I have an imp for a teacher

So Myats has a devil for a sister, and though Ms Ranada is devilishly cheeky, she's not that feisty. So she's an imp. And she's sent me to thesis hell.

Ok, so I admit, the thesis proposals were corny, and I wasn't pitching them very enthusiastically. She asked me why I wasn't doing anything about advertising, saying my strengths were in creative conceptualization anyway. I told her I'd rather get into the movie industry after graduation than the ad industry. She told me to make a production. I dunno why I said yes. I dunno why I showed her the movie concept I pitched to Miss Marya. I dunno what I was thinking.

Stupid stupid stupid girl. Where in all 7 circles of hell are you going to find the moolah?!?!?

I could just change the concept and think of something that would require as little money as possible, but I'm stuck in the story, and my brain won't allow me to think of anything else in the context of movie material.

Cripes.

The movie concept's entitled "Bida complex", and plays at Philippine movie cliche's. And when you do a parody, it should at least reach the level of what it is you're parodizing in terms of cinematography at least. What do I know?!? I'd seen enough of real production to know that I don't know crap about commercial film production. And if I'm going to defend my thesis the same time my classmates do, I have to start looking for Producers nao.

Half of me wants to do the project, and half of me is telling me if I do accomplish it, it'll be mediocre, so it's better if I don't to escape the probability of getting embarassed big time.

Hay inay, bakit ka ba nanganak ng babaeng ambisyosa't nagsasalita bago mag-isip?

~~~

Cook Out updates (or at least what I know):

>The Logo is in the drawing board, and we've commished Ate Al (artistmonk) to do it
>The Program has been drawn up, and tradition and margin for errors have been given the highest priority.
>Dama de Noche will be playing, cept not as competitors, but as a guest band.

Ang alamat ni Maria de Cacao

There is a Maria story in almost every Region in the Philippines. Almost everywhere,the legend is that she's a beautiful stately lady with fair skin and long long locks who speaks in Spanish. She lives alone on a mountain and lends people her cutlery, gowns, golden combs, etc etc. She's harvests cacao ang delivers them on her Spanish galleon to different parts of the Philippines. She is known to live in waterfalls and other places.

The reality is (in my mind) that she is actually the Queen of a Chocolate Conglomerate, is terribly terribly obsessed with the aesthetic and wants to live in a world full of finery and luxury (wc is why she lends gowns and cutlery to the natives of the lands she abuses of their free resources, she hopes she gets invited to fine dinners and parties just like back in sweet home mother Spain). She has found out the secret to longevity and to evarlasting byuuuteee: Not too much sun and hours and hours of sleep (which is why she's seldom seen), and a top secret chemical that comes from the skin of cacao (I just came up with that on the fly). She parks her galleon in the crests of Waterfall formations and actually uses super advanced technology (she stole from Lemurian civilization) to make her galleon invisible AND flexible (to fit arrow rivers), not to mention uber powerful (which explains why it goes upstream to the waterfalls). She's also a PETA sponsor (she has her own Natural sanctuary in Makiling), and she a little too vain for her own good (she sets up "apparitions" in different parts of the world and basks in worship)

Idol nako si Maria.

~~~

Gais. I have no idea how all of you got here, or why you're even taking a speculative fiction post seriously. If you're all here for homework, go to a library for facts (and correct grammar and correct spelling). You won't get that from some ditzy girl's blog. I repeat: this is in no way an academic post, and you cannot expect me to make you copypasta for filipino fables class or whatever. (edit: feb 27 2012)

Also, thanks for the lulz.

It

...isn’t perfect, but it’s gone past the point where words sound hollow and unimportant. Words give it different shades of meaning, and there are just some things words are not for. This is one of them. If I were to show you what I mean, I’d give you a painting, and you still wouldn’t understand.

I’d give you the Inverness, with its valleys of purple and its mists of gluttonous incense.

But that is just one painting. There are so many others. The Inverness is too depressing. But I have used the Inverness as an example because it is impossible. It is an idea of a painting and not one in actuality. That is what I mean when I will give you a painting.

So we go back to words. I would give you a word to describe it, but it has been misused too much that its meaning has become vague. SO I will refrain from misleading you by giving you the word. The usage of the word in this narrative might cloud your judgment about this monologue anyway.

I said it was impossible, I said it was ideal, and I also said it was not perfect. This is because in my opinion, all that is considered perfect becomes tainted eventually.

It is something that has caused me to dwell into myself and study It, trying to decipher its nuances. I’d discovered it causes me to think differently, to consider other options, to wonder about going out of my way. It causes me to break away from my laziness. Otherwise I’d just be sitting here.

It has drifted beyond the surface of my being, that if you looked at me, you would no longer notice its presence. It has grown deep within me, like a root that ruins the rock yet beatifies it with meaning.

It is idle for most of the time, a welcome poison in my veins, but at certain circumstances, it leaps and takes hold of me, and I no longer own my body. That is the part of it that the world chuckles and nods to, but otherwise it is more than that.

And at times I tire of it, just like I tire of almost everything I have grown accustomed to. But it wrestles with me and mocks me, and shows me who is boss. And every time, I succumb and agree that I am master, and I let it happen to me.

Digression

During Ate Chloe's stay in UPD for summer class, she had a run in with the typical modern Dillimanian. She got onto a Toki and ended up listening to two kikays blathering about boys, cars and money, in "Conyo" (Taglish). She talked about said experience with another Super Senior, who told her there were actually tons of kids like those these days in UPD, and that the image UPD projects through the Collegian is a lie. A concrete example would have to be how people still wore slippers to school, except these days, their slippers' cost as much as a week's meal (for me at least).

While she was telling us about the kikays, I remembered Sam and I had a conversation about boys and cars too, in a mixture of english and cebuano to boot. And though we do like to dress up when we're in the mood, we do not wear havaianas (they're not as gahi as my TWO's, so meh :P).

A private conversation about a guy friend's new chevy doesn't have to mean these girls are shallow and that's all they ever talk about. It is kinda hard to speak straight English or Filipino or Cebuano when you find shifting lingual gears too much effort when you're just gossiping and you've grown up thinking in both languages.

And though I may rant about instant assumption and hasty generalization over here where I can lay my thoughts out without being interrupted, I do agree that UP today is lackluster compared to a few years back. There was just somethng about school that made your blood boil in the past. UP made me care about a lot of things I didn't give a rat's ass about back in HS. But that was only because I was actually curious. These days, most UPians I get to talk to only care about making the grade and passing their scholarship quotas.

When asking for identity info from a stalker the other day, he said his student number dates back to "When UP was still cool".*

So UP isn't as cool as it was before. Sucks right? Though we may reminisce about the good old days, it'd be foolish to try to bring it back the way it used to be. Different approaches must be taken, isn't that what being radical is supposed to be about? Being up to the times?

I am not saddened by the death of UP Culture. I am challenged with defining the new paradigm of "UP Culture". In a campus as small, yet as potentially volatile as UP Cebu, it's so easy to make a difference.

If anyone wants this generation to care again, one needs to remember they're dealing with a different generation. A different generation calls for a different approach.

But I'm not saying sitting around and laughing and calling yourself a "family" (ala brady bunch) is going to work when it comes to having people care about the rest of the world. I'm just saying we can't expect people to keep falling for the same old tricks, specially because we 90's kids are the TV generation. We have short attention spans and sth.

I like to ramble when I'm sleepy. You can go over the entire thing and replace "UP Culture" (or the idea of it for that matter) with anything that you feel is digressing today. Try Dunkin Donuts for starters. Or the dichotomy of Bago (I wish Pangs and Jun were on Multiply, only they'd get this joke...)

*Leche... kinsay nanghatag ug number nako to someone with a student number that starts with 98?!? The jerk called me "zwiti"!!! :barf:

Out of order

Dar2x, one of my multiply contacts, posted about her schedule being mucked up by the system, so I had to go check my own.

CRS strikes again. The PE subject I preenlisted for is out. No badminton, no swimming classes that fit into my sched, and absolutely no arnis. Crappiola. All the dangerous ball sports are available this sem, and unfortunately for me, I can't skip on PE again this time.

Then there's the part about non-froshes being unable to preenlist for NSTP. What's up with that? Does that mean I still have to add mat?

But I'm actually looking forward to classes. Most of my classmates are getting misty eyed about it being their last, while I'll be staying put for another year (providing I don't botch things up).

~~~

Faith got me a shirt yesterday, with an Out of Order stamped across the chest. You rarely find really clever lines on shirts these days, even though they're being manufactured by the thousand by brands like "Artwork", "Bleach", "Digeo", etc etc. The lines you find on shirts these days are usually corny, or crass. Sometimes they're just words on cloth. Or I could be wrong, and the shirt line's implication is far too deep, its humor escapes me.

Out of order. Can't piss here. Can't take a dump here. Not available. Not applicable. Broken. Destroyed. Dysfunctional. Chaotic. In other words, it says there's just something wrong with the person wearing this shirt. So it's either you back off, or you laugh.

If you think about it, it kinda spoils the message that the shirt's a little to snug around the curves.

It also strikes me as somewhat poserish to have to project to the world that you're bad news. Why not let them decide? If you really are traumatic, why not have them find out and experience trauma for themselves? A little dirt is good for the immune system. If we all wore signs that told people what sort of person they were dealing with, where's the point in engaging in conversation to know more about people? What ever happened to good old interaction? What are we so afraid of?

Signs can be deceptive. What's with all these labels? What's with all this propaganda? Who're we all fooling?

But then again, witty shirts always make good conversation starters. Lecheng commercialism.

As a conclusion to this psuedo rant, I'd like to annouce that I've been tasked to write an article on emo culture. Lol. If you know any who're high and proud with the label, I'd love to meet them.

What is there in the world to do?

Back to bummer land. Alone in Cebu, with nothing to do and no one to terrorize.
Internship ended today (for me at least), tomorrow's a weekend, and I'm almost broke. What's worse is that I need to move out of my hole next week, and I have yet to find somewhere to go. Ack.

Woe is me. I don't want to spend the weekend in front of a PC either, and there's very little to do in the room, and I left my DVDs at Faith's place. Zyra, nganong ug manghagit naman ko'g inom, wala na nuon mo? I miss Boracay (the drink, not the place)... *nudge nudge* Em2 nganong kung kanus-a na ko manghagit ug duwa, kinahanglan makalimot ug ginhawa imong auntie? I could've started working on your Paladin...

I refuse to do nothing (well nothing fun of course). I don't see myself logging in tomorrow, but this should serve as future reference.

What is there to do when you're low on cash and alone (apart of course from what it is healthy young adults do to tissue)?

1.) Read a book (unapplicable to yours trully since I no longer have unread reading material)
2.) Draw (not feeling very inspired atm)
3.) Take a walk (this is only fun when you've got someone to walk with, pwamis. Unfortunately, my walking buddy and silly conversation friend is out of town, curse him)
4.) Go to church (if all else fails and you're really bored, you can rant to the manager)
5.) Count your hair by the strand. (in-ana na gud ko ka walay lingaw)
6.) Sleep; snore; travel to dreamland; pee on your bed ... whatever it is sleeping people do (inapplicable to insomniacs)

You may add to this list by posting a comment.

Post debt paying

This is for Jared and Gani, who both tagged me with one of those "random facts about yourself" tag. I owed Gani 6, and Jared 10. Here goes...

1.) I'm subconsciously health conscious. If I were to pick between a bag of chips and a bowl of fruit, I'd go for the fruit (because I don't like how salty chips are anyway, and artifical sweeteners leave weird aftertastes)

2.) I don't think I'm weird. I'm just terribly self conscious, and a little too comfortable with taboos than usual.

3.) If I was born with a different configuartion, I could've become a biologist.

4.) My favorite number is the number 4. The chinese think it's unlucky, but I've always thought it looked like a nice rounded number.

5.) I have a tendency to skip numbers when I read. Which is prolly why I suck at math.

6.) I prefer walls of text over numbers. I am also aware that a lot of people aren't into walls of text, and tend to skip over them, which works well for me and my blogging habits.

7.) I prefer asking questions over answering them. I don't like answering autograph books

8.) One recurring dream theme is water and the sea.

9.) One pet peeve is when people make mountains out of your mole hills and give you grief over them.

10.) I love the smell of fresh ink on paper, but I'd still get the pdf version if I can pirate it. Arrr

I don't think I complied with the tagger's requirements. Oh well.

I tag no one.

Philippine Education...

Q: Why did Lapu Lapu kill Magellan?
A: Magellan made his nose bleed. Lapu Lapu doesn't understand a word in Spanish or Portuguese.

The moral of the story is: It's scary when the ignorant are in power.*


I attended the 888 news forum this morning at the Waterfront hotel. The topic? the status of Philippine Education in the Philippines.

I was wondering the other day about what would happen to our workers if all their children wanted to become lawyers. First of all, it'd be impossible, since most farmers and fishermen cannot even send their kids to college, much more to law school... but I was just wondering...

One of the main themes of the discussion was about how most college bound students expect to get into white collar jobs right after graduation. Several of the panelists claimed Philippine graduates had the proper skills and training to sate the human resource demand. Unfortunately they did not have the attitude. A lot of people graduated with honors only to enter the ranks of the unemployed just because everyone wanted to get jobs with title heads and 5-figure salaries right away.

In my opinion, ambition is good. But ambition and ignorance is not a very nice combination.

We are taught in public school that salary is everything, and that only doctors, lawyers, and engineers have great salaries. We are taught that to be the best, you must do anything and everything, which is why our teachers hand us answers for the National Schools Assessment Exam, and why the honor roll is usually lined with the biggest cheats in class. Most children want to become teachers once they start school, but after seeing how much my teachers hated their work, missing class more than I did and all, that dream died quick. That's values formation for the masses for you.

They blame it on the budget. We do have budgets in the education sector. But the question is where does it go? To the painting of new walls, the building of classrooms, the salaries of teachers, to new books. Nothing in research and development, in the updating of old curriculum, in field trips, in quality of education, etc etc.

As for the labor force, there are demands for welders, airport traffic controllers, animators, and whatnot in our country alone. But who would have known about these jobs anyway? Airport Traffic Controllers... wow, that's an interesting title, how come I never heard about it?

There are lots of niches unexplored because people are too afraid or lazy to look at options. People aren't aware of the possibilities and how far their talents can take them because we aren't taught to explore individuality. Does this all go back to the copycat culture discussion? I dare not start that again.

There's no wonder so many students shift from one course to another. They eventually spend more money that way, or worse, never finish at all. It doesn't really matter how long you take in college, as long as you come out fully equipped to help your country by adding to the labor force. God knows we need all the help we can get.

P.S.*I did not mean to defame Lapu lapu in any way, I'm not sure why he killed, or had Magellan killed. Please don't kill me so that I can ask him. Lol

More internship madness

Excited little me toddled off to work yesterday only to get assigned to gather blotter stories from the homicide department.

Disappointed little me's eyes widened the moment I saw the name of the dead dude on the blotter report

Excited little me flew to the newsroom to get more instructions about the story.

Disappointed little me was sent to gather jeepney driver commentaries on a fare hike.

You get the drift.

I was expecting the suicide story would get front paged. Ironically, it was the jeepney story that did. The suicide story was kept somewhere in the depths of the paper to give the family more privacy.

Ironically, I was sent to cover a stockholder meeting for the same family's business. I was seated beside business editors and columnists who had come by the ton from several other media institutions. I was a lone intern from CDN til some other guy with a CDN ID came in.

Before everything began, one lady was yapping about how CDN treated the suicide story. I felt like she was deliberately letting me hear her comments. But how could she have known I was the reporter who got the blotter report? I was just an intern, and I had just co-authored the story along with two other people. Oh well.

After the meeting (which was basically a reading of the hand outs given to us), we were served lunch while we interviewed the big wigs of the company.

It was fine dining, and last I heard, it was illegal to talk about dead relatives on the finner table, so I kept mum. I was hoping though that someone would suddenly ask about the suicide. No luck. Apparently food etiquette is still significant to Cebuano Media, ignoring the fact that the lady next to me stole my salad fork. Lol.

When I got out, one of the personnel handed me a gift box. Lol. I also asked the other CDN dude if he wanted to write the story (since I obviously did not know how to go about it). He said he had another sched and bid me goodbye. The jerk had only come for the food!

I didn't want to look stupid with my article, so I approached the day desk editor and admitted that I was near nosebleed mode with all the technical business terms. She told me to ask for help from Evert. Ulp.

Surprisingly, she was a lot friendlier than I remembered. She said she'd asked sir Marx if it were possible to include business news writing in our curriculum. I wish they had. No matter how big a head ache learning how to translate biz lingo would be, it should be nothing compared to the embarassment fresh mass comm graduates would get when their editors assign them to do business articles.

She gave me a crash course on power economics and told me to just write an article based on the company's projects and sth. After a few pages, my headache was clearing up and I finally understood most of what my notes meant.

Then my notebook went missing.

I phone interviewed Uncle Mulong regarding the fare increases, submitted both articles, and went home.

I'm pooped.

Internship Madness

If the brief stint in Manila was hohumm boring, I can't believe how busy I've suddenly become with print internship!

I remember mentioning a few entries past that I was wary of print internship, especially at CDN because it was rumoured to be the least intern-friendly environment in Cebu?

The HR told me to report at 6:30 pm last Thursday to be given a beat. The editor, Miss Connie, was surprisingly congenial (despite rumors that she was some sort of Dragon Lady). She told me to go to Mandaue the next morning, to send a text message on the gist of my story before 2, and to submit the story before 6.

Next morning, I realized I had absolutely no idea how to go about it. I treated the experience like a game. I approached one of the information desk people (footmen of the castle.lol) and asked if I could speak to the Public Information Officer (The Earl's minstrel). After being sent to 3 different people, I found Ms Louella, who I asked for the mayor's itinerary (charisma check...). You get the drift.

After a trip to the City Engineer's office, I got my story (and a few bits of chismis about CDN), so I went back to the office to type the story.

As soon as I got there though, I was sent to cover a Qur'an recital event at Jones. The event was at 3, around 15 minutes away. The only way to make it on time was to get a taxi. I was almost broke.

I had the taxi stop at an ATM machine and got to the program, albeit a little late. I noticed that Muslims were far more courteous than most, and it was harder to spot who were the interviewees compared to the rest. I approached a lady with an ID holder who lead me to the Regional Director himself. He entertained me for the remainder of the program; gave me a copy of their souvenir program and ordered some food for me. Very gentlemanly. He looked like William Dafoe (Green Goblin of the 2002 Spider man movie).

When I got back to the office, I was finally able to type the story and the story after that. The office's computers were running on Linux and were having problems. I couldn't save my articles without the help of the IT personnel. Talk about defeating the purpose. Did I mention ate Evert snubbed me when I greeted her? I didn't know people actually did that these days. I refuse to believe it was actual conceit that pushed her to snub us interns, despite us being from the same school. That would be too shallow. And I don't know her that well to automatically assume she is shallow. Lol.

Sometime in the evening, one of the people went around with a box full of rolled up sheets of paper. Whoever got the paper with a star gets to cover a concert. I got a blank paper.

I went home at 7:00, after dinner with Mara at the office cafeteria. Their fish had too much vinegar. Before going home, Miss Mars, the day desk editor, gave me instructions for my assignment the next day. I was going to Dalaguete.

~~~

I came 30 minutes too early, and was silent on the way to Dalaguete. The seminar thingy was interesting (it was about restoration and sth), and guess what? The parish of Dalaguete has wii! One of the members of the heritage commission, Fr. Bryan, asked me if I wanted to play. Lol. Breakfast and Lunch were served, and on the way home, the people in the car got into a very animated (not to mention outdated) discussion on the environment. I kept poised and proper the entire time, as if it was that hard to act perky, staying in a car with people who reminded you of your mother's friends was enough to put a dapper on any enthusiasm whatsoever.

I arrived at the office later than expected because of traffic, and sat down to write my article. I found the article I had written the day before in a little corner inside the paper (it was short after all). Though the paragraphs were arranged more meaningfully than I had in my draft, a few details made me flinch. I have to learn how to satisfy the editor...

I went home at 7:30pm.

I'm actually looking forward to going to work. But this time, I'm bringing my own laptop.

The end of bayotness

I won 1st runner up. Lol. For more details, visit:
http://www.biliranisland.com/blogs/?p=116

I did the night elf dance for the fun wear competition; Although the gowns sucked, I was able to get a pretty color compared to the others (turquoise); Jay-R spent most of his serenading time beside me; Rico Lucena gave me his thumbs up for ABS CBN (TV Internship Myats... lol); I can afford to give my laptop an upgrade; I made friends; and the figurine/trophies for the special awards are cute :D

In fact, I went shopping this morning. I bought myself accesories for my laptop; a RAM upgrade; a laptop bag; shoes, a jacket, and an umbrella. :) nuahahahaha XD

I'd be ever so grateful if you...

...registered at http://www.biliranisland.com/forum/register.php, verified, and voted at http://www.biliranisland.com/forum/showthread.php?t=1720

I'm Miss Maripipi in case you get confused...

Yes ladies and gents, I've joined another pageant. I'm determined to redeem my uglehness from the last time (i looked like some sort of silver fish...in a human beauty pageant) First prize's 20k plus a trip to Hong Kong.

The pageant's on May 9 featuring Janno Gibbs, tickets cost from 100php to 1000php me thinks. For more info, visit http://missbilirantourism.biliranisland.com/2008/

20 things to do before 20

1.)Learn how to drive a car
2.)Earn $1000
3.)Cook a full course meal
4.)Learn how to sew
5.)Write a book
6.)climb a mountain
7.)Film an indie flick
8.)Sell a print on DA
9.)Go to Bohol
10.)Pose nude (srsly, before I grow fat or old and wrinkly)
11.)Organize a surprise party
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 theatre
20.)Have an album launched (Dama de Noche)

Ambitious? I'm currently working on #1 :D

School days are here again

The beginning of a new school year/sem always gets me high. I wonder if it'll last long though.

I still haven't finished enrolling. It's not so much on me sucking, it's just that the CRS or Computerized Registration System sucks.

Oh well. The most I've accomplished in two days is to gather the requirements for enrolling and getting a number for Monday.

My classes all begin at 10:30 and end at 4. No in between breaks, all classes in the mass comm wing. I will become a consistent ghost this time. But I doubt I'd be wandering around school a lot. Unless I had to wait for meetings which usually take place at 5:30.

I can roll around bed as long as I want and still make it to school on time. I'll have more time to go places without being interrupted with a class to get to.

I have to publish this month to complete my Journ grade. I have to publish at least 2 articles, and I still have no idea when my Comm 140 removals will take place. Then I'm adding another subject. Possibly an elective. Or maybe a GE. I dunno.

As for projects, Rachelle wants to push through with staging a play. I was excited about it at first, but now I'm not so sure. Maybe we could stage something other than Pregenesis. Maybe we could do something that's already out there.

Then there's the prom. And I'm unfortunately the Program directress. Fack. I don't want it to turn out the same predictable way.

Then there's Otaku Day. I suggested a fund raiser for the prom. It would be called "Otaku Day". It would have contests for artists, a cosplay competition, and would be culminated by a concert. We're still in the planning/letter drafting process. Excited about it actually.

This sem doesn't sound too bad to me....

well, so far.

Manic Depression

I found an 80's book entitled "How to Cope With Depression" in the house. It started with the definition of Clinical Depression, including symptoms and signs. 'Sounds family...' I thought, and read on. Then I found Manic Depression. Bingo. I had all the symptoms. There were times when I felt like I was on top of the world, totally in control of myself, etc etc etc (Mania). Then there were times I felt like shit (Depression). Symptoms of Mania included excessive energy, lessening of sleep, giddiness for no reason, irritability, stubborness, vanity & conceit. Depression on the other hand included constant self depreciation, lack of energy, irregular sleeping habits (including waking up at odd hours), etc. Yep. Could be it.

Sometimes I have random thoughts that seem to have no connection whatsoever. Thinking back, there was a time during the restaging of Pregenesis where my private blog posts seemed like collages. My friends also confronted me for being "others". These were actually exhibitions of Mania. Then there are times when it's hard for me to string a coherent thought. It would be hard for me to understand abstract concepts, and I'd be very absent minded. This was actually a manifestation of depression.

Then I read the testimonials, and thought I was reading my personal blog. Lulz. A Nicole was exhibiting the same signs of depression as I was early in her life, and as the years went on, her actions became more drastic and more self-damaging. Another woman whose name I forgot was increasingly paranoid in the work place. I remember screaming at someone at school because I thought she was talking behind my back. Shit. If I'm going to get worse, I need help.

My mom came and found me with the book and told me she had manic-depression in college. That explains a lot. She then told me it was through strong faith in Jesus that she got over it. Ack. In retrospect, I'm starting to think my YFC days were exhibitions of Mania (thinking that there was a voice talking to me when I closed my eyes, the calming sensation that washed over me when I was imagined I was in God's embrace..etc etc)

I googled up manic depression and found out it was now called the Bipolar disorder. That explains it. There were several cures for it, all tablets except for Lithium.

Woot. The green fairy. I wonder what it'll do to me.

Christmas in Halloween

I slept all afternoon and woke up to thunder and lightning. Auntie Mama had just arrived from Manila, and was telling everyone about her visit to Eat Bulaga. She had been chatting with Allan K in bisaya, asked Tito Sen and Wally to pose with her in a picture, among other things. Due to the black out, we had to eat by candlelight. Everyone was huddled over the kitchen table for dinner (barbecue) and after a very long time, we seemed like a proper family, talking and laughing over food. Even Raushan was there.

Then the lights came back on. A plug started smoking, so we shut off the electricity while Raushan took the plug off. We went back to dinner in the dark. Food always tastes better in the dark.

We had the electricity back to fix the christmas tree Auntie brought back from Manila. I was put in charge of trimming the tree, with the kids as my (slaves) assistants.

When we were through, the lights and music were turned on, and we started recalling Christmas memories.

Karl talked about how they'd lie on the animal skin rug under the tree and watch the lights back when they still lived in Yakal. I recalled watching the lights while I swung from a playground set we had in our house back in Paranaque while the Midi Christmas carols played.

The younger children listened eagerly and I realized one thing: I'm old -_-;;

Lolo and Lola's picture hung on the wall behind the Christmas Tree. I don't think they minded that we decided to spend time cherishing the living on the day of the dead.

Fangirling

I understand why there are so many brainless fangirls out there... this is mind numbing:


Gackt is hot. Though the Vanilla video had too much fanservice for some, it was what lead me to Gackt in the first place. And he probably looks better with his clothes on. But he fits well in fantasy land.

In fact, many thing fit well in fantasy land. I don't agree with the song "Get out of my Dreams and into my car". Sadly fantasy files aren't prosaic ready. They get damaged in the process of transmutation. Perfection is never possible in the real world. So I stay the quiet fangirl, never letting my fantasies be realized. Because there will always be something wrong with it.

So Dumbledore's Gay

So what?

Rowlings tells the world Dumbledore was gay. For what? The story's over, and it won't change anything. It doesn't really explain anything and it seems more like a marketing strategy to renew interest in the story.

Maybe she was accused of being a homophobe because of the lack of any open homosexual relationships in the series. Maybe she noticed nobody cared so much for Dumbledore in the aftermath. Maybe she's just letting the fanfiction get to her. Publicity stunts this blatant are annoying.

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.