Sixteen Degrees to Reality

I could say I’m okay, but eight dwarfs haven taken refuge in my head and are determined to dig every inch of it. (I say there are eight, now leave me alone.)

I COULD SAY I’m okay, but not in my normal voice coz nasal is suddenly in.

I could say that I feel absolutely fabulous, but I’ve stopped taking the pills mountains of rice are blocking my vision.

I could say WE’RE okay, but Shineekwa (my stubborn, selfish alter-ego) is not contented with all the effort he’s done for us. (I’m waiting for a b*tchslap here.)

So I take another picture and smile.

NOTE: I am just a ranter, so everything i say is as credible as Conan O’ Brienn predicting a tsunami in the Sahara Desert.

A FEW POINTS TO PONDER

1. Mr. Fruigum* is happy attached to his love so any notes posted on the freedom board asking to be his girl should be thrown out the window.

2. Decades* is not trying to use Mr. Fruitgum for any political reason, though it looks like it. This party felt like they had to make a stand about everything that’s happening right now. Anyway, Mr. Fruigum was once an affiliate of Decades, so hush it. COTTON CANDIES, kahit puro hangin, may halaga pa rin.

3. I love being a junior C.A. student. All the work load is draining everything that is in me, but the results are always rewarding. Even if I have to crawl just to get to school with tape stuck on my eyelids to keep them from shutting, I would. I love to learn. I love the experience. It’s tiring, but fun.

But there is such a thing as overload.

Once you get to your third year, everything starts to get serious. If the first two years of your college life is mainly about books, this will catch you offguard. Productions, documentaries, advocacies, dramas… deadlines within close range (and sometimes the same dates) from each other. Minor subjects are being treated the same way Majors are. (They should change MINOR and MAJOR subjets to just plain subjects.)

One more hell week, and then we can start working on OJT’s.

Whoopdeedoo.

Oh, and all this crap about overloading and time budgeting preparing us for the real world when we get jobs?

I’ll only take one, thanks very much. And not juggle eight other jobs.

* names have been changed to protect their identities.

Right. After wasting hundreds of hours studying my arse off for Political Dynamics only to fail the prelim exams by 0.5%, I’ve come to the conclusion politics just really isn’t my thing.

However, lately, my mouth have unconsciously started pouring out insights about the present administration, the happenings in the streets, and this huge black cloud shadowing over our already pitiful country.

I have no clear idea to what’s going on, but I’m getting a feeling that the worst is yet to happen. I know we all want our lives to be better, but that naive statement added with political juice could create a massive scar on our country.

It’s not even about making a stand and taking this to the streets.

It’s merely about having a stand, and keeping it alive.

It’s getting scary, folks.

Love, love, love.

It is great to finally let your walls down, isn’t it? It’s been more than great with the Maverick, but I’m cautious now, very much so. Valentine’s this was unconventional, celebrating it during lunch, which wasn’t something new. Had coffee at Starbucks, as usual, hung out with Tom and Fatso, and saw Something’s Gotta Give at my house.

Isn’t it a shocker to realize what being close to perfection is?

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Tuesday was the only day I was free, thank God. I think it was the only free day i had since the start of 2006. Each day is spent running around the campus, shooting and tapings everywhere, paperwork, lots of it… It’s… frenetic.

That’s what it is.

I need a massage. Badly.

But that doesn’t fit my schedule right now.

Love, love, love.

It is great to finally let your walls down, isn’t it? It’s been more than great with the Maverick, but I’m cautious now, very much so. Valentine’s this was unconventional, celebrating it during lunch, which wasn’t something new. Had coffee at Starbucks, as usual, hung out with Tom and Fatso, and saw Something’s Gotta Give at my house.

Isn’t it a shocker to realize what being close to perfection is?

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Tuesday was the only day I was free, thank God. I think it was the only free day i had since the start of 2006. Each day is spent running around the campus, shooting and tapings everywhere, paperwork, lots of it… It’s… frenetic.

That’s what it is.

I need a massage. Badly.

But that doesn’t fit my schedule right now.

The day was pretty much wasted.

Waking up almost two hours after your alarm went off, there wasn’t much time to organize your thoughts regarding what and what not to bring.

Resulting therefore, in a wishful thinking of being able to Apparate, instead of walking all over Recto, riding the train, going back home, and back again.

Only to realize that the video editor who made us wait for 2 hours decided to pass his job to his wife, whose job description was unknown, and somehow isn’t trustworthy of the 300 bucks we’re laying on the table.

A switch of slippers, eight isaws, two bottles of C2 and the company of three other drained, heavy-footed girls were what made the day NOT useless.

And the feeling of having some big guy to hold on to, while on the verge of tripping ungracefully on the flat, wet, cement floor.

Not exactly the time of your life.

Your ass is falling all over the sides of the chair and confusion pokes every 108 minutes.

Bother bother bother.

The focal point is there. You walk. Fast. And run.

Breathe.

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Damnit. Everytime I try to write it always ends up with me running away from something.

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HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!!!!!

Right. And now that we’re settled..

1. Stay away from anything that screams "EAT ME, I’M SO YUMMY!". You’ve got to lose your Holiday Handles, trust me.

2. Stop being so insecure.

3. Write again. You’ve been rusty waaayyyyy tooooo loooonnngg.

4. PLAY some more. You’re seriously NOT that busy to bring back your magic~*~ in~*~ music.

5. +PRAY+. It’s been a while since He last heard from you…. Oh and try to go to mass regularly this year.

6. Don’t guffaw laugh at people who trip on the streets. You don’t know how rude you sound.

7. And try not to make a lot of noise when you do the tripping. It’s for your own good.

8. |R|e|a|d| |b|e|t|w|e|e|n| |t|h|e| |l|i|n|e|s|. Applicable not only to literature.

9. Strive, I’m telling you, STRIVE to be responsible in school.

10. Conscience is not something to say "SHUT THE HELL UP" to.

<– This cousin of mine will whoop your arse if you dare take my pictures without permission.

CHEERIO!

PASKUHAN - It was tradition. Thanks to my cousin and my sudden snobbing of time, we didn’t see the fireworks (again). Thanks to all the guys who cancelled at the last minute, it was back to Andy and Me, again. haha. Paskuhan was brief, and the rest of YB were waiting for us ay Mayfield.

That’s me at the far left, after going on a dare to take a plunge in the freezing pool, at 2:00am, in the middle of December, TOPLESS. You get seven girls with brothers Granma, Gin and twins El Hobre, whipped cream, lots of ice and two videocams, what do you get?

We leave it to your imagination. *wink*

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4:00pm used to be always memorable for me. Not because "Ang TV na" (haha), but i was always around that time that me and my cousins would take a break for a day’s worth of playing and eat merienda, and get back to playing again. I don’t think we’d ever sat down and talked about a problem.

Years later we’d be eating on the same table, but without food. Just one red horse grande, iced tea (requested by yours truly) and ciggies… Talking not about life, but of death…

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You’re pretty good, you’ve managed to squeeze some sympathy out of me right after you decided to cross the river Styx. You told her she’d be the one most affected by all this, but, guess you’re not around to enjoy it, eh? Thing is, she’s got all of us to back her up.. Still. I hope God forgives your soul.

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AZZWIPES - Granma and Empoy. Is there really a difference between high school friends and college friends? You drink the same brandy, you laugh the same way, release the same barf. But there’s still this very thin line… and I’ve got a lifetime to search for it… Here’s to hoping we never run out of alcohol. *CHEERS*

A FEW MENTAL NOTES: The smell of cats and alcohol don’t match, just as well as bare skin and granite.

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CHRISTMAS -  This year was the first time our family had a very (and I quote my cousin) "Unconventional Christmas". After 19 years (or so, God knows) of celebrating Noche Buena, Dua-Garcia decided to take a break from late night celebrations and had a luncheon on the Day itself, and Gift-giving. Basically we hung around my place, drove to Starbucks Libis to FINALLY GET MY PLANNER, PEOPLE! haha… And just… went back to hangin’ out. Honestly, it was kind of better… Hmmmmm…

Which brings me here, sitting in front of the computer 22nd hour of Christmas day… I’ve got nothing to show but a knowing smile, and a nod… Pretty good, pretty good.

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ACKNOWLEDGMENTS for my Planner:

1. Daddy

2. Fatso

3. Allan

4. Fred

5. Kuya Baby

6. Ate Debbie

7. Hannah

8. Osh

PS. The pictures are MINE.

Two cries brought me back to the world of the Wake. People were shouting, and the dogs in this house were constantly barking. "CLOSE THE DOOR!" My father yelled. "AYANA, STAY INSIDE!" my mother ordered. And all the while, the hounds made that defeaning sound. It was a second, a moment, and Dream pulled me back to his realm.

An hour later, I heard a long wail, followed by a lingering whimper. My perception of the world was stil distorted, so I listened again. "WHACK!" went that painful sound, and another anguished cry filled my ears. It was coming from a dog which the drivers were going to eat as "pulutan", and my father was letting it happen right in his backyard. I covered my ears and attempted in vain.

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After a momentary lapse of my chickflick syndrome, I wasn’t gonna let an unwanted vision (or whatever’s the word for a walking nightmare) ruin my longing for some surreal, fluffy-mushy movie.

And get it, I did. SPOILER ALERT: Just Like Heaven is perfect for those who read love stories every night and eat chocolates from boxes that come from non-existent boyfriends. Besides the fact that my sister and I were lucky to be seated among the best audience yet (ergo, laughing/clapping/cheering at the same time)  this feel-good movie had a light atmosphere and a couple of plot twists I didn’t see coming (for a chickflick for that matter). My realistic side of me almost wanted Elizabeth to really forget about David and move on, but then again, what would a chickflick be without those perfect happy endings dipped in an oozing chocolate fountain?

What I don’t get though is what’s their promotional poster doing in another world? It reminded me of some old movie with Keanu Reeves… Reese’s dress is soooo 1940’s, and Mark holding a boquet of flowers is totally OOC (out-of-character). Oh, not to mention, spriit-Lizzie and corporeal-Lizzie.

But still. If happy ending’s your thing and you don’t give a flying f*ck about logic, patterns and reason, this is your movie.

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Finally, last Sunday, my mom and dad celebrated their 40th anniversary with the family, with me and Kuya Baby treating the whole clan. It was a good feeling actually, and I have a feeling it should be done again in 10 years. You’ll get your roses by then, Mom. Anyway, here’s a pic I thought you might enjoy. This is a candid picture that happens close to never. Might be a while to top that off.

*The first two pictures are NOT MINE so don’t sue me.