Earthquakes

I woke up to an earthquake this morning. It was particularly rough, and a crucifix fell on my head. It actually broke in two.

We have mild earthquakes frequently in Biliran, so it wasn't anything new. Everytime we had earthquakes, I'd be thinking it'd be stronger than the last. Everytime we had earthquakes, I'd be thinking I was going to die. And I wouldn't think of anything else.

I had a conversation with Jay, my high school bestfriend, the other day about Joshua's death. She asked me if I was prepared to die.

I don't like studying for exams because I think if I listened to class, the knowledge I gathered would be enough to pull me through. Same as death. Whether I am going anywhere after this, I don't have to study for it. All I have to do for now is pay attention in class. All I have to do now is live life to the fullest and stop wondering about what'll happen when I die. Because after death, I won't care how many people go to my funeral. Because I won't be there.

The worst the quake did was muddle up the water. I have no idea what the water has, but it's turned white. I was only able to bathe this morning because there was enough water from last night. We've been drinking softdrinks all day.

Goodbye Joshua

I’ll be doing my biggest fan a belated favor by letting him share the vanity of seeing their name online: Joshua D. Bueno (Feb7,1989-Oct18,2007). I wonder if the dead browse the web though.

He was battling with Leukemia while I was having imaginary nose bleeding from all my finals work. The bodily fluid I shed the day I received the news included no tears.

I simply wasn’t in the mood to mourn. I thought I had already mourned his loss 3 years ago when we had graduated from high school. I developed the habit of crying over people during separations and forgetting all about them afterwards. He was one of the last to wish me well then. He said I’d get far. But then again, I did say he was my biggest fan. He always went out of his way to give me encouragement and praise. I never really took him seriously. I always regarded him as a delusional bumpkin (whom I suspected was too shy to go out of the closet) just because he thought I was worth anything. As far as I was concerned, it was the last time I’d see the boy. I was right.

As soon as I started college, I tried forgetting everything. I changed my number, my friendster account, my name. I tried fitting into a new life without the supposed dead. I couldn’t prevent meeting old classmates, and hearing about how others were doing. I heard Bueno was a constant Dean’s Lister, besides being active in the student council of St Paul’s Business School in Tacloban. I also heard he had developed a fashion sense and had found himself a beauty queen of a girlfriend (there goes my closet queen theory).

On October 16, I received a message from my mother that Bueno was in the hospital. They were apparently discussing me. My mom told me about the pride in his voice when he talked about what he had been hearing about me. It was as if he was seeing me on the road of success as he predicted. He didn’t know how off course I was. My mom suggested I call him. But I was running low on load, and I had a hundred other excuses.

It wasn’t real to me until I actually saw his corpse and talked to his mom. Our eyes brimmed with tears as she recounted how optimistic he was despite the odds. He’d accept any amount his parents would give him. He had no vices, and even to the very end, he told his mother to keep on fighting, because like chess, even if you lose a piece, you can still win.

I realized he never became a different person. He would always be my bumpkin friend, and the least I could have done was to call him up while he was still alive. We never really know what we have until it is lost. And I never knew how much I really cared until it dawned upon me that I’d never hear his cheesy lines anymore, and know that he meant every word.

Goodbye Joshua. Though I never told you, you could’ve been larger than life.

The weekend that was (an excuse to update)

I realize it's been a while since I last posted. Well, I had an eventful weekend

Last friday, Faith came to visit; It was ate Mina's 21st bday; and we were filming for a docu on Cebuano Nightlife... any drunks willing to be interviewed?

Faith visited against her father's wishes. Admirable for a young lady to have spunk, and though I should be worried that her father threatened me for being a bad influence, I'm jealous that she was able to do something as exhilerating as running away (I beg to differ, she didn't need any influencing).

I would have gone back to interview my friends instead, but they warned me not to come. They claimed there was something I did not want to see. So I stayed in Paseo, wondering if I was missing a great video opportunity.

Saturday night was weird. I went "bar-hopping" with Rachelle and Chloe. Before the bar-hopping, I had dinner at Jollibee and got tricked into singing an MYMP song >.<...

The night that followed has made me come to the conclusion that all barhopping males are stupid and just looking for an easy lay, while the girls are so desperate for companionship, they'd actually settle for the easy lay. maybe I'm just saying this cause all our interviewees were incoherent males who asked for our numbers.

The things I do for class...

Stating the obvious

The internet has spawned a new kind of vanity and self possession. As I mentioned a few entries back, publication is a heady experience. Blogs and the like are blatant forms of self advertisement. So we dweebs who have no RL (real lives) spend most of our time on the internet trying to convince other people (or ourselves) that we're cool. We write about our lives as if everyday was a thrilling episode

And here come the other spawn of the internet. The critics who laugh at "petty attempts" at self expression. Those who aren't afraid to express their opinion. And like the dweebs who tend to be overkill on what they're about, these smart alecks find a playground to unleash their inner bullies.

And once we've defined something about ourselves and are aware of the definition, we try to go above the definition.

So there you have it. I'm tired of being a dweeb and a smart ass. I'm tired of being a push-over and tired of being mean.

The Perfect Reason for Headache

I saw Battle Royale earlier in the day, c/o of RJ's computer. I mourn for my poor brain cells. There were so many unnecessary scenes and inconsistencies. It was a poor excuse for violence in cute uniforms.

We watched Witches of Oz, expecting to see something close to the Broadway musical, Wicked. We were disappointed. I wasted three-days worth of allowance for it. The redeeming factors of it were Ate Chai's performance and the Tin Man's lines. It was Battle Royale all over again. But this time, there was no excuse. I'm going to go hungry for three days for nothing.

The girl who played Dorothy was bigger than most of the cast. SO much for being a "little girl". Her voice was not strong enough for stage. Her attempt at an accent made most of what she was saying incomprehensible, and she kept flipping her bangs over the side. She was wearing lip gloss and blue eyeshadow. Emo Lolita was too composed to be a little child.

As for the rest of the cast, The Hip Hopper Scarecrow who kept going "Yo" didn't rap AT ALL. The Punk Tin Man was, well, heartless (yay). The Rasta Lion was cute at least (made me think of Pooh) and the minor rollers were so obviously choreographed.

It's amazing how they got so many sponsors and shit for them to play at SM City. The sound system wasn't good and all the publicity I was ever aware of was that from the rumor mill. At one point, one of my friends mentioned I should have had Pregenesis produced. That's how bad Witches of Oz was. I'm sorry ate Chai. You were good. But a sprinkling of talents does not save an entire production. I believe your talents (Te Chai and the few other talented people in the production) were wasted on that play.

I have a few questions though:

What the hell did the production committee do to the money?

What half wit wrote the script?

Why did they attempt to impersonate Elvis Presley?

Why didn't he sing an Elvis song?

And what's with the trinket?

Why did Dorothy sing "Home"? It's too mature and musically out of place for the story.

Why'd they even make a yellow brick road when it made them look as if they were walking up and down a platform?

And why'd they get something that looked as if it came from a Taxidermist's shop to play Toto when he didn't even have any significant participation in the story?!?

I'm not even dissing the Glinda that sounded like Glinda from Wicked minus the funniness that made her interesting anymore or the fact that we weren't warned that it was going to be for a younger audience (more like from 3-9 y.o). But then the children would probably go to sleep.

Gimme Something That Rhymes With Eeks

I am an escapist. But I do not drown myself in mind numbing spoon feeding from the boob tube. I roleplay.



But not that way.

Philippine Speculative Fiction Vol.3

From Dean Alfar:

I am now accepting submissions of short fiction pieces for consideration for the anthology "Philippine Speculative Fiction Vol.3".

Speculative fiction is the literature of wonder that spans the genres of fantasy, science fiction, horror and magic realism or falls into the cracks in-between.

1. Only works of speculative fiction will be considered for publication. As works of the imagination, the theme is open and free.

2. Stories must cater to an adult sensibility. However, if you have a Young Adult story that is particularly well-written, send it in.

3. Stories must be written in English.

4. Stories must be authored by Filipinos or those of Philippine ancestry.

5. Preference will be given to original unpublished stories, but previously published stories will also be considered. In the case of previously published material, kindly include the title of the publishing entity and the publication date. Kindly state also in your cover letter that you have the permission, if necessary, from the original publishing entity to republish your work.

6. First time authors are welcome to submit. In the first two volumes, there was a good mix of established and new authors. Good stories trump literary credentials anytime.

7. No multiple submissions. Each author may submit only one story for consideration.

8. Each story’s word count must be no fewer than 2,500 words and no more than 5,000 words.

9. All submissions must be in Rich Text Format (.rtf – save the document as .rft on your word processor) and attached to an email to this address: dean@kestrelimc.com. Submissions received in any other format will be deleted, unread.

10. The subject of your email must read: PSF3 Submission: (title) (word count); where (title) is replaced by the title of your short story, without the parentheses, and (word count) is the word count of your story, without the parentheses. For example - PSF 3 Submission: How My Uncle Brought Home A Diwata 4500.

11. All submissions must be accompanied by a cover letter that includes your name, brief bio, contact information, previous publications (if any).

12. Deadline for submissions is September 15, 2007. After that date, final choices will be made and letters of acceptance or regret sent out via email.

13. Target publishing date is December 2007/January 2008.

14. Compensation for selected stories will be 2 contributor’s copies of the published anthology as well as a share in aggregrate royalties.

Kindly help spread the word. Feel free to cut and paste or link to this on your blogs or e-groups.

Thanks,

Dean Francis Alfar
Online Source: http://www.filipinowriter.com/philippine-speculative-fiction-vol-3

~~~

It sounds interesting enough...

MS Paint

The most ancient of digital art software is still alive and kicking. But does anybody still use it AT ALL?!?



apparently they still do.

When my father first introduced me to a computer, I was 4 or 5, and he said it was going to be the most amazing contraption in the world. Everything that seemed worthwhile to me at the time lay in art, so I asked "But can you draw with it?". And he introduced me to MS Paint.

Ever since then, if I wasn't in my room playing with dolls or covering every blank surface with my drawings (to the horror of my mother and the maids), I was in front of the computer, trying to draw with the mouse.

In elementary, I got a little better. I made themed drawings of my cousins (though they barely looked anything LIKE my cousins, made them into wallpapers, and played with themes to match the wallpapers. My brother's favorite color at the time was red and his theme looked like a furnace.



Digital art is booming. And its roots are decaying.

"Use Me"

I know I'm boring. I bore myself to death.

How I wish I weren't so convenient. I wish people actually sought me out for myself and not because of what I could do.

But I'm not really very interesting company. I can't talk about issues because I rarely read the news, I forget a lot and I confuse people with my "explanations". What a poor mass comm student I make. The only sense I make is in song, and I don't really want to do anything about it. I can't even talk about the masters of music. I barely know the details. I am amazed at people who know the full history and breadth of such issues. And then there's the vanity (I keep a blog don't I? which means I talk to myself a lot, and like to keep track of my selfish musings, enough proof of my vanity.) I'd be the perfect recluse.

The trouble is that I'm lonely. So I look for people to fill in the void. Unfortunately for me, when I look for them, I never find them. I'm there when I'm needed. Sure. And when I'm not, I might as well dissappear into the shadows (assuming it were possible).

And nobody wants to be around whiny insecure kids who have a tendency towards emo rambling. I am convinced that I have a sticky on my forehead that says "USE ME" and it is only invisible to me.

Cook Out is tonight!!!

We're playing again, defending champions so to speak, but I don't want to think about it. Too much pressure on the vocal chords you see :)

I hope I don't forget to move about the stage again... Im losing my voice...

Killing time and fairytales

I live in fairytales too much

In the mornings I'm Beauty and The Beast rolled into one. Most of the time there's more of the beast though.

During class I'm Scheherazade, making up new stories to fill my notebook to bide away the sleepiness. No notebook and I'm Sleeping Beauty.

After class I'm Rip Van Winkle, catching up on lost sleep and waking up to find out the world revolved without me and much has happened. I fell asleep while reading a book and dreamt about big fat rabbits running for senator or something, and woke up to see Heno talking to Gary. No wonder the rabbit sounded familiar.

Whoever came up with the phrase "killing time" forgot that "time waits for no one" and "nobody is time's master".

~~~

I got saved from my math exam tomorrow. Thank God for mundane holidays that just pop out now and then as wonderful surprises. I'm meeting my first years tomorrow for an ukay session :D

This isn't a review. It's just a rant

I just finished Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows last night, and I couldn't help but think of Philippine politics. The measures Voldemort took to ensure the whole wizarding community was under his command. The exclusion of muggle borns from entering Hogwarts, the abuse of the rights for magical creatures like Elves and Goblins, the dissappearance of those who prompted to fight back, or those known to be in the Order of the Phoenix, the oppression of students who joined Dumbledore's Army... it all sounded too familiar.

The way Rowlings wrote of the whole muggle/pureblood thing, I could't help but think about TOFI. Voldemort's reign promised all purebloods the priveledges of magical education, while mudbloods would be excluded from what used to be an option to everyone who had the potential to do magic.

And that was just the top of my list of parallelisms.

Some part of the book was a little absurd (the part where Harry decides to die), a little dissappointing (when Harry talks to Dumbledore in his mind, that was obviously put there to justify Harry not dying), and the epilogue was very very very unsatisfying.

What I'm tring to say is that I practically grew up with Harry, so what does he end up as after 6 years at Hogwarts and all the stuff he's learned? Does he become an auror? Does he end up as a Muggle doctor or a quidditch captain? So what if he ends up with Ginny? We knew that already! How come all his children are named after other people, and don't even have unique second names and such? What happens to Teddy? Is he a werewolf too? What about Ron and Hermione? We already know they lived in the muggle world, but what as? And Luna? And George?

Maybe the ending might have been more interesting had Harry died.

Singing for nothing

This weekend was crazy. We had gigs for both Saturday and Sunday, the first being in FMJ for Andres' Revolusongs, the second being in CICC for Lantugi's VMDC (Visayas Mindanao Debate Championship).

We were late to both because of the lack of money for transportation. At least my horoscope was right about that. Money went out my pocket like water out of a canvas bag. Very bad.

The Revolusongs gig started really early, and when we got there at 9, we were made the second to the last band to play. And we thought the night had just begun.

We got there while a screamo band was playing. The music was fine, although the vocalist sounded like Kuya Epot, and me thinks even the prince of imps could have done better.

The next band was a Paramore rip off who did Misery Business like everybody else. They were good. A good copy though. I wish people would stop covering Paramore, it's starting to get annoying.

I realized I did move like a guy, so I wore pants to lessen the chances of looking like a drag queen. I wore red lipstick and realized it looks better than black lipstick on me. Woot. Zyra said I looked like an early-millennium Madonna. Char. The red lipstick minimized the chances of me looking like a mime too.

We played 4 songs, Paint it Black, Baby Doll, Sleeping Beauty and Lakas Tama. I felt confident about moving a bit, so I tried to move around as much as possible. Lola, I need a choreographer.

After the gig, Zy said that the moment we faced the audience, half the guys in the audience straightened their backs. I still spoke like a guy though. But when I started singing, everything was right in the world, even thought ate Chloe insists we made a lot of mistakes, nobody seemed to mind.

Then we headed for the place beside Tableya to eat. We ended up ordering a couple of beers too. The party was composed of yours truly, Ate Chloe, Ate Kim, Zyra, Kuya Epot, Ate Joan, Bang2 and Ernest (Pol sci 2nd year, classmate ni Zy).

It turns out they brought Ernest along to serve as my new object of affection, but sparks were flying in other directions. Bang and Ernest hit it off well, spending most of the night talking to each other. Kuya Epot was busy with his phone, and we were all trying to piss him by screaming stuff for the person on the other line (which in this case is of course, Faith) to hear.

Example:
"Pot, tagay na nimo" -the screamer remembers that Faith's a drinker too and that we really ARE drinking which throws off the purpose of trying to mislead.c/o anonymous
"Pot, ah, ah, ah (orgasmic cries)"c/o ate Joan
"Pot, I thought you were going to have my baby?!?"c/o ate Kim

At one point, the streaming music was "I'll Be" by Edwin McCain, and we all sang along to Kuya Epot and his phone. Even the people from the other tables were joining in. Nyahahaha.

We had enough at around 4 am.

I woke up at around 10 to have lunch with Bang, then I went back to sleep. I woke up at 3 and read the Deathly Hallows ebook I got from a forum. I'm currently on my way to the Gringotts break in chapter.

At around 5, Ton2 called to ask if we were riding with Serenata to the CICC. How could we when I hadn't even had a bath yet, and we were still going to have a final run through at Clav's (which actually took us about 30 minutes)? We were expected to be at CICC at 7.

We got ready (Bang and I in less than 5 minutes, putting on little black dresses, a little face color and boots, and ate Chloe in at least 20, getting her foundation on.), hopped onto a jeep and found ate Kim and ate Gee sitting in the studio, and I felt terribly overdressed.

When we got there, a boy band was getting ready to play. By boy band, I mean a group of pretty boys. They were called "Paradigm Shift". Jego commented that the name sounded appropriate for Debate. They said they played "Progressive Rock". They sounded like a Cueshe/Urbandub hybrid. In fairness, they knew how to play their instruments, and their riffs and stuff were more complicated than ours, but I'm not a fan of that kind of music. The kind of complications I like are the kind Muse or Mozart supplies.

Tita Lolit said I looked gorgeous, so I put it to the test. We didn't have a bass guitar or a gadget, so we borrowed from the boy band. They agreed to wait for us to play. Sam left me to think of something to show my appreciation, and it turns out all they wanted was information on Samantha. Lol.

I hung out with them for a while, and all I can remember is the bassist's name, Larkins, because I had a sim named Lady Larkin before, and because he was the only non-shy creature there (because he was the one who asked for info on Sam). They didn't believe we were going to play Lakas Tama. Sam just told me it was too loud for the event so we decided we wouldn't play it.

When the final round began, ate Gee stayed inside to listen to the debate. The rest of the band stayed outside lest we needed a quick retouch after devouring food. I didn't have much of an appetite because of pre-gig jitters, so I ate very little.

We played while the judges were deciding on who won the final round. My nerves got to me and I wasn't able to do the movement I practiced on at Clav's. Good thing it wasn't the sort of crowd that moshed. We played Sleeping Beauty, then Baby Doll, then Paint it Black. I was racking my head with spiels, but I was never good at them, so I decided against talking. In other words, I botched things up. And once again, the crowd didn't notice. Am I just too hard on myself or do I really suck?

The crowd seemed too ho hum for my tastes and I felt something missing. I asked Sam over the mic if she'd let us play Lakas Tama. The moment I mentioned the song, people started cheering. She nodded her head. That was all we were waiting for. It appears that was what they were waiting for too.

I wonder if we could ever make a song that would amount to Lakas Tama. T_T

Ate Chloe had asked Luke to tape the performance, to at least have something to upload on the yet-to-be-realized website. I watched the video and cringed.

The sound system people looked over my shoulder and watched the video. They asked if the camera person was a guy or a girl. Ate Chloe answered their questions. Then they started teasing me because I got zoomed in most of the time. I tried to reason that the camera person was just zooming on where the music was coming from, which was why he was zooming in on ate Chloe and Bang's hands, Mama Gee's, and ate Kim too. I just happened to be front man, which was why most of the vid space was given to me. All the while I was cringing and thinking, "Ayoko na makita ang pagmumukha ko. Ang kapal ng mukha kong magfront man, ang pangit koooooooooooooooooo". To stop the cringing, I stopped watching and started listening. Even that made me cringe. Sir Billy was right, people do have the tendency to hate their own voices. >.<

Jego came to say Julie was enthralled, Julie came to ask for mp3s of the songs, and Chad came to ask for an album. Nanay, pressure... Then they said byebye and Julie kissed me on the cheek.

After the gig, Sam told me someone texted her asking where she found us bloodsuckers. Wow. I've just become a mosquito. It's ate Chloe's fault. The gothic music doesn't mean you have to look vampiric. But the look works, and I was tempted to ask if Sam's textmate wanted to be fed on by a willing guitarist.

There was so much food left over, that I wondered how much the organizers spent on the extra food for the performers when they could have let the performers eat whatever was left over?

Sam's family dropped us home, were we slipped into our pajamas and went out like lights. What a weekend.

Detatchment works two ways.

My mother made an observation about me today. I don't look at people in the eye when I talk to them, I don't listen clearly and I am not very enthusiastic with my responses to whatever the person has to say.

Does this mean I'm autistic or something? Lol.

~~~

Why is it that when you get something you really bad when you aren't expecting it anymore, the object isn't as important as you imagined it to be when you first wanted it?

I got a camera today. Whoopee. That doesn't change the fact that I'm not photogenic. And since it's nighttime and life sped by too fast for me to take any pictures from that point to this, I have nothing to upload.

I may be able to actually start doing something I've always wanted to: fetish photography. Nyahahaha.

Blasphemies

How many times have I wondered what it was like if things weren't the way they were, how things could have been if something else had happened, or what could really have happened, and what if all this were just a big joke? What if my real body was lying prone in some galactic amusement park and this was my fantasy? What if I had already died and found out I had the power to return to any state I wanted to? I wonder where I came back to... I wonder if I lived life any differently. I wonder if I'm on the right track. I wonder which mistakes I should not have made and which mistakes I should have made.

~~~

Mom took me to a family friend's accesory factory yesterday. I wasn't too interested in the painting of the beads and stuff, it all seemed pretty out of season to me (they were making summer accesories to be exported overseas), until tita Amy brought us to the showroom. It was like stepping into a treasure box. You should check out the site, though the really good stuff was in the showroom. The stuff was amazing. They used different styles that you didn't see just anywhere, but their stuff didn't look out of place with today's fads.

For a minute there I thought I turned kikay. Well, the stuff would look good on people, but I'm no willing victim.

~~~

Hello Multiply

I was a member of this site about 2 years ago. I couldn't manage my first account, since I ws already too busy with 3 other blogs.

Public blogging needs an audience. Blogger isn't exactly the best place to get one if you're just ranting about college and band life. I also came back to Mulitply because I found out it has a feature that lets you upload music. I might upload some of my band's music one of these days.

But thanks to cross posting, I won't have to worry about not being able to manage multiple accounts.

My blogger site is mutangpusa.blogspot.com. My multiply site is newmoonmaiden.multiply.com

Unfortunately, (correct me if I'm wrong) I don't think multiply has a comments box. People who have something to say may just post their comment in my blogger account or just say your piece at the guestbook at the multiply site.

Many thanks to those who took their time to read.

Metamorphoses

The wind wearies us down
until we are old and pleading
for the wind to take us away
Away from the sick and bleeding
Unaware that it is the wind
And gravity that wearied us down
And it is wind and gravity
That offered me my frown

I still dunno what to call the series. Any suggestions?

~~~

I wasn't kicked off the play yet. But I'm talking to the production people. I have to quit. Let's just hope they don't make me pay.

So much for glory in the field of theatre.

So what do I do now?

Yesterday, we were able to make musical arrangements for 2 other songs: Baby Doll (which used to be "Dolly Polly", but we changed it to its current name since that's what we used to refer it as anyway); Daydreamer and Ngano Man. The Baby Doll song is ready for the studio while the two other songs still need guitars and drums.

We're really going to start taking the website thing seriously. It's almost a year since the idea first popped out of nowhere but we haven't even recorded anything to be uploaded.

So the gigs are piling up, a website is on the way (pretty easy when your guitarist's a comsci student), we have a title to defend (Cook Out is on Aug 10) and we've decided on a logo. What do we need to start the ball rolling?

A present keyboardist.

When we were jamming at the boarding house yesterday, even ate Kim was there (even without the presence of a drumset). Si Mama Gee ra gyu'y wala. It feels like being in a relationship where your someone can't find time for you and won't even tell you why. Ang panget. Para akong may boypren (girlfriends at least tell you why they can't make it to dates).

I once saw an OPM album with only 6 songs in it. Mistula has 4 songs in their website. If we could only start a website and put adsense in it, we'd be rich by now (considering Bang2's showmanship...and I don't mean to brag but several people have been asking for mp3s already)

I hope that by the time she's ready to commit I haven't fallen out of love with the band yet.

~~~

School is boring.

~~~

I want to work for a comic book... but I need a computer to practice. I can't wait til the 21st, but I have a feeling the acquisition of a laptop will again be delayed. ohpleaseohpleaseohpleaseohplease... I hope world order decides I've had too many dissapointments in this cycle already and decides to give me a laptop and give the band Mama Gee's commitment.

Intimacy problems

i blew it. I really blew it yesterday. I threw a fit when I was about to do the cuddling scene with my husband again. I w

as trying to hold it inside. But no matter what I tried to tell myself about ating the words RAPE were hopping about in my head.

So much for acting.

Darklings

The dates and times are sometimes insignificant. They meld into one another like lovers in the dark, where names are unimportant and emotions are almighty.

I feel like a frosh again, except this time, I'm looking at my freshie year through someone else's eyes. Someone else's doing the stupid-frosh-thing for me. There are several people who remind me of others, and if I look at the people they remind me of, they aren't who I thought they were anymore. There are several things that feel comfortable, and several others that aren't what they were supposed to be.

Memories come back from the dark. Unearthed by another familiar face that isn't quite familiar. Things are happening all over again, but this time, I'm playing a different role. I wonder if this is how Alice Dixon felt when she was cast to play her ex-role's mother for "Ok ka Fairy ko" (I watched this as a child).

We're going to be playing at school this Tuesday for an RH forum. We'll most probably be doing Paint it Black, Sleeping Beauty, and Get Free. Then there's going to be another gig this friday for freshie's night, on top of my play rehearsals that end at 10pm. leche.

Try juggling an organization, play rehearsals, and band rehearsals PLUS gigs all in one go. Let's see if you don't go crazy.

hey wait, you wouldn't even try if you weren't already crazy to begin with.

The business is fun. Hey wait, add schoolwork to that, i just found out it was fun too this morning, if only our teachers showed up more often.

ई हवे बीन गोने फ़ॉर कुइते अ व्हिले हवें't ई?

Thank you very much, blogger, for turning my title into gibberish. Even arabs wouldn't be able to understand that (since it's english turned into Arabic font).

Oh well. I forgot what the title was anyway.

I auditioned the other day for a Ma Gimo production of "Our Town". No news about it yet.

~~~

I've started writing the sequel to Pregenesis but I haven't come up with a title yet.

~~~

I'm starting to feel old. My face is showing stress, even though I am prolly the most laid-back "busy" person in the world. Blame it on insomnia, blame it on not diligently hunting for the perfect facial moisturizer, blame it on anything, but you cannot blame it on stress.

I've become a junior. I consider the 3rd year the best in any educational level. It's the year where you can be called a regular expert on the comes and goings of your school. It's the year you get to lord over two other year levels. It's also the year where the year before you stop picking on you to teach you what you have to know in between worrying about their class standings or their thesis proposals. In Grade 3 back in Ann Arbor Montessori, that was the year that yours trully earned a bestfriend and a hang out. 3rd year highschool was the year I stopped trying to fit in with my classmates and exploring the alternatives. I wonder what this year has in store for me...

In a few years, I'll be worrying about work. I'll be worrying about what to feed my children. if I don't have children yet, I'll be worrying about looking for someone who'd have them with me before I become too old to ovulate (this will be particularly challenging since the male species prefers submissive women for partners), If I do end up being a spinster, I'll still end up worrying about all my godchildren (assuming of course that my friends don't end up with my fate and have immense numbers of brats for me to spoil). Oh yes. I love children. If I were a sim (And yes, I've played myself on Sims2 several times) I'd be a family sim. But if I choose the solitary life, I'd probably be in a different country writing horror novels that actually reflect my frustrations of not having my own children.

Children are like dust in the wind (I couldn't help myself, I just HAD to use the line). Their skulls easily crack and their skin is too soft. Plus they babble and sputter and swallow anything they get their hands on (since they use their tongues to "feel"). They grow, vomit, pee, poo, scream, and cry on women who don't want them, and they make googoo eyes on the women who do, as if to say "don't you wish your baby was cute like me?". So many girls are getting pregnant these days. I wonder if I could get myself pregnant without having to have sex with anyone.

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Hey, does anyone know any girl drummers who don't mind listening to Tristania and Evanescence and love mashing to Cradle of Filth and Nightwish?

We suddenly lost our drummer to a call center. Traitoress.

Oh God of music, please withold our potential big breaks until our drummer has come back to us from the clutches of that call center stint?!?