Tuesday, June 30, 2009

The Dog Ate my Entry

Previously on this blog...

The LC-A 25th Anniversary Party (Philippines) was held in Baguio last June 13, and this is the awesome awesome video courtesy of luisandthepolice. Thanks again Liana and family for hosting the party.

Currently showing:

I'm too lazy to write anything as the free time I've had over the weekend has crept over to Monday, and I'm still catatonic. I just want to read, sleep, eat, and repeat the whole cycle. But of course life's a bitch like that and I'm forced to snap out of it.

I went to a gig of Gab and Friends (known to the public as Parokya ni Edgar) at the 70's Bistro and it was jampacked with people, people who are so starstruck with them they even had their pictures taken with the band WHILE they were playing. I guess it's just another day for them. For the band, I mean. Sometimes I have a hard time reconciling the friend vs. the celebrity when I see them being mugged by fans. One even had his neck autographed. Really.

I think I have to sleep soon because the sun rises early and I can't sleep if it's too hot in the room, and I have a spa appointment (I have waited so long for this). It's summer again -- the weather didn't get the memo that it's already rainy season. Well, fine, sometimes it rains especially when I'm about to leave the house, but not when I need to sleep. I wake up feeling suffocated because of the heat.

This is a weird day, but ended in a high note.

P.S.: Hey you. I take back what I said about the Nike Dunks. I kinda want it now.

Friday, June 26, 2009


I am taking an Internet break for a few days, as I've found myself to suddenly have a chunk of free time. I'm spending it with friends and a book. Oh god, a book. Or several. I missed reading so much I've schlepped a buttload of borrowed titles from Pam (she who got to spend ten grand on books).

So, I'm making a playlist, packing my things, and going to a birthday party. I hope I don't just sleep when we get to where we're going. Speaking of playlists, I'm trying to cram my Michael Jackson albums into my overloaded iPod last night, then I went to sleep and when I woke up my Facebook was drowning in "RIP Michael Jackson". I can't believe it. He cannot die. He's beyond being human now. A freak maybe but with a preternatural talent for music that made him an icon (I hate using this word but there's no other word for it) and have been imitated by many, whose dance steps were the foundation for all things Gary V and Justin Timberlake, and a lot more down the years.

(Trivia: MJ's Dirty Diana is Whitney Houston's Queen of the Night. Yes, I have just learned that because I find bliss in ignorance.)

And of course a Charlie's Angel is now an angel. Farrah Fawcett finally said goodbye to the world. She with the shag haircut, the bathingsuit picture, and an incredible smile. I don't know much about Ms. Fawcett as I do about MJ but nevertheless, may both their souls rest in peace. They won't be forgotten, that's for sure. Not when "Man in the Mirror" is on repeat.

I wonder what people would remember me for when I die.

Monday, June 22, 2009

Uhm, No.

I am currently obsessed with watching episodes upon episodes of that reality TV called Jon and Kate Plus 8. Jon and Kate is this couple who, after Kate was diagnosed with infertility, went ahead and had IVF procedure done. First they had twin girls, so yay. They wanted more children so they did IVF again, and oh my god did the universe ever grant their wish. Their second set of multiples was a six-child litter. They wanted value for money and effort and just after two pregnancies, they got eight children.

Watching them with eight kids makes my ovaries fold inward -- I don't know how they do it. I guess being parents they really have no choice, but attention-whores or not, it's a really difficult job. I know kids are wonderful and a blessing from God and all that jazz, but I'd prefer if they were doled one at a time. I mean, I've never been even left alone with either Abby or Joaquin for more than 10 minutes, except when they're asleep. My siblings know I freak out and they joke that would leave both kids in my care for a whole day.

Then you imagine 8 children under the age of 7 all running around screaming and fighting and making a mess. To me that's the equivalent of stuffing your face inside a blender then pressing Purify. Yes, the Gosselin kids are cute, but that's not the point.

I don't know how I would entertain Abby, or God forbid, calm her down when she throws a hissy fit for some trivial thing like her clothes touching her body. I can manage Joaquin for two hours tops, probably, he's easier to entertain like that. The main thing with him is he likes to hit people, get them to say ouch or any kind of sound that says "I am in pain". I made him face a wall once, but I get distracted when he calls me ever so sweetly.

I love them, but thank the Lord Almighty they have parents. I'll just be their Tita Ninang who regularly hands them date money.

Saturday, June 20, 2009

Cabin Fever

Since arriving from Baguio I hadn't had a chance to get out of the house until today. I camped out at the living room to work, and for four days I did everything on that couch -- work, eat, sleep, smoke, work, sleep -- until I was done. Now that couch has a permanent imprint of my ass and I can't say my roommate is happy about it.

I was going crazy inside the house. I faced my laptop for 16 hours at a time, and only saw my roommate and New Yaya during those four days. My other human interactions were done virtually, i.e. Facebook, Plurk, Twitter, Google Talk, and Yahoo Messenger. I was supposed to go out last night and finally see other human beings but I had to do revisions, then when I was done I was just too tired to go out. 

(Bruce is tired too, he wouldn't turn on this morning. My Sun broadband also wanted to rest, it's soooooo slow I was forced to [gasp] go to an internet cafe to send emails.)

So now I'm out of the house and chose the busiest coffee shop in the entire mall. I love people. Although strangers are not allowed to touch me.

Daddy, Papa, Dada, Father, Itay

One for the Books

By Ruby de Vera
Philippine Daily Inquirer

Last updated 21:17:00 06/19/2009

MANILA, Philippines – There is one vivid memory I had of my childhood. I was probably six years old then, and we lived in Tagaytay before it was the tourist trap that it is now. I woke up disoriented, as it was dark inside the house. I remember I was about to cry for attention because I was alone in bed, but then I heard some music.

Read the whole article here, or on Saturday's issue of the Inquirer.

Thursday, June 18, 2009

The Something's Birthday

happy birthday LCA!, originally uploaded by mey0r.

Over the long weekend Lomomanila trooped to Baguio for the 25th Anniversary of the LC-A, the flagship camera of the Lomo movement. It was a fun fun weekend, marred only by my injury, some ghosts, and a little rain.

We ate cake from LC-A plates and drank from LC-A cups, even had Lomo vodka shots in film canisters. For a place in Baguio, try PNKY along Leonard Wood road, it's a quaint place and you'll like the travel theme of the boutique hotel.

The party at VOCAS was awesome too, and another lomowall is up there like last year, but this time 8x10 pictures are mounted. Thanks to Tuesday and Liana for spearheading this event.

Photo by Jonas.

Wednesday, June 17, 2009

When I Drank a Snake's Essence

I am so tired these past couple of days, because a deadline looms at me and threatens to shoot me between the eyes. I fall asleep everywhere - the couch, the dining table, on my laptop. I even fell asleep while Joaquin and I were watching Yo Gabba Gabba. I remember him shouting "Ninang!" a couple of times to wake me, and when that didn't prove effective he threw a bunch of flash cards on my face. I woke up an hour later with a card on my forehead.

I ran out of Berocca (my upper of choice) and resorted to strong cups of coffee every 2 hours but it's wreaking havoc on my stomach acids. The heartburns I suffer from drinking too much caffeine are enough to singe my eyebrows.

I was dozing off on the couch again, with my fingers still on the Delete button, when my ever perky roommate waltzed in asking me about the keys. Somewhere between wakefulness and sleep my brain tried to process it. Keys? What keys? It's tied to a snitch and it's flying and you have to use that broom to catch the keys. Then a little kitten appeared and kicked me on my sprained ankle (which has begun to swell belatedly) and I woke up.

She's asking whether I had the house keys duplicated, and of course I haven't yet and my god I have a deadline and isn't it more important than the house keys? Of course I didn't say all these aloud because she might confiscate my key. I just told her no, not yet. Then she just made conversation while drinking this strange liquid from a bottle with a straw.

"What's that?"
"It's Cobra, an energy drink."
"Can it wake me up?"

So I sent New Yaya to get me three bottles of the stuff because I'm looking at a straight 24-hour workday. It was cold and urine-colored, then I took a sip.

And it was like drinking bottled hell. If any of you remember Esvimin, that multivitamin syrup in the 80s, the one that my parents made me take every single night and made me think I was swallowing liquified Disgust -- mix it with some carbonated water and you get Cobra.

It woke me up all right. I'm still trying not to throw up, and I think my stomach is also protesting. I am going to the toilet right about now.

Tuesday, June 16, 2009

The Ultimate Knockout

Lomomanila in cooperation with Diesel presents a series of lomowalls at all Diesel branches. Ours is up at the Diesel Shangri-La Mall branch. It features people getting knocked out with varied instruments. Me, I chose a rolling pin.

Monday, June 15, 2009


I went to Baguio to celebrate something's birthday, and on my first day there, my first couple of hours, I managed to injure myself. I was floating from lack of sleep and while walking at the Burnham Park, I missed a step and sprained my ankle. Again.

I can't count how many times I've been sprained that I'm such an expert on what to do about it. As soon as I was able to I put ice on it, and thankfully Baguio was cold (but not that cold) because my foot didn't swell up to a watermelon this time. I even managed to put on shoes and party and go around the city.

Pictures of the birthday party in a few. Days or weeks probably. I'm holing up to do some serious editing.

Thursday, June 11, 2009

This is Why You Have to Wait

Extreme Ways, originally uploaded by azrdwarr.

Taking photos for a living is not a joke, especially if you're a photojournalist, travel, or landscape photographer. You have to wait for the right light, the smoking gun shot, and while all technicalities are assumed to be there, luck is sometimes 90% of it.

I still don't have a lightning shot, mainly because I'm dead scared of thunder and I'm not really that brave to go to stand outside during a thunderstorm. I'd rather nap.

Wednesday, June 10, 2009

Hello Sun

It's been sunny for the past few days and I'm glad I don't have to suffer through flooded streets anymore. The silver lining was getting to wear the rain boots (in Mercury Drug, no less) but people in the neighborhood stare, but since when did I care about people I don't know.

So I was pooped from having to stay up late since forever and for once, for the first time in 2009, I slept at freaking 9:30pm. I was trying to read but the words were swimming already and I couldn't see straight anymore - I gave in. And of course what do you get when you sleep early? I woke up at 6:30am, usually my bedtime. I just lay in bed for an hour because there is no way I'm getting up and about at that godforsaken hour.

I didn't want to sleep again because I knew I'll just get a headache from that, but my back was beginning to get sore from the lying down and not sleeping. I got up and bought taho (I missed taho!) from the pervy guy who kept staring at my braless chest that I kept covering up with my arms, during which time I thought it would make my day if I could just poke his eyes out.

Mornings are overrated.

Tuesday, June 09, 2009

I'm Out of That Substance Called Nice Today

I had to wake up after 4 hours of sleep to be in time for a long shoot in Bonifacio High Street. We visited 12 stores to shoot their products and I was way low on sugar and caffeine by the time we hit the 10th store. I had almost no desire to get up from the P500,000 couch - but they might make me pay rent if I sat on it for too long.

After more than four hours we still had to go to Makati for another shoot, and thankfully, food. I was so tired that if I sat down for more than 5 minutes I would fall asleep, which I did on the ride home.

At home I didn't even go near my bed, just put away my things and went back downstairs to work. I was afraid that if I hugged my pillow I wouldn't let it go then the next thing I know it's already morning and look! No article.

So I camped with Brucey at the living room to check my email. Bad idea. There were other people and they want conversation. Hey Talking Person, see, I'm not smiling. I'm replying in monosyllables, which in some cultures, can be interpreted as Not Interested.

Then viciousness pours out from me, in Facebook, Plurk and forums. I can't help it, it's coming out of my pores and into my hands and to the keyboard.

The icing on the cake would probably be hearing the Tagalog version of Single Ladies. I guess it's played over the PA system on School for Serial Killers, along with the other Tagalized versions of
English songs.

UPDATE: Checked the calendar, it's PMS. I'll just watch SpongeBob now and maybe cry.

Saturday, June 06, 2009


I'm up before noon on a rainy Saturday. What is up with the world? I might have slept a little too much yesterday, then last night we finished early with the supplements so I was home before midnight. I watched a little DVD then I slept. Very early for me.

A text message woke me up at 10am, and I couldn't get back to sleep again. Might as well get up and experience daylight.

So. It's not much. I'm bored. Long day today anyway, in a few hours I'm starting my four-point journey around the metro. Thinking of wearing the sweater boots but the jeans that go with that is still hanging to dry. My brain really doesn't work much before noon, sorry. I will just go read tabloid sites.

Friday, June 05, 2009

In Training

Breaking in a new househelp isn't really my thing. Roomie takes care of that usually. But since lately I'm the one who's up when New Yaya wakes (she gets up like four thirty in the morning, gosh), I give her the occasional instructions.

Most of the time I just point out what's to be cleaned in my room, where the fresh beddings are, what is ABSOLUTELY NOT TO BE TOUCHED, and how to clean my chinelas. That's it. Sometimes I go a little further and give detailed instructions on how to iron certain clothing items and give the impression that the Titans will be set loose on her and her alone if she burns my shirts.

Yesterday I asked New Yaya to make me a tuna omelet, and she asked where is our can opener. I don't know, ok. She found it, and asked me how to use it. Blank stare. Then she asked what time does the garbage truck usually come in the morning. You're kidding, right? Then she proceeded to inquire what should she cook for me. I hardly eat in the house. The clincher was when she asked me, "Ilang takal po ang sasaingin ko sa umaga?" Duuuhuuude. Might as well ask me if I know how to fly a plane.

So now I sent her to check if my dirty laundry has formed new generations of drug-resistant bacteria, and while she's at it can she please wash them all. She went upstairs, went down, and while I watched she went upstairs again armed with a broom, rags, an industrial strength Lysol and what I think is a piece of bread.

Will she be there that long that she would need a snack?

How Many Do You Recognize?

Thursday, June 04, 2009

This Goes Out to Tiffany, She Who Lives in that Cold Country

Since I can't get through to you by normal means (email, messaging, and telepathy) I'm writing to you here.

So, you know I only open Friendster like once in a blue moon, right? I'm actually this close to deleting it because of the idiots that abound in there, who would type their names in sTicKy cAPs and change all their S's into Z's. I'm not getting that. I only log in when I get a special email from them saying I have a message or someone I don't know added me as a friend.

I was checking my email and I saw a friend request (I have absolutely no idea who he is) so I checked the hood. And there you were in my front page, saying that you have a new friend, and by golly miss molly did that name sound familiar.

Remember that time? Remember when I used to develop crushes on your classmates and he was one of them? I swear when I saw his mug (and album, I stalked a little) I was WTF WAS I THINKING BACK THEN. No, seriously. You should have done what you should have done back then: shook me until my teeth rattled and made me say "I take it back! I take it back!"

I don't remember him being awesomely handsome back then, but he was quiet and nice and he played Blue Moon with me on the school piano. Which was a big deal for a 14-year old but holy guacamole, he really wasn't crush material. Especially now.

I hope I don't see several more of my high school crushes on your Friends list, I'm kind of questioning my judgment and eyesight now.

Wednesday, June 03, 2009

Pardon Me for all the Pointlessness

I saw the sunrise today. And yesterday. And the day before that.

And now I know the feeling that Lestat describes in the book whenever the sun is about to rise. I get numb, I want to collapse (not into a coffin), and I just want to sleep a dreamless sleep. But, I can't. Yeah, up to here with English words.

My legs hurt. My eyes hurt. My hair hurts. And as a break, I blog. More English words.

The other day I edited a manuscript, which, to say the least, drained me of all my strength and my willpower to get pissed when I see bad English. This one took the cake definitely. I'm one of those people who would correct badly written signs in public places with my own marker, and when I signed up for this I thought I'll have an orgasm from all the correcting that I'll do. Nope. Didn't happen.

I say good luck to that author.

Break over, more English words to produce.

Tuesday, June 02, 2009

The Downside

To cube-dwellers, working from home might sound like the absolute shit, much like being told they can eat chocolate for the rest of their lives but still have that toned body. Yes, it's amazing, particularly the part where the option to shower can totally be waived, or you can eat in front of the computer, but I'm here to tell you some things:

  • There are too many horizontal spaces at home, e.g., your bed, the couch, the carpet, the floor beside the TV. These horizontal spaces would constantly call out to you to lie on them. "Hey, look at my soft/shiny/clean/comfortable/all of the above surface, would you like to rest your back for a bit?" I'm telling you, you heed that call for one moment, just one weak moment, and there goes the day. In my first few weeks of breaking free from the bondage that is the time sheet I became best friends with all the horizontal spaces, and waking up at 6pm is a bit disorienting especially if you realize that your total waking hours adds up to only 5.
  • If you're a gadget person like I am, these gadgets would join the horizontal spaces in the chorus of calling out to you. What better way to spend the day than say, manipulating your Sims on your PSP while curled up in the coolness of your pillow? Or just listening to Sergio Mendes on your iPod under your comforter?
  • The easy access to third-world pirated DVDs of movies and TV series can be overwhelming, especially if you miscalculate the amount of free time you have. Your brain tells you suddenly you have 8 free hours a day, because the thing called Going to the Office was suddenly scrapped from your schedule. Thing is, you still have to work in that 8 hours if you want to eat. Maybe it's not the traditional 9 to 5 thing, but it's still 8 hours and maybe more.
  • I don't know about the others of my kind, but lately I'm busier. In the office there would be downtimes, like when you choose to ignore your filing maybe, or the chitchat in the bathroom. But now the deadlines are more real, and more intimidating. I love it, though.
  • The refrigerator is your frenemy. When you're just sitting there, typing, and the refrigerator is two steps away your stomach suddenly gets an opinion about things. Mine is whiny lately, like it's telling me how can I just sit there ignoring that glorious piece of contraption when I can make the effort of walking the two steps and take advantage of the wonderful things inside it? Of course I walk that two steps.
Bottom line is, if you don't have an incredible amount of self-discipline to set a structure for your new life, you'll just end up cramming and sleepless like I am. I'm still getting the hang of it, but when I really want to write seriously I take a shower first thing in the morning to signal my body that we're open for business for the day. Lately the distractions become less tempting, and when I'm able to ignore it I feel a small triumph of accomplishment.

But still, I won't have it any other way.

Monday, June 01, 2009

Third Quarter Reports

It's June!

And I haven't slept since May. Hahahahahahahahaha

It's not funny. I'm so tired. I want to chuck my laptop out of frustration. I'm sleepy and hungry and tired and I want it to rain more so I can sleep in peace in the midst of all the crap in my room. I have so much stuff lying around and I think they sleep with each other and get pregnant and give birth to more crap.

Ok, break is up. Back to editing. Someone buy me breakfast please.