Some things can be shitty pretty. Whut uuup.

The day is about to end. I have done two write-ups, listened to a lot of complaints, attended a very boring meeting and forgot to play music. The shirt that I wore to work has a hole in it (haven’t seen it before). My shoes looked as if they had been sprinkled with pressed powder. My stomach is queasy (must be the coffee, durian candies and the cheese bread). My hair is a mess. I have no load. I miss home. I accidentally bought load for someone else’s number. I received news that the week ahead is going to be full-packed. I have not watched a movie in two months. My poem-writing ability has gone from crappy to dearly departed. I’m hungry. Our room is a mess. I could not find my Dorm Juice shirt. My face does not indicate oil shortage. My bangs aren’t cooperating either. He is going home on the 15th. Some of the movies I downloaded are archived. And locked. And cannot be unlocked. My life is about to change.

Tanduay Ice. 28 pesos na. Haay..

Going Undercover: A lecture-forum on Quality Journalism

(This was one of the articles which my laziness forbade me to posts. XD)

Just hours ago, I and my classmates attended a lecture-forum entitled “Going Undercover: Making a Commitment to Quality Journalism”. The speaker was Dr. Gary Swanson, a multi-awarded and distinguished journalist from the University of Northwestern Colorado.

He was a great speaker: full of great insights, great experiences and of great ideas. He enlightened us about good and bad journalism, journalistic responsibility, electronic journalism and the importance of citing sources. He also touched on digital enhancement and photo manipulation, making some of us a bit uneasy—needless to say guilty (but we don’t publish ours, just for the sake of private humor, hehehe).

Funny because I am not a frequent visitor of YouTube, but when I close my eyes while the forum is progressing, it’s like listening to a YouTube video, only the speaker is closer and much more..alive.

He inspired us, not only because our field (Communication and Media Studies) is one which is directly affected by his lecture, but also because he is right. “One of the best things about being alive is watching the world change”. And we, as future media practitioners, are the ones most privilege to see and/or make that change.

He lamented about how the great information overflow is challenging the thinking capabilities of humans. “In a world where information is available, how can we even think?” Indeed, he is true. Instead of our brains, our fingers have done the thinking job for us.

I, however, disagree with his ethnocentric self. He told us a story about how his Chinese wife fancied a squirrel because it was her first time seeing one when she migrated with him to the United States. Then, for rapport, he asked us: Do you know what a squirrel is? Do you know how it looks like?
DUH. (No need to elaborate here, I think.)

This was after he told us that “The people in the United States know very little, or nothing at all, about the Philippines”. We understand this bit. We are not a country which is known for being an economic entity or for nuclear weapons. But to ask us a question so contradictory of his earlier statement about information overflow is simply dumb. “How can he even think?” Nah, just kidding. But seriously, I could have stuffed the squirrel up to his ***. We have Internet and schools here, hello? One of them is shading your Caucasian head now while you lecture.

But except for that part, I guess its safe to say that we have learned a lot from him. That’s what’s more important anyway. “If you can walk away from here with just one thought, then I’ve done my job”.
Ethnocentricity aside, thanks a lot still, Dr. Swanson!

haaay..

What’s the score between the two of us?
I know and you know, that there is some wall between us that wasn’t there before.

Those wary stares..
The cold reception..
The ‘kunu-abi-wala-lang‘ attitude…

I don’t like it. It creates a void in me every time we see each other and pretend not to. I want to run away from you but at the same time, I want to grab your hand, force you against the wall and ask you,

“What the hell is wrong?!”

I hope, the next time you and I have a chance to talk, you will be mature enough to know the answers. Because now, I know and feel, that you aren’t yet. :(

(Google Images)

a little too much

Just last night, Balay Kanlaon’s Auction Night was capped. It was entitled “Surivor Philippines: Kanlaon” with its famous tagline, “Who will be the last Kanlaon survivor?”, after the equally famous reality TV show from where the auction night’s title and theme was derived.

I would not have wanted to come. There were a lot of things to do and we just came home tired from the city. But as it was the one of the last auction nights that we are going to witness (kasi gagradweyt na po kami, hihi) and two of my friends have crushes among the auctionees, I decided to tag along.

Auction Nights in the UPV dorm history were never like this one. The entire production was carefully thought of and executed. All of the auctionees were thoroughly deliberated (good-looking, brains, body, etc.); it seems that the dormers of Balay Kanlaon were expecting a lot of people not only to attend, but to bid, most especially.

For one, the venue for the auction nights was always in the inner court of the dormitories. This time, they had half of the covered court transformed into the set of “Survivor Philippines”. There were torches, Aztec masks and all the “native-ness” that went along with it. The dormers of Balay Kanlaon also brought out chairs for the ones who bought VIP tickets. Lastly, the tarpaulins which were initially used as communication materials were hanged “clothesline-style”.

But that’s just some of the bright parts.

Over the years, Balay Lampirong, the other freshmen dormitory, usually got more money than Balay Kanlaon could accumulate. For one, Balay Lampirong required all of their male freshmen to be auctioned. Needless to do math, Balay Lampirong had more income than Balay Kanlaon does with only 10 auctionees.

Last year, however, the freshmen of Balay Kanlaon broke the record by banking on publicity and good-looking auctionees. If I remember correctly, the highest bidder purchased a guy for P6,000 (my 5-6 weeks worth of allowance)—the highest that have ever heard of.

This year, that record escalated even more (to think that BK only had ten auctionees). Now get this: the third auctionee, a female, was bought for P5000. And that’s just the third auctionee. The rest of the auctionees (numbers 1-8) average earnings were between P2000-6000. The last male auctionee was bought for P9000. The price of the last female auctionee: P10,400. OMFG. That’s roughly six weeks worth of college allowance or a semester’s tution fee!

I cringed at the thought of UP students becoming more and more inclined to commercialization (or overspending, for that matter)—the very thing which we are itching away from. There was one student who was a part of an organization fighting against fare increase, tuition hike and the commercialization of education. But he was there, and he bought an auctionee. It’s not that I’m meddling into his affairs or that I have a personal vendetta against him but I think that his act was kind of the opposite of what he was fighting for.

But then again, it’s his life and money. He can do whatever he wants to do with it. What saddens me is the inconsistency in his principles. But to give him the benefit of the doubt, he might be the friend of the auctionee and he was just trying to “save” her from the other bidders who might “exploit” her. I hope for his part that my second hunch is true.

I don’t know if BL’s earnings will exceed BK’s this year. I don’t know if those who bought auctionees are going to go hungry for a month or so. I don’t know if being an auctionee is an honor or a curse. But there’s one thing which really stuck with me after the event is: Didn’t the bidders think that too much money should be spent for a mere 24 hours with one person?


Google Images

A bird told me that BK earned roughly P24,000 that night ( several thousands more than what the previous auctions were able to earn)-that is if the bidders will pay. wehehe.

Crazy Little Thing called Love

Hype makes something otherwise common become inviting to watch. One good example are movies. Those who have watched it exaggerate on what the movie can offer and relay them to those who have not yet seen it. Then, those who have not yet seen it develop this strange yearning to watch it.

But sometimes, expectations are violated. We are hoping that we could share the same euphoric feeling with our friends who have watched it. And more often than not, we are displeased.

A Crazy Little Thing Called Love is a Thai movie top billed by Mario Maurer. If his name sounds familiar, it’s probably because you have seen Love of Siam, where he also plays one of the lead roles. The story is all about high school loves and the impossibility of becoming that white and pretty after three years of looking like a “darkling” (suffice to say that the movie is a literal translation of the Ugly Duckling). Kudos to the Thais for creating that transformation for Nam.

This Thai movie is one of those which triggered this kind of feeling within me. My friends have long been “injecting” us with positive reactions after watching this movie. They look so ecstatic, so enlightened. It made me wonder why. So I watched the movie, and while my two friends shed tears as it progresses, I was enveloped in my high school world. I kept likening the movie stars’ experiences with mine and I felt very glorious when she ended up with her high school crush. Yipee!

Generally, I’d say that the movie was good…until it ended. This was one of those movies where you get to appreciate the first ¾ part and loathe the remaining ¼. Sayang is the key word. It could have been great. Let me tell you why:

The movie breaks the hearts of the viewers when the lead character, P Shone, rejects Nam’s love when he was in love with her for almost the same time that she was. Then they part ways. Nine years later, Nam returns to Thailand as a well-established fashion designer. P Shone becomes a photographer. The supposed-to-be climax of the story is very disappointing because P Shone declares his love for Nam on television. It is downright chaka.

They could have just met in the streets, looked each other in the eyes and recognize the same mutual love. The movie could have ende with a simpler way of presenting the two lovers’ love. But the end spoiled what could have been a good movie. Sayang..

Overall however, I recommend this movie if you’re in for teary nights. It’s great for reviving your high school cognition and reliving the past guy/girl that comes with it. :)

P.S.

Most of my dormmates have fallen in love with Mario Maurer after watching this movie. I still am rooting for Mew, his significant other in Love of Siam. XD

excommunicated

My uncle (the husband of my father’s sister) and I were never exactly close even if his house and ours are only a few steps away from each other. In fact, we had a minor squabble before, which lead to our indifference towards each other. Now, we are starting to patch things up.

He almost never impressed me, honestly. But I am not exactly righteous nor am I always on the rational side, so I guess I am not a standard for impressing people. Hahaha! But due to one particular incident, he got my thumbs-up.

On the morning of the barangay elections, his “Sis” (the term of endearment their religious group refer to each other) went to his house and made him sign on a paper containing words similar to these: Sa adlaw sang election, indi ako maggwa sa akon balay. Indi ako magboto. (On election day, I will not go out of my house. I will not vote. )

When I asked my mother why the weird happening, she replied that the said religious group were not approached for help in the upcoming elections. But even if I took into considerations the popularity of their religious group for solidly supporting one candidate who asked for their help, I still cannot see the point of the signature campaign.

My mother, being the argumentative type, mildly harassed my uncle for signing the paper. She spoke of human rights and freedom to vote. I found myself agreeing and wondering why the religious group came up with that action.

After casting our votes, we went home to find uncle bustling among the kitchen. His index finger had indelible ink. He said that my mother was right and blah blah blah. Wow, I thought.

The following morning, he was abnormally early to be here in our house. He told us that he was threatened of excommunication for not abiding. Crazy them, I said aloud. He said, let them be. If that is what they want, so be it.

Even if I am not a devout Catholic—and I, for one, disagree with some things which it upholds—I am thankful that it does not have rules against voting. For me, voting is to the State as the 7 Sacraments is to the Church. They should never overlap in these things. I laud my uncle for knowing and applying his right to suffrage.

P.S. Coincidentally, our viand for that night was dinuguan—an enemy dish of my uncle’s religious organization. We jokingly told him that he should eat some to celebrate his “excommunication”. He politely declined.

photo by Google images

jack of all trades, master of none

If Robert Frost were alive today, he would look at me with deep sympathy as a high-end bag would look down on a bayong. He would probably shake his head sideways and click his tongue at my utter lack of direction in life.

I am the kind who loves to do a lot of things at the same time and leave them unfinished. I do not seem to find something interesting to do everyday and still be in love with it after a few months—except eating and all that…

I do not know if I am going to land in some “proper” job that I will be proud of. Truth be told, I do not know what will become of me when I graduate. I want to do a lot of things but I do not see myself doing well in any one of them.

Can I read books for a living?
Can I just update my Facebook account every day with witty status and earn from it?
How much will people pay me for cracking corny jokes?

Probably, I will land into some job which I do not love, leap to another which does not satisfy me, skip to another which I am not qualified for and space out not knowing what do I really want to do for a living.

Is this a bad characteristic? I hope to find the answers soon. Meantime, I will draw. No, I will edit photos. Err, I will go fishing at 11:44Pm. Or write randomness. Or send group messages. Or maybe, dye my hair green. :D

(photos taken from www.4.bp.blogspot.com)

the would-have-beens

Was it Gandhi who said “A man is but the product of his thoughts. What he thinks, he becomes”? These days, when i am more physically overworked, my mind wanders off to some magical place full of bubbles and clouds. Nothing is tangible. Everything seems distant yet achievable. I must be am cracking up.

I would have wanted to write a review about the film, Tekken, when I realized that it was not worth it at all. That film would not earn much, I am sure.

I would have wanted to write twenty articles for my WordPress account, ready for my fluctuating choice of whether I would declare a day as a holiday or not.

I would have wanted to make matching movies in cinemas a weekly or monthly habit. It’s simply addictive.

I would have wanted to eat breakfast every morning and drink milk do my tongue would not forget how they taste, but I am too lazy to wake up a total of 6 people.

I would have wanted to pay everything off until I’m forty, so I won’t have to worry about bills and payments.

I would have wanted to install speakers, fans and air-conditioning units, put bean bags and mats, and kill some of the staff (negotiable) the library because they piss me off sometimes.

I would have wanted to work already, I am tired of going to school, where there are absentee teachers; countless papers to be processed just so you could get something which was not worth your time and effort; and a No-Id-No-Entry policy which is totally useless, it makes the guards look stupid.

I would have wanted to kick somebody’s ass but maybe he or she is also thinking the same way about me.

I would have wanted to be the passive one for some time; I am just too tired to think.

I would have wanted to attend a few forums and write a few articles for publication but circumstances and imaginary stiff neck did not allow me to look at deadlines in the bulletin boards in the CAS Building.

I would have wanted for another bossy country to colonize the Philippines so we could wake up to the sound and spirit of nationalism, and perhaps get a cultural overhaul. Naks.

(photos taken from www.lapsura.com and www.carelessthoughts.com )

the bookworm hiatus

Reading a novel is almost like an unwritten essay for me these days. I just cannot seem to find a time when I could devour it in its glorious splendour altogether. See, it is important for me to read it in one go because I have this STML (short-term memory loss) or at least poor retention skills.

To make up for not reading them lengthy narratives, I make do with the shorties. They are as fun, creative, emotion-laden as the novels. However, I miss reading novels as much as I miss my dead Japanese Spitz.

Here are some of the few books I have yet (and looking forward) to read:

The Naked Face, The Stars Shine Down and Tell Me Your Dreams by Sidney Sheldon
Noli Me Tangere and El Filibusterismo by Jose Rizal
The Count of Monte Cristo by Alexandre Dumas
The Elephant Vanishes, Kafka on the Shore by Haruki Murakami
Veronica Decides to Die, Brida both by Paulo Coelho
The Lovely Bones by Alice Sebold
Smoke and Mirrors by Neil Gaiman
The Diary of a Wimpy Kid by Jeff Kinney
The Power of Beauty (I forgot the author’s name)
Olivia Joules and the Overactive Imagination by Helen Fielding
Kag para kuno abi scholarly, The Great Political Thinkers by William Ebenstein kag The Prince by Niccolo Machiavelli (Curious ko sang contents nila. :D)

Sooner or later, I hope to lay my hands on them. And when that time comes, I hope time stands still.