Liv in a Life Well-Lived

(pokes head out and sniffs the air) “Is it over?” Hi, folks. Guess we’re back online. If you care to know, yep, it was a particularly hard one this year. My self-taught headology explained to me that the 3rd year is a leave-don’t-go kind of phase, where memories are fading, and sometimes, even the pain recedes. But that just makes you fight harder to keep it here, right here, not letting go, because that’s one more thing to lose, and your heart will just break, or stop beating altogether if you lose one more thing that’s precious. Or at least that’s what Dr. Liv says. But don’t count it as an official prognosis; she’s 3 units short of a minor degree in Psychology. I can hear her quacking from a mile away. How I Spent My Holidays Anyhoo, my self-imposed hermitage did allow me to do super fantastic things such as wake up at 11 a.m., stress myself by playing Plants versus Zombies, forget to brush my teeth, cook food nobody in the house would touch with a ten-foot pole, and watch dvds one

I'm not here anymore. I'm somewhere else. I'm somewhere cold and downcast all day - the kind of weather that makes me happy. That kind of weather which makes me feel like I'm in a movie, and I'm the protagonist and something amazing is just waiting for me around the corner. Between here and there, is there a contest? Can you blame me? Consider me gone.

I have just finished the first season of Glee (thanks to my vid dealer, Kini), and I just realized how hooked I've become on the show. Very few shows can incorporate comedy and musicals on TV without being hokey, but somehow this show manages to tread the very narrow line bordering Hokeyville. And I have to say the songs are quite fantastic as well. Some of their songs were my standard bathroom song these last few weeks. :D Sad news is, the show's going on hiatus and won't be back until April. And no doubt that they'll be back. Fox can't cancel this show if they value their money. :D Meanwhile, we gleekers will have to content ourselves in performing our own renditions of Defying Gravity within the safety of our tiled bathroom walls.

Earlier this morning, I woke up with a story in my head. While brushing my teeth, I realized I've written a draft with a similar storyline and it's got to be around here somewhere. So I decided to look through my old notebooks --- but this isn't an easy task. I have got notebooks everywhere. And I can't stop buying them either. So what was supposed to be a 10-minute search turned into an hour of sifting through the pages of my hyperactive imagination. Finally, I found the lines I was looking for. In my dream, a blondish gboy was talking to an older girl --- his first crush and he was bumbling through the scene. In my notebook, he has a name and his problem was he was being initiated into the first pangs of puppy love: Roiben's first taste of irrefutable pain came as he watched a dark lock of hair fall across Sarah Asher's face. Pain in how it obstructs his view of her dark eyes. Pain in how this simple flaw emphasizes the otherworldliness of her pale face. He wa

My cousin is a huge fan of Pinoy Big Brother and never fails to tune in every night. Ako naman, it’s one more reason for me to retire to my room early. Tonight though, naabutan ko yung drama between Jason and Melissa. Si Ryan kinikilig. Ako, kinikilabutan sa ka-cornihan. Ang malaking tanong, tutoo kaya? Ganito lang naman yan eh. Sabi ng prof ko sa Psych 101, falling in love is as easy as 1-2-3. 1. Proximity – gaano ba kayo kadalas magkita? Nakakabit na ba kayo sa tadyang at alak-alakan? The more you see each other and spend time with each other, the more opportunities for you to get to know each other. And unless you look like the spawn of Godzilla with the personality of the second coming of Hitler (and maybe even then), the other person will probably find something attractive in you. 2. Similarity – The more you get to know each other, lumalabas din yung mga bagay na pareho at magkaiba kayo. Although, opposites attract, there would have to be something you share in common. I know peo

I always cry at weddings because it's a big deal to me that when my turn comes (or should i say, if), I wouldn't have my Mum and Dad to walk me down the aisle. Somebody on post secret shared what she did. She walked with her parents, still. Stig!!!!

Yesterday, we went to Nueva Ecija to attend my cousin's wedding and was prepared for the worst inquisition. My cousin was 2 years younger than I was after all, and yet there she is, looking resplendent in her knock-out wedding gown. Now I know there are worse things than being pestered about getting married already, and that is NOT being pestered about it. :D But then, seeing how happy my cousin was, albeit a bit tired, I hardly cared. This is probably the first wedding I enjoyed thoroughly. If only because I wasn't part of the entourage or the program. Don't get me wrong, I like doing those for my friends. But it just makes me a tad too nervous to really appreciate the moment. It's hard to think, "aw shucks, look at the groom he's tearing up," without thinking, "oh dang, the next speaker is a bit lush already," or "god, what's the next line again?" Hazel married a Baguio army man, and the celebrations included true-to-goodness Igor

I just woke up from a dream where I was hugging my father about to ask them why they left us alone and how the house was so empty without them, when I was jolted awake by the pure horror that that's still my life, and my first lucid thought was "go back to the dream" and i can't. then the first wave of nausea hits me and I run to the bathroom and be sick. I'm not stupid, I know I get more sick as the holidays draw near. I know what it implies. I'm sorry to everyone who I'm disappointing out there; I try, and I'll keep trying, but for now, the brain is willing but the heart is still sick.

Just finished reading Julie/Julia upon the recommendation of a workmate. I was already reading two books (her Fearful Symmetry and Flood) but was so taken in by Julie Powell’s melo-hysterics which sounded vaguely familiar, I had to put the first 2 down and finish the latter. . Julie’s representation of her “project” was so accessible that you feel like you’re reading your best friend’s cooking diary (if you move in the kind of circles that has people who actually keep cooking diaries). She’s no Nigella Lawson or Barefoot Contessa and definitely no Julia Child, and that’s why I like her. You don’t start feeling inept at the mention of words like aspic or gelee, because she’d be the first to say she doesn’t have a f***** idea what those are. She gets queasy about killing lobsters, have trouble recognizing what kidneys look like, bitches at her husband, snarks at her Mum… your over-all Anti-Domestic Goddess at work. And I love her. . But in the middle of the foggy haze that is her life,

The worst injustice in the world is the fact that Power and Intelligence aren't inextricably linked. Some people have the smarts (let's say the textbook kind) but doesn't have what it takes to be powerful (money, chika attitude, connections, people smart). Some are in powerful positions, but are as clueless as my neighbour's pet gerbil. I can accept both kinds of smart, but could people at least have some more logic? This morning, a member company asked us to make a training module for a one-day training for high school students on Environmental Awareness, Global Warming, Public Speaking and Written Expressions. Nanghihinayang lang ako kasi all four topics are great topics and sayang kung i-mash sa iisang araw. At the very least choose a focus diba? Of course I can find a way to make it work. Discuss Global Warming, ask them to write an Essay and have them deliver it as a speech. Ang problema ko, nobody pays attention to the process of creation anymore. The learning pro

The last 4 days have been loaded. The last 4 nights, I have overstuffed myself. I have 4 new books all of which I haven't touched yet. I have 4 ugly pimples on my face. I have 4 hours before midnight. 4 thousand in my bank account and I haven't bought groceries for the next 2 weeks yet. Let'sjust say, 4 is a bad number today. Hay. Let's just cool it and stare at this: Argh. 7 years younger than me. Kainis. At least 7 naman.

I think I have a girl crush on Leighton Meester. Everytime I see pictures of her, I sigh. So it's either a girl-crush or it's-hopeless-you're-never-gonna-look-like-that-envy. An I don't even care if somebody leaked a supposed sex tape. That's like so Paris Hilton (read: an era ago). I just like looking at her. I'm not gunning to be just like her after all. As if I could. Here we go again: sigh.

It's strange, when people try to encourage you to write by writing what you know. Always had a problem with that. I was never sure if I know enough about anything to write about it. Once, when I was younger, a friend dared me to write a love scene. One with actual kissing and, uhm, groping, and stuff. Risque, especially if you were fourteen years old and educated in an all-girls private school since kindergarten. All the love scenes I know were culled from Judith McNaught novels and Johanna Lindsey prototypes of wham-bam-thank-you-mam. All I know is I hated those love scenes because it always felt impersonal, not to mention overtly romanticized. So when I wrote my story, I ended up with a scenario that put together these elements in some haphazard manner: depressed guy, concerned girl, lots of facial hair (on the guy, of course), a razor blade, soap and the girl's warm hands shaving off the gunk off his face (and no, they didn't get freaky). My friend thought it was superbl

I stayed up until 2 am last night finishing my draft for another short story. The point of all this hard work isn't just because NaNoWriMo is coming. I also plan to compile the stories and give them to special people come Christmas time. I can already see it: professionally bound (read Blessings:UP Shopping Center)dark blue booklet with the compilation's title (still haven't decided which one will get star billing)embossed in starry silver. It would look like my NatSci1 readings all over again... Haha! So you see, the reason for my stellar mood today is not only because I'm writing again, but also because Christmas is near. Although, I did consider that giving a compilation of stuff I wrote might not be the best Christmas gift. I mean, it's one part parusa, and one part narcissistic, and two parts cheapskate. But I'm only giving it to friends who appreciate the fact that I love to write, or knows I'm quirky enough to give it to them not because I want them t

Don't read this if you're a government-lubbing sucker. I have pure hatred for LGU officials. They are one-track mind puffins who likes to speak in Me-Great-Me-Wonderful language. Never once with those I have had the bad luck to work with have the mental capacity to open their minds. It's always I-know-best, I-am-superman, and I hope they could eat shit so they'd know what we have to deal with. Okay, okay, so they're not ALL bad. I mean, for goodness sake, my sister works for a Senator. But the majority of them has this addictive need to praise themselves. And if they know that they were lacking, they act defensively by accusing the ineffectivity of other officials. Cannibals, those animals. Wait no, that's a great injustice to animals, and cannibals themselves. They're the dirt of the scum. They're the lowliest because they seek to be the highest. And they all pretend! In a training yesterday, we had the "honour" of having the heads of departme

This wall --- Fortified with gumption And a thousand resolutions That I will never Simply ever Fall for you. This line --- Drawn by hand Etched fleetingly on sand Is the boundary I will never Cross for you. This stop --- Is one of the infinite ways I turn my head away When you pass I will never look at you. But, frustratingly When you hold my hand And tuck my hair Behind a blushing ear And my lips turn up into a smile Which I never meant to give… The wall crumbles The line blurs The stop ends And the world drowns In the thunderous pounding Of this traitorous heart.

“Judge a person by their questions, rather than their answers.” Voltaire. Good, hell, good. ‘Cos I sure don’t know any answers this point in my life. I know I pretend I do, a lot. But the awful truth is, most of what I know are liquid as of yet. So if asking questions is the start to finding answers, I’ll take that challenge head on. My first question is this: How much of childhood dreams should you hold on to? When do you give up? How do you know if you love what you do and you’re doing what you love? How does “real interest in people” look like? How long will people call you “promising” before they switch to “late-starter” and then finally, “failure?” I call myself a people-person, but how can I be good with them if I actually don’t like people very much? Much discussed as it is in books and movies, I still can’t imagine how people could fall in love, I mean, for real. How does one subsume oneself, how do you make space? How can you measure a life lived fully? How do I fit into God’s

Not so long ago, I watched an episode from Season 5 of House where a blind girl who had eye transplant hated what she saw of the world because when she finally could see, she realized the world wasn't pretty. And in the end, House figured out that there's tissue formations in her brain that is like cancer but not cancer and does not know how to function yet. So all she needed as treatment was brain surgery and not cancer treatment. Afterwards, without the mass in her brain, she could see the world as it really is. Amazing. I'm sure the chances of that happening is like 1 in 1 million. But what if, you were someone born centuries ago with the same affliction: you cannot see beauty in the world. And to others, you were just evil, a monster, because surely, you have not inherited the better part of angels. To see the world as perpetually ugly, an affliction of a devil-child, surely? It will definitely be a wild ride, since the inceptor of House wasn't even born yet. :D Gea

I read Gabe a short contemporized British folk tale about tiny monsters called Hobyas which eats --- well, many things. The story goes like this: There was once a farmer, his wife and his daughter who lived in a house of turnips. They also have a loyal dog which keeps watch over the little farmhouse. One night, while all was asleep, the Hobyas came to the house and decided to eat the house, and to capture the little girl for eating later. But the dog heard them and he barked loudly. The hobyas scattered and ran away. The farmer though got irritated by the dog's barking. So the next day, he placed the dog inside a turnip basket. That night, the Hobyas came back, but the dog jumped from the basket and barked again. The Hobyas ran and the farmer got angry again. The next night, he placed the dog in the basket and tied it up and locked it(This was written before PETA, obviously). When the Hobyas came back, no dog scared them away this time so they managed to eat the house and take the

Book in Hand: Grendel by John Gardner Song in Mind: "Somebody once told me the world was gonna blow me cos I ain't the sharpest tool in the shed...." I do. Unabashedly. I'm one of those 5'8" tall kiddos you find browsing through the Young Adult (YA) fiction aisles in Powerbooks. I admit I get self-conscious sometimes, bumping unto a 6th grader or so while skimming for titles. Once, a rich-kid midget (you know, those brave, extroverted, English-speaking ones) even asked me if I have some book in stock, clearly mistaking me for a salesperson. I bravely told the boy I'm not a salesgirl, but I would help him find one. He ended up asking me which book I would recommend for a twelve-year-old like him, though I think he isn't one hour above 10. And there I was hoping I could pass for 19 years old. After that incident, I decided to let myself out of the closet. So I enjoy YA Lit. So be it. Besides, my height gives me relative advantage over the other customer

Book in Hand: Turncoat by Jim Butcher Song in Mind: Come Closer by Rico Blanco (Awoooooo... what you do to me...) If you’re twenty-something like me, and feeling a little lost like me, and maybe just a tad bit paranoid like me… you would have noticed that without meaning to, you’re starting to sound like your parents. Honestly, I thought it wouldn’t start until I was well into marriage with a kid of my own who I’d have to stay vigilant against grime, mayonnaise and boo-boos for. But the voices in my head, although undeniably mine, sounds like something I have heard before. Be it my father’s mantra about carelessness: “Ay, na lang ba ang kapalit?” to my mother’s colorful description of people such as “naka-isputing at namumukadkad ang kulay ng karsunsilyo” --- I find myself repeating their pet expressions even if I could handily and more fashionably replace it with OMGs and That’s Hot. It could be that I’ve advanced to this stage because they both are not with me anymore, and I find som

My Lakbayan grade is B-! How much of the Philippines have you visited? Find out at Lakbayan ! Created by Eugene Villar .

If I could have any superpower, I always wanted it to be one of these: 1) teleportation, 2) super brain, or 3) flight. But I remember once, while playing with Gabe, I asked him what superpowers he would like to have, he said, "I want to fly!" then changed it to "I want to be able to eat everything!" after which I asked him the wisdom of that. Then he finally said, "Okay, I want to love everyone." When I asked why, he said, "because it's hard to play with them if I don't." Imagine that, my imagination was trumped by a 5-year-old kid. Love is a SUPERPOWER, isn't it? It surprises me what the very young can teach us if we just try to listen.

*from Post Secret : www.postsecret.blogspot.com After 3 years, I still text him. After 2 years and then some, I still expect her to pick up the phone when I call home.

Take Action against rape simulator gamesand the normalization of sexual violence in Japan 5/6/2009 Equality Now has just issued "Women’s Action 33.1 Japan: Rape simulator games and the normalization of sexual violence". The Action focuses on the rape simulator game RapeLay, which is produced and sold in Japan, including through Amazon Japan. The aim of RapeLay is for the player to manipulate the game in order to simulate raping a woman and her two school-aged daughters, one of whom appears to be a young child. Equality Now is calling for the withdrawal from sale in Japan of all games that involve rape, stalking or other forms of sexual violence against women and girls. The Action also urges the Japanese government to take effective measures to overcome negative stereotypical sex-discriminatory attitudes and practices that hinder women’s equality. -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

I know, I know. Watching 17 Again is like, so gay or grade-school-ish. But aaawwww, I love zac efron, gay hair and all! He just makes me melt. And I don't mind if the whole world calls me a "cougar" as long as he's my cub. Or Chace Crawford. Although, they do look like they may have been split from the same string bean. Oh, what? You mean what was the movie all about? Ehrm... something about this 37-year-old guy who got his life so wrong, and was given another chance to re-live his last year in high school to make things right again. There was talk of spirit guides and the right path, or something. Don't get me wrong. There's a good message in that movie, though I think some people would be put off with the swirling vortexes and fantasy-mode of the whole thing. Me, I suspended all disbelief of course. I wasn't there to watch a good story. I went for eye-candy. Actually, I think a lot of people did. On the same row as I am, were a bunch of gay high school k

Pudgy young boy Andrew Johnston sings Pie Jesu and managed to sound like an angel singing. Marmy Susan Boyle courts mockery but pulls the rug from underneath our feet instead with her rendition of I dreamed a Dream. George Sampson pulls Singing in the Rain and I bet even Justin Timberlake wouldn’t have anything on this un’s moves. Don’t even let me get started on Paul Potts, Connie Talbot and Charlie Green. Gosh. Maybe, Britain’s Got more Talent than just stiffening the upper lip! Amazing. I love BGT!

I am going to say sorry in advance for the extreme geekiness of the forthcoming post. I read in the news this morning that scientists found an earth-like planet (Gliese 581 e) somewhere in the Libran constellation. It is the right size, although it is too near the sun-like star and most likely to be too hot to support life. But what caught my fascination is its neighboring planet, Gliese 581 d, which is larger but is in the habitable zone. Its distance from the star it orbits is just far enough for liquid to be water. Scientists even said that it is plausible that this planet has a big and deep ocean, and stating that it is the first serious candidate for a true-to-life water-world. ~ Now, the movie Waterworld sucked with a capital Y. But imagine! Just let those fantastic brain cells do the Imagineering for you! ~ If Earth finally reaches its last perilous leg, off-planet habitation may become a reality. Of course, we won’t see it in our life time. But maybe in the future, our kid’s

A praise song I heard today spoke of this. :D -=-=-=- Love: deeper hope higher trust stronger faith and greater peace. Live Love.

When I fantasize about living large, I suppose I'm like most everyone else who initially thinks of large sums of personal money, fast cars, houses, exclusive vacation get-aways, etc. But come to think of it, I don't have it so bad right now. It's not perfect, but the simple life makes me want simple things. Due to its simplicity, its easier to reach --- it's easier to be happy. Let's take a chunk out of history and catalogue today's simple blessings I enjoyed: 1. Aimless meanderings around the neighborhood - I don't live in an exclusive subdivision, but our area is as sub-urban as only I would like it. We still have trees here, and grass as tall as people, and even goats walking down the road with you. And because of it's "probinsiya-feel", everything is calm and laid-back. 2. Sitting still in the garden - I got a chance to sit awhile after my walk, and heard a cacophony of birds singing in our treetops. How often do you get serenaded by nature

A couple of days ago, Ella asked me if I consider myself religious. Well, I had to be honest, right? I don't think I am. If religion is an unerring love for verbalized prayer, consistent rituals, and spouting off the name of a saint a minute. No, not like that. Faith to me is living life and appreciating that everyday is an experience of faith. I pray, I go to Church, I honor rituals, I share, I care, or to sum it up, try to be the good Christian girl my parents raised me up to be. But I don't pray the rosary every day, I even forget the 3 o'clock prayer and the Angelus a lot. I know I can improve my faith by observing them, but I keep forgetting. Do I feel like God is angry at me for forgetting these things though? No. Because when I pray, I don't use formulae prayers. When I pray, I speak my heart, I talk to God as I would a father. And I think my faith is enriched because of it. I like to think that God is a little like my own father, who enjoys listening to my stori

I haven't blogged in two weeks, and don't I know it! Nothing of the Caramoan trip, of Holy Week, of recent developments amongst friendships almost lost and recovered. I owe this blog a lot of updates; maybe I'll get around to it in a while. Today though,I woke up with the urge to write a song about a recent sad story I heard. It's deliberately not a poem; I imagine it having some kind of slow RnB beat to it. Something Jordin Sparks would sing. Kahit ka-cornihan minsan, pero I tried to use the simplest words kasi. Maiba naman sa usual kong drama. Tina, if you're reading this, maybe you can forward it to your musician friend and ask if he'd deem it worthwhile to arrange. :) :D At tsaka, by the way, hindi ko pa naririnig yung arrangement nya dun sa isa ko pang song. Parinig naman! Wala lang. Para masaya. :D -=-=-=-=-= Harder Standing By I did not know Saying I’m sorry I have to go Or, baby, this is goodbye Is easier than standing by As you give her your heart As y

I know, I know. The last season of the Gilmore Girls has come and gone. But I lost touch for a while there, and I never really got to see the whole of Season 7. For those of you who’ve been reading my blog since 2004, you would know how insane I was for the show. I adored Lorelei and Rory, and have always imagined myself as the third Gilmore Girl. I even tried to guzzle up coffee because I figured their caffeine-soaked tizziness is the reason why they’re so witty and snarky and gorgeous. It was one of the more intelligent TV shows in its time, and I loved everything about the show. I went through all of the girls’ phases --- Rory’s Dean and Jess ( who I wanted for my own) and that guy who’s now on OC and Marty and finally, hunky Logan, as well as Lorelei’s Christopher, Rory’s English Teacher guy, Luke and Christopher again til she ended with Luke again. Truth be told, I’m coming from Team Christopher. I mean, Luke’s nice and all, and it ain’t bad to marry the guy who makes the greatest

Everybody thought Fight Club was pretty down, right? Chuck Palahniuk has got to be one of the most irreverent contemporary writers I have encountered. He makes me laugh, albeit uncomfortably. You know, like when you find yourself laughing while his characters make a**es of themselves? You shouldn't laugh, but like an itch you can't scratch, everything is futile. Choke is a funny book. Not as great as Fight Club, but y'know, amusing. The story is about Victor who pretends to choke as a part-time job. I think I made a review about the book already. Interestingly, it is now on film with Sam Rockwell in the lead role. I know I should be bored with most of it, but Sam Rockwell is good. He makes the unlikeable character actually like-able. Score that one point down for the anti-hero. I don't remember laughing out loud during the film, there were parts which were quite explicit and crude. But it was really more of the tongue-in-cheek humor variety. But Victor wasn't meant

I don't have any pretensions that I'm teaching an all-mighty subject; I have no disillusions about how important I am to be facilitating CWTS. I KNOW that most, if not all students who take the subject are just choosing it because they think it's marginally less evil than ROTC, though both are seen as unnecessary, a waste of time and effort. It's just a roadblock, a minor discomfort to ensure they will graduate on time. I have been teaching for almost 5 years now, and I am so close to giving up on it because it seems every year, the students get worse. This year I had to flunk 3 kids. Oh, now, make it 2. One of them doubled efforts and was given another chance. But I really think it's the height of irresponsibility to flunk something like CWTS. It is not part of your calculated grade, but you will still be rendered an irregular student for flunking out. And what i can't figure out is, even if they are forced to take CWTS, why can't they just put their hearts

I swear, if I hear the word Herbalife one more time I will scream and start cutting people’s heads off. Okay, maybe… more realistically, I’ll just change the topic. But I am friggin’ fed up with people who talk non-stop about it. In the office, all I hear is, “diet ako eh” or “pahingi ako pills” or “shake lang ako ngayon eh.” What’s worse is, some people are so FIXATED about it that no matter what manner conversation you try to hold, it always somewhat veers towards dieting. I’m all for other people’s healthy living, but not to the point of infringement on my own psychological health. For once, I’d just like to have a healthy conversation inside the office, not necessarily about work, but something a little more substantial than the treacle-y stuff they drink to replace actual healthy eating. Everybody’s starting to sound like the therapists of the Bergdorf Blondes and Fabio. It’s all fabulous, and all, but it’s really getting to be such a bore.

From out of nowhere, I stumbled upon Luivico (yes, not Ludovico) and Alissa and Pater Silvestri. Who are they? All I know is Lui is a boy who cannot see beauty, Alissa is a child feared to be fae-touched, and Pater Silvestri is the Superiore of the Monasterio of San Fabrizo. Don't you get it yet? It's a story! While trying to amuse myself by typing whatever, I stumbled on a tale (all puns intended!). I hope I get to the end. Wish me luck!

I know the world is a much harsher place than my cosseted upbringing allowed me to understand. But I can’t help but wonder if I wasn’t mollycoddled, would I have been led to walk thornier paths as a teenager? Point in case, the 3 teenage girls who I encountered during a jeepney ride to the supermarket this morning. The first one looked about 15 years old and she was wearing an ensemble that Madonna during her younger years would have envied. A green spaghetti strap mini-dress which flutters dangerously close to revealing what color undies she was wearing with the steady whipping air that was buffeting the interior of the jeep. The dress also had rhinestones set around the neckline so low, barely covering her generous breasts out of place with her reed thin body. The full bust would have disconcerted me if it wasn’t painfully obvious that the girl was also around 6 months pregnant. A few yards from where she hailed the jeep, another 2 teenagers of the same age (one was wearing ridiculou

Today, I caught myself laughing too hard and acting too silly. I know I laugh and am silly most of the time, but my recent actions feel too... incongruent with how I feel at the moment. Laughter ought to come from deep in the belly, I remember the feeling. But the one this afternoon was just like coming from a tin can. So instead of jolly, it sounded closer to hilarity. And I tried and tried to dissect what the freck is wrong with me AGAIN, and I realized it was a survival instinct brought about by one comment from a supposed really good friend. He told me he was avoiding me because he was avoiding drama, and he's got some of his own at that time. It really pissed me off good. And to think I was already tampo because he chose to share his problems with, it seems, everyone else but me. Well, at least now I know the adage "Sorrows divided" won't work with him. If he didn't think I could listen, and he thought I'd be a further damper, then what's the use of f

THE WAY-TO-GO LIST: Danny Gokey No surprises here. Geeky-looking guy who can sing his soul out? I’ve always been a sucker for it. And given the fact that he’s probably operating on grief as he just lost his wife last month gives him an aww-shucks thing going for him. So sue me. I like this guy. He can sing. He had me when I heard him belting out “Kiss from a Rose” a capella style and really doing it well. My jaw literally fell. He probably won’t win (though I hope he does), but he’s good nonetheless. Lil Rounds This girl ain’t Fantasia, but she has them big pipes to belt music out. I just hope she wouldn’t try to be Fantasia, because that’ll be her death toll ringing. Adam Lambert Judge Kara probably hit the nail right on the head when she said Adam’s performance is strange. He IS weird. But I think that’s what he has got going for him. Nobody can compare him to anybody else because he’s always raring to be original. And listen to his voice. When he reached the high notes on that Garth

. On a night out with my girl friends, the topic ostensibly and quite unavoidably steered towards lost loves and almost fairytale stories. I was a little dense that day and I just regained my orientation right smack in the middle of M’s diatribe about how stupid it is to cry about boys. I really have no idea what the premise was; I was busy thinking if I should order the four cheese risotto at Marciano’s. But as it happened, she was looking at my side of the table, although I’m sure the question was aimed at the group. Maybe, I was just guilty and felt like she was asking Me. . Well, first, let’s define crying. Crying is a steady flow of tears as opposed to just Tearing Up where your eyes get watery but only a few tears actually fall. Crying though, is much sober than Weeping where you cry and you moan. Rant though is a whole new level of moaning and flailing and tearing hair and banging head against walls. I can safely say, I never ranted about boys and probably never will. But I’ve d

You know what I hate most? Getting all riled up. I hate competitive sports. I hate contests. Because I'm not good with losing. I don't join any contests I am not sure I have a good chance of winning. So I always win. My attitude takes the flavor away some though. But you'd never know that if you read my conquests on paper. It reads like win to yet another win. But its just really a cowards' conquest list because I just won things I already knew I'll win. But in fairness, if you look at it another way, it's like I choose my battles wisely. I do not enter anything I am not ready for. I do work for my achievements, but just not so much as I would if I was not so selective. Yeah, its true, I appear jolly and nice, most of the time. I think its a self-preservation trick because it hides a temper that can mutilate and searing competition brings it out. Seriously. That's why I had such a short career in debating. I got to be captain of our high school debate team,

Dearest Kris, I know who killed your father. Just as commonly believed, they were soldiers, following the edict of a powerful general in cohorts with the Marcoses. But the actual triggerman was never jailed. He was in too deep with a high-ranking official, and those the president freed yesterday were just fall guys. I don't know if it will help you any. But the triggerman, last I heard has died already. He lived a sad, violent life and had it worse than whatever jail had in store for him originally. God takes care of His own, and he has exacted vengeance for you and your family already. I hope you try to be at peace.

Whew! Watching the film felt like an ordeal. Its like going to the dentist and being shown the thousand and one apparatus one can use to inflict pain. I found myself thanking God I haven't fallen in love that bad yet, not enough to drive me insane or scar me for life. Between Vicky and Christina, I relate better to Vicky (played by Rebecca Hall) because of her traditional, safe views. I think that's how I view how love's supposed to go as well. But the real characters to watch out for in the film would be Christina (Scarlett Johansson) and Maria Elena (Penelope Cruz). They go insane as insane can go. And the funny thing is, you don't think they're whacked out while they're doing it. Honestly, mas nairita ako with Vicky. Her delusions with Juan something (played by Javier Bardem) is just irrirtating. I mean, I commsierate with her, but, its clear the thing with Juan-what's-his-name isn't going anywhere. she's just too scared. I would know. I WOULD BE

A lot of people I know hate waiting. I hate waiting too, usually. I can get very impatient for the slow service behind the McDonald’s counter, or the fruit guy in the supermarket who takes forever to weigh your three pieces of mangoes. But when forced to do it, I often do something to occupy my time. This morning is a good example. I did some grocery shopping and was waiting for my sister to finish her workout in the gym. I haven’t paid my membership yet so I dare not show my face there; I decided to buy an inexpensive second hand book and wait on one of the benches littering the mall. Ikaw ba? What do you think of those people who actually sit around in mall benches? Ako, I always have had a serious mistrust of them. I am aware that they could be husbands waiting for their wives to finish their retail therapy (and a lot of them are), or aged people who needs to sit down every five steps or so. But my perception is that, they are often abused by holduppers and snatchers who sit there a

It's high noon, I'm working at home and I just found I needed a break. I'm working on a draft of a would-be booklet for a program I have little... I want to say love, but it might be more accurate to say, i have little appreciation of instead. So I blog for a while, hoping I will find inspiration in movement of thought and fingers. The momentary silence just makes me appreciate how silent my neighbourhood is. You can't expect to hear this sounds in the big city. Sabi nga nila, only in the suburbs. This is what I hear: The postman's motorbike just passed and stopped in front of our neighbour's house, two lots away. He's calling out "Tao Po, sulat!" and was answered by a loud, "Para kanino?" You see there are 2 families living in that sprawling lot, relatives but with different surnames. A dog padded by. Seriously. You can hear the "tik, tik, tik" of its steps as it made its way down our street. I hear roosters crowing for noon.