Cat's Cradle

2008-12-02T03:16:00.000-08:00

another bottle to smash

deciding to fall in love is, in every sense, picking up another beer bottle to smash on your head- wild west-style.

2008-09-08T04:50:00.000-07:00

my feet is now officially a plantation of amoebas and whatever else my MedTech sister studies under the microscope.

2008-08-25T03:27:00.000-07:00

oh ghod. having my fingers tap-dance on the keyboard again is like reaching the hundredth orgasm. it feels so darn good.

it has been forty-three years since i've logged in and put a few brain-tossed matters in here. nah. jsut over reacting. but still, it has taken me that long to have a bit of sense knocked in. yeah, i've been busy parading honda vehicles on sale and having my butt kicked in with some corporate ideals and all that mush. making money's been a bit of a hobby and it has taken a good chunk off my skull.

part of me's praying to have the luxury of having all the time in the world doing nothing but typing the few good grammars i still have. but that won't pay for the financial adjustments i'll have to face come that fatefull day.

enough money talk. how about we tackle mush?

2007-03-05T18:25:00.000-08:00

Cannibalism

Your smile once painted rainbows to my day
and every crinkle on each of your rainbow-ed eye
created dancing cocoons in my stomach.

Hear my intestines rumble for the butterflies
that flew, got flushed, and are now washed out
along with whirling fragrant blue water
down the pipes.

Bowel movements like these make me hungry,

so prepare. Take a two-hour bath
and scrub your skin off.
I will fry all five feet four inches of it, put six cloves of chopped
garlic and mince it with your fingers that once ran freely
on and inside me.

Oh what a feast we will both have!
You would not have to do the cooking, just sit still
and watch me slave over the hot stove
under you.
No cooking oil needed here. Let’s keep the dish healthy.
Your own body fat would do.
I will just have to turn the flame on to extract fluids from your nerves.

A little basting is needed to soften your face.
So while you sit there in the broiler,
I will have to scoop your broth and wash it over your head.

I must be careful not to burn your hair, though.
Else, you’ll smell more rotten.

Sshh. Here’s an apple to stifle your screams.
Open your mouth wide.
I promise I will loosen the ropes around your arms
and feet after I eat

so you can wash the dishes.

2007-02-15T22:14:00.000-08:00

Dancing Different Partners

Even the nineteenth stick of the second Marlboro menthol pack cannot promise its stay. Its smoke slithered to mate with the blinking yellow light of the dresser, swirled to envelop the already-dim light, and fogged the mirror where Klaren watched herself talk to each cigarette butte that has left her slumped. She tried to keep her position comfortable, tucked her ankles under her thighs, and fixed her elbows on the dresser table to catch her dropping head. She ran her hand through her black hair, reached for the matchbox and jigged the cigarette pack for her last stick.

Striking matches was her favorite fad for the night. She bit the cigarette stick with her lips and pulled the eight lighted match to light it, dragged a breath through the menthol pipe, puffed, and blew the ashy cloud to fuddle her reflection. Mirror stains did not hide the dark rings around her eyes. She stared through the melting smoke and watched her blankets stir from behind her. She cupped her hand to suppress a cough, not wanting to wake her boyfriend for the night. She had wanted him to stay longer, to spend the last three hours with him before the sun rises and he had to leave for work, or to get home to a family she supposed she would never meet. Through the dresser mirror, she traced the blades of his shoulders, the slope of his arms, and his ruffled curls and knew that his image must soon be forgotten.

Klaren stared back to her face and drew the rings around her reflection’s eyes. Someone once told her how deep they were. How mysterious her eyes seem. And all she can see were the many times her deep black eyes have turned bloodshot.

“You are Klaren Javier. You are smart and strong. You will get over me sooner than you think.” Ryan said.
“That’s it? After all these, that’s what you’re going to tell me? Ha! I’ve stopped being smart the moment you called my name.”
“So slap me if that will make you stop crying. Kick me like what your father did. You did not even stand up when he hit me.”
“Listen to what you’ve just said! He’s my father, damn it. And ghod! I did stand up for you, you inconsiderate git! And it has been what, three years? And look where standing up for you got me- after three years, I am still begging for your attention.”
“You have just had five hours of my full effing attention.” Ryan said before slamming the door and stepping out of her life for good.

Her cigarette lit red as Klaren took another drag of nicotine. The chipped mirror stared back at her with disgust. And why would that be, she thought. Were her cheeks still too round, her eye brows still too thick? Or was it because of the new creature wrinkling her sheets behind her? The mirror does not know the man too well, so were the other six that came and went without so much of a goodbye.

“Let’s just say your brain is too big for mine, Klaren. I cannot handle complexities as well as you can.” Jeff said in his last letter. “You will be better off without me. Or maybe, It will be better if we stay friends.”

Another drag of breath from her menthol stick made Klaren feel relieved that she has already burned that letter a month ago. She does not have to open her drawer and reread it again. Only snapshots of the white stationery and its blue ink remained clear. No solid evidence of blotched paper was left. Only sight of ashes flushed in the toilet.

The creature from behind her reflection sat up and cooed for another cuddling session. Klaren took another look at the empty mirror, puffed her cig and went under her sheets. She half-wished him to embrace her tightly on his chest and not let go. But Klaren knew better. She sat on his thighs, put his hands on her chest and rode him until he is too tired again to even kiss her thank you.

He woke up with the sun, packed his polo shirt and left telling Klaren he would call as soon as possible.

Klaren threw her sim card out the window.

2007-01-22T19:17:00.000-08:00

What I Got from Never Land

My most recent ex-boyfriend has just posted full-body pictures of him and his “friend” in one of those popular internet friend-network pages. By “friend” I meant to go with that mindless excuse he gave me when he said he’s got a major infection of the Peter Pan Syndrome and his friends need him more than I do. As it turned out, Peter Pan just decided to fly to Never-Never Land with the Indian Princess instead of coming to earth to have an actual life with Wendy.

I got devastated having seen those pictures. Who wouldn’t, if you have been promised a bagful of fairy dusts and suddenly you find yourself hovering on thin air alone? And just a minute glimpse at those pictures makes you realize how useless it was to wish to fly to Never Land when you have got lots of more important things to do on earth. I clutched my stomach to stop me from puking all over the keyboard.

Yes, having looked at how Peter’s smile was still serene made me feel the need to take dozes of sedatives and anti-depressants. Not the kind of drugs that one could buy in any drugstore, but those that will make you feel you are oh-so-pretty and your humor is so very much admired.
Luckily, my wits got me published in Women’s Journal early November with my cell phone number announced to the whole reading community of the Philippines. I have had texters coming from Cebu, Davao, and even Batanes. Weird though, most of my interesting texters were guys who read a women’s magazine. And the girls were disappointingly under wit. What to do when what all your girl texters have to say were “You helped my heart mend” and “Hi. Can we be friends because I think you’ll care?” Of course, blow them off. It’s not like I have anything else to tell them. I was not even sure if I am helping myself enough. So I got stuck with the witty texters who I assumed were gay and agreed to have coffee with one of them just recently. It occurred to me that even though they might be prone to same-sex tendencies because of their hobby of reading girly magazines, maybe I could get along well with their brains. Besides, Rustom Padilla sure is mind- tingling.

So I agreed to meet this writer guy in Figaro. I was waiting for him outside the café when he texted: I can’t meet you, you look too young for me. And so I left, thankful that I do not have to meet a person who cannot show his face. I went to my favorite coffee shop nearby and by hell, he followed. I was shocked to see chunks of gray hair smiling at me. It was good that my parents taught me to treat elders with respect and so I pulled every nerve I have to put on a polite smile and tried to talk in a business-like manner. You could just imagine how I strained myself from laughing. Not because the man was old enough to be my uncle but because he is another one of those unlucky people who refused to grow up. When he asked me what I thought of him, I said, “Maybe you should start acting your age. By the looks of it, you’re still stuck in high school...po.”
Running across streets, through malls and escalators to get as far away from that experience woke me up. I did not even understand what this hunky Brit told me as I passed on the rush. While running, I felt my brain cells were coming back and are working as it should again. I hurried to a nearby computer shop and typed my story.

Waking up from dreams of Never Land was like being thrown a bucketful of cold water. And it felt really good. It made me realize that Wendy does not need fairy dusts to fly after all. She can tell good stories even before Peter Pan came barging in her bedroom window. In fact, it was Peter who needed her in the first place. It was him who needed to hear Wendy’s stories of love and adventures. It was him who needed her help at sewing his shadow back on.

While Peter floats outside her window, Wendy can go to Law School, write for top magazines and find a prince charming who would gladly put her to bed at the end of the day. Fairy tales are heart-warming, yes. But happy ever-afters come only if we start waking up and decide what happy ending we would work on. This is not Disney. This is life. Face it.

2007-01-18T03:55:00.000-08:00

What I Got for Looking

hear ye! hear ye!

my most recent ex-botfriend has just announced to the world how exotic his type was. full-body pictures of him and his "friend" (if you've been reading me, you might have read that his excuse for breaking up with me was "mas kailangan ako ng kaibigan ko") snogging were banner-ed all over his page. why do i still care?...hmmm... same question i asked myself. i nearly puked. luckily i didn't else, i'll be paying thousands to netopia for crashed computers.

for conceited little bratts like me, seeing those awful pictures will make intestines tangle and security blankets crease. mine surely did. and what do i do when i get insecure??? i go out and gather as much security i could muster. that vicious hobby where you swim in other people's admiration of your wit and oh-so-prettiness crept on me. why in hell's name did i let that happen? why?!

oh, same old reason why hitler and hussein are dead.

so there, i agreed to get coffe with this witty guy who has been admiring my blog entries. turned out, i was too slow to run away.

lucky he didn't ask to have pictures with me. if ever my ex gets hold of it, im good as dead.

my ultra-intelligent, uber pretty math teacher, Sir James Duavit said (or rather, texted) "wag ka kaya maghanap, no. baka sa career ka swerte." ... so, baka nga.

now, now i'll really focus on getting myself into law school, get some way of helping with the bills, and ghad, have a little life without penises up my ass (nothing green here. just pure, unadulterated wit).

xxx

2006-12-17T21:09:00.000-08:00

The World Makes Sense Again

have you read my "Family Day"?

did not get anything.

harhar.

2006-11-15T20:44:00.000-08:00

Talk about Taxes

I almost flunked last semester's taxation class. It was a 7am class and living near the Antipolo NPA's did not help my attendance record. Nor it helped me execute my abduction plot agaisnt my always-present-and-on-time prof.

Thankfully, my tax class this sem was scheduled at 10:00am. And when I first saw my new prof, the abduction plot turned a twist, which included a lunch date with him and a trip to the movies.

By the second lecture meeting, I hogged the seat in front of the prof's desks and pretended to listen while he "humuorily" jabbered about Value Added Tax. It was quite a view, him with his checkered polo sqhirt and rough-ragged jeans. And he has noticed my pink, clip-on hair extensions, saying that it will help him keep awake.

While jotting down notes, he swivelled across the platform and performed a funny-looking contortion where he stretched his arms and acused tax evasion to nobody in particular. THen it hit me. A blast from a bad break-up past.

THe reason why I fancy him is not because everybody in class says he looks like Mr. Bean. In contrary, he looks, acts, and dresses like my ex boyfriend. And if thet ex boyfried ever reaches 40 years old and be a lawyer slash prof, he'd be just like Mr. Tax Professor.

Every Tax lecture became an iron clad torture session. And because I am now permanently bolted in the front seat, I cannot escape the peircing daggers that my prof unknowingly thows at me everytime he smiles, speaks, and crunges his upper lip, just like JB used to do.

Like every other business individual, I am begining to hate taxes more and more.

2006-11-13T20:55:00.001-08:00

Family Day

One General-cleaning Sunday, I found an old nursery rhyme cassette tape from the bowels of my mom’s cabinet. Looking at its torn green covering, I remembered that back when I was just two and a half years old, mommy played it every day to teach me good English and some good poetry. I popped the tape in the cassette and was surprised to hear my two year old self reciting choppy, incoherent lines from Dr. Jose Rizal’s Mi Ultimo Adios.
I listened to myself fill in mommy’s blanks. She said, “Adios Patria…” and my tiny voice answered “adauda”. “Reljion del sol…” “keida”. And the poem mutilization went on until I finally said “bow”. Then my dad sang, “May sampung bibe, ay sampu, tatlo, akong nakita,” and I heard myself sing along with glee because then, the two-year old me is now singing in a more recognizable language.
Mommy chaperoned me to many different television studios for auditions and trained me to become a toddler pageant contestant. I was one of the children running after Pong Pagong and Kiko Matsing in then Sesame Street rival, Batibot. I also became a Little Miss Philippines candidate where I thought that my neighbors will see me waving at them on TV even though I was in backstage for costume change. I had used my version of Rizal’s My Last Farewell to impress Tito, Vic and Joey in that certain episode. Sadly, the judges did not agree with Aiza Seguerra, who was just five years old then, when she said that I was the brightest and cutest contestant and I went home only with Aiza’s autograph and a picture with the comedy trio.
On the other hand, daddy and I enjoyed our motor bike tours together. He would strap a little helmet on my head and let me sit in front of him to hold on a tiny handle he had welded on his motor bike. We would bike around the neighborhood, stopping only so he could puff on another cigarette stick. Sometimes, he would take me to PLDT where he then worked. He would introduce me to his kumpares who would pinch at my round cheeks, squeeze my stubby baby arms and call me Tyson. No wonder I was pet named after the legendary boxer. My baby pictures show that I was dark, round, bald, and obnoxious when I was little.
While growing up I practiced counting one week before any family member’s birthday. I used to ask mommy for money so that I could get her and daddy presents. My sister and I bought different vases and ornaments for mom and many of them can still be seen in our house, some with chipped edges caused by the other rug rats in the family. The different colored organizers we bought for dad often ended up rewrapped and sent to his bosses for Christmas.
As different as they may seem, mommy and daddy have actually lots of things in common. They could both get angry at the smallest things like a lost comb or a misplaced lighter. Cushions, plates and even rocking chairs fly when they wage wars. With financial issues always on the brink of world peace, only coffee talks over Philip Morris can secure our home from World War III.
I love Sundays with my family. While mommy jabbers at me and my sisters to clean the house all morning, daddy plays classic Tagalog love songs on the radio. And dad will dance around the living room, stepping on the dust bunnies I have swept from under his couch.
When we come home from church and after word wars over lunch, both of my parents will retreat to their room and play Bomber Man on the family computer all afternoon with my ten year old brother, pausing only to eat merienda or go to the bathroom.
Maybe my old folks did not really grow up as I thought they did. They have jobs to keep them busy, earn money and make them seem mature. But at the end of the week, they are just tired individuals who wish to spend time lying in blankets with their daughters and son for another shot at childhood.

2006-11-09T22:48:00.000-08:00

2006-10-31T04:40:00.000-08:00

Cat's Cradle: "bunchuy.blogspot.com "

2006-10-18T23:34:00.000-07:00

Another Tickle Day

*** I've been posting Tickle.com test results for blog updates since last week. why? because i have nothing to do here in the office and the only way to look busy is to have heart-to-stomach conversations with the computer.

One test is about what tv family your family is. and hey, mine is soulmates with the Simpsons! haha. I knew it!
----
... Results

Cue the blue skies, white clouds, and heavenly chorus — your family is most like everyone's favorite Springfield residents, The Simpsons! Your clan may not have spiky yellow (or blue) hair or only four fingers per hand, but Homer, Marge, Bart, Lisa, Maggie, and even Grandpa are still your family's TV soulmates. Sure, they squabble with the best of them (remember the time Bart burned Lisa's centerpiece? or when Homer ended up living in Bart's tree house after Marge got mad and threw him out?) but they always come through for each other when it counts. Look past the clever one-liners and surreal adventures, and you'll see a family with as much dysfunction — and as much love — as you and your nearest and dearest have in real life. So, to celebrate your Simpsonness, pull up a couch, grab a Duff beer, plop down in front of the TV, veg out, and thank your lucky stars that you don't have the Flanders family living next door!

2006-10-16T23:55:00.000-07:00

Sex and Coffee
***found this in the net. you see,... caffeine is good for you.

More brothel running madams have international coffee patents than French men.
Coffee, used by the experts to increase sexual pleasure, and outlawed by wives because, coffee made men think better.
Later, after the men fought it and women thought about it, Women used coffee as a bona fide issue of law for divorce. Grounds for divorce was the man's inability to provide coffee for his wife.

These legal situations regarding sex and coffee are 300 or more years old.
If you were to associate sex with a drink: alcohol, water, soda pop, tea, or coffee; the world would choose coffee. Coffee, scientifically, can be linked to improving both men's and women's sexual functionalities. Many would like to get one drunk on alcohol but ninty percent of the people on first meeting say; "want to get a cup of coffee?" Or, "lets go for coffee."
Not only has there been legal sexual activities regarding coffee and scientific evidence, but how can you explain many brothel madams actually getting off their back, patenting more coffee making apparatus men? French men shouldn't feel alone. The brothel owners of Germany, Italy, Spain, and Switzerland out did their men too. The purest form of economics involving the oldest profession in the world, and science supports the concept that coffee can be linked to improving both men's and women's sexual functionalities.

No other substance can claim the equivalent for sexuality and lawful voluntary consumption as coffee. Alcohol doesn't even come in at a close second. Tea is way down at the bottom of the list. Soda pop is higher on the list than tea. Soda pop has caffeine in it like coffee, but when it comes to sex, soda pop just doesn't have the pizazz. Coffee rules the bedroom.
Use the back arrow, or back function.

2006-10-16T02:57:00.000-07:00

Edgy- Beauty

(Got this result from a tickle.com test...)

A risk-taker by nature, you like to play around with beauty and fashion. You have fun changing your look to match your sparkling and wild personality. Whether you go for a crazy hair color, glittery makeup, or an all-over black outfit, your style changes with your moods and shows the world what you're feeling.There's a fearless creativity in you that others admire. You don't pay too much attention to what others say — you blaze your own trail in life. And as soon as the world catches up to your style, you're on to something new. That's beautiful!

***
pathetic how i rely on on-line quizes to know how the world sees me. durr.. i even sought for the "love calculator" in yahoo to check if jb and i are compatible. results say we have 0% of working out.

2006-10-12T02:21:00.000-07:00

Bank Account

The cream-colored bank floor
is looking at me.

It is intently looking at me- prying,
prying if i might show it the deposit slip in my hand
and the four pieces of crisp, blue billsin my wallet.

The bank floor is staring at me.
it is watching with pretend innocence like a cat
benevolently watching you as you eat
then it jumps
and steals the lone galunggong from your plate.
hunger will feed on your stomach
as you now watch the cat tear your fish
with desire in its eyes
and greed in its fangs.

The bank floor is staring at me
and its tiles are sloly forming a smiley face,
befriending the four crisp, blue bills now in my hand.
A pen in the other, as i try to recall
the account number dictated by my father
hours ago.
I saved it in my cell phone for easy recovery
but the bank gurad told me
to turn my cell phone off.

The lady behind counter one called
my number. I still don't have numbers written
on the deposit slip,
and she "tsks".
I heard the bank floor giggled.
I wanted to turn my cell phone on but
the bank guard shakes his head in disapproval.

I heard the bank floor laugh harder
and the lady behind counter one tsk
the people behind me in the line tut clearer.

All the tsk-ing and tut-ing bounced on the bank floor
and summersaulted in my head
and the guard's shaking head made me dizzy

I had to stomp.

the counter lady, the line behind me
and the bank guard all fell silent.
the bank floor whimpered in pain.

I turned me cell phone on, wrote mom's account number
and left my crisp, blue bills
to pay the rent.

2006-10-09T19:35:00.000-07:00

Nearly Headless

not nicolas de mimfy porpington (read harry potter). me!

final exams week and my book knowledge about taxation, strategic management, investment management and asian focus equalls to a zit.

lucky my investment management prof gave an open-notes exams yesterday and i am skilled at skimming and scanning with second-proximity. hoorrah! and i was seated next to the class genius.

my stat mgt prof gave an essay-type exams a while ago. hooray for english! hoorray writing!

Cha-cha-cha:

He was attacked by a great black cat two nights ago. poor thing. he can't fight back because his claws were trimmed.

he pooped cuz of fright. and i bet he swam on his poo because he smelled like it when he scampered inside the house and hid under the center table. he even peed there.

he was too tired to even protest when i gave him a bath. he can't sleep inside mom's room if he'll stay stinking wet.

the following morning while adrielle (sister and future world's top model) is cradling him, she announced that Cha-cha was able to fight back.

he's got black fur stuck in his trimmed and primmed claw.

2006-10-03T05:04:00.000-07:00

Holy Horrors!!!

number one: one of my Cha-cha's tooth fell. he can't eat well. like all cats, he licks his illness and i pitty the way he meows. i even have to cut his food thin for him. we took him for a ride in my mom's car and he's meowwing non-stop.
when i looked at his mouth, i saw the reason (ok, i cannot see it na because it fell, right) why he kept on bitting ang tugging my hand while i was sleeping that morning.

number two: whirlwind escapade! my boyfriend is really twisted. he decided to come to my house when 120 plus wind is raging through metro manila.
there was a four-day black out at our place and my mom finally decided to sleep in a hotel last night. these past days, though classes are suspended and i was free from work, i don't have a phone to use since the batterries went off on the first day. cafe managements are already deciding on finally giving me electric bills for charging my phone in there cafes.

number three: ghosts of t exes. this is a real pain in the behind. not to mention my boyfriend's paranoia. i have 17 exes. nightmare.

number four: i still have hundreds more!

2006-09-19T17:37:00.000-07:00

The Identity -confused Cat

because i woke up light headed last sunday, i decided to cook breakfast (also because our maid cooks horribly salty. no wonder we only have a pinch of salt left on the shelf).

i was happily humming "when i met you" while frying sunny-side ups when Chacha brushed his back against my leg. then he walked lazily to the trash bin.

not a bin, actually. it is a kfc chicken bucket with a plastic bag for easy trash disposal.

i watched Cha-cha dive in the bucket, stood on his hind legs, squatted, and guess what.. peed!

he peed in the bucket. like it was an arinola of some sort.

my mom was in the dining room and saw Cha-cha's routine. she was beside herself (again) and said that my cat must have watched her a million times do it on her throne.

cha-cha sleeps in my parent's bedroom. he's a smart cat and could copy anything in a jiff.

he copied mom's late night peeing.

how do we know he didn't get the idea of bonking blankets from their room?

poor kitty.

2006-09-17T04:57:00.000-07:00

Pink and Puke

i woke up with a light head- feeling totally floaty- this morning. aiah! love. ew. yey!

i've saved each "luv u" massage sent to my phone from 10am (he's an early bat) till 6 (yep. early bat) and counted a total of 26 inter-luvu's.

but then i had to hear barbie almalbis. arg!!! why is it legal to posses vocal chords that sound like mossy rubber bands!!! and kitchie nadal! i used to like her english tracks. and because the "masa" cannot understand her lyrics, she has to dress up as the throaty frog princess for her target market to understand her croaks!!! what's happened to the world!!!

back to effing barbie! yesterday, i was looking for a proper "song" for my shaggy. he laughed. theme songs deserve lots in loyola daw. (no, that was my term for it). anyway... we are both hooked by cran's linger and while i was singing it to him in the lrt station, i realized that it is a break up song! gah! so i decided to look for.. or hear for... a good enuf song.

and APO provided it. i didn't know the sang When I Met YOu! such a pretty song! effing good lyrics... my dad bought another pirated cd of the trio's "best of" album. (so sorry guys, no royalty for you) and i fell in love with it. i asked my shaggy to call me and i sang the chorus to him. he died. laughing.

and then i had to hear the effing barbie's remake. and she gurggled the whole song out! ef! ef! ef!

kindly kill her. please.

kitchie's good... please smack her head. be sure to ONLY hit the part of the brain that tells her to not listen to effing promoters so she could start making art again.

and yea, why did the industry kill lougie (mojofly)??? they squeezed her in a pink thingy (pink is good but..) she has to sing this ew song to market "power puffs"! i like the concept. but gah!

and this gay kid who "manages" this pc shop im in now, ah! kill kill kill!

i love pink. why do they have to mae pink pukey!

2006-09-13T02:45:00.000-07:00

Bad Spelling. Bad Grammar.

i had to delete my page on chacha. tsk tsk. naughty, naughty comments. i am that excited to receive comments that i do not read them before approving. argh.

but there's one who has given a good remark. and i hope... i really hope... that that one is finally jessica. the "annonymous" wrote two short sentences that inspire this blog update. bad speller. bad grammar. yey!

aiah! kuya pat! i miss your sweet little badmouthings. hehe.

aaahhh... i need tutors!

2006-09-10T17:26:00.000-07:00

Impulsitivity

I'm not sure if that's a word. but then again, i always "invent" words... mostly because of misspellings and lack of budget to buy a thesaurus. and it fits me.

anyway, last sunday's jcba membership night was a bore. the jcba team made a good job at finding a suitable venue, the food was delicious and the loss of professors was a nice change on academic "happenings", don't get me worng on that. the program was ok, my mood was not. another aggravation, ulk!... jcba, you don't put un-pretty people to emcee on stage if you don't want your audience to scram.

i've written that my boyfriend will be migrating soon right... argh! to alleviate my mood (and because our profs are giving incentives) , i attended this memnight and tried to "boy hop". i tried. i know it will come easy. i was wearing a tube top and the guys stared at me bums. i know, i can feel their eyes peircing through the cloth. anyway, it didn't make any difference though. my night was a bull. my boyfriend can't come to the party and i was angry because of what's gonna happen to us and we weren't together that moment. i was bored. i was raging. and i was running out of cigarrettes (argh! if you don't want your yosi buddy to burn a hole through your jeans, buy your own pack, cheapstake!).

i pulled Jami out of the party and called it a night. my boyfriend said that he was home and was drinking with his buddies. and i decided to go to his place. i didn't even know where. . just that he lives near Jami's and we will be drinking with him in an hour and a half.

the night went well... he cannot take his goofy smile off his face. ha! the git fell head over feet. and i love him for that! SHUCKS! i've said it! now it's official! ghad!

and yea... he was not even going to spain really. he was just testing what i'd do after knowing.

argh!!!!!!!! JB! you owe me ice cream and lots of white chocolates! you made my eyes leak! i need my happy-hormone supply back!

2006-09-07T22:16:00.000-07:00

Something Funny

remember when i said i've had enough ex-es to donate to future generations? rejoice! be gracious to your provider, future people! i think i'll be having another one for you.

i met him about two weeks ago. his laugh hit me like lightning. corny writing. hehe. ghad! i hate it when i get mushy!

two weeks ago, my friend, jenna, treated us (me, nhel, honey) at Wendy's and as usual, i was late. i ran from unesco club office (hidden behind bushes and shrubberies of the ust botanical garden), zigzagged my way through falling debris (exagg. ust constructions are safe. i hope) and slid along the wet pavements of dapitan to get to the "venue" just in time for a ticking 1hour delay. they shoved me to the counter and was forced to take orders from them. yes, because i made their stomachs grumbling for an hour. oh friends, they didn't eat to wait for me. aaawwww....

why did it hit me? it reminded me of Shaggy from Scooby-doo. and he looks like Shaggy! ear-lenght curls, goofy smile, lanky arms, stupid laugh.

or maybe i was just hungry.

yes, i was halucinating then. after an hour, i texted nhel and asked shaggy's number. she replied through his phone. nhel, her boyfriend and his gang of comic characters began a text-sex briggade, texted shaggy as me, and asked him out on a ""date"" (according to shag). anyway, i texted him at around 11pm while setting up for a late night movie. we texted trough the night, found that both of us are aliens from xenon, and clicked.

no need for haranas, nobody does that anymore anyway (you know someone who does??? weh!?). ok, we started smoking together. it's my parents' "bonding moment" so i guess its sweet. he calls me scooby. ew. mushy. nevertheless, i did like it. and he says it scares the creeps out of him to be mushy too... but he picks me up from school every possible day(nobody did since highschool) and sees me off to my workplace.

his parents now wants him to migrate to spain. freaking parents!

2006-09-06T03:50:00.000-07:00

Let the Mullah Flow!

first day of work today! and yep! work. not just the usual organization busy-busyhan eklat. yeyeyeyeyeyeyey!!!!

and though i'm a bussiness administration major (which would probably land me jobs as a clerk or a call center agent, whoopeedoo!(-_-)), i got me work in an advocacy firm! yey! serious journ. yep, ima write stuffs about clients and have em published in leading broadsheets and weekly mags! good thing there's spellcheck else, i wouldn't stand a chance without a freaking thousand page world word dictionary, thesaurus... and God's good guidance. hehe.

yep. journ. hmmm... my female boss read my resume just a while ago and worriedly ask if i could really patch sentences in a paragraph. plus, during my interview last monday (the day i got hired), my satna-like boss said i suffer from grammar lapses. i know, right. the eternal confussion between "has" and "had. "have" and "have". i said "i'm under medication, sir" (really, i did say that) and he laughed. hohoho bark. he said i don't have to worry since my "illness" isn't terminal and can be cured. whew. i thought i'd start deleting my blog. waaaahhhh.

2006-09-01T21:20:00.000-07:00

Paniki sa Panitikan

WAHHH!!! only 24 hours left to Pistang Panitik at the World Trade Center!!!! lots of books!! yes, because if you do not know, aug.27 - sept 3 was/ is the 27th Manila International Book Fair and tomorrow's the grand closing!! according to our guild adviser, Sir Vic Torres (Congratulations for winning Travel Writing in this year's manila critic's circle award! painom po!!!), one could buy five good books for TWO HUNDRED PESOS!!!! ahh... paradise!

if there really is heaven on earth, i'd count that event as one. gah! i hope i'd meet Jessica Zafra!!! i'll follow her til she throws a shoe at me-- at least then i'd have sumthing solid to put on my "Zafra Altar" hehe. i sound psychotic.

it's good i've decided to finaly trudge on the stones and bricks of Thomasian writing! lot's of the country's budding poets and fictionists have shared cigarrette packs with me. yey! and uh, our seniors are acquainted with my "Anita". yey!!!!

aiah! why am i plugging this event aside from its a haven for those who are looking for a good, sensual place for brain fucking??? cuz i'm going to perform!! haha! get your cams ready!!! among the Thomasian performers, i'm the only midget who hasn't got any lit award. yet. makapal lang mukha ko and i threw myself on Ned's (TWG VP for external affairs/ marketting) list of performers. i hope i sumhow suck some aura from the lit geniuses that day. nyahaha!!

2006-08-31T22:42:00.000-07:00

Day Job

arrrgh... the monotony of waking up every 4am to cook breakfast, clean the house, boil water (because the water from the shower turns ice exactly when it hits you) and the run-run race to get to manila(from san mateo rizal) at 7am is tearing my muscles apart. or my eyes bags at least.

when i got home at 7 last night, my bed's gravity pulled me instantly. it must have grown a magnet-like device that pulls the backs of human beings (tired human beings and or aliens like me) and strap them to its comfy cushions. plus, i have felt a strap pulling my eyelids shut. but who am i to resist such powerful forces??? and so i slept.

my phone's alarm went off at 11:30pm and broke the spell casted by my bed. as if on cue, my tax book jumped out of my bag and started shouting at me so i'd read it. to shut the freaking things up, i grabbed them both and threw them at the study table. i grabbed another 5minutes, 5minuets, and 5minutes of pure, unadulterated sleep.

course, it had to wake up. (even my dream told me so... imagine, it started with me frolicking in a park then it turned into a tru-to-life Silent Hill where i had to chop off a torso-mummy head with two screw drivers to save my sister!!!) i read and re-read tax and did not understand a word. blah.

i got to school at 7am. perfect timing, the prof's just doing the roll call. then he announced that the quizz has been postponed to monday! then my 2nd subject prof did not appear. my third subject prof just chatted with the front seater girl, and my last subject prof cancelled the reporting (which, for the first time, i did prepare for something academic)!!!!

i spent four freaking hours talking to my chewed up fingernails. my org meeting isn't up til 5pm!

gimmeback my bed for crying out loud!!!! hei! maybe i could build a tent inside campus and have it rented for sleep deprived students like me. yey! moneymoney! i'll get rich in no time!

2006-08-30T19:39:00.000-07:00

Sleeping Beat-y

could somebody give me an alarm clock?! and while you're at it, kindly attach a hammer on its ringer so i'd really wake up in time to catch my 7am TAX class!

i live in the mountains. and i am not exaggerrating. everyday's a jungle there. really. there's even a water fall. plus, our subdivision competes with padis point with regards to over looking metro manila night lights. yes, and in the morning, i could see the smog where my sister and i will be swimming in in about minutes.

i love sleep. i've been deprived of it since my parents considered me too old for Siestas. these past weeks, i'm lucky to grab about 3 hours of non-repulsed sleep. but hey, it's when everyone's asleep that i could finaly sit in front of the monitor to write. gah!

ernest hemmingway said it is when he's sleeping that he loves most because when he's awake, there's a lot of tendencies for his life to fall apart.

maybe that's it, i love sleep because half of the time i'm awake, i really can't find where myself got itself into. haha. and now you can't find me either.

2006-08-30T02:14:00.000-07:00

too serious. this wasn't me. it's my alter-ego. kai

*** yeah.. i know, too much Filipino burns fat. i now weight 102lbs after writing this.

Cha-Cha: Para sa Pag-urong o Pagsulong ng Pilipinas

Halos dalawang dekada na ang nakalipas nang amyendahan ang Konstitusyon ng 1972 alinsunod sa pagbagsak ng rehimeng Marcos. Ang kasalukuyang konstitusyong sinusunod ng Republika ng Pilipinas, ang Konstitusyon ng 1987, ay itinuturing na siyang nagsalba sa bansa mula sa traumang idinulot ng panahon ng Batas Militar gamit ang mga batas na nagbigay seguridad sa karapatang pantao ng mga Pilipino.

Marahil ang parehas na rasong nagtuturo sa pagiging hindi angkop ng pagbabago ng konstitusyon sa panahong ito ay ibinabase sa takot ng maraming muling maranasan ang mga hindi katanggap-tanggap na panggigipit ng gobyerno noong panahon ng Martial Law. Siya nga naman, sinong may mabuting intensiyon ang biglaang maglalahad ng proposisyong baguhin ang kasalukuyang sistema ng gobyerno ilang buwan bago sa pagtatapos ng termino? Sinong politiko ang hindi makikisayaw sa isang proposisyong siya din ang magiging lehitimong tagatamasa ng mga benepisyong ilalahad sa kaniyang paanan?

Maraming aspeto ang naglalahad ng pagiging gahaman sa kapangyarihan ng kasalukuyang administrasyon paukol sa pagpupursige nitong muling amyendahan ang konstitusyon. Isa na rito ang kontrobersiyal na Abuevas Commision na pinamunuhan ng mga bumubuo ng Executive Committee at tinaguriang People's Initiative. Ito ay may 2-Part Cha-Cha kung saan ang unang hakbang ay ang pagkansela ng eleksiyon sa 2007 upang bigyang daan ang Interim Parliamentary Government o transitory period namuling pamumunuhan ng Presidente Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo kaakbay ang puno ng Mababang Kapulungan ng Kongreso. Dito'y mapapahaba ang dapat sana'y hanggang 2007 na termino na siyang matatapos na, kung matutupad ang pag-amyenda, sa 2010. Sa pangalawang hakbang na bibigyang daan ang paghalal sa mga magiging pinuno ng bansa.

Masasabing ang naturang paraan ng pag-aamyenda ng kasalukuyang konstitusyon ay hindi napapanahon at itinutulak gamit ang hindi tamang proseso ngunit kailan nga ba ang tamang panahon upang maghanap at gumanap sa paraang pagbabago patungo sa pag-unlad ng bansa? Tama ang ideyolohiyang kailangan nang humarap ng Pilipinas sa mga nakabimbing problemang hindi maresolbahan ng kasalukuyang sistema. Tama ang pagbabawas ng mg aswelduhang hindi naman gumaganap sa tungkulin. Ngunit tama nga ba na ang kasalukuyang konstitusyon ang pagbalingan ng sita?

Ang Parliamentary System ay sinasabing magbibigay ng daan sa malakihang pag-unlad ng ekonomiya ng bansa. Malilimitahan nito ang pagtakbo ng mga hindi angkop na mg apersonalidad para mamuno sa pwesto. Sinasabing mapapabilis nito ang pagpasa ng mga batas na dating naiiwang nakatiwangwang sa mg alamesa ng pagkaraming mga opisyal na laging nasa bakasyunan lamang. Ngunit gaya ng kasalukuyang sistema ng gobyerno, hindi mareresolbahan ang mga problema ng bansa kung mga ganid sa kapangyarihan parin na walang mg autak na matino ang uupo sa pamunuan.

Sa Cha-Cha nga ba nakasalalay ang pagbabago tungo kaunlaran ng bansa? Sa mga taong mamumuno ba? O sa mga mambobotong siyang dapat na nakikinabang sa mga proyekto at kayamanan ng bansa? Bago punahin ang mga planong pagbabago ng sistema ng mga pinunong marahil ay kakutya-kutya nga, mabuting isipin maigi kung tayo ba mismo ang naging pabaya sa paglalagay ng mga gahaman sa magagandang puwesto sa lipunan? Kung ang pagbabago ng konstitusyon ay ang magiging sagot o hindi man sa mga hirap na pinagdadaanan ng bansa, walang kasiguraduhan ang magandang kinabukasan kung walang pagbabago sa mga ugali ng mamboboto at iboboto sa posisyon.

Hindi sistema ng gobyerno, mapa-Presidential o Parliamentary man, ang may depekto, kung hindi ang maling pamamalakad nito.

2006-08-25T19:02:00.000-07:00

PlunkFlunk

Finally, my dad has read the collumn i wrote about me flunking my Law2 class. he was first restrained about it. then mom went bonkers.
gah.

of course i am to blame. i haven't been reading my book those days. i had to manage a freaking computer station with hysterical kids and dim lights. i had to edit tons of poems and short stories. i had to keep the house clean. i had to cook breakfast and dinner every damn day. i had to wake up at four am every damn day. i had to go from manila(ust) to rizal(my home address) every damn day. and to top it all, i had to keep my parents from throwing knives at each other.

excuses...maybe. yes. all four of us (my sibblings and i) had flunking grades. even my cousins who were living with us then had flunking grades. we don't have money to send me and my sister to summer classes and i had to keep my mom sane by not letting her think of another thousand-bucks expense. not to mention the every day allowance and the absence of a summer house maid (me).

gahhh!!!!

whatudo.

2006-08-24T20:22:00.000-07:00

We Eat Cheese for Breakfast

We poets often talk about moons
its perpetual luminescence of its craters
of the light it reflects at night but it really does not reflect light
the sun reflects light to it to the moon
to the moon and its craters its craters that chewed footprints
of the first poet said to have galloped on it chewing cheese.

Yes , poets eat cheese for breakfast for lunch
for eternity it is cheese that fuels the gibbering
stomach of hungry poets that talk of nothing
but the moon its shining light its face drawn by rabbit feet
but the moon that swallowed footprints and flagpoles
and flags yes the moon swallowed flags and poets and rabbits
for breakfast.

2006-08-22T21:05:00.000-07:00

English Gets Us Where?

Just a week ago, i sat waiting for a date at gateway mall. A few minutes later, a guy asked he could sit across me seeing that the table i'm occupying can sit two. he was obviously someone from south asia, having read the topic during asian focus class. (besides, he looks just like my pakistani prof). he started conversation and, playing my part as a friendly, "hospitable" filipino, i chatted with a broad smile on my face.

he said he's glad to finally found someone who speaks good english from this side of the planet. he explained that when he was in osaka,japan, the only persons he could talk to were the filipinas who work in bars and hotels. he then asked if i recognize a julia from tv. when i said there's one julia clarete from channel seven, he said there's another girl with a "j" name who stars in i love new york. jolina magdangal. he exclaimed and said, "yeah, you look like her!" and then he asked if he could take me out on a date some time later.

gasp. gasp. it must have been because of the big christmas ball-like earings i was wearing.

..................

last sunday, my sister and i went to blue wave mall in marikina to research on elizabeth bathory (there's this computer shop with good good coffee).

after blowing off our cash (i have brought only 35bucks), we decided to go home. there's this exhibit for condominium units of marquinton residences outside the mall. my sister knows how i drool to live in those classy condominiums after college. one look and we both agreed to peek.

at the reception booth:

me: uhm, i'm looking for a single bed suite, to whom might i inquire?

guard (whispering to lady): naku, inglesera, ma'm

lady: tawagin mo si jeng

gurad: waytaminit ma'm.
...

my sister and i smiled at this. the condo lady who speaks in english toured us to all the five different suites for the condominium. after the tour, she led us in a small office and laid an imprint of the units and floor plan of the building. she started asking where and when do i wish to get the unit and then computed for the bills. my sister and i kept talking to her, convincing her than i will buy. she actually asked for my age and expected a twenty-year old to buy a whopping 2million-peso unit.

after all computations, my sister and i headed out of the exhibit and the english speaking lady ran after us asking if we are parked somewhere.

sister, me: there (pointing to totally different directions)

we ran down the stairs, my 10peso coins jingling, and strutted to the nearest jeepney stop. we could have passed for rich kids any time.

2006-08-04T19:28:00.000-07:00

Discover Me

bingo! i have been given a calling card of a certain band coordinator after my theathrical performance at my sister's birthday bash last night! tun-tununan-tanan! i knew that this whole sulking-because-of-a-fucked-up-love-life shit will turn out good. thank you stupid love songs.

that's another line stricken across my "things to do before i die" list. i've riden a plane without my parents, i've been made officer of a major writing guild, i have been published, i've fired a gun, i've modeled somthing, i've hung at the back of a jeep (yes folks! nakasabit ako... take note, i'me wearing ubber-girlie outfit,.fuckem gentledogs!), and now, i've performed with a band. yeyey.

things i'd still do...
1. be a pageant contestant!
2. make money!
3. make money!
4. be a pageant contestant!
5. have a daughter at 26
owell... i cant write them all right.

2006-08-03T20:01:00.000-07:00

EX-es and where to spot them

not that i'm pretty or anything. i've just had enough ex-es to donate to future civilization. it's a gift i have, to magnet assholes while i walk. and damnit. they're everywhere!

talk about a small world. i've ended a relationship with a band basist just last christmas and when i started with one of my organizations, a co-officer came up to me and announced that we have the same ex. haha. the beauty of it.. the mind block of what to say and how to react. of course i smirked and have been friends with thatt girl ever since.

that girl and i have shared drinking sessions with other rock chicks from the org. like betty dolls from "sugar and spice", we've fashioned ourselves with "barbie" names. haha. i got "retro barbie". that girl is "tamed barbie".

one of our all-girl sessions opened a discussion on how stupid our exes were. i started talking about my highschool boyfriend who happened to pass highschool with the homeworks, projects, and codigos i've made for him. i let his name slipped and poof! "punk rock barbie" exclaimed that she's ex with him too! that's two girl.friends., two boyfriends.

golly.

stoned barbie bursts out laughing and began naming all her exes hoping that i exclaim one of hers was mine too. and yes, there's a jc on her list which i'd rather not tell...

fuck these gits. they get to have barbies for lunch and it's always too late to learn they've already had too much.

2006-07-17T20:30:00.000-07:00

Life or Something Like it

yeah. yeah. i got it from jolie's movie alright!

i've been addicted to juggling too many things. it has kept me feeling alive! working for organizations are what i look forward to every single college day. i was made VP internal of both organizations i am currently working with.

Thomasian Writers GUild is a blessing. the president's the bomb. the other officers are brilliant! and i think i was just named VP internal to fill in the position. haha. i enjoy working with them of course. such talented individuals.

UNESCO is another thing. ok, i love the org. the enthusiasm of the new members. the willingness of the trainees to learn. but i hate the person i am working for! argghh!

i got this fortune cookie from chowking the other day and it read : if you can't work with love but with distaste, it is batter that you should leave your work. hmm... quite true. it got me thinking of quitting UNESCO, actually. but it isn't the work i hate... i love the work! i hate him!

again, this is not the "you-love-whom-you-hate bull. this is cynical! he is proposterous!

shit. iv canceled a dance tutoring because im pissed at him! i did not show up at the meeting because i feel i had to kill him if i will face him right now. i hate feeling this way towards work! i hate it when i know i am not giving a hundred and ten percent of what i can give. im being so unprofessional! fuck it!

owell,, lets just see if he can handle those without me! harhar!

2006-07-17T01:43:00.000-07:00

JUST PROMOTING ;P

LOVE IS AN OCEAN OF EMOTIONS IN "DONSOL"

There's nothing like a great love story to inspire us. Love may slip through your fingers but life goes on. There's always a better promise of things to come.

In Bicycle Pictures' Cinemalaya entry, Donsol, love is at the center this moving and powerful film- a heartwarming study of relationships that could but can't and never will be. Hence the tagline, "Love is an ocean of emotions."

Whalesharks, magnificent creatures of the deep, visit once a year the turquoise waters of Donsol. Daniel, the lonesome Butanding Interaction Officer (BIO) played by Sid Lucero, guides tourists in their interaction with the magnificent whale sharks of Donsol, Sorsogon. He finds himself drawn to Teresa (Angel Aquino), a woman as beautiful and mysterious as the enormous visitors of the sea. Burdened by past heartaches and uncertain of the future, the two find sanctuary in each other as love surfaces anew. As the tide rises and recedes in a cycle of loss and renewal, Donsol provides the breathtaking backdrop to a story of heartbreak, and the healing power of love.

Screenwriter Adolfo Alix, Jr. (Ada, Mga Munting Tinig, Homecoming, D'Anothers) describes his directing debut as a poignant love story about two people who may or may not end up together. "Both of them are haunted by their past, so they connected in this seemingly Edenic paradise but they have to face realties. People always come and go in our lives- friends, loved ones but in the end you come out of every experience a better person. The journey is more important than the destination. Whale sharks leave Donsol but there is always a promise that it may come back. If it does not return, the fisherfolk's lives have been changed by the visit of the sharks forever," Alix says.

Scheduled to premiere at the 2nd Cinemalaya Independent Film festival, the film boasts of a powerhouse cast- newcomer Sid Lucero; model/actress Angel Aquino; acting heavyweights Cherie Gil, Jaclyn Jose, Bembol Roco, Mark Gil; reliable thespians Simon Ibarra, Kenneth Ocampo with rising child star Aaron Junatas.

Also on board are cinematographer Eli Balce, underwater photographers Boy Siojo, Marissa Floirendo and Carina Escudero, editor Tara Illenberger, sound recordist Ari Trofeo, production designer Gessan Enriquez and music composer Jesse Lucas.

Donsol is definitely the one of the entries to watch out for this July 17-23 in the 2nd Cinemalaya Film Festival at the Cultural center of the Philippines. The film is produced by Bicycle Pictures in cooperation with GiantSponge Productions and with the support of Roadrunner Network Inc., Screencraft Productions and the Local Government of Donsol.
Schedule of Screenings at the CCP:July 18: 9:00pmJuly 19: 6:15pm (Gala Premiere at the CCP MainTheater)July 20: 9:00pm (CCP Little Theater)July 21: 12:45pmJuly 22: 3:30pmContact Maxie Evangelista at 0917-2431077 or7511169 (evenings only) for discounted tickets andgroup reservations.

2006-06-21T04:03:00.000-07:00

Chicken Shit for the Sole

..fine. this isn't an original idea. my sister lou, another demented ani-mamal, came up with "chicken shit for the soul"... as a business administrator stud, i innovated. :P hence the dramatic word-play. and duh... there is not a single "original" idea in writing.... no matter how "new" a theme may seem, surely, a molding, decaying once-human have thought of it. so kill me.

just today, FA, one of my ex-colleagues from the commerce journal and now the assoc. editor (again, congrats a milliom times over...though you should have been eic!), complimented me about my last collumn for the publication. as always, i felt happy about myself, having been praised by one of the few people i admire. but hey, credits to jessica zafra. she's like my anito (ok, anita??) from whom i'v adapted the rant-and-rave thingy...

i don't mean to immitate... it just works for me at the moment... for people like me who cannot stop themselves from screaming in pupblic when pissed, ms. jz is a sure cult leader.

well people, if you' re a struggling writer and nobody actually reads you (except maybe your pestered friends and sisters), ... hmm... wait.. who am i to give advises??? i'm one of you! damnit! :p

2006-06-16T22:54:00.000-07:00

I've been to Area 51

i went to this leadership training program of all UST organizations in pililia, rizal and look what i brought home... an alien scum! haha!

he sucks milk from a medicine dropper 6 times a day, eats all fingers in sight and attacks furry slippers!

my baby cha-cha. even my mom calls him apo... like when she's calling my dad to pick cha-cha from the living room to their bedroom, she's like "hoy, romeo, dalin mo na sakin yung apo mo. " ghad. my parents are getting old!

2006-06-15T20:49:00.000-07:00

Belly Up

before i've even reached home, my sister texted me that Boogie, out pet fighter fish, is dead. no, the picture is not him. sadly, in the 3 months he'd have resided in our living room, i did not take one picture of the critter. i scanned google for a likely Boogie-picture and this fish matched him. so there.

Boogie is our gift to our brother on his 10th birtheday. being a wrestling addict, my brother first decided on naming the swimmer Cena (John Cena, RAW) but we convinced him to change the name. he thought of the Boogie Man, another wrestler whose strategy is to scare his oponents, therefore, the name. So there, we cristened the water cutie, Boogie Fish. lame.

its been three and a half months and we are surprised that he continued living. the pet store owner said he'd only live for about 2 months. its not like there were thrills and shocks with Boogie Fish around. i just miss cleaning his miniture bowl while preventing him from jumping out of the dipper (tabo).

i'm actually scared of fishes. i find them weird. like cockroaches with their spindly legs, fishes have gills. anyway, fighter fishes have beautiful fins which pops like a sail whenever they get angry. i've seen Boogie do it a million times. we usually put a mirror in front of him and watch him attack himself. poor critter.

well, at least now Mambo, my pet dog, has another company in javines zoo heaven.

2006-06-14T22:10:00.000-07:00

kill that beast!

ok. i might have been exaggerating.. he isn't that hairy. but yes, fat, obnoxious, and utterly annoying! this is not the "whom-you-hate-is-won-you-love" bull. this situation requires a serious dealing with the exterminator! or better yet, me with a paper cutter executing a slow and painful death.

this is rage beyond imaginable limits! that git! i personally would not allow being belittled! he can take every doggy org member and shove them up his ass!

so much for non sense ramblings.

2006-06-13T21:13:00.000-07:00

first day fart

today's the official start of the school year and i've christened the day with being 30 minutes late for the first subject. lucky my tax1 professor has humor written all over his face else, i'll have another burden backpack shoved up my arse. so much for being called "the late, great, karren javines".

caffeine jolt at 9am. i only had 3 hours of sleep and my stomach felt hollow. same dilemma.. who to sit with??. Thought i have the same classmates, i did not have a proper "clique group" because of my disappearing acts for my last year's orgworks and my alien-defined people-skills. i really felt like a total social climber wanting to hang out with the A-crowd, or the goody-study group. and it did not feel right. good thing i'm friends with this girl who can stand my obnoxiousness.

i still feel shitty about yesterday's UNESCO club election. ghad! i cannot work well with people i don't approve of! is it normal or should i return to my planet, or maybe make somebody throw me back to it?!

2006-06-07T19:36:00.000-07:00

i never thought i'd experiance hanging from the back of a jeepney, ever. with what our "ociety" teaching that girls/women/ladies should be treated with gentleness and, uhm, respect and all that shit, i thought i would never fulfill one of my greatest shall i say, aspirations-- to ride a jeepney ng nakasabit just like any other guy who cannot pay his fare.
this is true. i am not even exagerrating. it is really hard to get a ride to our place. bundok kasi in short. so when i picked my sister up from school yesterday, we waited to two effing hours for a proper jeepney ride. (tricycles cannot go up our place and fx taxis do not exist.) roud trip jeeps are also full, with at least five men hanging on the rails. when finaly my nerves cracked, i pulled my sister and chased after the jeep carrying our place's sign board. when we got in, at least 26 people are already occupying the 22-seater jeep.

ghad! i need practice! my writing sucks already!! fuckit!

2006-05-26T03:08:00.000-07:00

Initiation Rite

i have attended the conferment of the degree of doctor of laws, honoris causa to UNESCO dir general koichiro matsuura in UST museum this summer.

it must have been a sign. if it were, it really was pretty good. just this monday, UNESCO Club UST executive officers, (from right to left) Rose Racca, Jennifer Garcia, Me, and Bryan Yu have introduced ourselves to UNESCO Philippine Commissioner Preciosa Soliven and to the UNESCO director general himself.

beside me was atty. jose sison and i have heard him joked about just being at their for the "social gathering" as part of his job being the UNACOM social science chairperson, a position he said "suited his wife better."

much more to do for the year. even though i will be working under an insipid org president (note the bitterness), i hope to achieve a higher spot for the org, and for myself as well.

2006-05-12T01:13:00.000-07:00

went to pangasinan with the family. i love outings. makes me appreciate my family more... lalo na when we sing songs in the car. with dad farting with every tune. mom ranting because it's hot and noisy...

hai.

2006-05-09T05:16:00.000-07:00

just took this "personality test"... was glad of the result. hehe.

here's it

BlackYour color is black. The color of night. Serene and mysterious, black conjures up images of elegant evening gowns, dashing tuxedos, and gleaming limousines. Traditionally a symbol of success, black also represents power and an uncompromising demand for perfection. Not surprisingly, you tend to set challenging goals for yourself and do whatever it takes to achieve them — your strength of character is second to none. This unfaltering determination, along with your natural elegance, impresses people. But keep in mind that your personality might be intimidating to some. Try to temper your demanding side with a little softness — trust us, it won't kill you. Overall, though, black is the color of professionalism and achievement, which means it's clearly the color for you.

for your "personality", log on to http://web.tickle.com

2006-05-09T03:21:00.000-07:00

UNESCO club UST

i really do not know if i am called to do this kind of stuff... you know, social work. when i was younger, i have dreamt of adopting street children and putting them in a mansion if i get to have enough money.

when i got rose's call asking me to help her revive unesco club-ust, i agreed to it abruptly because i know that unesco is widely known by its name and i might get a share of it somehow if i will work well as an officer. it's just this afternoon that i realized that unesco is not just a popular social-thingy organization. it really is work and a helping body. gosh. i really am glad i was crude enough to say yes. although i had not-so-good intentions, i now know that this might be the calling i was keeping my ears out for.

maybe this is why i flunked law. the world does not need another liar and power-thirsty jack. maybe, i'd make a good jack-ass lawyer that was why the cosmos made me flunk it. so that there will be less power-tripper and more golden hearted individuals.

2006-05-05T06:30:00.000-07:00

it was my first job (as in job) interview today. i never expected it to be that easy. i just posted an application on-line and jobstreet select textedme two days ago. then, yesterday, i attendedthis screening thing for applicants. i wentwithout even knowing what i applied for and to which company exactly am i going for. i just went at rob gale and waited for birds to poo on me.

initial and final interviews were a breeze. written exams seemed like a guidance test and the typing accuracy thingy felt like blogging.

today i went to convergys and thought i'd be fried. nothing of the sorthappened. i just sat in front of the computer, waited forpapers to fill in. we were made to answer a kind of aptitude test for computer know-hows and i was actually shocked to know that my hotch-potching got me through. i actually passed for a possition higher than that of what i am applying for. too bad, my schooling sched can't guarantee me the job. i need the mullah!!!

funny, while listening to simulated voices of ranting customers, i suudenly felt hot drops of liquid wetting me undies. lucky there was a mini stop store inside the building else i will be walking through ortigas with a blood-stained buttocks.

2006-01-20T17:02:00.000-08:00

Mr. Roach
by Karren Mae G. Javines

I almost ate cockroach today (the day I wrote this column, rather). As I set my sisters’ uniforms in the laundry sink, a huge, brownish red, antennaed-creature poked its ugly head from the drain. It twitched its spindly legs, ran up to my sisters’ uniforms, onto my arms. Naturally, I screamed my head off. Mr. Roach must have been freaked out, too so he ran up my shoulders while I jumped non-stop in disgust.
He might have thought that there had been a big, yellow monster coming out of the sink by the way I was screaming and he ran to me for refuge. How quaint. No, Mr. Raoch! My mouth is not a comfy cave! I tried brushing him off me, instead he slid inside my loose shirt, rappelled from the walls of my skin, but thankfully fell to the ground. I jumped on him, squished him to death, and buried him in the trash can.
I resolved to washing myself along with the clothes (No, I did not went in the Laundromat).
Recently, I have read that cockroaches are not gifted with the ability to walk backwards. Maybe that was why the hideous critter climbed to me when he thought that there was a monster coming after him. He does not have anywhere else to run to, being on my arm already and cannot go back to save his puny little life. Too bad for him, he was deceived by my seemingly nurturing facade and got squashed.
But what if Mr. Roach did not find me safe at all? What if critters like him define human beings as disgusting, fleshy giants? Suppose they find our lack of antenna and winglessness weird and unnatural and also scream their heads off (trivia: roaches can live for a week if decapitated) at the sight of Sapiens. What do they feel when coming face-to-face with a 5 feet, living, breathing monstrosity who would hammer them with brooms and slippers? Hmm… hard to imagine.
How about the reason behind ants being ignorant of family planning and elephants having only one baby in ten years? It would be a more populated earth if these species swap reproductive customs. Suddenly, the saying “elepante ang nilalanggam” makes perfect sense. It would scare me if bits of ants would be feasted upon by thousands of elephants.
Imagine elephants as human beings and people as cockroaches. Brr… I wonder how scared Dumbo will be when he sees me. Omigosh! How squashed will I be?!

2005-11-30T23:48:00.000-08:00

Itsy-Bitsies

Divine Coincidences

“You saw me before I was born.
The days allotted to me
had all been recorded in your
book,
before any of them ever began.”
Psalms 139:16
µ µ µ
When I woke up at four in the morning last March 21, I started mumbling non-stop prayers asking God for guidance as if the mumblings I did the whole year were not enough. For the past semesters, He kept making it clear that He would not grant what I was asking for by sending me signs that my prayers were pointless while I stubbornly shook my head and convinced myself that those were mere coincidences.
After getting out from the shower, I opened my mom’s 40 Personal Prayers book telling myself that maybe my incoherent pleas might be stronger and more insistent if I will combine it with my mom’s tried and tested petitions. But the page I flipped might as well be a death sentence. It was “Prayer for one who is frustrated” and it read, “I lay bare the disappointment and pain that fill me. I did not receive what I expected. I did not reach what I aimed for.” I started to feel nauseous.
To refute the book, I ran to our altar to read those prayers that come in cards in calendar format and the prayer for the day read “Day 21- Sovereign God, I thank You for each disturbing or humbling situation in my life, for each problem or hindrance and I thank You in advance for each disappointment that may arise in the coming hours and days. Amen.”
No, I told myself. It just so happen that that prayer landed on this day. I grabbed Amusing Grace, the first spiritual book I could find, opened it on the first page and read chapter one, “When God Says No.”
Okay… re-wind, and freeze. God, try to focus! I visualized holding protest banners and organizing picket lines outside heaven’s golden gates. I am just three hours away from my Accounting qualifying examinations. Lord, You can’t do this to me! I shouted, well, imagined I shouted at Him. If this were a comic book, my statements would be in big pointy bubbles and I would be caricatured waving my fists at God.
I tried to shoo bad omens and signs of negativity to calm myself, but they just kept coming. My being superstitious made it worse as I kept seeing dead butterflies, flowers and rats on my way to school. So I ate and drank chocolate to add happy hormones to my system and stopped by the UST chapel to pester God, along with the other pleaders and protesters like me.
The four-hour exams came, went and left me blank. Honestly, I could not remember any item on those questionnaires although I am pretty sure I have come across them at least twice during the year. Maybe, my Guardian Angel does not know accruals and inventories more than I do that was why he was not able to whisper answers to me.
With all His signs waving at my face, it did not come as a shock when my name was not listed among the lucky 300. The problem was, how do I tell my parents that I didn’t get what they want for me. After weeks of convincing them that I did not intentionally flunk the exam, which included late night freak-outs, before-test therapies and almost-suicidal attempts, they finally allowed me to pursue Business Administration.
God has planed to answer MY prayers after all.

µ µ µ

I was busy with my cell phone when I heard Julius Babaw reporting, “Isang UST Engineering student ang nagpakamatay dahil sa bagsak na grado” last May 29. According to the news, the student suffered from frustration and hanged himself with a curtain rope. I really felt sorry for him because I knew exactly how he must have felt. If not for Paulo Coelho’s Veronika Decides to Die, Globe unlimited call and text promos, and my sister’s taunts, my face and story would have been flashed in the news as well.
I have seriously considered that dreadful alternative to put a theatrical end to my exasperations. It’s just now that I realized that doing it would be: 1.) Selfish. I still have three siblings to attend to; 2.) Meaningless. I can still prove to my parents that my being a Business Administration student slash editor slash cheer dancer would make them proud; and 3.) An added aggravation. Dying is so expensive today. The money for funeral services might as well go to bills and fees. Although I have decided that I would die a media-studded death, I am thankful that my constant debates with Jesus Christ kept me from jumping off the back of my dad’s motorcycle.

2005-11-30T22:56:00.000-08:00

sigalot ng mambabarang

gabi-gabi kitang
mumultuhin at
sa pagtulog mo’y
ako ang iyong bangungot.
minu-minuto kang
maghahabol ng hininga,
segu-segundo kang
hihingalin.

hihigupin
ng bawat baso ng tubig na iinumin mo
ang iyong lakas
at ang kada lagok mo’y
tutumbas sa tatlong tabong pawis.
maiiwanan kang manilaw-nilaw,
uhaw,
lusaw.

tandaan mong ako lamang ang hanging
tanggap ng baga mo at
magsisisi kang pinili mong
hindi na huminga.

ako ang tanging dugong
puwedeng manalaytay sa iyo.
at sa paglalaslas mo,
sa pagtataboy mo sa buhay na dala ko,
dadapuan ka ng lason ng
Anemia,
Diabetes,
Cancer,
Leukemia

na ako rin ang may dala.

Isinusupa ko,
Babalik sa iyo ang sumpa.

.... it's not like i'm cursing someone to death or anything. my tula just wants to empathize with an extremely hurt woman. and as any love-loser would naturally react, my woman would like to cause the same suffering to her former lover, exactly as she experienced being hurt... or being cursed, as what my poem portrays.

my ghad! one of my lit profs wouldn't want to sign my entry form for this university-wide lit competition just because one of my tula's cocluded with a curse statement! hmm... so much for teaching literature.