On fandom in general

Kinda TL;DR but I have to get this off of my mind.

"And so it goes with God."

I was finally able to finish Life of Pi last week, and I must say that unless another book of this caliber ends up on my shelf (whether part of the loot of the upcoming MIBF or after), this will be my favorite book for the year. I was in tears when it ended.

The title of this blog post came from that part where I lost all composure. I don't want to spoil anything, but that answer made sense of the impossible, of the incomprehensible.

My copy of this book came with a reading group guide, and one of the questions was this: How does it (the last few lines of the story) relate to the claim that this is a story "that will make you believe in God?" My answer to this is quite simple - this book will make you believe in God because it is an impossible story, and God is a God who makes all things possible.

One thing common about the religions dabbled upon in this book is that each of them had its own story, and with these, they brought to the table its own unique traits. Hinduism was about continuity and connectedness. Islam was all about brotherhood and devotion. Christianity was about love and undeserved grace. All of these elements were touched upon in this book, and in my perspective, did not give one preference over the other.

For me, that was the beauty of Life of Pi. It wasn't a "religious" book, for what I saw was a guy who got stranded on a boat with a tiger, a hyena, a zebra, and an orangutan (plus some rats and cockroaches) who knew well enough that he wouldn't survive the ordeal. But instead of giving up, he surrendered his life to a Higher Being, and made use of everything in his surroundings in order to survive. What was put on a pedestal here wasn't the religion, but rather, the relationship that person had with God. And in the end, it was never about religion. It was all about the relationship.

This was a story of faith - that even if it's the size of a mustard seed, we could command the Bengal tigers of our lives into submission. This was a story of waiting on God, knowing that what had been promised will come to pass; a story of expectation - that we could have such wild hope over something that was unseen. This was a story of love - that we could love an unseen, and yet true God, who loves and cares for us more than what we deserve.

I SUPER TO THE DUPER HIGHLY RECOMMEND THIS BOOK. =D Oh, and even better, the movie comes out this year. =D

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I watched The Phantom of The Opera last Saturday. And like with Life of Pi, I CRIED.

It was AWESOME. The only coherent thing I can say about it now is that it's worth every centavo. Just GO AND BUY YOUR TICKET, and don't fret over the price, because it won't disappoint.

My favorite part, as I have already raved on FB, was when "The Phantom of the Opera" was sung. It was EPIC - stage design, vocals, acting, the orchestra (HNNNG THE ORCHESTRA) - everything. When the song ended, I wiped my tears and let go of the railings from which I've been holding on to furiously. 

I wonder though why I didn't cry in the finale. The people whom I've talked to who have watched this told me that that part got to them so bad. Apparently, another part got me. XD

I truly hope this won't be my last Broadway show. When Les Miz comes here, I will DEFINITELY WATCH, being my namesake is there. =D

--- --- ---

Here are some other awesome things that happened since I last posted:

• The Project Wendy photoshoot happened. If you're in the Tom Hiddleston fandom, you'd know what this was for. We had so much fun. Personally, I've never been more proud of the photos I've taken with this shoot. I also finally got to go to Paco Park (being the Rizal fangirl that I am, it would be an absolute TRAVESTY if I didn't set foot here), which was OSAM. 
•  THRANDUIL ELVENKING WAS FINALLY REVEALED. I was a mess last Friday. I was weeping (sincerely!) from all of the emotions. Lee Pace looked so bad-ass and ethereal at the same time. Just. HNNNNNG. He will definitely be something to look forward to in this super extended movie version of The Hobbit. I wonder though, if Thranduil will be on all three movies. Hmmmmm...
• Finals for me will officially end tomorrow with our presentation for E-marketing. I'm preparing myself, in case we have to dance GANGNAM STYLE to get the attention of our panel. I hope that this won't push through (LIKE HECK YES PLEASE SANA NGA)
• I've been writing my book. =D
• I'm on leave from stage ministry.

And...that's pretty much it! 

Rainy days and Mondays (not connected to The Carpenters at all)

"The reason why people sing songs for other people is because they want to have the power to arouse empathy, to break free from the narrow shell of the self and share their pain and joy with others."- Haruki Murakami, The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle

I find that whatever frustration I have with work and life in general, I can always let loose with music. That is why I love my weekends, even if they are so taxing.

Last week was especially hard. Stuff at work didn't go as planned, and along the way I have lost all interest to watch The Dark Knight Rises (unless it's for free). I've had to battle a teeny bit of depression early Friday morning as well (no thanks to U2 sound tripping, but I still love their music to bits). 

But when there's music - especially if you're creating the music yourself, and not just listening to it - there's no other high I'd rather have. Of course, there's the high of watching a good movie, or reading a great book, but a music high is the ultimate high. If I'm involved, I always give 120% of myself, even if it means falling flat on the floor and getting bruised on one side, or getting cramps, or looking like a loon. When there's music, ever inhibition is thrown out the window. It's just me and my audience of One.

--- --- ---

So, everyone remembers Ondoy and Pedring, right? And, if I may go further back, Milenyo? All of these storms had one thing in common - they happened towards the last week of September. 

But tonight, we got a RED warning over the whole of Metro Manila. After tonight's class, I had to brave a flooded Taft Ave just to get home. I walked 50% of the way, then when I realized I couldn't go any farther due to the flood being above the gutter of the island along Taft, a tricycle came. I got a ride from where I was to San Andres corner Quirino Ave for P40, then took a sidecar from where I was dropped off going to Leon Guinto.

My feet got WET. I hate it when that happens. When I got home, I got the Lush shower gel and used it to scrub my feet. LUSH TALAGA ANG GINAMIT KO (your arguments are invalid XD). It was that hardcore. XD

Tonight, the rain comes and goes - which is a good thing. It's not an Ondoy, but I'm sure for a lot of people now, it may be a repeat, and my heart goes out to them. But all of this rain on August makes September even more unsettling. I really hope that the government has prepared. I think we have learned immensely from the past few years, and there are systems that are now in place that make dissemination of information faster than it was in years past (special mention goes to Project NOAH; I've been tinkering it and it's AWESOME). I just hope that people don't take warnings for granted, cause strangely, some still do.

--- --- ---

And, in light of this week's most anticipated vote, I leave you with this quote from my awesome great-grandfather (I wish!) C.S. Lewis from Mere Christianity:

People say, 'The Church ought to give us a lead." That is true if they mean it in the right way, but false if they mean it in the wrong way. (…) But of course, when they ask for a lead from the Church most people mean they want the clergy to put out a political programme. That is silly. The clergy are those particular people within the whole Church who have been specially trained and set aside to

 look after what concerns us as creatures who are going to live for ever: and we are asking them to do a quite different job for which they have not been trained. The job is really on us, on the laymen. The application of Christian principles, say, to trade unionism or education, must come from Christian trade unionists and Christian schoolmasters: just as Christian literature comes from Christian novelists and dramatists - not from the bench of bishops getting together and trying to write plays and novels in their spare time.

No truer words have been spoken. 

On rainy days and Hollow Crown feelings

Ang saya-saya talaga kung umuulan, diba? (I'm not being sarcastic here.) Okay, di bali nang baha sa paligid mo, di bali nang hindi ka makakalabas ng bahay kasi baka hindi ka makabalik (o hindi ka rin makakarating sa pupuntahan mo). Basta ang importante ay nasa bahay ka kung umuulan.  Sapat na ang lahat. 

Alam mo kung bakit? Kasi, panay na bukambibig ng tao kung umuulan ay "sana nasa bahay ako ngayon, sana nakahiga ako sa kama ko, sana meron akong champorado (at tuyo)..." Kaya, kung nasa bahay na kayo at umuulan, i-enjoy niyo na lang! Wala nang drama na "OMG hindi ako makakalabas", lalo na kung nung mga araw na may pasok ay nagsasabi kang "sana nasa bahay ako, ang sarap matulog kasi". Tama na ang drama - mag-enjoy ka na lang!

Katulad ko - dapat pupunta ako sa YC, eh dahil baha hanggang tuhod sa Leon Guinto, at malamang mas malalim sa Singalong, eh di nag-ayos na lang ako ng hard drive at nag-marathon ng Lord of the Rings Extended Version! Ang saya, diba? Nakipag-drinking game pa ako sa sarili ko (sa bawat headshot ni Legolas, sumigaw ng "WOOOO!" sabay inom ng hot choco). 

So yeah...masaya ang weekend ko. Saksakan ng saya. Tuwing umuulan at kapiling...ang sarili mo. XD

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Okay. That's enough Tagalog. Hahahaha! Ang sagwa ko talaga mag-Tagalog! Mea culpa. 

I think time spent to write about The Hollow Crown (and all the feelings that have surfaced from watching the same) is time well spent.  So, I shall!

Before I begin, let me just say that prior to watching this, the only Shakespeare play that I seriously studied was A Midsummer Night's Dream from grade school (one of the very few things I'm thankful for when I studied in St. Scho, now that I look back on it); and quite indirectly, Hamlet (cause The Lion King is Hamlet). I'm not going to go all lit-freak on this (cause I'm not going to try to be someone I'm not...lest I embarrass myself!).

Let me begin by saying this: Richard II = Henry V > Henry IV, Part 2 > Henry IV, Part 1.

Brown, blue, and orange - a morning at CIW

"Magsuot ka ng kahit na ano, wag lang brown, blue, or orange."

"Puwede bang mag-shorts?" I asked.

--- --- ---

Image from DefinitelyFilipino.com

Last Saturday, I went to the Correctional Institute for Women (CIW) in Mandaluyong. I was ordered asked to go there to do ministry to the inmates, along with some other people who are also in music. 

To be honest, I wasn't really expecting much with the visit. At the very least, I wished that it wouldn't be hot, and that it will be uneventful (i.e. no encounters of the weird kind). Prior to this I haven't been inside a prison before, and everything I knew about prison life I've seen in Mission: Impossible movies and the like.

The first thought that came to mind the night before was what I was supposed to wear. Given the heat, I'd rather be wearing shorts, but I was advised not to, along with the very helpful tip of not wearing anything brown, blue, or orange (which was what the inmates wore, color-coded according to the gravity of their offense).

I wore purple. With leggings. 

I asked if I could bring a camera, and I was told I couldn't because the identities of the women inside should be protected. That seemed reasonable enough, but it would have been awesome to have had one though. For one, this post would have been written much easier. 

--- --- ---

Our group was led inside without much fuss. We were advised to leave our cellphones behind at the car, which we've already done before going inside the facility. We were body searched (always a very unpleasant experience for me, even if it's a woman doing it) after our hands were stamped. Then, we were led inside the complex.

Everyone was very courteous. There was a good morning thrown my way every 30 seconds or so for the first ten minutes I was in there. I quietly took in everything - the obvious abundance of orange shirts and dresses with the occasional blue and brown, the long queue of the telephone booths which was their major connection to the outside world and loved ones, the beauty salon (I was tempted to try it out, to be honest - they had nail art!), and the impeccable surroundings that made littering seem like a mortal sin.

We made our way to a few flights of stairs until we reached the covered roof deck which had an amazing view of the Makati, Mandaluyong, and Ortigas skyline. There were also two keyboards in one end, with an overhead projector (is this real life?!). There were also chairs neatly arranged in rows. 

After a while, there was some prayer done, and some talking. Soon there was singing, reading, even laughter, and then everything became solemn again, and then tears.

And then my heart was full.

It was such an eye-opening experience to have been a small part of these women's lives even for a few hours - to have hugged them in spite of every rule I've placed on myself regarding personal space, to have shared in their tears as they prayed for breakthroughs in their cases, for forgiveness, to rejoice in every season of their lives, especially in this season of isolation from the outside world. 

I found myself crying at times during that morning. How often have I complained about things not going my way, or how hard life is ... what are my difficulties compared to these women who have been separated from family and loved ones - some even carry their pictures along with their IDs as a reminder. The food inside, I've heard from their own accounts, was so awful - a can of tuna was shared by three people. And through all this, they still have hope - a wild hope, if you will - that it could only get better.

--- --- ---

It was rather timely that in my various searches made through the Internet, I (re)learned something about "compassion". Compassion, from its Latin origin, actually meant to suffer with another. It's far from an act of kindness, though it is slightly close to empathy - to understand and share in the feelings of another. 

When I was doing ministry there (and believe you me, I am hardly ever prepared for these things, but when push comes to shove, I somehow get a grip of what is expected of me), from the moment my hand touched one's shoulder, I felt compassion at that instant, and I found myself crying with them. I remember learning from somewhere that while you're doing ministry, you're not supposed to close your eyes, and you shouldn't be fazed with the showing of any emotion (i.e. crying) - for very good reasons, I must add. In the case of last Saturday's, however, it was close to a knee-jerk reaction, if you will. To explain it would look rather weird, cause I would do it this way: it's like the other person's emotions penetrate and swirl inside you, and as they swirl they hit you where it hits them at that specific moment in time - chest heaving, eyes tearing, teeth gritting. It can only be compassion, cause I could think of no other explanation. 

Aside from this, I was also reminded that everyone is capable of great good and great evil. These women, who may have done evil in different shapes or forms, are also capable of shedding tears or becoming vulnerable. They're no different from me, or you. 

--- --- ---

So, there you have it! I got into prison, and I got out. 

If the family learns about this, it will be long before I hear the end of it. ("Buti na lang hindi ka napagkamalang preso!" or "Buti na lang nakalabas ka!". Hay, family.)

Running

For the past weeks, I've made a conscious effort to make an appointment with myself to run at least once a week. It's been easy ever since I went on vacation from school, because Mondays are obviously my running days (by default, I go home at 7PM due to color coding in Makati). I wonder how that will change when first term comes, but that's for another blog post.

Anyway, I've been running...or as a classmate has aptly put it, tume-Temple Run ako sa Legaspi Park. Temple Run dahil talagang parang naglalaro ka talaga ng Temple Run kung doon ka tatakbo! Hahahahahaha! Marami kasing pasikot-sikot, maraming obstacles (insects and fellow runners included), and the feel of turning is very reminiscent of   the player's perspective when playing Temple Run. I make it a point that I run at least 3K everytime I'm there (a commitment I've kept to heart, so far =D).

I've noticed a few things when I run there, and I don't know if this applies to running in general, but here they are:

1. Running is a lot like driving, or rather it should be like driving, in the sense that if your pace is slow, you keep right, but if you're keen on passing the others, you take the left side. I learned this because most of the fast ones stayed on the left side. 
2. And in light of #1, there are some runners who aren't exactly aware of this, which, if I may refer to driving again, are like some drivers here who insist on staying on the left lane of the expressway even if their speed is at a measly 60KPH.
3. Running outside is nothing like running on a treadmill or an exerciser. The latter has its benefits - I don't get skin asthma attacks, I can adjust the weight of the pedals for a more challenging run, and I don't necessarily have to keep track of the distance I'm running cause there's a gadget that does it for me. Doing it outside, however, makes you enjoy the scenery, and gives you the real feeling of actually running that makes the experience on a treadmill seem like a lie. XD

But here's what I really miss - playing badminton. Ye gads, this was an almost every other day thing when I was in Laguna. YE GADS. I am so out of shape.

--- --- ---

Behold, next term's schedule. The amo actually had a say with my schedule, which was pretty much how I wanted it to work out. The Monday class is Copywriting and the Tuesday class is E-Marketing. 

My professor for Copywriting goes to the same church as I do (which isn't exactly good news XDDD), and I told him this past Sunday that I already enrolled in his class. Here's what he told me:

Prof: Alam mo ba kung ilan ang nakapasa sa akin last term?
Me: Ilan po?
Prof: 10 out of 23.
Me: HUUUUWAAAAAAAAT?!
Prof: Well, hindi naman sila bumagsak, pero mga 1.5...eh diba nga 2.0 yung minimum grade?
Me: HUUUUWAAAAAAAAT?!?!

So with this, I think I must shelve the possibility of getting a 4.0. There goes my CGPA. /sigh

Anyway, it's not like I want to run for Latin honors or anything - like with undergrad, I'll just give it my best shot, so by the time the grades come in I will have no regrets.

--- --- ---

One of the biggest life lessons I've had the past year or so is this: I'm hardly ever prepared. Over the past year, I've been given so much responsibilities - in work (oh dear Lord I can't even), in church...and I'm hoping I don't get more family-related responsibilities muna cause that will be too much. XD Whenever a new responsibility comes, one of the first thoughts that pops into my head is how prepared am I to take on it; and the personal assessment - most of the time - is that I'm not.

But, another thing I've realized is this: although I'm not prepared when the responsibility is given, the preparedness comes while I persevere towards the goal. It's rather fascinating how things and major events of late have turned out in this fashion. Being the perfectionist that I am, this is the kind of scenario that really frustrates me - of course, it's only natural that I want things to turn out in this way or so help me! 

So right now, if you ask me if I'm ready to lead a band, or to manage an entire business unit, I will most likely tell you that I am hardly ever prepared. And it only gets better from there on in.

You reap what you sow

Reaping time has begun.

KWATRO.

(with hagod)

I wish I could call this a repeat of the First Term Epic Grand Slam but it really isn't...first of all, I only have one subject this term, whereas during the first term, I had a full load for a part-time student. But looking at the bright side, this term also had its own brand of "epic grand slam", in the sense that I had to handle a full load of work and ministry, along with school. 

The real test though happens when I go full load again next term. /sigh I hope I can deal with it.

--- --- ---

Anyway, I have two events coming up, and if perchance you are interested in any of these, please leave a comment with your email address so I can send you more details :-) 

• Friday, April 27: The Happy at Work 2.0 Conference 2012. Happy at Work is an event that seeks to share best practices on employee engagement and happiness in the workplace. Recent studies on positive psychology have shown that it is happiness that fuels success, and not the other way around. We've got really good speakers (award-winning), so it's definitely value for money.
• Saturday, May 5: Project Author. This is BIGGER than the one last December. We actually have Samantha Sotto as one of our speakers (yes, the Samantha Sotto who wrote Before Ever After). Also invited are Grace Chong (her talk is wonderful, believe me), who's an amazing down-to-earth person in spite of her five Palanca awards and 30 books; RJ Ledesma (It Only Hurts When I Pee and three other books), and Larry Gamboa (Think Rich, Pinoy!, and two others). We also invited Flipside Digital Publishing's Honeylein De Peralta, and her talk's a must-listen if you want to get the lowdown on e-books, a publishing route that's established itself as a force to be reckoned with.

Again, if you're interested, please leave a comment with your name and email address so I can send you more details. We've got discounts available, plus these are two events that have wonderful content. You won't be disappointed.

Please also pray for me - these three weeks will be very tough on me (it's kind of like hell week last December). 

--- --- ---

Now reading: A Grief Observed by C.S. Lewis. I knew this had to be included in my reading list after last year's happenings. I think it will be very interesting to see how the famous apologetic dealt with grief, and how he wrestled with God throughout the entire grieving process.

I tried to keep a grief journal. I was dead serious with doing it that I even bought a notebook for it. But, I only got to write a few pages. It was tough writing about my personal grief story. Finding the words to describe how you feel is both a fearful and challenging ordeal. Fearful, because in many ways I wasn't prepared to face my grief, and instead opted to put layer upon layer upon layer of protection (work, getting more work, getting more and more work) over my true feelings at the time, and shedding all of it would be like opening a can of worms. Challenging, because putting words to describe "grief" on a page is like limiting the definition of my personal grief. One word, like "depression", or maybe "longing" puts limits on the overall scheme of things. 

Until today, many pages are left blank. 

By the way, I highly recommend The Case for Christ. Like, mark it as one of your must reads before you turn 30 or before you turn agnostic/atheist...or something. XD

Book buy this month (and probably the only buy, because I have stuff to pay for) is...finally my own Maxwell Leadership Bible. If you've been to the bookstore, you know how much this costs - over P1000 bucks (when I went to the MIBF last year, it was P1200 I think). I got mine - a brand new copy - for a price that screamed YOU'LL SO REGRET NOT BUYING ME SO BUY ME NOW.

There was a time I got second-hand, yet very good condition leather bound Bibles (like BIG ones) for a thousand bucks (got my big NIV and NASB from that source). But this ... I got for much cheaper than that. *grin*

On not being awesome

Here's a good come back to earth quote for today.

While I was walking yesterday, I stole a few glances up at the sky, wondering briefly if there was still smog. The usual white-washed buildings had an undeniable splash of brown and beige - not on it, but over it. The sky wasn't at its bluest. The thick clouds were mostly off-white and grey.

I had a lovely Japanese bento lunch, which ended with coffee jelly. Throughout that time I stared out the tinted window, wondering if it would rain. I learned, when I was in Canlubang, that storms usually drive the pollution out, which is why the sky is usually clear after a storm passes. I silently hoped for rain - not the disastrous kind, of course - but normal, uneventful rain. The kind of rain that would make me wish I was home eating champorado.

The days following the New Year are usually uneventful - kind of boring actually. Mine thus far are hardly that: on New Year's Day, I was told that I was a failure. On Thursday, I have a planning session for church. On Saturday, I have a wedding to sing for. It's the first week of the year, and I'm already learning:

• The people who hurt you the most are the people whom you expect the opposite from
• People think I'm prepared, but the reality is I am hardly ever prepared 
• Being prepared is actually a process
• What people think I can do is far from what I think I can do; nevertheless, these people are expecting me to mold myself into the "me" that they are expecting

When work was done, I decided to walk again. I remembered how comfortable I was being alone, and for a while I regretted coming back to Manila, because the days I spent living alone in the boondocks (I miss that term) were actually the most fulfilling I've had thus far. The smell of freshly-cut grass, the cool, clean air, the random insect that I needed to exterminate - all of these I found wanting at one point.

I walked around the mall, looking at things I wished I had, and noting price markdowns on shoes that I need to revisit over the weekend. My four-year-old rubber shoes had been to Hong Kong, graced Corregidor and four burials, plus most of my leather ones are old hand-me-downs. I made mental notes of stuff that might be useful to me over the course of the year, such as special pens, felt-tip markers, and notebooks, statement tees...

The thick holiday crowd was gone. Not one shoulder brushing on mine. Vast, open mall space. Only the decor remained. Still the season to be jolly.

When I arrived at the train station, the long lines began.

And so it ends

In a few hours, 2011 will be over. Thank goodness.

2011 is a year of unbelievable loss, extreme mood swings, and major career changes. It is a year of people telling me I could handle something even if I am telling them straight up that I CAN'T  (ye gads if I have to deal with this again next year, I will run amok); it is a year of disappointment and hardship.

So, what was great about this year that's about to end? It is a year of breakthroughs - career-wise, education-wise, and everything-else-in-between-wise. I am still working on getting myself back to normal, but I know that 2012 can only be a better year. If 2011 got me down, there's nowhere to go but up.

Now, excuse me while I watch Ironman 2 while waiting for Tangled to come on Star Movies.

Happy na, New Year pa.

Boo

I have not been updating. I am sorry. *facepalm*

This sorry state is about to be remedied.

--- --- ---

I turned 26 two Saturdays ago. Twenty-six is a good age (I think I don't look 26 - I certainly don't act like  26!), but it's a few years shy from 30. Not so good. =/ I don't think I fit into the "thirties' mold right now, or anytime soon...

Anyway, I decided on a Guy Fawkes birthday theme this year. Apparently, not too many people in my circle of friends knew about Gunpowder Plot Day/Guy Fawkes Day/Remember, remember, the 5th of November day. I keep on telling people in the days leading to November 5 that it is a holiday declared in my honor and that they should page homage to me by sending cash gifts or in kind. They simply knew my Guy Fawkes mask as the V mask from V for Vendetta, which is close enough.

I cut up a bunch of Guy Fawkes masks and gave it to the people whom I was with during the day, and I shot photos of people, including myself, wearing the mask. It's kind of like a mature children's party, if you will - wala nga lang party hats. I decided on not having pasta for my birthday dinner. Instead, I had some risotto and fish & chips. *shrug* 

The only major detail I missed was the bonfire. /tsk

--- --- ---

I finished reading this book last month. It took me a whole frigging month to finish it. /le sigh Things haven't exactly been smooth-sailing the past two and a half months, which explains the whole hiatus/drought of posts that this blog had experienced. Kafka is a good writier, although I feel that his writing style isn't engaging enough. 

The Hunger Artist remains to be my favorite Kafka story, as well as this other short story included in this collection, the title of which escapes me at the moment. In the Penal Colony was nice in its own disturbing way. I usually am very partial to those kind of stories but my imaginings of the Bed, the Designer and the Harrow were too detailed. By the time the climax happened, I was cringing.

Now, I'm reading A Wild Sheep Chase by - you guessed it - Haruki Murakami. This is the first of three Murakami books that I bought during the MIBF, and on top of this I've got other readings for school to do...but the great thing about Murakami's books is the way his stories draw you in, that you don't realize that you've read this many pages until you glance at how many pages you have actually read.

After this book, I still have Norwegian Wood and South of the Border, West of the Sun from my MIBF stash to read. After that, I will move on to to this ...

1Q84 BABY!!!!!! ZOMG KEYBOARD SMASH ASFOPHSDIOCVNASDHV9PAWEYFHP0IO!!!!! All my kuripot-related arguments have become invalid. /le sigh

Already I'm getting requests if this book can be borrowed after I'm done reading it. I'm okay with lending, but I'm not really sure when I'll be able to lend it. This is the thickest Murakami I've ever laid eyes upon. It doesn't help too that I've got other Murakami books in the pipeline, plus real life and everything else in between.

On the subject of lending, I think I ought to be making a list of the books I have here so they can be lent out. Hmmmm...that might be a good project. 

--- --- ---

This year, I am officially grandparent-less. Tatay and Nanay (side ni Papa) passed away just over a week apart last month. It's really sad, and for a while the family was in a state of funk. 

On both occasions, I was asked to look for a solo picture of both of them to be displayed during the wake. Looking for a good photo wasn't hard, but when I did that I realized that I have no recent photo of me with my grandparents, or even with one of them beside me.Ako kasi lagi ang tagakuha ng picture. That really depressed me for a while. But, when I shared this to one of my titas, she chastised me: "Hay naku, JC. Kung hindi dahil sa iyo, wala tayong magandang picture na maipapakita ng sa Nanay at sa Tatay, at wala rin kaming  magandang kuha kasama sila kung hindi dahil sa iyo." Though the thought of that was quite relieving, I still wish I had a recent picture with them.

--- --- ---

A few years ago, sinabihan ako ni Tatay na bilhan ko siya ng libro. I always knew that he loved to read - kadalasan nga mas updated pa siya sa showbiz happenings kesa sa akin. Mwahahahahahaha. 

Tinanong ko sa kanya kung anong klaseng libro ang gusto niyang bilhin ko. Very specific ang sagot niya - gusto niya yung mga biography. He wanted to read the life stories of the likes of JFK, Nelson Mandela, etc. I was fully intent on buying him a brand new book (as in hardbound - I remember even looking for a good enough biography, choosing between JFK, Winston Churchill, and I think even Adolf Hitler) but I was convinced by the parental units to try my luck at second-hand bookstores.

That's where I found that book - the unauthorized biography of Frank Sinatra as written by Kitty Kelley. It was the perfect book - laging kinakanta ni Tatay ang My Way (aka second national anthem ng Pilipinas) at New York, New York tuwing magka-karaoke. I bought it without giving a second thought, and gave it to him nung sunod na uwi ko sa Calumpit. He was able to finish the book within days. When I went back, kinuwento na niya sa akin ang buong libro (it fascinated him that Sinatra was part of a mafia of some sort, but admittedly, I don't really care about the mafia, I just like listening to his songs XD). 

The book was damaged because of Pedring, hence the not-so-good condition in the photo above.

--- --- ---

Nung namatay ang Nanay (nauna siya sa Tatay), ramdam mo kaagad na wala na siya. Lagi kung umuuwi kami sa Calumpit, pagka-mano mo pa lang tatanungin ka na kaagad: "Nag-merienda ka na ba?" or "Nasaan si [insert name of kapatid/pinsan/tito/tita na absent on that day]?". Nung umuwi ako for the first time since namatay siya, walang nagtanong sa amin nun. It was downright depressing.

One of the reasons why Ondoy became bearable was because pinahiram niya kami ng maisusuot. Actually, na-enjoy kong suotin ang duster niya. Hahahahaha! Tsaka, we were very well fed for a storm like that. As in walang de lata or instant noodles kind of food - we had real food that day (birthday celebration kasi ni Tatay kaya maraming pagkain, but I think even without the birthday we'd still be decently fed). All of the beds available in the house had mosquito nets over it because of her. Lahat kami nagkaroon ng unan nung matutulog na kami because she prepared our beddings. Sa umaga, meron kaming sinangag at hotdog dahil maaga siyang nagigising. Or, during very special days, may gatas ng kalabaw pa. Haaaaaaaay. 

She was the one who told me to put ice on my skin asthma in order to relieve the itching. I got the idea of putting my arms/legs/face in front of the aircon whenever I have a skin allergy attack from her. Naiisip pa nga niya at times, lalo na kung may ulang na ulam kung may dala pa akong gamot (at naalala niya pati ang pangalan). Hardcore. 

I guess that pretty much explains my hiatus of sorts. There's nothing really "happy" to post about. For a while, everything was in shades of gray, and if something were colored, the hues were faded. I wasn't also in the mood to meet with people - even for birthdays. Heck, I even toned down my own birthday celebration (I didn't have a bonfire XD). It's just...le sigh. 

--- --- ---

I know, November is NaNoWriMo, but I haven't got time for that - add that to the fact that every time I joined NaNo and crossed 50K I have to have MAJOR THERAPY done to my back. Not good. 

Plus, I don't really know how to do 50K with my workload + grad school + everything else in between. It's next to impossible right now. 

Most importantly, I don't have a plot. So yeah.

--- --- ---

I want a new header image. I was doing a vector awhile ago but scrapped the idea. Whatever it is, I know it will come sooner or later.

A date with my DSLR, 101011, Kafka

Today, I finally took Oberon out.

It was a working date though.

--- --- ---

Was at Dusit Thani the whole day (from 7 to 7). I haven't been inside Dusit since...2008 (or 2009), so it was nice to be back there again for work. I haven't gone out with a camera for a long time (I blame it on my lack of social life, cause my life basically revolves around work-school-church /le sigh), which was why I was happy that I thought of bringing Oberon along. 

I posted most of my pictures on FB...they're kind of work-related (most of them). I only posted the non-work ones in Tumblr (I haven't uploaded the food pics yet...I may work on editing tomorrow). 

I like the Dusit ballroom. I'm still partial to the Manila Pen ballroom though, but Dusit (plus its food, HOMG) isn't bad at all.

--- --- ---

My favorite Kafka short story thus far is Before The Law. I find it very profound. One should always challenge the status quo, even if you have to face one gatekeeper after the other. 

For me, each gate is an opportunity. Imagine - how would you feel if you've waited for the gate to be opened for you, only to find out near the end of your life that the gate was made only for you, and that no one else but you could be admitted inside, even if you were told by the same gatekeeper that you cannot go in? It's such a waste. It reminded me how much I don't want to live a life of regret.

--- --- ---

This is so late...it wasn't late in Tumblr though, but I feel that I should have given this thing here 360-degree coverage. XD

HAPPY BIRTHDAY AHN CHIL HYUN! Maygasssh you are thirty-freaking-two and still wooing the hearts of young girls (and boys, LAWL).

Birthday wish: a freaking album that has more than just sad ballads (oh God please) and autotune, because honestly, autotune is a disgrace for his voice, plus I am kind of sick and tired of the sad-maglalaslas-na-lang-ako-ng-siko type of songs that he composes. I know that's kind of his signature style of songwriting, but there's got to be more than just that.

Anyway, if he does release new material, that will make me so frigging happy.

Introspection

I realize that the more I get older, the more I become exclusive or picky with people I interact with.

When I was in high school, I was pretty much a semi-open book; the same with college.I wasn't really one of the popular kids, but I was one of those who would speak their minds without so much of a thought of restraint.

Now it isn't that way. Though I still speak my mind, there is a stronger inclination to hold back. But when I do speak my mind, I speak more pointedly than before. I'd like to think I am more civil though (I've been working on it, believe you me). At present, I prefer being by my lonesome more than the company of some people. Having realized this, I think to myself (jokingly) na baka by the time I'm 30, I will be a loner na. XD

I think my time in Laguna had a lot to do with this, as well as with other stuff that happened recently. =/

--- --- ---

I haven't been taking pictures. I haven't been writing. I haven't been doing anything crea-freaking-tive lately!

Music-wise, however, I'm improving by leaps (and probably) bounds. I made my own lineup for three consecutive YC services (first time doing it, and without any help whatsoever!), and I've been learning how to play the keyboard. If I remember correctly, I'll be assigned in synth next Sunday (HOOOH EMMM GEEE). Of course, I have a long road to follow in order to be "good enough", but it's been a fun road thus far. =D Next week, I'll probably be buying my own keyboard. Yay me. 8)

I have been reading Franz Kafka's The Metamorphosis and his other stories. I kind of liked his Conversations with the Supplicant. The way he writes is rather odd for me. It doesn't flow so smoothly, so much so that you need to focus more when reading. It's not like other books wherein the focus comes to you as you read - for Kafka's stories, it's the other way around. I operate on the first formula, so reading Kafka is quite a challenge.

--- --- ---

People have been posting so much about Ninong Steve Jobs (yeah, we're tight XD) that I decided not to go along with the bandwagon. I decided to post about it now because they hype has mellowed down considerably from the past two days.

When the news broke on Thursday (my time zone) that he died,  my Facebook, Twitter, and - oh my stars, would you believe it  - Tumblr timeline was 60% Steve Jobs and Apple. I love the man and the company, but one can only take so much! Sure, I did a few posts of my own (one on FB, ten or so on Twitter, six on Tumblr), but they weren't like HUHUHUHU PATAY NA SI STEVE JOBS! I AM SO SAAAAAAADDDDDDD KILL ME NAAAAOOO (When I saw the crazy posts, I knew I had to stop adding to the drama because I was certain that somewhere out there, someone like me was also getting irritated.)

It also wasn't helping that I use a Macbook at work, I listen to my iPod during work (and going to and from the office), plus there's an unopened The Innovation Secrets of Steve Jobs on the side of my table. It was a Steve Jobs/Apple bombardment of the highest proportions, and I was feeling very melancholic about it, but at the same time, I couldn't shake off the feeling of being irritated about some OA reactions that I've been reading. (At some point, I read a post on FB which said that when he saw his Mac when he came home, he bawled his eyes out. It took all the self-control I had left not to post: "I was in front of a Macbook the whole day and managed to keep it together. Get a freaking grip.")

To be honest, I do feel sad, but more than that I am thankful for the man that was Steve Jobs and the mind-blowing innovations that he birthed into the earth. He brought us closer to the 22nd century (or 23rd, whichever is your fancy). 

Maraming salamat Ninong Steve. If I get my own Mac, I'll definitely name it after you. 

Sound-off

What it takes to be better

It's quite interesting to think that even if information is now more accessible than ever before, that people are still misinformed/do not have the info they need, and make sweeping generalizations out of what little they know. I do this a lot of times, and for every time I've done it I realize that I do not know it all, and there's not a chance that I will know it all. I can give my opinion on certain issues or things, but I cannot generalize the entire world based on my thinking alone.

I say this because this right here happened. It was a simple reblog that didn't mean any harm; it was a statement of facts. Then, the original poster messaged me, which caught me by surprise. You could see with the way that I replied that I wasn't so pleased. I haven't gotten a message back, by the way. (I'd like to see him try.)

It's this kind of selfish thinking that's causing the problems of this country. It's always me first rather than me last. It's not the world - it's my world. People in government would rather amass ill-gotten wealth first rather than deal with third-world problems. Forgiveness is given so easily, but the lessons learned from dispensing that forgiveness are so easily forgotten. Our own comfort comes first rather than the comfort of those who aren't comforted.

The National Anthem suddenly comes to mind - ang mamatay nang dahil sa 'yo - isn't that the epitome of selflessness? We know this by heart, so why is this so hard to do?

Loving this country is a struggle for me - it's a love-hate relationship, if you will. Voting and paying for my taxes is pretty much as far as it goes. I don't like to wear nationalistic shirts, nor do I buy them (if you give me one, I'll probably not wear it too often. Baka gawin ko lang na pambahay.). As a friend aptly puts it, "nationalism is not a shirt", meaning your nationalistic shirt doesn't necessarily equate to your level of nationalism. As for me, I don't want to wear something like "100% Pinoy" or "I♥PH" and be a hypocrite about it.

But ask me about Rizal, and the fangirl in me will come out. Ask me to go to Intramuros or Rizal Park (which is quite near my house), and I will surely bring my camera. But, if you ask me to translate this passion into current affairs, I will shy away from it. I can talk about it, but my interest will not last long.

What I do not do is impose this way of thinking upon other people and say that this is how "the whole country" is thinking. That's stupid.

I know that there are people out there who love this country unconditionally, in spite of its many imperfections. There are people everyday who risk their lives to defend this country and make it their job. There are still honest people in the government who remain honest in spite of the backlash and bad reputation they're receiving. There are people who have not lost heart and continue to innovate and receive acclaim, then give the glory back to this nation. These people are better than I am.

It is with posts like those I have linked that spark whatever Pinoy pride I have in me. It provokes me to ignite the fire and keep it burning (It shouldn't go out to begin with.)  It also keeps me on my toes that I should always be thinking, always be seeking, always be keeping an open mind, and be aware that in the vastness of this universe, I am but a tiny specimen in it, but one of 6 billion strong and special who have a soul.

The simplest of things, the intricacy of things

I love bread.

I think my kind of love for bread was passed down from my lola. Everytime I was in her house, when she was still alive, she'd always toast some pan de sal (to the point that it's nearly burned), then she cracks it open (I love it when steam comes up out of the bread), puts imported butter (emphasis on IMPORTED) on the fluffy interior, then closes it and gives it to me. Kung walang gatas ng kalabaw at kanin sa umaga, this is enough to start my day.

Until now, I love bread and butter. I can live off of breakfast for weeks with good-tasting bread and butter. I guess I also got my "pickiness", if you will, for butter from my lola. Whenever I can, I buy imported (just like her).

I remember an interesting argument about bread that I had with the other Cinemalaya volunteers. One of them said that the best way to appreciate bread is if you have it with palaman. If you eat it on its own, you're not tasting the bread's true potential. You need an "opposing force", if you will, in order to judge how good it is.

But I argue, bread is supposed to be good enough to eat on its own. Unless you eat it as is, you won't be able to appreciate, say, the soft crunch of a ciabatta's exterior, the crisp of a french baguette, or the fluff of the simplest pan de sal. If you have palaman on bread, you won't fully appreciate its many intricacies cause it's likely that your palaman overpowers your bread. You'll just say, "ang sarap ng cheez whiz!" or "panalo ang hotdog!", maybe even "ang alat ng sardinas!". It will never be about the bread.

I love bread.

So much so that I had to make a post about it.

LOL

What is unseen is eternal

Cinemalaya is this week, and I was accepted as a volunteer (thirty-something out of a hundred plus applicants, who would have thought?). I am very happy about having a sort-of job for most of this week, even if it was volunteer work (i.e. working for free), especially if it is for the arts.

My first Cinemalaya movie was Astig in 2009. It was mind-blowing. It was the kind of movie that I was looking for in Philippine cinema, an industry that is dogged with commercialism and predictable formulae that bring in the much needed buck. It acknowledged that the Filipino moviegoer can think. If you've known me for a while, you know I never watch Filipino movies. You can say that I hate the commercialized ones, and I won't deny it. Most of them are insulting to the intellect. The first Filipino movie that I watched was Jose Rizal, and that was followed ten years later by Kasal, Kasali, Kasalo. (I was dragged into it, so yeah...)

--- --- ---

You might ask what are the perks of being a volunteer. Biggest perk is that you get to watch all of the movies for free, provided that you have rendered this many hours. Second best perk is that you get a t-shirt after rendering 16 hours. Third best perk is you get to hang out at the CCP (which is quite a rare thing - for me, at least...you don't get to run around at Tanghalang Pambansa and get away with it XD). Fourth best perk is that you will never go hungry there. They never run out of food, thanks to their sponsors. No, we were not given free passes for our family and friends.

This picture here is the "makeshift" Excel spreadsheet at HQ, which shows which movies are on at what time and at what venue. One of the jobs of the volunteer is to change the signs outside the theaters to the title of the next flick. Other jobs include manning their RFID system, which is a pilot project of the CCP. At times we were also assigned to sell merchandise.

Did I abuse my perks? Not really. Out of my three days as a volunteer, I only got to watch three films: Shorts A, Ang Sayaw ng Dalawang Kaliwang Paa, and Amok. I will get to those films later.

--- --- ---

I had a conversation with one of the employees of CCP during my duty at the Tanghalang Nicanor Abelardo. He asked about me, if I was a student, where I lived, and why I volunteered.

"I like Cinemalaya movies," I said. "They're my type of sine."

"Why?"

"Well," I said. "I ... don't really watch Filipino movies. As much as possible, I don't." I tried to laugh it off, but it didn't change the seriousness of my answer. "They're too commercialized."

"Well, that's true." The employee said after a brief pause. "What kind of movies do you like, anyway?"

I smiled. "I like sad endings."

"Really?"

"Yeah, or endings that are sort of hanging, but will make you think. I like that sort of thing. I don't like happy endings."

"Really? Why? What's with happy endings?"

Yeah, what's with happy endings anyway? I pondered on the question; it wasn't enough that I said it was a personal preference. "I...think...there's nothing wrong with happy endings. We're all in search of that happy ending, whatever it means to us. But the reality is, we have to go through many tough times in order to reach that 'happy ending'. I think most of the commercialized movies that we have neglect that. They aren't real."

He nodded. "I get what you mean. So you're saying that the reality of our situation isn't being shown in most of the movies that we have here, and that is why you don't like it."

"Yeah," I said. "And what sucks is that it's movies that are formula-based that make so much money, but that isn't reality. It's a form of escape."

"Well, you cannot blame them." The employee told me. "It's what sells. And with the kind of people who see those movies, they'd like to see something that lightens their spirits."

"I know," I sighed. "A lot of people are hand-to-mouth in here...but that shouldn't stop us from making films that are like these."

"I'm curious, what made you decide to like movies with sad endings?"

That's a good question. I paused and thought for a while, searching for that turning point. "The Lion King," I answered. "Okay, it's a Disney movie, so it obviously ends happily, but what made me love that movie was because Mufasa died, and when that happened it made me cry.

"Until now I still get teary-eyed when it gets to that scene, but I realized that what was in front of me was reality. People do sacrifice their lives for the sake of other people. Death is inevitable. It was sad, and yet it was real."

--- --- ---

If you haven't watched any Cinemalaya flick and are still undecided on what to watch, here are my recommendations:

Ang Sayaw ng Dalawang Kaliwang Paa is my FAVORITE Cinemalaya film thus far. If you would go gaga for poetry, music and dance, then I strongly suggest that you watch this film.

The cinematography is awesome. A lot of the shots gave me goosebumps. What was even more gripping was the poetry, most enthralling was the poetry coupled with music. Ye gads, it was beautiful. I'd buy a soundtrack of this movie if ever one came out.

If gay flicks aren't your thing (as in you're the type who would storm out of the movie house at the slightest hint of gay love), my suggestion is to keep an open mind. In my opinion, the same thing could have happened to a boy and a girl (or even girl x girl), but gender isn't really the point of the movie, nor is gay pride. It is, for me - simply put - an unlikely love story.

Shorts A is also good (didn't watch Shorts B, but a lot of people have been telling me that Shorts A is better). My favorites in Shorts A were Samarito, Every Other Time, and Nino Bonito.

Amok. HUWAW. This movie had its downs...at some parts it kind of dragged for me, but how it all finished was very gripping.

The major feat of this movie - for me, at least - was that it was shot in Pasay Rotonda. That area is chaotic, like I rarely go down the road there for fear of my life. How do you even shoot a movie there? For the execution of this seemingly impossible feat I give it two thumbs up.

The movie had its own fair share of tragedies, of reconciliation (mother and daughter, guy and his fake Levi's), and humor (oh this you have to find out for yourself!).

However, the part of me that loves the written word makes me prefer Sayaw than this movie. I'm not so much of a fan of action movies to begin with; having said that, this movie, nevertheless, was a real treat.

Ang Babae Sa Septic Tank was the first movie I watched for this year. It was downright funny, but it didn't compromise the realism. In fact, I think it was too real, more than the other two films.

This film had the hottest actors. If you'd like some eyecandy, this is the movie for you. Eugene Domingo's performance here was quite something. I don't know how real the ending was (don't want to spoil)...but if it was real then much kudos to her. I wouldn't do that for the life of me.

I also think I saw someone in this movie whom I've seen before. Like...during Sundays, specifically. O___o I could be wrong, you know.

--- --- ---


So much for Cinemalaya! This thing here will be happening real soon:

I GOT TIX TO THE BROOKE FRASER LIVE GIG ON AUGUST!
(I own the frontmost ticket, all the rest aren't mine XD)

There's definitely a price to pay for something like this that happens once in a blue moon. I swore I'll watch a Brooke Fraser concert in Manila. Now that it's going to happen, even if I am a professional bum, I got myself a reserved seat. It will be worth it. It's for a good cause. I will get to see Manang Brooke. It's all good.

Dreams do come true

No, I'm not talking about the type of dream where you meet your showbiz/boyband crush for x number of years in person, or you get married with your first love from high school. I'm talking about dreams that you have at night.

There have been many times when I've dreamt about stuff that actually happens in real life. Like, I dream about being in a certain situation in a specific place in a specific time of day. Then, weeks/months later, I have this undeniable feeling of deja vu, and I realize that the same happening appeared in my dream.

It gets creepier. I dream about death, like I dream that people will die soon. And my "batting average", if you will, is nearly spot on. I won't go there, cause I rather find it very confounding. XD If you're an X fangirl, you could say that I'm sort of the likes of Hinoto - a yumemi.

Anyway, this whole "dreamseeing" business is basically the foundation for the main purpose of this post - the long-awaited update on the audition that I went to last June 18.

Last week, I dreamt that I didn't pass. It was the kind of dream that had the same theme, thickness and certainty as with the other dreams I've had of the imminent future. If you follow my tweets, I've been lamenting on the lack of updates (I've been told that the results would be released by month-end). But when the dream came, I knew that I had to accept the inevitable.

Then tonight, I finally got an email from the organizers of the audition. I won't deny that I had a tiny sliver of hope left that I snagged a role. So, with bated breath, I opened the email. Text follows below:

Not by might, or by power...

Hello universe, I am back. /le sigh

This will be long. Let's take this one event at a time...


--- --- ---

One hundred years of Lasallian presence

One hundred years of Lasallian education

One hundred years of Lasallian awesomeness

--- --- ---

Me, along with some college friends celebrated the Centennial last Thursday. We first met at CBTL in the newly renovated University Mall (promise, the University Mall that we experienced was FAR from the UMall now), then we had dinner at Persia Grill just beside it. By the way, DO NOT EAT THERE and spare yourselves terrible service and forced tipping. We had to be in school before 7:30 to get to the acoustic concert/poetry reading, but since service was poor, we got to school quite late. And yes, we were forced to tip. No joke here. They didn't have change for the money that we gave and the server had the gall to tell us "I-tip niyo na lang yan." We were late, so we didn't have time to argue. If we argued, it would have been over a Php20 bill, but then again it was worth the arguing because they didn't deserve the tip to begin with. Anyway, I hope that this blog post will serve its purpose when the adventurous person Googles Persia Gril U-Mall and finds this entry here. It will be worth letting go of the Php20. =D

Now, DLSU is very different from the campus where I spent a year and a half with. It's very urban, which very much suits the city where it is situated. It doesn't help too that the football field has been excavated in order to make way for the Henry Sy Hall, so now the school is left with but a few trees. But football field or none, the memories that we collectively shared in DLSU are the stuff that not even new buildings can take away from us.

Since we were late for the acoustic concert (THANK YOU TALAGA PERSIA GRILL UMALL), we celebrated the Centennial at *drumroll please* the 4/F of the Miguel Hall.

This building was my home for nearly a year and a half. M314 was my first classroom, so a lot of my "testing the waters" happened in this hall right here. What I'll never forget about Miguel is its ridiculously cold aircons. Ang lagi ko ngang biro in the workplace is that in La Salle, we are trained not only for the real world, but also to withstand cold room temperatures that are common in the workplace. Some go as far as believing me with wide-eyed wonder. HAHAHAHAHA.

Yes I know there's a concert and other things, and celebrating the Centennial in a deserted hallway seems like the most boring way to celebrate...but just reminiscing college life in sheer quiet, without sharing the humidity on ground and getting the sweat of other people on your arms is blissful.



--- --- ---

Have I mentioned that I lost my voice? *looks back at previous entries* Yes, I did.

It's been a month since then. The "breathy" phase of it is gone, but I still sound rough. What's worse, I seem to have lost control of my diaphragm/lungs, in the sense that I cannot hold air for too long.

This by far is the worst completely-lost-my-voice incident I have ever had. To make matters worse, I absolutely hate salabat.

Today, I visited the ENT again (two or three weeks ago he prescribed me some steroids, which goes to show how bad it was...), and he gave me some anti-inflammatory and anti-reflux meds, plus he told me to hydrate and refrain from vocal abuse. I wanted to snicker when he said that cause I absolutely loved the term...

So, there's nothing left for me to do but obey the prescription, do vocalizations...and probably take a swim at the Sports Complex so I could strengthen my lungs again.

Hay, hail to thee alma mater talaga.



--- --- ---

I mentioned the voice issue because...*breathes in*

I went to an audition yesterday. My first audition in...years. Like, seriously.

Against all odds (including my voice teacher XD), I decided to go with my audition for this musicale. It was the last day of auditions, and I chose to confirm on the last day on purpose cause I thought my voice will be back by then. Of course...if anything can go wrong, it will. /le sigh

I was the fourth to audition in the afternoon batch. When I heard the first one, I was like oh my stars, why am I here? I fumbled for my iPod inside my bag and tried to distract myself with my music and the lines that I was given for the audition. Inside my head, I was telling myself, why am I here? I was told that I shouldn't be here, and yet I came! My voice isn't in perfect condition! The one singing sounds incredible - how can I stand a chance with this voice?! 


So I prayed. I think I remember praying that God will help me do whatever I can in order to sing at the very least in tune, and not to sound too hoarse...and probably a hodgepodge of other fragmented thoughts that came at the spur of the moment, and then I distinctly heard:

Not by might, or by power, but by My Spirit.

At that point, I knew that whatever the outcome will be, it will be as God wills. And with that thought in my mind, with all fear shoved aside, I was asked to enter the audition room.

And, as how most anime episodes end: つづく . . . Heeheehee. The story goes on.

Between two realities

< OBLIGATORY GLOATING PART OF THIS POST >

I survived the NON-DOOMSDAY/RAPTURE of May 21, 2011.

Need I say I told you so? XD

< / OBLIGATORY GLOATING PART OF THIS POST >

--- --- ---

I'll reserve camp talk for another post, simply because it deserves its own post, and I want to have pictures to show when I write about it.

In a nutshell, however, it was traumatizing. Yes it was generally great...I had fun being myself (more specifically being pasaway) and everything, but the emotional toll on myself was just so much that I completely lost my wits at one point. Oh, and my voice too...that I completely lost by Friday.

Nevertheless, beyond my feelings and dealings I am so overwhelmed with what happened in camp. It definitely exceeded all expectations. At a point in camp I thought the sensation of having mud thrown on my face will be a feeling that will haunt me for the rest of my life...but the mind has its way of dealing with these things. XDDD I just wish I had a moment to watch all the awesomeness unfold, but my job in camp was to fight a battle that was supernatural in nature and minister to kids who were hurting and lost. It was a test of mental toughness in many ways, and I'm glad I survived (although barely).

Let me just say that there were a lot of stuff that I didn't know I had in me that showed during camp. What surprised me the most that there were many times that I was completely aware of my "mind" or "soul" taking a backseat, while someone (or should I say Someone...yup, that's more accurate) completely takes over. It gets better: the takeover was so complete that I could barely remember what I said, or rather, what my mouth uttered to a specific person I was praying for at a certain time. So, I know I was standing, I know my hands were on a person, I know I was speaking, but the words...just...wow. On a normal day or conversation, I wouldn't be able to say them.

Today, my voice is back, yet I sound hoarse still. I'm trying to keep quiet as much as possible since I have two job hunting appointments tomorrow, and I definitely need the trusty throat to be well enough in order to impress.

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I am officially a grad student of De La Salle University.

Since it was a requirement, I attended the new students' orientation yesterday afternoon (which was basically like undergrad LPEP, only many notches down in terms of execution). I enjoyed more the program-specific orientations, to be honest.

Here's the stuff that stuck during the four hour-orientation:
1. I cannot get a grade below 2.0 (which is basically anything below 80%),
2. If I want to pursue a doctorate degree, my chosen program will not cut it, and
3. I have eight years to finish the program.

Number 2 is something I'm content about at the moment, cause I honestly don't want to do a thesis by my lonesome. Plus, for the life of me, I cannot imagine attaching a "Dr." salutation to my name XDD.

Number 1 is something I am a bit nervous about. Then again, during undergrad, I only got two 2.0s. But that was undergrad. So yeah. XDDD

Number 3 I found very amusing.

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When the orientation was over, I felt obligated to see for myself the Coffee Bean and Tea Leaf branch inside the University Library.

I saw it, and inside my head the Hallelujah Chorus played. The moment was glorious.

Now the Library will have the aroma of coffee mixed with old man smell. That's definitely an upgrade. XDDDD

Don't come looking for me

Just when I thought that I have had my fair abundant share of camp experience during high school, I find myself preparing to attend this year's youth camp at church - not as a participant, but as a worker.

Funny also that I can barely remember my own youth camp experiences back in high school (btw all my youth camps were high school-initiated. I never attended the church youth camps when I was studying). Only fragments remain...such as the awful accommodations we got (the cabin smelled of cat poo cause there was cat poo inside; plus we were expecting rooms with air conditioning but all we got were said filthy cabins and an exposed shower area) and the feeling of being set on fire with the heat coming from within, and then I was taking a plunge to a deep recess that I know I'll never get out off...and then I woke up sweating...

Oh, and I don't remember if it was the same camp or another one from a different year, but it was also during camp when I had my first encounter with a live snake (outside a zoo). It was in the pool that we were all swimming on. One classmate had a tremendous fear of snakes that he freaked out when it was lifted out of the water. And to think I was freestyling-breaststroking-pretending-to-drown with the rest of my classmates with a snake lurking just nearby...

SO. YEAH. YOUTH CAMP. AT TWENTY FIVE. This ought to be interesting...

Oh...this also means that I'm out of the radar (i.e. NO INTERNET HOHMG) from Tuesday until Friday...and probably Saturday too, cause that's enrollment day.




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I am back in Manila. I won't be coming back to Laguna tomorrow, or the next day.

I won't be coming there for a while.

Like I said a few posts back, I want to depart from my style of blogging now - which is, well, pretty random and slice-of-life with a kick - to one that is more introspective and journal-like. The way to do this, I guess, is to write more, as in notebook-pen writing. My tendency is when I'm doing the journaling online I get distracted with a lot of stuff that there's absolutely no room to do some real thinking. In one article I read about writing, the author recommended disconnecting your computer from the Internet in order to write. But for me, the fact that I am in front of a computer means instant distraction. If there's no Internet I have my video files, my iTunes, my photos...

Hence, it's time to go back to the roots of writing. The pen is mightier than the sword, so goes the saying, and a sword can definitely do major pwnage on laptops!





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Two of my last pictures of very familiar sights in Laguna. The first one is my final sunset, less the sun, and the view of the familiar empty dorm hallway, the first door is the one that led to my room.  The second picture is very interesting (to me, at least). I always see maya, but this is the smallest one I've seen in my entire stay, and this was taken on my last day. I was hoping that it wouldn't fly away while the camera was focusing on it, and it didn't. =D Both were taken using Dylan, so excuse the 5MP quality. XD

Here's a transcript of what I wrote during the eve of my last day in Laguna. A lot of things were on my mind then...when I tried processing all these by myself, I became very emotionally charged, and I knew that there was no other way to wrestle with it other than to write it all down.