Talk With Strangers

SINULOG 2012

2012-01-24T19:48:00.001+08:00

I had two days to recharge from the week-long sleep deprivation that is our bimonthlies. We're lucky that our school schedules our exams right before Sinulog so we can enjoy the festivity stress-free! Yep, our teachers said it themselves.

Went to the city at 4pm. Traffic was light and again, I had an awesome parking space. Sweet.

Very silent agreement on wearing white for that day. I didn't hear it.

With classmates in med school.

Drop by Baseline and you won't get out clean. Everybody's just throwing god-knows-what on you. There was a point where I felt a minty sensation on my forehead only to find out it's toothpaste. Ah, my forehead looks like a sparkling tooth.

Street Party. How more fun could it get?

Same lovely people I was with last year.

Wrapped up the day silently at a friend's condo over ice cream, more face paint, and DVD.

Photos grabbed from Gigette, Franz, Eman and Dadz. My camera's SD card got screwed right before I transferred my photos. I know, I know. asdjfaklsjdakl!

Pit Senyor!

2012-01-16T21:18:00.000+08:00

Last year’s Sinulog ended rather quietly. After hours of partying with close friends and complete strangers, I sat down with my favorite girl, J, and her boyfriend at a favorite coffee shop. It was close to mid night and most of our friends went home already.

J and I have this late night after-party practice where we stay somewhere nice -- a fast food restaurant or a coffee shop -- after happy hours and talk about something serious. Or not. It’s like dessert session. Quality time.

Anyway, while we were talking this familiar face sat behind the chair next to ours. I see him EVERY time I go there, which was quite frequent, alone or with friends. Who’s stalking who?

I was obviously the third-wheeler that time. J and her boyfriend were talking with each other while I pretended to be interested in my so-very-not-techy phone when I about-faced and saw him busy with his cell phone too, probably texting someone he’s supposed to meet. Sinulog wasn’t over yet and it’s one of those days where you can talk (and do so much more) with strangers without looking like an idiot so…

Me: Pit Senyor!

No response. He was still busy texting, probably hadn’t heard me or thought I was talking with someone else. I felt awkward for a second, thinking if I should say it again and this time louder.

Me: (volume increased) Pit Senyor!

Stranger: Heeeey! Pit Senyor!

Me: Would you like to join us?

Stranger: Oh. NO, thanks.

And then he turned his chair around and faced us. Kinda weird, huh? He says no while he’s doing yes. Didn’t matter, really.

We all introduced each other and talked about (you guessed it) Sinulog. We were both there earlier in the day, left to go somewhere and now I’m back to rest and him to wait for his cousin. He asked where my other friends were, the ones I’m usually with when I’m there. Quite an observer, eh? Then we talked about school and work, that he has a relative who goes to the same school that I do, about how he got back in Cebu after a really cool job up in the air, literally, which he had to give up; and then to common friends who we talked about with so much enthusiasm. There, topic. Win. Cebu is a very small place, you know. Chances are, if you’re reading this and you’re from Cebu, you’d happen to be a friend of a friend of mine. Or probably even a distant relative if it could get any freakier than that. It’s a common conversation fuel. Remedy for dead air.

We ended the conversation short coz I had to go home already so we left and said what most people would when saying bye: see you around.

And see around we did.

Osmena Peak - Kawasan Falls Traverse

2011-11-14T21:40:00.000+08:00

Broke camp at 7 AM. Sun was shining and the skies looked promising. We're just six hours away from the waterfalls.

Going to that paved road.

Stopping by the water source for some cold water sprinkling

PawPaw leading our group of 5

Waiting for Paw's signal

Therese leading this time. Girl power.

Met the rest of the group in a chapel for lunch. Rested for a little while and proceeded hunting for cold waters. We took the other trail, the one that was not the half moon. I don't know what it was called. Feel free to let me know.

It was almost an hour walk from lunch site to the river. Just so you know, I am so in love with fresh water. Even the sound of it makes me so excited, I'm all smiles!!!

Fresh water in sight!!! Just a few more steps away. I'm feeling so jumpy.

Campers entering Kawasan Falls via back door. No entrance fee here unlike the other entrance XD

Kawasan Falls has 3 levels. I've been here a couple of times but not on this (3rd) level.

Swimming to that little curtain

SO COLD. My teeth hasn't chattered in a while. Photo by Julius.

Mini waterfall. Its size is dwarfed compared to the first level's but it's better coz you don't need a raft to go under it.

Cliff diving =) =) =)

I looooooooove cliff diving!! We climbed onto that wall on the photo above, just around 15-20 feet. I wish it was higher.

Mini-trekked down to the rest of the waterfalls (love the river sounds) and onto the highway.

This is the first waterfall, and the largest among them, that you'll see when you enter Kawasan Falls via front door.

Took the 3-hour bus ride home. So much for semestral break.

Osmena Peak, Dalaguete

2011-11-05T10:11:00.002+08:00

We took the bus which left at 10am from Caltex near USJR in Carbon. Php100 for a 3-hour ride. The ride wasn't that comfortable. Our knees were touching the seat in front of us and we sat next to live chickens and vegies but if you got good company, the chicken included, the ride won't really be a torture. It took us directly to Mantalongon Market, probably the highest wet market in the province.

If you take the buses in South Bus Terminal, you drop off Dalaguete highway and take a 20-minute habal-habal ride to the market. I hear it's a fun ride.

On our way to those mountains

Adidas rock

It's an hour walk from the market to the campsite. If you don't feel like walking, you can take the habal-habal which will take you to the foot of the peak and walk for just 10 minutes more. If you plan to arrive at midnight like some of the guys in our group did, then this route will be best. Unless you really want to night trek.

It was very cloudy when we got to the camp site. The hill on the left is Osmena's Peak.

Lots of campers that day. It was the first weekend of the semestral break.

Foggy!!

View from Osmena's Peak. I wonder whose those other peaks are. Would be great if one of those is named after me.

With my pretty sister, F. It took a lot of convincing for her to spend the weekend with me.

Group photo by Tikboy

With Jah who carried our tent the whole time. Looks like heaven! Photo by Julius.

Thought we were unlucky that day. It was so cloudy we couldn't see the sunset.

But then the clouds moved away and there you have it.

That time of the day when the colors play in the sky.

The night sky was a beauty. I hadn't seen as many stars ever--some shooting and falling, can't really tell the difference. We were lucky the sky was clear that night, not a cloud covering it, which also meant no rain. It was so cold already without the rain.
We didn't have any decent photo during camp at night especially of the millions of stars because Gerard aka Tikboy who had the only camera capable of capturing it was seeing other kinds of stars brought about by Tanduay and whatever it was they were drinking.
No bonfires. Just headlamps, layers of cloth on our bodies, music, food, cards, talking, playing and laughing. The only things missing were a guitar and a lipstick to paint the card game loser's face.And we had a firefly inside our tent! Lovely company.
You know what they say about people in the mountains. There's nothing much to do that's why they go to bed early. I guess that held true for the girls that night except that it was too cold, we found it pretty hard to stay asleep.
Woke up to this...

...and breakfast cooking. Packed up for a long walk to some cold fresh water.

Rappelling

2011-10-29T09:58:00.000+08:00

At Campo 4, Talisay.
Rappellling off a bridge. Not that high. Just learning the how-to's.
Did this six weeks ago. I can't remember much of the details.

Before this photo was taken, that yellow multicab attempted to cross the river but got stuck along the way. The water was deeper than they thought. A dump truck had to pull it out.

ropes, harnesses, carabiners, gloves

When a carabiner is dropped, it's considered broken even when it still looks usable. There could be small cracks inside of it. You cannot throw it away though coz someone might pick it up and use it. You can either keep it (but not use it), or have it x-rayed. The latter is too much of a hassle for a very small thing so they suggest to just attach it to your chest when you get a chest x-ray. XD
You must not step on ropes. Rocks and glass from the ground or your shoes could get inside the rope and eventually cut the fibers.
There are hundreds of ways to tie a knot.
Just do it.

There were a couple more stuff (and terms) that I learned. I just cannot remember any more.

Not that high. Even if you fall you'd still be alive but with a couple of scratches and bruises.

A few cyclists passed (and some stopped) by.

Notebook Collection

2011-10-28T16:58:00.002+08:00

"I collect all sorts of things: coins, buttons, frogs, leaves. Anything but one. Husbands." - my high school crafts club coordinator.

I don't know what it is with collecting stuff but I love doing it anyway.

Notebooks.

I've had this for a couple of years now but it's still small. I can't find my other notebooks. I think they're trapped somewhere under heaps of dust waiting for sunlight.

They're like my happy food. Just last week after our exams I went to La Belle Aurore just to buy notebooks but they ran out of good ones so I ended up taking some sheets of paper with me for free. Well, it's sheets of papers that make up a notebook so it's pretty close to the real thing.

I got a couple of notebooks spending an eternity on the shelves just waiting to be opened. I don't intend to use all of the ones I have. Sometimes I just buy them because they're so cute I have to put them on my shelf and call it mine.

Some of them lovelies:

The smaller notebooks on this photo are the ones I often bring with me anywhere to draw or write stuff onto. Trees, leaves, clouds, poems, rants, lists.

Handmade notebooks I got from Dan. I came across his travel sketch blog (now moved to a new one) while searching for Budlaan on google. He had this static post about giving away these notebooks for free, as well as some postcards, sketch pads and his own artworks. I also got to meet his wife, Kikit, albeit briefly. Check out her blog. :)

Two of the notebooks which I think I will never use. Their pages are too cute to mess with.

I'm a sucker for brown stuff. The tiny one on the left is filled with sketches (also from Dan).

I got too many extra notebooks I couldn't figure out what to do with them so I came up with a Birthday Diary. Every year on my birthday I write down how my day has been and post a picture or two. So cheesy, I know. It just had its 5th entry last month.

More addicts here.

What do you collect?

Taking Photos For Strangers

2011-10-26T17:41:00.003+08:00

This post is a kickoff to my Talk With Strangers series. I've had this blog running for 3 years now and I still haven't told you about my encounters with them. The first few posts will be nothing specific of a particular stranger. I'll save that for later.

. . .

A very good friend of mine, Golda, gave me a gift a few years ago which contained some to-do things each written on a piece of paper. There were probably a hundred. All of them were doable: memorize your favorite poem, say "hello" first, watch a sunrise (I still haven't done this yet).

One of my favorites among the list is this:

OFFER to take a picture.
I've been wanting to do this even before I got this present. I just needed a little push and this note did it.

I often visit places downtown, churches and museums, and a lot of people -- couples, groups and families -- take pictures for souvenirs. When I see them I feel the itch (and it's really strong) to come up to the one holding the camera and ask her if she would like me to take their photo. After a few shots I hand them back their camera and strike up a very short conversation that usually goes like this:

Them: Thank you!
C: Sure, sure. So where are you guys from?

Them: fdkalgifdsk!

C: Oh.. Well, enjoy Cebu!

I think I'll make a good politician.

So far, only one has refused my offer. I guess I'm no Don Vito Corleone. We were inside a church celebrating the parish fiesta and this father was taking a photo of his wife and daughter. I asked him if I could take their photo but he said "No thanks," so I went ahead and sat on the pew; they finished their picture taking and on their way out the wife smiled at me. Hmmm?

This picture-taking isn't limited to their cameras but mine as well. A couple of times when I went to the library and museum there were teens who were on an educational tour and I offered to take their group photo and email it to them.

I don't know what it is that I get from doing this but every time I do, I walk away with my lips in a curve.

Dear Photograph

2011-10-18T22:46:00.006+08:00

Suppose time is a circle, bending back on itself. The world repeats itself, precisely, endlessly.

-Alan Lightman, Einstein's Dreams

This photo was taken on October 16, 2011.

The photo in this photo was taken on May 3, 1998.

Same spot. Same angle. A decade's difference.

The cabinets, barometer, lights, picture frames are still where they used to be. The organ is now moved to a different spot; there are new shelves, books, photos and even new members in the house.

It's amazing how in just a single click a moment is captured and kept for years or a lifetime. They'd even make very lovely gifts. Sometimes it's the only memory one will ever have.

Back in the days when analog cameras were the only ones available, photos were more tangible. Nowadays they get stuck in the hard drive or the internet and a single virus could erase them all.

My dad told us that one day when we grow old we'll be thanking him for all the memories he's saved for us: photographs and videos. They get riper with age. I've come to realize the truth in those words not so long after he said that. Not that I've aged fast. It's just that I'm a schmaltz.

Print your photos. Write dates and captions.

-------

When I was a kid I used to play the keyboard during recitals, parties at home, and even during fiestas at the sports complex. It wasn't that fun. I didn't like the pressure and the attention. Even now, after 11 years, when I meet neighbors known to me or not, they'd still refer to me as the girl who played the keyboard the night Sweeney passed away.

Nearness of You (Cover)

CHOPPY. You'll hear my name somewhere. Clutter.

My originals are horrible.

The photo is inspired by Dearphotograh. It's a trip to memory lane. Reminds me of the movie filled with so much nostalgia, Cinema Paradiso.

Moving Planet

2011-09-26T22:02:00.004+08:00

I was supposed to bike my way to downtown Cebu but as I pedaled 20 meters off the highway the chains went off. Two passers-by were so kind to help me they didn't mind painting their hands with grease while working with the crankset and chains... but we all eventually gave up. It was the same bike I borrowed and the owner forgot to tell me it was broken. I wanted to cry!! T_T I took a cab instead.

Anyway, parts of dowtown Cebu were closed for the Moving Planet / Road Revolution. Save fossil fuels, ergo, no gas.

While I was walking around looking for something interesting, some guy came up and we had this very short conversation that went like this:

Stranger: You're looking old school.

Me: Yeah? (Reviewing my wardrobe in my mind. Nothing old school there, I swear.)

Stranger: Maybe you have a time machine at home.

Don't you just love random conversations. You don't even get to know each other's names.

After lots of walking I met with a friend, checked out some free archaeology seminar and went longboarding (slight!). I was expecting the streets to be packed with bikers and skaters but there were only a few. There's a push race competition in Dumanjug (which looks really fun!! and scary) the following day which was probably why not a lot of skaters were there, plus there's a night ride later that evening.

L - R: Rochelle and Ana. They're like twins!; Noob

There were parkour, vintage bike exhibit, BMX exhibitions and museum tours for free. There weren't really a lot of people and probably some of those who were walking around had no other choice but to... walk. I would have wanted to check out the poetry reading (POETRY READING!! *GASP*) and listen to some live band in Outpost later that evening which was also part of the event but oh well, student duties. #nerd

And I just read from the newspaper today that there'll be another one come October 23.

On a side note: I miss Outpost!! It's one of my favorite hangout places. I'll pay it a visit soon.

On This Day Nineteen Years Ago

2011-09-20T07:33:00.002+08:00

20 / 9 / 92 Sunday

Today is Christina's birthday, a day of celebration for today 3 years ago my 1st daughter of the 3 beautiful children was born to a waiting anxious mother and father. A big day of joy for me. My thanks to the Almighty for the great blessings given to us. . .

This was the very last entry from my dad's half-consumed diary I found in an old cabinet last week. How timely. It's amazing how he keeps so much memories. The older they get, the sweeter they become. Sometimes it's the only thing I can look back on.

The gift of years.

I am uncountably blessed.
I am grateful.
Life is awesome. Super.

Morning Uphill Run

2011-09-12T19:33:00.002+08:00

Last weekend got me baked. I was out for a series of days, running and working with ropes.

Anyway, I woke up at 4:45am, my body telling me to stay in bed and save my energy. Dragged myself out of bed anyhow.

I was supposed to wear a rashguard for that day's run but I wasn’t sure if it’ll feel good when you are sweating. I know it’s for the waters but I like the look of it. Anyway, I changed into my long sleeves. I feared it might get too cold. I freeze fast.

With the group plus Ronald

Started jogging at 6:00 am (later than scheduled) from the foot of Nivel Hills, Lahug. Lots of stopping along the way. Chats and jokes and ONE biscuit. It was slowly becoming a food trip. Hee XD

Hit it.

I saw lots of cyclists going up and down the road. There were probably 50 and I took lots of photos of them. Talk about frustrations.

More photos of them here.

Ralph (guy on the photo) and I went ahead of the group. Used to jog with him a lot of times at the Oval in Abellana before. Our schedule don't meet anymore coz I run in the morning nowadays.

Before the run I betted that we’ll only be up to Marco Polo Hotel. Most of the people in the group were doing a walkathon :P but we reached Mr. A. I love this place at night!!

Chilling above the city. Time check: 7:30am

I had fun though I would have loved to go further up the mountains. I’ll go back soon with a running buddy or just me alone—me being a loner. The good thing about being alone is that you can do anything you want without having to worry about someone (yourself included) getting left behind. But running with a group/buddy is fun, too. And safer.

See that silver lining? I don't really know what it is but it’s a beauty.

Jogged with Ralph down to Marco Polo, waited for the others and then walked and talked to McDonald’s for light breakfast.

I was supposed to go to this really really really lovely place that day but I had to postpone it. I figured it would be better if I go visit it some other day.

Cold gloomy morning run on a FRIDAY. Awesome. I'm going back soon. Company is welcome. XD

Strokes and Laps

2011-09-07T22:49:00.005+08:00

I spend most mornings of my weekdays lazing up in bed. Second year class schedule is so lax I almost don't know how to spend my time. I end up wasting it on TV, the internet, books (textbooks not included), strolling, doodling and what have you. But lately I've been spending it wisely like taking a dip. Actually, more than just a dip--doing laps.

I have this very weak dream of becoming a triathlete especially when a cyclist from CC once told me to develop my swimming and running skills so my dad would eventually buy me a bike. Swimming was my first love. Running, I'm not so good at it. Biking, I'll have to see yet.

I used to swim regularly in Abellana back in high school together with my dad and sisters. Then I quit. My sisters went on and got serious with it, breaking records here and there. #IAmAProudSister. The last time I went to Abellana was almost 3 years ago. It's so public (my goodness) it gave me awful back allergies. I want to go back though, it's the only olympic-size pool in the city that I know of. I went on swim dates regularly one summer in Marriot hotel but their pool was so small it's boring. Just a few strokes and you're on the other end already.

Spent my morning today with a classmate at Casino Español which is located right behind our school. No relaxing on the woven beds. Just laps and few chats like, "What chapters were you able to read last night?" or something more interesting, sense the sarcasm, like, "I think the case of our patient is..." or something not school-related like "It's a long weekend." Uh, ok.

Headcap and goggles off already, she's about to get out of the pool. She's running out of breath, needs more training.

Today's swim was quite frustrating. My favorite stroke used to be back. It's less air-hungry, you're facing the clouds, just gotta mind your lane. I tried it today and I don't know what's up with the current but the water always pushed me to the other lane and then onto the side gutter. It must have been their mini waterfall. Or could be the wind. Physics. Whatever. I'm sticking to freestyle.

Swam for just about 30 minutes, showered and got fresh for our classmates, walked to school and worked as a ninja.

Paint Them Rainbows

2011-09-04T11:48:00.011+08:00

I like how nail polishes say "girly". When I go trekking I like to wear pink. It's nowhere close to nature colors but it suits ;)

They do get a little distracting while studying. They're so cute you just want to stare at them instead of your books.

The second photo reminds me of a time in my life when I had little friends on my fingertips. Literally. It went on for like a week. I was that bored.

On a totally unrelated note:
I've been doing a lot of piano covers lately, mostly old songs. I play most of them by ear so they tend to be out of tune sometimes =/ and unfinished. This one's an ultimate favorite.

Sailing by Christopher Cross

overly romantic, it's laughable

2011-08-31T09:49:00.002+08:00

I want to make sure I bring all the stuff I need when I go out on a trip so I list down the things I have to pack. This is a list I made on our trip to Argao and I've been using it on the following treks I've had, adding whatever stuff I need.

One of the things I almost always bring with me is a book or any reading material and/or a notebook where I can draw or write stuff. It's true what they say: boredom kills. And this is my way of hanging on to dear life. (Okay, that was cheesy.)

Packing for the recent trek I had was hurried. I was currently reading a thick novel but I didn't want to bring anything big and heavy so I grabbed this small novel (novella?) I had in my shelf: Bridges of Madison County.

It was so short at around 150 pages with huge font -- talk about stretching the length of the novel -- that I finished half of it during the frequent breaks we had. I had the impression that it was a good book coz the awesome Clint Eastwood made a film adaptation about it. I was wrong. It was overly romantic, too cheesy I thought some rats were trying to attack me. I hate the story. Wife of a decent husband falls in love with a stranger she met for four days while her family was away on a trip. She and stranger part ways and never meet again but their love never faded even until their death decades after. asdfjkl!!!!

Too sensational, too cinematic. I wanted to crumple the pages and burn the book.

It's terrible. I'm no moralist but it amuses me that this book became so popular because they had an affair.

Unless you want to feel angry and dumb and wanting to poke your eyes for reading such horrible stuff, don't read it.

For Old Times' Sake

2011-08-26T23:43:00.009+08:00

Nothing beats the first group. We're in second year now and with different groups but we still find time to get together. Spontaneously, at that. Groupmate tells you, "Come at D's condo, we're having a party. Exclusive!" and you just can't won't shan't want to miss it.

Med school gets a little less stressful when you have awesome classmates.

More photos below the cut!

Budlaan River Trek

2011-08-18T20:02:00.009+08:00

Finally! A worry-free weekend!

After plenty of turning down invites for the outdoors I finally had the time to join one. My body was so tired from all the exams and nights-out but I couldn't let this pass. It's gonna be months until I'm gonna be free again to spend the weekend outdoors.

I went river trekking and rock climbing in Budlaan Falls in Talamban on a cloudy/rainy/sunny Sunday. I first met these people at a Basic Mountaineering Course held last month. The weather was just fine when the group rendezvoused in the morning but when we reached our drop off in Baugo it started to drizzle and then it rained hard. Our guide/leader surveyed the area and tried to weigh between doing Kan-Irag or push through with the river trek.

We did the river trek.

My camera's LCD was broken so I was shooting through the viewfinder the whole time with no reviewing and stuff. I'm glad the photos came out good.

Some girl's feet swimming in coffee.

Because of the rain the water was brown. It wasn't really dirty. Just muddy. On normal days the river and waterfalls look like this.

There were lots of rocks and boulders and plants and insects along the way.

Sometimes we had to cross the river and the current was quite strong and along with that, some rock climbing and rapelling. There were lots of ropes involved. That guy on the left was our guide, Aaron.

I don't know what's up with those strips of white shades on the photos.

Mighty waterfalls. I have so much love for fresh water. =)

I don't really know the names of the waterfalls. There were probably three or four that we passed by. This one was the biggest, it was majestic. Well, it wouldn't have been so if it weren't for the rain. Otherwise it would have looked like (this).

Those are water hoses. And that's Neeru. Or was it Jerson? I was only sure of one name among the people in the group: Paw Paw who helped me bigtime.

Now, this is where the magic happened that day.

The ropes were extremely important. Someone said this is the part where you learn to appreciate your life. It didn't really apply to any of us until the "magic" happened. I don't want to talk about it. I just want to tell you this: think twice about river trekking if it's raining hard, ergo, when it floods.

This is the part where I finished a quarter of a short novel I brought with me. The group was moving slow and there were lots of waiting time in between it would dry your eyes out. It was an ugly book I brought. So ugly I think I'll tell you about it later.

Brisk walking back to Baugo. Racing the sunset.

We were way behind schedule. We were supposed to end up in Busay but it was getting dark already so they decided that we just go back to Baugo where we dropped off. I love walking trails--at dusk at that. And I was practically silent most of the time. #shytype. I would have been the opposite if my trek buddy, Rochelle, went. She had other plans. I miss her a lot. Like a lot, a lot.

This trek was so cheap I only spent less than 50 pesos. And I got a huge ugly bruise as a souvenir. It's so colorful it's like I have a rainbow tattooed on my left knee.

Friday Redemption

2011-08-13T23:55:00.008+08:00

For a student who had a week of mental and physical torture, Friday was a kiss of life. It's like life was on sale that everyone of us went out to buy it.

As soon as I finished my oral exam--never mind my performance--I went straight to meet my favorite girl. It was spontaneous so there was no plan and since the library and museum were so near, we decided to go check it.

The city library just had a renovation which lasted for almost a year. I don't know how many times I went there and all I got was, "Renovation is still undergoing. It might be finished next month." And I'd clarify the 'next month' and she'd say, "Actually, maybe next next month. Or next next next next."

Waited too long for it and the only things new to me are the white tiles and brighter lights.

I decapitated Rizal on this photo. Unintended.

Above the library is the City Museum. How is a museum filled with only paintings called a city museum? Connect the dots for me please.

I do think that wooden furniture is supposed to be at the center. It doesn't look right. Excuse me, OC talking.

Jane looking interested.

I call it picture taking. Not the V word.

The stairs are brown, I'm wearing brown, I'm brown, brown is my favorite color and this sentence is going nowhere. This photo is so brown I like it.

Sun set. Party time.

Scrapbooking for a friend's birthday.

I love doing stuff in natural light. This is no natural light on the photo though but I swear it's very lovely when the sun is up. This is my favorite part of my classmate's condo which is situated way up in the building it overlooks the midtown city. I can sit here all day. XD

Playing charades. Sorry, birthday boy! gotta love funny candid shots.

Anyway, that's one word, english, movie. What he's doing, I don't know but it's not flattering in still :P

Went around the city and ended up in Mango. It was packed. We wanted some peace and quiet so we went to Starmart, Caltex's convenience store. I've always liked this place. It's cold and it's quiet you can stay here for as long as you want even if you just buy a 14-peso popsicle ice cream.

Sexy time.

IT Park at 1 AM. Head a bit dizzy and eyes tired. Not calling it a night yet.

My groupmates went somewhere else. I was gonna go home but I wanted to go to IT park to just see it. See it. Seriously. Checked my phonebook and texted people who were possibly out this late. Turned out I had some classmates who were on their way to Loft but I didn't go. I was in the mood for something else:

Conversations over a piece of cookie with a childhood friend who I haven't seen for 2 years.

Passed by street lights. Finally calling it a night.

Late Night Driving

2011-08-13T04:11:00.006+08:00

Late night driving: you, car, music, lights, and empty streets.

If you're lucky, you'd have some lovely company shotgun.

Photos taken at SRP.

The tunnel is pretty.

Three AM and driving home. I missed this.

The whole SRP road was empty save for a couple of bikes.

Our old car has only a tape deck and all the radio stations were out already so it was just the speed I was listening to. Not that I was fast. My favorite music to listen to in moments like this are trance/house/triphop. It makes gravity non existent, you float.

Here's a favorite track:

Scratch #a

2011-08-12T16:00:00.001+08:00

At first glance

I made you ugly.

She told me you were beautiful

I told myself otherwise.

For days I stuck my thoughts

kept them alive and fought for them.

No plans of changing.

I'm not fickle for now.

But today I saw you

running to my direction.

I noticed your tie.

There, you had me.

Can't help being cheesy when you are smitten. College days.

Rainy Bike Day

2011-08-11T19:37:00.009+08:00

The weather looked lovely so I borrowed our employee's bike (since I don't have one and my dad won't buy) and went to the village across our house.

As soon as I crossed the street it started to drizzle. I looked for a shade and found myself sheltering with a bunch of people also keeping themselves dry. Then the rain stopped and some guys went out and played basketball.

This reminds me watching football on TV with my dad and he'd say football should be the sport Filipinos be playing and not basketball 'coz we're not blessed with the height. But he don't say that these days anymore. Football is becoming a craze.

So I pedaled into the village and then it rained again. Strike 2. I went into a sari-sari store and waited for the rain to stop when 2 young boys each bringing a harp stopped by. They came from Inayawan, Pardo, about less than a kilometer from the village, to sell their instrument or just carol. Here in the Philippines Christmas season starts on -ber season and sometimes even way earlier.

They asked if they could play for me.

A damsel in distress (punked by the weather), a bike, two strangers wanting to serenade her, and the rain. How romantic could it get.

They just stood there after they played and I started to feel a bit awkward. I wondered what's next. I forgot that they were caroling and not serenading and caroling here means music, in tune or not, in exchange for money. I didn't bring anything with me except my camera so I made the smartest bargain I could come up with: Take a photo of them, upload it on facebook and tag them.

Business. Win-win situation.

The rain stopped and I biked again.

Then it rained again. Strike 3. This time it was hard.

I stopped under a tree and hoped not to get too wet but it was raining madness so I went inside a parked jeepney where a lola was also taking cover. Gotta be polite with elders so I said Hi and she just stated the obvious: There is no driver. Hmm?

Rain stopped and I hopped into my bike for the nth time. I circled the village for a couple of times and got bored so I went out into the highway and went to the subdivision a couple of meters away.

Sun came out and the ground was dry again. I was gonna take a photo of the mountains but I ended up with this. What clutters.

Electric cobwebs. This is no friendly neighborhood for Spiderman.

I saw some kids playing and I asked if I could join them. Hello, new bikemates! =)

Unleashed the kid in me.

Now, don't we look cute :P

Project bicycle is not yet dead. My dream of having a bike is still so much alive. And how can I not be more hopeful when I got home and my dad asked if I had fun? He used to be so apprehensive about it. I think that was a good sign.

Garden

2011-08-08T19:32:00.002+08:00

Late post.

Last month's hike in Banawa.

Tick It Off

2011-08-02T21:02:00.085+08:00

I have tons of notebooks and most of them end up as scratch. By scratch I mean doodles or notes on a few pages and then it gets shoved in my drawer waiting to be revisited. I've got this one cute notebook though that I often bring to school since last year. It always comes in handy during boring lectures and my mind wandering off to some distant land which unchains my frustrations then off I go scribbling.

I was scanning through it and found this page: a mini bucket list. It's undated but I'm pretty sure I wrote it in the month of December 2010 since I planned to do item #2 for Christmas. I just ticked some of them today.

*DA: date achieved

I have lots of to-do lists. Is it me or are my memory cells just growing less in number? Just a few pages after that one on the photo above is another list (and some ugly doodles) I did some weeks ago. It's more about the places I'm gonna visit just within the city and a little beyond.

Read Away

2011-07-28T17:49:00.003+08:00

Getting into med school is a submission to eternal reading. You attend school for four years, you read. You graduate and go into post-grad internship, you read. You finish internship and prepare for the board exams, you read. You sell or donate your books and you think reading is over, you're wrong. You get into residency and when you get your first pay check you spend it for new textbooks and then you read em.

Some textbooks.

So far all my books' worth would equate to two brand new bikes. That accounting is from a frustrated cyclist.

I don't even know why I'm writing this blog when I should be somewhere else reading. Sometimes I wish leaning my head on top of a book on a table (ninja sleeping) would enable passive diffusion of all the content from the book to my brains. If that was possible I wouldn't mind sleeping on a bed of books.

Back in first year I always had a novel in my bag. It was the same book for that whole first semester because I only took it out when I'm doing nothing which is only very seldom. I find it dumb that I still squeeze in my fiction books when I can't even finish reading my textbooks. It's suicide for my grades and yet I still do it. Forbidden pleasures.

Second year into med school I find the reading load more than double the first year. I'm always chasing time. I still go out a lot, like a lot, a lot and it makes me wish there were more than 24 hours in a day.

Reading the weekend away and squeezing in some bits and pieces <3

... like baking cartoons.

Some cutesy stuff we make out of extra dough at home.

Lost Art: Tangible Letters

2011-07-20T01:39:00.006+08:00

I have a special love for tangible letters.

Back when I was in high school my favorite girl, Jane, asked me what I wanted for Christmas. I couldn't think of any. Not that I don't want any gift--who wouldn't? I just can't think of anything so I told her to just write me a card / letter for Christmas. It must have left her puzzled 'cause she gave me a shirt. Not the wearable shirt though but the kind of shirt with "I Love Cebu" printed on it that you hang in your car . Back then letters were synonymous to tiny nationalistic shirts. But it's true that wisdom grows with age 'cause years later letters didn't mean shirts anymore. That's some tongue twister for you.

Reading a letter and holding it at the same time is a package of delight. The touch of paper, calligraphy, ink, dents and whatnot. I'm talking textural but we know it's more than that.

A custom-made valentine card I got from my seatmate in high school.

"Please promise me to read this alone."

Secrets :P I had to blur part of my pseudoname to save my dignity.

Talk about crushes and obsessions.

What's sweeter than a tangible letter is the surprise of having it right there before your eyes within your reach. I like sending mails via post office for one reason: Stamps. Courier services don't have that, do they?

The downside is that unless you send it way earlier, it reaches the address so late no matter the distance. I am fine with delayed gratification though. I don't know if it's only in the Philippines where it takes 4 months for a mail to reach an address a few kilometers away from the post office. If I feel the itch on my wandering legs I sometimes send it house to house with limited radius, of course.

Just last week I found a mail on my table. My excitement was as quick as my disappointment when I found out it was a mail I sent last Christmas, SEVEN months ago. It was addressed to a friend who lived 2 kilometers from my house. I should have included a sketch on it. Mails boomerang, too, you know, albeit in a span of months. You get a "Merry Christmas" card on the month of July. *FACEPALM*

SNAIL MAILS are the sweetest! =)

And don't you just love the memories that go along with the letters. You can re-read them a million of times even without electricity. That's me favoring handwritten letters over electronic mails.

Santa's letter way back Christmas 1998. Oh, memories.

I have a lot of postcards in my drawer, too. I keep them in the hope of mailing them to someone someday. I mailed a couple of them to some parts of the world. If you give me your address I might send you one too.

SERIOUSLY.

#FollowFriday: Rica's Cafe

2011-07-09T03:13:00.008+08:00

Just to remove some cobwebs here in my blog...

Thursday nights I sleep with a smile on my face because I know I will be waking up to Friday's clouds, sunshine, and music. Uneventful or not, as long as it's the F day, it's gonna be awesome. What's in a day's name? I don't really know.

This Friday I drove, with Friday madness on the radio, mind you, to Ma. Luisa in Banilad for a lovely dinner with my lotsa-times seatmate, Rochelle. I hadn't seen her for months!! And could timing be any more perfect? Yesterday a mail greeted me in the morning. It was a Christmas card I snail mailed to her last year which apparently boomeranged after 7 long months. What mailing service does this province have? T_T I was happy to give it to her personally anyway. Advanced/Belated Merry Christmas, Roch!!

We had dinner at this tiny cafe called Rica's. It was a really lovely place, just my type. It's quiet and romantic <3 *wink* We were too busy talking I forgot I had a camera with me. I would have loved to show you more pictures. The ones I took are =/

This is a pizza which we got for free. I actually thought it was a vegetable salad. I have an Enjoy card which I won from zerothreetwo.com last summer. It's about time I got to use it. It expires in a couple of months.

Rochelle and some Quesadilla. I love how restaurants serve these appetizers.

Outside.

We were so stuffed we only ate half of everything we ordered. We were practically eating stories the whole time.

Sunny Day

2011-06-05T14:22:00.004+08:00

Looking back on the first day of summer at the last day of summer. Such happiness. I would relive it right now.

This must be my longest diary entry so far. Most pages are just... so empty.

I'm dreading school which starts tomorrow. I take back what I said on my previous blog.

At least my uniform is ready

2011-06-03T00:50:00.002+08:00

My uniforms will be celebrating their monthsary in my closet 2 days from now, shut away from pollution and civilization, somewhere deep where the sun doesn't shine so its horror won't disturb me while I enjoy my first ever no-class summer since high school.

Class starts in a few days and I wouldn't mind them overstaying in my closet unless they transform into some jeans, something to conceal my summer souvenirs. I've a couple of hideous spots on my legs which are totally unflattering; plus one wet dirty wound fortunately requiring to be covered. Obvious disguise.

I'm ready for school I think. Well, I'm not dreading it, so yeah I must be ready. Will try sleeping for four or five hours tonight to mark my last weekend. It's like the ribbon-cutting part minus the ribbon and the scissors. What??

Best summer so far.

Binuthan Cave

2011-05-15T01:02:00.011+08:00

April 30, 2011 Saturday I went with Bal and Rochelle, the same cute guys I was with in Argao, to Binuthan Cave in Morga, Cebu.

We were supposed to go there with a (?professional) guide but we were cost-cutting (whatever) so we went there on our own plus a local guide, which was much cheaper. Bal did a reconnaissance a few days before the trip. He's quite suicidal.

Dropped off at 10am somewhere in Bonbon and went down a steep mountain. I was practically bumming at home weeks prior so the descent made my legs seem to wobble, aside from other more unfortunate events

>.< So point is to do some exercise.

Smiles of girls who were temporarily relieved of some climbing.

Fresh buko snack.

Going up to Binuthan cave. My favorite part of the trip.

Eeeee fresh water <3 <3 <3

Mouth of Binuthan Cave. You could use some fats to keep you warm and afloat in these waters.

Lots of rocks above and below.

Because the water at the mouth of the cave is so deep, we had to use some inflatable to get through. Those are my little sisters' life jackets Rochelle and I were wearing. Just maximizing the resources. :P

Walking through this part of the cave reminded me of Britney's MV of Not a girl not yet a woman.

It took us an hour and a half to get to the end of the cave.

End of Binuthan Cave

To make the most of our trip we decided to check another cave nearby.

With Rochelle and Bal.

Facebook is always watching.

Even when you're far from civilization, do mind your fashion. Unfortunately I don't mind very much of what I wear so I never pictured myself when I grabbed my clothes that morning. It's stupid to have polka dots and stripes in one get-up. Gah! I should have been a man.

Field of cabbages. It's my first to see a field of vegetables so I did feel like it was an achievement.

Bucketlist:

~~see a field of vegetables~~

Satuhan Cave

It's a chapel inside. We thought it's a boring place as you can see in the photo the end is seen from the entrance but it's actually for extreme caving as you have to rappel down to explore. We didn't know about the extreme caving thing until I posted the photos on facebook and someone commented. Told you facebook is always watching.

*Photos by Bal

Gruelling

2011-05-05T22:36:00.002+08:00

Apparently, I’ve enrolled myself to years of long, sleepless nights for a dream that I’ve been chasing since I was a kid. And as I write this I am comforted with the thought that I can sleep innocently tonight and a couple more weeks not having to worry that I should instead be staying up late and skip the comforts of my bed to study for an exam.

It's been a month since the last day of first year in med school -- first year which was more like four years squeezed in 10 months. I don't know how long the next 3 years will seem like. But let me not think about that now for I am in my grandest summer break to date.

Some highlights:

I was ambitious.

First week in med school we were given activity sheets and one question asked: How many pages can you read in an hour? I wrote 30. I could do that with novels. No problem with comprehension. Well, technically, I was being honest but being stupid at the same time by comparing novels with textbooks. February this year and 9 months in med school, the activity sheets were returned and imagine the ha ha ha I had with my classmates after realizing what a joke I made of my reading rate. With my medical books, I can read maximum 20 pages an hour with 50% or less comprehension. I'd read it 2 more times and I'm still not assured of passing the exam. Something is wrong with my brain.

I've read this probably 5 times and I still can't master it. What a head I have.

I love the color orange after all.

If I were asked what's one color I hate, it would be orange. It just looks so hot that if I were to put a thermometer into anything orange, the temperature would read fever.

Back in pre-med, I never highlighted my books. Heck, I didn't even read them (thank you, hand-me-down notes!). But in med school, I realized I couldn't pass it without reading my books. I also learned the importance of highlighters (markers) and I became a patronizer of Stabilo Swing Cool. Orange, most especially.

My pencil case. It contains everything you need. Stapler, scissors, tape, fastener, sharpener, refrigerator, tv, a house. It's like a swiss army knife, except that it's a pencil case. Some statement right there.

Most of us use more than one color. One for the word and another for the definition. And sometimes another color for superlatives like "this is the most..." It's like coloring your book but with discipline. And sometimes when we can't get enough, we use a ball pen to emphasize it more ,if that's possible.

Sleeping is STILL inevitable.

Fortywinking during lectures.

During lectures, it just needs proper positioning to be a ninja. Just hold a book or a pen and pretend you're reading or writing. This strategy has never failed me. Not yet.

In the library, especially during siesta time, I always have this bad habit of sleeping ON my books. Some of my books even have souvenirs from my sleeping sessions, if you know what I mean. /ijustsoldmyself

You can't afford to get sick, even psychologically.

I only get headaches probably not more than once in two weeks. I have a healthy head. But halfway through first semester I was having them every single day for more than a month and I thought I had a growing cancer tumor in my brain. /paranoid /hypochondriac /crazy. Healthy head, sick mind.

Diary entry.

I can't remember how I managed to get through those days with the throbbing headache, plus I was burping eternally due to my gut problems. I was already looking for a neurologist to have my head checked when I the little remaining sanity of mine told me I should see an eye doctor first. So I went to see an ophthalmologist and he said I'm just stressed and that I should take a break so take a break I did. I spent the entire weekend not reading a single page which was like suicide for my grades but what the heck, I need to get my normal head back, and it actually worked.

Innards are not so gross.

First day with our group's cadaver, who we named Rose (and still with a wedding ring, mind you), we were so scared. We handled her so gently like she was fragile but really, she's stiff as a bark. We wore gowns, masks, goggles (to keep the formalin from our eyes), and most importantly, gloves. Then we were instant butchers. Whatever happened to handling her gently. We still prayed though, and at the same time we sliced her body, sawed her cranium, detached her limbs, poked her eyes, pulled her organs out. We got so comfortable with it we sometimes dissected her with bare hands.

The human brain.

The butchers. That's the table where our cadaver is placed. Before and after this photo was taken, these guys were looking for the ear ossicles (ear bones, the smallest in the body) of our cadaver. That's the skull the girl, Mariz, is holding.

Ah, there were also times that the cadavers would have maggots on and in it. What a lovely appetizer, as anatomy laboratory sessions always end right before lunch.

You won't believe the amount of information they want you to know.
You won't believe the amount of information you can forget.

This is so frustrating.

A doctor professor's reply to my journal.

I've tried rock-hard and I still feel like an idiot sometimes but I must have been a good girl 'cos I passed.

This post is in my drafts for a month already. Cutting it short. Happy summer!

Argao Trek and Spelunk: Balay sa Agta and Bugasok Falls

2011-04-07T21:41:00.012+08:00

The day right after final exams, I went with Bal and my high school and med school classmate, Rochelle, to south of Cebu, Argao.

I stumbled upon blogger Mark Salvador who wrote about some really interesting places in Cebu, mailed him and he suggested Balay sa Agta and Bugasok Falls in Argao. I couldn't think of anybody else better to take with me other than Bal and Rochelle. They both love the outdoors. Roch is a wall climber who wanted to try caving and Bal is a cyclist who is ready to die anytime. They haven't gone trekking nor caving ever so we were all first timers. :) Mark said the cave is easy to find so we didn't mind getting a guide beforehand. And Rochelle sorta wanted to get lost, ala Bear Grylls -- he's the man!

Minimal things to bring:

flashlight / headlamp
water
food
money

I tend to overpack so my actual list was quite longer.

Rendezvoused with the group at 8am, took the bus from the South Bus Terminal (Php 79), arrived in Argao then took the habal-habal (motorcycle) (Php 50) to Usmad River. We started walking at 10am.

I live in the city and haven't gone to many provinces. This is the 2nd clean river I have seen in my entire life. And the first that I have crossed. It felt so nice.

A lot of blogs I've read about getting to the cave said that you just have to keep looking up to the right to be able to see the mouth of the cave. We kind of forgot that part and tenenenen... we ended up GETTING LOST. We just kept walking and walking and following this narrow trail which wasn't really so bad coz the view of the trees, rocks, insects and the sound of the river were so lovely. (Excuse the city girl). And I also learned something from my company: as long as there's a trail there'll always be people somewhere.

So unless you want to waste your time looking for civilization, keep looking to the right to find a huge hole on a wall.

We reached an isolated house (which was such a relief after walking for so long without seeing any human) and asked for directions. We gave up on our sense of direction and asked Manong Sammy and his kid to guide us to the cave and the falls.

Rochelle and Bal standing in the mouth of the cave.

It was a very steep climb getting up here from the river. Going to the mouth of the cave takes a lot of courage. You can't walk through without looking where your feet are, which means looking down and looking down the cliff. You have to be very careful or you fall down to a bed of rocks. One friend who lives in Argao told me that the way to the cave is very perilous. You just got to have the go-for-it attitude. We're so glad we got lost and found our guide who helped us along the way. <---- This contradicts what I said about looking to the right to find the mouth of the cave.

Inside the cave is pitch black. You can't find your way through without a headlamp or flashlight. Rochelle actually bought a headlamp the day prior. It was a bit pricey but she was so excited and was hoping to visit more caves. :P I brought with me my dad's headlamp which he uses when he's fixing stuff. Bal held a flashlight. XD

In the middle of the cave is the "skylight" where you can find a hole right above. Notice how high the roof is.

We got in the cave a little past noontime. It was perfect timing 'cause the sun was just right overhead so the rays shone right through the hole. The rays were so defined, it's exactly how it looks like on the photo.

Isn't it grand.

We got out of the cave (same where we entered) around 2pm. We were already hungry. We would've wanted to just eat inside the cave but thought it would be better if we crossed the "perilous" path first before enjoying our meals. I find it better if the bad things come first before the good ones.

We had lunch in a tiny glade under some some trees for shade. We brought packlunch. Original plan was to have lunch in Bugasok Falls but we got lost. Ergo, behind schedule.

After lunch, we headed to Bugasok Falls. It wasn't too far from the cave. Most of the people who come here start off from the falls (which you can reach by motorcycle) then go down to the cave. It will only take probably less than 30 min. But we took the other route where we started from the river way down the waterfall. The views we had with the route we took were so pretty I'm glad we chose that route.

Bal on top of Bugasok Falls

Bugasok Falls. It is lovely. But I don't think it's too safe to jump down there. I would've loved to though.

After checking the waterfall, we went up ahead where the current isn't too strong. We rested for a little while. Bal took a dip. He couldn't resist.

A quarter before 4pm we left the river and went to the road. We were walking up to the barrio hall looking for a motorcycle to bring us back to Argao Market. It was a very long walk, and steep at that. As Rochelle said, it was the longest 30mins or so of her life. She said she was walking at the speed of less than 1 m/s. Haha! Who wouldn't be tired after walking for 6 hours? It would've been less if we didn't get lost.

The looooooong walk.

We got onto a motorcycle almost 5pm, had some snack and took the bus home. The travel going home always seems shorter, don't you think?

Three very happy people that day. I prayed so much for this trip to be safe. And safe it was, plus a good weather. It's finally summer.

Photos by Bal and me.

*We paid Manong Sammy Php 300. He said "Kamo ray bahala," when we asked him how much he'd charge. I think that was enough? We're still students :P

Total expenses for that day: Php 400.

More photos here.

Not that I'm the best person to ask but feel free to ask me (mail or comment) if you need any more information about getting there.

I See Fields of Green

2011-03-05T19:20:00.005+08:00

Last Saturday afternoon my friend Bal brought me to Kan-Irag. It was so sunny that I looked scarlet the next two days. But who cares? The place was a beauty.

I've never flown a kite until that day. And I never thought my first kite-flying would include Dora the explorer. See her? She's so tiny and uncooperative. She always finds a way to dive.

Going up.

After some walking, we settled under a tree and just talked. It was so sunny (obviously) but the wind was so cold :) This must be my favorite part of the trip.

Okay I practically ruined the photo here. It was an attempt to do a jump photo but it would have looked good without me in it. At least I camouflaged with the tree so it's still basically the sky, trees, and grass.

The day prior, I was at the sports complex with Jane and she asked me to cartwheel. I told her I'll do it tomorrow at some place where there are fewer people to see my talent. This photo is for her.

Sunset

I miss the place already. The trees, grass, the sun, wind, the quality time you get here with the person you're with. It is so beautiful up there I would go back in a heartbeat.

how to memorize, the green way

2011-02-04T23:02:00.007+08:00

/random /green /nevermind, really /skip this

We are down to our penultimate unit, Neuroanatomy. As the word implies, it's about the nervous system but we'd rather call it the nervous breakdown. It's just too complicated that we're always hoping for a miracle every time we have an exam, written or practical. I can't seem to fully understand a chapter even after reading it twice.

But understand or not, we have to memorize the names, details, and pathways of the nerves and impulses and whatnot, else we fail. And I find it amusing that almost all of the mnemonics we have are well... green.

CRANIAL NERVES I - XII:

Olfactory, Optic, Occulomotor, Trochlear, Trigeminal, Abducens, Facial, Acoustic, Glossopharyngeal, Vagus, Accessory, Hypoglossal

Mnemonics:

Oh, Oh, Oh, To Touch And Feel A Girl's V, Ahh Heaven!

----------------------------------------

FUNCTIONAL COMPONENT:

Sensory Sensory Motor Motor Both Motor Both Sensory Both Both Motor Motor

Mnemonics:

Some Say Money Matters But My Brother Says Big Boobs Matter Most

----------------------------------------

OPENINGS:

Cribriform plate, Optic canal, Superior Orbital fissure, Foramen Rotundum, Foramen Ovale, Superior Orbital Fissure, Internal acoustic meatus, Jugular foramen, Hypoglossal canal

Mnemonics:

Can Over Sex Relieve Our Inner Jealous Hearts?

Actually, there are some which are wholesome but we tend to remember easily the sexy green ones.

Maybe if you cut through our heads, aside from finding those structures in the photos below, our heads will be oozing with green whatever fluid. We are aliens, you can say that.

The human brain.

Yeah, we get so immune to it that we hold it with our bare hands. We watched our technician saw right through our cadaver's head. o.O

The brainstem.

We had a tragic practical exam with this weird looking thing today.

So I thank you, Friday, for coming over, albeit not on a fast forward pace. I'll have to rest my very own brain over the weekend by hopefully going somewhere really cool <-- this I have to plan where to.

SINULOG 2011

2011-01-21T16:18:00.006+08:00

Spent Sinulog this year with the same faces plus some few new ones. Didn't do long distance walking as we used to do the previous years. It's my first time to get anything painted on my skin. I would've wanted to get a henna tattoo (since I've never tried it yet) but opted the colorful face paint instead to match my clothes. O.O I ended up looking like a mobiling string of banderitas.

Photos grabbed from Jolly and AC who happened to have a new huge black whatchamacallit camera.

Went out at 2 PM. Pretty late. Blamed the rain. But lucky to have an awesome parking space!

Never had any photo of the Sinulog mardi gras ever in history. So when we saw these two guys who happened to take the shortcut from the parade route, we (or just I, to be safe) asked to have a picture taken with them.

Faces still (slightly) clean.

Spell PARTY.

It was only until the photos were posted when we knew that these guys were a band from Italy (had someone not told us). We were too busy dancing and screaming to ask people who they were and where they're from.

Heard them say, "Man, this is wild! My first Sinulog!" Lol.

So very much on a high.

Had dinner somewhere nice and a little less noisy

Spent the last few hours of the night over coffee and good conversations.

I'm still having a hangover although milder now :))
Sinulog seems to get better every single year! I can't wait for next year's!!

Lovelies

2010-12-27T21:27:00.000+08:00

For the past two years my girls and I celebrate Christmas together on the 27th. It's Alyssa who chose the time and place this year: lunch at Arano Restaurant in Guadalupe.

Arano Restaurant Facade. It reminds me of the movie the Secret Garden except that it has less vines.

It's a hidden place. You literally have to hunt for it and that's basically what I love about it -- since it's hidden, then it's private and quiet. We were actually the only ones around that time.

Left the place stuffed and pockets un-empty. Yeah, food was very affordable. I don't know what they were talking about that they all looked so happy (on that photo above) walking to the car. I had to click on my camera.

Went to Ayala thereafter and bumped into Ann who was with her siblings, and Earl who just came back from NJ.

And here's a postcard I made for the girls. I just noticed that I spelled lovelies wrongly. They loved it anyhow.

Merry Christmas!

Two Wheels and Pedals

2010-12-26T23:29:00.007+08:00

I was looking around active zone in Ayala today for the first time (I am a loser) and went inside Rox, an outdoor sporting goods store, where someone I know bought his bike. Pretty neat, huh, buying a bike from a mall where everything is almost twice or more the price in downtown Colon. Checked out their bikes. Most of them were climbing up to a hundred K. Price tags hurt my eyes, so I played with the Nalgene bottles instead and tried to decide what color to buy when I got reason to <-- when I get a bike.

This is an old bike from our business. It doesn't fit well and tires my legs quickly.

I don't remember wanting anything as bad as I am wanting a bike now. Sure, when I was 12 years old there were nights when I wished so hard of waking up to the coolest cellphone. I cringe at the stupidity of my childhood wants. I wish I was more reasonable, but what the heck. So now I'm 21 and wanting a bike. I got better reasons for wanting such. I learned to bike when I was around 7 years old. My dad bought us this cute pink Barbie bike but it was our carpenter who taught me how to ride it without the training wheels. My sisters and I used to bike around the compound or in the village across our house and I once hit a kid coz I didn't brake. Kid's mom told me to stop biking so I stopped. I stopped biking in that village, at least. But I still biked, only somewhere else: in the cemetery.

It is the only place my dad doesn't complain of us biking. It's all green and sunny and safe and close to Mommy too. But it's like 10km from our place and we have to overhaul our car just to fit the bike in. It's a tiring prep and drive.

Since high school, I've little dreamed of going to school on a bike. We have employees who live pretty far and they bike to work. It interests me. Six years have passed and I still haven't realized that dream yet. Pretty dumb a dream to start with, don't you think? I should first be dreaming of having a bike to ride.

I did ask a bike from my dad.

Jamis Trail X2 2011

I saw it in a shop (YKK) I visited in downtown. Seems real neat. A biker friend told me it's a good buy seeing the specs. I don't know what good really is. As long as it brings me to places (with a few conditions), then it is good.

But good or bad bike, my dad won't support me in any way. It is dangerous (for him, at least) and my being a girl complicates it even more. I don't have money to buy it so it's all up to my dad.

I'm temporarily at a dead end. It is a sad situation, and the holidays spirit is no help. The only thing that's keeping me hopeful is the lottery and my first paycheck which is 4 or 5 years from now, God willing.

Happy holidays, you guys.

December in Photos

2010-12-26T01:21:00.003+08:00

I've been such a bore. But this month wasn't.

6th: CIM Students' Night. I am Esmeralda -- dressed as, at least. Quasimodo looked so... tree-ish. Haha! My partner, Alfred is adorbs! *Dads' cam

7th: Alpha Mu Sigma Phi Christmas Party. Sounds like a fraternity yes? It's just an organization of medical students and doctors.

10th: Med Congress at Radisson Blu. Oh yes, the freebies were all we were stoked about.

11th: Groupie Christmas Party. We were on a highest high.

12th: Guadalupe fiesta. Never missed it in 5 years.

18th: Groupie Dadz's 22nd at Cafe Georg. Bombed the place with so much laughter.

22nd: High school Christmas party. It never ends.

24th: Busy slicing breads. That's my little sister wearing my dress when I was her age. She found it in the bodega and insisted on wearing it. Kids.

I still got parties to attend to before the year ends. But here you go. I'll be busy with my books when I get back here.

Some photos grabbed from Chen. Edited most of 'em.

Landmarks and Trip Hop

2010-11-15T22:01:00.013+08:00

It's two weeks past semestral break and I realized I hadn't done anything break-worthy but rest at home with all the little kids running around and breaking the door to my room. Now classes resume and I'm having a sembreak hangover.

So last Saturday, I had my break extended afternoon til very early morning.

I spent the afternoon wandering around the city with my non-Cebuano classmates, touring them around the landmarks of the Queen City of the South. They've been here for six months and some of them haven't even visited downtown. So our generous bud treated us to lunch and some drinks (on a sunny bright lunch) and a drive to wherever the tourists wanted to check out.

Sto. Niño Church

Fort San Pedro

Taoist Temple

I got home at dusk. Drained and dusty. But not so tired to call it a day.

I had supper at home with the family and thought if I should go out with my girls as planned. I was tired. I texted them I might not push through, which was actually disappointing coz I was the one who asked them out for tonight.

Ultimately, I decided to go. Trip hop band from Manila, Drip, was to play at the restobar we were going to, and I'm borderline obsessed with the genre. After slight pleading for my dad to let me go out, I was driving to the mall to pick up the girls and headed on to where all roads lead to on a Saturday night: The Outpost.

It's a personal favorite place. And I was in very good timing to have picked the right place at the right time. Their special guest, Drip, was wicked, "capable of giving you simulated bliss." They play trip hop, which is between hip hop and house/trance. I had to tell my friends a little about the music and the band too, since I was the only one who was into the genre. They might have not appreciated it as much as I did, but I'm pretty sure they enjoyed it. These types of music give me happiness without compare and heck, I'm running out of adjectives, but if happiness means smiling thinking of that night up to this day, then yes, that might be the word.

Drip's Song Number 9

This is what trip hop is like

For an awesome-er track, click here.

I'm through with sembreak. Now I'm having that Saturday night hangover.

What's the Fastest Animal On Land?

2010-10-30T23:48:00.003+08:00

/a very random subject.

I remember when I was around 10 years old I crawled under our bed, rummaging through the boxes my mom stuffed down there. Those weren't my things. But you know how curious children can be. There were four boxes of the same size, all heavy. Just the sight of a box makes you wonder and be excited to find out what's in it. So I couldn't wait to see what's in if for me, and guess what I found? Thick heavy National Geographic magazines. There were more than a hundred of them.

I don't know if it was pure boredom or OC-ness that I took them all out from the boxes and arranged them, according to dates, in the shelves. Some had multiple issues and some were missing. My dad didn't mind me touching them until I had some school projects where I had to cut some pictures out of the magazines. He told me I could instead just use the pictures from Newsweek or the newspapers. Looking through the magazines today, I know why he didn't want us cutting them. They were too good. We even have the famous 1985 Afghan Girl, Titanic revisit, and centennial issues. I didn't know my dad subscribed way back long ago. Bud I do know he frequents the channel.

One night I was on bed waiting to fall asleep when my dad came in and asked me to see something on TV. He sounded so excited about it I could hear his smile in his voice in the dark. So I went to the sala it was about otters on NGC. What the heck, I didn't even know what they were. Then my dad started talking about them being half-water half-land creatures and how amazing it was whatever they were doing on that show. I can't really remember what that episode was about, but I can never forget my dad's excitement.

My family enjoys gathering in the sala and watching TV and we've grown to love the channel and watch it together. And I don't really like telling people about how much I love and love to watch it, like, really telling people that it's my favorite channel and that I always always watch it . Like this teen girl one time on the radio who was asked what her favorite channel was and she said it's NGC. I think people who say that want to sound smart. (Sorry! But really?? If I were asked that, I would probably answer HBO or Star Movies.) And then the dj asked her what's the fastest animal on land in the planet and she couldn't even answer. I know cheetahs are the fastest, and I didn't know it by watching NGC, actually. Haha! So much for trying to make a good impression, lady.

Just a year or two ago, our cable operator added Discovery Channel. I wasn't sure if I was happy about it, because apparently I was on NGC's side. Are there even sides to these stuff? Haha. But they have some really good shows too. Especially I Shouldn't Be Alive. It is an awesome documentary of true survival stories. And their "because the world is awesome" ad is really really cool.

Anyway, NGC has this really amazing series, Great Migrations, premiering on November 7, 2010 Sunday 8pm. They've been advertising it since August-September. Their trailers kept getting better and better and so much better, I can't wait to see it! It's this show that prompted me to write this blog. It's a 3-year project and according to them, it's their most ambitious endeavor in their 122-year history. How huge could it be? My dad's probably going to record it on VHS.

Stop All the Clocks

2010-10-07T21:13:00.016+08:00

I woke up to a dark sky and a little bit of rain.

It's my mom's 10th, and it's the same weather the day she left.

Ten years is long and my memory is slowly, depressingly fading.

I miss everything about her.

Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.

Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message She Is Dead,
Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.

She was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last for ever: I was wrong.

The stars are not wanted now: put out every one;
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood.
For nothing now can ever come to any good.

W.H.Auden

Photo by Loralyn Lau. Taken at my mom's resting place, 2008.

She Taught Me How to Smile

2010-07-30T21:12:00.007+08:00

We were in a cab on a rainy night. I asked her how to look good on stage for a particular event coming. The one thing she told me that she knew she was sure about was that I should give a heartfelt smile. I didn't know what that meant. I was 10 years old. So I asked her.

"This is a heartfelt smile," she said, with a smile she just described, "and this one is a fake." I was looking at her face with the help of the yellow street lights as the cab was moving.

That was a month before she passed away. Ten years ago.

I just looked through pictures of her in albums and the ones hanging on our walls. I just remembered she didn't smile a lot in pictures. And now it's painful to try to imagine so hard her smile. I just realized it recently: It's fading... my memory is.

Some people look through my photos and tell me how happy I look, the way I smile. Just a couple of weeks ago a random stranger messaged me about my smile. That was weirdly flattering. But it led me to think of the person who literally taught me how to smile. My mom.

This is a picture taken around 1992, I guess, at our house in Oman, with our neighbors. This is the only picture I could find of her with the biggest smile. It's not so big, actually. But it's the only one I could find. She's only got a few. I don't know how she managed to teach me how to smile when I could find too few pictures of her doing so.

I've been thinking and writing a lot about my mom lately. And I just wish she'd visit me in my dreams. We'd talk and share smiles. It's been so long since. I can't even remember the last time.

That Small Voice

2010-07-25T23:47:00.005+08:00

Its been 2 nights since I partly wrecked the lives of 2 men, and my conscience is haunting me worse each passing hour.

Two nights since my heart was beating audibly so strong I thought I could die by then.

They sustained some wounds on their faces. Not huge enough to have them admitted, although one of them required 5 stitches. Both parties violated some rules. Over speeding, DUI, no right of way.

I was so cruel, having accused them of overtaking and whatever wrong there was possible, when actually, I was unscathed. And them . . .

I was crying, raising my voice, blaming them for their own injuries. I didn't care what happened to them.

That was how it used to be. Two nights ago.

Now I want to find them and see how they're doing.

I have to go to church and confess. But whatever I do, whatever anybody says, that will never reach this deep, still, small voice inside of me that is telling me that I have done something wrong. Something awfully wrong that I just dwarfed that night.

I had no plans of writing about it anywhere, especially here. But it's hard to just act like its nothing when the thought of it just keeps on replaying in my mind and this guilt feeling growing like a vine. So I'm telling you now. There is no greater agony than an untold story.

Gloomy

2010-07-19T17:02:00.015+08:00

I was surfing the internet for few of my favorite people and I am, without fail, always amused by the talent they have. Such awesome artists with so much humility. No they're not celebrities, they're just some random people I found on the internet, with ordinary jobs and simple looks, and just living within my country, but whose talents keep me visiting their pages again and again.

I want to be as good as them. Be able to draw and paint, sing and play those instruments with so much ease as a feather is flying with the wind. But all that's left of me now are frustrations. I could only sit here and think of how gifted these people are and how much I wish I was too.

I'm 20. I could have done so much.

*photo by inertia09 on DA

Geek Love

2010-06-07T19:45:00.011+08:00

I'm guessing it will be a long time until I can post a new entry here, so here's something I have been wanting to write for quite a while now.

RANDOM FACT:

When I was in my primary education, Math was a subject I wanted to do really well. And I actually did, although I didn't top the class as being the best in that area. It continued in high school when I always tried to give my best during our math exams. One time a teacher announced to the class that a few of us will be chosen to represent the school for a local math quiz bee and I was at the edge of my seat waiting for my name to be called. Yeah, I was assuming. Haha. I almost fell from my seat until the list was over. I wasn't called.

photo by tpphotography on DA

I was in my senior year when I did best, I think. First quarter of the school year I got a 94 on my class card. Imagine my delight seeing that figure on my list of grades. During class, my math teacher never called me by my name but the day when I claimed my report card with my dad, she gave me a smile and called me by my name and handed me my card personally, though she wasn't my adviser. It was a proud moment as I showed my dad how much I did well on his favorite subject too.

Then during a graduation party of my close friend, my math teacher approached me and congratulated me for topping the Math diagnostic exam among the entire batch of two hundred and plus. I felt like I had wings behind me. It was a heavenly euphoric moment. I couldn't wait to tell my dad. He was the only one I could share it to without sounding a swellhead.

College. I enrolled in a medical course to pursue my dream of becoming a medical doctor. We had Math subject the first two semesters. It was fun. But it was the last math course I would have to take. Soon, I joined in almost every math quiz bee elimination during Intramurals. I missed it too much. Unfortunately, there's too many of us screening for the spot and I was never good enough to reach top 3 out of 50+. I don't know if Math is sexist but I've noticed that top 3 players were always males. Always. Other college departments didn't have elimination rounds coz there were too few of them so whoever wanted to join was the player. Since then, I have dreamed little of being able to join a Math quiz bee. It still remains as a frustration today. But I'm still hoping. Even though it should require a miracle. Where can I find a quiz bee after school?

Help You Cross the Street

2010-04-25T21:45:00.013+08:00

While I was waiting for the traffic light to turn red so I could cross the street, an old man walked by and stood beside me. He was in his sixties, and reminded me of an incident so fresh in my memory, it pains me upon remembering it.

Image by Hengki24 on DA

A year ago, I was at the same spot doing the same thing when an old woman was standing beside me. She was dressed neatly, wearing a white blouse and a long skirt. She was wearing a pair of eye glasses and was around 60 years old, bringing a couple of plastic bags which were huge enough to probably contribute to her flexed posture. It was early in the afternoon and I clearly saw her face. We looked each other in the eye and I would NEVER EVER forget the smile she gave me. It was generous and genuine. And I returned it with a smile, too, but I looked away right after, feeling a bit shy. A couple of seconds later, the light turned green and so we walked down the pedestrian lane. I was walking right beside her in my slower-than-normal pace because I didn't want to just "leave" her. Only past halfway across the street did I realize I was being rude. I bloody saw the huge plastic bags she was carrying yet I never bothered to offer her my assistance. Ashamed, I shrank inside. When we reached the other side of the road, we went opposite ways, which was a good thing, because I was so guilt-stricken.

Only in the movies do I see this help-an-old-lady-cross-the-street doing. I never thought I'd be in the same situation. Well, almost, that is, if only I had been really sensitive. Since then, I promised myself that if I would be put in the same situation again, I would do something more than flashing my set of teeth.

Now, every time an old man/woman stands beside me, I always look if they are bringing anything heavy, or just about anything they need help with. It's a very simple act yet very few do it. Until now, I still regret that day I just walked beside the old lady carrying heavy bags. It is a mistake I would never want to do again.

And it must have been a huge mistake, because it's been a year since and I haven't had the chance yet to cross the street with anyone apparently needing my help. I pray that old lady won't be the first and last.

There is nothing like the joy of doing good for others.

Although I have tried helping people (not elderly, and not with their loads), nothing makes up for the guilt feeling I had for that circumstance.

I Can Only Look Back at the Memories

2010-03-22T23:10:00.008+08:00

I was with my 3 friends, Jane, Alyssa and April, hanging around in our school lobby killing time. It was late in the afternoon and the campus was getting quiet. We were talking about ourteacher who was a terror because she once tried hitting us during our duty in the health center. ASSAULT. Alyssa told her mom about it and said her mom would sue the teacher if she'd get physically assaulted! I told them that my dad had another response when I told him about it. He just asked me if my teacher was old (or around his age) and if she was, then he wouldn't be shocked about it. He could relate. He said people like him and our teacher are really like that and that they would do things (like assault, I believe) just to discipline us. LOL. I agreed a bit.

I didn't talk about my mom, but Alyssa did and she said that my mom would have said the same thing her mom said. I just gave her the "maybe" look and gave it a thought.

My mom passed away 10 years ago.

I didn't know if my mom really would have said the same, that she would be suing my teacher if ever she crosses the line. But my friends told me they were sure she would have done the same.

That's me and my mom on October 20, 1990 in Sabro, Oman.

I was getting a bit sentimental trying to remember instances when my mom tried to defend me when I was a kid. I haven't really talked much about my mom with my friends. And my friends haven't asked me much about her neither. They must have known it would not be a comfortable talk. But today I guess my friends wanted to know.

Alyssa asked me if my mom was like hers: very supportive, kinda hip :), and makes chika with us. Jane and April were keen about my answer, but I was struggling to come up with one (which would only be a yes or no). Jane even joked that my mom and hers would have been close.

I tried to remember her. My mom was always calm. Yes she raised her voice on us, but she never shouted at us. I've never seen nor heard her and my dad fighting. She was sweet and loving. She was the best. And all of these thoughts flooded that I just started to get teary and couldn't stop myself from crying.

Sometimes people would ask me if I miss my mom and I would give them an answer like its a routine, "Yes."

But today was different. I missed her so much. And for the years that I have been (seemingly) repressing these emotions, I can only look back at the memories that bring me closest to her. Stuff we did together, her photos, clothes, videos of her especially when I hear her voice, her scent, and my dreams of her which I wish I would never wake up from.

Earning It

2010-03-14T17:51:00.014+08:00

I was at a gas station having my tires air pumped when a man passed by bringing chaffing dishes, tied in straws, for sale. By his looks he was in his late 30's, neat and kind-looking. It wasn't hard to miss him wearing a bright orange shirt on a sunny day. I looked at him and he gave me a light smile and he showed me the dishes saying they were only worth 200 pesos and I could pay it in installment basis, 10 pesos per day.

photo by Sir Danny Ybañez

I thought about buying one but eventually I said no, thinking I didn't have enough money with me and I won't be using that at home either. He walked ahead as I got inside the car and drove off to school. My heart broke. He didn't seem to be living somewhere near so it must have taken him a long walk to get there.

I wished I hadn't seen that man nor heard his selling. Did I hear him right? 10 pesos per day? Other than trying to persuade me to buy, he looked serious about it. My daily allowance was more than that and I barely need half of it for my essentials just to get through a day in school. What about him who, most probably, has his own family to support? Thinking about that man made me feel so awful I forced myself to think of other stuff just to get me distracted. It led me to think of another awful incident I had just days ago.

I was in a jeepney to school on an early morning. I was seated next to a man who looked old enough to be a parent and was dressed in a simple jeans-and-shirt for work. He seemed harmless. The next thing I know, he was surfing my pocket with his hand hid behind his bag. I saw his hand right beside me and my cellphone out of my pocket. Luckily, I wasn't too late. When I moved to check on my pocket, he immediately removed his hand from it, leaving my cellphone hanging just right there. He was a laggard and a loser, and he was good that way.

Two men trying to make a living. Hard way or easy way. Good way or bad way.

That night, I prayed for the chaffing dishes vendor to meet the fruits of his labor soon. As for the frustrated robber, I couldn’t help but loathe him up to this day.

It is sad to think that people do evil ways as a result of poverty. In the face of hopelessness, some people resort to doing a crime just to survive, even at the expense of other people’s lives. They go the easy way out. Whatever happened to striving for something to earn it?

Austen

2010-01-30T21:47:00.023+08:00

If there is one thing I'd like to have in my own house in the future, it would be a library. One as jaw-dropping as Belle's in Beauty and the Beast.

My love for books started when I was around 11 years old and curious when I discovered a novel my dad bought way back 1985. It was JRR Tolkien's The Hobbit. Well I've read some few Sweet Valley High's but they weren't enough to keep me wanting to read more until I've read The Hobbit. That was probably the only novel my dad ever bought.

So I started borrowing books from the library and my friends. Buying wasn't really an option. My allowance doesn't do me well. And my dad doesn't support me with this hobby. He's a huge huge huge reader, except for fiction. He'd rather buy me a new collection of General Information books rather than buying me novels. Argh. T_T

I go to malls usually ending up in bookstores. Looking for books I've heard/read some good stuff about. Most of the time I wish I hadn't entered because I would only be skimming through pages and putting them back on the shelves and be sad at the fact that I cannot bring them home.

Yesterday I was at Fully Booked in Ayala trying to decide if I should buy Jane Austen's Sense and Sensibility since it was at a really reasonable price and it came in a good package but I ended up putting it down because I remembered I had more important stuff to buy ASAP. Austen could wait--for years, I'm sure.

I was lining up in the cashier for my cheap item (a birthday card) when this man in front of me, along with his late-teen-year-old-looking daughter looking so excited, spoke in a very loud voice asking if he has a membership discount. The lady behind the cashier then packing like TEN POCKETBOOKS answered him, "Yes, sir. That would be 3,***.00 all in all."

If my ears had jaws, they would have dropped right away. But they didn't. And I almost died of jealousy. But before my demise, I remembered my own tiny conflict between Austen and my money, and the birthday card I was about to buy and I thought, "I'm sticking with you, birthday card. Austen is dead. So am I soon."

Jane Austen Portrait by stargatequeen on DA.

Shotgun

2010-01-29T21:07:00.010+08:00

I come by a soul

quirky yet mysterious

whose wits unlikely

and humor, wicked.

She happens to be a friend.

The cure and the cause

A curse and a blessing.

Born to be a four-eyed creature,

she trips over smooth ground

cries for a middle-aged man

but laughs over The Ugly Worm.

Emotions of hers kept hidden.

Digging we did but unearth we failed.

Then one Saturday, a paper arrived

Her secrets revealed.

I laughed, she cried.

Oatmeal sucker, her taste is bland

her eyes blind, and ears plugged

but she is one of the pretties

and happens to be my babe

a curse and a blessing

the cure and the cause.

Jane always riding shotgun in the car. One day it'll be my turn. ;)

Goatie Moviegoer

2010-01-10T22:45:00.016+08:00

by prohoroff on DA

Before I left for vacation in Manila last December, I made sure to watch Avatar in 3D because by the time I'll be back here in Cebu, all that's showing in theaters would be films for the MMFF. Moreover, I'm a die-hard fan of Titanic. I've seen it a million times, reruns over and over, and still cry. So this movie has been in my to-watch list for quite a long time since I've heard about it as another Cameron film.

After our college department's Christmas party in school, I went straight to the mall--despite the many invitations for an after party at my classmate's house--and bought a ticket for the last full show. Other than my bag, I was in good company with my free donut and drink. I was alone and it was my first time to watch a 3D movie, which meant wearing those huge shades so I could experience the 3rd dimension. But hey, I wasn't the only first-timer around. As the movie began, I could hear the wooooooows of the people who weren't able to keep silent about the amazement in front of their eyes. It was cool. I like it when grown-ups unleash the inner child in them. I smile to that. :)

The movie house was pretty full as I found myself sitting around people who had human company (unlike I did) whom they could talk with about the movie. I was so hooked up as the movie progressed. That's the advantage of being alone. You don't have anybody asking you what the hell just happened so you're left to just watching the movie and eating what-have-you all by yourself. I noticed a couple behind me whose voices were distracting coz they couldn't keep it low. The man would ask the girl a short question and the girl would answer a paragraph. It was annoying.

When Jake and Neytiri kissed, everyone was so silent and absorbed. I could feel my lips drawing a smile. Then the girl from behind me just suddenly broke off my delight and everyone else's by saying, "Hala ang mga kanding baya," (Oh, the goats are kissing). And she repeated it not just one time. I thought she was from another planet who just woke up and found herself in a movie house watching a GREAT movie but was unable to realize it coz her brain was too small to appreciate it. She was pathetic.

And I bet my seatmates shared the same thoughts I had.

I don't know if she felt awkward upon watching the kissing scene, but what the heck, she was let in by the guards so she must have been of legal age to watch that movie. With a boyfriend, mind you. Perhaps her brain didn't do justice her age. Coz she did it again towards the end of the movie. Goat her face.

Yes, I loathed that girl. Evident in my tone, yes? I can tell her line up of favorite movies is crap.

Good movies deserve a good audience. Not some noisy creature, unfortunately still classified a human, who can't even recognize a humanoid from a goat.

In Out Whatever

2010-01-05T21:09:00.005+08:00

I'm not usually a fan of fads. Huge shades, flipflops, plaids, headbands, gadgets, whatnot. I even just had my hair cut so short I didn't mind my friends' plea not to.

It was a sunny afternoon a while ago and I was in a car whose windows have not the slightest tint on them, with my girl friends, on our way to our favorite fast food up to meet Jes. Jane shotgun, as usual. The sun was scorching hot and the aircon not cooperating. There were five bodies inside the car, too insulated from the weather. Squinting and sweating, I took my black rimless shades from the dashboard and jokingly told my friends, "I'm still your friend while I put these shades on, okay?" Hell yeah they were still my friends. I could hear the burst of laughter from the front and back seats.

Thinking while looking at them and sharing their laughter: do I look really hilariously horrible with these shades I chose according to my own taste? sheeeeeesh.

I took them off. My passenger was laughing and telling me I looked so yesterday and that I should have something like Jackie O's. Like I ever cared about their taste--which they consider IN--to be mine as well. I like looking at girls with those huge eye accessory even though I know their noses aren't as long as the shades require them to be, which leave the glasses to just hang on their cheeks. HAHA. No offense. It's an okay sight though. I don't really care. Til you care about mine.

People with the original taste (before the fad came out) have to drop their love of the just-now-craze for fear of being labeled a wannabe. Argh. To hell with fads.

Humor me, please.

2009-12-09T23:21:00.010+08:00

I am practically on the verge of dozing off but my feelings just wont let me. This December month is just so eventful I can't even remember it's December. Today's been a long one. Too long, in fact, that I don't want to sleep on it. I'd rather greet tomorrow by sitting here on the computer telling you about how this day has been.

We had our re-defense for our thesis today. It was our third time facing the panelists but this time was different, because we were doing the actual defense already. Unlike the other ones where we were just asked one question and boom, we're sent out of the room due to circumstances I could only smile about, this time we defended our paper, and with one question we were again sent out of the room due to circumstances that I could now LAUGH about.

Life's humor. I have plenty of reasons to go mad over what's happened today, but I choose to laugh. And I'm not sure I'm getting by by doing so but the day is about to close and I'm still sane, so yeah, I think I'm actually good with it. Laughing.

Coffee by Bo's. My pacifier. My refuge. I drove there for a cup of coffee with my upsetted-mates to relax our minds and hopefully recover our "light" with the brown atmosphere, as always the cases are for me. Invited 2 of my best friends over for outlets I knew would do me good. And I was right about it. I had their ears.

Daps, my regular companion, smoking. Formerly Everest. He's a sight. :) Wearing skinny jeans, mind you.

Angelo, my buddy, whose twisted mind I'm actually confused to either loathe or just laugh about. Dinner for my long day-that-was to be. Thanks, A. You are wicked. You should know that.

Long drive home. My feet hurt from the constant pressing on the clutch, my eyes drowsy from my only-four-hour-sleep, the heavy traffic I was stuck in, the rain hitting the windshield, and my mind pondering on things. I was pathetically low. I wished I had someone in the car I could drive around with. Not some cheesy music on the radio magnifying the lonely mood I was in. Yeah I was alone and lonely. It used to be just the former, and I actually enjoyed it. But I guess tonight it found a partner. It's sick. Makes me sick.

Life's humor. I think I've had an overdose of it today.

Chinese on All Souls' Day

2009-11-02T22:51:00.025+08:00

Judging by my name, one can tell that I am of Chinese descent but it took me fifteen years to realize that looks-wise, I am one. Well, quarter of it actually. I spent my last high school summer working in our bakery as a sales lady when some of our customers would ask me if I were Chinese. I would say yes, then turn to our employees, and ask them if I really did have those chinita eyes. They too, said yes. Then I was convinced I am evidently Chinese-blooded.

Although we had the blood of the chinky-eyed race, we were not so traditional about it. I didn't study in Chinese schools and couldn't even speak the language well. We do few common traditions though like the giving of red packets with money inside as gifts for new years, birthdays and weddings; having misua on birthdays to signify long life, feng shui for luck, and chopsticks--I'm not even good at using them despite having plenty of them from my late grandparents. These traditions are getting very common that even people without Chinese descent practice them. However, there is this day that we come to once a year that I feel so Chinese about: All Souls Day.

Filipino-Chinese people have a very interesting way of commemorating the dead. Our family and relatives visit our late grandparents in the old Chinese cemetery where they were laid to rest. Aside from candles designed with gold dragons and inscriptions, we bring incense, which are thin sticks, usually red in color, burned and placed in an urn. We also bring joss paper (Chinese dead money) which are burned as offerings to ensure that spirits of the deceased have lots of good things in the afterlife; and of course, food such as hopia, tikoy, pansit, and fruits, which are laid on the tomb as a sign that the souls share in the feast. And it is a common practice of putting the pictures of our late relatives on the altar or tomb as a way of remembering their faces.

We'd light the incense in two's or three's, bow three times as a sign of respect, then plant them on the urn in front of the tomb. While we pass time talking, we fold the joss paper into rolls like lumpia, or we just simply fold them. These are sheets of papers cut into squares decorated with seals or engravings on them. We then gather and burn them in a huge tin can. This is to provide the deceased with sufficient income in the afterlife. While the grown-ups spend the rest of time talking, the children wait for the candles to melt so they can have the melted wax weighed in exchange for money. Watching the gold dragons melt with the candles makes them want to save it for its beauty.

One thing I look forward during this day is the extended family whose dead relatives' tombs are next to ours. They, too, practice the rituals we do. The head of the group is an old woman probably in her 70's who speaks Chinese in a very loud voice that I would just listen to what she's saying hoping that I could understand. But I don't, because I'm not good at it and I somehow hope I am, truth be told. That's why when people ask me if I’m a practicing Chinese, I say I only am by name, looks, and on All Souls’ Day—that day of the year I feel so much like one.

*image by beatus-vir on DA

sill

2009-10-14T22:03:00.008+08:00

I sit by the window
in solitude on a cold afternoon
writing my thoughts
that go out only to you.

How long shall I wait
for the stillness to break
that of the words
that my ears demand?

Searching in the wind
that carries your voice
in vain I have hoped
but hear I cannot.

Nine Years

2009-10-07T22:27:00.003+08:00

Loved and Always Rembered.

My 20th and His

2009-09-20T21:03:00.018+08:00

photo by ainukiw

I woke up to the sweetest voice in the planet: my DAD singing me a happy birthday song of his very own slow sweet tune. I looked at him and smiled, reached out my hand and he held it then I closed my eyes and listened to him, hoping not to fall asleep. It was 6am in the morning. He wished me good health and God's blessings. Unfortunately, I sleep on top of a double deck bed so I had to reach out to hug him and he had to stand on the lower bed to reach me.

Perfect morning start for the last day of my 20th year.

I went back to sleep and woke up for good 2 hours later. As birthday tradition on mornings, we had misua (very thin noodles) for breakfast with loads of boiled eggs. I didn't expect my dad to be around by then but due to unknown cause that gave him GI problems, he was forced to stay home and miss watching live huge boxing match at some good restaurant.

While I was surfing the internet like any other lazy weekend afternoon, my dad, sitting on his chair in the sala watching TV, told me to come over. Come over I did. He asked me to sit on his lap so sit I did, although feeling a bit awkward but I'm pretty used to it. He does this annually. :)

"20 na intawn akong anak, akong eldest. Kumusta man ka day Chris?" (My eldest daughter has turned 20. How's life been?)

Hearing those words and seeing the smile on his face, I know I have the best dad in the world. I hugged him tight and kissed him on the cheek, told him everything's good and whispered I love him.

To my dad who is celebrating his fatherhood anniversary, happy 20th to you too. :)

Number 125

2009-09-14T20:13:00.013+08:00

I spent 7 long hours inside a mall all for the renewal of a small plastic card that's called my driver's license. And due to incomprehensible circumstances, I didn't even get to hold the ID in my precious hands after--let me say it again--7 long hours.

My dad told me it's only gonna cost me an hour or two but when I got there in the early hour of 11 o'clock noon right after my class and saw the swarm of people in this frustratingly undersized government office, my precious small eyes told me otherwise.

Booooo to Mandaue LTO for its renovation hence the hoarding of these human bodies in this very little space.

There were four steps in the drug and medical tests and it was so funny that only step 1 had a microphone for the obvious reason that it was THE step and only step for payments.

"Tan, Christina. Have you taken any medication in the past 24 hours? 400 pesos please."

It's all about the Benjamins, baby.

And as for the rest of the windows, clerks had to use their only resource to call us: their voice box. And with that, our attentive ears.

I spent most of my time sitting on the bench reading my year-old unread novel bought from a bargain sale last year, The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, daydreaming about this man I've so long been wondering about, chatting with fellow frustrated clients, and of course, sleeping. Well, thanks to LTO for putting up an office in SM. But still........... 7 hours? And I hadn't even got my drug test results yet.

I hate lags. I hate slow service. I hate ugly smelling crowds. And I hate having to go back there to finish business.

Shuteye

2009-09-10T21:44:00.009+08:00

There he was right in front of me. The man of my dreams. He reached out his hand for mine and woopak!

I woke up to the alarmSSSS of my cellphones and table clock. It's a dark morning, obviously too early for my body clock but what the heck, I'm an hour late for my usual duty waking-up time! It was 5am and the sky twilight. It was a lovely sight but not worthy of my take-your-time to behold it. So I ran literally from bathroom to kitchen to the cab then to the second floor of the, fortunately, not so far hospital where i was assigned. Thought in mind: had I not prayed last night to wake up early today?

Actually, I did.

DUTY now

Morning prayer with my group and Princess: Johanna praying for us to make few mistakes for our duty that day.

Correction by Princess: Pray for no mistake at all.

BE SPECIFIC. That was what Princess pushed into our brains.

"Don't just pray for few mistakes. Pray for none at all. Don't just pray for a boyfriend. Pray for a good-looking and kind boyfriend. And He will give you that."

Alyssa: Can we name someone? *smiles* TOOOOUUUUCHEE

Princess was right. The night before, I was praying that I wake up early. He did answer my prayers. My body clock wakes me up at 8:30 am so 5am, the time I woke up that morning, was so very early.

Lesson learned. This account happened 2 months ago and since then, I've been waking up on my desired time, except for yesterday in a jeepney when I woke up and realized I had already passed by our house at some hundred meters.

Pray. Always. And shut yer eyes now. Tight. (--,)

Spontaneous

2009-09-06T12:15:00.006+08:00

I'm one spontaneous girl, when it comes to going out, that is. There are those days when I just go out unplanned, ask people to come over right then and there, drop by at someone's place just informing her a few minutes earlier. Yeah, spontaneous. It irritates some people, I know, but what the heck, they say yes to it anyway.

*cheeeeeeeeeeeeers*

The other day I was in school doing our thesis proposal while being online on YM (thanks to CDU's free wifi!) when a goooooood friend chatted. I asked asked him if we could hang out, coz I wanted to go out so much but all of my friends were either too busy or too tired to go out. Unfortunately, his work's til a few hours from then so it was a subtle "i can't." But then he told me he could have a break for a while. So there, I finished my business in school and drove off to the coffeeshop. Man, it's been ages since we've last seen each other. I missed him! We had a couple of hours together, enough to catch up on each other, plus coffee and dinner, then he went back to work and I drove somewhere else.

I didn't want to go home yet. I thought of texting my other friends but it was pretty late already. 9pm. And I was in my uniform.

I remembered I lost my planner few days ago and thought of dropping by that place where I think I left it -- my hideout. I wanted to have another cup of coffee but my stomach was feeling stupid so I saved myself from an unlikely situation. I didn't find my planner though. But who cares? I had my regular companion(1) there! Too bad I forgot my props.

(1) regular companion

Our New Jack

2009-08-20T21:43:00.008+08:00

I love the only male creature our house holds.

When i got inside the room, I found a new crib as huge as a queen-size bed obviously built by my dad. He was finishing off by putting the puzzle mats on the floor. First thought, what took him 19 years to build a crib as huge as this when he's raised 6 children in his own house? Well, he just loves building. A lot. *emphasizes that with THE look in my eyes* He's a chemical engineer. He doesn't just love chemicals.

Then he lifted the bed with a JACK that seemed new to his collection (it was the first time I saw it) among countless engineering stuff he has, some of which are older than I am. I asked him if it was new then he looked at me and I saw the curve on his lips.

He told me it was new. "It's electrical and even has some lighting effects. (COOL). I bought it at SM last weekend for 4,000 pesos. On sale," he said, proudly, mind you. I reckon its the 4th (or more) jack that entered his collection. And he uses one of them like once a month or less. If he finds another jack with an even better feature, he'd probably buy it if he finds it--which I hope not.

One time, he was sitting in his room with this gloomy face whose reason we cannot seem to guess. Then he blurted out about what a waste of all his tools, kits, paraphernalia, instruments, devices without a son to hand them down to. He has kids. Plenty of them. All daughters.

He has a huge passion for tools. Actually, for a lot of stuff. But his passion for the former amuses me so much that i just adore him for it! Last month he was doing this woodwork when he asked my sister to go get his box of chisels. My sister had to literally dig in the stockroom to look for it until she found it: new and unopened, bought for like a decade ago. Dust collecting eh? What took him so long to open that box of a dozen chisels?

So, hmmm, the next time I get a flat tire, I guess jacking the car won't be much of a work than the first time I did. Thanks to our new electric-powered plus flashlight feature Jack. It's titanic!

no way my next of kin

2009-08-18T16:57:00.008+08:00

It's no easy situation living in a family with new members, especially when these people I'm talking about are not even blood related to you.

Yeah yeah, acceptance, so they say. But some things are just too unfortunately sick you can't accept them but complain and nag about it. Like that makes this situation better eh? Sure it does. It means I'm standing for what I believe SHOULD BE, so a heated conversation that happened a while ago and my venting this late afternoon.

I live with a woman who happens to be my formal (and legal, i believe) commander. These days she's become very frustrating for all of us. I hate it. And forgive me for feeling that way for her, especially her. She just has these roots that we think have grown too deep underground it's hard to pull them out. Thick black disgusting roots we wish were never planted in this world. It's crap. And the world doesn't need more of them.

She's a blessing, mind you. But then again, let me say it one more time, she's becoming very irksome lately. She won't listen, she always believes she's right, and that she can do without us. Friggin pride and overflowing-delight for one's self. Drop em in a shithole right where they look perfectly accordant.

nim nim

2009-08-09T01:38:00.003+08:00

this site needs an overhaul.

That Friggin Day I Went Twice To the Top

2009-06-18T20:34:00.017+08:00

So my good friend and I were walking this steep road that was supposedly going to lead us to the highest peak so far in our lives. He was blabbing about his knees shaking and I was bragging of my endurance that seemed to be as high as the altitude we were at, challenging his manliness which seemed to be my laughing stock for that moment. Brushing my pocket, i noticed my car keys weren't on its usual place: my pant's belt holder. You know, that thin strap of fabric where you insert your belt. Sure, name it whatever you wanna call it. So much about the anatomy of the jeans.

In my years of driving, I had never lost my car keys nor left them somewhere else. What more leave them hanging in the ignition switch which was exactly what happened that day among all the days in that place among all the places: Friday, the only rest day I had in my 8-day duty; in the high mountains of Tops, Busay. We were locked from the outside, without a spare key in my pocket, and our house miles away from that foggy place I long waited to visit.

5:44 PM.

The dark clouds scaring me off.

Heavens have mercy on us.

Add the fact that I had only a hundred pesos in my purse. Talk about preparedness and a series of unfortunate events. I took a motor ride down to the city which cost me quarter of my money, 2 jeepney rides, and the company of the rain which left me half soaked and the roads flooded.

Oh, and about my friend? He stayed there in the mountains. He was with another good friend of mine, Fred, my 15-year-old red sedan whose aircon whistles I dread. T_T

After travelling and getting myself ready for what seemed to be a frightful talking-to with my folks, I got only a few words from my dad (whew!) and then he handed me 3 spare keys, just in case luck was REALLY trying to play tricks with me. I took another 2 jeepney rides and a motor ride which cost me 70 pesos (ouch!) and now with the company of the freezing mountain breeze.

7:42 PM.

Starving.

With the keys in my pocket.

Sweet redemption.

photo by bypass2020 on DA

star as

2009-05-21T05:37:00.008+08:00

the sun shining at an earlier morning.

5 am and i was still in the easy struggle of getting myself to sleep. (--,) but i couldn't so here i am, ranting about it. summer's still up, the skies vouched for it. daybreak came so much earlier than the previous weeks.

so one thought is bothering me these days: if you knew that a friend of yours had something going on with someone, officially or not, and that someone starts to hit on you, would you take part? i don't know what its called if you do but whatever it is, i'll call it bullshit. fellow feeling, you're needed more than you know.

(i need to write something worthwile... give me time)

>.<

2009-05-12T00:43:00.003+08:00

sometimes just out of the blue, depression strikes you for no apparent reason. it's crazy. and it's eating me right now. and no, i'm not being an emo. just when your day started good, went on just fine, and to find yourself at the end of day down and gloomy for some unknown cause you just wish would come up so you'd find something to get it over with.

ah. i think i found it. i think.

i.need.inspiration.

too much for a 7-year-old

2009-04-13T01:45:00.010+08:00

It was a morning not of the usual for when she went out of the room, the air just seemed uncomfortable. She went to the sala and found something more unusual: a box. Rectangular, hard, and white. She looked inside and found her mother. What's a 7-year-old to know? It was a casket.

She wondered why her mom was lying inside that white box. She looked at her face and thought she was sleeping, looked at her body and realized she wasn't. What's a 7-year-old to know? The body wasn't breathing. The life that loved her so much wasn't there anymore.

The loss of life. She ran to her room. What's a 7-year-old to do? She cried. Her sisters weren't there to comfort her.

But her daddy was. What's a father to do? He hugged her.

"What's wrong?"

*sobbing*

"Your mommy?"

*sobbing*

"Don't worry. I will never leave you. Everything's gonna be alright."

What's a 7-year-old to do? Believe.

What's a father to do? Be there for his children. In every step of the way.

He did that. Enduringly.

After she told her anecdote to her sisters which they only heard after 9 years, there was a long silence. What were daddy's girls to do? They could take the deafening silence. But not the emotions that struck them that night. However, the darkness was there to cover for them and their tears.

Stupid Mask

2009-04-07T15:07:00.007+08:00

As i crossed the streets this morning, I saw this lady in a simple jeans-and-shirt get up with a not so simple make up. Her cheeks were too tinted like that of the pink uniform I was wearing and her skin was as white as snow white's, like she was punched right on her both cheeks and a pool of blood rushed through them.

So I was standing right next to her, waiting for a jeepney. Constantly looking on the road searching for my route choice, an American passed by from the lady's side. He passed in front of her and stopped to look at both of us clearly. I thought he was gonna ask some directions but then he looked at curiously the lady beside me and said with a mad face and tone like he was someone of authority,

"What the hell happened to your face?"

I didn't look at the scene like most people usually do when they see a foreigner pass by. But thanks to my peripheral vision, I could see at least an "overview." The woman took a few steps away from the man then the man continued,

"Such a pretty face covered with a stupid mask."

Then he went on walking. Could he be anymore unfeeling? Did he even know that I could hear his voice from where I was standing or that what he actually said was too cruel for a stranger to take just standing there minding her own thing?

Other side of the coin, her make up was just really too... much. Others' opinions should be sought before going on public view. That's how my sisters come in handy too, especially my second sister whose eyes and tongue are too honest. Who would want to be humiliated when you put on something on you to look good? Or so you thought.

So much for face paints.

toodles!

Happy Birthday

2009-04-03T02:26:00.003+08:00

I may not have been there during your last hours, but you were in my mind and heart. I was too excited to see you when I was about to perform on stage, then your daughter called me and everything changed.

To the woman who loved me so much, too much
...the woman whose face I resemble most
...the woman I miss so much
...the woman who turned 53 today,

Happy Birthday.

It's been 9 years. Our "what if's" still go on. It's hard to stop dreaming when there's so much to remember.

Her birthday is on the 2nd of April.

the man i quite miss

2009-04-03T01:29:00.012+08:00

He would come over at least once a week, dropping a call before he did. He'd stay for an hour or more, listening to me. No, he's not my lover. He brought me gifts on my special day, whether it was something I asked from him or not. Sometimes he would drop by our store to make a call, and I'd be glad to see him for a short while. He would talk with my dad, conversations I weren't so interested in yet. I was too young then.

He was the first grown up man I've met, the man my father introduced me without my consent, but then I later learned to love; the man I showed off my discovery of the notes I learned to play. He was the man who taught me the beautiful pieces I played during parties when people would gather around me and praise me for what my fingers beheld, the man who celebrated with us during my limelight moments, the man who saw me grow up to my early puberty years.

He was the man who drove us home that very silent rainy night when my mom passed away. Then he stopped coming. My dad needed all the silence and solitude in the world. Let alone a visitor for music sessions. And eventually I stopped playing the piano. He came over hardly ever, only to make a call when he happened to pass by our place.

The last time I saw him was on the newspaper. And the last time I heard of him was long ago in the jeepney, when I was sitting beside the driver and saw his ID bearing the same family name of the man I quite miss tonight. I heard some news, good and bad, but enough to make me happy to be in touch with him through some driver I just met.

Just Give it a Reason

2009-03-31T23:01:00.011+08:00

The demise of a loved one, flunking an exam, a love gone sour, whatever failure, what does that leave us?

For months we ponder on what went wrong, exhausting our energy on emotions of grief and despair, spending sleepless nights despite the comfort of the bed and the cold evening, longing for a rewind even though we know it's all wishful thinking. Then, like it was all worth it, we finally arrive to a comforting thought that will seemingly set us free: it happened for a reason.

a reason that justifies the sorrow we went through...
a reason that dwarfs the excruciating pain we ached...
a reason behind all the damage it has done...

it's not just any reason. It's the reason that will free us from the darkness we put ourselves into. It's not just anything that comes up into our minds. It's something we make up, reason with, deliberate, argue, and finally persuade ourselves into thinking it is what everything is for. And eventually, we learn to accept.

Everything happens for a reason, or is it that we give a reason to everything that happens?

It's amazing how our minds can bring up a purpose for an agony we thought was unbearable.

Amazing how we find comfort in an explanation people would call an excuse.

Amazing how we are able to say that in the long run, everything was worth it all for a reason we believe that's the truth.

i'm back

2009-03-26T01:43:00.004+08:00

so it's been a long while since i last laid my time here. I've been trying to write something but just couldn't squeeze enough of my brains out. Where have they all gone?

I've been hooked up on the internet so much for the past few weeks. I could stay up as late as 2 AM with early classes the next day. Yeah, I'd choose the internet over a peaceful slumber that would've been the remedy to my everyday-sleeping-sessions-during-class. (speaking of which, i got so many pictures of me sleeping. talk about being a celebrity. lol)

So talkwithstragners blogspot, I know its just you and me here. Unlike my other pages, I'm sure you're the least visited, if not the no-visitors, so I'm gonna post this non-sense blog here and not anywhere else. Just for the record, I'm back after months of being away. I mean, yeah, I've been posting some stuff on multiply and friendster but they're short and shallow and whatever.

yellow isn't so hard to read

2009-01-17T02:06:00.004+08:00

the driver was wearing her new lipstick.

for the first time in three years, the red car got tangled on the green gates, pulling half of the bumper away swinging like a limping branch of a tree. had it not stopped for gasoline, it would have traveled 10 kilometers in that condition and the driver would have suffered a great deal of embarrassment especially that the car's windows aren't tinted and anyone inside could be seen even at your peripheral vision.

and so the quote, what goes down must come up.

it got lucky at dusk. at a stoplight in the highway, it was right beside a shiny new mini cooper which had been following the red car for quite a route already. it was not tinted as well. two handsome (very) young men were in it, honking, calling the college girls inside the almost-doomed-car earlier. the girls started to laugh and was in "panic" looking for a paper and pen to write their contact number. and wallah, a cellphone number written on a half bond paper with a highlighter the color of yellow. who in the world could read something written in yellow?

during dinner that night at a friends birthday party, everybody was eating peacefully until someone said, (translated from cebuano) "hey, someone texted me, 'im the one from the mini cooper.'" the girls looked at each other with eyes and mouths wide open with surprise. everybody else stopped to look at the fuss then continued with their meal.

yellow isnt so hard to read then.

the driver got scolded by her parent at the end of the day for the recklessness. T_T

those guys are still 14 years of age. isn't that not of legal age for driving yet?

*ask from the experienced rather than the learned. take it from me, cars with transparent windows are fun and exciting!

thank you!

2009-01-13T01:11:00.004+08:00

so our literature teacher gave us an assignment to be done during the Christmas break. an acrostic with uniform meter and rhyme. i've never written a rhymed poem, how much more with specific meters. at first i was so excited about it, but when i started writing about it, nothing came out. the first one i made was "so OA," as jared described it which i seconded. this is the second and final one, which i did at 4 in the morning so i "could get inspired with the silence of the morning." LOL
I wish i could give it away but nah...

2007

2008-12-14T12:22:00.006+08:00

send me out from this world of confusion
haste, for my sould is yearning
far from the touch of wilderness
beneath this heavenly blue sky

thoughts i keep trying to push away
yet never-endingly haunting me
in my sleep, in my dreams
hiding beneath my peaceful rest

is it a sign, i wonder
that feelings have been reborn
over the period of what i thought was over
and now has come back for good

find me my darling
if thats the message you're giving me

Photo by Loralyn

24

2008-12-13T21:52:00.004+08:00

the sky is white
i see no trace of yellow light.
oh the beauty
that warms my heart
traces a smile on my lips.
share with me this moment
lets go for a walk
on the places we've traveled
on those sleepless nights
under the stars
that were amazingly bright
lighting up the sky
hard to call the night dark.
but now is morning
and it would be different
for i could see your face clearly
on this perfect weather
gloomy and cold
my heart seeking for you
i miss you
do you not hear me?
my longing, my desire
of just one word from you
one look, thats all
to sweep me off my feet
...again

scratch #nth

2008-11-21T18:51:00.006+08:00

like a vine
crawling through my lips
inch by inch
I tried to hold it longer,
yet i let go
and the fruits
of what I've foreseen
had bloomed
on that cold night
with my beloved

I didn't resist,
I didn't want to.
kept going
I tried to pace myself
on a path I chose
awkward and arduous
but happiness unequalled.

my heart leapt
as I tried to keep it in.
distant memories sank in
like a ray
of light on a gloomy day.
unexpected.
beautiful.
moving.

the river flowed
for the beauty that was there
and I offered them
to the dark misty sky.
it was more than
my happiness could take
more than my heart could hold.

then away
i bathed in
just as my eyes did
on that cold night
with my beloved

so close

2008-10-30T02:03:00.004+08:00

i looked for you with fear
hiding behind my thoughts
of giving in and compromising

easy, i thought
but seek i did

my distress, a sweet torture
wrapped around me
now you're gone

comfort i rummaged
...failed, in vain

Need a Date?

2008-06-30T19:11:00.004+08:00

Have you ever thought about flying miles away from home just to explore a city and its views, taste their food and enjoy the new place. . . even just for one day . . . all ALONE? I know one who thought about it and made it happen.

A friend of mine had been inviting me to watch a movie we've long been waiting for. But when the theaters were showing it already, I was too busy to go out. Nevertheless, my friend watched it with or without me. He didn't just watch that one movie, but two more. Who went with him instead of me as planned? Himself.

These kinds of people surprise me. How do they do that? It's not about the money they'll be draining watching three movies in a row, nor the amount of the food they'll be spending for. It's the absence of a company. The aloneness.

At first it came unbelievable to me. I've never watched a movie nor dined at a semi-fine restaurant alone, so hearing this kind of habit of having a "date" with yourself comes weird to me. I told one friend that doing it would be impossible for me. He asked me, "You're the dependent kind of person, aren't you?"

Then it hit me. I couldn't stand being alone. I had to ask others' opinions before deciding. Or worse, I had to let them decide for me. I had to have someone with me so I could enjoy more. A company meant so much to me that without it, there'd be no sense in going out to the malls, watching movies, enjoying a nice view. The only thing I loved doing alone was going to Sto. Niño every weekend to light candles and pray and I didn't think I could go any further.

Not until I opened myself into the world of dating with myself. It started with a trip to the theater alone. I had to choose between two of my favorite movie genres: comedy and thriller. They say comedies are better watched with friends so you have some people to laugh with, so I chose the latter. After the movie, I dined at a fast food and ate a sumptuous meal. That started my solitary get-aways. Did I enjoy it? More than I've expected it to be.

And it wasn’t my last.

Being alone and lonely are two different things. We don't have to be with someone just to be happier. You can be alone but happy, right? As they say, if you're looking for a helping hand, there's always one on your arm.

If you think you can’t do it alone, do some soul searching. We’re capable than how we think we are. Sometimes we just need to spend time for ourselves. Do some stuff by yourself and you’ll discover things you never thought you’ve ever had. Who else is going to help you when no one else does?

So, you need a date? You know who to call.

Be yourself--not too much

2008-06-01T20:19:00.002+08:00

"That's just me. I won't change. Deal with it."

Oh how I hate that line when I comment someone about their bad attitude, habit, whatever.

People sometimes feel too good about themselves that they see change as a bad thing. They'll go saying, "Why don't you just love me for who I am? I'd rather be me than change for you."

First of all, I didn't tell you to change. I was just giving a comment. Oh, did I offend you? That I didn't mean. If there's any comment I would give, I'd want and try to make it constructive. It's up to you to take it that way or otherwise. If you choose the latter, then that's probably why you reply the I'd-rather-be-me line.

Secondly, don't think that by being yourself is all that good. Even I have my own flaws that I don't want to acknowledge as just being myself. We can't please everyone. We know that, don't we?

Don't tell me you've never complained to anyone about their habits or attitude. How would you feel if she'd say she's just being herself? It's not like you're telling her to be somebody else, right? As long as you're telling her to change for the better, then you're on the right track.

I used to be the kind of person who let others decide for myself. Like I didn't have a stand. Until my cousin told me and she seemed really irritated about it, I started to be the opposite--which I find now as better that how I used to be. I know I was being myself back then. I know now too that I am better than who I was before.

Sure, being yourself is good. But please don't be too confident that by doing so, you're doing a good job and it's up to the people to deal with your not so pleasing attitude. If someone comments about you, be thankful and see it as a bridge for a better you. After all, why would they complain if they didn't want a better you?

Talking With Strangers

2008-05-31T21:25:00.003+08:00

I have to say I've always been a fan of chatting online and meeting friends. It's not that bad actually, although it's true that the number of perverts is a hundred times more than the sensible ones. It takes some time and some luck--yes, luck--to find someone whom I could talk with sensibly. And when luck is on my side, I could be more than thankful.

Chatting is like seeing faces in the malls, the streets, the church, except that you can talk with them here and now. It can be a remedy to a boring night. And it's up to me to keep in touch with the person I'm chatting with. Someti mes, I just say good night and thank him for the good chat, others I give my email to, while some of them I just leave with my greetings.

It usually starts off with a, "hi, care to chat?" line. Some of them would reply immediately with, "hi. fster?" What a boring way to start off a conversation. So I click on the ignore button and be happy for that feature the program offers (keeping perverts, crazy people away).

But if I'm lucky enough, I could end up chatting with the most sensible person I've ever talked with on the first encounter! I've met young and old ones. Age doesn't matter for me, all I'm after for is a good chat anyway, not someone I could date. I've met a lot of nice, great people online. It's where I've met the most selfless person I know. I've also met some law students and a lawyer, a medical technologist, a pharmacist, some nursing students--one of them a topnotcher, and i can't be any more proud! He was the most humble person I've met. I've also chatted with troubleshooters! I once had a problem with our computer hardware and as much as I have hoped that luck be on my side, it did! I chatted with someone who's good in computers and he helped me with it and wallah! problem solved!

There was even one time when I needed some Egyptian quotes for my friend to use in an Egyptian-themed beauty pageant. No sweat at all. I just logged in to Egypt channel and messaged some chatters, asking if they could lend some time for me to share their language. And the next night, my friend was talking Egyptian in front of a crowd!

You like business? Sometimes I can read ads on the channel, chatters selling off their PSPs, guitars, drums, whatever. I once--just once--sold a book online. There was a girl who asked if someone had a psych book and since I had one, I PM'd (personal message) her right away and it was sold right there and then. We met at a mall and after some talking, we realized that we just come from the same school. What a small world!

I usually login to the channel when I'm bored which is probably once a month. Sometimes the thought of chatting just disappears and I'd forget that it even exists. But when I'm very bored and it so happens that I'm sitting in front of the computer tired of watching youtube or looking at friendster and myspace, I click on to an Internet Relay Chat and talk with strangers. We'd talk about any topic we could think of: movies, music, hobbies, interests, life story, school, pets, books, future. But I always expect to chatt with at least 10 non-sense people first before I end up with someone who talks sense.

See, the world is full of strangers, harmful and harmless, useful and useless, interesting and boring... you name it. Chatting has brought me to this world of versatility. And could I be more than excited? I don't know why, but sometimes it feels so much easier talking to a world of strangers.

missing him in happiness

2008-05-16T20:42:00.004+08:00

she misses him the most when she is happy. when she is overwhelmed with joy, when she is laughing her heart out--her eyes filled with tears coz she cannot breathe no more, that is when she wants him to be with her, sharing her happiness with him.

it is when the sky is gloomy that she misses him. it is when it rains that she wants to be with him. it is when she achieves something that she wants to hug him so tight and tell him he's part of it. it is when she sees a nice view and wishes he was there with her. it is when she prays to God and thank him that she wishes he were close. it is when she is walking down the street that she hopes to see his familiar face.

sad part of this is it only ends there: missing him, having him in her thoughts, close to her heart. nothing more. just always in her head...

patience and time

2008-05-10T20:47:00.005+08:00

"patience is a virtue, but time is gold"

many times do we find solace in waiting, thinking that by doing so, fate is gonna pay you a reward for it. and when the 'someone' you're waiting for a very long time finally comes, you then go and tell yourself that it was worth the wait.

but life isn't always at this side of the game. it's full of surprises. it backfires. it can be cruel.

you see the sun rise and set and that does no help in making you feel for waiting more. every tick of the clock aches like the heartbeat of a dying man. it tells your body and soul that you're being asked to wait longer. oh yes, you're every second closer to what your waiting for, but do you actually know what happens at the end of your pause? when that 'someone' finally arrives, clicks on the play button, does that guarantee you of a happy ending?

would your loved one ever want you to sacrifice your time for them? would they ever want you to waste, yeah thats the term, your time waiting for them when you could have done so much?

time never pauses itself. tonight is never gonna come back. oh how do we wish this wonderful life of ours is going to freeze for forever. wake up, thats never gonna happen. see, we can't keep on holding on. we've got the whole world ahead of us giving us choices of what we're gonna make out of our lives. and, our lives are numbered, if you just look closely. every day is a day closer to what, our next birthday. every birthday is a year closer to our, senior citizenship?

no one wants to grow old and look back at what a wasted time their life has been. not unless you've known real good lives though. waiting can't go on forever, not for people who find so much more to one thing.