Windows of the Soul

The 100th and Last Post

2009-10-30T09:54:00.002+08:00

I have made my Multiply blog my permanent abode of words. Just cause I have settled over there quite nicely. I suppose this would be my last post in this blog unless a cyber typhoon comes and destroys my Multiply. Ciao.

Left behind

2008-02-19T12:52:00.003+08:00

Disappointment is such a strange feeling. It feels as if you'll never be happy again or excited again or anything really. I suppose it's better than utterly failing or being rejected altogether. It's just as if the moment was stolen from right under your feet. And now you realize you're walking on air, albeit not in a good way. Suddenly, everything that you've depended to be there, isn't there. The moment is not really lost, sure you can recapture it again, but it's not quite the same. The recaptured moment seems less fascinating, less appealing, less riveting than the original. It feels as if it has passed you by but returned completely changed. You try to reignite the same excitement, the same aura that you once felt towards it, but they're gone. And so now you only have the moment without everything that it once represented.

I suppose if I were to survive in the real world, I should steel myself against disappointments. Because they will come. In hordes, actually. But the feeling never loses its potency. I've had my share, but everytime it still stings. No one can be quite immune against it. So I guess I'm just going to have to take this one and endure through it.

Take me home, country road

2008-02-11T11:20:00.000+08:00

It’s ten minutes to ten o’clock at night. After a couple of minutes of rolling about in my bed, and a few rounds of rubik’s cubing, in which sleep still managed to elude me, I resorted to dragging my dad’s laptop out of his backpack. And here I am now, staring at the blinking cursor and then typing these words. Whatever for, is there anything substantial that I can say at this hour, at this state? Not particularly. I suppose I am here seeking solitude in words and the meandering of thoughts.

There is no particular drama in my life at the moment, no conflict or sorrows compelling enough to make me bleed my emotions on a virtual page. But no matter. I guess the fact that I am not in a super-introspective mood is worthy enough of a celebration. I’ve been thinking too much for someone supposedly young and has her life ahead of her. I’d do anything to get this brain to relax. If only I’d spend as much time thinking of world peace and doing good for others, my life would be better off. But no, all I can think about is who I am, where I should go, what should I do.

It’s funny, I went into the ministry thinking I could make a difference. Maybe if I could indulge in something that is far beyond myself, I would be able to get some meaning out of life. But all there is is this huge sense of loss. I am at loss. I thought it would at least calm my wandering thoughts and emotions, and yet it hasn’t. More than anything, entering into the ministry has taught me that it could never be enough for me. Shame, it is probably the noblest thing that I will ever do in my life. To think that I am engaged in the betterment of souls, in the eternal salvation of lives, in such grand words as national transformation, I must be crazy to feel this disinterested and dispassionate. I don’t know what I am looking for, but whatever it is, it is not here.

I don’t know what to do or what to say to God. I wonder, does he understand me? Does he know that it’s nothing personal, that I still believe in him, in his words, in his love? Does he know where I’m coming from? I wonder, do I make him hopelessly sad? Maybe I’m the one who doesn’t understand, maybe I don’t really get it; that for all my academic achievements, I’m really just a slow learner in things that matter.

But I do know that I cannot live like this forever – so indifferent and so unfeeling. This is not how it’s supposed to be. I know how it feels to be on fire, to be motivated, to be inspired. I know, and that’s why I must leave. What good is someone who does something without heart? You can only make him do something to a point, and then he can no longer go on.

Mahirap maging isang langgam

2008-02-01T13:17:00.001+08:00

Ang sabi sa amin ng aming pastor, ang tao ay parang isang langgam na nakakulong sa ant glass. Ang tanging alam niya lang ay ang kanyang ginagawa. Ang tanging nakikita lamang niya ay ang nasa harap niya. Ang tanging nakakasalimuha niya ay ang mga malalapit niyang kasamahan. Ang buhay niya ay napapaloob sa isang parisukat, malaking malaking parisukat para sa isang langgam ngunit parisukat pa rin.

Buti na lang may mapa ako kahit papaano.

A new blog post from me? What a miracle!

2007-09-13T12:33:00.000+08:00

Na-convict ang aking maliit na puso nung sinabi saken ni tintin minsan na siya ay nag-aaral sa law school and working at the same time at nakukuha niyang magblog. Whereas ako? Lazy bum na nga di pa makapagblog. Hindi ko kaya ang conviction sa puso ko kaya eto napabukas ako ng di oras ng blogger account ko.

Wala naman kasing masyadong nangyari sa buhay ko these past few months. Puro na lang trabaho, trabaho ng trabaho. Fine may lagalag din namang nangyayari but still! Hay naku. Una sa lahat, unti-unti nang naglalaho ang mga favorite TV shows ko. Tapos napilitan pa akong pumunta sa Baguio para sa isang workshop about communication and research. Naisip ko lang sa sarili ko, hindi pa ba sapat ang apat na taong pagdurusa para mag-aral ng communication research? Kulang pa ba? Ayaw ko na sanang dalawin pa ang madilim na landas ng research ngunit ayun nadalaw ko talaga. Naka-compose nga ako ng mga tula dahil sa kagustuhan kong aliwin ang sarili ko. Mga tulang tulad nito:

Kung sakaling isang araw
Makita mo ako sa dalampasigan
Wag mo na akong lapitan
Please lang.

Deep di ba? Ano ba yan. Hindi pa ako sure na maii-stalk ko si Roger Federer ngayong Nobyembre sa Malaysia. Wala na bang natitirang ligaya sa mundo ko?

Dear Miss na siningitan ako sa Pila ng FX terminal,

2007-04-12T12:11:00.000+08:00

Miss, alam mo ba ang konsepto ng pila? Obviously hindi, so tutulungan kita. I will give you the privilege of learning Pila 101 straight from me. Handa na ba ang notebook at ballpen mo? Baka naman may Blackberry ka pa, pwede rin. Pakirecord na lang kung nakokornihan ka sa konsepto ng pagsusulat.

Ang sistema ng pila ay operationalization ng "First come, First serve(d)." No more, no less. Pag nauna ako sa pila, ibig sabihin mas may opsyon ako sa iyo na mamili ng pwesto ko sa FX. Ergo, kung gusto kong umupo sa natitirang pwesto sa harapan, wala kang magagawa, ok? Kahit umiyak ka ng dugo, unless maawa ako sa iyo. Yun lang ang opsyon mo, naiintindihan mo?

Ngayon, ating siyasatin ang iyong ginawa kanina. Nasa likod kita, in-overtake mo ako para makaupo sa unahan. Is there something wrong with this picture? Sige nga isipin mo. Sige, kaya mo yan. The answer starts with an "e". Sirit na? "Everything." Everything was wrong with that picture.

Miss, naiintindihan ko kung naka-skirt ka at ayaw mo nang umupo sa likuran. Sa kasamaang-palad puno na rin yung gitna. Anong magagawa natin? Sadyang ganyan ang kapalaran. Alam ko, mahirap ang bumaba na nakaskirt, pero miss e di sabunutan mo kung sino man ang nagdesisyon sa uri ng inyong uniporme sa kumpanya mo. Aba, pati ba naman yan proproblemahin ko pa?

Ang sa akin lang miss sana wala namang ganyang uri ng sorpresa. Aba, napakabilis mo naman gumalaw. One minute nasa likod kita, a microsecond after aba nasa unahan ka na. Flash... is that you? Bilib ako at hindi mo naramdaman ang init ng aking laserbeam habang tinititigan ko ang likod mo. Feeling ko sa sobrang sidhi ng pagka-asar ko, wala pang isang minuto liliyab ka na. Buti na lang at puyat ako, kaya siguro walang masyadong energy.

Ewan ko ba miss, araw-araw na lang nakaka-enkwentro ako ng mga katulad mo. Mga deadma, kebs, gagawin-ko-ang-lahat-maging-akin-ka-lamang, ano-aangal-ka, wala-akong-pakialam-sa-tama-o-mali. Mga ayaw mag-abot ng bayad sa dyip na umuupo naman sa may likuran ng driver, mga bus driver na ayaw itabi ang bus pag bababa na ang pasahero, mga taxi driver na ayaw manukli at ginagawang dahilan ang walang kamatayang, "wala akong barya," mga jeepney driver na ang lakas-lakas ng tugtog ng hiphop na musika tapos pag sumigaw ka ng "para!" ibaba ka sa kabilang kanto na, and so on and so forth.

Bakit miss, bakit gusto mong matulad sa kanila? Don't you want to be in good company? Bakit hinahayaan mong makisabay ka sa agos ng kawalan ng disiplina? Huli na ba ang lahat?

O ayan, bell na. Tapos na ang klase. Sana may natutunan ka. Sana hindi tayo ulit magkasunod sa pila dahil flash or no flash, papatirin kita.

Class dismissed,
Justice League

Dear Manong Taxi Driver na Nanghihingi ng dagdag na bayad sa nakatala sa metro,

2007-04-11T12:50:00.000+08:00

Manong, wats up? Bakit naman ganyan agad ang hirit niyo? Ni hindi ko pa nga naipapasok buong katawan ko sa taxi e hiniritan niyo na agad ako ng pang-aabuso. Time out naman mehn. Araw-araw na nga tayo parehong inaabuso ng mga pulitikong nagkukunwariang sila ang ating mga bagong bayani, nakikidagdag pa kayo. Bakit naman, manong? How did it come to this?

Sabi niyo trapik kasi kaya sana dagdagan ko na lang yung bayad ng kahit sampung piso. Wait lang manong ha, tingnan natin yung lohiko ng iyong sinabi. Hindi ko alam na binabayaran na pala ngayon ang trapik. Ano yan, E-VAT? Manong naman! E di ba tumatakbo pa rin naman yung metro kahit nakahinto yung sasakyan? Kaya nga napapakagat-kuko yung mga pasahero pag naiistuck sa trapik kasi tiyak mahal bayad niyan. Tapos papadagdagan niyo pa? Manong, alam niyo po ba ang konsepto ng metro? Ha?Ha?Ha??!

Tapos buti kung nakapaka-ayos niyong mag-drive. Aba, daig niyo pa ang teen-ager na nakainom. Ano ba yun! Manong, tayo po ay nasa pampublikong kalsada, hindi race track. Hindi po ferrari ang inyong sasakyan. And what's more, mga tao po iyang sinasagi-sagi niyo. Yes, human beings. May buhay po sila. Hindi po sila roadblock. Husme manong, nagkaroon bigla ako ng motion sickness sa pinaggagawa niyo.

Buti kung yan lang ang mga pagkukulang niyo e. Subalit bakit hindi niyo naman alam kung paano pumuntang city hall ng Mandaluyong? Why? Bakit po ako ang tinatanong niyo? Aba, kung hindi lang nakadikit sa leeg ko yung ulo ko e hindi ko na alam kung saan napunta. Ganyan po kalala ang aking sense of direction. E kung sabihin kong pupunta akong Mars, tatanungin niyo rin po ako kung saan yun? Manong, mehn, it's time to change. Ang inyo pong trabaho ay dalhin ang mga tao sa kanilang patutunguhan, hindi iwala. Or patayin for that matter.

Hay manong, bakit tayo nagkakaganito? Ano po ba ang problema? Bakit po kayo nang-aasar ng mga pasahero? Dahil po ba sa temperatura? Hindi po ba kayo binabayaran ng maayos ng boss niyo? Naiintidihan ko manong, lahat po tayo ay may mga sari-sariling pagdurusa, pero sana naman po wag nating kalimutan ang tama sa mali. Manong, listen to your heart. What would your mother say? What would Jesus do? Why does the sun go on shining?

Ayan manong konti na lang ay makakapagtula na ako. Pasalamat ka manong pagod na pagod na rin ako at wala ako sa mood na sabunutan kayo. Sa susunod, magdala kayo ng mapa ng Maynila.

Hope to never be sideswept by you,
Annoyed Passenger

Ka-textmate ko na si Nemo

2007-03-23T16:06:00.000+08:00

Ano ang tawag sa taong naihulog ang kanyang cellphone sa boating lagoon sa Burnham Park sa Baguio?

a. Some kinda stupid b. Stupid c. Insane

Ano ang reaksyon ng kanyang ina ng malaman na ang niregalo niyang cellphone ay hinulog ng kanyang anak sa lagoon?

a. Naawa b. Nakisimpatiya c. Nanermon ng isang buong araw

What now, carabao?

a. Wala akong cellphone so what?
b. Ang sim ko since first year college ay wala na, so what?
c. Buti nga, at nang makabili na ng N70...wish ko lang

Ano ang lesson na mapupulot sa anecdote na ito?

a. Pag magbo-boating sa lagoon...haler, ilagay ang cellphone sa bag!
b. Nothing in this world lasts.
c. Boating is dangerous to your mental health.

Plodding on

2007-01-03T16:25:00.000+08:00

It’s the time of the year again. The time where I get to write an opening (or parting, whatever) shot as my blog and I get older. It’s nice to know that even though I carped and whined and nursed some make-believe identity crisis on-and-off for the past year, I still managed to pull myself together at the end of the day.

I told God that I simply don’t know anymore.

There were times during the year when I just didn’t want to face the real world. I don’t know if it was depression or some serious confusion, but I knew that at some point, I ended up being a disappointment – to myself more than to anyone else. I keep waiting for some signs of progress within myself – a telltale sign that I have learned my lessons, mastered my trial-and-errors, knew myself more, knew God more.

Again, I don’t know if I got wiser. I just don’t know anymore. And maybe that’s okay. Sometimes, I wish I could be a better person, with more mettle and more strength, more passion and more reason, and more faith. Sometimes, I wish I could look God in the face. Sometimes, I wish I could stop wondering.

The years keep creeping by, and every time they do, I wish I could creep away with them. Not because I’m tired of life, but because I’m tired of always asking “why” although I already know the answer.

CS Lewis wrote that God knows what wretched machines our souls are driving within us, but all he asks is for us to keep trying. It matters not what shape we get to the finish line. What matters is that we actually get there. And so I persevere even though I am tired of doing so sometimes. There are days when I could walk tall, and some days when I could barely crawl. But I move on. Always. No use stopping now or turning back. All I have is the future.

Divisoria: place of the undead

2006-12-18T16:13:00.000+08:00

Divisoria is nice. Don't get me wrong. It's the place where your peso really goes a long way (that is, if you know how to effectively haggle). But, Jumping Jehoshaphat!, it crawls with people. Crawls. One can barely breathe there, especially during this Christmas season. There has got to be some sort of system wherein buyers are allowed to roam in batches. I mean, how is one supposed to haggle when everybody is doing the same and there are only two salespeople and you're standing in a cramped hallway and the person next to you is eyeing your last pair purchase (or perhaps your wallet) so you're constantly on guard and at the same time trying to get the attention of the saleswoman?? Not to mention your companion is such a whiner and can no longer endure the torture and the confusion and the exaustion and everything else in between.

It's madness! Madness! I cannot go there again. Unless I'm part of the undead and absolutely has no more feelings inside.

Que horreur!

2006-12-04T12:18:00.000+08:00

Ano ba to, parang sinasapian ako ng "Ayokong Magsulat sa Blog" Virus, kaakibat ang "Wala akong ganang magsulat at minsan ay tinatamad na altogether" Syndrome. Eto ba ang mga nakuhang disease ng mga wayward bloggers na kinakampanya namin ni Tintin? Ano ba yan, tin, sasama na ata ako sa mga iko-code red. Heto nga nagpupumilit ako kahit papaano. Dapat nga ikwento ko ang mga Bangkok at Davao escapades ko kaya lang talagang I'm out of gas. Ewan ko ba. Sabi nga ni Atticus Finch sa To Kill A Mockingbird (kasalanan mo to Francis!), you'll never know a person unless you climb into his skin (or shoes ba?), and walk around with it. Now I know kung bakit naga-AWOL ang mga Wayward Bloggers, Inc. Wala lang, nakakatamad lang talaga. At nakakapagod ang buhay. At minsan, hindi interesante.

********

Muling nabuhay ang Classic Film bug na nanalaytay sa ugat ko (kasalanan mo talaga to Francis). Napanood ko kasi yung 1962 na movie version ng To Kill A Mockingbird. Pinakapaborito ko kasi yung novel na yun ni Harper Lee. Kahit nga required reading yun nung highschool talagang kinarir ko. E sa maganda naman talaga siya e. Si Atticus na ata ang pinaka-mabait at moral na abogado sa kasaysayan ng mga fictional characters (at baka sa totoong buhay na rin, hahaha!). Maganda din yung movie (crush ng nanay ko si Gregory Peck nung haiskul siya, ano ba yan), kaya lang siyempre hindi naman talaga niya makukuha ang grandeur ng libro. Parang gusto ko tuloy hanapin yung Citizen Kane ni George Orwell at yung Psycho ni Alfred Hitchcock. Hindi ko makita sa Quiapo. Pano kasi, lingon ako ng lingon sa likod ko. Baka kasi mag-raid e hindi ako mabilis tumakbo.

Liham ng Pakiusap

2006-10-13T08:22:00.000+08:00

Dear Miss na natutulog sa balikat ko,

Hi, hello. Uhm, ang bigat mo. Teka nga, bakit ka ba sumasandal sa balikat ko? Close ba tayo? Magkakilala ba tayo? Friendship ba? E di ba nakasabay lang naman kita sa FX? Bakit feeling close ka na agad? At tsaka, 7:00 lang ng umaga, naka-uniform ka pa nga e. Di ba dapat alive, alert, awake, enthusiastic ka? Ni hindi pa nga lumulubog ang araw (or sumisikat for that matter). Napuyat ka ba? Wish ko lang dahil nag-aral ka sa exam mo mamaya, hindi dahil nag-date kayo ng boyfriend mo. Kaya ka ba nagka-cram kanina at nilabas mo yung notebook mo? Tsk tsk tsk, miss, bilang isang graduate ng Cram Institute, maniwala ka sa akin: that's not going to help you. Trust me, beterano na ako sa mga ganyang gawain. At puro pagdurusa lang ang natamasa ko sa pagiging crammer ko. Change now, before it's too late. Sabi nga ni Og Mandino sa The World's Greatest Salesman, "I will develop good habits and be a slave to them." Cramming is not a good habit, ergo, don't develop it.

Pero maiba nga tayo, hindi naman talaga yan ang point e. Ang point ay masakit na ang balikat ko. Natitiis mo ba ni binubutas ng matulis kong shoulder blade ang gilid ng ulo mo habang ikaw ay nanaginip dyan? Hindi ka ba nasasaktan? Sabagay, sabi nga nila ang cranium daw ng tao ang pinakamatigas na buto sa lahat. Aba, dapat lang, dahil kung hindi baka naka-drill na ako ng manhole sa gilid ng ulo mo. Ano ba, miss, hindi mo ba talaga kayang mag-stay na gising? Hindi ba umi-epek ang kurot? Gusto mo ba bigyan kita ng kutsilyo at kalamansi parang si Don Juan? Ano bang maitutulong ko para hindi ka magmukhang katawa-tawa? Alam mo kanina pa ako umuusog dito sa upuan ko. Naiirita na nga ata sa akin yung katabi ko sa kabila kasi feeling niya sinisiksik ko siya. Ang totoo nyan, masakit na talaga balikat ko sa iyo. Hindi ka ba naaawa sa akin? Sa mga panaginip mo ba, wala bang boses na nagsasabi sa iyong, "ang aga aga namimerwisyo ka!"

Miss, hindi ako masamang tao, dahil kung masama ako, kanina ko pa nanakaw yung N70 mo. Ano ka ba miss! Alam mo ba kung magkano yan?? Bakit mo nilalabas ng basta basta lamang, tapos natutulog ka pa. E kung hablutin ko yang bag mo sabay talon palabas ng FX e di iiyak ka dyan? Alam mo bang pinag-iipunan ko nga yung 3250 Music Xpress lang, tapos ikaw may N70. Lupit mo ha! Siguro pinapanakaw mo talaga yan, para mabilhan ka ng magulang mo ng N93. Ganun na lang ba kadaling mamulot ng pera? Sobra to!

Ayan, miss, nagagalit tuloy ako. Ikaw kasi, namamaga na nga balikat ko, inaasar mo pa ako sa carelessness mo. Kaya maraming nananakawan e! Alam mo kung ako may N70, bukod sa hindi ko siya ilalabas, e ikakadena ko ba sa loob ng bag ko. Kung pwede ngang lagyan nung nadevelop sa Inglatera na screaming chip na kung saan ay sumisigaw yung phone pag hinablot, nilagyan ko na rin. The last thing I will do with it is to throw it carelessly inside my bag and then sleep my head off, and in the process annoying the wits out of a struggling proletariat who have bills to pay and have to labor, labor and labor.

Miss, wag mo sanang pepersonalin to. Gusto ko lang namang mapabuti ka bilang isang tao. Estudyante ka pa lang, marami ka pang pwedeng gawin sa buhay mo. Finish school and reach your potentials. Kaya mo yan. Pull yourself together okay? Okay? Okay!

Nagfifeeling na kaibigan,
Struggling Proletariat with a sore shoulder thanks to you

Mga Karanasan sa Paglalakbay

2006-10-10T13:35:00.000+08:00

I didn't know that MRTs now play the radio on their trips. For a moment, I thought I was riding the jeepney. The first time I heard it was last Saturday. Surprisingly, the song that was playing was Jamie Cullum's "It Ain't Necessarily So." Well played, MRT driver, well played.

Because, I swear, if I hear even the opening word of "Kelangan pa bang i-memorize yan?," I will rip the doors open and jump on the tracks.

I kid you not.

*****************************

I was riding the FX to work today and this woman who was sitting beside me started singing real loudly. Needless to say, I was startled. I thought I had entered the Twilight Zone or something. But upon closer inspection, I saw that she was listening to her mp3 player. Thank God! I thought I was sitting next to a psycho. Why do people do that? I'm looking for a word here, it's at the tip of my tongue...Deviant! There you go. Why do people do deviant behavior? It's just so weird. Not to mention frightening. I'm only deviant when I'm alone, hahaha!

*****************************

Kitchie and I were discussing about our masters dreams a while ago. Almost everyone I know back in college wants to take his/her graduate studies. It's a good sign, because it means that we value our education very much, and we're willing to sweat our way to success (more like crawl).

But anyway, I was telling her, we should have gotten Paris Hilton's inheritance because it sure won't be wasted on senseless things like getting drunk and hooking up with some random guy on the street. The things I could do with her money... Okay maybe I'll indulge a little and buy, like, the newly renovated Ford Mustang and have a tennis court and the machine that spews out tennis balls, and while we're at it, I'll probably get a Nokia N-90, and fine! Some home theatre. There, that's it. But the rest will be so totally spent on the betterment of society, which, you know, starts with me.

It's nice to know that my plans are very reassuring.

Project Pamy's Blog Resuscitation (PPBR)

2006-10-05T16:05:00.000+08:00

Save a blog before its too late!

This is a call for people to join Project Pamy's Blog Resuscitation (PPBR). ACT NOW.
Let us work together to convince Pamy to revive her blog and return to the blogosphere. We are hoping that in this case, peer pressure (and begging) can make a difference! Our message to Pamy is: Give blogging another chance. Reach out and touch that keyboard.

***

About PPBRProject organizers (i.e. Pamy’s friends) have been missing Pamy and her blog posts on her life, reflections on events, and impassioned rants/raves on various TV shows and jazz musicians.

Get Involved, How You Can Help:
1. repost this on your blog
2. comment on Pamy’s blog http://www.livejournal.com/users/jamypye or email her using our message:"Give blogging another chance. Reach out and touch that keyboard."
3. tag Pamy on blog/lj surveys, any survey
4. pester Pamy to revive her blog
5. spread the word about PPBR

And while we are at it, let's pester other bloggers who are also experiencing blog stupor (I'm looking at you, Tasha!)

You can also help support PPBR by sending donations in cash or kind to Joy and Tin. :D

Tagged by Rye part Deux

2006-10-03T16:25:00.000+08:00

1. Grab the nearest book.
2. Open the book to page 123.
3. Find the fifth sentence.
4. Post the text of the next 3 sentences on your blog along with these instructions.
5. Don't you dare dig for that "cool" or "intellectual" book in your closet! I know you were thinking about it! Just pick up whatever is closest.
6. Tag three people.

Zelophehad was from the Manasseh tribe, and he had five daughters, whose names were Mahlah, Noah, Hoglah, Milcah, and Tirzah.

From The Holy Bible, Youth Bible Edition, 2004.

At least you got ideas for your daughters' names in the future. Mahlah sounds nice, ain't it? Do NOT name your baby boy Zelophehad.

I tag Pamy, Ina, and Tasha.

Tagged by Rye

2006-10-03T16:07:00.000+08:00

Four jobs I've had
01. writer
02. research assistant
03. coordinator
04. electric typewriter writer

Four movies I can watch over and over
01. LOTR: Return of the King
02. Breakfast at Tiffany's
03. Singing in the Rain
04. The Incredibles

Four TV shows I love to watch
01. Prison Break
02. Lost
03. Project Runway
04. Ambush Makeover?

Four places I've been to on vacation (boracay not counted)
01. Singapore
02. Thailand
03. Nepal
04. India

Four favorite dishes edible stuff
01. Adobong Baboy
02. Lasagna
03. Chicken Tempura
04. Escargots??

Four places I'd rather be in
01. Paris
02. Venice
03. Center Court, Wimbledon
04. Middle Earth

Four people I'm tagging
01. Pamy (Project Pamy Blog Resuscitation)
02. Wengsky
03. Grace
04. Tasha

Pers Time

2006-10-02T13:29:00.000+08:00

Gusto ko ulit sumubok ng isang bagay for the first time. Yung tipong clueless ka talaga tapos either you have to do it or you want to do it. Exciting yun e. Parang nininerbyos ka pero at the same time excited ka kasi pers time nga e. At pwede ba, bago pa kung anu-ano ang pumasok sa isipan ng mga nagbabasa nito, I'm talking about wholesome stuff ok? Basta subukan mo lang ang isang bagay or activity like surfing, kumain ng escargot, bungee jumping, mag-present sa isang international conference.

Naaalala ko pa nung pers time akong tumapak sa airplane. Sobrang hindi ko malaman ang gagawin. Lalo na nung take-off na. Aaminin ko, natakot ako. Naalala ko yung pelikulang "Crash," yung isang commercial plane ang bumagsak sa mountain tapos the people were forced to eat the dead to survive. Uhm, freaky siya pero nag-stuck siya sa isipan ko all this time. Tapos nung take-off na, I was just staring at the runway, iniisip ko, "pag to di nag take off, good luck na lang dun sa mga bahay na sasagaan nito." Tapos nung nasa air na siya, all I could see was the sea below and naisip ko naman yung pelikulang "Jaws," kasi talagang na-freak out din ako sa kanya. Kahit nga sa bath tub hindi ako lumulusong kasi feeling ko lalabas dun si Jaws. Morbid talaga ang mga thoughts ko.

Tapos nagkaturbulence ng konti nung papalapit na kami sa Singapore. E di siyempre, medyo wobbly yung plane. E sobra, naisip ko na naman yung mga kung anu-anong ghastly things like plunging into the ocean or into a mountain. Sobrang paranoid ako nun. Nung mismong landing na, talagang I was just staring na naman sa runway. Inisip ko, "pag di kaya umeksato tong plane dun sa runway, saan kaya kami babagsak??" Hay naku, hindi talaga ako optimistic na nilalang.

Pero after four years of riding planes, going through airports, fastening/unfastening seatbelts, parang naging normal occurence na lang siya. Like riding a bus. Most of the time, I sleep out the flights.

Kelan kaya ulit ako magkakaroon ng ganong paranoid first time experience?

Bakit kasi pinangalanang Milenyo? Yan tuloy....

2006-10-02T10:38:00.000+08:00

Kahit konkreto yung bahay namin, nangamba pa rin ako na baka tangayin ni Milenyo noong Huwebes ng tanghali. Sobra, sa isip ko, ok lang lilipat naman na kami sa Sabado pero maski na no! Maging selfish ba?

Siyempre nung Friday nag-attempt akong pumasok kasi naisip ko, "hello, may araw! ano naman ang dahilan kung bakit hindi ako papasok?" Sabi ng sentido komon ko, "hello! wala kayang kuryente!!" Pero talagang pinanindigan ko ang aking pagiging proletariat. At ayun nga, nagmukha akong ewan. Siyempre pag dating ko dun sa office, walang kuryente and, ergo, walang pasok. Naman kasi, kaya nga may herd instinct, may common sense, may rationale ang tao (well, supposed to be).

Na-realize ko, hindi ako mabubuhay ng walang kuryente. Mga 2 araw din akong nakatitig lang sa kawalan. Hindi kinakaya ng isip ko. Kung sakaling nag-decide ang mundo ng mag-revert to the Stone Age, they can go ahead without me. Seriously. I probably won't survive anyway.

Focus. Kaya mo yan, Joy. Go lang ng go.

2006-09-19T08:58:00.000+08:00

Gusto ko mag-masters sa ibang bansa. Narinig mo yan, world? Gusto ko mag-masters. Pag sinabi ko ng ilang beses, magkakatotoo na siya. Naniniwala ako na makakalakad din ako sa kalye ng Paris. Narinig mo yan, Pranses? Sige pa, ano pa? Naniniwala ako na matutugtog ko ng maayos at marangal ang As Times Goes By sa piano. Na makaka-serve ako ng maayos sa tennis. Na balang araw, makikilala ko rin ang sarili ko.

Kaya for now, tiis lang. Tiisin mo ang mga kalungkutan, tiisin mo ang mga discontentment, tiisin mo ang sandamakmak na cognitive dissonance na nararamdaman mo kapag mag-isa ka lang at may pagkakataong magmuni-muni. Tiisin mo ang confusion, ang paulit-ulit na tanong na "Why? Why? Why? O Why?" Tiisin mo lang dahil one day, it will all end. Di ka na magtitiis. Hindi na.

Isipin mo na lang na may patutunguhan din ang lahat ng ito. Parang mga maliliit na bato na bubuo ng isang bundok, o buhangin na bubuo ng dalampasigan, o tubig sa La Mesa Dam.

This, too, shall pass. This, too, shall pass.

Focus, Campilan. Go for the platinum. Wag matatakot. Wag matatakot. Wag matatakot.

Grasping At Straws

2006-09-05T12:30:00.000+08:00

Diana Krall croons Boulevard of Broken Dreams like a hazy mist across my wandering consciousness, and the piano starts to wreak melodious havoc in my mind.

I am attempting to capture my thoughts as of this moment. I feel the need to think. Just think and engage myself in musings and ponderings like those poets puffing cigars and idly staring out the window. Only I'm not half as creative or romantic, for that matter. No sad lines or phenomenal revelation or unspeakable wisdom so much as dangle their shadows in my brain. My thoughts are very quiet and nearing to blankness.

I'm feeling the need to pull something out of thin air - something tangible but not quite. Something I can put my hands into. But it's all very priceless and mythic, and for the life of me , I do not see the point.

So I think I'm going to give up and let my brain wander away and be restless and nomadic. Sometimes, it's easier that way.

Or maybe I'm just having a headache.

Pweh! Ang sakit ng mata ko sa SPSS

2006-08-22T16:04:00.000+08:00

Kaya break time muna. Kaasar talaga yung software na yun... Umiikot ang paningin ko hanggang ngayon.

So what's new ba? Ay ayun last last week, nanood kami ng mga peyups friendships ko ng Fierce People. Pweh, napaka-weird na pelikula. Featured ang mga so-called Native American Indians pero mga Ifugao lang pala yun! Complete with gibberish Tagalog. Kaasar! At least meron nang katutubo na na-feature sa Hollywood (este Indie Film pala). Sana nanood na lang kami ng Sukob kung pelikulang Pilipino lang pala ang trip namin.

Hemmingway, premiere na ng Season 2 ng Prison Break sa US. Sigh. Buti pa sila nasisilayan na nila ulet si Wentworth aka The Pretty. Must not go to forums and spoil myself. Kaya mo yan, Joy, kaya mo yan. Panonoorin ko na lang ulit yung Season 1 DVD ko sa bahay kahit gasgas na gasgas na yun.

Matatapos na ang Sa Piling Mo. Buti na lang dahil hindi na kinakaya ng powers ko ang theme song na "Malaya lang ako...Ipagsisigawan kong mahal kita." Yak.

Siya, balik na ulet sa SPSS.

"Uptown Boy" and Other News

2006-08-15T09:23:00.000+08:00

Ok, this post is going to resemble something like a blind item in a gossip column for confidentiality clauses and what-nots, but I seriously gotta say this:

K5ers, remember Uptown Boy from a certain freshman GE course from a decade ago (or so it feels)?

Coz I seriously think he was one of the participants in the FGD I observed yesterday for our project. (coz you know I'm now, ahem, client.... gah what a joke).

I am about 75% sure it was him. I've been approaching this from a Sherlock Holmes point of view, looking at bits and pieces for confirmation during the whole discussion. Well, he said he's a graduate of our school. I don't really know his undergrad degree, but he said that he's currently taking his graduate studies. And then he was dropping all these alien words like "parasitic relationship," "commensalism," "vicarious," and also a bit of history, "Guttenberg," "Marx," and "Kiersgaard." I was like, "wha---!"

Dudes, who would have thought? Wasn't he the boyfriend of a very famous Pinoy band lead singer's sister back then? And then I looked at his profile and he's a... ahem, "pastor's son." Wha---??? Dudes, do you think I was just seeing things? It couldn't possibly be him, right? But he looks like him, I'm telling you! I think we spent enough time staring (albeit discreetly) at him whenever he picks his girlfriend up so I'm confident na namumukhaan ko siya.

Does anybody know his name? I have to find out once and for all!

In other client news, it was fun observing FGDs. Maybe because the researchers in charge of the project were from Ateneo, and I was from UP, and my colleague was from DLSU. The first thing I said when I find out was, "We're friends, right?" Ahahahaahah!

But they were really nice and friendly. One of them told my colleague, "Di ba na-ban yung basketball team niyo?" Throws a wink at me behind his back. Colleague: "Okay yan, para may manalo namang iba dyan." Hehe. Then they looked at me, and I was like, "Champion kami sa cheering!" Ahahahahaha! It was all in good fun but I bet we were gingerly fingering our secret knives in our bags, haha!

And that's when "Uptown Boy" made this momentous remark when asked about what he think is his relationship with Bible reading: "Parang sa gobyerno."

Wha---???

Update!

Raissa has kindly reminded me that he was in our Comm141 class and that he's already married to the said "girlfriend." Sheesh, I need to drink Sustagen Gold. Now I'm 100% it was him. Pastor's son... hmmmm.

Question.

2006-08-14T11:30:00.000+08:00

Mga katanungang gusto kong masagot bago ako mawalan ng hininga:

1. Kung hindi ako ako, naging sino kaya ako?
2. Tama ba ang binaybay kong landas o pinagpilitan ko lang ang sarili ko?
3. Ano naman ngayon na nabuhay ako?
4. Sadya bang malungkutin ang saloobin ko o dahil nasobrahan lang ang pagiging masayahin ko?
5. Mas nagawa ko kaya ang mga ilang bagay ng mas mabuti?
6. Hanggang saan ba ang kaya kong tiisin, pilitin, gawin, kayanin?
7. Ano ba talaga ang gusto ko sanang mangyari sa buhay ko?
8. Napatawa ko kaya ng malakas ang Diyos kahit isang beses man lang sa buong buhay ko?
9. Sa aling sandali kaya talagang naging masaya ako?
10. May ilaw ba talaga sa dulo ng tunnel o nagbukas lang ang pinto ng langit?

11. Nagiging ibang tao ba ako sa gabi at hindi ko lang alam? May suspetsa ako.

Bertdey Partey

2006-07-21T11:29:00.000+08:00

Pers time kung um-attend ng Birthday Party sa Jollibee. Hehe, pathetic ba? Bertdey kasi nung anak ng isang friendship ng ate ko. Hindi ko nga alam kung pano ako naimbitahan dun. Ang gusto ko lang naman dun e kapag lumabas na yung mascot. Siguro, against my pride, magpapapicture pa rin ako kasama si Ja-bee. Naalala ko kasi nung mga 7 years old pa ako, habang kumakain kami dun sa Jollibee, lumabas bigla yung mascot pero wala namang may bertdey nung time na yun. Tapos nagkagulo yung mga bata (isa na ako dun!). Nauntog pa nga ako sa pakpak ni Jollibee sa sobrang excitement ko. Pero, in fairness, alam ko namang tao lang din naman yung nasa loob nun. Ewan ko ba! Mga bata, mababaw kaligayahan.

Ano kaya isusuot ko?

In other news, vampiric na talaga itong blog ko. Sabi nga ni kristina, parang na-drain yung blood. Eh well, hindi ko talaga kayang i-speak ang HTML language. Gusto ko tinuturuan ako. Wala akong pasensyang turuan ang sarili ko, hehe. Ni hindi nga ako marunong magpost ng mga pictures at magbago ng link. Yung shoutbox ko, tinatamad na akong install ulet. Ewan ba, simplicity is beauty, yun na lang.

Blog Layout (?)

2006-07-14T14:15:00.000+08:00

O sweet chariot! What have I done now with this blog layout? As you can see, it has become some sort of bland, transparent creature and bless my soul, I don't know how to undo it.

This is tragic. Seriously.

How do I change the links again? What do these buttons do? What is the meaning of life?

Lipad

2006-07-06T10:55:00.000+08:00

Minsan nakakaaliw tingnan ang pagdaloy ng panahon. Kitang-kita mo ang paglipas ng mga segundo, ang paggalaw ng mga kamay ng orasan. Minsan parang parusa din, kasi alam mong yung segundo na ginugol mo para tumingin sa relo ay segundo na hindi mo na maibabalik. Pagkatapos ng isang buong araw, uuwi ka sa bahay at iisipin mo, "e ano naman ngayon? Ano naman nangyari?" Sabi nila wag daw mag-isip ng ganyan, kasi nakakabaliw. Wag daw bilangin ang araw, wag mag-ekis sa kalendaryo. Sige lang, enjoy lang. Itamasa ang bawat paglipas ng sandali, ang bawat pagkakataon na ikaw ay buhay at pwedeng gumalaw. Go lang. Go lang ng go.

Saan ba pupunta?

Self-Analysis, I wish I could quit you

2006-06-20T09:38:00.000+08:00

The world sometimes overestimates the youth. It's not like we are always brimming with brilliant ideas, and out to save the world. Sometimes, not even our age and our supposedly dynamic minds and our supposedly agile bodies can bring out the best results. Most of the time, I find myself just gathering up courage, mustering faith, and putting on a brave face in an attempt to pull my life together. I mean, I get it that the youth is the future, but why is the whole world so brutally expectant from them?

There is nothing more tragic than to be so young, so fresh, so hopeful, so idealistic...and be such a failure at the same time. But then again, history shows us that most of the great people who had ever existed started that way.

Into the Woods

2006-06-19T13:48:00.000+08:00

I was about to meet with my sister near the supermarket for our weekly grocery shopping, when I passed all the sport boutiques. Needless to say, given my new preoccupation with tennis, I ventured in. Sale silang lahat! Ano ba yan, nakakaloka! Ang powers ko humina, thank God I didn't have a credit card or I would have been in a world of trouble afterwards. I managed to buy this tennis skort (skirt+short) that has these pleats and all very Sharapova-like from Fila, and a wristband from Nike and socks from Puma, and a shirt from Adidas. I have absolutely no brand loyalty (my tennis racket is Spalding). Basta kung ano yung sale, hahaha! When my sister saw me with all the shopping bags she nearly wrestled me to the ground. Baka wala na daw akong pambili ng grocery (buti naman kahit papaano, meron pa).

Hay, ano ba ito? Nakaka-aliw ang may bagong hobby. I must never stray from the path again...ever.

Tennis Thoughts

2006-06-14T07:56:00.000+08:00

I started having my tennis lessons with Grace last, last Saturday at UP. It was so freaking exhausting, but it feels so nice afterwards - as if your body is just going to collapse and wither and spontaneously combust. I guess there's a good thing in being ambidextrous after all. But goodness, I couldn't have picked a better time to start my tennis lessons - right during the rainy season. Oh well, no guts no glory.

It was sort of embarassing at first, because really, what do I know? But the shame eases after a couple of swings. You just kind of go with the flow. My arms were aching like crazy afterwards and I've got blisters on my feet but heck, once again, no guts no glory.

I'm considering taking French lessons in the afternoon, right after tennis just so that I can exhaust my mind as well. That way, I can pretend that I'm very productive.

What's Going On?

2006-06-07T11:03:00.000+08:00

I seriously don’t understand myself. The more I try to, the more I end up being confused. I have lived in this body and have had this personality and mind frame for more than two decades and yet I still don’t understand it. It seems I have this huge question mark floating above my head and threatening to flatten me under its weight. No, seriously, I can already fell the edge pressing on the top of my skull. Sometimes, I just want to confront myself, literally step out of my consciousness and confront my physical self. I want to push myself around, bang my head against the wall, ask a lot of questions until I get some answers. "What do you want? What makes you happy? Where do you want to go? What do you want to do?"

But that’s just crazy, isn’t it? That can’t be healthy. Why would anybody want to do that? Why would anybody want to find out the truth about themselves?

*************

If ever there will come a day when I will find myself strolling down a sidestreet in Paris, I think I would just drown in the moment. I probably wouldn’t notice where my feet will take me, even if it’s straight into The Seine. I would just wander around and indulge in some senseless, overblown romanticism of the non-human, relationship kind. I would give in to the hopeless idealism that is buried beneath myself, and one that I desperately try to repress so that the world doesn’t get a chance to mess around with me. I would let it all the romanticism and idealism out, right there and then, on the sidestreet. It doesn’t matter if I’m alone or with someone or with something. It won’t even probably matter anymore. I probably won’t even matter anymore. Just the moment.

Gah! This pseudo-sorrow of the semi-poignant kind that seems to reek out of my blog is already nauseating. I must find a way to be cheerful and live up to my name. Must…think…of….happy….thoughts.

Oh, it’s hopeless.

Retouch

2006-05-29T14:51:00.000+08:00

If I can redo my life. I say I’ll change 70% of it. That’s a lot. I will wait for those big moments, those missed opportunities, those times that I made a fool of myself, and the things in my life that I could have done better. I will wait patiently in the shadows until those moments in my life arrive, and then I’ll take them by surprise. I’ll jump on them, wrestle them to the ground, and have the upper hand. I wonder, would my life be any better? Would I be a much better person? Would I be writing these what-ifs right now?

I suppose it’s okay to learn from my mistakes, but I wish the memories don’t hurt so much, or, at the very least, leave me so underwhelmed by the way life just passed me by. Ran me down, more likely. If this is really the beginning of my future, the foundation upon which my life shall be officially built up, then I hope there is enough to begin with.

****

I can’t remember if it was my grandma who told me that when a person gets older, he or she remembers the times when he or she took things for granted, or people. People remember how they took their youth for granted, or their mothers, or their fathers, or their lives in general. It’s only when they reach that certain point in their lives (more like age, I reckon) that they remember, and regret. I don’t know if it’s too early for me, but I’m already feeling that. There are so many things that I have already taken for granted now, what more in the near future? It seems that we cannot help it as human beings. We find pleasure in the current situations of our lives, especially when we were still young and carefree. The responsibilities of being adults, of being independent never even crossed our minds. And yet when these responsibilities come, we rarely recognize them as that. Responsibilities, I mean. Some people do not have a choice, because they are forced to be responsible. Some do seemingly have a choice, and these are the ones who can’t seem to get it.

Detour and Exit

2006-05-26T14:15:00.000+08:00

The theme of my thought patterns recently is a stretch of empty road. Just empty and silent, certainly not very cheerful. Or maybe there is solitude in loneliness afterall, I really don’t know. Somehow, I keep expecting some white rabbit in a waistcoat to cross my path, or one of those scavenger-creatures they had in Star Wars that attack travellers on the road. Anything, really, to keep me company.

****

Just recently, my officemate told me that when you reach the age of thirty, you better be sure that you are where you want to be, because there is no turning back after that. Your productive years are over, and you will not be as "hot" as you were when you just freshly rolled off the formal education system. Nobody will look at you and be, "Hey! This kid’s got something…" Firstly, you will be not be a "kid" anymore. More like used goods (not necessarily damaged). Secondly, whatever "something" you used to have will not be as potent as it was before. In short, time is laughing hard at your face, kiddo. It wasn’t exactly the most promising conversation ever, but point taken.

I have seven years. Seven freakin’ years. I feel old already. I can already hear the creaking of my bones and the wheels of my mind. Some invisible claustrophobia takes hold of my wandering senses. And the invisible walls are closing in, like some transparent prison cell. I blame the education system, I blame the extra high school years I was forced to take, the serious lack of discretion I had when I chose my undergraduate course, and I blame the inconstancy of my thoughts and desires and decisions. I blame it all on my youth, because until now, I don’t know what I want. And I am afraid that seven years later, I might still not know.

****

Sometimes, I wish I can just stumble on a career. You know, just completely stumble on it, even fall on my face. One day, I’m just doing this job and voila!, I realize I’m actually good with it and that I actually care about it. Like love at first sight. Yeah, that’s what I want to happen. I don’t want to think about my future, plan so meticulously, have all this annoying five-year plans, ten-year plans. No maps, no action plans, no mind-numbing ponderings at night (or during paydays). Just…stumble.

Spoils of War

2006-05-24T13:33:00.000+08:00

"When you take the risk of obedience, you find solid rock beneath you – and markers, evidence that someone has traveled this route before."

This was my calendar’s quote for today, and for some reason it grabbed my erratic ponderings. The "obedience" part here can be anything – obedience to what your heart wants, what God wants for you, what your family wants for you. I suppose it all depends on personal interpretation. I’m going to interpret it as both what you want for yourself and what God wants for you. Sometimes, they are two different things. Ok, scratch that. Most of the time, they are two different things. But I cannot help but wonder, how do you know which is which? I suppose you just find out once you’re already walking the route with a spring on your steps, and then find yourself in a ditch or a quicksand or a dead end. What’s the best reaction to this, though? "Ooopps, my bad. I suppose I was walking the wrong route?" And markers? Where are they? Sometimes you can’t even find any. It’s like walking across a dessert and the only "markers" are dead bones and vultures high in the sky, and circling down towards you. I suppose they can be considered "evidence" - evidence of those who attempted to take the same road as you did and ended up, well, predisposed.

But these are all ghastly thoughts. Not fit for a 23-year old who, supposedly, has her life ahead of her. I think I’ll dream of Paris instead.

*****

Because I’m an escapist, I’m going to throw some bitter eulogy here. Now that Elliott’s gone, I’m never going to watch AI again. Ever. I am never going to emotionally invest myself in a reality show again, hoping that there would be no politicking and commercializing. Ever. These producers think they can toy with people’s emotions and manipulate raw data and get away with it. I am so through.

Whoo! (aka Shallow Things part II)

2006-05-10T10:52:00.000+08:00

Since I get home at about 6 in the evening and Star World was crazy enough to move the AI airtime to 5 to make way for Grey's Anatomy (blegh...), I went to watch the AI performances at rickey.org. (I know there is a replay at 8 and ABC5 airs it at 10:30, but come on! By that time, the novelty is gone... Okay, the truth is, I just want to watch it now. NOW!) Anyways, everything was kinda blahdeeblah and then voila!: Elliott "Misery" Yamin brought it ohwn tonight! When he was singing "Trouble" and he was like, "Ahm eeeevillll, and misery is my middle name...," everyone in the audience was like, "woohoo! that's right, baby!.." The band was putting on the grooves, he's got all the light shows that Chris usually has, even Paula was so enthralled that she had to do some cabaret moves (ick...). And his first song wasn't so bad either. It had that "I-Had-A-Dream-Martin Luther King" vibe with it, but it's alright you know? I feel better (a bit) because, if fate is really, really twisted and he gets voted off tomorrow, at least he went out singing, you know what I'm saying? (although his Moody's Mood for Love was seriously his best ever). But I do sincerely hope he stays....

***********************************

In other news, poor Michael is getting a lot of obstacles put his way in Prison Break. So many people just really want out of jail, Michael, what do you expect? And let's face it, Mike, breaking out of a maximum security prison is never going to be easy even with your elaborate tattoo and detailed planning and your breathtaking face. Oh wait, the face actually helps. If I were him, I'd stare and brood and smile my way out jail, because I seriously think it will work with him. Or if all things fail, he can recite a Shakespearean sonnet to the guards since Wentworth's an English major and all (from Princeton, at that). So yeah, Michael, you've got lots of options...

**********************************

That Gulong ng Palad is getting more and more ludicrous as the days pass by. I don't know how the writers can seriously read the dialogues they wrote and be like, "mehn, this is some cool stuff. I've got it made!" Come on! How many more times should the heroine be beaten up, be tricked, cry, be in misery, be angsty, and all that melodrama jazz? Also, there are just waaaaay too many fantaseryes populating local primetime. By ten years, every Filipino will be sitting glassy-eyed in front of their TV screens and waving imaginary swords and uttering some weird spells and talking like they're back in the pre-Magellan days.

***********************************

Yeah, that's just about it. Escapist is my middle name.

Mga Shallow Things

2006-05-05T12:34:00.000+08:00

Mavo-vote-off na ata si Elliott sa next results night ng American Idol. I don't want him to go. He's seriously underrated. At bakit ganun, kagabi nung nag-perform sila ng group song, sa may last part, finocus lahat ng faces ng mga contestants except for Elliott. I mean, come on TPTB!, can you get any more obvious? (By the way, I didn't like that group song. May choir pa?? Ano 'to, sister act?? I'm sorry, walang tatalo dun sa Joyful, Joyful na group presentation ng mga estudyante sa Sister Act 2, kthnx.)

**********

My gosh, ano kayang mangyayari sa next episode ng Prison Break? Parami na ng parami ang mga sumasali sa "Breakout Club"! Michael, this ain't a party! Think, man, think! Get rid of the unnecessary baggage, kthnx. Anyway, grabe nadidistract talaga ako sa mga scenes ni Wentworth, pag finofocus yung face niya (especially his blue steely eyes) parang nalilimutan ko yung mga dialogue, yung plot, na nasa mundong ibabaw pala ako.

**********

Sobra, muntik na akong mapaiyak (as in nag-sting talaga yung mga mata ko) dun sa preview ng Maalala Mo Kaya, 15th year anniversary, yung starring si Vilma Santos. Talagang naantig yung damdamin ko nung sinabi ni Vilma, "... e kapag ang isang magulang, nawalan ng anak, anong tawag sa kanya?" or something to that effect, tapos napahandusay siya sa floor sa sobrang hinagpis tapos nag-grand entrance yung orchestra version ng Theme Song. Talaga naman! Kaya ayokong nanonood ng MMK.

**********

Kagabi, napanood ko yung isang scene ni Piolo at ni Juday, nung nalaman na ni Piolo na si Katherine (tama ba?) at si Jennifer ay iisa (si Juday yun), I get the distinct feeling na it's supposed to be some angsty, pseudo-romantic encounter pero parang naging bugbugan. Aba, ilang beses ba namang hinila-hila ni Piolo yung braso ni Juday, at pinagsisigaw-sigawan. Natakot ako para sa buhay nung character ni Juday, in fairness. At tsaka, bakit ganun, sa buong kasaysayan ata ng telebisyong Pilipino wala talaga silang ma-hire na extra na realistic mag-portray ng pulis. Aba, talaga namang choreographed na choreographed yung linya pati yung pagsasalita enunciated. Tapos walang expression yung mukha, tsaka yung mga mata parang may binabasa talagang script. Uhm, Mr. "Policeman," I doubt na ganyan ka-clear mag-explain ang mga real-life na pulis.

**********

Ang sayang magpakababaw minsan. It's like a breath of fresh air. Bakit kasi siniseryoso ang buhay?

Disgruntled

2006-04-28T08:15:00.000+08:00

Nakakaasar maglakad sa kahabaan ng isang boulevard o avenue sa Maynila. Mas nightmare kapag tatawid. Lalo na kapag rush hour, kung kelan pagod ka na at kung pwede lang magteleport pauwi ay ginawa mo na. Mainit, mausok, lubak-lubak, hindi maintindihan ang traffic lights (minsan kahit red na, nakikiramdam pa rin ako, baka humarurot pa rin yung mga dyipni drayber, aba, pakialam ba nila sa isang pedestrian, pagod na rin sila no). Nakakapagod makipagpatintero habang nanonood ang mga "traffic enforcers." Sumali na kaya sila sa laro, para may magawa naman sila. A basta ako, kahit kumaway-kaway na dyan si Mr. MMDA at magtrapik-trapikan, titingin pa rin ako left and right, susulyap one last time sa traffic light, sisiguraduhin kong red nga yung ilaw at hindi gumagalaw ang mga gulong ng mga sasakyang gustong-gusto nang humarurot. Pweh, hassle.

Buti kung pagtawid tapos na ang kalbaryo, siyempre sasakay pa ako sa dyip. At yun ang totoong kalbaryo, yun ang Via Dolorosa. Nakakawalang-gana talaga yung mga drayber na lumalakad ka pa lang papunta dun sa pinakadulong upuan dahil yung mga pasahero urong ng urong (if I know, naaaliw sila na makita yung mga pumapasok na pasahero na magkakuba-kuba hanggang sa pinakadulong upuan), e umaandar na. Hello, awkward kaya. Hindi ba nila nakikita na hirap na hirap na nga yung pasaherong makahanap ng upuan, e ngayon kelangan pa niyang magbalanse? Pero natitiis ko pa nga yun e. Yung mga uber-bad trip talaga yung mga pasaherong ayaw magpaupo, yung tipong walang nakikita, nagpi-pretend na walang taong nahihirapan sa pag-upo. At siyempre, yung mga walang kamatayang hindi-ako-konduktor-kaya-wag-mo-akong-pag-abutin-ng-bayad-mo types of pasahero na talaga namang deadma! Kulang na lang isigaw mo na sa mukha nila, “BAYAD! Kung ayaw mong mag-abot ng bayad, huwag kang umupo sa dulo, or better bumaba ka na lang.”

Hay! Ewan ko ba kung bakit may mga drayber naman na gustong-gustong masubsob yung mga pasahero nila kapag pumpipreno sila. Trip lang kaya nila? "Nakakainip naman ang trapik, mapaglaruan nga ang mga pasahero..." Buti kung isang beses, aba, halos all the time. Kasi naman, makakita lang ng isang pulgada ng daan na pwedeng pagsingitan, talaga namang isisingit. Tapos, pag may kamuntikan nang mabangga na sasakyan, titingnan ng masama yung drayber ng kabilang sasakyan at bubusinahan pa, e sino bang may sabing pagkasyahin mo yung dyip mo sa maliit na espasyo na yan? Hay naku! Minsan ayaw pang tumabi, balak pang gawing Indiana Jones yung mga pasahero at patalunin sa gitna ng mga rumaragasang sasakyan na walang nakikita kundi kalsada lang. Kaya ako, pag bibili ako ng kotse dapat may kasamang chaffeur. Hindi kaya ng powers kong makipagkompitensya sa mga drayber. Aba, isipin mo kung may kotse ka at nagmamaneho during rush hour, ikaw uuwi lang, e yung mga drayber, naghahanap-buhay. E sinong mas motivated nyan? (motivated as in kahit ano gagawin). Ang lakas pa kamong magpatugtog ng radyo yung mga yun. Tapos hindi ka tuloy maibaba sa gusto mong babaan dahil ilang beses ka munang sisigaw ng “PARA!”, tutuktok sa bubong, sisipol, pati mga ibang pasahero naki-join na sa misyon mong makipag-communicate sa headbanger na drayber. Tapos akala mo kung anong pinakikinggan, e YES FM lang naman. Pag naririnig ko yung boses-tiyanak na korning mag-joke at pag pinapatugtog na nila yung theme song na "mula ng makilala ka, ako'y napaakit mo..." parang gusto kong maging si Hitler at lipulin ang buong mundo. Uunahin ko lahat ng mga pampublikong sasakyan na nagpapatugtog ng YES FM.

Hay naku, bad trip pa pag dating dun sa barangay namin. Pano ba naman piyesta. Gabi-gabi na lang isang isla ng tao ang pumupunta dun sa barangay hall para manood ng mga kung anu-anong beauty pageant - may pambata, pambabae, panlalake, pang-in between. Ayaw pang magpadaan sa mga taong hapong-hapo na at gusto ng umuwi at unlike them, ay nagtatrabaho. Pano, baka daw ma-miss nila yung talent presentation ng crush nila. E if I know, sasayaw lang naman yun ng kung ano man ang usong novelty song ngayon na may mga innuendo at walang katuturang mga mensahe, na pinapatugtog din sa YES FM. Kagabi habang ginagamit ko ang matulis kong siko para makatawid sa dagat ng mga taong titig na titig sa stage habang rumarampa yung mga babaeng contestants, halos hindi ako makahinga. Naisip ko baka kung ano na yung mga natapakan ko. Muntik pa akong madapa kasi may hump pala at siyempre hindi ko na nakita. Sabi ko sa sarili ko, "pag nag-stampede dito, talaga namang magagalit ako hanggang sa huli kong hininga." Isipin mo, gusto mo lang namang umuwi, nadawit ka pa sa trahedya.

Sa sobrang asar ko, napakain ako ng fishball ng makatawid ako sa kabilang pampang. Talaga namang inatake ko yung fishball. Hindi ko na inalintana yung mga hepatitis-hepatitis na yan, bird flu, etc. Bigla kong naalala yung fishbolan sa Ilang-Ilang Dormitory nung nasa campus ako. Weird, pero bigla akong nalungkot nung tinitingnan ko yung mga fishball na niluluto ni manong (na sumusulyap-sulyap din sa stage dahil tao lang din naman siya na gusto ring lumigaya). Eto yung mga moments na ayaw na ayaw ko - yung mga pagkakataon na asar na asar ako sa lipunang kinagagalawan ko at naaalala ko yung buhay kolehiyo ko at yung mga panahon na idealistic pa ako at naniniwala sa world peace at social change.

Kasi tingnan mo naman ngayon, pagod na pagod ako, nausukan na ako na parang tinapa, tapyas na ang takong ng sapatos ko dahil sa mga lubak, gulo-gulo na ang buhok ko, naghihiyawan ang mga tambay habang gumiling-giling ang mga contestants, at nalaglag pa yung isa sa mga fishball ko. Sa totoo lang, at this point, at this very hour, at this very moment, nakakapagod magkaroon ng pakialam.

And I Can't Fight This Feeling Anymore

2006-04-26T11:02:00.000+08:00

Nope, I'm not falling in love (sheesh!)

I just have a suspicion that at night, the world must be turning upside down, subtly, really slow and quiet, like a cat tiptoeing on the roof. It must be when the sands of time blow slow-motion and all the people in the world get visits from the thought fairies, and all their dreams get intermingled with visions of tomorrow, or fear, or hope, or anything else in between. The night seems to be a time for incarceration, for being a captured audience of one's own spectacle reel of daily tribulations and triumphs (the tribulations get more screen time, of course). Even sleeps holds no escape, only reprieve, perhaps another avenue of intrapersonal communication.

I don't understand this feeling. I've been having it for the longest time, carrying it around like a pocketwatch, sewn along the inner linings of my thoughts. I dare not think I'm going psychiatric. There is absolutely no reason. Besides, therapy is overrated. I look at my life, I look at the path I am treading, and I don't see what's the problem. Nothing is wrong but something is awry. I don't know what and I don't know where. Maybe I'm supposed to be in perpetual confusion, I'm just not getting it.

Maybe I should just throw myself at work, get lost in the urgencies and necessities of daily life, get topsy-turvy... get real. The night may be cold reality, but morning might provide a distraction.

The other day, I found my old high school French journal at the bottom of a box in the storage room. I flipped it open and read an entry, and got a cold kick in the guts when I found myself reading something I wrote almost 6 years ago, "Madame, j'aime ce projet, mais s'îl vous plait, à l'avenir, ne nous donnez pas les projets recherches. Je deteste ça" (Madame, I liked this project but please, in the future, don't give us any more research projects. I hate it.) Maybe that's what's wrong.

Lifetography

2006-04-06T10:15:00.000+08:00

Maybe life is like the movies in the sense that it is made up of stillshots. However, in the movies, you can edit them, cut something out, put something in; in real life, all you have is one shot. I can't shake the feeling that I might have swerved somewhere, must have been at the wrong place at the wrong time. Or maybe, I'm just exactly where I need to be - where the lighting is all good and the scenery just right. Maybe I am in a Kodak moment.

Or maybe not.

Commotion

2006-04-05T13:46:00.000+08:00

Sometimes I want to grapple my life into some semblance of order or, at least, tranquility. I want to be calm and turbulent at the same time. I want to put my feet on solid ground. I want to walk out in the streets and really feel the warmth of the day. I want to arrange my thoughts and put them into categories, into compartments, into a search engine.

I want the days to pass by and time to stand still.

Something and nothing are both going on in my life.

Implode

2006-04-03T12:39:00.000+08:00

When I was young(er), there was nothing vague about me. I was fearless and careless, and brilliant. I'm not saying this in arrogance because God knows I've had my share of humble pie. But technically speaking, I was. I was loquacious and amiable and my academic life was as straight as an arrow. I had pretty good social skills. I remembered that my path seemed so clear, my destiny so meticulously mapped out, and I could practically hear my future unclasping with a thunderous clang. There was nothing subtle about who I was going to be or where I wanted to be. I had a squeaky-clean slate. I was following the yellow-brick road towards Emerald City, and I was right on schedule.

But now? I don't know.

Traverse

2006-03-28T10:09:00.000+08:00

Sheryl Crow says that "everday is a winding road; I get a little bit closer, feeling fine." It sounds sagacious when sung, actually. But what if the road never winds down? What if it's all uphill work and then suddenly plunging down, going awry at every turn, brushing against dead ends and cliffhangers and then suddenly emerging into a beautiful view of the countryside only to be drenched a few minutes after by a robust storm? I suppose there are some "fine" moments somewhere there, but the road never winds down. It doesn't, really. It keeps going and going like that Energizer bunny, and you can scarcely keep up.

But that's alright. Sometimes, it's nice to go out walking after midnight.

Peering in

2006-03-27T15:40:00.000+08:00

At some point, we are all like Daniel going into the lion's den. Of course, it doesn't help that we are not sure whether the lions are tame or not. I'm guessing they're not, and we're always on the brink of divine plea for instantaneous help. But no matter, we have to go in. We must or we'll never ever be brave enough to be anyone or anything for that matter. What does it matter that we will not escape unscathed or even escape at all? We are there, the lions are there, and that's the reality of it.

Sabit

2006-03-17T11:35:00.000+08:00

I remember the first time I stepped on foreign soil - circa 1997, Dhaka, Bangladesh. It feels like it was ages ago, and I suppose it was. I can barely remember any other emotion I felt at that time, except fear. What have we gotten ourselves into that time? I suppose it's a normal reaction, to have some sort of trepidation in new environments unless, of course, you have nerves of steel or the confidence of Caesar himself.

I never thought it was going to change me or anything. At that time, it seemed impossible to get anything good out of it. I was 14, so I must forgive myself. But it was probably that one point in my life history where my life swerved into some uber-sharp corner. It's a miracle that I was able to keep myself on the road. But there I was, I have suddenly become a third-culture kid as what people fondly call international nomads. I wasn't really, but at some point I was. I realized the world is large and small at the same time. That it's both good and bad. So are people. So is life.

N0w, almost ten years later, my parents are at it again. And I'm getting left behind. It seems so unreal to me now, now that I have reconnected myself to my roots, now that I have regained a strong foothold on native ground. It seems so unjust to now suddenly have an onslaught of memories of adolescence spent in Dhaka, of all the wonderful times and places seen and people encountered. I have never appreciated that experience as much as I do now. It feels as if I have stumbled into an old attic in the house and found my old childhood paraphernalia - the favorite dolls now worn and covered with dust, the stationary sets, the bike now missing a wheel. It's all very sinewy, and I hear the creaking of doors in my mind, and the spiderwebs clearing.

It's not entirely poignant...but almost.

Better Ruined than Changed?

2006-02-08T14:08:00.000+08:00

Change is such a terrifying thing. Why do we even have to do it? Why should we be any different from who we are now? Speaking from my personal point of view, it’s because the “me” right now falls short in the virtues that separate men from animals, children from adults. And it’s not the self-criticism of somebody who has an extremely competitive nature and wants to be the perfect person in the whole world. No way, I wouldn’t even dream of it. It’s just an observation of a mere individual who finds a lot in her that needs to be seriously changed. Sometimes, I envy the testimonies of those whose lives were turned upside down – those gamblers and alcoholics and drug addicts and manic depressives who had a divine encounter and boom! they are a changed man or woman. I wonder why is transformation seemingly much easier if there are huge changes, the in-your-face kind of changes? Why is there so much fuss when someone makes a 180 degree kind of turn in their lives; but the subtle changes in personality, the teeny-weeny attempts to be more truthful, more respectful, more understanding, and, my favorite one, more patient, are overlooked and underrated? Aren’t they just as important and difficult?

I do not mean to downplay the significance of major changes in a person’s life, I just want to put change in general into some sort of perspective. Personally, I don’t think I have made any progress in my desire to be more patient, no more than a dog learns how to fly, but the desire remains nevertheless, and, thank God!, even the attempt. At some point, we all have the desire and the attempt to change. As Sheryl Crow puts it, “a change will do you good.” But God doesn’t seem content with just a change. C.S. Lewis warns us to be careful when we ask God to help us change or drop some bad habits that we have. He says God doesn’t stop with one change, He’ll keep spotlighting all our flaws until none are left. To most of us, it’s a frightening idea. What if we fail to change? Are we going to get stuck with some stunted growth versions of our real selves? Will there ever come a point when God finally puts down his paint brush, looks dejectedly at our unfinished portrait, and says, “Tsk tsk, there’s no use. This one just can’t be neither restored nor improved, no matter how I try.” I doubt it, but I would understand if it would be a difficult job. I mean, it’s much easier to change some object, some pliant thing that, although it might not cooperate or even help speed up the change, at least it does not resist. If you paint a wall yellow, there is nothing that wall can do.

But humans? Humans are the worst! They kick and bite and rebel and complain and are wishy-washy and even go back to their old, bad habits for old time’s sake. Worst of all, they do not even appreciate the change, the genuine concern for the betterment of their souls. If God would only wave a wand and turn us into a bunch of angels, it would have been much easier, but alas! where would be the freedom in that? It’s the process itself, that slow, snail-pace attempts to choose right from wrong day by day that are so important in a human being. It’s also in the process itself, I believe, that God loves us the most.

A Jolly Good Fellow

2006-02-07T18:17:00.000+08:00

It seems such a taxing thing to try to be good. It goes against all human nature, like a tsunami, and the best that people can do is cling to trees and wooden posts and hope they don’t get swept away. How come being good doesn’t come naturally to people who “were created in God’s image?” (I don’t know about you, but I see no resemblance between myself and an ape). And every time we try to be good, we fall flat on our face. But, at the same time, we cannot not be good. It’s a never ending battle. No wonder the greatest Christian writers such as C.S. Lewis spent their time trying to find out about this innate longing to be good and the natural corruption of the human nature. We are always torn. We desire to be at peace with everyone and with God and be spiritual people who do what is right at all costs, but once we set about to doing it, it’s worse than trying to fight fire with a piece of wood.

We just lose, most of the time. And how, we are just flesh and bones, and easily seduced by flatteries and mere scraps of pleasure that this world offers us. All the world has to do is crook its diamond-studded finger at us, and we come crawling towards it, like a worm. But, at the same time, we know that the world has nothing to offer, nothing that we can keep for eternity, and certainly nothing that would ease the suspicion within all of us – the suspicion that part of us, as human beings, do not belong in this world. Ask all those rich and famous people who have broken marriages, who jump off buildings. The world made them happy for a while, but in the end, it just played around with them, and left them with nothing but the desire to die or worse, to get lost.

I have a suspicion that the world, at best, tries to ease the alienation that we feel by luring us with fame and wealth and success. It tries to defocus us from what we really and essentially want, that desire to be somewhere else than here, to overcome the trivialities of being a mere human being, like a senile person who catches a glimpse of a beautiful memory and desperately attempts to keep it. What we really want is to be the masterpieces of the Artist, to be able to overcome the infinite flaws that we find in ourselves, to do good in the end of all things. I think a lot of people (although they would probably deny it) would trade everything they owned just to find that mere goodness within themselves, and keep it.

Last Day in Market Research

2005-12-29T20:35:00.000+08:00

I didn’t cry, but it’s sad nevertheless.

There will always be grief in parting, doesn’t matter if it’s because you have to leave or because you need to leave. The sorrow is all the same, well… almost the same. There’s a mute melancholy in seeing an empty cubicle, a blank computer monitor, or an empty desk, as if some shadow suddenly whispered in your ear, “Why is it empty? What has gone wrong?” It reminded me of all the “empty somethings” that have accumulated in my memory over the years. Like all those empty houses we left every three years or so, or all the empty lockers that I closed in all those schools I attended, or all the miles of empty road, seas, and skies that I travelled upon. Like some freakish déjà vu.

I wonder if all the “impermanence” has finally turned me into a nomad by identity. Maybe, something inside me always has to look, to search, to go somewhere in an everlasting pursuit of self at the very least and the footsteps of God at the very most. I am suddenly afraid by the gravity of my restlessness, by the fact that I need to be out there somewhere because I just… have to.

Will there ever be a time when I don’t have to pack, to move, to wander, to wonder, to gaze at faraway seas and distant skies, to be tantalized by the mere glimpses of paths less traveled by? I don’t know, but I won’t beat myself with a club over it. Life was never permanent in the first place.

After-Christmas Woes

2005-12-25T23:21:00.000+08:00

Nothing like missing the good old days that can make a grown (age-related) woman misty-eyed. I miss the old school Christmas, as in old school. I remembered when I was way, way younger, like a decade and a half younger, receiving simple things like a ballpen or a stationary set or a hanky was like major thrill. It was all so relatively simple. I wasn't really the type that rolled around the floor and had tantrums whenever I didn't get what I want. I was just one of those average (well, for that time period, I was) child who got all excited every Christmas and actually wrote to Santa on an "intermediate pad" and asked for a bike or a doll or little spiders for 25 cents each, and got really gleeful whenever family or relatives visited on Christmas Eve, and sang from the top of her lungs the good old-school Christmas carols, and ate everything in sight (except veggies).

And afterwards, I would just be like, "Man, that was good. That was a nice Christmas."

But now, it's all about stress and budgeting and then getting stressed some more and getting so unbelievably tired from all the Christmas shopping, and, like, a million Christmas parties and a million exchange gifts. Frankly, it has gotten quite irritating. Of course, I don't mean that I am irritated at Christmas itself. It's a joyous occassion, it's the birth of Jesus! What I really dislike the most, is the cultural practices (mostly borrowed from the "West") that have made everything so complicated. I had half a mind to just walk away and say to the world, "You guys, go ahead, party up, go wild, buy stuff, spend some more, attend some more parties, worry some more about whether you have enough gifts for everyone and whether your guests would like what you prepared for the Noche Buena, be conscious about your social appearance and please everyone all the way to the Congo.

As for me, I'll just be hanging about the manger and thanking God for bothering to come into this world to save such ungrateful, self-obsessed, vain, selfish creatures."

But then I guess that's really the reason why He came at all. To save us from ourselves.

Lonesome Road

2005-12-22T17:14:00.000+08:00

They say that the road to freedom is one fraught with danger, and with regrets. They say it’s for the the brave, the desperate, the discontented, the restless, the confused, the seekers and wild dreamers, those that yearn for something greater than themselves.

I do not know if I am truly any of those and yet, I find myself on the very road itself, staring straight ahead up to what my vision can see from the horizon far off. Endless miles of unknown under endless miles of blue sky, or black, whichever is more romantic.

There is a certain loneliness to discovering a new path, like being left alone in a deserted highway in the middle of the night, and the cold wind comes but it’s rather comforting. Somehow, the road is yet another adventure, yet another travel, yet another chance to know myself more and more.

There are things that you can never change, but they are those that you need to change. It’s all a matter of necessity, or instinct, or divine wisdom, or all of them mixed together.

All I can really say is that for once, having this chance is more than enough for me.

I've got Chills, They're Multiplyin'...

2005-12-02T17:59:00.000+08:00

Aaaahh, nothing like stress/fatigue/harass-ness to start your December right. I find myself walking like a living dead almost every day. Not even the twinkling-twinklling of the Christmas lights or the Christmas carols can take away the loneliness and the tiredness. I find myself barely giving my bed a pat before falling on it like timber.

Tomorrow, it will be the same thing all over again. I will drag myself out of bed, walk down the noisy streets towards the office, go home and drag myself back to bed. If Rudolph were to run me over with his sleigh and laugh out loud with his reindeer-amigos over my prostrate body, I couldn't feel and care less.

That's how tired I am.

Shoot, how depressing.....

Door Shut, Locked and the Key Thrown in the Pacific Ocean

2005-11-16T17:26:00.000+08:00

Dear all SSS People to whom this letter applies (you know who you are),*

Life sucks I know.

It must suck to sit 8-9 hours a day doing the same things over and over again – filing loans, pensions, SSS IDs, etc. etc. etc… I understand, sure, ain’t I having the same vicious cycle? It must be worse to not even be compensated enough for the amount of effort you put into your work. I understand, sure, you must feel that even if the government pays you a million bucks, it will never be enough to alleviate the stress and monotony that your sheer, hard labor brings.

But may I just remind you why you’re there. To help people. That’s right, to make life easier for them by ensuring that they are getting their loans, that their companies don’t steal their contributions and that people understand the different processes involved in social welfare. That’s right, you’re not supposed to piss us off by wearing this I’m-so-important-I-can-make-all-of-you-weep attitude wherein you move ever so slowly and communicate ever so rudely, causing distress and sheer hopelessness to the people who are in line. For two freakin’ hours.

I appreciate that you have such confidence in our mental abilities to determine what exactly you mean when you say, “sa kabilang counter,” “dyan sa kabila,” “kuha ka ng form.” But, honestly, we don’t get it. What counter? Your counters do not have their proper labels. What forms? You don’t have any instructions in the building as to what types of forms there are for certain services that people want to avail. Will it kill you to put up an instruction guide to tell people what counters are for what, what are the things they have to bring, instead of forcing people to ask each other for help, or even the guard, who is just as clueless, and just as rude.
You know, I can tolerate all this, sure. I was born in this country, I practically lived here all my life. I get the hang of it. But what really makes me ill (and by ill, it means I want to pull out my innards and wrap them around my neck) is when you put all these promotional posters/brochures all the over place which boast of “world class service,” and pictures of people happily lining up and filling up their forms. It just ain’t real. Face it. There’s no use fooling yourself or us. Everytime I look at all your “vision and mission” and “achievements,” it makes me wonder if we’re talking about the same institution or some make-believe one in La-La Land.

It makes me want to kick myself for sacrificing half of my day and my hard-earned daily wage just so that I can fulfill my duty as a citizen of this country by undergoing the legal processes of being officially pissed, angered, and confused all in the wonderful name of social welfare. What welfare? What exactly is this “world-class service” you are so proud of? Is it the Information counter lady who takes half a minute to listen to what people are asking before unceremoniously shoving some forms in their faces hoping that one of those forms will shut them up? Or wait, maybe it’s the one-man team you have over at the verification counter aka all-around counter who moves like a crippled turtle? I may not be the smartest person in town. Heck, I may not even be smart! But I do know that if one counter gets horribly clogged up with annoyed, tortured lines of people, it’s time to add some personnel. But you know, maybe you have a different theory or something. Maybe you think, "We’re Filipinos, we can handle all this confusion and inconvenience! We’re born to endure! We’re made of steel! We’re ruthlessly determined to achieve our goals! Heck, we can turn people into stone with our determined, steely glares."

Well, you know what? I’ve been giving all of you the steely look and none of you are turning into stone!

And, please, when people ask questions, don't give them this stoic, masked annoyed look as if they're pesky, stupid flies buzzing around your ear. I'm sorry, but when people say they don't know - they...don't...knooowww.

Oh I know! What probably makes you world-class is…that wonderful invisible sign you have at the counters which say what documents people should bring so that they don’t end up waiting in line half of the day just to be told, “Sorry, you’re missing this and that. You’ll have to come back tomorrow. Next!”

Wonderful! Wonderful! You guys are the A-list of all professionals. You do this country proud, surely.

You might think I’m so unfair, judging your fabulous institution based on one SSS branch. You’re probably accusing me now of hasty generalization. Well, you know what? If you’ve got one terribly flawed branch, you just ain’t good enough. If you make people wait for such ridiculously long hours and confuse them with your overrated red tape, you ain’t helping. You’re doing the greatest inconvenience for the greatest number of people. Do you really want to help or do you just want to pretend to help?

Now I’m tired of berating you and most, if not all, the government institutions. I’m tired of caring enough to say something. I’m tired of hoping that there’ll be some progress and some change. So you know what? I’ve had it! You can do whatever you want – you can piss people off, you can make their lives a living hell! You can inconvenience me multiples times and in all angles possible. You can even make me want to kill myself right there and then by slicing my wrists with all your silly forms!

I’m just through with all of your selfishness.

Never looking back,
Joy

*to those who are sincerely doing their jobs and genuinely helping people, I sincerely and genuinely thank you

I've Got the World on a String

2005-10-27T20:59:00.000+08:00

Sometimes, we have a habit of carrying the world’s burden on us like some hallucinogenic martyr. We carry our “miseries” around like a diamond-studded tiara. We mope around, complain, whine, sigh with discontent, blame a multitude of people and creatures for the “injustices” we “suffer,” mope some more, complain some more, pretend to be nice to people we don’t really like, and, finally, take the people who truly care about us for granted.

But, when I think of it, when I step back from my silly, ludicrous world of pretend-agony and narcissistic self-pity, I know it ain’t so bad. My life ain’t so bad. I’m not begging the streets for food, I’m not selling my body for money, I’m not seeking revenge for people who ruined my life, I’m not injecting myself with drugs and pretend I’m in La Isla Bonita, I don’t have delusions of self-grandeur, I’m not even nursing a broken heart. Tomorrow, I still have a family, I still have a house, I still have a college diploma, I still have friends, I still have my job, I still have a future, I still have a museum of beautiful experiences, I still have good memories, and I still have God. What is so bad about it? Really, Victorette Joy, on a scale of 1 to 7 with 1 being “my life totally sucks, it’s unbelievable” and 7 being “it’s all good, yeah baby” where would you rate your life right now? I’ll probably rate it a solid 6. Really, honestly, amazingly.

I’m just histrionic, that’s all.

Oh, great!

2005-10-02T20:15:00.000+08:00

Last Saturday, I waited for my sister at Powerbooks in Megamall. After I purchased The Chronicles of Narnia (I was dirt poor after I paid for the whole box set, full color edition), I decided to pass the time browsing at the General Fiction aisle. I remembered I was particularly browsing Michael Crichton's Prey when this woman wearing a short, mini-skirt that seems to shout, "Look at me, I've got a great bah-deh!" also started browsing a few feet away from me. Suddenly, this dude passed by, stopped short a couple of inches behind the woman and actually bent down and peered under her skirt for like three seconds! I was, of course, shocked beyond belief. The dude continued walking as if nothing happened and started browsing at a nearby aisle. The woman, quite surprisingly, was oblivious to what just happened to her.

After the initial shock of seeing such a spectacle, my mind started to compose a huge, stinging rebuke- speech for that pervert. I made up my mind. I'm going to walk straight to that guy and say, "Young man, (or slightly-older-than-me man), I know life can be soooo lonely sometimes, but by jove! What are you, six? Have you no finesse, no flair? Couldn't you at least be subtle about it or slide a mirror or something? But nooooo, you actually bent down and peered, and what's worse you had that sickening grin on your depraved face as if you had just discovered the secrets of the universe! And you did it in a (gasp!) bookstore - a great, sacred place that symbolizes civilization, literacy...culture. Fie, for shame! Woe to you---you of corrupted nature! You great defiler of morality, you disgusting fiend! Begone, and depart from this place (dramatic pause) forever!"

Hah, so there it was, the perfect reprimand. I took a deep breath and started to walk up to the dude. He was still wearing that disgusting grin. There it was - my moment! The great, heralded moment where I defend the rights of women to "free dress." I stopped in front of the dude, gave him the iciest glare I could muster, said, "Manyak!" and walked off.

Sheesh, so much for the moment....

We Live, We Laugh, We Go Home

2005-09-29T21:13:00.000+08:00

Today, my officemates and I left the office early (well, relatively at least) to hang out at the mall. Yup, we sacrificed those sacred hours when one can eagerly rush home and throw oneself on the bed and greedily sleep as much of the hours away as one could. Because we were tired of just living a routine, because we want to laugh loud and long for a change, because we want to see people instead of computer monitors for a change, because we want to be tired of something else than work.....

......it feels good to be human, for a change.

Market Research Peanuts-style

2005-09-27T19:33:00.000+08:00

Linus (to Charlie Brown, after reading the nursery rhyme): The way I see it , “the cow jumped over the moon” indicates a rise in farm prices….the part about the dish running away with the spoon must refer to the consumer…Do you agree with me, Charlie Brown?

Charlie Brown: I can’t say… I don’t pretend to be a student of prophetic literature!

(Short, R. (1990). The Gospel According to Peanuts. Quezon City: New Day Publishers).

For the curious, here is the complete nursery rhyme:
Hey diddle diddle,
The cat and the fiddle,
The cow jumped over the moon.
The little dog laughed
To see such sport,
And the dish ran away with the spoon.

(http://www.mamalisa.com/house/diddle.html, retrieved September 27, 2005).

Support for the Grieving

2005-09-19T19:08:00.000+08:00

Since I'm newly hired (i.e. hindi pa masyadong inaalipin), I get to go home relatively earlier than my teammates and my officemates in general. At around 6:00, I already start to pack up my things, write some last-minute correspondences, and arrange my desk in an attempt to prolong my stay in the office. The reason why I'm reluctant to go home just yet?

Because it feels weird, that's why!

I mean, while I'm slowly packing up, my officemates are all typing wildly on their keyboards, answering phones, talking to support groups and supervisors, and being generally, like,... busy. Everytime I start to shut down my computer, Jovy and Tets (my team mate) automatically ask, "Uwi ka na?" And I automatically answer, "OT kayo?" And then Jovy utters this very downtrodden "Oh nooooo..." and then I cringe in sympathy and reply, "I knooowww..."

It's like a plague, a disgrace to the world of market research. The sight of people leaving at 6:00-6:30 is like a thorn on one's side. The early bird usually gets the envious stares, the "don't go yet!" pleas or, worse, the "I hate youuuuu..." parting shots. But what can I do? What can I dooooo?

So I keep packing, no matter how it hurts, and start to walk away. My cubicle-mates all cry a chorus of mournful good-byes and then get right back to the absorbing world of their computer monitors.

As one of my officemates said, "May araw ka rin."

Hanging Around

2005-09-15T21:13:00.000+08:00

I have to admit and it has to be said, I’m a blog reader addict. Yep, every time I go online, I make all the trips to my friends’ blogs and try to update myself on what’s going on in their lives. It’s a compulsion that needs to be satisfied. But, recently, I felt the mingling air of fear, fatigue, discontent, and confusion from my friends’ blogs. And it somehow also crept into mine. And I realized, yes I really did, that fear is, indeed, a universal thing. We are all afraid of what we don’t know, and we are all afraid that maybe we didn’t make the right decisions, that maybe it took us this far to realize that we took the wrong turn somewhere in our lives. We are afraid that maybe we will never have the chance to pursue our dreams, and what our hearts really want. And we are afraid of the future.

And I also realized that that’s okay. That it’s supposed to feel that way; that it’s supposed to feel rotten sometimes, that there will always be frustrations and disappointments and hurts and embarrassments and injustices and joys and excitement and stress and exhaustion and confusion and uncertainty and discontent. That is the human experience. And it doesn’t matter if we want to escape from them sometimes. The thing is, we can’t. So we do the next best thing – we change our attitude towards it. We may not have the power to change the circumstances, but we have the power to change our perspective. And I really mean that, by the way. Because, really, what the elders and the been-there-done-thats didn’t tell us is that no one really leaves the classroom. In reality, we will always find ourselves sitting in another classroom, going through another lesson, feeling the same emotions over and over again. And it’s exhausting sometimes and I personally feel like I’ve been pushed against the wall at some point. But there’s no use moping about it. I feel that now, more than ever, I need to take the plunge. I’m just gonna go and dive in. And if I drown, well, as always, I’ll charge that to experience and hope that next time, I would be a much wiser person, a more responsible person, a person who can withhold instant gratification for the promise of a much better, grander alternative.

The author of Ecclesiastes said that life is essentially meaningless, a chase after the wind. I really think that what matter most is who we had allowed ourselves to be and what we leave behind. There are a million millionaires out there, but only a handful of those who left a permanent footprint in the sand of humanity, of whose loss truly left a gaping, throbbing wound in people’s hearts. And I think, in our heart of hearts, even secretly, more than money, more than success, more than seeing our dreams fulfilled, more than the world handed to us on a silver platter, we want to leave a footprint, even in just some obscure place in someone’s heart, or even on a desolate corner of someone’s memory. I suppose that, really, our greatest fear is to come at the end of the road and discover that we had pursued the things that didn’t matter and allowed our lives to be meaningless.

Lovely Day!

2005-09-14T12:43:00.000+08:00

Today, I was waiting for the Megamall-Tektite FX to arrive. It was raining a bit so I opened my umbrella and started singing, "Singing in the Rain" (only inside my head, of course). Suddenly, this Crossing-United jeep zoomed along the road and unceremoniously sprayed dark, flood water on all the people waiting inside the shed... including moi.

All the victims simultaneously erupted in a chorus of swears and curses available to mankind in every language existing in the planet. If the jeepney driver didn't receive all the seven plagues of Egypt right there and then, it would be a miracle indeed.

Me, I was too shocked for words...plus I was wearing light brown pants, so...

I think it's gonna be a lovely day.

HUWAAATTT??

2005-09-09T20:32:00.000+08:00

Noong nakaraang araw, pumunta kami ni Jovy at ng isa pa naming officemate sa East Tower dahil pagod na kaming katititig sa tables and graphs. So pumasok kami sa elevator, when suddenly may kumausap sa aming mama na feeling funny pero, sa totoo lang, parang psycho. Sabi niya kay Jovy, “Kasama mo nanay mo?”
“Po?” Tugon ni Jovy.
“Yan o nanay mo” Sabay turo sa akin.
“Po?” Ako na yung nagtanong (na medyo nanlaki ang mata).
“Pareho kasi kayo ng kulay ng blouse. At tsaka mukha kang nanay e.” Sabay turo ulit sa akin (in case I miss the point – excuse the pun).

Jovy (tumatawa na parang na-shock): Grabe kayo manong!
Ako: Napatulala.

...............................

............Manong, magdasal ka na hindi tayo ulit magkita sa Philippine Stock Exchange Center. Manalangin ka ng mabuti.

C'est Incroyable!

2005-09-03T19:07:00.000+08:00

Man oh man! Okay, I rarely post an entry about tennis because a lot of my friends and even my own family (but they're slowly and surely converting) think that it's silly to watch people running and chasing after balls. But the game between Roger Federer and "The Magician" Fabrice Santoro earlier today was just so awesome that I cannot help but write something about it. It was the first time I've seen Federer make a super-effort to get past an opponent for a long, long time now. It was so entertaining! Really! And I've never seen Federer come up with sublimely fascinating shots as he did today. And to think that Santoro is ranked no. 76.

And the crowd was just going wild! You'd think you're watching major league baseball or something from the way the spectators were screaming and doing the wave. Even Federer and Santoro had to smile at all the enthusiasm. The crowd was really supportive of Santoro because they feel his pain, the agony of scurrying after the ball just to steal some points from the world no. 1. People were screaming, "Allez, Fabrice!" (Go, Fabrice!) And the way Santoro fought back after losing two games to Federer in the first set... c'était super. Vraiment. J’étais vraiment amusée. J’espère que je peux voir un autre jeu comme ça. Mais c’est pas possible parce-que j’ai besoin de travailler. C’est dommage mais c’est comme ça.

Man, I almost forgot that I just brought home work.

In the Still of the Night

2005-09-03T06:09:00.000+08:00

I can't ever believe it... Not even a week of employment and I'm already bringing my work home. Man! Real world's brutal....brutal........

................brutal.

Lord, Lord, do I wanna be like this? Tell me, tell me.....

Hitchcock Revisited

2005-08-26T12:13:00.000+08:00

I first watched Psycho in my Film 100 class in its glorious DVD format with the subtitles and all that jazz. And I got genuinely scared. Not startled, mind you, but scared. When that dude appeared wearing his dead mommy’s clothes and wig and rushed at the heroine with the knife, I screamed along with the girl (although I stifled it because it’s embarrassing when a senior screams in a room full of freshmen). And that shower scene, that was really a classic (and for some twisted reason, the sexiest murder I’ve ever seen onscreen). And who could ever forget that eerie music?

So it was really bewildering when one day, I turned on the TV, switched to Star Movies, and “Psycho” in red, block letters flashed across the screen. I thought, “Hey!” and to my disbelief, there was Anne Heche as Marion, Viggo Mortensen (yes, as in the Aragorn in LOTR) as Sam the boyfriend, Vince Vaughn as the Psycho Mr. Bates, and Julianne Moore as Lila, Marion’s sister. I’s like, “Hold on! Maybe it’s just one of those ‘inspired by ____’ movies.” But no… as in it was 1960 Psycho, this time in color and with different actors.

O-kaaayyy. Now, I’ve never seen a classic film remade exactly the way it was, with the scenes, and the characters and the setting and the dialogue, and even the music! The closest Hitchcock remake I’ve ever seen was A Call for Murder, which was a remake of some sort of Dial M for Murder. Now the plot was more or less the same, but the characters were different, and so were the circumstances and there was even a twist to it (hey, come to think of it, Viggo Mortensen was also in it). But this remake of Psycho was an exact replica. Exact.

Now if it was a classic film that needed a whole new interpretation via computer-generated image (CGI), I’d understand ‘coz that’s what happened to The Mummy, which was a remake of the 1912 original. And, come on!, I’ve seen an excerpt of the 1912 version, which was some tall, lanky dude swaddled in mummy cloth raising his two arms a-la zombie and chasing people around a very Victorian living room. And it didn’t help that it was a silent film so you see the woman being chased (wearing heavy eyeliner) screaming, after which a title card flashes onscreen with “Aaaahhhh!” written on it. I mean, we know how a scream sounds, thank you. So I don’t blame Stephen Sommers for wanting to remake that film and actually have Egypt (with actual sands) as the primary setting and not some coffin propped against a hoity-toity English wall. Note: The 1932 version of the film was loads better and had Egypt as its setting, but still lacking in imagery.

This attempt to improve image interpretation, especially if it’s necessary to the plot (who had ever heard of a mummy running amok in a living room?), is the principle behind the remake of so many classic films like Dracula, Frankenstein, the upcoming King Kong, Planet of the Apes (but, like, what was up with the Lincoln statue of an ape?) and even Charlie and the Chocolate Factory (although, really, Johnny Depp is a fabulous actor but he’s a long, looonnng shot from Fred Astaire. I’d have died if he sang “Pure Imagination” wearing that 12-year old hair). And it’s rare that some director attempts to re-do a classic in its entirety. Most of the time, there are variations to some remakes that make them more of “inspired by” movies than remakes. Think Edward Scissorhands as a variation of Frankenstein, Godzilla of King Kong (the idea of animal mutation), and even the 1931 Dracula as a variation of the gloriously ghastly 1922 Nosferatu.

But what is there to improve on classic movies that are near-perfect in their original forms? It’s what made them a classic in the first place. You don’t see people remaking Citizen Kane, The Falcon Maltese, Gone with the Wind, and Casablanca (although I read a nasty rumor that some stupid, posh-posh studio is planning to remake this film with Heath Ledger in the lead role. Right, Heath Ledger saying, “here’s lookin’ at you, kid” in that Australian accent. What’s next, Naomi Watts singing “As Time Goes By”?)

The awkwardness of such attempts is proven in this remake of Psycho. Come on, it’s one of Hitchcock’s finest film, if not ever! What is the point behind this exact replication? Is it some form of tribute? Do people think that contemporary Hollywood actors can make this generation appreciate the film more? Naah-uh! That is just so wrong in so many levels. One cannot recapture the majesty of a past creation. If they had made a spoof of it, then I would have appreciated it. At least it was different. But this one was like some hollow shadow of the real thing… in color. This time, I wasn’t scared… at all.

15 Things I will miss about Unemployment

2005-08-23T17:39:00.001+08:00

1. Watching tv without feeling guilty
2. Staying up late at night dreaming
3. Singing La Traviata 4 octaves lower at the shower
4. Playing squash at the backyard
5. Dancing to Mais Que Nada while washing the dishes
6. Staring and squinting at my graduation certificate in distrust
7. Not eating breakfast
8. Hearing my dad say, "here comes the boarder!" whenever I show up for brunch
9. Not feeling stressed and fatigued
10.Waking up with the sunlight full blast on my face
11. Watching the live telecast of the 2005 US Tennis Open
12. Going to the cinemas alone whenever I feel like it
13. Running out of things to d0
14. Being startled everytime the phone rings
15. Wasting my time doing absolutely nothing

Unnecessary Forebodings.

2005-08-07T14:23:00.000+08:00

Sa sobrang kawalan ng magawa at dahil sawa na akong manood ng mga replay ng tennis tournaments (buti na lang may US Open ngayong August), pinag-tripan kong basahin yung Powershift ni Alvin Toffler. Ito lang ha, ayon sa Internet, pinanganak siya noong 1928. Yung book niyang yun pi-nublish noong 1990. Ang tindi ha, ang taray! Techie-savvy si lolo maniwala kayo at sobrang nakakaaliw yung libro niya. E kaya naman pala, futurist at socio-political thinker si Mr. Toffler, kaya kung anu-ano yung nakikita niya sa 21st century economy. At in fairness ha, masaya palang maging futurist, lalo na kung nagkakatotoo yung mga sinasabi mo, because believe it or not yung mga sinabi ni Lolo Toffler noong 1990 ay super-duper true na sa lipunan natin ngayon. As in sobrang swak na swak, nakakatakot na. (Ok pala na career ang futurist! Hmmm, I predict that my future will be bright…)

Ayon sa Powershift, may tatlong component daw na bumubuo sa ekonomiya natin ngayon – violence, money and knowledge (noong una, sabi ko, “heller, like, what else is new?” but wait there’s more, tugon ni Mr. Toffler). Sa tatlong components na iyon, the best and infinite in supply, as in super-high quality and uber-precious ay siyempre yung knowledge, dahil kayang-kaya nitong paikutin (pa-chachahin at pa-tango-hin) sa kanyang palad sina violence and money. Kung sino daw ang may kontrol sa knowledge, siya ang may kontrol sa teknolohiya na siyang may kontrol sa mga arms and weaponry, at siyempre sa money. Actually, yung mga laws daw ng isang bansa ay professionalized and civilized violence (kung sabagay…)

Ok, point taken, pero sabi pa ni Mr. Toffler, hindi na daw nakasalalay sa raw materials, capital at manual labor ang ekonomiya natin ngayon, kundi sa simbolismo (say what?). E pano naman kasi daw, sobrang high tech na ang lipunan natin ngayon na maski pera ay hindi na nakasalalay sa papel kundi sa electronic devices and impulses na nasa mga ATM cards, credit cards, prepaid cards, etc. etc. etc. Simbolismo – ang pera ay isa na lang electronic impulse. Pati ang meaning daw ng unemployment ay iba na (unemployment? Sounds familiar…). Noon daw kasi, noong nasa rurok pa ng tagumpay at dominance ang mga manufacturing businesses, warehouses at factories, laborers daw ang kelangan – as in muscle laborers na kahit walang experience ay madali namang turuan (like paano buhatin itong kahon na ito, saan ilalagay, you know, those kinds of things).

Ngayon, daw hindi na basta-bastang replaceable ang mga workers. Highly especialized na sila na kelangang i-train, as in i-train, para maging efficient. At hindi mo sila pwedeng i-multi-task dahil especialized nga yung knowledge nila. Sila ang mga mind workers, ang bagong players in the super-symbolic economy. At eto pa, sabi ni Mr. Toffler, kung exploited daw yung mga workers noon, mas exploited daw ang mga workers ngayon. Kasi noon, muscle work lang, underpaid pa. Ngayon, hindi lang muscle work kundi mind work ang hinihingi ng mga kumpanya, pati na rin commitment, emosyon, dedication, at iba’t iba pang –tion. At underpaid pa rin, dahil hindi naman binabayaran yung stress mo at anxiety attacks mo at kawalan mo ng time para sa sarili mo at yung mga time na inuwi mo yung trabaho mo. O di ba?! Grabe, kaasar… na-depress ako. Kasi may point siya; shux! Naabutan ako ng mind worker exploitation era. Tsk tsk tsk.

Pero anyway, sa sobrang halaga daw ng information at knowledge, halos mag-patayan ang mga multinational companies para maka-develop ng bagong networking systems, consumer feedback and support systems, self-aware network systems, at iba pang techonological advances. Dito na nakiki-party si violence and money. Merong industrial espionage, merong bribery, merong hostile take-overs at anti-trust legislation. Grabe! Who cares kung marami kang pera, kung wala ka namang knowledge about technology and market strategies, tsugi ka rin in the end. At ito pa, darating daw ang araw… na baka… hindi na kelangan ang mga intermediaries (kasama dun ang mga researchers) dahil dinidivelop na ang mga consumer support devices na ilalagay sa mga stores para malaman kung sinu-sino ang bumibili ng ganitong product, kelan nila binibili, anong brand, anong klaseng packaging, etc etc etc. In fact yung Universal Bar Code, yung mga nakalagay sa lahat ng produkto na ini-i-scan for pricing, isa na daw iyong paraan para masubaybayan ang consumer consumption ng mga produkto. So in a sense, pati consumer exploited daw, dahil dalawang beses nating binabayaran ang lahat ng binibili natin – first with actual money, and then with information, which is also worth money lalo na kung ibibenta mo sa mga manufacturing companies na uhaw na uhaw sa consumer feedback. Afraid!

Pero yung mga krises at isyu na ito ay applicable lang naman daw sa mga highly industrial nations, otherwise known as first-world countries. O di ba, there’s still one good thing about living in a third-world country. Dito sa atin, parang hindi pa raw natin masyadong feel ito dahil we’re just beginning to discover the super-symbolic economy. And besides daw, kahit sa mga first-world countries, yung mga citizens nila hindi rin masyadong feel ang unti-unting robotization and “symbolization” ng ekonomiya dahil they all think it’s normal and it’s how it was done in the first place. And they think the more technologically advanced, the better. Hindi nila alam, parang pang-consumer espionage na yung ibang techie gadgets. Hindi nila alam, in-expose lang sila gradually sa mga tehcnological changes na ito para hindi sila ma-shock. Whatever that means.

Maniwala kayo o hindi ¼ pa lang ng book ang nababasa ko at lumalangoy na ang isip ko sa sobrang impormasyon. Hindi ko kinakaya ang mga ideya ni Lolo. Baka sa bandang huli sabihin niya na lahat tayo ay na-mind controlled na rin, o baka there will come a time when lahat ng nations may sarili ng nuclear plants kahit poorest of the poor, o a time when having little bug cameras inserted in our walls and ceilings to obtain information about our product consumption will be considered normal. Oh my, oh my!...

..................

….What if, manood na lang ako ulit ng tennis?

Nangdamay si Raissa...

2005-08-02T19:09:00.000+08:00

three names you go by:
1. victorette
2. joy
3. victorette joy

three screen names you have had:
1. labellejoie
2. badger8hen
3. victorettejoy

three physical things you like about yourself:
1. my height (all the better to do the lembo rock with)
2. my eyes
3. my fingers (all ten of them, thank you)

three physical things you don't like about yourself:
1. my skin
2. my feet (I always trip kahit wala namang dahilan)
3. my brain (not very well-rounded (hindi to literal ha!))

three parts of your heritage:
1. Cebuano-speaking mother
2. Waray-speaking father
3. the astounding, masterpiece image of God

three things that scare you:
1. drowning
2. sharks
3. flying cockroach

three of your everyday essentials:
1. make-up kit
2. cold milo and jazz music
3. Bible

three of your favorite musical artists:
1. Diana Krall
2. Steven Curtis Chapman
3. Jamie Cullum (pa-share Pamy ha!)

three of your favorite songs at the moment...
1. Ain't Misbehavin'
2. The Nearness of You
3. La Vie en Rose

three things you want in a relationship:
1. love
2. dependence on God
3. honesty

three lies and truths in no particular order:
lies:
1. I'm smart
2. I'm hard-working
3. I'm an alien

truth:
1. I am a trying-hard musical artist
2. I love books
3. I believe and trust in God

three physical things about the opposite sex that appeals to you:
1. mysterious eyes (vampiric, hahaha!)
2. height (he must be taller than me noh!)
3. uhm... his wallet? physical thing yun di ba? haha!

three of your favorite hobbies:
1. reading books
2. listening to jazz music
3. talking to myself

three things you want to do really badly now:
1. take a stroll at Paris
2. watch a Broadway production
3. find a secret door to Middle-Earth

three careers you're considering/you've considered:
1. model (hahaha!)
2. forensic scientist
3. love doctor (hahaha!)

three places you want to go on vacation:
1. Paris, of course!
2. Phuket, Thailand (without the Tsunami, please!)
3. Vienna, Austria

three kid's names you like:
1. mikneiah
2. veronica
3. natasha

three things you want to do before you die:
1. travel around the world in 80 days
2. get a job
3. compose a jazz song

three ways that you are stereotypically a girl:
1. I have a kikay kit
2. I am obsessed with my hair
3. I splash on a whole bottle of cologne before I leave the house (haha!)

three ways that you are stereotypically a boy:
1. I can be really quiet
2. I can be insensitive (haha!)
3. I like sports

three celeb crushes:
1. christian bale
2. clive owen
3. stuart townsend

I tag: lahat ng ti-nag ni raissa; kristina; nellie; lahat ng blockmates at orgmates ko na may blog at nakabasa nito! there!

When I'm 64

2005-08-02T12:03:00.000+08:00

Books I absolutely must have in their hardbound collector's first edition when I become a billionaire who is able to build her own ancient-look library complete with sliding bookshelf-doors, wooden, mahogany stairs with wheels for reaching the top shelves, nice Louis XIV sofa in front of an ice-place (we're in the tropics, why would I need a fireplace?), and a butler who looks like Christian Bale and Clive Owen:

1. JRR Tolkien's LOTR trilogy and The Hobbit
2. CS Lewis' The Chronicles of Narnia
3. Antoine St. Exupery's Le Petit Prince (in its original French version (with English translation though- haha!))
4. Mark Twain's The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn and The Adventures of Tom Sawyer
5. Arthur Conan Doyle's The Complete Casebook of Sherlock Holmes
6. Henry James' The Turn of the Screw and Washington Square
7. All of Michael Crichton's fiction books
8. The Wizard of Oz
9. Les Miserables
10. Jane Austen's Mansfield Park
11. The Secret Garden
12. Alice in Wonderland

Sheesh... I need a job NOW!

Sobrang Pagkakaroon ng Ulirat

2005-07-25T11:17:00.000+08:00

Ang hirap lumigaya. Sa totoo lang. Napakarami kasi nating gusto sa buhay. Kalimitan, sila’y mga bagay na nagbibigay lang ng panandaliang aliw at pagkatapos ay mapapalitan ng mas masidhing paghahanap. Bakit kasi napakahirap pakuntentuhin ng puso? Lagi na lang may nais abutin, makamtan, mangyari. Pero minsan kung napagbibigyan ang mga kagustuhan nito, hindi pa rin sapat.
Ano ba kasi talaga ang gusto natin? Di ba lahat tayo ay may sari-sariling depinisyon ng kaligayahan? Meron pa nga tayong operationalization nito di ba? Yung iba nasusukat ang kaligayahan nila sa laki ng kanilang bank account o sa dami ng pagkakataon na sila ay “umibig.” Meron din naman na mababaw lang talaga ang kaligayahan (at sa palagay ko, sila ang pinakamasayang tao sa balat ng lupa).
Inisip ko yung sarili kong depinisyon ng kaligayahan – ang malaman ang dahilan kung bakit ako nilikha ng Diyos at maisakatuparan ang dahilang ito. Inisip ko, siyempre hindi naman siguro magpapakita ang Diyos sa akin sa pamamagitan ng nagliliyab na halaman o maghahati ng dagat para sabihin kung ano ang misyon ko sa buhay, kaya paano ko naman malalaman di ba? Sabi ng pastor namin, isa daw itong mahabang proseso na nagsimula noong ako’y isilang na walang kamuwang-muwang.
Kaya ngayon, heto ako naghahabol ng anino, ng senyas, ng direksyon. Dahil tulad ni Myra, hindi ko rin alam ang gusto ko. Gusto kong tumugtog sa piano, gusto kong lakbayin ang buong mundo, gusto kong matutunan ang lahat ng bagay. E ano naman ngayon, di ba? Ano naman ang kinalaman ng gusto ko sa katotohanang kinagagalawan ko? Kung interbyuhin ulit ako para sa trabaho at tanungin kung saan ko nakikita ang sarili ko pagkatapos ng limang taon, pwede ko bang sabihin na, “sa isang kalye sa Paris, sa may tabi ng Ilog ng Seine, tumitingin sa isang pintor habang ginuguhit niya ang hangin”? Pwede ko rin bang sabihin na, “sa totoo lang po, hindi ko po alam. Masama po ba iyon? Ibig sabihin po ba non, wala na akong ambisyon at direksyon sa buhay? Malaking krimen po ba kung ayaw kong pangunahan ang Diyos?”
Siyempre, hindi ko pwedeng sabihin iyon noh. Sasabihin nila na ako ay isang baliw. Baliw na mangingibig ng mga bulang panaginip…

Hay naku! Makabili na nga lang ng banana-que!

Clearance

2005-07-01T17:55:00.000+08:00

Monday

Rude Lady who must be frustrated with her work and therefore has no work ethics: Hello?
Me: Ah, hello. Good morning po. Puede po sa registrar?
Rude Lady: E bakit hindi ka tumawag sa operator?
Me: (a little irritated) Registrar na po ba ito?
Rude Lady: Oo.
Me: Fa-follow-up ko lang po sana yung clearance ko…
Rude Lady: *Grumbles unintelligibly*
Me: Ano po?
Rude Lady (raises voice in a very rude and crude manner) Tawag ka sa WEDNESDAY!
Me (trying to hold on to what’s left of my patience): Okay po, salamat.

*Must…not…call back…and…give the…rude lady….a piece of my mind…*

Wednesday

Rude Lady: Tawag ka sa FRIDAY!
Me: … (takes a deep breath) Okay. (utters a prayer of endurance)

Friday

Rude Lady (abruptly): Hello?
Me: Hello po, tungkol po sa fi-nile ko pong clearance---
Rude Lady (almost screams): HA??
Me (one second away from turning into a beast and unleashing my fury): Tungkol po sa fi-nile ko pong clearance….
Rude Lady (interrupts) --- wala akong alam diyan sa filing, ang nandito lang sa amin yung tapos nang i-process!
Me: (grips the phone tight in an effort to remain calm and civilized): Yun nga po, tatanong ko po sana kung na-process na po.
Rude Lady: Kelan ka nag-file?!
Me: April 13 po.
Rude Lady: Tawag ka sa TUESDAY!!
Me: *slams down the phone…real hard*

Ahhhhh, there is justice in the world.

*Rolls up sleeves and waits for Tuesday to come*

The Surreal Canvass of the Thin Line between Fantasy and Reality

2005-06-28T17:04:00.000+08:00

Things I would really, really like to do (in no particular order):

1. Stroll the streets of Paris and eat escargots in a quaint café
2. Go to London and watch a Wimbledon finals game
3. Play “An Affair to Remember” on a white grand piano
4. Drive a black Porsche
5. Visit Israel and the other Bible lands
6. Participate in an archaeological study (preferably in Egypt)
7. Ride a space shuttle to the moon and actually step on the moon
8. Watch a live authentic jazz concert and participate in a Mardi Gras festival
9. Visit the place in New Zealand where they shot the Lord of the Rings Trilogy
10. Be a camerawoman for a Hollywood film shoot
11. Own an authentic light saber and an exact replica of Aragorn’s sword, Anduril
12. Visit Middle-Earth, Narnia, Emerald City, Never Neverland, and Wonderland
13. Go white-water rafting, scuba-diving, snow boarding, skiing, sky diving, and sailing
14. Drive a Boeing commercial plane
15. Visit the safari and actually pet a wild lion
16. Learn how to play tennis and the alto saxophone
17. Be part of an orchestra and perform in the most celebrated cultural centers of the world
18. Help excavate a dinosaur fossil
19. Watch an honest-to-goodness, old-school tent circus like those small town types shown in movies
20. Get a job

The Turn of the Tide

2005-06-24T12:43:00.000+08:00

It’s true. When one passes the day with great monotony and ease, one is painfully aware of the passing of time, of the seemingly snail-like pace of the clock’s hands, of the reliable ticking of every second…and the steady heartbeat of one’s own heart.

One is also aware of the passing of clouds, of the setting of the sun, of every movement outside one’s window. And one hears every note of a song, feels every blow of the wind – how strong it was and for how long.

Gone are the days of great haste, as if the world itself chases after you. Those days of unbelievable stress and pressure, so much so that you feel as if you’re going to explode, as if you’re being stretched into a million directions. You feel the air growing thin. Those were the days.

Now there’s just stillness and calm, like sailing through a windless ocean, propelled only by time. There is time to feel, to spend one’s days in peace. But not entirely though. After some time, the stillness becomes too much…and superficial. Underneath, a storm is brewing, a self-made storm. And one yearns for a little chaos, just like the way it used to be.

Ewan ko kung bakit ba ganyan...

2005-04-27T21:08:00.000+08:00

Para akong tutubing walang madapuan, kahit lupa man lang. Nakakainip pala ang pagpapahinga. Tapos ko ng basahin ang mga bagong librong binili ko. Binasa ko na naman yung Lord of the Rings (that's it, I know Middle Earth better than Tolkien now). Ano bang gagawin ko? Inakyat ko na ng limang beses yung bakod na naghihiwalay sa bahay namin at sa ilog. Umikot-ikot ako sa masukal na landas pababa at paakyat sa bundok. Binato ko yung mga asong kalyeng lagi na lang akong tinatahulan pag dumadaan ako.

Sa totoo lang, nalulungkot ako dahil bukas lilipat na kami sa Pasig. Ganun talaga pag ang mga magulang mo ay social worker/pastor. Bukas, makalawa, kung nasaang lupalop ka na naman mapupunta. Naasar nga ako e, Manila lang? Akala ko kung saang bundok na naman sila padadala. Sabi ko nga e, mas gusto ko pa sa probinsya. Okay, fine, so killer sa social life dahil hindi ka makadalo sa mga get-together dahil sa bundok ka nakatira, pero masaya naman. Kanina nga nung nasa may ilog ako malapit sa amin, muntik muntik na ako maiyak sa kalungkutan. Buti na lang nahiya ako sa mga nanay na naglalaba (pero feeling ko napansin nung isa). Inisip ko, huling pagkakataon ko na ito na makapunta rito. Tinitigan ko isa-isa yung mga punong malapit dun. Nakalungkot mag-paalam sa lahat ng bagay. Magpaalam sa unibersidad na naging tirahan ko rin ng apat na taon, mag-paalam sa bahay sa bundok, mag-paalam sa mga taong nakasanayan mo nang batiin tuwing umaga at asarin tuwing gabi.

Bukas ng umaga, pag dumating na yung six-wheeler truck na lilipat sa mga gamit namin, magpapakatotoo na ako. Iiyak na ako.

At last... (no, my love has not come along)

2005-04-25T22:14:00.000+08:00

It seems like my last blog update was centuries ago. I feel really really old all of a sudden. I guess when you have toiled and labored for such a long time and finally it's over, you feel a sense of loss and elation at the same time. And disorientation. Like what our fabulous commress summa cum laude (congrats again Pamy!) said in her speech, it's time to shake off the fear and realize that, yes, we all have greatness within us. I keep saying that now as a mantra, but of course I do attribute all the greatness to God. I acknowledge that, really, I am nothing apart from what He has allowed me to be. And He has allowed me to be so much more than I deserve, which just shows that it is not only love that moves in mysterious ways.

Right now, I feel like I'm back to square one. I do want to work that's for sure, but I'm still uncertain about where and what career I want to pursue. I don't even know why I bother worrying about all these things, considering God has brought me this far. But there it is. I feel like I have been suddenly booted out of Never Never Land. This is as real as the real world can go, and I am right in the middle of it with a big question mark hovering above my head. One of these days, the question mark will fall and flatten me on the floor, then maybe I can get a literal "head start."

But, sometimes, I love it, this feeling of loss and uncertainty. Because I'm tired of always trying to be sure and right in all things. Maybe I need this, even if only to remind me that I am just human and there is a God up there who knows me more than I know myself.

And He never messes up.

Looking Past the Window Pane

2005-03-25T00:22:00.000+08:00

Ken Gire, in his book Windows of the Soul (now you know where I got my blog title from), quoted Benjamin Warfield saying, "A glass window stands before us. We raise our eyes and see the glass; we note its quality, and observe its defects; we speculate on its composition. Or we look straight through it on the great prospect of land and sea and sky beyond." Indeed, we have the choice to look inwards or outwards. Those who fail to do both get an incomplete view of the whole picture of life. I realized that these past few months, I have been doing some inward-looking. All I could see were the cracks, the problems, the uncertainties. I forgot to look at the view outside. So in this entry, I'm going to list down all the things that I'm grateful for during the last four years of my life, and the things that I'm excited about in the coming future. So, yeah, Mr. Future Monster, move aside.

1. I'm thankful for the opportunity of having undergone formal education.
2. I'm thankful for the resources that were available to me.
3. I'm thankful for the people whom I've met in college, and who have created waves in my life.
4. I'm thankful for all the lessons I learned, both from within and without the classroom.
5. I'm thankful for all the professors who gave me a hard time, because I learned to persevere and have faith.
6. I'm thankful for all the stressful moments in my college life, because I learned to sacrifice and prioritize.
7. I'm thankful that I'm alive, at this very moment, breathing, writing words.

I'm excited about:
1. My first job (God, please let me last for at least a year!)
2. My first job hunting experience (I'll make sure to walk on the sunny side of the street)
3. My first salary (Must...not...go...shopping)
4. The first step I will take outside UP as a degree holder (naks! as if!)
5. My first job application rejection (must...not...break down...in front...of the interviewer)
6. My first new piano (good luck to the neighbors!)
7. My first trip to Europe (I'll start with Paris, go all the way down to Rome, and then to Venice, might drop by Austria (must...not...sing.. Sound of Music))
8. My first performance as a jazz lounge singer (okaaayyy, I am afraid for my audience even as I write this)
9. My first viewing of a Broadway production (I wish it's Guys and Dolls, preferrably in New York, but I heard it's going to be in London so... to London then!)
10. My first field research or research project (as in for real!)

Now that I wrote these things down, I feel so much better. There really is so much more to life than thesis and research papers! Somehow.... I have forgotten.

(Think Poltergeist) It's Heee-yerrrrr

2005-03-08T23:15:00.001+08:00

The future no longer looms like a specter. It's right next door. One of these days, I'm going to open my door and it's going to be right on the doorstep. Waiting. Lurking. Like some cheap CGI shadow from a low-budget film noir. Shutting the door on its face will do no good, because sooner or later, it will creep ever so slowly from the crack under the door. And then what? Like some monster gone awry it will walk ever so slowly (with a slight limp), approach your sleeping form, and scream in your face.

Yes, it's scary. And, yes, it's not a dream.

Graduation is just a month away. Sometimes I can hear the ticking of the clock so painfully loud in my ears. Even when I sleep, I know, I sense, that time is trickling slowly like a silent stream. Maybe it's just me, maybe I'm more afraid of the fact that my parents are going somewhere again, this time without me. I can't imagine myself not living under the same roof as them or not being able to call them whenever I want to. I admit it, at heart, I'm a little girl.

I have been overtaken by this fear suddenly. I don't know why. Suddenly, the word "responsibility" holds more meaning for me now. Yes, this time I will have to do my own thing, pursue my own goals, pay my own bills. This is it, this is the real thing. Game over.

It is in moments such as these that I realize that I'm not as brave as I previously thought, and that not college, not your family, not even yourself, can truly, really, faithfully, sincerely prepare you for what lies ahead. There is no crash course, no warm-up. Just trials and errors. As what Switchfoot says, "this is your life, are you who you want to be?"

I think I'm going to scream back at the future.

Wala ng Pakialamanan!

2005-03-02T14:29:00.000+08:00

Kanina, pangiti-ngiti akong naglakad papunta sa maingay-ngunit-ito-naman-ay-sa-ngalan-ng-arte na Kolehiyo ng Musika (aka Abelardo Hall para sa mga napagtatanungan ng mga taga-labas) kasi kukunin ko na yung mga litrato ko sa Phi Gamma Mu ceremony. E siyempre excited ako kasi andun yung kuha ko kasama ng mga magulang ko, nung naglakad ako papunta sa mga monoblock na upuan ng mga pinararangalan, nung umakyat ako sa stage, at nung sinindihan ko yung kandila daw ng excellence na pinatay naman ng napakalakas na electric fan sa Bahay ng Alumni.

Medyo naiirita pa nga ako kasi sabi sa akin ng ale na in-charge sa mga litrato, "Miss, pag di ka nagpa-litrato, ikaw lang ang wala." At ako, sa tanda kong ito, nagpa-uto naman. Isa itong pruweba na kahit gra-gradweyt ka na sa UP at lahat-lahat, minsan wala ka pa ring kamuwang-muwang. Ewan ko ba, basta akala ko kasi nung panahon na yun lahat talaga ay required magpa-picture. Aba, malay ko ba, e sa first time ko nga maging miyembro ng mga ganyan-ganyan, honor society for social sciences whatever.

E di ayun, nabiktima ako ng mga money-mongering capitalists na yun. Pero sige, fine, okay lang, sa loob-loob ko nagdahilan pa ako. "Okay nga yan, may remembrance ka." Pero sa totoo lang, asar na asar ako kasi naisahan ako. Tapos kanina kinuha ko yung mga pictures (yung text pa sa akin nung photography company na yun e pwede na daw naming "tubusin" yung mga pictures - blackmail na blackmail ang dating), e ang napagkasunduan lang ay anim na pictures for 360. Aba, aba sabihin ba naman na 450 na daw ang bayad kasi walo yung litrato ko.

E di medyo nairita ako dun sa ale. Sabi ko, "E ang usapan po ay anim na pictures lang po ah!" E ako tinuruan ako ng mga magulang ko na maging magalang kahit pa naiirita na so medyo pangiti-ngiti pa ako nun (pero yung tipong mapait na ngiti). Yung ale ginigiit talaga na walo daw yung pictures ko, e hindi naman dun yung isyu ko e. Kita naman ng dalawa kong mga mata na walo yung pictures (marunong naman daw akong magbilang kahit taga-masscom ako no!) Ang sa akin lang e bakit ko babayaran yan e wala na yung dalawang pictures na yan sa usapan.

At, hello!, 90 pesos yung halaga ng dalawang pictures na yun? Excuse me no, e mas maganda pa yung kuha ng nanay ko sa digicam namin kesa sa mga kuha ng mga "professionals" daw na mga yun. Mantakin mo ba naman, yung family picture namin e may nasabit pang kamay ng whoever na may tinuturo somewhere. Nakakainis talaga, tapos yung kuha ko pa na umaakyat sa stage at sinisindihan yung candle of excellence na yun e nakapikit pa ako!

Alam ko marami kaming nagpa-picture (dahil I'm sure ni-rehearse nung mga ale na yun yung line nila na "Uy, pag di ka nagpapicture, ikaw lang ang wala!"), pero sana naman ayusin naman nila yung mga kuha nila. Kaya nga business transaction di ba, kasi ini-expect mo na kung ano yung binayaran mo, yun yung makukuha mo. At magbabayad ka ba kung hindi mo inaasahan na maganda yung mga pictures mo? Hello? Naririnig niyo ba ako mga "professional photographers?" Yeah, in case you guys don't know, that's how it goes.

So sabi ko sa ale, "Kukunin ko po yung anim kong pictures, bahala na po kayo kung anong gagawin niyo sa dalawang extra." Medyo na-threaten si ale, at sinabing "Sige na, 400 na lang." Kulang na lang mag-sigh siya na parang, "Hay naku, kelangan bang ako na lang lagi ang magparaya?" Hello?! Ano na bang nangyayari sa mundong ito? Again, out of respect for the values taught to me by my parents, I calmly paid 400, took the pictures, put them in my bag, and quietly walked off. Nice and slow. Nice and slow. Take a deep breath and count to ten. Inner cleansing, Joy, that's the key.

It didn't work.

What is wrong with following rules and regulations? What is wrong with keeping your end of the bargain? What is wrong with being honest and considerate towards others? What is wrong with keeping your promises? Is it just me, or did evil turn normal overnight? Is money so badly needed that you have to step on someone's shoes and resort to trickery and other tactics of such evil nature? Well, I guess so!

Excuse me while I buy a banana-que and remove the taste of contempt.

2005-02-27T20:03:00.000+08:00

Pi Gamma Mu Induction ceremony - Tintin, Kay, Irene, Ba, Moi, Sarah, and Tasha

To my very own Gullivers

2005-02-27T19:59:00.000+08:00

I am a pastor's kid. My parents are Salvation Army officers. I have studied in a total of eight schools. I have lived in different provinces in the country, and spent four years living in Bangladesh. My parents are only waiting for me to graduate this March, and then they're off to Sri Lanka for God knows how many years (initially, it was Africa, but the organization felt it was too dangerous). Yes, it's hard, and yes, I'm glad.

When I was growing up, I have considered it a pain moving every three years and so. But at the end of the day, I realized I have lived a most extraordinary life - that in reality, my life was indeed a great adventure. I have learned to speak five different languages (or to be more politically correct, dialects), I learned how to play the piano, I learned how to be independent, I learned to believe in the wisdom of God, and most of all, I learned that the world is bigger than anything we could ever imagine it to be. While I was with my parents visiting villages in a poor province in Bangladesh, I came to terms with the reality of how the world is. It is not cotton candies, sugar, spice and everything nice. I was fourteen then and my parents had to practically drag me along because I did not want to go. I did not want to see villages and talk to these people who speak a different language. I wanted to go home.

But during that visit, God made me realize a lot of things. I realized that my problems are puny compared to those experienced by others - that while I was worrying about how annoying it was to leave the Philippines and live in one of the poorest countries in the world, people are starving and living in abject, utterly degrading poverty.

It was when I realized the my parents are my personal heroes. I may never fully understand what motivate them to do social work and share the Gospel to people, but I have seen their faith. I have seen how they have sacrificed to please and serve God, and it leaves me completely awestruck. Because I know, I know, I cannot sacrifice masteral degrees, comfortable jobs, and my other two children back in the Philippines for these people whom I don't even know, and for this country that is not even my own. And yet they did. And they continually do so.

So I would like to give this little tribute to my parents, my very own Gullivers. I know you do not have the time to read my blog. You may be too busy doing relief work or training missionaries or going somewhere, crossing wooden bridges or a whole span of sky. But I want you to know that this kid is proud of you, and that this kid wishes her heart is as big as yours.

2005-02-21T00:51:00.000+08:00

The UP Lagoon (where everything happens)

Straight from a Senior's tortured thoughts

2005-02-18T15:57:00.000+08:00

Advice to all UP undergrads (particularly the freshies and sophies): in the words of my thesis partner, take summer classes, do overloads per semester, so that you'll only have thesis by your 2nd sem of your graduating year.

I'm not kidding.

Do you know how hard it is to do thesis and still have extra 15 units of whatevers? It's excruciating. Don't get me wrong, I like my elective classes, I really do. I learn from them and that's always a welcome thing, but upon my word, I cannot prioritize them over my thesis. It is not just possible. I find myself sacrificing a subject or another all for the sake of thesis, and I don't like doing that. I feel as if I've cheated myself.

For example right now, I have report for my Anthropology 151, learning check for my Psychology 101, and reaction paper for my Sociology 101 (notice the 101s, that's when you know they really are just my electives :) ). All of these are due this Monday. Not to mention my STS report and my extra reading for my review of related literature for my beloved thesis.

I tell you guys, be warned!

PS: I'm just kidding about the overloads. Don't do overloads, 18 units worth of subjects per semester is already painful as it is.

The End of the Rainbow

2005-02-14T19:41:00.000+08:00

We passed our first draft for our thesis today. It was surreal. It was emotional. It was unbelievable. It was...just one of those things.

To The Literary Heroes of my Youth

2005-02-11T21:45:00.000+08:00

This entry is dedicated to Messieurs JRR Tolkien and CS Lewis, the literary heroes of my then innocent and gullible mind. I have never really stopped believing in the power of a fantastical imagination. I don't think that even if I live to be 200, I would be able to create such complex worlds and cultures as these two men did. Personally, I wouldn't mind entering a wardrobe one winter night and entering into Narnia. Heck, I wouldn't even mind going through the Mines of Moria just to get to Lothlorien. Even if I suddenly find myself in the midst of the Great Middle-Earth Battle, I would still not mind.

I have always wanted to talk to JRR Tolkien and ask him how he did it. When he was young, did he dream of swords and brave (relatively) young men and women, and elves that glow under moonlight and sunlight? While he was walking one foggy evening, did he suddenly have a vision of armies and armies of Orcs surrounding a lone city of men? When he looked at the meadows at Cambridge, did he see men on horses galloping across with natural fury?

If I suddenly find myself in Mr. Lewis' seating room, what would I ask him? Should I ask him if there are indeed centaurs and kind giants? Of course, he would say yes. I think the first thing that I might ask him is if he was ever in Narnia himself. Of course he would say yes.

I don't know why I am suddenly overtaken by a pensive mood. It has suddenly touched my hand while I was slaving away and hammering at my faded keyboard for my thesis. It suddenly brushed my hair and whispered in my ear, "Do not forget."

And I do not forget. Even if the years sweep me to Wrinkle Land, even if my brain fails me and my heart turns into granite, I will always remember Middle Earth and Narnia. I will always remember the first time I believed in something bigger than this world, and that is the human mind.

The Piano

2005-01-27T22:51:00.000+08:00

I love the piano, not even so much as playing it, but just...it. I remember I used to hate going to our piano teacher's house when I was a kid. I never really understood why girls need to learn how to play the piano. I never heard of any woman dropping dead because she couldn't play a C#m chord. But you know what? When I was in Bangladesh, the piano became almost my best friend. I found it really difficult to settle down when I first stepped on Dhaka. I couldn't understand what a 14 year old was going to do in such a bleak, gloomy place. I blamed my parents for everything - for taking me away, for forcing me to live in a country much worse than mine.

I found solace and comfort in the piano. I never really expected it, you know. It was just one of those things when God suddenly drops a suprise on your lap. My parents met a UP Conservatory alumnus and her ministry was teaching missionaries' kids for free. I was not very enthusiastic at first. Another piano lesson down my throat. But somehow it was different this time around. I had no other comfort, no friends, no other place to run to in order to somehow cope with the feeling of extreme loneliness. It was just me, myself and the piano. When you have no other choice, you are forced to cherish what you have. And I started to cherish those piano lessons. I started to cherish the gift of music, the fact that I am given the chance to play and express myself. I cherished the person that I become when I play.

Don't get me wrong. I am no Mozart, neither am I a Norah Jones. But when you do something you really love, you transcend the person that you think you are. Suddenly, you can see the beauty of what you produce, the simplicity of watching your fingers glide up and down the keys. There is nothing else to say, nothing else to feel. The moment of passion has come and gone. All in a single moment of self-neglect. When you cease to become a Joy and be a musician. And you have no qualms of playing, no consciousness of the neighbors banging your floor with a stick in the middle of the night. It doesn't matter what people think of your music, what matters is that it is yours.

To my piano teacher, thank you very much for all the patience and support, for believing that I can play and at the same time live. I am sorry I could not carry that belief to completion. I am sorry I traded my piano for money and the promise of security and conformity. If I could only choose one more time...if I could only get that courage that I used to have, but it's too late.

It's too late.

2005-01-20T19:16:00.000+08:00

Ever tried living with three other people for three years of your collge life? It's unbelievably fun.

The Quirks of Being A Dorm Girl

2005-01-20T18:55:00.000+08:00

1. You don't have to wait for hours and hours until end in between your crazy class schedule.
2. When the oh-so-reliable weather system in the university suddenly suspends classes due to whatever, you don't have to moan at the injustice of waking up early, combatting heavy wind and rain just to get to school and then being told to go home shortly after you've arrived.
3. When you've dirtied your clothes, either due to an accident or by intentionally rolling in the Sunken Garden, it's no biggie. Just go home, do a "I'm a supermodel" thing and change your clothes.
4. You can wake up 30 minutes before classes start and still arrive in the classroom on time.
5. When you have to stay late because of a university event, you don't have to worry whether you'd be able to go home alive, alert, awake and enthusiastic.
6. If you forgot something (anything), you can go back for it easily.
7. If an ultra-boring class sent you to near-stupor, no problem. Just go home and sleep it off, and if you weren't able to wake up for your next class? oh well.
8. You can take a shower whenever you like. You can take a shower in between classes if you want.
9.You can brush your teeth after every meal. Kahit merienda pa.
10. Got a math problem that transcends the abilities of your God-given neurons? Ask the people next door.
11. Got a relationship problem that transcends your God-given understading? Get enlightenment from the people who live across your room.
12. Bored by all those sociology, anthropology, gy-gy-gy readings? Just go and bother your room mates. And if they are studying for a very difficult exam the next day, that's even better.
13. You don't have to go to a gym for expensive work-outs. Just walk to your classes from one building to another. Believe you me, you won't only lose your fat, but also your breath.
14. You will learn to appreciate your mother's cooking even more because it will become a luxury you can only afford on the week-ends.
15. You have more time to look at the stars.

2005-01-17T20:44:00.000+08:00

Mas madalas kesa hindi, masaya ang mabuhay.

Taghoy ng Gabing Lumalalim*

2005-01-17T20:20:00.000+08:00

Magpapakatotoo na ako. Malalim na kasi ang gabi. Wala ng lamang kape ang tasa kong nilalanggam na. Lumulutang na ang aking mga panaginip na parang mga multo. Lumulutang na rin ako. Punong-puno na ng impormasyon ang isip kong hindi mapakali. Ninanais kong ipikit ang aking mga mata ngunit kinatatakutan ang magiging kapilit. Pilit na inililihis ang mga mata sa orasan, ngunit hindi mapigilan ang sumulyap. Hindi ko kailangan ng mga numero upang ipaalam sa sarili na malalim na ang gabi. Nararamdaman ko ang paglalim nito sa katahimikang naririnig sa labas ng aking bintana.

Pilit akong inaagaw ng gabi.

Hindi ko kayang magkunwari. Mapipigilan ba ang isipan sa paglikha ng sarili nitong bangungot? Pano kung huminto na lang kaya ako? Patayin ang kompyuter na ito at talikuran ang lahat - ang hinaharap, pati na rin ang nakaraan? Ipinatong ko ang ulo kong lumulutang sa kumukupas ko ng keyboard.
Napabuntong-hininga ang hangin sa bagsik ng aking panghihina.

Thesis, balang-araw, tatawanan din kita.

*para sa thesis partner kong si Pamy, huwag kang mag-alala nage-emote lang. :)

The Race Against the Rain

2005-01-07T01:06:00.000+08:00

You stand on an isolated spot on a near empty avenue on a starless night. You are waiting for the jeep to pass by. You crane your neck, look down the dark avenue, check your watch, pull your jacket tighter around you, crane your neck some more and then look away. You start tapping your left foot to the tune of your favorite jazz song. Still no jeep. You're now humming your favorite jazz song and ocassionally snapping your fingers to the beat. It's crazy you know but no one's there to see. Just you and the night and the music.

Ten minutes had passed, then twenty. Time seems to gallop in double time, but you're still there. In that isolated spot on a near empty avenue. You crane your neck once again, no jeep to be seen. Your forehead starts to wrinkle. Could it be that you have entered the twilight zone and in this episode you're supposed to walk all the way home, tap dancing your way down the road? In the distance, you hear the threatening growl of thunder. You silently pray to God, "please don't let it rain while I'm here on this isolated spot on a near empty avenue." Several dried leaves start to scrape themselves along the pavement, passing you by, scratching the tip of your right sneaker as they ride low on a silent, cold breeze.

You involuntarily shiver.

And then you feel the first drop of the rain. Piercingly cold, striking your right hand as you clutch the edge of your jacket. It stings. You quickly look up. You have always wondered about that. Why do people look up when it starts to rain? Do they really want to make sure that it is raining or do they want to actually see the rain? Not just feel it, not just see it as dark spots on the ground, but to actually see it fall in all its fast motion glory?

You take one last longing look down the near empty avenue. Your vision starts to get blurry as the rain starts to really pour. Not just merely fall but pour in wanton abandon. You have had your Kodak moment, the whimsical, cinematographic type of moment wherein everything seems just so romantic and perfect. It's time for the real thing.

You start to walk briskly down the avenue. The rain keeps up with your stride. You break into a jog, the rain breaks the clouds some more. Raindrops hit you right on the head, and you feel them make their way down your forehead, on your mouth, on your jacket. You start running, faster and faster, trying to outrun the rain, time, the surreality of the moment. Your jacket flaps open against the cold wind, and you feel the cold grab you with its hand and cling to you like a child on a piggyback ride. You keep running and the rain keeps running with you, and soon you are lost in a jungle of raindrops.

But you don't mind, you don't mind at all.

Lord, Bakit Po ang Bait-Bait Niyo?

2005-01-06T23:24:00.000+08:00

This year entered and smashed its fist right into my face...I mean that in a good way. I haven't expected anything really. I just allowed myself to get swept in, along with the tsunami, into this very uncertain year. Who would have thought we'd get this far? It wasn't such a long time ago when you see in the movies "in the year 2020" or variations of that. Who would have thought that we're actually getting there? I did not, and yet here we are and, like what Switchfoot says, "we are the symphony of modern humanity."

Well, God is indeed very gracious and faithful. I walked in completely blind, I just trusted Him to carry me through this whole new year. Already, he has blessed me this year, in more ways than one. He has open up a lot of opportunities for me and has given me so much hope. You have no idea how hopeless I have felt in the last couple of days. What with the tsunami and multiple disasters, it almost seemed like a sin to even think of being happy.

But God knows best. I believe that as sure as I'm typing here. I do not pretend to know everything about God and His plans. I do not pretend to know everything about theology and church doctrines. All I know is that He is love and, for me, that will always be enough.

2005-01-05T20:23:00.000+08:00

me and my room mates

2005-01-05T20:19:00.000+08:00

my ate and I, New Year's Eve (2004)

Para sa mga Rummeyt*

2005-01-03T17:10:00.000+08:00

Para saan ang indayog ng panahon kundi
para sa ating mga mahilig managinip.
Sapagkat hindi na natin alintana
ang pag-ikot ng mundo.
Ang importante ay kung sino ka
at kung sino ako.

Sa isang pangkaraniwang kwarto
natipon ang ating mga panaginip.
Panaginip na tumagos sa bubong
at umabot sa kalawakan.
Panaginip na natapakan sa bawat
hakbang ng ating mga luha.
At mga panaginip na sumunod sa ating halakhak,
nakisayaw, naki-indak sa tukso ng kaligayahan.

Para saan ang musika kundi para
sa ating mga mahilig tumawa.
Musikang nakitulog sa ilalim
ng ating mga kumot.
Musikang sumambulat kasabay ng ating paglimot.
Musikang kumalong sa mga ulong pagod.
At musikang nakipagyugyugan sa
panahon ng pagkayamot.

Para saan ang pagdating ng nalalapit na nakaraan
kundi para sa ating mga mahilig tumingin
sa kinabukasan.
Mga napipintong pamamaalam,
mga lihim na agam-agam.
Makikita ko pa rin ba ang paglipad ng inyong
mga pangarap?
Makikisayaw pa rin ba sa musika ng inyong
mga pangitain?
Mapipigilan ba ang inyong huling pagsasara ng pinto?

Sana mga rummeyt...
...kwarto na lang natin ang buong mundo.

*para kay Min, Joanne at Janis

Para Kay Ate*

2004-12-17T18:17:00.000+08:00

(ng gabing tumangis ng alaala ang mga nakalimot na)

Umusad ang panahon ng di namamalayan,
napag-iwanan ang alaala ng ating kabataan.
Minsan magkasama tayong tumawa,
buhat mo ako at hawak sa kamay.

(parang kurtina ang terno nating mga bestida
salamat sa fashion sense ni nanay).

Minsan magkasama tayong umiyak,
napagalitan dahil sa kakulitan.
Pero sa loob-loob ko, "okay lang."
Kasama naman kitang magda-drama.

Ate, sa totoo lang, di ba naging masaya naman?

Sa paglipas ng panahon, di na kita nasabayan.
Naiwanan mo na rin ako.
Hindi mapipigilan ang mga araw, buwan, at taong
naghiwalay sa iyong pagiging dalaga
at sa aking pagiging bata.

Ate, umasa ako na balang araw
magiging tulad mo rin ako.

Ngayon sa iyong kaarawan,
ako'y mapag-iiwanan mo na naman.
Pabilis ng pabilis ang takbo ng orasan.
Palabo ng palabo ang mga alaala ng isipan.
Balang araw, malilimutan mo rin,
ang mga panibagong alaalang ginawa natin.

Ngunit, ate, sa totoo lang...

...di ba naging masaya naman?

*para kay Ate Beryl, sa kanyang ika-26 na kaarawan.

2004-12-14T20:04:00.000+08:00

Hindi ko na kayaaaaa...hindi na!

The Jaws of Thesis Are Closing In...Real Fast!

2004-12-14T18:07:00.000+08:00

I am tired. So very tired. Of thinking what my life would be like in the next three and a half months. I tell you what it won't be --- easy. There would be books to read, blogs to read, papers to read, and everything else in between. It's a freaking roller coaster ride! I wish I could say I am well prepared, buckled in my seat and paper bag in my hand. But noooo, I am not! I am not! I am near death just thinking about it.

Got...to...listen...to...jazz. (ps: thanks, pamy!)

A Simple Act of Kindness

2004-12-12T23:45:00.000+08:00

Last Thursday, I caught a window of the soul in the my anthropology class. My friend Nina and I were idly waiting for our Anthro professor to show up. It was 8:3o in the morning and everyone was feeling really lazy and so not in the mood to move at all. But it didn't keep our classmates from talking with each other in fairly high decibels.

So there we were talking about anything under the sun and about nothing at all. The whiteboard was a mess. The last professor who used it didn't bother to erase his notes. After some time, one of our female classmates entered the room. She sat at her usual chair in the front row. Then she stood up, walked up to the whiteboard, took the eraser from the top and started wiping the board clean. She took her time, making sure she didn't miss a spot.

I didn't know why it moved me so much. Seeing that young lady wipe the whiteboard for our 71-year old professor. I have never seen a more kind act for such a long time. I couldn't help but stare at her and wonder, "why did you do it?" Nina and I were so amazed, but sadly, we were the only ones who appreciated that lady's gesture. The rest of the class pretended they didn't see anything and kept talking with each other.

I realized just how apathetic today's youth has become. So much so that no one is anymore amazed by a simple act of kindness. Everything is taken for granted. Everything.

Why do we look for greatness? Must everything always start by doing something big? Sometimes we tend to overlook the simple things that make us human, that remind us that in our heart of hearts we are capable of kindness. There were times after that day that I asked myself why I didn't do it. I came in earlier than that lady. I saw that the whiteboard was a mess. Why didn't I do it?

I realized that I myself have become apathetic. I have ceased to believe in kindness myself. And I think that Thursday morning God wanted to tell me that kindness does not need to be brazen or big. Kindness starts by initiative, by the desire to make a difference even in just small ways. I wanted to talk to that young lady afterwards. I wanted to tell her that I was blessed by what she did. I wanted to thank her for having the courage to be herself.

Finding God on My Doorstep

2004-11-14T22:24:00.000+08:00

One fine morning, I found God on my doorstep waiting for me. I wasn't expecting him. I was very much surprised just like Bilbo Baggins was when all these strange dwarves started knocking on his door one by one. The problem was, unlike Bilbo, I wasn't very much aware that God was on my doorstep. I pretty much brushed past him without even a backward look. I was too busy, see, or so I thought.

The rest of the day went by. I felt like I galloped through it like a horse with no name. It was pretty much one of those days. Those days when breathing is taken for granted or when close friends are forgotten for a while - all for the sake of the day's work. There wasn't anything new, or so I thought. I went home feeling tired as usual. Sometimes I think it's almost pyschological. It's the end of the day; therefore, I must be tired.

And there was God still on my doorstep; still waiting for me.

Surely, he must have gone somewhere else all this time; surely, he found somebody else who would pay more attention to him than I; someone who wouldn't take him for granted, who would cherish such a visit from no less than the Great Designer of the Universe. But he was there. I asked him why did he bother to wait?

He said, "I wanted to show you I am right where you left me."

First Day of The Last Season

2004-11-11T13:55:00.000+08:00

This is my last semester. After this, good-bye UP, hello world. You know those dreams you had when you were a kid? Those dreams that someday you'll be on top of the world? Well, honey, I realized I ain't. I'm right smack on the ground with my two feet deep in the soil. After this, I will be released (or, what my anthro teacher said, "launched," like a rocket) into the real world and get devoured (again, like what my anthro professor professed) by the "wolves" and "lions" that prowl in this bigger, more vicious jungle.

The possibilities are endless...not. Either you make it or you don't. I can't say I'm scared, not really. The prospect of unemployment looms like a specter but I brush pass it in honest belief that, surely, there must be one job left for me. One measly job that would feed me and allow me to stand on my feet and say to my folks, "there you go, your investment paid off."

Walking around in the campus this morning gave me a feeling of nostalgia. In five months, I will no longer have the luxury of just hanging around. It seems that it was only five minutes ago that I was an 18-year old freshman, fresh from my adventures from another country, full of expectations and fear.

The adventures are gone, but the expectations and fear remain. I am in search of the woman that I'm supposed to be. I realized I wanted to become so many somebodies, but there's not enough time, and not enough opportunities. It is during these silent moments that I wonder aloud about so many things and nothing at the same time. It is during these moments that I look back at my life, my whole entire 21 years of life and ask, "Is there so much more than this?" I know there is, but I ask the question nonetheless.

What I wouldn't give, what I wouldn't do just to open my door one bright morning and find a Gandalf on my doorstep, or a pair of ruby slippers, or a wardrobe, or a march hare that would lead me somewhere, someplace where, indeed, there is so much more.

On the Rainy Side of the Street

2004-10-12T15:11:00.000+08:00

It’s bad enough when it rains. It’s worse when you have no umbrella.

One Thursday morning, I ran like crazy from building to building along Katipunan Avenue groaning at the injustice of it all. A few minutes ago, the sun was shining so brightly, the pavement formed mirages from afar because of the heat. The sky was so very, very blue, and the birds were singing a symphony (Okay, fine, there were really no birds, we’re in the metropolis for crying out loud).

And now, I’m soaked. Yes, almost the point of embarrassment. And if that was not enough, to add to my running pleasure, the avenue started to get flooded. Mud and brown water splattered on my sneakers and jeans. I ran past Starbucks (must…not…buy…mocha frapuccino) past National Bookstore (gotta get The Purpose-Driven Life Journal, hint hint), past McDonalds (must…not…buy…choco sundae) and resumed running across the street towards my destination – the video rental shop.

It was closed.

I pushed off my jacket’s hood from my clinging hair, blinked the raindrops away and looked again. I stared at my watch. Was it or was it not ten o’clock in the morning on a Thursday (in other words, office hours)? Yup. So why was the shop so very very closed? Beats me.

From where I was standing, the padlocked metal, sliding door seemed to grin at me, “Poor you. Nyahahaha!” I had half a mind to kick it. Throw the movies I rented at it. Scream along with the thunder, or wander around the avenue drenched and desolate like so many heroines in melodramas. Instead, I sat down on the steps leading to the shop, muttered under my breath, and wished that I was somewhere in the Caribbean sipping mango juice on a hammock.

Complaints started to parade across my brain like beauty pageant contestants. I didn’t really want to watch Godfather I and II, my Film 104 professor just required us; I have so many things to do and I’m just wasting my time sitting around here; I am soaked; I’m going to get sick; I’m cold; I feel miserable; I haven’t gone home in a month (my parents probably won’t recognize me anymore); I’m hungry; the world is such a hard place to live in; people are so unpredictable, and so on and so forth. I was trudging down agony lane.

When I have succeeded in making myself more miserable than ever, I started to ask God, “Why did you drag me on a Thursday morning to get soaked under the rain?” You know what He said, He said, “Because you don’t know how to wait on me.”

Needless to say, I was dumbfounded. I didn’t actually expect Him to answer me right there and then, but there it was! He went on, “You could have gone this afternoon instead. I tried to tell you, but you won’t listen. You’re always chasing after time. Always worrying about whether you’ll get your work done for the day. You talk to me when you can spare a minute or when you’re about to go to sleep. You don’t think that I see everything you do and that I share in your suffering. You don’t believe in me enough and that’s why you do things your way.”

It was the rebuke of my lifetime.

I sat there in near-shock. If people were to look at me at that moment, they would have thought I’ve gone catatonic. I think I must have looked like I have bumped my head on a rock or I have woken up from a long coma.

See the length God goes to just to get our attention? He could have told me this in the safety of my room, but no. He does a production scale of a demonstration and even casts me as the main actor (and look at that, real rain). I tell you no one drives home a point more clearly and effectively than God.

Personally, I would have given everything for that wet Thursday morning. It was at that time that I realized that God really meant business. Oh yes, He’s a loving and compassionate God, but He’s also the God of discipline. He has to be strict and do you know why? It’s because He’s the pilot and we are the passengers. Our very lives and safety are on His hands. He wants us to arrive at His kingdom safe and sound and that’s why He needs to discipline us now and then. That’s why He rebukes us when we err and convicts our hearts when we sin. It’s for our own good.

As what Max Lucado said, in his book In the Eye of the Storm, God is more concerned in getting us home than getting us a good job, good grades, and even more than getting us to the altar (single people, listen). That’s how God wants us so badly. He will do everything in His power to make sure we stay aboard. Does it mean we get what we want? Most of the time, no. (Come on, we only aim for Chocnut when God wants us to have a Ferrero Rocher) Does it mean we get comfortable? I tell you, no. Comfort is not the priority here. God will jolt us, break us, pound us, surprise us, even allow us to suffer just to ensure we get a meek heart and a heavenly perspective. Does this mean God is sadistic, even masochistic? No. He’s just wise. He sees the big picture, and He sees that it is good.

They say Christianity is for the brave. Yes, it is, but it’s also for those who are willing to lose it all so that they could gain Christ. Easier said than done, you say. But have a little faith, friend, even if it’s as small as a mustard seed. You’ll find out that even if you dive in, you’ll end up walking on water. There are only three things you really need to understand about God – He is sovereign, He unconditionally loves you, and that is enough.

I went back at 2:00 in the afternoon that day. The rain had stopped. Nope, still no birds. The shop was finally open. A bell rang when I pushed the door. I gave the movies I rented to the lady behind the counter. She smiled and said, “Thank you. Have a nice day.” I smiled back. The bell rang again as I stepped out into the sunlit road.

Note: Was this too religious for you? Then I guess, you needed it.

Awakenings...not

2004-10-08T20:28:00.000+08:00

It is one of those days - those days when nothing seems to happen except the passing of time. You wake up, you get up, and you go to school or work or wherever you pass your existence for the day. Then you go home. You flag down a taxi, a bus, a jeepney, whatever it takes to stop the madness and bring you to a place of rest, existential or non-existential. You get to your destination and that's thirty minutes, an hour, two hours already of your time gone.

You sit in your room, throw your bag, books, attache case, keys on your desk, bed, or drawer and sigh. You look around your room, rub the back of your neck or your face to ease the tension. Then you sigh some more, kick off your shoes and crawl on your bed. You collapse on your belly, your face pressed on your soft pillow with its white, flowered or checkered pillowcase. You close your eyes for a few seconds, a few minutes, and then... you remember that you're hungry and you haven't cooked anything for dinner. The thought of rummaging through your kitchen cabinet for canned goods or microwave dinners leaves you more tired than ever.

You don't want to get up at all.

Suddenly, the phone on your bedside table rings, and you try to ignore it. It rings twice, thrice, four times, five times, then stops. Relieved, you proceed to close your eyes once more and then it rings again. You scrunch your forehead and moan a little. Suddenly, a thought passes your mind. What if it's from home? What if an accident happened? What if it's from your boss/teacher/any figure of authority that has the power to make or break you?

You realize you have to answer it.

You turn on your back real slowly, groan some more and extend a shaking arm towards the phone. You take it off the hook and hesitantly answer,

"Hello?"
"Hi. Are you lying down?"
"Who's this?"

You try to familiarize yourself with the voice, but your thoughts are blurry and you're simply just dead tired. You have no time for guessing games.

"Are you lying down?"

Two can play a game.

"Who's this?"

The voice chuckles. "You haven't changed at all."

"Who are you, Alfred Hitchcock?"

You hear a click and the dial tone bursts in your ear, and you grimace. You remove the receiver from against your ear, look at it, and put it down. You shrug your shoulders and willingly, eagerly, fall back on your soft bed.

You're too tired to even feel the stirring of msytery around you, to welcome the small thought of curiosity that creeps ever so slowly from where you are lying down. Honestly, you're too tired to even care. If adventure wants you so bad, then it can perhaps miraculously give back the enthusiasm you lost over the years, doing the same things, searching for the same meanings, and finding nothing...nothing but the image of you lying down on your bed with your hand still holding the phone.

The Purple Planet

2004-09-04T19:23:00.000+08:00

Today, we finished our powerpoint presentation for our thesis proposal. Wala lang. For comm res students, that's a lot.