I'm returning to blogging because social media happened.
Yes, four years after my last entry, I am resolving to come back to writing on this blog because social media. Since 2010, Facebook, Twitter, and the rest of the gang exploded in popularity, and along with this development, the shrinkage of everyone's attention span. No one seems to appreciate long-form content anymore. Everything is limited to a few characters as dictated by some program algorithm. On the other hand, people who tend to ramble in their writings (me included) are being threatened of not having an audience because no one reads long articles. It's all about attention-grabbing content these days. Get your readers hook, line, and sinker on the first paragraph, because their attention would be somewhere else by the second. So many websites have adapted a writing style of lists and short paragraphs to make sure their readers don't wander and click on the x icon or swipe down to close the page.
This presents a chicken-or-egg conundrum - which came first, short attention spans or short content? Did one cause the other? Did short content formats cause people to be over anything that requires them to sit down and read for five minutes? Or did people just get used to snippets of information since that's all they have access to every day?
Anyway, as someone who handles both content and social media in the office, I feel the need to write longer for fear that whatever talent I have will continue to deteriorate. With the prevalence of text message spelling and nonsensical trending topics, there is a need to continue writing without restricting the use of vowels and thinking of things other than what North West's sibling will be called or whether those two girls in a viral video are really pabebe, posers, or just downright scary.
So, what has happened since my last entry? I moved to two other jobs, David Bisbal (the subject of my last entry) has had another dud studio album, and I'm now back to what I love doing most - writing. Teaching English to Koreans was fine, but not something I would want to do for the rest of my life. I have met great people, reunited with old ones, and still trying to get the most out of life by doing a lot of sedentary activities like watching foreign film, television series marathons, and reading more.
Speaking of reading, I am resolved to read more, or at least spend as much time reading as watching movies or television shows. I have become more convinced that reading more does improve my writing. I remember this local author claiming that he's not much of a reader, which I thought explains the quality of his work.
Anyway, on with the show.
Showing posts with label personal musings. Show all posts
Showing posts with label personal musings. Show all posts
(I Feel Like Such a) WHORE!
(That was so liberating!)
When I got into blogging like eight years ago, the thing to do to generate traffic in your blog was to blog hop. That'd mean go to Blogger or Typepad, look who just got something published, click on the link, read through the blog, decide whether you liked the blog or not, leave a message on the blog and hope and pray that the owner of the blog you visited will return the favor.
Well, apparently, times have changed. My old blog which should have contained so many entries already got into a lost-in-translation accident in a web cafe with only a Korean operating system. I accidentally deleted the whole thing. Fast forward to this current blog, which is only a few years old and is rarely updated. I used to have really good blogs in my blog roll, as in blogs that you'd really spend a lot of time reading and lose track of time eventually. So, I am currently re-building my blog roll and my blogging mojo (years in the making).
Facebook has this blog community and I joined it because I want to lurk around good reads and hopefully get the people who write these blogs I frequent come visit my blog too (long shot, but hey). The latter thought is really not as important as the former one, knowing that the visitor to my blog may be bored because of the lack of updates. So I joined Networked Blogs with that mindset. after going through the registration and all, I discovered that there is a discussion board filled with people who start topic threads about their blogs, promoting them and promising to return the favor of following the blog of someone who has followed them.
I was uneasy with the idea from the start, knowing that the whole arrangement can be tricky in a number of circumstances. For example, what if somebody is following you and is expecting you to return the favor, with the other person having a blog that's entirely an SEO marketing tool? Or a blog full of religious entries? As much as I fully respect the reasons behind having an SEO blog (I am a ghost writer for SEO articles, for goodness sakes) and I feel it is any one's right to use a blog to spread religious platforms, I am not really comfortable with following them.
I follow blogs because I actually enjoy reading them. Through the whole follow-my-blog-and-I'll-follow yours process, I also felt like I was cheating some people who were expecting me to follow their blogs when I didn't really appreciate the content of theirs. Honestly, it doesn't take much to make me want to read your blog, just as long as I don't see misplaced widgets and fonts of different sizes and colors (I'm a bit obsessive-compulsive when reading) and the content doesn't read like it was copied and pasted from something I can read in Ezinearticles. If I had the urge to read an informative article about how to lose weight with the help of a miracle drug or how to monetize a blog, then I would go read e-How or Ezine, thank you. Other than that, there is a 95% chance I'll read (and eventually be compelled to follow) your blog. The chances of that reaching a 100% will happen if you keep a blog on books, movies, pop culture or current events.
Anyway, going back to that FB blog community, I got to read some blogs that were in those discussion groups and have actually followed some of them. I also felt like I did some subtle (actually, obvious) whoring of my humble blog, just to get into the "I'll follow you if you'll follow me" bandwagon. I have to say I felt a bit icky afterwards. My only consolation(s) is (are) that I did find some blogs that are really fun to read in these discussion threads, and I feel they are really worthy of a wider readership.
So I think I'll go ahead and click on some more of those threads and those blogs, but I won't be doing the vice-versa-following deals anymore. It just doesn't feel right for me. No judgement here; some people have to do what they feel they need to do. As for me, I feel the need to write more.
When I got into blogging like eight years ago, the thing to do to generate traffic in your blog was to blog hop. That'd mean go to Blogger or Typepad, look who just got something published, click on the link, read through the blog, decide whether you liked the blog or not, leave a message on the blog and hope and pray that the owner of the blog you visited will return the favor.
Well, apparently, times have changed. My old blog which should have contained so many entries already got into a lost-in-translation accident in a web cafe with only a Korean operating system. I accidentally deleted the whole thing. Fast forward to this current blog, which is only a few years old and is rarely updated. I used to have really good blogs in my blog roll, as in blogs that you'd really spend a lot of time reading and lose track of time eventually. So, I am currently re-building my blog roll and my blogging mojo (years in the making).
Facebook has this blog community and I joined it because I want to lurk around good reads and hopefully get the people who write these blogs I frequent come visit my blog too (long shot, but hey). The latter thought is really not as important as the former one, knowing that the visitor to my blog may be bored because of the lack of updates. So I joined Networked Blogs with that mindset. after going through the registration and all, I discovered that there is a discussion board filled with people who start topic threads about their blogs, promoting them and promising to return the favor of following the blog of someone who has followed them.
I was uneasy with the idea from the start, knowing that the whole arrangement can be tricky in a number of circumstances. For example, what if somebody is following you and is expecting you to return the favor, with the other person having a blog that's entirely an SEO marketing tool? Or a blog full of religious entries? As much as I fully respect the reasons behind having an SEO blog (I am a ghost writer for SEO articles, for goodness sakes) and I feel it is any one's right to use a blog to spread religious platforms, I am not really comfortable with following them.
I follow blogs because I actually enjoy reading them. Through the whole follow-my-blog-and-I'll-follow yours process, I also felt like I was cheating some people who were expecting me to follow their blogs when I didn't really appreciate the content of theirs. Honestly, it doesn't take much to make me want to read your blog, just as long as I don't see misplaced widgets and fonts of different sizes and colors (I'm a bit obsessive-compulsive when reading) and the content doesn't read like it was copied and pasted from something I can read in Ezinearticles. If I had the urge to read an informative article about how to lose weight with the help of a miracle drug or how to monetize a blog, then I would go read e-How or Ezine, thank you. Other than that, there is a 95% chance I'll read (and eventually be compelled to follow) your blog. The chances of that reaching a 100% will happen if you keep a blog on books, movies, pop culture or current events.
Anyway, going back to that FB blog community, I got to read some blogs that were in those discussion groups and have actually followed some of them. I also felt like I did some subtle (actually, obvious) whoring of my humble blog, just to get into the "I'll follow you if you'll follow me" bandwagon. I have to say I felt a bit icky afterwards. My only consolation(s) is (are) that I did find some blogs that are really fun to read in these discussion threads, and I feel they are really worthy of a wider readership.
So I think I'll go ahead and click on some more of those threads and those blogs, but I won't be doing the vice-versa-following deals anymore. It just doesn't feel right for me. No judgement here; some people have to do what they feel they need to do. As for me, I feel the need to write more.
Epic WTF of the Week 06-11 September: Stuck in a Hole He Can't Get Out Of?
The John Lloyd - Shaina "thing," bow.
I'm sorry, but am I the only one in the Philippines immune to John Lloyd Cruz's (from hereon to be referred as JLC) charms? Sorry, but before I get stones hurled at me, let me rephrase that: I like John Lloyd Cruz as an actor. The looks department... OK, I guess? He looks neat all the time. Not neat as in swell, but neat as in literally neat, as in clean, as in no matter how many hours he spends in that bicycle of his (his chosen sport), he'd still look fresh. What I'm not getting is JLC's ability to turn almost all Filipina women (or at least those I know) into dangerous lionesses ready to pounce at anyone who dares to say even the slightest not-so-nice remark about him. I dare anyone. Go tell your Filipina friend that John Lloyd Cruz is ugly. The easiest you can get away with is a 'how-dare-you-say-that' glare and a hissy fit to last an hour minimum. That I do not get. I really find him rather vanilla.
Yes, whoever you are, if you aren't familiar with Philippine showbiz and wondered if you read what you just read correctly, well, yes, YOU READ IT RIGHT!
Mr. John Lloyd Cruz, who will always be Rovic to me (his breakout TV role), had his penis stuck in Ms. Shaina Magdayao's vaginal cavity, or so the rumor went. While I just couldn't help but laugh uncontrollably at the entire thing (pardon the immaturity), self-proclaimed insiders have added details to the rumor. As with any urban legend, it starts with a doctor, who happens to be the friend of the neighbor of the cousin of the second wife of the aerobics instructor of the insider, verifying that JLC and Shaina snuck in a hospital (Makati Med? St. Luke's? QC or Global City?) with only a blanket covering them, the guy on top of the girl, to have a medical procedure done for them to be separated. More insiders poised to quash any cynical thoughts were quick to point out that what happened is an actual medical condition known as (drum roll please...)
vaginal captivus
And yes, to strengthen their case, insiders point to an episode of Grey's Anatomy which has featured such a case. Apparently Grey's Anatomy is now the paragon of truth in anything medical (sorry, cannot confirm the episode, stopped watching the show after its second season; besides, my medical show is House). Everyone involved has denied what happened, and I hope people will leave it at that.
I'm sorry, but am I the only one in the Philippines immune to John Lloyd Cruz's (from hereon to be referred as JLC) charms? Sorry, but before I get stones hurled at me, let me rephrase that: I like John Lloyd Cruz as an actor. The looks department... OK, I guess? He looks neat all the time. Not neat as in swell, but neat as in literally neat, as in clean, as in no matter how many hours he spends in that bicycle of his (his chosen sport), he'd still look fresh. What I'm not getting is JLC's ability to turn almost all Filipina women (or at least those I know) into dangerous lionesses ready to pounce at anyone who dares to say even the slightest not-so-nice remark about him. I dare anyone. Go tell your Filipina friend that John Lloyd Cruz is ugly. The easiest you can get away with is a 'how-dare-you-say-that' glare and a hissy fit to last an hour minimum. That I do not get. I really find him rather vanilla.
Which leads me to Shaina. Amidst intense speculations months ago, the two finally admitted they are in a boyfriend-girlfriend relationship, leading some people to ask about where Ruffa Gutierrez is in the picture. The 1993 Miss World 2nd Princess and JLC were apparently an item after the latter's split with celebrity stylist Liz Uy and while together in the series 'I Love Betty La Fea'. Public opinion was a bit muted with the JLC - Ruffa affair because a) the two never admitted to any romantic relationship, b) Ruffa Gutierrez is a giant, and c) any disparaging remark against Ruffa will catch the ire of her mom, Anabelle Rama, someone who, according to an informal
With the truth coming out, mouths silenced during the time of the JLC - Ruffa non-relationship went wild, returning to their lioness modes and lambasting the not-so-poor Shaina, with comments ranging from "Lucky beyotch, I hate her!" to "Mamatay ka na, makating babae!" (lit. trans.: "Die already, itchy woman/harlot/whore!") As much as I do not understand the JLC adoration, I also do not understand the Shaina hatred. I mean, I understand how all gays and girls hate her guts for snagging THE JLC (with me going, "Big effing deal!"), but can't they give her a break? I guess she all the Shaina hatred is justified because noone really hated Ciara Sotto, JLC's first boyfriend because at that time JLC hadn't reached the LPIB (laglag-panti-ikot-bra/panty-wetting-bra-twisting) level of matinee idol-ism yet. Liz Uy is too alta (literally high, figuratively high-society, classy, well-bred) for anyone to bother with, and Ruffa, well, I've already mentioned the reasons earlier. It appears that Shaina is the most accessible JLC girlfriend so far, so people think that it's fine to hate her. Therefore, I conclude she needs an image consultant, stat.
Last weekend, the WWW was ablaze with word that after a night of debauchery, John Lloyd and Shaina got it on and because of fatigue and alcoholic intoxication, JLC's member got stuck in Shaina's female parts.
Yes, whoever you are, if you aren't familiar with Philippine showbiz and wondered if you read what you just read correctly, well, yes, YOU READ IT RIGHT!
Mr. John Lloyd Cruz, who will always be Rovic to me (his breakout TV role), had his penis stuck in Ms. Shaina Magdayao's vaginal cavity, or so the rumor went. While I just couldn't help but laugh uncontrollably at the entire thing (pardon the immaturity), self-proclaimed insiders have added details to the rumor. As with any urban legend, it starts with a doctor, who happens to be the friend of the neighbor of the cousin of the second wife of the aerobics instructor of the insider, verifying that JLC and Shaina snuck in a hospital (Makati Med? St. Luke's? QC or Global City?) with only a blanket covering them, the guy on top of the girl, to have a medical procedure done for them to be separated. More insiders poised to quash any cynical thoughts were quick to point out that what happened is an actual medical condition known as (drum roll please...)
vaginal captivus
an occurrence wherein the vaginal opening of a woman closes, perhaps due to fatigue.
And yes, to strengthen their case, insiders point to an episode of Grey's Anatomy which has featured such a case. Apparently Grey's Anatomy is now the paragon of truth in anything medical (sorry, cannot confirm the episode, stopped watching the show after its second season; besides, my medical show is House). Everyone involved has denied what happened, and I hope people will leave it at that.
I mean, really? Penis captivus whatever? WTF. Epic wow.
Ironies and Surprises
How ironic it is for my dad to pass away when my last entry for this blog was about dads!
Speaking of irony, because of my dad's passing, I shall go home again this Saturday, the second time in a month. Which is weird because the last time I went home prior to two weeks ago was in 2007. So, yes, I have spent 2 Christmases and New Years away from home. And now, suddenly I'm going back and forth to Bacolod like some carefree jet setter, which is of course, farthest from the truth (being carefree and a jet setter).
Anyway, my dad's death and the impending event (as early as Monday I thought something was going to happen this week) had me on a purging mood. Aside from over-consuming food rich in fiber (to good effect), I had cleaned my cabinet, bookshelf and cupboard. I have also "streamlined" my web persona which had me deleting my Friendster account. I know, Friendster is so 2007 and everybody's profile there hasn't been updated since last year, so what's the use. One social networking persona down, less chances of identity theft, and what I have left are my Facebook, Twitter and Blogger accounts.
I have a LiveJournal account which I keep so that I could comment on LiveJournal blogs. Next subjects of my cleaning itch were my 4 email accounts. I actually have 5, but I'm letting the 5th account die a natural death, meaning let that account be filled with spam and offers from Chinese DVD pirates and Canadian pharmacies for Viagra. I painstakingly deleted three and four-year old e-mails, most of which were e-mails of the "pass this forward of you'll die" variety. yes, I was a bit gullible to those things at one time in my life. But there some of those e-mails that I didn't get to forward to 20 or so people because some of the instructions on them were rather impossible to do, or simply stupid.
For the past four years, a toilet sink has fallen on my foot, I have been stitched below my chin because I stumbled on an escalator that suddenly stopped, some friends have decided to un-friend me and a motorcycle has hit me while I was crossing a street. But obviously, I'm still alive and I have outlived my dad who doesn't have an e-mail account, and thus wouldn't have been a victim of these e-mail scams. So screw those people who pressured me to email something or I die. Burn in hell together with those Liberian people who asked for my bank account details in exchange for me being a keeper of their ill-gotten wealth. This world is full of weirdos.
Just this morning, while I was purging my e-mail accounts of filth, I chanced upon an email from Blogger notifying me that I had a comment to be moderated in my blog. SURPRISE (ala Chris Daymon)!!! The comment came from an Edward Copeland, whose name I somewhat found familiar. True enough, he has a film blog I follow and apparently, he has given me the honor of a Versatile Blogger Award. Part of me wanted to erase the comment, thinking it was one of those spam comments that lead me to chat with topless blond girls in my area. Duh. Thank God it was not.
So, OK, I'll participate, which demands me to follow these rules (up until this time I was a bit irritated. An award with rules to follow??? Geez. But then...fine.):
• Thank the person who gave you this award
Thank you, Mr. Copeland for this honor. I do try. I am as versatile as anyone can be and I am really trying to be a more active blogger. I try, I really do. I will try my best to be worthy of this honor.
• Share 7 things about yourself
Wow.
1. As mentioned earlier, I just lost my dad. So, that makes me a semi-orphan. My mom is still very much alive and is hinting on a Hongkong vacation to ease her mind off things after the pressures and preps of putting my dad to eternal rest.
2. I love movies. I do not hold myself in high regard as to my taste, but I love foreign films. I love that by watching these movies, I get to live vicariously through the characters in more interesting places and times without leaving the comforts of my chair.
3. Aside from films, I also love watching reality talent shows. I am constanty irritated by how the more talented ones get eliminated early on and how the ones that come out victorious eventually get endeared to the viewing public, eventhough the fact remains that they weren't as talented as their fallen comrades (e.g. Jasmin Trias [over JHud???], Kris Allen [over Allison and Adam???], Virginia Maestro [over Chipper???] and Lee Dewyze [over Mamasox???]).
4. I know of a friend who doesn't eat bananas because a teacher once told her bananas are food for monkeys (Jenny Araojo alert!). What I haven't told her was that I was once traumatized by a teacher too, and that teacher was to alter my diet forever. When I was in kindergarten, a classmate asked our teacher where fishes pee and poop. Dearest teacher answered in the water. Inquisitive classmate retorted, "But that's where they live!" Dearest teacher answered, "YES!" with a matching squirm, obviously realizing how disgusting her answer was. 24 years fast forward, I haven't eaten fish. I eat crab, shrimp, and lobster, but no fish. Damn teacher.
5. I am interested in anything Indian and anything Hispanic. Thus, I know which ecdl video footballer Fernando Torres starred in (Ya Nada Volvera A Ser Como Antes[ecdl is el canto del loco]) and who that woman in the Olay Total Effects ad now showing on Philippine TV is (that's Bollywood star Kajol [wife of Ajay Devgan and cousin of Rani Mukherji] - the gesture in 0:10 is a giveaway).
6. I just realized that I've been living in Manila for 14 years already. That's almost half my life.
7. I love reading too, or rather shopping for books. Last year, I bought 43 books and actually read 4, two of which I actually bought in 2008. The rest, as of presstime, have been collecting dust. That must change.
• Pass the award along to 15 who you have recently discovered and who you think fantastic for whatever reason
Ack.
• Contact the blogs you picked and let them know about the award.
OK, I shall choose 15, but I have to violate the earlier rule. I haven't discovered great blogs as of late. So, I shall bestow the awards to 15 blogs I follow but haven't been given the award. I hope that'd be just fine. But this will be done in the coming days, OK? Getting 15 blogs and informing them would just be a lot of work, considering I still have 5 essays that needed to be finished for work. AND I'M A SEMI-ORPHAN!!!
* * * * *
P.S. I hope no one gets offended with the way I "handle" my dad's death. I am mourning, but I choose not to be heavy or dramatic about it. My father was never one who was sad about things. I'm thinking he would be so weird-ed if he sees me, my mom or my sister hysterical over his passing.
EPAL (Eight Points at Labay-labay*)
* Randomness, in Ilonggo labay-labay (stress on 2nd and 4th syllables) means random and, most of the time, unnecessary stuff. In Bisaya, labay (stress on 1st syllable) means to throw, so I guess, it sort of means the same, right?
(1) I am currently in that smoking area/al fresco area of McDonald's Greenbelt. A few minutes ago, I was minding my own business (tending to my Facebook restaurant and reading Jessica Zafra's blog) when I saw, from my peripheral vision, a European-looking guy (think Peter Sarsgaard) walk over the waist-high glass fence that separated the area from the sidewalk. He approached me, and in ever-so-thinly accented English, asked me for 29 bucks because he needed that much to go home to San Pedro, Laguna. I was dumbstruck for around three seconds before I offered my apologies.
(2) He went inside the store, probably to ask for 29 bucks from someone else. His head was filled with sweat and I was freaked out for a minute before recovering. He was so precise. 29 pesos. He must have really needed it. Lord, sorry. I'm just your regular, jaded Manila resident whose first reaction to any solicitor is a quick N-O.
(3) If he had said that he needed 29 bucks to get to his next pit stop before a team catches up with him in the Amazing Race, I would have reached for my pockets in no time, nanginginig pa.
(4) I just watched An Education days ago, so I really have a HUGE thing for Peter Sarsgaard. It is difficult to say no to Peter Sarsgaard.
(5) If he had asked me for some other thing, it would have taken me a full minute to say no. Nobody says no to Peter Sarsgaard. Who the F cares about Maggie Gylenhaal? Actually, I would have said yes.
No, wait. My morals are intact. Intact ampota.
(6) Now, why is he going home to San effing Pedro in effing Laguna? No offense to Laguna residents, but...?
(7) Wait, are there an abundance of cash-strapped and impossibly hot foreigners in San Pedro, Laguna? Shall we all move to effing San Pedro like, now?
(8) Will somebody tell me how to react to a hot foreigner soliciting cash?
(1) I am currently in that smoking area/al fresco area of McDonald's Greenbelt. A few minutes ago, I was minding my own business (tending to my Facebook restaurant and reading Jessica Zafra's blog) when I saw, from my peripheral vision, a European-looking guy (think Peter Sarsgaard) walk over the waist-high glass fence that separated the area from the sidewalk. He approached me, and in ever-so-thinly accented English, asked me for 29 bucks because he needed that much to go home to San Pedro, Laguna. I was dumbstruck for around three seconds before I offered my apologies.
(2) He went inside the store, probably to ask for 29 bucks from someone else. His head was filled with sweat and I was freaked out for a minute before recovering. He was so precise. 29 pesos. He must have really needed it. Lord, sorry. I'm just your regular, jaded Manila resident whose first reaction to any solicitor is a quick N-O.
(3) If he had said that he needed 29 bucks to get to his next pit stop before a team catches up with him in the Amazing Race, I would have reached for my pockets in no time, nanginginig pa.
(4) I just watched An Education days ago, so I really have a HUGE thing for Peter Sarsgaard. It is difficult to say no to Peter Sarsgaard.
(5) If he had asked me for some other thing, it would have taken me a full minute to say no. Nobody says no to Peter Sarsgaard. Who the F cares about Maggie Gylenhaal? Actually, I would have said yes.
No, wait. My morals are intact. Intact ampota.
(6) Now, why is he going home to San effing Pedro in effing Laguna? No offense to Laguna residents, but...?
(7) Wait, are there an abundance of cash-strapped and impossibly hot foreigners in San Pedro, Laguna? Shall we all move to effing San Pedro like, now?
(8) Will somebody tell me how to react to a hot foreigner soliciting cash?
Oysters:Pearl = Me:Ranting
A pearl is formed when a foreign object is introduced into a mussel or oyster. In turn, the animal coats that foreign object with a substance called nacre. The piling up of nacre makes the pearl.
Now, if human beings could only be like oysters that not only coat irritants, but also create something beautiful. Alas, this is not the case, especially for your truly. Irritating objects are subjects of, well, irritation, and therefore it is my ernest wish that they be eradicated from the face of the earth. No, I'm not an oyster, hell no. So, sue me.
It just so happens that our planet is filled with irritants, and much of them are things I cannot really eradicate, unfortunately. They come in all forms and circumstances, mostly unavoidable - songs that stick in your consciousness like moist booger, overheard conversations you wish you hadn't heard - you get my drift. So, let this blog serve as my vent for things irritating, in the hopes that, despite not having the enviable talent of oysters, I may still hold on to what's left of my sanity.
Case in point:
One afternoon, I was in line to pay for junk I wanted to eat minutes later, and two ladies dressed in university uniforms were engaged in a very animated conversation. It was their turn already but the girl holding her supposed purchase was lost in her thoughts, as she was trying to remember something to contribute to aforementioned conversation. The cashier was thirty seconds close to hurling expletives, with her eyes ready to commit murder, if looks could kill. The conversation became a variation of the popular noontime show staple Pinoy Henyo, and everyone got into the action because it felt like the girl will not hand in the bottled water she wants to buy unless she remembers what it was she really wanted.
Girl Friend: So, inumin siya? (So, it's something to drink?)
Gaga girl: Oo, shiet, ano ba kase yun? Ungggggggh. (Yes, shit, if I could only remember. Scary sound of frustration that one wouldn't expect a lady to produce, with matching feet stomping).
GF: Softfrink?
GG: Hindi. (No.)
GF: Kape?
GG: Hindi.
GF: Juice?
GG: Mmmmmm.....deeeeeeeee. (Neeeeeeee..........oooooowwwwwwwwwwwww. Imagine sound of someone constipated for two days.)
GF: Masarap? Ano color? (Is it delicious? What color?)
GG: Parang yellow na orange. (One of two things: Mountain Dew or urine???)
Cashier is frothing at her mouth and threatening to transform into Emily Rose any second.
GF: Iniinom natin? (Do we drink it?)
GG: Oo naman. (But of course, stupid.)
Counter bagger: Malamig siyang inumin? (Is it a cold drink?)
GG shots CB a sarcastic glance along the lines of "Yah, like that's gonna help" while refusing to honor what I felt was a valid question.
GF: Oo nga, malamig? (Yes, is it cold?)
GG: Duh, syempre. (Duh, of course, with matching rolling of eyes, with undertones of "Why did you listen to lowly counter bagger. You're supposed to be on my side. Some friend, eejot!")
Cashier breathes extra audibly like her lungs were about to combust.
GF: Naku, ano kaya yan? (Oh my, what could that be?)
GG: Basta, maikli lang yung name. (Well, it's got a short name.)
GF: Mga ilang letters? (Around how many letters?)
GG: Sure ako. Sure ako. Two. Two letters. Ayan na!!! Nasa dulo na ng dila ko!!! (I'm sure. I'm sure. Two. Two letters. There it is! It's at the tip of my tongue).
GF: May ganun ba? (Is there such a thing, you moron? We're causing a scene. I don't wanna be identified with you after this.)
Cashier: Coke? (In between gnashed teeth)
GG: Two letters, 'te. Two!!! (Two letters, sister. Two letters. Don't you know how to count? You're the cashier, you're supposed to know how to count.)
Me, who is 95% so over this woman: RC?
GG stares blankly at me, considers my answer for 5 seconds, then says: Hindi e. Hindi siya softdrink. Pero two letters talaga e. (No, it's not. It's not a softdrink. But it really has two letters, with her eyes starting to get misty from the struggle of thinking)
Two guys who looked like construction workers making the building beside the store and our office were behind me at the line. One of them was beginning to mutter "Pasalamat to babae sya..." (She should thank her lucky stars she a girl or else, I would have clobbered her to a pulp).
Then, by some stoke of genius, GG turned around and looked at the construction workers behind me. Her eyes widened like she found a pot of gold when she saw what the other construction worker was holding.
GG: AYAN!!! Ayan!! Girl, Ayan o! (There it is!!! There! Girl, there it is, pointing her friend to what the guy was holding)
The guy was holding a plastic bottle of C2 iced tea.
C2. C. Two. C. 2.
GF: Ah!!!!!!!!!!! C2! Hahahahahahaha. (Nervous laughter, meaning: Shet, nakakahiya ka.)
CB: C2 pala e. (Oh, it's C2. If you weren't pretty, I swear you're just plain dumb.)
Cashier: C2? (Medics, I think I'm gonna faint.)
Construction workers: Ah, eto? (Oh, this one? )
Me: ... (ANAKNGPUTAKTE. BOBA. SINCE WHEN NAGING LETTER ANG NUMERONG 2? HA? BWAKANANG(*)^$^&B V*B!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!)
GF: Girl, balik ka dun at kuha ka na ng C2. (Girl, haul your hiney on the double and get that effing drink before someone whoops your ass.)
After the two of them left the counter, I looked at the cashier, the two construction workers and the poor bagger. I swear they, me included, looked like we almost got ran over by a car seconds ago.
Cue REM.
"Don't let yourself go." (looking at the bagger whose mouth was still agape)
"'Cause everybody cries..." (looking at the cashier who has been shaking her head for two minutes now)
"Everybody hurts...." (looking at the two construction workers, whose bottles of C2 iced tea are already dripping precipitate)
"Sometimes." (Feeling like I just ran a 100 meter dash)
I walked out slowly of the store while devouring my bag of Mr. Chips in record time.
I could just imagine how difficult it is to be an oyster.
Now, if human beings could only be like oysters that not only coat irritants, but also create something beautiful. Alas, this is not the case, especially for your truly. Irritating objects are subjects of, well, irritation, and therefore it is my ernest wish that they be eradicated from the face of the earth. No, I'm not an oyster, hell no. So, sue me.
It just so happens that our planet is filled with irritants, and much of them are things I cannot really eradicate, unfortunately. They come in all forms and circumstances, mostly unavoidable - songs that stick in your consciousness like moist booger, overheard conversations you wish you hadn't heard - you get my drift. So, let this blog serve as my vent for things irritating, in the hopes that, despite not having the enviable talent of oysters, I may still hold on to what's left of my sanity.
Case in point:
One afternoon, I was in line to pay for junk I wanted to eat minutes later, and two ladies dressed in university uniforms were engaged in a very animated conversation. It was their turn already but the girl holding her supposed purchase was lost in her thoughts, as she was trying to remember something to contribute to aforementioned conversation. The cashier was thirty seconds close to hurling expletives, with her eyes ready to commit murder, if looks could kill. The conversation became a variation of the popular noontime show staple Pinoy Henyo, and everyone got into the action because it felt like the girl will not hand in the bottled water she wants to buy unless she remembers what it was she really wanted.
Girl Friend: So, inumin siya? (So, it's something to drink?)
Gaga girl: Oo, shiet, ano ba kase yun? Ungggggggh. (Yes, shit, if I could only remember. Scary sound of frustration that one wouldn't expect a lady to produce, with matching feet stomping).
GF: Softfrink?
GG: Hindi. (No.)
GF: Kape?
GG: Hindi.
GF: Juice?
GG: Mmmmmm.....deeeeeeeee. (Neeeeeeee..........oooooowwwwwwwwwwwww. Imagine sound of someone constipated for two days.)
GF: Masarap? Ano color? (Is it delicious? What color?)
GG: Parang yellow na orange. (One of two things: Mountain Dew or urine???)
Cashier is frothing at her mouth and threatening to transform into Emily Rose any second.
GF: Iniinom natin? (Do we drink it?)
GG: Oo naman. (But of course, stupid.)
Counter bagger: Malamig siyang inumin? (Is it a cold drink?)
GG shots CB a sarcastic glance along the lines of "Yah, like that's gonna help" while refusing to honor what I felt was a valid question.
GF: Oo nga, malamig? (Yes, is it cold?)
GG: Duh, syempre. (Duh, of course, with matching rolling of eyes, with undertones of "Why did you listen to lowly counter bagger. You're supposed to be on my side. Some friend, eejot!")
Cashier breathes extra audibly like her lungs were about to combust.
GF: Naku, ano kaya yan? (Oh my, what could that be?)
GG: Basta, maikli lang yung name. (Well, it's got a short name.)
GF: Mga ilang letters? (Around how many letters?)
GG: Sure ako. Sure ako. Two. Two letters. Ayan na!!! Nasa dulo na ng dila ko!!! (I'm sure. I'm sure. Two. Two letters. There it is! It's at the tip of my tongue).
GF: May ganun ba? (Is there such a thing, you moron? We're causing a scene. I don't wanna be identified with you after this.)
Cashier: Coke? (In between gnashed teeth)
GG: Two letters, 'te. Two!!! (Two letters, sister. Two letters. Don't you know how to count? You're the cashier, you're supposed to know how to count.)
Me, who is 95% so over this woman: RC?
GG stares blankly at me, considers my answer for 5 seconds, then says: Hindi e. Hindi siya softdrink. Pero two letters talaga e. (No, it's not. It's not a softdrink. But it really has two letters, with her eyes starting to get misty from the struggle of thinking)
Two guys who looked like construction workers making the building beside the store and our office were behind me at the line. One of them was beginning to mutter "Pasalamat to babae sya..." (She should thank her lucky stars she a girl or else, I would have clobbered her to a pulp).
Then, by some stoke of genius, GG turned around and looked at the construction workers behind me. Her eyes widened like she found a pot of gold when she saw what the other construction worker was holding.
GG: AYAN!!! Ayan!! Girl, Ayan o! (There it is!!! There! Girl, there it is, pointing her friend to what the guy was holding)
The guy was holding a plastic bottle of C2 iced tea.
C2. C. Two. C. 2.
GF: Ah!!!!!!!!!!! C2! Hahahahahahaha. (Nervous laughter, meaning: Shet, nakakahiya ka.)
CB: C2 pala e. (Oh, it's C2. If you weren't pretty, I swear you're just plain dumb.)
Cashier: C2? (Medics, I think I'm gonna faint.)
Construction workers: Ah, eto? (Oh, this one? )
Me: ... (ANAKNGPUTAKTE. BOBA. SINCE WHEN NAGING LETTER ANG NUMERONG 2? HA? BWAKANANG(*)^$^&B V*B!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!)
GF: Girl, balik ka dun at kuha ka na ng C2. (Girl, haul your hiney on the double and get that effing drink before someone whoops your ass.)
After the two of them left the counter, I looked at the cashier, the two construction workers and the poor bagger. I swear they, me included, looked like we almost got ran over by a car seconds ago.
Cue REM.
"Don't let yourself go." (looking at the bagger whose mouth was still agape)
"'Cause everybody cries..." (looking at the cashier who has been shaking her head for two minutes now)
"Everybody hurts...." (looking at the two construction workers, whose bottles of C2 iced tea are already dripping precipitate)
"Sometimes." (Feeling like I just ran a 100 meter dash)
I walked out slowly of the store while devouring my bag of Mr. Chips in record time.
I could just imagine how difficult it is to be an oyster.
Hit me like a ton of bricks at 5:00
I have a student that I talk to at 6 in the morning, Korean time (that'd be 5 AM in Maniila) every goddem weekday. It's a cheeseball class - we use a cheesy book and the student is, in my opinion or maybe forced by the circumstances of his book, gives the cheesiest opinions. The student is the usual Korean guy - in his mid-30s, working as a manager of some firm, workaholic (works from 7 - 9), with a child and a wife, stickler to grammar and doesn't understand the part that a huge part of the English language operates on expections to the rules, very obvious East Asian accent. There are days when I wish the ten minutes would speed past, as the cheesiness can get to my nerves so early in the day. I mean, I could only deal with so much pros and cons of being optimistic vs. being pessimistic as my patience would allow. I am guilty of tuning out at times. Me bad teacher.
Earlier, we were talking about another cheeseball topic, expectations. As per the book, I asked the question:
Me: What makes you raise your expectations? Why?
Ben: Teacher, with me, it's who. My 8 month old daughter makes me want to raise my expectations of everything. I want to be the best in my work for her. My expectations of the world are higher because I want her to experience a world that is kind to her.
* Me thinks cheesy alert, cheesy alert. Ring the cheesy alarm!!! *
Ben: I love my daughter so much I want everything to be perfect for her. Even if she has already had 2 surgeries because she has a weak heart. I know she will survive. My expectations become my hopes for her. How about you teacher? Is there anything or anyone that makes you wish that everything is perfect?
SILENCE. Teacher too dumbfounded to answer.
Ben: Teacher?
Me: Ben, sorry, I'll have to get back to you on that.
Two hours later and I have yet to go back to sleep as Ben's question has scared sleep from me.
Can somebody answer Ben's question?
Earlier, we were talking about another cheeseball topic, expectations. As per the book, I asked the question:
Me: What makes you raise your expectations? Why?
Ben: Teacher, with me, it's who. My 8 month old daughter makes me want to raise my expectations of everything. I want to be the best in my work for her. My expectations of the world are higher because I want her to experience a world that is kind to her.
* Me thinks cheesy alert, cheesy alert. Ring the cheesy alarm!!! *
Ben: I love my daughter so much I want everything to be perfect for her. Even if she has already had 2 surgeries because she has a weak heart. I know she will survive. My expectations become my hopes for her. How about you teacher? Is there anything or anyone that makes you wish that everything is perfect?
SILENCE. Teacher too dumbfounded to answer.
Ben: Teacher?
Me: Ben, sorry, I'll have to get back to you on that.
Two hours later and I have yet to go back to sleep as Ben's question has scared sleep from me.
Can somebody answer Ben's question?
Graduation Blues
It's that time of the year again! Thousands of students will graduate from school. Hence, (1) a huge number added to unemployed Filipinos, (2) a mad rush for dorms and accomodations in Quezon City and the U-belt, (3) parties, parties, and more parties, and (4) waves of nostalgia for the likes of me, who are done with all the three stages of graduation typical for Filipino students (grade school, high school, and college: I'm doing my masters but I think it'll be more of a relief rather than an emotional experience once I finish). Thus, the sudden spurts of Friendster and Facebook surveys of school experiences. And because I'm not immune to these surveys, I shall answer.
Grade school:
(1) Do you still remember all your sections since Grade 1?
Oh yes, with matching advisers:
Grade 1 - Hope, Mrs. Yusay
Grade 2 - Lime, Ms. Lacbanes (I transfered to a new school, and from that year I had sections to fill a palate colorful enough to amuse Picasso or Warhol)
Grade 3 - Aqua, Mrs. Alejado
Grade 4 - Ivory, Mrs. Llena (the former Ms. Ortiz)
Grade 5 - Cream, Mrs. Patalagsa
Grade 6 - Tangerine, Mr. Rosales
(2) Were you an honor student?
Oh yes, I had to be. NOT being an honor student was not in my parents' vocabulary. It was like not being on the honor's list was a precursor to the Apocalypse, or the plagues of Egypt. The expected me to have honors every quarter the way they expected the electricity bill to come every month.
(3) What was your favorite subject?
Sibika at Kultura. I was a sucker for memorization. I used to scan the Philippine map once and remember where each province was, their provincial capitals, which region they belong to, and to some point, their population. By the time I was in Grade 4, I was so bored with the Philippines I started memorizing the things my sister (who was already in high school and studying Asian Civ that time) was studying. So yes, Bhutan's capital was, and still is, I believe, Thimphu, and Sikkim is part of India, not a separate country, since 1975. I can still remember some of them, but I have been thoroughly left behind. I even thought that province with the Garden churva on its name was a joke the first time I heatrd it.
(4) What was your least favorite subject?
Spelling. Because I tried my darned effing best and I would still have mistakes. Grrr. I was ambivalent towards Math that time.
(5) Who was your favorite teacher?
Ms. Lacbanes, my 2nd Grade adviser and English teacher. She was like this mommy figure. Very inspiring, the best.
(6) Who was your least favorite teacher?
No comment. Hahahaha. Ummm... when I was old enough to hate any of them, I realized that these were just people doing their jobs and if I don't like them, there's a great chance they'll sense it and they'll hate me too. I refused to waste energy.
(7) Most memorable line from a teacher:
"Kulang na lang kay Mark masking tape. Natam-an ka baba-an!" - Mr. Rosales
I think the way my teachers hammered the "you don't have good manners if you talk in the classroom" stuck with me forever. I don't like talking. AT ALL. My anti-social awkwardness probably stemmed from these encounters. Oh, I just psychoanalyzed myself. Hehehehe.
(8) What was your lowest grade?
I put the C in GMRC. Refer to question 7 answer. I dunno. I guess more than my blabbermouth, I thought the teachers hated my guts. I thought I came accross as someone who tuned out if I wasn't interested. Which I did most of the time. I don't have a very high IQ, but I thought I actually did well in absorbing all the stuff I was "hearing" in the classroom because I never remembered studying at home. after class. My idea of "studying" was doing my homework and getting quizzed by my mom when there's a scheduled test or during exam week. Which means that I had, and still have, great retention skills, depite my refusal to pay that much attention and talking with my seatmates through classes. But with IQ, genius, and most of all diligence, I'm as normal as normal can be, close to mediocre, actually.
(9) What was the highlight of your school year?
Christmas vacation and choral singing contest. Intramurals for the last two years of grade school.
(10) Were you active in extra-curricular activities?
No. Tennis was alien to our school so sports was out of the question.
(11) Did you join any conest?
I didn't have stage fright, but I thought it was icky to perform in front of your school. I lost in a poetry declamation contest in 5th grade. I won the general information contest godeffinggiven school year (long live trivia!!!). I loved writing but I always lost every essay writing conest. I guess I just didn't (still don't have) the discipline.
(12) Any embarassing experiences?
No. I was terrified of my mom storming into school and whacking my butt in front of the student body, so I had to maintain a perfect facade.
(13) Were you ever sent to the principals' office?
N-O.
(14) What was your most vivid memory of grade school?
Owing to my very good memory, I have tons of memories:
- Getting my C grade and being told that my talkativeness could get me a low gtrade.
- Everyone ganging up on me because I co-wrote (read: CO-WROTE) this super-mean song about a girl me and my two friends didn't like. Suddenly, my two co-composers deserted me and I was supposed to be the evil Mozart of Grade 4. And I had to stand up for an hour for my ugly behavior. Yes, I was soooooo sorry for it, but there were others involved. My co-writers eventually became the high school valedictorian and the other didn't finish her college degree and from what I heard, is now a single mom. (WOW!!! THE WHO???)
- Winning a province-wide quiz show sponsored by the Rotary Club. I thought, that was cool, answering a bunch of questions correctly and getting a trophy. And 3,000 bucks, I think. I remember getting exempted for a good number of exams because my teachers, who have cursed my blabber mouth, suddenly became superproud of me and eating a lot of McDonald's caramel sundaes, the height of luxury in Bacolod City that time.
- Going to confession with Msrg. Liu and celebrating mass once a month.
- Experiencing inflation with siao kai, from 25 - 50 centavos in one year!!!
- Eating in Celine's.
- Going to Nita's in case there was something out of the ordinary needed (protractor, art paper, bond paper).
(13) What was your graduation like?
Grade school graduation was uneventful.
(14) What was your grade school sountrack?
Soundtrack? If I remember correctly, The Bodyguard soundtrack was so popular when I was in Grade 6. NKOTB! Jeremy Jordan! Debbie effing Gibson! Tiffany! Michael Jackson! Gloria Estefan! JOSE MARI CHAN AND EFFING BEAUTIFUL GIRL AND CHRISTMAS IN OUR EFFING HEARTS!
(15) What were the most famous TV shows when you were in grade school?
Cable TV was still not that popular, so people were so into Maalaala Mo Kaya, Palibhasa Lalake, Maricel Drama Special, That's Entertainment, Doogie Howser MD, Blossom, Punky Brewster, Seaquest (I remember Darlene Sy with a mad crush on Johnathan Brandis), Karate Kats, Duck Tales, A-Team, Airwolf, McGAYVER!!! And of course, last but not the least, Beverly Hills 90210!!! You're so lost on Monday mornin if you didn't watch 90210 (it was shown on Friday night).
(16) Any grade school trends?
- Pencil case with the "piano"
- Pencil case with the buttons that you push to let out the ruler, magnifying glass, etc. (WHOTHEFECK NEEDED THE EFFING MAGNIFYING GLASS!!!)
- Pencil case with the "air freshener" aka pong-it/kulangot (those small smelly things)
- "Lata" pencil case
- Laffy taffy, Bubble Tape, and that chewing gum with the container that looks like a locker (that teachers asked for to convert as their chalk holders)
- Ball pens with smelly ink (Happy friends was the brand, I think, I had one and threw it, it gave me a headache)
- Bensia ballpens and may bala na pencil
- Automatic pencils with lead
- Smelly fruit erasers (I had a grape one which Martin Velez took a bite of. He was absent the next day.)
- Foot long ball pens (that you cannot put in your ultra-cool pencil case)
- BACKYARD! TAPUNGULAY! (Hwa Ming exclusive)
- Cleaners (I was always Thursday, alphabetical order, which is a good thing, Friday always gets to apply floor wax)
- Padako-dako contribution sa Mission (the Grade 5 triumvirate of class advisers: Mrs. Bosime, Mrs. Patalagsa, and Ms.Baroa were super keen on winning every damed year)
- Pop Swatch
- TRAPPER KEEPER (my mom put her foot down and did not let me have this, the 1 and only 1 trapper keeper fresh from my USA aunt was used by my sister)
- Merit pad paper and notebooks
- Those big Tiger lunchboxes + Coleman water jug
- Chinese jackstone, chinese garter, jumping rope (teddy bear, teddy bear...)
- Lagsanay (and its variation lagsanay-pungkuanay), tubiganay,tingayuhanay, and the classic UNDERS KINGDOM (the cause of lost buttons and torn sleeves among Hwa Ming grade school students, much to the woe of grade school teachers)
- AUTOGRAPH BOOKS!!! (Who was your first love: GOD, Who was your first kiss: PARENTS, What is love? Like a rosary, full of mystery.)
- AUTOGRAPH DEDICATIONS!!! (TCCIC, Thank you for giving me space to write in your beautiful autograph, Stay cool, and PICTURE TO FOLLOW!!!)
- GAME AND WATCH (I had the Popeye running around saving jumping fishes with a fishbowl G&W.)
- Speech plays for Grade 5 ((Hwa Ming exclusive: Cops and Robbers, Police Academy)
- Everyone bringing his or her own volleyball and basketball in the classroom
- Memorizing Shylock's Revenge, Mother and Child, and The Bumblebee (for Grade 4 Speech class, Hwa Ming exclusive)
- Archie comics
- CHOOSE YOUR OWN ADVENTURE (padamuay)
Breaktime Laughs
As someone who evaluates English classes, I sometimes come across instances between students and teachers that end up being funny, mostly unintentionally. I do not pass judgement that harshly (I don't think of them as stupid or incompetent just because they slip into wrong grammar or mispronounce some words), and no way do I want to make fun of my teachers. In fact, I salute them for their efforts in getting their jobs done to the best of their abilities. Talking to 25 to 35 different people, with different personalities, backgrounds, ages, language competencies and different moods is no easy job, AT ALL. I have been there, done that before (the exact day before I signed my papers I had 39 (THIRTY EFFING NINE) students in my schedule - despedida???), so I should know better than to mock these people.
But hey, some slips are just plain funny and they're there to be noticed and brought to the teacher's attention for their improvement. If they're funny, then I'm no Grinch to turn poker-faced. Besides, it's good stress relief as well. Lastly, I'm not in any way perfect, but then this is my blog and I won't wash my dirty laundry filled with grammatical slips and mispronounced words in public.
My eight favorites transcribed (grammatical errors were transcribed as is, so if you think a sentence sounds wrong, it was said that way, don't go hating my typing skills, capish?):
(1) Teacher: Why do you like tiger?
Student: Yes.
Teacher: Do you know any tiger who's nice?
Student: Yes.
* By this time, I was like, "Hey teacher take a hint. The student's not understanding half of what you're saying. But then comes...*
Teacher: I'm a tiger. I'm nice too.
WTF? Did teacher suddenly turn feline on student??? Tarzan, isdatchu???
(2) Teacher: Are there pedestrians in Korea?
Me: Ummm, lemme guess. NO. Korean people have built-in wheels under their feet. Some of the more privileged ones (Heroes, Korean version) may have wings.
(3) Teacher: What do you want to be when you grow up?
Student: I want to be a doctor.
Teacher: Wow! Being a doctor is hard. So, be better be good in your studies, OK? So that you'll be a better doctor. Better days are here if you'll be a better student.
* Me: Di siya mahilig sa better.*
(4) Teacher: What did you do today?
Student: My school is on winter vacation.
* Methinks students have vacations, not schools.*
Teacher: No, no, no. Your school is not on vacation...
* Me: Yes, go on...*
Teacher: Your School is IN vacation.
* Me: Taena. Ginto na naging LBM pa.*
(5) Teacher: Our word for the day is "like". Use "like" in a sentence.
Student: SILENCE.
Teacher: Do you like you best friend?
Student: SILENCE.
Teacher: Is your best friend kind?
Student: SILENCE.
Teacher: Is your best friend funny?
Student: SILENCE.
Teacher: Is your best friend smart? Is he good? Is he understanding?
Student: ....Yes?...
Teacher: OK, say your sentence. "My best friend is understanding."
*Me: Di ba... Inutusang bumili ng tinapay sa tindahan sa kanto, pumuntang Megamall, at bumalik na may dalang harina.*
(6) Teacher: Any questions?
Student: Teachuh, what is a hose?
Teacher: Hose? Uhmmmmmmm...you know when there is fire...and fireman goes to the rescue...and takes out a long hose....and the water comes out........ WHOSSSSSSSSSSSH....WHOOOOOOOSH..... That's the hose.
Student: SILENCE.
* Me: SILENCE. LONG SILENCE. Yosi break, please.*
(7) Teacher: So you had general cleaning this weekend?
Student: Yes, we had...
Teacher: Oh, that's great! It's good to general clean. Everything is new, right? The only thing that are not new are the people. Hahaha. You really have to take away the old things and start for the new beginning. So, you're really looking forward for a brand new day. That's nice. It's a brand new things to come this year.
* Me: ................................FLOWERS. (YJ and Randy inside joke).*
(8) Teacher: So, you're really proud to be Korean huh?
Advanced student: Yeah, I remember in 2002 World Cup people were on the streets cherring, everyone was so united. I watched the soccer game in a large screen by the Han River. We beat Spain's sorry ass.
Teacher: *IGTING ANG TENGA* Oh... so what happened in 2006?
Student: Well....Korea...
Teacher: Got eliminated. And who's the #1 ranked tennis player?
Student: Uh...Nadal?
Teacher: Yep, he's from Spain. And who are the current European soccer champions?
Student: Um...Spain?
Teacher: Yep. And who are the current Davis Cup champions?
Student: I...
Teacher: Spain beat Argentina. Didn't Korea get eliminated in the...oh, FIRST ROUND?
Student: Oh...
Teacher: Uhuh.
Student: Ummm...teacher...are you Spanish?
Teacher: Ummm...no...I....I was just trying to play devil's advocate...hehehehe. So I guess, Korea is a great sporting country, huh?
Taena Macmac, wag mashadong pahalata!!! Affected much?
But hey, some slips are just plain funny and they're there to be noticed and brought to the teacher's attention for their improvement. If they're funny, then I'm no Grinch to turn poker-faced. Besides, it's good stress relief as well. Lastly, I'm not in any way perfect, but then this is my blog and I won't wash my dirty laundry filled with grammatical slips and mispronounced words in public.
My eight favorites transcribed (grammatical errors were transcribed as is, so if you think a sentence sounds wrong, it was said that way, don't go hating my typing skills, capish?):
(1) Teacher: Why do you like tiger?
Student: Yes.
Teacher: Do you know any tiger who's nice?
Student: Yes.
* By this time, I was like, "Hey teacher take a hint. The student's not understanding half of what you're saying. But then comes...*
Teacher: I'm a tiger. I'm nice too.
WTF? Did teacher suddenly turn feline on student??? Tarzan, isdatchu???
(2) Teacher: Are there pedestrians in Korea?
Me: Ummm, lemme guess. NO. Korean people have built-in wheels under their feet. Some of the more privileged ones (Heroes, Korean version) may have wings.
(3) Teacher: What do you want to be when you grow up?
Student: I want to be a doctor.
Teacher: Wow! Being a doctor is hard. So, be better be good in your studies, OK? So that you'll be a better doctor. Better days are here if you'll be a better student.
* Me: Di siya mahilig sa better.*
(4) Teacher: What did you do today?
Student: My school is on winter vacation.
* Methinks students have vacations, not schools.*
Teacher: No, no, no. Your school is not on vacation...
* Me: Yes, go on...*
Teacher: Your School is IN vacation.
* Me: Taena. Ginto na naging LBM pa.*
(5) Teacher: Our word for the day is "like". Use "like" in a sentence.
Student: SILENCE.
Teacher: Do you like you best friend?
Student: SILENCE.
Teacher: Is your best friend kind?
Student: SILENCE.
Teacher: Is your best friend funny?
Student: SILENCE.
Teacher: Is your best friend smart? Is he good? Is he understanding?
Student: ....Yes?...
Teacher: OK, say your sentence. "My best friend is understanding."
*Me: Di ba... Inutusang bumili ng tinapay sa tindahan sa kanto, pumuntang Megamall, at bumalik na may dalang harina.*
(6) Teacher: Any questions?
Student: Teachuh, what is a hose?
Teacher: Hose? Uhmmmmmmm...you know when there is fire...and fireman goes to the rescue...and takes out a long hose....and the water comes out........ WHOSSSSSSSSSSSH....WHOOOOOOOSH..... That's the hose.
Student: SILENCE.
* Me: SILENCE. LONG SILENCE. Yosi break, please.*
(7) Teacher: So you had general cleaning this weekend?
Student: Yes, we had...
Teacher: Oh, that's great! It's good to general clean. Everything is new, right? The only thing that are not new are the people. Hahaha. You really have to take away the old things and start for the new beginning. So, you're really looking forward for a brand new day. That's nice. It's a brand new things to come this year.
* Me: ................................FLOWERS. (YJ and Randy inside joke).*
(8) Teacher: So, you're really proud to be Korean huh?
Advanced student: Yeah, I remember in 2002 World Cup people were on the streets cherring, everyone was so united. I watched the soccer game in a large screen by the Han River. We beat Spain's sorry ass.
Teacher: *IGTING ANG TENGA* Oh... so what happened in 2006?
Student: Well....Korea...
Teacher: Got eliminated. And who's the #1 ranked tennis player?
Student: Uh...Nadal?
Teacher: Yep, he's from Spain. And who are the current European soccer champions?
Student: Um...Spain?
Teacher: Yep. And who are the current Davis Cup champions?
Student: I...
Teacher: Spain beat Argentina. Didn't Korea get eliminated in the...oh, FIRST ROUND?
Student: Oh...
Teacher: Uhuh.
Student: Ummm...teacher...are you Spanish?
Teacher: Ummm...no...I....I was just trying to play devil's advocate...hehehehe. So I guess, Korea is a great sporting country, huh?
Taena Macmac, wag mashadong pahalata!!! Affected much?
It's the end of the world as we know it (or at least, as Wall Street would like us to believe)
Friend after looking at a newspaper headline: Ano naman ang kinalaman ng Unchained Meloday sa ekonomiya ng mundo?
Me stares at her blankly.
Friend: Lehman brothers? Kumanta ng Unchained Melody? HELLO????
Me wonders why I'm having this conversation.
Friend, because she has to have the last word: Lehman Brothers lang, di mo pa alam? Daaaah. (rolls eyes)
Me starts praying for more pressing matters, like world peace and lunch.
Me stares at her blankly.
Friend: Lehman brothers? Kumanta ng Unchained Melody? HELLO????
Me wonders why I'm having this conversation.
Friend, because she has to have the last word: Lehman Brothers lang, di mo pa alam? Daaaah. (rolls eyes)
Me starts praying for more pressing matters, like world peace and lunch.
Random musings on this day of our Lord, the 19th of September in the year 2008, a.k.a more than a a week after my 29th birthday (pt. 3)
As a kid, I was never scared of the usual stuff kids were scared of. I like the darkness, it may give me the creeps sometimes but not to a point when I get pee-in-the-pants scared. Nor was I scared if monsters in the closet or under the bed, insects, reptiles, or any mythological, make-believe, or unidentified creature of folklore. Blood, death, or anything related to the macabre were, at a time, more fascinating and intriguing than frightening. School bullies bored me, and I think I also bored them eventually.
But that didn't stop me from being scared of Mr. Clean.
I couldn't remember, for the life of me, how I started getting frightened of him. Yes, I WAS scared of Mr. Clean, as in the hunk of a bald guy wearing an immaculately white muscle tee, with white eyebrows, an earring, and a sinister smile. I do remember, though, a life-size likeness of him, made out of cardboard and whatnot, guarding the entrance/package counter of this grocery store my mom and I frequented, because it was next to the jeepney loading station for City Heights (aka geriatric neighborhood I blogged about earlier), making it most convenient for us to buy last-minute groceries. Mothers have it in their genetic code to sense their children's fears, so my mom tells me to wait outside if she has to buy something in the store. This was 1980s Bacolod - kidnapping was not in in anyone's vocabulary, just starvation and the threat of looking like a Batang Negros (refer to earlier thread). If I wanted to come inside the store to drive my mom crazy and beg her to buy me chocolate or some nutrient-deficient snack with a free toy, I would drag her as hard as I can and run like it's nobody's business while avoiding Mr. Clean's steady gaze.
I remember feeling overwhelmingly relieved when, sometime in 1985 ( I was about to turn 6), we passed by the store and Mr. Clean was missing. I finally got to see what the package counter attendant looks like, with my mom assuring me that he has been in charge since 1983. I remember getting a puzzled look from him, as he may have probably thought that I was scared of him. For the first time in the history of my family shopping on that store, I was free of anxiety, far from getting a juvenile heart attack.
(to be continued)
But that didn't stop me from being scared of Mr. Clean.
I couldn't remember, for the life of me, how I started getting frightened of him. Yes, I WAS scared of Mr. Clean, as in the hunk of a bald guy wearing an immaculately white muscle tee, with white eyebrows, an earring, and a sinister smile. I do remember, though, a life-size likeness of him, made out of cardboard and whatnot, guarding the entrance/package counter of this grocery store my mom and I frequented, because it was next to the jeepney loading station for City Heights (aka geriatric neighborhood I blogged about earlier), making it most convenient for us to buy last-minute groceries. Mothers have it in their genetic code to sense their children's fears, so my mom tells me to wait outside if she has to buy something in the store. This was 1980s Bacolod - kidnapping was not in in anyone's vocabulary, just starvation and the threat of looking like a Batang Negros (refer to earlier thread). If I wanted to come inside the store to drive my mom crazy and beg her to buy me chocolate or some nutrient-deficient snack with a free toy, I would drag her as hard as I can and run like it's nobody's business while avoiding Mr. Clean's steady gaze.
I remember feeling overwhelmingly relieved when, sometime in 1985 ( I was about to turn 6), we passed by the store and Mr. Clean was missing. I finally got to see what the package counter attendant looks like, with my mom assuring me that he has been in charge since 1983. I remember getting a puzzled look from him, as he may have probably thought that I was scared of him. For the first time in the history of my family shopping on that store, I was free of anxiety, far from getting a juvenile heart attack.
(to be continued)
Random musings on this day of our Lord, the 16th of September in the year 2008, a.k.a a week after my 29th birthday (pt. 2)
feeling: long weekend hangover (I celebrated Cheusok, suckers)!!! But I'm good, I'm feeling light and not overwhelmed by the delayed start of my work week song: Abriendo caminos, Diego Torres y Juan Luis Guerra (to supplement my easy, breezy mood)
Come to think of it, when I was in kindergarten, I was more proficient in Chinese, both in Mandarin and Fookien than in Tagalog. I learned Chinese the whole afternoon, complete with Bible verses to memorize (I was studying in a Chinese Baptist school, o ha???), the family tree (paternal uncles and maternal uncles are called differently), and the multiplication table come the 2nd year of kindergarten (up until table of 3). My Tagalog was honed by ear, thanks to Pong Pagong, Kiko Matsing, Ate Sienna, Kuya Bodgie in Batitbot, and later by Kuya Germs and his battalion of That's Entertainment starlets. Of course, I had to learn Filipino (at the time when the school subject was stilled spelled with a P; I've forgotten when DECS [so '80s, aren't they called DepEd now?] ) in grade school, which coincided with my transfer to a school that didn't really stress on Chinese education (think Xavier). Thus, my Chinese took a nosedive. To think I was the 1st student with zero Chinese ancestry to finish on top of the class in Chinese. So, now, in a 100% scale, I can only understand 30% max, with contextual clues, and read, write, and speak... 5%. Oh, what a waste!
Looking back, I'm grateful though that I was exposed to different cultures at an early age as it cultivated my interest in foreign languages and the like. Maybe I should give that Ateneo Professional Schools brochure a second look.*
* APS (Salcedo Village campus), in partnership with the Confucian Institute, is offering Mandarin lessons in different levels.
Come to think of it, when I was in kindergarten, I was more proficient in Chinese, both in Mandarin and Fookien than in Tagalog. I learned Chinese the whole afternoon, complete with Bible verses to memorize (I was studying in a Chinese Baptist school, o ha???), the family tree (paternal uncles and maternal uncles are called differently), and the multiplication table come the 2nd year of kindergarten (up until table of 3). My Tagalog was honed by ear, thanks to Pong Pagong, Kiko Matsing, Ate Sienna, Kuya Bodgie in Batitbot, and later by Kuya Germs and his battalion of That's Entertainment starlets. Of course, I had to learn Filipino (at the time when the school subject was stilled spelled with a P; I've forgotten when DECS [so '80s, aren't they called DepEd now?] ) in grade school, which coincided with my transfer to a school that didn't really stress on Chinese education (think Xavier). Thus, my Chinese took a nosedive. To think I was the 1st student with zero Chinese ancestry to finish on top of the class in Chinese. So, now, in a 100% scale, I can only understand 30% max, with contextual clues, and read, write, and speak... 5%. Oh, what a waste!
Looking back, I'm grateful though that I was exposed to different cultures at an early age as it cultivated my interest in foreign languages and the like. Maybe I should give that Ateneo Professional Schools brochure a second look.*
* APS (Salcedo Village campus), in partnership with the Confucian Institute, is offering Mandarin lessons in different levels.
Random musings on this day of our Lord, the 8th of September in the year 2008, a.k.a my 29th birthday (part 1 of 29)
I am currently feasting on a slice of melon, a cheese spread sandwich, and a pitcher of orange juice. This brings me back to my kindergarten days, back to when life was still mundanely easy and I could still count the years id my existence with the fingers of one hand. also, I remembered the woe I would cause my mom when I would come home from school with my lunch box still containing an uneaten peanut butter sandwich and a tumbler full of orange juice, untouched. See, I manifested early signs of obsessive-compulsive behavior (read: homosexuality) by refusing to consume anything that is not color-coordinated. Thus, a peanut butter sandwich should go with chocolate milk, a cheese sandwich must be paired with orange juice, and milk, preferably Anchor (Nido and Birch Tree made me wanna puke), was to be drunk at lunch with white rice and whatever viand.
My fixation with colors ended one day when my mom, in a sermon which probably lasted for an hour, but for a 6 year-old kid felt like the whole afternoon, showed me a picture of the infamous batang Negros.
(not the precise picture, but you got my point, I hope)
For '80s kids, the Batang Negros, with ribs poking out and a bloated stomach, was every parent's weapon against children who have picky appetites. Alas, as much as I did not like mixing colors, I didn't want flies and other insects swarming all over me. As THE Mariah Carey once allegedly said, " Whenever I watch TV and see those poor starving kids all over the world, I can't help but cry. I mean I'd love to be skinny like that, but not with all those flies and death and stuff." Thus, my career with colors was cut short. Oh, the possibilities.
My fixation with colors ended one day when my mom, in a sermon which probably lasted for an hour, but for a 6 year-old kid felt like the whole afternoon, showed me a picture of the infamous batang Negros.
(not the precise picture, but you got my point, I hope)
It's (insert adjective here) to be back in your hometown
What's quite cool about working as a teacher online is having holidays when your students want to stay stupid. It gets better when you teach students abroad, because you celebrate holidays of their countries and you get double pay to work during Philippine holidays. I mean, who cares about that EDSA thing when you get to go to the office hassle and traffic free and you get to have an ultra-long weekend from the 6th to the 10th for Seollal, or Lunar New Year? Happiness!
So, I decided to surprise my family, whom I haven't seen as a whole for two years , by going home. Pro: lots and lots of R&R. Con: loads of food, as there is absolutely nothing to do in Bacolod other than stuffing oneself with calories way over RDA limits. With hunger killing countless victims in destitute places, I know it may be audacious to put food as a con. But try visiting Bacolod and you'll get my drift. The only other activity is trying to burn excess calories by walking the long stretches of Gaisano, Robinsons, or the relatively new SM mall, the latter my mother chose as the site for my one-and-only consented TSABS appearance.
TSABS - (pronounced as tee-sabz) to see and be seen appearance. A term coined by my first officements and I to call that almost-perfunctionary public appearance a probinsyana/o who has been away when s/he comes back to her/his province, to function as a walking trophy by his/her parents and be a walking billboard to remind everyone that they are being graced by the presence of someone fresh from wherever. It is always assumed that the TSABS-er has made it big wherever s/he has been, or else s/he wouldn't have the face/nerve/guts to display her/himself in public. Also, it is assumed that the TSABS-er will greet, kiss, smile, or acknowledge the presence of everyone, from long-lost relatives to unrecognizable kindergarten classmates, or stand the chance of getting branded as thinking too highly of her/himself to socialize with small-town nobodies. Thus, the TSABS-er must strike a prefect balance between looking spiffed and chic (or else be plagued with "Yun ba ang galing Manila, ba't parang namulubi?" looks) and being Ms./Mr. Congeniality (or else beauty parlors the next day will abound with stories along the line of "Abaw, ang bata ni ***** nag-abot, daw si sin-o na guid. Nakatapak lang sa Manila wala na guid gapamugno, daw namenusan na guid di sa aton.")
My sister survived her TSABS ordeal years ago when she came back from Manila and decided to work in Bacolod. She's not all ma-chicka and the works, she breezed through her homecoming after the first week by smiling and teenybopper-ing her then 25-year old self around town. I, on the other hand, am awkwardness personfied. I so happen to be every family's TSABS nightmare. People who know me should know that I'm NOT the best in quick friendship-building and superficial relationships unless my dear life depended on them. Heck, I'm awkward with anyone I haven't seen in 3 days, how much more with people I haven't seen since I was in my Trinity Christian School uniform? I spent every college Christmas vacation hibernating in my home; unavoidable family get-togethers are dealt with an hour's guest appearance. High school reunions? I honestly don't have time for them, especially when a rare Maggie Cheung movie is shown on Star Mandarin and I'm thinking I'd be stuck with Studio 23 in Rosby's/Dave's TV when I get back to Cervini. Yes, I have been called anti-social. You, dearest reader, are most probably not. We live in a diverse society. That's what makes the world such an interesting place, cue swelling orchestra music. To make it crystal clear, unless you are Daniel Brühl inviting me on a date, DO NOT bother trying to get me out of my house during my oh-so-rare visits.
Also, unless you're my mom telling me to get my lazy ass out of my bed and get fresh air.
I don't think my mom is aware of the TSABS phenomenon. If she is, I'm sure she is fully well-aware of her son's allergy with it. Thus, when she tells me to see the outdoors, she comes especially equipped with subtle hints of me getting new stuff. I may have adapted to life here in Manila, true, but it actually is all the more reason for me to fully appreciate the language of FREE. As far as I am concerned, the only appropriate responses to free would be "yes," "of course," and "why not". Responses to the opposite would be downright rude. Otherwise, invitations to go to malls in my dear city "just for the heck of it" have been answered by yours truly with reactions ranging from looks of autistic ignorance (Mall? *me stares into space*) to blatant statements of "In Manila, I eat, watch movies, shop, and undergo most of my existence in malls , and you want me to go to a mall here, too?"
Thus, on the 4th day of my surprise visit, with my mom equipped with the language of free, I succumbed. Not proud of it, but alas, my defenses crumbled. It was a Saturday afternoon, so the mall was filled with people. I saw some old classmates, who I thought were looking at the opposite direction. I didn't bother. I broke ruler no. 2 of TSABS. I don't care. As for rule no. 1, I did try to look presentable though. I psyched myself for a possible paparazzi attack; I wouldn't want pictures of me looking ratty splashed across the tabloids. Humor me.
I did see a lot of familiar faces, I didn't put on the Ms. Sunny Sunshine visage. I don't want to come across as too assuming. What if they aren't who I thought they were? Spare me the embarrassment! On with the TSABS! Enter Prodigal Son sans drama! Enter Serena van der Woodsen! Enter the Count of Monte Cristo! Enter me!
I saw somebody though. My first school crush. Oh dear, I actually held my breath! Oh, the tingling sensation. Aforementioned crush was in a different year, so we were never classmates. But it sure made my day to see the person. The sight of crush was a calm oasis amidst the bullying, irritating teachers, more irritating classmates, and most irritating lessons. The Chinese-ness of our school showed every time we had to enter class by forming effing lines, whether it be after morning assembly, after recess, after lunch, after every frigging time. But I didn't mind that much, as it was a chance to see crush. Enter Twilight zone/Mao Zedong propaganda music for some readers who might be creeped out at this point, but for me it was always birds chirping, squirrels coming out of their burrows, and Snow White in coloratura soprano singing "I'm Wishing."
SO. EFFING. HIGH. SCHOOL. *Sigh*
Tugging along crush was with two chubby toddlers. Twins. So cute and cuddly. Looks exactly like crush. Two steps behind was another familiar face. My mom followed where I was looking and told me about crush having a family and being an architect and all.
TAKE ME BACK TO MANILA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
So, I decided to surprise my family, whom I haven't seen as a whole for two years , by going home. Pro: lots and lots of R&R. Con: loads of food, as there is absolutely nothing to do in Bacolod other than stuffing oneself with calories way over RDA limits. With hunger killing countless victims in destitute places, I know it may be audacious to put food as a con. But try visiting Bacolod and you'll get my drift. The only other activity is trying to burn excess calories by walking the long stretches of Gaisano, Robinsons, or the relatively new SM mall, the latter my mother chose as the site for my one-and-only consented TSABS appearance.
TSABS - (pronounced as tee-sabz) to see and be seen appearance. A term coined by my first officements and I to call that almost-perfunctionary public appearance a probinsyana/o who has been away when s/he comes back to her/his province, to function as a walking trophy by his/her parents and be a walking billboard to remind everyone that they are being graced by the presence of someone fresh from wherever. It is always assumed that the TSABS-er has made it big wherever s/he has been, or else s/he wouldn't have the face/nerve/guts to display her/himself in public. Also, it is assumed that the TSABS-er will greet, kiss, smile, or acknowledge the presence of everyone, from long-lost relatives to unrecognizable kindergarten classmates, or stand the chance of getting branded as thinking too highly of her/himself to socialize with small-town nobodies. Thus, the TSABS-er must strike a prefect balance between looking spiffed and chic (or else be plagued with "Yun ba ang galing Manila, ba't parang namulubi?" looks) and being Ms./Mr. Congeniality (or else beauty parlors the next day will abound with stories along the line of "Abaw, ang bata ni ***** nag-abot, daw si sin-o na guid. Nakatapak lang sa Manila wala na guid gapamugno, daw namenusan na guid di sa aton.")
My sister survived her TSABS ordeal years ago when she came back from Manila and decided to work in Bacolod. She's not all ma-chicka and the works, she breezed through her homecoming after the first week by smiling and teenybopper-ing her then 25-year old self around town. I, on the other hand, am awkwardness personfied. I so happen to be every family's TSABS nightmare. People who know me should know that I'm NOT the best in quick friendship-building and superficial relationships unless my dear life depended on them. Heck, I'm awkward with anyone I haven't seen in 3 days, how much more with people I haven't seen since I was in my Trinity Christian School uniform? I spent every college Christmas vacation hibernating in my home; unavoidable family get-togethers are dealt with an hour's guest appearance. High school reunions? I honestly don't have time for them, especially when a rare Maggie Cheung movie is shown on Star Mandarin and I'm thinking I'd be stuck with Studio 23 in Rosby's/Dave's TV when I get back to Cervini. Yes, I have been called anti-social. You, dearest reader, are most probably not. We live in a diverse society. That's what makes the world such an interesting place, cue swelling orchestra music. To make it crystal clear, unless you are Daniel Brühl inviting me on a date, DO NOT bother trying to get me out of my house during my oh-so-rare visits.
Also, unless you're my mom telling me to get my lazy ass out of my bed and get fresh air.
I don't think my mom is aware of the TSABS phenomenon. If she is, I'm sure she is fully well-aware of her son's allergy with it. Thus, when she tells me to see the outdoors, she comes especially equipped with subtle hints of me getting new stuff. I may have adapted to life here in Manila, true, but it actually is all the more reason for me to fully appreciate the language of FREE. As far as I am concerned, the only appropriate responses to free would be "yes," "of course," and "why not". Responses to the opposite would be downright rude. Otherwise, invitations to go to malls in my dear city "just for the heck of it" have been answered by yours truly with reactions ranging from looks of autistic ignorance (Mall? *me stares into space*) to blatant statements of "In Manila, I eat, watch movies, shop, and undergo most of my existence in malls , and you want me to go to a mall here, too?"
Thus, on the 4th day of my surprise visit, with my mom equipped with the language of free, I succumbed. Not proud of it, but alas, my defenses crumbled. It was a Saturday afternoon, so the mall was filled with people. I saw some old classmates, who I thought were looking at the opposite direction. I didn't bother. I broke ruler no. 2 of TSABS. I don't care. As for rule no. 1, I did try to look presentable though. I psyched myself for a possible paparazzi attack; I wouldn't want pictures of me looking ratty splashed across the tabloids. Humor me.
I did see a lot of familiar faces, I didn't put on the Ms. Sunny Sunshine visage. I don't want to come across as too assuming. What if they aren't who I thought they were? Spare me the embarrassment! On with the TSABS! Enter Prodigal Son sans drama! Enter Serena van der Woodsen! Enter the Count of Monte Cristo! Enter me!
I saw somebody though. My first school crush. Oh dear, I actually held my breath! Oh, the tingling sensation. Aforementioned crush was in a different year, so we were never classmates. But it sure made my day to see the person. The sight of crush was a calm oasis amidst the bullying, irritating teachers, more irritating classmates, and most irritating lessons. The Chinese-ness of our school showed every time we had to enter class by forming effing lines, whether it be after morning assembly, after recess, after lunch, after every frigging time. But I didn't mind that much, as it was a chance to see crush. Enter Twilight zone/Mao Zedong propaganda music for some readers who might be creeped out at this point, but for me it was always birds chirping, squirrels coming out of their burrows, and Snow White in coloratura soprano singing "I'm Wishing."
SO. EFFING. HIGH. SCHOOL. *Sigh*
Tugging along crush was with two chubby toddlers. Twins. So cute and cuddly. Looks exactly like crush. Two steps behind was another familiar face. My mom followed where I was looking and told me about crush having a family and being an architect and all.
TAKE ME BACK TO MANILA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
One night, in a quiet neighborhood....
Pasado alas-once at pauwi ako nang mapansin ko na lahat ng tao sa neighborhood ay nasa labas ng kani-kanilang bahay. Bigla akong kinabahan. May sunog? May pinatay? Sinaniban ako ni Gus Abelgas at nakiishmukuy.
Biglang may sumigaw galing sa pinakadulong bahay.
Still unidentified voice: Hoy, Gerry!!!! Lumabas ka dito!!!! Sisirain ko ang pinto!!! Mayaman ako ngayon at puede kong sirain ang pintong to. Tang&(%^$ mo!!! Lumabas ka.
Upon closer inspection, nakilala ko ang sumisigaw as Gerald, kapatid ni Gerry. Kilala ko sila dahil may sari-sari store sila, kung saan ako bumibili ng RC (so probinsya!) Si Gerry ay isang karpentero. Si Gerald ay isang extra. YES, AS IN EXTRA SA MGA TV SHOW. Masyado ata niyang dinidibdib ang mga Star Magic acting workshops. Anyway, I asked neighborhood chikadora (who happens to live next door, that's why I'm ultra behaved; mahirap nang maging pulutan) who has an uncanny resemblance to THE Christy Fermin)
Me: Te, anong nangyayari jan?
Ate Chikadora: Hay nag-aaway yung magkapatid.
Me (thinking to myself, "Duh, obvious ba????"): Bakit ba?
AC: Ah kase, si Gerald, hiniram ang sapatos ni Gerry, binalik, putikan. Eh alam mo naman si Gerry, maingat sa gamit.
Me: Ohhhhhhhhhhh.
Me to myself: Oo nga, halata naman mas malinis itong si Gerry, si Gerald the actor, mas may itsura nga, pero mukhang parating gusgusin naman. But no, does this merit a public scandal? FRIGGING MUDDED SHOES??? But no, eto na ngang si Gerald ang sumira ng sapatos, siya pa ang galit! Meanwhile, AC was reading my expression and offered an explanation.
AC: Kase pinagkalat daw ata ni Gerry na sinira ni Gerald ang sapatos niya kaya di siya makapagbasketball. Hayon di sila lahat nakapagbasketball. Nainis yung mga katropa ni Gerry, di kinausap si Gerald. Kaya si Gerald ngayon tong galit.
My brief interview with AC was interrupted as apparently, Gerry had come out of their residence to confront his drunk brother. RAMBOL NA E2!!!!
Asawa ni AC: Hala, awatin natin!
Dahil maingat din ako at ayokong mabasag bungo ko, sumama lang ako para magka-closeup view ng mga pangyayari. Sumama si AC at si Donna, anak ni AC at ang iba pang mga kapit-bahay mula sa masmalalayong bahay. Tumigil kami mga 50 m. Ang mga cargyng barako + Kuya asawa ni AC, dumiretso para awatin ang magkapatid.
Me: Teka, nasaan na ba si Tita Elsie?
Tita Elsie is the matriarch of the clan.
AC: Ay, kanina pa nag-collapse.
Background: Tita Elsie is a legend when it comes to collapsing and the art of it. Mapa bisita ng Meralco para putulan sila ng kuryente (di nagbayad), ang kehaba-habang pila sa COMELEC registration (hinimatay daw dahil sa init), at ang pag-amin ni Kris Aquino na kinaliwa siya ni James, lahat cause for a fainting spell.
Tita Lucy (one of 'em neighbors, tindera sa palnegke): Hay naku, makatawag na nga ng tanod.
Tita Susan (one of the more promiment neighbors): Tatawag ako ng police.
Pagbaling ko ng atensiyon sa rambol na nagaganap, tagumpay na naawat ng mga lalake ang magkapatid. With matching declare na ang Gerald na "OK na ako, OK na ako." Medyo humupa na ang crowd nang konti nang bigalang umingay. Tumuakbo pala itong si Gerald sa bahay at dinampot si Emily, ang asawa ni Gerry. HOSTAGE E2.
Gerald: Tang*(^% mo Gerry. Sasakalin ko tong asawa mo kung di kita mabugbog!!!!
Balik takbo ang mga lalake para awatin si Gerald, ngunit nakaposisyon na ang mga kamay nito sa leeg ni Emily.
Gerry: Tang*^% mo Gerald. Pakawalan mo si Emily. Mag-usap tayo.
At last, dumating ang tanod with matching wang wang sound effects emanating from their jeep. Papunta na ang mga tanod para panghambalusin ng batuta si Gerald nang umentra amidst the crowd (na naka office attire pa) ang younger sister na si Rina, isang sekretarya sa isang recruitment agency sa Malate.
Rina: STOP IT!!!! Mga kuya (addressing the tanod), umuwi na kayo!!!! THIS IS A FAMILY AFFAIR!!!!
LUMAKI ANG MGA MATA KO!!! HINDI DAHIL SA EKSENA, NGUNIT DAHIL SUDDENLY SPOKENING DOLLAR BIGLA E2NG SI GARGUELAYNE.
Rina again: This is a WAR... A WAR between brothers. We'll fix it inside. Sige na, magsiuwian na kayo!!!! WE DON'T NEED NOSY NEIGHBORS!!!!!!!
I SO WANTED TO DO CARTWHEELS. WAR!!! BETWEEN BROTHERS!!! INDAY, IS THAT YOU?????? I was half expecting her to start saying, "Alms, alms, spare me a piece of bread..."
Nadisperse ang crowd. Pumasok ang mga actors and actresses sa loob. Naiwan sa labas ang sabit na si Emily, still gasping for breath.
Another evening in the neighborhood.
Biglang may sumigaw galing sa pinakadulong bahay.
Still unidentified voice: Hoy, Gerry!!!! Lumabas ka dito!!!! Sisirain ko ang pinto!!! Mayaman ako ngayon at puede kong sirain ang pintong to. Tang&(%^$ mo!!! Lumabas ka.
Upon closer inspection, nakilala ko ang sumisigaw as Gerald, kapatid ni Gerry. Kilala ko sila dahil may sari-sari store sila, kung saan ako bumibili ng RC (so probinsya!) Si Gerry ay isang karpentero. Si Gerald ay isang extra. YES, AS IN EXTRA SA MGA TV SHOW. Masyado ata niyang dinidibdib ang mga Star Magic acting workshops. Anyway, I asked neighborhood chikadora (who happens to live next door, that's why I'm ultra behaved; mahirap nang maging pulutan) who has an uncanny resemblance to THE Christy Fermin)
Me: Te, anong nangyayari jan?
Ate Chikadora: Hay nag-aaway yung magkapatid.
Me (thinking to myself, "Duh, obvious ba????"): Bakit ba?
AC: Ah kase, si Gerald, hiniram ang sapatos ni Gerry, binalik, putikan. Eh alam mo naman si Gerry, maingat sa gamit.
Me: Ohhhhhhhhhhh.
Me to myself: Oo nga, halata naman mas malinis itong si Gerry, si Gerald the actor, mas may itsura nga, pero mukhang parating gusgusin naman. But no, does this merit a public scandal? FRIGGING MUDDED SHOES??? But no, eto na ngang si Gerald ang sumira ng sapatos, siya pa ang galit! Meanwhile, AC was reading my expression and offered an explanation.
AC: Kase pinagkalat daw ata ni Gerry na sinira ni Gerald ang sapatos niya kaya di siya makapagbasketball. Hayon di sila lahat nakapagbasketball. Nainis yung mga katropa ni Gerry, di kinausap si Gerald. Kaya si Gerald ngayon tong galit.
My brief interview with AC was interrupted as apparently, Gerry had come out of their residence to confront his drunk brother. RAMBOL NA E2!!!!
Asawa ni AC: Hala, awatin natin!
Dahil maingat din ako at ayokong mabasag bungo ko, sumama lang ako para magka-closeup view ng mga pangyayari. Sumama si AC at si Donna, anak ni AC at ang iba pang mga kapit-bahay mula sa masmalalayong bahay. Tumigil kami mga 50 m. Ang mga cargyng barako + Kuya asawa ni AC, dumiretso para awatin ang magkapatid.
Me: Teka, nasaan na ba si Tita Elsie?
Tita Elsie is the matriarch of the clan.
AC: Ay, kanina pa nag-collapse.
Background: Tita Elsie is a legend when it comes to collapsing and the art of it. Mapa bisita ng Meralco para putulan sila ng kuryente (di nagbayad), ang kehaba-habang pila sa COMELEC registration (hinimatay daw dahil sa init), at ang pag-amin ni Kris Aquino na kinaliwa siya ni James, lahat cause for a fainting spell.
Tita Lucy (one of 'em neighbors, tindera sa palnegke): Hay naku, makatawag na nga ng tanod.
Tita Susan (one of the more promiment neighbors): Tatawag ako ng police.
Pagbaling ko ng atensiyon sa rambol na nagaganap, tagumpay na naawat ng mga lalake ang magkapatid. With matching declare na ang Gerald na "OK na ako, OK na ako." Medyo humupa na ang crowd nang konti nang bigalang umingay. Tumuakbo pala itong si Gerald sa bahay at dinampot si Emily, ang asawa ni Gerry. HOSTAGE E2.
Gerald: Tang*(^% mo Gerry. Sasakalin ko tong asawa mo kung di kita mabugbog!!!!
Balik takbo ang mga lalake para awatin si Gerald, ngunit nakaposisyon na ang mga kamay nito sa leeg ni Emily.
Gerry: Tang*^% mo Gerald. Pakawalan mo si Emily. Mag-usap tayo.
At last, dumating ang tanod with matching wang wang sound effects emanating from their jeep. Papunta na ang mga tanod para panghambalusin ng batuta si Gerald nang umentra amidst the crowd (na naka office attire pa) ang younger sister na si Rina, isang sekretarya sa isang recruitment agency sa Malate.
Rina: STOP IT!!!! Mga kuya (addressing the tanod), umuwi na kayo!!!! THIS IS A FAMILY AFFAIR!!!!
LUMAKI ANG MGA MATA KO!!! HINDI DAHIL SA EKSENA, NGUNIT DAHIL SUDDENLY SPOKENING DOLLAR BIGLA E2NG SI GARGUELAYNE.
Rina again: This is a WAR... A WAR between brothers. We'll fix it inside. Sige na, magsiuwian na kayo!!!! WE DON'T NEED NOSY NEIGHBORS!!!!!!!
I SO WANTED TO DO CARTWHEELS. WAR!!! BETWEEN BROTHERS!!! INDAY, IS THAT YOU?????? I was half expecting her to start saying, "Alms, alms, spare me a piece of bread..."
Nadisperse ang crowd. Pumasok ang mga actors and actresses sa loob. Naiwan sa labas ang sabit na si Emily, still gasping for breath.
Another evening in the neighborhood.
Word for the day: PEAKS (interchangable with its homonym PEEKS)
Location: McDonald's (branch location withheld)
I was happily munching my quarter pounder with cheese and fries (for only PhP99, promo ends I dunno) with an officemate, discussing the greatness of Manong (the office's guard-lunch provider-sandal/flipflop/RTW/perfume magnate [Burberry Weekend 100 ml for only PhP500]) when I (and later aforementioned officemate) got distracted by the boisterous storytelling of a table neighbor. Yes, he was REALLY loud, considering that tables in McDonald's are arranged comfortably apart from each other (compared to Jollibee) and considering I, owner of the voice that crossed the Guimaras Strait effortlessly, found him loud. Anyway, he tells his companion (and the whole place):
LM (loudmouth): Ewan ko nga ba kung bakit ako umalis dun e.
Companion: (says something in normal volume)
LM: Tapos....ano pa ako dun... PEAKS!!!!! Peeeeeeaks. Tangina, pare, PEAAAAAAAKS. Di ko lang talaga kaya yung oras e.
Companion: (says something in normal volume) &%^%&$* yun????
LM: PEAKS!!!!!!!!! Yung bawat katapusan meron akong nakukuha..........PEEAAAAAAKS...... sayang talaga yun.
Companion: AHHHHHHHHHHH! FEEEEEEEEEEAKS. FEEEKS sweldo mo!!!!!
I thought the fries I just chewed then did cartwheels in my esophagus.
I was happily munching my quarter pounder with cheese and fries (for only PhP99, promo ends I dunno) with an officemate, discussing the greatness of Manong (the office's guard-lunch provider-sandal/flipflop/RTW/perfume magnate [Burberry Weekend 100 ml for only PhP500]) when I (and later aforementioned officemate) got distracted by the boisterous storytelling of a table neighbor. Yes, he was REALLY loud, considering that tables in McDonald's are arranged comfortably apart from each other (compared to Jollibee) and considering I, owner of the voice that crossed the Guimaras Strait effortlessly, found him loud. Anyway, he tells his companion (and the whole place):
LM (loudmouth): Ewan ko nga ba kung bakit ako umalis dun e.
Companion: (says something in normal volume)
LM: Tapos....ano pa ako dun... PEAKS!!!!! Peeeeeeaks. Tangina, pare, PEAAAAAAAKS. Di ko lang talaga kaya yung oras e.
Companion: (says something in normal volume) &%^%&$* yun????
LM: PEAKS!!!!!!!!! Yung bawat katapusan meron akong nakukuha..........PEEAAAAAAKS...... sayang talaga yun.
Companion: AHHHHHHHHHHH! FEEEEEEEEEEAKS. FEEEKS sweldo mo!!!!!
I thought the fries I just chewed then did cartwheels in my esophagus.
Another set of questions
Just because I want to answer the Proust Questionnaire, as popularized in the last page of Vanity Fair.
What do you regard as the lowest depth of misery?
extreme poverty
Where would you like to live?
somewhere free
What is your idea of earthly happiness?
contentment
To what faults do you feel most indulgent?
any, as long as they're my own
Who are your favorite heroes of fiction?
Moraes Zogoiby, Zorro, Donald Duck
Who are your favorite characters in history?
Mohandas Gandhi, Alfred Hitchcock, Che Guevarra
Who are your favorite heroines of history?
Melchora Aquino, Gabriella Silang, Florence Nightingale
Who are your favorite heroines in real life?
my mother
Who are your favorite heroines of fiction?
Hester Payne, Alice (as in the girl in Wonderland), Hua Mu Lan
Your favorite painter?
I'm not an art connoisseur. Van Gogh.
Your favorite musician?
Juanes
The quality you most admire in a man?
perseverance
The quality you most admire in a woman?
resilience
Your favorite virtue?
optimism
Your favorite occupation?
learning about other places and times
Who would you have liked to be?
no one in particular
Your most marked characteristic?
impatience
What do you most value in your friends?
their entertainment value (mwahahahahahaha). seriously, their generosity (of themselves)
What is your principle defect?
my allergic rhinitis
What is your dream of happiness?
absolute contentment
What to your mind would be the greatest of misfortunes?
abject poverty
What would you like to be?
complete (centrum? mwahahahaha)
In what country would you like to live?
a country with overflowing sangria, flamenco, superficial and meaningful friendships, and silence
What is your favorite color?
I don't have a favorite color, I prefer seeing harmony and appropriateness among/in them.
What is your favorite flower?
I'm allergic to them. I like seeing them in cheerful colors, though.
What is your favorite bird?
I don't like birds, especially after watching Hitchcock's film.
Who are your favorite prose writers?
Rohinton Mistry, Salman Rushdie, Gabriel Garcia Marquez
Who are your favoite poets?
I'm not into English or Filipino poetry, and I don't believe in translated poetry. I have yet to read Spanish poets, so I don't have a favorite poet.
Who are your favorite composers?
Juanes, Mercedes Migel Carpio, Fher Olvera, The Beatles
What are your favorite names?
Alejandro, David, Guillermo
Chloe, Isabel, Claire
What is it you most dislike?
looking at suffering
What historical figures do you most despise?
Hitler
What event in military history do you most admire?
I wouldn't exactly classify it as military, but Cinco de Noviembre in Negros was ingenious and amazing.
What reform do you most admire?
land reform
What natural gift would you most like to possess?
a good singing voice
How would you like to die?
in my sleep, without any fanfare
What is your present state of mind?
perplexed, thinking of what to answer to these questions
What is your motto?
Live each day as though it's your first.
What do you regard as the lowest depth of misery?
extreme poverty
Where would you like to live?
somewhere free
What is your idea of earthly happiness?
contentment
To what faults do you feel most indulgent?
any, as long as they're my own
Who are your favorite heroes of fiction?
Moraes Zogoiby, Zorro, Donald Duck
Who are your favorite characters in history?
Mohandas Gandhi, Alfred Hitchcock, Che Guevarra
Who are your favorite heroines of history?
Melchora Aquino, Gabriella Silang, Florence Nightingale
Who are your favorite heroines in real life?
my mother
Who are your favorite heroines of fiction?
Hester Payne, Alice (as in the girl in Wonderland), Hua Mu Lan
Your favorite painter?
I'm not an art connoisseur. Van Gogh.
Your favorite musician?
Juanes
The quality you most admire in a man?
perseverance
The quality you most admire in a woman?
resilience
Your favorite virtue?
optimism
Your favorite occupation?
learning about other places and times
Who would you have liked to be?
no one in particular
Your most marked characteristic?
impatience
What do you most value in your friends?
their entertainment value (mwahahahahahaha). seriously, their generosity (of themselves)
What is your principle defect?
my allergic rhinitis
What is your dream of happiness?
absolute contentment
What to your mind would be the greatest of misfortunes?
abject poverty
What would you like to be?
complete (centrum? mwahahahaha)
In what country would you like to live?
a country with overflowing sangria, flamenco, superficial and meaningful friendships, and silence
What is your favorite color?
I don't have a favorite color, I prefer seeing harmony and appropriateness among/in them.
What is your favorite flower?
I'm allergic to them. I like seeing them in cheerful colors, though.
What is your favorite bird?
I don't like birds, especially after watching Hitchcock's film.
Who are your favorite prose writers?
Rohinton Mistry, Salman Rushdie, Gabriel Garcia Marquez
Who are your favoite poets?
I'm not into English or Filipino poetry, and I don't believe in translated poetry. I have yet to read Spanish poets, so I don't have a favorite poet.
Who are your favorite composers?
Juanes, Mercedes Migel Carpio, Fher Olvera, The Beatles
What are your favorite names?
Alejandro, David, Guillermo
Chloe, Isabel, Claire
What is it you most dislike?
looking at suffering
What historical figures do you most despise?
Hitler
What event in military history do you most admire?
I wouldn't exactly classify it as military, but Cinco de Noviembre in Negros was ingenious and amazing.
What reform do you most admire?
land reform
What natural gift would you most like to possess?
a good singing voice
How would you like to die?
in my sleep, without any fanfare
What is your present state of mind?
perplexed, thinking of what to answer to these questions
What is your motto?
Live each day as though it's your first.
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