Monday, June 29, 2009
So far, it's okay. But I'm not getting the whole picture about how much of a genius he is. I do find the quotes I receive witty, but I haven't found any in ABNKKBSNPLAKo?! Maybe they're in other books? This is my first taste so I don't know.
I find Jessica Zafra funnier. Maybe it's her jaded and dark sense of humor that gets me, but I still haven't lost hope on Bob Ong. Hundreds of people can't be wrong, right?
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
When I got my cigarette, I was about to sit down when two guys called me. They weren't really guys, they were gay. Crossdressers. They asked for a light and when I offered my cigarette, they asked me to sit down and join them. Not fast enough to think of an excuse or run, I sat. I don't have a problem with crossdressers but I'm wary of strangers asking me to sit down with them in the middle of the night and "talk".
I must say they were really nice. They even thought I was straight but when they found out I wasn't, the more aggressive one kept making moves. Apparently, discretion wasn't part of his vocabulary because he kept trying to hold my hand and linking his arm with mine even when I explicitly told him about V. He did ask me subtly if I wanted to get it on but I played dumb and pretended I didn't know what he was talking about. I actually liked the other one better because he was more intellectual and wasn't as "pervasive" as the one that dominated the conversation. Again, my inability to make excuses or run surfaced when they asked for my number. I did give it but I changed a few digits. Luckily, I left my phone so they won't be able to verify it. When I left (they were gracious enough to ask me if I wanted to go already), I made sure they weren't following.
Of course, nothing would result from what happened but it was nice to know that I still have market value and that I could be appreciated. My mood started to lift just as the rain started to pour.
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
Okay, I think the real issue at hand is my return to Blogger. I know I've said stuff about the "grass being greener on the other side" but I realized that Blogger is better than the host I tried. It did have its perks like a more organized layout, detailed stats, and a community of bloggers in the dashboard but it did have its letdowns like the CSS. I'm a detail freak so it bothered me a lot that the themes were pretty limited and there weren't any that I really liked. Most of the themes had fixed widths which really didn't maximize space. Entries are just in the middle while a lot of space is wasted on the sides. There were custom widths but they weren't easy on the eyes. You can edit your CSS, but you can only save it if you upgrade your account.
Another thing that bothered me was its inability to display third party gadgets such as shoutboxes. Shoutboxes are an integral part to my blog because this is where readers can say how they appreciate my blog. Comments can be made but only to entries, not to the entire site. I signed up for many shoutbox sites but they all couldn't be displayed. I also saw a lot of cool widgets online but they couldn't be displayed too.
In Blogger everything is possible. I can edit the layout as much as I want to (for free) and post all kinds of widgets. I don't have the detailed stats (another favorite of mine in my other blog) but I got a third party counter that updates me with visits. Everything I'll miss in the other host I replaced with widgets.
The other night while I was trying to sleep, I was debating whether I should just stick to the host or return to Blogger. Thinking about it, there were only a few setbacks, but it mattered. I know a lot of loyal readers would be pissed that I'll be changing links again and they have to remember a new address but I feel that this is what I really want. I feel that I'll be compromising myself if I gave up some of my favorite parts in blogging which will annoy me everytime I log in to that account. I guess I needed to try another host to see how amazing Blogger really is.
So again, I'm sorry. Here I am, babbling about change and using old-school one-liners to convince you to keep following me. I hope you won't get tired. I still have a lot to write about.
Sunday, June 21, 2009
I’m in a memoir mood so the next book I’m going to read is Smashed: Growing Up A Drunk Girl by Koren Zailckas. One of the blurbs inside says: For any woman who has ever drunk too much, there will be more than one note in this compelling memoir that rings an all-too-recognisable and uncomfortable tone. Excited for those parts where I’ll be like, yeah, I know that feeling very well. The book looks really promising so I can’t wait to get started.
I have tons of homework due this week but I’ve only finished one. I was supposed to do them today but I got carried away playing Word Challenge on Facebook. I now have the vocabulary of a salesman. I’m not in the mood to wade through sites and read stuff about hypotheses and experiment plans so I promised myself I’ll do them tomorrow. I’ll be reconnecting with my love for alcohol tonight with Zailckas. Wondered if she ever had a relapse.
Saturday, June 20, 2009
Hitler once said that he was immortal. Could it be true that divine intervention was at hand to keep him alive despite underhanded tactics? Watching the documentary, I started believing that there must be some force that kept him from getting killed. If you watched the show, you would have believed too.
The attempts varied from assassination by gunshot to female spies, exploding pens, and plots concocted by entire countries. England planned one attempt and backed out for fear of backlashes, but the Soviet tried to pull off three. One failed attempt that creeped me out was when a man planted a timed bomb at a building where Hitler will talk to important Nazi members. The bomb, set to go off at 9.20 pm, was planted at the back of the podium directly behind Hitler. He was scheduled to speak at 9 so it was expected that the bomb would go off in the middle of the speech. However, Hitler arrived at 8 and began early. This would have been fine if he carried on with his usual three-hour tirades. But no, 13 minutes before the bomb was about to go off, he finished and left the building. 60 men were injured and 4 were killed.
Another attempt was when Hilter was in a meeting discussing tactics. One of Hitler’s own men thought it would be clever to bring a suitcase with a bomb in it. It was never discovered and it did explode, but Hitler only had minor injuries while four were sent to the hospital.
The most shocking of the attempts was when a general decided to plant a bomb on a plane Hitler was on. I thought, this couldn’t fail. Hitler would be a thousand miles up in the sky with nowhere to run. The general put the bomb in a box and presented it as brandy. When the plane took off, they were surprised when the bomb didn’t explode. Later on, they found out it was a dud. It didn’t detonate. See? Hitler even survived inside jobs.
42 attempts, man. 42. It covered almost every way and circumstance imaginable and yet he survived to kill millions of Jews. Tell me that that isn’t divine intervention. He must really be the Antichrist. The biggest irony? He killed himself.
Friday, June 19, 2009
On Mondays and Thursdays, I have Society & Culture with Family Planning, a subject that I don’t really need but must take to pass the course. I don’t know the professor well but I interviewed her once for an article I was writing. Well-spoken lady. I took Sociology & Anthropology in UST and because they’re using the same book, I’m expecting this to be a breeze. I also have Educational Psychology, a preparation for our internship in the Educational field. In short, Guidance counseling. Frankly, I’m not excited for the subject. I have a high respect for Guidance counselors (the ones I’ve met are darling) but it’s not for me. Fortunately the professor didn’t show up so I just had the class fill up an attendance sheet.
On Tuesdays and Fridays I only have one subject but so far it’s the best. The professor’s young and I like her because her class is very interactive. She encourages students to think and comes up with challenging questions making the annoying schedule of 6-7.30 pm more tolerable. She refers to her method as a group discussion where students throw in ideas and discuss it. I like to think that I play a pivotal role in that class because I keep track of everybody’s grade in recitation. One of the perks of being class president!
Wednesday is my heaviest day because I have three subjects. My first class is PE, and I’m hoping to pass it so I could finally finish the course. It took me four years and I don’t have any plans of extending it to five. We didn’t have class on the first day because the students were required to attend the interment of Ruby Rose Barrameda, the alumna who was locked inside a drum and thrown out into the sea by the father-in-law. I have a three hour break which I’m hoping to allot for the paper. After that is my Experimental Psychology class taught by the head of Alumni Affairs, a jolly man I’ve known for years because of my involvement with the paper. The paper shares an office with him, the Student Affairs, the Prefect of Discipline, and the Supreme Student Council so we’re tight. In our Industrial Psychology class, there was conflict with our schedule because the professor wasn’t available at the assigned slot. It was proposed we meet every Thursday at 6, but I’ve set Thursdays for someone. Luckily, the rest of the class didn’t like the new schedule so I talked to the head of HR (who was also the assigned professor) and we agreed to look for a new teacher.
So far I’m swamped with paperwork but it looks like it’s going to be a great sem. I have a fantastic schedule, great teachers, and a really hot bag I traded with our chief photographer. It’s time to have a life again. And allowance.
P.S. I’m still glowing. I went on a date with V last night and we had a great time. We had dinner and coffee at Mall of Asia and zomg. I’m still creaming.
Monday, June 15, 2009
Yesterday, I made my once-a-month foray into heavy commuting when I was invited to the christening of Eunice’s baby, Myllie. Eunice is one of my closest friends from UST and I was a godfather so I was expected to come. It was also a chance to see friends I haven’t seen since I left UST. It was a very long day made longer by my route. In all, I had to get through four malls and endure seven rides to get to Quezon City and back.
I thanked my lucky stars I only have to do this once a month. Along with my experience last night, below are the 12 most memorable events (and etc.) in my commuting history:
12. I’ve had my fair share of embarrassing moments while I was commuting such as falling off the back seat of a trycyle. I got on, and while I was settling myself, the driver revved his engine and I fell off like a pineapple in a fruit stand. It was tres mortifying because there were people and a car who stopped to enjoy my public humiliation.
Another embarrassing moment was when I was on my way home from a date. It was bad enough that my date sucked, but it got worse when my ride left me behind. It was a van and I was seated beside the door so I thought it was one of those vehicles where I had to go down first so the people behind me could leave. One of the passengers had reached his stop and because I didn’t know there was enough space to go down without me moving, I got off. I got the shock of my life when someone closed the door and the van started to leave. The worst thing was, I tried opening the door and telling the driver this wasn’t my stop. When I got back on, I could hear snickers from the back. I could have pretended it was my stop and get another ride but no, I had to humiliate myself.
11. I consider Jack, Jose, Miguel and Jim to be my best friends so seeing me drunk is not unusual. What’s unusual is my ability to commute home when I’m hammered. I don’t always take cabs (I’m a cheapskate, so sue me), so getting home in one piece with all my belongings is something. I take cabs when I get rat-faced in a club or somewhere far but when I’m nearby, I take the friendly neighborhood jeep and trycyle. Once, when I passed out in the handicapped restroom in ATC, I managed to get home alive. I don’t remember how, but I’m here to tell the tale and that’s all that matters.
10. I started commuting full-time when I entered college. An uncle taught me to get a ride to Baclaran and from there a jeep to Dapitan, the street behind UST. I detested it because I’m prone to sweating and jeeps aren’t exactly cold when you’re riding for a good half hour. I would usually arrive in school with messed-up hair and sweating my ass off. I also got lost on a couple of occasions, arriving in places like Recto (I think) and the actual Baclaran market. One day, while I was on a bus to Baclaran, a girl from UST sat next to me. Back then, I didn’t think getting on the same bus with a co-Thomasian was usual so I struck a conversation. Things led to another until she found out my route to school. She laughed, gave me a pat on my arm and taught me the proper way of commuting. I didn’t know that Lawton (I had no idea what a Lawton was in those days), the last stop of the bus, was five to ten minutes away from school. A very nice person, that Genny. I never had an uncomfortable trip to school since then.
9. I keep getting compliments about my height and if I could have a peso for every time someone said they wished they, or their son were as tall as me, I would be filthy stinking rich. It pays to be tall when you’re on a crowded train because your head’s above everyone else’s and not in between people’s underarms. I’ve never been acquainted with Mr. Stinky Underarms but things are different on jeeps, buses, and trycycles. Sometimes vehicles are so low that I have to crouch to fit, and it’s very uncomfortable. Somes buses have seats so close that I get cramps.
8. One of the best things about commuting is when you’re with your partner. My boyfriend and I would always hold hands (discreetly of course) when we’re on a bus and it’s surprisingly relaxing. I even got into some action a couple of times. The most outrageous thing I’ve done (and I’m not sure how I did this), was when I let an ex-boyfriend kiss me on the lips in the middle of Espana while he was waiting for me to get a ride.
7. One time, while I was making my monthly trip up north to meet my UST friends in Trinoma, things ran late when I noticed that the train was about to close. I wanted to pee (I had around eight glasses of iced tea during dinner and a huge latte from Starbucks) but I decided to hold it in until I got to Taft because the vans to Las Pinas were in the basement of a mall. Unfortunately, I missed the last train so I was forced to take a bus. I saw one right away so I got on. I didn’t want to stay long because I don’t want to risk getting held up or killed so I held my pee and waited till I got to Taft. The bus was going to Taft, but not EDSA Taft. It was going to Buendia, meaning it was going to Makati first. And boy did it take its time. It seemed to circle the entire city, stopping for minutes at a time to wait for passengers. I felt like my bladder was about to explode. I was tempted many times to go down and pee in one of the ubiquitous Starbucks but I was afraid that I if I go down, I won’t find any more buses and would have to take a cab. That’s how much of a cheapskate I am. So I was forced to wait in agony until I reached my destination. When I got down in Buendia, I peed at a gas station and stood over the urinal for a good five minutes. I kid you not.
6. The threat of rain is worse to a commuter because it’s harder to get a ride and you’re doomed if you don’t have an umbrella. While I was on my way home after lunch with a friend, I stood in the station waiting for the train. I was relieved that I finally got out of the rain, but when the train lurched to a stop, the water splashed all over me. And my linen pants.
My experience as a two-year Thomasian exposed me to the horrors of commuting during rainy season. I’ve only experienced the infamous flood one time when I was heading home and I was in an FX to Lawton. To this day, I still wonder how I got in the FX. What I will remember is the time when I got down, my entire leg got dipped in water.
5. I listen to my iPod during commutes because radios play baduy songs I can’t stand. One time, I noticed this really old lady staring at me while I was on a jeep to school. She was saying something so I lowered the volume so I could hear her. I got creeped out when I realized she was trying to pick a fight by saying something about the Japanese taking over the Philippines during the war. I then noticed the other passengers were looking at me too. Scared to do anything, I raised the volume and drowned her out.
4. When I was still getting the hang of commuting, I didn’t know that when a bus broke down, you can get on another one for free as long as it was under the same company. While I was on my way home from school, I experienced my first breakdown. It happened just before the tollgate along Coastal Road. Because I didn’t know it was for free, I panicked because I didn’t have extra money. I stood there freezing my nuts off (I was wearing my PE uniform) while the rest of the passengers got on other buses. I attempted to get a cab and have my mom pay for it but all the cabs were taken. It was a highway so an empty cab was pretty unlikely. I contemplated calling my mom to pick me up but it would be a hassle. It wasn’t only until I asked the conductor that I found out the ride was free. It took me a half hour.
3. A list of memorable events in commuting isn’t complete without stories of being robbed. I was fortunate enough never to have these kinds of experiences but I have close calls. I think. Two years ago, I was at Fashion Week and I was dressed nice. I even had a blazer on. I spent some money that night so I was shocked to discover that I barely had enough money to go home. I decided to take a cab to Baclaran and from there get a jeep. Like I said, I was dressed nice. When I got on the jeep, there were two other passengers with me, a guy and a girl. Just when we were about to leave, a group of not so nice looking men got in with us. I didn’t mind them at first but I kept my guard up when I noticed they were looking at each of the passengers. Especially me. I even thought it was going to be an inside job because I noticed them exchange looks with the driver and they didn’t pay their fare. At Zapote (the first stop in Las Pinas), the girl got down. The “goons” kept looking at me and the other passenger and when the other guy got down, my heart raced. When I heard one of the guys whisper, “o pano yan, isa nalang ang pasahero” (there’s only one passenger left), I freaked. I got down a stop early and almost passed out when one of the guys grabbed my arm while I was going down. Oh my gosh, I thought to myself, this is it, I’m about to die. The guy looks at me and says, “May sampung piso ka ba diyan?” (Do you have ten pesos?) I almost died of a heart attack.
Another time when I almost got robbed (or thought I was) was when I was on my way to to school. I got off a bus from Las Pinas and was waiting for a jeep that would take me to Dapitan. My phone hung from a strap around my neck and though I usually tuck it in my uniform when I commute, I forgot because a jeep arrived right away. When I got on, my phone swung around, a willing bait for snatchers. I quickly scanned the surroundings for evil looking people and noticed an old lady sitting next to me. She was kind of far so I didn’t worry. And then I saw a girl sitting across me looking at my phone. My phone then was the hot pink MotoRazr so I assumed she was just staring at the color. I caught her making signals to the lady next to me and out of the corner of my eye, I saw the lady staring and inching herself to me. The girl kept staring at my phone while her “cohort” was getting closer. I freaked out so I transferred seats.
2. Seeing hot guys. ‘Nuff said.
1. The best thing about commuting is the train. The MRT is a godsend. With it, I can go from Point A to Point B in record time. I can go to Quezon City in less than an hour as long as I get the train. It has its downs like multitudes of people squeezing themselves into a tiny compartment and the risk of losing your phone, but it’s fast, it’s cheap, and it’s accessible. Cubao, Quezon City, and Mandaluyong doesn’t seem so far now that I know how to use the MRT. And now that they’ve extended their hours till midnight, I’m one happy commuter.
Come to think of it, I’m glad I transferred to Perpetual, a trycyle ride away from where I live.
Monday, June 8, 2009
10. Elizabeth Taylor
The woman got married eight times. Can she get any more fascinating? She must really be charming to be proposed to by seven men (she married Richard Burton twice). She even married Nicky Hilton, son of the founder of the Hilton chain of hotels. Charming or not, Elizabeth Taylor is without a doubt one of the most beautiful people on earth, a feat considering she lived in a time when plastic surgeons didn’t even exist.
9. Samantha Ronson
Samantha Ronson is this 31 year old chick who looks like a 12 year old boy. She’s famous in the circuit for being one of the hottest DJs, but to the world, she’s Lindsay Lohan’s girlfriend. I intially thought it was Ronson who was going gaga for L.L., but I got the shock of my life when I found out it was Lindsay who was pursuing Sam. What did Sam feed to Lindsay to make her switch teams? Curious. My most memorable scene of the two was when Sam walked out of a club and Lindsay was running after her (in heels, no less!) yelling, “Samantha Ronson, why are you doing this to me?!”
8. Barbara Walters
Barbara Walters is the ultimate journalist. She has interviewed prime ministers, actors, presidents (every American one since Richard Nixon), athletes, and socialites. The inside cover of her tell-all book Audition: A Memoir has the list of names she has interviewed and let me tell you, the font was small and it took both the front and back cover. Some of her interviewees include: Margaret Thatcher, Fidel Castro, Indira Ghandi, Hugo Chavez, Michael Jackson, Greg Louganis, Katharine Hepburn, Monica Lewinsky, Anna Wintour, Cher, Judy Garland, the Pregnant Man and many others.
7. Jean-Bedel Bokassa
Proclaimed himself emperor of the Central African Republic by holding a coronation similar to that of Queen Elizabeth’s. Spent £10 million on the event regardless of the fact that his country was ranked as one of the poorest in the world. Served butchered prisoners to unsuspecting guests at the feast and later killed a school of children when they refused to wear the prescribed uniform.
6. Stephen King
My favorite author, and at one point, the man of my dreams. Wrote classics such as Misery, Pet Sematary, It, ‘Salem’s Lot, Carrie, Firestarter, and many others. I have 21 of his books and counting. Has a very wild imagination matched only by his skills in writing. Has the ability to inspire terror under ordinary circumstances. There was an episode on Family Guy where he was asked by a publisher if he had any more stories. He looks around, obviously empty handed and grabs a lamp and claims it kills people.
5. Salvador Dali
My favorite painter. I believe painters paint their own version of reality and if Dali sees the world as he paints them in The Persistence of Memory and Les Elephants, I would love to see the world through his eyes. I wonder how he would see me. Thin, I hope.
4. Ben Chan
As far as entrepreneurship is concerned, Ben Chan is one of the best. Has great business acumen. He has branched out to selling all kinds of stuff which instantly becomes the latest trend. His idea to use the hottest celebrities as models was a good move. Need I mention the annual underwear show?
3. Anna Wintour
As editor-in-chief to Vogue magazine, Anna Wintour is the authority of fashion. She is the most powerful figure in the industry and she dictates what’s hot and what’s not. Such power can be overwhelming but she seems to do it with ease. Her power is so fierce that designers change an entire collection when it isn’t to her liking. And rumor has it she always wears sunglasses (very don’t-talk-to-me) during shows so no one would see her roll her eyes when she isn’t impressed.
2. Candace Bushnell
Candace Bushnell wrote the bible. It’s not holy, but it’s revered by single women everywhere. I’m talking about Sex & The City. I learned everything I needed to learn about dating through that show which is probably why I’m like Carrie Bradshaw. Single, alone, and writing to stay alive. The fashion choices are also beyond fabulous.
Madonna’s on top of my list because not only does she make great music, she knows how to keep herself in the business. She has been in the industry for 28 years yet continues to generate airwaves and media attention. She has explored almost all genres from pop, dance, hip hop, R n’ B, gospel, electronica, and country. Her acting career isn’t as successful but that didn’t stop her from making books and teaming up with fashion designers to create special lines. In the biz, she is known to be a sharp businesswoman. Her ability to transform herself and her music is astounding that she has been rightfully dubbed the Queen of Reinvention.
Of course, my list doesn’t end there. My endless pursuit of interesting people are only limited by the number of people on this earth. Some of the other people I didn’t include but otherwise would still like to meet are: Coco Chanel, Erwin Tulfo, Victoria Beckham, Tim Burton, Kate Moss, Sigmund Freud, Chuck Palahniuk, Britney Spears, Zeus, Tallulah Bankhead, Louella Parsons, Joan Crawford, Stephen Hawking, Dakota Fanning, Marquis de Sade, Sen. Miriam Defensor Santiago, Karl Marx, Naomi Campbell, Johnny Depp, Jeffrey Dahmer, Patty Hearst, Jackie Onassis, and Paris Hilton.
How about you? Who are the people you’d like to meet before you die?
Monday, June 1, 2009
This summer was a total bore. I kept telling myself that it’s better that I spend most of the time at home so I could recharge my batteries when school starts again, but I realized I’ve made the wrong choice. I took a break from everything: academics, the paper (not so much the paper), going out, and partying. I figured, if I was going to take a break, I might as well go overdrive and cut back on all things. I still went out but I was mainly at home.
Looking back, I realized it wasn’t about choices because I didn’t have any. It was really because I had no money. My mom still gave me, but it didn’t compare to having a steady allowance when there were classes. I have no money in the bank because I spent a whopping P11,000 (don’t ask) on my birthday last February, and my wallet? What wallet?
So now I’m reduced to this. Having a “clearance sale”, which is just a fancy way of saying I’m selling my stuff so I could support my lifestyle. It’s pathetic because I’m like a credit card holder being repossessed. I’m selling my CDs, DVDs, clothes, and yes, even my books. I’m having a hard time parting with them because as a booklover, parting with my books is like parting with my heart. I agree with what my friend Victor said, they’re like my babies. But I have no choice. Here are other reasons why I’m selling my babies:
- I have too much of them. There are literally books everywhere. On the shelves, on the side table, under the computer, on top of the DVD player, and on the floor. My room is a pyromaniac’s fantasy. It has Danger Zone written all over it.
- I have a lot I haven’t read. I have this annoying habit of buying books by the bulk so my reading list drastically rises everytime I make a purchase. I once bought 17 books. Also, I tend to be impulsive. If my attention is caught even for the briefest of seconds by a title, a synopsis or a cover, I find myself heading to the cashier with a grin on my face. There have been many cases where on my way home, I find myself wondering: What was the title of the book I bought? I also buy online so I get carried away. All you do is click and ta-dah! You get a book. Aaah, technology.
- Because of my vast reading list (last time I checked I had 100+ and this was a year ago), I don’t have time to read the books I really want to read. I’m obligated to read the ones I bought on impulse. So it might take a few more years before I actually read Twilight. When I was in Mall of Asia the other day, there were books I really wanted to buy but couldn’t because of my unread books. I mean, besides the fact that I couldn’t afford it.
From a different perspective, being broke has been good for me. It taught me the value of money. You can’t live without it. I learned an important lesson in splurging, and I learned it the hard way. At least the whole experience has taught me to be more aware financially. Just a few days ago, I joined this group that pays to write articles. I think it’s important that I utilize what I have and market myself. I’m very passionate about writing so I decided, why not make money out of it? It’s not a lot, but at least I’d make dough. After all, it would be a terrible shame if I grow old and not use my potentials. And my possessions.