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I've moved (for now). A girl can be restless, can't she? :) (+ Knowing me, I'll probably be back.) See you: nganoman.wordpress.com
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Cheers. Prost. A Votre Sante. Or as they say in Japan, "Kampai!". Location: Sheraton Grande Tokyo Bay Hotel. "O, nasaan yung Bay? Parking lot lang yung view natin ah " Sylvia, my roommate says. Well, that and Tokyo Disneyland--its about a minute away from the hotel. I swear, being in transit (and without food) does something to you after a certain point; it switches the lunatic switch in you. As soon as we approached Sleeping Beauty's Castle, Sylvia cried: DISNEYLAND! WE'RE GOING TO DISNEYLAND! Pretty soon, the entire bus was shouting "DISNEY-LAND! DISNEY-LAND!" like 3 year olds on a sugar rush. Believe me, I was no detached observer. I was one of those rabid chanters. So why am I here? Apparently Northwest had "mechanical problems with the aircraft"--and a whopping 7 hours after they announced that the flight would be delayed, they shipped us off to a hotel 2 hours away from the airport. My seatmates on the plane(a gay dude who was looking forward to a meticulously planned Boracay getaway and a 65 year old Texan who flew in just to marry his 20something bride from Cabanatuan{"CA-bun-chuan? Cuh-ban-chun? Cay-bu-jan? How do you say it agan, dear?" ) were not pleased. In fact, as soon as we arrived at the hotel and were informed that we would have to share a room with someone, my newfound gay friend Bruce threw a fit. "YOU. ARE. KIDDING." he screamed at the Concierge. "There is no f&@$ing way I'm going to sleep in a a room with a stranger! Do you realize that we have been through absolute hell???? HELL. Do you understand that word???? I have been traveling for about 18 hours and I...I....I am....(he was at a loss for words for about seven seconds) PISSED off ! You better give me a private room or else I WILL SUE YOU ALL! " He stopped abruptly, as if a thought just came to him. "YOU KNOW WHAT, WE ALL WILL! HEY! EVERYONE, LISTEN TO ME! WE SHOULD TELL NORTHWEST THAT WE WILL NOT TOLERATE THIS!!!!!!!!!" He started flailing his arms around, his eyes all crazy, intent on starting a revolution of some sort. Of course, most of the people he was talking to happened to be non-confrontational Pinoys who evaded his gaze and feigned being deaf. Again, I was one of those people. I pretended to be engrossed in my thumbnail. Sylvia, a Filipina who specializes in close captioning ("we caption everything--from Doogie Houser to Playboy" , she said--to which I replied, "Hahahahaha awww how nice of you to cater to the deaf people who desperately need their porn fix") whispered to me in a conspiratory manner "we don't have to make a big scene to get our revenge". "So what can we do?" She smiled and said, ""Dear. There's room service. And there's a mini bar. Northwest is going to pay for everything." With that, we opened our Sapporos and toasted "To Northwest!" . UPDATE: things are okay here. Okay, scratch that. what an understatement! This is my first time outside of a japan airport and I'm loving it. Sylvia and I demanded an internet connection; thus, they gave us a LAN wire. I was hungry so I asked if I could have dinner. "I'm diabetic and my blood sugar level is low" I said, putting on my best kawawa face; thus, they gave me the cutest chicken nuggets meal ever. "I'm sorry, but that looks disgusting", the pregnant Sylvia said. P.P.S. To Chris: hey I brought Jack Daniels for you!!! UPDATE #2: SO.....Northwest delayed our flight AGAIN because "the crew was delayed" . WHUTTHEFAWKINGFAWK?!? Gay Bruce's forehead vein is about to explode. Good lord, I have to sit next to this guy for the next five hours. Silver lining: a free breakfast and 2,000+ miles to my Northwest account. At this point I'm like, "I dont need your miles, you horrible stinking airline. I dont ever, EVER want to set foot on any of your carriers in the future." |
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today i : woke up, put on my contact lens*, wiped the sleep from my eyes, turned up the heat to 90 degrees, went downstairs to make some coffee and all of a sudden a disquieting sense of horror dawned upon me.i couldn't tell the difference between the coffee maker and the rice cooker. the drama queen inside me started screaming, "im going blind! oh god this is just like that saramago book shit im all alone in the house how am i going to go to school oh my god oh my god oh my god". then i took a deep breath and reminded myself that during potentially disastrous moments, all you gotta do is disassociate. so i distanced myself from the actual scene at hand and i saw myself in comic strip form: there i was, a girl with messy hair, squinty eyes and lips that were frozen in a silent, frantic "oh". i could even see the inscription below the panel: "heavens", our heroine thought to herself in despair, "i do believe i lost my contact lens". an absurd hope jolted me back into reality--perhaps it was still in the sink! so i calmly went up the stairs and went inside the bathroom. there was a terrifying crunch. well whattayaknow, i had promptly stepped on my eyeglasses, shattering my only other window to the realm of sight. i'm blind, dear reader. (!!!!!!!!!!!!) (@$&*^&$%$&^%$^%$!!!!!!!!!!!!!!) disassociate, disassociate. * the noun is, indeed, in the singular form. i have been walking around with one contact for 3 months. those who know truly know me will not find this odd at all. |
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The responsorial psalm today was taken from psalm 19: "All the heavens proclaim the glory of the Lord". In my mind, I was thinking of that Sufjan song, Casimir Pulaski Day. On the floor at the great divide In the morning when you finally go In the morning in the winter shade Oh the glory that the lord has made Oh the glory when he took our place * my mind tells me to make a eulogy of some sort, and tell you stories of my grandmother, about how she was so good at cards that she gambled each week to bring in extra money, how she sewed dolls made out of cloth for her daughters, how she would always sneak in treats from her sari sari store( bazooka and judge and piatos) in my bag every time i left cagayan, how she looked forward to watching boxing matches on the television, how she and my father used to play scrabble, how my favorite pastime as a child was watching her as she went through her ritual of preparing betel nut leaves which she would chew and eventually spit out into a tin can, how she insisted on speaking english to the doctor from manila who operated on her eyes, how the only time i saw her cry like a child was when my grandfather died but the stories are too many, and my words fail to bring her back. she was -is! the heart insists, offended by the past tense - wonderful and fascinating and strong and my heart, as damaged as it is, is with her. |
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Janet: Things are... They're basically the same. I think time's running out to do something bizarre. Somewhere around 25 bizarre becomes immature. *** ha ha ha ha ha quarter life crisis ba ito? (I feel xx-small today; hence the font). *** yuck, emo post. |
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"When you meet someone for the first time, or walk into a house you are thinking of buying, or read the first few sentences of a book, your mind takes about two seconds to jump to a series of conclusions... I think that what goes on in that first two seconds is perfectly rational. It's thinking--its just thinking that moves a little faster and operates a little more mysteriously than the kind of deliberate, conscious decision-making that we usually associate with "thinking.""..I think those instant conclusions that we reach are really powerful and really important and, occasionally, really good. --Malcolm Gladwell I’m sorry Mr. Gladwell, but blink-thinking doesn’t exist in my universe. Like most things, perhaps this can be explained scientifically; let's say that this is due to some biological aberration. Assuming this is true, I guess I’d have to hypothesize that my nerve cells are either defective/certified dawdlers/just as spaced-out as me. Man, I can just imagine the scene in my head: Dendrite: Pssst. Axon: (sleepily) Haaa? Dendrite: I think someone’s asking you a question. Axon: Oh. (ten minutes pass) Dendrite: So. You wanna hear it? Axon: Ah, sige, pwede. Ikaw. Dendrite reiterates the question, after much concentration. Lethargic axon goes to neuron and neuron (going at pace that would make a snail seem like Wally West) somehow gets stuck in the small, cluttered gap that is my synapse and hangs out there for quite a while. Haay, my palpak nerve cells. I still love them. ** So, where am I getting at? This desultory intro is just my way of saying that the art (yes, art!) of answering LJ memes entails that instantaneous cognition that Malcolm Gladwell talks about-- and since I do not have that, Kara, your questions took me more than a week to answer. Ha ha ha. In the end, I say to myself: Why all this self-conscious rationalization? And to you, Malcolm Gladwell and the rest of you hares, I say: fawk it. Aesop did say that slow and steady wins the race. Instead of mocking me for being a slow thinker, you should bow to the master of mulling things over. 1. Tell me about one object from your childhood that is/was important to you. Okay. I’d like to talk about a dress. I’ll tell you a bit about my mom, first, though. My mother loved dressing her children up. And here’s a secret that will get me in trouble but oh well chris can’t beat me up cause I’m halfway across the world, ha ha: one day, her boredom got the best of her and she dressed up my brother in my sisters’ baby dresses. Damn it, I can’t believe no one took a picture of that—but according to my mom, he looked like a prettier version of Matet de Leon with his Sto. Nino ringlets. Kidding aside, the tragedy of this story is that while mom loved the idea of dressing up her little girl, I, on the other hand, abhorred dresses. Sunday mornings were all alike. They would commence with a struggle, with me stubbornly refusing the latest baby doll dress my ninang bought me, but the battle would always end with a compromise. The compromise was in the form of a forest-green dress with red flowers embroidered at the bodice. It was the only dress I would agree to wear, because for some reason it reminded me of Tinkerbell and Peter Pan. ** Strangely enough, I also remember the very last time I wore that dress. It’s one of the most vivid memories of my childhood. This is what I remember: I am looking at myself in the mirror and I am wearing that green dress. There’s something in my right hand. It is my father’s silver razor. I lather my left cheek with Safeguard, dip the razor in soapy water and I start shaving. I see the blood (first peeking out of the white foam then dripping onto the dress) before I feel the pain. Kind of disgusting, but 100% true. 2. Do you have a favourite student? Describe him/her, and tell me if sucking up works. Depends on the type of sucking up. I’ll tell you what definitely works though: Students who participate in class. They are such godsends, especially since eliciting opinions from high school kids is like pulling teeth, painful and seemingly interminable. A student’s silence can send a teacher spiraling into self-doubt, so if you ask me, no question/opinion is too stupid for me. During my first month of class I would feel like hugging a student who would raise his/her hand. Then I’d feel disappointed because nine times out of ten he/she would ask to go to the bathroom. I honestly never had a favorite student. They have infuriated, inspired and challenged me in different ways and ultimately, I am grateful to all of them. I'll tell you about two kids who have tugged at my heartstrings, though. i. During my college years, I tutored Kindergarten kids from Poveda. There was this girl who had thick glasses, messy hair and a nose that was almost always full of snot (which she would wipe off with her sleeve{like we all did once—aminin mo na, ginawa mo din yan.}) Her hygiene, however, was the least of her problems: I think the girl was dyslexic. She had trouble reading individual words, as if she wasn't sure whether to read it from left to right or vice versa and her spelling was atrocious. In our conversations, however, she was animated and a lot more eloquent than the average 5 1/2 year old. I had no idea how to handle her, so after 25 minutes of struggling with vowels, consonants and dipthongs, we’d just talk about her favorite cartoons. Talk about the easy way out. To this day I still regret how I handled that, and from time to time she enters my thoughts, like the ghost of Christmas Past or something. I still get a sudden pang of guilt at my inability to teach (or reach) her, and I wonder how she is. Does she still have glasses? Does she use a handkerchief to wipe her snot these days? was she teased by her classmates or labeled as "stupid"? The most important question: can she read now? ii. In St. Mary’s there was this boy who was branded by my co-teachers as a “troublemaker”. He was 4’11 and the mouthiest kid I had ever met in my entire life. If you read some of my posts way back when I was still teaching, he was the little saint who interrupted my definition of a declarative sentence by saying, “it states a fuck?” When my colleagues got word that I would be his adviser, they would give me sympathetic looks and would say either of the following: a. Kaya mo yan b. Just call me if you need help or c. Ha. Good luck!. At the start, it was a struggle. He was sent to the principal’s office at least twice a week, for reasons such as allegations of stealing, cheating, cutting class, possession of pornography--it was quite a colorful rap sheet for a child of 12. It was hard not to have a soft spot for him, however. For instance, he had this amazing talent for rapping in Bisaya (he definitely was a blink-thinker)—my aunt once told him to rap about the environment and after thinking for two minutes, he started rapping about the trees and the trash on the street. One day, he (along with a couple of students—hi far! Hi Elaine! Ha ha) walked me home and carried my books. The four of us talked for hours, just drinking water and eating Chippy. I remember laughing so hard at his stories of crank calls, how he’d randomly dial numbers from the phone book and announce to the person who’d pick up the phone: “Good morning, Mr. so and so, this is Dj chillaxx from kiss fm and you’re our lucky winner of a GE refrigerator.” By the end of the evening, he said, “Ay sus, dinhi na lang mu puyo ko maam beh. Bisag boy lang ko ninyo bah.” Then he started to laugh, trying to sound like he was joking. The last time I heard about him, he was supposedly expelled from school. Again, I wonder where he is now. 3. Which 3 singers do you look up to? Eddie Vedder: I am not a fan of tenors, not unless they’re gay. Justin Timberlake? I like your beats, but your voice? No thanks. Gusto ko ng macho na boses, one that's unmistakably male. Eddie Vedder is the only one I know who can sing whiny lyrics like: “I know someday you’ll have a beautiful life, I know you’ll be a star in somebo-huh-dee else’s ska-high, But why, whhhy whhhhyyyyy cant it bee, why cant it beeeee mine???” and still sound like a MAN. Julie Andrews: She inspired-- and taught-- me to sing. The sound of Music was my favorite movie growing up and since it really is a basic course in music theory, what better way to “start at the very beginning” (as Maria sings so sweetly) than to learn from a perfect-pitch 4 octave range diva? The crazy lady who lived at the top of the hill next to our house was clearly a fan of hers, too, because she would blast the OST every morning, and I would sing along with her. My only problem is now, when I try to sound soulful and grittier, like Fiona apple or Stevie Nicks or Patti Smith, I end up sounding like Julie Andrews with a cold. except for the perfect pitch/4 octave range part, that is. Freddie Mercury: The epitome of the word fabulous ( I just had to make that pink). He also has this insane range that is to die for. May passaggio ba siya? Parang wala. My admiration for Mercury and his effortless shifting from baritone to tenor also explains my current Mika obsession. 4. What's the worst movie you've ever seen? I love bad movies! It’s fascinating to watch really horrible ones, because just when you think they can’t get any worse, they do. One of my favorite bad movies has to be Death of a Cheerleader, where a dumpy Kellie Martin, obsessed by the idea of "being the best", stabs the most popular girl in school: a blond cheerleader played by Tori Spelling. It' s ridiculously bad. I love it. I have to say that I hate really violent, gory “horror” movies that aren’t scary at all—"torture porn" is not just disgusting, its really pointless and gratuitous. I don't understand why people want to watch characters getting raped by a grotesque mutants (The Hills have Eyes) or having their eyes being sliced (Hostel--now don't say that it was a homage to Bunuel, damnit) or dying by having their bodies cut in half by a chainsaw-wielding, leatherfaced madman (the Texas Chainsaw Massacre movies). Is this what people call entertainment? I just don't get it. My stomach just lurched. Change topic. **** 5. If you were a plant, which one would you be? A thistle. Diminutive, a bit strange looking and easy to dismiss, but look out, it has thorns! (oh wow, that was a blink-answer!) *I’m talented at blinking, though. When I was still teaching, my students would sometimes ask me questions and I would freeze. Then I’d blink. And then I’d blink some more. While Gladwell advocates trusting your instinct after the crucial first two seconds, my first thought that usually occurs to me after two seconds is this: “give me a few seconds more.” Sudden realization: no wonder those kids loved to say the word “loading….” while waiting for my answers, as if I were a pre-windows XP PC. ** Or something like that. Science was never my strong point. ***Sudden realization #2: Man, the people at church must’ve thought that the Costellos were so impoverished and deprived. After all, their little girl had only one Sunday dress. ****I didn't really answer this question, did I? Sorry about that.
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1. The phone rings, who do you want it to be? James Mc avoy. 2. When shopping at the grocery store, do you return your cart? Yes. I'm a polite shopper. 3. If you had to kiss the last person you kissed again, would you? god, I miss my mom. Of course i'd kiss her again. 4. Do you take compliments well? No. I almost always say, "nge". (aiza seguerra + the Ang TV kids were great influences in my life) 5. Do you play Sudoku? -- Yes. If I cant solve a puzzle in 30 minutes, I abandon it and start reading the godawful comics in the Inquirer. 6. If abandoned alone in the wilderness would you survive? -- i really don't think so. * On a slightly related note, read The Man Who Loved Tom Gordon by Stephen King. It's about a little girl who's lost in the woods--it's my favorite Stephen King book. 7. If your house were on fire, what would be the first thing you would save? -- Family pictures. 8. Who was the last person you slept in the bed with? --i sleep alone. 9. Who do you text the most? -- My brother. And Leo. 10. Favorite childrens book? -- Too many! I loved The Pokey Little puppy because it was about a beagle and chocolate pudding (or something like that). The Little Engine that Could has always inspired me. Me during the GC auditions: (whispering to myself ) I think I can, I think I can. Me during my MA compre: I think I can, I think I can Me during the GRE: I think I can, I think I can. HOLY MOTHER OF GOD I SOUND SCHIZO BECAUSE OF THIS BOOK. Oh and everything by Dr. Seuss, of course. 11. Eye color? -- Dark brown 12. How tall are you? -- 5 1/2. Been praying for an extra 1/2 inch since sixth grade. 13. If you could do it over again, start from scratch, would you? -- YES. 14. Any secret admirers? -- Don't think so. 15. When was the last time you were at Olive Garden? --Never been there. But Leo and I cooked some alfredo pasta based on a recipe that I got online with the heading "Olive Garden alfredo sauce". It was pretty damn good. it also had 1322 calories per serving. (well butter + cream+ mozzarrella+ parmesan isn't exactly low fat) 16. Favorite ex..? --ewan mcgregor. 17. Where was the furthest place you traveled? -- I dont know. debrecen? prague? I'm not good at geography, and too lazy to google this. 18. Do you like mustard? -- YES! with ketchup. and im not talking about that gourmet grey poupon/ honey mustard shiz. I like the cheap, pungent kind. 19. Do you prefer to sleep or eat? -- eat. 21. Do you miss anyone? -- my dad, everyday. My students, who make me so proud. 22. Can you do splits? -- yes. the only thing i learned from ballet. 23. What movie do you want to see right now? -- Shrek 3. Knocked Up. SuperBad. Waitress with Keri Russell. ( as you can see, I'm quite cerebral.) *yo chris, I saw Lucky Me on the plane. Was bored to tears, but maybe that's because I'm not really a poker fan. Good god, Eric Bana is hot though! so brooding! so sad looking! his triceps are a bit much, though. 24. What did you do for New Years Eve? -- Submitted grad school applications (which took a total of 8 hours--NOT KIDDING--because of the horrible internet connection at that time.) Then finished 3/4s of a bottle of Shiraz because of the stress, got a bit drunk and fell asleep at 5 am. 25. Do you think The Grudge was crappy? -- no. wasn't a fan of the remake. 26. Was your mom a cheerleader? -- No. She was a nerd who majored in math and english, then graduated at the top of her class. 27. Whats the last letter of your middle name? -- A 28. Are you hispanic? -- No. A lot of people used to think so, though. Then I got bangs and the whole world now thinks I'm Japanese. Even the Japanese stewardesses kept on talking to me in Nihongo. What's up with that? 29. Do you like care bears? -- yes. I remember this one time when our grandparents sent this huge box from the US and Chris and I opened it and almost passed out when we saw it was full of Care Bears and Pound Puppies. 30. What do you buy at the Movies? -- I go to wendy's first and buy a biggie coke light. 31. Do you know how to play poker? -- No, see question #23. 32. Do you wear your seatbelt? -- Most of the time. 33. What do you wear to sleep? -- Pajamas + my pink kimono. yes i'm precious like that. 34. Anything big ever happen in your CITY? -- Quention Tarantino, I guess. In Chicago? Fokken Brangelina. In DC? Oh nothing much, just George Bush ruining the entire world as we know it. 35. Is your hair straight or curly? -- Noncommittal. Very schizo. Mostly wavy though. 36. Is your tongue pierced? -- ew. 37. Do you like Liver and Onions? -- again, ew. 38. Do you like funny or serious people better? -- depends on my mood. 39. Ever been to L.A.? -- yes. I actually really really love the west coast. I need to go there more often. I like LA but I absolutely love SF. 40. Who is on your mind right now? -- most of the people who have been with me during the last few days. 41.any plans 4 tonight? -- Church, probably. 42. What are your favorite songs at the moment? -- Everything by Mika. "I can be brown, I can be green I can be violet skyyyyyy!" There's something about waking up to a blast of gayness. Invigorating! 43. Do you hate chocolate? -- of course not. what a preposterous question. 44. What do you and your parents fight about the most? -- Me taking my health for granted + my lack of focus. 45. Are you a gullible person? -- yes. 46. Do you need a boyfriend/girlfriend to be happy? -- Never had one, and ive never had the urge to slit my wrists or anything. but it would be nice. (yiheee) 47. If you could have any job what would it be? -- MY DREAM JOB IS TO BE A HOST FOR A KIDS SHOW. you know, like blue's clues or hi5 or something. I'd like to sing, be silly and hang out with kids the entire day. ( and here i am, in the academe.) --SECOND DREAM JOB: i would like to open a bakery and just bake. Like Maggie Gyllenhaal in Stranger Than Fiction. 48. Are you easy to get along with? -- Yes. 49. What is your favorite time of day? -- Dinnertime! I kind of go crazy with the eating. 50. Are you generally a happy person? -- Yes, but I do love the drama.
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col: so, do you wanna go out or do something? katie: yeah, do you wanna go to the air/water show? me: eeeeh. im feeling panget and i miss mom and chris. i just want to eat indian food in bed and feel sorry for myself. so, thanks but no thanks. katie: oh okay. me: besides its raining. there's enough air and water for us all. oh and i just got my chest xray. apparently, it appears that i probably have tb. whut? too tired to punctuate this properly. hope your weekend is lovely.
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Well no, actually it's a concert. APRIL 12, THURSDAY Be there, okay? Okay. Happy easter, my lovelies.
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The 5 question meme, from Yagi: (you know the drill- 1. Leave me a comment saying, "Interview me." 2. I will respond by asking you five questions. I get to pick the questions. 3. You will update your journal with the answers to the questions. 4. You will include this explanation and an offer to interview someone else in the same post. 5. When others comment asking to be interviewed, you will ask them five questions.) 1) Give me five songs that would best describe your college life and tell me why you picked these five songs. a. 1st Year: Elderly Woman Behind the Counter in a Small Town, Pearl Jam: Didn’t particularly enjoy freshman year. My sole reprieve from the overwhelming newness that came surging towards me was a diskman full of familiar music, and Pearl Jam’s Vs. was the CD I listened to the most. When I went home, though, the familiarity I yearned for wasn’t as comforting as I thought it would be. Old friends had new friends, the city had new malls and more cars and seemed less like the home I remembered it to be—and I was different too, even though I thought I hadn’t changed. To me, this song is about an initial refusal to move on (I change by not changing at all), and an eventual realization that feelings are fleeting, that friendships can be fractured and people change, not always for the better-- echoed in Eddie V.’s sad revelation: “hearts and thoughts they fade away”. And when the year ended, one of my new friends looked at my diskman, saw the CD that was playing and said, “Ano ba, Pearl Jam na naman? Hoy, mag move on ka na”. I paused, thought about what she said and then replied, “oo nga naman”. b. 2nd Year: Get Gone, Fiona Apple: What I remember most from my sophomore year were my moments of debilitating anxiety during GC practices. At least once a week Sir Joel would bark at us: “ALTOS! sing one by one”, and I just felt that one of the worst feelings imaginable was waiting for my turn to sing in my reedy, trembling voice, wanting to desperately to prove myself but at the same time knowing that I would probably freeze, like a deer caught in the headlights. Even though I couldn’t relate to Fiona Apple lyrically, (this album is really just one huge breakup song cut into singles) there’s something about the odd instrumentation and her sad voice that just mirrored the muddled, anxious, unsettling feeling that prevailed during this period. It also provided me comfort, knowing that there was one girl out there who was definitely more miserable than I was. Ha. c. 3rd Year: I Cannot Dance, Aaron Jay Kernis: During the preparations for the Glee Club European Tour, we spent countless hours practicing what I referred to as The Song of All Songs, a frenzied ode to divine Inspiration called I Cannot Dance. The alto 1 line was particularly agonizing, with ten billion flats and minor chords and ohmygod the sudden increase in tempo during the end of the piece with its accents in the most unlikely places was such a pain to study. NAKAKALOKA TALAGA. When we sang this during the European Grand Prix, all the worries about proper intonation just melted away. It was just... joyous and exhilarating music-making and I just felt blessed to be there, in that spot, singing such a beautiful piece. It really did seem like divine inspiration and most of us started crying the second we exited the stage. I still remember each note. d. Fourth Year: Two of us, The Beatles: during Sir Jim Paredes’s Creativity class he urged us to “walk the edge”. To me, walking the edge meant singing in front of a crowd (yes, I still suffer from incapacitating stage fright). Janus and I sang this one on the guitar, trying our best to harmonize with me singing a third above. In the end I think it went well, and I am forever grateful that he gave us chance to face some of our biggest fears head on in an environment that was totally welcoming. e. 5th Year (super seniors, reprezent!): Hey Ya, Outkast: Whenever I hear this song, it brings me back to one of my favorite memories during our US tour, when Leo, Ayie, Mimoy and I were drunk on red wine, laughing at our eccentric hosts and the awkward moments during the dinner table, and singing “shik it like a Polaroid peek-chure” again and again and again, thinking it was the funniest thing in the world. 2) Name the three best teachers that you've ever had. Why do you consider them the best? I learned so much from my father’s calm, step-by-step style that just made math so much easier for me, my sister’s creative and personal approach to Asian History that kept the classroom alive and inspired and Ma’am Hofilena’s impassioned discussions on our historical past that inspired me to make my present life relevant in one way or another. (I'm not being loyal to my family here, both of them were just incredible teachers) The three of them encouraged me to think critically about issues and to consider the implications of the things we learned in class. Despite their obvious expertise in their fields, they never acted like they were the sole sources of information and clearly valued every opinion, every question brought up by their students. They didn't just talk, they listened. They didn’t shy away from establishing personal connections with their students—they reprimanded when it was necessary and affirmed us when we were deserving of praise. 3) What did you like most about teaching? Do you plan on teaching full time again? Where do you plan to do this? I love teaching. It’s the one thing I know I can do well, and it's the one thing that I know in my heart I will dedicate my entire lifetime to. (I also know that you’re not supposed to end sentences with prepositions, but oh well). I am fortunate that I was born into a family that has devoted most of their lives to education, and that we have a school that enables me to accomplish these dreams. As soon as I have done everything in my power that will make me the best teacher I can be, I will go to Cagayan to teach and try my best to develop programs and better curriculums that are relevant in this day and age. I know that with utmost clarity. The best thing about teaching is when you know you’ve made that connection. When an underachieving student makes a brilliant allusion to an obscure literary character in class, when your co-teachers come up to you asking about the sudden increase in their students vocabulary or when a guarded, intensely private student goes to you and opens up about his feelings—those are the moments I live for. And it’s so exciting to watch them grow and express themselves, to see all that possibility unfolding before your eyes and to be given the chance to help them learn, as well as to learn from them. 4) Where do you want to be five years from now? What would you be doing? Hopefully by this time— 1. I will be at the tail end of a PhD program. 2. I will be a good musician—not just a dabbler, but to go beyond the basics of musical theory and to be able to read music accurately and confidently. I hope that by this time I will know how to play the guitar well--at this point, kaskas to death pa rin ako, and it's sad. 3) I will be able to do something concrete that mirrors my commitment to quality education—whether this means conducting research in the educational sector, or raising funds and awareness of our school's scholarship program. 4. I will be confident and fearless about what I can do, and to be motivated to learn the things that I can’t. 5) Name your top five favorite fictional characters. Why do you like these characters so much? a. Charlotte, in Charlotte's Web by E.B. White: She’s smart (“I live by my wits I have to be sharp and clever, lest I go hungry”) and slightly bitchy, she’s armed with a fantastic vocabulary (“salutations is just my fancy way of saying hello”) and she’s a genuinely compassionate friend: "You have been my friend. That in itself is a tremendous thing. I wove my webs for you because I liked you. After all, what's a life, anyway? We're born, we live a little while, we die... By helping you, perhaps I was trying to lift up my life a trifle. Heavens knows anyone's life can stand a little of that." Shet naiiyak na ako. Julia Roberts, you better do Charlotte some justice. b. Ramona Quimby, in the Ramona books by Beverly Clearly: It’s strange how I, a kid from Macasandig, Cagayan de Oro found myself relating to a fictional girl from Klickitat Street. I loved her because she was a bit strange(she named her doll Chevrolet), a bit self-centered (“If there’s one thing Ramona couldn’t stand, it was being ignored”), and had a penchant for doing impulsive things that got her into trouble (making a crown out of burs, squeezing an entire tube of toothpaste in the sink, cracking an uncooked egg on her head). When I was a bit older, I was really into the Anastasia books by Lois Lowry but Ramona was seriously my best friend for the longest time. Trivia: Sarah Polley played Ramona on a really short-lived series based on the books--I would kill for a copy of those episodes. c. Antigone, in Antigone by Jean Anouilh. (Yes, I like Anouilh's Antigone better than Sophocles's, so sue me):This was a toss up between her and Blanche Dubois. There’s something about me and complicated women who end tragically, and while it was a tough call, I chose Antigone because of her fierce love for her family and her strong sense of honor. Still, I think Britney Spears provides an incredibly fleshed-out, astute analysis of the character, and you can read an excerpt of her brilliant paper here: www.gawker.com/news/britney-spears/britb d. Max Fischer in Rushmore: He starts obscure clubs and puts on plays, is socially inept, and has two muses: a beautiful young widow and his prep school, Rushmore. Rushmore is the Wes Anderson movie with the most heart, and Max Fischer is at the center of it. e. Jack Bauer in 24: One of Schumacher’s more palatable films, Flatliners, begins with the words “Today is a good day to die”. I distinictly remember that because Kiefer Sutherland had the most beautiful mesmerizing voice. And I was, well, a bit let down when I saw him onscreen.
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There’s this part in Annie Hall where Woody Allen asks, “what is so fascinating about sitting around watching a bunch of pituitary cases stuff a ball through a hoop?" But when you’re in the stands, listening to the pulsating rhythm of drums, the rousing cheers of the Blue Babble and yes, even the rabid shouts from the aging alumni, it’s hard not to be moved. Suddenly you find yourself fueled by a seemingly infinite source of school spirit that you never thought existed and just like that, you are raising your fists and shouting those nonsensical cheers. I still have my folded ticket from that shining moment in 2002 when we actually won against all odds. The final game meant more to me this year, though, in spite the crushing defeat we faced against UST. It was actually the only one I got to watch during the entire season, and I regretted that as soon as it ended. I realized that it's truly amazing when you actually know some of the people who are doing these incredible feats. Even though we didn’t win, I went out of the Araneta Center in a daze, still enthralled by the game and feeling a tremendous sense of pride for the players. Hay nako, ang galing pala ng mga bata na yon! Haha. The day after the game, I went back to work and as soon as I entered our little room in the Pollock Center, the first thing that one the players said was “Ate Maggie, sorry ha.” I have a feeling most of them were apologizing to everyone they knew the entire day—and I don’t blame them, because it must have been hard to be touted as the next champions and not have those hopes realized. I doubt they will ever get to read this, but to Ford, Yuri, Zion, and Rabeh, you guys have nothing to apologize for. You fought the good fight, played extremely well and we’re proud of you. ***** Similarly, it feels strange to be listening to ACS as a spectator. True, there is nothing quite like the experience of singing within a choir, remaining steady and true with the soprano line while taking in consideration the other voices who are singing along with you. The thing I love most about being in the ACS is that by singing together we create a harmony borne out of our differences. As a choral singer, though, one of the disadvantages is that it is a bit difficult to hear the sound of the choir in its entirety. But watching my friends and listening to them—their fortissimos in full glory, the gossamer, silver strand of sound produced by their pianissimos, and just their triumphant voices in celebration—made me feel that same sense of astonishment and wonder. (Again: ang galing pala ng mga kaibigan ko!) And during the last few bars of Psalm 139, when they sang “If I say, surely the darkness will hide me and the light become night around me, even the darkness will not be darkness to you, the night will shine like the day for darkness is as light for you” they truly brought the text to life, because in that moment, every single member of the choir seemed to be radiating an inner light. Now I understand Doc Hof (the Glee Club’s most ardent supporter, who’s up there on my I Love Old Men list) and his favorite word for our sound: incandescent! So what I’m really trying to say is that we are all far more astonishing than we realize, and if you want to listen to beautiful music and witness amazing talent, please put aside all your negative sterotypes about choral music and watch the concert tonight at 8pm. It's going to be at the Church of Our Lady of the Pentecost in Xavierville. Tickets are being sold for 150 pesos and 300 pesos and will also be valid for the Bukas Palad concert on December 9. Again, please do yourself a favor and watch this concert. :) See you there. To ACS--I love you guys, have fun in Europe and don't forget to bring me home something precious.
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09208434907 (yes yes, my phone got stolen for the upteenth time.) AND I'm back to a Prepaid plan! Let's see how long my 300 pesos will last. Anyway please text me your numbers! Thank you. :D
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After a long hiatus, my brother decided to pick up his pencils and start drawing once again.  (Click to view the poster in its full glory) Go to his exhibit on Saturday and see why I'm so proud of him. See you there. |
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My comprehensive exams are coming up in less than 2 weeks (and the looming threat of the GRE is not far behind) so I really shouldn't be distracted, but HOLY MOTHER OF GOD how can I not post about this?
The first Elizabeth film was nominated for seven Oscars, including best picture and best actress for Blanchett. Blanchett has since won an Oscar, taking home best supporting actress this year for her convincing portrayal of Katharine Hepburn in the Martin Scorcese directed The Aviator. It is believed shooting on for the new film will begin in Lithuania later this year with a budget of between $50 and $60 million. The Golden Age will be Director Skekhar Kapur's third British period drama, following the Paramount-Miramax film, The Four Feathers, which starred Heath Ledger. Writer Michael Hirst, who penned the movie's script, will work with Kapur on the sequel. British biographer Jane Dunn, who wrote Elizabeth and Mary: Cousins, Rivals, Queens, welcomed Blanchett's casting. "I loved what Cate did in the first film because I think she was extremely moving in the lead role," she said. "Having said that, the history in the first film was bunkum. The remarkable thing about Elizabeth was not that she jumped into bed with every man she met but that she so effectively resisted temptation." (from Cateblanchett.net) mmm purple Now wouldn't it be swell if Gwyneth were nominated with her again just so Cate's Oscar victory would be ten billion times sweeter? ******** tagged by mirang(how are you???): 2. did u ever cheat during exam? 3. first boyband that made you go gaga? 5. what CDs are u currently listening to? 7. do u buy pirated CD's, VCD's or DVD's? BY THE WAY--- An apostrophe isn't needed to form the plural of abbreviations, so it should be "CDs, VCDs, or DVDs." Sorry, this wasn't directed at anyone in particular, and no, I'm not a grammar Nazi. This is just a major pet peeve of mine. 9. how many different faces can you make? 10. how many times do u brush your teeth in a day? 11. what perfume do u use? 12. do u watch pinoy telenovelas? 13. how about asianovelas? Excellent. 15. can u drive? 16. favorite streetfood? 17. describe your room, what can we find inside it? 18. do u like to party? 19. do u still ask permission from your parents about stuff, like going out or going to somewhere? 21. favorite radio station? 22. have u ever been under arrest? 23. what song do u sing in the shower? 25. do u keep a diary? 26. what do u do when u feel low about yourself? 28. worst gift you had ever received? 29. are u facing a major problem right now?
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When I heard the Learn’d Astronomer Walt Whitman When I heard the learn’d astronomer; When the proofs, the figures, were ranged in columns before me; When I was shown the charts and the diagrams, to add, divide, and measure them; When I, sitting, heard the astronomer, where he lectured with much applause in the lecture-room, How soon, unaccountable, I became tired and sick; Till rising and gliding out, I wander’d off by myself, In the mystical moist night-air, and from time to time, Look’d up in perfect silence at the stars.  The fledgling graduate student enters the university diffident and self-conscious, an empty vessel waiting to be filled with knowledge. Months later, that same student leaves the hallowed halls of the esteemed institution that has brought about Higher Learning with a newfound sense of confidence, for she is now equipped with the tool of the trade: jargon. ` I am not slamming the value of a good education. And yes, yes, it is empowering and invigorating at the same time. But while one of the allures of the academe is the abundance of Great Thoughts provided by canonical texts, the tendency to rely on academic gobbledygook will (eventually) prove to be one's downfall. Believe me, it’s horrifying when you find out you’re pretty close to those pseudo-intellectuals you’ve always rolled your eyes at. You know, those who begin sentences by saying stuff like: "Oh yes, Derrida would definitely agree with you on that…"or "Well, as Freire says in his essay, “The Pedagogy of the Oppressed”… or "Transformational generative grammar and its overemphasis on structures really does not take the concept of communicative competence into consideration, and because of that, Noam Chomsky is outmoded and obsolete". What? And poetry—all of those close readings! True, there is that giddy sense of excitement and pride when you decipher a symbol or extrapolate a theme and say, "I am getting this! I am great!"—but you know in your heart that your interpretation will remain to be humble without textual evidence, or proofs that validate your claims. So you bolster your arguments by parroting dead theorists and implementing their archaic frameworks, for it is only then that you can be taken seriously. And before you know it, reading becomes an impersonal exercise, a mechanical analysis of individual units of structure. You read, and before you can react to it a voice says, “Justify your reaction! Refer to the text!” Why can’t I just say “I like it because there's a tremendous sense of joy in the language”—or “She’s a good writer because she was able to evoke so much emotion in me” or “Of Mice and Men always makes me cry”. But of course you can’t just say that. To base your judgements on the affective level alone? Preposterous. That childishness should be relegated to the undergraduate level. There is no place for that here. There comes a point when it becomes wearying—to rely so much on these books, in these intellectualized conjectures, these empty words that paraphrase and build upon metaphors that weren’t even yours to begin with. And eventually, the depressing realizations dawn on you: that the plight of a student of poetry is that s/he can only see the poet’s greatness and never come close to it. And: that you have been so safe all along, never trusting the full potential of your own ideas (case in point being those research projects that were always analytical and never exploratory!). And while you understand the value in it, you can already see the element of cowardice involved in theorizing, because there never seems to be any room for creation. And then comes the final, tragic thought: that you have merely read about all of those things, constantly—but never experienced them. 
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1.Put your music player on shuffle. 2. Press forward for each question. 3. Use the song title as the answer to the question even if it doesn't make sense. NO CHEATING! 4. Tag 10 people to play this game too. How are you feeling today? Down the Drain, Jon Brion Ay hindi naman. Will you get far in life? The Longest Winter, Pedro the Lion How do your friends see you? A Dame with a Rod, Juliana Hatfield Whaaaat? That makes me seem like a transvestite. Or a hermaphrodite. Will you get married? Say Yes! To Michigan, Sufjan Stevens (Nge I hope I don't get married in Michigan, it's a bit too wintry--and midwestern-- for me. Ha. Siyempre my own father was from the midwest.) What is your best friend's theme song? Come Sail Away, Styx. What is the story of your life? Sunset Soon Forgotten, Iron and Wine What was high school like? Celebrate You, Veruca Salt :D :D :D How can you get ahead in life? ..And Justice for all, Metallica What is the best thing about your friends? Place to be, Nick Drake What is today going to be like? River, Sea, Ocean, Badly Drawn Boy What is in store for this weekend? Wouldn't mama be proud? Elliot smith What song describes you? What Will You Do when your suntan fades? Beulah To describe your grandparents? One Last Cry, Camile Velasco (ha! that was a bit embarrassing) How is your life going? Absolutely Cuckoo, Magnetic Fields ---hahaha! What song will they play at your funeral? Cry me a River, Justin Timberlake (!) Embarrassing admission #2. How does the world see you? Time can never kill the true heart, Stars and A Change is Gonna Come, Sam Cooke JOSKO HOPEFULLY NAMAN! Will you have a happy life? Better Man, Pearl Jam. She lies and says she's in love with him/Can't find a better man???? Hahaha. That doesn't sound good. Blah, I'll look for another one. Theme from the Greatest American Hero. Oh my God now that's embarrassing. I don't know why all these cheesy songs are popping up. What do your friends really think of you? Turquoise, Joan Baez Do people secretly lust after you? We only come out at night, Smashing Pumpkins How can I make myself happy? Makita Kang Muli, Sugarfree Aww. :( What should you do with your life? Running Down a Dream, Tom Petty Will you ever have children? Don't ask me to explain, Of Montreal. oh-kay. Cryptic much? Go on friends, answer this one. It doesn't make sense, but it's fun. <oh. I'm a poet and I don't know it. > _____________ AI finale tomorrow. Who's willing to bet his bottom dollar that a certain Mr. Hicks is going to emerge victorious? Sayang, I wanted elliott to be in the top 2. Oh well. What was up with those song selections anyway? :p Jeez. I haven't been this annoyed since Rodger and Elizabeth were eliminated from Survivor: Outback. I'm watching Cinderella right now and I'm getting creeped out by all the mice. That Cinderella was kind of unhygienic, don't you think?  Gus gus! I'm sorry my friend but you're a bit gross. I wonder how the Prince felt when he found out she dressed up--and kissed, ewwness--and hung out with the vermin in the house. Uh, major turn off.
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-- This is,of course, a not-too-subtle hint aimed at my sisters, who probably have access to the more obscure albums on this list. -- Jeline gave me the most beautiful Jane Austen notebook with the words "Follies and nonsense, whims and inconsistencies do divert me, I own, and I laugh at them whenever I can." How true is that? Follies and nonsense? Those things are my LIFE. However, one feels the need to preserve a thing of beauty: actually using the notebook for class would be a sacrilage. The thought of marring something so exquisite with my incoherent notes about lesson plans and lit theories written in illegible cursive is, well, unthinkable(I can still hear Jeline saying,"It's meant to be used and written in, okay? Okay?", though. Don't worry ha, it will be used--just not for class.:D), so i skipped into National Book Store and went home with notebooks and paper and pens and folders that i will probably all forget about after the third week of classes. Oh the early signs of my usual ningas cogon tendencies have arrived already. :( I'm just not too sure how much time I can spend on "follies and inconsistencies", though. It looks like Development of Poetry is no lightweight class. The reading list alone is four pages and we only have three days to discuss both the Aenid and the Iliad next week. Exciting? yes. Text heavy? Hell yes. Our teacher seems to be from an entirely different century altogether (case in point: the use of the word "felicitous"--twice. Oh and the fact that he started reciting "To His Coy Mistress" when we voiced our concerns about the syllabus.). Interesting. So this is all I ask: Lord, grant me industriousness and responsibility, note-taking and speed reading skills, the strength of spirit to resist the temptations of Ambush Makeover and American Idol. --- Friends, if you have time, read Never Let Me Go by Kazuo Ishiguro. Haven't finished it yet but it's so disturbing and bleak and sad, so sad but not overtly so, and I don't want it to end. -- What is with me and these little chapters that have no common theme? Sino ba ako, si Rina Jimenez David? Here's to my train of thought chugging along an erratic railroad. Ehh did that even make sense? It's the heat, not me, it's the heat, I'm telling you!
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heeee.
blank
sniffly
jetlagged and full of caffeine
gloomy
a spot of tea please
ehhh
not sleepy
food, glorious food
wheeee
worried
why is it so hot, why why WHY?