As predicted...

Jackpot! Well, almost. But 7 out of 8? (Counting my also correct predictions for the other two biggies) That's some redemption! My Auring skills are back! Thank God. I can make a living out of this. No, seriously.

The Hostess, Ellen DeGeneres
I'm a huuuge fan, but I'll keep it unbiased. Ok, not really, 'coz I love Ellen to death and I will samurai anyone who will say she didn't do a good job. She might have been short of racy jokes, but that's Ellen, and that's what her daily viewers like about her. She can produce funny moments without being as extreme as Chris Rock, and without totally choking up after the monologue like Jon Stewart. She was awesome, and again, I will elbow-drop the fuck out of anybody who disagrees. Make me.

Best Picture, "The Departed"
Minus the fact that it holds the most attractive ensemble of the nominees, this movie just had it. It was barbaric, sadistic, surprisingly witty, and overwhelmingly sexy. Recipe for success!


George Lucas must be having the worst time ever.
Best Director, Martin Scorsese, "The Departed"
FI-NAL-LY! Ok, I don't really have the right to celebrate because I barely have seen any other of his work. (I always find myself snorring while attempting to finish The Aviator and Gangs of New York, and I have never seen Good Fellas - boo me!) But I just can't help but exclaim "YES!" when he won, especially when I know that Clint Eastwood is as sneaky as a TacoBell rodent. Ha, he could have snagged that one too! But it's for Scorsese to keep, at last. And it's about time he looks for a new leading lady down here in Texas. (ahem!) It's been a long time coming!

Best Actor, Forest Whitaker, "The Last King of Scotland"
Although he was a condiment to my almost perfect predictions, I will admit that I was still crossing my fingers, until the very last nano second, that the envelope would finally have Leonardo DiCaprio's name on it. But it didn't, and Forest took it. (With thankfully, a non-shaking and totally-made-sense speech this time.) Don't get me wrong, I like Forest Whitaker. He's my homeboy! I might have skipped his film, but not his wit and musical skills... which I adore. But as for Leo, my love? He's gorgeous and all, and I'm afraid he's on track to a Scorsese curse.

Best Actress, Dame Helen Mirren, "The Queen"
I have seen this film, and I tell you, it's creepy how her portrayal is spot on. Enough said.

Best Supporting Actor, Alan Arkin, "Little Miss Sunshine"
I was really pleased to see Alan Arkin up on stage. (Despite being the cost of my 87% prediction results, and putting the trophy ON THE FLOOR upon receiving it - haha, grandas.) But I was just kind of shocked. I mean, his presence on the movie wasn't in its entirety, yet he gets nominated over the more peculiar role given to Steve Carell, (totally not throwing tantrums here, because as you know, I love love love Steve Carell, but just saying...) and beats out early favorite Eddie Murphy (who, unfortunately, tested the Academy's decorum by the early release of '08 Razzie frontrunner, Norbit). But it's Alan Arkin. And he's 73. And his role was a heroin-snorting, foul-mouthed, energetic grandpa that we all wish we had. Of course, he's going to win.


They look like they just came from a wedding. So cute!
Best Supporting Actress, Jennifer Hudson, "Dreamgirls"
Among all winners, this and Best Actress were probably the most predictable of all. If all the other awards (there's a ton) aren't any indication that she had this in the bag, then I don't know what is. It was like watching a Mavericks game. There's a slim to none chance of losing at all. And while Fantasia (the bitch who beat her out on Idol) will forever be introduced as the "America Idol winner" (fine... or "Grammy nominee," let's give her that) J-Hud will now have the "Academy Award winning actress" tag eternally attached to her name. Ha, eat yo' heart out, 'Tasia! Ok, I'm just being mean. Nothing against Fantasia and her duck voice.

Best Adapted Screenplay, William Monahan, "The Departed"
While I also slamdunked on this one, I can't help but notice William Monahan's Forest Whitaker moment in the middle of the speech. I mean, you wrote for Martin Scorsese, your film was nominated a bunch of times, and you appear to have not expected the win? Come on, Willy, who are you kidding?

Best Original Screenplay, Michael Ardnt "Little Miss Sunshine"
I really thought it was a photo finish between this and The Departed for Best Picture. But the consolation prize isn't bad, it got what it truly deserved, a nod for originality and fearless forecast of a real domestic chaos. That's why I consider this my favorite of 2006. Yes, even surpassing the stunning cast (worth twice the mention) and brilliance of Scorsese's Academy Award winning craft. I mean, honestly. I'm a 20-something yuppie. I can't relate my life relations to those of mafia themed movies, although they're sexy (thrice) and enjoyable. Whereas in movies like this, there's this sense of realism that makes viewers feel comfortable of what seems to be abnormal in their own environment. So kudos to the Academy for favoring Little Miss Sunshine over Borat's courageous (and naked) hysterical expose'.

And can I just say...

• Ellen was awesome, awesome, awesome. Can't say that enough. Awesome. She seriously needs to repeat. Awesome.
• Nice choice of winners, (I could care less about the others but still) I commend The Academy for rockin' the votes.
• I so wanted to be Al Gore last night. Besides the multiple wins... Hand in hand with Leo? Ugh, he's overly blessed.
• Speaking of his gorgeousness, look at him with Kate Winslet! (my favorite British person) So pretty. And can you believe it? It's been exactly 10 years since Titanic won for Best Picture! And was it just a coincidence that Celine Dion was also present? Hahaha. You're totally singing that freakin' song in your head right now. We'll stay forevah this wayyyy.....
• And lastly, Best Supporting Actress nominee, Rinko Kukuchi. Our Asian cousin (with couture Chanel) redeems herself from that horrifying Golden Globes freakgown. Good job, san!

Alright. Awards season is over. Back to work for them, back to reality for me. I have SIX chapter tests this week and I've morphed into a bookworm. Yikes, very geeky. If you didn't see the Oscars, and are completely clueless of what I just talked about, I'm sorry. That was just me, enlarging my already bootylicious butt, doing some observations on TV, and gushing over Leonardo DiCaprio's Italian charm. Come back next time, I'm giving out Target giftcards, you don't want to miss that.

2am heebie-jeebies

I've been basically working on a new template for 24 hours. I ran out of gas. So... as lectured by the weekly blue bag... recycle. Therefore, I did. Lame excuse, but I bet you hardly even remember it. Plus, it serves another purpose as a constant reminder to eat more fruits as the new season approaches. Not that I'll be gunning for that bikini body everybody will be obsessing on achieving in 3 months, but I'll simply TRY (again) to lose more. I had been swimming like Marina before fall and winter came along, and I felt lighter afterwards. So I'm planning on doing that again. In my yellow polka-dot extra large bikinis, no less. ;)

I told my dad I would get a job. He smiled. Probably thinking in his head, "it's about fuckin' time!" but I don't know... there's still this little senorita in me that fears the pressure of being commanded. Or being fired when I accidently fried the burgers when they're supposed to be grilled. But at the same time, I've been longing for that simultaneous flow of money. The kind of lifestyle where guilt is in no position to ruin your shopping sprees. If and when I get personal income, I won't have to pester my parents in luxuriating me with stuff they're not obligated to cater me anymore. I will be able to buy my own pleasure, bribe my brother to drive for me, and even pay for college fees. That's gotta be a lot of help to my parents, especially considering the fact that I'm still a palamunin at this age.

And most especially when your mom just recently told you, "wala kang pakinabang!" OUCH.

Did I really need to hear that? Again? Gee. Well, it's been 10 days since the last time I spoke to my mother. It's been awkward. I could tell. We're like not breathing the same air. I'd walk past her, she'd walk by me, we'd see each other in the eye, but we won't talk. Not a word.

I won't make the first move though. I have a really large ego, and when I get hurt, especially if I did nothing... I repeat, NOTHING... that's reasonably upsetting to you, I'm not gonna cuddle your upper thigh and beg for peace. My mother gets pissed at the simplest of things, and you won't even believe why she got angry at me to begin with. It's laughable even. But it hurts... It still hurts, especially when she acts as if we don't coexist. Or when I can't use her dryer, use more minutes on my phone, or borrow her huge pearl earrings. No kidding. Slight.

Tomorrow, or later (if you want to get technical), will be our third time hearing mass without making peace. Usually, I'd go right to her, give her a peck (during peace be with you session), and we'd be completely back to normal afterwards. But it's a different story this time. I felt like I was abused verbally and emotionally, and I'm not going forward again and make what happened seem fictional. This will probably cause me a lot, most notably a shortage of God's faith in my being a good Christian. But I'm really sorry Papa God, if I don't hold on to my pride, I'm afraid I might get into it again... much worse, get my stuff thrown out of the door only for the reason that I din't clean her toilent sink.

Dark and Twisted

Shonda's not really going to kill her titular character, is she? Duh, of course not. At least not in her dark and twisted being. While on the verge of death, McDreamy comes to her rescue ala knight and shining whatever... and there goes my cookieness. After an extended hiatus of extreme tear-gripage, I finally sobbed, heartbroken-ly-ish. What a denouement. What a show! As exclaimed by fellow greyhead Joey -perfectly- that certain episode KILLS! [No pun intended.] And I don't know if my cholesterol-wrapped weaks could handle more of these dark and twisted stories. But good Lord, Shonda is a genius! Never would've thought that the past two episodes would conclude the way they did. Let alone the sight of two former boylets of the show! Creepy yet very enticing. Hahaha. FINE! I don't care if it's a heart attack chasing after me now, but give me more drama! Peculiar, unexpected, bewildering drama... SERIOUSLY.

So addicted, I squeed when I saw James Pickens Jr. coach the East celebrity team of the NBA All-Star Friday night. CHIEEEEEEEEEEEF!!!! Literally. Asked, "Do you call Patrick Dempsey McDreamy?" he replied, "No. But he calls me McChocolate." Hahaha, loves it!

And I'm starting to think my mother and I have a Meredith-Ellis relationship. We fight, we love, we don't talk, we... I don't know already. You know it's just bizarre when she gets increasingly furious. She starts to morph into a dark and twisted monster. A monster who'd blurt out distinctively hard words that target cholesterol-wrapped weaks like mine. It hurts, and it always repeats... So I guess it's not at all insane of me to compare my life story to Meredith's... Um, mother-wise 'coz I remotely have no McDreamy (yet!). But whatev... I'm hanging on. As long as I believe I'm not being a pain in the ass, I will firmly hold on to my luggage. Like seriously... she can't be complaining about a daughter who has good grades, doesn't do drugs, doesn't even party anymore, does chores, dyes her roots, cleans her nails, plucks her brows, and resists the temptations of her coca-cola gallons. I'm pretty much doing a good job, and she tells me wala akong pakinabang??? Sorry mom, but that's bullcrap.

But this isn't supposed to be about me. I'll reserve more of my personal drama for later. Baka maubusan tayo, hehehe. Before I go though, I gotta tell you... The scene that made me cry really hard was the McSteamy-is-a-good-friend-after-all scene. Aw, man. That just inflated my already swollen eyes to extremes. I wish I had a friend... As hot as him... Poor me.

Happy V-day.

These heart-shaped doughnuts reminded me just what it had to be... Valentine's day isn't just for canoodling couples. It's about love as a universal element of everyday life. Hmmm, ok, that's a little too improbable, but heck... I wasn't not gonna go tuck my head underneath my red heart pillow and cry myself to sleep while some Boys2Men classic drives me pathetically nuts. Why not have some festive doughnuts instead? Ms. Dulan's Krispy Kremes were just timely. Not that I had to see pink pastries to lighten up my perception of it, but this sweet gesture comes from an unrepentant unmarried woman, hence, I just couldn't help but feel the guilt when my young is already bitching about not celebrating the day with a certain someone. So thanks, Ms. Dulan -- though there's a slim to none chance you'll be able to read this, but still -- for being such a positive influence to my childish Valentine's Day prejudice. I've been feeling dispirited the past couple of days (not solely because of being alone, romantically), and I can't thank you (and also Ellen's Valentine monologue), enough for being a mother when I needed one. You and your pink doughnuts totally rock!

But just when I thought I won't be bothered again, a blast from the past craps my mailbox...


Omarion's Ice Box... Ok, what the fuck is this supposed to mean?
Well, not really interested. So yeah, after seeing the video (which was very sexy, by the way), I threw the junkmail right to where it belongs. Let's just say he's my Spencer to my Heidi (The Hills). I'm fed up, I went out. He's struggling, I don't care. The only difference is that, Heidi's too fragile to be unattached and I'm not that dumb to go back. Seriously! Who wants a smelly Filipino from the alleys of Atlanta when you can get the steamiest Latinos in Texas? Hahahaha.Ü

Single life rules!!! Can't stress it enough. Drew Barrymore, you're my new curvy hero. I love you! Hope you all had a fabulous time today, tied or untied. I certainly did... with my iron and still suffering ironing board. Haha, no kidding. Anyway, vday & this layout, officially retired. Later, bitches!

The Peter Petrelli Hairstyle

This is why I strongly encourage ESL people to enhance their English. Rapido!
So I had my hair cut. Short. Really short. My mom freaked out, and she still does everytime she sees me. She had a lot to say about it, like... 1) I look fatter, 2) I look like a boy, and 3) I lost sophistication. Haha, thanks mom, that was some huge boost to my confidence! But seriously. I'm not gonna have a Top Model moment here and sob uncontrollably over this stupid mistake some old Mexican chick did to my head. It's just hair! I mean, unlike short penises, it'll grow back! Duh?

What I'm more concerned about is the reaction in school tomorrow. It's college, nobody would care! But my classes are different. I've been rehearsing my reply to Mrs. Dyer when she asks me why I did it -- she's all about change, and she'll be thrilled if she sees change! -- and what my facial expression would be when the entire class turns around and checks out my bob. Oh gosh, it's high school all over again. Nightmare! I think I should wink. Then onto my English class, where class clown Marvin or MV or EmVee would laugh at my new do and say that it looks hot two seconds later. Or maybe not. And lastly, my Algebra class, where I'll hopefully be greeted by this gay dude I've been laying my eyes on, stalker-style. He recently had a haircut, and I complimented it! I deserve payback... and friendship! :))

Note to self: shower, leave-on conditioner, quick blowdry, clip longer bangs behind ears, put on huge pearl earrings (for un-boyish looks), and refrain from cutting uneven stuff. Wait for it to grow back and don't ever come back to Pro-cuts for a haircut. NEVER!!!

Purple rain, purple rain...

Rex Grossman's cute failure; a wannabe healthy meal; and some procrastination
I don't know where you were last night, but if you weren't watching the Superbowl, then you must be napping on the moon...or...fine, you must have a life! But me? Ha, I was one of 95 million Americans who enjoyed the championship juggernut. Cuddled up in my mom's limegreen sofa, I treated myself with some toast, salad and chips, while sharpenning my vocabulary and awaiting Prince's halftime extravaganza. I don't have the extreme love for football (well, compared to the habitual tailgaters) but I started watching the post season a couple of months ago when the Cowboys made it. They only lasted a game [hahahaha, funny ending too!] but who cares, all I was waiting for was the Superbowl...because Prince was about to steal the show, yo!


What? No Little Red Corvette??? Part one here.
So there he was and his horrible bandana, bringing the pizazz in the roaring stadium. Who would have thought that one stilleto-wearing performer (apart from those who expose their boobs) could generate an audience of foul-mouthed football enthusiasts who all willingly participated in swaying purple glowsticks in the air while there's a tsunami on the way? Only Prince! And you can't really say anything antagonistic about the whole thing. It was heavily raining, there's a gazillion electronics the man's putting his hands on, his hairdo was undergoing a major disaster, and yet he delivers a performance nothing short of spectacular. Whatta bad ass!!!


Honey, don't talk with your mouth full.


Ok, there's so much joy over Peyton Manning's best QB without a ring nickname farewell, and although he deserves that, I can't believe this year's ads aren't snagging mad props! I know, there were some really corny ones, but come on. That gay lion thing was hilarious! And Kevin Federline's too! But I wouldn't go as far as liking that Snickers commercial. Men making out over a chocolate bar? Totally not for me. There goes my answer to your query, Charles! Haha. But if I were to have a favorite, it's gotta be this. Oprah and Dave snuggling with some popcorn and NFL game? Classic!

Just when I was already getting into this bizarre sport, it had to take a break. Oh well...

Happy trails, January!

Ms. Dulan: Happy February, y'all!
Rutendo: Happy what?
Me: Happy February too!
[clueless South African slash Englander]
Rutendo: Do you really say that here?
Ms. Dulan: Nah, just thought I'd say that.

Which obviously just had to remind me of my current lonesomeness. While most of those smooching couples will share a fancy dinner and a little sumthin'-sumthin' on the day, I will most likely spend that particular night watching American Idol with beer/soda and something else fattening.

Ok, not that I'd be emo-ing out the whole time. I'd probably talk to a friend, listen to Charlie Wilson's "Without You" three consecutive times, and frown intensely for a couple of hours, thinking that I should be a part of that celebrating geographic. But that's just about it. I'm pretty sure my Algrebra instructor would leave me something to work with on that sorrowful night. Probably the only time I'll ever be thankful for her beloved numerals.


Cold Valentine's

Weird as it may seem, it's been snowing here lately in DFW. Four times in one season, let alone three in a month!!! Although it's ideally fun to see and experience snow, it could be such a pain in the ass when you're out. Especially when you're inexplicably loaded with electrons.


And do we really need to spend another holiday... cold... and alone? I don't think so!
Forecast says though that there's an abundace of sunshine over the weekend. Abundance! Haha, I don't know how abundant that will be but that should be joy. Even if it means that we're bound to endure yet another barbarous Texas summer. Gee, we just get the best of both worlds, don't we? Regardless, I cannot wait to put '06-'07 sweater days to perspective and bring on the fashion! As Emily [from The Devil Wears Prada] perfectly puts it: interest in fashion is crucial. Yes! Even if you're fat!

Ok, my sentences don't come cohesive anymore. It must be the ice-cold water my brother handed me at 27°F midnight weather. Oh, brothers. I'm headed for a paperwork-load weekend. Hope you have fun with yours!