking. I also mastered hanging, and realized with surprise that I could now shift gears almost mindlessly (I used to have major trouble feeling the difference between gears 1, 3, and 5)
My instructor, the one who was such an ogre the first time I met him, was pleasantly surprised and asked how I'd improved so much. I didn't have an answer. I don't know how I improved so much either, when I haven't driven in a week. I think it was because I just didn't care anymore and stopped being so cautious about releasing the clutch.
I drove on through Krame, down EDSA, over a 2nd overpass (I did two overpasses today!), down Mindanao to SM North (that is, if I've got my road names right), at the intersection near Congressional Avenue, down Tandang Sora, Down Commonwealth, around Quezon Circle, through UP, around Katipunan, and back to A1 Driving School.
I feel so empowered. And for the first time, my driving evaluation form said "Passed" instead of the usual "Needs Improvement".
I told Conrad afterwards that I had proudly navigated through the bowels of Quezon City. He corrected me and said I had only driven through main roads and changed it to "the main arteries of Quezon City". Fair enough.
I'm a driver babeh! Hear my engine roar.
Guys...do my links come out on my sidebar? I'm not sure if it does.
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Wednesday, July 07, 2004
busily bumming around
I think I'm the busiest unemployed person I know. I still haven't gotten around to making that resume, and looking for that perfect office/ call center job. Who am I kidding? I never will! I can't ever see myself going corporate, and I'm certainly not going to sell my soul to a call center and never see the light of day ever again (no offense to people who do work in corporate jobs or call centers, it's just not my thing that's all).
I can see the question forming in your heads, "So if you don't want to go corporate, what kind of job do you plan to look for then?". The answer is, I don't know either. I plan to go back to school in a year or so anyway. But while I'm on the search for my purpose in life, at least I'm keeping myself busy.
Aside from my art gallery internship and driving, I am also taking a writing workshop, a piano course, and doing art. Other classes are on the horizon but I'm not going to write about them until I'm actually taking them. These are the things I never had time to do back when I was in college juggling subjects and MYX.
I'm doing exactly what I want to do. I'm happy.
speaking of writing class
The work that everyone comes out with is so amazing! I admit I was a little uneasy at first when I saw I was the only person below age 35. I was surrounded by mommies who all seemed to already know each other, so it was like some big reunion. But after hearing them read their work out loud, I realize it's so wonderful to hear about such personally written experiences, and the fact that their all older and marrried makes it even more interesting because I know I will get to where they are one day.
All the same, I'm so nervous about sharing my work with them because they might think I sound young, and... superficial. I know I shouldn't worry about how I sound because it's supposed to be from a personal viewpoint. But still, i don't want to be baring my heart and soul on paper only for them to say something like, "Aah, youth".
Oh, I don't know. I guess I'm afraid they won't take me seriously.
bidyo
Last Sunday we shot my friend Miao's music video for her upcoming hiphop/ R&B EP to be released soon. I filled in for the original lead lady on a moment's notice because she had a hangover and couldn't make it.
I agreed to do it because I've always wanted to be in a music video a la Liv Tyler and Alicia Silverstone back in their Aerosmith days (any rock bands out there who wanna get me as their video girl?! Pick me, pick me!) and also because Miao is giving me some issues of Sandman for a low price in return. That ain't a bad deal at all.
We shot by Palma Hall, and there were these street kids clustering around us the whole afternoon... you know how Pinoys are, they see a camera (or "shooting") and they crowd around and watch. They seemed to recognize me from television but at the same time couldn't really place who I was. They told me I looked like Diana Zubiri (wow, that's a first). I wanted to tell them that there was one way they could be able to tell whether I was really Diana Zubiri or not but I decided to keep my mouth shut.
So we shot the video. I admit, I kinda miss being in front of the camera, even though it was just... a tiny camera. And just like before, I'm terrified of seeing the results. Di ko na lang panonoorin.
the partying continues
While my clean-shaven boyfriend is in Singapore tagging along with his dad and his fellow DEA pals in a series of conferences, I had a wild night of Karaoke last night with my cousins Gogi, Cristina, and Pimee. Pimee is the niece of Cynthia Alexander and Joey Ayala (Haha, I just had to give out that perfectly irrelevant piece of information). Anyway, I mangled my voice on "Forever's Not Enough" which is probably why I'm sick today. I was also forced to sing "Make It Real" by The Jets which always makes me cry. How cheesy.
I love karaoke! It's something I have to do every now and then, to unwind.
paternal instinct
Nino held Ananda for the first time the other day. At the moment of contact, he got all excited and his voice suddenly became high and soft, and he started cooing, and giggling, and rocking the baby back and forth. I've never seen him so gigil over anything. I don't think he was aware of himself at all.
I got a little worried and took the baby back because he was holding it in this weird position. I don't think she minded though because she didn't cry. Everytime he sees the baby in the house he waves at it and starts cooing "helloooooooo". Hahaha!
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Saturday, July 03, 2004
love, adolescence, and software
I met up with one of my favorite people yesterday, Charlene. As always the discussion turned towards heartbreaks past. I think women who are good friends almost always discuss relationships, past and present, when they get together. I don't see guys doing it. I guess it's an effect of having two X chromosomes.
Yesterday, we talked about that moment when, looking back at a past break-up, we realize with a jolt how young, immature, and ignorant we were then. All of a sudden, the person who hurt you, put you through a grueling breakup, and left you for dead in the gutter isn't some big, evil monster anymore. He is taken down from his pedestal and he is all of a sudden just...a boy. It's a shock because this is a person you made such a big deal over once.
I suddenly recalled my own experience of this awakening moment. I was extremely angry at this guy for years. I hated him for so long, that I even found different ways to hate him, and different people to hate him with me. The anger became such a staple in my life that most of the time, I hated him entirely out of habit. My moment came when I accidentally popped in an old video of the two of us taken on my old camcorder when we were still together, and came face-to-face with a moving picture of the two of us looking very... adolescent. He was really skinny and awkward, and his lips were too big for his face (the rest of his features hadn't caught up yet), he had this high school hair cut, and I realized with discomfort that he reminded me very much of my teenage brother. I on the other hand had thicker eyebrows (I hadn't discovered the joys of eyebrow plucking yet), was dressed in clothes I would probably never wear now, and looked very much like my teenage cousin who just graduated from high school.
MY GOD, I thought. We were both so... young! Did we seriously think we were really in love then? All of a sudden, I felt a little silly for being so mad at school boy. Of course, by the time I watched that video, he wasn't a school boy anymore. But the point is, my entire perspective had changed.
And though this realization felt strangely liberating (I now had something else to blame a painful past on), I also felt a certain... sadness. I thought we had shared this great love. But if we were only kids then, does that mean it wasn't even real? Was it true love, or plain, old hormonal imbalance? How can I ever trust myself to know what love is then if I know I'm being betrayed by raging hormones? How can I reduce something that was once so important to me to nothing but...primal instinct? Or a product of youthful ignorance?
All of a sudden, I felt like I had been strangely victimized by own humanity. I had been tricked by the chemicals in my body. I was young, which meant I was extra emotional, and had been betrayed by this. It got even worse. During my 3rd year of studying at a Jesuit institution, where theology teachers try to ingrain in you that feelings are only an illusion of love, and true love is actually an act of the will (read "The Road Less Traveled" by Scott Peck), I felt even more disillusioned and worse, cynical. I became convinced that feelings were false, and that feelings of romantic love were nothing but a cruel trick our genes play on us to get us to multiply. And if feelings were false, then any love in my past was also false, which also meant that I had never truly loved, or been loved. Needless to say, this radical paradigm didn't make me very happy. But I thought it was right. Feelings were a weakness. You musn't let yourself be tricked.
Looking back at my former (radical) stance, I am pleased that I have managed to fine some sort of healthy middle ground. Maybe I grew up. Whatever the case, I feel as if I have somehow managed to reconcile my younger self, the one I cursed for being so gullible, foolish, and weak, with my present self.
True, there's an incredibly large gap between my relationship now, and relationships I had when I was younger. The first time we feel like we truly love someone, our first serious relationship, it's usually so fraught with false idealism, unrealistic expectations, self-centeredness, and is more often than not largely based on kilig. When you're older, you actually feel like you have a choice in the matter of who to fall in love with. Sure feelings are important, and so is attraction, and yes, kilig is important too. But the difference is, feelings are no longer your sole governor, and you can choose a relationship that actually functions in the real world, and not just in theory. We will always effortlessly be attracted to different people. But you choose the one you work well with.
It's like buying a car. When you're young, you want a great car with the works, and you're drawn to fastest, shiniest one. When you're older, you choose a good car, that will run smoothly on the path you're traveling on, and that will get you to the places you want to go without breaking down on you. You don't choose the flashiest car, you choose the right car.
And yet, I still feel it's wrong to consider the relationships of our youth as "bad cars". Imperfect as it may have been, it feels wrong to label it as nothing but one big, stupid mistake. It must still count. We musn't be so hard on ourselves or on our pasts. We don't throw out the baby with the dirty bath water.
Through time, our concepts of what love is change, sometimes for better, sometimes for worse. When I was younger, I believed love to be this way, and that way. Whatever my concept of love was then, that is what I gave away to someone else. Maybe it was a highly flawed concept, but I can't say that my old concept was not love. I like to think of it as an earlier version of the concept I have now. Maybe it was love in pre-evolved form, but it was still love in it's frailty and imperfection. But then again, our concept of love will always be pre-evolved. We will learn, and relearn what love is through out entire lives. It will change and evolve a million times, and yet we will never know what it is. Our concept will always be flawed.
I think I read somewhere that love must be constantly upgraded, like software. You go through so many versions of Love in your life, fixing the bugs, renewing the interface, stripping away all the things that get in the way of being a loving person. Just like how no software is perfect, there will always be bugs. But one thing is for sure, if you refuse to upgrade, refuse to change, the whole system crashes.
I definitely run on a much higher version of love nowadays. I'm not saying it's perfect, or even that it's the final version, but I know it's better. All the same, I'm greatful I went through all those lower versions, bugs and all. It reminds me that I'm continually participating in this great human quest for love.
Blame this post on Charlene.
tipar
I've been partying the past two nights. My cousin Cristina is here from the US and I've been taking her out. We sort of grew up together, and we have pictures as two-year-olds taking a bath together in the tub. I'm so glad she's here!
Last night I had a drunken game of mini-golf. Mini-golf is so much fun. Who cares if I suck. At least I didn't come in last place, thanks to the presence of my brother Mio who took that postion. Nino won. Woohoo. Big surprise. He always wins.
My boyfriend decided to surprise me by shaving off the mustache and goatee he's had for over a year. I was so shocked. I don't even remember what he looks like without facial hair. Wasn't sure if I liked it at first but now I think he's pretty cute. I'm in looooove. We used to call him Machete as a joke but now that he's clean shaven, his new name is Gillete (pronounced to rhyme with his former nickname).
This is Cristina, me, and Trina chilling out at Admit1, Freedom Bar. I don't know why Trina and I automatically put on that face when were in a picture together.
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Friday, July 02, 2004
plug
I made my uncle a Ganesh because he loves elephants and he always treats me to free trips.
He suffered a nasty crack across his chest during firing, but the glazing turned out real well.
Plug: If you want to learn pottery/ polymer clay/ paint ceramics, visit our shop Pottery Exchange at Eastwood Home Center.
Hmm, if the picture is too big, just expand your browser window hehe.
magdadrive ako hanggang baguio!
Or hanggang SM North lang...almost at least. That's how far I went yesterday. :-) Quezon Circle, you are miiiiine!!!
That's all for now.
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