It's here

WHEREAREYOULEO.blogspot.com is the new address!!

I promise, it will be better.

Three hundred sixty posts later....

I decided to make a new blog. And this is the 361st post. Of course, out of sheer sanity, I won't delete this one. Those 360 posts couldn't be recreated in one day and I value my time. I won't throw away a few year's work out the window for moving out.

To make this somewhat abandonment less literal:

Lets pretend I'm insanely rich. I'm just buying a new house but not selling the old one. Being insanely rich, I won't bring anything from the old house to the new one, instead, I'll buy new stuff for the new house. Sounds appropriate.

The important thing is I'm putting up a map here so it won't be hard to drive to my new house.  The question is when.

Soon enough. After I actually buy the new house, fix the papers and know the address.

(It could have been easier if it was less figurative but where is the fun in that? It would be sadder saying "leave this blog" "moving to a new blog" "away from this blog" rather than "buying a new house" "living in the new house". I'm a genius at dressing up sad news. I need a TV show!)

I'm so bored

because everything is so boring. I can't find anything to blog about.

in house arrest

I'm having a horror of a headache, sore muscles and numb eyes. I look like refuse from a war but the only thing I have been physically fighting with are my pillows and bed. It has finally came, the paralysis of anticipation.

Weh. I just made up a name for the increasingly frequent days of being in house arrest. I just spent more than a standard day under the roof of our dwelling without any desire to get out into the sun. With an internet connection, who needs the outside? Well, actually, I do. The headache must be punishment from too much rest, sore muscles from being as playful as a dead log and the numbness around the eyes must be from the marination in radiation courtesy of my laptop screen.

College will be arriving in less than two weeks. Two whole weeks will not be able to prepare me for several years in college. The beginning will come and after it, a lot of years being in the middle. I can't be blamed for turning myself into a caveman. This is excitement and fear taking over.

BTW: Tomorrow, I will be heading out into our dwelling deep in the boondocks. I will be sorting out the rest of the things I will bring with me to the capital city. My mother has contacted a brave soul who will refine my driving skills. Let us all hope for patience from him. 

The Bipolar Fingers of a Warring Mind

Please don't read previous posts. My attempt at writing without inspiration are utter failures that reading those posts myself makes me want to cover my face with a bag. The way I write can be extremely bipolar. On one post, I'm very happy and humorous then dead serious on another one. I hope this is just a phase and I'll get over it - or at least the shift in mood occurs with a pattern. Moody Mondays, Serious Sundays, Funny Fridays, Trashy Tuesdays etc.

I've been reading the Life of Pi for the past few days and my mother made me promise I read at a slower, more stable pace. If given time (which is presently abundant), I could read a book in a day and instead of resting after an ending, I crave for another book. Of course, a financial burden. I am deeply sentimental. If I finish a book, my head turns into mush if I don't digest another one. Its like eating Shakey's Mojos and thhe basket suddenly runs out of supply so the mind goes into a state of delusion. This happened when I finished "Catcher in the Rye". I was trembling, looking for something to fight the post-book, cranial turmoil with (which temporarily was Hyperion by Dan Simmons). Just another proof of my broken sanity.

I also have weird thought patterns when it comes to purchasing. I want something and start imaging how hard my life is having to live without it, further convincing myself into needing. Then I ask for funds which I would have to wait for. While in the wait, I fantasize about how life would be so much more wonderful after buying the thing which by now, I could have needed just like everyone needs being loved. Then when I get the money, I get a last look before the purchase, all the wanting turns into cautious worrying. What if I buy this and its not worth the money? What if my financiers' support meant pain for them? What if I'll get tired of this item which a while ago I needed so much? Now, this proves a broken sanity is optimism.

My mother allowed me to drive the car from our small trip to the mall. By then, I was pretty confident with my skills in driving. In first gear, I nearly bumped into a lifeless car parking a few meters away from ours. I spent the standard few hours in driving school. I think this figures I need at least a decade worth of driving practice. Very, very sad.

Life of Pi by Yann Martel

To continue the trend of reading books repeatedly suggested then ignored, I bought the book Life of Pie to ward off boredom for the next few days.

Six millions copies in print. International acclaim, popular in over than 40 countries. 2002 Man Booker Prize winner. Probably one of the books where I end with, "Damn, I should have read that a long time ago!"

Kung Fu Panda 2

I watched Kung Fu Panda 2. After the movie, I was confused whether I watched the movie because I wanted to see it OR because I wanted to try the cool mobile phone-scanning ticket printer.

The movie’s screening schedule wasn’t so convenient that if I will avoid buying the pricier, 3D seat (which often entailed serious migraine afterwards), I had to either skip taking a bath or come home the next day. My eyes weren’t so happy when I decided to buy tickets for the 3D version. 

The thing is I don’t really enjoy cinema in 3D. Instead of being realistic, they just look slightly ‘cooler’. It looked more like a diorama than a scene actually happening in front of you. I’ve seen movies especially made in 3D in Singapore and Indonesia. They were usually shorts and it’s there you actually experience having virtual objects thrown at you all the time and there is way more action than the dioramas in cinemas.

WHAT I THINK ABOUT KUNG FU PANDA 2:

It wasn’t completely a waste of time if I wanted to waste my time in the first place. Although I didn’t expect much art from a movie set in historical China where all society figures were zoo animals, I also didn’t expect shallowness. 

It is hard to imagine they are all Chinese. Photo from here.

A lot of animation films have scripts suited to cater to an extremely wide age bracket. That is how they become successful and appealing. If you watched those films as a child and watch it again as an adult, its almost as good as watching two different movies. KF Panda 2 (I can’t even be bothered to type in the full name all the time) wasn’t like that.

It was a little too shallow although they were parts that made me laugh. But when the laughter dies down, I go back to the flat, comatose state.

Jodi Picoult's Handle With Care

My first Picoult experience was watching My Sister's Keeper, a movie made from one of her bestselling novels. A friend suggested I read another book by hers called "House Rules", a story about a boy with Asperger's syndrome being tried for homicide. I was at the shelf, holding a copy of that book when my gut-feel replaced it with Handle With Care, still Picoult's.

For one, Picoult has a fascination with stories revolving around families with someone severely disabled in them. My Sister's Keeper, House Rules and Handle With Care all deal with sickness. Come to think of it, its easy to understand why.

Disabilities in children are no one's fault. You have a problem but you can't really find a definite beginning or end. Its given to you and you just bear it, you can't complain or find a solution because it won't bring any good. Its painful, dramatic, complex and touching. Its a perfect formula for an appealing bestseller -- but I am not saying that it is an easy formula to brew.

Picoult is a very good writer. Her ability to imagine her characters, give enough backbone to them and make them all seem real is just exceptional. There were parts of the book where I would sigh because of heartbreak. She writes so well, simple and very human that along the pages you forget it  is all just fiction. But that is what makes a good fiction writer, the ability to make everything so real.

The book is about Willow, a child with osteogenesis imperfecta (OI). It is a very rare congenital disease caused my mutation in the genes. Its no one's fault, not even genetics. It just happens. Willow is a wonderful character, very young, but can't be normal because OI has made her bones severely brittle, a simple bump will cause a fracture. Everyone loves her, especially ridiculous hospital bills.

Desperate to achieve her desire of giving Willow a comfortable future, Charlotte, her mother, sues her obstetrician, coincidentally Charlotte's best friend, for money. The law suit becomes a huge controversy and begins to question everyone's beliefs and ultimate desires.


The book is presented in a way understanding each character's view clearly is extremely easy. Appropriate because in stories like these, there is a lot of understanding to do. Willow's father, older sister, mother, the obstetrician Piper, her husband and daughter, going through a tough time because not all children are born perfect to the world, but each one is born perfect to a mother.

****

The story is good, the method of storytelling is exceptional. I can't imagine how the characters could have been introduced or built better. I fell into the world of the story. It was heartbreaking and its a very bad book if you can't handle the tough side of reality. Its also a big book, perfect for lazy summer days.

Well, it wasn't really fun given the whole plot. Everything you expect from a book with a suffering child is there - but there is a lot more. When you buy it then read it, its really easy to understand why it is a bestseller.

Lucky, Lucky Me

I went into Starbucks (Iloilo) today to get a caffeine kick and something to chew while I read Jodi Picoult's "Handle with Care". I was pleased to know they can use soy milk for brews for a small fee. The cashier smiled when their machine's printer started spitting out a long receipt for my routine Caramel Macchiato for "David".

"Congratulations sir. You won a coupon for a free drink next time you come around. Just go to our website..."

Her voice trailed off as I contemplated on how the cosmos had been especially kind to me for the past few days.

"These coupons come up randomly and rarely.Congratulations again, sir!"

I felt the Starbucks crew was almost genuinely happy for me. Its just I have been very lucky lately.

Just like dogs

My favorite favourite band.

500 Days of Summer

To save myself from breaking my sanity against the eccentricities of psychological thrillers, I sometimes dip into the genre of love. Romance isn't really my thing as I have sworn to celibacy, that is until I finally get the hard kick of needing a partner. As of now, the internet, coffee and good friends keep me full and content. Well, most of the time.

I have heard of 500 Days of Summer a couple of times already. I'm the type of person who dips myself into a lot of communication, usually paying a brutal amount of attention, then having less than the required inspiration to actually do things - things like watching films plastered with good reviews. 500 Days of Summer appealed to me only when I saw a link for the trailer on YouTube (bizarre, given its not really new). On the trailer it said it was an entry to the Sundance Film Festival. That hit me. I enjoy festival films. 

So I got a copy and started watching it. What I had in mind was 500 days of courting, blah blah blah, a calendar-based pointing out of how a boy learns to love a girl and how 'love' is so incomprehensible. But no. It got straight to the point. Boy falls in love with a girl who doesn't give a damn about the relationship. Boy thinks they could get over a  break-up, girl ends up marrying another guy. All the while, the girl is perfect. So the boy is the loser. Well of course, until the last part that is.

I imagine it as the ideal break-up movie. If you and your future life partner suddenly had to walk on different paths, to never meet again, it would be heart breaking. I find sitting in front of the TV, watching this film beside an Everest of tissue paper, digging in a pail of ice cream or/and chugging down a city's supply of alcohol the sanest way to get over a relationship. I've never been committed then broken enough to do this but thanks to this movie, I already have plans.

Lesson learned: Skip the drama. Be rational. Know where you are standing and if the ground falls apart, look into the dark side. Its a mind thing. Every wonderful nice girl has another angle (except, maybe, Drew Barrymore and Georgina Wilson). In fact, everyone has a side that stinks. So if someone gives you shit and you think fighting back is futile/immature/too much physical activity, just shatter their image in your mind. Again, the brain is powerful. A little tweaking can really make you happy. Perspective, perspective.

About fate, I'm not really sure I believe in the power of the cosmos. Coincidence must happen once in a while, doesn't it? 

Have you seen my COPY? HAVE YOU seen it?? Have you!?

I read the book in a span of two weeks. Its a vivid, infinitely-detailed telling of a small fraction in the life of Holden Caulfield. A character so odd that it took me the whole book to realize that we have more similarities than I imagined. He is either representing a phase or a layer that exists in all of us all the time.

After I read the last lines, I was sent into this whirlwind. I wanted to throw up, I was shaking and felt very uncomfortable. I felt like my insides were scooped out and replaced by a whole begging for something. I went to the mall to find another book to get rid of the hangover and all the time, my eyes were out of focus and it felt as if half of me does not belong to the world of my senses. It was really weird and for a while, I feared that I'll become obsessed with this book. I feel like the chances of me waking up tomorrow hugging my copy isn't very slim.

In my present state I can't really make a review so here is a link. Its my friend's article on the Philippine Star. The book has been repeatedly suggested to me by a lot of pop culture references and friends so when I saw her get one, I finally complied.  

Now on to Jodi Picoult's Handle With Care. Its my first time to actually read something from her. In the store, Handle With Care sat beside House Rules, also authored by her. Both deal with children who have diseases. I think I'll enjoy the emotional roller coaster she can deliver. I don't understand how in evolution, the enjoyment of melancholy by fiction became entertaining.

Pirates of the Caribbean: On Stranger Tides

A real world conversation between an honest mother and a son:

Son: I want to be an actor, mom.

Mother: Well, you can be an actor! Just work hard for your goal.


Son: I want to be someone really good. Someone like.... Johnny Depp.

Mother: Oh! You know what? I think the family needs a doctor. Go wash the dishes while I fill up your applications for med school!
 

I am a fan of Johnny Depp. If you can give flesh and heart to a character I can hardly imagine exist, you must be a very good actor. 

I just watched Pirates of the Caribbean: On Stranger Tides, the fourth of the series, and I couldn't be more happier. First of all, I'm not a Pirates fanboy so I don't have a lot of context to work with. For me, the film was terrific. There was a fight scene coupled with wonderful score that kept me seating at the edge of my seat. Almost impossible because I grab all the comfort I can in movie theaters.

It was a good movie. The same formula: astounding visuals, beautiful musical score, wonderful cast and a good story.

Things I need to note: (can be a little spoiler)

Astrid Berges-Frisbey

She will be a captive mermaid. Her face, her voice and her acting will all contribute to a wonderful, heart-piercing character.And she's French. Although the mermaids were shown as monsters, I had new-found respect for them because of her.

Gemma Ward

Also a mermaid. The scene where she appears, be prepared to see goosebumps all over your body. Beauty all over the screen. And horrific screaming comes afterwards. We all love supermodels. But at first I thought she was really Amanda Seyfreid.

Although I had thoughts of delivering a shovel of popcorn into the throat of this cocky, conceited teenager who just had to tell everyone around him what is happening on screen. It was lucky that he went in to see a very good film with me. If we watched "In The Name of Love" together, he could have went home an Avox. Those type of people should be banned from cinemas.

Parents are amazing

My family's routine has been the same for the past few days. To save on electricity, we all migrate to SM City and immerse ourselves in the mall's free air conditioning. 

My parents have been seriously busy for the past few weeks and these are the times when they can unwind until another set of tasks come up. My father is in Manila for one of his favorite 'shows' in Araneta.

Yesterday, we left at around 8:30 AM for our 2-hour trip towards our dwelling in the boondocks of Sara. We reached our destination at around 6:30 PM because my mother had to go to several places for errands. There were times she looked awfully tired and declared her intentions of sleeping soundly the coming bedtime. Traveling is a big part of my parent's job.

After we arrived at our house in Sara, a call came up and we needed to return to the city the next day. Of course, it didn't sound too good. I do not really fancy traveling by land but we all had to go. So we arrived at the city, went to the mall, mailed my dorm confirmation to Ateneo, and cooled off at a resto. 

While on the car she was telling me she knows that her schedule can be very hectic and she can be very tired sometimes, but she also told me she enjoys being that way. If there is one thing in this world she dreads, it is staying at home, doing chores. 

I find that amazing. While I'm a sloth crawling on the bed, to my laptop and sporadically eating, she is running around to do things that actually matter. Still, I'm the one complaining all the time. I haven't even finished Catcher in the Rye!

This is my example on the gap of understanding between the offspring and the offspringer.

Also another thing:

Coco Mademoiselle by CHANEL

The perfume above was given by one of my mother's friend. Coco Mademoiselle was endorsed by Natalie Portman in a wonderfully neat film about women. This bottle is still full. Everyone enjoys using the Bench Daily Splash perfume instead which was once, unfortunately, endorsed by Willie Revillame. 

Now, let me mine for explanations.

The Sloth and Acronyms

These are from a few days ago. Pictures coupled with a dose of sloth often leads to late blog posts.

May 12, 2011 - I bought a national daily and in the front page:

A reminder that fangirling conquers all, even giant differences in age.

Kudos to the girl. The national paper! Wow. Cheering for a teenage pop star can never be more rewarding than having your photo end up on the front page of a national newspaper, with your fingers snapped in a twisted Asian pose. True expression of admiration, delight and of course, culture.

While reading the paper, I received a text message from the Bureau of Internal Revenue. Of course, I was humbled.

They made a raffle for something as trivial as getting your receipt after purchase. So the only way out of poverty in the Philippines is hard work -- or you can join the boatloads of raffle draws available.

La Mesa Grill - Iloilo

My brain can't think of anything to write about so, to avoid anymore failures to blog, I present dinner at La Mesa Grill.

La Mesa is a wonderful place - if you belong to a group of noisy, meat-eating friends. 

Its not for intimate dinners or for banquet celebrations of someone's baptismal. Its a place for dinner-before-getting-wasted and reunions. The food, which are all local favorites, are excellent and the menu variations, pricing etc. are well done.

It was someone's birthday and opening it with your declaration of being vegetarian, in a place who prides itself of grilling meat, isn't really a good idea (and this is the spot where some vegetarians are seen as rude and preachy.) I had to eat meat.

So I focused on the seafood. I had little bites of chicken and pork but the volume I consumed of the two combined can still be dwarfed by a 5-year-old's thumb. It was more of tasting than actually eating, just checking if what I remember are still true.

So overall, its a noisy, boisterous restaurant where loud fun will be welcomed. The food is great and the service is not bad either. The place is also cozy but I forgot to take pictures. Simply put, its not worth missing.

La Mesa Grill is open daily, sandwiched between Starbucks and Moon (or is it Mooon) Cafe in SM City Iloilo SouthPoint. SouthPoint is a very tricky name given the building doesn't resemble a point, standing between Plazuela and SM.

I never knew I would be saying this

but I would love to be a pig. I need protein!

The picture above was taken at the arrival area of the Cagayan de Oro Airport. The perfect way to lure tourists is through roasted pig versions of wagyu, they must have agreed.

No one asks but I answer anyhow

I was at my favorite local cafe today. You can see on the back one of the number of shelves filled with wonderful books available for reading. Click this link and on the lower right corner you will see the location of this coffee house extraordinaire.

 

I was at the coffee shop to reunite with on of their books I fell in love with and to meet a friend who is going to lend me the last book of the Hunger Games Trilogy. The second book has been with me for over two months already but I actually just finished it one and a half hour after midnight today. I have read two or three chapters of it over five times already because I have been trying to read the book but then I end up forgetting about it. A few days later, I would remember then forget again.

I am not really a bookworm. While a lot of people find entertainment in reading, I consider it a chore. It takes me some active effort to read - but reading is worth doing when the material is precious. So I am very selective and my taste is very specific but inconstant. When I get tired or lose interest in a book, I don't feel guilt letting go of it halfway used. The Hunger Games trilogy, in one of its final twists to become a political drama in a dystopian landscape, revived my desire.

So why even bother reading when it is a chore? Because I still feel like a kid with a new toy every time I learn something new. You could imagine me as the weirdo who smiles sporadically in front of a book. I feel happiness and awe every time I spot a clever idea. These ideas usually deal with the real world and when I agree, I start recalling personal empirical proofs. My brain goes "Aha. That's right, girl/boy!".

I'm sure there is something more specific a term than bookworm for people who look into books as hope for their sanity. Without books, I couldn't have realized that I am not entirely unique, that it is possible I am living in a world where my brainwaves do not necessarily have to crash with all the others - that there are those who think parallel. Its not because those whose brain works similar to mine are good writers and are strong with words, its just there are those who are good writers and are willing to tell every other one like them that they are not alone. And that their comfort comes during a chore

 

I'm off reading the last of the Hunger Games and I'm looking forward to the film adaptation. 

 

I had several reads that became movies. People often whine about the movie ripping off the book. Technically, you can't really rip a movie.

Protein deficient in the Garden of Eden

Excuse the nudity. I was just actualizing my visions of the Garden of Eden and I am pissed off. I'm afraid the shirt I was wearing would go up in flames if I didn't take it off and we must admit that we enjoy the comfort of bare skin when we are alone.

My haircut sucks. I looked into the mirror and I see history staring back. I look like an infusion of a Nazi and an extinct mammal. My vision of clean sides and extreme top backfired into a membership to a political party. Back in the barber shop, when the barber declared proudly that his work is done, I restrained myself from scalping him.

If you are vegetarian, you will probably die of muscle atrophy in Iloilo. I looked for vegetarian protein supplements. I particularly wanted Rice Protein but the store suggested I take a weight gain milk mix. For the second time today, I had to restrain myself from doing something illegal (arson).

I don't have anything to say anymore.

Recesionista, in brief

One of the few things I remember from childhood is the painful, snappy bite of electrocution.

We have this small version of a refrigerator, the size of a 3-storey stack of textbooks. It opens through a single hinge door on the top side and it was designed to work with the plugs in cars, the ones with the cigarette symbol embossed on its cover (Although I have to note that the lighted cigarette symbol has disappeared through time).

To make the long story short, I converted that small ref into one that could work inside my room using a normal household plug. My materials were wires from a resigned string of Christmas lights, a roll of black electrical tape and an AC-DC adaptor we normally used for an old Gameboy color. My father actually noticed the box working inside my room and suggested we had the small ref's freon be refilled. What he missed was the amount of instances I got electrocuted.

Since I was a kid, I have learned the do's and don'ts but I'm not really sure where this falls:

Internet, meet my laptop adaptor.

I have pulled his cord a little bit too much that he gave up on me about half a year ago. I cut him open, rearranged the wires and wrapped the whole thing in electrical tape. A few months ago, the tape got destroyed so gathering up all the resourcefulness in me, I used my old underwear. It is in this project I realized we needed a new roll of mechanical tape and that I am either clever or just insane. My vote is on the latter.

PS: Do not dare talk about the hygiene involved. It was washed before it was given its new job and bacteria die of electrocution too, don't they?

In this corner

My sleeping regimen has been annoying my mother for the past few weeks already. I sleep at around 3 AM and wake up around lunch time. If I try to sleep earlier than 3 AM, I fail miserably and it really gets annoying trying to sleep when you know you won't so I lie in bed at around 2:30 to minimize the time of fidgeting in bed.

Woke up today and to my side are these:

My phone. Its just supposed to be by your side ALL THE TIME.

I listen to music before going to bed so I have my iPod beside me.

My provisional wallet from Team Manila. I had these for so long. It was intended to act as a temporary wallet until I find one that really suits me.

A bottle of Xylitol blueberry mint gum because when you lie in bed unable to drift into sleep, something to chew will keep you sane.

Catching Fire book, part two of the Hunger Games. I read the first book and had several attempts at finishing this one. I'm 3/4 done with it and hopefully I don't set it aside unfinished for another month.

I'm actually worried about sleeping and waking up late. What if I don't get over this pattern when the first day of school comes around? I will be groggy and cranky and when I'm in an unstable state, meeting new friends in college will entail a body count. If I start my college as a violent social pariah, I'll probably be remembered like that for the rest of my life.

Cookie drama, graduating and Aronofsky a.k.a. clutters in my head

When your mind is not disciplined, you end up with this
In this single post I will try to discuss:

1. The failure of a brand of cookie.
2. Graduation from driving school.
3. How to have a graduation party alone.
4. How I will try to keep the rest of the summer not hibernating.
5. How to stay out of drugs.

First things first: the cookie brand. It might be a question how a cookie can become a very dramatic episode of my life worthy of a blog post. If that cookie tastes wonderful and healthy but you can't eat it, maybe you will understand why.



Th Quaker Oats Oatmeal cookies are wonderful. The flavors (especially this Apple and Cinnamon one) are very good. When I was younger, I was all for the chocolate chip but it was with this cookie brand I realized a cookie can taste good without chocolate. Yum! Problem is it has eggs.




Its been a week since my vow to become a vegan. So goodbye wonderful oatmeal cookies! I never thought your packaging that hinted a feel of being vegan-friendly was not to be trusted.

***

I graduated from driving school! I have said a few days ago my driving school is going to end earlier but I missed the first hour of my supposedly last class so I had to make up. One thing I have learned is that not all humans are born with the talent to usher safely a vehicle in traffic. Some just have to work harder than the rest so until I become confident with my skills, I will stay away from the highways and keep practicing.

***

I tried to SMS my parents that I will be going to the mall after class to get dinner. Every one was busy and the dinner I hoped for, which will be a personal celebration for not having to pay for any damages at driving academy, was spent with myself. There is this really weird waiter at Pizza Hut, I won't even get into details.

And I really hate that they pay their waiters to sing a Mexican-on-drugs version of Happy Birthday (complete with oles and whatnot) whenever a customer is having his day. They should at least put out a warning because I could have thrown my fork into someone's eye! The first note was the loudest in the whole song.

***

Simple answer for number 4.

DARREN ARONOFSKY

I am now watching Requiem for a Dream. I have been talked into watching this movie a couple of times already but I never really got the drive to actually get a copy and see it. Aronofsky in Black Swan was how I think movies of the genre should be made.

After finishing his films, I will move on to more and more movies.

Aronofsky works with Matthew Libutaque, a Filipino Director of Photography, who shares the last name of my highschool math and PE teachers. Mrs. Math and Mr. PE (yes, a couple =) are amazing. So is Matthew.

***

Requim for a Dream will scare the drug user out of your soul. Its wonderful because it does not glorify the horror of being into drugs.



I love the parts where the camera follows the face of the actor. Aside from shedding to the audience the magnificent features of the talent, it creates an intimate bond and it challenges our understanding of facial emotions. It binds you and makes you feel the story not the way you would, but how the characters actually feel it. Genius!

May inuwi si nanay: ingredients

The necessity of a day to honor the efforts of the female parent will surface even clearer if you would have to believe that someone of my dimension and character sprouted from your insides and that you have to take care of me, at least try to, for until the ticket to heaven comes to one of us. In other words, I am not an easy offspring and being a mother figure is beyond challenging.

To celebrate my mother's special day, we decided on preparing spaghetti. True to her motherly nature, she considered my preferences when it comes to food so our spaghetti is to be vegetarian. Very timely because my blood is starting to smell of pesto pasta which I have been eating due to lack of options.

Tremendous imagination tells us that the hording in of spaghetti, or anything with noodles, guarantees long life. But what is long life without beautiful hair. Noodles are long with a wonderful texture so from now on, it also guarantees beautiful hair. The food itself is two thirds of what I have been asking God to give to my mother. A never-ending supply of happiness, a very loooong life and of course, beautiful hair.

Instead of meat (eww, yuch), we used mushrooms bits.

It turns out our stove gas supply has been consumed - so with the use of a technique originating from dormitory survival, we used a rice cooker to cook the noodles.

I really enjoyed cooking and I don't know if its true to everyone, but I suffered a phase where I believed I had an accurate imagination of taste. Like a boss, I will see ingredients, imagine proportions and I will mix them. The taste, I will imagine, is miraculous but when transposed to real life, I only come up with more colorful renditions of what by taste can only be considered mud.

So when it really gets to the hard-core cooking part, I sit back and watch the pros do their thing. I had vegetarian chicharon to help me pass time. It was kind of fattening waiting for food while eating.

And the final product (drumroll, missile sounds) :

It looks really tasty and yes, it was in a way, tasty. I added thyme to make the whole thing smell gourmet.

My mother is never a bore. People often tell me I can make them laugh. I swear if they met my mother they might as well pull their lungs out. My mother has secret weapon jokes (like the one about the bus, lol) and stories that can easily make your heart burn. She is extremely funny and she often tells me that it doesn't matter if we don't have a lot of money, at least we are happy. She values happiness a lot which is genius. We are here on earth to search for happiness, aren't we?

She told me she is going to watching(lol) watch the Aga Muhlach "In The Name of Love" movie. I think she wanted a break from all the happiness.

****

I can't believe we all did this fresh from an eating-intensive party 30 minutes away from the city. Look, my shoes are all wet and dirty.

Driving fail

I have a lot of people telling me that being the best in school doesn't really guarantee smooth sailing through the real world. Sure, it helps but when you are thrown into a system where everyone must be better than everyone else and everything is 100x the speed in the academe, the curriculum vitae can be easily dwarfed. 

Take that from an incoming college freshman because I, that incoming college freshman, was just slapped in the face by this heavily indoctrinated idea.

I challenged myself to drive my mother and sister to do grocery and back. My mother isn't really the one ready to die for the sake of his son's driving practice so she chose the parts of the whole travel where I get to drive. 

Being a self-assessed A+ student in the driving school, I'm a moron on the road with our family car.

My biggest problem is staying on the proper lane. When I am behind the wheel, the notion 'keep right' becomes an ultimate hurdle for my IQ. I may get 'good job' and 'very smooth' from my driving instructor, but I get fearful shrieks and 'Holy Mary's" from my Catholic family. I do not blame them for repenting when I'm driving. I could easily just smash into the pearly gates no matter how wide the gap is.
 

My mother said, with a motherly sense of pity compassion, my sucky performance was due to lack of practice. Gee, thanks mother. Probably the 5 hours of practice just couldn't teach me how to shift gear smoothly. I have to deal with this though.

In fact, probably, it is just because driving our car is like swimming in the pool while driving my driving school's car is like swimming in tomato soup. Both so similar yet so different. I would have to practice driving our car more. "Practice makes perfect", my mother would add sweetly. (Also, practice takes time, and time means decomposition).

And about the photo, I just added it because I think it looks cool. Black and white just makes action wonderful in its own right, no distracting colors and hues. And the face. It shows disappointment and a dash of constipation. Just perfect for what I am trying to put through - especially the constipation.

The reward is still a few hundred pages

For when we suffer without complaint, we are rewarded.

I am on the last few pages of the damned book I was talking about a post ago. A book which I described with "Bashing this teenage novel is far more entertaining and mind-exhaustive than reading it. This whole book is just worrying. Worry worry worry...." (does not qualify as complaining because I am practically talking to myself or to no one in particular who is in the authority to change things or actually be pestered by my whining. Blogging win!). Boredom causes a far more painful death than a badly written novel so I decided to finish reading it.

After turning up an hour late at my driving lessons today, I moved to this cafe/library a ride away from our home. The establishment has been occupying the back of my mind because the walls of the cafe has a wild immediate history. It was once a haunted house made of rotten wood, renovated into a dream mansion, bought and converted into an English school for Koreans and now it serves coffee to bookworms - most of which are still Korean.

A poster trying to recruit Italian chefs made it even more irresistible. I was craving for vegetarian pasta but after I saw the menu on an illuminated board, I realized that they should have removed the poster if they already had an Italian chef. Its awkward to go out of a cafe without buying anything so I decided to shower my afternoon with my favorite - a cup of caramel macchiato.

I had not intent of grabbing a book from one of the shelves in the store. Driving almost consumed all the eye muscle work for the day and I wanted to take a rest but a particular book with a green popsicle on its cover begged me to strain my eyes a little more. Then I fell into the misunderstood realm of an eating disorder.

This discusses anorexia in aesthetics similar to Aronofsky's Black Swan. Ibi Kaslik is a Hungarian-Canadian and reading the novel which is written in two perspectives, I theorized she probably had an intimate battle with anorexia. Its either she had it or she saw it consuming someone. Or she is just a gifted writer.

And don't get me started on how I enjoy the psychological thriller genre illuminated with dark imagery. I was bitter for weeks that Black Swan didn't win the Best Picture award. I have interest in psychiatry and how humans think. The  millions of strands of muscles in our body are but slaves to our brains.

Now, I have to go to that cafe everyday to finish the book. I hope no one discovers the treasure because I don't want to be an early bird at a cafe or to argue over a book.

Support

Fried chicken and chicken floating on chicken broth were for dinner.

I really had no choice but to open the dated pork and beans can we had and segregate the small bits of pork from the beans. Its my third day of being vegetarian and I preserved the record by eating only the beans with rice. The chicken was tempting but if there is one thing I can control in my body, it is my desire to eat.

Summer is really turning into one big ball of boring. Nowadays, if I'm not in the internet, I would be reading a book. Today's book is poorly written, which is worrying because it is about teenage writers. Even sadder is that it has two authors and the cover reminds me of glitter mixed with puke a.k.a. trying to be cute whilst being extremely ugly. Bashing this teenage novel is far more entertaining and mind-exhaustive than reading it. This whole book is just worrying. Worry worry worry....

So what to do?

I have been thinking about moving to Manila already but its far too early, about a month before the start of classes. The few times I have been to Manila, I have seen a lot of action and calorie burning which led me to believe that in the capital city, activity runs after you and not the opposite as it is here in Iloilo. I literally have to look for things to do here. And that is boring. I get really depressed when there is nothing to do because I hate to imagine myself sitting or lying in bed for one whole day. Everyone looks dead when they're not moving and if you sustain a pose for hours, I fear it will hold on until forever. If you sleep like a vehicular accident, that is not good.

Speaking of vehicular accident, tomorrow is my last two hours of driving lessons. After the driving, I will get a certificate and I will be released again to weeks of having nothing to do. Way to go!

Juda juda a a

Don't tell me that you expected something less than a big bike gang interpretation of Jesus and His disciples!



This is why I love Lady Gaga because she can easily dump all those Hispanic guys from Alejandro and move on to hitch on Jesus' big bike in less than a year.

Found one!

My earth-friendly diet has really cut my calorie intake to a dangerously low level. Again, our refrigerator pays homage to a slaughterhouse so my newly initiated vegetarian ways cannot be properly met domestically. It was an hour after lunch time and on the way to a mall, I was begging the skies that I would find heavy vegetarian meals. It answered with Pizza Hut's Pesto Pasta.

Photo credits: "link to another blog"

At last, I found one meal at SM which respects my vegetarianism and fills me up. I love being vegetarian!

The one who teaches you to drive.

Just finished my hours 3to 4 of driving and because my driving instructor carries my life in his hands during class time, I think it would be proper if I create a post about him.

My driving instructor is about as tall as I am if not slightly shorter. It is easy to assume that he sleeps with his hair arranged in a rather death metal sort of way. The longest strands (of his hair) are at most one and a half inches long but the attitude just isn’t as short. His eyes are brown and look rather piercing.

He probably enjoys teaching a dimwit like me. Not more that once he openly declared that he enjoyed the attention we get on highways, when I nearly kill the three of us in the car and every person on the street stares at the teaching vehicle I drive. “Artista ta ya subong. Kita mo, tanan sila gatulok! (We are celebrities. See, all of them are looking at us!)". Obviously, he doesn't mind the risk he took when he let me behind the wheel.

I really like his approach towards unruly drivers. I regretfully have to accept the fact that a lot of motorists are frustrated drag racers and adrenaline junkies. Whenever a car tries to overtake us in an improper fashion or someone's driving etiquette towards other cars is just unrefined, he will reach out for the car horns and press the hell out of it! While the horns blow, he will point his finger to the other repulsive car while trying to burn a whole through the nose bridge of the driver with his eyes. Its just epic and if I didn't value my own life, I could have laughed my breath away.

When the traffic gets tough, he will chant "Clutch down full" repeatedly in an alert, panicky way that gets to my bones. Whenever I hear "Clutch down full", I instantly have the urge to depress whatever colorful button on the dashboard is or kick on the gas pedal. His chant drives me nuts and the one other person who can do the same to me with words is my supernanny.

He is always correct. If you question him ... well, you don't question him. He is always correct and I am not trying to get to any other point but HE IS ALWAYS CORRECT.

I like my driving instructor. He makes driving worthy of actually going to school for.

winning

So for breakfast I ate bread (a certain vegan-friendly type), broiled bananas and cubes of papaya. I'm enjoying being vegetarian after all! Now, I'm worrying about lunch because I have checked the refrigerator and every square inch bore a dead animal of some sort. I'll probably just go to the mall, into KFC and order their salads.

is now vegetarian

I watched TV and saw a cool guy being interviewed. He was asked what would be his first action if ever he became president for a day. Immediately, he answered that he would want all humans who do bad things to animals be put to death. I was shocked amazed. I do not deny its absurdity but I can't help but agree. I agree so much that then and there I decided to try out being vegetarian.

This would be very hard because in the Philippines, any phenomena is enough reason for shoving meat down throats (which is wonderful for omnivores) - but I love challenges. In fact today, I agreed to go to the public market with my mother to help her decide which foliage to buy for her vegetarian son without really worrying about the amount of carnage there is in a public market. 

I was so into the idea of turning vegetarian that every time a butcher would offer us meat, I would close my eyes to avoid seeing a fraction of something which was once breathing dripping in blood. And the whole time we were in the 'bloody' region of the public market, I turned my head towards the floor, trying to trim off the extreme sides of my vision. Vegetarianism possessed me that if there was only a more dramatic lighting in the rather makeshift public market, I could have collapsed in the center with an ode to dead animals.

In my whole life, I have never felt so scared to be in a public market. Its like every wall has been painted with animal blood. I imagined pain and death being delivered to helpless creatures. My vegetarian mind is also mildly schizophrenic, I said to myself.

Now, I don't understand why meat is so tempting when its on the table. Its amazing how cooking have hidden away the sense of dead animal to it.

I will try being vegetarian for as long as I can and I hope people around me don't confuse my anti-meat diet with just being a picky eater.

I would enjoy if the accent comes with the diet.

Genetics should destroy it

It is almost 5 in the morning and I haven't slept yet. It doesn't really work when I try to go to sleep after doing something that really sucked because I end up just rolling around on my bed, eternally rearranging my pillows.



The internet just led me back to one of the science fields I had affairs with. I saw the video above and realized I still have feelings for genetics. Now, I feel sleepy.

Depressed

I just had two vaccine shots for Ateneo. Now that I am done with the medical exams which I consider the most tortuous and painful part of the enrollment process, I don't feel like going to college. I feel very down and moving to Manila for the coming school year is a notion that is hammering me down ('hammering' is such the proper term that I had to watch Thor earlier today).

I feel so depressed. Now, I'm crawling for my Better Than Prozac book.

Eeeek!

the longest asian zip line, good laptop speakers and born free

What happened was so cool you can't take a sharp photo.

This zip line in Dahilayan, Cagayan de Oro is 840 meters long, in fact, it is the longest of its kind in Asia. While waiting on the launch pad, I swear I reviewed my list of expletives which I would loosely use whenever the adrenaline is just too much. I'm the type of teenager who would fancy swearing at foliage a hundred feet below me.

While the ear-piercing noise from the gears and metal ropes that held me from falling was terrifying, the whole experience was priceless (although you can have yours for P500). Flying from mountain side to mountain side left me in deep awe that I didn't get to use any of the expletives I rehearsed earlier. Its either the wind was too strong or I was just humbled by the beauty from above  - but whatthehell, it was effing awesome!

********

I arrived in Iloilo about 5:45 AM today. I spent a whole night waiting at the Cebu airport afront two American ladies who enjoy watching movies while deep in sleep. Their laptop speakers were so good I couldn't even take a quick nap. My parents fetched me and they brought me to Jollibee for breakfast. Being alone after two flights and hours of waiting, it felt so good to be home.

The lack of sleep took its toll. After the breakfast until late afternoon was spent drooling and dreaming of aswangs trying to grab me by my feet.

********

The Mactan Int'l Airport in Cebu really enjoys orchestra versions of songs that can make babies cry. I must admit I was humming "Memory" along the string quartets and the rather jerky base lines but I just couldn't stand Born Free. I was still texting a friend about 1:30 AM earlier today, while I was still in Cebu, and that was what kept me sane from being born again into a serial killer.

My parents fetched me at the airport. I sat in our car and what the fuck, its Born Free on the radio. Welcome home.

Cagayan De Oro

They served this at a local restaurant boasting Kagay-anon cuisine. Since I was a kid, I believed chickens which were turned into food deserves funerals. I don't eat fowl bigger than a 5-year old - but it was tempting.

 Being alone while making my way from Cagayan de Oro to Cebu, forty-thousand feet above the ground with only a life vest in hand if ever suddenly the plane starts falling down, smashed me deep in contemplation. 

How could I just temporarily forget about blogging? Why couldn't I be a constant poster on my blog? Why do I stop when I'm having fun?

The answer is a metaphor simile. Fun is like a giant boulder. It falls over me whenever I'm enjoying something - and when there is a giant rock over you, you are not expected to log-in to Blogger and create a blog post.


Oh, yes! Why another excuse to conceal my sloth over tending my blog! What if a blog is like an infant? Beautiful, tender, loving, so vulnerable. Would I just suddenly forget being a parent if an 840 m zip line ticket materializes in thine hand? Or would the child be dropped to be replaced by bottles of drinks whenever thine enters a nightclub? Halt such talk!!! I command thee phone, appear on my hand and dial unto yourself 1-6-3. Bullsht.

So to make up for my mistakes, I will browse through the photos of my recent adventures and post anything worthy. This is to add content to my blog and to vent my anxiety over summer's impending death.

PS: I am at the Mactan Int'l Airport here in Cebu waiting for my flight to Iloilo which is in 4 hours. Its funny how I remember blogging when I entirely have nothing else to do... Its 1 and a half hour pass midnight by the way.

My rules on getting drunk

My love to party is not unknown and at parties, it is very likely that I drink. And yes, I drink. A lot. I could easily pull off a David Hasselhoff drunk but instead of lying topless on a bathroom floor, I would probably just dance until I can't stand up anymore. I enjoy being drunk because alcohol is a wonderful solvent for my inhibitions and it just destroys my sense of time.

But of course, I drink responsibly. A lot of people think that drinking makes you a bad person. That shouldn't be a shocker because drunk people smash cars, throw fists and vomit(ew). But not all drunk people have to do those. It just happens too often for avoiding making a stereotype.


Tomorrow, I'll be off to Cagayan de Oro and I'm pretty sure there we will have a party. So to consider partying and drinking responsible, I have a set of rules:

1. Never lie about it, especially to your parents. When my mother asked if I already started to enjoy drinking, I said yes. If she asked for a detail, I wouldn't lie about it. When she asked if I have already tried this and that, I never lie. When I go to overnight parties, I make it sure that they know.

What I learned about my parents is that when you never lie to them, they will be very lenient. They allow me to do all the crazy stuff I want to. I just came to realize that I should always remember whatever happens to me is exaggerated by their ability to worry and that I just be very honest. My parents enjoy not being lied to and I fear that when I lie, they might ban me from partying and all other unnecessary things I love to do.

2. Study your metamorphosis. Drinking really plays with the brain and it is not rare that people change after alcohol ingestion. You should know about what you become after a few bottles.

Yours truly turns into a French tourist and a loner. I just dance on the floor. In fact, I just want to dance more than anything else I turn down any offers to socialize. If my name is requested, I reply with a David or Patrice. Trust me, you'll shit bricks laughing at it when you become sane again. This step is very crucial because what if you turn into a Chuck Norris when you're drink? People who turn into war freak brutes when they're drunk needs companions to actually turn them into less threatening drunks. If you were born to be an alcoholic gladiator, there is still a wonderful chance that you can be turned into something more benign.


3. The way home. When you're drunk, parties might seem like they could go on forever but trust me, they don't. So before hand, you must be well aware of where you will be sleeping tonight and be sure that when your vision resembles a blender, it will be still safe to travel back home.

The most irresponsible thing you could do when you're drunk is when you need to drive and you actually drive. The second is when you let someone who is also drunk drive you home. The third is when you let your car ride you. Just be sure you have a safe way home no matter how brutally drunk you are.

4. Never give out your number.

Instead, ask for numbers. Hahahahaha

5. Limit the amount of money you bring near the bar.

Pulling out cash and handing it over to the bar is far easier when drunk.

6. Remember that the worst thing you could do in life is make people who care about you worry.

That is one of my major mantras so I really think twice before doing anything because of all the ugly things you could be in life, I wouldn't be a source of worry the most.


I know that alcohol is not really kind to the body but after a party night, I just make sure I eat very healthy (all greens and a matchbox-sized portion of meat) plus I sleep a lot. So the seventh step is to make sure that the night after the party is dedicated to recovery.

When you catch yourself crawling for alcohol, actually needing it and having mood swings just to have a sip. That means your addicted. You can stop yourself from addiction. When you just start falling in love, stop in the middle and just remind yourself, alcohol is only a friend. A friend shouldn't be abused.

Shopaholic

Living in a municipality with a convenience store called Shopaholic, you just don't expect boredom.

I'm with my cousins, Titas and Titos here in Zamboanga. I'm having a lot of fun watching movies, listening to jokes, being the joke, and doing everything else you can do with a joke. Plus I'm eating the regular 3 meals a day and I'm gaining weight!

A little backtrack: Well, usually I never eat three meals a day. I lost a lot of weight doing so and even though how hard I try to regain some pounds, I would still prefer eating once a day over reporting to the table three times a day. My appetite was walking away from being extant.

This summer is too happy to prequel my migration to the capital city next year but, I remind myself: I will enjoy Manila. Just not the first few weeks.

La Merde

I still have an hour and I just ate an outrageously small serving of spaghetti carbonara served by one of the many coffee shops here in the airport. This is the perfect time to rant about money hoarding, food servers in the NAIA Terminal 3 airport.

The coffee shop claims of having French descent. I will not be shocked if a French-Filipino war emerges next week. I believe that the French take food seriously and that damned coffee shop can easily be considered as a huge threat to their security. The cashier and the person who prepares the sandwiches share the same set of hands so I opted to take their spaghetti carbonara which was already on those plastic, microwaveable rectangular containers. It looked like cheap take-out but at least I'm sure my food won't taste like coins and peso bills.

The pricing is just crazy. In fact, it could only be sane if diamond grindings were included in the white sauce. Yes, the sauce was creamy. In fact, IT WAS ALL CREAM. While airlines are lowering airfares for those who dream to fly, airport food stalls are stealing from hungry, in-transit passengers.

I am not being very cheap. I just spend money wisely. Would you spend a day's allowance on a mixture of poor pasta and a peculiar white substance that can only be ketchup with white paint diluted in tap water? Yes, maybe. If it includes a stick of soft, dense garlic bread. The garlic bread, if only it was the size of a rhinoceros (their definition of a serving is synonymous to the size of my thumb), could have made up for all these anger.

PS: My joints are trembling. I drank a strong brew of caramel macchiato after an elephant serving of black coffee at home. I'm learning the effects of caffeine over dosage all by myself.

at the airport. waiting. without feathers

You have to trust me on this one. That man up there is funny as hell.

I bought Without Feathers for 5 pesos at a book sale in the mall. What a joke.

Now, I'm in an airport, nodding my head and even sometimes laughing out loud. Woody Allen requires more than a smile or a giggle. He demands a whole-hearted, gaping, laughing mouth. You should read this book in private lest everyone will have an idea of what your tonsils look like. Its a bible against boredom.

I'll be in Manila for FOUR HOURS, just waiting and probably blowing off money on pricey airport food. Spare a few second of silence. Pray for my sanity. Everyone knows how much I hate just being stagnant.

Binge night

I'm too lazy to upload my own picture so I just grabbed this one from here.

Tomorrow, my parents and I will be going home to our barangay. That means I won't have constant internet connection and in the barangay, staying inside the house for weeks is sane. The lack of physical activity will be overwhelming.

I went to SM alone and bought Selecta-Hershey's Reese's flavored ice cream, cotton balls and Sweet Corn balls (the chichiria). Tonight, I'm planning to eat all of the ice cream together with my parents. I have to celebrate my temporary migration to the boondocks.

Honestly, I think the loss of internet will be hard on me. I probably won't be able to blog all the time which, on the brighter side, means I'll have more time to read. The rural is a good backdrop for consuming literature about brain medicine (bough a book about psychiatric drugs). In the urban, I find it hard to finish a book being officially addicted to the internet.

Everyone knows how Lady Gaga loves to make it into the front page. Her song Judas has just been released a few days ago and if you remove it from any religious context, its a fairly addicting song. I listened to it once and it was repulsive. I forced myself to giving it another chance until I realized my iTunes was on "Repeat One".

I can't wait to hear the Church's reaction on this kind of music. I find it really amusing to see pastors and priests bash a meat-wearing pop superstar.

Better than Prozac

Prozac can make you happy. So what is better than what can make you happy?

I bought this at a booksale for a staggering, earth-shaking 5 pesos. Psychiatry is a challenging field. I bought a book about psychiatric drugs for less than a jeepney ride. Wow.

There must be a Republic Act requiring a minimum number of book sale outlets per hectare.

a reminder from Quench Pure Water

Only Christ the Living Water can Quench our Spiritual Thirst

Welcome to the religious Philippines where even water bottles can preach.

I bought this from my doctor's assistant. I had another two doses of immunizations for the Ateneo enrollment.

The pain doesn't bother me at all. It is the feeling of having another end of the needle entering your muscles that makes me queasy.