Lights Show

Saturday night, I witnessed giant technicolor explosions in the sky. Carla did have a really explosive birthday, a fitting celebration to her XXth year on earth. At the Fort Open Grounds, I craned my neck whilst holding a camera under a small umbrella with another person: Gelay. Rain poured through the night, and the sky was just above our heads.

After (failed) attempts at night photography, I just surrendered. Making mental pictures of the fireworks display is better.  The lights show goes by so fast that being behind the lens disables you from capturing the ephemeral, the wondrous reality of experiencing the magic of fireworks and music. Before the night ended, I have wished upon a million pixie dust.

More pictures here.

Goodbye, September

Hide and Seek, Vigan City, September 2009

1. Yeah, right, I say

“Although a lot of things in your life might seem to be a little off target and in need of serious “tweaking”, you are coming into a period of a few days that will give… you a glimpse of freedom that you have not had for a long time, Virgo. So many of the situations that have cause delays and obstacles to your progress are about to fall aside and make room for your progress. So many of the people who have wondered how and when your plans would succeed are about to be shocked, and during the next few days, you may even surprise yourself: do not marginalize any of your ideas, or forget to follow up on your plans. This could be the beginning of a new life.

Personal changes should be made during the next four weeks, Virgo. Anything having to do with change of appearance, such as hair styling, cosmetic surgery, rebuilding a wardrobe… or getting rid of bad habits will be very favorable. In fact, because Saturn is so powerful right now, quitting a bad habit or old style of dress or hair is a perfect use of this energy. Your popularity is bound to be high at this time, but people can be infamous as well as famous. With the planetary configurations in power now, chances are very good that the old patterns holding you back will be broken and you will take advantage of this wonderful combination.”

Horoscope of the Day

2. Life in status updates:

… has improved her typing skill, but still fell short of a thousand words. She wonders how she could ever expound this single thought: a yearning for mores in a setting far, far away, and not appear desperate about this long-standing desire, her everyday day dream.

…vented out her frustrations, real and imagined, and felt really, really good afterwards. The beauty of pouring out all your pent-up emotions on paper is that you do not have to bother anyone, but with someone who is willing to listen, it comes with well thought-of replies.

… failed to articulate what she wanted to say, and almost got lost in her thinking process. She over thinks all the time, and sometimes, cannot keep up with her mind. She needs to shut her mouth first and then please, let her speak – freely. Don’t mind her hand gestures, too.

… frets over the fact that she was not able to know you even if your very essence was presented by your veritable nearness. Your scent, your taste, your contour escapes me now, too. Distance, which is usually my defense, became a weakness. Regrets do always come late.

… watched a movie, a Pinoy comedy flick, twice on the big screen. She thinks that this hints of the likely: a need for a quick comic drug on her already flailing emotional system. Escapist tendencies aside, she thinks that Eugene Domingo deserves more acting roles.

…thought that she has seen, or experienced, the worst for typhoons are a natural occurrence in the typhoon path she calls home, but last weekend, crashing in the second-floor unit of her aunt and watching homes and cars get submerged below, she believed otherwise.

…(secretly) loves dancing, or flailing her arms and jumping around to the beat of happy music. Her body rhythm acts up immediately when in the company of shiny, happy people, around complete strangers, singing, shouting, and perspiring, and after a few drinks, or a bottle of beer.

…toys with the idea of becoming a permanent vacationer, or being employed at a vacation destination, after October. Question is: Where to? I am also seriously considering going back to Bicoland,  and find a work there (and stay at my parents’ house).  I am confused again.

3. I turned 24, but I like to believe that I am still a teenager, so that I can have all the excuse in the world. It’s time to get the err, groove, back on and get rid of the Peter Pan Complex, or Arrested Development phase though.

Ramble Grumble

From an old college notebook I kept:

Points to Ponder

1. Fantasies always fail in the realm of the real.
2. Desire is not after attaining the desire, but to reproduce it .
3. Narcissism is crucial to the achievement of desire.
4. Desire is to avoid coming in full contact to the real.
5. Presence of demand acknowledges the lack of something.

Some people have suffered the burden of my ramblings, the unmistakable hint of my daily humdrum misery and the inescapable impact of everything banal, which may have left them hanging on the edge of their seats with the question “What is it again this time?” or made their eyes roll, coupled with “Oh no, not again.”

I am thankful that those people have always tolerated me, though, given that they are my friends, whose sole obligation in my life is to appease me when I am in the mood to throw in the proverbial towel; to risk what is already there and provoke what is out there; to rant on and poke fun on everything stupid and frustrating, especially people.

Here I go again. The dilemma: WTFAIGDWML? Hello cheesiness. Hello Rick Warren, I need a copy of your goddamn book, which I have yet to consider as part of my to-buy list. Hi author of the book that sits on my bookshelf, the one that has been titillating me with his gaze, I think I am a perfect guinea pig for your broken social experiments.

Surely, this is what I have asked for in 2008.

An escape from the so-called soullessness, the vacuum that sapped the energy out of me, while in the confines of corporate despair hood, of the eight-hour daily shift, cluttering the World Wide Web with pages upon pages of information that will only be proved meaningful by Technorati, et al.

Or: the laissez faire lifestyle that freelancing endorses, but not guarantees, of the hundreds of hours inhabiting the living room, feeding on mind-numbing drivel coming out of the TV, the vacuous ness of 24/7 internet frenzy, and the long intermittent hours spent on kjdskadjskadskajdska.

Am I a Change Junkie?

Further questions loom.

Goddamn Right It’s a Beautiful Day

Bear with me: I’ll be spending five minutes of my oh-so-precious time doing one of my not-so-favorite pastimes, which is ranting. That and updating my online accounts. Shameless activity, so what? Unlike this guy, I do not think that it’s the end of humanity. Just a bit. Wait till I get tired of it, though, because I am giving myself a week. Now let me go on with the subject of my recent loathing, which shall be unnamed because I have made the mistake of not keeping my anonymity and therefore, being open to derision once this post is known.

Ha, kissing ass entails harboring shame, guilt – crappy feelings that would make you vomit your entrails and wash your mouth afterwards with detergent. So when was the last time I kissed ass and licked my lips afterwards? Nothing comes to mind, really. But I admit: even if I do not give a shit about that mole hanging on your face or whatever it is that’s making you lovesick, I still have to be a social nice-y. Because, simply put, I belong to the bottom part of the chain or pyramid, which is not the best position if you want to take control of the situation.

Which really sucks big time. If you are consistently being on an entry level, then there’s no way you will do what you think you have to do your way. Like you have to wait for an answer that would only need a head twitch.  Like you have to wait for what, a minute probably, before your presence is acknowledged. Fuck, counting 1234 has never been this fun. And don’t tell me you’re busy, because I know your share of shenanigans.

Demmet.

Resist Psychic Death

No, I am not listening to Bikini Kill. I am just taking a break from my usual routine.

Amy Winehouse’s Back to Black is playing on repeat; that girl, she’s got real talent, but she’s being a train wreck. Seatmate, on the other hand, is playing The Godfather theme. Apparently, Slash, ex-Guns N’ Roses lead guitarist and current member of Velvet Revolver, has a version. I did not recognize it at first, but after listening intently, oh right, I remember that theme. I haven’t seen the Trilogy for years now. I remember having a DVD copy, albeit pirated, of Al Pacino movies, though. If only I can remember where I placed it; Seatmate’s asking for a copy of Scarface.

Bummer. The week’s about to end, but I still have not done anything completely substantial, of course, project-wise. Projects and side projects are piling-up, virtually, on my (okay, it’s a pun) desktop. The weekend’s going to be very splendid. Now I feel like wanting to kick myself in the head for being such a languid ass during the past few days. Screw Perez Hilton for always tempting me to read his slew of Hollywood drivel before I go to bed. Nevertheless, a stay-at-home weekend’s totally okay because next week, I’m going to switch to v-v-vacation mode.

I am back to social networking sites, by the way, my – counts fingers – readers. I just signed-up at Facebook after receiving an invitation. You, you, and anyone who was included in my network of friends back in my now-deleted Friendster, Myspace, and Eskwela accounts, do add me up. Ok, this has become a very pathetic invitation – a shameless way to plug.

Naming Objects and Other Matters

The Posies is singing Love Comes, my favourite song of the week, as I qwerty on my new buddy, whose name I have not decided yet. I initially thought of naming “it” Mercedes. Why the old name Mercedes? I don’t know. Or maybe I should name “it” Zach to be masculine. Either way, both names top my virtual list of names for my digital notebook. Yes, finally a laptop, after drooling on for so long!

The next big thing I want to buy: a digital SLR. I am really envious of Jas, who has her own dSLR. Unlike Jas’s father, my father would not buy something out of impulse. I have to prepare a persuasive speech, including a well-thought of plan on how I would pay it. Nothing comes free now that I am earning my own money. Target month of dSLR purchase: this September in time for my 22nd birthday.

So starting next month until heavens know when, I will be depriving myself of random splurges, costly meals, mall trips, and even cell phone load to pay for monthly instalments, aside from daily costs, internet bills, and travel expenses. (Since my current work arrangement allows me to divide my time between Quezon City and Cam Sur, I have resolved to go home at least once a month.)

Anyhoo, earlier today, I have inquired about the Wifly offer of my internet service provider. The offer, which is for an additional P199, supposedly allows users to have unlimited wifi access nationwide. However, it’s only available to certain hotspots. Checking the Airborne Access wifi pathfinder reveals only a select coverage. This sucks because this means resorting again to dial-up or trooping to establishments with wifi access once I go home, which is now only days away.

Now my question is: Is there a way I could access the internet at home, without subscribing to another internet service provider or sticking to dear ole’ dial up? Like a device that I would just plug into my laptop and voila, yahoo! Accessing the internet through 3G cell phone service is not feasible since I do not have a cell phone with 3G to begin with.

Help, anyone?

Blogging as a form of pysching up against a bloody ordeal

For so long, I have been putting off chances to donate blood. I have been invited many times by random individuals involved in blood donation drives but I always had lame excuses. Though blood donation for charitable reasons is one of my dorky must-do things, I still haven’t mustered enough courage. Having a needle inserted into my skin to get liters of blood is, for me, synonymous to getting sucked by a big, blood-thirsty fly.

However, the situation is calling for it. I need to get tested, and if my blood is compatible to my cousin’s, I will be sharing some of it. Today might have been the day; I was told to go to the hospital to have my blood tested. However, a small inquiry has denied me so. The doctor explained to me that fertile females should donate at least a week after their last day of menstruation lest their hemoglobin level will sink low.

I have heaved a sigh of relief but this bloody ordeal has not yet ended. For the meantime, I am psyching myself up since giving a few pints of my blood is the right thing to do.

Update: Finally donated 450 cc of blood. It was scary. Really. I will spare every one about the (gory) details.

Copyright 2006. All Rights Reserved.

Someone Close To Me will go Through an Operation and She Needs to be well

Learning about my five-year-old cousin’s need for a heart operation came as a total surprise. Though I have known ever since that my cousin Toyang has a congenital heart disease, I never imagined that she will be going through a surgical operation. I have always thought that she only needs a regular check-up. It never occurred to me that the check-ups will ultimately lead to a major operation.

Being pulled-out from her class even if it is only weeks before her graduation in pre-school is a glaring sign that an immediate operation is necessary. She had been sick for a week, and she was hospitalized before they went here in Manila. By tomorrow, she will be admitted at the Philippine Heart Center for the operation. I hope every thing goes well. The two holes in her heart should be successfully and permanently repaired.

Copyright 2006. All Rights Reserved.

I love my brother that is why I am declining his request

My dear brother, who is in college, is asking me to do his take home essay exam in his English class. An argumentative essay, he instructed. Last time he asked me for an “academic” favor, he had me answer his entire final exam. Again, a take home exam in his English class.

I did the latter because our dear mother prodded me to help him out. I was not doing anything at home, my mother reasoned out. So out of sisterly love, I answered his college-level essay exam with high school-level responses whilst patiently making elementary-like handwriting.

My brother, the typical school sloth that he is, does not actually like slaving his ass off to get a decent grade. Back in elementary and high school, he had his own secretaries: his girl classmates who answered his class assignments and wrote down his teachers’ lessons for him.

I am not going to do his exam. He said that he was already through writing his narrative, analytic, and descriptive essays so I guess he can do his argumentative essay all by himself. As far as I know, I am already through with school and the last thing I would like to do is make a three-page, 12-font size, single-space essay.

Besides, it would be called cheating and I would not like to be an accomplice to an “academic” crime. Again.

Copyright 2006. All Rights Reserved.

confessions of a bum

what could have been a productive nine day stay at bicol was spent practically on the art and science of aBUMination. Except for that one-day trip at Tiwi, Albay (thesis-thesisan), I have done nothing but sleep, eat, watch tv, turn the radio on, and clown around with my little cousins (and the occasional laundry, washing dishes and bed-keeping duties). Except for that day when I went to the telephone company to apply for internet connection, I have never ventured out of our house (and compound) and meet people other than my family.

Watching myself in the mirror makes me cringe as I see the effects of too much bumming around (I mean not so active work) since the semester ended. I feel that my face has swollen, and that there are bulges around my body. My mom kids about my nose being flat, having been exaggerated by my swollen face. I don’t look that bad, mind you.

Copyright 2006. All Rights Reserved.