Wednesday, November 30, 2005

Rantings of A Grinch

Just got back from Robinson's Place. My groupmate and I had to buy some goodies for our speaker tomorrow. After much considerations, we ended purchasing a basketful of goodies, which I carried all the way to the jeepney stop. It was only until then did I realize how exhausted I was - feel like fainting any moment. The weight of the basket was heavy so my arms were aching really badly - but trying hard to act like the self sufficient heroine that I am, did not say a word to my groupmate even when she concernly asked me if I needed help. Pride - my favorite sin.


I can hear Eminem songs again. On the way to RP, the FX we were riding on had an Eminem tape playing. While the white rapper's curses blasted on the speakers, I was thinking why my obsession to his songs diminished. I guess after two years of memorizing his words and lyrics, I finally realized and confirmed to myself how shallow and childish they are.

Americans are really shallow according to my friend, but I beg to differ, the fact is, everybody tends to become shallow and immature. Although a person may act mature, there are also other aspects in his personality which he still needs to develop. I don't believe anybody has actually achieved absolute perfection, but enlightened people (those who managed to detach themselves from people, things and emotions) are quite contented and live more meaningful lives compared to their wildly-driven tycoon counterparts. W!


Christmas season is already starting and works of "altruism" is in the air. Personally, I don't believe in the spirit of altruism and in fact do not practice such a thing. People helping others? Heck, its more of a basic freedom rather than a work of virtue the way I see it. Going to orphanages and visiting the poor oldies, extending your help in Gawad Kalinga - but complain like shit when you get home because one's too damn tired, one's too like this and like that - now that's the spirit of altruism. As I've commented to my friend, why keep telling yourself you like to be altruistic and helpful, when after the experience, you end up complaining about things you can't have. You did not get the lesson of helping the needy at all.

In fact, why be so self-possessed with personal wants and needs and power then say I am socio-civic participant. I mean, why be mean to people, snapping at them and bossing them around then say I am all heart. (Disclaimer - She's not that mean, I am just saying this to exaggerate the points) It's another mask that we fool ourselves in. I don't think she got what I was trying to point out though.

I am the Grinch, but not a complete Scrooge. I do hate the Christmas season, with all the traffic jams conjesting the metro, all those jolly overused Holiday jingles tickling your ears until they bleed of overexposure, all the consumerism that is going on here and there.

I hate the Christmas season because it is the time of hypocrisy, when people act all lovey-dovey and concerned when in fact they don't really care or have another agenda in mind. It's the time when people give you things before you realize that they are actually expecting something in return (take for instance, giving gifts to politicians).

Christmas is the time when we have to spend spend spend because we are expected to, and people end up broke and complaining but blame it on the season because they have to spend. Mahirap na ang Pilipinas, but wait.. check out the stampede thats thrashing around Divisoria, Greenhills and all the major shopping sites.

Christmas is the time of the year when your family could be together but is still individualized with their own concerns - the computer, the cellphone, the television. It's a time when you prepare damn Christmas dinners when people aren't exactly hungry but would have to wake up in the middle of the night to get a barbeque stick or two and go back to sleep, just for tradition's sake.

Christmas is the time when people open up their gifts and say, these are the gifts I plan to recycle, these are the ones I am going to keep and these are simply distasteful and should be thrown away in the trash can. Its the time when people compare the quantity of gifts they receive, the total prices of the presents, etc.

My Christmas is so consumer-oriented that I don't believe in Christmas anymore. Christmas is not a time of love - its just a facade, its the time when you have reason to go to shopping sprees and spend like crazy. Its a season of giving, but more importantly - of business.

Tuesday, November 29, 2005

Wisdom of the Company

Much could be learned from interaction with your elders. This is a truth I have gained upon my constant conversations with my grandparents, parents, aunts and their peers. Although the degree of knowledge does vary from one person to the other, their experiences do impart to me an aspect in becoming a well rounded person. My grandfather, for instance, lectures me on person-person relationships as well as business tips and trivias. My grandmother shares to me her wisdom in thriftiness, beauty and medicine. My mother critiques my poetry and artworks as well as serves as a constant guide to a disciplined morality. My father on the other hand allows me to experience the freedom of a teenager, where he teaches me the how tos in pressuring people (like the way he drives - stay in the middle if you don't want people to overtake you, stay close to the rear of the car in front to pressure him to move quicker, etc.) as well as sharing to me some of his passions as photography, books and music.

Last night, my dad and I went to Gloria Maris to attend another weddding reception. On the way, he played some of the CDs he had collected over the years. These are among the songs which I had taken interest in - they're 1980's songs though, but heck, one thing I got from my dad is the tolerance for any music genre.
(a) Fairground Amusement - Perfect
(b) Tanita Takiram - Good Tradition
(c) Art of Noise feat. Tom Jones - Kiss

We're music enthusiasts. We were also discussing about my CD reviews of his collections. I mentioned that John Lennon's girlfriend, Yoko Ono's CD was disastrous that I can't imagine how it managed to garner such respectable compliments from acclaimed mainstream artists.

His Tori Amos collection (Little Earthquakes and the other one which I don't particularly enjoy listening too) were not among his favortites although I commented that Little Earthquakes does have this dark funny excitement to it, compared to the recent Tori Amos release.

His Elvis Costello collection is remarkable although I only prefer listening to Spike, where I obsess myself with three particular songs - Miss Macbeth, Veronica and God's Comic.

I've also listened to his Janet Jackson, Madonna, Aerosmith, Queen, Diana Ross collections they're not that bad. Although I'd still go for his Gloria Estefan CDs since they have this dancing beat to them. The variety of bands and singers are so many that I end up listening to them day after day. Comments though - The Bands, Poison and Japan don't produce my kinda songs though. Hecka, my dad's CD collection could fill up a whole cabinet!


Yesterday, I had the shock of my life. While walking through Binondo with my family, we happened to pass by one of my teachers in elementary. If my memory serves me right, I believe she was my grade two teacher in Chinese. I had made such an impression my Chinese teachers then because of my stubborness in transferring classrooms that's why perhaps she could slightly remember me. It was strange though since her first comment to me, directed actually to my mom was, "married?". And I was like.. "NO!!"

Now tell me, do I look THAT old?

Monday, November 28, 2005


Last night I went with my dad to Roxas to attend two parties where we are to serve as proxies for my grandfather. Century Park was one of the ultimate no-no restaurants for me - I didn't like the ambiance, I don't really like the food and overall I don't like the location.. but there was hope for it yet. The room reserved for the wedding reception was superb that I kept telling my dad, "There's hope for this place yet!" The designers hung circular paper lanterns of different colors and shades around the room, the centerpieces were a beautiful variety of blooms held together by uniformed sticks (the ones that could be bought at Dapitan Market), slim bamboos were placed on the sides of the room as well as area behind the bridal table that the place looked natural and Asian. In addition, the cunning use of leaves tied the whole ambiance together with the entourage running around the room in their yellow green gowns, others with an eccentric organic twist. In short - Nothing is impossible.

By the way, the wedding invitation was divine! When I showed it to my mom though she commented that I should get myself a rich husband since I have such expensive taste! (Nuh-uh! Good taste doesn't always have to be expensive!)


A student of my mother made an exhibit a couple of weeks earlier which showcased his many exceptional works of art. I was most impressed by his creations which includes chinese lanterns made out of recycled ampaos and other unwanted garbage (one of which won first prize).

He is handicapped according to my mother since he is slightly hard of hearing and has a somewhat slurred speech, and yet his patience and perseverance is remarkable. He invested a lot of time and money in purchasing art materials and piecing together his many praise worthy creations. His chinese calligraphy is also note worthy, painting the words with precision and grace - even being able to mimic the calligraphy of the olden times.

After the exhibit though it was said that he had to give away most of his works to his sponsors and those who made an ad of him on the chinese newspaper as a sign of gratitude and thanks and thus I fear only few of his treasured creations remained with him. My mom said that they will be making a book about him and thus to Ahya Dewey, congratulations!

I caught some of his creations from the pictures posted in his friendster account. As of now, I overheard how impressed my mom was, that she wanted to ask him to teach her the how-tos to be able to make the same works.. Art enthusiasts!

Sunday, November 27, 2005

Blogthings Splurge

With my uncle's Kaori Muraji's CD, Spain, playing in the background, I decided to go through a Blogthings test answering spree. The beautiful strumming of the guitar was inspiring. Soothing, calming, I love guitars when played this way. As learned, the sound of the guitar cannot be imitated by a synthesizer, oh well. Ben was teaching me to play the guitar last Friday. Memory game - still haven't memorized the chords. Aargh!

Anyway, the tests are not created by me, only chosen and answered. The results are posted below. It is for you to judge how accurate these tests are. Are they really a reflection of who I am, or simply a system's dry attempt to analyze the depths of a person's character?

How You Life Your Life

You seem to be straight forward, but you keep a lot inside.

You're laid back and chill, but sometimes you care too much about what others think.

You prefer a variety of friends and tend to change friends quickly.

Some of your past dreams have disappointed you, but you don't let it get you down.

Your Japanese Name Is...

Sayoko Yamada

Your Blogging Type is Artistic and Passionate

You see your blog as the ultimate personal expression - and work hard to make it great.
One moment you may be working on a new dramatic design for your blog...
And the next, you're passionately writing about your pet causes.
Your blog is very important - and you're careful about who you share it with.

You are a Believer

You believe in God and your chosen religion.
Whether you're Christian, Muslim, Jewish, or Hindu..
Your convictions are strong and unwavering.
You think your religion is the one true way, for everyone.

Your Power Color Is Lime Green

At Your Highest:

You are adventurous, witty, and a visionary.

At Your Lowest:

You feel misunderstood, like you don't fit in.

In Love:

You have a tough exterior, but can be very dedicated.

How You're Attractive:

Your self-awareness and confidence lights up a room.

Your Eternal Question:

"What else do I need in my life?"

Your Ideal Relationship is Serious Dating

You're not ready to go walking down the aisle.
But you may be ready in a couple of years.
You prefer to date one on one, with a commitment.
And while chemistry is important, so is compatibility.

Your Career Type: Artistic

You are expressive, original, and independent.
Your talents lie in your artistic abilities: creative writing, drama, crafts, music, or art.

You would make an excellent:

Actor - Art Teacher - Book Editor
Clothes Designer - Comedian - Composer
Dancer - DJ - Graphic Designer
Illustrator - Musician - Sculptor

The worst career options for your are conventional careers, like bank teller or secretary.

You Are 50% Weird

Normal enough to know that you're weird...
But too damn weird to do anything about it!

You Should Learn French

C'est super! You appreciate the finer things in life... wine, art, cheese, love affairs.
You are definitely a Parisian at heart. You just need your tongue to catch up...

Your Seduction Style: Prized Object

The seduction game you play is tried, true, and still effective: hard to get.
You know that the best seducers turn the tables - and get their crush to seduce them.
The one running has the power, and you're a challenge that is worth the chase.

You are a master of enticing and pulling back. Giving a little and taking some away.
You are controlled enough to know rewards come after a long seduction dance.
Even though you want to call, email, or say "I love you" first - you don't!

You're style is the perfect mix of hot and cold - so much so that you have many suitors.
Think Holly Golightly from Breakfast at Tiffany's ... or any of those creepy guys from the Bachelor.
You're skilled at inspiring a chase. The real test is picking the person to slow down for.

The Keys to Your Heart

You are attracted to good manners and elegance.

In love, you feel the most alive when your lover is creative and never lets you feel bored.

You'd like to your lover to think you are stylish and alluring.

You would be forced to break up with someone who was insecure and in constant need of reassurance.

Your ideal relationship is traditional. Without saying anything, both of you communicate with your hearts.

Your risk of cheating is zero. You care about society and morality. You would never break a commitment.

You think of marriage as something precious. You'll treasure marriage and treat it as sacred.

In this moment, you think of love as something you can get or discard anytime. You're feeling self centered.

You Are 70% Boyish and 30% Girlish

You are pretty evenly split down the middle - a total eunuch.
Okay, kidding about the eunuch part. But you do get along with both sexes.
You reject traditional gender roles. However, you don't actively fight them.
You're just you. You don't try to be what people expect you to be.

Your Brain's Pattern

Your brain is always looking for the connections in life.
You always amaze your friends by figuring out things first.
You're also good at connecting people - and often play match maker.
You see the world in fluid, flexible terms. Nothing is black or white.

Your World View

You are a happy, well-balanced person who likes people and is liked by others.
You question whether many conventional views on morality are valid under all circumstances.
You are essentially a content person.

Sometimes, you consider yourself a little superior.
You are moral by your own standards.
You believe that morality is what best suits the occasion.

Your Personality Profile

You are elegant, withdrawn, and brilliant.
Your mind is a weapon, able to solve any puzzle.
You are also great at poking holes in arguments and common beliefs.

For you, comfort and calm are very important.
You tend to thrive on your own and shrug off most affection.
You prefer to protect your emotions and stay strong.

Thursday, November 24, 2005

How Gay Are You?

I received this test from our block yahoogroups which is meant to define how "gay" a person is. Since it works for both girls and guys, I took the test, turns out I'm 56 percent gay! ("You're very open minded between the sheets and just as balanced when out on the streets") Oh my tushie! :0


I have just finished a sketch last night and handed it to one of my friends to scan it for me so I can finally update my deviant art account. My work after much reflection is not the type which would make people stop in awe and praise, in fact they are ones which make people think "Okay, this is one bored person." It's stupid, when I think about it now, to say that I am no artist for there is no defined way to describe an artist. Having so many artistic genres open to be exploited and at times redefined, there has to be no concrete standard to limit what is art and what is not.

Sometimes when I think about it, everything - no matter how simple or unflattering to the eye is art. A bicycle is a work of art which proves to be equally functional. The design in which it is constructed cannot be primarily done without creative thought paired with rational engineering and thus in the fusion of the two separate schools of thought can one create one which is both purposeful as well as tasteful. A chair cannot be chaired unless designed to be - furnishings, etc. - art of interior designing. Heck, even war became an art because it has to be designed, although it tends to be quite calculative.


For the past few months, my idealism has taken the best of my thoughts. It has overpowered my rationality and cold heartedness that I lean primarily on futuristic dreams which are at the moment immaterial and out of grasp. Although I have begun with so many theories in how I would deal particular endeavors, it is quite unfortunate that I had to "eat my words" when faced with the exact situation. And thus my objective thought slowly dwindled and slept noisily in the attic of my brain. Until...

Doubts are very effective means to shake the cobwebs in one's head. My realism has begun to take its revenge against the deceitful idealism I have been living with for the previous months. My head is catering to a war between the two polar camps, and at the moment, could not find any satisfactory compromise. Although a very clever plan has already formed itself and in fact has begun to find its implementation, the idealism savagely screams its words until realism needs to give it the air it pleads. The revenge of realism is not at all as wild as idealism's for it is objective and calculated and "researched". Idealism is just a rush of the emotional river which jumps and bends and can never be constant. The war will soon end, I will make sure of that - but the victor still remains questionable for the time being.


I wrote this short reflection earlier this year (April 22, 2005) when I was daydreaming how it would be like to accomplish a book and experience a real press conference where people could actually pretend to be interested in both the contents of your work, as well as the process in which one overcame.

" A story must imitate life; an interrelation between the objective mind and the subjective heart, all forged and bound together in the toolshed of the imagination."

"True life lends its hand to a story's creation and yet it is I, who must "make them my own", nurture each event and parent each character to lead me to its own conclusion. I am merely a voice they hear, but it is their actions that write the tale."

Wednesday, November 23, 2005


Life is full of choices which at times seem to be mundane or so simple that it does not require much thought to accomplish. Such examples are the choice of clothes to wear for the day, to bring or not to bring a specific notebook to school, the way you'd fix your hair - they are so small that we should'nt even worry about them that much. On the other hand, they contribute quite largely to how a person is perceived by others - ex. by wearing a specific fashion style, people may label you to be a jologs, a goth, a pop princess or just like the rest of the university population.

At this point though, I am torn between two distinct decisions. My mother is inviting me to go to the beach with her, her friends and my siblings to Batangas this Friday-Saturday. A very tempting all expense paid treat that's for sure. On the other hand, my organization is going to RedBox for a Karaoke night, to be followed by a haunting attempt in Ben Ching's house where supposedly we would be challenged to walk the "path less taken". Not to mention, Marie has just informed me that there would be an MYMP gig somewhere (not that I am a fan). On Saturday night, my high school peers have been asking me to go out with them for some spontaneous gimik which appeals to me very much. I am also taking into consideration the choir practice which I would have to schedule either on Friday night or on Monday (since there's no classes). There would be a performance on the 3rd of December and all they could sing is "Angels we have heard on high.." WTF! Why does everything have to happen all at the same time?


This would just be a series of words which only some people could understand. Thus...

Rejection. Confession. Separation. Return. Admission. Low. Esteem. Dignity. Lost? I. Convenience good. Easy. Cheap. Disposable? Feed the ego. Exhausted. Efforts. Taken for granted. Could it be? Word of honor. Broken. Eversince. I love you. Believe? I need. Assure. Reassure. Girls need. Appreciation. Proofs. Start doubting. Thinking. Pondering. Should I? Worry. Stay? Help.

I Am.. Therefore I Am

Just wanted to post something about who I am. This test seems accurate to me.

Your Personality Is

Rational (NT)

You are both logical and creative. You are full of ideas.
You are so rational that you analyze everything. This drives people a little crazy!

Intelligence is important to you. You always like to be around smart people.
In fact, you're often a little short with people who don't impress you mentally.

You seem distant to some - but it's usually because you're deep in thought.
Those who understand you best are fellow Rationals.

In love, you tend to approach things with logic. You seek a compatible mate - who is also very intelligent.

At work, you tend to gravitate toward idea building careers - like programming, medicine, or academia.

With others, you are very honest and direct. People often can't take your criticism well.

As far as your looks go, you're coasting on what you were born with. You think fashion is silly.

On weekends, you spend most of your time thinking, experimenting with new ideas, or learning new things.

Monday, November 21, 2005

Dear Santa...

Dear Santa,

I know that you know that I don't believe in you eversince I was small. I know that I've not been the perfect little angel my parents have always dreamed that I would be. I know that I am most likely to receive coal if ever you intend to give me anything this Christmas, but anyway, there's still 35 days before Christmas so I am listing down my wishlist for my friends to see and ehem ehem.. if you don't intend to do your job right.

My Christmas wish list for the year 2005 (is the following but is not limited to...)

1. An original audio CD
2. An animation dedicated to me
3. Other specially-made-for-me gifts
4. A really good book
( fiction, classics, cooking, how to for dummies, arts and crafts, lifestyle, parodies, etc.)
5. A bundle of non skipping, uncanted (shots), unpixelated (shots), full cut pirated dvds
6. An ukay ukay shopping spree
7. Notebooks and stationaries
8. Gothic apparel and accessories
9. Ampao with real money inside
10. Parokya ni Edgar to serenade me with their latest single, Gitara

P.S. Miss Zamora to fall helplessly in love with me! and play me a song in her guitar! wahahaha:D

Okay, and I'm just gonna keep dreaming on...

Saturday, November 19, 2005

To Dream Is Simply Divine

After the leadership seminar, I decided to list down some of the goals I would like to achieve for myself. Although they are all somewhat realistic in nature, I cannot promise myself that I can fulfill all of them. Hopefully though, I would be able to accomplish most. Finish 10 and I'll perhaps be happy.

My 20 Aims for myself:
1. Be able to speak Chinese (Mandarin, specifically) fluently
2. Buy a house with a garden plot
3. Have a work published in the newspaper
4. Write a novel
5. Write a novel and have it published
6. Save at least 100,000 pesos by 25
7. Organize a debut party for my younger sister
8. Be good at a sport
9. Be a cast in a musical play
10. Be a lead in a musical play
11. Buy a pair of dogs and breed them
12. Learn to play the piano
13. Travel around the Philippines
14. Travel to Europe
15. Buy an Professional SLR digital camera
16. Make a film documentary
17. Learn to use computer softwares like Adobe programs and Flash
18. Open a business (Restaurant, at the moment)
19. Earn my first million pesos before 40
20. Learn the ultimate meaning of life

Good luck to me. (Especially with no. 20)

Thursday, November 17, 2005

Techno-Idiot Meets Flash Animation

Yesterday, I took a crash course in animation organized by TeamComm. The speaker is among the producers of the award winnning thesis, Egg. He presented many of his interesting works, that I suffered from jealousy because I don't have the means or brains to create the same sort of creations he made.

Being the techno-idiot that I am, "backward thinker" which my mom calls me, I guess I would have to somehow learn to catch up with the trends. My high school peers are not as keen as my college cliques regarding the immense variations that could be created with just an Adobe Photoshop or Flash program. Change has truly manifested itself in technnology within the span of a few years - from cellphones to computers to iPods - we are helpless witnesses who have to buy into these advancements in order to somehow keep ourselves up to date with the fast paced evolutions, else we allow ourselves to become lost and fruitless in the many potentials that could be created with the power of technology. The predicament rises with the economic investments that is necessitated in order to keep up with the illusion of being cultured and informed- the price to be modern.

I am not techno-phobic, for if I am, then it would be ironic for me to writing this entry here, online. Having recently changed my blog layout proved to be quite a task. Having learned and forgotten the basics in notepading a website html, I had to slowly find ways to furnish my blog through trial and error. As a rememberance to my previous blog which boasted the movie, "Ever After", I got this flash creation, playing in the tune of Bonnie Baily's Ever After, from the website of Ramon del Prado, the speaker of yesterday's crash course animation. Check it out!

Wednesday, November 16, 2005

Inner Universe In A Nutshell

I got this from Hazel's blog and decided to give it a shot. I love these personality ek-eks even though at times they could be a bunch of bull*. Here's what they have to say about me. It's for you to decide whether you'll take it as it is, or discard it like another folded poker hand.

Your Inner Child Is Happy
You see life as simple, and simple is a very good thing.You're cheerful and upbeat, taking everything as it comes.And you decide not to worry, even when things look bad.You figure there's just so many great things to look forward to.


I turn into a nymphomaniac when the moon is full! Bwahahaha! :D

Tuesday, November 15, 2005

Feel Our Pain

People say that cutting youself is stupid. It is going a hundred and eighty degrees (according to Ben's correction) from one's nature of survival. They often times label "cutters" as immature individuals who are so sucked up with their own dementia that they cannot deal positively with reality, instead try means in order to either escape it or attract attention to themselves for people to pity them or whatever things. Those may be a select number of reasons. Cutting seems to be a way of calling out that they need psychological help, but those rationales cannot be generalized to all.

Sometimes cutting oneself, which I do on my arms and thighs at times, helps. I may give many reasons as to why I do this kind of thing, and people may still continually see me in a suicidal, incomprehensible, misunderstood, i-crave-for-attention light, but I don't care. It helps me. At times, I need to divert my anxiety and tension; being stressed out does not in any way contribute in a person's lucid manner of thinking - thus, for times which I lack a blade, I pinch myself till I could practically pull the flesh off my skin - physical pain detours emotional distress/ puzzlement. Another rationale as to why I cut, it makes me feel alive. It feels like a moment managed to fuse together so beautifully two opposites of life and death, and yet who said these two are opposites. Ironic, "The moment we are born, we begin to die."

Below are excerpts from email correspondences between me and my cousin, who is also a self-confessed "cutter". Perhaps our online letters would somehow shed light to our perspectives.

I don't cut myself often anymore, don't worry, and when I do its not kill myself. Its not on the wrist. I just use a blade and make small cuts on the arm itself. I don't know why but the sudden rush makes me feel in control. It seems more like that it is a testament that life is real. It keeps me sane really, kinda distracts me from all the sucky things that are happening. For me, to flirt with death is an acknowledgement of life, testing its patience with you. But I am not playing around with death, not yet, i guess. I just want that rush of weakness and power that comes when you get a wound.

Me Cuz:
cutting for me was for emotinal issues. i suffered (and still sorta do) from chronic depression, and the only way i was able to deal with it was to cut myself. that physical pain took my mind off the emotional pain i was going thru. i completely understand how it helps u know that ur actually alive. some days, when i wasnt dying emotionally, i was emotionally numb. as in, i felt like a walkin shell. those days i didnt know if i was dead or alive, so id cut myself simply just to FEEL something, to know that in fact i wasnt a walking ghost on this planet. believe me, when it comes to cutting i understand. ppl who dont cut wont ever understand, but if u talk to "fellow cutters" as me and my friends call them, they feel ur pain...literally!! =)


Sunday, November 13, 2005

Mirror, Mirror On The Wall

Last night, I attended a leadership seminar (organized by our organization) with the acclaimed journalist, Wilson Lee Flores, as the speaker. He is my aunt's good peer, when they were in their elementary or high school years in Grace Christian High. My aunt used to tell me that he was among the "inaapi" - and look where he is right now.

During the discussion, he mentioned an incident about his nephew wherein the boy declined his classmates' nomination of him as vice president. This matter was taken seriously by the uncle who kept saying that the worst thing to do is to not try. I was in fact slapped by this thought for I forwent many appealing opportunities because I was either ashamed to be confident.

A few days earlier, my grandfather was inviting me to be a candidate for Miss Chinatown. It seemed so outrageous that I had to ask him twice if he was really serious. Apparently, he was. He mentioned that if any "make-overs" or trainings were necessary, he would be willing to fund it for me. I was shocked, obviously, by his persistence on the matter. He mentioned that he also has many peers among the judges (that didn't sound good).

I replied that compared to the typical Chinese female, my body type is big boned and therefore has more round-ness rather than "stick"-ness to it. Also the thought of publicly strutting in a bathing suit would definitely give me a heart attack (not that I am a likely candidate) - in addition, to wear a bathing suit really confidently, I can't help thinking of a bikini wax. I also mentioned that my legs were like two tree stumps, big and fat, unlike the slim "Tina Turner"-ish legs my grandmother flaunts in her earlier years. I happen to have inherited my "fats" from my mother's gene pool.

My grandfather said no more except that if I didn't want, there is no sense in him forcing me. I was saddened though for I don't really think that I am ugly. It's not that I am not really confident about my looks; I have won a beauty contest (children) in our Barangay when I was younger, had a reasonable number of past suitors and a good bunch of relatives who seem sincere in telling me that I don't look half bad. I mean, my skintone is lighter and at times more fair compared to many chinese girls because of my Spanish decent. It is neither the muddy yellow nor the pure pearl white, but a combination of the two leaning more on the latter. My figure, more specifically the first and last of the usual v. stats are gained also from that decent, although I would like to believe the whole package is very European. My only problem would perhaps be my nose and the heart-circular shape of my face which makes me look more fat that than I really am.

I guess I should be content with the way I look like though. Media could really corrupt the way people perceive each other. Darn. Now, what?


Played poker last night in Gretch's house and as a whole, I could just as well be addicted to it.

Thursday, November 10, 2005

Put A Bag Over My Face

I am such a loser. Thank God for vanity.

Before I went to class, I decided to go check myself on the mirror. I wondered my shirt seemed to have all these loose threads and said to myself, heck maybe its cause its all worn out already, been wearing the shirt for months now. And then it struck me, why can I see all the seams? Why are the overlapping edges visible? Checked the whole shirt, front and back, then I ran in one of the cubicles. FUCK!

Okay, how the heck did this happen?

Last night after I took a bath and before I sleep, I'd arrange all the things I'll be needing for the next day. A nightly ritual, if you must call it. Having deviated from my planner's daily fashion schedule , I began trying to experiment with my more um.. not so worn shirts and skirts. I took out a violet and brown crisscross ankle length skirt I inherited from my grandmother. I have never worn it and have no idea what shirt to pair it with. Asking tips from my mother didn't seem to be of any help (aside from her suggestions of potential color combinations) since she kept taking out all her unwanted shirts and passing them on to me (which candidly, are still oversized for my body frame, but she kept insisting that they're just fine and my mindset is just too stuck with the spandex generation). Finding no help from my mom, I decided to mix and match, wear the skirt and try on different shirts until I find one to compliment it. I found one which my mom disapproved of, but my dad said to be more tasteful compared to my mother's more insistent choices. When I removed the shirt though, I forgot to turn it outside in.

I woke up with my cellphone vibrating under my pillow. My friend was calling my cellphone to tell me she's outside our gate. Every Wednesday I ride with her to school. Alarmed that I didn't wake up in time, I jumped off the bed, told her some lie to somehow direct her to patience, did my morning ritual then wore the clothes I set aside. And thus, pandemonium!

Wednesday, November 09, 2005


Stole this from Jourdy's blog.

Station 1 The Basics
Call me: Agoo
Height: 5'4"
Hair Color: brown
Eye Color: brown
Where im at: DLSU Communication Arts Computer Desktop

Station 2 HAVE YOU EVER?
Fallen off the bed?: That's an experience.
Failed a subject?: Shows how normal I could be.
Had a dream come true?: Thank God no!

Wearing: a really thin (almost translucent) pink shirt, maong pants with zippers for its pockets and rubber shoes. (and the blue and pink jacket of my 8 year old self, which my mom says to be my dad's gift to her when they were still courting!)
Eating: I'm hungry
Feeling: snotty.
Chatting with: the computer screen.
Listening: to the whirring of the aircon and the incoherent chit chat of the other people here.

Station 4 DO YOU...
Brush ur teeth?: Obsessed with it.
Have any piercings?: Only the ears.
Believe in GOD?: Sometimes I question.

Station 5 FRIENDS
Do u hang out with the opposite sex?: They're fun.
Do u consider yourself popular?: I can't tell.
Do u trust your friends?: Not in an extreme extent.
Are you a good friend?: I don't think I am

Station 6 LAST PERSON YOU...
Talked to on da phone:
Yelled at: the maid? (The laundry area is at the back of our bathroom. You need to yell for people at the back to hear you. I need my hot water!)
Turned down: a wedding proposal (joke!)

Station 7 PERSONAL
What was the worst day of ur life?:
When I was born.

Food: Sushi and Wasabe!
Everyday Drink: As of now, Whitish
Alcoholic Drink: Margarita
Movie: Tim Burton movies aren't bad
Books: Arundhati Roy's God of Small Things
Song/s: Andrew Lloyd Webber and other musicals
Ice cream flavor: Chocolate Mint (or Green Tea)
Magazines: Parent's Magazine (mom used to subscribe here)
Day of the week: Wednesdays
Hang-outs: cyberspace.
Color: black

Station 9 DO YOU
Like to walk in the rain:
Yes. I do that often too.
Like to eat exotic foods: Why not?
Like to kiss sumone ryt now: No. I'm sick.
Like to hit sumone ryt now: I'm up to that.
Like to be a celebrity: (makes a beaming smile)

Station 10 ARE YOU
Mean / Evil: I'm an evil boss (according to the JobFinder)
Beautiful / Goodlooking: Beauty is relative.
Smart: We all are
God fearing: Not as much as I want to be.
Missing Someone ryt now: *winks

Tuesday, November 08, 2005

Snot Riddled Entry

I feel one thing today. Sick. Yesterday I woke up with a running nose, now my body feels feverish plus I've almost finished three rolls of tissue papers. My nose is swollen and red! Rudolf, the Red Nose Asshole.

Mom attributes it to the fact that like to walk around the house without my slippers. The technicians of the detoxfying spa informed me though that fever is sometimes a potential effect from the sudden departure of my bodily toxins. I, on the other hand blame it on the idea that I drank a whole bottle of ice cold C2 even when my body was already shivering in my parents' airconditioned room, not to mention that I haven't been eating my medicine (tien chit, vitamin C and brain invigorating pills) lately. I also haven't been drinking the 2500 pesos worth of Xango fruit juice which my grandmother encourages us to drink daily (30 cc). Man! I hate medicines.

The whole family is now sleeping in my parents' quarters - my siblings' favorite room to sleep in. I, on the other hand, thus require at least five thick blankets just to warm my body and normalize its temperature. The ice queen is struck at last.

I doubt my mom is going to read this entry so I am going to be sharing this story. One time, earlier this year I suddenly had a bad case of food poisoning. I think its because I had fish sisig in a warehouse supermarket with my aunt. My companions (aunt and driver) didn't go through the same ordeal though. I kept throwing up, shitting liquids and was groggy the whole day. This lasted for about two to three days, later on the symptoms came in longer intervals.

My mom being concerned, brought me and my brother (who was constipated for like two to three weeks) to the hospital. The doctor examined us, made a mockery at the fact that my brother and I had two completely opposite cases then made the prescription. Diligently, my mom bought the neccessary medicines, complaining how we managed to drain her wallet with just one visit to the doc.

My brother, to the best of my knowledge, did as he was told. I on the other hand, left all my medicines in my cabinet drawer and was completely self healed within a couple more days - no more nausea, no more diarrhea.

I know I should feel guilty.


I just finished Groyon's Sky Over Dimas, and thus found my teacher more admirable. It was funny though that his manner of writing sometimes mimic the way he discusses his lessons in class that I smile occassionally when faced with his "trademark" phrases. Overall, the book was worth the read and I wonder why I kept procrastinating. It took me three to four attempts before I finally took up the patience and courage to continue further which I later learned to be so worth my time. I enjoyed the book despite the fact that it was laden with all sorts of big words.

I am not up to discussing or critisizing the contents of the novel here though. I lift the responsibility to whoever reading to either take my word for it that it was an enjoyable read (even when I did get lost by the end), or to make their own critique of the book. I am biased in my judgement, bear in mind, for he is one of my favorite professors.

I guess that being sick does have its positive effects, I end up reading more. I've been reading so many books lately that I am hopeful for another trip to the bookstore to buy some more. I need books. I want books. Somebody get me something decent to read!


Today is my sister's birthday. I still don't know what to give her. Feels like an ordinary day, a nothing special day - but why is it that birthdays seemed to have a certain brightness, a particular happiness when I was young. Now, it seems like just another day to pass, nothing significant. Why do we celebrate birthdays? Is it mainly because society says its special when in reality its just a simple commemoration of the day you were born? Why should we even bother when we were born, does it matter that much?

A-choo.. Bless me!

Sunday, November 06, 2005

Purified Me

Tired, tired, tired. This is how I would describe the day.

I woke up earlier than usual for my Religion Three community service where we were expected to tutor the children of Singalong. The children were intensely playful that our energy supply seemed completely inadequate to entertain, not to mention just hold the attention of the whole bunch.

When I arrived home, I asked our maid to kindly cook me some fried rice of my preference. I often ask them to do some interesting combinations which often times I end up regretting, but the point is - at least I know. I love combining this with that, that sometimes when I cook, I believe that the delicacy I would come up with would be completely be appreciated by my own consumption and pleasure. I asked the cook to slice and cook some ham, fry them, add garlic, salt and then rice. After, season the rice mixture with curry powder, some basil, some oregano powder and ground pepper. I was tempted to add egg into the whole mixture but later decided otherwise. When the rice was transfered onto a bowl, I told her to grate some cheese above the rice. The whole thing is later topped with a fried egg. And the whole experiment tasted good - for me that is.

My mom asked me to wash the dishes, even the ones which I did not contribute to the pile of soiled kitchen utensils. Thus I came up with this thought - being helpful is to do something which is not expected of you to do but must be done in order to spare another the inconvenience of doing what you are expected to have taken the initiative to do. In simplier terms, people are in some way hoping that you'd somehow sympathize and meddle with their situation by extending as much aid as possible. When it comes to my mother, being helpful loses it meaning to me, since rather than being a voluntary act, it becomes duty.

My sister being the goody mama's girl that she is, quickly responded when I was washing the dishes which irritated me since she was distracting me or becoming such an obstacle in my endeavor and thus rather than dismissing her blantantly because of being a nuisance, I just left the whole affair to her to complete.

One can be helpful for some, but nosy for others. In my opinion, helpfulness comes best when asked rather than expected.


I have just gone through a detoxifying session. My grandmother after having been inflicted with a disease had begun to propagate proper health and nutrition to our family and thus all sorts of novel inventions or acclaimed products that promote well being are easily considered. The idea of detoxifying is said to be a newly introduced process here in the Philippines wherein one's bodily toxins as well as negative emotions are pulled out from one's feet and into a plastic bin of knee high warm water. A heater-like sphere is placed into the water where one's feet would also be placed. One is asked to remove all sorts of metal from one's body as to not interfere with the machine's processes.

After forty minutes, my water yielded an almost black liquid which everybody commented to be of an extreme case. My secretions were far more darker compared to my parents and siblings which I attribute to my high intake of processed foods like bacon and ham, not to mention my unapplauded ability to harbor anger and pain for a really long periods of time without any form of positive sublimation. The man who facilitated the whole procedure called it my "confession box.", my mother on the other hand compared it to my soul. Black in, black out. And I acknowledged that in some way it is true. I was informed that constant exposure to radiation emitted from computers and televisions are potential culprits as well. In addition, white bread and other white products as salt and sugar prove to be toxic to the body.

My water had red spots which they call my blood clots, orange from detoxifying my liver I think, brown from potential nicotine intakes or second hand nicotine exposure, black from metals drawn from softdrink cans and mercury from fishes. All in all, the encouraged 14 sessions could be completed within a month or two, since the process could be repeated two days after.

It is called detoxifying spa, and the people handling it go directly to your house, clips on the machine to your plugs and start removing your bodily as well as emotional grimes and baggages. Most of their customers were said to have lost weight, gained joint flexibilities and all sorts of miracles- including the erasure of grave diseases as cancer and diabetes. Another of its positive effects, they testify is the uplifting of one's well being. I guess, after that episode, I'm more enlightened, more calm, more peaceful - else this is some sort of placebo effect on me.

I wonder if the pimples on my face would disappear after this session. If it does then...

What the world needs now is not love, its the detoxifying spa. World Peace!

Saturday, November 05, 2005

Mission Accomplished

Mission No 1. Have enough sleep, wake up for vocalization

That would have simply been easy had there been no complications added. I wouldn't really call what happened last night "sleep". I woke up several times for no apparent reason, felt like I didn't go through any REMs or did I acknowledge any sleep - like I just closed my eyes and opened them - but time magically crossed 5 hours. I could blame it on the fact that I was given the "honor" to sleep on my dad's reclining chair since he needs to rest on the bed (for his bone fracture). The reclining chair would probably be one of my dad's most important possessions after his cellphone and laptop, this is where I reckon he would be performing his daily rituals of manliness (elaborations need not be given here). Thus, my mom being a religious fanatic taped several exorcism prayers on the chair which irritated me when I actually slept on the chair since the tapes eventually gets loose and the stickiness would either attach itself onto one's pillows, blankets, even onto one's skin.

Upon waking up, I immediately went to the children's room to continue reading Groyon's Sky Over Dimas, I have gone farther compared to most of my previous attempts in reading the said novel. It was good, really - and I'm beginning to get drawn to the family history of the Jarabases. In the course of my reading, my mom broke my concentration by texting on my cellphone that I'd have to tutor my little sister her spelling words, adverbs and irregular verbs. I was alarmed since it was already 11 and I have auditions by 1. My dad happened to receive a similar message and thus told me to call my mom. The episode ended with my mom reprimanding me on the phone and banging it rudely. (I hate it when that happens) Thus, I was stuck to teaching my sister "english".

While teaching her though, I took the liberty of vocalizing. My brother, I thought, stole the computer again where I stored all my vocalizations so I had to bring out my friend's bulky electric organ to practice.

Mission No 2. Have resume printed

I ended the lesson by 2. My dad consented me to take leave. I had to ride a jeepney since there were no other modes of transportation available at home, as well as for the fact that I have only 60 pesos in my wallet. When I arrived at Morayta, I went to a computer shop to have my resume printed. (Funny, after my resume was printed, the guy at the computer shop texted me an hour later asking me if I could be his friend. Man! well, also he was kind to thank me for visiting his shop)

Mission No 3. Be at the auditions

I arrived at the auditions at 4 pm, where I exhausted all my 60 bucks since I had to ride a tricycle demanding 30 pesos from me. Running out of time, I had to take the offer. I arrived last and to my dismay, the production was not as grand as I had initially expected it. It was a small scale Les Miserables concert organized for Filipino Chinese youths. My cousins and the other participants are all students of the judge, which leaves me rather out of place. But in all totality, I believe I have exhibited my singing as well as acting prowess convincingly in contrast to the others (which I blame to my more advanced age from a year to a decade - although there are a number of older participants). I am, in my belief, rather inept in singing compared to the other singers who have constantly been exposed to such.

Mission No 4. Get home

The auditions concluded at 5 pm. I texted my mother to inform her of my need of transportation to get home. She replied to be done in Chiang Kai Shek by 5, unfortunately, when I walked towards the school, I learned she left by 4:30. I called home to find her resting at home. Having no more cash in my wallet, I had to take the initiative to find a way. I texted one of my peers, and although she replied, I have already walked all the way to Recto by then. Walking back and forth the two Chiang Kai structures disappointingly to find my mother not there was tiring enough, so when I had resolved to walk from Binondo all the way home, I was aware that I would be subjecting myself not only to physical pain (my feet hurt at night badly whenever I walk too much) but also to the risk of danger since I walked a little before 6. I arrived home by 7 pm.

I've learned and observed many things on the streets which I would have easily dismissed had I been riding a vehicle. The sights and smells of each location are highlighted and emphasized more effectively. I walked all the way to FEU, where I took a shortcut to Espana. It was not as tiring as I thought it would be, although by the time I reached UST I could already feel the pangs on my feet with every step that I take. I could blame it perhaps on the fact that my feet still have some sort of injury from my constant ankle strains.

I thank my lucky star though that I did not encounter any drug addicts or perverts who are potential dangers on the street. Although I counted a minimum of five guys who whispered under their breaths when I passed by "Hello Ganda", "Mag-ingat ka ha", "Wow bola!" and all sorts of comments and greetings, I ignored them completely as I always do.

I am thankful also that I am aware of the roads that could lead me home - more importantly, good crowded roads where I could easily be seen by passers by just in case some nutcase would try to take advantage of me. It was an exceptional experience - I am proud of myself.

Additional Deed

My brothers and I finished the QFG5, unfortunately I have failed to make my character marry Katrina. Being the persistent player that I am, I am considering replaying the whole game in order to try winning her heart by other means since I stupidly deleted or overwritten previous saved games.

Missions Accomplished.

Thursday, November 03, 2005

The Sweet Smell of Flowers

My friend sent me a text message. It spoke of a man and a woman celebrating their first year anniversary. The man gave the woman a dead rose. The woman reacted, slapped the poor man and left him without hearing his explanation. The dead rose - "This is me without you."

That's so sad.

I would have appreciated the dead rose even without the explanation. It would just show how well the guy knows me! A living rose would eventually die, but a dead rose would always remain. I am drawn towards the shriveled petals and wrinkles of the dried up rose, with its brown stems blackening and brittle leaves falling. The more compact and tightly held it is, the more perhaps I'd like it. You see, the flower would have to be cared for in such a manner that drooping or dismantling of petals could be avoided. It is not likely that one may find a rotting rose holding firmly in the streets of Dimasalang. It would have to be well thought of. In fact, symbolically, it feels that death cannot separate from beauty and thus love cannot truly be parted upon death. (this is the romantic side of me, in reality, hecka! corpse bride hello!)

My friend gave me a couple of dead well preserved roses last May, and I loved them - placed them on the pencil holder on my desk I did, so that I'll always see it. Unfortunately, it was thrown away by some creep who I don't know.

But roses aren't my favorite flower. In fact, if not for its constant usage in romantic scenes, I cannot really attest why they make so many women vulnerable. If you still don't know my favorite flower - I guess we may not be as close as you think we are. When we're in her car, my friend often looks at me or makes a sign at me whenever we see a vendor selling these flowers on the street (*clue!) I wonder though how someone could package it to make it look pretty rather than on a tied string. (* another clue!)

A guy tried to make a surprise birthday for me pestered one of my girlfriends about my favorite things. My favorite cake (which he got), my favorite flower (which he found out, but didn't want to buy so I got a white rose instead - here we go again with the rose.)

Here's a twisted version on the creation of woman told to me by my brother. ( I kept laughing, especially when he makes his absurd comments)

God made Adam. God decided to make Adam a partner. While Adam is sleeping, God takes a rib from Adam and clones him. Now there are two Adams in paradise.

God looks at the clone Adam, "this won't do." So he manipulated the clone Adam's features. Saw his tinnie winnie and decided to pull it off. God pulls off clone Adam's dick which runs all the way to down there - leaving a big hole. The clone Adam screams in pain, the "Adam's apple" gets thrown out of his throat and his voice went to a higher pitch. Biological expert, God heals the wounds of the clone Adam's lost manhood thus the clitoris.

God wakes up the original Adam and says, "Adam, here's woman." Adam looks at his manipulated clone, thinks "God have mercy!". But God continues, "She's perfect, don't you think, because I created her" The term "perfect" then imprints itself on Adam's head. "Ahhh.. she's perfect because she is made to be perfect." Adam thinks, then becomes Eve's husband.

When the two perfect creatures were banished from Paradise, they later on decided to procreate. Thus with the constant crossing of perfection, it diffuses to the children and thus their later generations did not become perfect anymore. Diseases began, people turned ugly and thus the race of humanity today. And that is the profound secret of the universe which is kept locked and key in the depths of my brother's little brain (or so he says.)

Wednesday, November 02, 2005

Better Gluttony than Purgatory

Quoting the title from my brother, I have been eating to my heart's content (more, really). The previous days, we've been eating out - breakfast, lunch and dinner - and I realized that I'm going to puke any second now from gluttony. My brother, an advocate of thrift and frugality and weird practicality, kept telling me to help him finish off the remaining viands. We would even compete how many glasses of bottomless iced teas we could finish. I believe that the culprit as to why I feel stuffed so easily is because of our competitive intake of liquids. Funny, that we get full almost at the same time, and yet we still continue consuming the food until none would be left to be packed.

My evil brothers are now making fun of me that as of now, my body figure resembles a capital letter "P", when I get older and pregnant, I'm going to end up as a capital "B". Heck, the thought often sends shivers up my spine, while it keeps my mother and relatives amused at their wit. I call my other brother a living "O" because of his repulsive belly and the other a letter "C" because of his "hunchbacked" posture. We labeled our youngest, my sister, a small letter "b" also because of her pertruding belly. My bro kept saying that when she gets older she's also going to be a letter "B", although my mom says the upper curve would be smaller than the lower curve. It's funny, to be compared - to a letter.

Today, I've walked the cementary rather than diligently help out my relatives prepare for the annual offerings like a good girl should. In totality, the day could be considered interesting that, like the cementary grounds, the streets are so conjested in particular close-to-the-cementery areas while others have barely a car or two cruising down the pavement. Although it is not as quiet as I want it to be, I enjoyed the adventure. I was really musing on the thought of getting lost in the cementary grounds, unfortunately though, my friend (who I picked up for company) didn't seemed amused with the idea and decided to keep to the safe road (especially since he admits that he doesn't know his way around the premises - heck neither did I when I first tried to walk the cementary maze).

This Friday, there will be a Les Miserables audition, and I am dying to try out. My cousin, a multi-awarded singer will also be applying. I don't know if I could really pass though - constant rejection could surely shake my confidence, and getting rejected is something which I've not only been constantly (if not consistently) exposed to, I am rather well acquainted with the feeling of non-acceptance. My talents never seem to surpass normalcy - it could only be considered at a "nothing special" caliber that I end up being capable of doing many things at a mediocre level ( I can draw somehow, I can sing, I can write, I can play (not the correct term) the piano, I can philosophize, I can cook - but none done in any "praise her, she's a goddess" manner). I would really like to excel in one particular feat, unfortunately I don't seem to have all that dedication or time or money to pursue anything worthwhile. Am I supposed to get stuck at this stage of stagnancy and unprofessionalism? I know this won't bring me success, and yet I still don't seem to know how the heck am I supposed to remedy my problem, especially due to its intangible and poorly manifested nature. I need help.

My brother's been going to a psychiatrist whom which my mom pays a weekly fee of 800 bucks. My mom used to tell me that I would need to go to one too, but I simply replied that I would surely contradict the doctor regarding everything - that it would be senseless and an absolute waste of money (thank God, my mom agreed with me on this). I don't think I need psychological help, although many think I do - I just need someone to talk to and share ideas with - someone who won't be too repulsed with what I think, and would in fact be so kind as to extend the conversation topics into fields of unexplored ideas or extremely wacko stuffs.

Also, okay, so I also do enjoy intellectual debates. As much as possible, I do not wish to accept ideas at face value, but rather question why such is so - one thing which my mom finds both appealing and appalling. I could spend the whole day debating or philosophizing that she tells me that I drain her - I wonder how I'd find a partner in life with a personality like mine. On second thought, accept me as I am right?

Tuesday, November 01, 2005

Near Death Experience

An hour and a half. I'd only have to wait so long before it would officially be the first of November. Another long day to be spent in the company of the dead as well as the not so dead. I admit that the whole ritual of waiting around could be considered as a complete waste of time, and with the consideration that the traffic of physical bodies in the cementary could completely destroy the peace and tranquility I seek whenever I am there makes the event seem more dragging. And yet, it is tradition and cultural to pay one's respects to the deceased - yet I ask, when the ones who care for the dead die and the family members all transfer their prayers to the newly deceaseds, would that signify one's dying lack of respect towards the ones who died earlier?

I am really stuffed today since we ate in the Japanese restaurant of my grandfather's friend, and she kept serving us the house delicacies for free or for a discounted price. Tomorrow, we would be faced with the same open zipper, big belly predicament. We would be forced to eat good food with relatives who I have little concern for. I am not much of a fan of eating, although my body size would say otherwise. I wonder why I could consume about three cupfuls of rice without feeling stuffed when I was in my first year of college, and now, I could barely finish a cupful of rice without complaining how full I am.

My friend keeps taunting me that if we'd ever get into an argument, he'd really get sacked because of my size. Its not such a big deal that I have a reservoir of lard under my skin, and yet when it is constantly repeated to you to go for exercise or on a diet, it does become frustrating. I don't have any intention of gaining a physique like Paris Hilton or the anorexic frame of the Tim Burton puppets - I am already content with my current body figure. I just wish people would somehow give me a break. If they can't handle the fact that I am happy with the way I look, tell me then please have the decency to quit reminding me or if worse comes to worse, just leave me alone. Please. Life is complicated as it is without me having to worry how I fit in the standards of other people other tan myself.

I am not a big fan of diets, I believe that to eat is divine. I should be thankful that I have food to feed my mouth rather than none at all. I get all the exercise I could need from the daily strenous activities I get into - from carrying the electronic piano to the third floor, to running back and forth to walking Taft Avenue - I don't think that the gym, though is the most common way, is the only means in which I person could "exercise". Moving by itself is exercise.


My brother and I almost left the laptop in the Japanese restaurant. Good thing my younger brother was naggy enough to allow us to remember. Its a definite near death experience. I would have died on the spot if we didn't find it. Thank God for kind waiters and waitresses - of - not to mention my grandfather's association-mate/owner.

We are currently into Quest For Glory 5. I've completed QFG1 and partially QFG2. One needs the handbook to complete the game - unfortunately, being the disorganized person that I am, I can't remember the secret place where I kept it - or did I keep it? We also played QFG3 and 4, completing the 3 and not the 4. Now QFG5 proves to bind me and my brothers together in anticipation of the next Rite to Rulership Quest. I intend to marry the vampiress Katrina of QFG4 by saving her in the realm of Hades (I am a wizard and thus is compatible). My younger brother (a paladin) intends to marry the warrior princess who also wants to rule Silmaria, Elsa von Spielberg of QFG1. My other brother (a fighter) on the other hand, upon realizing that my younger bro wants Elsa decides to try to win the enchantress Erana's heart. Among the four women who we could court and marry (including Nawari, the prostitue for the thief), the most difficult to woo is Katrina and thus I am enticed by the challenge.

According to my brother's information guide from the internet, she's the most materialistic of all. She also does not like the character to flirt with other characters aside from herself. I've learned that in QFG4, she was the traitor who sacrificed Erana in order to summon the evil one. Unfortunately, when our character, the Hero, comes to battle the evil one, she decides to sacrifice her own life for my victory, since she has "fallen inlove" with the character somehow. She's one interesting babe, with the hood and all, I think I don't mind being pushed around by someone like her.