Byebye '09

Today is the last day of 2009. This statement, is of course for the sake of my future self when I read back and wonder what this is all about. Im forgetful that way. This is also for you people who bother to read my musings. You're 40% of the people I want to extend this to. This week last year, I'd been reflecting on what a horrible year 2008 was, full of ill-gotten victories and misdirections. 2009, on the other hand, was straitforward and radical. 2009 saw the best and worst days of my life to date. I lost close family members, through death and estrangement. I found and lost love. I found and lost hope. I've had severe bouts of depression where I couldn't leave my room to even eat for days. I've had days where I felt like I was on top of the world and that nothing could get to me. This is the year I officially stopped being a teenager, when the pressure of adult life and independence actually sunk in. I'd been able to fulfill dreams, I'd had some questions answered, self identity crises resolved, new worlds had been revealed to me (yay WOD and accent movehz!), old things came back to haunt me. I became part of Hastang, to whom I am thankful for the opportunity to be able to perform and write my songs. I'd done things I never thought I would do, or get around to. This year also saw me getting rid of masochism and procrastination (I'm almost there!). I went back to building skills for things I'd dropped long ago, and I earned and learned new skills through exploring interests. My life philosophies found names, and I'm still deciding whether I'm happy that I'm not alone, or pissed that I'm not the one who came up with this shit. I made a lot of mistakes in the process but the mistakes only made the little victories sweeter. There were more downs than ups. But that only made the ups more special by contrast. For all of you who were part of it, for those of you who helped make this year crazy and memorable, I wouldn't have had it any other way. Thanks. Bring on the new year. :)

Beauty Bar Bitches

What was supposedly an adventure by two bored girls turned into a reality check into how unprofessional some people in the service industry can be.

I was window shopping with Nica, looking at sparkly things (she's the shine fetishist, not me), where our whimsy brought us to the makeup department of Rustan's. One thing I like about Testers, is that although the product is expensive as hell, you at least know what you're missing out on. This way, if you really think it's worth it, you come back when sudden windfalls happen. Welcome ladies and gents, to the mind of the Philippine college girl shopper.

After finding the most byutiful lipcolor in the world (Hotwired, NARS, P1300+ T_T), Nica suggested we go to Beauty bars.

Ara: Do they have makeup brushes?
Nica: For testing? I'm not sure, but yeah, probably

This is where the adventure turned funny. I remember how Nica was saying that she loved how the salespeople at Rustan's don't bother you when you're at the make up counter. I was curious to find out how service was like at the other cosmetic shops.

At the beauty bar, we were hovering over random brand sections where they had the testers lined up in front. The difference between some of the testers and sold products were how they were sealed. Some of the testers didn't even have marks on them. We were taking our time, laughing at the weird products (green concealer is apparently for pimples, not aliens. I learned something new today!), when I was having a particularly hard time finding the tester for one of the products (dark eyeshadow), I figured the unsealed box was the tester.

I was taking time trying to open the box, and at one point, I almost asked the girl for help, but it came free. I noticed though, that the salesladies had started hovering over me when I tried to apply the eyeshadow on my lid. I was seriously wondering if I was allowed to put heavy make up with testers or something.

When I was done, one of the (braver?) salesladies came up to me and said that I had touched a sold product. Demmet. I knew I was at fault, problem was, I didn't bring moolah, and I wasn't going to have any til my allowance arrived (which would be tomorrow).

The saleslady left me to talk to the other salesladies, although I knew I was supposed to have to pay for it. I was thinking of leaving something, but I didn't even have an ID on me. All I had was a cellphone, my wallet (with change), a book and a small sketchpad. I'm not a proficient 'artiste', so none of my drawings could've amounted to the damaged product. The saleslady came back several times to tell us she couldn't let us just go, and there was no way they could make it appear as if the product hadn't been touched, and I would have to pay for it.

I don't know why she kept on insisting on this point when I'd never once denied paying for it, I just didn't have the cash atm. I figured I needed to talk to the sales manager to make her understand the situation, so I asked the saleslady to contact the manager for me. She again told me I had to pay for the product and said the manager wouldn't come. I put on a firmer tone, which seemed to change the manager's mind about facing me.

So she did, and pretty much reiterated what the saleslady said, even after I apologized and told her I understood that I'd have to pay for the product. I repeated that I was willing to pay for the product but would only be able to tomorrow when my allowance arrives. I also assured her that I could leave something of mine behind to guarantee that I'd be back. She asked me for my phone, and I hesitated because I was thinking of whether I'd need it for anything between now and when I get my allowance. She then asked me if there was anyone I could call to borrow from. It seems I wasn't being allowed to leave until that damn thing got paid. I told her there was noone I could bother for that sort of thing (I was already humiliated enough), and just handed my cellphone over. Madame manager told me there was no way they could be convinced that I'd return. I was pissed. I was humiliated. I was being treated like a common thief, and the manager was worried I wouldn't return for my P1,500 worth cellphone that I used to communicate with my mother for a P670 eyeshadow pot.

If this is how they treat potential customers, they have no business being in business. Nica mentioned later, that this had happened to her before at Metro Gaisano, but the attending saleslady just shrugged it off, saying they'd just use the opened product as a tester. It was like the Beauty Bar salesladies were bitter about me randomly trying on the products, being my dorky, scruffy self.

Their body language totally said, "You keep trying stuff on, are you even buying? You don't look like a customer.", and later, while the whole drama was playing out, it was almost spitefully, "Oh! Guess what! You're suddenly a customer!"

Well Ayala Beauty Bar, too bad it had to turn out this way, I would've wanted to become a recurring customer. But now, I don't even see why you deserve any when you're suspicious of anyone who browses through your stuff.

Buhbye Persephone II

To all those concerned, I lost my phone today. That big bulky china phone. It was in my bag when I went to sleep on the boat, and it wasn't there when I woke up. I turned my stuff topsy turvy looking for it.

I hated that phone. Because it was so inconvenient to use. The keypad didn't work, so the only way I could text was through the touchscreen. Did I mention I lost my stylus a while ago?

The only redeeming values of that phone was the fact that the sound recorder worked like a charm; and that the speakers were relatively loud.

The TV; the camera; and the radio were relatively useless to me.

The sucky part is that I lose all the messages; the sound files for new songs; the pictures; the scandalous videos(!!!) and all the numbers.

Meh. Oh well.

~~~

In other news, I'm back in Biliran. I've been told there were horses. I'm being picked on by a grandaunt for being skinny, and I realize this isn't where one goes to get a vacation. Well not for me at least.

I'm on a vacation because I'm tired of the world again. There's very little motivating me at the moment but the future. And the future's always painfully out of arm's reach. I can think of a few things that I would like to have within arm's reach but the only thing near enough at the moment is a song. One more sad song is one too many, but it's expression.

Maybe I do need the extra girth. My heart feels so full it's about to burst. And everybody wants my body but nobody wants my heart.

Those who claim to want my heart don't really know what they're asking for.

And what's the point of asking for something that has somebody else's name on it?

The theme of the day: Selling Out

Someone invited me to sing a demo of a song they were selling to an upcoming pop star today. I picked up a cousin on the way, when we started talking about pop stars. Ate Jean was talking about how Gretchen Espina (Pinoy Idol winner/elementary classmate) resurfaced on local tv just recently with a very different face from last time. I was saying I wouldn't be surprised if she actually had her face done for showbiz, no matter how much you like your own face, if general consensus doesn't agree, it's better to get surgery. It'd been a long time since I last talked to ate Jean, who gave me a look and told me she'd never imagined that kind of sentiment to come from stubborn, naturalist wittle me.

We got to Bigfoot, where the songwriter/composer duo rented a studio. It was the first time I'd done a recording, and even though it wasn't my song, the experience was exciting in itself. As soon as I heard the song, my face fell. It was a fast pop song. The song was basically about how hot the singer was, and that any boy who wanted to get with her should leave their shit at the door. The lulz part was that as a guide, Ben, the writer, recorded the song with his voice first. To me, it sounded very flamboyantly gay. I let the lulz help me through the ordeal. The song was meant for someone with a higher pitched voice, and it was a strain for me to sing, so that whenever I went flat or sharp, I whinced. Jaye, the Count-composer, told me not to worry, since they could easily edit my voice to adjust the sharps and flats and make it sound cleaner.

Ara: O.O you mean...
Ben: Oh you should hear Miley Cyrus before editing, there's really nothing there.

And here I was, pressured to get voice lessons because my voice didn't sound record-perfect, when it turns out half of the people on the airwaves owe their perfection to Cake Walk.

So I sold out. I sang their pop teen song and went home. In the taxi, ate Jean (who had been baptized "Diane" by Ben) asked me if I could still remember the song. I don't. My system flushed it out of me as soon as it could. Heeheehee

Burnt Out

I'm all for self exploration, and for the past years, that's all I've ever been doing. In the beginning of the year, I'd been semi-lectured by a professor about not having decided on a specialization. But it's not like I haven't tried. I'd been trying to get a feel for which communication field I was more attuned to and I can't quite get exactly which field I'd do best in. In fact, I'm starting to feel as if I don't have what it takes to be the best in anything.

Growing up, I'd wanted to be many things, but before everything, I wanted to be a painter. Then I wanted to be a cartoonist, and was always drawings pictures with stories. I'd started painting oil portraits at 7.

And then life happened. I couldn't afford art materials anymore and could only afford pencils. I stopped painting, learned editorial cartooning, but even then, life was still getting to me. There were more critics than support, and the constant nagging by almost everyone that art would get you hungry and that comfort meant a job behind a desk and a steady pay made me give up.

When I was choosing a course, my options were architecture, psychology and masscomm. When people from high school would ask why I didn't take up fine arts, I'd say there wasn't any money in it.

Isn't it unfortunate when you find out that the option you closed off would have been better than the seemingly better option at the time? I'm finishing masscomm in a year and a half, and it's not because I was bad at majors or anything. It's just that I feel as if I'd just learned the basics to everything and not enough to be intermediate at anything. Or maybe my standards are too high.

In arts on the other hand, given the proper training, I could have focused on conceptual art. Drawing, at the very least, is skills-based. You tell me what to draw and I'll draw it for you. As long as I know how to draw. But I dropped my pencil a long time ago. I'd stopped rabidly drawing from days on end as if that was the only thing I could do. I figured if I had taken up an art course, I could have gone back. The pressure from a school environment would have prompted me to hone my skills, inspiration or no, the way warmages are taught to wear armor while casting spells. The weight would be difficult in the beginning, but it would breed discipline.

But then again, would doing Concept Art for a living pay? My art-school dean friend says it does. As long as you were willing to please the customer (learning to sell your skills and not your soul). And as long as you don't hope for work in this country, because we're going hungry, and the people actually earning here are in the business of the living and the dead. It's too late to find out if I have any leanings towards medical courses, I'm not about to become an embalmer, and there's too much competition in the food business. Blah, everything's a gamble, but that's another story.

But what are my other options? Or what options do I still really have now that independence is breathing down my neck?

There's also film, but even that seems bleak. The Philippines' movie scene is terribly dark. If you aren't making easy to swallow-escapist movies, you go nowhere. Im an escapist, but Im told my concepts are too cerebral for the masses. And film is a collaborative medium. If you can't work with people, you're doomed. I'm semi antisocial. And my experiences with Bida Complex, though far too little for me to actually judge, kinda tell me Im going to find it difficult to adjust.

I feel blind. I know there are difficulties whatever path I choose, but one can't help wanting to figure out where one would least suck, and try hard enough NOT to suck, so that in the end, you can say that you at least tried your best, despite your best not being enough.

These are times I curse my artistic forebearers and wish I'd been more left-brained.

Fly Pancakes and a potentially popped vein

I have not slept a wink. My right eye looks like it's popped a vein, and it may have. And now that it's been mentioned, it's beginning to manifest. Ouch.

I was up late, drawn into a world of demons and angels, of gods and demigods, of esoteric banality (blashpemy isn't necessarily synonymous. Isn't that why I enjoy Gaiman?). And it's usually due to being sucked into fantasy worlds that I lose sleep. Even with my eyes closed.

I find it a little disconcerting how comfortable I am in pastiche. How I can easily settle with suspesion of disbelief because I am shown things familiar to me - my own meanderings. I am aware of the pull of seduction. But I don't doubt my lack of it any longer. I nitpick tho. Why are his secondary heroes always either fierce women or spineless dipshits? Why are his usual main protagonists self-serving assholes? I also can't help but notice that in Gaiman's stories, domestic tragedies are usually irrelevant, unless you were some immortal's spit borne.

Which leads me back to the reason for my escapism, from the fire back to the pan.

To my own little domestic tragedy and a realization. We let our tragedies slick off our shiny little bodies or e turn out lives upside down for conclusion. It's all we have. Aren't we all just flies after all?

And Im a fly pancake, if you've ever seen one.

(I'm on volume 56 of Lucifer)

The Proverbial Popped Cherry (Outpost, first gig journal)

I'm going to try telling it in reverse.

I woke up at noon today. We have another gig later this evening at UP, Prequel to Cook Out. We're not playing for Cook Out itself tho.

I went to bed at 2am, after coming from McDo escario to hang out with my gaming buddies, CORPSE, post-gig.

Sam went home at 1am, c/o Jan, who completely missed the show. Isorayt Jan, you get first dibs on the video once it's uploaded :) And there'll be other gigs.

At 12 midnight, Karl, cousin/cam holder/ and all around amazing kid went home to go beddybye. Anton arrived, who also completely missed the show. He caught up at McDo where Baisac and Jan turned paparazzi.

At 11ish, we played. It was so much different from playing for Dama. Like I'd told Sam earlier that night, Dama felt like Theater. This, on the other hand, felt like rock and roll.

The last song, If I can, was written by Ate Yan Redoble, some 8 years ago, but ti was only recently when I became the Hastang banshee that it had been arranged the way it is now. it is far shorter than the original version, and not as heart-rending. Imma be posting it one of these days so that you know what I mean. I loved performing it. I hope we accomplish something like this again.

The second to the last song was Ode, based off a poem I had written late last year (The Ode to the Half Moon) The chorus was written in a couple of weeks ago, after Gaw gave me riffs for it.

The 4th song was Taming of the Shrew. When we were making this one, we had meant to just turn another one of my poems into a song, but the words didnt fit the riffs. Guile and Gaw prolly shit melody every day it wouldnt matter to them, but I liked the riffs too much to throw them away. The verses were done in an hour, and the chorus came to me a day after, also in an hour. This song just came together so fast it was unbelievable. Playing it was just fun. xD

The third song was a cover of Stone Temple Pilot's Vasoline. The song was more relaxing on my part (no pressure on the vocal chords at all), but I really liked the underlying meaning. I guess everyone gets those days when you feel like a trapped fly. So much for wings and sth. Oh well.

The second was an older original, When Misery Speaks, which was set lower than the original key to accomodate my voice. When i first auditioned for Hastang, they made me learn two pre-recorded original songs of theirs. The other was Oblivion, and I was free to choose whatever I wanted from their website. I chose When Misery Speaks because it had a lot of promise.

The first was a cover of Audioslave's Cochise, my original audition piece for Hastang. I have to admit that I knew very little about Hastang. I admittedly knew near nothing about the local band scene, but I'd wanted to play Cochise before, back when I was still with Dama. On the phone with Boss Mark for the first time, I remember him stopping short after I asked them if I could sing Cochise. Then he laughed and said yes. Much later, I found out they were big Audioslave fans, and that they'd always wanted to do music much like Audioslave, except their old vocalist couldn't do Rock and Roll.

We were supposed to be third to play. A mix up happened with the emcee, who introduced us second. But what the heck. We started playing.

Outpost was almost packed when we got there, I'm sure, mostly with Missing Filemon and Sheila and the Insects fans. There were a couple of familiar faces, and a sea of people who made me feel... to put it simply... young.

Before heading to the outpost, I spent the entire day in bed, sporadically logging on to read webcomics and check mail.

Because the world is round, it turns me on

Over Persian food and yogurt last night, I put my life into perspective. I rehashed what was worth mulling over and what was worth letting slip if I don't want to further fuss up life.

Today in math class, I couldn't pay attention to what the teacher was talking about, so I played a game with myself. I made a little ball in my mind, of all the things I was mulling over, made it a little ball, and let it fall out the window.

And now I know how to make parabolas and circles. I'm fine.

In fact I was so fine I consumed most of the grande I was sharing with Eds Pax and Pangs. I wrote it out and let whatever remained go.

Afterwards I was lucid and so much better. I also managed to write a new song. Imaginary ewoks and silent "friends" be damned.

Speaking of friends, I'm friends with Epot again. We caught up a bit. Turns out he had still been reading my private blog a couple of months ago, so I didn't have to talk much, which was great. He talked about how he'd patched things up with his family, but was enjoying independence too much to go back to living with them. He asked about old friends, talked about work, geekery, this and that...

And then Eds finished a new song stanza and Pangs and Epot started talking warhammer. I wandered off to find coffee to sober up.

And if all goes well tomorrow, Ill manage to patch things up with my family as well. Kapoy na'g emo emo.

which reminds me, that Anton reminded me last night that I haven't been really talking about the Outpost gig.

So to those who dunno, I'm the new Hastang banshee. We're playing for the technical first time tomorrow at the Outpost, at around 10pm with Missing Filemon, Sheila and the Insects, Happy Hours, and Julia. See you when I see you (given the lights don't blind me) ^_^

The Strange Hair Day

The day started off well enough. I'd gotten money someone owed me, with which I bought a shirt a friend designed, which turned out to be the very last one, and on top of that, I'd managed to make a costume prop out of random stuff I bought at the mall. I'd reminded the girl I'd rented a wig from that morning that I was using it that night instead of yesterday like I'd told her when we last saw each other, so I asked if I could get it. Apparently, she hadn't taken it from the girl who rented it before me yet. Later, she texted that the girl couldn't be reached.

This lead to a series of unanswered phone calls, phones being shut off, weird text messages, hurried jeepney rides, would-have-been taxi rides, a potentially empty wallet, etc etc etc

I needed the wig for a shoot I was doing. I'd already paid for the wig, excited that I didn't have to cut my hair (that I'd been growing so paintakingly for several months).

But by 3pm, both renter AND rentee turned their phones off and I was left extremely frustrated and angry and left with no other choice than to cut my hair. I was thinking, if you want something done properly, there are things you have to give up.

Calltime was at 5pm, so I went off to ayala to find a hairdresser who could do the hairstyle. It was one suited for straight hair. I had wavy poofy hair, and I needed to know what sort of temporary treatment my hair would have to undergo to get the hairstyle I wanted. Most salons had waitlists, except for David's. So off I went, to wait for the stylist they called Mr. Collins (or something that began with a "c" and sounded english). The dude was bald and asian, and he started talking to me in a strange accent in english, so i thought he couldve been Singaporean or something non-filipino, like Bridges' stylist. So I responded in english. I told him I wanted a duck tail at the back, and bangs that framed my face.

He didn't understand what I meant. He suggested I get a semi-rebond. When I said I wasn't getting one, he frowned and walked off. Another hairdresser came up to me and said we could just set my hair for the meantime, and then cut it the way I wanted, etc etc. I said okay, and sat down. Mr C came back to cut my bangs, and then left.

I was waiting for him to come back to do the ducktail. But he didn't. I asked the attendant about it when Mr C came back, insisting in tagalog that my hair was curly, there was no way he could cut my hair short etc etc etc.

We had a little argument in the store, where he started speaking Cebuano. If you're a hairdresser and you're reading this, please don't be condescending to your customers, and if you don't understand what they want, try to talk to them about it instead of pretending as if you do.

I left in a huff, refusing their offer for a shampoo, went to the parlor across the street from my boarding house, and got my hair done exactly the way it should have looked at half the price David's would have asked.

It was of course, one thing to have the hair styled and ironed out, and I was still afraid the hair would turn out into a nightmare once the wax was off. After the shoot was over, I was at a friend's house for a party he threw his daughter. I washed my hair, dried it and let them take pichurs.

I think it looks great. Eat that Mr C :P

Too High To Care (Updharma Down Concert inspired)

"our sweetest songs are our saddest" - Percy Bysse Shelley

"the most universal thing in the world isn't love, but heartbreak" - Armi Millare, keyboards/vocals of Up Dharma Down, August 1, 2009 (not verbatum)

~~~

I was feeling lazy today, a bit chipper, but better than I'd been in a while. I was reading through facebook messages, one of which was from my cousin, Karl, who asked me if I was planning to go to the Updharmadown concert at ayala. Unfortunately, the concert had already started by the time I read the message. I was bent on hearing them at Handuraw tho, and I figured I'd at least be able to sit if I went early, compared to having to squeeze with the rest of the mall.

So I began my so-called "camp out" at 5pm. The concert was at 9. I spent the time by playing sims.

I am not a fangirl. I barely remember details about bands, like their members' names, what sort of personal hells they were going through to produce this and that song, etc etc. When I say I am a fan, I say it because I dig something. And I've digged Updharmadown ever since I first heard them.

I have to admit that personally, it's the vocals that got me hooked. It's not just that she has amazing control, but the quality of her voice as well. But vocals can only go so far (no matter how beautiful). Whoever makes their music is a real artist. If the vibe and music of the band didn't complement her singing perfectly, I wouldn't be this dumbstruck (I'm obviously not thinking this through). Nor might I have braved the odd looks from patrons for playing sims at a restaurant with the absence of a party/sidekick.

At 7, people started pouring in. A couple of bands were setting up, soundchecking and stuff. A band called the Undercover grasshoppers went first. They had a female vocalist, who did her own lead guitars. Cool. Initially, she sounded a bit Paramore-ish. The feeling sort of waned after the 2nd song.

The next band called themselves "Rescue A Hero". They brought in a synth, which raised my brow a bit. They soundchecked with it, which made me think they were actually using it. But they played their entire line up without ever using it. For shame. Music was okay, if you like pop, and if the off-key singing at times doesn't get to you.

Then Ian Zafra. Yes Ian Zafra. Some girl behind me screamed to make him get off the stage to make way for UdD. 'How rude' I thought, as I continued my solitaire game. (-_-;; speak for yourself)

And then he was gone, and we waited for what seemed like a gazillion years before UdD started their soundcheck. There were a few announcements over some cars that were blocking the driveway or something. By this time, I had shut down Felix and had just realized that the place was packed. I was wondering out loud how the vocalist would be able to pass. She came out at the kitchen, heralded by raised cellphones and digicams, all trying to take shots of her. She climbed over a banister to get to the stage. She asked for a bottle of water, read out announcements about cars being towed, and then a few minutes after 12 midnight, she began singing.

And then I died and went to heaven. Except there was only one angel. Who squinted her eyes and gritted her teeth every time she released a vibratto. But it was fine. She was still pretty. I couldn't take my eyes off her. Yay for being able to get a chair close to the stage xD

She was very composed, almost never made eye contact with the crowd, and spoke very little. She appealed to me no way any pompous "rock star" could because her voice alone had enough personality to swallow you whole and make you want to turn gay. Or something like that.

When she played "Oo", the audience of mostly girls started singing with her (including me). They played a couple of songs that I admittedly have never heard, but instantly fell in love with.

At 1:10, I left. I didn't wait for the band to finish their last song. I didn't wait til she could sign me an autograph or anything. I'd just seen the most inspiring performance of my entire life (so far. The last one was a ballet at the CCP when I was 7), and I was so giddy it almost felt criminal.

I need a mindfuck/ wanted, roleplayers

School's boring again. I want something for my brain to screw around with lest I go on mental ulcer. I propose a Nobilis game.

Nobilis is a roleplaying game. This is how it works, according to wikipedia: the player characters are "Sovereign Powers" called the Nobilis; each Noble is the personification of an abstract concept or class of things such as Time, Death, cars, or communication. Unlike most role-playing games, Nobilis does not use dice or other random elements to determine the outcome of characters' actions, but instead uses a Karma-based system for task resolution.

Anyone can participate. Just pick a concept/ideology you want to embody. Here's a guide to making a character: http://www.mygurps.com/nobilis/characters.html

If you're interested, email me your character concept @ mutangpusa@gmail.com. I'll send you a link to the handbook if you want to DL it.

Game will be conducted through email.

Bida Complex Shooting (It's a Wrap xD)

As much as I'd like to talk of the experience in detail, I'm too exhausted to blog. Imma try to remember what to discuss while it's still fresh. I hate my memory.

Day 1 was the most exhausting day evar. The schedule was extremely hectic. Yay for Uncle Mulong who lent us his car; and yay for cars that turn into dollies. Yay for the Tudtuds who had to put up with a bunch of noisy college students who thought they were filmmakers. Hehehe. Lol for expressions that get imbedded into the dialogue (Lololololol). Guada claimed that if one closed their eyes and listened to the direction and instructions flying about, it was almost as if we were at the set of a porn movie. Dumdumdumdum. At one point, for a "facial shot", DP, in her blue stockings and cute little shorts stood over Guada to shoot her face. And yes, we have pictures of that ;)

Day 2, everyone was late, and I couldn't blame them given we went home at almost 2am the previous day. One of the PAs told us his nosebleeding from the previous night turned out to be leukemia. On the way to USJR in Colon, Producer told us the theater was in Basak, not Colon. As the taxi detoured towards the new location, he called back and told us to go to Colon. April fooled we were. We were able to drag in a bunch of high school students to extra as the audience. Later, to light up a street for a mugging scene, one of the PAs did monkey magic by climbing over her roof to let an extension cable through her window for our lightbox. We chose that particular street because not many vehicles passed by. Within 20 minutes of shooting, taxis kept passing by, so we'd have to stop til they were out. The crew noticed that the same taxis were passing by, as well as the same groups of people. Same thing happened when we transferred to Nick's irl house's corner to shoot the money shot (*wink wink*).

This is unrelated to production, but I got news that one of my mom's brothers had died from a cardiac arrest that morning. I think it should be sad for someone to die on April Fool's Day.

Day 3 was lax in contrast with the previous days. We shot at UP, so after taking shots of Sir Anton's class where Nick got his face bruised up by 3 pretty girls (masochist much), we took filler shots around campus. Yay for the Tornillas for bringing pizza xD. We moved to Colon to take more fillers. Outside Tuxedo pension, we almost couldn't shoot outside because a horde of YFC ILC participants were checking in. We ended early because Guada had RL matters to attend to.

Day 4 was full of happy accidents. This was the day we were to shoot everything we couldn't for the previous days. We went back to UP for dialogue scenes. DP had left, since it turns out she still had an exam to take on Saturday, so cinematog was left to me and Producer. After UP, we went hunting the bowels of Jones for the location of the "movie house". It kinda took us a while before we found the Enovlink Training Center. Then we went back to UP to take more fillers, and then to Talamban for the supposedly hardest scene in the movie. Surprisingly, it only took about 15 hours, instead of the 2 hours I had imagined it would take. My list of movie magic cheats is growing. xD. We did the Haunted house scene, shot the manananggal, and travelled back to Lahug to hunt for the next outdoor scene location. Everyone was exhausted, so to save time, we were stopping at a shed to shoot a taxi scene. Unfortunately, there weren't any passing taxis to hire. When we finally got one, Guada and I got in the taxi to shoot. Suddenly, what seemed like a guild of men in blue outfits with acronyms on their uniforms were surrounding us. The crast and crew were caught off guard, so off guard I wasn't able to capture it on tape. I thought we were going to jail. The Mugger still had Guada's knife, and Nick was already taking his shirt off and showing the police that his nipples were harmless. As soona as they saw me with the camera, they left. lulz. I thought they were CITOM in darker uniforms. Producer said they were something more sinister...
We moved back to Nick's irl house for the last (and most important) scene. As soon as people got on the sofa, they all started snoozing. I let them sleep while I reviewed the tapes. Then it was time to shoot.

Amazingly, it actually started raining, in the rain scene. Happiest accident right there xD

We ended at 3am.

Turning Epic

In barely 2 weeks, I'll be in Malapascua with the family, since one of my cousin's celebrating his birthday a day before mine, and he lives in Manila where the beach is a distant dream. So much for locking myself up for the day. In the following weeks, I'll be too busy filming my thesis to be able to contemplate on what turning 2 decades older means for me.

It'll no longer be just about farming mobs in the field anymore. If ever, the monsters will only be bigger, the hurdles more brutal, but it'll take more than just chance and charm to get through. Chance will become an imaginary friend, charm will no longer be default, and comfort will become a luxury. The great part about growing up is that options expand. The hard part is that I can't just lie in bed when I'm tired of the world because I can no longer expect anyone to put food on my table/cook/clean for me anymore.

In a few weeks, I'll be working on my driver's license. In a few months, I'll be mulling over car expenses. In a year, I'll be worrying about paychecks, or if all goes according to plan, I'll be worrying about what sort of income-generating-gimmick to pull off. In a few years, if I don't end up in a nuthouse, I'll have formed a nest of sorts, with partner and child or sans both. I'll be well on my way towards middle life crisis. Etc etc etc...

And there's no stopping time, and there's no way I can help it.

But it doesn't mean I can't enjoy the ride either. Tweenies, here I come.

I'd like to turn this into a graphic novel: (A History of Locus Inverness; a repost)

Inverness in Oil is the only painting the late Giovanni Belcinni ever worked on. He started working on it in his late 20's. He died before he was able to complete it. His four sons all tried finishing it, but couldn't seem to find out how to duplicate or even parallel their father's style. Three of them died before the fourth figured out what paint his father used for the skies. Human blood. The fourth religiously followed his father's pattern of using the blood of drunken prostitutes to make his solution. The painting was magnificent. The youngest Belcinni son was found pale as a ghost in his father's studio the morning the paint dried.

Death count: 34. (4 sons, 1 father, 29 women)

The painting was shipped from place to place, first to the home of the Belcinni's art patron, whose family died of an unknown disease in the week that the Painting graced their living room hall. Then the servants followed their masters to the grave. The last to go was the cook, who took the painting to a priest.

Death count: 14 (1 mother, 1 father, 2 daughters, 1 son, 1 butler, 2 maid servants, 2 gardeners, 3 pageboys, 1 cook)

The Monastery closed after 48 years.

The painting was by then picked up by a couple of teenagers who heard it was cursed. But there was nobody alive to tell them that.

Death count: 48 (44 nuns, 2 mother superiors, 2 priests)

A total of a hundred deaths in a hundred years.
Right Hugin?
Yes Munin.

Kasi ganito nga daw kami magchill

Kasi late akong dumating sa exam ko kanina kasi inumaga akong nagbasa nung readings, putragis, kalahati lang nasagot ko, sabaw pa utak ng lola mo.

Wala akong magawa, kaya nakibuntot nalang ako kay pangs. buti pa siya, may nagawa pa sa buhay niya. Pinag-usapan namin yung BC, yung pagdadagdag ng mga eksena, yung paglalagay ng mga goons, yung paglalagay ng green screen para sa mga 3d na aswang, etc.

Sa huli, sa school din kami napadpad, nag-iisip ng pwedeng magawa. Naisip naming mag L4D. Tinawagan ko yung mga uwak na kalaro ko at nakausap kong gusto ding makalaro. Nabitbit namin si Karl at Faith sa Ge-Cube sa may USC; at nagmistulang mga rebelde sa karagatan ng mga naglalaro ng DoTA. Bahala kayo sa mga buhay nyo, masayang suimigaw basta nakakatakot ang tugtog.

Pagkatapos ng dalawang larong umabot ng isa't kalahating oras na pinuno ng sigaw ni Faith, nagkoro na ang mga tiyan, at nagsilikas na kami upang makakain ng hapunan. Sabi ni Pangs, sitsit daw ng sitsit yung mga nagdodota para tumahimik kami. Hindi namin napansin kasi sumisigaw din sila.

Nangimbita pa kasi pinsan ni Faith na pumunta kaming Outpost, at ako din ang nagpilit na magpunta kami, kaya napadpad kaming lahat dun. Reggae daw. Chill.

Pagdating dun, sumakit lang ulo ko sa dami ng tao. Pakiramdam ko tuloy, sumabak kami sa isang misyon na puro horde at smokers ang kalaban. Ang masaklap, wala kaming dalang baril. Bwiset.

A Couple of Dreams in a Single Night

I had a weird dream, where
we visited a Joker/A Jack who had
a house like a canopy
Open in the midst of a garden
A walled aquarium
That looked like a brook
And a lot of strange pets;
One bat that looked like a puppy
And a cat that looked like a hyena

He used to have a birdhouse, but that story isn't for you

The Anthill

In a mountain was a family
of a King, his first
family, and his second family.
His first wife died, and his baby
disguised, so that when the second
wife came, she did not recognize
the baby as the crown princess

The baby had a betrothed,
who was imprisoned by the new queen
as she demanded he wed her own daughter
a huge ugly thing

He resisted, not for memory of his betrothed
But because he fell sick at the sight of
the new princess

Meanwhile the baby grew up in her
father's household as a servant
For her father had no power

But the servants spoke of the princess
As the heiress, and the queen feared
So she searched for the princess' wherabouts
Not knowing the child princess saw her
doing her magic, looking for the real heir

The real princess saw, but she did not
understand; for she herself didnt know who
she really was; Instead she went to school; made
lists for her class of things they should
be investigating; went to the concerts to fawn at
boys from the high school below their hillock
And thought unprincess-like thoughts


This mountain community lived by a road; used
by monsters who sent oiled slaves up the mountains -
Treants, to do their bidding

This treant, as it seemed, was female, so that
when she arrived to the top of the mountain;
her masters were displeased, so they sent her down carelessly
meaning for her to die; because the line of masters only sent up;
not back down

So halfway, she went on the same adventure she took upwards
Passing by a small brook with sweet water; and ending up in a lake
within a univerCity

At the univerCity is a small coffee shop; which is unlike any of our own
They have kilns with which one can cook one's own coffee and bread
And the coffee is roughened with milk from a seed; and a little dew is tossed in
So that the coffee tastes more like tea than coffee; and the water is from the
sweet tasting brook

And the univerCity is a cacophony of elements;

A woman and what seems to be a baby kissing

and it is revealed that the baby is a mountain-side native (for they are a short
stock and all look like human children); her lover

~~~

This is me trying to right my dreams down immediately after dreaming them; the mountain people in my dream were hobbit-like; and the treants had two forms: real uprooted trees; and strange monsters who looked like the aliens from that movie where Sigourney Weaver was bald.

Bida Complex Updates

No more Rome again. Turns out he has a school tour on the shooting dates. Hahay.

Also, does anyone have a nice house we can use as Guada's "mansion"? All we need are a fancy dining room and a fancy room.

Bida Complex; Meeting The Cast (for documentation purposes)

What was originally a file exchange session with Nica turned into a cast meet up. Lol.

The dude I got to play Nick previously turned out to be too stiff beside Guada. And Nick's supposed to be the laid back one, so I had to look for another one. Turns out, Nichole knew a guy all this time and just never considered him til the last minute. Desperation is wonderful sometimes.

The guy's name is Carlo Alonso. Nica told me to look his friendster up, and I wasn't really getting anything cept that yes, he was tall and dorky looking, until I saw one particular picture. It was of the Tin Man from the Witches of Oz disaster a couple years back (2007), and I remember that he was one of the few things I liked about that play. I did a little bit more research and found out his sarcastic lines were all ad libbed (win!!!). Nica also mentioned that he could pull off Asshole because he already was one. I was sold. I PMed him right away and asked Ate Chai for back up. This morning, he confirmed, saying he was very interested. For some reason, Nica didn't want me to tell him what part she was playing in the production.

So the Nick problem was only partly solved. I had to meet him irl and I needed to see him and Nica together.

As for Rome, I got Mr Cebu 2008 candidate Bassanio Causin Jr. He's never acted for an indie, but since he passed the only requirement for this role (looking good enough to eat right Nica?), he was in.

Bass said he was free that afternoon, and since I was going out to meet Nica at Coffee Dream anyway, I told him to meet us there.

He showed up smelling prettier than Nica and me (naulaw ko), but he made up for it by being very unassuming. He had to leave to go to class tho, leaving me and Nica waiting for Carlo (who said he'd catch up at the last minute).

Carlo arrived, and he turned out very easy to talk to. He easily figured out the psychological framework for the character. He even had the nuances figured out, which was cool, since I didn't have to spoonfeed anymore. We just hung out, transferred outside when it got darker and cooler outside, and just talked. Nica and Carlo were easily Guada and Nick (love-hate relationship much XD), and they even did on the spot improvs of their scripts. They're both witty, so it was great.

Pangs caught up, and we all ended up just talking and talking, ending up going for grub at the corner carenderia. After sitting at the balcony for a while, the boys went home.

Also, a bunch of friends have agreed to play minor roles (watch out for Anton and Heno, hehehe). I still haven't gotten anyone to play the moms tho, and these roles are proving to be the hardest to fill out.

LF: people to work on Bida Complex for peanuts

I needs me a crew T_T

I'll be shooting from March 31 to April 3.

All I need from you is your time, your common sense, and your bodies (lulz).

If interested, PM me here.

Of love lost and peanut butter

Dear Nica,

I don't really know how to tell you this, our romance is over. I think I realized it when I tripped on peanut butter in your car and I saw you pull the clothes off my boyfriend. I'm sure you're cowardly enough to understand that we're related. I'm returning your love letters to me to you, but I'll keep your glass eye as a memory. You should also know that I am better off without you and the apartment building is on fire.

warm tingly sensations,
Ara

Here's how you do it:
Dear (someone you recently talked to),
I don't really know how to tell you this,(1). I think I realized it (2)(3) and I saw you (4)(5). I'm sure you're (6) enough to understand (7). I'm returning (8) to you, but I'll keep (9) as a memory. You should also know that I (10) and (11).

(12),
Name


1) What's the color of your shirt?
Blue - I'm in love with your cat
Red - Our affair is over
White - I’m joining the Convent
Black -Our romance is over
Green- Our socks don't match
Grey - You're a leprechaun
Yellow - I'm selling myself for candy
Pink - Your nostrils are insulting
Brown - The mafia wants you
No shirt - Purple hedgehogs want to destroy you
Other -I dislike your eyelashes

2) Which is your birth month?
January - That night you picked your nose
February -When I quoted Forrest Gump
March - When your dwarf bit me
April - When I tripped on peanut butter
May - When I threw up in your sock drawer
June - When you put cuffs on me
July – When I saw the purple monkey
August - When you smacked my ass
September - Last year when you peed your pants
October - When we skinny dipped in the bathtub
November - When your dog humped my leg
December - When I finally changed my underwear

3) Which food do you prefer?
Tacos - In your apartment
Chicken- In your car
Pasta - Outside of your office
Hamburgers - Under the bus
Salad – As you were eating Kraft Dinner
Lasagna - In your closet
Kebab - With Jean Chrétien
Fish - In a clown suit
Sandwiches - At the Elton John concert
Pizza - At the mental hospital
Hot dog - Under a street light
Annat- With George Bush and Stephen Harper

4) What's the color of your socks?
Yellow - Ignore
Red - Put whipped cream on
Black - Hit on
Blue - Knock out
Purple - Pour syrup on
White - Carve your initials into
Grey - Pull the clothes off
Brown - bit of
Orange - Castrate
Pink - Pull the pants off of
Barefoot - Sit on
Other - Drive over

5) What's the color of your underwear?
Black - My boyfriend
White - My father
Grey – The Catholic Priest
Brown – The Montreal Canadian’s goalie
Purple - My corned beef hash
Red – My knee caps
Blue - My salt-beef bucket
Yellow - My illegitimate child in Ghana
Orange - My Blink 182 cd
Pink – Your ‘My Little Pony’ collection
Other --The elephant in the corner

6) What do you prefer to watch on TV?
One Tree Hill - Senile
Heroes- Frostbitten
Lost - High
Simpsons- Cowardly
The news - Scarred
American Idol - Masochistic
Family Guy - Open
Top Model - Middle-class
Annat -shamed

7) Your mood right now?
Happy - How awful you are
Sad - How boring you are
Bored - That I get turned on only by garbage men
Angry - That your smell makes me vomit
Depressed – That we’re related
Excited - That I may pee my pants
Nervous - The middle-east is planning their revenge on you
Worried - That your Ford sucks
Apathetic - That you need a sex-change
Silly - That I'm allergic to your earlobes
Cuddly - That Santa doesn't exist
Ashamed - That there is no solution to you being a dumb kid
Other - That your driving sucks

8) What's the color of your walls in your bedroom?
White - Your toe ring
Yellow - Your love letters to me
Red - The pictures from Vegas
Black - Your pet rock
Blue - The couch cushions
Green - Your car
Orange - Your false teeth
Brown - Your nose hair clippers
Grey - Our matching snoopy underwear
Purple - Your old New Kids on the Block blanket
Pink - The cut toenails
Other - Your Hannah Montana underwear

9) The first letter of your first name?
A/B - My virginity
C/D - Your photo with the moustache drawn on it
E/F - Your neighbors dog
G/H - The oil tank from your car
I/J - Your left ear
K/L - The results of that blood-sample
M/N - Your glass eye
O/P - My common sense
Q/R - Your mom
S/T - Your collection of butterflies
U/V - Your criminal record
W/X – Your sucide note
Y/Z - Your credit cards

10) The last letter in your last name?
A/B - Love your sweet, sweet ass
C/D - Always will remember the pep talks
E/F -Never will forget that night
G/H – Will not tell the authorites that you stole the whale from the backyard.
I/J – Mocked you behind your back constantly
K/L - Hate your cooking
M/N - Told in my confession today about the moose poaching
O/P - Told my psychiatrist about the bruises
Q/R - Always wanted to break your legs
S/T - Get sick when I think of your feet
U/V - Will try to forget that you broke my heart
W/X - Haven’t showered in a month
Y/Z – am better off without you

11) What do you prefer to drink?
Wine- Our friendship is ruined
Soft drink – I’m off to lead a new life as a lemon
Soda – I will haunt you when I’m reincarnated as an Eskimo
Milk - The apartment building is on fire
Water – I'm scratching my butt as you read this
Cider– I have a passionate interest for mice
Juice – You ruined my attempts at another world war
Mineral/Vitamin water – You should get that embarrassing rash checked
Hot chocolate – Your Cucumber-fetishism is weird
Whiskey - I love Oprah Winfrey
Beer – Thanks for the Cocaine
Other – you should stop picking your nose

12) To which country would you prefer to go on a vacation?
Thailand – Warm tingly sensations
Australia - Best of luck on the sex change
France - Love always
Spain - With tears of sadness
China – You make me sick
Germany – Please don’t hurt me
Japan - Go milk a cow
Greece - Your everlasting enemy
USA - Greetings to your frog Leonard
Egypt – Kiss my butt
England - Go drown yourself

Argao has wifi and zombies

Currently at Argao for STS with Madz. It's interesting to sift through town, gathering information on the culture of the place. It's a completely different adventure, when all you have to guide you are high school natives who drag you off to haunted trees in the middle of the forest to tell you about ghost stories they grew up to.

Because of the nature of our visit, it seemed everything seemingly dreary and dusty came alive. The old hunk of rust in someone's backyard suddenly turned into a link to the dead sugar milling past of a certain barrio; the sleepy town remembered olf family feuds and connections while we took pictures of their homes; the molds hinted that where there were modern houses and gardens, there used to be a sea.

And even while you can clearly picture out what it was like in 19th century Sali-Argaw specially with the way the pueblo looks, the church and park have wifi :D Great compromise I think. I can't keep myself from feeling bad about my own hometown, Biliran, where people prefer to replace ancient and beautiful old houses with cement abominations that have no aesthetic or architectural sense at all.

And at the end of the day, I was pooped and dehydrated and aching all over, but I thought only that this entire town wouldn't be what it is today, if it weren't for horny priests.

Pictures shall be posted later.

(After thought: Fr. Zamora gets around a lot. We also have a Fr. Zamora street back in Naval. And the zombies shall be followed up through pictures later)

Much guilt

ONE RULE
You can only say Guilty or Innocent.

Danced on a table in a bar? – Innocent

Ever told a lie? – Guilty

Had feelings for someone whom you can't have back? - Guilty

Ever kissed someone of the same sex? - Innocent

Kissed a picture? - Guilty

Slept in until 5 PM? - Guilty

Fallen asleep at work/school? - Guilty

Held a snake? - Guilty

Been suspended from school? - Innocent

Worked at a fast food restaurant? - Innocent

Stolen from a store? - Innocent

Been fired from a job? - Innocent

Done something you regret? - Guilty

Laughed until something you were drinking came out your nose? - Guilty

Caught a snowflake on your tongue? - Innocent

Kissed in the rain? - Innocent

Sat on a roof top? - Guilty

Been pushed into a pool with all your clothes on? - Innocent

Shaved your head? - Guilty

Slept naked? - Guilty

Had a boxing membership? - Innocent

Made your boyfriend/girlfriend cry? - Innocent

Been in a band? - Guilty

Shot a gun? - Guilty

Donated blood? - Innocent

Eaten alligator meat? - Innocent

Eaten cheesecake? - Guilty

Loved someone you shouldn't? - Innocent

Have or had a tattoo? - Innocent

Liked someone, but will never tell who? - Innocent

Been too honest? - Guilty

Ruined a surprise? - Guilty

Ate in a restaurant and got really bloated that you cant walk afterwards? - Guilty

Erased someone in your friends list? - Guilty

Dressed in a woman's clothes (if you're a guy) or a man's clothes (if you're a girl)? - Guilty

Joined a pageant? - Guilty

Been told that you're handsome/beautiful by someone who totally meant what they said? - Guilty

Get totally drunk one night and you have an important exam tomorrow morning? - Innocent

A total stranger treat you by paying your jeepney fare? - Guilty

Get totally angry that you cried so hard? - Guilty

~~~
I can explain!!! LOL

25 things before 25

1. Learn how to drive a car - learned how to drive stick shift from my cousin, Kuya Jing early last year with an uncle's broken jeep. The first thing I did behind the wheel was to crash the car to a trash bin
2. Earn $1000
3. Cook a full course meal
4. Sew an outfit myself
5. Write a book
6. Climb a mountain - sometime before last year ended, my mom dragged my lazy ass off the PC chair and brought me across the sea to look for a tree for our house on top of a family friend's mountain.
7. Film an indie flick - I starred in one, as a girl who was trying to break up with her bf for his identical brother before they get into a car accident. But this doesnt count as actually filming one myself. I hope to accomplish this with Bida Complex though.
8. Sell a print on DA
9. Go to Bohol - bought the Tshirt, kissed the tarsier.
10. Pose nude - while looking my worst. I was depressed, lacked sleep, and out of shape. I wonder how the painting's turning out...
11. Organize a surprise party
12. Contribute to Reader's Digest
13. Make the Dean's List - it was one of the most unexpected things. I thought I was failing half of my subjects, but turns out I aced them.
14. LARP - for otaku fest, yes. I was a drow with a skin disease wearing +2 leather
15. Learn how to speak another language - Thank you qwertyuyiop for the frenchie CDs, will play them after school's out.
16. Visit another country
17. See someone die
18. Wath a birthing
19. Perform for theater
20. Get a Dama de Noche album launched
21. Find out about my dad - He died November 7, 2008 at around 5pm. Just found out.
22. Name a baby
23. Talk to one of my fave musicians/authors
24. Paint a mural
25. Get a moondance

Of Toilet Etiquette and Day Spoilers

I woke up this morning to the ranting of my landlady right outside my window, talking about someone who left one of her toilet bowls piss colored. She was saying she suspected someone who was up most of the night, at round midnight to 4am. I, the resident insomniac, was the only suspect.

What I was so pissed (no pun intended) about was the fact that I dont even remember going to the potty to take a leak last night because I'd already done so in the past. And for the past months that I'd hear the landlady rant, I would wonder if there was something wrong with the flush, that if I left the toilet water looking crystal clear enough to drink, it somehow pukes out some of the piss to mix with the water.

In my stay at this house, and in the time I'm up at night, other people use the loo. Why blame me just because I'm up all night?

I wonder why I always end up being blamed for things that people get peeved about. Do I look so sneaky? So cunning? That using the loo and NOT FLUSHING in the middle of the night would seem a crime fit me? Jusko naman. I may be nocturnal but I'm not so evil I would intend to show her yellow. Eugh.

Hasty generalizing bitch. If she thought I was such a delinquent, let's see what she has to say if I did something extreme to the toilet bowl. Like blow the toilet bowl up or killed a small animal over it.

I can barely sleep at night and she steals a couple of hours from my sleep by blaming me for something as inane as forgetting to flush. And this isn't the first time.

I cry justice! I feel like im being set up. The world is unfair. It's so easy to point fingers at those who look the part of the villain. I can't even say who it is either because I'm only ever here when I'm asleep or when I'm on the balcony, leeching off wifi.
...

Ok, did I just say I cry justice?

I makes myself lulz.



But I still feel that if I talked to the landlady about this, I might call her a hasty generalizing bitch. Maybe I'll do that right before I leave this place. I also wonder if I can sue her for stealing a few hours of my sleep.

Bida Complex

Looking for people to portray the following characters:

Rome - Tall, broad shouldered, has kind eyes. Comes from a rich family (high society). Is very charismatic, very sympatico. Stereotypical prince charming. 18-25 y.o.

Nick - Tall, lean body type, strong eyes. Street smart, no nonsense, bad ass without trying. Seems to fit the silent but deadly stereotype, but the only thing deadly about him is his wit. 18-25 y.o.

Minerva - Dignified. Newly widowed. High Society. Very very stressed, but still manages to maintain her poise. Slim. 40-late 40's

Stella - Sarcastic. Classy. Princess. Minerva's daughter. 16-20 y.o.

If interested, please contact me/email me at 09163968495/mute_laughter89@yahoo.com or mutangpusa@gmail.com or PM me here. I'll spill the details only if you're interested. The movie will be entitled "Bida Complex"

~~~

I am terribly desperate. I found someone to play Guada, and she is cute. The problem is that I can't find cute guys to match. The script's a mix of english and bisaya.

Red Paper: It's not like we chose to be painted such.

Gusto ka magbutang ug issues sa tug-ani?

Write for us, so that I dont keep on receiving news articles from the same people, from the same sources. Natural ra nga mao nay mogawas nga mga klase nga balita kay people with vested interests ra man ang molihok sa paper.

Walay ganahan mageffort kung wala silay makuha. I try to be as objective as possible with assignments and stuff. I give out assignments about stuff we pick up from all around school, but nobody meets deadlines, much less end up submitting material. It takes so much time to cajole people into writing about stuff and I'm getting the impression that they merely nod to make me go away. You want to hear a sad story? One supposed writer sent me an article that was a corrupt file, CC'd to someone else. She said the file was her article. I tried asking her about where the article went and she said she'd talk to me about it one of these days. I never heard from her again.

My number is posted all over school. I am so harrass-worthy and yet I never hear from you supposed caring individuals. We're not even running application schemes for people just to work for the paper. We want to make the most of taxpayers' money but nobody cares enough to write about relevant school issues. Same reason why we havent been coming out with issues for the past months. What do you want me to do? Write everything by myself? Lol. I seriously cannot edit myself objectively. I dont even have working assistant editors for crying out loud.

Rey, It's refreshing that you actually care about what the paper says. I also notice that you like writing about school politics. Why don't you write for us? Seriously, all you had to do was ask. I'll even put a column up for you. But I seriously need more news writers. Labi na nga hapit nang election. But I do hope you dont keep writing about color coding in your columns. I noticed your blog entries tend to be formulaic that way. Although LIGAYA would like to be featured sometimes, them being all rainbow colored and sth.

On the headline: It was an irony that we wanted to bring out. It's interesting that a chairperson would go against the stand of the body he represents. Ironies make good headlines. Way personalay, sa maigo lang. Besides, there was another article on his stand on the same page as that article, written also by Idyll because she wrote the first one. I deliberately told her to go get the story a day before we gave it to the publishers because I received her story the previous day pa.

Sayang bitaw ang taxes noh? And if I hadn't published, I'd be hearing the same line.

25 (tagged for the enth time)

Because answering tags are a great way to distract oneself

1. I like fluffy pink things at night. Makes me think of cribs.

2. I will leech wifi off anywhere I can find it

3. I name my stuff just so that I get attached to them

4. I hate getting cold feet

5. My parents used to sell houses, and when they showed houses off, my brother and I tagged along. I loved the smell of freshly painted walls so much that I'd sneak in new houses with my friends around the neighborhood just to get a whiff.

6. I like watching people. Just as long as they don't interact with me

7. I get a kick out of fear

8. I am a frustrated artist.

9. My element is metal. I am slow to settle, but hard to remove once I'm settled.

10. I'm like a vampire when it comes to invitations. I only come in when I'm invited, and afterwards, I get used to coming in. Beware.

11. I can only sleep straight for 5 hours. Even if I tried sleeping afterwards, I wake up right away

12. I'm one of those people who wish to travel the world

13. I only ever play charisma based characters because their powers are usually based on power of personality (AKA roleplaying abilities)

14. My luck is fucked up. When I exert effort on things, they usually turn into epic failures. But when I don't and just let things be, they come after me and smother me

15. I eat when I'm sad. The food doesn't cheer me up, it just fills up the empty feeling.

16. I understand things I have trouble explaining.

17. I don't like talking to myself. But I do.

18. According to a friend, yellow light makes me purdy. White light doesnt become me.

19. I don't like malls much. They seldom have what I want, and there's nothing productive to do

20. I suck at names.

21. When I work, I prefer to work alone then ask people for crit, then go back to the storyboard

22. I feel extremely happy when I accomplish things I don't usually do

23. If I had my way with things, I'd make my own clothes. But that's expensive and I don't have much money :(

24. I like exploring new places, new things, new stuff. When I like what I discover, I obsess over it

25. I hate Philippine TV

I never even got to say goodbye

Abbu's really dead. Rashed (one of my half brothers) and I were emailing. He said abbu had a stroke last Eia when he visited our sister, Rehana's house in Singapore and has been suffering for a couple of months before he died. He said they buried him the very next day. He didn't even tell me the exact date abbu died.

And all this time I thought I wouldn't care less. I accepted the possibility of him being dead while subconsciously hoping that tucked somewhere, my father was still alive and kicking, frowning, even at death's face. But now he's finally, officially dead, taken away by the Gods of Sulfur and Ash.

All those months, he was in Singapore, while I kept putting off trying to contact him, afraid he might reject me, afraid he didn't care anymore. I loved him so much. I'm still in denial that I'll never be able to hug his huge tummy; that I'll never be able to smell the smoke in his breath (or at least his stench, his familiar fuzzy stench because he stopped smoking); that I'll never be able to see his brows furrow or hear him laugh again, because I'd almost forgotten what his voice sounds like. Shit. I don't remember how his voice sounds like anymore. I'll know it when I hear it, but I'll never hear it anymore.

He used to put me to sleep with tales of giants. He said giants liked to eat up little girls who didn't sleep at night, but if a giant did come, he'd protect me from them, or hoist little me up his shoulders to become a giant myself. I believed him, because when I was on his shoulders, I could touch the ceiling. And I knew a lot of people were scared of him.

I'll never be able to know if he still thought of me and my brother again. I'll never be able to know if he wondered how we were doing, because I wondered constantly. I wondered how his lungs were treating him. I wondered if he would hate me if I performed onstage like he warned me against. I wonder how he'd feel if he knew I was no longer Christian. I wondered how he'd feel if he knew I stopped painting, or how he'd feel if he saw my recent drawings. I wondered what he'd feel if he found out I'd turned out a lot like him. I wondered if he'd love me, or despise me. I wondered and I feared, and I thought of him constantly, and yet at the end of the day I'd tuck him at the back of my mind and wallow in unnecesary clutter because I was afraid he didn't care.

And now I'll never know.

Apathy (UP Tug-Ani Editorial for January-February 2009 issue)

The other day, while waiting for class, I overheard someone talk about her priorities. She was basically talking about how we've supposedly come to UP first and foremost to study, which was why nobody can blame her if she paid more attention to her academic standing than advocacy posters on the bulletin board. In my mind, I was thinking “What a waste of youth”.

I refuse to believe we Upians are all just content with being above the rest in terms of opportunities because of inherent and acquired intellect. Is it arrogance or optimism to think we are above society and her ills? We are never exempt, unfortunately. We will always be victims of ill-made decisions, whether born of stupidity or out of selfishness.

Maybe you do recognize this, and believe that you're going to be a better contributor to society by finishing your studies first and getting a good headstart at your career. But what happens to the time you spent locked up in your academic ivory tower? None of us truly knows what the future holds. Despite all efforts to stay afloat the academic tide, some of us succumb to external forces (RIP April Mae Sumaylo)

Consider that the average 2nd year UP college student is much better equipped than some of the catalysts of society (i.e. barangay officials). At 18, an individual is considered physically and mentally capable of providing for himself. Considering that the kind of education we get at UP, though not extremely amazing, is still much better than what most get. We've had two years of intellectual stimulation that most of us have never encountered (and sadly might never again encounter) in 17 years of existence. We are exposed to enough “knowledge” to correct ourselves when we're not making sense. If the exposure isn't enough, most of us have at least gone through Philo 1 to know how logic works.

Youth grants us a perspective many lose once they start seeing the world through tired, jaded eyes. Youth grants us the luxury of time. Even though studentry is a responsibility as it is, what it leads to are even bigger responsibilities. Bigger commitments. You won't be able to speak your mind when you're under a boss who thinks otherwise. Trust me, not everyone is as open minded as your UP Hum teacher. You are no longer just a slave to the uno, you become a slave to bills; to your spouse and your children; to your properties; to your bank account; etc etc.

Today is the opportune moment to do what you can for your society, or never. If radicality is too much for you, you can at least pick up the papers and start with being aware with what's going on around you. At least if you decide not to give a rat's ass about society, it is a learned decision and not an ignorant one.

UP Cebu, No ID No Entry nao?!? NUUUUUUUUUUUUU

It's not that I'm going to be having a hard time going to school. I'm one of the few people I know who actually still has her first year ID. But the idea that UP is no longer free for all who risk the intimidation of being in premier university territory (or pass the UPCAT lang) strikes me as ironic and unfair.

I will reserve my rant for the Tug Ani Editorial for the Feb issue. The January issue's coming out on Tuesday for everyone who's been asking. Don't get your panties in a knot. It's finally coming out. It will be noted though that it looks as if I only have one writer. And no photographers. And very few artists. And no other editors cept for me and the lay-out artist, and a friend who helps damage control. So before you complain about there not being an issue, ask yourself if there are people willing to work for the school paper, specially because it doesn't pay. To critics: If you can do a better job, why don't you come help? My number is literally everywhere anyway.

25 things to do before 25

1.)Learn how to drive a car
2.)Earn $1000 (Just to know how it feels like)
3.)Cook a full course meal
4.)Learn how to sew (tried and failed. My fingers refuse to weild the needle)
5.)Write a book
6.)Climb a mountain
7.)Film an indie flick
8.)Sell a print on DA (lulz)
9.)Go to Bohol
10.)Pose nude
11.)Organize a surprise party (also tried and failed. twice.)
12.)Contribute to Reader's Digest
13.)Make the Dean's list (ala lang)
14.)LARP
15.)Learn how to speak another language
16.)Visit another country
17.)See someone die
18.)Watch a birthing
19.)Perform onstage for theater
20.)Have an album launched for my band, Dama de Noche

I figured there's only about 4 months left before I turn 20, and I really want to get to do these things. The problem is that I didn't have enough time, so I'll be extending my personal deadline, and the list.

21.)Find out what happened to my dad - I just met one of the most iconic teachers in UP - Sir Espiritu, who is for once, not addicted to Japanese culture, but to Middle Eastern culture. He gave me bangles today after giving me a contribution for Tug Ani, and said he was going to Bangladesh this April. I asked him if he could find my dad for me (lol). If not, I think I'll just send a letter through him or something.

22.)Name a baby (It doesn't have to be mine) - I keep on coming up with names for babies, so I name my stuff instead.

23.)Talk to one of my favorite authors/musicians - Just to know if I prefer their personalities or their stuff.

24.)Paint a mural - It just seems like one of those things that can be easily done, but I never get around to doing. Maybe I'll paint a wall in my house (once it's finished)

25.)Get a moondance - I was thinking of doing something crazy like skinnydipping, or praying to the moon naked and stuff, but that's too old school. And this is inspired by something a friend said sometime ago about moondances. I shuts up nao.

Marr(i)ed

http://jasonmagbanua.com/blog/2008/12/15/issa-litton-and-tiger-garrido-episode-vii/

In a ym convo, a friend made me realize people my age were going to get hitched in this decade.

The capitalist in me started thinking about the possibility of organizing people's weddings for them. :D Hint hint at everyone who's planning to get hitched :D

Slave Tickets

Slave Tickets make sad gifts. People who have nothing to give (or are too lazy to go christmas shopping) tend to give out stuff like these because they have too much time on their hands.

One girl decided to make a hundred slave tickets, good for an hour each, and distributed them to a hundred friends and relatives.

Most of these people decided to throw their tickets away, figuring they probably wouldn't have enough time to redeem those tickets. Some of these people figured the tickets would probably come useful one of these days, and kept the tickets.

Everyone forgot about the tickets. Even the girl.

One day, many years later, the girl, now a woman, was on her way to work when the ground below her shook. The cement tile on the walkway infront of her caved in and made way for a hole. Out of it rose a hooded creature stinking of sulfur.

The first thing she noticed was it's cloven feet. The next thing was the slip of paper it held out to her.

Stolen from Kuya Justin

I am bored

I've never taken a dump on the highway, and i wish I will never stoop so low

I will never stick to something just because of an idea

I wish I had the energy to act on my guilt

The craziest thing to think about while your life is ebbing away is what your undies look like. >.<

The silliest thing just happened yesterday. Some dude got shot on the hips. Makes me think of people breaking out in song to Shakira's "Hips Don't Lie"

Why do emo rants start with "why"? Why kuya Justin why?

I love the way things smoke swirls and swivels as if there's an invisible hand dictating it to go where it goes O__O

I hate doing something without any idea why

I cannot stand on stilts. my balance sucks. Hahaha

I will always wonder what the ghost boy tried to tell me in my dream

I have a broken cellphone

I need to go to the bathroom

I still want socks but keep losing them.

I fear that beat they've been using in almost every blonde popstar song lately. I think it has brain sapping properties.

I kissed a girl and i liked it?

I might try not to bite off more than i can chew

I used to chew crackers, spit them out, make them into tiny balls, then swallow them again

2008 Awards

I'm glad 2008 was over. Despite a few high points, it was mostly sucky for me. It was filled with missed opportunities, mediocre attempts, failures, ill-gotten victories, betrayal, etc etc. For most of the year, I felt dead, acted insensitively, failed to deliver when I was expected to, etc etc.

But this year, I met a few cool people; Established a few things that I hope will continue; and learned a couple of things.

1.) DRINKING BUDDY OF THE YEAR
- Zyra
2) LIFETIME SERVICE AWARD (longest friend/s)?
- Wahahaha, Pangs (interesting story btw)
3) NEWCOMER AWARD - COOLEST NEWEST FRIEND?
- Anton :P He's the only guy I know who has a clit. That should count for cool.
4) HIGH POINT OF THE YEAR?
- secret :P
5) BEST HOLIDAY?
- I think Xmas was fine
6) YOUR SONG FOR 2008?
- "So What" - Pink
7) MOVIE FOR 2008?
- Dark Knight
8) WHO DID YOU SPEND VALENTINES WITH?
- my classmates, in the middle of an academic storm.
9) BEST RELATIONSHIP?
- Sam. I wuv you mantha, even tho you're catty and prickly and wont tell me why right away. :P
10) WHAT WERE YOU IN HALLOWEEN?
- a confused red ridinghood.
11) RESTAURANT OF THE YEAR?
- Vibe's :D
12) BOOK OF THE YEAR?
- Brother Todd
13) BEST DECISION MADE THIS YEAR?
- To Stop Minding Certain Things
14) WHAT ARE YOUR PLANS FOR NEXT YEAR?
- none that I'd like to think about too much. I might disappoint myself if they dont push through.
15) MOST STUPID IDEA WHEN DRUNK?
- Sing a Pussycat Dolls Song
16) TV SHOW OF THE YEAR?
- Dexter
17) MOST LOYAL FRIEND?
- Pangs..(are you?)
18) BIGGEST CHANGE OF THE YEAR?
- my outlook on certain things
20) BEST VACATION?
- Manila