♣psypsyche♣ ∞ ♣psypsyche♣

2006-05-13T12:32:00.000+08:00

mermaid...

Something totally unrelated: I like rain.
Teehee.. There's a storm coming up and I know I shouldn't like this because typhoons do devastate communities... But dontcha just love the gray skies and strong wind. Since i'm ip here on the sixteenth floor, the wind is especially fierce... Its been whistling all morning. Oh i remember my first night in Gabaldon (for GK), the wind was screaming outside our adoptive nanay's humble abode. It was dark and cold and you could easily imagine a mananangal or something outside the house. Ooh.. It was great..
Haah.... People do fall in love with the Gabaldon nighttime sky. I mean it was so pretty. One night during our one week youthbuild we were all sprawled on the stage and we just stared at the sky. So many stars, so many stars... I spotted around ten shooting stars (wohoo)... And when I came back to quezon, I'd be lucky to spot ten stars...
... sigh... There was a build this weekend and I didn't want to go because I didn't have anyone with me... I kinda miss the bunch there...
... and the sky, you just got to love the sky.

2006-03-13T04:14:00.000+08:00

those are the kids dancing for the program... sheesh, i only gotta publish a few pictures here... i'll go on and make a multiply site. :)

2006-03-13T04:13:00.000+08:00

people working really hard. and that's me holding two halo-halos (haha!)

2006-03-13T04:09:00.000+08:00

that's us... ate marj is pointing at a rainbow..

2006-03-13T04:08:00.000+08:00

some of the kids from kalayaan village

my february

2006-03-13T03:21:00.000+08:00

I haven't been blogging for the longest time, sorry Queen... :(

January was my hell month. February was supposed to be I-don't-really-care-about-these-damn-academic-requirements-mood. But I struggled to care and not lapse into that deadly mood which definitely spells doom to my subjects (So what? I'd say then... and then panic panic panic in the wake of the mood). I've been neglectful of most requirements, including this one. So there... :(
Anyway, what have I been doing back in the good 'ol month of lovin? Lots of catching up, lots of mediocre work, blah. Nothing worth sharing, except of course, Gawad Kalinga.

I've spent three out of four February weekeneds in Nueva Ecija (yey!) Gawad Kalinga (In Flipino, "Kalinga" is Care and "Gawad" is...uhh "group" I think) Anyway, its an organization here in the Philippines. Volunteers get to build houses for our dear unfortunate countrymen. Well, my roomies (hereafter called Burgundy girls) volunteered in Kalayaan Village in Gabaldon, Nueva Ecija. Most of the recipients of houses were victims of the landslide last year (Had not someone told me there was a tragic landslide last year, I would've remained ignorant. Hah, that's Up To Date for you!)
Oh, I was fun. Met people. Bonded with the Burgundy Girls. Built Houses. Taking baths has never been more fun (in a STREAM! :)) of course, there are the bigger nameless things.. Maybe I'll get too sappy if i elaborate on them.

Anyway, the last time I went there (which was the last weekend of Feb). My parents mildly dissuaded me from coming (but who's to stop me ?! HAha!). There were a lot of political turmoil going on. There was a coup de etat, and ralleys were abound (Suprise! Not really.) People wanted the president off Malacanang. Blah, blah. Same old predictable Philippine politics. I was pretty annoyed with all the bullshit people are talking about in TV. I mean, seriously, after the first five minutes of news I involuntarily tune out (I think, "Yeah, yeah. Got the point. Philippines is still plummeting to political hell). And I was pissed because I felt the rallyists were desecrating EDSA Revolution 1, that day marked the 20th year anniversary.
But I wasn't really angry that day, I was ecstatic. It coincided with Gawad Kalinga's Isang Milyong Bayani Rally (One Million Heroes Rally).

I was hoping that the ideals would juxtapose...

Philippine politics has always been the dirty finger pointing to another dirty finger. Nobody wants to take responsibility. People blame and blame and blame. People want to overthrow, overthrow, overthrow. But then Gawad Kalinga doesn't destroy or topple anything down. Gawad Kalinga builds. Not only houses are propped up, but hope is restored and relationships between people are strengthened.

The experience is too big to be contained in a single blog entry. and I'm no longer making promises of "I'll get back to you on that". anyway, I'm just going to pelt my blog with pictures.

no point

2006-01-30T00:38:00.000+08:00

I took this picture today. I borrowed my mother's digicam, and I ran amok in the cemetery. (click click click). (Maybe, just maybe you'll see an influx of pictures here... picture à gogo!)

We're doing a reporting in Filipino. Topic: Ghosts. We've decided to make the introduction something about death and its mystery (do a part of us survive after death.. blah blah.. the likes) and i got a little too carried away... hehe... I already took pictures of dead dried roses (we got lots of them) and then I edited it to look like it's fresh and red and it turns brown and dead (romanticism is dead. even roses rot. ) and I'm thinking the voice over says something about just as sure as red roses will rot, the body will also. everything in the world is temporal, everything withers.

I can just picture myself happily doing the editing... I don't mind not getting any sleep if I enjoy what I'm doing. (It matters though, if its 3 am and I'm reading ghost stories for research.)

oh, yeah. and thanks also to my little brother who had this first starring role in our 'documentary'. (snicker. snicker.) Famewhore that he is, his acting will soon be revealed to the world, i.e. my Filipino class. ( I might just post a picture of his 'scared' look')

oh yeah, Hi to Tita Edna, Tita Eva, Tita Marian, Tita Mayet and everybody in Canada and beyond.

hell week?

2006-01-27T13:28:00.000+08:00

Isn't life just grand?
nope.

You know what's nice about about Hell Week? It only lasts a week. Last week was a hell week. This week is a hell week. Next week will be a hell week.From there on, I'm not sure if it'll finally become a hell month. Maybe a hell from this point in life and hereafter?
There was a point in this week that I felt like I'm slowly recovering from the utter stress that cripple me. But no, things just had to take a turn for the worst.
Take today for example:
This morning (2.30 am) Two of my flatmates and I went down to print some things we needed for school, that thanks to my printer running out of black ink. We hung out in 711 until 4 am comes and we discover that (gasp) nobody had keys to the unit! We rang the doorbell, banged on the door and we still couldn't rouse from sleep our three other flatmates. We slept on the corridor, or at least I tried to sleep. and I went to the creepy lobby bathroom around three times because I felt like peeing every hour or so. Worst part of it is, I had a midterm exam for Poetry 8.30 am and I have NOT studied anything at that point. It was 6.30 when we finally managed to wake someone from our unit up. I cut my 7.30 class to try and study for the midterm exam.
Picture me then: I haven't slept a wink. I feel like peeing every hour or so. My stomach felt weird, thanks to hunger and mild diarrhea. I have not started studying for an exam.

Thanks, life, just thanks.

So there I was after the midterm exam, I'm finally regaining some amount of control back when I found out that I lost my ticket for tomorrow's play. Holy macaroni. That was just the final blow. I ain't bitching anymore, or ranting. I'm just plain tired. Tired to even scream anymore. Tired. Tired. Tired. I need a long and relaxing break.
Please, life? gimme a break?

the vtech that never came

2006-01-19T17:03:00.000+08:00

People are getting older, friends are turning eighteen everywhere. I'm on the threshold of adulthood. How have i lived my life?
When i was younger, I was drooled for a V-Tech, you know the laptop for kids. Now that I have a laptop i can die happier, but i digress. One Christmas, I was particularly hoping for a V-Tech. I caught glimpse of a huge wrapped box lying around the house. Naturally, I assumed my pleas have finally been answered. I was happy for a couple of days, till Christmas eve came. The bright, happily wrapped Christmas present didn't contain a V-Tech, and instead an extremely dull electric fan-- which wasn't even meant for me. I went to my room and cried, and told no one. Right then and there I learned that life is to be lived without expectations. No expectations.
And I have been living my life that way since. That's why I'm quite detached. I don't look. I don't dwell.
Older and hopefully a little wiser, I knew it to be flawed. I see this glaring irregularity that have protected me from supreme disappointments. The wisdom Siddharta Gautama realized-- that the middle way is the way-- meant nothing if he hadn't experienced the extremes. There is no way to live life other than to indulge in experience. I knew it. I know it. and that's just it, I just know it, and have never make a move to change my disposition.
Maybe I should start caring.
I bet i don't make sense.haha

Ew, i'm so serious. Is old age finally getting to me? haha...

teeth

2006-01-08T20:44:00.000+08:00

I've had my braces on when i was first year high). I got them off last week, and it feels weird though. After four and a half years of having those metallic things in my mouth, I feel like my teeth are too slippery and… too bare. haha...
Thanks to Anne Rice's books worming their way into my conciousness, I thought of asking, “What if I was made a vampire with braces on? What will happen to my braces? How will my dentist react to the fangs?” Now, I’m so free to be a vampire.
Anyway, I wasn't given chance to get used to having slippery teeth because I got my retainers today. Retainers keep the teeth in their straight positions and prevent them from relapsing... Teeth are quite impressionable and persuasive without the guiding force of braces.. hehe...
I hate the retainers though. It makes me gag sometimes and it just feels exteremly wrong. And, unlike the braces which didn't affect my speech, I now slur my S's. I pronounce them as "eshhh"...

...
...
...
Essshhh

:(

rambling rambling

2006-01-02T12:22:00.000+08:00

sob... sob... horrible... sob... well, I borrowed my blockmate's copy of Anne Rice's Vampire Chronicles (First three books, Interview with a Vampire, The Vampire Lestat, and Queen of the Damned.) I just finished it a couple of days ago. It just killed me. Killed me. Loooooooouuuuuuis!
Sob, seriously it would seriously sadden me if I finish the entire Vampire Chronicles. Like it saddened me when I finished Final Fantasy 8. I thought, "whatever shall I do now?"
What exactly am i sobbing about? The prospect of the inevtiable end? yep, and I'm just feeling the book... I can't explain it. But a good book does this to me. Good books kill me...
-------------------------------------
Random Thoughts:
** Antonio Banderas for all his acting greatness is NOT fit for the role Armand. It's just that Armand should have the "face of a Botticelli angel"... and that guy who played Armand in Queen of the Damned... well, nevermind.... sigh....

-------------------------------------
on a lighter note, I began reading Bill Bryson's A Short History to Nearly Everything... (this time, I think I'm finishing it.)
"Nature and nature's laws lay hid in hight
God said, Let Newton be! and all was light"
- Alexander Pope

of trees and plants

2005-12-04T20:15:00.000+08:00

I took Environmental Science for my natural science class this semester. So, for our laboratory, we have to raise a hardwood tree. Mitch, Ruth and I went to UP last week to buy a plants. We got small Mahogany trees. Anyway, I impulsively started calling my plant "Lambaweewee". Where that name came from, I don't know. Anyway, they were having a good laugh about it and the name just stuck.

Could it be possible that my tree wanted to be called Lambaweewee?

Apparently not.

I took care of Mitch's tree, normally named "Mags", and Lambaweewee for a week. Lambaweewee turned brown. Sob! A couple of its scarce leaves turned brown and there are no new spurts. Sob! Lambaweewee is dying. I don't know what went wrong. Mags is fine. They're in a nice, sunny place. I water them both. I chat with them both... why? My friends suggest its because of the name Lambaweewee. Sob! I couldn't possibly submit a dying tree for my project. It's brown and the project hasn't even started yet! So, this week, we went to White Plains to buy my second tree. My second tree, a Longan, is "Elphaba", named after the green Wicked Witch of the West (think: Oz). The green witch wasn't really named in "The Wonderful Wizard of Oz", but was named in Gregory Maguire's "Wicked". Elphaba the Longan is now with other plants in the school greenhouse. Malky the worm accompanies her.

I also bought a sister plant, a White Angel, which I named "Nessarose". Nessarose is Elphaba's younger sister in "Wicked". She is famously known as the Wicked Witch of the East. Nessarose the White Angel lives beside the terminally ill Lambaweewee the Mahogany. They're in a a warm sunny spot in our condominum balcony. They are watered daily. and I chat with them.

frustrate me.

2005-09-24T15:24:00.000+08:00

Say hello to my Cheshire cat. Hello, cheshire cat.

Here lies my cheshire cat, in a boring, contained .gif format.

Ugh, I'm so frustrated. I made the cat in Macromedia Flash and I've been trying to upload it (as a flash file) here. It supposed to swing gently right to left, while it fades to the background, leaving the eyes and mouth glowing orange.

and I couldn't upload the fucking flash file. For the past three hours, I've been trying to figure it out.

One thing I never had interest in was web-stuff. Sure, I know some basic html codes. But I'm (more of) a programmer and animator not a goddamn webmaster. Ugh, it pays to be a rounded computer person. Sigh...

Three hours ago, I was a gleeful girl, with the happy intention of uploading some of my flash files (including the Singing Hippies flash) in my blog. and now I'm not.

oh friday.

2005-09-17T11:32:00.000+08:00

Yesterday, I got lost in Recto. I was going to UST to meet up with my highschool friends.
I shoud have left the condo around 2:30, but Ate Marj and I got locked out. We were out for a while to gather petitions "for the removal of promiscuous billboards across Katipunan. It's bothering the kids, as well as their parents" , when we realized that none of us has keys. haha... We went inside Ateneo to fetch the key of another roommate. I snuck in. If the guard had noticed the absence of my ID, he would have burned me to high heaven, OR noted down my ID number and count it as an offense. Well, he didn't notice.
Ate Marj volunteered to accompany me to UST, since I'm commuting there alone for the first time. I couldn't let her, of course. She had a TON to do.
So I went. I rode the LRT 2 and got off at Recto station. Then the trouble began. I forgot what jeep to take. Ruth showed me the way two weeks before- we rode a jeep, got off at some intersection, walked through some alleys before we got to Dapitan. oh. panic. panic. panic. I asked some people how to go to Dapitan. They said I should walk there, cross that, climb this, and ride a jeep to... blah. I couldn't understand them for the life of me. So I called me friends. They told me to wait in foodcourt of the nearby mall and they'll come to fetch me. Lemme tell you, there's something comforting about McDonalds when you're lost. Seriously.
They found me, eventually.

the birthday week

2005-09-17T11:12:00.000+08:00

I told my parents that I'd be the one to buy my printer, and by that I meant I'd buy it with my own money. So for the past couple of weeks, I've been trying to save. (and I HAVE been able to save, however barely). Then Mama told me that they'd buy the printer for me as a birthday present. (yey!) So all my savings went to treating out my friends. I treated three sets of friends. But no regrets, they're worth it. :)
Set 1: (Monday) Flatmates and Friends -- These guys are great. They surprised me with cake (Coffee Crumble), balloons, and a banner, a letter and those purple twisting confetti thingies. Really, I'm so touched. :)
Set 2: (Tuesday) Blockmate Friends -- It was a joint celebration. Since Ruth's birthday was two days before mine, so we shared the bill (happily). Mitcha-san bought a cake (Mango, I think). Later that day, we went to see Brother's Grimm in Eastwood (Don't bother watching it. It ain't worth it.)
Set 3: (Friday) Highschool Friends - Thai restaurant... more on this trip on the next post.
aahh... I'm cramming events here... teehee....

gimme a compass or something

2005-08-26T13:04:00.001+08:00

Happy Birthday Mai!! (you're soo ooooold!)

here i am just chilling in the Rizal foyer with my blockmates. wala lang, just passing time.
Well, in a couple of hours I'll be commuting to Gateway to meet up with my highschool friends. I'm not the "eew! commute?! save me!" kind of girl. I have no problems with communting except for the fact that i have absolutely no sense of direction. Seriously. If i don't have a ride, I'll be stranded here in Katipunan.
Not that I don't know how to commute, I just don't know the places here in Quezon. If you leave in Las-Pinas I can commute to the nearby malls.
And today, oh, today is blessed day that I go forth and commute somewhere not in Las-Pinas, and somewhere significant (walking to Jollibee doesn't count). Nobody's going to accompany me. I just got directions. I hope I don't get lost.

Psyche taps her magical red shoes:
*I'm not going to get lost**I'm not going to get lost**I'm not going to get lost**I'm not going to get lost*

It's a friday. It's Mai's birthday. I'm not going home early. And since it will end in the dead of night, they can't let a street-idiot like me take a taxi back to the far, far away land called Quezon city, I'm sleepin over their dorm! hahahaha!! Oh, back to the Slumber Party Days of Yesteryears.

I have to convince them to lead me to the LRT station the next morning because I have to be in Ateneo the next day for a cursed Intact session, which I cannot miss lest I be damned to Intact hell again next year.

Ta-Tah

To go or not to go?

2005-08-11T21:31:00.000+08:00

Sheeeshh... I just can't make a habit out of blogging.

(Sorry, sir, missed one last week.. heheh :) )

A little anecdote:

Anyway, Mama texted me this morning during Chem class. My bag was on my lap as read the message. I didn't know why it didn't occur to me then to bother concealing the cellphone. The text, which wasn't a joke, sounded so funny, I started chucking by myself while Sir Dy was lecturing. Suddenly, Sir Dy referred to the seating arrangement and called Anna's name. (Anna sits next to me) He asked question on the lecture. All the while he was looking at me.

He asked a question, elaborated on it.

I pointed at myself? He said yes

I pointed at Anna. He asked which one of us is Anna

Anna said she's Anna.

Anna, who was daydreaming at that time, is eternally grateful to the nice people sitting behind us who whispered the answers. :)

Hahaha...

Oops, so sorry, Anna. Mah Bad...

My mother asked in that daming text message me if I wanted to come along with her session with Jinky the Psychic. There is something with the phrase "Jinky the Psychic" that is so funny. (I don't know why. Don't ask me to dissect humor.)

(A couple of months (years?) ago Jinky the Psychic allegedy taked to my brother. )

I know someone out there is going to think my mother is a nut for beleiving in this sort of thing(s). As far as I know, she's not into astrology or horrorscopes. She's been interested in life after death after my brother died. I get her. People feel the need to hold on to the last pieces of something forcibly taken from them. I know that, ultimately, the most comforting thought is that they're never really gone, just in some other level.

I have some sort of aversion for people who call themselves psychic. I mean, its so easy for someone to pose as one and attack vulnerable, trusting people.

Sure, I read the tarot, but I don't call myself psychic; instead I call myself "person who reads tarot". (haha) But seriously, it doesn't feel like something other-worldly, it feels completely natural. The words just flow. I don't attempt to explain it. I don't even claim that its anything.

I'm not even sure that its true, despite people saying its accurate. The pervading question is: what if, its me just saying general things and people interpreting it in his/her light. Then, everything would apply. Questions about it just branch out and branch out. Its f r u s t r a t i n g !

Should I or should I not go tomorrow? I guess you'll never know. Blame my irregular blogging habits.

This is a blog about beginnings and never conclusions.

snakes!

2005-07-25T22:53:00.000+08:00

Not the treacherous kind!

Guess what my brother Vincent just found slithering right outside our front door: a baby snake! He trapped it inside an empty bottle of olive oil and then showed it to the neighbors. hehehe... It had a black ring around its neck and my brother said it was unfamiliar to him. That is saying something, he had two pet snakes before one escaped and the other was sold.

I remembered an anecdote my brother told me about. Long before they had me, my family had cats. Once, a particularly mischevious cat dragged along a snake. When my father saw it, he screamed and jumped on top of our ancient yellow Brasillia car. From that distance, he hacked away at the snake with a stick. If i remember correctly, my brother the scream was like "Rrraaarrhh"... Well, it's better told by someone in my family. We'd embellish it with sound effects and uncoordinated reenactments. Text doesn't do justice to something so funny.

Anyway, back to more arresting matters. A baby snake around means a mother snake with sibling snakes around. Spell me danger.

I was quick to thwart the blame: my room is clean! It couldn't have possibly come from there. My mother's favorite line was that snakes would eventually live in the perpetual debris of my perpetually messy room.

But seriously, I suspect it came from the garden. Our 'garden' is small, if you call that small patch of land a garden at all. No one has been tending to it the last few months, ever since the maid left and whatever meanger housework assigned causes masses of grumbling. So, our little patch of land and its narrow brick walkway began to be cluttered with boxes and whatnot. A snake could have easily hid behind the pots and shrubs.

Our neighbor thinks otherwise. He said it could have come from the empty, woody lot at the back of our house. I hope so. I'm concerned for Gucci and Bucci, my pet dogs. They live in that area of the house, and I can't have snakes slithering around where could bite my babies.

A couple of months ago, I stepped on and nearly squashed a frog sitting outside my bedroom door. and now a snake?! What's my house turning into? a zoo? sheeshh...

[insert logo here... umm, make one first.]

Ever wonder what its like to return to man's first living conditions...

but without giving up the conveniences of urban living?

Welcome to the [insert psyche's last name] Zoological Garden!

Experience urban living combined with the wonders of nature!

Watch the spiders cannibalize in fierce matchbox matches!

Hear the chases of gargantuan rats on the roof!

See how houselizards devour moths!

Sleep next to frogs!

Cuddle baby snakes!

Live with a real witch next door!

Observe how apes compete for their turn with the computer!

hello there...

2005-07-18T19:41:00.000+08:00

...

I have a blog?!

Yea, I do but i've been ignoring it up to now.

I feel the need to explain my absence. Before the summer, I thought I'd be more prolific since there wasn't really anything to do. Heck was I wrong.

Living with two Ragnarok addicts/ brothers (one of reasonable age-13 and another of unreasonable age-24) is very taxing to your ordinary blogger. Think this: i have to wrestle for some time before I can check my mail. Five minutes into checking, Philip (also known as "The Shit") complains that i'm taking too long. If i open another browser to check my friendster, he complains that i only said i'd check my yahoo mail.. Ohh-kay.

Anyway, its okay. Nobody bothers to read, anyway. No one misses me... sniff... hehehe... My newly-converted bloggers/ friends have already abandoned blogging to the conventional joys of summer (and now to the pains of college life, but we're not talking about that yet)...

vex me, anna, vex me

2005-05-04T19:59:00.000+08:00

Forgive me, O, hapless reader for bringing this havoc upon you...

Arrghh!!
I've been reading Anna Karenina, up to the end of part four where Anna and Vronsky elope after Karenin forgives them. Aaarrgh! I swear, I had to put down the book and pace around the house. I haven't picked up the book since. Arrghhh! ArrrghhhHH!!
Really, I sort of resented Alexei Alexandrovich Karenin before this whole deal of forgiveness. I called him, "The Administrative Machine". But when Anna calls him to her (supposedly) dying bedside, and begs him for forgiveness, he does grant genuine, love-filled forgiveness to Anna and Vronsky. Hah. and his rising above their level, that made them soo guilty. He loved and looked after Anna and Vronsky's illegitimate baby daughter. Seeing that Anna cannot stand him, he plans on granting her a divorce. And knowing that Anna will be socially scorned and ruined by the divorce, he agrees to take responsility and say that HE comitted adultery...then what happens...? Anna and Vronsky skip the country, never mind that divorce. Yeah, they'll be back begging for that divorce. I know the plot.

Not that the book is totally vexing. It just totally soured my mood. Just when I was so happy over Levin and Kitty's engagement and all. It was so cute. Hehe... At least I can share that to Nessie, since she likes Levin so much.

Anyway, I couldn't tell this to anyone else since my brother is a Ragnarok whore and little else. I'll just have to tell it all to you, oh, dear attentive blog... How can I ever go back to that book?!

The taxi driver/investigator/fortune-teller

2005-04-27T04:06:00.000+08:00

There we were, outside SM South, waiting for a taxi to take us from the damning rain to home sweet home. Bunny, Mari and Baby K (Mari's cousin) and I have waited for a really long time. And I've been suppressing my bladder, because public malls are so crowded I'd probably piss right in front of the bathroom cubicle right before my turn. Haha.
Along comes this taxi and in we go. The thing that struck me most was the driver's voice. Aah. So pretty, so deep and thunderous. Yeah, I thought of thunder then.
Anyway, we were all listening to the radio when the reporter mentioned "Estafa". Baby K asked for the meaning and the driver, 'Cobra', as he later called himself, kindly explained. Then he asked if Bunny was comfortable in the front seat, if she was crouched or something because Bunny is a ten-foot yeti. It all started from there... the questions, the answers, and the predictions.

He started telling stuff, what he felt our auras are saying. He said some things about our personalties that are amazingly accurate. Really, it was the most interesting taxi-ride of my life. Bunny asked if he was a fortune-teller or something. He flatly denied it. He said he could just sense stuff off people. Baby K, who was seated behind him, came off really strong. (Actually, he's an investigator)

(I can't really elaborate on everything that he said about my friends because I'd rather they have privacy. And hey, I don't know who you are.)

Baby K
*There are two or three guys who are courting her. Though she vehemently denied it. Mari confirmed it so, teasingly in fact. (hehehe ) ...giggle. giggle. giggle.
*Was she ever a muse? Yes, she was the muse during their Intrams.
Mari
*Is the jealous type
Bunny
*She's a crybaby (haha.. totally... she cries everytime she sees Land Before Time 1 )
*She's better off taking Criminology or something.

*She will marry at the age of 28.

Psyche

*I am "matalinhaga, magaling magsalita, at magaling magisip"

('striking*, good speaker, good thinker)

*I favor cute people. (Dammit. can't deny... I'm blussshiiinnggg!!)

*My relationships would not last that long because I'm a perfectionist

*If I had a boyfriend right now (which I don't so... I'm not continuing this, hehehe...)

*I will live abroad.

*My job wouldn't be related to Humanities (that's the course I'm taking)
*I will marry at the age of 24.

*I will get married twice (and they were all hooting when they heard this)

*I will have four kids.

Bunny was really impressed- how he gave something of my normally vague, almost non-existent lovelife.

I'm not entirely sure that everything he said was true/going to be true. In fact, I kept on searching the taxi for any hidden cameras or something. It might have been one of those joke shows. It was amusing, either way.

...But if it comes true, I will always remember Cobra, the amazing taxi driver/investigator/fortuneteller.

*Thanks, Bunny, for the translation.

all fact. or else wake me up.

2005-04-27T02:53:00.000+08:00

Generally, my summer has been- oh how shall I put it? hmm-- Boring. When days melt into a single one and with nothing special to distinguish today from yesterday and from tomorrow....

hmm...

...

Then, it all blows up in my face.

Chronological outline of exciting things that have happened:

* A psychotic friend, who thinks I ruined her dreams, resurfaces

* I get a job.

* Shocking discoveries

* The most amazing taxi-ride ever with a man who predicts things

* ****-*** goes missing

* Public outburst along the highway

* A (brief) chase

The last five happened in a day. What? In a day? Yes, the day before yesterday. I haven't blogged that then because it was too much to process for a single day... Too bad I can only talk about my job, and the amazing taxi ride. I'll leave you wondering about the other things.....Haha... I hope yah can't sleep thinkin about it! Mwahahahaha!!

I am Upset

2005-04-22T04:00:00.000+08:00

I must think of happy thoughts!

I am Upset. I should think of butterflies, bunnies and leprechauns and rainbows...
I am NOT a materialistic, superficial person. That I know for sure. For someone to accuse me of that murderous, blasphemous thing makes me capable of MURDER. Murder? Oh yes, MURDER.

I don't care how people look. I'm not shallow, or superficial enough to think that looks are everything. My philosophy extends to o the point that I am almost SLOVENLY, like not combing my hair every morning (Hey Faye! Miss yah!), to the unscrupulous Filipino. Okay. So, for someone to accuse me of discriminating people based on how they look. It makes me murderous. I have not been lacking in telling people this. PEOPLE KNOW THIS ABOUT ME.
(think of funny things, psyche, funny things like Kris Aquino [snicker snicker.. ])

I don't care how popular people are. You don't have to be popular to be my friend. I don't go out of my way to BOW to the gods of highschool. I don't even think highschool has gods. I just don't care! (breathe in, breathe out)

My point is, you don't have to fit in the conventional image of COOL to be my friend. You don't have to have the latest gadgets. Or the chic clothes. Be good looking or have what everyone else have. Every one knows that I don't care...
...except someone who calls himself/herself my friend. (It's Onion)

Also, I adhere to this particular philosophy: I AM NOT A SLAVE TO THE FLOCK.
(translation: I do not bow to peer pressure)
and someone just accused me of that! THAT!

MURDER!

Do you know how horribly nasty that makes me feel- accusing me something that is So Blatantly False. It's like accusing the Pope of satanic rituals. And, I've been very vocal about it too. Then someone comes forward with a horribly, twisted, manipulated picture of me in his/her head and slaps me on the face with that accusation. It's unbelievable.

(think of happy thoughts, psyche, happy thoughts...)

*To the slow: Sigh... No, I don't really want to murder someone. It's just so horribly frustrating.

I have vegetable friends.

2005-04-20T07:47:00.000+08:00

from www.ourveggiegarden.com

Well, whadduyu know? Been a thousand years since I've been here *looks around*.

Nothing blog-worthy have happened since the advent of the grad-ball, and even that is forgettable. Donning a gown is not the highlight of my life...Oh, okay, a lot of things did happen but I can't put that up here. But I can't elaborate on that because I might demolish (crash and burn, baby, crash and burn) someone's self-esteem and entire personality at the slightest hint of negativity. Where's the freedom in blogging, huh?)

And I'm not talking about Carrot here. I'm talking about someone more problematic than her. Heh, let's call her/him/it "The Onion". But wait, I told you, I'm not talking about that. The Onion might find his/her/it way to this nice, lonely page in the web and...what if The Onion kills herself/himself over it? I tell you, I am NOT kidding. I really fear this. The Onion has more problems than your ordinary, sane friend. And not just in what I say in my blog (which The Onion hasn't found yet, thankfully) but in everything I do with The Onion. Fear. Fear. Fear.

I know you guys might not understand what I'm talking about here. But, I tell you, I feel horrible. It goes beyond my usual paranoia, since my other non-vegetable friends also feel this.

Wait, didn't I just tell you, I'm not talking about that?

Psyche. Stop. Talking.

enthusiasm!

2005-04-01T00:15:00.000+08:00

The computer seems to be working seamlessly but I don't know when error will strike. My computer is like a camel. I've read it somewhere that the horse shows that its tired (so you have to slow down and rest) but the camel, that looked fine a moment ago, suddenly drops dead of exhaustion. As in kick the bucket dead.

Anyway, I am straddling two worlds. Highschool disowns me and College is yet to call me as her own. I know you must be sick of my talks of impending doom. But really. What if they pelt me with bubble gum? What if I'm the dunce of the class? I am allowed to be insecure, y'all, I'm a teenager.

Well, circumstances bring the worst of some and the best of some. Nessie plans to lose weight. I'm planning to bulk my brain up (What if I am the dunce of the class so they pelt me with bubblegum or something?) Mari is planning on initiating a novel in collaboration with friends (wow). Pam is working on being fitter through exercise. Suffice it so say that people want to improve themselves.. aah... the sweet smell of enthusiasm only fresh starts can bring.

I can only hope that this new-found enthusiasm won't be sucked into the endless rut of bum. As I always end up.

Yes. Oh yes. I remember it everytime. Even when I was in highschool it was always like "Oh. I'll study next quarter" or "I'll start taking my studies seriously next year" But it never happened. I ran out of school-year quarters and I ran out of high-school years. Here I am now saying, "I'll start taking my studies seriously in college". If I slack off again, feel free to pelt be with bubblegum.

Addendum:

While I was waiting for my friends to arrive, I was watching TV earlier this day and I saw the stupidest thing. See, American Idol is aired on cable here in the Philippines. I followed American Idol Season 3 because I loved to hate Jasmine Trias. I loathed her. Yeah I sound so unpatriotic. But she is soooo overated.. I stopped watching American Idol 4, though..

Gah. Digressions. Anyway, Asia is allowed to vote for American Idol. That. Is. So. Stupid. D'yall think that the 'American' in American Idol means nothing? Am I the only one who sees problem with this?

so long.

2005-03-26T16:37:00.000+08:00

my last post was ages ago. I think i have to tell you guys where I've been. I've been in my house- doing nothing. I'm now a bum, not that summer vacationa already started... haha... it must be my life's calling... The computer is acting up again, that's why I haven't been able to update my blog. (I'm at a friend's house as I type this. Go Marii!) It might be some time again before I can update regularly. But fear not! I shall return!! mwahahaha...

goodbyes

2005-03-09T23:00:00.001+08:00

I wrote in my Yearbook bio-data "motto question": Carpe Diem

car·pe di·em
interj
live in the present: used as an invocation to enjoy the present and not worry about the future

n
act of living for the present: the act of living for the moment and enjoying the present
[From Latin , literally “seize the day”]
Microsoft® Encarta® Reference Library 2004. © 1993-2003 Microsoft Corporation. All rights reserved.

Many of my friends, like Yhenny and Mari, have already started reminiscing highschool. Honestly, there is no nostalgia on my part. I'm a happy-go-lucky "carpe diem" person. I've always had this philosophy that worrying about an irreversible action is being bound to your past and worrying about things that have yet to come is being bound you your future. In both cases, you do not fully appreciate and experience the present. And that, my friends, is the stuff for regrets.

But I've been having doubts on my feelings lately. I think I feel as if my highschool days will never end. I mean, I know that it will eventually - in a couple of days, in fact,- but I don't feel it. It will all end in a couple of days but i don't feel it. Unlike most of my friends (including the non-blogging ones) who already getting sentimental, I don't feel a pang of nostalgia.

I want to feel some sort of goodbye. Have I ever mentioned I'm a stoic bastard?! hehehe. I didn't cry in my elementary graduation- the sole pair of dry eyes amidst sobbing hysterics. (In fact, i was amusing myself).

I'll end with an excerpt from J.D. Salinger's Catcher in the Rye. It's not a profound quote or anything but it expresses my sentiments exactly.

"What I was really hanging around for, I was trying to feel some kind of a good-by. I mean I've left schools and places I didn't even know I was leaving them. I hate that. I don't care if it's a sad good-by or a bad goodbye, but when I leave a place I like to know I'm leaving it. If you don't, you feel even worse."

waterpipe breaks: ruins my day

2005-03-09T20:24:00.000+08:00

Caution: If you are eating. Do not proceed. Do NOT proceed.

So what happened just now? A water pipe broke in our house so we don't have water. nothing. zilch... I still got by this morning when I budgeted a bucketful of water to my daily morning abulusions. And I thought that was the worst of it. HAH!
I came home with a friend of mine, Mari. There was still no water. After a few hours of laughing and talking, I felt Mother Nature's call*. When I lifted the toilet seat, I was greeted by the brown murky waters of someone's uh, excrement**. No. No. No. That cannot be. I tried to open the door to the other bathroom, but alas. It is locked. damnnn yoouu... I have to wait till my parents come home to unlock the door... Okay. I wasn't bursting then, so I thought I could make it till they arrive.
Soon after, Mari felt the call*. I had spared her the sight of the wretched toilet. It's a good thing her driver arrived before she burst in my room floor. Thank goodness for small miracles.
Ahh.. But soon after that, I grew distressed by the minute. So I turned to the web for distraction. So engrossed was I with my conversation with Rowie and Mari's nasty day, that I forgot the food I was cooking. It was supposed to be Adobo*** but then I burnt it and it looked like fried chicken. Oh, curses. Hope my mother doesn't scold me...

No, mother, not the whip!****

* "I needed to piss" - in our conversational dysphemism.
** shit
***Philippine stew, I think. It's chicken or pork marinated and cooked with soy sauce and other spices. It has
**** kidding. duuh

my future batchmates, hopefully

2005-03-05T22:08:00.000+08:00

*note: rambling. forgive the lack of coherence and persistent digressions.

Earlier today, we went the to Ateneo School of Humanities Open House. It was alright..

We were a bit early, my parents and I so we had to wait a bit outside. The first thing that greeted me was the sight of my 'batchmate' reading a book by Voltaire. I was temporarily mortified for him, but then I realized that this is not Seton where Being Seen With A Book = Super Nerd. In fact, a lot of them brought books- projects to emmerse themselves with in case they have no one to talk to, I guess.

Anyway, we were oriented to the school of humanties, the courses, its dean, department heads.. blah blah... Two graduating students from the school also spoke to us. The latter speaker (also taking Humanities) thoroughly convinced my mother that there are job opportunities for this field. mwahahaha.. I'm not destined to poverty people, stop dragging me down!

My batchmates, what of them? Yep, I've met them. They're all right. I can hear them speak English pretty well, and that's expected since Ateneo is known to be a school for the coños. Ahh... They didn't snipe me or anything, as i imagined - mwahaha...

Overall, they're okay. Though I've developed somewhat a pre-mature aversion for a Shannyn Sossamon lookalike who wore chic, wide rimmed glasses because she sort of annoyed me. It's too early to decide. I don't act on unfounded opinions anyway. We might eventually be friends, you know. The Department of Humanties is small, so we'll all end up being close- that is, according to the first graduating speaker.

I made a new friend! Maureen. It started from smiles and we end up talking. She lives near my house, incidentally, and we were discussing lodging problems. She's bigger than me. Yah know what, I must be unconsciously selecting friends who are bigger than me to compensate for my uh.. lack of stature. But then again, everyone is taller than me (blast these short legs!)...

*We toured the campus, including the Ateneo Art Museum, the only museum of modern art in the Philippines. Even more amazing is that they have an original Salvador Dali*, among many other famous artists. Some of my batchmates gasped at the mention of orginals of Zobel, Picasso, blah blah. Since I'm much like an interested passer-by than an art-enthusiast, I was troubled because my course might entail total emersion in art.

*I didn't get to see the Salvador Dali, though. They had an ongoing exibition called Vain Glory, a Senior project.

tomorrow...I digress...textbooks

2005-03-03T20:30:00.000+08:00

Care to ask me what tomorrow is? (It's always a day awaay. Yes, Chicken Commercial*, I know)

It's the last day of the quarterly exams, and the end of all the studying (or pretend studying). mwahahAHAHA! The rest of the time will be spent for graduation practice. But who cares... it all ends tomorrow.

The last exam of the day (and of highschool, for that matter) is (insert thunder and lighting) PHYSICS!! So now, I'm trying to study for the Physics exam. The assigned physics textbook totally says Hey-I'm-cool-with-kids-because-I'm-funny. Weird approach for a textbook. Anyway, it utterly failed in humor because it's utterly corney. Almost every page has some corney attempt to humor.

I opened the book and I was greeted by a picture titled "Fresh Jokes" . It featured talking vegetables having the following conversation:

"How would you avoid having food rotate in your stomach?"

"Eat a BALANCED diet!"

"What are you guys TORQUING about?"

Do they expect this reduces us to giggling fits? I am not an IDIOT. It makes me wonder if seniors are supposed to oggle in wonder at fugly pictures and doing so would somehow improve our comprehension of (insert thunder and lighting) PHYSICS!!

Sigh. When will be the day when all science textbooks are written Bill Bryson style? He wrote this book titled, "A Short History to Nearly Everything", which i have never read past the second chapter because of this huge distraction called "school". Anyway, I first read of it in Bookbrowse. I was drawn in by an excerpt. and I compelled my mother to purchase a copy. Despite not finishing the book (yet) I can tell it's really good. It's witty, and never insults the reader's intelligence through fugly pictures of vegetables and craptastic jokes.

*some squeaky kid sings Shirley Temple's Tomorrow in an chicken commercial.

lucky me. or not... or yeah..

2005-02-25T21:40:00.000+08:00

I've always been lucky when it comes to winning stuffs.. Twice or thrice this happened: I bought a popsicle, that won another popsicle, that won another popsicle. hehe... In addition to loads of ice cream, I have also won a t-shirt and a camera... That is a lot, in my sixteen years of existence. That is a load of luck. I ought to try lotto sometime. or sweepstakes.

Anyway, in addition to all the things that i won. I have also almost won a Home Component System (capitalized for emphasis)... wait... a HOME COMPONENT SYSTEM.... amounting to 57 thousand pesos. I was dazed as ever.

It all started when this overly perky employee guy gave my friend some promotional paper to scratch. Vanessa wasn't interested so she gave it to me. I scrached the paper and revealed the number: 999. It won the biggest prize in their promo. A HOME COMPONENT SYSTEM. What's the catch? It's a goddam SCAM. In order to claim my prize, I have to purchase one of thieir promo items, the lowest of which cost about Php26,000. But then I called up my mother and she told me to ignore the whole affair. It's just a scam, she told me...

...

.....

.......

bah...

why do I goddamn bother?!

2005-02-25T12:21:00.000+08:00

why do I goddamn BOTHER?
So here i am, I looking for someone with sense to talk to. I can't just call up my friends, yah know, it's the middle of the night.
So I open yahoo messenger and try to talk to people in the chatrooms.
I am met by morons.
and more horny. stupid. morons.

Never bother trying to talk to someone with sense when you're chatting in yahoo messenger's chatrooms. Everywhere I go I just talk to horny indians or the likes it's either English is completely wrecked. (What in goddamn hell are you talking about?) or they just want to fuck someone over the internet. (How pathetic is that?).

For the millionth time, why do I bother? Maybe I'm a moron myself, for being too optimistic about people. Maybe I expect too much of people. It's obviously not possible to detach your mind from sex, for godsake! How could expect sooo much? an intelligent conversation is sooo out of the question, and is sooo detached from reality.

Why do I keep on looking for things at the wrong places?!

to bring or not to bring

2005-02-24T22:30:00.000+08:00

my parents.
hah. i speak as if they're objects, huh?
Just got an email from Ateneo, inviting me to go to this open house thing next saturday. The School of Humanities wants to invite incoming students and their parents to survey the facilities. Meet the possible department heads, faculty, future batchmates...
Dillema: to bring or not to bring my parents.
I've been told (and scared stiff) that dragging parents along in college invites RIDICULE.
But if I don't bring my parents, and every body else does. I'm a loner.
If nobody brings their parents, I still have no one to talk to. Should I... no... COULD I make friends?! I'm meeting my future batchmates here! I'm sooo not ready yeet?! Why so goddamn soon?!?.... What if they will all despise me... or what if i'll despise them all?!
... my friend Vanessa said my parents should come....
... my father said that Open House is the only time for parents can go and survey the school, so they should...
... thank heavens for Mari, Yhenny, and Fatty for volunteering to go with me... though i'm not sure that's allowed. You guys are such angels. mwah!...

Well, I'm thinkin' that I should bring my parents...
Fine... CRUCIFY ME!

My panic a little earlier was completely unfounded...
I'm hyserical like that. I know. Hysterical.
So, whadduyu think? Should I?

about a boy

2005-02-23T21:19:00.000+08:00

just saw "About A Boy" on cable last night. It was real nice. Hehe.. I still can't get over the fact that Hugh Grant looks so much alike Percy Shelley.

percy shelley and hugh grant.... (really? some friends agree on the resemblance, some don't)

Don't get me wrong I'm not a super fan of either of them. Especially Percy Bysshe Shelley (damn youu!..) For more information on my absolute loathing for this poet, please comb the web for his beautiful, abandoned, manipulated, and suicidal first wife, Harriet Westbrooke Shelley, who became so miserable because he ran off with a sixteen-year old hoe by the name of Mary Wollenstonecraft Shelley( - Yes, the REAL Frankenstein.) while Harriet was PREGNANT with their second child. Can I add that Percy suggested a menage a trois to Harriet with Mary?! ugh! the audacity! May I also add that she FORGAVE the both of them. FORGAVE. During her last days, she said her marriage to Percy was the best days of her life.Her ghost reputedly still wanders in the hotel where they spent their happy honeymoon. Reading suggestion (that left me in frothing yet comical fury): In Defence of Harriet Shelley by Mark Twain

ANYWAY, the MOVIE (About a Boy, in case you forgot) was really nice. I think Oprah asked him what was his favorite movie that he starred in. I think it was About a Boy. It's about how meaningful a life is when you're involved with someone you truly care about...

Retreat Saga: Class Tear Fest

2005-02-21T20:50:00.000+08:00

Retreats such as the one I just had lately usually reduce people to uncontrollable sobs. Even boys, who you'd think you'd never see in your life cry. Thank goodness for that, we are beginning to get rid of that men-who-cry-are-gay macho mentality. We should all recognize and accept all the phases in our character: the feminine and the masculine. but i digress.
How could you not help crying? Failures and miskates, that people try oh so hard to deny and forget, become so glaringly apparent that you cannot hide it. You cannot relaliate or run away from your mistakes anymore, because its said with the best of intentions and you know it.

the pang of guilt... that darn ball of thread on the throat... a drop of tear. another... another bucket..

...well that's how it happened to most people in our class. not me of course... I'm a stoic.

I think I've killed off my conscience... I asked the Father Joel, the priest whom I confessed to, if the absence of the pang of guilt when a sin I am guilty of is mentioned, is a sign of lack of remorse. He said it had something to do with the conscience. I think bottling up rotting feelings inside kills the conscience.. harhar... or being too darn stubborn...

A few of my classmates came from broken famillies- a suprise, I didn't think it was like that here in the Philippines-in Western countries, of course.. A lot are experiencing family problems far worse than mine. They suffer genuinely hurtful circumstances, makes me feel like I'm a big weiner. It's suprising to know how great the human capacity is to suffering...I was sitting there, comforting my seatmate, Arienne, who was sobbing uncontrollaby. Real sad stories.

Too bad i'm a stoic. But more on that on another post.

There was also the group sharing. We were grouped with some people in our class- we didn't get to choose who we wound up with. As expected, my automatic okay-i'm-sociable persona assumes the lead role. I felt kind of fake then, though everything I said was completely, unadulterated fact. I call the entire affair forced interaction. Anyway, we learned a lot about each other.suffering binds people... tehee.

There's also the activity with forgiving- it was real nice. You go and approach the people who've hurt you and accept their forgiveness and the people you've hurt and offer them apologies. Another spectacular display of waterworks assumed. People ended hugging, sobbing, laughing...

Our class really bonded and all. How can you help it... straight 47 hours with the same people?! Nice. Though I must admit that though I feel somewhat closer to my other classmates, I would still rather be with my close friends and some classmates. It's just the way I am- a semi-loner, probably.

So much happenings in a span of three days (actually only two days when you add the hours up), it's sort of hard to remember things without being both sad and happy about it. I was plagued with nostalgia for the past few days. Gawd, I can't believe I wouldn't re-live that experience again. All in all, this retreat garners a soft, nostalgic spot in my heart...aww... how kitsch of me...

Retreat Saga: NuN FroM HeLL

2005-02-18T21:53:00.000+08:00

It's been so long since I've last written anything here...
Anyway, I just came back from our three-day class retreat in Batangas, particularly in the mountain range of Batulao. We spent the entire time in the retreat house of Don Bosco Batulao retreat house. But you don't want to hear particulars, now do you?
I feel like I really shouldn't be saying this, I have just gone to confession yesterday. But really. Anyway, I asked the priest if its wrong to suppress my feelings and all; that's what I've been doing all along anyway. He said feelings are always correct-there are no right or wrong feelings. What we should be careful about is what we do or say because of those feelings. So, lemme tell you bout me feelings.
Let me tell you about the NuN FrOm HeLL. I don't want to elaborate all her injustices towards us. She practically breathes down everybody's throat. But me and friends are special, she wrings our throats. Even one of our teachers agreed, the some rules are unreasonable.
I and some of my friends were separated from the rest of the girls because there wasn't enough room in the dorm. We had a separate dorm- fine by us! At night, NuFroHeL locks the door so that we may not get out of the room. She goes by the presumption that we are mad dogs waiting for the slightest hint of freedom to go out screaming and proceed to our wild ways, like partying and bar-hopping in remote mountains. Ironically, my friends are the... quietest bunch of the class. Two of which are known of being so silent that it's a 'miracle' to hear them speak. We were worried because in case there was a fire there was no way we could ever get out of the room since Sister had the key.
This one really pissed me off today. There was a terrace near our building and from where you can get a beautiful view of the mountains. I had no hesitations into going to the terrace since nobody said that it was forbidden or anything. In fact, we even saw some girls from another retreat group frolicking in the terrace. Since I'm a sort of a nature buff, I dragged my friends down to the trellis where we marveled at the view. NuFroHeL saw us and shouted, "Who told you to go there?!" Here are her arguments:
Well, we couldn't really reason with her. She wouldn't listen.
1. She said: She already impeded someone's attempt to go to the terrace. She insists it was my friend, but since i've been with her the entire time, she wasn't the one.
Refute: No, no, no. no one told us that it was forbidden otherwise we wouldn't have gone there.
2. She said: we were oriented that there was a boundary to where we could walk about.
Refute: Quite the contrary. None of my friends remembered anything the Don Bosco speaker said about boundaries. In fact, she even insisted that we explore the grounds, provided that we do not wander at night
3. She said: She didn't want us to go there since the terrace has a malicious reputation. Some kids from our school from a previous batch was seen there doing Public Display of Affection. She even said that she didn't want to tell us that to avoid rumors.
Refute: precisely. We didn't know. And another thing, we were all girls. Sure, I'd french kiss the post.
4. me: aah.. okay. If all I'm going to contend with is the dorm room and the conferene room. might as well hold the retreat in some messy, urban apartment. Oh no. Don't appreciate the beautiful scenery. "What's a sundial in shade?"-Benjamin Franklin

As a punishment, she will give our names to our school prefect of discipline. That killed me, I wasn't guilty because I did something wrong because I didn't do anything wrong. It guilted me that I dragged my friends into this mess. Thankfully, they're great. They didn't hate me. We have yet to see the conclusion of this story.

Addendum: Me: according to some friends who were part of previous batches, they were allowed to wander in the terrace.
In addition to that:
--They were allowed to eat food in the conference room
--They were NOT locked in the dorm.

... stop ranting, psyche...
...sigh...

...ahh.. I feel bette. Keeping feelings bottled up is murder. It was silently killing me, really. But more on that on next posts...

my dog is goddamn prankster.

2005-02-10T21:52:00.000+08:00

My Dogs - Gucci and Bucci
A couple of minutes ago, I went out of the house carrying the dogs' food bowls.
Bucci (my dog) was lying on his side, motionless. I gently prodded him with my foot. He didn't move. I even thought I saw flies hovering around him. My heart skipped a beat. I was staring for a couple of seconds, trying not to think about him being dead, when he jumped up and started wagging his tail happily. DAMN DOGGGGG!!! How could he scare me like thaat!!

"I'm totally better than you"*

2005-02-10T01:31:00.000+08:00

The Shit insists that Meg likes him better. I agree but I don't show it, of course. It doesn't bother me that he is; I know I'm as affectionate as a chair. He's simply better socializing with people and all. The thing that bothers me is, he INSISTS on it to no end. Hello?

In fact, my aunt has this cat who shows his open loathing for me because I always pick him up and annoy the hell out him. Well, whadduyu know, the cat loves and purrs around him. If that jerk ever rubs it in my face that a "gay cat" (as described by my father) likes him better in an effort to convince himself that he is better than me in some things to compensate for uh, lack of intelligence? I will so die of laughing. I don't claim to be surpass him but he talks as if I proclaim it to humanity. Helloo? I'm not a paragon of virtues, but arrogance is no sin of mine... what have i got to boast?!

One time, we were riding in the car he boasted (and made no attempt to conceal it) that our older brother thinks The Shit is a better driver than me. He said (translated): "Vincent said [ to me], 'you're a better driver than Psyche. {You're a fast learner}' " . He said it, said it several times and rephrasing it a little and all the while wearing that smirk on his face. Wouldn't that just brighten your day?

I smell the stink of inferiority complex here.

*No, he did not really say that. But that's what he goddam implies!

gush, people, gush

2005-02-09T23:38:00.000+08:00

I planned to do some reading these past few days, but I haven't turned a single page as of yet. Nor have I done any schoolwork, but then again, I am Sloth-Master Psyche who specialize in neglecting and 'accidentally' forgetting schoolwork. I can just hear them studious people gasp...
Why have I been such a lazy ass these days, you might care to ask. This time I have an acceptible and adorable reason:
Meet: my neice, Ashley Meg Lewis. Yep. What a cheerleader-y name.

gush, people, gush...

The pictures are quite outdated though. She's on her seventh month as of now, and the picture was taken only when she was a couple of weeks. I can't find a recent picture of her loaded on the computer though. Which is a wonder, because people go picture-crazy around this baby.

Everytime she spends a couple of days here in our house (sometimes she's at her mother's house in Cavite), it totally disrupts my life - a welcomed interruption though. Don't I can never forget the time when she was much younger and when she sent me to panic mode in about five seconds. I was alone in the house with her when she pooped, pissed, was hungry and was crying. and I can't find the damn baby supplies. She was wailing like a banshee, no exaggeration. It nearly killed me. Beware of the babies.

Anyway, I had to attend to her for a couple of hours while the people of this menage attend to chores. Today: one minute she's laughing and the next she's bawling--the little baby has a cold, and she can't breathe all too well. She was laughing so hard a couple of hours ago, The Shit and I were doing some bogus and extremely embarrassing Chicago-style presentations with made-on-the-spot-lyrics in front of her. She was laughing so hard.

reading

2005-02-04T18:41:00.000+08:00

I used to like reading.
I now i sort of resent it.

This is how it happened to me. It all started when I was genuinely attached to reading. It became known to some people. I described myself as someone fond of reading. Do you feel how some things begin to define you, and you feel so restricted? I felt that. And then, I tried to keep up the image, lest I become a phoney. I tried to shove reading, which was once a pleasureable pastime, down my throat. I choked. I have been describing myself as a bookie, and if i wasn't bookie, then I'm a liar. Am I? Well I became one, in my twisted mind.
Now I sort of resent it.
what a shame.

And that is sad, yah know. People condense your personality to a single sentence. I am much more than a girl who reads. He is much more than a taekwando guy. She is much more than an guitar player.. A person cannot be bound to only a solitary passion. You cannot possibly contain the beauty of a person into the confines of a single thing.

I'm being weird and complicated again..

tarot cards

2005-02-03T21:35:00.000+08:00

Have I ever mentioned that I can read tarot cards? Well, I can. At least I think so. Here are pictures taken through my webcam. I don't have a digicam, because, unfortunately, I'm technologically underpriviledged.

Some of my tarot cards, and a little bit of me.

Why am I blogging on this? Eleven people asked for a tarot reading session with me within the past six days. And that's a lot-for me. Before that, my last tarot reading was months before. I hardly even thought of tarot cards then. And now, word got around a couple of days ago that I could read tarot, and i was allegedly accurate. Now I'm swamped. and tired.

Now, I read tarot differently. I don't go for the what-will-happen-in-the future readings. I was read by someone who did that kind. It was amazing, she was dead accurate. I can't do that because, I don't know how the hell knows those things. I taught myself tarot through the guidebook accompanying the cards. I concentrate on the present. because I believe the future has not been written down and we steer the course of our lives; we are the captains of our ships. And I discuss in-depth probelms revealed by the cards with the querents and all. I advise...

They say I'm accurate. But I just can't stick that in my mind. Every time i start a session, I get attacked by these insecurities and that i can't really read cards..

Of those eleven people only three of which are close friends. The rest are.. sort of friends, just plain acquaintances in school and all. Reading for friends is easier, yah know, I know how the gears in their brain works and I feel pretty confident about things I say because I'm comfortable with them. But reading for mere acquaintances is nerve-wracking (I never show it though). Well, I ask them if it was correct and all, and they say it really is. But i can't shake the feeling off.

I read for six people the other day. None of them are close friends. In fact, I rarely speak to them classmates. They were in my house because we were doing some project for Physics. Each one of them asked about their love lives (curse those teenage hormones!). It was amazing how we bonded-the readings got everybody to open up with their love lives. and we were discussing and advising.. wow..

i have not realized that tarot can be such an effective social tool until now..

The Carrot

2005-02-02T22:31:00.000+08:00

I have a friend who has the full confidence level of a carrot, therefore, I shall dub her and she shall be called hereafter as "The Carrot". Why the carrot of all vegetables, of all things?... uh.. don't know really...

Conflicting: Psyche-the-friend and Psyche: Whiner Terminator.
She wHiNeS a lot and make no mistake about it. Give her diapers and a warm bottle of milk and though she'd still whine she'd look acceptible at least- just tell people she's teething. She's an emotional vampire, if ever there is one. Don't hate her, people. It's not like she meant to be so screwed. ( i feel so mean.)

I try soo hard to empower her. But everything I, as well as everybody else, say just passes from one ear and out through the other. It is so frustrating, grab-my-hair-off-my-head frustrating.
She keeps on insisting she's dumb, incapable, and all. She's not. It's al in her head. The capacity to learn and improve is innate, The Carrot. How many hundreds of times do you want me to repeat that?? And the most frustrating part is- she does nothing to improve herself. Nothing except whine, bitch and make self-deregatory comments- that is soo helpful.

You are what you make yourself to be. Of course, with the discovery of genetics, we all have legitimate reasons to blame our parents. (haha.. it was a joke, for heaven's sake!) All of us are given these sets of characteristics and it contains nasty and good parts. In the end, it's up to us who we want to become. I am who I am now, stop bitching and start accepting it. Now, the question is, "who do i want to become?" certainly not someone with the confidence level of a vegetable.

You have a choice, people!

You can choose who you want to be!

wohoo... freedom!

2005-02-02T21:43:00.000+08:00

Before i lose my fleeting sardonic wit-supposing that that bump I suffered as a child did nothing to impair my thinking- I'd better write something down.

I just changed my url. The reason i took a blog in the first place is to have a place I can rant to, and express things about my life and all. And I can't have people in my "real" life walking all over it- they might get "touchy as hell" (oh, how Holden Caulfield.) The week I made my original blog, I had a temporary lapse of good judgement and I told a friend of this site. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. I just got frustrated and all- having to filter all the stuff that might offend her because she DOES go by my site sometimes. I don't know why the hell i told her the site anyway. This is my space. mine. mine. mine.
Down, Spikey, down! Don't bite the innocent passers by! The hydrant is still yours. still yours...

There's not much difference from my last url, I only added three letters. I keep on thinking, what if they accidentally type the correct site? harhar... ooh. swell..

what's this?? another sign?

2005-01-31T14:21:00.000+08:00

For all high-school students of our school, today is a free day (meaning no school), bestowed by our headmistress for our purdy cheering presentations last friday. It's not uncommon, really, she usually announces the next schoolday after the Intrams a free day.

ANYWAY, I woke up late today 1 pm. So first thing i did was eat "breakfast" and browse through the newspaper (how old am i?). I read an article from Philipine Daily Inquirer that totally spoke to me. It made me think what I ought to be getting for my tertiary education. Quote:

"The point of education is not just to enable students to work, it is to enable students to think. The point of education is not just to impart skills, it is to impart vision. The point of education is not just to prepare the youth to face the "outside world." The point of education is to educate"

Growth as a person, that's what education should be all about. And to connect that with humanities, here's a quote from the blog of a buy also taking humanities in Ateneo:

"...where he is taking up ab humanities, an underrated course which is one of the few courses that make one fully aware of what it is to be human and making one really smart and cultured at the same time, not like future automatons and corporate slaves who would eventually see their lives as empty. "

are these signs that say i should pursue the course?

getting real nervous

2005-01-30T20:53:00.000+08:00

I'm getting really nervous of my course in Ateneo. AB Humanities. It was love (or infatuation?) at first sight. I didn't know what I wanted before. Last summer, I was perusing possible courses and i came upon a short description of AB Humanities in Ateneo de Manila. It was the shortest course description on the site page:

"The Humanities Program, under the Department of Interdisciplinary Studies, is especially for students who are interested in art, literature, languages, history, education, and philosophy."

All of the subjects (except art and education) mentioned there are my thing. By that i mean, not where i visibly excell, but where i am interested in. Don't get me wrong. I don't have trouble with my math, science or any other rigid areas of knowledge. In fact, I'd probably excel more in those subjects than the subjects i interest in.

My English teacher told me I should tap whatever thing i'm good at. You should've seen how his face dropped when I told him I'd be taking humanities. He said I suit Communications better. But I'm as shy as hell. hah.

God, if i graduate from humanities, what could I possibly be? I'm going to be either a WRITER or a TEACHER, none of which are guaranteed money making courses, heck, I'm not even assured a JOB... I know money can't buy happiness; but financial stability is a real nice thing for my parents, yah know. Sometimes I think knowing too much is a hindrance, you know. I think too old for my age. Most of my peers' intention is money. Mine is about "doing what i love"

Since there is absolutely no job opportunity for me here, some friends suggested that other countries are in dire need of teachers. So i need not worry job-related issues if i take humanities. My mother wants us to leave this job-forsaken, sinking ship of a country, anyway. (The question of me wanting to leave the philippines is a different topic. I beg not to stray) I'm not even sure of that. I read an article a few days ago; it was about humanities graduates and scholary people having a hard time finding jobs and money in the united states. It sent me to panic mode... haha..

Ate Miki, who' s a sister of a friend and who goes to Ateneo, says the course isn't really important. She said that some people once rated all the courses in Ateneo and there were arguments and all. Humanities was in the middle part, according to her. But she said, if i take humanities, I can shift to any course...

*Addendum: After publishing this post, i ventured out to other blogs. The first one i went to was owned by an Atenista. The first two lines of her post said:
"I plan on shifting to
AB Humanities"

Oh my gawd.. Is this providence???

college....

2005-01-22T21:12:00.000+08:00

I passed Ateneo, and UST (University of Santo Thomas). I haven't recieved the letters yet but I checked it over the internet. So far, I've passed three out of four universities. The last to announce the results is UP (University of the Philippines). But I'm not even hoping to pass that. All courses I wrote were quota courses and I was sick when i took the test. Can't-think-and-get-it-over-fast-so-don't-bother-reading-questions sick. I hate it telling people that story. Sounds like I'm whining. And I hate whiney people.

So, I passed my first choice in Ateneo. I'm real lucky, only a few people passed. But I've been having qualms about the course, though.

worst hysteria of my life

2005-01-13T22:17:00.000+08:00

I've been dead.. busy. Not as busy as I expected but still, busy.
Lemme just tell you what happened the other day: My friends and I had an 18" Yellow Cab Pizza delivered with our own money. with. our. own. money. There were two slices left when we finished eating. So i put them away. After that my friends left, I was reading this engrossing story on the internet. After a while I went out of my room to look for the two slices of pizza.
Can't find it anywhere. I asked my mom. Then, The Shit ran away from me and into his room, screaming angrily, "Mama said it was okay!" My mother said in suprise, "we ate it already"
Hysteria.Utter Hysteria.
I totally yelled, it wasn't OUR food it was food MY FRIENDS' and I bought.My mother offered to repay the pizza but to no avail. I was inconsolable.
My mother told me that she didn't know. I know that, I don't hold her responsible for that. But THE SHIT knew it was ours. He was THERE when we ordered and ate the fuckin PIZZA. HE FUCKIN KNEW! and what decency can you expect from a fat pig (NO exaggeration). I was mad because he was a INDECENT, GLUTTONOUS (totally deserved the second circle of Inferno) SHIIT, who knowingly and ate (probably savorly) food that wasn't his. SOMETHING THAT WASN'T HIS! isn't that stealing...? stealing!!

You know what I felt like doing, I felt like grabbing The Shit's hair and banging his head repeatedly against his study table until it bleeds. NO JOKE. I totally wanted, desired, no, was totally IMPULSED to do it. Do you know what I did..? I took the knife.. haha.. kidding.. I did not even step a meter away from his room's doorway because I kNOW i can't hold myself from beating the pulp out of him if i strayed any closer.I ran into my room. Slammed the door. And started hitting the concrete wall with my fist. Kicking everything I could kick. and throwing everything I could get my hands on. I was crying in UTTER FRUSTRATION and IRE. fury. fury. fury.

My father came in, asked what the hell happened, and i refused to tell him. He got mad. I told him and he shouted at me because it took me so long to tell him. So the Invisible Man (papa) went away.

Then Mama opened the door and I couldn't help myself from shouting. I could not help myself and I don't blame myself for it. She couldn't say anything, shocked perhaps, of my behavior. I closed the door. Continued my business.I don't know what happened then, but I just heard the Invisible Man shouting about someone (it's either me, or my mother) for being O.A and telling her it's because The Shit (who he refers to as "yung isa" (the other one)) who knew the pizza wasn't ours (the family's) and yet persisted that he eat the pizza. I still don't care. Too Fucked Up Pissed to Care.Don't you think that it's just wonderful that he shouted? How helpful. Oh, whatever shall we do without his shouting?

I am mad at my mother for these reasons:
1. Didn't she even ASK where the hell the pizza came from? FACT: Expensive pizza do not simply appear out of thin air.
2. She did not even SCOLD him for the ultimate jerk that he is. We are talking about the mother goes crazy and screams at me for procastinating with household chores. Here is a legitimate reason to be angry, and she passess up the opportunity to show the enormous power of her 'rage'? she didn't scold him??
What the hell?

What i am doing now:
1. Not caring
2. Am not and will never be eating their dishes. I'd rather die or starvation.
3. My murderous stare (yes, a lot of people can testify i look like i want to murder someone)
4. be nocturnal again so i don't have to interact with them (i don't care if i have nightmares. my life IS a nightmare)

The next day (yesterday), The Invisible Man was being ever so nice to me. Didn't care. Will never care. It really pissed him off. Just now, he slammed my door (for a change) and yelled something about my being angry, and how he'd show me. I didn't hear him properly, I was typing this blog..I'm didn't hear that...lalalalalala... You know what, it was weird. I didn't even tremble. I was... fine..

me. a picture.

2005-01-04T22:30:00.000+08:00

me. a picture. a never ending attempt to record the present. preserve myself. she's gone now. i'm a stranger to myself. everytime i check, i'm someone different. forever drifting, nothing to hang on to.

family, relatives, rant

2005-01-03T15:00:00.000+08:00

"you can choose your friends but not your relatives"
oh please, i rather be with people i'm unrelated to but i like, than people who's relation to me was apparent since birth. God, i hate relatives. Nothing personal, or anything. Some of them i sincerely, truly like, like my cousins in cebu... Some of them (the city relatives of my mother) i abhor and dodge everytime there's a reunion or that kind of hell.
thing with families is, you SHOULD like your family members. if i was unrelated to by brother, i would have clobbered him already. don't get me wrong, i could never like that worthless peice of shit. hate. hate. hate.
if kids hate the teacher's pet. how would they like living WITH one. I mean, living with a leech pretending to be a nice, sweet boy sucking up to everybody including my mother... But that's the biggest, fakest, phoniest facades I know in my life. The kid is total shit. He has a worse mouth than eminem (GROSS exaggeration, the boy could never excell in anything but being a total ass.) He's stupid, too. During an argument he started, I told him not to waste my time. He doesn't have anything worthwhile. Do you know what he told me? tagalog gist translation: "what the hell can you do if i can't say anything?".. TOTALLY STUPID.
I shall never give up my pride for shit like him. That's a good name. I'd name my younger brother The Shit.
the thing with me is, you can't bribe with money or goods. for example, my mother just bought a new shirt or whatever. it doesn't mean that i would refrain from getting angry at her when she does something that totally pisses me off. I'd still get pissed off, and i show it.
she has this crazy attitude of going hysterical everytime i procastinate doing some household chore. I mean she really goes crazy for the most petty reasons. Once, she threatened to leave us because the kitchen scissors were missing. for. god's. sake. besides, procastination IS my name. Of course, she wouldn't know that to be one of my vices, she doesn't know anything about me. Bet you my life my friends know me better. Bet you my life my friends listen to me better. Bet you my life my friends understand me better. argh!
You know what, I'd like lodge in some far away land for college. far far away.

oh glee...!

2005-01-01T02:07:00.000+08:00

I only applied for four univerities for college. four. i thought i should have summoned the effort to apply to more univeristies, thus making myself eligible to more options. But no, I was stubborn and lazy. So, i was chewing my nails nervously (not really) for the past few months. Thinking that if i did not pass a single univeristy, I am condemned to live a life of lowly jobs and poverty... waitressing, hairdressing, all my life.... noooooo!
But hey!I just found out.. I just passed one! The first of the four universities to declare the results said that i passeed!wohooooooo! Thank God, I totally need cheering up right now. and if other univeristies don't work out, I'd be studing at DLSU manila... AB Psychology

utterly defeated by the enemy not yet here...

2004-12-31T22:31:00.000+08:00

God, i'm depressed.
Maybe the tragedy that struck Asia is bothering me, subconsiously. But I hardly think about that, sorry. I'm so muddled up with my own affairs. Collage anxieties. Responsibilities. Expectations. Failure.

I just hear the SOO annoying noise of firecrakers set off by people who should be should have spent their money wisely. Do NOT damage the environment. Do NOT risk getting your fingers blasted. Do NOT ignore the millions of suffering people. Do NOT make noise! This has always aggravated me.

2005 would be dawning upon the cynical me in approximately 1hour, 28 minutes and 25 seconds as i type.
Christmas and New Year have lost their magic, gradually. I used to look forward to the holidays, not anymore though. During my first New Years, i had worn polka dot dresses - circles are supposedly lucky-, had jumped the exact second of the new year-you would allegedly grow taller, and had allowed myself to believe the funny supersitions my mother told me. Christmas was a bigger event. Presents are suspense, keeping you thrilled till the moment you gleefully open them.. Not anymore though. Sigh. My mother working in the kitchen preparing wonderful meals.
Of course, I welcome holidays, much needed breaks from school, which is beginning to tire me more and more.
I'm getting tired of everything. Am i really that old? Gosh, for a sixteen-year old- it doesn't excatly strike you as normal-me feeling nostalgic about childhood when I haven't fully escaped the clutches of natural naitivity (such a word?) of childhood.

Routine kills our enthusiasm for life. I had thought of that when I read Veronkia Decides to Die (by Paolo Coelho)back in third year. Loved the book. Subtle, pretty, loving prose, but sometimes a unforseen slap in the face (because it rings true). Paolo Coelho books are so nice. the way that they make you feel as if you're part of their journey to the character's self discovery. Everything you read is tentative, the character may eventually decide on something and find out that there are things more important than that. You see people grow. and in the process, you see yourself through that person, feeling the same things and thinking the same notions as she/he did. You grow too...

I think i had an anxiety attack earlier the night. I was in the bathroom, when i suddenly felt the urge to cry. I didn't, though. Curiously enough, i tried to understand why i wanted to cry. There i go, again, overanalyzing. I never analyze the stuff i'm supposed to analyze. Then, I just lost myself in the bush of options, never reaching an answer. I was lost in the perpetual hall of perptetual doors.. It left me muddled than ever before..

People usually look forward to the new year, anticipating it as another beginning, another chance to be the person they want to be.Not me though. Not anymore. I'm feeling so utterly negative that butterflies have taken my stomach as their permanent residence. I don't see opportunity. I don't see chance. I don't see hope. I just see distant things that would come crashing right in front of my face. I just see future disappointments. I just see my incompetence rubbing in my face, and scarring me forever. Sigh... Yeah, I look forward to that.

yesterday

2004-12-29T18:27:00.000+08:00

Bought four books yesterday. Intended to buy only three books: Inferno, Purgatorio and Paradiso by Dante (Publisher Barnes and Noble, specifically). Not one of the three bookstores went into carried any of the books. I got my heart set into buying those, hmmm... I acutually already have a copy of Inferno and Paradiso but those published by barnes and noble are prettier and more engaging to read. Instead I bought Brothers Karmazov by Fyodor Dostoyevsky (published by Barnes and Noble yey!), Republic by Plato (also publishec by B&N yey!), Dialoges by Plato, and Purgatorio (the only one i'm missing from divine comedy)... I thought of buying Republic and Dialogues after reading an excerpt from Willam Bennett's Book of Virtues (Section on Self-Discipline). But enough book talk.
Vaness, Mari and I were supposed to meet up with Bernice in the mall, only she wasn't anywhere to be found. We couldn't contact her because her cellphone was down and it sucked, really. Vaness was really down. Looked around for my books in two different bookstores in the mall. Security guards were curiously beside me both times... Do I look like a shoplifter? I haven't shoplifted my whole life.
Pissed off at the new Japanese restuarant we ate in. Waited for a bagazillion years before the food arrived, as it turned out the waiter/imbecile didn't write the order down. But hey, I shouldn't be calling people dumb even if they deserve them. So we ate, the food, which i couldn't eat. Bcause i hate moist and tender chicken- I doubt if it was cooked properly. and even if my friends assured me that it was, I still couldn't eat most of it... How the heck am i supposed to eat rice with chopsticks. It is so hard.
We went to another mall. And looked around the third, and final bookstore for the day. I bought my Brother's Karmazov there. Ate twister fries at mcdonalds, where Mari's (former?) crush and alumni of our school worked part-time). Discussion with friends about the uncomfortable crowd of the first mall and about attitudes towards money.
So, arrived home. Ate. Half bath. Toothbrush. Slept for 18 hours. Here I am now, feeling miserable because I was supposed to start reading the material for long-forgotten responsibilities hours ago, but i slept on it- including most of the day..
Will start reading now.

dead roses

2004-12-28T08:33:00.000+08:00

I like dead roses (especially the red, maroony ones). They're just marvelous. I even drew some in my old notebook/bank of trifles/journal. What was drawn looked like dead roses, and knowing my artistic talent- that's a wonder... Here are some of the things I wrote about dead roses in the notebook:

♣Title: "Dead roses from the crowd of corpse held up by the angel" (- Don't freak out. This just means my model was a big vase/sculpture of an angel holding up a bunch of (real) roses. My mother forgot to replace the flowers so, it all withered. The crowd of corpse was the dead flowers. I only drew two flowers (one fully-blossomed and the other a bud) because my next-to-none artistic talent can only stomach that much.

♣ "Ragged sheets of purple red bunched up by the hands of God and touched by Death, that poor infectious fellow... that bud who never got to blossm because God picked him out of the bush too early. He is the bud who withered young, whose immortalized image to those who view it is that of youth. He is the child mummy."

♣ "Dead roses are dead passions, forgotten loves. It withers. It dies. It's fleeting as time itself. Passion- it's a fire consuming itself. All you got after are ashes, and memories... romanticism is a lie. Because even roses wither and die."

And Mari, i know you're reading this. I'm shouting out a big HI! To you, it's like i'm the embarrassing friend, smiling and waving hysterically on you in national tv in the middle of a murder broadcast or something... Mouse, one reads this anyway, so its okay to mention CG... :)... CG...CG...CG...CG...CG... ( I mentioned your super secret, super embarrassing nickname! retaliate and make a blog of your own!)

stop meeeeeeee

2004-12-28T07:44:00.000+08:00

I was just eating breakfast and then it hit me--"hey, why not make a blog". I immediately left the table to make the blog and forgot I was still eating.. After a minute or so i remembered i still have stuff on my plate, so I go back and eat. Man, big eyebugs arn't the only thing wrong with me. I think i'm permanently spaced out.

The day before yesterday, I actually succeeded in sleeping like a normal person - during the night. And so, I thought I've broken the owl mode. See, when i'm in the "nocturnal mode", i can't just bring myself to sleep during normal sleeping hours- i'm just too active. What i have to do is to keep awake the whole day so by the time it's 7 - 10 pm (start of normal people sleeping hours) I'd be too tired and I'd just sleep off. But for it to work, All-nighters during school days are no problem, I can't sleep in class, anyway; and its mandatory I attend class; otherwise, my mother would scream till things come crashing down.

But enough of my short lived success story. I was watching tv last night while i was deluding myself I could do work done with the Divine Comedy script I supposed to do ages ago. {How do I fool myself everytime into believing I can concentrate with the tv on?! }. But then the boob tube seduced me into watching sitcom after sitcom. There's a reason why we keep a clock on top of the telly- to tell me I have failed, yet again.

But there's hope yet. I won't sleep today. I'm going shopping with friends. Yeah. Right. Like I had the money. erm, so... okay, I have the money, (it's christmas, people give money to the poor). But I'm a miser (or at least someone wanting to be one)... and i don't want to splurge... Noooooooo.... I have to save up for bigger and better things. Do not be enticed by those pretty sale signs on the bookstore, abby. Look away, look away...

Oh, maybe I could find some sort of nocturnals anonymous, or twelve step programs i could look into, or a support group... I can usually make the dracula schedule work for me during school days. It really could address my needs like enough sleep, quiet time... But it was Pammy who guilted me; this isn't normal; this will take toll on my body someday. I know will regret it...

Maybe I'd die like Percy Bysshe Shelley- young. I wouldn't have to worry about wrinkles, and
menopause, and midlife crisis and all those depressing things adults go through...

I am a kamikaze! gawd, plummeting myself to a slow, but sure, early death with all these bad habits! and i think my eye bugs are permanent. They'll serve as a lifelong punishment because i am She-Who-Did-Not-Care-For-Her-Body.

It's practically like Harriet Shelley is rolling her eyes at me. Scroll your screen a little lower and you'll know what I mean. Don't you roll your eyes at me, young lady! She's one of the immortalized youth. No image of old age to stain her portrait. (Only Percy's treachery, perhaps... hmph!)

harriet westbrook shelley

2004-12-26T23:26:00.000+08:00

I found this pretty portrait of Harriet Westbrook Shelley, the first wife of poet Percy Bysshe Shelley (who, by the way, resembles Hugh Grant). Mari, my great friend and my fellow nocturnal, and I had been chatting all night on a conversation that started with clark gable and ended up with ideas of travelling together to london to see the hotel where Harriet and Percy Bysshe spent the best of their marriage.. Here are some facts: Percy Bysshe Shelley eloped with Mary Shelley while Harriet was pregnant with their second child. After a couple of years Harriet had committed suicide by drowning herself in the Serpentine lake...

Percy Shelley subscribed to this idea of "free love" and she even suggested to Harriet that they arrange a menage a trois with Mary Wollenstone. Harriet refused so he ran off with then sixteen year old Mary. In her suicide note, she said that her best days were spent with him. She even forgave Percy and Mary. One site even said that her ghost still wanders about the hotel she and her husband spent their honeymoon...aww...

The thing that touches me most is the portrait. If you see with without knowing the miserable life the subject led, it has little impact to you. But if you do, you sort of feel her anguish seeping from the portrait. I can just imagine the portrait captured her contemplating her death, which came a moment after...

...must...have...self...control......

2004-12-25T01:46:00.000+08:00

Lookie here - a picture of John Lennon who also died on December {Hey, notice he has Harry Potter glasses?}

Six days from the beginning of another year- I decide to make my list of New Year’s Resolutions. Yeah, I know what an old tradition - but its one I have never conquered. So, if this coming year doesn’t work out like I’m planning, there’s always next year.
Yes, I know there is a chance that I may not even make it to 2006, because death comes when its least expected. Yep, though some people prefer not to think about it, death is such an intimate part of our lives. Hard not to think about it- with two-high profile funerals basking in the nation’s attention, five artists’ death, and my brother’s first year death anniversary all happening this merry month of December. What a jolly time {sarcastic}. But don’t get me started talking about death; I may not stop talking.
Lemme get back to that New Year’s Resolution list. This is actually the first time that I’m making it without anyone prodding me to make one. Why now? Because I’ve only just realized that I have absolutely no self control. Aristotle says practice is the only way to go. It’s scary envisioning myself a couple of years from now as a 250 pound mammoth, who knows nothing and who is usually seen with river of spit dripping from a side of my mouth. I have to take control of myself…Do…not…grab…that…cookie...argh… think…of…health…
Another thing, I should make conscious efforts to improve myself. I can’t be a bum for the rest of my life. And I really should start the habit of studying. It’s nice that I’m blessed with enough intelligence to pass school without much of an effort, but I shouldn’t be counting on my blessings. I should be counting on my efforts, instead.
Am I making sense?

nocturnal woes

2004-12-23T02:13:00.001+08:00

I have GOT to stop this madness.. Okay, see, every summer, christmas or sem-break (or whatever time there is away from school), i get into this nocturnal mode- i sleep when everybody's awake and i'm awake when everybody's sleeping... like owls, or tarsiers, or Dracula!

i used to think it was great because its:
1. unconventional (my quiet protest for individuality!)
2. i have the house resources to myself! (no competition with the tv or computer)
3. quiet times for myself, at last!

now, i want to stop because:
1. I'm starting to have these hallucinations (or are they really hallucinations? or messagees from the malevolent evil spirts?? {- see... i'm getting ridiculous!})
2. I'm starting to have nightmares (and i never get nightmares)
3. my friends are having a hard time trying to contact me

And the thought that I'm now creeped out by being alone in the middle of the night creeps me out. I swear i'm not the jumpy kind. I could sleep soundly after a movie marathon consisting of The Ring (english and japanese). The Eye, and The Grudge 1 and 2... and what's happening to me now? what? what??

lava lamp

2004-12-21T22:28:00.000+08:00

here's a picture of the lava lamp by brother Mark bought me about four years ago... I don't think i want to post another ridiculous picture of me here (besides the one in the bio). I am so not photogenic... either i'm taken at bizarre angles or my face is contorted.. it's funny, really, my sister-in-law used to tease me a lot about it.

ramblings of a sick (really) me

2004-12-21T18:40:00.000+08:00

my head hurts.. i think i'm going to have eye strain... aaoch.. do you think i should take some medicine- one of those naproxen sodium pills?
the simpsons episode today really sucked... i suspect it was one of earlier episodes, when the characters are not so defined, and the lines seem so... movey and indecisive... the early part of some long term works reek of questions and options.. but when its existence elongates (not the right word, but who the hell cares?), the characters begin to have a form of their own, the story-telling begins to attach itself to a particular style that when strayed away from would produce an uneasy feeling, that something-is-wrong feeling... familiarity is pertrubed...

i think that's why consistency is such an agreeable thing to most people... because we can follow it, in the sense that we can understand it without much of an effort trying the decipher over and over again the writer's style... what about unpredictability? a lot of people are afraid of it. some people crave it in their lives, perhaps sick of being met of the same things over and over again... but probably only a few would want it to be a permanent arrangement (doesn't is strike you ironic that being unpredictable all the time is being predictable... that you can be predicted to be unpredictable?)

am i making sense? well, it doesn't matter. i feel too sick to check for errors. To hell with being right.

first

2004-12-20T01:02:00.000+08:00

So what about this blog site? I guess, I'm just trying to prove something to myself... That I can conquer the fear of voicing out my opinions.
I'll admit i'm not all that hot letting strangers into my deep, dark, closet 'o' secrets... I'm actually an introvert, most of my ideas, my paranoia, swim in glee inside my head, never seeing the light of day. Hey, you have to conquer fears! at least this way, i can rest in the cool shade of anonymity.
In case you're thinking i'm a pale, bizarre girl with my hair strewn all over my face - maybe like a Gothic Carrie (by Stephen King) + Sadako/Samara (from The Ring) look- I'm really not. I do have friends, and the my clothes are not all black, my mother is not a crazy Puritan, and I have no supernatural powers, like the ability to crawl creepily out of tv's...
Remember that i said I'm an introvert -my close friends would not have agreed. Truth to the matter is, there's another part of me that screams to be let out- hmm... maybe she's the pale weirdo (beause she never sees the sun, I never let her out). This would be her playground.