| A dose of home |
[15 Nov 2009|12:44am] |
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Gotta Have You- The Weepies |
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"I wanna make a ray of sunshine and never leave home." - Gotta Have You by The Weepies
As I grow older, I sometimes feel like I'm gradually giving up some part of my identity in exchange for something new--- the ability to function in this world.
Let's take this new lifestyle of mine for example. As a magazine writer, I get to encounter a lot of different places, events, and people that might not have been me back when I was still a student. And my new experiences aren't necessarily bad. It's just that it's sometimes hard to maintain a solid sense of who you are when you're always expected to change and adapt according to new situations on a daily basis.
It is exciting, yes, but I can't help but feel lost when I do it too much and too soon. For example, I'm expected to act as an extrovert who likes talking with people and who likes fashion and parties and hip hop and hipsters or whatever. Most of the time, I feel like I'm relying mostly on bravado---fake bravery. No matter how many self-help books I read, my instincts keep telling me to run away to the other direction when I get daunted by silly things like fabric, accessories, DJs, wild nights out, depressed musicians, or "networking."
I don't even like that term: "networking." I see journalists do it all the time. During events, everybody talks to each other with a fake flight-attendant smile to try to get something from the other person. I know that's part of the job and that this is totally Betty Suarez's dilemma in season 3 of Ugly Betty but damn it, I don't like interaction with any hint of faking. It feels cold and threatening...to have to watch every word I say so that I can make a good impression or so I can get a good business contact that would benefit me in the future.
I also have an immediate supervisor whom I consider as a know-it-all asshole and whom I'd like to punch in the face just to know how it would feel like to finally shut his piehole that's always spewing things he's sure no one else knows about just so he could feel better about himself. But of course I couldn't do that 'cause I don't want to risk getting fired for a knee-jerk reaction.
It's all part of the job, and I know I'm risking being on "whiner" territory here, but give me a break! There's only so much a bona fide introvert can take. And the Raydon that I know can only absorb so much change in two freaking months.
That's why I never hesitate going back here in Muntinlupa during weekends. I especially like it when Ma and Pa volunteer to fetch me (like they did this afternoon) and take me back home. Childhood issues, teenage issues, and parental issues aside, nothing beats the feeling I get when I set foot inside our house. It's like everything falls back into place. The chaos in my mind suddenly conforms to the contours of familiarity. Just the scent of my bedsheets and the taste of our signature sinigang(which my parents prepare every time I go home) have this ability to ignite a sense of warmth. Suddenly, all the pressure or whatever else is threatening me is gone.
These are the times when I realize that all the issues I have had in the past regarding this house or my family don't matter anymore. In this place, I don't have to twist or to whittle myself away just so I can function during the day.
A dose of home is enough to remind me that I am just fine,that I am loved, and that I can be perfectly happy and content...just as I am.
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| In fairness sa buhay ko ngayon... |
[07 Nov 2009|12:49am] |
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For Now- Avenue Q |
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Disclaimer: Isang Tag-lish na post.
In fairness, okay naman ang buhay ko ngayon.
May trabaho ako. Nakajackpot nga ako sa una kong trabaho dahil nakapasok ako sa isang magandang lifestyle magazine, tulad ng pinlano ko para sa sarili ko noong nag-break ako nang ilang buwan pagkatapos kong gumraduate. Nakakatuwa rin na puro bata at mga cool ang mga kasama ko so hindi ko naman masyadong nararamdaman ang alienation, subversion, at kawalan ng structure na ina-associate sa Quarterlife Crisis.
Nakakatuwa rin na naipasok ko si Kristine Dabbay dito sa Status kaya may kasama ako sa mga pinagdadaanan ko sa trabaho. So hindi ko naman nararamdaman na lonely ako. Ang saya nga eh. Parang halos everyday may bago kaming karanasan at natututunan. Palagi rin kaming kumakain at nakakadiskubre ng masasarap na pagkain lately. hahaha. Kung saan saan kasi kami napapadpad. So siyempre, mas naging close na kami.
Oo, minsan medyo mahirap o nakakapanibago. Nasabi ko na ata sa previous blog post ang mga naipong stress sa sistema ko nitong mga nakaraang buwan. Pero in fairness talaga, sa mga ganitong tahimik na mga oras... narerealize ko na ang swerte ko pala.
Nagagawa ko naman ang mga gusto ko lately.
Marami naman akong lugar at mga pangyayaring nararanasan, tulad ng Philippine Fashion Week. Andaming hot! hahaha!
Natututo na akong pumarty lately kasi required sa trabaho namin makipag socialize. So cool din kahit papano. hehe.
Nakakapagsulat ako palagi ng feature article (eto naman talaga ang pinangarap kong trabaho).
Hot naman ang 2 sa 3 kong boss. Yung isa okay naman... matalino. Hehehe! (Mga babae yung 2 sinabi kong hot. Kahit na ano pa ang preference mo, baka magkacrush ka rin sa kanila pag nakita mo sila. hahaha!)
Ang lapit sa condo ko ng work ko so 'di ko kailangang mag commute. 'Di ako apektado ng traffic. Hehehe!
Maayos kami ng family ko ngayon.
Mas nag-uusap kami ni Mama 'pag umuuwi ako ng Alabang tuwing Sabado at Linggo. Nakikipag bonding na rin ang kapatid kong si Loranz sa akin (lalo na 'pag kasama niya ako sa kotse niya. Akalain mo nga namang nagddrive na yung emo na mokong na hip-hopero na 'yun?)
At in all fairness, nag-uusap na kami ng tatay ko.
Nakipagbati na ako sa wakas sa tatay ko nung napanood ko ang episode 4 ng season 6 ng Grey's Anatomy. Nakipagbati na kasi si Meredith Grey sa tatay niya. sabi niya, "The door is open." So ginaya ko ang ginawa niya. Kasi kung kaya ng fucked-up na si Meredith na makipagbati sa kanyang mas fucked-up na tatay, kaya ko rin. Alam mo 'yun?
Sumusuweldo naman ako so mas nadagdagan ang pera ko. (Okay na rin naman, considering na first job ko 'yun.)
Mas gumaling ata ako sa oral English kasi grabe ang English dito sa office. Global kung global.
At mukhang mas close ata ako kay God ngayon kaysa nung teenager pa ako. Ngayon ko ata nararamdaman ang significance Niya sa buhay ko. Hmm... Feeling ko siya ang dahilan kung bakit ang dami kong "in fairness" eh. Salamat naman sa'yo, Big Guy!
Showing na ang season 6 ng Grey's Anatomy, season 4 ng Ugly Betty, season 3 ng Private Practice, season 3 ng Gossip Girl, at season 6 ng Desperate Housewives, so marami ulit akong puwedeng kaadikan. Hehehe!
At in fairness (again), nararamdaman ko naman na masaya ako 'pag nagsubside na yung stress. Kasi di ba, masama yung pag nagsubside yung stress eh mas nagiging miserable ka? Ibig sabihin nun, di ka fulfilled. Pero dahil satisfied naman ako, ibig sabihin siguro fulfilled naman ako in some way.
Oo nga, andyan ang stress, ang isa kong matalinong editor na hindi ko na ata makakasundo pagdating sa writing style (mas nakakasundo ko yung 2 kong hot na boss), at ang pressure na mag transform sa isang extroverted introvert. (O ha? San ka nakakita nun? hahaha)
Andyan din ang fact na may frustrations din ako kasi gusto kong mag branch out sa writing. Gusto kong maging writer for life pero siyempre, gusto ko na maging multi-dimensional person. Gusto ko maging Psychologist, gusto ko mag explore ng ibang art form, gusto kong mag travel, gusto kong maging master ng isang somatic art tulad ng yoga or tai-chi.
Pero kahit na may mga frustrations ko, alam ko naman na maganda ang mga nangyayari sa buhay ko lately, at na malayong malayo ako sa pinakangmalalang sitwasyon na puwedeng mangyari sa isang tao. Ang teorya ko, yun ay ang mamatay ka na isang adik, lame-ass loser, slacker, bum, never nagkatrabaho, never na in-love, never nagkaroon ng kaibigan, never nagkaroon ng tamang pamamahay, never napanood ang Buffy the Vampire Slayer at ang season 5 ng Grey's Anatomy, never nagustuhan ng ibang tao, at never nakipagsex.
In fairness, marami naman na akong mga "never" na na-eliminate sa buhay ko.
So in conclusion (and in all fairness to the nth level), okay na okay pala ang buhay ko ngayon.
Akalain mo 'yun? :)
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| L-earn-ing |
[10 Sep 2009|12:40am] |
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Dreams- Fantastic Plastic Machine |
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 Notice how the only difference between the words "learn" and "earn" is one letter. There's a reason why I chose Journalism over Literature when I shifted to a writing course three years ago. Although my interest lay primarily in creative writing, I figured I wouldn't be able to do much if the only things I would know were literary texts and theories. By joining the world of journalism, I hoped that I would expand my horizons beyond the realms of science (which was practically my world for six years before I started to take writing seriously) and books. I wanted to learn more about the world so I would have something to write about. Having something new to write everyday also seemed the perfect way to dispel the possibility of boredom or monotony. Fast forward to today and I am realizing the goals which I had set back then. But I didn't expect the constant adjustments I would have to do to become a full-fledged writer and journalist. I actually joined lifestyle magazines for my internship and for my first job because I wanted to learn about things I was interested in: pop culture, television, art, music, and so on. I thought that by joining these publications, I would learn more along the way about my interests and maybe discover something new and pleasantly unexpected as I work through my daily tasks. I soon found out that being in the field of writing requires a certain expertise in the topics you are writing about. My stint in Fudge Magazine, for example, proved to be one of the first challenges I encountered in magazine journalism. Although I liked television shows, movies, and music, I was always very selective about which ones I liked. But as a magazine writer, I needed to write about events and happenings in the culture that I had not been familiar with. The same goes for my current job. Although I like art and culture, I only do so in a very abstract sense. To put it simply, I like looking at art and appreciating its effects on my mood. Perhaps I can even determine the motive or intent behind the work since I am a good reader of people, not to mention I love social psychology. But I know practically nothing about the details and the people behind art and the the community that thrives on it. Seriously, I don't follow the blogs of artists or exhibits or independent musicians and what not. The few exhibits I went to were because of the Varsitarian and Fudge Magazine. And Fudge mainly allowed me to cover art events in a generic "layman's point-of-view" manner. Here in Status, I have to really know what's going on in the art and street culture around the world as I write at least two to three articles about this kind of thing every day. To think I'm also doing features about fashion, the thing I really was not into from the beginning of my adolescent years. This change threw me off a little during my first week. Everybody around me seemed to know everything they needed to know. They were into all these things from the beginning and to the very last detail. Here I was, thinking I could just start learning about all of it now. As if a few months are enough for me to encompass everything about what I got myself into. But I really don't want to beat myself too much for my ignorance. Perhaps I was naive in thinking that learning these things by writing about them would be a breeze. But give me a break, you've got to at least give me credit for wanting to learn. That's the reason why I began all of this in the first place. I know now that incorporating myself into this world as a worker and as a person who wants to become truly part of it requires an infinite amount of patience and a strong sense of industry. There's no breezing through if what I want is truly worth it. I have to earn it. I have to learn it. Yes--art, street culture, indie music, fashion: these things have definitely been their territory for a long time now, years before I started aspiring to join the field. But the challenge now lies in making their territory my own. The ultimate goal remains the same. I want to add layers and dimensions to my personality by experiencing a lot of different things. Besides, I'm actually having fun learning about the culture each day. I'm excited to wake up and go to work every morning because of it. I'm even more excited about the possibility of reaching the point of expertise where I can introduce this to others like myself who might also want to become part of something so inspiring but have no idea how to do so. :) And so, I shall continue pressing on. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- My first week in Status has really been enjoyable. I remember Matt telling me that I had to find a job that would make me sing every morning as I make my way to my future office. In my case, I'm not only singing every morning, I'm actually pseudo-dancing on a daily basis to Madonna's "Jump"---the song that has quickly become my morning hymn. Haha! The people in the office are really nice too. Ms. Rosario Herrera, Vicky Herrera, and Nante Sta.Maria have been easing me into the way the magazine works. I'm actually joking with them occasionally, a sign that I've at least established some kind of rapport. They also dubbed me with a nickname-cum-pen name: "RAYRAE." Hahaha! Cute. o__O However, I'm not really joining them for lunch everyday for two reasons: 1) Two of my bosses said they were "not really lunch people." (How do you become a non-lunch person? I like lunch. Lunch time is me-time! Hehehe.) 2) All of the "lunch people" are smokers so most of the time, I have to wait in the corner for them to finish their cigarette sticks---which isn't really my thing. Magmumukha lang akong outsider tuwing lunch. So I resolved to eat alone at People Support during my lunch break. Plus, I'm kind of shy so I'm still easing into the whole socializing with workmates thing. But bottomline is I'm happy about my work now. I'm so glad I didn't accept previous offers for jobs I wasn't enthusiastic about. I feel vindicated about my decision to wait a little longer until I found something I felt I could at least feel some fulfillment. I thank God for this opportunity. =) I hope I do well in the coming months. Excited na rin ako sa una kong suweldo. Hehehe!
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| The root cookie, in more ways than one |
[07 Sep 2009|02:41am] |
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I'll go crazy- U2 |
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 Ask the average Manileño what a chocolate chip cookie is and he might tell you the different brands of cookies he has eaten throughout his life. Who can blame him? Besides the fact that its obviously sweet taste appeals even to small children, different products of imported chocolate chip cookies can be found almost anywhere in the metro—from major supermarkets, drug stores, and even sari-sari stores. But ask him about our country’s own “Uraro” biscuits and he just might give you a blank stare.
As a certified city boy myself, I grew up chomping pre-packaged and imported chocolate chip cookies on a regular basis. Back when my brother and I were still children, our parents would often bring home plastic bags full of Chips Ahoy after coming back from work. Needless to say the bags of flour-based sweets rarely lasted a week inside our house. It wasn’t until much later that I would first encounter the uraro cookie.
My mother’s family originally hailed from the island of Marinduque, where the uraro comes from. Although I have only visited her home province twice, my mother frequently tells me stories about her days in the place where she spent her childhood. A big part of her experience in Marinduque includes the times when she and her siblings would gorge on uraro biscuits or when our grandmother would boil uraro roots in coconut milk and serve them as a snack. The uraro is actually the root crop used in making the flour for the biscuits of the same name. English speakers call it the “Arrowroot,” owing to its shape that resembles an elongated arrowhead.
I initially got a taste of the uraro cookie when my uncle brought it to our house as pasalubong. Placed in plastic containers, the biscuits sported a heart shape and a light-brown color which grabbed my attention. But my first bite of uraro did not make that much of a mark on my mind. It certainly wasn’t the burst of sugary sweetness I, along with other kids my age, was accustomed to.
However, I ate a few more pieces and found myself unconsciously getting hooked. I began to appreciate the way it melted in my mouth just seconds after I started chewing it, not unlike polvoron. I also discovered that its subtly sweet taste sneaked up on the one eating it only after a while of continuous consumption. What’s more is that when I examined a half-bitten piece, I noticed incredibly thin and translucent strings emerging from the inside. My mother explained that they were fibers that came from the root crop which the biscuits were made from. My uncle, who was a chef by profession, pointed out that the biscuit I was growing to like was mainly composed of uraro flour, margarine, and sugar. Who knew something so appetizing could come from such simple ingredients?
Since then, I always looked forward to getting a pack of uraro whenever relatives from Marinduque would come to visit us. Most of the time, getting a pasalubong was coupled with stories of their memories about their home province. They would narrate how they once rode horses in the ranch they owned, swam in rivers (years before mining in the area contaminated the water) and hiked towards waterfalls on a daily basis when they were young. They apparently led a very different and somewhat exciting life from the sheltered urban and possibly colonial existence I was accustomed to. Eating the cookies and hearing their anecdotes made me feel I was connected to something I had not imagined I was a part of. It was as if I was getting a glimpse of the home I never knew—a taste of my own “roots.”
 Having been around for more than six decades now, different generations of Filipino cookie lovers have been enjoying the uraro biscuits through the years. The bakery that produces them was primarily established in 1946 by the Rejano family in Marinduque, and their business of making baked goods founded on the uraro root is still booming up to this day. In fact, they have branched out beyond cookies and are now making pinipig, chips, breads, and pancakes based on the arrow-shaped root crop that the province is known for.
Luckily, one does not need to go all the way to Marinduque to enjoy the uraro biscuits these days. The cookies have been mass-produced and distributed since 2008 to major grocery centers in Metro Manila such as SM and Landmark. You can now find the red cans of “Arrowroot cookies” side by side with other native baked delicacies like polvoron and kamachile. This is good news especially for those who, like me, have yet to fully find out and understand just what their own “roots” have to offer.
After all, there is more to life than Chips Ahoy.
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| Jump! (Say hello to the new member of the work force!) |
[01 Sep 2009|03:56pm] |
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Jump by Madonna |
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Who knew Madonna could come up with the perfect song for yuppies? Right now, I'm playing "Jump" repeatedly on my iTunes as I celebrate the fact that I have been accepted as a full-time staff member of Status Magazine! Say hello to their brand-new editorial assistant. Hehe!
I first heard about Status when Ms. Anna Gan, the former managing editor of Fudge, referred me to them. It's basically a street art, culture, and lifestyle magazine. Cool. :) I started out as a contributor and I grabbed the opportunity when I found out they had an opening. I'm really excited about what's ahead for me when it comes to my first job. This is my first step towards a fulfilling career. And I really am ready to step up and join the working force---the daily circulation of life. Enough of extended vacations, at least for now. It's time to show the world (and find out for myself) what I'm worth. Here I come! Wish me luck and pray for me! :) "I'll work and I'll fight till I find a place of my own. Are you ready to jump?"- Madonna P.S. Please take the time to listen to the song and read the lyrics. Hehehe! Jump by Madonna There's only so much you can learn in one place
The more that I wait, the more time that I waste
I haven't got much time to waste, it's time to make my way
I'm not afraid of what I'll face, but I'm afraid to stay
I'm going down my own road and I can make it alone
I'll work and I'll fight till I find a place of my own
Are you ready to jump?
Get ready to jump
Don't ever look back, oh baby
Yes, I'm ready to jump
Just take my hands
Get ready to jump
We learned our lesson from the start, my sisters and me
The only thing you can depend on is your family
And life's gonna drop you down like the limbs of a tree
It sways and it swings and it bends until it makes you see
Are you ready to jump?
Get ready to jump
Don't ever look back, oh baby
Yes, I'm ready to jump
Just take my hands
Get ready to, are you ready?
There's only so much you can learn in one place
The more that you wait, the more time that you waste
I'll work and I'll fight till I find a place of my own
It sways and it swings and it bends until you make it your own
I can make it alone
I can make it alone
I can make it alone (My sister and me)
I can make it alone (My sister and me)
I can make it alone
I can make it alone
I can make it alone (My sister and me)
I can make it alone (My sister and me)
Are you ready to jump?
Get ready to jump
Don't ever look back, oh baby
Yes, I'm ready to jump
Just take my hands
Get ready to jump
Are you ready to jump?
Get ready to jump
Don't ever look back, oh baby
Yes, I'm ready to jump
Just take my hands
Get ready to, are you ready?
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| I'll do anything once! (A new column) |
[27 Aug 2009|08:11pm] |
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You, Me, and the Bourgeoisie by The Submarines |
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It recently hit me that I won't be able to live forever. I know our mortality and imminent progress towards death is already common knowledge but seriously, how much have we done to become our fullest selves so far?
We've spent almost ten decades practically locked up in a classroom or chained to our homes. Soon, most of us will be working and contributing to society behind the walls of air-conditioned offices, hospitals, or whatever space is available for our inherited and developed skills.
The thing is, I don't think work should be an excuse to confine yourself more, over and over, unable to see that the world is so much more than a series of enclosed spaces. Most especially, our youth shouldn't make us complacent about the chances we have of experiencing our own lives fully. Starting this September, I will be doing something new, unique, and probably even out of character each month to repel the cobweb-ridden hands of boredom and monotony. The tasks can range from the most extreme of activities (such as rappeling on the zip lines of Tagaytay or hiking to the top of Mt. Pinatubo) to ones that can be done in the comforts of my own home (such as actually cooking my own meals from scratch using recipes torn from magazines). I will also post pictures of myself (and of people who help me gain the new experience) along with my writing.I actually derived this concept from Fudge Magazine's regular column called, "I'll do anything once!" Let's see how far I can go with this. Hahaha!
I can even go more than once a month, who knows? But one each month is definitely the quota. :) To start it off, I present to you the "I'll do anything once" article I did for Fudge last year. Look at me jump on the bungee trampoline without puking! Ready, Set, Jump! by Raydon L. Reyes  AS A WRITER who covers events, I’m used to watching. I’m used to seeing people “do their stuff” while I observe and jot down notes from the sidelines. When I watch concerts, I make it my habit to move around the stage from different perspectives. I would hang-out at the back to see the multitude of people jumping up and down as their favorite bands perform their hits. The heart-shaking sound of the lead singer’s voice boosting out of the speakers and resonating in the air can be felt at its strongest at the front of the stage. I would look up to the performers and notice every expression, every movement; every bit of detail that makes them unique and yet, the same with every other musician in the business.
When I go to sports events, I keep my distance as I watch the skateboarders and bikers conquer concrete. I watch basketball and football players trip, get up, and continue playing. Dancers twisting their bodies into different positions as they spin on their heads and leap into the air make it seem like gravity never existed.
With my recorder in hand, I would interview these people afterwards and get to talk to them about the experience. And then, I would write whatever could be derived from their sentiments and my observations, submit the article to my editor, and be on my way to watch the next event.
Last May 23 was a different case as I covered the “Energizer Longest Lasting Extreme Invasion” at Metrowalk, Ortigas. Energizer called on the people present in the event, from bikers to skateboarders, breakdancers to passers-by, to engage in the challenges they had set to see “who can last the longest.”
The event started off with young breakdancers Mara and Abner from Dance Beat Machine battling it out in their hip-hop ensembles as they moved to the beat of songs like the severely overplayed “Low” by Flo Rida. Mara proved to be the better dancer and emerged victorious in the first challenge of the night.
Next up was host DJ Pam calling on the audience to come to the stage to test their flexibility. Four men sporting skin heads resembled elastic bands getting tangled up as they played a game of “twister.” As the men tried their best to reach for the colored dots, I walked around Metrowalk’s courtyard to get a better view of the contest and came across two trampolines placed side by side each other.
 The Velcro wall and the Bungee trampoline challenges loomed over me, inspiring an idea to watch the event from the top---literally. Although I had no prior experience of being hurled into the air, I supposed trying it once wouldn’t do much harm. Besides, the people from Energizer had notified me about ambulances being present in the event anyway, not that I planned on being the night’s first casualty. Giant rubber bands soon found their way to my waist as the men manning the bungee trampoline station prepared to launch me more than twenty feet from the ground. With a tug and a push for momentum, I darted off into the night sky and back again, repeating the same cycle of up’s and down’s, literally turning into a human yoyo. If you ever wondered what it feels like to go through the same roller coaster loop over and over, you should try bungee trampoline jumping. There’s something about shooting up and down that makes you stop thinking. At first, you may think about your organs adapting to the intermittent upward and downward movement to avoid puking on the spot. The next thing that comes to your mind is to kick harder and jump higher each time gravity pulls you back to that trampoline. But when you finally stretch those overgrown rubber bands as you reach the limit, everything seems to stop. At that split second, nothing else matters---not the host ushering people to the contests, not the bikers and the skaters performing their stunts underneath, not the people who are looking up at you either with the strongest interest or the most merciless indifference---nothing.  All that matters is you, arriving at that peak, having no idea what it is you’re trying to prove but proving it anyway. As I did just that, I couldn’t help but close my eyes for a second before I resumed going down to make my landing. My feet were a little woozy after finally making it back to solid ground. That, however, wasn’t enough to stop me from trying out the Velcro wall challenge, where I had to wear a sweaty and literally sticky jumpsuit (probably worn by eager participants throughout the day) and jump again, this time with the aim of sticking to the highest part of the wall.
By this time, Enemies of Saturn was playing their rock songs and I then decided to rejoin the crowd to watch the next act, Rivermaya. Although I resumed my reportorial duties as a journalist covering an event, I at least felt (and hoped) that things changed for the better, realizing that there are a lot more things to do than to just be a passive spectator. I couldn’t just watch anymore. Too many people do just that. -### |
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| Madonna, robbing the cradle of my generation |
[20 Aug 2009|01:08pm] |
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Ray of Light by Madonna |
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So Madonna has finally joined the bandwagon of snatching lean-toned hotties from their college cradles. Big surprise. (insert scandalized gasp here, followed by a rolling of the eyes)
What actually freaks me out a little about this is that the guy she's currently toying with right now is Jesus Luz, 22--- the same age as I am! She's freakin' 51, dude. That's almost the same age as my mom.
I mean, fine. I probably wouldn't end up playing underneath Madonna's sheets anytime soon, on the count of me being gay and all. Hmm... But... then again! (Gasp! Could it be that he's...)
But then again (again), I seriously would have thought somebody her age would have gotten over the whole romance thing by now. I dunno, after the failed marriages and everything.
Shouldn't she be contemplating her life at this stage already? She could be spending a week in a nice lonesome spot in the Himalayas as she recalls everything she has done and accomplished so far in her life. The usual intrapersonal journey of discovering whether it was all worth it---the music career, the multiple marriages, the lesbian kisses, the adoring fans, the gay stalkers, and what not. You know, the usual.
Or maybe she could join the monks in Tibet instead, ala-Avatar the Last Airbender style! We've seen how flexible she is. She could rock those martial arts moves without even breaking a sweat.
:)
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| Ruminations of someone who just regained his faith |
[19 Aug 2009|02:23am] |
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Panalangin sa Pagiging Bukas Palad |
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Do you want to know if there really is a God? Try staring death in the face and find out the first name that comes out of your mouth.
I went to Rockwell Powerplant Mall yesterday with Girlie for my cover on an event organized by National Geographic. A Filipino director had finally made it in the science channel with his documentary about a maritime disaster 20 years ago. He called it "Asia's Titanic" because approximately 4000 people died because of that accident.
Two Philippine ships, the Dona Paz and the Vector, collided at sea during the night and what's worse was that the Vector was carrying loads of fuel and kerosene. The two ships caught on fire and exploded, killing thousands of people and leaving only 24 survivors.
As I was watching the documentary, I contemplated on what I would do if ever I found myself in the same situation. Would I jump at the blazing sea (which had caught on fire because the fuel had leaked on to the water) or stay aboard the equally burning ship? Adrenaline aside, what would I be thinking if ever my survival was hanging on to a very thin thread?
Definitely, I would cry out for God to help me get through it. I would pray every second as I swam desperately to keep afloat and to get away from the conflagration. I would probably even make promises to be a better person---bargaining with God and promising that I would finally go to church every Sunday in exchange for my life. It's shameful, I know, but that's how my mind would work in such a scenario.
I actually already experienced a serious threat against my life three years ago, when I was held up aboard a jeepney in Quiapo. As I was giving my money and cellphone to the robber, who promised to kill me if I attempted to shout or get off the jeepney, I was intermittently closing my eyes and calling out for God to save me.
Three years later, I gradually forgot about what happened and found myself questioning most of His ways, or the ways of His church.
I got lost in intellectual theories about organized religion, noticing that religion almost always used a shame or guilt-system to subdue people's individuality and make them conform to unfair standards. Christianity, most especially, always emphasizes a punishment that would come with every wrong or impure thing we do. Even just having dirty thoughts, which occur naturally, is already considered evil and deserving of punishment and absolution.
I didn't get why believing in God had to entail sacrificing our individuality and happiness, as if the only way for us to be loved by our creator was by constantly effacing every bit that makes us who we are and what we stand for. I didn't understand what was so compassionate or good or loving about ridding other people of the chance to explore the layers of their own personality in this "temporary world."
I was turning into an agnostic. I didn't even have to use the term, but it was surely happening.
And then I met with Girlie, who experienced the same feelings back when she wasn't working. She told me she questioned and stopped believing in it all until she started working and "began needing it again." She actually felt fickle-minded because she couldn't seem to make up her mind about it, but she definitely admitted that it was all coming back to her.
It made me reflect on my own situation right now. I was questioning religion exactly because I haven't been doing anything regular lately. No work (except for the occasional freelance gigs). I've been doing nothing but pleasuring myself, meeting with friends, spending left and right, enjoying the things of the world, etcetera etcetera.
I was questioning my faith because I've gotten too comfortable. I was wrongly beginning to think I was above the whole Christian thing.
It did not matter even if it wasn't actually God I was questioning. Although I was directing my doubt towards the church (and not the existence of God, Himself), the church is in fact a communal representation of our faith in God here on earth. To doubt that would be to doubt God, I would suppose.
Who cared if the ways of organized Christianity was doubtful and oddly subversive? The fact is, I'd be in worse shit if I wasn't part of the church; if I only had myself to rely on.
More importantly, that whole "intellectually dissecting organized religion" seriously wouldn't do me any good if I was in a burning ship and was about to jump into the sea. Figuring out whether a religious belief was logically and inspirationally valid or not can not save me.
Only God can. Only God will.
I'm not going to give that up for the sake of being smarter than everybody else before my body sinks to the depths of the ocean. If I have to compromise my logic, my intellect, and my affinity towards individual human fulfillment for someone, it would be for a perfect being who promises to love me even beyond my life here on earth.
It would be for God.
---Ruminations of a person who just regained his faith.
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| Who else is pissed over GMA and the National Artist Awards? |
[02 Aug 2009|02:18pm] |
"Massacre."
That's how Filipino artists of different fields are dubbing the recent National Artist Awards nowadays. I've noticed that everybody is busy turning their rage towards the ones who won the awards given by our most hated president Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo. They claim that these "winners" did not deserve the title given to them. While I'm not that familiar with the standards of picking National Artists and with the candidates for this year, I am sure that these people are focusing their anger towards the wrong direction.
It is Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo, the devil woman president, who should be made to pay for interfering with the once highly honorable award.
It doesn't take a genius to understand why politicians, much less Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo (who might actually be the female counterpart of Satan himself), should not meddle with affairs concerning art. Art requires a great deal of HONESTY and self-effacement. Some artists literally peel away at themselves, most especially their own flaws, just so they could display it for the whole world to see.
Politicians, on the other hand, live off their skill of sugarcoating their images and covering up their flaws just to appeal to everybody in their respective countries. Politicians are the ultimate sell-outs. That's why we hate them. Fine, we need them to run this country but we all know that here in the Philippines, politicians are usually the ones who run this country right to the ground, or as my friend Sofia Tejada calls it, "the pig sty."
But Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo is not just any ordinary politician. She is widely known for taking lying and corruption to a whole new level. From the time she stole the presidency from Fernando Poe Jr., to the fertilizer scam, to the ZTE scandal, and all the other ways she has disgraced this country, she is hardly a credible person to pick artists who should be commended.
I remember that during my time in the Varsitarian, the official school paper of the University of Sto. Tomas, we would look at the applications of aspiring new writers. We would see countless applications with "PGMA Journalism Awards." To this, we would laugh our faces off!
Journalism, as a media art and profession, is also about TRUTH and HONESTY. To be associated with the name of a distinguished liar who has a penchant for bad boob jobs is to taint your penchant for the truth. If you were truly serious about journalism and writing, you wouldn't even dare put that laughable parody of an award in your application form.
GMA is really digging her own grave before her time in the president's seat ends, isn't she? I pray for that day to come soon. I'm sure there's already a cage in the lowest pits of hell waiting for her and her lousy attempt at artistry.
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| Who knew Mother nature was a fan of the metric system? |
[26 Jul 2009|06:58pm] |
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Let's Groove Tonight- Earth, Wind, and Fire |
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Most of us have already read the news about New Zealand and Australia moving closer together because of a massive earthquake.
The gap between the two countries has been reduced by 30 centimeters, or 12 inches according to the English measuring system. That's the length of a regular ruler!
Of course, there probably wouldn't be any visible difference with regard to the distance between the two countries. But hey, if anything, this probably gives more weight to the Pangaea theory where the shifting of land makes way for the creation of new countries!
The reason why I'm somewhat enlightened by this news lies in its being proof that the world is always changing. It doesn't matter if our naked eyes wouldn't be able to tell the difference. The fact is, there will always be something new to discover about the world. In a lot of ways, we are no longer living in the world that generations before us have lived in. We are not just following the templates of the lives that they once led.
I think that a lot of us have been misled by the assumption that everything about this earth has already been discovered and studied. According to many information experts, everything under the sun has already been probed and conquered by the people who lived in this planet way before we were born.
Even literature is not spared from this "information saturation." Most workshop panelists I've encountered over the years always assert that form is more important than content because "there is no more new content to be explored." According to them, the only thing we can do is to innovate what has already been done by those who came here before us.
They fail to realize that the world, including its people, is always changing, shifting, and evolving every day. What's more is that this planet isn't even all there is to life! Hello, have you looked at the night sky lately? Has anyone of us recently considered that maybe there's more to discover outside our home planet---more worlds to conquer, more struggles to undergo, and more human lessons to learn?
To put this thought in a more relevant light, isn't it possible that maybe there's more to life than the ones we are leading respectively right now? Maybe we're meant for more than this standardized education, monotonous employment, economic development, and all the other things that we have been taught to believe are the most important ones to consider as we go through life.
All of us can learn from the two countries which have just moved closer together by 30 centimeters. Seemingly immovable masses of land have just disproven countless of maps, books, and brochures written by those who once measured the distance and concluded that it would always stay that way. It took an earthquake of massive intensity for that to happen.
We, on the other hand, have legs that can go for miles and free will that can determine our own direction. What exactly is stopping us?
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Two of my poems will be published in a future issue of Philippine Graphic! The titles of the poems are "Cycle of Conflict" and "Receding Orbit."
I'm happy that my literary works will be published in a national publication again, and in the same magazine! Last time, my poem "Becoming" was published in the May 2008 issue of Graphic.
I'll write an update once the issue comes out! Thank You Lord for the inspiration! ^__________^
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| "Heal the world," the late king of pop once said. |
[26 Jun 2009|12:49pm] |
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"Heal the World" by Michael Jackson |
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 The first and most significant Michael Jackson song I can remember is "Heal the World."
Back when I was in grade 2, it was one of the songs that our batch in San Beda Alabang choreographed during our first Holy Communion. We would approach the altar one section at a time during practice sessions and carry out the dance our Christian Values Education teacher would show us. With an open palm, we raised our respective right hands until our arms were stretched during the line, "Heal the world," and pulled our hands down in, "make it a better place."
I remember being touched by the music video of the song that showed images of war-torn countries, starving children, and men dying on the streets. Although none of us from our batch had any real chance to change the world significantly at the time, the song fueled our innocent idealism. It didn't matter whether we needed to earn a living first or to understand politics and international relations for us to actually help those people we saw in the music video. We just wanted to help. At least, we felt we wanted to help.
Since then, Jackson had been involved in a lot of controversies---from his constant insistence on changing his appearance (to the point that people were already calling him a freak and he had to wear a mask to cover his face) to the allegations about child molestation, and so on. He seemed to have turned into the least credible person to turn to when it came to changing the world for the better. I'm not sure the song would have had the same effect on me if he had sung it last year as when I first heard it back when I was about to take my first communion.
I also wasn't that much of a fan of his other pop songs, especially the dance ones that had everybody emulating his signature "moonwalk."
Still, Michael Jackson's sudden death got me thinking: is the world a better place since 17 years ago, when he first released that single? Because I honestly have no idea. I didn't read newspapers or watch news reports back in the early '90s. I was less than ten years old at the time.
But looking around and reading some news reports nowadays, all I see in headlines are political clashes, wars against terrorism, squabbles about constitutional change, men being arrested for not wearing "the proper attire," and other such depressing news that one doesn't really want to start his day with.
Is the world a better place? Then again, I guess the better question would be, "Can we make the world a better place?"
As a person who just recently graduated, I admit that my concerns have been a little self-centered lately. Immediately after graduation, I indulged in out-of-town vacations and metropolitan trips with my friends. When I wasn't out there enjoying myself, I was in my room blogging about it. And now, my latest concern involves finding a job and earning a living for myself. Everything I've been doing lately has been for myself.
Maybe it's time for me and others like me to look outward and see how we can make better and less depressing headlines.
 I'd be lying if I said I knew how to do it. I wish I could come up with instant solutions right now and pick off each of the world's problems one by one. World hunger, wars, unemployment, increasing depression and suicide rates, you name it. If there were such a thing as a figurative sickle, I'd chop off their problematic heads and use them as fertilizer for "a better world."
But at least now, I can say that I am feeling that feeling I had back when I first heard the song we sang during our first communion. Perhaps that is the perfect place to start if we truly want to make a difference. I pray that once we find the job we are looking for, we would be able to help more.
Like the song "Heal the World" states, "There are ways to get there if you care enough."
To Michael Jackson, thank you for composing such a wonderful song. We truly hope that you are in a better place!
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| Take the wheel! |
[22 Jun 2009|11:24pm] |
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"Overdrive" by Eraserheads; "Drive" by Incubus |
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When a person dreams of getting a car, he doesn't dream of driving in the city under the scalding heat of the sun in the middle of the day. He doesn't dream of waiting 10 minutes in one spot in the highway, waiting for the other cars in front of him to move an inch, only to make him wait another 10 minutes for another inch of progress in the road.
When a person dreams of getting a car, he dreams of the open road out of town, on his way to some great vacation spot. He might imagine himself driving up the slopes towards Baguio City, or farther north to the beaches of Zambales, or even to Cagayan where he could see the crashing waves of the South China sea.
Nope, he doesn't think of getting stuck in rush-hour traffic on his way to work. "Overdrive" by the Eraserheads certainly does not mention going through the daily motions of having to drive back and forth from city to city, bored out of your wits and wishing desperately that you would just get to your destination already. What "Overdrive" makes you feel as you listen to Ely Buendia singing the lines "Magda-drive ako habang buhay (I'm gonna drive forever)" is that you're gonna love driving forever once you get started.
But all you need to do is to look around you as you make your way through the different roads of the metropolis for you to discover otherwise.
I spent the first two decades of my life refusing to drive. I may have taken driving lessons three years ago (mostly because my mom insisted that I take them) but learning how to manipulate a car did not automatically instill in me the desire of getting a car and driving around somewhere, wherever that "somewhere" turned out to be. I found it too bothersome and was happy with being fetched and driven by my father or our driver whenever I needed to go places.
It's not that I did not want to drive eventually; it's just that it wasn't that important to me at the time. I always found the whole "I want to get a car, drive and go places" thing so overrated. Most of the time, I viewed people my age who wanted and had a car during their student life as show-offs who just used automobiles as a way of climbing up the social ladder---a cliche if ever I saw one. Most of the time, I was right.
And as much as I should be embarrassed to say this, I actually only learned to use public transportation three years ago. And I was fine with it. I figured it would be much more fun to ride buses, jeeps, and cabs so I could enjoy the scenery outside rather than toil with gears, brakes, and wheels whenever I was on the road.
My greatest trade off regarding cars and driving came last year when my mom offered to buy me a car as a graduation gift. Since it was my last year in UST and in my apartment, I figured I needed a shelter away from home more that I needed convenient transportation. So I convinced my mom to buy me a condominium unit in Makati instead. Her face suddenly lit up at my proposal because buying real-estate provided more investment opportunities than buying cars (In a nutshell: real-estate appreciates, cars depreciate). So here I am a year later, enjoying semi-independent life in Makati, away from the prying eyes of my beloved family. I will never regret that decision.
But my brother chose differently when it was his turn to get his reward after finsihing his pre-med in La Salle. He chose the car---a sparkling apple-red Honda City sedan, to be exact. Call me an envious, petty sibling but that's when something changed in me. Suddenly, I found myself wanting a car as well!
I began noticing the flaws of public transportation here in our country. Drivers--be it bus drivers, jeepney drivers, or taxi drivers-- are rude, not to mention unwilling to give you the exact change. Most of the time, you have to haggle with taxi drivers who usually end up shaking their heads and closing their car windows to your face in refusal when they don't like your destination because "there's too much traffic there." You would think that they'd get over the traffic business since it's their job to maneuver their way through traffic every day!
Conductors practically shout at your ears when they're trying to fill the vehicles with passengers or when they're asking for your fare. And railroad transits might be fast and regular but you can forget about getting a decent seat, or breathing space for that matter. There are times when I can't even reach down my pocket to get my cellphone because some guy's ass is blocking the way!
So I recently began paying attention to cars whenever I was on the road. Thanks to my Aunt Aida who works in BMW, I also learned the difference between a sedan and a wagon-type, a two-wheel drive and a four-wheel drive, a manual and an automatic---things I couldn't care less about half a year ago.
I began to dream. Wide open roads started to become part of my daily rumination. I pictured myself driving my friends to Mt. Mayon, or even to the nearest rural spot like Tagaytay. "Overdrive" by Eraserheads got played more often in my iPod. Even my attitude changed.
So what if 60% of driving life consists of grey and congested roads in the city, with rude drivers who wouldn't miss the chance to overtake you? At least then, you'd be in control. You wouldn't have to deal with cab drivers who coerce you into paying more than what the meter showed. You wouldn't have to go on unwanted detours from station to station just so you could get to your destination. You could just go straight there yourself. No negotiations. Less conflict. And ultimately, more fun!
Gasoline prices might be a challenge to deal with but hey, you gotta pay a price for any form of independence, right? And why worry about traffic when it's just part of everyday life (though I might eat my words later on when I actually get a car. hehe)? All you need to do is look at the old, wrinkled, and bitter taxi drivers in Manila to realize that excessive worrying about traffic won't get you anywhere good.
It's no different from being afraid of applying for work because of the stress and responsibility it entails. But if you don't work, then you're forever dependent on your parents for support. And as much as we'd like to deny this, whoever supports you financially ultimately gets a big say in your direction in life, no different from the cab drivers you have to haggle with as a perpetual passenger.
So here I am, admitting to the world that I now want a car!
I am now taking the wheel, metaphorically at least. Tomorrow, I seriously start job-hunting with Sam and Joseinne.
In literal terms, I will have that dream car soon. I don't know how and when, but soon, I will drive on those wide open roads, with Incubus' "Drive" playing in the background. By then, "Overdrive" would be inappropriate because the song is about a person who just dreams of learning how to drive. By then, I wouldn't have to dream about driving anymore.
I'd be out there, conquering the road with my brand-new, blue Honda Jazz car! Hahaha!
P.S. 'Cause I prefer compact wagons over sedans. =)
My dream car:
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| The redemption of Meredith Grey |
[16 Jun 2009|06:31pm] |
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"Keep me warm" by Ida Maria |
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 Meredith Grey is one of the weirdest characters I've ever watched on television.
For one, fans of Grey's Anatomy always seem to react in two opposite extremes when it comes to her character: it's either they love her to bits or they hate her with a fiery vengeance. I am one of those fans who fluctuate between those two extremes.
I personally like her sometimes because I relate with her dark family issues, especially the ones concerning her mother (Dude, her own mother called her "nothing more than ordinary"). I'm also a fan of her long and empowered speeches. Who can forget the "You don't get to call me a whore" speech she gave Derek on the stairs back in season 2, or the "You happened to me" rant she gave her mother in season 3?
On the other hand, the reason why people hate her so much can usually be found among the following reasons:
1) She started out as a "Mary Sue" character.
-> By this I mean that her character was too sought after by everybody else. Did you notice in season 1 that everybody wanted to be with her, or at least sleep with her? There's Derek Sheperd, the supposedly perfect neurosurgeon who couldn't get enough of her since episode 1. Then there's George O'Malley who fell in love with her since the day they had that pre-internship party at the hospital. Even Alex Karev called Meredith "hot" when he was asking George if she was seeing anyone. Everybody in the show liked her, which gave way to everybody else in the show's fanbase hating her.
2) She whines a lot. Seriously.
-> She is such a self-centered character. She complains about everything, from people showing each other too much affection to her dysfunctional family and friends, to her hot boyfriend, to the chief of surgery, to the patients...everything! There was even an episode in season 4 where two ambulances hit each other and she had to give the bad news to the loved one of the ambulance driver. Instead of being concerned for the patient, she told the chief of surgery, "That woman will always remember ME as the one who gave her bad news." She was more concerned over the effect of the accident on her image than the welfare of the victims of the accident!
The episode in season 1 where she was looking for roommates also demonstrated this major flaw. As she was interviewing prospects, she was judging them on the basis of the bands that they liked. Was it an interesting character quirk or was she just being plainly stuck-up, or in Filipino terms, maarte?
3) She is too ordinary.
-> It is sometimes hard to determine why she is the main character of Grey's Anatomy, or why everybody in the show likes her to begin with. As Sam Medenilla, my colleague from the Varsitarian, said, "She easily gets overshadowed by the other characters of the show."
She's not that goodlooking. Izzie Stevens trumps her when it comes to the hot babe scale.
She's not that good in medicine. Cristina Yang, her best friend in the show, is the perfect medical student who memorizes everything to the last detail and who really knows what she wants when she finally finishes her residency.
She's not that kind or compassionate. George O'Malley had to recover from the time Meredith slept with him out of self-pity. She started crying while they were doing it and even told him, "You're almost done, right?"
In fact, there are a lot of reviewers and bloggers who say that her character is too flawed. An article in the website "The Hathor Legacy: the search for good female characters" states that the audience is forced to like someone who is childish and bratty because her personality is wrongly portrayed as "a goddess" in the show. Although main characters often make mistakes, Meredith almost never apologizes for any of her own. The other characters are constantly the ones who adjust to her.  Too close to the makerNow, I have my own thoughts on why Meredith's character, especially in the earlier seasons of the show, is so messy and unrelatable. It's mostly because Shonda Rhimes, the creator of Grey's Anatomy, based Meredith's character on her own personality. In fact, Shonda admitted that among the core characters of Grey's, Meredith is the one who is most like her. ( http://www.wga.org/writtenby/writtenbysub.aspx?id=883 ). This includes the supposedly "cool" aversion to emotional expression and intimacy (other writers of the show said Rhimes could barely stand the candle-light trailer scene in the season 4 finale and the proposal scene in season 5). So in reality, we are actually watching a real person's personality and are being forced to relate to her. But the thing about characterization is that even though fictional characters are based on real persons, most of them are still anchored on a certain ideal that makes them relatable to the audience. It's a different case in Grey's. In my opinion, Shonda is somehow forcing her own personality on the audience through Meredith. She even picked an actress who was the same age as her: Ellen Pompeo is 39 years old, Rhimes is 39 years old. In other words, she is too in love with Meredith's character, who is based on her own quirks in life, to let the latter evolve on her own. Some of you may ask, "But isn't that the writer's job? Wouldn't Meredith cease to exist if the writer isn't there to create and manipulate her?" The answer to that is both "yes" and one big "NO." Although there is some truth in the thought that it is because of the writer that a character exists, there comes a point in the story that characters come to their own and establish their fictional personalities. At that point, writers write according to the character's established psyche, not their thoughts on how the character should be. I know that sounds confusing but that's the way believable characters are made. The new Meredith
However, something happened in the latter seasons of Grey's that had me believing and actually liking Meredith again: she got well. In her own words, she got "all whole and healed."
Even though Rhimes was not a fan of the concept of therapy, she decided to have Meredith undergo therapy sessions during the second half of season 4. Finally, we saw Meredith resolve her personal issues about her mom, dad, and her inability to commit.
She faced her mom's suicide attempt and its connection with her mom's infidelity. She also realized that her mom, who constantly told her how "ordinary" she was, actually wanted her to be extraordinary when it came to love. Her mom was not the greatest communicator but she also got over that...finally!
At the end of season 4, she realized that her purpose was to become extraordinary. So she ran towards Derek, admitted her feelings, and started her life as the whole and healed Meredith of season five. Since then, there have been lots of improvements in her character.  1) She no longer whines that much. She even asserted to her European friend Sadie in season 5, episode 16, that she wanted to be where she was at that moment, working as a resident at Seattle Grace and with the love of her life. She told Sadie that she wasn't "25, sleeping around Europe anymore." She wanted "to be here." 2) She's been quite the supportive girlfriend, especially when Derek botched a major surgery in episode 16 and had to face a lot of trials after that. She endured being mistreated by Derek (the guy even threw her engagement ring to the woods!) and has been the key towards his return to the hospital. Although she held out on her "yes" to Derek's proposal until after Izzie's brain surgery, it was only appropriate to do so because the moment had to be perfect. She shouldn't say yes to a proposal for the sake of Derek's ego. She had to say "yes" to the man she loved, who should be as whole and healed as she was. Five seasons of Grey's owed us at least that much! 3) She actually has been the most stable and focused character for the second half of season 5. Izzie was all around the place because of her cancer, George was not around that much this season, Cristina fell for and couldn't let go of Owen Hunt (an army doctor guy who was suffering from post traumatic stress disorder), and Alex just broke down and was lashing out at everyone when he found out Izzie was sick. Through it all, Meredith has been the one comforting, stabilizing, and helping everybody else. When Alex was lashing out because of Izzie's sickness, she just sat there and listened to him, reassuring him through the breakdown. She was also the one who gave Izzie's scans to Derek, the one man who could save Izzie's life. When Owen choked Cristina when they were sleeping, she stood in front of Owen, protecting Cristina from possible harm. 4) Personally, I liked the finale of season 5 when she told Cristina that she wanted to get married with Derek because she wanted the people that she loved to know that she loved them. "I love you Cristina Yang," she said to Cristina. During the early seasons of Grey's, she had been the one with all the problems and whom everybody else compensated for. Now, the tables have turned. Meredith Grey has been redeemed! But being redeemed does not equate to being deserving of exaltation. She still suffers from some serious character flaws---possibly remnants of her earlier self. For example, when she says things like "I'm afraid of getting my happy ending," I just want to slap her silly and say, "What the heck is wrong with you, woman?" But those quirks have become forgivable, at least for now. Hopefully, Meredith continues to improve next season so that she can finally prove why she's the star of the show to begin with. Seriously. |
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| I really should be... |
[14 Jun 2009|01:57am] |
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"Keep me warm" by Ida Maria |
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...asleep right now. But that afternoon nap gave me an unnecessary boost of energy for the night. Hence, the wide-eyed midnight wakefulness. Stupid nap. So here I am, watching the last scene of the season 4 finale of Grey's Anatomy. I don't know if it's the night taking toll on my taste for television but I find my knees weakening over Meredith's lines as she stands in the middle of Derek's candle-lit property in Seattle as Ida Maria's "Keep Me Warm" plays in the background. "I got all whole and healed. I believe that we can be extraordinary together rather than be ordinary apart," she says, right before Derek moves in and kisses her to shut her up in the best way.
It's so out of character for the dark and twisted Meredith. But I guess that's the point. For her to be happy, she needed to get over herself so she can let somebody else in before it was too late. Now, I'm just imagining myself in her shoes, all whole and healed---on her way towards happiness, and with the perfect background song just playing there. I wish some catchy independent pop/rock songs would play during decisive moments of my day. It would definitely make life more interesting. :P
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| Yes to Zambales! |
[08 Jun 2009|06:53pm] |
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Champagne Supernova: by Oasis |
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The initial idea was to go to Mt. Pinatubo in Pampanga and hike across its rocky terrain while singing to the tune of Imago's "Sundo."
I had this image of myself standing on top of a giant grey boulder and internalizing the lyrics of the song that I always listened to, especially during extended bus rides on the way home.
"Handa na sa liwanag mo/ Maghihintay sa'yong sundo," I would sing.
Unfortunately, the Air Force of the Philippines decided to conduct some sort of activity in Pinatubo (which I have yet to figure out) so we had to postpone our hike for another time. Stupid Air Force.
This led us to plan our trip towards a place even farther north: the beaches of Zambales. (May 23-25)
I met with Tin Dabbay and her UST Fine Arts friends at Galleria Suites in P. Noval at 4 in the morning last May 23. Talk about being an early bird, considering that I usually get up at around 11. There, Tin introduced me to Dimple (the owner of the unit in Galleria), Elaine (whom I had already met in the Varsitarian office last year), and Hazel. Apparently, they had decided to pass the night by talking about the Hayden-Katrina scandal and searching for the videos in the internet. It was my first dose of Kholili for the day. Haha!
We left Manila at around six and spent the next three hours falling to and rousing from sleep at the back of the bus. Upon arriving, we took a tricycle ride to the beach proper where we would look for a resort that would accommodate us for the night. There, we would realize our grave mistake: we did not make any reservations.
We had assumed that finding a place to stay in wouldn't be a problem because Zambales was a fairly undeveloped province, as compared to other beaches like Boracay and Puerto Galera. We were right, of course, but other people seemed to know that as well. A throng of people immediately greeted us when we arrived at the beach and every resort seemed to have already been fully booked.
The five of us walked around in semi-panic as we traversed the area in search of a decent place to spend the night in. Fortunately, a savior came to redeem us in the form of "Ate Jologs." Seriously, that's her name!
We met her at Wild Rose resort, which was also fully booked. A tall, very dark, and thin woman suddenly approached us, introduced herself, and asked if we were tourists. Hazel and Dimple had to stifle their laugh when she said her name was "Jologs," (which is a term used for uneducated and rowdy squatters). I raised an eyebrow myself but I stepped forward and talked to her anyway.
After we told her our problem, she immediately took her cellphone out and called the nearby places for available rooms.
"Punta kayo dun sa Luxury Villa! Sabihin niyo si Ate Jologs nagpadala sa inyo (Go to Luxury Villa. Tell them Ate Jologs sent you)!" she said as she enthusiastically pointed towards the villa. And just like that, we were saved. An eternal supply of thanks, Ate Jologs!
The villa we stayed in was luxurious, indeed! The air-conditioned room was spacious (regardless of the lack of a window), there were two major living rooms, and the bathroom even had a jacuzzi and a bidet. Not bad for a supposedly undeveloped province!
Luxury Villa is actually owned by a Canadian and his Filipino wife. The Canadian dreamed of retiring by the beach in a tropical island so he built a 2-storey beach
house in Zambales. During times when he is not in the country, his wife's relatives are placed in charge of the villa and they were given the permission to use it as a resort.
After unpacking, we instantly changed into our swim wear and walked to the beach for some island hopping. Camara island was our first destination.
Camara was perfect for single travelers or small groups. Smooth stones and big rocks dominated the surface of the small islet and the sea water lay perfectly still, making it conducive for walking and silent contemplation. Late in the afternoon would be the perfect time to go to Camara, thanks to the wonderful effect of the sunset on its rocks. I had my moment after all, only instead of Imago's "Sundo" playing in my head, "Champagne Supernova" by Oasis reverberated in my consciousness.
I spent most of the time at Camara away from the rest of the group, who were all busy taking nature shots. I deliberately did not take my camera because I knew the fine arts peepz would bring their respective Digital SLR's. That meant I could enjoy the experience with minimal luggage because everybody else would be taking my pictures! Wahehe!
Capones island was entirely different from Camara. If Camara was perfect for relaxing and thinking, Capones was the place for extreme physical activities. We even had to cross the rocky shores of the island by foot since the boat would be crushed if it went any nearer.
The waves in Capones were constant reminders that the sea could smother and consume you in a mere second. Forget about lying still on the beach and letting the water wash away your troubles. The water might just literally end your troubles in the worst way, if you're not careful.
There was a group of Koreans on the beach who were busy performing some unknown sport. I think it was their own version of Marco Polo. Dimple automatically squealed at the site of a cute Korean female toddler and took out her camera to take pictures of the child.
Meanwhile, Hazel and I faced the cameras of Tin and Elaine as we posed like there was no tomorrow in our own version of Century Tuna's "Superbods." I adequately named our session the "555 Tuna Sexy Shots!" Hahaha!
Elaine and I also acted out a scene from Titanic as we looked towards the sea with our hands held high, like Jack and Rose did in the movie.
I really enjoyed the ride back to the villa. We made a lot of splashes and the water was constantly hitting our faces. Tin and the others didn't enjoy it but I actually had fun getting wet from the ride. Hehe!
When we got back to the villa, Hans was already waiting for us. He was also part of Tin's group but he had to come later than the rest because he had to convince his parents to allow him to go to Zambales. That night, we were so hungry that we ate dinner twice!
Hazel and I promptly fell asleep at around ten at night while Tin, Dimple, Elaine, and Hanz made a bonfire and drank alcohol by the seashore. I wanted to join the bonfire but my body still had not recovered from waking up too early. The bonfire team finally came to the room at around 5 in the morning.
I woke up at 6 am and discovered that the rest of them were still sleeping soundly. After taking a bath, I strolled along the beach and had a burger and egg sandwich for breakfast.
When the fine arts team woke up at around 9, we prepared to go to the main attraction of Zambales---Anawangin island.
The boat ride to Anawangin took a lot more time than the ones we took to Camara and Capones. I think we spent almost 20 to 30 minutes on the boat. Along the way, we passed by the breathtaking green mountains of Zambales, which Tin dubbed as "the 'Mordor' of the Philippines." (from Lord of the Rings)
Anawangin was unlike any beach I've been to before. From afar, one would immediately see the cluster of pine trees that line the soft gold-colored ground of the island. I was convinced we had passed an inter-dimensional portal along the way and ended up in Baguio instead!
Although Anawangin was undoubtedly the biggest among the islands of Zambales, commercial construction was impossible. The soft ground of the island prevented anyone from building anything that would not fall over in a week's time---which was a good thing since it would always stay the way it is and resist the negative changes of industrial development.
The only way to spend the night at Anawangin is by camping, which explained the vendors who were selling tents and hammocks for affordable prices. Our group first ate lunch and lazed around under the pine trees before we trekked towards the Anawangin river.
I have to say, arriving at the Anawangin river was the peak of my Zambales experience! The water was cold, clean, clear, and ankle-deep. Gold-colored stones filled the base of the river, inviting us to walk across and spend some Zen time in the shallow flowing water. The best part was that we had it all to ourselves!
Dimple found a heart-shaped rock that embodied what I was feeling at the moment: euphoric and connected. I couldn't help but smile as we followed the flow of the river, occasionally sitting down and letting ourselves bask in the transparency of the substance that comprise 70 per cent of our body weight.
Tin and I took turns taking vanity shots of each other with her camera. With her flowing skirt that had blue flower designs, she looked like a river nymph who was looking for somebody to play with.
What creeped us out was the sudden gust of wind that permeated the air and made tiny ripples in the water. It made a strange howling sound as it passed by the pine trees, like a scene from a horror movie just before a deranged psycho-maniac comes out of the woods and impale the innocent hikers with his cleaver. That was our cue to go back to the beach hurriedly and join the rest of civilization.
After arriving back to the mainland, we hiked towards the mineral falls with the teenage JD as our guide. At the risk of sounding redundant, the mineral falls was full of...minerals. Seriously, the water was brown with what looked like a concentrated mixture of ground rocks. Dipping in it felt like I was in a spa. It was great! It was my first time to swim in a natural body of fresh water.
Hans and Elaine took turns jumping towards the pool from the top of the falls. Kudos to them for braving the height!
Our last official beach activity was actually swimming on the beach. There, we met Gavin, a loquacious American man who was planning to build a resort in Zambales. He promised to give us discounts if ever we come back there next year. Hmm... I might just hold him to that. Haha!
After sunset, we left to Manila after having our dinner. We realized our second grave mistake after waiting for about three hours at the bus stop: we left the resort at too late a time. There were no more buses that would take us to Manila! The next bus would come by in the morning.
In another streak of panic, we asked a couple of tricycle drivers to take us to a cheap inn where we could wait until morning. I think they took us too literally since we ended up in a REALLY cheap motel called "Sampaguita Inn." Just a glance of the room made me think, "So this is where scandals are made."
Tin was scratching her head in exasperation since she couldn't sleep because of the lack of space on the bed. In the middle of the night, she would nudge my leg and whisper, "Move." But I really had no place to move to. If I did, I might have crushed Hazel with my weight. Haha! (Yes folks. The five of us, minus Hans who slept on the floor, slept on the same bed.)
Finally, we were able to go home to Manila in the morning by going to Olongapo and taking a bus to Sampaloc! So endeth our two-day turned three-day trip to Zambales!
Although it ended in a weird and semi-compromising note, I'm glad I said yes to Tin's invite. The old Raydon might have turned it down out of self-consciousness due to the prerequisite of travelling with strangers. But I'm saying yes to life now, especially because of my dream to travel the world.
Thank you Fine Arts peepz! I had fun! Haha!
Next stop, Pinatubo!
For the rest of the pics, go here: http://solarlantern.multiply.com/photos/album/8/Yes_to_Zambales#
Thank you Tin, Elaine, Hazel, Dimple,and Hans for the pics!
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| How to pronounce AH1N1 |
[31 May 2009|06:24pm] |
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music |
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Breathe in, Breathe Out: Matt Kearney |
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Ahini!
My aunt and I were having peppermint tea at the lobby of Royal Hotel, Macau, two weeks ago when she shared to me the front page headline of a major newspaper in Macau. A Filipino family had been quarantined in their hotel because they were suspected of having the Mexican virus. Apparently, every one of them---the father, the mother, and the children---had contracted some kind of flu virus which eventually turned out to not be related with any farm animal. It was just a normal flu.
The two of us found it a little difficult to talk about the news because mentioning swine flu in any way would immediately get you a lot of weird stares from people in the vicinity. Even just wearing a mask to protect yourself would get you a lot of odd looks, like what happened to us in the airport in Hong Kong when we arrived wearing masks and the rowdy white Americans in front of us were making fun of the masked people. One of them even parallelized swine flu to sperm, which I didn't get at all.
I guess being "a natural born English speaker" does not automatically give you the ability to use metaphors.
Another instance was when we were sitting in the Macau airport and my fellow Filipinos who were sitting beside me suddenly started talking loudly about swine flu when they saw me put my mask on.
"Actually, ang OA nga eh! 'Di ba mas nakakamatay pa nga raw ang ordinary flu?" the relatively old woman on my left said.
"Oo nga eh," another woman, who looked like her chimay, replied.
"Ewan ko ba sa mga tao. Depende lang naman 'yan kung gaano kalakas ang resistensya mo noh!" the first woman practically shouted as she glanced towards my direction.
Why is it that any mixture of arrogance and ignorance always results in people talking loudly?
Anyway, my aunt shared to me her personal way of pronouncing the swine flu virus that would get us less attention.
"Ahini!" she said.
I broke out into laughter afterwards. It sounded like a girly sneeze, which would actually be suitable since the virus is airborne.
"Ahini!" I gave my aunt the thumbs up.
Say it with me, Ahini! Let's remember to always take our vitamins, to eat and sleep well, to wash our hands regularly and use hand sanitizer when water is not available, and to make light fun of this flu until it subsides and goes away for good.
(^____^)V Ahini!
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| Inertia |
[30 May 2009|08:51pm] |
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music |
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Sugar Water by Cibo Matto |
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There are days when you just want to shut yourself off from the rest of the world and say, "World, I don't feel like giving in to your usual shit today. Take it somewhere else---where people don't appreciate it but will swallow it all up anyway."
This is one of those days.
Seriously though, this is the first day I've had to myself all month. I have been travelling and meeting up with friends and family for the past three-plus weeks and though I appreciate the different perspectives I've been gaining because of my semi-random, semi-planned voyages, I gotta say they made me appreciate being able to drop everything I have and give in to the seductive pull of my queen sized, traditional Japanese-style bed.
And stay in bed was exactly what I did all day. Although I did start the morning by having breakfast with Phoebe (a high school friend who works a few blocks from my place), I spent every minute after that in solitary and sedentary mode. Hello sweet solitude. How I missed you!
I'm beginning to understand the rationale behind weekends. Even though the Bible only states Sunday as being the true rest day, I think it's wise to have another one that precedes that. The thing about Sunday is that it's commonly dubbed the "family day." Usually, Sunday would be the day when the family goes to church, eats outside, goes on a road trip to a nearby vacation spot like Tagaytay, and comes back home as tired as the members were before the weekend started. No one would really have rested by then.
But where do we squeeze in some solo time? For me, all it takes is one Saturday out of the rest of the month.
The three other Saturdays you can spend with your different friends. You can meet up with your high school friends for some reminiscing, spend another Saturday with your org mates, and take up another one with your alternative friends (whom I define as the ones whom you'd occasionally meet with for some excitement but wouldn't want to hang out with on a daily basis).
But that remaining Saturday, you spend with and on yourself. In my case, that means locking up the door of my condominium unit, taking off all my clothes, and collapsing on the bed. Any activity that follows would be a bonus of sorts: I could read a book, watch my DVDs, browse the internet all day, write in my journal, or do all and even none of those things.
Of course, where would a perfect rest day be without good food in large amounts? It's good that there are many restaurants that line the adjacent street of our building. I have free pick over which kind of meal I want to take: Filipino food at Barrio Fiesta, Japanese at Saitama Ken, perpetual breakfast at Pancake House, Chinese at Chow King, and American chicken at KFC. Prawn crackers, instant oatmeal, and double dutch ice cream have also become regulars in my food shelves and refrigerator. Thank you to my very active metabolism for preventing me from suffering the consequences of my pigging out.
Sometimes, I just want to stop and take it all in---the food, the drinks, the air-conditioned air, the thoughts that have constipated the various curves of my brain---everything. It's no different from having to stop your car, cleaning and waxing it, filling the tank with fuel, and replacing its battery.
This is definitely better than my original plan: to go to the schoolpaper office and watch some of my magazine writers refrain from writing, or hear people talk incessantly about the Hayden Kho sex and drug scandal. (Matamaan ang kailangang matamaan. Hehehe!)
Someday, maybe I'd be able to know how sharing this alone time with someone else would be like. Hello, oxymoron! (Hehe...) Perhaps it would be more pleasant, not to mention healthier for my gustation. Who knows?
But for now, this is the life! Aaaaaahhhhhh... *drops to the bed, naked*
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| Sometimes, it just hits you... |
[22 May 2009|03:40pm] |
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music |
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Sweet Child of Mine |
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...repeatedly. "You did the right thing."
I guess that's the thing about our emotional and rational side. When it comes to very vague and yet real things such as matters of the heart, they rarely shake hands and seal the deal.
A lot of times, you feel them waging a war with each other inside your head---like two countries who think their respective causes are worth disrupting everyday living because they both want to prove a point.
But there are also rare instances when they seem to blend together. It just hits you at the weirdest of times...
...when you're taking a bath,
...when you're staring off into the minute space inside your room,
...when you're walking towards the bus terminal,
...when you're looking at the city lights of a foreign country,
...when you're drinking and making a fool out of yourself in front of your friends.
Of course, it also helps when a lot of people who are close to you also reaffirm you about your decision. It makes you feel a whole lot better when they say they wouldn't have it any other way, even if they were the ones who had to make that choice.
Most especially, it helps when they say they'd butt you in the head if you did otherwise.
"Capital T" (tanga) nga, sabi ni Ana. Hahaha!
So to the one who told me I smelled like pillows: everything's good, well, and cool. I don't regret anything now. Just keep on bouncing, like you always do. And I shall do the same...soon. :)
---End of ambiguous post. :)
You bounce, I shatter
by Raydon L. Reyes
I don't bounce back
after falling. I crash
into tiny pieces
of glass.
You always rise up
as you deflect off
concrete and marble---
never once losing
momentum.
But I shatter every time
I touch the ground,
shards scattering and
flying into the distance.
The best I can do
as I watch you spring away
is that I glue back into a shape
that some new hands will carry
and never drop again.
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| Beauty in the breakdown |
[13 May 2009|01:37am] |
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music |
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Let Go: Frou Frou |
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Does life really stop?
For a lot of us, life is a continuous flow that takes up all our time and effort. When we are young, we are exposed to so many changes in the most basic sense. We experience physical development: we grow taller, outgrow our clothes, gain weight, and so on. In school, we actually go a level higher than the previous schoolyear. We take harder subjects and more challenging tasks and this makes it feel like we are on a constant forward motion.
But before we know it, we're through growing up in the literal sense and we've graduated from school--the institution that served as our driving force for two decades of our lives. What happens then? Garden State attempts to give us an answer.
It's the first movie I ever watched with my iPod and I downloaded it three days ago because Zach Braff directed and starred in it. Fans of Scrubs would recognize Braff as the quirky lead of the medical comedy show, Scrubs, and Garden State is his first attempt at directing a film.
I gotta say, for a first attempt, he does more than just a good job! (Readers, take a deep breath for the lengthy and spoiler-ridden summary that follows.)
He plays the role of Andrew Largeman, a 26-year-old actor-cum-waiter in Los Angeles who wakes up from a nightmare about a plane crashing. He is unfazed about this, just as he is about many things because he has been taking psychiatric medication all his life. His father, a psychiatrist, had been prescribing him with a combination of anti-anxiety drugs that basically prevent him from feeling any extreme emotion after Andrew accidentally paralyzes his mother.
Even the news of his mother's death only squeezes a couple of blinks from him as he looks at the two-doored mirror in his bathroom that separates his reflection into two parts--an outright symbol of his being broken.
Upon arriving at New Jersey (which is called "Garden State" by its residents) and going through his mother's funeral, he begins reconnecting with old friends who pretty much ended up as losers who get by with cheap thrills. His grave-digger pal named Mark (Peter Sarsgaard), for example, still lives with his mom, has turned into a small-time thief, and habitually smokes marijuana. He even steals jewelry from dead people.
His other friend, Jess (Armando Riesco), has actually made a fortune by inventing a silent substitute for velco fabric, although he didn't turn out any better either. He habitually holds ecstasy and orgy parties at his mansion where he invites pubescent "legal" girls to have drinking games with him. He is the one who introduces Andrew to ecstasy, a drug that has the complete opposite effect of his anti-anxiety medications which he had left back in Los Angeles.
Everywhere Andrew turns, he sees his world entangled in the mundane. Even his acting stints are just an excuse for him to get away from himself because he "likes to pretend to live the lives of others." Everyone seems to have given up on life and he accepts that without question. That is, until he meets Sam (Natalie Portman), the epileptic girl in the neurologist's office.
Sam is the complete opposite of Andrew. She is talkative, vibrant, emotional, and spontaneous. But she has one major flaw: she is a compulsive liar. She even admits that she lies all the time. A scene that encapsulates Sam's personality is when Andrew is watching a video of Sam during her ice skating days (she stopped because of her epilepsy, even though her mother still believes she can skate with her condition). She is seen wearing a crocodile's outfit as she glides across the ice. Crocodile tears, get it?
As the two spend more time with each other, they gradually neutralize each other's flaws without even noticing it. Before they know it, Andrew is hugging complete strangers with zest and is confronting and sharing his feelings. Sam, on the other hand, lessens her lying streaks and teaches Andrew how to become more spontaneous.
But their true intrapersonal journey begins when Mark invites them on a day-long trip around town. After giving them a tour of the ugly side of their town, such as the motel that has a secret hallway where people can see into the rented rooms, they make it to a great hole in the ground which they call "the infinite abyss."
Mark has a friend living near the abyss and apparently, he had sold Andrew's mother's jewelry to that person. He wanted to make it up to Andrew by giving it back to him. Even losers have some of their humanity intact.
The story reaches its climax when the three of them stare at "the infinite abyss"and shout their hearts out, as if challenging and mocking infinity right to its face. Right then and there, they are given a clean slate at life, even though only Andrew and Sam realize it. (End of summary.)
Now, there's a reason why I spent so many paragraphs on the summary of this movie. It's because I love this movie for its content. The theme of lost people who don't know what else to do in life has been portrayed before, I know, but it's so rare for these other movies to be riddled with the same tasteful optimism that Garden State possesses.
Usually, movies that tackle this theme go for a more pessimistic or "realistic" approach for art's sake. Tragedy, after all, is said to be deeper than happiness.
But in this movie, Andrew and Sam progress into their respective life-changing epiphanies that actually help them start their lives over. Granted that they still have no idea what to do but they want to do whatever ït"is now--together.
"Whatcha waitin'for? No time for later,"" the song "Let Go" at the end of the movie states.
This fim is also far-off from being overly serious as some random bits of comedy still manage to squeeze themselves in the movie. My favorite example is seeing Andrew's pathetic swimming skills as he waddles in the pool like a lost frog. Hehe!
Another thing to note about this film is the music. There are actually some people who praise this movie solely for its soundtrack, which is a pleasant combination of alternative tracks that blend together into an intimate and existential playlist. Like my friend Ayi said, "Let Go" by Frou Frou is love! Seriously! Listen to it!
Image-wise, the film passes with flying colors. It makes me want to go to the United States just to know what spring and autumn looks like in real life.
Natalie Portman was perfect as Sam. I actually couldn't have picked a better actress, myself. And is it me or does she still look like a teenager in this 2004 movie?
But what actually threw me off was Zach Braff. Although he looks good with his bangs on and delivers his lines well, it's hard to take him seriously sometimes because I'm so used to seeing him in situational comedy. Not to mention his seriously hurt face doesn't look serious at all. I was even expecting him to do something Scrubs-like and break out into a dancing spree half-way across the movie.
The film is also too dependent on dialogue. The characters actually tell each other what they learned from their experiences throughout the movie. I don't know if this is because Braff is used to the voice-over contemplation formula that Scrubs utilizes but it's still a pain for the audience to be denied the experience of figuring out the lesson for themselves. Like we've all heard in our creative writing exercises, artists should "show, not tell."
But minor flaws aside, I'm glad Garden State is the first movie I watched with my iPod. It helps to have a reminder that we always have the choice to jumpstart our lives, even when we seem to be caught in a dead end. I myself haven't experienced such despair but watching this film helped me realize that I can deal with it even if it comes.
I recommend this film especially to people in their 20's. Watch this film, listen to the soundtrack, and decide to not stay where you are and to keep on moving forward.
If anything, maybe you'll be comforted with the possibility that everyone else is going through it all, just like you are. 
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| My birthday last May 3: Inner child unleashed |
[10 May 2009|09:24pm] |
My birthday last May 3 was all about reviving that inner child while still moving forward with my life.
I decided to spend my special day with my high school friends. They've been there for me throughout my student life, even though we haven't been seeing each other until after our respective graduation ceremonies. I think our thoughts finally aligned and we all came up with this idea to start bonding again starting this summer.
I decided to be all-out and spend my birthday money on my friends so I treated them to Red Kimono/ Painted Red, Westgate---the fusion restaurant with Japanese and American dishes merged into one menu!
My best friend Racquel and I were the first to arrive and since the others were taking so long, we decided to order the sushi platter and enjoy it without the late-comers. But apparently, the rest of them came late on purpose because they actually baked me some birthday cookies. Awwww. Haha.
Because Martin and Martino couldn't make it, I was the only guy in the group yet again. haha!
We pretty much pigged-out at the restaurant. For dessert, we went straight to Festival Mall for a dose of Dairy Queen. From there, we rode Victoria's car and drove around Alabang and Las-Pinas. (Inggit ako. May kotse na ang friend ko! Sana ako na rin in the near future. Hehehe)
We passed by the supermarket near Ruins and bought drinks. We wanted to spend the rest of the afternoon at the park near our high School, San Beda Alabang.
Going to the park was the perfect way to end the day. We just talked for hours about our present situations, including our respective professional and love lives, and about our plans for the future. After all, post-graduation is the perfect time to plan and jumpstart our future.
All of this we did while riding the swings and sitting nearby the slide. In a way, we reminded ourselves that no matter how much our lives change, we are still the same persons and that we can always go back to the good memories we had established long before "having a purpose in life" mattered to any of us.
So here's to you, blitzkrieg! I couldn't have asked for a better way to level up on the 20's scale. Hehe. Cheers to me, cheers to us! =)
Eto na 'yung PICTURES natin! Just click on the link! Hehehe
http://solarlantern.multiply.com/photos/album/6/My_Birthday_last_May_3_Inner_child_unleashed
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