Monday, June 27, 2005

Just a Breather

Book in Hand: Rule of Four by Ian Caldwell and Dustin Thomason
Song in Mind: Oneof those nameless songs by Nina
Word in Mouth: Wahey!


I've just been checking the tracker of this blog and checked the referrers and came up with this list of actual searches in yahoo and google which in turn led them to my site: (these were the exact words used)

1. kumpletong kanta ng kampanerang kuba ( anong title ba kasi nito? pasan ko ang daigdig??)
2. how to let go (try eating avocado)
3. really deep tagalog words (sang damakmak na katarantaduhan... naghahanap ka ng tagalog words in english?)
4. survey na tungkol sa moving on (lahat na lang talaga sinusurvey na)
5. krystala soundtrack (por diyos! excremente!)
6. baywalk bodies picture (ahahaha! ang alam ko picture ko lang ang meron dito...)
7. geek ako (ay, ako rin)
8. geek eyeglasses (ang eyeglasses ba ang nagpapa-geek sa isang tao, o tao ang nagpapageek sa eyeglasses?)
9. geek purple ( ano ito? may hunky red ba? or cheerleader pink?)

and last but not the least

10. photo of felix manalo (ha? ano? ha? ano ulit???)

-- -- -- --

By the way, the tree planting activity I organized last Saturday (which happens to be National Arbor Day) went well. It wasn't perfect, but it was ok, I guess. Hay, I don't know if I love or hate events management. The details are just killing me. But nothing else in this job excites me and sets my creative juices flowing than a good event to organize.

Tomorrow, I'm accompanying Daddy to the hospital so i took a day-off from work. I know going to the hospital ain't a vacation, but anywhere not anywhere near my desk is a vacation to me. Hehe. :) But I did try to clean up my desk this morning. I think I succeeded at the rate of 12%. Aherm. So I'm the most disorganized person you'll ever meet who's being forced to be Obsessive Compulsive at work. And I wonder why I'm going nuts.

I'm really excited about this book I bought, Rule of Four. My students from Com Sci last term were raving about it. I admit my curiousity got peaked and I bought it even if I know I'll have to pay the consequences later. My wallet is a big black hole. Just about sucks away money the same way too. i really don't have any right to complain about being poor, since it's my way of living my life that's making it complicated. The only vice I have is spending my money on too much food and too many books. It's true, I can even go for years without buying new clothes. Part of my wardrobe actually dates back to my high school years. Yes. That's 8 years ago. I've always been big, and some of the large stuff I had back then can still fit me now. Suffice to say, I never know about current fashion until it's passe already. And I really don't care either. I can just not choose to buy any accessories, kikay stuff, etc. But you have to kill my last breath before you can stop me from buying a book I want. But I digress. I was saying I have this new book and I'm dying to finish it so I can tell you about it.

Another thing I terribly miss is watching movies. I NEED TO WATCH A MOVIE SOON! It's been too long since my last Geek Guide. I still want to watch:

1. Sin City
2. Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy
3. Shutter
4. Mr. and Mrs. Smith
5. Batman Begins
6. Monster-in-Law
7. War of the Worlds

I just don't know where to start. Hay. Soon enough though, I will watch. Sa sweldo siguro.

Thank God for Medicard, I don't have to worry about my Dad's hospital fees and I get a little extra for my book-lust and movie-hunger. It's the best thing about my job. Possibly the only thing that will keep me doing my job. That Medicard covers 150K per disease. And we are entitled to private hospital rooms, and it's free everything. Once, we walked out of UST hospital and only paid P 20 for the wood used as a hand splint. Kaya nga I'm not afraid to get sick. I'm actually looking forward to it a little. It'll be like an all-expense paid vacation. Haha! And you don't have to feel guilty afterwards because, hey! you were sick! Saya talaga. I know I'm morbid to think this way, but I've always been this eccentric. So let it be. :) Everyone's a little crazy in their own odd ways.

Sleepy now, so til next time, weirdos. ;)

Friday, June 24, 2005

Antok na Ko

Siguro, bangag na sina Eman and Ian, Raffi at Ayeene kina Mike right now. Despedida kasi nga pala ng LRO kay Ms Eden kanina sa house nina Mike. Super traffic.

Hay, Ako, antok na. Ako, tulog na. Magigising ako, late. Thank God it's Friday.

Ghosts Of Manila

(More specifically: Ghosts of PBSP)

Today is Manila Day!

Special non-working holiday! Wahey! But, of course, working in PBSP as I do, holidays are mythic, imaginary things we make up to keep ourselves sane. I have to go to the office later this afternoon. Have to finish preparing for the Tree Planting Activity in Mount Banahaw on Saturday. I even have to sleep in the office because we leave very, very early on Saturday.

Nyay. Sleep in the dorm. Double Nyay talaga. That building reeks of ghosts. That building will crumble to dust with those spirits still trap in it. Hay. I'm not sure it's such a great idea to talk about this so close to the witching hour. But I believe I'm pretty safe here at home.

I remember when I was younger that I have always been a candidate for schizophrenia. I grew up as an only kid until I was four years old, and by then I learned how to play by myself. I talk to curtains, walls, dolls, plants, chairs... you get the idea. I've always been described as the kid with the hyperactive imagination. I guess that was like a brand of some sort. To me, it felt negative. Since I loved telling stories then, adults assumed that I was just always making up stories when I tell them stuff. No one believed me for some time when I told them I kept seeing, feeling, hearing weird stuff. My parents said that when I was just a baby, weird stuff kept happening around the house. Like hearing a tik-tik sound outside the window for days on end. If you're Pinoy, you're probably familiar with the creature of the night they call "Tik-tik". Something like a vampire. Another thing they told people were that, for the first few days I was brought to the house, a cat will always creep up to the bedroom window and stay there until the sun is nearly up again. They decided to tie a rosary to the window (my parents believed in pseudo-stuff like that), and funny enough, the weird sounds and the cat stopped coming.

I don't know how that's connected to the things that I can still remember happening afterwards. The most disturbing thing was when I was about nine or ten, something kept waking me up at exactly 2:30 in the morning. On the dot. First, I will hear this eerie pipe/flute - like music. Then I will hear laughter and sounds of people making lots of noises as if partying. Just imagine me as a kid, waking up at 2:30 whether I liked it or not. When I hear the first few sounds of that music, I freeze, because I knw there was no escaping it. I promised myself I will never, never look out the window. Never. And eventually, it stopped. I've seen a lot of other unexplicable things. A black cloth fluttering near a neighbor's window back when I was staying at my lola's house in Libis. A woman all in black staring at me from outside the living room window (again at my lola's house). SHadows of children on the closed window panes at midnight. Stuff I don't care to remember anymore. I've seen some bad stuff. But I've seen good stuff as well. I've seen my guardian angel for one. He saved my life twice. I'm not sure if it's a he or a she. Instinct tells me it's more of a male-like aura. But I can never be sure. Everytime I tell an adult though, they'd sooner call me a wild imagineer than truthful little livvy.

Anyway, for some time, that stopped. The visions, the sounds, the feelings. I was around 15 - 17 years old and I had relative paranormal-free peace. But then the feelings returned.

It's really more of a sensing. I was in a leadership training once and I felt strange energy emanating from one place in the compund we were staying in somewhere in Tanay, Rizal. I moved closer, and even entered the hut where it felt the strongest, and that's when I knew I'll always be on the look-out for that kind of feeling from then on. You just knew it was other-wordly. Someone with stronger seeing-eyes in my org confirmed that there was a spirit of a woman there, where I just went. Nyikes. After that, when the prickly feeling comes up, I stay away or I mutter a quick "Avert!" or an invocation to Jesus.

Then when I graduated and started working for PBSP, the strength of my sensing increased, and now, I can see again. Not strongly, thank God. But it's disturbing enough. That office building is not a peaceful place. It is a churning, boiling, reeking place underneath the sleepy surface.

The first one I saw was in the third floor of the building (our floor). One time when I passed by our Executive Director's room (he was out and the lights were off), I saw a man seated at the small glass table inside. In the dark. Since it's been a while since I've "seen", I didn't think it was anything paranormal. I just wondered why that man was seated all alone in the dark in Sir Gil's office. Then when I got back to my chair, the prickly feeling came and it dawned on me what i saw. Suffice to say, I don't pass by that way anymore after 6:00 p.m.

The most disturbing one is the woman inside the big girls dorm room. For some reason or another, she doesn't like me. She keeps disturbing my sleep. At first, it was the pitter patter of feet around my bed. Then in escalated to waking up to a feeling of being pinned down and not being able to move. Then finally, the last straw which made me promise myself I will never step inside that room again, was when I woke up lying face down on the bed and feeling a weight on me. I couldn't move. But I can feel the "breathing" of the person on my forehead. It was so real that I can see my hair moving. Then I saw an arm slung over me. That was when I freaked out. It took me a while to fight it. (Best way is to calm down and pray and "throw" as strongly as you could). When it disappeared, I stood straight up and fled the dorm. I left my glasses and it was hellish having to go back for it. But that time I made sure there were people in the dorm who were awake already. Argh. It's alright when you're with people. I just can't take it when it happens to me alone.

Oh dear Lord, preserve me. I don't know what's with that place. I don't know what can be done about it. I mean, how do I get anyone to do something about it? Can I just walk up to HR and say, "uhm, Mam, I have some problems with the people at our work place. Nope, I'm okay with my unit. It's the dead ones I can't stand?"

Tsk, tsk, that's the fastest way I can get myself commited to a mental institution. I mean, who will take me seriously? Stories have been circulating in the office for years now. But nothing's changing about it. Truth of the matter, I don't think anyone can do anything about it. The place is older than we are. Intramuros is an ancient city. They were there first. What if we're the ones who're destroying their peace? Haha.

Weird world.

Monday, June 20, 2005

Monday Pa Lang?

Or better yet.... 2005 pa rin ba? Feeling ko kasi 2110 na and I've gotten so old.
Not that I expect to be still alive a century from now. God forbid. ;)

I turned down a chance to transfer to another unit today. Only because I have utter belief that it will both exhaust me and bore me to death. Labo noh? I understand that position will be so challenging, hindi siya easy-peasy. What in the whole of PBSP is easy? :) But it will also be boring for me because it's administrative and technical at the same time. And all this months, I've been gunning to build a career profile of a "field person" or what I call a frontliner. Yung tipo bang, pinangsasabak sa laban. Foot soldier, infantry, call it what you want. But I want to be down at the nitty gritty. Just don't throw too many details at me, because I'm freakingly incompetent at keeping track of everything. Ask my bosses. :)

Anyway, I just realized I miss Andrea so bad today. And for some weird reason, si Jed. Then I found out he got a friendster account and he requested to be added to my network. Weird, huh?

Haha. Friendster. Norman detests it. He calls it juvenile. Peloy doesn't seem to be such a big fan either. I'm one to admit it's pretty useless and it is kinda pa-cutesy lang. I mean, it's completely biased. No bad-mouthing could ever get on those pages. So, you just get a skewed view of who the person is. But I have a friendster account because I am fascinated by the fact that we could all be connected to each other, and I love studying by how many degrees.

Ever heard that theory that we are all connected to everyone in this freaking world by not more than seven degrees? I believe it's actually scientific. Wow, diba? And I was so amazed to see that I can get info and even pictures of a person I never imagined I could ever be related to. Kaya nga it works so well para sa mga stalkers dyan. Back then, no one's that paranoid yet in Friendster. Wala pa yung choice to choose who could view your profile. And that was when I enjoyed it the most. to learn that there is this guy in Australia I will probably never meet but is connected to me three friends away. There's a girl in Missouri who turned out to be the cousin of my cousin and is just two people away from being acquainted with. For a person who likes studying people and the way they interact, it was fabulous.

Pero ngayon, boring na. As I've said, pa-cute na silang lahat. And there are so many restrictions. I guess for a good reason. It's just too bad for people like me. All I really wanted was to be knocked off my feet by the mere fact I can be connected to practically anybody in this world. Makes you feel a little less lonely. Somehow.

wait....
Shiyat. Monday pa rin? Gads, welcome to the longest day of my life.

Saturday, June 18, 2005

Exodus

Out of the Desolate Lands for a number of days now. Turns out, my survival instincts kicked in and I remembered that misery is a choice, after all. Yep, so much better with the living and the smiling stuff again. Guess Life's just like that, a freaking roller coaster ride all over this complicated planet.

Funny, I should be hyper sad today because I found out Daddy's heart situation isn't getting any better. His heart's left ventricle is very weak, it cannot pump sufficient blood throughout his body. That's why he's been so sick the last few weeks. But what dawned on me was that, if anything bad ever happened to me, that would've wrecked my Dad's heart completely. And since he and Mummy are both sick, I've got to be the strong one now. Also, money's tight right now. I can't believe I got a bit nervous when I thought we had to pay P250 bucks for the dietician's advice for daddy's new diet. I mean, goodness, a measly Php 250 bucks. I started panicking inside because that's exactly how much money I have in my wallet and if I use it, I'm a sitting duck for the next two weeks. And I know my parents' are holding on tight to what little we have because there are bills to pay. Lots of 'em.

Yeah, I have reasons to be sad today. But see, what happened was I looked up to the sky and I saw that it was one amazingly pretty day. Blue skies, fluffy white clouds, clear light streaming in throughout the heavens. Sure a lot of things are tough right now... But look at that sky!

It's so breathtakingly beautiful I just couldn't find it in my heart to hate this world.

So here goes nothing... I'm walking.

Faltering, yes.

But definitely moving forward.

Friday, June 17, 2005

Paint Me A Pearl, Love

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A pearl brooch is seen in a closeup of Raphael's 'Fornarina' portrait in Milan June 13, 2005. The tiny pearl brooch seems an innocuous detail in Raphael's enigmatic 'Fornarina' portrait, but for one group of historians it unlocks a scandalous love affair kept secret for centuries. According to new research published in May, the pearl, pinned onto an elaborate turban, is part of a web of allusions to the Renaissance artist's clandestine marriage to the beautiful sitter, a baker's daughter -- despite a very public engagement to the niece of a powerful Vatican cardinal. Photo taken June 13, 2005. (Reuters - Handout)

Tuesday, June 14, 2005

It Never Ends

Book in Hand: Shadow of the Hegemon by Orson Scott Card
Song in Mind: Piano in the Dark
Word in Mouth: Stress!



Sorry, I didn't mean to not write for a week. But work just never ends and what little time I have I zealously spend trying to recuperate. I actually need the time to repair my frazzled nerves. Whew! Nobody wold believe the week I had last week. I still can't believe I've lived through it. 6 whole days of unadulterated stress. This work will make me old before my time. But I made it through the worst part of the tunnel, and I see the light at the end of it now. I might just be suffering from a two-year itch from my job, or I just need a change of pace. Soon. I will make a decision about work soon. But for now, here's some pics that make me laugh:

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Olivia Climbed A Mountain. And Actually Made It BAck Down to Tell the Tale.

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Oh, So That's What a Staff is For.


So would I climb back again?

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Bleh! Not if I can help it!

Sunday, June 05, 2005

Shop of Forgotten Things

Book in Hand: Fifth Elephant by Terry Pratchett
Word in Mouth: Forgotten


What if walking through the mall one day, I chance upon a queer shop I've never seen before?

What if, amidst the other glitzy shimmering displays in the mall, I peer through the somewhat musty window of this particular shop with a wooden sign hanging up front that says "Shop of Forgotten Things"? And inside I see the oddest assortment of stuff for sale.

What if, in impulse, without really giving it much thought except for the way I noted the extraordinary effort it took me to open the door, I went in?

What would I find? Who will find me there?

--- *** ---

I touched a glass case with a deteriorating soft ball inside it. Who would buy that?
I fingered the lace of an extremely moldy dress which looked as if it was a wedding gown. Except for the fine lace, the whole thing looked just about ready to fall apart.
On another display shelf, there is an assortment of eyeglasses --- peculiarly unremarkable each and every one of them. On a shelf below it are three wicker baskets full of keys. For what, I wonder?

"Fancy something?"

My heart did a triple somersault without my meaning to. I turned to face the happy, lilting voice and I see a woman who's maybe around 50, with the ruddiest cheeks I've ever seen and firebrand hair. Not a common sight in any of the 7,000 islands of this country. Using my distended knowledge of the world culled from Hollywood movies pregnant with stereotypes, I decided she was Irish. Or Scottish. Or an alien from another galaxy. Haha.

"No, thank you, just browsing." I tried for that polite smile I always use on overeager sales clerks. I moved away from the shelves, away from her and nearer to the book cases. My index finger touched the spines of the dusty books while I read through the titles. The Secret of the Golden Isles, Seven Thousand Temples, The Mice of Hilgbranden.... kooky. But interesting at the same time. The woman did not follow me around as I have feared. She actually bustled out of the room, tut-tut - ing all the way.

Odd. But flattering. I must look like a nice girl to her --- someone who won't try to shove something under my clothes. Not that it would be possible for me to hide anything under my thin blouse. I could run though. Then again, remembering the pounds I packed on the last few years, maybe not. I was disappointed, all of a sudden, to be thought of as someone so boring she would not even try to nick a pair of eyeglasses just for the heck of it. I was ready to go then and there. I was. But the woman came out again with a mug and to my incredulous amazement offered it to me.

"It's the best tea our side of the Isle. My son just got back the other day, I'd be wanting to share it with you." Her eyes were brimming with warmth and good nature.

Stammering, I answered her as politely as I could. "N - no, thank you very much. I'm not a big fanatic about tea." I regretted saying it the moment I finished. Guilt overtook me, and the boring girl inside me was cringing. A nice woman offers me a drink, unheard of in this impoverished country, and I instantly doubt her intentions. Was it spiked? Would she get my wallet and all of its three hundred pesos the moment I lose consciousness? But whatever for? "I've browsed around quite a while now. You have a very -- interesting shop. Thank you." I was a bundle of nerves. What I wanted to do was to stride out purposefully, but I've never been that kind of girl. I fumble and I bumble.

"She leaving already? First customer of the day and she buys not even a key?" A hobbling old woman entered the shop before I could reach the door. A very old woman. The polite way to call it would be wizened. But otherwise, she'd just be crinkly.

" I don't need a key." I answered testily. I felt like I was being backed very slowly to a wall. The sensation of not having a way out started to permeate my brain. "I have to go, thank you very much." I tried to keep the curtness out of my voice.

"You are not trapped in here, child. You can leave if you want to." the firebrand woman said. She had an expression on her face which conveyed what I believed to be pity. I fought to keep the panic away from my eyes, fought to keep it in a place they cannot see.

"I have every intention of going out now. Grandmother, if you would be so kind to let me pass-- ?" I nodded my head at both of them and started to walk.

The old woman made a snorting sound. She shook her head and started wobbling to the book case. "One of those half-lifers now, she is, isn't she, Lillian?" She took down a book, by far the smallest of them all. "I sense Irish blood in her. Watered-down, yes, but Irish. It's a miserable thing how many of the Isle's children forget their own legacy. No matter how many lives they've lived, they shouldn't."

I stopped walking. How can they know of my ancestry? And what in the world is ... "Half-lifer?" I found myself saying.

The firebrand woman the woman called Lillian, smiled kindly. "People of the Small Death. Of Sleep. Half of the time anyway."

"Okay." I told myself this is the time I slowly turn around and make head way to the door. "Okay." I said it again, not as a means of assenting to the woman, but to put a finality to the weirdness. It's gone beyond what I can handle. "Okay."

"She's not ready, I told you." said the old woman as she settled to a rocking chair and started flipping through the book. She squinted down at the pages. "All this fancy set-up, all this..." she waved a wrinkled hand to the clutter of oddities "...memories... they mean nothing to her. She's too far gone." Then she sighed. Quite visibly so. A wisp of smoke floated through her thin lips and curled about her chin before dissipating.

"Please Matilde, a while more." Lillian was wiping her hands on the apron. She turned her gaze back to me. "All these means nothing to you? To you who was once guardian of it all?"

"Guardian of what?" I shook my head and I found that I couldn't stop. I was thinking that maybe if I shake it hard enough, or long enough, they will disappear and I would not be here...

"Of Forgotten Things. The memories of humanity that have accumulated more grime than value over the centuries. You knew everything that is to be found in here. That is until you decided to forget about them as well."

The old woman, the one called Matilde, was clucking like a hen. "Do you want her to run straight from out of here screaming like a madwoman? Take it easy on her memories, Lillian, she's been human for too long. Tell her who we are first, before you tell her who she was."

Lillian looked unsure. She seemed to consider it a moment and then she nodded. "I am Mother. I am Dusk." She said it with a finality that echoed inside the shop. From somewhere inside my subconscious, a thought floated to focus. Words of power. She was saying words of infinite weight.

Matilde stood up from the chair and wobbled back to the book case. She placed the book back carefully. Then she slanted an eye to me and said. "I am Crone. And I am Midnight."

"And you are Ava. You are Maiden." Lillian said. "You are Dawn."

I closed my eyes to come into grips with myself. "I'm sorry. I'm Olivia, and you -- both are crazy." I functioned on automatic pilot. My feet took me to the door, my hands twisted the knob and my body pushed itself out -- back to the noise of the mall I was familiar with.

"Come back when you're ready, then." Lillian said. She was shaking her head, as if in deep regret. " A couple more years...?"

"Give or take a century." Matilde grunted. "We'll be seeing you, Ava. May you awaken to yourself, sooner than later."

I let go of the door and the mechanism slammed it shut. Before my very eyes, the shop began to dissipate in front of me. The musty window became dimmer, the lights from inside went out. The wooden sign, the door whirled into a blank wall. Nothingness.

I began walking, just for the sake of moving. A numbness was taking over me, I could feel it gripping at mychest. An image came to mind with such sudden alacrity that I had to take a deep breath to settle myself. I was walking away -- again. I was forgetting -- again. Back then, it was in the midst of the comfort of trees when I disavowed myself. It sharply contrasted with the white sanitary atmosphere of the mall I was walking through now. But not all different. Some things were the same. I wasn't exactly changed.

That was when it hit me. The pang of having lost something. Missing something.

And I knew it wa somethinng I left in that shop --- that odd commissary of humanity's refuse of baubles and sentiment. I belonged there, somehow. And someday, I might just come back.

To that place I had ----full of forgotten things.



Saturday, June 04, 2005

A Week of Mondays

Book in Hand: Virgin Suicides by Jeffrey Eugenides
Song in Mind: As I Lay Me Down to Sleep by Sophie Hawkins


Aw, shucks, where do I start? I've been away for a whole week without even a peep. And each of the last seven days might as well have been all Mondays. Depressing, depressing stuff. But since it's Saturday, my blood's running fine once more and I'm not as miserable as I've been. Glorious Saturdays! Best day in my book. Alright, so many things to say, hmmm....

STAR WARS 3

Contrary to what i would normally do, I have actively refrained from doing a geekguider on STAR WARS 3. What's the point? Everybody would watch it anyway, and they'd be forming little criticisms in their heads as well. Those who will not watch are probably those too old to care, too young to remember or too dead to know. But I can leave a comment or two in my blog, can't I?

In fairness, it was a better attempt than the last two prequels. (YODA, you coolest are.) But one can't just shake off the feeling that they're just trying to connect the dots of the prequels to the original movies. And man, whatever happened to good acting? Ewan McGregor can act -- I'm pretty sure of that. Big crazy pimple / wart on his face and all. But his pretty boy shots in the movies were--- ridiculous. I can't erase from my memory-data bank that shot when he was about to fight Darth Vader/ Anakin after the latter razed that some-outa-space-place. Obi Wan just freaking shook his cloak off his shoulders and let the cloth fall ever so graceful down his back. Whadafa?? Do you get to pose like that when you know you're about to slug it out with someone possessed by the Dark Force? And why does everyone keep circling each other before fighting? They do it for too long, I half expected them to stamp their feet and clap their hands and start dancing anytime. Another scene which really killed me was when Padme was lying down unconscious (which is consistent acting for Natalie because she looked half-dead half of the movie anyway) and Anakin was evil (Hayden's take on an evil, possessed face looks more like he just ate a dead rat and he's getting super migraine because of it, y'know that , eyebrows furrowed, forehead knotted, I-am-slightly-myopic look).

Oh Hayden, you're one gorgeous guy, but heaven knows what happened because suddenly you can't act. I knew you in Life as a House, and you were ever so believable. But now -- tsk, tsk. Transition from good to evil, my dear boy, and how to pull it off should have been something you asked your director. And the love dialogues between Padme and Anakin were all, oh how to say it nicely? Vomit-y.

The only thing bright and beautiful in the whole story was Padme's wardrobe. Her nightgowns could be worn during Oscar Awards night. Norman and I kept wondering though how one could ever sleep with all those beads and thingies that just would keep prodding you while lying dow. I loved how she looked during her funeral -- oh beateous gown! Lovely flowers in her hair! It's just sad to know that her best scene was when she was acting dead.

But did I enjoy the movie? Well, yeah. It was an event in itself. And the Book Club boys would have been a little disappointed if we didn't watch it. But my life could have gone on as normal even if I didn't. So, there. I guess I have more than just a couple of comments after all. :)

La Salle Students

Not that I know everything about all kinds of students, but I've been observing La Sallians during my classes. Most of the students are not as airheaded as other rival schools paint them to be. I've handled some really excellent kids in my time. It's just that there are some others who are as dull as bricks. Athletes tend to be the thickest sort, but I believe in Multiple IQ and maybe they're just intelligent in ways I can never understand. As for them being too cocky --- well, again, there would always be the braggarts and there would always be the rebels who seemed to have made a pact with the devil to challenge authority at all cost. In my class, I tend to get pissed off easily by the arrogant kids and the unecessarily naughty ones, as most teachers do I guess. God, a classroom is one huge test of patience and innovativeness and control. COM SCI students are the most behaved blocks, followed by the ENG'G group. The BAs and the BEs are the hardest to handle. Half of them attend class just too look pretty and cute. Sometimes, i can hear my own voice echoing inside the classroom half believing it's just as loud as the echoes of my voice inside their empty heads. (Hello? Lo? Lo?)

My class this term seems okay enough. I just regret that the person I was hoping would become block leader (she's got the class in the palm of her hands) moved to ROTC because of sched problems. Och! Here's hoping for the best.

Too Far Gone

I just finished watching Supersize Me on DVD. That ought to speak for itself. But for those who needs some updating, it's this semi-documentary on how eating too much McDonald's (or fast food) make you fat. Made me rethink if I've had too much McDonald's in my childhood. Lemme see --

Nope, I don't think it's just that. It's not just McDo or Jollibee or Wendy's or KFC, although I will admit I've got the same kind of Gen Y- fixation for these kind of food. The reason why I'm fat is because I enjoyed reconstitued easy-to-cook noodles too much when I was a kid. And too much Cheez Curls, Chickadees, Squid Rings and Prawn Crackers. Ice cream and chocolates. Rice. And some more rice! It's a damnable lifestyle. Not a bright idea for someone whose genes is a cornucopia of the world's most deadliest diseases - hypertension, diabates, cancer -- you name, we got it. For someone who likes to think she's smart, that's as dodo-like as one could get. Shtupid.

My note of interest for this segment is this: My sister related to me that after watching it in class, it made her think of how she wanted to eat some more McDonald's. Ironically, that's how I felt too. And a week after, the teacher asked their class if anybody was still eating there, everyone still raised their hands. Oh my. This generation is too far gone into the gloom! But now at least I will think twice before ordering french fries. And I'd probably try to never go Upsized for a while. I started pitying my body a little (fuschia! a little lang?!), seeing how it affected Morgan Spurlock. What am I doing to my liver??? Whatama doing to ma heart??? Oh fuck. My body must have hated me years ago. It must have wanted to apply for relocation if it had any way of doing so. I'm a freeeking disaster area - perimeter 1.

So, Liv, whatcha gonna do 'bout it, momma?


But Wait....

Why are you complaining if you're killing yourself ever so slowly? Wasn't it just ten minutes ago when you wished you just kicked up your feet and fell through a hole in the ground never to be seen again? I've been thinking a lot lately, about life, and how courageous one must be to live it. Takes some kind of guts to live everyday. SOmetimes I think I can't handle it. It would be much easier if I can just suddenly turn to mist and disappear -- get away from all the big bad things that's making me so miserable.

Doesn't help that I'm reading the Virgin Suicides. (Collective Gasp! Olivia, you can't mean ----?!)

Well, no. I can't. Not that i won't. I just can't. I can wish myself dead all I want. Pray for an accident to happen to me so I won't have to go to work (I've got it bad, don't i?) (livvy, livvy, see a doctor really quick). But I'm born too lucky for that to happen. And it's not like I'd go to the Big Bad all of a sudden. I just want the misery to end. Not Life.

Just the Misery.

And I'm far too stuck in the muck right now to remind myself how the bad things helps us see the good things. I know all the psycho-babble I should tell myself to pep up my mood. Heck, I spent 15 units on that in college. Abnormal Psych being my favorite of them all. I know all the symptoms, all the possible treatments, all the possible way out. But I'm paralyzed where I stand and I'm not sure if I could make it out of the Desolate Lands. Goodness, how self-absorbed could one person get? This ain't me.

Here's praying for a miracle... the only thing I've got left to hope for in my glooming soul.