Tuesday, May 30, 2006

Prayer of the Lost

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On nights like this, dreams seem to be much farther than I can bear it. When darkness stays, the stars seem so much smaller than they were yesterday. At this dismal point, it is easier to drop the sword and let the demons run me through with their pointed horns and their killing claws. When hope is faint, echoes of music play from somewhere too distant for me to hear. On nights like this, everything fails. On nights like this, I am lost.

I close my eyes and try to find the core of strength everyone said we have. At no great length, I give up with the Herculean effort to conjure the magic from the broken chords of my soul. I bend and search, but I cannot gather the shattered notes of my song.

On nights like this, come you saints of heaven. Rush to me, angelic armies of the sky. Hold up my arms before they fall leaden to my side. Bring your blazing swords to disperse the darkness.
Cut through the devils that grapple in my mind.

O Saints of Heaven, Armies of the Sky, watch over those who despair and who weep, who breaks and who keens and all those lost as I am.

May we all be found tonight.

Monday, May 29, 2006

The DVC, Taylor Hick's Awful Song and Good Reasons to Smile

Is it just me or is The Da Vinci Code kind of boring? Or is that just my standard reaction to any movie that stars Tom Hanks in it?

I am totally uninspired to write a geek's guider on it. I mean, what would it be for? People read the book, and now they've watched the movie. The only redeeming thing about the flick was my favorite actress' American film debut. Yes, I'm speaking of Audrey Tautou. She made the movie watch-able for me.

Maybe it wasn't even worth defying the Catholic Bishop Conference's explicit forbiddance to not watch the movie. Hay, I'm not worried about how my soul could be corrupted by the film. I'm more worried I'll never get my money back which could've been better spent on X MEN III.

Vapid reasoning, yes. Nevertheless, it's valid reasoning too.


Make no mistake, I'm happy Taylor won AI. I have mentioned this time and again. But it's just such a sorry thing we have to listen to his awful debut single. I didn't know people still wrote kitschy lyrics like that. How many cliches did they have to fit in one stanza anyway? Chockful of tired adages, that song.

Well, we could have had it worse though. We could be listening to McPhee's My Destiny and that's just plainly not right. That's just so wrong.


This pics prove that I am now a beach fan. I used to hate the sun and sand, but I'm starting to change my mind. It's the sea that did it. I can stand the irritating sand and the awful hot sun as long as the waters are there. Oh, and yeah, good friends as well.

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'Nuff said.

Sunday, May 28, 2006

Weddings and How It Now Begins

Oh f**k, Oh f**k.

My cousin who's just a couple of years older than I am held a rush wedding yesterday. Nope, girl not pregnant. But my cousin was promoted in his call center job and has to relocate to Dumaguete (now, that's some weird promotion, huh? Sounds more like excommunication to me) and he'd like to bring the girl with her. Mien (the girl) turned out to be a Gracean too, graduated three batches behind me and knew me as Ate Olivia.

As the Wedding March commences so does the misery I would forever now feel in the presence of our relatives.

"Oh, ikaw Ibiang... kelan ka kakasal?" asks an Aunt who before then still liked pinching my cheeks and calling me her little BIG niece.

Need I explain the fumble for words I went through trying to explain to her that her niece's love life status hasn't changed for the last, let's see, 24 years. She seemed shocked to hear I never had a boyfriend, even if I clearly remember her saying six months ago that I was smart to have finished my studies and get the feel of work first before "encumbering" (her very words) myself with a "papa".

Then the inevitable words came. "Siguro, papayat ka lang ng konti, iha, ang ganda ganda mo!"

F**K. Does it ALWAYS have to come down to that? I can feel the pressure of the stares of my relatives as they seem to be willing me via mind-warp that I should start eating grass and grass alone so as to lose weight ASAP.

Of course, the ultimate solution to my boyfriendless state is my looks, right? So now, no matter how I am basically the only pamangkin who graduated with honors in the best f**kin' university in the country, can hold a job for more than three months, and more or less, is the dependable one, I would just be THE ONE who'd probably be an old maid. (That's in addition to THE ONE who'd probably never be rich because she likes doing NGO work and stuff)

I'm next in line in their "Must-Be Wed" list and a very distant relative just tried to hook me up, in so many words, with the son of a friend's friend. He was also quick to enunciate that this guy is also big like me so we'd probably hit it off. That's probably his way of saying we're both the sizes of planets and gravity would more or less be at work and we'd be within each other's orbit. But there's nothing to prove that we won't collide instead resulting to bits and pieces of planet miasma scattering across the universe.

My only mistake was by answering his sales pitch by explaining that I have my own ideas about the man I'd like to be with and if I may be allowed to find this guy myself. To this he retorted, "Prince William won't marry you, and frankly, you always end up choosing gay ones."

Oh f**k. Who told him???

He added further insult to the situation by saying that, I was a flights-a-fancy girl and I should start looking at what's available and not at what's ideal.

I got so Xena-Warrior-Princess-mad inside.

My imagination is mine, and NO ONE can meddle with my fancies. I am ready to face a lifetime of being alone rather than to compromise it.

I do not expect Prince William to fall heads over heels with me and forsake the English throne for me. But I WILL marry a prince. The man I would marry would be a Prince among Men. He'd be such a decent, upstanding fellow that he can be King.

And as for falling for all the gay guys, that was such a low, low hit. I like my guys sensitive, intelligent and neat, thank you very much. That's more than I can say for him.

Goddamnit, Elliot! Stop getting lost in the forest already and come to my Ivory tower. Just don't go shouting to let my hair down, use the f**king door. I am not a prisoner of my fancies, I am just protected by it and therefore partially liberates me from having to settle for things (and men) less than ideal.

Hay. :)

Don't worry, dear friends, I'm okay. I'm more than okay... I am magnificent.

I'm just sorry for all the boys out there who'd never know that. Hehehe!

Saturday, May 27, 2006

The Only Season

Live Update Insert:

Not five minutes ago, Missy came back!! :) I am so totally right, she's not dead!! I'm sure I would know. I. Am. Sure. What does it say though that i can be so connected to a dog? Ah-eh... Don't care. I will trust my gut feel more than ever now.

Now back to our regular programming.


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Kat McPhee loses.

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Taylor Hicks wins American Idol Season 5.

Well, I'm just glad a SPAM did not win. But wasn't just that the best season finale ever????? Of course, it's the only AI Finale I ever watched, but the magnitude of the feedbacks of other AI watchers seem to validate that this is the best show Fox TV has ever pulled for AI.

What started out as a cheesy reality star search has reached its epic proportions when they now perform at the Kodak (my dream stage), and stars like Mary J. Blige and Dionne Warwick are wont to perform. Not bad. I'm almost impressed!

I kind of enjoyed the fact that they tried to show the the best parts of their audition as well. I didn't get to watch that part, and the American Idol Awards gave me a succinct summary. Man, they were bad. :)

I totally forgot that Carrie Underwood won AI last year, and I find it sweet that she decided to make Christian songs. I guess that's why she excelled and her album sold a lot. She opened the finale as she bids goodbye to the title.

The first major performance involved all the other Idol finalists singing Burt Bacharach songs. God, I didn't even know Bacharach was still alive. But the moment my Aunt heard him introduced, she instantly perked up and paid attention to the tube. When Dionne Warwick started singing, she was in heaven. Meanwhile, I cried when Elliot sang A House is Not a Home. God, Elliot, you look damn funny and other people say you ain't got the charm. But I would marry you in a second. Hear that? In. A. Second. Just sing to me It Had to Be You and If Tomorrow Never Comes Somebody to Love and (oh, I'd die if you do this) Moody's Mood for Love over and over and over.... oooops... sorry, blabbing again.

Anyway. AI had this weird time filler segment called Puck and Pickler. Kelly's shot at being an ingenue doesn't sit well with me. Feels like a farce. She didn't come across as innocent and pure --- she just seemed stupider than she really is. Now, why would anyone want to be portrayed that way?

I was especially glad that the other finalists were also given a chance to performs songs with some renowned American artists. It totally blew me away to hear Elliot sing the U2 song ONE. To make matters even more mind-shattering, Mary J. Blige sings with him! How cool is it that the best performance on the stage that night was Elliot --- again! Although Paris's duet with Al is a close second.

Worst performance during the finale? MEATLOAF.

For some five seconds I almost pitied Kat. Her voice was good as per usual, but was totally dampened by Meatloaf's off-key recitation of Celine Dion's It's All Coming Back. It's a damn song, not a stage play, man!

The Idols would be officially on tourand that would be completely off-acess to me now. Oh ell. I don't think I can stand to watch next year's AI. This too much excitement for a measly show is just too much for me now. I'm old. I'm freaking 24 going on 50 and I don't think my heart can take any more of it. :)

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Reminscent of the Boy Band Era and yet again --- I'm going for the shortest albeit nicest guy. Hay. Some things never change.

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Soul Diva with the Funky White Boy

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Yey for Elliot!

Thanks to rickey.org for the pics. :)

Tuesday, May 23, 2006

Zoom Past the Clock

Literally had no weekend this week.... had to work...
I know my other officemates do it all the time, but well, they're not me. They're probably not homebodies. I prefer to be in the house with my family on weekends because that's the time we're ALL at home. Makes it no fun to take day-offs during week days because that'll just leave me without anything to do for one whole day. I plan to make "bawi" this weekend. Walang labasan talaga!


Had been wondering about my ancestors recently. I find myself loving the idea that, watered down as the genial mix of my blood lines are, perhaps there used to be something exotic in it.

I am starting to rethink that there may be some credence to Aunt's theory that Ella and I have a mixture of weird magics in our ancestry. I just found out that the "third sense" is an actual genetic heritage from my father's side. I have it, three of my cousing have it, all of my father's siblings have it. I think even my Dad has it although he constantly denies it. (But I caught him knowing a few stuff he ought not to if he could not sense it). Maybe that's why the Burgoses have such melodramatic things to deal with. We see the world with an extra dimension.

Meanwhile, my mother's bloodlines can be traced back to Ireland. A certain Irish soldier named Gillegean spent some time in the Philippines during one of the world wars, sired a son, left the country and made the child a bastard. My Uncle George was big on the occult stuff and he was able to research that our blood lines may be traced to a clan in great Erin and our branch of the family may as well have been related to a priestess of some sorts. He claimed to have seen the short, dark-haired woman in one of his astral-whacha-macallit travels. (He's really kind of weird). I just note that Irish people are not characteristically short and dark-haired, unless they are from what the countryfolks believe the fae race.

This may all be hogwash, you know. I remember snickering when I heard my uncle tell stories. But last month, my mother was telling me how as a child, she saw and conversed with her grandmother and her grandmother's mother. She said she was about seven, and she didn't know then that both women had been long dead. She told me the story because, that particular morning, I unnerved her by wearing an old-fashioned duster (a house dress), with my hair held tightly in a bun. She suddenly realized I looked like her great grandmother.

When she told me this story, I realized that there's generation after generations of women on my mother's side who can sense things. And maybe do more.


Missy is our house dog. She's not pure bred and she's not especially pretty. But I don't like animals dying, if I can help it. Four months ago, she was ran over by an SUV. I am ashamed to say we did not bring her to the vet, because 1) My Dad was not inclined to go near the snarling, irritable hurt dog nor be inside a car with her, and 2) we do not have excess cash to pay a vet for whatever surgery he/she must peform. So more or less, the whole family was just waiting for Missy to die. She wouldn't eat, wouldn't move, she wanted to be alone and die. She was leaking weird gooey stuff all over the driveway where she lay. Yes, I admit, even I can see she will go soon.

But years of being told I touch people a different way, and years of being brainwashed that I have a healer-guardian angel watching over me (Rafael, if I'm not mistaken) made me decide to try to ease the dog's dilemma. I prayed over a dog (well, God made dogs too, right?) ((I can just hear Tito George guffawing, "Well, who's weird now, huh?")). I'm not sure what I was doing, but it involved a lot of messing around with the dog's mashed up energy and transferring some of mine. After a week of nightly healing sessions, Missy got better. A month later, she even got over her limp too. It can be just because the dog felt cared for and recovered. Or science stuff could have taken place. All I know though is that, she came back from wherever she was.

Then yesterday, I found out Missy ran out of the gate again and never came back. My family's theory is, bad men got her and she's probably dog stew by now. I realized I just borrowed some time for her, maybe lending her some of mine. I'm not sure how this thing goes. I've given her something of mine. Wasn't I supposed to feel her passing in connection to what I gave her? I didn't notice, so could that mean she's still alive somewhere? Or am I just caught in this stupid magical way of thinking? Seen to many movies, read too many books? When does magic become real? When do we call a gift, a gift? How do I know for sure I am not imagining things? All those times my parents asked me to lay a hand over them, were they just asking for some attention, a little outward show of love to help them heal or can I really do heal? Hay, does it really matter?

I can be pretty naive sometimes, true. I can be pretty weird too. But often times, I can be just so normal and average and non-descript and its hard to reconcile it with that part of me that gets so strange. Whatever it is, God gave it to me. Through my lineage, through my upbringing, through my own epiphanies.

I have a short number of years left to figure it out, but I will figure it out. But if the waters claim me before then, I can always ask Him when I get to hang out with Him. That'll be in a decade or so. Hopefully, a couple more decades, and that's really praying.

Saturday, May 20, 2006


Bye Elliot!

Dude, you do look like a Wolfman, but as Randy Jackson would say it, You're da bomb!

Sob! :( I will miss you, man!

I really don't have a lot of news for today. I find myself more interested to daydream about meeting Elliot someday. When he's not attached anymore. Annnnyyywayyy.

I just finished writing my speech for that Toastmaster thing on Monday. I still have mixed feelings about that group. But I still am gonna give it my best go. I just hope I don't bore my officemates to pieces.

Oh. i really need to start writing a story soon. My hands are itching that way again. And my brain is fizzled in that way when a good story is about to pop out but can't because I'm too busy thinking about other stuff (like today's Malabon activity and tomorrow's Little Olympics for another project). GOD! I really need You to help me find my niche here. I just am finding it absolutely impossibl to WRITE. You can't mean me to stay this half-distracted forever, right? Help me out here, puh-lease?

Oh, zoning out now.

Tuesday, May 16, 2006


Song in Mind: Come Around

I'm okay. No, really. I AM.

Maybe it's the shock that did it, but I did the one thing I never thought I would ever do. The one thing I was prepared to forget; the thing I could've just let pass for the rest of my life and everything would have been fine except that I would forever know I was a coward for choosing not to let it out (okay, okay, tama na drama! WHAT IS IT?). :)

I told my best friend that I used to be in love with him.

It maybe that the truth is harmless now, because it had been years ago and well, some other factors that are beyond anyone's control. But I'm just sick and tired of avoiding the issue, and being with my friends who are also playing nicey trying to avoid the issue. It's not as if nobody knew, right? The whole freakin' world knew about it.

And now that I know why nothing happened and why it couldn't have worked out, I have closure. As I've told him -- it's the final release and I am free. We all are.

And to him whom I've loved the best way I know how --- I wish him the best and I wish him the love of his life who is yet to come.

And by some Karmic Law, maybe I'll find mine too. :)

The End.

Thursday, May 11, 2006

The Expected Surprise

Oh, of course.

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Why didn't I think there'll be a shocker upset this Season on American Idol? It happened to Bo Bice and Constantine. Why couldn't it happen to Chris Daughtry?

Becaus Daughtry was a god for a few episodes now. But last night failed to wow the audience and now, as Seacrest would say it, He's Out.

I'm overjoyed Elliot got to stay. But I was really expecting Katherine to be booted out instead. She deserved it. Well, at least America got it right with Elliot. They just keep doing that and I'll hold my peace. :)

Elliot looked fabulous wearing a pink shirt. It is my theory that all hobbits (and look-alikes) look hot in pink. Trust me. I'm just a little disconcerted that the rest of the world population has got the hots for Elliot now, when back then they kept calling him the "Amish Leprechaun."

Two-faced ninnies, back off. I saw him first. :)

Wednesday, May 10, 2006

Vote Yamin!

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It's late and I should be really sleeping instead, but I just dropped by to issue a quick plea to any blessed soul in the US who CAN vote the next American Idol to please, please vote for Elliot Yamin. You've got two hours to do it so please dial those 8600 (not 1800) numbers and don't vote for spam.

I was prepared to say goodbye to my AI bet tonight, because I know America has a tendency to vote for spam. But Elliot had been truly, superbly, amazingly fantastic in his performances tonight. He did come in as a sort of underdog in the competition, and I'm hoping that'll make him a bit more endearing to the masses. He's not Seacrest-pretty, or flauntingly sexy but talent is talent and entertainment is entertainment, diba? He deserves to be in the semi-finals. I mean, it would be heartbreaking if he didn't. All the judges agreed he came in fighting and he succeeded.

Talent-wise, he sung better than Katherine McPhee -- whose last song was a bit strained and Randy Jackson was just being nice by saying it was just "a little" pitchy. I mean, c'mon. That overdone screeching was pitched like a curved ball from hell. But okay, I'll stop bashing Kathy because she's dime a dozen anyway. Go original. Go Taylor Hicks or Chris Daughtry if you want. But better yet, go Yamin. :)

Night, y'all.

Monday, May 08, 2006


At the risk of being labeled a hypocrite, I will confess this:

The City of Manila depresses the hell out of me.

At its very best, it's a colorful and historic place. At it's worst though, it's a human stink hole where the desolate and the half-dead live.

Everyday as I go to work, I have to walk through its streets where the unwashed bodies of men and women sleeping on the streets permeate the air. It smells of sweat and urine. The children are just as filthy, and they play in the middle of the streets where excrement, both human and animal, are redolent. But if you sniff really carefully (something which is not for the faint of heart), you'd smell the salty and musky odor of the nearby polluted river. Its reek covers the city like a shroud. On extremely breezy days, you can even smell the not so far-off bay which is not exactly crystalline pure either.

Manila used to excite me --- I saw it as a city of extremes. The ornate churches with their stone-paved plazas exudes an air thick with history. The walls of Intramuros itself breathes of eras gone by. Lavish buildings house some government offices and some old establishments. One can see that it used to be a city of rich people--- rich with culture, spirituality and vitality.

At the same time though, the most impoverished families could be found sleeping along the streets of Intramuros. These are people who have grown used to the filth that surounds them. I kid you not when I say the streets are full of human waste. I would save everyone the upset stomach by not describing how I managed to ascertain it came from people and not dogs. Every blessed day, I have to keep my eyes peeled on the pavement so that I will not accidentally step on a "time bomb." And in each blessed day, it never fails that I have to avoid a good number of places.

This is when I've realized I can't stand it anymore. I just couldn't stomach the smell -- especially during summer when the hot sun bakes the city, doubling its disgusting aroma. But most of all, I hate seeing poop everywhere. It has become my habit to look down while walking, even if I'm inside malls. I'm starting to see the world as full of shit.

And not just literally.

I hate what I have become, I'd be the first to tell you. For someone who's doing development work, the last thing I should be is ticklish of filth and dirt. But what I used to think was exotic has become too overwhelming now. Back then, when I didn't have to be in God's most accursed places every day --- I was okay with it. Back when I was safe in the knowledge that poverty is a far reality for me, I thought I was being so adventurous and noble. But now that life's a struggle, and my family's day-by-day existence is challenged with strife, the hell-hole which is Manila has become a threat. Too real, and I'm too much ingrained in the pattern of its stone pavements, the swish of its suffocating air, the amassed desolate people everywhere, which now includes me.

I am a self-centered, affected fool. I know.

I know I need a diferent way of seeing things. I would probably find it because it will define my sanity. My parents brought up no fool. I'd get over this "temporary kaartehan." I'm sure it's just my illness that's making me so contrary. But while recovering, I still don't know how to endure the next few days until I see a slant of light which will change how I view things.

I am 90% sure I will puke the next time I see filthy Intramuros again. Tomorrow, I will puke, and I will not be able to stop myself. Maybe, I'll even weep.

Angry. Disgusted. Terrified.

Saturday, May 06, 2006

38 Degrees

Summer absolutely sucks. It sucks if you're not in the beach or somewhere near a big body of water. The heat can absolutely fray nerves --- downside of living in a tropical country in a world afflicted with global warming.

So humid and I'm so pissed off; I have definitely been on Assassin mode the whole day:

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What I would've wanted to be was this:
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I spent my whole mornings downloading American Idol 5 songs on this amaaaazing blog / site rickey.com. He's Pinoy-American ( so need I discuss where he gets his ingenuity), and he gets away with posting mp3s of the performances of the contestants. Took me four hours to do it, but I have every single one of my favorite songs as sung by Daughtry, Yamin and one of my eliminated favorites -- David Radford. I was kind of surprised to find that the only song by a female contestant I wanted to download was that of McPhee's rendition of Queen's "I Want to Live Forever", but only because I like the song.

Oh goodness, I can spend forever commenting on the AI contestants. But I'll just content myself by showing you this cool pic: The Top 5 were in a Ford Commercial or some other, and my favorites were the very picture of hotness. yes, even Elliot! :) Sorry, I just absolutely adore this guy now. This guy just radiates goodness and homeliness with that little extra, y'know? Have you seen him offering his comforting hugs and shoulder squeezes to the other contestants when he is proclaimed safe? Unlike, let's say Paris, who just smiles triumphantly and marches to the couch with nary a look to the others still left standing. That's just a small thing, but it's got to be an indicator. And coupled with his amazing voice, I find myself not caring much about the distracting buck teeth and wide-eyed stares. And of course, Elliot's hobbit-esque countenance is an actual plus factor for me, strange girl as I am. Hehe, anyway, I blabber. The pic's here:

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Although, McPhee isn't one of my favorites, I have to admit she's hot.

Alright then, enough with the Paris Hilton language. (oooh, Paris Hilton! I haven't done any entries on her yet... ) I'm off to sleep then, hope to God I won't smother myself in my sleep just so not to wake up to another sizzling summer day.

Please allow me to go off tangent now and sign off with a plea ---

Let's not be mass murderers. Let's do what little we can to stop tainting the air, releasing dangerous substances into the atmosphere and polluting waters ---- This summer heat isn't an isolated event. It's an EFFECT of humanity's carelessness and I'm sorry to say, stupidity. Someday, we're all going to die of heat stroke, if the food we eat or the evolution of our body (for the worse) doesn't get to us first.

another night

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A night after I have posted my "wish" to my bookish fairy, I was basically asked again to describe the man I want to meet. Except this time, without my mighty pen, I was absolutely without words. Basta, I know I can still wait. :)

Weird night to get tipsy too. Can you believe that even if I only drank one bottle of San Mig Light, the mysteries of the accursed HANG OVER was revealed to me? I haven't even slept yet and my head feels like it's being drilled everytime I laugh. What more if I drank 3 or 5 beers? I'd probably feel like my head's splitting everytime I have to draw in a breath. Sorry na, hindi talaga kasi ako manginginom. Tonight, I was just feeling game for anything.

So game in fact, that I even popped half a ciggie -- making it the third time I've ever smoked in my life. I guess I just needed reminding that it really does absolutely nothing for me so why bother poisoning myself? Lately kasi, I've been eyeing cigarettes as stress-relievers. Glad I have reconfirmed that I'd probably stress myself out even more by trying to feel not stressed out while smoking.

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Hay, me and my boring life. So boring in fact, that I think drinking ONE bottle of beer and HALF a cigarette is worth writing about. But if asked, you'd find out I'm actually proud that my life's this boring that it takes a complete 360-degree-turn and I find myself asking (quite excitedly): I WONDER WHAT'S THE NEXT BORING THING THAT WILL HAPPEN TO ME???

Can't wait to find out.

Thursday, May 04, 2006

the bookish fairy

Tonight, while browsing through Booksale (yet again), I found myself quite shocked to find I was holding a copy of Aldous Huxley's award-winning novel "Brave New World."

Wasn't it just a month ago when I silently remarked to myself that I must find a copy of this right along with "A Clockwork Orange" by Anthony Burgess?

When I turned over the book to check the price, of course it was nowhere near the $25 benchmark I knew it costs if I ordered it on-line and had it delivered to me (since it seems unavailable in most bookstores in the country). It only cost me Php 50, and that's what, equivalent to $ 1? Huh.

That's when I hazarded a theory that a fairy godmother must be looking out for me and my literary greed. A bookish fairy, yes, and instead of wearing gossamer dresses, she probably dons sensible plaid skirts and grey blouses. Her wand must be a pencil with which she notes down my book whims and I can almost see her arranging matters so that I will get a serendipituous copy of any volume I want in one of the secondhand book shops I frequent. For a book enthusiast, that's very good news!

But for the other aspects of my life, it's dredging up quite disastrous results. For example, I am a literary enthusiast not an actual book worm. I cannot live on paper alone. How do I tell my godmother that maybe she can send me some major moolah for once? OR, maybe, she can look up from her long, long book listing and finally notice that she's quite forgotten how to lead my Prince Charming from his castle, through the Forbidden Woods, over the Debatable Hills, under the Fairy Mound and into the Moss-Covered, Algae-ridden, Dream-infested moldering two-floor house I currently call home.

If you are listening dear fairy godmother, I am quite prepared to never see a secondhand copy of A Clockwork Orange and.... maybe Neil Gaiman's Anansi Boys (now, that's sacrificing a major dream for me) in exchange of a guy who looks like that boy in the McDo Coke Float commercial, has got brains he actually uses to think, vivacity & wit to rival Ryan Seacrest, Elliot Yamin's singing voice, Gaiman's literary genius, Bill Gates' business acuity and a dependable farmer's work ethic and common sense.

And none of that sweep me off my feet thing we often read in novels, okay? Don't give me a simpering idiot whispering romantic nonsense. Although I want the guy to be witty, I don't want him to be talkative. There's a difference. I don't want him to be snotty and picky; I want the type who I can trust to adjust to whatever life throws at him. I imagine he has got a nice laugh, and a slow, genuine smile comparable to a ray of light. Can his speaking voice please not sound like mice squeaking or as if a matronly gym instructress has got his balls on a tight grip? I don't want him to sound like an ogre either. But if I have to choose, I choose the ogre. Oh, and can he have a genuine British accent? Well, that's not a real priority, but it'll just be nice if he sounds a bit like Colin Firth.

It's okay if he likes sports; please let him be boyish enough to know how to play Basketball and skilled enough to re-teach me Tennis. Let him be the patient type who can teach me how to drive, and stand my silly outbursts and oft-childish behavior. Let him like being mothered sometimes too, and I will try my best not to smother him. I hope he is someone who can stand strong even if he's standing alone, but he better not attempt any James Dean-type of bad boy rebelliousness or I'll just cuff him on the ears as if there's no tomorrow.

But, you know, just in case 99% of guys like that are either married or are in a "partnership" already, I guess the only thing I really, really, really care about is---

Can he be someone who just really, really loves me and accepts me just the way I am?

There you go, Godmother. Please, just don't take a hundred years to find him. :)

Wednesday, May 03, 2006

Tonight on Idol

Slow news night, folks. But I am super hyped up with the American Idol 5 show I just finished watching not more than five minutes ago.

Is it just me or is Taylor Hicks actually getting better? He's the kinda guy that actually grows on you. His performance tonight was actually entertaining. Yeah, he still sounds like a drunken wedding singer, but weird enough, in a warm and (eeek!) cute way.

Meanwhile, my heart is torn between cheering for Elliot Yamin or Chris Daughtry. Chris totally bowled me over last week when he did that amazing cover of When You Love a Woman. But Elliot I love because he sings the kind of songs I like and he looks like a hobbit. When Paula Abdul said once that he was beautiful, I totally got what she meant. I mean, he's a funny looking chap but there's something pure about him and his voice. Hmm... sounds like i'm on overkill, but I'm not.

I'm a little concerned that Elliot might be getting the boot tomorrow though. It's either him or the impossibly "TH" Kathy McPhee. Boohooo! Wish it's Kate.

I wasn't a big fan of AI, to be honest. The last time I watched was when Jasmine Trias was competing, and I didn't even get to finish that season. I heard about the issues during the last few seasons and I just didn't really care. This time around though, I'm totally in awe of these batch, and I swear each and every one of those in the Top 5 will have a relatively good future as singers and performers. They're that good.

Below: Universal pala talaga ang posing na ito:
The "kumpol-kumpol sa gitna kahit ang laki pa ng space" style

Photobucket - Video and Image Hosting

On top: Taylor Hicks
From Left: Chris Daughtry, Paris Bennet, Elliot Yamin and Kathy McPhee