But a sosy nerd nonetheless. I don't know why I'd rather read in Starbucks, but that's what I've been doing every night. I can't seem to read at home. It's too quiet for one thing (sue me, I'm weird). And if I turn on the TV to have a bit of noise in the background, I end up watching than actually reading for the midterms tomorrow. Eeeeek it's tomorrow! Plus, there's the computer taunting me... tempting me to surf the net and then blog, and then blog some more, until I realize it's already time to sleep or else I'll have a lethargic morning the next day.
With all the noise in the coffee shop, I actually tend to read more and concentrate better. I take my sweet time going over the details and writing my notes until it's time to go home. I welcome the chatter of the people with a caffeine-high, and when I need to take a break, I just look around and observe the customers. How cool it is that these people have their own lives and yet at some point in time, we were in the same coffee shop!
Unfortunately, if I keep doing this, I'll be broke before the week is over. Caramel Macchiato... Mmmmm...
After hearing the allegations posed by the mutinous soldiers against the government, there are just some things that I want to ask. If the government is making mistakes, would you do anything about it? If the government is fouling up big time, would you consider going against it? If the government is doing an injustice and is suppressing the common good, would you stage something so drastic to prove your point?
I am not an expert on political and economic affairs. I am only studying them. But seeing how animalistic humans can become when driven to a corner, moral questions simply fill the air with its acrid stench. I am saddened of the fact that this nation is plummeting into a bottomless abyss. The institutions that we have --- democratic mechanisms --- are already established, we just have to figure out how to properly run them.
And seeing how many people of my age want to leave the country for better opportunities, who can blame them? We are not heroes, we are not duty-bound to make this country achieve a ray of greatness, but we are responsible for its well-being. And I am asking, if you were climbing up a mountain, and you discovered that the rope that your life depends on has loose fibers, would you throw the rope away?
How exciting is that?!? This is the first time that I experience an honest-to-goodness coup d'etat. And I am seriously savoring every minute!!!
Ok, I know my happiness is evidently uncalled for in this situation. But how many pol eco students who are specifically interested in military strategy, violence, conflict and development actually get to apply what they learn in the classroom to what is happening out on the streets? The whole thing is exhilarating. I've been watching the news since I got home from Mass. The thing is, I never knew about the coup until the taxi driver we got refused to bring us to Greenbelt Chapel. Apparently, rebel soldiers have been planting bombs all over the Oakwood (a hotel) and the Glorietta Mall. If ever those things go off, imagine the wrath and depression among teenagers... G4 is practically an institution of cinematic proportions, literally.
Oooohh... for people who are interested in what's happening in this part of the world, just click on inq7 to get all the dirt.
This whole thing will certainly have an impact on the economy. I wouldn't be surprised if the dollar will be worth sixty pesos tomorrow. Damn it! The Australian Ambassador was in Oakwood for Pete's sake. Now we have a noose waiting for our tourism industry. And since the government declared State of Rebellion, those captains leading the coup will receive a reclusion perpetua sentence if ever they get caught. I hope they get caught, I certainly don't want a bloodbath. How sad that they used those red bands around their arms! If I got my history right, they're wearing the symbol of the Katipuneros, the revolutionaries that gave us our independence as a Philippine nation. This unconstitutional stunt is a disgrace to that part of our history.
I admire how the President is handling the situation. She's tough and as calm as ever. Her speech went straight to the point.
"This is your commander-in-chief... there is absolutely no justification for the actions you have taken. You have crossed the line of professionalism. Your actions are already hovering on the fringes of outright terrorism... I ask you to remember your oath to the flag. You have already stained your uniform. Do not drench it with dishonor."
Cool. It's really times like these that I'm happy I took pol eco, that I would like to pursue that MSc in Violence & Conflict in London, that I want to become a negotiator, a lawyer, a military strategist. I was itching to go to Makati this morning and bring my SLR for some real photojournalistic exposure.
Sad to say that the spokesperson of the coup people sounded a lot like my friend who is now in the Philippine Military Academy. He's on his second year and I've heard some horror stories in that boot camp. I don't know what they're teaching in there, but I think they need a course on Responsible Citizenship. Hey maybe this is a chance for me to do something about it. Who knows?
I wonder if there's going to be class tomorrow. I really don't mind postponing that exam...
* * *
Saturday, July 26, 20038:10 PM mirror, mirror on the wall
Tell me once and for all
will I forever be short or
am I going to be... tall???
Hahaha! I'm such a spaz when it comes to rhyming, which is probably why I like prose. But anyway, this is really a serious entry. I've been overthinking about my future. I have gone over the stage where people ask me "what do you want to be when you grow up?". I wanted to be a lot of things... and during my growth, the things I want to be aren't as many anymore. It's like some ghost pen is suddenly slashing the options off my list, and now the dilemma is not about fulfilling everything I intended, it's about doing what I really want to do. And then I get to the point of being scared of even trying.
Like love. If I could have a hundred bucks every time my friends tell me I'm scared of it, I think I'd have enough money to buy that set of Star Trek The Next Generation episodes over at Amazon. Yes I admit it. If guys are considered to be commitment-phobic, then I am a freak of all womanity. It's the possibility of heartbreak that makes me run. It's like what Karen whats-her-name wrote, as quoted in Ces' blurty.
The sound of heartbreak is (and I personally felt it this way) "the caress of sharpened kitchen knives on skin, the sound your throat makes as you swallow your saltiest tear. It's the sound of your own voice calling out to someone who isn't there, of winged creatures dying and falling on a city pavement, of terms of endearment used a hundred times a day struggling to crawl into a vacuum of forgetfulness, it's the sound of your own sobs keeping you company, it's the cold, uncaring stillness of the air you share your space with." And the scariest thing of all is that no one else hears it but you.
Need I say more? And if ever Pammy's "relationship court" is realized, then maybe by then, I'll start to see things differently. But as of now, I shall be cautious and hopefully not be stupid, thank you very much.
And what about running after my dreams of doing something for the good of the world? Okay, at some point I feel pissed as hell because I can't get my act together but then my optimistic self would suddenly take over and then disturbingly smile at the world. Will I be a professor? A lawyer? Or an MA student at least?
Mirror, mirror on the wall
Am I ever going to get there at all???
And how come I feel like I have a multiple personality disorder? I am starting to get uncomfortable with the fact that there has to be a separate me when I go to chorale rehearsals or when I do productions. I transform into this "brooding" artist at night (since that's when rehearsals usually happen) and morph back into serious-I-mean-business-in-your-face-COMELEC-queen by day (something I never thought I was capable of becoming in the first place).
Oh no... has it reached to that point that I need to be drunk to actually say and do what I want?
So mirror stuck on that peeling white wall of mine, what do you think? And if I got my fairy tales right... that the Mirror can not lie at all, then this is one truth that I am sure you'll be telling me:
"Tell your heart that the fear of suffering is worse than the suffering itself. And that no heart has ever suffered when it goes in search of its dreams, because every second of the search is a second's encounter with God and with eternity." -- The Alchemist
And I guess that goes for living, as well as loving too.
I knew that being caffeine-free for at least two months was too good to be true. Every morning in fourth year, I had at least a cup of coffee to wake myself up from the long sleepless nights. Now that I'm taking it easy, and actually enjoying my free time, I find myself looking for that caramel macchiato that I am so love with. And so I went to Starbucks Thursday night to read. Big improvement was that that I ordered a short cup and not the usual tall size. It seems like I am not used to the caffeine anymore that bouts of spoonerisms and twisted sentences kept bubbling about. When Lai asked me about Dante's Inferno and it's many references to the intellect's enlightenment, I was so excited I ended up saying "fires of tongue" instead of "tongues of fire". And Bundi and Prawny happened to be at the next table! *sigh*
Yesterday was Crissie's birthday and she took me to Cinnzeo for bottomless coffee. I had two cups (usually I'd have four... or more!) and I was so upbeat, I was the perkiest person to ever come to class that day (yes, perkier than Ces). Too perky, that I hit my head on the wall and everybody heard it. In fact, it was so loud and the way I yelped "aray", made everyone, including the professor, to laugh and tell me to lay off the coffee once and for all.
But did that stop me? Of course not! I went to Starbucks again at 9pm to read for an exam on Monday. My God, I looked like a nerd --- reading on a Friday night in the busiest coffee joint --- the place was packed. Families and office people were there gathered in two or three tables, sometimes glancing at me and my readings. I was pretty much hard to ignore, I was in the center of it all, just me and my solo table with two other chairs --- one for my tired feet and the other for my bag. And when I ordered the usual, the barista didn't have to ask for my name, he knew it by heart.
Funny enough that my professor for that class I had, came in and ordered his own cup of brewed coffee. For thirty minutes, he and I were there talking about the course, the institute, and everything else. He left the shop that night with my renewed respect. And since my classmates weren't there, I had a feeling that the questions he asked were the ones he had wanted to ask me for a long time. I guess on his part, he left that shop understanding me more, at least seeing a little through whatever cloud of mystery I would usually put on unintentionally.
And I realized, for some ironic, cosmic reason, this guy was always the same professor to tell me to slow down on the caffeine ever since third year.
* * *
Wednesday, July 23, 200311:53 PM give me bees, snakes, spiders, dragonflies
And I’ll be just fine.
But do not under any circumstances leave me in a room with a cockroach scurrying about or else I will absolutely die!
I will scream my lungs out, climb onto a chair, and pray the litany. I will never ever sleep (and so will you) until I see the insect’s corpse in front of me to assure me that that little disgusting lowlife of a creature will not be anywhere near me at any time of the night.
Trust me. Baby cobras in the terrace, I can handle. But cockroaches? Never.
I watched the replay of the Chicago Hope episode last night. Interestingly enough, it was about this surgeon that every doctor in the hospital seriously loathes. He just committed suicide on the top of the hospital. The 6-storey drop making his bones look like "popcorn" as one surgeon put it, but he was alive surprisingly. The dilemma revolved on the question, "would you save someone's life even if that someone is a person you hate to death?" But of course, in my opinion, personal feelings shouldn't matter in a situation of life and death. Every human life is sacred and we are in no position to sentence each other to die.
And this made my imagination run away again about the J-man. What if at some twist of fate, I become a topnotch heart surgeon and suddenly the Institute Director ended up on my table? Ooohh... a lot of things are going through my head at the speed of light. Bits and pieces of conversations between me and my patient that can fill up a fiction novel (not a bad idea... I shall get to it). Imagine the drama, the suspense, the bitterness, the realizations, the reconciliation?? Hah! And if his sadism rubbed off on me, I'd be happy to leave him for the vultures silently circling above. But thank God, I didn't take fifth year, and though I toyed with the idea of medical school, I think it's already too late for that.
But the fiction novel was a nice idea, nevertheless.
* * *
11:40 AM
Ack! Despite the Dean's prediction that classes might be canceled again today, the typhoon couldn't wait to get out of the country and go to China. My... I know staying in the Philippines might be too much for the weak of heart, but this is ridiculous... even typhoons migrate! Hahaha! Okay, enough with the corny remarks. What am I complaining about anyway? I don't have classes on Wednesdays except a two-hour rehearsal.
The Dean called me last night to cancel our trip to UST. I expected that what with all the rain and the wind yesterday, UST happens to be in España Street and man, the flood can get really nasty there. So, maybe next time. I'll just go to the gym instead and burn off what we ate at the Banana Leaf yesterday.
* * *
Tuesday, July 22, 200311:14 PM no classes today! yippee!
Oh how I absolutely love rainy days! If I were stuck at home on days like this, I’d simply grab my comforter, curl up on the couch, and watch the rain trickle down the windowpanes. But I love rainy days like this just as much when they fall on a class day where the university calls off all classes due to floods and strong winds. Yes, I know it’s a typhoon and lots of things happen when typhoons come --- bad things usually since affected cities would often be in a state of calamity --- but I can’t help but be reminded of the fun-filled unplanned trips to the cinema or to wherever. Suspended classes simply mean the chance of doing something fun out of impulse… and knowing how my sense of adventure kicks in, being impulsive is just second nature.
As Bundi and I went up to DLSU to pick up Karl for lunch, we hoped that classes would be called off. The three of us had lunch in Banana Leaf and the food was so marvelous, all other Asian restaurants should cower in shame. No, I didn’t get to order the eel since Bundi wouldn’t let me (you wuss!) but we had clams in chili sauce, Thai noodles and stir-fried veggies that still make my mouth water whenever I think about them. And stupid me forgot to bring the digital camera to get everything on film! Arrrgggh!! Next time, I swear it!
The three of us wanted to watch a movie later, but Karl couldn’t come because classes were only suspended at 2pm today --- after we dropped him off in DLSU. And since there was really no reason to go back to UA&P immediately, Bundi and I watched Down With Love in Rockwell. It was the third time I watched the film and I’m still not sick of it. The production really impressed me so much, I wanted to dissect everything on screen. It was just a shame that Karl couldn’t watch the movie with us.
Oh and I think I’ve learned my lesson about loud reactions in the cinema.
* * *
Monday, July 21, 200311:55 PM the ethics of unconventional teaching
I've thought of cutting class today but then I decided against it. I know I have been bumming but I do not intend it to become my actual profession. And if I can't fulfill this simple duty, how am I going to get through other heavier responsibilities? I'm glad I didn't cut. I haven't seen my friends for a while and I missed their company... not that I go to class because I just want to see them. I wish I could truly love my class. It is very informative, theoretical and all, but it happens to be unengaging and downright boring. But then, there's really nothing you can do about it and the only way to spice up a class like that is to play "devil's advocate" when your classmates are reporting.
But for a fifth year student to play devil's advocate on a class filled with fourth year people? How petty! I mean the reason why I just shut up in class is because I want to give the other people a chance to figure the class discussions I have taken part how many times in my past subjects. It's definitely unfair that I have such an advantage and that the only thing that's keeping me in the class is because of one paper requirement I couldn't finish on time. And so instead I just help out whoever fourth year person who happen to sit beside me. Not only I get to know them, but it's a chance to get revered help him or her. Like today. I actually coached a person fumbling right beside me about research methodology and military regimes. I felt something fuzzy after he thanked me for saving his ass. Some teachers say that whispering the answers to your seatmate does not really help the other person learn. I disagree. It actually helps, especially when the situation is a sneak peek of what it's like on Judgment Day.
How? Well, of course the student in trouble would be racking his brains in overtime trying to figure out the answer to the question. After a few humiliating minutes of pauses and stuttered phrases, he finally gives the answer. Because of the stress he just underwent, he will never ever forget the question and the answer for the rest of his life, and the whole incident will only be filed in his horrifying moments archives. Decades later, he will most likely share the experience and the lesson with his children or whoever sucker that happen to catch him walking through memory lane.
It's thoughts like these that make me think about teaching. The consequences of having such an unconventional belief as a student will most likely not put me on the popular vote among fellow professors. I'm beginning to believe what I heard from a show on TV the other day, "the professors who expertly catch their students cheating most likely used to cheat themselves".
My niece and I spent the morning in Makati. Went to mass at 7am, ate breakfast in Pancake House, had coffee in The Coffee Bean and Tea Leaf (which had really great brewed coffee), and watched Lizzie McGuire in the mall. I thought I'd spend the rest of the day at home finishing COMELEC stuff for tomorrow's meeting, but my roommate insisted that we watch Down With Love. And though I have already seen the movie, I still watched it since it meant spending quality time with the people at home. And besides, I am so in love with the music in that movie. Michael Buble sang two songs in the soundtrack.
I like Sundays now. I used to hate them because they usually have this lazy atmosphere that makes me so slothful from schoolwork. But now that I don't have much to worry about, I am enjoying my Sundays just fine, especially when I get to spend the day with rels at such an early start. I can only hope now that I learn to expertly drive soon because I can't stand suicidal taxi drivers anymore. I swear, I thought I'd die of a heartattack before we reached home today. Drag-racing with three buses in the middle of the highway is not very entertaining, and if that guy thinks we're having a fun ride, he can ram his cab against one of those buses once Lai and I get out of that crummy car.
The time has come to say goodbye to the most beloved position I've ever held. I realized that its about time to resign and that a third term is not an option anymore. After all, it is the third term. As a friend put it, isn't it about time you give that position to someone else? Oh but it's hard... especially since I've literally put tears, sweat, and blood for such a thankless job. Running ViARE (theater org) was one thing... but running COMELEC was different altogether. Where else can you get controversy, righteousness, morality, legality, pressure, leadership, and perseverence all in one go? It's something that I have considered to be a taste of being a lawyer and a judge.
But of course, I must turn in my resignation letter as soon as the responsibilities for this semester are fulfilled. It's about time that someone else takes over. I loved my job, even if it meant not getting everybody's approval. I loved working with the most un-apathetic students in school. I loved the idealism that came with each candidate that runs (yes, even the mindless platforms). I loved scaring dealing with scummy campaign managers. I loved the yelling and the screaming at the stupid people who do not want to fall in line when they vote. I loved every single minute especially when I sit in front of the computer and write a memo that makes every candidate and campaign manager cringe (evil sadist me showing) with fright... or disappointment, whichever is fine.
But hey, my services will still be offered. I wouldn't mind being an official adviser-moderator (hint! hint!) now that I am part of the faculty.
I have a nasty cough. Great. And I thought the pharyngitis was the worst that could happen especially when chorale rehearsals are getting more demanding. Oh well. But I really, really hope that I won't get a fever this week.
* * *
Saturday, July 19, 20037:19 PM postgraduate studies
I have regretted not pursuing my intended college course back when I was picking out courses and universities to go to. I shared this with the dean and he decided to let me tag along to the University of Santo Tomas on Wednesday and meet this person who used to be the head of the Philosophy Department (or something like that). Yes, my first choice as far as specializations go is Philo, and I so loved every torturous minute of mtephysics, ethics, special ethics, and man & history in UA&P. I am a nerd, and if I take Philosophy as intended, I will be a happy nerd.
But of course, I don't know what's going to happen after this... The call of MA courses outside the country is pretty hard to ignor.
I'm finally back... with a vengeance. It's such a cruel twist when a girl declares hiatus and suddenly a lot of things happen to her --- good and bad. Good is that the Dean of CAS offered me a job for next semester in the University. (Whoopeee!) And I was too overwhelmed by the job responsibilities that I forgot to ask about the salary. Teehee. But anyway, here's what Doc T told me so far, I was to "spearhead" the Office of People Development in designing a Responsible Citizenship curriculum. The conceptual framework for this thing happened to be my practicum research in ISA. But what I absolutely love about the job is the fact that I get to "overhaul" the department itself and hire the people I want to teach the subject. Moreover, I get to teach it myself. Mucho coolness!
And as for the bad things --- losing my voice, getting yelled at by the choirmaster (well, not directly), surviving through my rels' interrogation --- hey, what's life without them, right? Oohhh, let me just share that the University Chorale made its first appearance with the new choirmaster this morning at the Baccalaureate Mass for the Strategic Business Program (SBEP) Graduation and we sounded awesome! Seriously way better than our concerts! People who didn't see us sing thought we were a professional choir, a mighty nice compliment for a bunch of amatuers. And we definitely noticed our improvement ourselves when we sang our most sincere version of the Our Father. The song was a killer for my section but the way goosebumps suddenly appear out of nowhere was well-worth the effort we put into it.
There are just some things that you think you’ll never hear from your relatives, much more from your favorite uncle. After the usual, Where’s your boyfriend? Why don’t you have a boyfriend? questions, my uncle then tells an anecdote about married life.
fave uncle: “you haven’t heard of this story? Well, I’ll tell you. When this couple got married, they went to the honeymoon place immediately to have the most passionate honeymoon in their married lives. And then the groom met this dog that kept barking at him.”
(pauses for giggles)
fave uncle: “The groom was getting pissed at the dog, and started counting. One… but the dog kept on barking. Two… the dog still wouldn’t shut up. Three… the dog was still barking like anything that the groom took out his handgun and shot it. The bride was pretty much shaken about the whole thing.”
(pauses one more time)
fave uncle: “Years later, the husband and wife got into the nastiest quarrel they’ve ever had. The wife just wouldn’t stop yakking and yakking. Finally, the husband decides to stop the fight once and for all. He started counting. One… the wife still kept on blabbing. Two… the wife finally shut up.”
Okay, tito Mario. I get it now. Moral of the story: do the whole counting bit before my husband does it first… and of course, by then, I’d have inherited my dad’s P-99.
God must have agreed on my very outspoken misadventures and collaborated with the pharyngitis virus to give me a mean case of sore throat. Not again! When I was in grade school, I used to get sick once a month with pharyngitis. I am not kidding here. My throat is actually the most vulnerable part of my body. But then, stupid me went out last Wednesday to chorale rehearsals and that’s where it all began. The choirmaster tortured us with vocal exercises and then he made the Soprano section tinker with the high notes. And being a Soprano One, my section’s territory was at the rightmost end of the piano-organ. Mr. Tan picked that night to be utterly relentless… and I couldn’t really enjoy myself with the la-la-la-la’s and the ma-me-mi-mo-mum-ha-ha-ha bit. My throat hurt. And then, he says, ”okay by two’s”.
Needless to say, I swore under my breath that made the Sopranos beside me cringe. Then my partner and I started to sing and I couldn’t reach the high notes at all. Oh God, imagine my horror when Mr. Tan suddenly points me and says ”do it alone”.
Pathetic. Pathetic. Pathetic! I wanted to crawl under a rock and die. I looked like a fish in an aquarium… just opening my mouth with no sound coming out. Oh yeah, that German music teacher and those people that happen to audition that day helped a lot, thanks. Maybe next time they could sit in when I have whooping cough and I could whoop all I want while we sing When I Fall In Love. I can just see it now… when I fall in *cough* love, it will be *cough* forever… or I’ll never…*cough*
Bah.
The next day was spent in absolute muteness. I lost my voice and I couldn’t even let out a single croak. I practically whispered all day long and improvised the most pathetic sign language ever invented. At least some people had fun at my expense.
I should be shot, maimed or at least gagged if I go near an alcoholic drink. I just can't bear with the thought of humiliating myself again. After talking with Bundi about the wild weekend, I cannot believe that I was such a stupid person!!!
I feel awful... so awful that I'm thinking of not blogging for awhile... just for a few days. Basically I don't want any contact with the rest of the world because I don't want to blurt out anything that I might regret. I've been such a careful person, minding what I should or should not say, not letting anyone in on what goes on my mind or in my heart. I crumbled that special wall that I created for myself to intentionally protect me from everyone else, and now two people in the world have found my Achilles' heel. Maybe not blogging or talking to anyone for that matter may renew my sense of self-control.
I hate being vulnerable. Maybe being a hermit for a few days may help me salvage what ever brick is left. To Bundi and Soliloquy, hope you won't take this the wrong way.
* * *
Sunday, July 13, 20035:57 PM bundi's driving school
Before going to Tagaytay yesterday, I had my first lesson in UP. My second driving session was in Fort Bonifacio this morning. Bundi is such a great teacher, I think he should really put up his own driving school. I am more confident behind the wheel now than back home in Surigao. Although I still need work, I can now back-up, make a U-turn, and signal and execute turns with more conviction.
All I can say is, Bundi can really be strict with his driving drills. If ever the engine dies or I make a grave mistake, I had to add one more execution to the particular drill I was attempting. But I think that's all good. I guess we now know my stubbornness is good for something. But I still can't get rid of what Bundi calls the "Alba shift", a.k.a. the manner in which I crank up the gears like I've been drag-racing all my life. Talk about loss of feminine poise if ever I had one. And poor Bembol...
I think I now belong to the driving world when a guy waved at me his thanks when I let him pass. I like the fact that I have improved. It's nice to feel accomplished once in a while.
It is really shocking to know the capabilities of my drunken self. The last time I got insanely drunk was on my 18th birthday. It has been two years and a half since I have challenged the tolerance of my liver to alcoholic potions and I realized last night I was seriously out of practice. The alcohol went to my head sooner than usual and that's when the fun began.
Now here's the deal. I have gotten drunk before and I'd be so wasted, I'd end up crying my guts out. Remember my self-protective mind and how it filters the emotions 24/7? I think it is a product of it. The drunken truth is that my mind and mouth become so unbridled that I will readily blurt out what I think about everything and anything. This is what Bundi and Soliloquy discovered last night in Tagaytay.
I believe I was such an embarassment to humanity last night. The thing is I am not gifted with the ability to forget the things I do when I'm drunk so I shall forever live with the humiliation. I remember everything that happened, now that I thought about it, but I can never remember which of my memorable blurt-outs in their "historical" order.
I did not cry and I so thank God so much about that. My life right now is not such an emotional mess so that's probably why I didn't scare the wits of my friends. But I did remember something really, hugely, absolutely embarassing that I can't believe Bundz and Soliloquy could keep a straight face talking to me this morning. Like other drunken escapades, I told them (or any other person who is with me on occasions like this) that I love them. Oh my God!!! From a person like me who so despises vulnerable, touchy-feely moments on any given day, I practically told them outright that I love them like I told the maid that I loved her two years ago on my birthday! (If you guys are laughing right now, I can't believe you didn't tell me this at breakfast. I just had to recall it by myself.) And the thing is, I didn't exactly say it once, I said it repeatedly with my eyes closed as they were coaxing me to sleep! Someone please shoot me in the head, that was just so ridiculous!!!
If one of them brought a tape recorder last night, they could actually blackmail me now. I gathered that Bundi so enjoyed my bluntness that he asked questions like, "why do you hate the J-man?", "why do you dislike so-and-so?", and I would readily have a freakin' answer to each question. What's worse, my own incessant curiosity would be at a climax. I remember this moment:
Soliloquy: "O, there's a guard with a flashlight."
Bundi: "I am getting really tense."
Me: (really loud) "But WHY??"
I think no more Jeigermeister, Black Label, and frozen margaritas for me in the future. I should pledge myself to sobriety forever and ever if I plan to keep my pride.
* * *
Thursday, July 10, 200311:26 PM today is such an unusual day, i swear
Okay, aside from the fact that I found out that my ex-bosses did consider me for the position, they didn't get me to work for them. Dr. Torralba, dean of CAS, actually called them up today to find out about my status and to further recommend me. Although I was the first choice (so they said) they had a problem with my class schedule. And that's why I feel like scum. BUT a wanted scum nevertheless. There is a difference. And finding out about it in that time of the month is even more devastating. My mood swings were very extreme. One minute, I was laughing, the next I was as silent as a rock. Weird, I tell you!
Another thing that's making this day special is that old friends kept popping out of nowhere. Mark suddenly shows up at the front door (and thanks, Bundz for being my doorman today and for putting up with my extra-weirdness) and declares that we have to go to the local FM station to audition for a duo dj spot. I was actually overjoyed! And scared at the same time since I haven't done a disc jockey stint in 5 years. Melanie, a friend whom I haven't seen for years suddenly calls me on the cellphone to say hi! And I ran into Lala, my CivAsia partner-in-crime three years ago, in the mall.
But the weirdest thing had to be the tickets we bought for P50 (US$1) from a scalper who suddenly approached us when we were arguing about which movie to watch. It was the premiere of Down with Love starring Renee Zellweger and Ewan McGregor. Original price per ticket? P200 at least. I got really scared though when we bought the tickets. The scalper was acting really strange and I have never bought anything illegal before... okay... except the pirated cds, but they don't count. People buy pirated cds, dvds, and vcds all the time on the other hand, what are the chances of buying scalped Down with Love tickets for 1/4 the price? It was cheaper than the regular movie that costs around P60 for the sucky seats! There was even this woman who pleaded to go inside the movie theater with us since she "lost" her ticket. But I gotta tell you honestly, I was ultra nervous when we entered the cinema. I was waiting for cops to suddenly show up and arrest us or something. Good thing that didn't happen or else, I'll feel extra-scummy. And a girl who feels like scum in one of those days should be considered armed and dangerous.
I am beginning to like my sister (*gagging sound*). And I am beginning to absolutely-hate-about-to-declare-war-but-not-yet her American accent. It really just annoys me when she says the words, "you know!" in that slick twangy sound that's practically the holy grail of American-ness. But she's not bad really. Like I said, I am beginning to like her. Especially when she makes sense.
Her most sound advice so far: “You’re thinking about changing people, there’s no room to be shy.”
And so tomorrow, I'm going to call those people up and follow up on my application.
Damn! I hate it when I don't get to post on the right date. But the inconvenience is definitely not enough to punish me for being such a horrible sister. I called my sis a while ago and she was like, "SOOOO you finally called!!!". It's funny really how we both know each others' voices when we have never lived in the same house for more than two months. Sisters just have an uncanny way of being "sisterly" (fuzzy feeling in stomach here).
Anyway, my sister was pissed, mad, angry with me (but I didn't make her cry this time)!!! I am a bad person! Even though she went to the wilderness of Montana for one of her nature excursions, at some point she was going to go back to Florida, and I was supposed to call her back by then to greet her a happy birthday. But I did call! I honestly did and I got your stupid machine. And then she says "not even an email". Oh I didn't realize that grizzly bears have access to the internet in their caves nowadays.
But seriously, I feel bad. Not because I didn't try, but I didn't try harder. So I apologized because it was the sisterly (and the decent) thing to do. I greeted her a belated happy birthday. She was still mad. She probably wouldn't forgive me in the next few months. But I could tell her heart softened a little bit. That's a good sign.
Now, I could just imagine the "smart" comments my brother-in-law is going to come up with once he gets home from work. I'm just grateful I'm not the one who married him.
* * *
Tuesday, July 08, 200311:22 PM of research methods and procreation
I usually collect unusual quotes or record unorthodox lesson discussions. Today in my subject called Research Methods in Political Economy, a discussion on variables and causal relationships ensued. The topic was "necessary and sufficient relationships between variables", the only example my somehow pervy imaginative professor could think of was "the act of procreation". Is the act of procreation, for example, a necessary and sufficient variable in the creation of human beings? Someone said it was, one girl said that love was an intervening variable, professor suggested marriage, then someone got biological by saying that the union of the sperm and the egg cell had to be considered also.
But one person made the whole class shut up and erupt in unharnessed gales of laughter seconds later after we realize the hilarity of his obviously un-thought-out question. He actually blurted out: Wait! Is that the only way to procreate?
Sure, Mark. Unless you know something we don't, that's what's being practiced in this planet.
I seem to have launched a one-woman-and-at-the-same-time-get-something-out-of-it movement to make people take advantage of their university privileges. I made Bundi register at the UA&P library today so we could get a letter to use the DLSU Library. When we got there, I got Karl Antz to register at the DLSU Lib so he could borrow books for me. Mwehehehe! Karl admitted earlier that it was the first time he borrowed books in the four years of his college life. See? I made you complete your university experience. That's a good thing.
And if ever nosy, bored professors look into your record, they'd be surprised at how you suddenly grew an interest in civil society-state relations out of nowhere.
Oh and may I just share how proud I am that I argued Bundi and I out of paying the P160 library fee? Yes I am brilliant.
I chose to wear red (UA&P's color) in the land of the green archers --- De La Salle University. At least nobody shot me. May I just share that I looked like the Philippine flag today? Yes, yes, yes, vanity is my favorite sin. So sue me. But I can't understand what possessed me to wear a red shirt with dark blue pants! At least the black cardigan gives the illusion that I wore a black top. Vain! vain! vain!!!! eeeewww!!
Anyway, Bundi took Bembol and me to DLSU so I can work on my 20-source annotated bibliography requirement due on Friday. I found some great sources that I'd want to read through. Thanks to Karl Antz, I got to borrow five books from the library.
And so we took my beautiful red Nissan Sentra to De La Salle University. Bundi so loved the car (since he drove it the whole time), he asked me, “so what did you name it?” I found the idea funny, but then I thought why not? I call my pc “baby” and my printer “sweetie” because I have this weird belief that they might turn against me if I am not affectionate to them (I would die instantly if something terrible happens to my files). And some people I know even name their brains (right ice?) so I christened my beloved bumble bee, "El Rojo". Why? Aside from the fact that rojo means red in Spanish and it sounds masculine enough, I really can't think of anything else.
Bundi then starts commenting that it sounds like this local bald actor's name "Bembol Roco". And given Bundi's uncanny talent in begetting nicknames, El Rojo became Bembol despite my loud protests. The name stuck in the end. And so Bembol it is.
I wonder how Bundi feels about the fact that he has a crush on something named "Bembol". Furthermore, isn't it somewhat incestuous to have a crush on a godson? I mean, Bundi is the godfather by default.
* * *
Monday, July 07, 20033:21 PM the weirdness of it all
I dreamt something really strange last night. I can't remember the exact details anymore no matter how hard I try (as what happens to most people and their dreams), but I recall that I was on a rickety boat and some guy hit me on the face. Because of the blow, I went into a coma. When I woke up, I found myself in the same rickety boat only I was abandoned in it. I went out on the deck and looked around, I was 50 meters away from the shore. I could see the seabottom filled with seaweeds in the dusky light, and I knew I had to walk on those icky things to get to the beach. It was low tide and the boat couldn't go anywhere else unless the water level would rise.
Next thing I knew, I was on the shore. It was already nighttime and I asked this man where I was. He told me in English that I was in a place called "Angsail" (pronounced "aang-sahy"). He asked me where I was from and I answered "Manila". He said that Angsail was way beyond Sulu in Mindanao. I wondered what date it was to which he replied "July 18th" and somehow, I knew that I climbed on the boat June 18, so I was practically unconscious for a month. I started to get hysterical, I was in another country a month later, how crazy is that?
And then the guy I was talking to gave me my cellphone and said he already called my mother. Now, that's freaky!
My geekiness gloriously shone last night when Soliloquy and I watched Star Trek Nemesis. We rented the video and the whole time I practically felt like a kid set loose in a candy store. I was smiling like crazy and I'm absolutely sure that if ever anyone was to see me grinning like that at midnight, there would be emotional or mental trauma involved. The sight of me going mental at midnight can pass for a horror movie.
But I seriously swear, I will own a complete set of episodes of The Next Generation --- my most favorite Star Trek series. Voyager would be nice too, but I really can't imagine Star Trek without Data. He sang in Nemesis by the way.
I strongly recommend this movie to anyone. You don't really need a good background of the series in order to enjoy the movie. The philosophy and the humanity behind the storyline is enough to satisfy your imagination and your intellectual curiosity.
Hey Augie! It was really nice to see you today. You look great despite the law-school-ness of law school. Yeah sure, I'll join you next year, as soon as I get my affairs in order.
And yeah, I did see lay-boy in mass today. He's still cute. And he still walks funny. No he's not the priest, he's just one of those guys that help in the communion pala. His bald friend smiled at me today. He and lay-boy himself and the priest went to Dulcinea for breakfast after the 7am mass. How do I know this? Stalking beats boredom any day.
After an irritating wake-up call at 6:15 in the morning, I had to wake everybody else up so we could hear mass on time. I was in a bad mood for a number of reasons that are not worth recalling. It was just a good thing I didn’t snap or else I wouldn’t be able to reach Greenbelt Chapel at all.
Soliloquy and I finally got a cab at a sidewalk near the hospital two blocks away from my flat. Our puffy eyes practically gave our sleepy disposition away. (But really, I don’t know what’s up with me. It wasn’t long ago that I never went to mass on Sundays, now I can’t remember a Sunday where I slept in.) The driver was so chatty, I can now tell you the following: his brother went to law school and kept his day job to raise his kids, it was so noisy in the house he studied in the bathroom through those four years. His (the driver) grandchild knows how to seriously fiddle with the computer even though he is still in kindergarten, and Nokia 3310s now cost P1,500 in Greenhills (US $25).
But what made me forget my bad mood was when he asked, ”mga doctora ho ba kayo?” (“Are you doctors?”) Hahahaha! I wish! So the puffy-eyed look plus the hospital-loading zone did the trick, huh?
* * *
Saturday, July 05, 200310:36 AM guess where I was yesterday!
I cut my class. I cut my class for the first time this semester. And it was a class with the institute director. Hehehe! I don't care. Really I don't. I just had to watch The San Miguel Master Chorale. Never mind the J-man, I can live without seeing him, but I won't be able to forgive myself if I missed the mini-concert.
And I so loved every minute of it. They had a great repertoire! Nightingale in Berkeley Square, Whitney Houston's I'll Be There, Elton John's Circle of Life (complete with animal sounds and African chants), When You Wish Upon A Star and more!
There is nothing like the sound of a choir singing in perfect harmony. It is one of the simple pleasures of being human. I seriously hope the University Chorale can sing like that.
Ever had a guy best friend? Yeah, one of those guys whom you talk to and laugh about anything and everything? You know, that aberration of the opposite species that happen to know your deepest, darkest secret but he's still around anyway coz you guys have a crazy chemistry of some sort. You can practically do crazy things in front of him without feeling the least bit embarassed, or if you do, he'd tease you to death until you just dismiss coz it's only him in the first place, and he is not exactly your romantic interest.
Or so you thought. How many novels and romantic-comedy movies out there instituted the "outspoken" law that girl-and-guy best friends are supposed to end up together? Does it really have to be that way? I'm best friends with a lot of guys and I don't fall madly in love with them. And if I ever start to look at a guy friend differently, I make sure that it changes nothing. I don't intend to ruin friendships especially if they involve me in them. And so I just bury whatever "feelings" and just get on with my life.
But what happens if the guy falls for you? Uh... no comment.
Anyway, I met his girlfriend last night. Even though he's my best friend and around five months ago, he practically kissed me on the lips that I was so appalled, things have changed. I believe I have now arrived at that moment where he will never me hug me or kiss me in the cheek whenever we see each other; coz yesterday, when I hugged him it sure felt awkward.
Maybe it's just a phase. Like those other girls. I am evil, I know.
It takes eons for my pc to download stuff on the screen. My baby of a computer even throws tantrums by not showing the pages right. There's always that tag, Done, but with Errors, pasted on the bottom of the freakin' explorer window. I am having a miserable time maneuvering through webpages and I am not hopping from one blog to another as often as I want to. This is torture! I can take how my mouse gave up in extreme exhaustion, but my pc is being very delinquent. I need speed, I need maneuverability, I need FREEDOM!
Now, if only my baby would just agree with me.
* * *
Wednesday, July 02, 20037:05 PM happy birthday, sis
It was my sister's birthday yesterday. I didn't get to greet her. Such a bad sister I am huh? But wait! I've got a reason. I couldn't greet her because as far as the two of us know there aren't any telephone lines or cell sites in the middle of the woods in Montana! Heck, she told me last year there was no electricity except an occasional lightning or two. Now, if I can send a message through ESP or maybe a long distance carrier pigeon that wouldn't get attacked by the hawks or falcons in that part of the US, then, I could have probably greeted her a happy birthday, no problem.
Can you believe that my cousin's husband's nephew is Jimmy Bondoc?!? This is my first cousin I'm talking about. Her husband is the honest-to-goodness brother of Jimmy Bondoc's mother. Now I know stories about Jimmy's childhood that the public have yet to find out.
For the first time in two years, I think, I went to a dinner party to celebrate my dad’s sister’s birthday. I have now a social life. This is what political economy took away from me and now I am making up for it --- even if it means getting knee-deep in the snake pit.
My dad’s other sister practically exclaimed, “how nice to see you here!” when she saw me. Have I really been avoiding away from them so long? It is really no mystery: I don’t like my relatives, especially the birthday celebrant. (I mean, I love them, but that doesn’t mean I have to like them). I feel inexplicably out of place in a roomful of socialites and tonight I was the usual wallflower.
But thank God, my married cousins were there. (I am the last of the cousins who is not married since I am practically the age of their sons and daughters). And they weren’t so bad. I am actually crazy about them, but not about their mothers. I hate it when my aunts all ask me, “do you have a boyfriend already?”, and then they all get shocked if I say no. But I distinctly remember that at some time ago when I said yes I was the hot topic for months. It’s enigmatic how they have the same reactions to both answers. What? Do you want me to have a boyfriend or don’t you? And what’s the deal about having one? You’d rather ask about my nonexistent love life instead of everything else.
The riddles of the family snake pit --- I’m glad I survived.
* * *
"There are things out there that I want to discover, that one day this will all make sense... I am searching for the meaning of this cosmic existence that we're in. And
probably when I find the answer, I'll go and look for the anti-thesis."
5 THINGS
1. I sing in the University Chorale of the University of Asia & the Pacific, and we swept four gold medals in Greece for our very first International Competition. I got to do my two absolute favorite things: singing and traveling.
2. Although I am an Alto Two, my range widens up to Soprano One when I am drunk. Think Charlotte Church's Flower Duet. (I think it has something to do with swallowing the diaper pin when I was a baby). Dancing barefoot in debut parties may also be expected.
3. I work in an non-government organization focused on private sector development. It involves sleepless nights in the office and the constant worry of displeasing a former Secretary of Finance. My other two bosses are harmless.
4. I like my men in uniform. The Military has always been a fascination of mine even before when I was finishing a BA degree in Political Economy.
5. I no longer watch The Bold and the Beautiful much to the joy of friends and family.
