Muffled Chatterbox

Be Ma Leh?

2009-06-10T21:53:00.000+08:00

“Where are you?!”

That’s the nth time I’ve been asked that question from the nth person who wondered why the streets of Davao is suddenly less than a hundred decibels noisy and then to find out that I’m actually missing in the picture. Yes, I’m probably somewhere scattering chaos and plotting world domination, but really, WHERE AM I NOW?

Well, the last time I checked, I woke up this morning to a place about ten thousand miles away from home, beneath yellow clouds and murders of crow perched up on electric wires, before a country torn by turmoil, tribal diversity, and religious disparity.

Sure, four months has been a long time and I do terribly miss the blue-tinted glass walls of Ateneo. I even feel like waking up late only to hang around the school grounds. But sadly, I don’t have the luxury to lag around and goof all day. That’s because I have something to do – wake up early, go to work, and at least try to create a difference in the lives of the people I meet here in Myanmar.

It’s funny, really, how I ended up here. See, I was never this straight-A student back in college. In fact, I don’t remember being a responsible student at all. I always find ways to make the most of the allowable absences quota in every subject. I never lifted a finger to study and the midnight oil still remains full to the brim. Nevertheless, if there is one thing I made up for my laxity in academics, it’s my involvement in school. I was part of club this and club that. Though my membership purpose is not for grade matters and extra-curricular what-have-yous, I joined these clubs because I don’t want a lone SAMAHAN stamped under my affiliations list on the school yearbook. Shallow as it may seem, I joined clubs for the purpose of having a club. But karma strikes faster than you thought it could be. Before I knew it, the clubs that were supposed to be “under my mercy” got hold of the steering wheel and had the upper hand. I soon found myself loving the clubs and defending it to all its detractors. I’ve spent money, time, and tons and tons of effort for them – things I never considered doing for my academics. I’ve traveled hundreds of miles from Davao to attend a debate tournament, I’ve stayed up late in school to finish a backdrop for Division Day, I’ve been rooted to one booth during fiesta to do Henna Tattoos, I’ve been an official “yaya” for the hosts of Awitenista, I’ve interviewed one of the university’s big-shot men for the school publication, and I’ve sacrificed one day off my weekends to watch over sophomore kids as they venture out in their NSTP adventures.

The NSTP Volunteer Pool – as I contemplate about it now, my NSTP experience is one of the major push factors that brought me to where I currently am. Like all my other clubs, I joined the volunteer group program for NSTP so that I could have a long list of organizations in my yearbook profile. It also helped that NSTP gives away free shirts. I never expected that we’re given allowances so imagine my shock (and sublime happiness) when I learned about it. As volunteer in the program, I’ve learned a lot of things, been to many places, established friendships with great people, and unknowingly embraced the values the Ateneo has long been teaching its protégés. Had I known that being a volunteer includes virtuous side-effects, I would’ve never joined. Haha, I kid.

Seriously, joining the NSTP volunteer group is easy; doing the job effectively is another matter. For one, there’s a huge difference between an NSTP volunteer and a real NSTP volunteer.

It’s easy to be a mere volunteer; all you need is a boring Saturday schedule, an application form, and an interview. On the other hand, the real NSTP volunteer gives a new meaning to the word “assisting”. She does not just go around loitering in the area and hovering above second year students. She knows that her job is not limited to listing the attendance and claiming allowance. She is not defined by her colored NSTP shirt with a VOLUNTEER print stenciled in the bottom left part, nor is she marked such just because she’s older and has “graduated” from the program. The real NSTP volunteer is not just another jaded student who has got nothing to do with her free time; she is a friend, a sister, a mentor, and a learner.

Here, she enters a stage of metamorphosis where she is coerced to understand and accept that there’s a bigger, and often more cruel, world than bad hair days, broken friendships, taken crushes, and lost cellular phones. She is forced to look into the less colorful segments of a kaleidoscopic world with both eyes open. She has in her shoulders the responsibility not only of taking care forty-five young people and making sure they would not get hurt or would not hurt anyone or anything on the way. She has to make sure that they would, if not learn; acknowledge the idea of looking at the ugly face of reality without turning their back or turning a blind eye. Here, she is compelled to grow up.

Too much drama, eh? Hehe. But honestly, it is difficult to be a real NSTP volunteer. SICO didn’t orient us about all these values for it is already assumed that in joining the NSTP volunteer pool, you are already aware of such. But you do know that assumptions usually turn up contrary to what we expect, right?

Take me for example; my sole purpose for joining the pool is the yearbook. I know nothing about such values. But having all those Saturdays with my great NSTP partner, brilliant students, and wonderful townsfolk, I’d be the biggest liar if I say that this noble-doing didn’t grow on me. I haven’t been a mere volunteer; but I’m not a real NSTP volunteer either. I never got there. I cannot say that I’ve instigated strong values of compassion to all my students to last them a lifetime. But that’s the beauty of learning things through experience: knowing that even with the length and amount of efforts you’ve sacrificed, your job is not yet done. :D

So, where am I again?
I’m on the road to changing the world.

For those who sorta missed my noise, cheer up! I’ll bring you a betel leaf when I return. =))

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Yesh my dears, I'm back in blogspot. A heartfelt thanks to the great wonder that is vtunnel. >:]

Proven and Tested Street Food bow

2009-03-11T01:07:00.005+08:00

Proven. Pruben. Proben. Provent.

Matagal nang palaisipan sa akin kung ano ang tamang spelling at kung saang parte ba talaga ng ng manok makikita ang proven/pruben/proben. Basta ang alam ko, hindi ito balat tulad ng pagaakala ng nakararami.

At malamang, hindi lang ako ang nagtataka. Minsan ay natanong yan sa akin ni Tere.
Tere: Ate Bam, ano tawag dito?
Ako: Proven. Chicken Proven.
Tere: Ha? Bakit?
Ako: Kasi Proven and Tested Dirty.

Oo, nagjoke ako pero hindi dun natapos ang lahat. Hindi mapapalagay ang loob ko kung hindi ko malalaman ang tamang kasagutan. Kung kaya ako ay nagresearch kung ano ba talaga ang kasaysayan ng street food na yan.

At ayon nga sa aking pananaliksik, ang chicken proven/pruben/provent ay piniritong proventriculus. Ang proventriculus ay pre-requisite para masali sa tropa ng mga Avian (birds). In short, kung wala kang proventriculus, hindi ka papasang ibon/manok/pato/gansa blah blah blah. Maihahawig sa stomach ng mga mammals ang proventriculus. Ang proventriculus (tawagin na nating proven dahil napapagod na akong itype ang buong pangalan nito) ay ang glandular na bahagi ng digestive system ng ibon. Meron itong mga cells na siyang lumilikha ng hydrochloric acid, pepsin, mucus at iba pang digestive enzymes na siyang tutunaw sa pagkain.

Ang proventriculus ang nag-uugnay sa balunbalunan (gizzard) at esophagus ng mga ibon.

Makakatulong ang mga links na ito kung mayroon pa kayong mga nais hanapin na kasagutan ukol sa katawan ng mga ibon:

http://fsc.fernbank.edu/birding/digestion.htm
http://www.epa.qld.gov.au/nature_conservation/wildlife/caring_for_wildlife/carers_kit/birds/biology/?

Haha! Chuy noh? :p

What’s wrong with the TWILIGHT FAD and why?

2008-12-15T14:06:00.000+08:00

I’ve read a few chapters of the book and I’ve watched the movie. So I think it’s fair that I give my opinions about this Twilight fad.

I only have to scan the whole book to know what it’s all about. It’s a friggin’ love story! It’s a love story with vampire characters. Not the other way around. I’m not into the love stories genre so you can say that I’m biased against Meyer’s book. Hehehe. But then again, taken from the opinion of people who’ve read the book, I can say that Twilight, basically, is a light read. A LIGHT READ. So it’s quite obvious how it gathered such a large fan base. Love at first sight, happily ever-afters, “I can’t live without you” lines, and damsel in perennial distress. Haha. Sounds like FAIRY TALE to me.

It’s a sad fact that a lot of people are in love with the notion of being in love. An even sadder fact is that most girls dream about princes (or in this case, vampires) who would sweep them off their feet and proclaim undying love for them amidst all the odds they have to face. It’s sad. Unbelievably and irrevocably sad. It’s as if getting hitched is a be-all-end-all situation.

The girls (and if you want, boys) drooling/wanting/yearning/dreaming/screaming for an Edward Cullen remind me of girls who still dreams about a prince that would carry them on his palace and make her happy for the rest of her life. GAWD. Though Meyer had the twist better as EC is portrayed as a "monster" who is willing to give up his "monstrosity" for the girl "he wants to be with forever". And that's popping two dream bubbles with one stick: girls dreaming of turning a BAD GUY into a HERO and of course the highly-glorified happy ever after.

And though I may be over-analyzing things a bit, this “I-should-have-my-own-prince” mentality subconsciously creates a stigma of discrimination against women who opt to be single. It's as if they're the most pitiful creatures on earth. Very Anti-Feminist, bah.

Also, I think that Twilight's expanding fangirls base has been detrimental to the credibility of the book in itself. The idea that a book meant for "light reading" has been sensationally-acclaimed and tagged by some highly-appreciative people as "better than Rice!" and "the best vampire book they've ever read!" has caused raised eyebrows within the elite circle of intellectual readers. I mean, you can (and you should) NEVER compare Meyer's books with Anne Rice's. That would be scandalous.

In a way, Twilight reminds me of the Tagalog Precious Hearts Romance "Novels" my high school classmates used to ~~read~~ devour. Thus, it is a sappy, mushy, corny, and cheesy story for readers like me. Me, mE, ME. [Emphasis needed to highlight the concept of OPINION.]

But then again, we shouldn't expect ALL people to enjoy reading the likes of Hemingway, Golding, Thoreau, Hawthorne, or Tolstoy. We would always, ALWAYS have our own preferences. In as much that renowned novelists deserve respect for their books, we should also give Meyer the respect that she deserves.

Now, will you fangirls stop babbling about your Cullen obsession? It's been getting on everybody's nerves in case you haven't noticed.

I love six girls >:)

2008-11-22T14:27:00.005+08:00

And they are studying in Ateneo de Davao. One of them is a Philosophy major. Another is a Political Science student. And the other four are future Economists.

Last night, one of them celebrated her birthday. Even if she was born November 22.

I can't wait for our graduation. I'm counting that one of them would deliver our batch's valedictory address. Five of them would snatch either cum laude or magna cum laude. But I put my bets on the latter. What do I know, they might even get summa cum laude.

We've been together for four years. And those four years are all I need to compensate for all the things I've gone through way back in grade school and high school.

Four great years...

And counting. :)

Proper YM manners YOU ought to know

2008-10-05T18:49:00.001+08:00

1. Never add people whom you don’t have any intentions to talk with. DUH. It’s a waste of time, a waste of space, and a waste of memory for the Yahoo Messenger Application.

2. Stop whining if I haven’t accepted your invitation. Seriously, I don’t add people I don’t know in my YM. What do I know you’re just another lonely Arab looking for someone he can share his webcam fantasies with.

3. Do not PM people about irrelevant things if you see that their status icon is BUSY paired with a message that says THESIS/PROJECT/RESEARCH. Duh. Have some brains, will you?

4. Never start a conversation with a BUZZ especially if you are not friends with the person. By friends, I mean those people whom you have shared your worst moments with, those you can share one straw with, those who have smelled your fart more than five times, those whom you passed paper messages with about the unbearable burden of having a toenail-looking professor, those who know you PERSONALLY and those you consider your GOOD FRIEND. You get the picture. People who start conversations with a buzz are BASTOS. Nag-aral ka ba?

5. Say goodbye properly to someone you are talking with if you plan to log-out. I think this is rather self-explanatory. For goodness sake! You are not Kindergarten pupils!

To the Lit gods...

2008-09-10T13:23:00.007+08:00

There are crumpled papers on the wastebasket. Tattered pages scattered all over the floor. The pen waits. And I'm sitting here, staring blankly across space. The monotonous creaking of the ceiling fan are jumbled notes that adds up to the disheveled feel of my messy room.

The clock's hand completed its route for the seventy-seventh time. See? I've been counting. I've been waiting...

Waiting for the words to come.

I remember before, they would come to me on unearthly hours. Crooning me to sleep. Or sometimes, jerking me awake from the comforts of my slumber. Time and time again, they would wait until early dawn. When the spilt ink of the night sky streams back to the impalpable flask where it came from. Sometimes, they ride along the back of golden sunbeams and would come knocking on my window pane.

They've been doing that for fifteen summers. Where are they now?

I'm wondering...

Maybe they grew tired. They grew tired from our little trysts. Sudden trysts. Over cups of coffee and sprawled pillows. They grew tired of the rainy afternoons, boring Sundays, faked smiles, and teardrops. Maybe they are tired of being etched emotions. Mostly of frustrations and melancholy.

I'm still waiting...

Tell them I would change the color of my pillowcase. I would play happy tunes on my guitar. I would keep the windows open. I'll be waiting for them to come back. Tell them I'd be happy. Or at least, I'll try.

Tell them, I'll wait. Please.

Of Candles and Courage

2008-08-25T11:18:00.005+08:00

August 20-22, 2008
Senior's retreat
In St. Charles Borromeo Retreat House

This reading is taken from my journal notebook.

"As a child, I was trained to be happy and contented. Given stones or diamonds, both way, I'd be happy. I was taught to write all the things I like in a notebook. Then, I would crash out those things that I have lost liking to. Usually, at the end of the month, the pages of the notebook wold be tattered from all the scratching out and erasures. It was only now that I realized that my grandmother has taught me the notion of "dwindling marginal utility" way before my first Economics subject in college.

Yes, I grew up learning that virtue. Something only few people could ever learn and LIVE WITH. Learning that YOU CAN NEVER have all that you want. And that, you MUST NOT GET all that you want because there are a lot of people who NEED it more than you can WANT it.

Maybe I am just providing reasons for my laxity, but then again, maybe not. I cried while throwing away the "coins" for "excelling in school" because truth be known, I miss walking on the stage, receiving medals, and topping the class. I want to excel. But I am happy and contented with my grades. I know, I know. I do not lift a finger to study, I ~~cut~~ shred class, I'm freezing my eyebrows, and I'm living the Juan Tamad life, but I still get good grades. Maybe not the pre-defined "good" that my parents used to get. But it's not bad. And I'm happy with that. Until, of course, today.

I realized that, yes, I'm happy. But I CAN BE HAPPIER. There are things I want that I do not pursue. Actually, if I only WANT to DO SO, I can do EVERYTHING. It's just that, I'm afraid to take risks. Especially for myself.

I do not give myself the chance to be happier. Because I am scared.

Courage. I don't have it. And it's funny how I endured nineteen years of existence without having that up my sleeve. Or maybe, the safety and security that my family and friends provide me compensate for my lack of courage.

But then again, I realized that I have to make myself move. I have to learn how to be HAPPIER. I have to STEP OUT OF MY COMFORT ZONE. Because I know, even if I'm a foot away from them, they would always watch for me and help me stand up in case I trip on my own feet.

Fear is what hinders people in achieving their dreams. Fear of failing. Fear of not being good enough. There are those brave enough to chase after their ambitions, but some of them give up even before attaining their dreams. They stumble, they trip, they fall down. And then, they get scared of standing up again. Some are afraid of settling for less than what they wanted that's why they set the parameters that are easier to reach. They are scared to be "ambitious".

As I look at it, there are no such thing as "being ambitious". After all, it is normal to desire or want something. Dreams can be fulfilled. Dreams are meant to be fulfilled. As Kokoi puts it, dreams come to us. Stars fall. Maybe not now, but eventually, they will. All we have to do is wait patiently and be prepared to catch them when they fall.

Waiting for the stars to fall is not easy. The night is dark and the wind is cold. We have to fight back the fear so as to last until morning. We have to fill up our heart with courage. Like a dank room being lit up by one small candle.

Speaking of candles. Have you ever wondered why candles exist? Even with today's age of light bulbs and neon lights, there would always be candles for people. Isn't it amazing how a little candle could give a sense of comfort and warmth?

Seeing this room, with the lights turned off and candles scattered all across the floor, gives an unexplainable feeling of calmness and joy. I see Kim staring at the candle instead of writing. Maybe Justin is finished with his journal because he is playing with the candle. And as I look at my candle, candlewax sprawled over the rim of the glass and flames flickering against the dark, I knew.

We enjoy looking at candles because it reflects the gentleness of our souls. The meekness and humility of our spirit.

The candle melts not because it is on fire. But rather, because it holds the fire. It melts as it gives out light. It melts as it fulfills its purpose. A candle is not a candle if it would stay the same amidst burning throughout the night.

In its melting and giving of itself for the help of others, its value and essence is shown."

Thanks for reading, my precious candle. =)

Tide Eraser bar, Anyone?

2008-08-06T03:14:00.005+08:00

I am soooo rusty. What have I been doing for the past 6 months? Shocks. this blog has been deserted for months. My feature-writing skills needs honing. I don't debate anymore. I'm SHREDDING classes. And I sleep late! WHAT HAVE I BEEN DOING?

Oh well. At least I can still play DOTA and Wendy is still alive.

But then again, WHAT HAPPENED TO ME?

TIDE ERASER BAR!

SCRUB ME! SCRUB ME! SCRUB ME ANYONE! And my soul is yours.

Isang Power Bomb lang pala ang katapat nun...

2008-05-18T04:24:00.000+08:00

Lessons in New Jersey

Hay...

Isang libong beses na akong bumubuntong-hininga
kasabay sa bawat impit na
tinig ng gitarang hindi pa natotono.

Ang gitarang nakasilid sa gusgusing kaha
na siyang nakasandig sa bintanang salamin ng silid
kung saan ko pinakawalan ang aking unang buntong-hininga para sayo.

Ang buntong-hininga na dati'y naguudyok sa mga
hindi nahahagkang paru-paro na magsayawan sa aking sikmura.
Mga paru-parong ngayo'y nagwawala na.

Nagwawala. Mawawala
sa oras na ihikbi ko ang huli kong buntong-hininga
para sayo.

"Swimming against the current is a piece of cake."

2008-04-10T16:06:00.003+08:00

For my sister that is.

She is now officially looking for her place in the world. She bade goodbye to high school last month and is currently course hunting for college. She's been pestering (hehe) me with her probable courses since January. Which course to choose? I taught her the steps in knowing your ideal course. Knowing your Interests and Strengths. She despises Accountancy and Nursing to the bones, for reasons I do not know myself. She says that those are the "courses ng bayan" but I have this inkling that she hates those because her classmates would be enrolling on the said programs. And trust me, the I-dont-want-to-be-part-of-the-crowd attitude runs in our blood.

She hates English but she's sooooooo good in Filipino (as if it matters). She likes computers and MONEY. We drafted her chosen courses, gradually crashing some until we ended with Information Technology and Agriculture.

And since we're looking for practical (and money-inducing programs), we placed our bets on Agriculture. It has been neglected for some years now, but it still remains as one of the most profitable industry there is. Like duh. Philippines is topographically destined to be agriculture-friendly.

I really thought that we are finished with the course-hunting business until TODAY. Lo and behold, she texted me again. And here is how our conversation went:

HER: Kaka Mot, maganda ba ang course na BS Chem? Kasi sabi ng tito ni Auntie Liza maganda daw yun. KONTI LANG ANG KUMUKUHA. Alam mo yung Liguasan Marsh? Kasi sa oras daw na mahukay yung oil dun, mga chemists ang makikinabang. And kasi diba Agri man ang course ko, parang pareho din dun kasi mag-Agri Chem man ako. Ano man? Maganda ang BS Chem?

HUH!? Agri chem!? Where did that come from?

ME: AGRI CHEM na lang kunin mo kesa BS Chem. Oo, Chemists ang makikinabang kung mahukay ang Liguasan Marsh. Eh ang tanong, KELAN NAMAN KAYA MAHUHUKAY YUN? Baka uugod-ugod ka na pag nangyari yun. Isa pa, mahirap kunin ang Chem kasi walang sure na trabaho. Ikaw? Gusto mo ba MAGTURO ng chem sa mga highschoool? Kung agri kunin mo, mas maraming opportunities. maganda ang chem kung LALAKE ka. Kasi hindi tumatanggap ang mga pabrika ng babae na chemists. Mahirap talaga sya. Agri chem na lang at least, sure shot na yun. MAPAKINABANGAN MO PA ANG LUPA NATIN. Yan ang advice ko pero nsa sayo ang desisyon. *evil smile*

HER: Bakit, ano ang lamang ng Agri Chem sa BS Chem?

ME: Ang Chem, STRICTLY ABOUT CHEMISTRY YAN. Ang AGRI CHEM, about agricultural production. ung pagprocess ng raw food into food products. Chemistry at Bio na pinaghalo. Ang genetics, yan ung maghalo ka ng seeds para makabuo ng bagong breed. Alam mo ung hybrid na mais? yan ung produkto ng magagaling na agri geneticists. Ang hybrid na mais ay di tulad ng ordinary mais na madali lang mapeste. Sa genetics, magexperiment ka at maghalo-halo ng mga breed ng tanim. Okay yun. Scientist ang dating. Teka, bakit napasok ang Chem? Magaling ka daw ba sa Chem? hehe...

HER: Ewan ko. Mas mahusay ako sa math. PROMISE. Lahat ng exam ko, Math ang mas mataas. Kaso nabobored ako sa math. Wala akong interes. Hehe. Anong mas maganda, Chem o Genetics? Parang mas trip ko ang Genetics. hehe. May Genetics ba ang Chem? Kasi kung meron, yun na lang kunin ko.

ME: Actually men, hindi ko alam. hehehe.. Tingnan mo sa prospectus ng Agri Chem kung may Genetics. O kaya magtanong ka mismo sa USM. Langya ka! Mukha ba akong Agriculturist!?

HER: Parang cool pakinggan yung Genetics eh.

ME: Ikaw bahala. hehe. Tingin ko rin okay yung genetics. Pero mahirap Yun. Kasi ang thesis nyo, itry mo ung seeds na ginaawa mo. Itanim mo sila tapos dapat okay ang kinalabasan. hehe.. Ay tama! mag AGRICULTURAL ENGINEERING KA NA LANG! MAGALING KA MAN KAYA SA MATH! Yan baya ang course ni Papang.

HER: Kaka mot, makabored ba yan? Walang practicum? Gusto ko kasi yung maraming practicum, yung nagatravel or yung parang genetics, hehe. Alam mo naman ako, ayokong nagdurusa ang mga brain cells ko dahil lamang sa mga gurong hindi marunong magturo. Marami bang opportunities ang Agri Genetics?

ME: Maganda ang Agri Eng. hehe. Math! Alam mo, mainis ka lang sa practicum kasi ang practicum ng agri, based on nature. Lalo na at uso ang climate change ngayon, maiinis ka lang kasi ine-expect mong umaraw tapos biglang uulan. Mas practical ang wala masyadong practicum. :) Pwede ba! Pumunta ka na lang ng USM at dun ka magtanong. Adik ka. hehe.. Bakit ba kasi hindi ka na lang mag-Nursing. Ahahahahaha!

HER: Tse! Wag na noh. O siya, siya. Tama na ang text. wala na akong load pangreply sa Chikka mo! Magpaload ka nga para hindi maubos ang load ko!

ME: Ikaw ang may kailangan, ikaw ang magtiis! Bleh! Hahaha! Labyu men! :p

Migawd! GENETICS? CHEMISTRY? MATH?

SHE IS CRAZY.

We're standing on the opposite ends of a pole.

I wonder why I love her still. Haha!

Of the movie Unfaithful, marriage, and them anti-feminists

2008-03-14T16:01:00.009+08:00

Yadda-yadda. My brain is temporarily fogged and I'm not in the mood to write. But since I need to update my blogger, I copied and pasted this from my Theology reaction paper. The post may seem too pro-marriage and sacrosanct; but it isn't. (It's a Theo paper. Bear with me) It's a rant, anyway. And that means, you can rant back. Cheers to opinions. :)

Infidelity is an issue too common to be side-swept even in a relatively liberal country like the United States of America, more so in a comparatively conservative nation like the Philippines. The movie Unfaithful talks about infidelity in an otherwise perfect marriage. Contrary to the usual scene of a man having illicit affairs with other women, the tables had turned and the movie tells a story of a woman who had been unfaithful to her husband. This change of situation created a ruckus in the mainstream movie industry; thus, catapulting the movie into the box-office charts.

Even if the context is on liberal USA, the situation of a woman sneaking up against her husband is deemed antagonistic in nature. Through a feminist lens, we see that people, even in liberal countries, make it to a point that any infidelity centered on the work of a woman is worse than that of a man’s. If the United States finds this situation tricky and insulting, how much more would it be if put into the Philippine context?

As stated on Article 97, Title IV on Legal Separation of Republic Act 386, otherwise known as An Act to Ordain and Institute the Civil Code of the Philippines, any woman who is suspected, accused, or proven of sleeping with another man aside from her husband, is committing the act of adultery. Whereas, if a man, even if he is having affairs or is financially-supporting a mistress, is not to be accused of adultery, but of concubinage, if and only if, he is proven to cohabitate with the said other woman. This law in itself shows the inequity and unfairness in disseminating justice as opposed to gender diversity, may it be moral or otherwise.

I do not concede with the notion of infidelity. I believe that it is immoral, by virtue of the Church. However, the fact that society oftentimes expands the whole issue through feminization of sins makes the law of the state and the virtue of the Church run on great risk. The usual situation goes like this: if a woman gets involved in illicit affairs, she is antagonized on two levels. One, by the society, as society has this stereotype of a “bad woman” as someone who doesn’t get contented with her life and her loving husband that’s why she goes out with other men. Society takes it as a big blow on a man’s pride if his wife is unfaithful to him. Two, the woman is alienated by the law as law provides mere suspicion as a premise of an argument for adultery. On the other side of the coin, affairs by men aren’t considered out of the norms as it usually adds up to the machismo of every male being.

In this alone, you see the discrimination given to women. I do not say that women should commit adultery as men are subconsciously permitted by law and society to do such. What I want to happen, is for BOTH men and women to keep from committing adultery. Providing equity for both sexes does not require raising the bar of expected aggravation to the same level, but rather putting down an established domineering control over the other gender.

In the movie, it came into my thinking that divorce, or annulment (in the Philippine context) would have been a better way for the husband to deal with the situation rather than kill his wife’s lover. At least, divorce is by far of less weight than homicide. Yes, I do know that divorce is not allowed in the Church. But so does infidelity.

Which begs the question, why is there a need for divorce and annulment if infidelity is non-existent? I believe that before people start weighing the pros and cons of nullifying the virtue and sacrament of marriage through annulment, they should at least be sure that they are free of infidelity.

Infidelity is something that does not exist in a vacuum. It should not take its form depending on race, gender, or age. Infidelity demands justice. Justice that is to be served regardless of any categorization. After all, marriage is sacred. It should not be tampered or tarnished on its stages, may it be early or late. It should not be tampered at all.

---

Gawd. I can be too saintly if I want to. Haha! Anyway, the semester is over so I think it would be safe to say that I do not really believe in the notion of marriage. Ahaha! I do not see myself happily married someday. I wonder why people see marriage as a be-all-and-all concept. It's as if ending up as a spinster is the worst thing there is. Mygedness. Swim against the 'effing traditionalist current, losers.

10 ways to scare a Korean

2008-02-25T16:34:00.002+08:00

Last night, me and my cousin Adeng (the devil in its purest form) decided to hang/pig out. We wasted at least 200 pesos for mere transportation from ADDU to Matina, to shrine hills, back to Matina, and finally back home. 50Php per ride. If you wonder how we ended up wasting huge sums of cash, that is because I cannot stop my cousin from riding air-conditioned taxis. She said that she's conditioned to do such things. She's the one paying for the fare so I just let her be HER. Haha!

The Petrifier and The Modifier

Moving on, we ended at Taboan on MTS for dinner. The place was relatively deserted save from a pack of male Koreans. A pack of noisy male Koreans. Blame hunger (or our distraught minds and nature), because we tried to take our ethnocentrism yardstick a notch higher than usual. And YOU know that ethnocentrism often works in a zero-sum way: love for own country is tantamount to non-love for a foreign country.

Everything is going well for the first few minutes, the Koreans happily conversing/babbling/guffawing in their own native tongues while me and my cousin laughing dementedly as we enumerated reasons why Korea is not a good place to live in. Everything goes in the spirit of PURE, INNOCENT FUN. (hehe..)

Until, two other Koreans came and sat in the table near us. Amidst the loud music, I hear the squeaking of the monobloc chair and the one degree per second changing of direction of the two newcomers. I nudged my cousin and warned her about the incoming catastrophe. And sure does, one of them asked if they can sit with us.

To cut the story short, my cousin and me survived the encounter. I think that my grammar is still okay (i wish, i wish, i wish) and that I can still construct a good sentence. We didn't give our two new friends a hard time, any way. In fact, we are very accommodating and friendly AND diplomatic. We even waved them goodbye (with our tongues wagging and our laughter a pitch higher.. KIDDING) when we took the cab home.

After the remarkable experience, we decided that it would be better if we know how to control the situation, granting that it would happen to us again. Getting distracted is probably one of the worst things that can happen to you, especially if you are in the middle of doing something you're really really interested at (like boosting your nationalistic side).

For that, I share to you ten fool-proof ways to scare Koreans (if you DON'T want to get distracted) so that they may leave you (and your language) in peace.

1. Tell them that you live in the mountains.
2. And that you have a battered panda for a pet.
3. Use the words apparently, juxtapose, compartmentalized, and paramount.
4. Use the words apparently, juxtapose, compartmentalized, and paramount... IN ONE SENTENCE.
5. Say that you're from a military school.
6. But they kicked you out because of your turbulent behavior. (Tips: say this in a matter-of-fact fashion. You can even add "well, that's how life is" accompanied with your sweetest smile.)
7. Tell them that one of your MOST REVERED ancestors went to Korea during 1890's.
8. Introduce your ancestor as Lieutenant General Miura Goro of the Imperial Japanese Army. (Tips: laugh like a demented hyena after saying this)
9. Tell them you have a basement full of flesh-eating plants...
10. And that Charice Pempengco has lost her way there.

PS. All things written here are based on my reality and is created for the spirit of pure innocent fun. Don't take things seriously. If you can't get away with your judgment, better yet create your own blog post. Besides, WHO TOLD YOU TO BE HERE? =)

At dahil Buwan ng Mga Puso...

2008-02-11T15:25:00.000+08:00

Para ito sa mga nagmahal, nagmamahal, magmamahal pa. Para sa lumuha at lumuluha. Para sa naiwan at nang-iwan. Para kay Ninay. At kay Jrr.)
Apat na buwan at mga patak ng luha

Four months
After I first saw you.
You, with your goofy smile.
You, standing near the counter
of the convenience store.
Looking at me with curious eyes.
I knew right there and then.
I had fallen.

It was four months
of sweet company.
I, waking up early so I would
be the first one to greet you
good morning.
I, walking with you home.
Funny.
I don't really like waking up early
and walking.
But I like doing them for you.

Four months
happened unlike any other
stories I've known.
My memories are filled of you
and me
watching mounds of dvd,
sharing jokes only the
two us find funny,
pinching your arms, squeezing your hand.
Even without constant reminders
And even if w don't look like lovers,
We know.
We love.

Four months
of being with you.
I feel nothing of those feelings
romance novels narrate.
No fast heartbeats, no tingling sensation everytime we touch,
no green-eyed moments.
No euphoria.
Just happy. Contented.
REAL. Alive.

Four months.
A complete season.
You ask me about a song you like.
I sing them for you, and
you smile broadly.
Our pen and paper sketches
remind me how our lives touched.
Not like knots tied tightly together,
but like the steady trace of ink
on paper.
Lightly,
but permanently etched.

For a quarter of a year,
I haven't realized
that I loved like I never had before.
Love without realizing it
until it hurts.
It scars.

I don't want to.
But I need to.
I need to fight the urge of talking to you.
Stop before I retrace my steps back to you.

Four months are over.
I feel my heart losing its pace.
You look at me
Through misty eyes.

You're so beautiful it's so hard to say goodbye.

Amen. I'm Alive.

2008-02-05T16:56:00.000+08:00

Note: I don't really intend to blog until this weekend, but then again, it would take a lot of will power if I would want to save what I'm feeling right now for three more days or so. I'll write this without thinking about the words. Straight to the point. No sugar-coated lies. This may be my most sincere post yet.

A while ago, while browsing through YouTube, I tried searching for videos of artists I had developed a liking to. And after an hour of watching numbers of vids, I got stuck with Nickelback's If Everyone Cared MV.

The song hit me. Hard. I didn't even realize that I'm already crying. Have you already experienced the feeling wherein you feel as if a clamp is gripping your heart? Squeezing it until you can't breath. And then, tears would instantaneously well up in your eyes. That's exactly how I can put into words what I felt. Guilt. Funny, eh? Even if I know that I haven't done something wrong. I feel like I am directly involved in what is happening with the world today.

Do you know that Kenya is currently on the verge of civil war? If the clash between Odinga and Kibaki’s controversial presidential election issue continues, there is a huge propensity that Kenya would be hosting the next massive genocide in Africa after the incident in Rwanda on 1994. Congo, by far, still holds the record for the most cases of sexual violence in the world. The prevalence of tribal wars is growing. It's a new hype. Ethiopia is infested with nothing except poverty and flies. All these have happened, are happening, and will continue to happen in Africa.

Africa. AGAIN. I know that a lot of people get irritated with the Africa issue. I can’t blame them. I felt that way before.

Before, I thought that large part of Africa is home to wild animals. I thought that the savannahs are rarely visited by people. This is what those encyclopedias and books taught me. Until today. Now, I know that Africa is not just a continent with beautiful safaris, it’s a large puzzle; divided by ethnicity, politics, government, and class.

Sometimes, I feel that I want to go back in time. Back when I was a child. Wherein, my notion of the world is perfect. Wherein I thought that the San can live and drink by digging holes on the ground. Wherein I thought that Africans really have ostriches for pets. A time when a wild lion is the greatest threat a tribesman can encounter.

Sometimes, with all the realizations and realistic concepts plaguing our mind, we forget to imagine and to believe.

I remember the time when I questioned the feasibility of the Millennium Development Goals of the United Nations. I came close to thinking that it's irrationally impossible.

And as always, I realized at the end of the day that, oftentimes, it was after all reality which coerces people to be idealistic. The nature of idealism is to promulgate and spread the seeds of optimism to everyone.

"Ambitious but possible."

Indeed. Maybe, as long as there are people who are NOT AFRAID TO CARE. As long as there are people who get inspired and do their own little share.
---

Anyway, I got this from Ate Ychel. A wish for you in 2008.

My Wish for You in 2008

May peace break into your house and may thieves
come to steal your debts. May the pockets of your jeans become a magnet of $100
bills. May love stick to your face like Vaseline and may laughter assault your
lips! May your clothes smell of success like smoking tires! May happiness slap
you across the face and may your tears be that of joy. May the problems you had
forget your home address! In simple words… May 2008 be the best year of your
life!

I wish all of us, a clean heart. A clean life. May we all be blessed. Regardless of culture, class, color, or race. May we be better in whatever we do. And may we all remember that we haven't lost that thing which we thought we have lost long ago. What do you call it, again? Ah right.

CONSCIENCE.

Withdrawal Symptoms

2008-02-03T02:24:00.000+08:00

You know those withdrawal symptoms, right? Sad to say, I find it extremely difficult to write something light and informative. I suddenly found it difficult to FEATURE write. The kind of writing I grew up with. The spectrum of my writing capability is now stretched to its farthest extent, which only leaves two probably options: technical and literal.

Granting that our teachers feed us with blunt conceptual theories, I can’t blame me for developing a hunger on epistaxis-inducing words. To add, me trying to get away from technical writing equates to extreme rhetoric. It’s either, talk in the futuristic language or use the words powdered all over the shelf of great literary names.

As for this blog, I realized that my fascination with my capability to procrastinate is not leading me anywhere. I ditched the idea of a profit-oriented blog twenty minutes ago. I recognized that the reason why I started blogging is to open up an avenue for me and my endless opinions. After all, the premise of blogging tackles about self expression.

And so, with this in mind, I’ll do my best to update my blog and my thoughts. We have to keep the rust away. As for the usage of the allocated space, there’s this poem I thought of last week. Random ideas after I saw a couple of girls teaching a Badjao Kid to smoke. Feel free to critique it. :)

Cancer Stick

I could keep that memory
forever.
Uneven wisps of smoke
billowing from the thin stick of death
she twirled around her lively fingers.

Persuaded and unarmed,
she puffed her first.
I watch her struggle; holding her breath
and letting the white gas escape from her
pretty mouth.

Desolate and not used to it,
she wrinkled her nose
but still...
the spirit of nicotine entering
her pallid nerves.

I laughed.
Amused
with her innocence.
"Go on! Another try."
Her eyes welled with doubt
but she presses the cancer stick
back to her lips.

How does it feel?
To be
in between her fingers?
Suffocated with her
lovely lips,
engulfed with
her every breath.

There, there.
She's puffing up o's in the air
(I can see she's not trying hard)

I got her addicted,
hooked on cigarettes

But not on me.

Toss the Feathers

2008-01-14T07:37:00.000+08:00

Last night, my dormmate (and crazy friend) Lalaine asked me to help her out in her Lit class. We have to work out on a short story (like those of Hills Like White Elephants) about something which includes dialog between characters, little narration, and hanging endings. After hours of revising and thesaurus-checks, we ended up with this. :)

Toss the Feathers

It was near dusk. The sun hid behind the steel-gray clouds. Thunder roared from miles away, promising a turbulent night ahead. The darkening sky met with the rice fields far on the horizon. A road snaked its way through the sea of rice stalks swaying with the wind. A van scampered timidly along the road as the last light of day left the earth.

Amidst the rattling of the vehicle, a girl remained sound asleep inside the car. Her hair, tangled on intricate webs and her body, fragile. She sat in a distorted manner, one foot clipped to her side and the other foot dangling on the side of her seat. Her head bobbing rhythmically to the bumps the car take on each curve.

Beside her, another girl – probably a year younger – jerked awake from her slumber. She looked at her sleeping friend and smiled.

“She fell asleep too. I'm surprised. She talked to me as if we're close friends during high school.”

The frail girl seemed to hear her. She raised her head and looked outside the window. It was starting to drizzle. The raindrops nestled like needles on the glass windows.

“What time is it?” the frail girl asked.
“Time to buy your own watch.”
“Har har. Very funny. Seriously, we've been traveling for ages. I saw rice fields before I fell asleep. And now, still more rice fields.”
“Funny hearing that from you. You were talking before you fell asleep, and now, you've been awake for just a minute and then you start talking again.”
“I don't talk that much. You know that.”
“Exactly. That's why I'm letting you talk as long as you want.”

The frail girl looked at her and then she slumped down on her seat. Silence.

She looked outside the windows again. The drizzle has stopped and the outline of the moon can be seen from behind the clouds. The moon sailed soulfully away from the mass of lumpy clouds. A blurred plate hanging from the windows of heaven.

“The moon is bleeding.” the frail girl muttered.
The younger girl looked at her. “I think it's beautiful. Rarely would you see a moon in red tinge.”
“I don't want to see the moon in red. It brings a lot of melancholic memories.” She looked at her friend, “You want to hear why?”
“Err... Well...”
“Okay, it doesn't matter, I'll tell it to you anyway...”

The younger girl laughed. She then reached out for her bag and started looking for something.

The frail girl kept talking to herself.
“... back when I was sixteen, I enjoy looking at the night sky. Actually, even before that. When I was little, I've always loved astronomy...”

She found what she was looking for: a pair of earphones.

“... my dad taught me about astronomy and mythology... I really liked the moon above all. It's something special. I like the way it glows... it reminds me of faked emotions. Like a lady smiling even if she really feels like crying... The moon is very mysterious.”
“Err.. okay. Uh, you won't mind it if I listen to my player would you?” the other girl asked.
“Yeah...”

The younger girl switched on her player and the music flowed out her ears. She adjusted the volume so she'd still be able to hear her friend.

“we're not that close back in high school, noh? Well, I don't really like high school... I can't wait for college actually... and I think college didn't disappoint me... or so I think... but before that, let me tell you about my close circle of friends...”
“Sure, sure. Go on.”
“...we're close friends... well, we didn't really started out that close... it just started one night, when the moon was red, like tonight... we were one of the youngest people in class... both of us, still sixteen... we share a lot of commonalities... smart-alecks, too proud for their own good, etcetera... it's no surprise to see us together... so, it all started during a program in school... it ended late... the moon is unusually red... for the first time, I didn't feel problematic... we were walking on the grounds when we saw the moon... and then, we stopped walking... we just stared at it for a long time... that night, when I came home, I thought about her... on how God must have planned out everything to happen... she did not fail me as a friend... she was the first one who appreciated me... I know that I have a lot of flaws, but she shook it aside and loved me as me... cliche-ic you might think, but that is really how it is...”

Silence.

“Ah, so why do you fell melancholic now?”

Hush. More silence.

“I guess, the best things really don't last long...”

She stared at the confused look on the younger girl's face then looked out the window again to see the now-faint-colored moon being engulfed by the gray clouds around it.

LORD. Ain't this funny?

2008-01-10T15:34:00.000+08:00

We watched Lord of War for our Readings in Asia class. I've watched this before but I haven't finished it till the end. Luckily, ma'am tetch scheduled us to watch this. And lucky you, IMDB has a copy of the script.

Good film. Funny. In a VERY intelligent way.

This is probably the first (and best) film about war. Satirical and realistic at the same time. Not violent, but VERY moving.

And since I celebrate the existence of brains in the world, I looked up some of its best lines. Here's to wit, ~~irrelevant diplomacy, impaired politics,~~ and war. (You can crash out the last if you want)

---
The first and most important rule of gun-running is: Never get shot with your own merchandise.
---
Anatoly Orlov: Is this how you want to be remembered?
Yuri Orlov: I don't want to be remembered at all. That means I'm dead.
---
I sell to leftists, and rightists. I sell to pacifists, but they're not the most regular customers.
---
Vitaly Orlov: [in Russian] Oh God!
Yuri Orlov: [voice-over] Always resort to your native tongue in times of anger. And in times of ecstasy.
---
They say, "Evil prevails when good men fail to act." What they ought to say is, "Evil prevails."
---
Every faction in Africa calls themselves by these noble names - Liberation this, Patriotic that, Democratic Republic of something-or-other... I guess they can't own up to what they usually are: a federation of worse oppressors than the last bunch of oppressors. Often, the most barbaric atrocities occur when both combatants proclaim themselves freedom-fighters.
---
Back then, I didn't sell to Osama Bin Laden. Not because of moral reasons, but because he was always bouncing checks.
---
I sell guns to every army but the Salvation Army.
---
Borneo Officer: We're with the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco and Firearms.
Yuri Orlov: Let me guess... this isn't about the alcohol or tobacco.
---
I had a flair for languages. But I soon discovered that what talks best is dollars, dinars, drachmas, rubles, rupees and pounds fucking sterling.
---
After the Cold War, the AK-47 became Russia's biggest export. After that came vodka, caviar, and suicidal novelists.
---
Where there's a will, there's a weapon.
---
You know who's going to inherit the Earth? Arms dealers. Because everyone else is too busy killing each other. That's the secret to survival. Never go to war. Especially with yourself.

Seriously, I can't get over the thought of me being a gun-smuggler after watching this. Muwahaha! (To think that my course intends to me to practice diplomacy)

Something Real

2008-01-03T13:20:00.000+08:00

O ye, 2008 it is. HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYONE!

I've been lost in the airwaves. I've spent my "vacation" far from civilization. Haha. Seriously, here are the proofs.

My braincells are still wandering. The fireworks must have took them. I'm still badgering my classmates to hand their reports and articles for Sinabawang Gulay. But for now, I would like to acknowledge (again) the genius that is Meg and Dia.

They make their music from:
~ 18th century literature
~ social issues (drugs, liberalism on youth, etc)
~ life and love experiences

Contrary to popular love-inspired songs, their music isn't about mushy cliche-ic love stories. Some songs included in their album tackle about different topics.

Cardigan Weather - vengeance for infidelity
Courage, Robert - a song for the pianist/composer Robert Schumann
Getaways Turned Holidays - about parents who stay together for their kids
How Much - about destructive relationships
I'll Find Mine - a COOL break-up song
Joey Had A Smoke - an interesting song about the nativity scene
Just One of Those Things - about someone who doesn't want to leave (a relationship, person, etc) but he/she has to
Masterpiece - rape, incest, pedophilia
Nineteen Stars - suicide, depression (POV of someone close to the suicidal person)
Roses - youth and drugs
Santa Barbara - suicide, depression (POV of a suicidal person)
Strawberry Waltz - infidelity
Yellow Butterfly - for a mother who lost a child

Songs based from Books:
Indiana - based from George Sand's Indiana
Monster - based from John Steinbeck's East of Eden
Rebecca - based from Daphne du Maurier's Rebecca
Setting Up Sunday - based from J. D. Salinger's Catcher in the Rye
Tell Mary - based from a book entitled Mary

And just today, I learned something about their song My Baby's Better Than Yours. Contrary to the title, the song is about war. This was taken from an interview with Dia:

"Meg and I have always had this really negative outlook on war. Of course, we've never been, or fought in an actual war, but we've both read extensive novels on war. (Some of my favorites remain, "Things Fall Apart," and "The Red Badge of Courage," and "A Farewell to Arms.") Killing another person, even in war, has always been a terrible thought to me. War, in my opinion, is like an organized massacre. I always think about the other side... they're just like you and me. Good people fighting against good people for something that isn't worth it. Nothing is worth innocent blood...is it? I don't want to get to politics, because I still have so much to learn about politics and war, but that's just how we feel now."

You might as well listen to the song and read its lyrics.

Some say suffering's not much
But I say...
We make sure to know
We know a lot of who we're killing

We fell apart
We all fell apart
Underestimate what it means to me
We fell apart
We all fell apart
Underestimate what it means to me

We're all different right?
(We're all different right)

Age is one, other side, different lines,
Different roles,
Different rules to abide by,
And all these lines self divide to races of men,
Cause we're all different right?

We fell apart
We all fell apart
Underestimate what it means to me
We fell apart
We all fell apart
Underestimate what it means to me

We're all different right?
(We're all different right)

Step over,
Step over that clever line,
Gotta figure out which side is right,
Choose a destiny to live by
If you wanna live or die or fight
And only one side wins
And what I think of this I don't know
It's not that I'm afraid of dying,
It's just, I'm so afraid to live

Some say that clevers as they come.
But I say,
We slowly learn to bite upon the sun
Perfect's finally gone and

We fell apart
We all fell apart
Underestimate what it means to me
We fell apart
We all fell apart
Underestimate what it means to me

We're all different right?
(We're all different right)

Step over,
Step over that clever line,
Gotta figure out which side is right,
Choose a destiny to live by
If you wanna live or die or fight
And only one side wins
And what I think of this I don't know
It's not that I'm afraid of dying,
It's just, I'm so afraid to live

Hate is what fuels our wars and bloody lips.
Don't listen to love.
But I can sing songs
And I can sing about how I know
I know that this is wrong

Step over,
Step over that clever line,
Gotta figure out which side is right, Choose a destiny to live by
If you wanna live or die or fight
And only one side wins
And what I think of this I don't know
It's not that I'm afraid of dying,
It's just, I'm so afraid to live

Some say suffering's not much
But I say...

Makulay ang Buhay sa Sinabawang Gulay

2007-12-19T21:08:00.000+08:00

My ears are deaf from all the things I hear. So now, I.AM.GOING.TO.CLARIFY.THINGS.UP.

Contrary to popular belief, the International Studies Program of the Ateneo De Davao University is not created to gather girls with rebonded hair wearing skinny jeans and aviator glasses. If you are currently an International Studies Student who wishes to end up as a flight attendant, you might as well get out of this program and enroll in Samson Technical School. International Studies do NOT include learning how to put make-up on, learning to mix and match outfits for wash day, and talking in intolerable coño pseudo-english.

This course is supposedly instigated to guide the future "diplomats" and those aspiring to be such. In International Studies, you are supposed to amalgamate the teachings of Political Science, Economics, Anthropology and Philosophy.

An International Studies Student should at least know who is Homi Bhabha, Saparmurad Niyazov, and Jacques Derrida. Or at least, you must be able to bluff your way from teachers who caught you off-guard in a recitation. An International Studies Student should at least know that Kurdistan does not exist in the map, that John Adams and John QUINCY Adams are NOT the same person, ~~that the teachers of the Ateneo IS Program are NOT supposed to teach International Studies,~~ and that Benito Mussolini is not a type of pasta.

The blog Sinabawang Gulay para sa Batang Bingi is an avenue of sharing the wonderful world of International Relations to you, lucky people. The site is primarily monitored by ME, so I might as well note about the history of this program as it occurred to me.

On June 2006, an unknown deadly virus, (later referred as the CHANILLIONES virus) surfaced in the program. It caused a sudden increase of mortality rate in the students. From SIXTY-plus, a total of NOT more than twenty-five students were left. However, a vaccine named SKUB1DU eliminated the virus from the IS system. Thus, regaining stability on the population of the new International Studies Students.

Today, the students of the International Studies Program are still struggling to segregate their name from usual stereotyping (i.e. only kikay girls and homosexual boys are enrolling in this course).

AGAIN, the site is created for the convenience of International Studies Students (hehe). More accurately, it would tackle about all concepts related to International Studies from the eyes of class '09. HA HA HA.

Comments? Suggestions? Violent Reactions? Please call 1-908-GETALIFE. This post is SOLELY based on MY (repeat MY) opinion. Not yours, not hers, not anyone else's. So in case you want to rant your way to sanity, the comment box is created for your convenience. :)

Do You Hear What I Hear?

2007-12-16T23:26:00.000+08:00

This week is a jambalaya of events. Positive and Negative Energies.

Negative:
~ My problem with my barkada is not yet solved. And I think it will be that way forever. It pains me that our two and a half year samahan is going to waste. However, one should never keep broken glasses. You'll only get wounded in the end. Nevertheless, I will forever treasure the moments I've had with them. They once took up a huge part of me. And they will always will.
~ I've had a bunch of freaky dreams. I searched their meanings on http://dreammoods.com and I found that they are indeed connected with the current events in my life. Such freaky dreams include being trapped between a guerrilla and army war, the sight of dead bodies on stalls, guns, blood and needles, and the pungent smell of blood mixed with rainwater.
~ I just learned that I have an invisible entity (a.k.a. twin). Ate Marj vindicated this idea when she saw a girl inside my room two nights ago. She thought that it's ME, but then she remembered that I'm in the living room busy swooning over Jun Matsumoto. The "girl" is supposedly a doppelganger. Two theories came up. One, the influx of negative energy (my depression moments and sad aura) conjured huge amounts of negativity in my room, thus creating the said "girl". Two, it's an entity which decided to imitate my face for the fun of it. HOWEVER, during my talks with Ate Marj (who herself has a twin), I found out that the "girl" is not a mere doppelganger, but a spiritual entity which is deemed to be my twin forever (think of the daemon in The Golden Compass). I often had experiences wherein most people mistook me for the "girl". Too many experiences. Anyway, I'm finally okay with the thought of it. I was then advised not too TALK TO HER (which I really want to do) because she might feed on my weakness and become strong, and may replace the physical me. Oh well. Another set of rules. *rolls eyes*

Whew. Bad things, Nevertheless, the scale should be balanced.

Positive:
~ The AWITENISTA 2008 preliminaries is successful! Weee! There are far too many BEAUTIFUL songs this year that's why we have to stretch the 15-song limit to 20. Congratulations for those who made it. For those who didn't, there is still next year. Keep your fingers crossed and watch for the AWITENISTA '08 Finals Night this February. :)
~ We've had our Dorm Christmas party last night. We had lots of food, lots of fun, and lots of noise. Haha! I gave Ate Marj a cross stitch set. She-she had me for her manita. Haha! I love her. She gave me a cool blue bag and *drumrolls* A WASTEBASKET! Wee! I don't have a wastebasket for my room, and that's why I'm all thank yous for her thoughtful present. :)
~ Tina is the way to go! I want to thank her for the chance she gave me. Hehe. If it's not for her, I won't be at the Adobe Photoshop Seminar with the renowned Photoshop-er Ted Padova. Haha. It was a remarkable experience. The food, certificate, pictures, and the one-on-one talk with Mr. Padova for 250 pesos! Tsk. Am I lucky or what?
~ Aaaaaaaaaaand, (again, thanks Tina), I would want to plug my new blog. It's a review /ranting blog. About my sentiments on the field of INTERNATIONAL STUDIES. (ORAYT!). It's the random ramblings of a going-deaf child. Yes, I DO think I'm audio-impaired. At times, we need to take special cases for the disabled. See the blind, hear the deaf, and speak to the mute. Click, click, click. http://sinabawanggulay.blogspot.com/

I used to hate vegetables. But not anymore. I used to have clear hearing. Not anymore. I used to be cynical on everything. And I think it will stay that way forevermore. Haha!

Contrary to the Tagalog url, it's in English. PREPARE FOR EPISTAXIS!

Have a jolly week ahead, everyone. :)

Seven TRUTHS

2007-12-09T00:21:00.000+08:00

Tagged by Ate Ami. So now, I have to share seven facts about my extremely dorky life. Ha ha.

1. Maybe it's because of sheer laziness, but I always end up scribbling/writing on my palms. May it be the assignment for the week or a new friend's number. That's probably the reason why I tend to snooze in class. My brain is ultimately ink-blotted.

2. I talk. A LOT. I talk in tongues. I talk in riddles. I talk to ANYBODY. ANYTHING. NAME IT. Walls, shadows, animals, balloons, monobloc chairs, guitars, myself.

3. I can control my dreams. When having nightmares, I can force myself to wake up.
I can even make my mind go blank when I do not like the part of the dream. In other words, I can make the conscious and subconscious part of my brain work at the same time.

4. I totally abhor worms. I am not afraid of FROGS, ROACHES, RATS, SNAKES, LIZARDS, and SPIDERS. But I really, really, really, REALLY don't like worms. Thinking about them gives me goosebumps! *brr*

5. The rain FASCINATES me. Maybe I'm part-frog because I love it when it rains. I feel better when it's raining than when it's not. I can do somersaults, count the raindrops, do poetry, strum my guitar, create a painting, blog FOREEEEEVAAAH!

6. If thinking can make you rich, I'll probably be the wealthiest person in the planet. I cannot stop myself from not thinking. I find it really, really, REALLY hard to concentrate because thoughts keep swarming my mind. I can't even sleep without thinking about something. Sometimes, I find it irritating that I need to contemplate on whatever thing that crosses my mind. And a LOOOOOOOOOT of people already warned me about thinking TOO much.

7. I am afraid of ME. I don't get angry easily. But if I do, I would find it really difficult to let go of everything. People tend to abuse me for my "shallowness", like when I overlook their CONSTANT mistakes. But you know, when you tend to ALWAYS forgive even without the person asking for your forgiveness, it can really push you off your limits. As for me, great love can turn to great hate and indifference. I can keep grudges. I actually scare myself when I think about it.

I had always wanted to tell this to the world, and I think this can be a good avenue for it.

I am good in the highest sense of good. I can serve you, I can let you step on me, I can make you happy, I can DIE FOR YOU. But you should not make me mad. Trust me. YOU WON'T LIKE IT.

---

*re-reads post*

Hmmm.. That sounded WEIRD. Haha!

Like I was beseiged by some evil force. But this is a journal anyway. And it is supposed to be an outlet of what I should feel. There should be no need to censor emotions. Especially if it affects you in a huge way.

As of now, I am in a stage of great emotionalslashsocial turmoil. And may God help me surpass this.

I'm tagging anyone who wants to be tagged.

Tag and Concatenate

2007-12-06T18:25:00.000+08:00

First, the tag from Ate Ychel. :)

5 Things Found In My Bag
Pens
Pieces of paper
Cellphone
Mp3 player
Book

5 Things Found In My Wallet
ATM card
Timezone card
Pictures
Notes from friends last February 14, 2006
Coins

5 Things Found In My Room (Alice once mistook my room for Wonderland)
GUITAR
Artworks pinned on the wall
Books on the table, books over and under the chair, books under the bed, books above and near the closet.
Bed with green bed covers
Polaris (my small, faded pink teddy bear)

5 Things I’ve Always Wanted To Do
Travel around the world
Eat
Read
Contemplate
Laugh. Dream. Live.

5 Things I’m Currently Into
SCHOOL (I'm dead serious)
DoTA
UNYAP (haha)
Checking my Multiply
My wonderful, wonderful classmates. :)

5 People to Tag for This Meme
Eseng milabs
Jenggay
Kimmi
Teeth
Paouwee Ko

---
Instant Insight for the hour:

Concatenate (verb) - to link together; unite in a series or chain. ALSO: juxtapose, combine, amalgamate, affix, agglutinate, conjugate.

We are all connected. As the sun to the moon. The rivers to the seas. Sky to land. Life and death. The world is a mosaic of different lives. A life is a conglomeration of a thousand different stories. Each story is a woven fabric of different people. Each person is a product of the world.

I do not destroy the cycle by cutting my connection to the world. I am the world.

I am YOU. I am WE.

I cannot, and I MUST not destroy ME US.

Mission: POSSIBLE.

2007-11-27T20:04:00.000+08:00

I just had my first overnight retreat in Manresa by the Sea. Yes, the same retreat house we went to last year. There is a God!

I feel calm and light. As if all the pain has faded away. I've been detached from my faith these past few months. Like Adam Aziz on Rushdie's Midnight's Children, I am torn between Eupraxsophy and tradition-rooted belief. Retreats and recollections are good for the soul. They keep it intact.

This has been my most memorable retreat so far. We shared stories, shared secrets, shared laughters, shared tears. We shared our lives. And I learned a lot of things.

Lesson 1.
God exists to make us happy. The idea of a Supreme Being is one of the mechanisms developed so we can cope with the harsh realities of life. God exists to provide hope. I don't want to question the existence of God again. It is difficult to do so. It is like getting away from your comfort zone and venturing to the deep abyss of the unknown. Before, I am happy with the notion of a higher entity guarding me. Now, it's difficult to keep the faith burning while fulfilling the yearning for knowledge. I find it really difficult to concentrate on our prayer this morning. I am pushing myself to BELIEVE. I am happy before. I want to be happy again. I don't want to feel lost. So what if there really is no God? What's next? If believing in God is a fallacy, then I think, I'd rather be illogical than be unhappy.

Lesson 2.
You will appreciate life better with the eyes of a friend. These past few weeks, two of my close friends, Paouwee and Millie were not in good terms with each other. I badly wanted them to be together again. Harvey told me that no matter how we wanted to help, we should leave the decision to them. On one of our activities, we were instructed to pair up with one another. WE paired them up together. When the activity is about to start, Paouwee and Millie hugged one another through streams of tears. No exchange of words. I can't help but cry. I have NEVER cried that much in public. I realized how beautiful life is if you feel its essence not JUST within you but with others as well. Happiness doubles if you feel it through a friend. I am keeping my fingers crossed that those two would not hurt each other again. I KNOW that they love each other. There is no reason for them to hurt and be hurt.

Lesson 3.
Childhood is the best stage in life. I wish I could go back to my childhood self. Back when innocence is still whole and untampered. I wish I can be a child once more. A child who lives on the simplicities of life. A child who finds it easy to listen, easy to express, easy to love, easy to forgive, easy to BELIEVE. I long for the days when I still find it easy to LIVE.

Lesson 4.
My purpose is to live forever. Because I will change the world. Living forever does not mean that I will exist physically for eternity, but rather, I will live through the people I know. These people are my world. Change is not necessarily holistic. Because change is evident at the moment that you touch the lives of these people. I need to start with the people near me before I can move to greater heights. Even ambassadors started on grassroots level. International Studies seems like an ideal course because it really is such. An idealistic concept to battle the harsh realities of life. International Studies is not an encompassing notion of alleviating atrocities. It is the unified movement of all integral components of a system.

Lesson 5.
I learned that my mission is to live life DREAMILY. Life is harsh. Don't make it worse by being too hard on yourself. My mission and purpose in life can be symbolized by a paper airplane. It does not have a specific path. It goes wherever the wind may take it. Coordinates are not a factor. It doesn't matter where it may land. What matters is the fact that it FLEW.

Lesson 6. (And by far the most important lesson of all)
A day is not enough for you to learn the complexities of life and how to deal with it. A day is not enough to understand and forgive someone. There is more than what meets the eye. There are more to tears than the fact that an oxygen molecule and two hydrogen molecules have the capability to conclude an entire story. There is more to friendship than the familiarity. There is more to An than being a Supergirl and the notion of her living a perfect life. There is more to Clariza and her goofy side. There is more to the International Studies students and their BEING such. There is more for me to be sorry for being blind to all of these.

A day is not enough.

For with them all, there is more to discover. There is more to love.

The World of Illuminada "Baby Girl" Binayubay

2007-11-21T21:25:00.000+08:00

Since I can't think of anything sensible to write, I'll introduce you to Baby Girl.

Illuminada "Baby Girl" Binayubay is a fictional character I came up with. :) Thanks to the ADDU Web Development Team for escorting me away from sanity. Haha!

Anyway, here are some random facts about "Baby Girl".

~ When Baby Girl gives you the finger, she’s telling you how many seconds you have left to live.

~ He, who laughs last, laughs best. He who laughs at Baby Girl, dies.

~ When the bogeyman goes to sleep, he checks his closet for Baby Girl.

~ Baby Girl once ate an entire bottle of sleeping pills. They made her blink.

~ Baby Girl never goes to the dentist because her teeth are unbreakable. Her enemies never go to the dentist because they have no teeth.

~ Baby Girl doesn't play god. Playing is for children.

~ When God said, "Let there be light", Baby Girl said, "say please."

~ The original title for Alien vs. Predator was Alien and Predator vs Baby Girl. The film was canceled shortly after going into preproduction. No one would pay nine dollars to see a movie fourteen seconds long.

~ When Baby Girl sneezes, she doesn't say "Atchoo" she says "DIE EVERYONE!!!". That's what happens next.

~ Not everyone that Baby Girl is mad at gets killed. Some get away. They are called astronauts.

~ If it looks like chicken, tastes like chicken, and feels like chicken but Baby Girl says its beef, then it's beef.

~ There's an order to the universe: space, time, Baby Girl.... Just kidding, Baby Girl is first.

~ With the rising cost of gasoline, Baby Girl is beginning to worry about her drinking habit.

~ The Bible was originally titled "Baby Girl and Friends"

~ Once a cobra bit Baby Girl's leg. After five days of excruciating pain, the cobra died.

~ Cars were invented to have a faster way of fleeing from Baby Girl. Not to be outdone, Baby Girl invented the car accident.

~ There are no races, only countries of people Baby Girl has beaten to different shades of black and blue.

~ Baby Girl can delete the Recycling Bin.

~ Baby Girl invented black. In fact, she invented the entire spectrum of visible light. Except pink. Tom Cruise invented pink.

~ Godzilla is a Japanese rendition of Baby Girl's first visit to Tokyo.

~ Whoever said "only the good die young" was probably in Baby Girl's kindergarten class.

~ Baby Girl knows the last digit of pi.

~ "Let the Bodies Hit the Floor" was originally written as Baby Girl's theme song.

~ Some people say that Baby Girl is a myth. Those "some people" are now dead.

~ Baby Girl died ten years ago, but the Grim Reaper can't get up the courage to tell her.

And by far, the most shocking:

Baby Girl has a deep and abiding respect for human life... unless it gets in her way.

Reasons and International Issues

2007-11-12T13:47:00.000+08:00

It's been a while. A looooooong, looong while. The first semester of my third year college life slipped by; and now it's "hello second sem". Three more semesters to go and it's "hello real world"! Haha!

Anyway, last October, me and my classmates (ABIS-ASST 3) went to Cagayan for the 1st MDG Mindanao Summit for Young Filipino Leaders. For the fulfillment of our frustration for our supposed-Hongkong trip, the sight of the letter from the National Youth Commission and United Nations Youth Association of the Philippines is a gift from the Gold Gardens. Thus, Cagayan De Oro City we come. At, least we DID travel. And in fairness, it IS relevant to our course. The Cagayan experience is worth it.

And no, I'm not making this as an excuse for NOT blogging. Here are some proofs. Click, click, click!

Truth be known, I've been gone for a while because I'm busy nurturing my favorite hobby. You know, inventing new things, philosophizing, creating amazing discoveries within the parameters of my mind.

Sorry guys, I wasn't able to get the last ticket from Dreamland to the world of reality so I have to purge all self-will I can muster to face this blogpad again. And boy, that WAS hard!

My only hobby is laziness, which naturally rules out all others.

Anyway, before I ran out out of active braincells again, I might as well finish this post. I made a video of my classmates when we were in Cagayan. It's a pseudo-scandal. Haha! I'm so evil! (I'll just blab about whatever that would come to my mind, so pardon the inconsistencies) :)

An ode to the third year International Studies Students of Ateneo De Davao University. Woooo! Guys! We made it! We REALLY made it! From 40+ to 13! From Chan to Billiones to Tiu! I am sooo glad we're classmates. I promise you that from now on, I'll study. SERIOUSLY. I'LL STUDY! I'll do all my best to STUDY! There's no way I'd be late for our graduation. I don't want to graduate with the second years who find TERROR in Ma'am Diaz's piece-of-cake lessons. No way! They did not undergo Chan and Billiones. And THEY DO NOT EVEN KNOW WHAT HALAL MEANS! (Halal? Ano yan? Brand name?) HAR HAR. And they had the nerve to call themselves International Studies students!? What the-- Grr.

Okay Bam, inhale, exhale. Blood pressure...

I just hate it when I talk about them. They never fail to annoy me. Ho-hum.

Proceed, proceed!

So anyway, talking about International Affairs and issues, I've watched the Miss Earth 2007 pageant last night and I noted some things.

* Indians DO speak good english.
India has succeeded in taking the number three spot for the largest English speaking country after UK and USA. The slot was formerly occupied by the Philippines, which now falls at number 4. And yes, India holds the title for the largest English speaking country in Asia. This can be the after-effect of the inculcation of education as a primary and integral concept in India nowadays. Tsk, tsk Philippines.

* Filipinos need to reaffirm themselves OVER and OVER and OVER again.
I find it funny how Filipinos (especially the media) tend to HIGHLIGHT the Filipino-ness of a person. Take for example Vanessa Hudgens. When she starred on High School Musical, you will ALWAYS, ALWAYS hear reporters blabbing on something like this "half-Filipina Hudgens bagged the most coveted role of blah blah yadda yadda". They would celebrate on the concept of an international celebrity having a DROP of Filipino blood in his/her veins. What do we know? The teeny-weeny drop of Filipino in her blood had been sucked up by a mosquito who bit her when she was young. Tsk, tsk. Exactly what happened last night during the Miss Earth pageant. When Jessica Trisko of Canada walked unto the stage, the reporter introduced her with "Half-Filipina Jessica Trisko blah blah blah" Irk. DUH! Honestly, we really don't care if she is half-Filipina or not. Because at the end of the day, she is still of Canadian citizenship, she is UNABLE of conversing in Filipino, and she WILL BE carrying the CANADIAN FLAG under her nose wherever she may go. Not that of the Philippines. I honestly think that the "reaffirming part" acted as a consuelo de bobo as Miss Philippines Earth did not make it to the Top 16.

* Filipinos ARE nationalistic.
If you don't agree with me, explain the RECURRING FAD of Miss Philippines winning nothing except the Miss Photogenic award EVERY YEAR.

* Latin American contenders do well in almost everything EXCEPT the substantial question and answer portion.
Ho-hum. As always. You always see these Latina beauties on the top 5 of every International Competition. Sadly though, it seems that their portrayal as eye candies make up most of their roles. In my OWN opinion, judging from past beauty pageants wherein Latinas make it to the Q&A portion, they do SUCK in substantive intellectual discourses. I'd rather eat Spanish sardines all my life than hear them choosing TWO options out of TWO in every pageant they join in.

During the Miss Universe 2007
Host: What is more important to you? The heart or the mind?
Contestant: *calls translator*
*contestant yapping in a foreign language*
Translator: She thinks that both should go together blah blah blah yadda yadda yadda.

During the Miss Earth 2007
Judge: *long intro* What would you choose between the economy and the environment?"
Contestant: *calls translator*
*contestant yapping in a foreign language*
Translator: She thinks that both should go together blah blah blah yadda yadda yadda.

ME: *rolls eyes* DUH. Can't she think of any better answers than that? What the hell!
Dorm mates: Bam! Easy ka lang. Inhale, exhale.

That is soooo lame. I tell you. No racial profiling intended. But once you hear a question like that for Miss Venezuela or Puerto Rico or Spain or what-have-you, expect the oh-so-lame-and-oh-so-safe answer you can hear on KIDDIE BEAUTY PAGEANTS FOR THE CEREBRALLY DISABLED.

* Moving on. I would like to tell the world how fascinated I am with Miss India.
She is SMART. AND BEAUTIFUL. AND TALENTED. And whatever you wish to look for a beauty queen if you set your definition on HOLISTIC beauty and not out of mere physicality.
Here, here. Click on this link and drool. And no, I'm not a lesbian.

Pooja Chitgopekar

Okay, okay. I think that's too much for today. Pardon my rantings. I'll be back. SOON. Hopefully. Hehe.