Monthly Archives: November 2010

taking a break from my workhorse life

i’ve been a tegan and sara fan since, hmm, forever.

i am not a music video person.

i always make it a point to listen to a song; not watch its video as i try to listen to the words and the instruments. (i am easily distracted.)

yes, i am an aural and olfactory person.

so imagine my surprise, when after craving for tegan and sara song, i flipped tabs and saw that they are actually twins!! see for yourself

i know they’re lesbians, i know that they’re a singing duo, and that one of their songs was covered by the white stripes (the white stripes! i know, right?).

but their being twins? ang galing!!

here’s another one

brilliant, awesome pair. and they’re twins!

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may saysay at may dating

in a straightforward english translation: has relevance and has impact

today, sir jimmy abad started critiquing our poems in class. as luck would have it, my poem was the first piece to be critiqued. oh, the nausea..

i covered my ears when he started reading my poem aloud. but i gave up my idiocy because gemino abad himself is devoting time to read and critique a piece i wrote. that’s enough to toughen you up.

the long and short of it is that i didn’t mess up.

i am still holding on to one of his comments: “I think this is pretty good.”

giddy. as in cheshire cat smile.

maybe a fluke. think so, too. yet: cheshire cat smile.

always an outsider

that was my first thought when a high school classmate sent a message urging to mark calendars for a batch reunion this december 11.

jazz and i have a theory about the motivation behind this reunion. it’s not even rocket science to begin with. it’s an authorized and costly way to hold an intellectual or psychological pissing contest. who are the doctors in the house? who are the lawyers in the house? raise your hands, y’all wonderful creatures of God!

the second thought that came to mind was: i have to have something to do on december 11. hmm, can i have pride march moved from november 4 to december 11? nope. the organizers don’t even know me. can i go out with my family? nope. what about with friends? maybe we can bug mako and peach for a quick pizza party? or scour areas for exclusive parties? or i can attend a conference, a seminar, or even a wake, a construction all-nighter, a prayer vigil! anything but that.

but what will most probably happen is this: jazz and i will attend the reunion. i will dress up and wear killer shoes. i will drink and hang out with jazz’s crazy friends. i will invent careers when a batchmate asks, “where do you work now?” “oh, i work at the rizal stadium pool. i clean the tiles. with a comb.” or “i stencil signs.” or “i teach cats to dance.”

the pro to this: i may be able to air-kiss the people i abhor and relive the times i conjured them as dart targets in my ally mcbeal maniacal scenarios. always nice to relive those kinds of memories.

listening to: TLC’s Creep


i hate Glee.

that’s one of the facts difficult to change about me. that’s one of the things i won’t ever change. it’s not just because of lea michele. the show is too perky, too happy. except for jane lynch’s presence, Glee sucks big time.


guesting GWYNETH PALTROW is nothing short of brilliant. and sneaky from the point of view of a Glee detractor yet Gwyneth fan like me.

she can sing. she can dance, not to mention she can act. she has a commanding presence that leaves you breathless. she is nothing short of amazing. she’s a great mother, she speaks Spanish and gives the language a sizzling twang. she lets it hang loose, she blogs, she’s of a classic beauty. being married to a talented musician is a simple addition to her already compelling personality.

i am not a Glee convert, but i skipped work hour, sacrificed a Celebrity Apprentice episode, moved bath time to sit through Glee to watch her, i mean, the episode.

i can’t remember exactly when i started liking her with a passion, but definitely that happened when i was in high school. as i get older, i wish so hard to exude a similar charisma like hers. i know that’s like teaching marianne rivera to speak english in a decent manner, but hey, i can dream, right?

i had to sit through perky singing and acting plus lea michele’s irritating acting and speaking voice. but every thing was worth it — for that bit showing jane lynch’s character and holly holiday (that’s gwyneth’s) hanging out, for her performance of cee-lo’s fuck you (or forget you for the sissies) (gangster rock rocks, right?!), for her All that Jazz rendition (oh, i almost didn’t notice lea michele in that part. my bad. *grin)

and since Glee’s on a roll (i heard javier bardem’s guesting), maybe they can guest keira knightley, scarlett johansson, james mcavoy, and natalie portman, too. or maybe not.

Glee sucks, but Gwyneth brought it on. she brought it.

mary todd lincoln in the house!

Bewitched by Gwyn yet again

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in the flesh

…gemino h. abad, critic and literary god, before me in the flesh…

today marks our first day for poetry workshop. he’s behind his desk, beaming, smiling, reading aloud fragments from a book.

“your best friend should be the dictionary.”

“it’s what you do with language, and it’s what language does to you. hmm, that calls for a paper…”

“you have to be more careful because sometimes words can demolish you.” (ganda.)

this is the honeymoon period, the calm before the storm, a time i cherish before we go headlong into poetry workshop mode.

first day high. 🙂

let’s see how things fare with j. neil garcia tomorrow (echoing rachel zoe: i die.).

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to a dear, about-to-say-goodbye friend

They said we couldn’t play it so we’re putting it on.

You were closer to me than some of my friends were in high school.

You knew what songs to serenade me in the wee hours of the morning.

You were the one who spelled out the title of a song by Lamb when I was going crazy figuring it out on my own.

I would come home to you after a sad day, after an embarrassing day, after a ho-hum day. You said the right words to cheer me up.

You never compromised, you became baduy or old-school at the right moments, you tried to please me with your songs.

You gave new flavor to my weekends.

You were never “trying hard”.

You rocked my world since I was 12 years old.

Exams were made more bearable because I would always loook forward to rushing home to you.

I spent New Year’s Eve and Christmas Eve by your side, sometimes pissed, sometimes elated by the songs that made it to your countdown.

You get me, my quirks, the bands I dig, the genres I loved, the songs that touched me. You introduced countless singers to me — Nine Inch Nails, Stone Temple Pilots, Collective Soul, Cynthia Alexander, Hungry Young Poets, Moonpools and Caterpillars, Foo Fighters, Metallica, Suede, Gin Blossoms, Goo Goo Dolls, Pan, Pupil, No Doubt (before it moved to mainstream), Jars of Clay, OK Go, Rage Against the Machine, Radiohead, The Jerks, The Clash, Sugarfree, Dishwalla, Garbage, Korn, Itchyworms, Urbandub, Radioactive sago project, Updharma down, Taken by cars, Kamikazee, Wolfgang, Razorback, Silverchair, and a lot more.

Countdown107, RockEd, Not Radio, Stairway to 7 and a slew of hard-hitting, wonderful things (except some segments in later years that were “too commercial”) that are about to end…is this really goodbye, NU?

Shit, I hate goodbyes. I hate endings when what’s about to end is a pure, beautiful thing that’s been part of my life.



Song for this post: Sad but True by Metallica
State of mind: Separation anxiety

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latest peeve

*this is me channeling james thurber and his irritation towards the spreading “you know” virus in conversations, circa 1955

My latest peeve: when people take for granted the difference in usage between two colloquial terms: “yey” and “yay”.

“yey” is shortcut for yehey. it’s usually blurted out when one’s giddy-happy.

“yay” is a negative reaction, maybe stemming from the term “Yikes”.

i’ve seen this confusion countless times, and I can only rant about it here.

and don’t get me started with “rant” and “rave”.

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surreal indeed

i woke up today with an urgent plan: to print my form 5A for my supposed enrollment tomorrow.

most of the time, being OC has its perks (sometimes, though, people do give me hurt looks for my being rude, but it’s quite okay). since i was logged in my crs/student account, i went through the registration schedule. being an M.A. student, i didn’t quite know where to categorize myself. still, i made inquiry and was told i could enroll today.

i dragged myself out of the house at around 11am, toting the forms and a book and a slew of items inside my bag. i didn’t have time to fix my bag. so it came as no surprise to find inside my toffee Crumpler tote a black belt.

i categorize this day as a surreal one.

here is a handful of proofs:

– Ate Julie of English department snapped at me. or to be more exact, lamented to no one after i asked a simple question. there is a discrepancy in the “summons” of the higher ups re the number of pre-req subjects i should take, and i was desperate to track the original copy of the letter they sent to me. that was my concern. and she snapped and lamented and complained. afterwards, she answered my question. i love drama especially if i triggered it.

– I was advised by isabelita banzon-mooney *tralala
yep, another poet that i idolize. and so i had that cheshire grin again, and i switched from “Prof” to “Ma’am” to address her. i controlled myself from blurting out that i love her poetry. starstruck, sigh.

– I finished paying for my units at around 2pm. Yep, you read it right. 2pm. If you read my misadventures in my previous enrollment, you’d understand my relief and my tears of joy. and the girl one saw traipsing down the hall of the registration building? well, that was me.

– i am in correspondence with Karl de Mesa, another writer, for an article assignment i bugged him to take on. i reported on a short memoir he wrote for class, and it’s nice to correspond with him now.

it’s a very surreal day, indeed. i can’t even sum it up for you. maybe it’s too huge for words. very surreal. i had to pinch myself twice to see if i were still anchored in real life.