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.
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.
Comments
Post a Comment