Under The Radar

Be aggressive! Be, be aggressive!

2008-02-09T23:47:00.000-08:00

I make sure that every other Saturday, the day after payday, is my “me” day. (Don’t you just love rhymes?) Generally, it's when I deposit my paycheck, go to Wal-Mart, and most importantly, get my nails done. Going to the nail salon is probably the most important luxury I get to guiltlessly bless myself with because of the obvious fact that I can’t do it on myself anymore—just one of the jerks of working every single day. I happen to have a very dry set of hands and toes because of excessive hand washing and the no-open-toe footwear rule as a teacher (although I tend to bend that rule when I’m working in the baby room). So thank God I found two of the best nail technicians in the world; Sheryl (who’s my manicurist) and Linda (my pedicurist). But let’s get past the dry skin and nails problem since I’m sure we all have that taken care of. I have been going to Signature Nails for about five months now and Sheryl has always been my girl even before Linda became my next go-to person. But since my resident pedicurist is relatively new, I’m going to tell you about Sheryl.

She’s Vietnamese (I’m sure y’all guessed that right), a nail technician, as mentioned, and has been living in the United States for most of her life. She also has a double Bachelor’s degree. Yes, a double Bachelor’s degree from University of Dallas and University of Texas at Arlington, no less. It’s pretty outstanding, eh? Well, yeah, super outstanding. Actually, it’s beyond outstanding, considering the fact that she’s doing my nails on a periodical basis. It’s quite a shame. I am honestly embarrassed to be paying her $5 tips for every manicure session we have. Because, truth be told, she could be in a laboratory right now, figuring out a way to cure STD, and, not to mention, earning bazillions of greens every year. So I became inquisitive with her—unhesitatingly, I might add. I asked her, “What the hell are you doing here?” I can’t remember exactly what she replied to that, but to get you to the bottom of it, she exclaimed that it’s mainly because of her thick, nasally, won’t-go-away Vietnamese accent.

How pathetic, right? So I began to rant to her face.

“Sheryl, you can’t be doing my nails forever.” She can only give me that "you’re right" grin that’s lightly concealed by her face mask. I started nagging her, like my mom does to me, about her rights as a citizen, and that she deserves to do more than just cleaning out cuticles. But I failed to make her realize something. Perhaps, after years of trying to prove her place, she just gave up on it—which is sad and utterly unjust.

Again, how does a Biology and Information Technology graduate end up in a saggy white uniform with a bottle of acetone? It’s simple. Racism, my friends. Racism, bigotry, prejudice, whathaveyous. Old, white, and narrow-minded people spearhead the corporate and medical fields in this country, which doesn’t make it any more surprising that they’d neglect a thick accented Asian girl an opportunity for a newly graduated blonde bombshell (who, for all we know, failed Math—twice!). That’s why I’ve always been very assertive when it comes to guarding my own color. It seems to be a hard task, but it doesn’t become second nature anymore when you feel like somebody is putting you down just so they can act a certain way to feed their dinosaur-sized egos. Sheryl, on the other hand, doesn't have the guts to do that. For one, she feels like her race owes a lot to this country, and two, that she doesn’t deserve her achievements after all. Very much the wrong mind set. But who am I to push her to do something that she’s not yet ready to confront?

It’s always a pleasure to have Sheryl do my nails. But even if she’s the best manicurist in the world, I still hope that one day she wakes up and decides that being Vietnamese, being Asian at that is no longer a hindrance for her to live her dreams.

But for the mean time, enjoy my big fat nails. You too, Linda! ;-)

Working like a dog.

2008-02-03T00:50:00.000-08:00

I have worked unforgivable hours for my current job. I never thought I had this workaholic in me! I mean, money is a magnet. But I didn’t expect it to be this magnetic. I underestimated my capabilities when it comes to getting paid. I also have been complaining. My mom and I just had a minor bitch fight yesterday over some undone chores. Ok, I was probably wrong for shutting her down after a 12-hour shift. But her memory kind of spaced out when she forgot that I work every day of the week for about 6-7 hours a day (with no breaks), plus school, and that I only caught 2 hours (TWO hours!) of sleep the previous night for a paper. My mother’s getting old, I get that. But sometimes, I just feel the need to buttheads with her, as often as she wants to burst my the-world-revolves-around-me bubble.

I, for very forgivable reasons, have thought of quitting my job. First things first, my job is very noble. It’s probably one of the best decisions I have ever made in my life. But being a teacher takes its toll. Especially if you’re a Kindergarten teacher at noon, a toddler teacher by 3pm, and an infant caretaker come 5. Being a teacher slash floater is not the easiest shit in the world. Don’t get me wrong. I adore those kids like they’re my own. It’s just that, for a couple of months, I experienced working in just one classroom, with the same eight babies, everyday. And being back to the floating arena is not what I had hoped for when I gave up my position for a friend who needs the hours more than I do. [Even if it’s wrong, I sometimes wish I hadn’t told her about my wondrous job. But that’s a sin and I don’t need any more of that.]

How can you resist a smile like Blake's?
But to my consolation, I get the luxury of rewarding my own hardwork with no guilt involved. I get a couple of martinis every weekend, a good serving of fine dining, and some shopping here and there. It’s kind of a blessing to be earning and only paying one bill (and that, my friends, is the cable). So I share. And it’s not just your ordinary “share”. I basically pampered my family on Christmas that I almost (just almost) forgot about myself—which, as you know, is a rarity. I gifted my mom this patch plaid duffel bag from Dooney and Bourke; my bestfriend got a black satchel from her favorite store; and the boys (aka dad and bro) got a pair of tickets for a Dallas Mavericks home game (AND, it’s even against the team they favor most from the opposite conference). Oh my goodness. I know! How special of a daughter, sister, best friend am I?? All together now… SO special! But even if they trapped me in great debt, giving as much as receiving is ultimately the most amazing reward I could ever give myself. I know, right? I’m not so much of a selfish, histrionic, narcissistic bitch after all.

Me and mi hermano after a one-sided Mavs win.
If I was too much of a bitch, to begin with, I wouldn’t stick to a job that requires changing diapers, reading a story, playing hot potato, singing ABCs, and potty training (oh it’s my favorite!). I have been in Primrose for almost 4 months now and although it sucks the patience out of my system, I still kick ass whenever I tell my friends that I am a teacher while being a student.

PS.
I know the NBA tickets were supposed to be the boys' presents only, but my birthday was around the corner too that I just had to give myself a good view of Dirk Nowitzki too. [My mother thinks he’s hot, I’d like to prove otherwise. But he’s a good baller. Very good.]

Just so you know...

2007-12-24T09:30:00.000-08:00

I haven't forgotten about you. In fact, I have been excessively thinking of ways on how to get back on this thing before it forgets about me. Well. I'm still breathing. Healthy and alive. So the pregnancy and death rumors are now safely bound to trash. Ok, I totally made that up. But my excuse is absolutely valid. I now have a job (that I dangerously enjoy), I underwent major full-time-student-ness (by taking 18 credits at once!!), and I insanely morphed both activities and inserted them into my daily lifestyle. Hence the lack of social life. Even this virtual social life.

But I'm back. For good, as I pray. I finally managed to buy a new laptop to take with me wherever winds lead me and that shall help me update this thing in a regular manner as I used to. And before I go any further, I just want to make my apologies. I know it's not a big deal for most of you, but true friends have contacted me over time, and I truly appreciate the thoughts and wishes. You guys rock my face off.

Since the last time we've talked, many things have changed. I have been a success story for the most part, although finding the right job for me became such a task. Mind you, I have had three jobs since my two-week stint at Carino's. I accepted a sales job at my college's bookstore during the remainder of that summer, and while it was convenient to work at a familiar setting, the load of work plus the very unsatisfying pay just couldn't cut it for me. Can you imagine me stacking bottles of Pepsi products on three different refrigerators on a regular basis? I didn't think so. But I was bored, fat, and broke that I stuck through it for four desperate months. During those four months too, I was hired by Kohl's as an associate for the Junior's department. Whoever said working in retail was the easiest job on earth, must be seriously decapitated.

So after merely three paychecks, I quit. Both jobs. But hey, at least I experienced something I've always wanted to do... work two jobs at one time. Looks like I may never try the adventure again. Then enter this teaching job in my neighborhood of Valley Ranch. First of all, I had no idea why on earth I decided to apply for it. Because one, I have no teaching degree, and two, kids and I aren't always the perfect pair. But I thought it would never really hurt me to try, so I did. The same week of my interview, I was also offered a job at an Irving library for an assistant position which pays no less than $13/hr. I was appalled at myself for rejecting that. Who wouldn't be when I could guiltlessly buy a Gucci with a whopping paycheck? (note: I don't pay no bills.) But anyhow, I made a rather selfless decision to work with nrkids that pays a few dollars less of what I could have gotten as a librarian. After all, kids and I started to click like macaroni and cheese.

I'll tell you more about this one in the future. I just wanted to update you about the basics of my life. Like losing quite a few pounds, spending most of my time either at work or inside my car (I can now drive on freeways!! WORD.), and still not having a lovelife (which I'm actually thankful for). How about you? Have you missed me? Did I miss anything out here? I know I missed Kat's pregnancy announcement (Congrats, Katkat!) and Alternati's website warming, but is there anything else? Fill me in.

With that, I leave you with warm Christmas wishes. I hope you enjoy the holiday, I know I will.

Told you. Tennis isn't sopoforic.

2007-07-09T21:33:00.000-07:00

This palpable void in Roger Federer's resumé is temporarily eclipsed as he marches his way back to the GOAT (greatest of all time—I know, awful abbreviation) conversations. Fifth set, one all, 15-40. I grabbed the rosary randomly sitting beside me, gripped onto it, and started muttering invented prayers to help this forthcoming miracle surface before my eyes. Two smart serves, they were gone. Fifth set, two all, 15-40. I grabbed the prayer book randomly sitting beside me, gripped onto it, and started skimming the pages to look for a suitable prayer for one Spanish David to beat his Swiss Goliath. But forced prayers don't work all the time. The Mighty Fed reemerged and those chances never visited again.

Very stylish, Roger. But it's not the smartest idea to walk after your geared up opponent.

But what a match!! Unquestionably, an instant classic. So instant that it was on ESPN Classic just nearly 36 hours after its completion! What's more interesting about this match, or this rivalry, is the discernible contrast between the two. Roger came out in archaic fashion while Rafa paraded his bicep-bearing dernier cri. Each has his own homecourt; Paris' red clay for the Spaniard, green grass of London for the Swiss. On court, Rafa habitually roars and motions an uppercut with a loud "si" (yes!) or "vamos" (come on!) after each intense rally. While Federer, five years senior of his rival, is counted to be the coolest-headed competitor there is in sports—which is why his verbal discharge yesterday over technology was pretty disconcerting. The match not only had a decent share of drama but it also showcased the best tennis these two played from any of their collection of grand slam confrontations. It's just borderline disappointing that Rafa had to ultimately appear fatigued after hauling Federer to a fifth set. Nevertheless, another remarkable encounter between these two, and I can't be anymore lucky to witness one of the most astounding matches Wimbledon has ever staged.

Congrats to TMF for completing the Borg chase, and hats off to Nadal for fronting an almost shatterproof challenge against the world's greatest player. I hope the loss doesn't dislodge Rafa's focus because with all the ruckus he endured for the past two weeks, this tournament deservingly belonged to him as much as it did Federer. Now that inevitable question arises again... Will Rafa win Wimbledon before Roger wins Roland Garros? I certainly don't have the analytical percipience of Bud Collins, but after what Nadal has shown on Centre Court yesterday, it's almost a coarse disrespect to say he won't. Because if he almost toppled Fed's chances of winning while having to play for the seventh consecutive day and with a nagging knee injury, then one could only foresee his superiority if he competed as healthy and as well-rested as Federer was. Even Roger agrees and I quote, "I think he deserves a title here." But don't get it twisted. While I'm all for Rafalito winning Wimbledon one day, my hopes of a grand slam for The Mighty Fed—although I'm already getting satiated by his consistency in finals—is still very much incontrovertible. Will he win the biggie on clay before Rafa mows his ass on grass? Let's just say, yesterday's probability is now quite unlikely.

Great rivalries include inimitable streaks, golden memorabilias, and very tight manhugs.
Now we're off to the North American hardcourts where Rafa suffers the most. But with his exorbitant display on grass this year, especially at yesterday's final, he is not that far from being in the ranks of potential Feder-threats for the US Open crown. If a player of Andy Roddick's caliber—which isn't really saying much—can strip a set off Federer in the finals, then Nadal's flaws shouldn't be that badly exposed. As an obsessive tennis fan, I adore both Nadal and Federer, and there's nothing more gratifying than for this rivalry to produce more of these nail-biting, spine-tingling, and mind-blowing matches in future times. It's just sad that I'm redundantly pouring my heart out to this very same topic and you, my beautiful friends, are still not into it!! I'm telling you. Jump in before it's too late! Look at me, I'm witnessing history here!! Plus, with all the bonus yummy guys out there everyday.. Ugh, trust me.. You'll thank me later.

Indy Shebang..

2007-07-05T14:14:00.000-07:00

So yesterday was supposed to be this country's anniversary of independence. Forget about what they celebrate, I'm just all about the food and the Kobayashi vs. Chestnut showdown! This time last year, I was busy photographing middle-aged nurses who are having a great time in the kitchen with an array of Filipino dishes on the table and loadsome of BBQs to chow down, while the youngsters (and I mean, those bratty little kids) enjoy our backyard pool despite the uncooperative weather. While this year, I found myself alone in the kitchen frying sausages with our cable provider anti-festively cutting the connection (thence, no hotdog eating contest telecast for me). And the worst part? The sun was shining bright outside and rain forecasts were uncharacteristically set aside.

Trust me, those tasted good! After all, they should me smoked, right? LOL.
Pardon my ~~cooking~~ frying skills, or lack thereof. That's one of the main reasons why I stopped pursuing being the next Paula Dean. But anyway, after that meaty breakfast that my mother and brother later feasted on, I was left with nothing but the internet, obsessive video-uploading at Multiply, and the crappy TV antenna to entertain myself with. I couldn't cook up an appetite to make more BBQ'd stuff just to make the day worthwhile, so I just spent the rest of my day chatting up with old friends from the Philippines.

This made me realize how ridiculous I am when I, a Filipino, forgot about my very own independence day a month ago. So with that, I want to segway to Alternati's question #4 in my "Interview Me" post (below). I was being vague for the only reason that there's just a bundle of things I miss about home that I wouldn't have enough space and energy to list them all for you. But since I now feel like I owe Mother Philippines an apology, here's a special 10 things edition about what I truly miss about my native.

1. My friends.
Because it totally sucks how half of my social life now tends to revolve around Friendster.

2. The village bakeries and "sari-sari" stores.
Here, whenever we run out of eggs, we always have to waste about ten drops of gasoline just to get to Kroger or Tom Thumb. Whereas back home, there's always Manang Rose's mini mart to buy or even utang eggs, salt, rice, etc.

3. Taho, halo-halo and sago't gulaman stands.
Diane and I, back in our childhood, would always call each other whenever we feel like buying taho (even during the hot summer) or going to this little burger joint by the church. And it was not just another burger stand, it probably had one of the best burgers I've ever had, plus, they also had halo-halo and sago't gulaman. While here? You can only get halo-halo from Chowking which is about 3-4 states away from here, and hamburgers, though generally cheap, are (per my brother) like heart attack on a platter. :))

4. The summer leagues.
My subdivision had a lame summer league—although John and Camille Prats (you know, those kids from Ang TV!) became regulars there over the years. I always hopped to the next village because that's where my friends were and the cutest guys played. Trust me, there's never a better place to catch the hottest sweating guy than on the courts. Y'all know that.

5. The party scene.
What I like best about the party scene back home is that it's waaaay more subtle than the wild stuff here in America. In Manila, it's normal to have a good time without having to shove one maniac's face to the bouncer because of excessive flirtation. Here? It's not an ordinary night without some horny guy feeling you up like he's never touched a woman in his life!!

6. Divisoria/Tiangge
The place for the cheapest dasters on earth!! And yes.. I wear dasters.

7. Bubble Gang
For some reason, I absolutely enjoyed that show. Especially Michael V.. Haha, I adoooore him!

8. Tagaytay and Baguio.
Tagaytay and Baguio both have the temperature I want for my wedding. Not too hot, not too cold. In Dallas, you get the best of winter and summer that you can barely feel any difference during spring and fall!

9. Tropical Hut Hamburger
Why the hell you never established a branch in America?? Are you blacklisted or something??

10. And lastly, cursing in Tagalog.
I don't get to do that anymore because I only get to utilize my native tongue when I'm at home. I mean, you just have to conceal the foulmouth when you're around the family, right? So just imagine how often I want to pull the malutong na P.I.M. whenever I encounter some bitch around here. Like, seriously. A bitch, go to hell, or fuck you is never more hurtful than that or a gago or tarando. Am I right, Talamasca? :-P

So there.. I've paid my dues. And if that's not enough, my family finally got The Filipino Channel, and I'm afraid, I might be hearing more of Kris Aquino now than ever before. Punyeta!

People, I am alive.

2007-06-30T15:30:00.000-07:00

As an obsessed blogger... don't you just find it extremely annoying when you feel like you have a lot of things to write about and yet you couldn't figure out a way to convey it, much less, find not one second to start on it? I know. Hiatuses are lame. And I'm pathetic. But trust me, the reasons are valid, and no, it does not include another vaginal hemorrhage.

Who knew Humanities or Fine Arts Appreciation can make up so much of my time that I would even dare to forget about blogging? I had to visit the Dallas Arts Museum twice, listen to some Jazz music while excruciatingly resisting sleepiness, compare Ethan Hawke's modern take on Hamlet against Mel Gibson's (duh, no brainer!), AND watch Troy.. Troy, of all movies on earth!! Thank God, Brad Pitt was butt naked there a couple of times or I would have strangled my professor to death for putting me through all these torture. But fear not, 'cause the end of this treacherous course is drawing near and I simply can't wait.

Now, since I know I've left you hanging for quite sometime, how about some surveys to lighten you up? Oh come on, don't act like you don't want it.

10 things I want to do before I die

"Steer clear from the sappy and redundant. " from Vayie.

1. Visit Mindanao. Just for the heck of it.
2. Go on a safari in South Africa with my loudest friend, Michelle.
3. Try out for The Price Is Right, granted it goes on.
4. I wanna give birth, although that remains debatable.
5. Watch a huge sporting event that does that traditional (and idiotic) Mexican wave.
6. Get a Master's degree from a Top 10 university. See? I also have dreams!
7. Be a vegan... or at least, try.
8. Party in Croatia with one of my closest girlfriends, Petra.
9. Spend New Year's in Times Square. And yesss, even do the lame countdown.
10. Be awarded for something. Whatever that earns me a gold statuette.

"Interview me"

Grilling courtesy of Alternati.

1. If you were stranded in a desert island and were only allowed to bring one friend, one movie, one picture of an athlete, one DVD set of one season of one TV show, one hair/skin product and an eternal supply of one brand of chocolate... What would you bring and why? (Yes, the island has a working home theater and a fridge. hah!)
I will bring the only person I never have awkward moments with, and the one person I can count on whenever I'm starving: my brother. His kitchen skills are out of this world that I'm pretty confident that if we ever get deserted somewhere the aliens only know, he would sharply find a way to make a monkey's ass taste like the traditional beef stew. Plus, we have our own language (aka very twisted humor) that we'd be perfect for that major psycho-bonding. ... Movie? Dang, there's a lot of choices! But I think I'll go with Pulp Fiction. It's one of those movies I can never get tired of watching, and it's got that perfect Quentin combination of bloody action and sadistic comedy. Exactly what I need to scare off potential conquerors. ... As for the picture, which is a random stuff to bring in an island, haha, I guess I'll go with Tommy Robredo's backhand (click at your own risk). Mainly because that shot's hotness longevity can definitely withstand an extended stay in that island. ... I really wanted to go for Grey's Anatomy on the next one, but I'm afraid I might end up sucking my head in a puke bag just in case I ran out of tears to cry. So let's just bring Project Runway's Season Two. Santino Rice is just CLASSIC! ... And as for the beauty product, I assume sunscreen is the most sensible choice. 'Cause if I'm going to die in an island, I and my skin deserve to die beautifully. Am I right, ladies? ... Lastly, I'd love to have a lifetime supply of Twix. It's not necessarily my favorite, but it's actually not too sweet, and I easily get tired of sweet things (and that include boyfriends).

2. If you could have dinner with any four notable personalities in the world (two living and two who have bitten the dust) , who would they be, what would you guys eat and what would y'all talk about?
I would bring Nancy Grace, Mark Cuban, Lady Diana, and Eddie Guerrero to The Riverwalk in San Antonio, TX where we'll enjoy a few beers and the best beef briskets this state has to offer. We would be gleefully chatting about President Bush, Wimbledon's two-man show, The Great Khali, how boring the Spurs are, and a lot more. I would specifically interrogate them with questions that still hover my head up to this point. Such as Lady D's intuition of Prince Charles' infidelity, Cuban's disinterest in Steve Nash, Eddie's true feelings about a particular controversial storyline, and Nancy Grace's secret marriage and pregnancy (because she's a verbal monster, and I can't believe somebody dared to marry her).

3. What do you miss most, and least about the Philippines?
Ugh, there's A TON!! But to crop it to the obvious... I miss the food. I don't miss the traffic.

4. Describe in detail your ideal job. (The laws of logic, economy and physics can be disregarded in answering this question... :P )
Believe it or not, I want to work a 9-5 job. Sitting on a desk infront of the computer, with a colorful corkboard, pictures of my dogs/friends/etc., a cup of latte every 30 minutes, gossiping from neighborhood cubicles, and a workplace that doesn't require sweating. That's pretty much ideal to me. But working on field wouldn't be that bad either, especially if it allows me to snuggle with the cutest athletes, celebrities, starlets in the world.

5. How many Kai(s) does it take to screw in a light bulb?
Let's see... One to do the screwing, one to assist me with the screws, another one to hold the ladder for stability, and three more to stand by the side, with their arms folded, eyebrows raised, and furiously envying my big butt that I can not lie. :))

Now, now... if you want to get your own butt on the hot seat...

Leave me a comment saying “Interview me.” (And leave your email.)
I will respond by emailing you five questions. I get to pick the questions.
You will update your blog with the answers to the questions.
You will include this explanation and an offer to interview someone else in the same post.
When others comment asking to be interviewed, you will ask them five questions.

HAH, I'm done!!! YESSS! Haha, I know, it's incredibly ludicrous how updating my own blog now takes an enormous type of time and effort. But I promise, we will go back to the way we were. Until next time, my friends. Enjoy the weekend!

My poppa so fly...

2007-06-16T22:28:00.000-07:00

...he doesn't care if we call him Jimmy Santos.
...he confidently believes that he resembles Christopher de Leon instead.
...he doesn't complain when it comes to food.
...he never complains when it comes to alcohol.
...he doesn't mind going to the grocery only to buy his daughter tampons.
...he can't go a day without telling a joke -- no matter how corny it is.
...he repeatedly does a butt flop when he uses the swimming pool.
...he repeatedly causes our backyard a tsunami.
...he calls himself DOTC; as in driver of the century.
...he's as addicted to basketball and tennis as we are.
...he oftentimes shoots an airball even on the freebie line.
...he doesn't care about my obsession over Rafael Nadal.
...he is just as obsessed with Matlock.
...he can't get enough of game shows.
...he worships our cable provider for having The Gameshow Network.
...he even TIVOs The Price Is Right and Jeopardy on a daily basis.
...he still lets me sleep with him when ghost images hover my sleep.
...he snores like hell, which is the best medium of shooing bad spirits.
...he's addicted to chocolates, cookies and polvoron.
...he hates sour food, super cold weather, and the Phoenix Suns.

My poppa so fly, he also once murdered my haircut. :))

Oh Paris!

2007-06-11T18:58:00.000-07:00

It's on newspapers, television, numerous blogs, and even on SportsCenter. This whole Paris Hilton debacle is slowly getting out of hand that I just had to jump in the bandwagon before it dies down. After all, I'm her very own opinionated antagonist. But surprisingly, I'm singing a totally different tune with this one. Paris, as annoying as she has been for the past few years, has done nothing more than to pose without her draws on, and entertain us unfailingly with her dumb anecdotes. She might have been overdosing on alcohol, but not on drugs. She probably has had more boyfriends than the whole Barbados, but she's never had fatal sickness that resulted from unsafe sex. She couldn't have been anymore stupid with her every maneuver, but honestly, she's also never been too outspoken to disparage people underneath her celebrity (ie, you and me).

In other words, Paris has earned my sympathy. I might have, for one second, rejoiced when she was sentenced to jail time, but those tears of hers that were flowing like days-kept pee were agreeably sincere that it's now difficult to turn a blind eye on a woman who feels like morphing into Mother Theresa character all of a sudden. I'm serious, folks. I now firmly believe that Paris Hilton meant it when she said she won't "act dumb" any longer, AND that she "would like to make a difference." I know, it sounds like she's attempting to be Bono or Madonna. But I'm banking on a difference that would teach younger girls that exercising the use of bras and panties is healthy for the nipples and vagina. Ehh, you know what I mean.

Onto Paris, France where the impending GOAT in Federer, once again, failed to show up in another Roland Garros final against the relentless (yet uuuuber gorgeous) Rafael Nadal. I just can't seem to swallow the fact that only three weeks ago, I was shaking my head in complete disbelief while Rafa was losing a third set to Mighty Fed at love (zero). From then on, I was led to the popular myth that this could be TMF's time to shine. That he could finally be the star of all seasons. But I was, then again, proven wrong.

Honestly, Rafa played phenomenally, hence Mighty Fed's still existent consternation over this dolorous puzzle Nadal has trapped him in. As Pardon The Interruption's Mike Wilbon summed up best, "Can you be called the greatest player if another guy owns your butt? -- He owns him!" Ouch! We can make up all the arguments we want to set against that quote, but the fact that Rafa DOES own Fed on clay (and at a particular grand slam, no less) is a firm justification as to why Federer, at this point, doesn't deserve to be mentioned in the same breath as the Lavers and the Borgs. But unlike those journalists who quickly flip and flop, I digressively don't harbor any pessimism against the poor guy. Yes, Rafa deserved the win (by a landslide!) and that spot in tennis greats history but Fed is still the world's #1, something Nadal is not (yet) and I still consider the possibility of him, even an old hag, capturing that trophy his arch-rival has sank his teeth on for the past three years. If a hairless Andre Agassi did it at 29, then so can he.

And since we're talking about the French... Didn't you just cringe in excessive irate when ABC couldn't refrain from focusing on Eva Longoria's face every chance they got? My professor even had to point that out! Well, he wasn't nearly as enthused by the Spurs' annihilation of the Cavs, he only wanted to see Tony Parker (for some odd reason I don't want to cognize). But I digress.. He also mentioned another Tony he was fond of watching on a Sunday night. We discussed the atypical series finale of The Sopranos and how it resembled usual endings on other mediums of artwork. He's a theater geek, of course he easily appreciated it. I happen to not have watched this series, but I'm very critical of story endings, and this one, I didn't like. I frankly told him, "...it was like requesting a chef-made salad in a fancy restaurant yet being directed to the salad bar."

His geekiness somehow agreed but thwarted it in his favor by saying that it's fascinating how it's entirely open for different interpretations. While that must be arousing to another type of thinker, my inner PMS-ish bitch just couldn't help but murder his analogy at the back of my head. But instead, I politely replied, "But don't you think that this kind of denouement only works in movies? Because it's only like, 90 minutes long? This series has been running for YEARS! Wouldn't it just make sense that the writers could utilize more of their ideas and convey it through a nice little ending, instead of a family dinner fading to black??" And boom.. I think I just got a C in participation. I may differ with your perception of this ambiguous scenario -- heck, I don't even know much about David Chase and his geniuses -- but I would be screamingly furious if Grey's Anatomy, God forbid, feebly concludes the show just like that. Simply put, it's like being dumped by your boyfriend of 8 years with no apparent reason and you're forced to figure out who, what, how, and why.

And just so you know, in the battle of Tonys at primetime, I watched The Tony Awards. I know, I'm so gay. :-P

10 reasons...

2007-06-09T11:54:00.000-07:00

...why I quit my job.

1. I tried serving water once and the humongous glasses almost escaped my fat little hands. 2. Wearing all black from head to toe, especially during Summer, is just completely out of this world. 3. Free food at work is not the greatest idea on earth. No wonder we all looked like twins. 4. I'm currently studying about Francois Boucher, Dorothea Lange, Francisco Goya, Andy Warhol, and Jacques Louis David (people I've NEVER even heard of in my life!!) that there's not much enough space in my already smart-stuffed brains for the different types of cheeses in their variety of pasta dishes. 5. Loud Mexican music in the kitchen is like juicing lemon on a busted wound. 6. A pathetic wage of less than $3/hr is not even enough fill out a 70s car gas tank. 7. Befriending the legacy of Van Gogh, Mozart and Beethoven are so much more important for my future career than making love with lenguinis, raviolis, and rigatonis on a daily basis. 8. I'd rather watch paint dry than to witness every single table luxuriating in their respective dishes. 9. Spontaneous ESPN tv at the bar area will get me fired eventually, anyway. 10. Target pays double the hourly rate of what I was gonna get. If that's not reason enough to quit, then I don't know what is. Bottomline, job this normal is NOT for me. Period.

...why tomorrow's showdown will be an epic.

Besides these delirious attempts at singing which are already YouTube favorites.
1. Roger Federer is closing in on becoming the GOAT (greatest of all time). 2. Rafael Nadal is also gunning to become the greatest clay court player of men's tennis history. 3. Fans have voted Rafa to be the better dancer, now it's time to prove who's the better player on dirt. 4. They're lovers off the court. 5. Whoever wins will cry during presentation. I'm stacking more votes for Federer on this one. 6. Mary Carillo is color-commentating, alongside John McEnroe. You cannot be serious! 7. Rafael Nadal has been scary good at the French. (He's literally unbeatable here, for Pete's sake!!) It will be the match of Fed's life to finally get his stamp on Roland Garros, and more importantly, beat Rafael Nadal for the first time on the Parisian clay. 8. Rafa, on the other hand, should use Fed's recent sluggish performances to his advantage. If he wins, not only he gets to be in the record books, he would also help tennis get back to mainstream popularity. 9. The French Open is Nadal's as to Wimbledon is Federer's. This is his house and Rafa will do everything to barricade those come-ons if he wants a three-peat. 10. And as for Roger, it's practically now or never.

...why you shouldn't worry about me.

1. I'm getting a new job somewhere here in Valley Ranch, and I'm not homeless yet. 2. The pool is clean and working, that should help me shed those pounds I gained from eating too much of those free Italian nachos. 3. Remember that job at the psycho ward with Rue? 4. This is random but The Sopranos ends tomorrow, about the same time as Game 3. What are you watching? 5. I'm buying tons of cucumber tomorrow to erase those ugly dark circles around my eyes. 6. There are three cute guys in my class, that's why I refused to ditch it when Carino's subtlety let me choose between work and school. Only an idiot would take that job over an easy class, with eyecandies in tow. :)) 7. Wimbledon is on is two weeks. That will surely keep me and my hormones busy. 8. My mom was actually the one who persuaded me to quit. 9. Which means, she's still totally fine with me being a pain in her ass. 10. But I'm sticking to my agenda. After fixing my license, I'll be working some place else where there's flexible schedules and no free food.

Have an awesome weekend.

Randomgasms.

2007-06-03T20:12:00.000-07:00

I'm in no mood to blog but I might fail to do so in the succeeding days due to a jampacked schedule. But as wise men say, there's no harm in trying. Hence, this pitiful attempt of catering you an entertaining update.

1) As you know, I started my first official job over the weekend. Just when I thought I wasn't gonna complain about anything, here I am again, bitching to a friend of mine, about how small my eventual hourly rate is. My jaws dropped trillions of feet somewhere near jilted planet Pluto the very second I heard that the fat check I'm ever anticipating will only exist IF Mark Cuban decided to dine in and I got to serve him. Or someone else's billionaire character wouldn't mind throwing a big fat tip in exchange of friend mozarella sticks. Otherwise, I will be stuck with such a pathetic pay that could barely supply a car with gas.

The shit to memorize. How much are we getting paid again?

Or maybe I'm just thinking way too much (like I always do). Olivia convinces me that the pay wouldn't really be that bad since we'd be serving an average of 10 tables per hour. But what if I'm in the worst of days and nobody on those 10 tables spares me a single cent? I'm done? I get nothing? Nil? Nada? Zilch? I mean, it's unfathomable to me how someone can be so satisfied by working while only relying on occasional philanthropic aftermaths. I should know, I'm a customer who heartlessly disregards the tipping arena! But I'm giving Olivia a chance to materialize her theory. I will stay, enjoy the free/discounted meals and patiently try it out. But if things don't go my way, like they all should be, I'm quitting. Just like that. *snaps*

2) That film class I told you about was unfortunately snubbed by the students that they had to cancel it. They transfered me to another Humanities course just with a different specialization. Now I have to put up with a professor whose name I can't even pronounce and a class that will talk about Mozart, Houdini, the teenage mutant ninja turtles, and everyone else in between. Oh yay, fun! :-l

3) The junk is the lone American left in the French Open singles draw (men and women). She will be facing the two-time defending champion next so I'm not entirely confident that she wouldn't be the latest casualty to this national embarrassment from Paris. But who even cares about the French Open now? Nadal turned 21 today, he's finally legal, and we can already wed anywhere in the world! Yeee. Feliz Compleanos, Rafa! Te Quiero, whatever the hell that means. :-D

How can you not love? And cream? Ok, that's gross. But seriously! :-))
4) My schedule is inconveniently indefinite at this point. All I know is that I go to school for two hours, 4 days a week and I go to work for another 2-4 hours around dinner time. I have yet to schedule classes for driving (conquering freeway phobia 101) so this Tony guy called up to apparently ask when would be the best time to start the therapy. I could barely understand a word he's saying (he has a thick Indian accent) so I passed the phone to my mother who's seemingly BFFs with those people already. Since my schedule is pretty disoriented at this point, I could only take classes in the morning except this coming Tuesday. I clearly told her that, yet I still got yelled at. I supposedly "made her look like an idiot." I really didn't get that at all.

5) I didn't wanna get into a screamfest with her again so I just quickly left and shut my door. I have been through enough tears the past couple of days that I won't waste anymore Kleenex sobbing over this unworthy fight. I'm an extraordinarily irregular bleeding woman, which explains the seldom visit of that bestial torture. But when it rains, it POURS! (Warning: TMI ahead) I never use tampons, so obviously there's only a slight margin of time in between changes using pads (with wings). I had to call my father who's at work and ask him to buy me a new pack on his way home because I was padding the frantic passage every two hours and I'm running out of clogs!! I hate to ask my father to do things like that for me, but that's the same reason why he's the best father in the whole world! (He got me the maxi, with wings, and some bonus Midol. Now tell me, you'd kill for a father like that!) And as for my mother? She kind of lightened my condition with that disposable hot pack, but after that, I got nothing else. Plus, I should have been the one congested with PMS, not her!! Anyway, after three years of constantly living together, I've finally gotten used to moms. And they will always be moms. They're cursing at you one second, and they'll be shopping shoes for you the next.

6) Is it only me or The Finals suddenly became interesting? The Spurs are gonna win it, that's basic math. But I won't write the Cavs off just like I did to Miami a year ago. (Because that ate me up. Real bad) LeBron is proably one of the most overrated superstars this league has produced in years, but there's no question that his dignified All-Star doesn't deserve any doubt from anyone... for now, at least. I'll be surprised if they go out in a sweep, but I won't be shocked if Manu Ginobli, like the goregeous killer that he is, circusses his way around King James. Now we've got ourselves a show! Spurs in, well, 6.

7) But even if I'm whining about work, school, and my period, I'm nonetheless excited about the busier days ahead. Exactly a year ago, I was enjoying the pool, grilling something bacon-wrapped, and fattening my already fat ass on the kitchen couch. And look at me now? 15 pounds lighter, in school, with a job, and a heckling schedule ahead. Trust me, I really do hate it when I hear myself complaining, that it's even crazy when I tend to imagine that it could possibly be genetic. I know, that's just me, being awesome at excuses. So, to prevent another run at 'Randomgasms' stacked with complaints, I'll be working on a list of mid-year resolutions. I have jotted a few things down, bitching included, but I have yet to figure out what else negative is there for me to eliminate. Narcissism, perhaps? Help me out. It's your only chance. ;-)

Departure from Joblesslandia

2007-06-01T20:49:00.000-07:00

It might be too early to celebrate since I haven't even began orientation yet.. but heck, who even cares. I now have a job!!! *happy happy joy joy* Ok, it wasn't easy getting one. Even a normal job. I went from Career Builder to Snag-a-job only to find myself surfing around the infamous Craigslist (yes, I was that hopeless) to find something to do during the summer, and at the same time, earn some greens to feed my luxurious needs.

I emailed that dude who posted the ad, Carino's was in need of hosts, servers & bartenders. I told myself before that I will never work in a bar/restaurant, especially of this class, because 1) my clumsy level is fire-worthy, 2) it'd be embarrassing to see friends and classmates while I work, and 3) they FEED employees for FREE! The latter was reason enough for me to hesitate because Italian food (and margaritas, hello?) is evil and I don't wanna get any fatter. But in desperation times like these -- when I'm in the middle of pursuing a degree, in perfect age to finally finance my caprice, and in total shame for still being under my parents' supervision -- I should not complain, nor resist any money-making machine that shall come my way. Especially when my eventual employer kindly admits my no-experience, no-resume plea.

Shouldn't there be bonuses for online promotion? :)) [photo credit: scladesma]
So I came in, dressed in my usual preppy Sunday self, met the mister I emailed, and started the whole applying process. I've never been in this kind of position before, so you can only imagine the monstrous butterflies that were uncontrollably going bonkers in my stomach. The place was really cozy, so it allowed me to at least settle in. I filled up their form, took the personality test, then talked to another dude, which I later discovered as an actual first interview. It was sort of like a first date; awkward, semi-formal, and a LOT of smiles. At one point, I totally forgot that I wasn't in the middle of a first date that I had to stop my babbling (I tend to do that when I'm already comfortable, which is a no-no on first dates, much less, first job interviews). He was cool though, very accommodating and cute even. Oh gosh, rule number one: NO crushes at work. Thou shalt not. And can I just say, he was Polish. Eeek! Ok, I'll stop.

Then he said afterwards that I would have to come back the next day to meet the GM for a second interview. I had absolutely no idea how that would go. He did mention that Ms. *** was a big girl which was indicated to intentionally make me feel less nervous. I was just like, um.. thanks dude.. for implying that I'm f-a-t! But I wasn't gonna give him a smirk, after all, I was on the brink of getting hired.

So I met up with the GM the next afternoon. Yeah, she was big, but she was surprisingly young and perky! Her favorite word? "Awesome" which was.. awesome, hehe. Contrary to the first interview, this one was more of like a sorority initiation. Questions ranged from "What's your major?" to "How do you define teamwork?" And when asked what was my biggest flaw... I replied, "I tend to slow down just a bit when I want tasks to be perfectly executed." As Lauren suggested on The Hills, you gotta get that flaw question in your favor by making it a positive flaw. Who knew I would learn something from watching a crappy MTV reality show? However, slowing down in the restaurant business is a mortal sin. Oh fuck, did I just self-destruct my already impressive way to employment kingdom or what??

One of the reasons why I wanna work is to lose weight.. And they provide dining privileges??
I was detecting skepticism from her because she knew my lifestyle. I'm in my 20s with no previous experience, and a college student who doesn't shoulder a thing. And the fact that I live in Valley Ranch must have concerned her a bit because people in this neighborhood are the ones eating at those fancy places. But I believe I convinced her that this resident is not the d-a-d-d-y kind of girl. I wash the dishes, do the laundry, and iron everyone's clothes (remember?). So she paused, left with my paperwork, and huddled with the other heads. Thank God the bar TV was on with ESPN or I might have flipped in extreme neurasthenia. She came back with a subtle grin, extended her hand and uttered, "Congratulations, welcome to the team!" For a second there, I was uncharacteristically shut as I could only say, "OH MY GOD!" Angels in my head sang in perfect chorus as my perennial blabbermouth started exploding with excessive and sometimes unnecessary thanks. She was delighted, I was ecstatic! I am finally employed!

This is a normal job. So normal that my mother could probably even hire a cook from that restaurant for her own household. But, as I always told my friends, that's my mom (and dad), that's not me. They earn more than enough, I don't possess anything. I'm way beyond the age of moving out, let alone, having a job, yet I'm still being a torturous pain in their butts. So guess what, I figured it was about time to give back. Maybe not the exact payback I've always wanted to return, but I'm sure paying the cable or internet and my own phone bills (I mean, duh, shouldn't that be #1?) could be a nice start. See? I'm not a bad bad daughter, after all! :-p

Me vs. Blogger

2007-05-29T21:08:00.000-07:00

My month long penpal-ing with Blogger Help.
After all the stops and starts... We keep coming back to these two hearts... Ugh, totally in karaoke mode. But I can't help it! After a month long of absence from Blogger, I found myself in a fortunate position of embracing it all back. Eira, you've been nothing but extremely accommodating when I needed a place to lament, and I can't thank you enough. But just as I was already enjoying my status as a sassy chique, Blogger retrieves my old blog (this one), not to mention, on the perfect time when Eira's site temporarily shut down. It's no secret that Blogger and I aren't always in perfect unison, hence the frequent change of addresses, but all I really need is a blog. I don't need the extra stuff that a website, like Eira's, offers, and although I really liked it, I feel like the space I occupied was partly to blame for her site's sudden dysfunction. I apologize if my abrupt invasion caused it, but it's been such a delightful stay, and I will continue to be a sassy chique, even only in spirit. :-)

Holyshit! Holyshit!

That's the never-ending chant of wrestling fans when a grappler successfully executes a death-defying stunt. Who would have thought that the inner wrestling fan in me would be chanting 'Holyshit! Holyshit!', with the rhythmic right fist up in the air, whilst watching daytime television??

See for yourselves. And yes, it was LIVE. And in the morning. Catfight!!!
Alright, kidding aside. I'm not American, and eventhough I've been living here for quite sometime now, I honestly could care less about President Bush and his shenanigans. Of course, I don't like the idea of troops still dehydrating in Iraq, I'm pissed that New Orleans still looks like shit, and that my ancestral home, the Philippines, would have to abide this country's needs in times of war. Regardless, I'm not one who'd go out, most especially on national television, declaring my profound hatred on Bush's mistaken decisions. Because in my opinion (I repeat, MY opinion), Gloria Macapagal Arroyo -- as dwarfish as she may appear -- is far worse. Plus, there are countless problems in the world that we, civilians, have to take more care of. Like say, Lindsay Lohan and global warming.

But seriously, the world has enough problems for these two cockfighting bitches -- from the loudest TV show on earth, no less -- to overtake the news and our daily watercooler chatter. Nevertheless, it was strikingly entertaining.

Dear Mighty Fed,

"If I have to lose to someone again... he's the man" - Nadal. Oh, you're in his head, Rogelio!
We counted years until Rafael Nadal's 81-match winning streak concluded, only to be stashed by the same guy he beat more times than anyone on that murder list. And that's you, Roger. You finally broke through by silencing your critics -- and that probably includes the Rafatard in me -- and by beating the one person that has eluded you from winning that glaring void on your already distinguished resume. So Roger, now that you've figured out Rafa and his bicep-bearing greatness, I think it's about time that you confirm to the world that you're indeed the greatest tennis player of all time (or simply, the GOAT). I'm going out on a limb here, because Nadal's my future husband, but I'm rooting for you to win the French not only because you have to, but for my grandma skills too. Seriously, I want to story-tell my grandkids that I lived in the same lifetime (because presumably, you'll die before I do) as you did, and that I've seen you win, lose, eat dirt, and kiss Mirka (which was never a pleasant site, by the way). So Roger, I wish you all the luck in the world, because you're going to need it, and I hope that this time, you won't let me down.

10 babbles about the '07 Miss U.

1. A Nelly Furtado dance number to kick off the show.. How gay.
2. Oh great. Just when I already had enough of Slater.
3. First, his bestfriend teleports. And now Ando's judging Miss Universe? Lucky bastard.
4. Oh my gosh. Brazil is girlcrush!
5. Ms. Photogenic again for Philippines. Wait. From online votes? Haha. Okay. *shuts up*
6. Nicaragua was Jennifer Coolidge 20 years ago. Seriously!
7. Bronze: Carmen Electra, Silver: Rachel Smith, and Gold: Kamilia Wawrzynia.
8. As if falling flat on her butt infront of a worldwide audience wasn't enough, USA gets booed by the merciless Mexican crowd. And they say Chicago has the worst fans ever.
9. I was pissed last year because Japan didn't win it, but now that it did, it kinda bums me out that this less attractive version of Chibana beat out my new girlcrush, Brazil! It only tells you that the panel of judges -- I mean, if you have Dave Navarro judging a prestigious contest, then there must me something wrong -- are easily persuaded by an answer that begins with the likes of "I love dancing."
10. Monday night and I'm watching Miss Universe and Food Network. Oh Heroes, where art thou? :-(

Sanjaya's Swan Song

2007-04-21T08:23:00.000-07:00

For some eccentric reason, I found myself on the verge of tearing up when Seacrest announced Sanjaya's departure from American Idol Wednesday night. Especially with that montage that seemed to have been extracted from this week's SNL. That kid was just... um, special? So special he merited a rare standing ovation from Simon Cowell! I repeat, from Simon Cowell!! I can only count with my five fingers how many contestants got that from him. Seriously. This kid's really something else! I mean, in all of six seasons that I've watched this show, no other popstar wannabe achieved the fame that was amassed by alternating hairstyles. Not discounting the teenage-factor and minority vote. 14-year-olds are crazy about him, proven here, which is somewhat confusing because I've always thought of the kid as a pending closet queen. Not to be sexist or anything, God knows how I LOVE gay people. But you know what I'm saying. Little girls can't be that dumb, worshiping a cute guy (in their eyes, and theirs alone) with exorbitant femininity. But he's gone, and shall never be back. Which caters the golden opportunity for the remaining contestants to play tug-of-war for the fame fondue Sanjaya left over. I mean, seriously. Besides Doolittle, Sanjaya was the only memorable thing from this season. Trust me. Our lives are forever scarred by him, his creepy little grin and that inescapable image of him hula dancing.

Movie Meme

Before I proceed, I just want to explain where the heck my header came from. It's simply a manifestation of my pop culture junkie-ness. A hodgepodge of some of my favorite movies and TV shows, from Santino Rice to Vincent Vega. I really, really wanted to add more but I had to stop myself from transforming it into a 3rd grader art homework. I actually thought I've overdone it, but heck, with all the misfortunes we experience in the world right now, I guess it's only fitting that we see colorful stuff around, including pathetic attempts in photoshop.

Snagged from Alternati. I'm a self-confessed movie buff, so in order to restrain myself by going too hyper about the survey, I'll limit myself to one answer per question. Although that's pain. :( But I won't put you through the spontaneous-blabbing-torture. Here we go...

1. Name a movie that you have seen more than 10 times.
Legally Blonde (2001) - This movie is a comedic display of false stereotypes in the society. When you're blonde, you're presumably dumb. Not in the case of Elle Woods, a perennial valley girl, who pursues Harvard Law School to prove something to her ex-boyfriend. Her mantra may have been far off from the general goal of law students, but ultimately, Elle proves that all Cosmo girls are much smarter than what people think of them. Am I right, ladies? ;)

2. Name a movie that you have seen multiple times in the theater.
Bring It On (2000) - A movie about cheerleading, with all its cattiness, isn't necessarily interesting, but I was a sophomore then, and I was with Michelle (my super girly-girl friend), and theatres in the Philippines allowed us to stay there the whole day. I watched it so many times that I've got the lines jampacked in my head. Until now. Seriously. Quiz me.

3. Name an actor that would make you more inclined to see a movie.
Leonardo DiCarpio. DUH?

4. Name an actor that would make you less likely to see a movie.
Britney Spears, Paris Hilton, and Jessica Simpson. Just stick to junk-exhibitionism, girls.

5. Name a movie that you can and do quote from.

"There's this passage I got memorized. Ezekiel 25:17. 'The path of the righteous man is beset on all sides by the iniquities of the selfish and the tyranny of evil men. Blessed is he who, in the name of charity and good will, shepherds the weak through the valley of the darkness. For he is truly his brother's keeper and the finder of lost children. And I will strike down upon thee with great vengeance and furious anger those who attempt to poison and destroy my brothers. And you will know my name is The Lord when I lay my vengeance upon thee.' I been sayin' that shit for years. And if you heard it, that meant your ass." - Jules, Pulp Fiction, at the diner during robbery session.

6. Name a movie musical that you know all the lyrics to all of the songs.
I'm not a musical geek. I enjoyed Chicago and Dreamgirls, but that's about how far my interest goes. Does Music & Lyrics count though? "I said I wasn't gonna lose my head, but then POP goes my heart... *higher pitch* POP goes my heart..." There y'go.

7. Name a movie that you have been known to sing along with.
Err, I'll just go with A Walk To Remember. They loved Switchfoot there. Quite awesome.

8. Name a movie that you would recommend everyone to see.
Unlike Alternati, I'm going to try to be nice. Watch Wild Hogs! It's freakin' genius!

9. Name a movie that you own.
I think we're stacked. But I have a special documentary film on VHS tape of the Backstreet Boys' world tour in the late 90s. Um, just thought I'd mention it. Potential eBay best-seller in the future.

10. Name an actor that launched his/her entertainment career in another medium but who has surprised you with his/her acting chops.
Ok, I'll diminish the one-answer-only rule on this one, because one spot isn't fair enough... First of all, Tina Fey is an expert at her craft but her acting was positively surprising. I really liked her character in -- not to mention, her masterpiece -- Mean Girls, where she played a newly-divorced Algebra professor. It's one of those unpredictable roles in a film that suddenly bursts as an important piece of the denouement. And yes, gotta love the habitual sarcasm. Secondly, Ludacris's acting in Crash was the most surprising. It was very natural, and so believable that I instantly forgot that he was that rapper second-voicing Usher's "Yeah." And lastly, (and I'm echoing Alternati on this one) Jennifer Hudson. She won an Oscar, duh?

11. Have you ever seen a movie in a drive-in? If so, what?
I would love to, but I don't think they still have those stuff in the metropolitan.

~~12. Ever made out inside a theater?~~

13. Name a movie that you keep meaning to see but just haven't gotten around to it.
For now, there's just one... Blades of Glory. Please come out on DVD already!! :P

14. Ever walked out of a movie?
Yeah. It was that one with Jennifer Lopez. No, not Gigli. The less apalling one. Um, yeah, I think it was Angel Eyes. I believe I walked out forcibly because my friend's boyfriend was already pooping in boredom on the pool table. But that doesn't mean I wanted to stay put either.

15. Name a movie that made you cry in a theater.
The Notebook? Err, so given. Um, United 93? Same thing. How about "Labs Kita, Ok Lang?" Dare tell me you don't know this. Gee, that movie was such a tear-jerker! I can still remember Royce's abrupt clutch to my arm when Jolina's character, Bugoy, was already confessing her feelings for Marvin's Ned on a cold Baguio night. Haaay. Sixth grade memories.

16. What's the last movie you saw in the theater.
Music and Lyrics. Man, I haven't seen a new movie in two months! This is war!

17. What's your favorite/preferred genre of movies.
Comedy, I guess. I dig serious stuff too, as long as they have wit all over them.

18. What's the first movie you remember seeing in the theater.
I was around 6-8 and it was in a movie theater in Cubao. I have vague memories of what exactly the movie was but I'm sure it had Ogie Alcasid and Michael V. in it. :))

19. What movie do you wish you had never seen.
American Dreamz and Wild Hogs.

20. What is the weirdest movie you enjoyed.
Lost In Translation (2003) - Watch this. It's so weird and hilarious, it's almost unforgettable.

21. What is the scariest movie you've seen?
The Eye, bar none. And The Descent was pretty good too.

22. What is the funniest movie you've seen?
I'm not the most sophisticated movie goer, so I'm definitely giving this to the satirical smarts of Borat.

DONE. Relaying this to anyone who have plans of bumming out over the weekend. Enjoy! :-D

Virginia Tech Tragedy

2007-04-18T03:21:00.000-07:00

Taking a breather from the usual witty posts, I would like to collect some thoughts on the most recent newsmaker that disturbed the country, and the world.

I'm pretty sure many of you have been hearing about it. The worst shooting in American history to date, and hopefully, ever. Cho Seung-Hui, a 23 year old English major, shot 33 people -- countless times to death -- including himself. I, personally, don't know what to make out of it. One man, successfully accomplishing an obviously sadistic plan (with suspicious beliefs of his girlfriend supposedly cheating on him) is completely senseless, unfathomable, and heinous.

Event descriptions from different witnesses have been piling up since the massacre, effectively convincing that the suspect had methodically conceptualized this plan for a long time, which includes multiple bomb threats in the same community a couple of weeks ago. According to media reports, the killer may have had something to do with recent bomb threats, presumably testing the University's security system. On Monday morning, he supposedly returned to his dorm residence to reload his weapons after killing two students in the same vicinity. He then proceeded to Norris Hall, chained the doors by himself, and started the shooting spree.

Eversince living here in the United States, I have openly expected a lot more from the governance, considering that the place I came from lacked a whole lot of synchronization. I was not disappointed. Malls are clean, public high schools and community colleges are impressively convenient, Airports and flights are friendly, and driving situations are far less hazardous. But one thing that could possibly prevent brutal attacks like this is an intense security system. I'm not saying that VT security's approach to the situation was any less. It might have been on some others' opinions, but I'm sure they've done their part in the best way they knew how. But on the other hand, I think colleges and universities in this country are very driven to ensue independence on students that liberated security is often tolerated. Just like my college which has its own police station (much like all colleges in this country), but we rarely see officers around campus, not even after the morning traffic. I happen to have spent my first high school years in Lorenzo Ruiz De Manila School, where security is as strict as it gets. There's an armed guard in every building, and IDs are firmly required for everyone who enters and leaves the campus, including transportations. I know, it's a high school, a reasonable proximity to monitor. But we all agree that there's absolutely nothing wrong in being a little bit too cautious, right? Especially in a country that leniently sells guns, and has been attacked by terrorism in the past.

One more thing that seemed absurdly funny to me was the method of communication during that very morning. The warning has been sent through email. Yes, Yahoo!, Google, Hotmail. Through EMAIL. I was shocked, totally perplexed at how dumb some people can get under pressure. My friend Brittany said it best, "Who in the hell checks out their emails at 7:30 in the morning?" and really, what person that practically resides inside the university doesn't have a mobile phone? Is this generation really that idiotic to use email as their form of addressing alarm, instead of an instant phone call, or even text message??

Speaking of text messaging. This may sound ridiculous, but I really think that it's about time 9-1-1 gets the hype of this commodity. A phone call is deeply necessary, but text messaging can be really helpful than it sounds. For instance, there was this girl who survived the second shooting by playing dead. While obviously restraining her nerves by not dialing 9-1-1 during the ordeal, she would have had an easier contact if text messaging was another way of asking help. This is me being humorless, folks. I sincerely think the rescue hotline must consider the text messaging system. Seriously.

What's really uncanny about the chain of events was the fact that the suspect even had enough time to keep himself alive after the first shooting, and with no one calling to the rescue, let alone the police -- who admittedly have heard the gun shots -- ignoring the incident in belief that it was just another one of those domestic fulminations. I, myself, have had enough debates and discussions (especially in my HDEV class) regarding this whole story. A lot of what ifs, could-have-beens, and should-have-beens. But instead of concentrating, and dwelling on what really could have happened, I suggest that the society gradually move on, and on the way, perform drastic changes in our systems to be able to protect ourselves in the future. If America didn't learn enough from the University of Texas massacre in 1966, I think now is the right time to learn something from the Virginia Tech tragedy.

My heart goes out to all the victims, the families affected, and the entire community of Blacksburg.

Rodeo Roadtrip

2007-04-15T19:52:00.000-07:00

Pardon my recurring absence, I certainly don't mean it. In fact, I intended to blog a couple of days ago, but my gang was in a hurry, I had to shut down all machines in my room before leaving. On a random Wednesday evening, my mother suddenly decides she'll call sick and evade to Houston with my dad for his high school reunion. If she'd be eating cookies alone in her hotel room, then I might as well go and provide her some entertainment. So I went straight back home after my HDEV exam, and called in sick myself for my math. Packed, rather excitedly, while I watched Idol's results show (Sanjaya's staying power is something else, man) and headed out not before 3.

Houston wasn't exactly as engaging as I thought it would be. Well, the tough schedule, that prevented us from delving the city, was partly to blame for it. The rest would probably be consisted of their sick freeways, stupid street signs, and perilous construction sites. The city might have lacked appeal to me, but its outskirts were definitely, um, interesting.

It was time to exchange driving duties for the boys, as I volunteered to get us some blizzards and onion rings. DQ was easily spotted from the freeway, in the midst of a town seemingly composed of people severely alienated from the colored world. The old lady looked stunned when I opened my mouth and sounded as if I've been living here as long as she has. She was subtlety hostile. Never smiled, even when she did that wacky thing with the blizzards. She obviously wasn't colorblind. But I quickly disposed the nuisance after enjoying my treat. Thank God she wasn't racist enough to poison us.

So, we checked in, dove in our beds, and watched basketball to sleep. It was such an exhausting trip that we weren't even worried about going elsewhere the following day. But my dad had plans of going to San Antonio the next morning, and we just couldn't resist to convoy. It was yet another road trip. Literally. I probably spent more time sitting on my ass than my entire sojourn down there. I wouldn't complain if the view was anything close to my LA-to-Vegas escapade, but it's remotely not! Especially when I would see a house clad with black and white posters saying "Go Spurs! Go!" every once in two minutes.

As cued by Mark Cuban's past criticisms, I expected The Riverwalk to be similar to the bad area of Manila Bay. You know, that part where entrepreneurs gutted restaurants and grills infront of, while there were vacationing used diapers on the shores, and the water smelling like shit. But to Cuban's rare inaccuracy, Riverwalk wasn't anything like it. Although the water wasn't exactly appealing, at least the smell wasn't puke-worthy enough to drive us out of our Texas-sized appetites.

Apparently, you also have to check out The Alamo if you're a virginal tourist in that part of the state. I wasn't necessarily interested because I think, I've already had enough of stories about Magellan and Lapu-Lapu, that these they-saved-our-nation museums and apologue don't juice anymore interest from me. But it was refreshing to go in there. It was so hot in San Antonio that I wouldn't overlook any chances of getting into cemented buildings. Even if it means locking myself in a room of smelly armpits. Yes, it was that hot.

Some random camwhorage with mother. At the River, and after shopping for fridge magnets.
Then we went home that same day. (Sorry Laureen, I passed by New Braunfels, squealed even "I have a friend living right there," finger pointed at that lone freeway that probably leads to your location, but I didn't have enough time to see you. I'll be back though, and I swear, I'll leave you my number the next time.) We then went to this parochial community headed by my dad's high school professor. It's one of those crowded get-togethers, where there's Wowowee on TV, some dried fish's odor sprinting up your nostrils, and a variety of Filipino dialects in every corner of the place. It was social nightmare to the nth degree!! If it weren't just for my dad, I would totally act like those girls from Sweet 16. Seriously. Who wants to get trapped inside a bungalow, congested by eyebrow-raising Filipinos, all asking you the exact same thing, as if griping you to admit that you're a probinsyana just like they once were. "Do you still speak Te-geh-leg?" I'm so sorry, but that question irritates the fuck out of me. Especially when I came in to that very door greeting everyone in sight with a polite (and required) mano to my forehead (even with no clue wherever that hand may have been!) and "Magandang Gabi Po." And they dare ask me if I still spoke Te-geh-leg? If the function wasn't just facilitated by priests, I would have smacked back with a, "Tangek, Manila girl ako!"

So anyway, that's about it. It still boggles me how updating this blog now takes a lot from my time. Maybe because the semester's drawing to an end (translation: more work than usual), or maybe because the playoffs are here and Rafa's hopefully on his way to another unbeaten clay court season. Hay, there's so much going on that I can't even find time to shave my mustache. Ok, that was a joke. But hey, I hope you guys had a terrific week yourselves. Thanks for still dropping by despite my recent lag in your respective comment boxes. I promise to see you around soon. :)

Comfort while chaperoning, ya dig?

2007-04-09T21:36:00.000-07:00

I hopped inside the car after a meeting with school stuff last week when my brother said mother rang and asked us to go straight to the mall. She has been shopping. My brother, who had no plans of going elsewhere, was only in his pang-bahay hoodie and denim shorts, while I was dressed quite accordingly. He didn't mind driving me all the way downtown Irving, but he was obviously bored and pissy, pacing around the women's area of Macy's. So he dragged my dad to the Food center (as usual) and waited and waited and waited until he finally pulled out his car keys and decided to leave. Which was completely understandable anyway, he wasn't there to buy anything, not even lunch, and was stuck with women who even seem to have not cared as long as they're grabbing stuff with sale tags.

He'll bite me if he sees this. But that's the best father, AND husband in the world.
So I've been thinking... I really think there should be a coffee shop, or a little burger bar inside the shopping stores, and scattered couches everywhere. For one, a lot of women can't brave the freeways of this big city (and many others), that certainly, the men of their lives would have to stick around during discount days. And like they had a choice, right? (I mean, just look at my dad! Poor him.) Secondly, boys will have nothing else to do at home to begin with. Instead of just eating and watching sports all their days off, the little burger bar can even help hone their social skills by chatting it up with other husbands, boyfriends or brothers while waiting. And lastly, for those loyal ones who choose to tag along the women, (carrying the bags, of course) the couches can only make them feel comfortable whenever they may be lead. Again, look at my dad right there. He customized his own little waiting area while my mom's trying out stuff in the fitting room! I really think my ideas are worth some consideration. Like seriously. Shall I pitch 'em? :P

Coldfront tantrums.

2007-04-07T04:22:00.000-07:00

Images supplied by my Weather Channel Desktop. And yes, that's 41 degrees in a Texas spring afternoon.
This is insane. It's April 7th and normally by this time, the pool is already utilized due to burning heat. But instead, we're forced to dig into the deepest corners of our closets to bring out (again!) the supposed-to-be-retired sweaters because it's been freezing the past couple of days. The weather had been consistently lingering around the 60s, 70s and 80s the past couple of weeks, and now we're back to the 50s? Even worse, high today is at 38°F, and guess what, even a possibility of snow later in the afternoon! SNOW! In April?? I know, totally weird. Would make sense if we're in the skinny state of Colorado, but we're just right above Mexico, and we're getting snow in April?? I'd be jumping like a kid right now if it's Christmas season. But it's not. And my brother's driving tonight. It CAN'T snow!!!

American Doolittle

I just found out that I haven't talked about American Idol yet since the first few episodes. That's um, surprising. I would normally talk about it every week, make my silly predictions of who should go home or who would have the worst hairdo (this year, it's a no-brainer, obviously), but since my life has gone back to the colorful side, the blogs on reality TV has been apparently limited. But don't worry, my Miss Page Six persona is back to make a furious plea to Sanjaya's voting demographic... PLEASE, take that *insert offensive term here, I can't curse, it's Holy week* off that show!!! It's excruciating!!! ...err, not really. I'm not bothered anymore by Sanjaya's existence. As long as he doesn't stay longer than my favorites, I could care less.

Who cares if she looks like Shrek?? Pssh. Mean. Pokes head.
There's my girl! Melinda Doolittle, the obvious favorite to win the whole thing (once Sanjaya gets off the show, of course). Big voice, big head (literally speaking), and big boobs. Ok, that sounded lesbian-ish. But heck, what's not to love? She's freakin' awesome!! And hey... do you want to win some dolares? I thought I'd throw in a trivia question for those of you, broke pricks like me. Prize money courtesy of leftover aguinaldo... If you can only tell me the name of this Filipino guy my mother instantly thought of upon seeing Melinda for the first time. Clue. They look alike. Duh?

Normally, the boring days...

With no disrespect, I tend to have found the Holy days of Holy week to be the most boring days of my summer childhood. We were not allowed to come out and play patintero, due to our usual clamour that would disturb the neighborhood vigils, eating meat was also, and still is, a big no-no, and cable TV in our area was not yet in existence, that we had to stomach all the Nora Aunor films Channel 2 could possibly air.

But those days are gone. Capped by the annual marathons of Seventh Heaven on Studio 23 (do they still do that?). Don't get me wrong, the Holy week means a lot to me, my family, and the Roman Catholic tradition. Believe it or not, I have my fair share of prayers, repentance, and mass attendance. But I'm not one of those devotees who sorrowfully commemorate the events that actually led to Christ's sacrifice for mankind. I understand, it's their form of recognizing the holidays, but... Ok, ok, I'm not gonna go on and on about this anymore, since it's pretty sensitive for funky me to discuss (and I don't want bitchfights this time of the year).

And just so you know, I have been penitently observing the no-meat-during-Fridays rule, settling on egg sandwiches (who cares about calories? It's Holy week, magtika kayo!), tuna subs from Subway (now, that's "healthy") and dinaing na bangus (marinated milkfish) from the Asian market... with rice, of course, and vinegar dip with crushed garlic. Ugh, I know, it's a sin to be gluttonous, especially this time of the year. But trust me, the bangus just fits the one-meal-a-day penitence. Promise!

In case I get raped again, let me be early and shove you a Happy Easter greeting. Enjoy :)

Foolish Butt

2007-03-31T21:10:00.001-07:00

I promise I have an excuse for the recent lag. I have been experiencing extreme nausea and inexplicably constant vomitting over the past few days that I had to take further notice than usual.

I went to our physician and she inquired about my personal activities that led to her hypothesis that I might be sporting a bump (the inflating kind) in the near future. I was shocked. Speechless. Knocked out. Totally flabbergasted. How in the world did I get myself pregnant? As I rewind.

I dated this guy for about 8 weeks before the last year ended. It was brief. So brief that I could barely remember his last name. Or if he was the one who had a silver stud down there. (Man, this was supposed to be a serious narration!) But anyway, we broke up sooner than expected, as I quickly reverted back to enjoying my rejuvenated social life. Just days after my birthday, I was set up by a friend with this mesmeric fratboy from Austin, and we clicked right off the bat. He had mad guitar skills, an enticing sense of humor, and was terribly attractive that only an idiot would pass up the chance of sleeping on those provocative biceps of his. And of course, I fell. Orgasmically. Again.

My predicament not only includes the jeopardy of my inheritance ('coz my parents WILL disown me), but as well as the interminable pause of my studies AND... brace yourselves... the real father of this baby. Yes, you heard that right. I have no idea what hestas-judas-barabas fathered my child. I don't even know how to drag them to my front and inform them that either one would be responsible for buying me some milk and diapers. Like I am seriously clueless. As in no clue at all...

This is no laughing matter, but isn't it just ludicrous how I AM now entangled in the exact same situation as those girls on noontime television?? I mean, I would think so low of them before because they would sleep with different men in a short span of time, not being wholly aware of the irresponsible hobby's repercussions, and now I am one of them!!! What the fuck was I thinking?!! Never, in my wildest imagination, have I seen myself pleading for DNA help through Maury Povich, and hearing the dreadful phrase, "You are not the father!" But I'm afraid I'm on the right track. Without a babydaddy, and a face plastered with embarrassment everytime my episode replays.

Man, I need help. And sanity. And sleep. And forgiveness. And laughs. I think I'm celebrating a little too early (as always). It's yet an hour 'til my labor, but I'll start screaming anyway...

Gotcha! :P

A public figure for 3 years.

2007-03-24T11:46:00.000-07:00

It all started when an emotional outburst striked my Saturday night (or was it Friday? Sorry, was bit tipsy) that had me looking over the internet for some outlet of major spasms. I was chatting it up with Jo, extremely spazzed out herself, as we tangoed our way to LiveJournal. The website was having its own periodical distraught that we couldn't stand the labyrinth of signing up, hence we settled for blogdrive. It was my home for the remainder of the year, until I discovered blogspot, through Ate Clare. And here I am. With my 107th URL. But who cares.

For three years I've developed from a lousy fangirl writer to a candid, witty yet very sophisticated (give it to me, it's my anniversary!) blogger that loves to argue and hates to agree. My topics have varied from squealing over some Korean walking chopstick to drooling over one certain bicep-bearing specimen. And much to my surprise, a lot of you have enjoyed my imbecilic writing when you could simply turn away or leave a "fuck off" note in my wisecrack box. So I thank you. From the bottom of my bacon-wrapped heart.

So, let's see... I have nothing else to write actually, but I want to make smart use of this time and space that solely commemorate my three years of presence in this community. And since I can only do this once a year, I think I'm licensed to display the uttermost narcissism, and you will have to put up with it for the rest of your daily Kai-dosage.

On style...
I don't have a style whatsoever. I blog as I talk. And just so you know, I don't have any accent. At all. I talk just like any Midwesterner, but I have tendencies of sounding Southern with the infectious "y'all," and like a valley girl with the use of "like," which I have been emphatically avoiding. I don't talk clearly, as my peers would say, I kind of swallow my words. But they suck ass, 'coz I know I'm a good communicator. Just like Jael from ANTM Cycle 8.

On topics...
As I've said, my topics have varied over the years. There was a time that all I was blogging about was everything Asian. I so got addicted to Meteor Garden and the likes that I would blog about it every single day eventhough I knew that all my readers were watching the exact same thing I just did. Then morphed into the new image of being miss page six, as Kat used to call me. With being sidelined from school, and being jobless, and the lack of interesting events to write about, I settled on TV shows, showbiz gossips, and red carpet fashion to entertain those who continually visit my blog. It was entertaining at one point but I eventually got tired of it. After all, it was always Paris Hilton dominating the news and I hate her, and her skankiness, so I just had to stop before I get a heart attack. And now, this blog has grown into the most impertinent hodgepodge of all. What blogger talks like John McEnroe one day and Joel McHale the next? Only me! :P

On overused words...
It would have to be "I," but that's a given. So I guess it's gotta be "seriously." I had a huge crush on Apolo Anton Ohno two years ago that I subconsciously adapted his overusage of the word, which, I assume, was primarily caused by his personal obsession over McDreamy and Grey's Anatomy.

On blog-linkage...
This might be weird but I prefer asking for link exchanges than being asked. For some reason, I don't find my blog worthy enough of admirers that it irks the heck out of me each time a random passerby asks for an exchange. Not that I mind, I actually greatly appreciate the maneuver. It's just that, I think it's best if I make the first move. Internet only, not available in stores.

On cursing...
I don't have a problem with cursing, nor with blogs which have the word "fuck" all over it. It actually entertains me even. Those bloggers who choose to be discreet with their choice of cuss words are fine, I respect their personal restrictions. But I believe that we, the cursing-machines, have a lot more fun with blogging. Because not only we are more spontaneous at it, we get to vent out whatever fuckage we feel inside without being cordial, which doesn't make sense to begin with when you're supposed to sound agitated, right?. So thumbs up to online cursing! Just caution your kids regarding my blog, 'coz apart from curse words, I have countless sexual references on it. Remotely not family-oriented.

On communities and awards...
I joined Ricebowls just around the time I started blogging, to generate hits, I guess. But I found it pointless, so I ditched it and forgot about the groupies shenanigans. I mean, I blog just for the heck of it, and I enjoy it as is. As for those awards thingamaboob and stuff, I think it's too intricate for me. So don't ever nominate me for those shit or I'll pummel your ass like never before.

On life on the radar...
Just as my site title indicates, I'm very reserved when it comes to my personal life. I'm not a celebrity, nor the kind considered to be an actual "public figure" but I've practiced maintaining that blanket of privacy in fear of exposing my personal relationships. But I think I've kind of bended that unwritten rule over time, especially when chaos conquers our very home. So chaotic that I had to categorize it and dedicate one particular section for it on my blog. But that's just for domestic purposes. I still refuse to hold discussions about my past boylets, flings, and birthday prostitutes. ;)

If you have read this introduction, you should notice that I'm celebrating three days earlier than dated. While it doesn't really matter, I thought I'd explain why. I have been bombarded with lab work, Algebraisms, and career-choice dilemmas that would potentially prevent me from posting this on the 27th, so I hope you don't mind. *confetti rain*

Once again, thanks to all of you who have patiently put up with me all these years. I can't wait to start another three years with y'all. Que horror! :))

Spring prints.

2007-03-18T20:13:00.000-07:00

Spring is here, my favorite season, as you all know. The cold winds, bright sun, and blossoming flowers make up for the dry, itchy, and freezing winter that irked our heels, elbows and scalps every single day. It's the perfect season for picnics, photography, lake dates (too frumpy but who cares), and outdoor yoga (whatever that means).

My prints!! Love 'em or hate 'em.

I was so excited because the pool will be a daily exercise engine again, the highways wouldn't be a battlefield anymore, and I'll be able to wear my favorite tops with no longer messing up the sleeves (that was caused by default mechanism of layered clothing). So I cleaned up my closet over spring break, stacked my winter clothes on the other side, and put the spring/summer clothes on the accessible side. But how about a major killjoy? Just when I was about to jump out with my cropped pants and hippie top, the weather had to be pissy and blow us 50-degree winds. Well, that's not saying much compared to the "spring" New York has been having, but come on, 50s are for early fall, we're supposed to be in the 70s, not some foreplay to winter! But enough with the bitching. The weather has been fairly cooperative today, and I hope that it continues to be like this the following week, 'coz I'm not going back to school with a turtleneck on. Please.

Deuce Prize!

Don't leave!!! I'm not gonna drive my fanaticism up your clueless ass yet again, nor pursuade you to obsess with me. But I just thought I'd share the news here, for women may especially be delighted by it... Wimbledon and Roland Garros decide to pay women the exact same amount of prize money given to men after years of seemingly pointless debates. The old-fashioned grandslam juggernut (Wimby) finally wakes up in the 20th century and realizes that women are already accustomed to wearing pants, driving trucks, and mowing the lawn. The French Open emulated the maneuver shortly after.

Mike and Tony debate. Who's worse, Antonella or Sanjaya?

Now that all slams have committed themselves to equal pay, someone closeminded just had to rain on the parade. Tommy Haas, currently ranked #9, bitches that men are playing 5-setters during grandslams compared to women's 3, therefore he disagrees with the decision. I guess it would have made more sense if somebody like Federer was the one contradicting it, but Haas? Um, by any chance he stumbles upon this blog, or if Lizette advices him that a certain blogger is trying to sabotage his resurging career, here's an open letter that will hopefully avert his selfish opinion.

Tommy,

A five-setter is never compulsory. Just play damn well and you'll easily get a win within three sets. But you're simply not the Top 5 player you were centuries ago, hence you felt the need to unmask your inner sexist and inform the world of your irrational opinion. You openly deprecate women's ability to compete to your level because they never have five setters? Well, how about playing under the exceedingly hot sun, in a crucial first round match, with only a visor helping you continue breathing while tracking the rapid yellow ball. Sharapova, as huge as she appears to be, the teenager nearly died on that match, while you were granted either an indoor court or match suspension. Just try juxtaposing Rafael Nadal's biceps to Daniela Hantuchova's legs. Let's see if that particular comparison can provide anything have your stupid argument make sense.

A female tennis fan,
Kai

Speaking of Rafa...

One more time, please. Just let me write about it. *cue soap opera music* If it displeases you, then I'll let you go. I just have to let it out!!... Ok, so I had been waiting for this match-up for YEARS!! (2 years and 3 months to be exact.) Finally, the draw worked on my horny eyes' favor and set up a semifinal clash between two of the hottest men in sports today. OMG. California desert was sizzling to death!!!

Wherever Andy's hand is remains to be an enigma.
Oh my gosh! You're totally imagining it, hahaha!

Man, was that the spring break? Gee, I'll be back in school with no stories in tow! "How's your break?" "Oh, I just watched tennis, basketball and a lot of VH1. Lame, right?" Yeah, I'll only embarrass myself. Might as well start gathering some ideas now and fabricate a cool spring break story...

My dad's silly theorem and some who's who game.

2007-03-12T21:46:00.000-07:00

Roger Federer's 41 winning streak was snapped by Guillermo Canas yesterday. Relatively unknown Argentenian upset the world number one in straight sets at the ATP Masters Series Indian Wells. And in ironic circumstances the streak Federer's trying to beat (Guillermo Vilas') was hindered by another Guillermo and an Argetenian at that!

Then 24 hours later, the Dallas Mavericks, who has already clinched a playoff spot last week, had their longest winning streak ended by playoff-desperados, Golden State Warriors (who, according to my brother, actually have a habit of beating the Mavs in their turf).

Ok, it's me I'm only entertaining. I'm sure you all are yawning to death because I'm talking Sports AGAIN. But hey! Don't leave yet! I've got a story. And I promise you, this one's pretty interesting.

My dad has this ludicrous theory about Mafia and dominant figures in sports (i.e., Roger Federer and the Dallas Mavericks). Each time they lose, he'd remind me of this particular assumption he has that's the catalyst of each defeat. He believes that there are money-making gangs or mobs out there who pay these athletes/clubs to lose for their gambling's welfare.

I know, it kinda sounds foolish, right? But now even my brother confirms that this kind of stuff actually happens in reality. For example, a mogul bets on Andy Roddick to win that tournament. He happens to be in the same bracket as Federer, who holds a 12-1 edge against him. For some ignorant reason, that mogul decides he'd go up against the odds and actually take his chances of allowing his money slip away. Now, with all that bazillions on the line, he pays Federer to lose the match, in order to give Andy Roddick a breathing space to win the title. If and when Andy wins, the mogul also does. Big, bigger, biggest bucks. And that's how it supposedly works.

I still think it's a little too implausible. Or maybe I'm just being naive, as I always am when it comes to Sports. I mean, don't take it from the adult who still wants to think Professional Wrestling is real. (Speaking of WWE, The Rock was backkkk!!! But that's a whole other story, which I doubt you'd be interested in anyway.) But I digress. I'm still skeptical about this mafia-buys-results theory, and it lacks sensible proof to be convincing and realistic.

Hmm... That wasn't really that interesting. But I tried. Sigh. I wish I have readers who are sport nutcases too. But anyway, I still love you all. So, to redeem myself from pitching this, how about a survey? YAY!!! (Snagged from Alternati.)

Who is the first blogger you met?
Well, we were not bloggers yet then, but Eira or Shai (as she's popularly known as). We knew each other way back our jolog (haha) years and it was a surprise to see her again, in the blogosphere, no less. But if you want to get technical, I have met none. Because Bone wrote me off when I was in California!! (Just kidding. But seriously mare, why didn't you show up again? Haha.)

Who is the blogger ‘You Most Want to Meet’?
John Mayer, because I'm smarter than Jessica Simpson. I'm not sexy, but I'm a natural brunette!

Who is the ‘I can meet, want to meet, but somehow never got to meet’ blogger?
My virtual sister, Ate Clare, who's my very first blog-friend (eversince blogdrive years). It's actually kind of weird how she's one of the people I trust the most, when I only knew her from cyberspace. That's how amazing this person is. And I really hope she had superpowers like Hiro's, so she could teleport here whenever I boyhunt. At nang mapalitan na din niya ang virtual kuya ko. :P

Do you have any bloggers/blog readers that you would like to meet right now?
Para walang tampuhan, I'll write your names on post-its and draw them from a basket. Let's see who makes up my list. Drumroll please...

Deb, another long-time friend through blogging. I failed to tell her that I was in Eagle Rock the exact same time she was. We could have chatted the night away with some halo-halo (during winter but who cares) from Chowking.
When I get the chance, I will celebrate Chinese New Year with Jaz, as we'll lunch tikoy and idiotically dance along the red dragon. Choopeta style.
I would also like to tour with Lizette, and check if Dmitry really steals Victoria Secret undies during rain delays just to make his locker the subject of ATP's envy.
Kat still owes me White Castles, and a stub to one of her gigs. Heh, I kid. Not really. :P
And Bone, that Chino's you promised!!! Puro pagkain ata ang utang sa akin. Pa-obvious!
One of the things in my to-do list is to hunt Russ down, when I come visit the Philippines. And she will have to provide me the best beach vacation there is. With blog-friend discount, of course.
I've always wanted to lead a solo and yuppie life in New York. And mainly because I hate to drive. Maybe in a couple of years, I'd beg Joey for help to show me around, and hand me tips of what-and-what-nots during 5-minute intervals between subway rides.
Next up... Jen. Um, I actually met her already, I just drew her name from the basket, and I didn't want to cheat so there you go. Seriously! There's some raffle going on here. ;)
[ETA] For some reason, I lost Chas, but anyway... I'm aware that if there's anything we both love during the itchy season of winter, it's not just snow, it's fashion. And I would love to go to Milan, Paris, Madrid with him during fashion week someday.
It was a margin of a day when Laureen and I were in the exact same place (Austin). I really wanted to meet her, in hopes of filling out the number one question before it comes around, but I wasn't able to do that due to uncooperative weather and conflicting schedules. I really hope to see her next time, perhaps next spring break, and we'll be party-ing like real single college babes during South by Southwest.
Vayie is the 1 to my 10. We share the same Kris-Aquino-annoyance, and the same love for Manu Ginobili. One of the funniest persons I've met. (Well, not met, personally, but crossed paths with, if you want to get all technical up my ass.) It would be really fun to watch Ask The Dust with her, and watch her squeal to death. :P
Talamasca. I haven't really known you all that much, but since your name surged from the basket, I'll just propose to you a challenge, when we get the chance to meet. How about a scrabble game only composed of curse words? Game? Lame? Really? Shit. Bitch. :))
I also want to meet Shari. Because she actually knows how to live like me. Big and beautiful!
And the wildcard goes to... Cruise! Ha, I'm so glad I got your name off the basket. (There really is a basket, folks!) You've been a constant visitor for years, even if we both enjoy changing addresses. And I'm actually one of the few who had the chance to know your real name. ;) I really enjoy your snapshots, and I hope your trip queue includes Texas. Because I tell you, we've got the best beef and barbecues. You'll love it here!

I apologize to those I unintentionally left out. Blame the basket! Or your luck. Til next time!

Because I make it work.

2007-03-10T14:33:00.000-08:00

As repeatedly publicized, I have this on-going royal rumble with weight. While that may possibly be my lifelong cancer, I don't let it mess with this lifestyle I'm consistently trying to make normal. Let's just say, I'm not your ordinary fat girl. There are numerous things I can do, that most biggies can't (indian-sitting, hand-standing, and finger-licking, to name a few). But most notably, I've always been commended for taking risks, clothing-wise, and how I tweak each get-up to suite a 200-pounder.

When I was in high school, I had always been the fat girl who can't dress. Elephant pants + baggy shirts = the black dude in me. My sexual orientation was even questioned a couple of times. Like, did I really look like a boy? I had braids!! Oh shoot. Basketball players have braids. Snoop doggy dog has braids. So... yeah, fuck, I guess I really did look like a butch. Moreover, affirming the popular myth, my kind of fashion, or lack thereof, back then was unfortunately clueless. I was too preoccupied with pool that I didn't even notice I was slowly looking like my Idol. Only with teeth.

Good thing, I got kicked out. Not that it was an event in my life I can be thankful for (although being dubbed as the "rebel" was kinda cool, ohhh, stop, shussh!!!) but it paved way for me to stick out of that exhausting bubble. I discovered that being fat isn't reason enough to stagnate my take on things, and unmodify my life. I started to LOVE shopping, picking clothes that aren't cousins of trash bags, and make total abuse of under-utilized Fat Fashion stores. But here's the thing. Despite already dressing up like a woman, my new sense of style anyhow flummoxed people who saw me everyday, especially my mom, who simply doesn't get it, and my brother, who thinks I look like a fortune teller each time I dress up.

NOTE: Picture on your left was captured while shopping, inside my fitting room. I know, who takes a picture of herself while dressing up, right? But I just thought I'd supply you with evidence. Half-naked snapshots reserved for MySpace. *wink, wink*

Silly prints, huge dangling earrings, outstretched necklaces, and long crinkle skirts make up my usually unfathomable fashion. Years of sporting the style, nobody has come up to me and complimented how I looked. Until that particular Thursday in school. It's college, nobody would care! Brittany, who has weird but cool taste in clothes herself (*mean girl syndrome* honestly, more on the weird side, but she's blonde and pretty anyway, won't hurt her one bit), proves that overused statement on a daily basis. So I braved the anticipated naysayers and ditched the common jock outfit (sweatshirt + jeans + chucks), and geared up my inner boho.

And let me tell you, I've never been SO flattered in my life.

By my professors, by classmates I don't even talk to, and even by this random woman I shared the same elevator ride with. It was such an Ugly Duckling moment. But whatever, it's been a loooooooooooong time since somebody, unrelated to me, said I looked pretty. *rosy cheeks surge* Trust me, ladies. There's nothing like that feeling of comfotably being yourself, in the superficial public, and actually be showered by overwhelming compliments.

I don't really talk fashion here, but since I'm at it, I might as well share a couple of reminders to all my ladies (and no, I'm not talking to you, sexy bitch!).

• Clothes for plus-sized women cost a lot. Wherever you go, even if you're from Bhutan, clothes for fat people, in general, are excessively expensive. So, as much as possible, stay away from the malls. They have ridiculously beautiful (and branded, but who gives a fuck about brands) stuff in there, but awfully mind-boggling price tags. You may want to try local boutiques, they offer reasonably, and you can even get a pretty good discount if you fill out a couple of carts.

• If you're the extra-extra (or even another extra) large type of biggie, don't be shy and look for that elusive 5x mark. America's obesity epidemic is severely disseminated not to have additional Xs in their dress sizes.

• Gather as much clothes as you can when you fit. It won't hurt trying all at once, while it will going back and forth. Although that's exercise, I won't encourage you to do that. Leave the sweating off the clothes. Please.

• Don't buy clothes and shoes from the internet. Period.

• Be confident. I'm not sure why I'm saying this, because I never intend to be your counselor in any way to begin with, but let me be nice for just one second... You can hear this from a lot of [mature] guys, and trust me when I say that they actually mean it (for once in their fuckin' lives, they're saying something true). Feeling like you're pretty and sexy and knowing that you're pretty AND sexy (yeah, I said it) are two different things. Go figure.

• And most importantly, assure yourself that you're beautiful. Don't dress up, wear make-up, bathe in cologne, just because you want to please your husband, boyfriend, teacher (well, some do that), etc. But do it for yourself. I won't say the inside and out thing, 'coz that's just worn, but every person's made to be beautiful. It's all up to you now to rejuvenate that inert pizazz. *snaps*

In case you're interested...

2007-03-05T11:46:00.000-08:00

I haven't blogged for a week (borderline hiatus for the avid blogger in me) because of vexatious school work. Professors decide that they would pollute us with chapter tests a week or two before Spring break with little review and (when they're feeling shitty and their husbands aren't home in time) no reminder at all. But don't worry, I have all the blood in the world to sustain the stress and the variety of Southern accents.

I'll spare you my boring college stories, there's not much to talk about anyway (translate: no boys at all!). So, let's see... I have a crapload of other stories to share with you, but it requires major randomness. I hope it's ok. I mean, you know, I've never really been random here...

I went to the movies with Rutendo last Friday. Ok, let me explain the name first. I mentioned her here before as Retunda, because that's how I always heard her being referred as. Little did I know that I have been mispronouncing (let alone, mispelling) her name all this time! I was editing my phone, in her car, when I finally garnered the guts to ask her the real score.

Me: "So how do you really spell your name?"
Rutendo: "Oh, it's R-u-t-e-n-d-o."
Me: "Oh, so it's R-u-t-e-n-d-a. Rutenda. Right? I've been calling your Retunda, and you don't say a thing? Haha, I'm really sorry."
Rutendo: "It's actually, O. Rutendo. But that's okay, everybody does that."

I was so embarrassed!!! Like fuck! This person's taking me to a girls night out, and I don't even know her name! And would you believe, I also once called her Roshunda? Stop laughing, please.

So anyway, as I've said, the bonding session pushed through, despite my self-produced humiliation. It's your typical girls night out, without the halter tops on disco floors, and vigorous flirtation with the opposite sex. It was just the two of us, enjoying our pink beverages at Friday's, exchanging life's horror in OMG-are-you-serious fashion, and a couple of movies to cap the night off. We watched Music and Lyrics, which was so cute, (I mean, who would pass up a chance to see Hugh Grant half naked, right?) and Wildhogs, which was... ugh, apalling, for lack of a better judgement. I wanted to warn her that the movie would be disastrous (judging from the film connoisseurs), but she insisted. It's her part of the treat, so why not. But damn, 20 bucks for that movie? Trash. That's already four mojitos for the two of us!!

You are gold and silva-ha-ha.
Good thing Hugh Grant's effortless wit was spot on, or I'll forever remember that night as the night I saw four 50-something guys skinny dip. Altogether. Yikes! Nevertheless, we had a blast. If the weather wasn't just chilly, and if my mom wasn't practicing her being a mom (to a 12 year old, as she still sees me to be), I would definitely grab her to uptown Dallas where the real fun is. Well, maybe next time. When the gays are out and about. That'd be crazy fun! :))

Oh, so it's already March. I had to go through my planner first before actually reminding myself that another month has passed and my diet hasn't started yet (like it gets me somewhere). But aren't planners supposed to be helpful, and priority-oriented? Yeah, right!

Who puts Oprah in their gawdemn planner?!?!!
And you bet, I had the exact same thing in my phone. Can you blame me? Ellen and Oprah together, only happens once in a blue moon! It's like hitting two birds with one stone. Ha, there's some American idiom for you. I just thought I'd insert one, since haven't been exercising that part of speech here in my blog so... Anyway, in my HDEV journal, I confessed that I have enormous priority issues. Like right now. I'm supposed to be making love with the ruler (figuratively speaking, you pig!) and the graphing paper, but here I am, talking to you about my life's nonsense. I really have to rehab this... or my mom will bitchfight with me again.

Speaking of my mom, we're finally talking. I overheard (but of course, pretended that I didn't hear a thing) that she was studying something for her new job at Coppell, so she needed an updated Internet Explorer. Being enemies with me didn't benefit her all that much, she was forced to work with my brother's hemorrhaging computer. But can I be any eviler? The softie in me approached her and offered my much more functional machine, I was going downstairs anyway, to find solace in sharpenning my graphing skills. She smiled at me and asked me if I was still mad. Will I nod, hurting her even more by my blunt animosity? (Yes mom, I'm not over your harsh behavior, so be sure you're off my desk after 2 hours.) DUH, of course not! Only bad daughters do that. But she apologized, and for me that was enough. She was the bitch in that certain exchange of abrasive tempers, so I'm glad I'm in the receiving end of apologetic approach. And I love my mom. She just needs to control the nerves when something she wants is not being done right. As do I.

And may I just share... A close friend of mine from way back in the days (Eira, si Donita, remember?) is currently working for the ATP (men's professional tennis chuvaloo). She's my personal connection to Federer and co., and she never fails to message me everytime something interesting happens. Like this most recent one.

sisssss!!!!!

naku isusumbong ko lang sayo si rafa! sinundo ko sha sa airport, shempre sikat sha kaya andaming nagpapicture.. aba nagsumbong ba naman sa atp officials na andami raw nagpapicture sa kanya. at ako ang itinuro nya. nuku... gigil na gigil tlga ako! gusto ko sha kurutin sa pwet. haha!!

If your Tagalog is pathetically incompetent, let me summarize the thing for you... My friend's basically telling me that my favorite player is a dickhead for blowing off fans in the aiport, and even blamed her for his displayed rude behavior. Ok, this seriously turned me off. Not that he had the balls to blame a pretty lady for his excuse, but shove off fans? Gee, Rafa. You're not getting a second date from me. I swear!

Well, that's about it... I'm off to torture my brain cells with slopes once again. Have an awesome week, my friends! And remember, if you're planning to watch Wild Hogs, take my advice. For major boyfriend points, go to a local bar instead, watch some incredible Mavs game, and drown yourself in margaritas. In other words, it's not worth it. Unless you've been craving for a tattooed Ray Liotta and a half naked (with sagging man-boobs, no less) Travolta.

As predicted...

2007-02-26T16:42:00.000-08:00

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

2007-02-25T00:11:00.000-08:00

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

2007-02-18T21:16:00.000-08:00

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.

2007-02-14T20:31:00.000-08:00

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

2007-02-12T10:05:00.000-08:00

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...

2007-02-05T17:18:00.000-08:00

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!

2007-02-02T22:35:00.000-08:00

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!

And I am telling you...

2007-01-31T12:52:00.000-08:00

I'm not going... Ok, that was cheesy. HAHA! Well, I certainly have no plans of extending this mini-hiatus, so please, just embrace me back.

I'm not that all about school actually, there's just been a lot of papers, chapter tests and disconcerting algebraic expressions to get over and done with before hopping back to the usual blogging habit...well, at least temporarily. So let's see... I guess I haven't been missing a lot. I did see The Queen and Dreamgirls over the weekend, I've already seen all the Best Picture contenders but Babel, which I don't have any interest in seeing anyway, and I'm presently counting down to the Oscars. Reviews are over at my Mulitply, so I'm not gonna expand opinions here anymore. But can I just say... if Jennifer Hudson doesn't win an Academy Award, I'll watoosee the Kodak Theatre til it burns down the whole Hollywood Blvd in ashes. Um, seriously!

See what I'm talking about?
Oscar Predictions:
Best Actress: Helen Mirren, "The Queen"
Best Actor: Forest Whitaker, "The Last King of Scotland"
Best Supporting Actress: Jennifer Hudson, "Dreamgirls"
Best Supporting Actor: Eddie Murphy, "Dreamgirls"
Best Director: Martin Scorsese, "The Departed"
Best Picture: "The Departed"

I don't really have a good reputation when it comes to predicting things, but I took this guessing game from Yahoo!, and got everything I answered right [but Best Actor]! But hey, that's some improvement!

Oh gosh, can't tell you enough how excited I am for J-Hud! Who would have thought that an Idol reject, who didn't even make the top 5, would be nominated for an Academy Award? Pretty surreal, right? Speaking of Idol, I haven't been monitoring the auditions like I used to in past seasons, but I've seen some good stuff here and there. So far, I like the attractive 16-yr old from New York, the hair-headed dude from Memphis, and that humorous afroboy from 'Bama. I'll be surprised if these three don't make it to the finals, or at least the Top 24. That's how good I think my taste is, hahaha!

Better-er

Also vigorously followed the two-week broadcast of the Australian Open, not to mention, in hopes of seeing another guy win it all besides Roger Federer. I mean, we all know the guy is unbelievably masterful, but every tournament he enters always seems to be the Federer invitational. That's how ridicolously perfect he is! Damn it. But at least, women's tennis brought some juice over the 2-week tourney. If Serena Williams mercilessly annihilating Sharapova in the finals wasn't exhilarating enough then I don't know what is. Told you, the junk is back!!!

Alright, that's about it. My own comeback is done. School's been refraining me to finish the ironing job and I've been stacked with clothes for almost 2 weeks now. Boy do I miss my yaya. So anyway, gotta get to this. See you later!

Transition Overdue

2007-01-20T00:19:00.000-08:00

I just had to be reminded that half of my senior high batch is about to graduate by the end of spring. Ok, I'm supposed to be fully determined to be back in school, right? But my situation's slowly leaning towards the embarrassing, frustrating and pathetic. But like you, they all gave me the cliche' of it all... It's better late than never... Try until you succeed... It's better to give than to receive... (oh not that one, haha). So there I was, in a freezing Tuesday morning, discovering the humongous campus I now shall call my new second home. Eww, second home? Anyway...

I'm still hooked with the lifestyle I got accustomed with while out of school, therefore, I only got the three subjects I needed to fuel this supposed-to-be productive year with. TTH, from 9am to 2pm. Not bad! Hahaha. Fine, it's a daycare kind of schedule, but hey, I'm still recovering. Let's just think that I just got out of rehab and have only 12 hours to spend outdoors weekly. Fair enough, right? :))

I arrived at my first class -- Human Development -- 10 minutes ahead of time. Quite a way to make a first impression, eh? No wonder my professor is SO at home with me already (she calls me Kai! =p). So anyway, the first day was the usual "introduce yourself" day. I don't like that, it makes me blush, shake and stutter. But I knew I needed this course to rebuild my social skills. I'm starting to become a wallpaper, and I've never been so scared in my life. I have to regain my friendly, nice, animated being immediately, hence my over-participation the next day. Mrs. Dyer just loves me so much, she had to ask me time and time again if I'd prefer abortion to stay legal or not, if gays and lesbians deserve fair treatment, or the reason why I like bycicles more than motorcycles. I was talking too much, my classmates already know I've got a mole above my upper lip.

Next up was my Reading/English class. Before it even started, the room was already loud, courtesy of Marvin or MV or Em-vee or... anyway, he's such a clown, and it's obviously a cool thing to have someone like him who'd periodically lighten up a possibly boring course. We basically spent the hour and a half discussing our favorite movies and what materials we often love to read. Thank God, no "getting to know you" stuff. Haha, looks like this wasn't a boring one at all. And there's more... this class consists of people from Jamaica, Nepal, Britain, Africa and Baghdad! That's pretty cool, right? By the second day, I learned that English people and Jamaicans get offended by the apologetic phrase "excuse me", and that they call their fish "fishes". Haha, pretty awesome stuff! And that dude from Baghdad isn't actually an Iraqi or something. He just got home from a 3-year service and is starting to catch up on his studies. Isn't that amazing? Ha, I'll be acquainted with a real soldier! Dude, that's something else!

Then lastly, the dreaded Algebra. Not even five minutes after discussing the syllabus, we were already answering yawning and scratching scalps over fuckin' integers. Wow, this is gonna be a blast! Pfft. This is probably the only course I would have liked to giddily talk about myself. But unfortunately, the teacher -- although nice and all -- was overwhelmingly excited to teach us about her beloved numbers right away. She just couldn't wait. Oh well...

By the way, my HDEV course requires us to keep a journal for the rest of the semester. Basically be writing about various topics weekly assigned to us. That should be fun! It's like blogging, just with a pointed pen and a little more etiquette injected to it. Oh fuck, does that mean I can't curse? Damn it!!! But I'll keep you posted on my progress. For now, I bid adieu. Have an awesome weekend!

Women change their minds too often, don't they?

2007-01-15T12:05:00.000-08:00

...that the Family Feud even had to compose a question based on it. Hahaha, women.

Won't go any deeper on that thought, but it's how I'd explain my abrupt change of templates. Just got tired of that rustic feeling, haha, and it's what two days old? Gee. Makes me think what if I got married, I'm afraid I might have the uncontrollable tendencies of changing my mind that sudden, hahaha.

Anyway, new layout inspired by, obviously, the hottest show on earth, Grey's Anatomy. I'm so in love with this show and it keeps on getting better. So obsessed that I squealed when I found out that my mom's new unit of work is a combo of neurology and plastics, that's like working for McDreamy and McSteamy! Hahaha, I know, it's insane. They're not even real doctors, are they? Oh gosh.

Apart from Grey's, I've also been spending time watching the first season of The Office (Steve Carrell's version). This comedy is like Arrested Development, the modern unconventional type. Contrary to the traditional studio set-ups like Friends, you figure out yourself when you comprehend the whole thing to learn laughing on your own, not by guide of laugh tracks. :))

Saw The Holiday last week. It was cute, romantic and funny. Chick flicks resurrect...again!

BTW, I've added a lot of widgets in the sidebar. Brought back the tagboard (in case I go for a long walk again), then the mainstay music player, the new flickr stuff, and that "what I'm doing" twitter thingamajig I found at Joey's Multiply. I've already got everything! All I need is a fridge and I'm good to go, haha.

So the Australian Open already started. Random query, do these people even experience winter? I mean, apart from their brief 'off-season', I always see them wearing those skimpy tennis skirts and the men, although brings me delight, practice without their tops on. Haha, should I care, really. Anyway, it's also the kickstart to another greuling year of 'come-ons' and umpire bitching, and not to mention, bangin' fashion.

Serena Williams (USA), Jelena Jankovic (SRB), Amelie Mauresmo (FRA), Nicole Vaidisova (CZE)
The Reebok girls were somehow in uniform, but they all look great. Especially Mauresmo who almost looks like a man in another outfit. And I love how they give boobs to these semi-flat Europeans. Good job, Reebok! And look who's back? It's the junk! Hahaha. I'm so glad to see her playing again, in stunning fashion, no less. Tell me, who else out there can pull off 2-pounder earrings while playing hard-hitting tennis? Only Serena. Only her. IDOL! And the men? Know what, I couldn't care less. As long as Rafa wears the trademark piratas and bicep-bearing tops, I'm all his!

I was quietly enjoying time alone here in my room when my mom suddenly knocked and asked me to put socks on her. Fine. Parents. And she --out of the blue, changed her mind-- basically goes... "Don't try nursing anymore, it's such a bitch!". And I was just like, "are you serious???". Wow. This is complicated but... FUCKIN' AWESOME!!! Hahaha, that's all I've been longing to hear! But... what do I do now? I still wanna earn like she does *clueless second*

Immona leave you now with this survey Acey tagged me with. I know, I've been posting surveys here like those seemingly lifeless people on MySpace/Friendster, but give me this while I'm fond of it. Not for long, I'll get tired of it once again, hehe. I'm supposed to state 5 weird facts about me. Um, ok. Here w'go...

1. I knock on wood everytime a bad thought nudges my unlocked cells.
2. I cross my fingers and wish everytime I see a digit repeated thrice (time, plate #).
3. I cough constantly when I get nervous and/or excited.
4. I like french fries dipped in vanilla ice cream. McDo style.
5. When I poop, I wash my hands with 2-3 different soaps. Ok, overshare. :))

Have a nice week, you all.

Fat Like Me

2007-01-12T11:42:00.000-08:00

By accident, I tuned into Lifetime channel Monday night, a channel by the way that I never even notice. But as I was about to switch back to USA (for RAW), this movie's prologue started to roll, then I realized that it was Kaley Cuoco's docu-drama, the one she promoted on The View just earlier that day. The morning show's obstreperous quartet was discussing obesity and its cons for the whole day, thanks to Trumpo's childish remarks. But anyway, Kaley was there for the obvious reason, and then I was instantly intrigued by the premise. And since RAW's normally being recorded weekly, I've decided to sit through the whole movie instead.

Kaley Cuoco as Aly in Lifetime TV's "To Be Fat Like Me"
It's about Aly, a popular high school jock who missed an opportunity for an athletic scholarship for college because of an untimely injury. Desperate of making it to college, she looked for countless ways to make it, including begging her coach for another chance (to no avail), until a friend suggested that they enter a contest of film documentary. Getting the idea from others who disguised themselves as other sexes and races, Aly eventually agreed to document a life of a teenage fat girl. With the help of her cosmetic specialist neighbor, she easily looked the part in a fat suit, and soon after finalizing the look, she enrolled to a new high school and began the experiment. Aly's disguise was capitalized by her delightful personality which she believed would never affect her physical appearance. She was wrong. Because no matter how friendly she was to fellow teenagers, it didn't help her gain the popularity she has when she's being her normal tiny self. If anything, it only provoked narrow-minded people to poke fun at her even more. In her own little ways though, she tried to make it all different, starting with a new friend who also happens to be fat. She'd always relay words of comfort and courage, but at the end of the day, her opinion isn't what matters the most, because she's still not like one of us. She ultimately has no idea what we see, feel and go through every single day.

While watching the thing, I was saying to myself, "God, isn't that you?". I mean, I know I'm naturally big and all, and it's not because I wear a fat suit daily. It's just that, I've always been Ms. Personality, amidst cholesterol levels. I just don't and will never crucify myself by NOT liking what I see in the mirror. It's not that I'm entirely contented with this, but unlike Aly, I never give up. I will always refuse to think that my physical appearance should hinder harmonious relationships with people I get to be with every single day. But regardless of my positive outlook in life, I still recognize the fact that being fat has its fair share of discrimination, just like say, being the only Mexican person in Park City. Just like racism, bigotry towards fat people DOES exist, and despite being extra assertive about it, it will never go away. And I'm also aware that there are quite a number of girls my age who are embarrassed and aggravated with themselves, especially when that favorite pair of jeans doesn't fit anymore. But even if that has to be the repercussion of being fat, I don't even feel any remorse about being the way I am today, physically. I may be hurt at times but I avoid looking back and drowning myself in neverending shouldawouldacouldas. And what the freakin' hell?!! I'm enjoying my life right now --nevermind the waistline-- and I'm surrounded by awesome people who love, respect and accept me for who I am, inside and out. And trust me, I am doing something about it.

White Castle!!!

2007-01-09T16:45:00.000-08:00

As some of you may know, I'm such a huge fan of this movie, that it deserved a slot in my lifelist. I vowed to myself to do or have a variety of the most random things before I die, and tasting the famous White Castle burgers was never to be excluded. I knew though that the only chance I'd get to grab a bite of it was to go to the eastern part of the country and perseveringly look for it ala Harold and Kumar. But who would've thought that today is the frickin' day that I would get my free taste of the enticing slyders?? My brother passed the written exams for driver's licensure, so I guess this had to be his "blowout". He stopped by Save-A-Lot to grab some to-do pancakes when he saw this particular shelf stacked with White Castle microwavables! Sure enough, it didn't disappoint my lunch deprived tastebuds. And it only cost him 3 bucks! Hahaha, how's that for a Jersey treat!

These burgers are somewhat a quarter the normal size. It doesn't have any other condiments besides melted cheddar cheese. The one you get from the chain apparently has pickles and onions, but this already tastes great as it is. Definitely one of the best burgers I've tasted. Ok, before I go on drooling on the thing, I have to say that I only had a couple of them. Like a total of 6-8 bites (that's not a lot, you know!), so don't castigate me for yet again not controlling what I eat. Besides, it's for lunch and my brother's treat! Can't pass up a free meal, right? Hehehe.

I don't know Math but I can do ABCs.

2007-01-06T21:43:00.000-08:00

I'm finally registered as the dawn of a new career path is ready for me to take. Naks, ang drama. But seriously. I'm back to school, y'all! It's been a while since I'm bound to do something as productive as this, so yeah, I should be excited. Even if it means going to a class of 1+1 learners twice a week. :))

I'm actually not in the perfect mood right now, my eyes are kinda baggy already, and the Cowboys got devastatingly ousted in the playoffs. We totally had a shot, I mean, if Romo's stupid hands just got a good grip on that frickin' football, we would've easily won! All he needed to do was tightly hold on to it and yet he still couldn't get it done!!! But I knew the only thing that'd make my vanished Superbowl hopes subside is a survey. A MySpace kind of survey. Hahaha, seriously! You see, I wasn't the biggest fan of this "what did you last eat?" questionnaires, but it's grown to be therapeutic for me, especially at heartbreaking times like this. So here we go...

Snagged from Cher.

A - Available or single: Single and NOT looking. Taray!
B - Best friend: I don't have one, nor do I like one. Group of tight friends = less harm.
C - Cake or pie: Either. ;)
D - Drink of choice: Water. Especially during winter and flu season.
E - Essential item you use everyday: Water dispenser.
F - Favorite color: Red.
G - Gummy bears or worms: Worms.
H - Hometown: Cainta and downtown Dallas (the 'hood).
I - Indulgence: Chinese food, onion rings, and male tennis professionals (haha!).
J - January or February: January.
K - Kids & names: I'd love to, in time. Althea and Sebastian.
L - Life is incomplete without? Money. DUH?
M - Marriage date: Not even sure if it's for me.
N - Number of siblings: Two. Patrick, 18 and Jeffrey, 24 (deceased).
O - Oranges or apples: Apples.
P - Phobias or fears: Fears.
Q - Fave quote: From Masha and Michael...

Michael: "Girls are like subway trains, they come and go in 5 minutes."
Masha: "Boys are like parking lots, they're either taken or handicapped."
HAHAHAHAHAHA! LOVE IT!!! Girl power! :))

R - Reason to smile: Food on table, winning sports bets and less bulk mails.
S - Season: Spring. Cleaner, warmer, and funner.
T - Tag 3 people: Oh gosh, just snatch this time-filler if you want to.
U - Unknown fact about me: I wear bloody red nail color right now, hehe.
V - Vegetable you don’t like: Okra.
W - Worst habit: Yelling.
X - X-rays: Hate 'em. You need to be naked and all. YAK!
Y - Your fave food: Anything with noodles (pasta or pansit)
Z - Zodiac sign: Capricorn

DONE! Ok, my dad just had to remind me, like I'm a 9 year old that needs to brush her teeth and be in bed in 10 minutes, about church tomorrow morning. Hahaha, I'll miss this when I finally move out. Anyway, hope y'all are having a the best first '07 weekend! :)

It's my birthday and I'll whine if I want to!

2007-01-04T13:02:00.000-08:00

I was in my new school the whole day yesterday, prepping for my first nursing-doomed schoolyear when I was informed that my MATH needs major improvement. Hahahaha, laughable stuff! I wasn't even shocked. Like I've always been aware that I severely suck at it. Not that I didn't seek help, nor never attempted working on it, it's just that... Math and I are like Paris Hilton and Linday Lohan. We'll get along one day, and catfight the next. It's just never gonna work! But no matter how limited my knowledge about it is, I know I'm still capable of adding, subtracting, multiplying and even dividing whole numbers. Hahaha, seriously, I can do that. Hence my hysteria over dissatisfying scores! MATH = not college ready. Are you kidding me? I may be mathematically challenged, but my brains aren't sophomoric. I got a good score in reading and very high praises for my writing skills! I know Math is totally different, but not college ready?? Not college ready?? This is ridiculous!

But what can I do... It's not like I could bitchfight my way out of it. I have to pass Elementary Algebra, (I repeat, ELEMENTARY!) to get 3 units (Nursing prefuckinrequisite) of Algebra II or College Algebra. Man, can you imagine my numeral-loathing head revolving around these demanding subjects?? Don't even be surprised if you just heard one day, I hanged myself in the attic because of it. Like seriously. What was I even thinking when I've decided to be a nurse and ditch my dreams of becoming the next Paula Dean? What were YOU thinking?!!

But it was my birthday and I wouldn't let anything as embarrassing as this ruin my very day. Since there weren't plans of partying, I just asked my dad to drop by Walmart so we could get the usuals: orange chicken, strips with country gravy, mac and cheese and a humongous pizza for the day. Hahaha, celebrating my failure. Why not? But guess what. I'll try it just one last time. Who knows, I'll be Cady-mathlete one day. Haha, birthday girl can dream!

Before I forget... thanks to the blogger beauties who remembered to blow me kisses yesterday. Ate Clare, Jen, Bone and Jennie. And my CUZ, Hannah. You have no idea how you made my almost suicidal day. :)

2006: Best Year Ever

2006-12-31T13:46:00.000-08:00

I was on my knees paying gratitude for the year that has been, when I started unwrapping the year's colorful events in my head: from Zizu's infamous headbutt to celebrities' junk exhibitionism. 2006 is yet another banner year! But as you may know, this year wasn't exactly as productive as it should've been. I was out of school, pathetically undecided of what route in life I wanted to take. Hence, all of my time were spent and entertained by sports, reality tv, and honey wheat bagels. On a soon-to-be-demolished-bum's point of view, why don't we recall all of the stupid things that we laid our eyes on and conquered our numskulls.

The first half of the year was dominated by the most unlikely couple EVER, Tom Cruise and Katie Holmes, that even The Today Show was dragged into this then-fabricated love affair. The Dawson's Creek alumnus got preggers, and then speculations of an alien morphing inside her womb surged the surface. It never ended, until one cute thick-haired baby named Suri tickled our very eyes. She's probably one of the prettiest babies I've seen of late, but is she real? That I still don't know. But in spite of happy couples like TomKat, Hollywood has made its place a daunting foundation for sacred matrimonies. Sad but true, splitsville was just as trendy as flaunting your crotch. Speaking of displaying the vags, this year, hands down, belonged to Britney Spears. Apart from the most anticipated divorce in history, she lightened up every office cubicle in the world by quite-purposely flashing her fanny. Sure enough, her tool paved the way for the greatest comeback of modern times since Paula Abdul. And there were the other bitches who've altogether monopolized the daily episodes of E! News and sorts. Nicole Richie, the dubbed anorexic (I actually like her); Lindsay Lohan, the firecrotch; and Paris Hilton who's famous for banging half of Hollywood at age 12. It was entertaining when it started, but I'm so sick of these skanks, and I seriously hope to see a new set of regulars on TV and tabloids in the coming year.

On the brighter side of showbizcrap though, this year's TV shows were more than spectacular. Whoever thought that a show that embodies superheroes would be such a hit? I mean, considering that Smallville isn't as magnetic, hehe. Then there's the erupting left eye, the revival of the poncho, the death of Edgar, the wife murderer, the escape of gorgeous convicts, and the additional steam to an already sizzling cast. Scripted TV is back!!! But of course, reality TV won't allow you to ignore their geniuses too. Big Brother was back, with the Chenbot, and an all-star cast. Janelle didn't win, to my dismay, but Taylor Hicks is the new American Idol! A couple of rehab graduates won the Amazing Race, the Hoff was uninvitedly back on our TV sets, and some tattooed manbitch was named Tim Gunn's new boytoy. Wish for next year? More drama, less peculiar results.

It wasn't just the world of glitz and glamour that shook up the world in 2006. Sports' boneheads made headlines for themselves too! Zinedine Zidane's idiotic gesture that crippled his nation's chances of winning the World Cup, in his last game before retirement, no less, was the talk of the town for at least two weeks. I have all the respect for the guy, I mean, arguably the best soccer player of his generation, but come on now. A wrestling move on a sweaty grass field in the middle of a championship match? You gotta be kidding me. Then there was Terrell Owen's suicide/overdose drama right here in my usually peaceful neighborhood of Valley Ranch, Bode Miller's bageled performance at the Olympics, and Floyd Landis' testosterone overload. But it wasn't all that bad this year in sports. In fact, there were some seriously noteworthy performances just like Roger Federer's third year of sheer dominance, Rafael Nadal's superiority on clay (and Federer, hihi), Tiger Woods' emotional comeback at the British Open, Longhorns' amazing Rosebowl win, Saints' momentous homecoming, Andre Agassi's farewell, Mavericks' first trip to the NBA finals, and on top of it all... Emmitt Smith winning Dancing with the Stars! Ha, whatta year.

I can honestly say that I had fun throughout. From being sleepless during midnight of June 6 '06, to indulging a whole afternoon in YouTube, to laughing my ass off Borat's one-liners, to watching Saddam's long awaited execution. 2006's yearbook will forever hold memories of all these stupidity and awesomeness. I hope you all enjoyed it too!

And with that... I wish you my friends a prosperous, entertaining, and zit-free 2007. Cheers!

Year-end survey

2006-12-26T20:43:00.000-08:00

It's that time of the year again when we look back to what we've accomplished, and/or failed to do in the past year, when we recall the bitter moments we all had with our EXes, when we weigh in to check how much fat we've gained, and when we bring out this traditional survey...

What did you do in 2006 that you'd never done before?
Eat In-N-Out's famous burger. Haha, but seriously? Fight for my color.

Did you keep your new years' resolutions, and will you make more for next year?
I didn't. But I plan on making one for next year, and hopefully I get half of it done.

Did anyone close to you give birth?
The best cousin in the world, Hannah!

Did anyone close to you die?
Thankfully, none.

What would you like to have in 2007 that you lacked in 2006?
Something worthy of my time, like school and money-making.

Did you suffer illness or injury?
That damn wisdom tooth!

What was the best thing you bought?
My first pair of chucks.

Whose behavior merited celebration?
MINE! Bwaharhar.

Whose behavior made you appalled and depressed?
My mom's. Especially for refusing to buy me a new ironing board. :))

Where did most of your money go?
Christmas gifts.

What did you get really, really, really excited about?
My 10-day trip to California and Nevada.

What song(s) will always remind you of 2006?
Sexyback by JT. DUH?!

Compared to this time last year, are you:
i. happier or sadder? -- happier.
ii. thinner or fatter? -- OH. Thinner, baby, hahaha!
iii. richer or poorer? -- $300 bucks richer.

What do you wish you'd done more of?
Work out.

What do you wish you'd done less of?
Pig out.

What was your favorite TV program?
Grey's is a no-brainer. But HEROES is the shit, man!

What was your greatest musical discovery?
KT Tunstall, Ray LaMontagne

What was your favorite film of this year?
Little Miss Sunshine. I have a couple more, but I enjoyed this most.

What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying?
Accomplishment in school. Or landing a job somewhere with a satisfying wage.

How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2006?
Preppy in church, sporty in malls, hobo elsewhere.

What kept you sane?
Sports and television.

Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2006:
I'm the only person I have, through thick and thin, in sickness and in health.

What was the nicest thing someone told you about yourself:
That I'm a naturally happy person because of my optimistic outlook in life.

What did you like most about yourself this year?
Well, highlighting what was said about me...my optimism.

What did you hate most about yourself this year?
My being argumentative, especially towards my mom.

Quote a song lyric that sums up your year:
"This could be the very minute, I'm aware I'm alive. All these places feel like home" - Chocolate by Snow Patrol

Was 2006 a good year for you?
It was sloppy at times, but definitely better than anticipated.

Where were you when 2006 began?
Kuya Richard's old apartment in Dallas.

Who were you with?
Family, Kuya Richard, and other Pinoys from CMCD.

Where will you be when 2006 ends?
I'll be watching a Mavericks vs. Nuggets game.

Who will you be with when 2006 ends?
Papa and Patrick.

What was your favorite month of 2006?
November. I was out of town, enjoyed myself, and it snowed when I came back.

What are your plans for 2007?
Go back to school, pursue the dreadful world of medicine, and become an achiever.

What are your wishes for the new year?
A good and successful schoolyear, cool new friends to hang out with, and a new dress size.

My REAL grown up Christmas list.

2006-12-22T17:59:00.000-08:00

I know this won't matter to you, but I'll give it a shot anyway, just in case a gold-hearted individual out there would have something extra to spare me with. I mean, seriously, if Gail got something granted out of her list, then sure I can too. Right? Fine, not really. Haha, but what do I know? It's already Santa Oprah studying my wishlist, hahaha!

I'm not gonna go good samaritan-ish on you and say all I want for Christmas is world peace... Pfft, that's good, but you won't hear me saying that. Instead, I'll be selfishly giving you (and Oprah, haha) a rundown of my needs. :))

1. It's common knowledge that this season isn't just about what it celebrates, it's also about food and being fat. But unlike you, I have some severe issues to work with, and as much as I enjoy eating, I know I need help. And what better way to help me get over this fat situation than gifting me Horizon's new treadmill!

2. Along with that, Ellen told me about Hydracoach, a new thingamajig that calculates the amount of water your body needs, and consumes everyday. Isn't that amazing? Note: it hit stores late December ;)

3. A relaxing but physical vacation would be a perfect way to end the year too. I also need to work on my forehand, so if anybody wants to chip in, The Phoenician would work.

4. Or if it wouldn't, Nintendo Wii offers sports like tennis, baseball and boxing. That'd be just fine for a daily workout.

5. And if that's not asking enough, I also need a personal nutritionist. That of yours, Oprah, too!

6. Or if he's too busy with you, then maybe you can just ask your friend Kirstie to get me some Jenny Craig help. Her change was dramatical and definitely the subject of my envy. A year of subscription would absolutely save my life!

7. Or if that's too much already, a pedometer from Wal-Mart would be fine. I was at Children's yesterday and I read something about keeping a good, balanced lifestyle. And all you need to do is walk 10,000 steps a day. I'm not very good at math, let alone counting, so that pedometer thing will surefire help my ass.

8. And while walking, I think I'm gonna need a new pair of Nikes. Those that got sensors monitoring your progress. Through your iPod, it tells you how long you've been exercising, how far you've gone and how much calories you've burned. Isn't that COOL???

9. And of course, I'm also gonna need an iPod nano for that. Apple green, please.

10. Apart from my concerns with health, I also happen to have a wish for my parents. They'll be celebrating their 25th year together by the end of the month, so if Colin Cowie can come over and help me with things, that'd be amazing.

11. Okay, I'm not entirely deluded yet, and I'm still aware that there's a slim to none chance that Oprah might actually be going through my crappy list. So you know what? I'll probably just wish for a free ticket to Los Angeles so I can audition for Deal or No Deal.

12. And if that works out, I'll be able to get all things mentioned AND finally get a new apartment. Look at me. I'm an adult, and I still live with my parents. I'm out of school and totally jobless. In other words, I need to move out. Immediately! Preferably to AMLI, which is conveniently just across this house. I still want to be close, especially when rough times come, like running out of salt or tin foil.

Alright, enough of this nonsense... In case I don't get to blog on the day itself...

Budget Conscious

2006-12-19T21:54:00.000-08:00

I was so excited to go to the mall today because this is the first time in a while that I'd be shopping for my family, without them knowing what I'm buying, AND without them paying. Hahaha, I know, I've been such a pain. So despite the freezing rain, we braved the foggy weather in hopes of completing our shopping lists.

I hauled my brother because quite honestly, I'm not the most brilliant shopper at all. I hate choosing, so if I get to set my eyes on something pleasant, I'd refrain from looking elsewhere for something cheaper, or better, and he's safely the other way around. Since we were in a mall, it was pretty convenient to hop from one place to another, depending on what our agenda was, and since we were looking for presents for parents (rhyme time!), we went to Dillard's for some bargain but high quality goods. Being the trying-hard-shopwizard that I am, I scanned the website first to have an idea of how much the potential gifts would cost, and some seemed quite reasonable, hence my confidence of heading straight to the retail.

Off I went to the Women's section, looking particularly for Dior's J'adore. As soon as I saw it, I giddily asked the salesperson how much it costs and it was about 10 bucks over my budget. BUMMER! As much as I'd love to spare more, I have three more persons to buy gifts for, so I had to tell the woman that I'm on a tight budget, and couldn't get it. And guess what, she grinned at me like a rich bitch. Oh no she didn't!!! But since I know it was merely classless of her to do that to a budget conscious customer, and I didn't wanna embarrass my brother, I just had to laugh it off. What can I do, Charlize Theron's endorsement is not for the jobless! So I went on and looked for other stuff... to no avail. My thin benjamins were already getting frustrated until I saw this perfume store just accross Dillard's, and IT'S ON FUCKIN' SALE!!! Ahhh, talk about luck! And you bet, I sprinted my way there, dorkily looking around for something to pay for. Excited enough to even forget the store's name...idiot!

But then again, I caught myself in the middle of a "what's your cheapest?" question and answer portion with the attendant. I was like, "Dolce and Gabbana... no? Um, Gucci... anything else? How about Bvlgari... err, that's too much". It was almost embarrassing that I could already feel my armpits sweating bullets, and my poor brother couldn't help either. The woman, who was exceedingly accomodating by the way, tried her hardest to help me though, but she was just as clueless. Well, I'd be baffled too if I was surrounded by all those perfumes of different names with different scents for different ages and sexes. My chances were slowly shrinking, as I continued surveying her of products I know of... until I saw the concealed Escada cubicle behind her. I asked the nice lady if anything there is within my budget, and yes!!! Angels sang in unison, and there it was... a gift for my mother!

Hahaha, I know, sounds like too much trouble for a bottle of perfume. But I'm afraid, I'm not even close to getting my list done. One down, three to go...

Friendster

2006-12-18T09:10:00.000-08:00

I have to admit, I was once addicted to this community, even plead guilty of having multiple accounts before, which partially consist of people who I don't even know, who have too much time in their hands, bombarding your neat, lovely page with messy and glittery testimonials. It grew out to be the most annoying thing ever, hence the urge to abandon them. But for my own personal friends, I've decided to go back and create a new one. I figured that by not having a number in my username (such as Kai-I, Kai-II, Kai-III for corresponding friendster account number. I know. LAME!), it'd be easier for them to locate my profile and get in touch with me, especially now that I'm oceans away.

So far it's doing its duties quite adequately. I get to see my friends' new photographs once in a while, some wedding pictures even, and their babies', but most importantly, it became a tool for me to be in reach again. I'm glad to have gone back! However, there are still some things that kind of stings my eye whenever I log in to it. I don't know how to say this politely, but it's what Hannah loves to call pa-please, hahaha. You know what I'm talking about!

Like this cousin I have from Manila who nicknamed himself "Ashton", when he remotely doesn't look like the real one. I mean, it could've made more sense if he has similar features, or hair, or height, or accent with that Punk'd guy, but no, and his real name isn't even close! Hahaha. Then there are those whose lives revolve on the bulletin boards. One chick writes, "Mama, we all go to hell. I'm writing this letter and wishing you well". Hahaha, the creepiest thing I've read in a long time! I also get mad at my mother, but I sure don't want to go to hell, let alone take her with me. I mean, who does that?!! Then there's another who says, "I've never looked better and you can't stand it.", ermm...not really! Sorry, I know mean girl syndrome, but did she seriously have to say that? On the bulletin boards??? :))

Then there are those profiles which take forever to load because of 1,000 music videos and hundreds more of those photo slideshows. Not to mention, their unbearable animated backgrounds! Isn't the purpose of this thing to get connected with people, and have an interesting and attractive profile? Well, waiting 10 minutes for your page to load is definitely otherwise, that I just had to click the back button and swear to never hit your page again! Don't even get me started on the "emo" or emotional self portraits. Those of which are intended to be stolen shots of yourself. I mean, what's wrong with looking at the camera and displaying your bright smile? :) Seriously.

But eventhough Friendster goes haywire, as its members, I still can't resist the urge of logging in everyday just to check out my friends' daily update of profiles, and frequent addition of photos. It's my own little way of getting connected, because as you know, a jobless prick can only afford so much. So with that, I'd like to thank SBC for my unlimited internet, mom and dad for paying, and Friendster for its free service. Who needs long distance calls when you've got Friendster? Hahaha!

1 vs. 100

2006-12-14T20:41:00.000-08:00

In relationships, there's this common denominator nicknamed chemistry, which is simply being congruous, or having harmony between two parties or a group. And since I'm severely prone to being extra argumentative, I have accepted the fact that this lame harmony thing is like oil to my water. We just can't jive.

That's why I don't have a best friend. I have countless friends, a favorite cousin, a 7-pc barkada, and a gay childhood friend who I call my bff, just for the sake of it. But none of them is truly my best friend. I had one once, but I eventually lost her because of my being possessive. Since then, I have feared engaging myself in a very convenient friendship, for fear that my ways couldn't resist the urge to argue again.

Same thing with family. If I get myself into a domestic squabble, even if I'd always want to quickly get out of it, I'd impetuosly draw more anger into it, and inadvertently end up being hurt and hurting them too. It's even scary how obloquious the arguments become, when all you initially wanted was just to explain yourself. And you still end up always misunderstood.

And don't you just know it when a certain person doesn't like you, even if you've only met once, or even if it's just another random stranger you crossed path with in the blogging world. Your guts just tell you when you're being annoying, although you know you couldn't be nicer, and had done nothing to offend them or their individuality.

Thank God that there are still people who choose to stick by me, and I'm no less than glad. I still don't think I'm that difficult of a person. I may be bitchy, but difficult? Overstatement. Hell, I even go out of my way just to be sincerely friendly, generous and forgiving, even if it means swallowing my monster pride. So the fact that I'm not likeable enough, and that there are still people who perceive me degradingly, somehow worries me. And it's quite pathetic that all I can do about it is swear, sometimes cry, and be my old pissed self.

I know this sounds like a Seventeen letter from a struggling highschooler, but whatever. I just had to get it off my chest. Damn, am I infuriated these past few days or what. Umm. I think I'm gonna need a beer. Now if you'll excuse me...

Fedtard attack!

2006-12-09T21:26:00.000-08:00

This post will go down as one of the bitchiest entries you could ever possibly read in this blog. I'm supposed to be done with getting pissed about it, since it's apparently not all that big of a deal, but I'm still not. And obviously, there's no better way for me to channel this overflowing fury other than to bitchwrite about it. So let's get this going.

Are you fuckin' kidding me?

Ok, first of all, I think Dwyane Wade is awesome. We all know the story about last season, and it was all great (yes, despite the phantom calls against my Mavs). But for him to be the recipient of this accolade sounds like a complete joke to my ears. Don't be misled though, I think the guy is a great basketball player, it's just that, my understanding of this award was it's supposed to be given to the best athlete slash sportsman in the world, on and off the court/field/ring, and there's no way I would have named Dwyane Wade that.

To start with, how can it be possible for Sports Illustrated not to give this then-prestigious recognition to somebody who's vastly dominating the sport of Tennis over the past three years? I mean, it can't be any clearer. Roger Federer IS the best athlete in the world today, and/or possibly EVER, and any sports analyst, who are in their right mind, would definitely agree with me, one way or another. He won three of the four slams this year, including Wimbledon for the FOURTH straight year, made the French Open finals, won more than 10 titles for the third consecutive year (open era record), cruised his way through his third Tennis Masters Cup title, and evidently, has just been leaving marks of his legacy in the history books.

And yet again, The 3-time US Open champ gets undeservingly snubbed by the American media.

"This award has always stood for more than the victory alone. It recognizes the manner of an athlete's striving and the quality of his or her efforts. Dwyane embodies that winning spirit by playing for his team, not himself, and by working in the community to ensure young people have the chance to realize their own dreams." - Sports Illustrated Group Editor, Terry McDonell ..... And you don't give the UNICEF Goodwill Ambassador the freakin' award??? Who are you kidding?!!

And honestly, Vince Young did more for the Longhorns than Wade for Miami. And it could've made more sense if the thing went to Lance Armstrong, who battled his way through cancer, or the New Orleans Saints' momentous comeback after the Katrina catastrophe. There's more out there than a commercially marketable Dwyane Wade, but unfortunately, the publication has turned a blind eye on it and refused to give recognition to the best athlete there is, nor even the most inspiring stories of the year.

But to end this animosity-filled entry, that only a few of you might understand anyway, let me go back to my enraged Fedtard attack... Roger Federer displayed three seasons of superiority and sheer perfection the world of sports hasn't seen in a long time. While Dwyane Wade, your Sportsman of the year, could barely hold an excellent playoff - in a team of five, with a coach on court, and officials who're accustomed of treating him like a baby.

Yes, I know all about Wade although I've never heard of him until the 2006 NBA Finals.

$300... to me or not to me?!!

2006-12-06T14:23:00.000-08:00

As I've said in the previous post, I only have $300 bucks to spare for gifts and ehem, personal indulgence. I'm not sure if it's enough for them, but then, it's not everyday that I get a grip on this otherwise handful amount of money to buy stuff for myself. Not that I'm being a selfish bitch, but I'm jobless, not one cent is registering in my lonely pocket, and godparents are apparently done with their respective giveaways. So dare I say that I want to splurge in these three pieces of benjamins?

But... FINE. I'll buy them presents, just whatever my money can afford. And the leftovers, granted that there'll be any, will all be mine...ugh, hopefully. But seriously, this is becoming extremely ludicrous already. I'm morphing into a money-hogging, super cantankerous monster over this unworthy predicament. I know! I know! Money shouldn't really make me sad, or antagonistic for that matter. I mean, it's just money, right? But for a jobless prick like myself, $300 bucks turns into a jackpot that only hits your couch-potato-ass once in a blue moon. It's a sudden gift from heaven, with little satan whispering in your left ear quite convincingly, "gratify yourfuckinself!". I'm sorry, I don't tend to be blasphemous, but you perfectly know what I'm talking about. It's basically giving vs. receiving. Or as Mr. Tursunov refers to breakfast, the battle of temptations vs. sensibility.

I'm laying this out here because I know that most of my blog friends aren't hypocritical, and most likely are torn in the exact same dilemma as me during this time. So please, just allow me to complain, as if I'll be eternally robbed of a chance to appease myself. For what it's worth though, all I really wanted was enough money to use for school and the activities (yes! those activities) when I get back on it. $300 may not be a lot, but for a student, a yet struggling one at that, it's a whole damn lot. And just so you know, I'm not a d-a-d-d-y kind of domestic princess (something to be proud of, at least!), hence this pathetic quandary.

On a completely irrelative note... Happy Birthday Ate Vayie! Haha, dare I call you that. :))

ETA: And since somebody has been invigoratingly inquisitive, I'll be explaining a couple of trivial things here, as he requested, even if it's remotely disconnected to the titular subject, and it means I'll only be wasting time and energy because nobody would even read this part of the post anymore. But since it's the holidays, and I'm supposed to be a giver, I'm gonna allow this idiot intrude my otherwise self-centered blog. Among the eurogeek's one-liners were: a) "Why do you keep changing your blog address? You know that I didn't enjoy looking for your fat ass!", b) "Since when did you like lullabies?" - pertaining to my recent choices for music here, and c) "Actually, Home Alone could have been the best choice. You just wanted to look at Ryan Reynolds on a daily basis, did you?"

OK. First of all, I've been changing my blog address quite habitually, reasons have varied overtime, but mostly, it was to get rid of some unwanted readers, and no, that does not include you, eventhough you called me a fat ass and it hurt...because it's true, so fuck you! Lullabies? I'm skipping that one. And yes, the guy's sixpack, even if covered, is worth my header space, than yours in my still functioning memory. I'm so glad I can embarrass you here. Harhar!

Naughty > nice. Pfft!

On the first day of Christmas...

2006-12-02T14:42:00.000-08:00

Damn, December's here! And in no time, I'll have to turn a year older again. But I'm not gonna dwell on that just yet. In fact, I'm pretty much thrilled by the approaching Christmas season. It's my favorite time of the year for the simple and very corny reason that most families gather in this occasion more than any other. Well, not that I'd normally care about others, but whatever. I just thought it's cool to think about it that way, besides the most anticipated part of scrapping the gift wrappers on Christmas morning.

And what better way to kick off the season but with snow! On a very rare event, this northern part of the state was slathered with snow two days ago (still November, word!), from morning til afternoon, and it never stopped. Boy, you can only imagine our sophomoric glee while watching the flakes cover our frontyard, as if it's getting any thicker than an inch. Haha!

My sometimes incosiderate mother though attempted to ruin our gaieties by asking us to Christmas-ized the house, inside and out, in the midst of a killer temperature. I'd normally bitch and be all "please, stop killing me!", but I'm practicing being patient right now, therefore, I just had to be the obedient daughter, even if watching the snow spread before my eyes was the perfect lazy day I've always dreamt of. I didn't have to do much though, since there's the little brother (who's literally big, btw) who's more than willing to climb slippery ladders and attach one electric extension to another, and a partridge in a pear tree. The finish product was more than satisfying anyway, and I'm proud to say that I took part in making the Christmas tree, oh yes! And there, we finally got our first ever PAROL!!! Now my mother stands a chance in winning that Deck The Halls-esque contest here in Valley Ranch. She's obsessed with decorating that even our indoor plants are now plastered with running lights. Seriously.

And since we're already talking Christmas, I thought I'd just ask you, my dear friends, for some wanted advice. I happen to be jobless, and with only more or less $300 in my pocket (seemingly impossible to buy 5 people quality gifts, but that's all I fuckin' have *sniffles*), I'm wondering what gift is best suitable for the greatest father on earth. I know, I'm too sweet! :)) My mother, who's my super best friend as you know, deserves a stupendous giveaway too, but unlike my father, she's very easy to pick a present for. Kindly help??? Just for my dad. I want to give him the best gift possible, even if it's under 50 bucks, hahaha, just kidding.

Ambak!

2006-11-28T17:21:00.000-08:00

*** Long entry ahead. If you can't devote a good 10-minute readfest of a Texan's escapade to California, and with major camwhorage in tow, then this particular post is not for you. Scaramoosh!

I was planning to blog while I was in California, but my aunt's AOL dial up service was helluva crap, for lack of a better word. I'm over and done with dial up, so to sit infront of that computer for more than 15 minutes would actually be very patient of me. Unfortunately, that's yet one trait I'm planning to list in my new year's resolution, hence the short hiatus. But I'm back! With a new blog address, blog title, template, stories, and everything else. Long story short, I just got tired of the old stuff. Back to story...

As you know, I finally got my much awaited vacay the past couple of weeks and I got to spend each day with no less than my family. Expectedly, it was fun, but I never thought I'd be exhausted by the 3rd day. We were always on the go, there was always something to be up to, and not one day for me to indulge myself in that tempurpedic bed. Not that I didn't have a choice, but I don't want to give them the cold shoulder, especially that they only get to see me once in a blue moon. Nevertheless, I had a ball, and hopefully everyone else also did.

The rundown.

Day 1: Eagle Rock Plaza is about a 2-mile walk away from my aunt's place, so we chose it as our first destination. It's pretty small, and its basement is stacked with Filipino people, shops, and fast foods. We had lunch at Jollibee, had my first Jolly Spaghetti in years, and you bet, I was in heaven. The mall also has Chowking, Goldilocks, Bench and a huge grocery store racked with Filipino goods. It's like strolling in Megamall on a random Sunday morning. Then off we go to Universal Studios after lunch. It was only the four of us, but we had fun, nonetheless. Super bonding time.

Jolly Spaghetti; Universal Studios overlooking San Bernardino; Bagets Reunion with Hailey
Day 3: Hollywood Blvd. We just cruised through it, kodak-ed here and there then left immediately. Had dinner at Max's Restaurant shortly after, with my parents' old classmates and the rest of the family. Sarap ng Crispy Pata, super na-miss ko!

Day 4: Off to Rancho Sta. Margarita to visit our favorite cousins. Traffic and travel time are torture but it was all worth it upon seeing our first pamangkin. Then to Irvine to visit a friend, and back to LA to celebrate Tita Tess' birthday.

Day 5: Then the actual celebration. It wasn't really a huge party, just family and some friends. My ninang from Fresno came over, and a few others. We also watched the Pacquiao match altogether, and you can only imagine how bizarrely exuberant their celebratory cheers were after the 15-minute payperview. Quite expensive, 'no? But whatever. After seeing the fight, and the priceless look on that rich boxer's face, I finally realized why it was so important for Filipinos to support this boastful man. No matter how yabang he gets, he still bleeds for the country, so there, I couldn't help but go patriotic and appreciative. Parang hindi bagay, 'no.

Day 6: Sunday, church day. After mass, we decided to eat In-n-Out for lunch, my first time! My people who've been in LA forever have been bragging about their burger for the longest time, so why not give it a try. But for real, it didn't taste any special. It's good, but the fries were even better. I still prefer Sonic's, and Whataburger's. But you know what's the best burger I've tasted? Tropical Hut's junior classic. Yep, that one back in the Philippines. To die fuckin' for! I'd give up a year without internet just to have one branch here in Texas. PLEASE!!! Branch internationally!!!

Day 7: It was all about Vegas. We left around noon, and arrived at about 4pm. Checked in at Aladdin, changed clothes and had dinner at Buffet @ Asia, then strolled the strip until 11pm. Papa and Auntie Rose still managed to go the Casino downstais and guess what? My dad won ten times his capital. Hahaha, I wish I had his powers. Woke up fairly early, had brunch at Spice Market Buffet, shopping at Prim, then back to LA before midnight.

Strolling the strip with Bo and Han; Breakfast camwhorage with Hailey; Thanksgiving beerfest
Day 7: Rodeo Drive. I wasn't really expecting to see a celebrity since it's like a tourist spot now more than anything, but I saw a couple, a B-list and a G-list, I guess, hehe. I was in the same elevator ride as Jon Lovitz, and I was standing next to Eugena of ANTM Cycle 7 in the valet parking. Seriously, of all the celebrities in the world, I got to see those two. How lucky!

Day 8: Thanksgiving. I really don't prefer celebrating tradional American holidays, but whatev, it was all in good fun. I almost did nothing that day though. Just rested, fixed my suitcase, and drank a little. And ate my Chowking siomai to go.

Day 9: Back to Eagle Rock Plaza for Black Friday. It was my first time to shop at Macy's, and boy do they have quality clothes there. Too bad I only got one piece because of my luggage space left, and this sweater I badly wanted had no tag on it that I couldn't bring it home. Eff it! Good thing there was Jollibee for lunch, I was calmed. Hahaha! Then Kristine Hermosa and Anne Curtis invaded the Filipino grocery. I happen to be an avid viewer of these Tagalog soap operas, but I never intend to be a so-called fan of theirs to actually line up and ask for their autographs. My mom, my aunt and my cousin were otherwise. They like Anne so much that they just had to squeeze into the day-off crowd and take pictures. Then guess what. This random manong comes up to me and says, "maputi lang sila, at may make-up, mas maganda ka pa sakanila, magpapayat ka lang", hahaha, the old guy just had to compliment this fatgirl to vent out his frustrations of not getting his poster signed. Nambola pa! Bwiset.

Day 10: We went to Griffith Park the previous night to see the light show which was jampacked that it got us home at around 10pm. Went to bed at almost midnight, woke up at 3am, to the airport and left Los Angeles at 6:15. What a crazy hour to fly. Seriously. But for some reason, it was a huge relief to see good ol' Texas again. Such a breath of fresh air.

Can you imagine, it's been two weeks, exactly this time, since the time that I was enjoying McDo's famous fries, waiting for boarding time en route to LAX. Man, how time flies so damn fast. Holidays are here, the ones I normally celebrate. Then I turn a year older, and funtimes will soon be over.

Target Shopper Saga

2006-11-14T03:36:00.000-08:00

Is it wrong to feel irate towards perhaps unintentional naivete? Well, I was talking to a friend an hour ago and she was telling me how she just learned that a black nail polish exists on earth. Seriously? I was guilelessly shocked. Like, have you been to the moon?? I admit I wasn't too kikay before, but I sure knew about that. But of course, as a semi-forbearing friend, I had to be artificially benevolent, hence my stubtle "really, how come?" response. Totally reminds me of one tennis player who had the exact same predicament. And guess what? They just knew about it because Chanel just recently had it. And they get it for what, $18/bottle? Ha! As if that's really worth some muscles shaping a surprised face. That's equivalent to 18 bottles at the dollar store! But seriously, is that just stupid or what? You can't even tell 'em apart so what gives. It is just because it's Chanel, that you convince yourself that you just learned about it lately? Don't let me mislead you though, I absolutely have no reason to be this irritated. But I just couldn't help but cringe over the obvious absurdity. $18?!!?! *scoffs*

Since I'm at it... I've decided to get rid of this Louis Vuitton suitcase my mother bought me a couple of years ago. I only used it once, and although it looks really good and the quality's even better, it's still got "LV" written all over it which gradually morphed into a K-Fed sighting for me--extremely annoying. I'm not even sure if it's 100% authentic, well not that I'd care anyway. Plus, I saw those kids from Laguna Beach all having the exact same thing. That alone could end my 26-hour-travel relationship with it. Haha, seriously. It's already too much. As to a song, overplayed. You know what I mean.

This is actually one of the many subjects I often battle with my mom over. But the contrast is pretty obvious, she has the job and I don't. So I'd often prefer buying a lot in a small amount of money, than just get a couple of things that would eternally inject me with guilt, 'cause she always pays. Not that I loathe branded goods, I in fact know that their qualities are the best, hence the ridiculous price tags. But I'm just not the kind who'd want to spend fortunes only for say, a pair of Cole Haans, when I can get the same quality at the mall for a more advantageous purchase. For someone who doesn't earn a lot, or doesn't earn anything at all, luxuriating in that magnitude is the last thing in my to-do list. But eventhough I apprehend practicalness that way, I know I should also recognize the fact that the better quality of item I get, the longer it stays with me. So I'm not really completely refraining myself from them branded stuff, just that the item has to be reasonable. Reasonable as in generally affordable.

And the practice starts... My first ever pair of chuck taylors.
My brother, who has the same perception as my mom's, has been convincing me forever to buy myself chucks instead of splurging in cheap shoes and boho slippers I get at Payless Shoestores or Target all for not more than 50 buckaroos. And since I'm on this self-made therapy to become a girly-girl, I always shrugged off his brainwashing, until an irresistable sale at Kohl's this past weekend. I was actually there to buy Bongo flats but my being practical hit me between two eyes. I'll be doing a lot of walking this week, so I decided to finally agree with him, and get a pair of my own. I'm not really a trend follower but these fit me comfortably and it doesn't look bad at all. I know, I have giant feet ala McDo. Wouldn't really translate very well if I were testosteroned, right?. Hahaha, but I digress. :)) At least I finally got something that's relatively cheap and that will last.

So anyway. I have tennis to watch right now (it's live from Shanghai, what the hell, haha), then I'll make breakfast, manually heat a bucket of water since this house's waterheater is totally unreliable at the moment, take a suicidal shower, get dressed, do my hair, beautify my face, last-minute packing, watch last night's Studio 60, make lunch/merienda/dinner, eat, brush teeth, call a cab, 15-minute travel to airport, wait for boarding, and leave for Los Angeles. I'll be there 10pm PT, and it sucks because I'll be missing a presumably good Mavericks game. Nevertheless, I ask you to please pray for my safety, as I'll do with yours. *winks*

Finally!

2006-11-08T08:43:00.000-08:00

I was itching to blog the past couple of days but nausea kept me out of it. I think an Aleve overdose caused it, or this vanilla tylenol I tried two nights back. But whatever, I'm just so glad that my swollen gum, caused by the beastial wisdom tooth, is gradually leaving my piehole at peace. I'm finally enjoying food once again, and my 3-pounder gain was proof of that. Not that I'm happy about that! But heck, as long as I can luxuriate in food again, hehehe.

So it's exactly 6 days from today before my much awaited vacay to California. I know, I've been bitching about the idea of moving there, but much to my disgust of that concept, I still like that place. That being said, I only like California as a vacation spot, not a place for me to suffer in for the rest of my life. I've sited my reasons quite precisely already, so let me not go there again. I'm excited though! It's been a couple of years since the last time I saw my favorite cousins, and there's my cute little niece waiting for me to finally cuddle her. I also have a ninang from Fresno whom I've never met, but kept in touch with. Can you believe that she gave me 10k pesos just for a concert??? I know, she owes me that much, but damn, she loves me too much to give me $200 only for a musical showcase, right? Haha. I'm not really that materialistic, but with a moneyed godmother, I'll be a hypocrite if I say that I don't anticipate what she's got instored for me. Hahaha! Just kidding. :P

I can't help but blog about this... Spederline is dunzo!!! OMG. Finally! I'm not really that big of a fan of Britney's, but I just loathe K-Fed so much that this news brought delight to my nauseous system. He sooo had it coming, but I still can't believe it took her sooo long to file for divorce! Nevertheless, this is worth rejoicing. Now let the Britney + Justin rumors begin. :))

EDIT: Women on The View celebrated with waves of confetti. Hahahaha! Fiesta ito!

ETA: Random snapshots I saw while reading my daily sports news. Just thought I'd share...

Maria Sharapova is officially the luckiest bitch in the world!

AND LOOK!

THE HOTTEST PRACTICE SESSION ON EARTH!!! *squee*
Finally! After two long years, they're on the same court again. Heck, who cares if it's not an actual match, haha. But dare I say this... I want Rafa and Roddick for Tennis Masters Cup Finals. I'm so sick of Rogelio's domination! He's too perfect! Somebody gotta take him down!

OK. That's VERY random, haha! Have a grandiose weekend, my friends! Be smiling. :)

California vs. Texas

2006-11-04T21:48:00.000-08:00

My wisdom tooth is soaked in excruciating pain that it now has its own heartbeat. No kidding! But as I was watching That's The Question last night, I learned that there's a certain part of the brain that has its own anesthetic capability which would seemingly work when you don't think about the ache that registers your body. I know, that can't be serious, right? But it actually works. Once in a while. Just like Aleeve. But not really the eternal remedy I was hoping for.

Anyway, let's forget about this bastardly denture for a second, shall we? I've been thinking about this dilemma my mother, and this whole family, are presently facing. Well, it's not really a dilemma since I'm the only one who's entirely against the idea, but I'm pretty much on point, contrary to the rest. Allow me to fill you in.

My mom got a call from Cedar Sinai Medical Center last Monday. Suri Cruise, those Spederline kids, Kingston Stefani-Rossdale. Ring a bell? Yes. That Hollywood hospital. She could've landed a job there long before we moved to Texas, but she chose to be committed to her agency at that time. But since her ties with it, and Children's Medical Center, are soon to be unattached, she's been contemplating on which hospital she would rather spend the rest of her professional life in. She's obviously enthused by the Cedar Sinai opportunity, and although I'm pretty confident that she already has this in the bag, I still can't quite imagine myself living in a city like Los Angeles. Permanently. Unless I choose to be left here in Dallas. Forgive the skepticism, but I seriously have some issues.

We've been out of apartments for almost a year now, and I'm not one who'd take the risk of leaving this beautiful house in exchange of a 2-bedroom, fifteen-hundred-dollar apartment in Hollywood. Plus, this location can't get any more convenient. We're literally minutes away from the post office, gas station, interstate freeway, schools, church, a lane stacked with restaurants and fast food chains, Walmart, Target, mini malls, etc. This place is effin' awesome! That's why I can't be puzzled enough by their, my dad's specially, obsession over this whole moving idea. I mean, it was OK before 'cause we didn't have to tow furnitures with us, and we traveled not via land, but this is a totally different story. And I never imagined busting my ass driving a U-haul from one state to another. So please!

Family, yadda yadda yadda. Sure, it's definitely funner spending Holidays with the rest of the clan. I'm not that insensitive to not cognize the comfort of having people you know best in the same vicinity as you are. But how about being practical for once? Los Angeles isn't the best place on earth for a family like ours who's only halfway through being completely stable. If we're already jousting over tax payments in a state that only commands Federal tax, how much more if we move to a place where there's Federal, city, county, state, and all else? Let alone the cost of living, the percentage of interest I have to pay when I loan for college, and just about everything in that superstar expensive city that'd ruthlessly torture our bank books.

Okay, I might be a little too overreacting, but you get the drift. I've gotten used to the type of living here in Texas and it would take a lot to shift gears YET again. Here, everything's humbly cheap (well, compared to LA), there's the equally diverse community, time zone is PERFECT, and we get the four seasons. Even snow on lucky winters. But obviously, my point is beyond making snowballs during Christmas time. It's about gambling this more than contented life we're all zesting at the moment, for something so trivial as being in the same state as family. Yes, I said trivial, not big enough of a reason to me. Why? Because I'd rather spend a 500-dollar ticket to California every summer to see them all, than inescapably slap my face with traffic, stupid celebrities on the streets and ridiculous bills I can't even afford to pay.

I'm so glad I'm a Capricorn. It sometimes pays to be inevitably practical. But hey, I'm only one-fourth of this family and I don't make the decision alone. So... insha allah!

What's up, vanilla face?

2006-11-02T15:21:00.000-08:00

I missed it for the world! It could have been my very first giving-away-candies experience for this particular holiday (since kids wouldn't drop by apartments before, sosyal sila e), but I missed it. I was half naked upstairs when I heard the bell ring and the collective excited squee - "twick or tweat!!!" - but obviously, I didn't wanna give them horror at its best by running downstairs with my bouncing watermelons partly covered and pretend that it's just any other ordinary costume. So I just had to pass. And much to my luck, those kids (a group of 10 or so, per my mom) were the first and last group of treat-or-treaters that knocked our door. Well, it's chilly that night so I have to be the mature adult to understand, right? Fine. There's always a next year. I'll get over it, don't worry.

Anyway.

I've been seeing BORAT everywhere! From The Today Show, to Letterman, even at this morning's Kid Kraddick radio show. Seriously, he's frickin' everywhere! Well, can't blame his commodity, his movie's trailer is one of the funniest shit I've seen in years, what more in its entirety. It should be good. Quite depicts yet another pop culture phenomenon, following the carved comedic footsteps of say, Napoleon Dynamite.

Please come see my film. If it not success, I will be execute. HAHAHAHA!

On another random blab.

I'm not sure about this but aren't all wisdom teeth supposed to be already in place once you turn 18? Well, I'm already past that age, obviously, and I still have my lower right struggling to surge out the surface. It did hurt multiple times before, but it'd take a long break once in a while. But it still hurts so fuckin' bad every single time! I can't even eat properly. Is this normal? I think I need help again from my blogging physicians/nurses. Does this problem frequently happen to mankind, or am I the only one? Help! I want to enjoy my food again. :(

By the way, I hope y'all attended mass or at least prayed for your beloved departed ones.

Enjoy Friday, everyone. :)

Weekstartrants.

2006-10-30T13:19:00.000-08:00

Eating out after hearing mass has been the usual routine every Sunday, but now that my brother and I aren't babies anymore, and there's no more Jolly Spaghetti hovering our tastebuds, eating out has now become a weekly debate for my family. The battle of what's in the fridge vs. a 20/30 dollar ticket to a decent breakfast. This Sunday was no different. We already ran out of sausage patties and hashbrows, and I was too lazy to prepare anything, and besides, I was dripping saliva over this breakfast burito from Sonic (my favorite fastfood, as you know) for the longest time. But since it's the end of the month (no cash and useless plastics), we had to look for somewhere else cheaper (if Sonic wasn't cheap enough). Then cruised Krispy Kreme. I love it there, got the best doughnuts in the world, but sometimes when you've had too much of it, especially for breakfast, it doesn't feel indulgent anymore. But hey, I haven't had it for months, I was freakin' starved and it's Sunday - which Papa God approved to put a red light to whatever we're doing, and I guess my controlled-eating-habit is no exception to that - so I gave in. I walked in to the heavenly aroma of coffee and caramel, snatched my freebie, and told the lady that I'm going to take a couple of dozens. I was ready to pick whichwhich, when these creepy yet enticing pumpkin-faced doughnuts immediately invaded my sight and were loudly singing to me in chorus. I just had to get it!!! Ugh, thank God it's Sunday! :)) And since Krispy Kreme is kinda cheap, I was thinking of working it on Trick-or-Treaters, but unfortunately, I already have candies, lollipops and chocolates in a basket waiting for them, and doughnuts will only add more damage to their choppers. Too bad, but the last thing I want for Halloween is some mother kicking my front door because her kid received monster sweet treats from a fat lady. Uh-uh, not happening.

My cute little niece, Hailey, celebrated her first birthday this weekend (today's her actual birthday). This is just one of those many occasions when you can only wish that Texas to California is as convenient as a 4-peso jeepney ride from Cainta to Cubao. Seriously! I can't believe I'm missing out on Hanny's whole motherhood thing. The last time I saw her, she was still single, and that was just a couple of years ago. Yeah, and now I'm already a bonafide auntie-ninang. Ha, look how rapid the freakin' calendar flips. And I still don't have a new boyfriend!!! Well, not that I wanted a baby too, but I think she's enjoying life so much more than I am. Anyway, three more weeks til I get to snuggle them. Super kakagigil. :p

I just got John Mayer's new album. LOVE IT. LOVE IT. LOVE IT. Vultures has got to be my favorite cut. Well, it's collectively good stuff - amazing lyrics, the falsetto is exceedingly sexy, and the guitars in there are just INSANE!!! Imagining his orgasmic guitar face while repeatedly listening to it kinda helps too, hahaha. It's really good. Go get it!

That's it for me this October. How time flies so fast, man. I remember back in the Philippines, around this time, my friends and I would spend a Saturday night altogether watching the yearly spooky episode of Magandang Gabi Bayan with a big bowl of yakisoba, then off we go to various parties ala Lindsay Lohan. Hayy, it just never gets boring back home. Oh well. If ever this house becomes a pitstop for trick-or-treaters, I promise to bring some pictures. I just hope I don't scare them and think that I'll auction them off eBay, haha. Advance Happy Halloween!

Sinwagon

2006-10-27T13:45:00.000-07:00

It's been three years, but I've never paid a handful amount of attention to this certain controversy up until the trio showed up on my tv again on a Wednesday's Oprah. I don't dislike them. I happen to love some of their songs, but that's just how far it goes. I never said I was a country music fan to begin with, but nevertheless, these women's tenacious and rightful bluntness towards their nation's erroneous happenings were something noteworthy. In fact, I think Natalie kicked so much ass for basically saying that President Bush, with all due respect, is-was-always-will-be a piece of shit. It's really not that hard to say, but with the backlash that parked her frontdoor... Man, ow, man. Seemed like speech's vested freedom never existed.

For those of you who are still clueless about what I'm yabbering about, I'm talking about the Dixie Chicks. A grammy-winning bluegrass trio who apparently spoke disrespectfully of this country's president. Quote-unquote, "Just so you know, we're ashamed the President of the United States is from Texas". Burn!!! Fifteen words that immediately leaped half of this shallow country in an idiosyncratic sphere, with a repercussion that was beyond nightmare. Album sales dropped, poor concert ticket sales, avid supporters devotedly boycotted them, and even obscene death threats conquered their living-the-dream superstar status.

To despise them is one thing, but to insensately damage their characters - permanently and without limits, just for the partially irrational reason that they said it on foreign soil - is purely overreacting. I may understand that it was too unorthodox for politically conservative Southerners to hear three open-minded girls speak their minds like they did, especially in regards of their country's misguidance. But to smother them with verbal destruction and traitor-treatment ENDLESSLY is just too bestial for bearing. I can't even imagine how they've managed to go on with their lives despite the unfathomable jungle they trapped themselves into. Gee. I must've nailed my liver with a butcher knife or something. And although I may agree that as public figures, and role models, they might have acted otherwise unpleasantly, their compatriots still automatically discounted that these women are in fact human too, with a prerogative to say what their smarts urge them to express.

So what if their combative opinions were uttered on foreign soil? It's not like they purposely blasted Bush in UK, a country by the way that even helps the US in jeopardy. And it's oceans apart from Iraq, I'm pretty sure they knew the difference. So was that reasoning suppose to add more fuel to the fire? Pfft. Nevermind. Makes me think about how much Filipinos in this country execrate the dirty politics back in the Philippines, and how brazen we are in belittling (no pun intended) the president. Do you think that even if we forever bag on her flaws as a leader, here in a foreign country no less, we'll ever be cussed as traitors? I never thought so.

And that's the harsh reality of being in the public eye. You're instantly robbed of the power to utilize the freedom that was given to mankind to think open-mindedly and be considerably outspoken. Unfortunately for the Dixie Chicks, they had to suffer the humiliating behaviour besetting their individualities and had to be sidelined for what seemed to be the longest three years of their lives. But what the hell! They're BACK!!! And still not ready to make fuckin' nice.

Being "dysfunctional"

2006-10-25T11:06:00.000-07:00

For me, the term 'dysfunctional' is nothing but itself. It's only a word that's often used to describe inexplicably difficult families or those of which you normally see readily bicker over unworthy stuff right on the sacred dinner table. But tell me, aren't all families like that? Not in my 2 decades of existence have I seen a family so perfect. Even our neighbors back in Manila, who I initially thought exhibited such harmony within them, would be heard cursing at each other in Ilocano from time to time. Even my family isn't all that unruffled. Trust me, this house transforms into an African jungle in no time during a wild bitchfest. But eventhough fights like that truly exist, I just can't help but find it oddly cute and funny how family can patch things up quite so easily, even without apologies exchanged. I mean, it's not that easy to be making peace with friends, right? But how come with family it comes organically effortless?

Then insert this movie appealingly titled, Little Miss Sunshine. It has been in my movie queue for the longest time, and at last, I was granted time and a free ticket to see it yesterday. Minus the fact that I'm a big Steve Carell fan, I was more intrigued by the plot's dark yet delightful comedy about the Hoover family and their misfortuned roadtrip to this certain beauty pageant, the titular subject. Olive (Abigail Breslin), an average girl from Albuquerque, has been wanting to enter the said contest for years, and when finally given the chance, her family of misfits decides to accompany her via a cross-country adventure to California, needless to say, with innumerable mishappenings. With her are her father Richard (Greg Kinnear), an unsuccessful motivational speaker who disgusts losers, her heroin-snorting and pageant-coach Grandpa (Alan Arkin), her gay Uncle (Steve Carell) who recently committed suicide, her non-speaking brother Dwayne (Paul Dano) who took a vow of silence before entering flight school, and her mother Sheryl (Toni Collette), who cares about family above anything else. In a rusty aged van which works as flawlessly as their relationships, the trip was anything but pretty as they'd hoped for. But along the way -- although petty fights, and unexpected events have taken place -- they found a way to unite as a family and resolve things, sometimes, without even saying a word.

What I like most about this movie is that it's enjoyably moving without being theatrically dramatic. It will dab your emotions quite strongly but not in the sense that it'd make you cry. If anything, the film's surprisingly undisguised humor is what would definitely drive you to tears in laughter. Acting is equally amazing. I don't think there's a better collected cast than this. Overall, this feature simply exudes everything a moviegoer wants in a satisfying bargain - a clear and unpretentious story-telling and acting without being over the top. I can honestly say that this one's just perfect for my tastebuds. Let alone that it stars one of my favorite actors, and that it conveys a story that's very easy to relate to and a reality check that's comforting to admit.

Literally, the word 'dysfunctional' refers to a subject that can never function, or a frequent failure of its purpose. But to me, the word's use has obviously now morphed into a new synonym of 'normal' whenever pertains to family. I don't want to believe that family can forever be tainted with faults, fury, hatred, and anything else negative. Instead, I embrace family -- although unmanageable at times -- as the only one I have in the world, through prosperous and unhealthy times of life. Therefore, upon seeing this movie, it only reaffirmed one thing. And that's the fact that being a member of a so-called dysfunctional family is actually indeed normal.

I just got bang'd!

2006-10-22T14:26:00.000-07:00

I know, couldn't have gotten a worse title than that. But look who's sporting a new do. I finally feel like a woman who cares how she looks like. And I effin' like it! But you know me, I was all that contented with how my hair was done on a daily basis, so I still had to literally streetfight with my mom before she got me to this urgent and totally nonessential haircut. We only went out to apply for a state ID replacement, and the next think I know, I'm already in the queue of makeovers. I was pissed! She knew I was rushing home to catch a tennis match, but she still insisted. Mahirap magpalaki ng magulang, so I just had to say yes, even after embarrassingly telling the hairdresser that I have to look good when I go to California to see movie stars. Trust me, that's not really my purpose. I ended up apologizing and thanking her anyway, because I think I look better now that the ponytail days are over. And the new bangs!!! Haha. Very Tina Paner.

I still made it to Rafa's quarterfinals match (this was last Friday, btw). I wasn't exactly pleased with the end result, nor by his opponent's celebratory arrogance. But it was entirely entertaining, to say the least. Perhaps it was Becks' absence that caused Rafa's uninspired tennis (the bromance, you know? lol), or maybe because Sergio let his Jennifer-Aniston-hair down that it easily became a distraction. Or it could be me. You know what, I think I jinxed him. Haha. You see, everytime I mention him in this blog, in the middle of a tourney, he always chokes. I think it happened 3 times now, in a row. Plausible, right? Maybe if I mention Federer, he could lose too? Just kidding.

So to compensate my frustration with Nadal's recurrent crappy tennis, ATP provided me with this photo of (L-R) Iker, Raul, Rafa, Sergio (thanks for the beanie), and Becks. ATP, you're awesome but nobody's worth of this collective Eurohotness. It's just too much!!! Ok, enough of the fangirl squee-ing. I just got a new do, so I now have to act accordingly.

Bakit kayo nagsisiksikan sa Madrid? Maluwag dito!
Onto other stories...

In less than a month's time, I'll be somewhere else, window shopping, strolling the strip, and endlessly chatting with an aunt whom I've not seen for the past 15 years. My memories of her though stayed clear over time, and our communication never waned, so hopefully I won't have problems being comfortable with and around her when I get there. After all, she's the same person who convinced me repeatedly that I'm a girl, not the kind who's socially allowed to collect matchboxes. And she even wanted me to be Little Ms. Philippines. I could have given Aiza Seguerra a run for her money, but I rejected the offer. Hahaha. We got our tickets yesterday, and looks like it'll be an 11-day escapade. Finally! A real vacation. Wardrobe for travel would be quite something to think about though, since weather here and there are as dissimilar as their timezones. The hours of our departure and arrival don't help either. Imagine, I woke up to 37°F this morning, without the heater and waterheater on. Man, this isn't normal. It feels like I'm in Colorado or something. Not even funny, and it's only October! But I know that coldfront there isn't as bad as this place's, and I'm sure they always have the heaters on whenever necessary, unlike here where they want to conserve energy as much as weather's still tolerable. Whatever.

On another very random note... I weighed in last night before going to bed, and it said that I lost 6 pounds from my last weigh-in. Of course I was instantly in cloud 9. My no-rice campaign is slowly paying off. Then when I woke up, guess what, I gained a couple of them damn pounds back. Huh?!! I only slept for about 6-7 hours and I got fatter. This is what we normally call a "what the fuck" moment. Seriously, that's just a pretty bemusing way to start my week off.

Randomgasms.

2006-10-19T19:52:00.000-07:00

I know I have nurses, physicians, whathaveyous, reading this blog, so just one query. Is there something wrong with emptying your bladder once, twice or more within an hour? I was couch-potato-ing this afternoon, enjoying a Rafael Nadal match when I subconsciously would run for my life to the bathroom every now and then. I never sat on something hot as what would normally cause a balisawsaw, nor have I been drinking too much water. It's kinda weird. Not that it's hurting or something. Just bothers me a little bit.

Look who's watching! Maybe this caused my pee problems? Ugh! Rafa + BECKS = suicidal hotness.

Anyway. I ONCE AGAIN changed my template. I've been trying to make one that I won't get tired of looking at, and I sure hope this is it. As Tani have said, I seem to be making my blog over and over again. And I know it sort of annoys some of you already. Trust me, I sincerely wish to stop right here. At least for the next couple of months. :p

Project Runway season 3 concluded last night. It was nice to see the collections completely, and I must say that Uli's set was just...ugh, PERFECTION! I'm so glad she didn't use prints in all 12 pieces, but man, that was some mad skills! I won't take back whatever I said about Jeffrey though. I didn't think he had the best collection out there, nor did I ever consider him to be the best out of the final four, but being ambitious takes you to new heights, hence his victory. I'll say I'm a bit upset, not that I didn't expect it, but it could have ended in a better fashion.

Don't worry Uli, if I ever (God willing) get my shape back, I will definitely hunt you down. It will take a while, but you can absolutely count on that. Here are my favorite pieces from your drop dead gorgeous collection. I still feel bad because you should have won, you clearly were the best, and YOU DIDN'T GO OVER BUDGET. But hey, I'll soon get over it. It's only reality TV!

And onto more random stuff...

My mom had a strange dream. She was like, "nanaginip ako, ang payat mo na daw!". I could only laugh my ass off, while of course, kind of wishing at the back of my head that it comes true. I was told though that when you talk about what you dreamt of, it won't happen in reality ever. Man, aren't dreams suppose to come true anyhow? I don't wanna be fat for the rest of my life! :))

It's been really cold lately, and rumor has it that it might snow this year. I looooove snow, because it makes me feel like I'm in America, not Mexico. OK, that's a joke, before you go bonkers on me. So weather this year has been pretty much similar to what it was a couple of years ago. VERY hot summer, but equally freezing fall-winter. And it snowed that time! But snow tends to be a little unfriendly though, especially when you're driving. I remember one time actually seeing a couple of cars clash into each other by the corner stoplight, exactly how it is in funpark bumpcars. Yikes! Regardless of that, I still hope to experience it again. I never had my picture taken on it, so I'm still waiting for that second chance. Let is snow!!! Too early to ask for snow, or as if this state is prone to that kind of weather. Pfft.

I needed to be random after that "Maalala Mo Kaya"-ish post. Back to my old jubilant self, and enough of the dramachoos. I'll be visiting your blogs after posting this, then I'll head to bed, for I'll continue drooling over Rafa's hotness tomorrow. Hahaha. Have a gradioso weekend, my friends!

Mi Mama Drama

2006-10-16T06:08:00.000-07:00

I was 3 years of age when I saw a random woman canoodling with my dad. I sat in a corner, screamed repeatedly at the top of my lungs, and interminably bawled my eyes out. Little did I know that this random person was no less than my own mother. She came to me with tears uncontrollably plastering her cheeks, desperately convincing me that she was her. I think I believed her, but that's all I could dig in my memory. I can't remember anything afterso.

My mom left me when I was 1. She decided to work in the middle east contrary to their plans of moving here in the states in the mid-80s. Earlier on, I didn't understand why would she pick a place completely unfamiliar to her, let alone without her husband and her newborn by her side, whereas she had an open ticket to the west side where her college friends and some relatives reside. I never knew why, not that I asked, but whatever her reason was, it only brought the family good things. But I guess, myself excluded.

She gave us everything...clothes, money, gadgets, and her presence. But still, I found a way to make her feel that she was a worthless mother. I started going out when I was 15, going home late even at school nights, hanging out until the wee hours of the morning during weekends, sleepovers left and right, party, disco, smoke, booze, all but illegal drugs. It went on for about 3 years, until I was kicked out of high school. It was one incident that could only wake me up, and at the same time, successfully target my goal...her misery. My mom came home that March in hopes of seeing me graduate, but on our ride home from the airport, of all places, I knew I just had to let her know. "Ma, hindi ako ga-graduate", her reaction was plainly heartbreaking. She didn't yell at me, never cursed, but looked devastatingly flabbergasted. I cried upon entering my room that night, although I never planned or wished to, but the inevitable realizition hit me hard in the head. Rebellion wasn't the perfect way to let her feel what I wanted her to feel. I could have been more respectful of who she really is in my life, and what she does for me. But I didn't.

Now, when we occasionally discuss it, she can't help but plague herself with guilt, which is painfully unjust and depressively unbearable for me. I know I'm responsible for making her feel that way, but it was all my fault. For all I know, she was wiping indian-food-smelling asses of baby Arabs just so she could bring us the best of life. And I only put it all to waste. I felt sorry, I was and still am sorry, but I had no idea how to make it up to her. In my quietest ways though, I managed to quit smoking, abandon party-ing, and continue on with school. For her and myself, I've grown to be a better woman, and a completely different person. With all the mishappenings in my life, and the lessons it hauled, and eventhough it doesn't sound right, I have her to thank for everything. She might have been away most of my time, but that wasn't cessation enough for her not to become the best mother she could possibly be for me and my brother. And for that, I'm forever sorry that I brought her tears over time, and that she wasn't blessed with the perfect daughter she dreamed to have. But hey, God is awesome. We're together now, happy as can be, and I just can't wait to spend the rest of my life with her.

Happy Birthday, Mama!

The Departed

2006-10-14T13:21:00.000-07:00

They only went to grocery shop while I was menacingly dusting off my rifle in anxiety, thinking all along that they left me to watch The Departed. So I hold myself responsible for tainting my dad's and brother's wondrous image, lol. We were supposed to see the movie either Wednesday or Thursday, but things didn't go as planned. But luckily for us, my dad cut off worktime just so we could finally see it. See, got the best father in the world, hehe.

Action movies though don't attract me instantaneously, especially when the trailer only provides one-note brutality instead of variety. But once I'm at it, I'd always find myself cracking my knuckles brought by its intensity as well as laughing bersekly at the feature's sadistic humor. Just like with Pulp Fiction, Kill Bill, these movies which weren't even a part of my movie queue before but grew to be classic favorites the minute I laid my comprehension on it. The Departed, on the other hand, intrigued me not because of its premise rather by its ensemble ~~gorgeousness~~ cast, not to mention, Martin Scorsese's directorial juices. And so, to be in an interested disposition, I placed myself a row below where my dad and brother were seated, so I could feast on the actors' collective hotness, and at the same time thoroughly absorb every ounce of story being told. I actually had the row to myself until a couple of blondies seated by my far left. Not that I was very displeased, but they were a little misbehaved, eating their chips like a starving homeless dude would, and they'd flippantly squee everytime a hunk's on screen. Nevertheless, I wouldn't let them be a significant hindrance to my most awaited viewing pleasure.

Story centers on a couple of South Boston natives, William "Billy" Costigan (Leonardo DiCaprio) and Colin Sullivan (Matt Damon) who both are serving as spies (or 'rats' as what they're being dubbed as) to the Massachusetts State Police Department and to the demonic Irish mafia chief Frank Costello (the brilliant Jack Nicholson), respectively. Sullivan who grew up with the mobster was tossed to the police academy to eventually be in the elite group of officers who are in the mission of pursuing the mafia, particularly his 'dad'. Meanwhile, Costigan, who was a police academy dropout, and also who has real family ties with Costello, was assigned by Oliver Queenan (Martin Sheen) and his hot-headed deputy, Dignam (Mark Wahlberg) to infiltrate the Irish gang. As the two rats' double lives were completely filtered by lies, brutality, and strenuous eagle-eye-ing, both of their camps concurrently figured that they have spies within their teams. And in such an event, both Sullivan and Costigan were appointed to find their own rats in opposing sides.

It's quite a trick though, like both leads were counter-casted, because prior to watching this movie, I expected Matt to be playing the innocent good guy while Leo as the grungy and arrogant one. But unsurprisingly, both executed their characters, Matt as the slick dickwad and Leo as the sacrificial lamb, almost perfectly. These two might have stolen the whole feature with their acting prowess, but Jack Nicholson's effortless satanic expressions as well as Mark Wahlberg's solid jerkbag performance are definitely worth the mention. With that said, I believe that this without a doubt is one of the best films this year. Second best in my book. If you enjoyed films like Pulp Fiction or Goodfellas (a Scorsese classic I have yet to see), then you will most likely want to see this one. It will certainly grind your knee joints in suspense, and potentially crack you up with its comedic panache.

Worst Wednesday '06

2006-10-11T10:48:00.000-07:00

Perhaps in Boracay, it's about 95°F, fairly sunny and breezy at the same time, with maybe a couple of bikini-clad college bombshells toasting glasses filled with mango margarita. Sounds fun, should be fun. But weather here, as you may know, is already changing up. Scorching and irritating hot days are finally over. And I can't be happier. But waking up at 7:15am when you've only had 4 hours of sleep is no joke, especially when you feel like it's snowing outside when it's remotely not.

So anyway, instead of resuming my suspended dream, I hurriedly got up when I heard my dad getting ready to go to Dallas to pick up my mom, and told him to wait for me, I'll only get a jacket, and I'll go with him. He laughed because he knew what caused the panic. It was this freakin' fat ghost I saw in the kitchen at 12:30am last night which naturally freaked me out. Ok, you might think I'm totally hallucinating because of the ghost stories I've been hearing lately, but I know I saw something in there. I was prepping to go upstairs when I overlooked the kitchen and boom, there it was. Seeing a ghost is scary enough, but imagine how scarier it was to see one without a head! Jesus. And I'm not making this up, it really had no head!!! And so I calmly walked for my dear life towards my dad who was already lying in bed downstairs and yelled for my brother to come down. Told them both what I saw, and expectedly, they poked fun at me. Whatever. I really saw something, and boy I wish that this effin' ghost makes a surprise appearance right infront of their eyes so I could laugh at them too. Hysterically, no less.

Upon coming out the door, I immediately ran into the car because of the freezing weather, and unsure of what exactly the temperature was, my dad was counting down the thermometer inside the car. It started with 70°F inside the garage, and quickly changed to 65°F in the driveway. We were like idiots counting the temp down, haha, 63, 62, 61, 60!!! My dad's child-like reaction to the coldfront was priceless, haha, as if he doesn't experience this every year. And it didn't stop there! The countdown went on and stopped right at 56°F. Damn, it was cold. And with my dad's enthusiasm over the cold weather (babaw, ano?), he refused to turn on the heater and even opened his window. And mind you, he was only wearing a T-SHIRT! I was just like, Papa, I know you're loving this, but your daughter's right here. Shaking!!!

On our way home was a different story. My mom, who HATES fall and winter unhesitatingly stopped my dad's enjoyment of the weather and asked him to shut his window and turn the heater on. Majority wins!!! My dad was pissed. Hahaha! I also told my mom about the ghost, and THANK GOD, she believed me! Of course at first she was like, guni-guni mo lang yun, but when I told her exactly what I did when I saw it (I actually stared at it longer than I should have), she got the idea that I wasn't lying at all. She was even more terrified than I was coming into the kitchen this morning, haha, finally, somebody who believed I see dead people.

And so I went straight back to bed after some couple of minutes accomodating my mother, and when I woke up it's already 12:30 in the afternoon and it was uncomfortably quiet. Normally, I'd wake up to the sounds of my radio, but since I slept in the computer room, I heard nothing but passing cars. Looked at the garage, durango is gone. SHIT! Papa and my brother already left to see The Departed without me. WITHOUT ME!!! Leo, Matt, Mark??? My long awaited dream of testosterone-overload is officially gonzo! It can't get any worse than this. I wanna die!!!

Football Wives

2006-10-08T16:10:00.000-07:00

In a state like Texas, a divorcing couple due to football overdose (no pun intended) is relatively normal. Makes me imagine how many of them already consulted a lawyer this past weekend, which considerably is the craziest football weekend of every year. There's the annual state fair cottonbowl event and Sunday football to be all orgasmic about. These men are nuts! But hey, leaving them isn't the only solution. Right?

Divorce is a diabolic term to my ears, hence my fear in marriage. I kinda fear it just as much as I fear snakes. Seriously. It's not a walk in the park, that's a given, but why does divorce seem as easy as that? Not to mention when it's supposed to be "sacred", unless you're allah-uhakbar-ing or something. I mean, it's even written in the bible for crying out loud... "whoever divorces his wife and marries again commits adultery, and whoever marries her who has been divorced also commits adultery". Gee, who knew St. Mark wrote about this absurdity. Shame on mankind!!!

I'm not a football fan myself, but if I ever, God forbid, get married to an enthusiast of this certain sport, and if and when it gets a little too out of hand, I still won't divorce him. Um...yes. At least I'll try not to. I don't think resting in the devil's armpit every football day would be too much for bearing. I mean, it's only existent for four months in a year anyway (I allow to be corrected), so why be all cranky about that? Or better yet, I''ll ask him to buy me Football for Dummies so we can both stupefy ourselves over some hugging bouncers. But kidding aside, I know it's not gonna be easy, but don't they think that they bicker over a piece of shit? I mean, my mom gave my dad a hard beating because of his mistress. That's a bigger deal, you know? Ok, I totally made that up. But seriously. All these couples just need to compromise. It's not like Jessica divorced Nick only because he was wetting over USC's quarterback. Duh?

Point is, there's always solution to all problems, and a simple signature over divorce papers isn't one of them. Yeah, yeah, what do I know, right? I'm only a young-in with a struggling love life. But you know what, it doesn't take you to be 25, 30, 40 to actually embrace the real meaning of marriage and to know what it should be in one's life. It's just like a football game. When somebody tackles you, you get up, run, and never give up. Touchdown, beeyotch!

Bedroom fixed but couldn't sleep in it.

2006-10-05T17:24:00.000-07:00

Since I realized that my daily routine is pretty much of a fat ass' (well, I am a fat ass, but trust me, I'm working on it), I got out of bed yesterday morning, went straight to shower despite the disfunctional heater, ate breakfast, and fixed my room. My mother bought me a new dresser (a smaller, but cuter one I should say) that came with a nightstand, and it's adorable so it's motivation enough for me to finally clean up. My room is normally messy, yes, very pig-like, very me. I wake up, toss the comforter to my right, get out of bed, go to the bathroom and downstairs I go. It would stay that way until I get into bed again, toss the comforter over me, and put my eyelids to rest. I know, I should have been a guy, right? But that's about to change. Hopefully.

As I've said, I suddenly had the urge to be girly, and fix my room with these new fancy furnitures, and so I spent nearly 3 hours getting everything done. Actually, not everything I did in 3 hours were associated with the cleaning, but I danced every once in a while. Hahaha, I'm not really a dancer, but with the radio on, and some SexyBack is uninvitedly accompanying you, you gotta get jiggy with it. So I did, hahaha. Back to the room. Got you some photos, which unfortunately aren't enough justification of my hardwork. And to remind you, I'm no Ty Pennington, so that's the best I could do. As you can see, I've got no television whatsoever, I pretty much live in a maid's quarter type of haven. Haha, just kidding. But you can't blame me if I feel bad, the kitchen has a television, with cable no less, yet I don't? Regardless, I like my room, it doesn't have an ocean-view or anything but I think it's pretty nice. And oh, that little red bench right there is actually a place for my shoes and purses, but since my dad is fixing the heater via my closet (which sounds weird, I know) he tossed it out of it, which gave me the idea of making it an accent. It's a pretty fragile bench though, only winnie the pooh can afford to rest its ass on there, hehe. And since you know I'm not a girly-girl, and the room is unbelievably yellow, I feel like I need to explain. Before we moved here, that room was occupied by a baby, and I suck for not devoting enough time to actually change the color to something suitably better.

And so, the room is now all sassy and done. But when my Aunt called last night from Bicol, she had some ghost stories in tow, which I didn't appreciate at all. Ghosts that are apparently of my dear grandparents, but eventhough I love them so much, they should know that I would be with them in a snap if they show up. If I'm scared of anything, besides being an old maid, it's gotta be those paranormal stuff. Hell, even Criss Angel freaks me out! Let alone ghosts. Resultantly, I pestered my parents into sleeping in their own bedroom. After doing the late night bathroom habit, I hurriedly made my way into the king sized bed and acted like a 5 year old nagging her parents to let her sleep in the middle of them. Can you imagine a fat adult doing that? Only in this four walled cell, baby. Not that I'm proud of that! But hey, I didn't sleep literally in between them so gimme a break. I don't think we'd fit anyway, haha. But my dad dutifully gave his spot to me and lied next to me on the floor. Aww, there's the best father in the world! And since my mother's at work for the next few nights, I think I'll find that beautiful bed unscathed, and this 5 year old will once again bother her ever nice dad. You think I like it? Not at all. So hopefully when I come back, my brave spirits are too.

Love Handles

2006-10-03T21:42:00.000-07:00

Time and time again, I'd attempt to crash my eating habits in hopes of finally getting that shape I once had. But everytime I feel like I'm already on it, I'd crave so much harder that I'd always find myself pigging out before I can even lose half a pound. If I may be addicted to something, it's gotta be food, and I can't fuckin' quit it.

Death, as scary as it sounds, seems to be not enough threat to me, hence the urge of digging for that one motivation that can genuinely discipline this pighead. As you know, I'm of legal age, not the partying teenager anymore, and basically growing older rather rapidly. I hate it. But I got too scared of the thought that I might end up an old maid. No husband, no kids, no romance at all. And that frightens the heck out of me.

After hearing mass last Sunday, family had dinner at one of my favorite fastfoods, Sonic. I believe not everyone's familiar with this, but Sonic is this place where you just park your car, order from there, you pay, they'll bring the food to you, and you eat right then and there. They even have a trash bin before you leave the parking/eating lot. It's one of my favorites because it simply brings you the best services, you only talk and eat, no need to even get up, haha. See? That's exactly why I weigh this big, my lazy ass and my football appetite. Therefore, I gotta give it up.

And so. I vow to keep my piehole controlled. I'm not gonna diet slash starve, 'cause it always never works. Instead, I'll refrain myself from touching foods that please my tongue the best, and that can be a stepping stone for a healthier lifestyle. And for a new boyfriend, hahaha.

My brain is bigger than my boobs.

2006-09-30T21:58:00.000-07:00

Or something like that. Remember? That infamous Joyce Jimenez line?

Anyway. Finally, I have something to discuss with you about. I'm sorry, my mind has been wandering some place for quite a while there, but I'm back on. As you all know, I'm leading a pretty boring life nowadays, but thankfully, interesting stuff keep hovering my thinkbox even on listless days. So let me lay one out right now...

I was watching The View yesterday, and the women were talking about how Botox, and plastic surgery as a whole, have become an epidemic addiction to most of aging America. Joy and Barbara admittedly shared their Botox tales and how it positively affected their personal lifestyles, self confidence and how it made them look younger (which isn't that visible, anyway). I was just like, well, that's ok. I guess. They've got the money, so why not spare it on something that they wish would make them look anymore attractive. And like I care about these stupid celebrities. But the bigger picture here is what I'm dwelling on.

My mother would constantly talk about her officemates who are all so eager to get boobjobs. As the soon-to-be-49 that she is, and with a rather deflated rack, she'd jokingly ask me over and over again if she could ride the bandwagon. Well, if she was 29, maybe I'd allow her, but at her age now, the risk just wouldn't make sense. Plus, having a small package didn't seem to have affected my dad for the past soon-to-be-25 years of their marriage, so I'm completely sure, he could bare with it for 25 more, you know what I mean. But I know that she's only joking, or at least half the time she is. Back to topic. I seriously don't get the obsessive vanity these people are drowing themselves into, that they'd suffer a mere couple of hours having some random guy, with a convincing surgical gear, vigorously insert monstrous plastic balloons into their chests, just to turn heads (pun may be intended). Moreso, did I hear that there's already stuffing for butts too? Jesus Christ, what in the world! I was told that John Estrada had his bottom done, which made a guy friend of ours invest interest into having his done too. I can't believe even men are now drawn into this insanity. What, do they think that having an upholstered butt would get them laid more? I don't think so.

And as for those who've made plastic surgery a weekly trip to the spa. I've seen some faces, and honestly, they don't look any good to me. Like this woman who appeared on Oprah last season. She looks like a gordy barbiedoll with an almost erupting upper lip. She talks very nasally, and couldn't even express herself very well due to her robotic facial muscles, let alone those tattoed eyebrows. Ouch! Guess how young the lady is. She's only 28! But look, she's like 12 years her senior with manly features. Seriously, what do these people get from this? Don't they see that they look, oh forgive me lord, fugly?? I mean, really ugly. As Noah perfectly said in The Notebook, "Science can only go so far, then comes God". See? That's what you get for completely ruining what God gave you to start with.

In case you'd ask... if I were given a chance to go under the knife, would I go for a lipo? No, 'cuz I don't like the idea of metal sticks getting into my fats just like what they do to pigs. If anything, I'll subtract, contrary to the trend. Perhaps, breast reduction. Trust me, having quite a gifted rack has been one of the most difficult things I have to deal with everyday, hence my bewilderment over those skinny girls who are painstakingly getting theirs done, with 4-pounder plastic jellos no less. That oughtta be heavier. Passive suicide just to look enticing? Genius!

From the collageneous attempts of having Jolie-ish lips, to the potentially painful injections extracting fat from the sacks below your eyes, and to the fake hair for those who didn't survive the battle of splitends. Seems like every beauty deficiency now has its corresponding scientific resolution. And it can only get worse.

Randomgasms!

2006-09-28T21:23:00.000-07:00

"The road is long with many a winding turn
That leads us to who knows where, who knows where"

I'm singing this aged song in my head as I was indulging myself in a small glass of vanilla ice-cream with a mountain full of chocolate syrup on top. And boom! Right then and there, after who knows where, I felt guilty. I'm a severely overweight woman who doesn't normally care about what I register in my piehole, and I suddenly felt guilt over a Hollies song. Fuckin' random!!!

You know what else is random? This certain Justin Timberlake song. What the fuck!!! I can't get it out of my head! "You see these shackles baby I'm your slave" Boy oh boy, without even looking at its lyric sheet, I've memorized the freakin' song just by listening to it through this radio station I always wake up to, which characteristically loves repeating a set of ten songs over and over and over again. "I'll let you whip me if I misbehave" Oh gawd, I don't really like singing along with lyrics as kinky as that, but honestly, I think it's the Sexyback effect. Admit it! You all love it, don't you? Even my dad has it as his ringtone! No kidding. Hahaha, well actually, my brother is the culprit of it, but can you just imagine how weird it would be had my father set it up as his ringtone himself? Hahaha, random! But seriously. This song is awfully addicting. I hate it.

As I told Bone this afternoon, I was reading stuff on the internet about cars, sports, and other stuff just so I could wipe the word boredom off my forehead once again. Even made myself extra busy voting simultaneously for my Spanish sweetheart in this freakin poll - see shameless sidebar promo. Haha, can you blame me? He's super hot! And the fact that Andy Roddick's beating him, not to mention by a large margin, is pissing me off. I mean, the American is cute, I'll give him that. But come on now, Nadal > Roddick. Hot > Cute. Seriously!

Oh gosh. Sweat. Wine. Biceps. MARRY ME!

I'm so into this 20 year old who I wouldn't even have a proper communication with. Mi hable Espanol? No. Boo me. But still, help me vote for his hotness!!! Pretty please with puto't kutchinta on top, hehehe. After all, Filipinos are of Spanish descent, hindi ba? Haha, biglang napunta dun. =p

Ugly Betty premiered tonight. It was cute, funny, a little forgettable. But I'm sure it'll have it's own demographic too, myself partly included, especially that it's something to spend your time with while waiting for the main event. Haay, buhay telebisyon nanaman. I know. It entirely keeps me company. Everyday. Hmm. I think I should have a boyfriend. That way, I'd gladly release these random obsessions which, in reality, won't get me anywhere in life, plus I'd also stop pestering my parents to have family time (translation = gastos) with me and my (newly adult) brother every day off.

Feeling ko tuloy, any day my mom would get to my face and pull off a Maricel Soriano...
"Get out of my house, I don't need a parasite!" Yikes. Hahaha, I don't know what I'd do. =))

Naku, eto ba ang tama ng pagkain ng ice-cream? Kung ano-ano na lang tina-type ko. I've never been this random in my entire blogging life. Or have I? I don't know, but it feels oddly different this time. Like I had six bites of Snoop's brownies, haha. Man, I think I need a rest. A legitimate rest. At ayoko pang mamatay. Hahaha.

T.G.I.W.

2006-09-27T13:16:00.000-07:00

As I've earlier stated, there's another tv show that intrigued me with its premise, hence I had to watch it. Assumably, I thought Heroes is nothing but a glitch, but I was wrong. This is in no way an X-men clone, nor an ordinary product of fiction. It is simply an impressive narration of what could possibly happen in the future, say year 4k, considering the rapid evolution of human technology today.

Hey, there's nothing wrong with being fictionally farsighted, right?

This action packed drama chronicles a set of random everyday people who gradually discover their individual paranormal abilities. The thing that differs this from the one-dimensional supernatural stories is that these characters don't exist as superheroes in which they had to dutifully utilize their superpowers to be always on the good side. As exhibited in the pilot, there are certain characters who aren't necessarily orthodox, say Nikki Sanders, who happens to strip for a living and suddenly became a subconscious killer with the use of her extraordinary prowess. On top of that, this show injects realism in a superb way that would allow viewers to perceive a possible future of superpowers being an organic element in a human's life.

Overall, I'm highly impressed with the direction, writing, and partially, acting too. I liked it and the premiere certainly made me crave for another episode. I will try to watch this on a regular basis, but I'm not sure if this is something I'd be an avid fan of, just like I am with Grey's Anatomy, and currently, Studio 60. But this is definitely a breakout hit of the season, a new program worth of its one-hour timeslot in network television.

On other boobtube chuvaloos...

I can't be more excited for Project Runway 3's finale. I don't read spoilers, although I have to admit that I took a sneak peak at the final four's respective collections (is that even considered a spoiler? Oh well). I believe Deb and I are gunning for the same set of finalists, but since there's a twist (according to them Bravo teasers), we might be getting a four-way showdown, or perhaps a one-on-one. And if that suspended twist wasn't enough torture, there are recent meganews about Laura Bennett apparently accused Jeffrey Sebelia of cheating and/or stealing. Hmm, maybe I was wrong when I said that this season is possibly the sleaziest so far, hehe.

I've been an avid viewer of Desperate Housewives since it premiered a couple of Octobers ago, but season two was beyond disappointing compared to the first installment. However, my faith on televised neighborhood nitty gritty was back on after watching its third season premiere last Sunday. Some new characters debuted, and the pending dramas resumed. What I liked most about the season premiere was the main focus was on Bree's engagement with Orson, who killed his previous wife, and the same person who sent Mike into coma for some mysterious reason. Old storylines -- Susan/Mike, the Solises and Shaomei and the Lynette-Tom-Nora triangle -- overlap one after the other, but not to an extent that it overshadowed the most interesting story of the show, this whole Bree-Orson love affair. With Orson in tow, and a new love interest for Susan, while Mike is still in coma, and Shaomei eventually giving birth, I foresee this season to be more entertaining than ever.

And for those outside of the US, and are interested in watching episodes presently airing here, they are now available online (not for Project Runway, unfortunately). Yeps, no need to wait hours of torrent-ing, hehe. Just click the respective links to the shows above, and voila! Enjoy. =)

So much for a Wednesday afternoon. It's been cold the past few days, which is good, but I've been bored to death. As if you didn't already know that. I've been endlessly voting for Rafael Nadal in this certain poll (help me!!!) to ease this dullness. But I guess I'll play some basketball later, or perhaps cook pasta for dinner. Oh boy, if it weren't for television, I'd be Terrell-Owens-depressed by now. Hahaha, kidding. Whatever happened to that Cowboy, I hope he reconsiders continuing his young life. After all, he was paid lotsa bucks to play for this city. What in the world! I gotta go now. See you later, bitches!

Ermm, politely frank?

2006-09-24T11:03:00.000-07:00

If anything in my life has significantly changed over the years, apart from my nicotine exit, it's gotta be my intractable exclusive-girl-school-mean-bitch-syndrome. I didn't grow up with girls mostly surrounding me, but I did hang out with mostly girls in my early years. That said, panlalait or ridiculing has been a habitual pastime for me and my peers. And having a mom who's just as leniently direct rather tolerated my hostile tongue.

In that particular part of the intermediate community, mockery, sarcasm, and panlalait are altogether their 3rd language. You can ask anybody who hail from Poveda, MC, SPC, etc., and I guarantee you, they'd absolutely agree. Maybe because boys weren't obviously around that they had to keep themselves entertained by making fun of the other girls. I still don't know. But although it was somewhat fun, I knew it had to eventually change.

And since I've already put that negative trait in perspective, I'm now in the process of learning how to politely say something unpleasant to people. I know, still sounds bad, but trust me, my intentions are better than that.

For instance, I've got this friend who bought a Paris Hilton perfume, and I think it smells like shit. How can I tell him that it smells awful in a way that he'd never get offended? Should I go, "man, that just stinks!", or "I can't believe you bought this over the Britney one"? Apparently, I'm still in the midst of unattaching my character to that mean girl syndrome, therefore, I can't believe I'm having such a hard time figuring out this simple "dude, you smell incredibly bad" predicament.

And before I get sued or anything, the Paris Hilton perfume situation is just a concrete example. But you know what I mean. It's simply a mere situation when you want to tell a good friend that his new haircut looks like a horrible version of Garth Algar's... and of course, the dilemma that inescapably comes with it.

Honestly, it's just one of the million things trapped in my mouth that I would want to lay all out in the future. But I don't know how! It's not a self-centered gesture though, right? Or is it? I just thought it'd be nice if I could be my old forthright self again, just with a little bit more tact and ethics this time. If I may sound like an inconsiderate narcissistic bitch, I apologize. That's far off what I'm gunning for. Nobody's perfect, who is? But as someone who exists in the same air as my pals breathe in, I can only have nothing but good intentions of sincerely just wanting them to look, smell, speak, think and feel better about themselves.

Christmas Wish #1

2006-09-22T23:37:00.000-07:00

Our current digicam is working perfectly, however, there are times that it's at its most uncooperative state, especially when my brother and I are enjoying a live wrestling event. Just like this. Decent shots, perhaps, but we can't just settle for decent, right? Of course you want better and beautiful shots, especially when it's not everyday that you get the chance to be in an event, place, occasion like that.

So, with that, my mother considers buying a new digicam before our soon-ish adventures to the west coast. I initially wanted a Powershot SD800, but I snobbed the idea once I saw that Sharapova ad. Haha, sorry, that's how bad I want to strangle her. And so, I switched my options to Nikon Coolpix S7c, which is also very stylish, btw. However, when I saw Oprah's season premiere earlier this week, and showed that she's using this certain Kodak camera, my mom and I thought that it's gotta be good since Oprah's using it. I forgot exactly what the model was but I searched for a good Kodak cam and I found this.

Kodak Easyshare V705

It's got 7.1 megapix, ultra wide 5x optical zoom range and it comes in pink too! Ugh, gorgeous!

Haha, it's funny, right? I just had a petty fight with my mom a few days ago over a freakin' kabayo, and now we're talking luxuries. *lol* Then again, as Jaz perfectly puts it, she quite needs some serious priority-resorting. But between an ironing board and a new digicam? No brainer, I'll take the latter. =p Happy weekend, everyone!

They're McBACK!

2006-09-21T21:57:00.000-07:00

Caution: Fangirl moment ito.

My favorite guilty pleasure is back! Squeeeee! I'm extra enthusiastic about it, no doubt, but what's up with the constant flashbacks? Kinda lost me there, pun intended. Nevertheless, it was a relief to welcome back my Mcfavorite TV show EVER. Seriously!

Hence the new McLayout. Nahawa na ako kay Meredith, haha. I know it's not much different from the previous one, but what the heck, when McDreamy stands in the middle of it all, I just can't ask for anything more. Hahaha! [Note to Kat, and only for Kat: you can download the layout here, have no idea where to send it so there. It's ready to use, just put your haloscan code and edit the sidebar widgets with your info and stuff. (;]

And since I'm already talking about television...

Monday is a busy TV day for this household, brother's a Prison Break freak, father is fond of Howie Mandel's punchable antics, and everybody religiously watches Monday Night Raw. In other words, there's no more space left for yet another program. But I had the chance to see the rookie of the year contender, Studio 60, via its replay telecast on Bravo (thank God for Bravo!). I'll simply say that it's really really good. Brilliant could be an overstatement, but the pilot just brought everything a pilot episode should have, unlike Six Degrees which I unfortunately spent 12 minutes of my time with (to my defense, it immediately followed Grey's Anatomy).

Anyway, Studio 60 is Aaron Sorkin's (A Few Good Men) new masterpiece, and with an Emmy nominated writer in control, you can only anticipate the most creative juices. And he indeed delivered. As I've said, the story of this series revolves around the drama behind a live comedy sketch show which is seemingly much similar to what Sorkin has done in The West Wing's whitehouse. The actors were just as good too. Amanda Peet, who outshone everyone, was just exceptionally flawless in a character that could be all disoriented under pressure in reality which she made look (or more likely as what she was told to do) very calm and professional. Nonetheless, acting, collectively, was very impressive, and overall, a ratings-hogger in the making.

There's another new show that gets heatraves from the critics. Saw the trailer of it, quite intriguing, but it's on a freakin' Monday!!! Why do all the fantastic shows have to be parading during this day? I mean, what about Tuesday next time? Seriously.

Seven Songs

2006-09-20T19:12:00.000-07:00

As I've recently said, songs and myself have a lifelong turbulent yet propitious relationship. It has its commonly uncanny ways of swaying my emotions in a certain way or another. However, not all songs were made to compensate strong affection with comfort, but some just exist to entertain, and entertain alone.

I was tagged by Cheh with this relatively easy survey regarding seven songs that I currently enjoy listening to. I actually thought I'll have the hardest time making up my list because I'm very picky with songs and I don't really like most of the pop mainstream nowadays, but good thing the survey only asks me to list seven songs I love, for just whatever reason, and indeed, that's what I'll do.

List seven songs you are into right now. No matter what the genre, whether they have words, or even if they’re not any good, but they must be songs you’re really enjoying now. Post these instructions in your LiveJournal/blog along with your seven songs. Then tag seven other people to see what they’re listening to.

Don't Stop Believin' by Journey
Aged rock (not the Metallica kind) never grows old on me. Numerous hits from Styx, Foreigners, Toto, and a few more others are simply ageless to my ears. But this song is just the anthem for me. I mean, who seriously doesn't know this song?

Bohemian Rhapsody by Queen
Don't you just love singing the rock part of it inside the car? Oh gawd, I'm so guilty. I'd even attempt to hit that crazy high note, "for meeee" no matter how bulgy my neck veins get. Hahaha!

Why (cover) by Kelly Clarkson
I love the original, sure, but Kelly's special to me, and without surprise, she did this song justice.

You Learn by Alanis Morissette
I was an Alanis freak in the late 90s, even amidst false reports of her songs being demonic, which was so stupid, btw. As we all know, she has a long list of smash hits back in the day, but You Learn is simply rational, hence it's my favorite.

Gold Digger by Kanye West
I just never get tired of this song, plus the broke-broke dance step is very catchy, ala otcho-otcho. Seriously. You can only imagine my pathetic efforts of pulling it off. *lol*

Somos Novios by Andrea Bocelli feat. Katharine McPhee
Now for the softer side, haha. I appreciate classical music, and Andrea Bocelli is no exception. Obviously, it's in Spanish, but even with my limited espanol, I managed to memorize the lyrics in a matter of 2 days just by repeatedly listening to it. Seriously, it's that beautiful!

Somewhere Only We Know by Keane
Everybody loves a British rock band, seems to be the trend. But I've been a fan of Keane since the emergence of my personally preferred genre, soft rock, or alternative as what it's commonly known. Above all their songs, this one stands out as my ultimate favorite. I just feel like it's sooo me. So me.

DONE! ...On a totally irrelevant note... Apparently, the Blogger commenting system is finally working perfectly. I tested it earlier, commented on non-beta blogs, and it seemed to be working flawlessly. I hope y'all won't have problems here any longer. [source]

Oh, and before I forget.

As always, I'm supposed to tag another seven to do the exact same survey, but I think I've bothered people enough, haha. So just snag it if y'all feel like doing this. Mi casa es su casa. ;)

Planchadora Tales

2006-09-19T20:12:00.000-07:00

If anything inside this four-walled cell makes my life less boring, it's gotta be my chore of ironing everyone's clothes in a weekly basis. I don't like it, but once I'm at it, I enjoy it. After all, aircon or heater is always on, I'm sitting down while doing it, infront of the television, and with, occasionally, a bag of chips. In other words, I'm comfortable enough, so I can't really complain.

But for me to keep myself from bitching about it, I gotta have a good set of tools in order to keep up with this recurrent task. I've been complaining about the iron and ironing board, respectively, since last year, but nobody cared to listen. My parents would just go, "pwede pa yan!" motioning for me to continue using them, even if I'm already having a difficult time. But as the uber patient daughter that I naturally am, I did exactly what I was told. I even stopped thinking that they'd ever hear my plea, until my mom used the iron herself in which it suddenly bursted out electric sparks. Told you, it's time for a new one. And so my father got me a new iron to work with.

However, the iron wasn't my only problem. The ironing board's feet which are now severely unbalanced is making the task extra hard for me, and so, I once again tried voicing it out... yet again, to no avail. What did I get instead? A handful of some-some, you know what I mean.

And it unquestionably pissed. me. off.

I love my mother. Sure. But there are certain times when I feel like I act like her age, and she acts like she's me. I told her, in such a desperate tone, that we need a new kabayo, then she unhesitatingly replied, "pagchagaan mo muna 'yan". I would try, had I not been complaining about it for more than a year. That fuckin' kabayo can even barely stand, that's why I've been begging for a replacement. But she wouldn't listen. It's as if the clothes I'm dealing with are all mine, when mostly, it consists of her srubs. And yes. My mom's a nurse, and she can't buy me a freakin' ironing board. I know. She doesn't earn much, right?

I would understand if she's strictly saving some bucks, and wouldn't want to spend on unplanned expenses. I can still wait. But if she can afford to buy plastic flowers through craigslist, then not this useful gadget that can very well benefit the people in this house altogether, we definitely got a problem. It's not like I'm asking her to buy me a plasma tv or something.

Adios, Summer!

2006-09-14T20:41:00.000-07:00

In a few days time, Fall will once again be dominant in the annual season rotation, and at last, boring TV season will finally bid bye-bye. These American Idol slot fillers truly made up my most boring Summer yet, and I can't be thankful enough.

Rockstar: Supernova was really good. But. I fuckin' hated the finale. I know, you know, they know. Dilana should have won. So what the hell was that? I don't dislike Lucas as a being, but I think his weekly (or daily) use of make-up is extremely queer, and his performing skills are nothing but epileptic. And he looks like this person I can't stand from the MTV Challenges. In other words, he's not unique as what the show exhibited him to be, whereas Dilana is the entertainer extraordinaire, hence my bulging nerves at the moment. Ugh!!! Hated it. I wouldn't really buy their album, just like how I snobbed INXS last year, but if it were Dilana fronting them, I would have thought twice.

ROBBED!!!

Apart from enjoying the summer fillers, and welcoming the comebacks of the old standards (Anatomy, Housewives, Lost, etc.), there are also some new series worth anticipating.

Everyone's familiar with Betty La Fea, right? I was a huge fan of that show when it was shown in the Philippines a long time ago, hence my over enthused approach to its American version, towed by no less than Salma Hayek (who I adore). Literally translated as Ugly Betty, I got the chance to see a preview of it last night, and shall I say, America Ferrera (popularized by her role in this movie) is such an effective ugly duckling. I won't predict it to be as huge as the other ABC ratings-hoggers, but I think that this is attractive enough, especially for those who are battling image and confidence crises. Gosh, I hope that doesn't sound too harsh, haha, but you know what I mean.

But out of all the upcoming shows, Studio 60 is the obvious favorite, with its torchbearer, Matthew Perry (or Chandler, as he's better known as). The premise of this one is simply put, the behind-the-scene dramajigs of a live comedy show, say Saturday Night Live. Storyline is apparently very captivating, thus the gaganess of critics over it. Seems like with Chandler back on NBC, you possibly can't go wrong. I'm reserving a DVR spot for this potential smash hit.

And can I just insert this? Rafael Nadal during Clay season, or even not, is one of my favorite schedule fillers of all time! Hahaha, I'm obsessed with this man! Freakin' fangirl moment. =))

Long hair. Biceps. Accent. Squee!!!

I'm quite excited for Fall, not just because there's some good TV on the way, but the cleaning will be set aside for the next two seasons. Hahaha, a simple delight for a lazy-assed like myself. Gee. I wish life is too easy that it only consists of watching TV. Sigh.

Stupid American Child.

2006-09-09T22:48:00.000-07:00

Just in case you wonder. Title is derived from a Season 2 episode of House M.D. You know, that Chinese kid who brought her sick mom to the hospital just so she could ask for birth control pills, imposing that House wouldn't figure it out? Haha! Well, I think it's somehow relative to the following narration, one way or another. Anyway, this quento somehow resembles this one. But this time, it's totally beyond me. Ugh. Awful!

So we were at the mall last weekend, doing a little shopping. As I lined up to pay, I overhead two Filipino girls chit-chatting with the cashier, casually via their very obvious accent. No, I don't mean to make it sound negatively, but Filipinos have a distinctive way of speaking the language (which is not a bad thing at all), unless you grew up speaking it the American way. Back to the story. These girls were comfortably chattering away, and while the cashier was already doing her job, they briefly talked in Tagalog, which of course, I once again overheard.

Now. My dad and my brother were walking towards me talking rather loudly in our native language. I was waiting for the girls to look behind their shoulders and greet us with a "kabayan!" or "pinoy ka?", the standard greeting notes we get from fellowmen. But no. You know what they did? The pretended to be of another nation's breed, or as if they've been westernized since birth. Started to talk in English ala Amerikano, which was, not to mention, such a ludicrously poor attempt.

They perhaps thought that I'm Mexican or something (which happens to be the case, for always, not that I like it), thus their sudden switch to this laughable disguise right infront of me. But come on now. Yellow skin, straight black hair, chinky eyes, buttoned nose? Who are you kidding? Seriously. I could only cover my head in shame.

In reality, Filipinos who grew up here, or stayed long enough, would eventually lose their congenital accent. However, that happens organically, and needs not to be forced, especially just to put up a show. Hence personally, it's doubtlessly disturbing to witness these people subconciously disregard their race just so they could tell their superficial selves that they truly belong.

She's real!

2006-09-07T16:35:00.000-07:00

Admittedly, I'm one of the bazillionettes who suspected the baby Suri to be just another product of a movie actor's fictional mind farts. But looks like we've just been proven wrong. There really is a Suri Cruise!!! Well, duh? Big deal, of course. At least for showbiz aficionados like me. The sum of this Cruise-Holmes intercourse had remained invisible since birth, hence the speculations of it being unreal. But here she is now!!! The real baby Suri!

What did I think, initially? She looks Asian. Crazy? Not really. But after a couple of minutes staring at the picture, and with my brother's opinion abruptly injected in the round thing above my neck, I figured... She's real. Well. Fine. She looks like Tom Cruise. And say, a little bit of the mother. But evs. The fact that she looks Asian is what really scrapped all of what could be a negative response to this current topic of the water cooler. She's adorable. Please.

ETA: About the comment box...

I've been paying attention to everyone who continually gets problems re commenting here. I actually don't know what exactly is going on, but I think this somehow was caused by my switch to Blogger's Beta features. On their behalf, I apologize. I would suggest that you switch to it as well, but I'm afraid you won't like its new thingamajigs. So maybe you can just choose the "other" option when entering a comment for the mean time. I know, sucks big time, but I'm really sorry about it. If I could only revert back to what blogger was like before the stupid changes.

And now for the Tennis geek in me...

I think I just jinxed Rafa's chances of getting further in the tourney. I just went to Austin, and when I came back, I was floored to witness this random Russian shockingly annihilate my favorite. He beat him in 4 fuckin' sets, with the last being 6-1. I still can't believe it! Well, not that it's the end of the world, but I can't help but wonder what could have gone wrong. It was uncharacteristically exhausting to watch him. But what the heck, he's still no.2, still frickin' hot, and I forever love him. So juicy, haha! There's only enough room left for one more upset, and that is for Andy Roddick not making it to the finals. There's gotta be a hottie in there! ((:

I've got another story, but it deserves an entry of it's own. It's so katawa and kainis. Super arte, haha. Til then.

Rainy Days on Tuesdays

2006-09-06T00:42:00.000-07:00

And so, the trip to Austin still pushed through, even with the heavy weather almost hindering my long awaited escapade. Aba, I had to rampa at least before this season ends, haha. And I got it, just with an equally volimunous condition. The effin' weather wasn't cooperative at all, it was gloomy from here to there, and it sucked. Big time. Nevertheless, I can't say I didn't enjoy it. After all, The Capitol (the trip's main purpose) is a tourist destination itself. I got to see parts here and there, and around it. Barely satisfying, but not that bad either. If the weather could have been just a little friendlier, sigh, I would have enjoyed the trip immensely. Eff it!

It was a fun experience kodak-ing though. Oh gosh, I'm no expert, please bear with my amateur skills.

The Capitol

Capitol tower ceiling. Brother took this.

Marisco Grill & Grove along 6th St.

And a poor self portrait attempt. Wawa.
You know what ticked me off the most? No, not that I didn't get to take a photo of myself completely, but the fact that I didn't even get to have a single cocktail anywhere on 6th St. That place is like the Session Road of South Texas - I'm from the North, so I'm totally screwed - it's where musicians, comedians, and parties and cocktails come alive each night. It's popular, and seemingly fun, hence my little turmoil. But the rain just sealed it for us. If the sun showed up sooner, we could have stayed over the night. But it didn't, so we headed right back home after a brief 2-hour stay. We didn't even see the fuckin' bat bridge!!! Arghhh.

Pardon my kid-without-a-candy attitude here. I just don't get to go to places like that everyday, and as you may know, I've been severely bored over the past few months, that I needed this trip to at least, remind me that I have an outside world aside from the backyard. Damn. My typing fingers are releasing baloney now. It's 2:47am, it's freezing cold, I got Tennis to watch tomorrow, but I'm yet to yawn, and I'm still mad.

I swear. I will go back to Austin sooner than later. And I will ride that fuckin' duck andventures!

Peanut Butter and Ginobili

2006-09-01T22:50:00.000-07:00

I haven't really been paying attention to FIBA that much, well actually, not at all. I've only seen about 4 games which turned out to be a less than enthralling viewing experience than anticipated because of the massive margin of deficits most of the time. But I managed to tune in to this quaterfinals match between USA and Germany. Even with Dirk, being less than spectacular at the time, his gang still managed to give USA a run for its money through the first half. But it was clearer than crystal that the favored team will take the win in the end, hence Big D goes home, once again, empty handed. But looks like he's not conveying an upset alone. To my shock, Greece defeated USA by not 1, not 2, but 6 points! Haha, I never expected that, but consider me ignorant since I haven't really seen the Greeks play altogether. And if that isn't bad enough, Papa Manu is bound to play only for bronze instead of the gold. Bummah! Man, I think my less enthused approach towards the tournament jinxed my favorites. Hahaha, inako e 'no?

While I momentarily disregard my recently restored obsession with basketball, I invited my attention back to my aged fanaticism towards tennis. I know. I know. Sports geek alert. But evs, it wipes boredom off my forehead in lethargic times like this. As I was saying, tennis has been occupying my activity deprived system over the past few days as US Open is currently in progress with, not to mention, a number of sweaty foreign papables. I sound like a pervert. *erase, erase* Um, whatever. As if I can be fake anyway. Yes, these hunkapops are making me excited. Happy? Not in a libidinous manner, you tard! Seriously though, the attractive visuals are definitely magnetic enough for me to sit through it the whole day, but far more than that, I'm really just a huge fan of the sport itself. Honestly. (;

Current favorite? I know, everybody's all gaga over Roger Federer, but I gladly differ. Not that I'm not a fan of the top-seeder, but between him and his rival... Rafael Nadal, hands down. Maybe because Federer strangely looks like my first cousin, and that automatically restrains me from considering him as an eye candy? Or maybe because Nadal is way more expressive to continually release those intensified hot grunts? Fine. I'm a freak! But in all seriousness though, I'm desiring for a Nadal-Roddick finals. Seems to be a distant possibility for now, but who knows, 3rd round is just about to start.

EDIT: I just figured that Rafa and Roddick will eventually be in the same bracket. No chance for a finale as hot as that. But semis wouldn't be bad. I just hope I don't jinx either chances, haha. Agassi exited professional tennis today (Sunday). T'was a teary-eyed moment, but with 8 grandslams in his resume, how can I feel sorrow? And of course, that legendary rival with Pete Sampras can forever be a remembrance alone. He's awesome, he's gorgeous, and I'll miss him sure as heck.

My weekend ~~will be~~ is still jampacked with Tennis, no less. Y'all enjoy yours! (: