Suburban Wit

2002-08-08T06:39:00.000-07:00

SuburbanWit fell weak to the temptation, and fled.

Please update your bookmarks.

2002-08-05T10:31:00.000-07:00

To the booby hatch and back!

B.N. Compulsion

I think my sister is going nuts.

Ever since she successfully got through her Board Exam, she could not flush it out of her system. She has not muttered a word that didn't concern medicine, technical terms, and all that scientific crap you can only find in three-inch thick books. Sometimes, she would just blurt out scientific terms whenever words came up. From plants, to trees, to medicines, down to different diseases, she had a say for them all. I could not imagine she all knew it by heart. Her 3 a.m. study habit must've really paid off. Good for her. As for the rest of us, all we could do was listen, and endure.

Unfortunately, she was actually having fun seeing us disgruntled and clueless after hearing her rat-a-tat like an automatic. I think, it has become an obsession. And let me assure you that she wasn't just showing off.

Okay, maybe I'm the one driving you clueless, or leaving you hanging aloft. I'm ready to spill the beans.

Instead of using the plain old terms for things, she would reel off their scientific names, Binomial nomenclature, if you will. Words that I could not even pronounce.Perhaps I'm just exaggerating. But it's pretty much like it.

We went to Tagaytay to visit once again, the convent we went to last month. The weather was bad, and so was my hair. My hair seemed to be stuck forming one whole bunch --- immovable, and dry. It's a complete mess I tell you. Anyway, as usual, every plant we passed by snagged my ate's attention. The first few hours was bearable. But after she sounded monotonous and loud, we all became irritated. She was like one of those pesky kids in candy stores who hid behind their mother's leg, and kept repeating any word that came up their heads. Like the one Bitter-pill and I encountered at the Metro Rail Transit Station last July 21. There was this little girl who babbled all the way to the station where we jumped off. For instance, the moment the doors opened when we reached the Santolan-Annapolis Station, she craned her neck over to see what the sign read, then sunk her waif body back to sit, and started muttering, "Santolan, Annapolis, Santolan, Annapolis, Santolan, Annapolis"--- fraught with real child's bluntness.

Anyway, my sister was absolutely like that. Pushy, but guileless. I mean all she thought was just to have fun. "Psidium Guajava!", she yelled when we drove past a couple of guava trees. "Cocos Nucifera!", when my dad pulled over to look at some plants to buy. "Hibiscus Rosaninensis!", as she spotted a gumamela nearby.

She was getting annoying for being so senseless. But the next several minutes were even worse. Tamarindus Indica! Zeya Mays! Ifomea Aquatica! Allium Sativum! All of them were getting in my serves. I scrunched my eyes shut as white-hot anger shot through my veins. Just as when I was about to explode, she suddenly became quiet. Apparently, she ran out of scientific terms, or maybe, she ran out of things to name and translate. Thank you God.

I implored my father to drive faster. Five minutes later, my mom asked dad to pull-over 'cause she was going to buy something for her amigas. I looked over to see that we were fast nearing a fruit stand. "God why me?!"

Fuck fuck fuck! Whew. That was fun. Now I know what my sister and that little girl were feeling.

2002-08-04T19:20:00.000-07:00

July 30, 2002

While we are giggling over Taxation Girl's blunder, Perky Veggie is meditating over a book titled, " Marriage: A Commitment".

Honestly, it gives me shudder every time a bitch goddess like the perky vegetarian suddenly becomes quiet and starts digesting all the words in that book. It makes the rest of us feel bad, really bad.

Anyway, just as we suspected, our sunny perky, and upbeat professor is up again, alive and kicking.

"It's so lalim." (It's so profound) as she fondly puts it while putting a hand on her cheeks and giggling.

Yuck. This is getting worse. I should contact a psychiatrist. Perhaps that way, I am doing her a favor.

Whoa. Pam is now raising her hand.

Honey, if you have a problem, I'm here.

****

I have this friend who I don't see anymore. She had migrated to the United States to study and work and die there. Probably even have her litters there. (Sorry for the language, I just hate her) Until now, I can't get her out of mind. No, she did not bring me the sexual awakening of my life, nor did she give me a big welt on my face and call me asshole. I just hate her for being so... condescending. She assumed she's superior than everybody. Ugh. She would pick on anyone and knowingly label them idiots AS IF she's the smartest head in the herd. She like seeing everyone grovel and approach her for favors. The sweet sound of flattery and favor was the loveliest melody she ached to hear. I really didn't give much of a damn (or a fart) about it, but I just couldn't stand the fact that she's getting swallowed up by this delusion. Pathetic. She was absolutely pathetic.

If ever we meet again, and she does the same thing to me, I'd just say, "Keep telling yourself that (inspired by Romy and Michele's High School Reunion) Because that's the only way you'll survive." and make sure that it would stick right to her face.

2002-07-30T22:45:00.000-07:00

Talk about having the surprise of your life.

These are one of the many keywords if you want to reach my blog through AOL Search (even though my guards are always up, I actually blanched after seeing these words):

girls + wit + boobs

Very wrong.
You be the judge.

2002-07-29T22:42:00.000-07:00

"Tell me, is it so bad to want something? Does it piss you off whenever I'm trying to enjoy the moment? Does it trigger your angst each time I am happy?"

"Hey, we all have our own things." - skimpily clad angel stripper (Jenna Elfman), Can't Hardly Wait

2002-07-27T20:33:00.000-07:00

Just for the sake of knowing my friends a bit more, I supplied you with a little list of what they think the future holds for me. Unfortunately, it was not about the career they think I would land into, but it was about the career I will likely shun. So,
Leidy took a small piece of paper and had it passed around the eight of us. We were told to fill it up with jobs that we will never end up with in the future. And we they came up with this:

So Leidy thinks I'm never going to be a janitor. (This proves that she knows me well after all)

Scrounging a lot of insult was Rock-hard knocker's. She really had the guts to write there "surfing dude". Fine.

The Retrogressive Prophetess foresees that I will not have a job that will require me to soil my hands, my shoes and my clothes. I am not going to be a farmer. Thank you Shine.

Wounded Sparrow thinks I'm not going to end up hauling troublesome boozehounds and party animals in seedy clubs or bars on the red-light district. In other words, I'm never going to be buffed, tall, menacing and feared by other people.

The Witch without a coven wrote: "Guard on a graveyard shift". Just so you know Witch, I can stay up until the wee hours of the morning for as long as I have the following:

1. Books

2. Computer with FAST (quadruple the emphasis) internet connection.

3. Food.

Pam, don't think I am idealistic again. I'm just being impossibly demanding here.

Lastly, Perky Veggie and Girlie Byte agreed on coming up with the career I would never even dare think of having. PRIEST.

Just so all of you know, I may be your naughty, swinish, grouchy and occasionally friendly, priggish, nonchalant friend, but who knows? I may end up joining a clergy, or founding a new religion (which poses as the most lucrative option), or even counseling the rest of you on marriage and commitment.

So beware.

2002-07-25T15:14:00.000-07:00

Just peeked out of my window after a series of yelling and wailing caught my attention. I immediately turned the lights off, and then slowly, and cautiously, I opened the blinds. Apparently, the scrap was coming from the nearby apartment. From my vantage point, only one girl is furiously and shamelessly cursing all over the place. I didn't quite grasp her exact words, but what came clear to me were the words, "Kahit patayin nyo na ako... (even if you killed me...)" What followed next were inaudible since maybe the girl, who was screaming at the top of her lungs, seemed as if she was locked behind a door, and just kept jabbering cuss words.

Or perhaps, I was just too busy reading my book that I did not want any interruption of any form stall me from doing my usual thing.

2002-07-24T12:13:00.000-07:00

July 24, 2002

If J has snot all over, I have yet encountered one of the most painful ordeal in personal hygiene history.

It was already running late. The store was closing in 30 minutes and I hadn't finished brushing my teeth. Let alone, I had not gone half-way through my entire ritual yet. Plus, I couldn't afford to be hindered by some guard at the store by refusing entry. Panic slowly coursed through my face. I had to grab at least one blank cassette tape for the interview tomorrow. I don't intend to re-use one of the tapes stacked at dusty shelves mounted on the wall. They all serve as my memories. Things that I shall treasure for the next couple of years.

While all of these things swirled inside my head, I hastily took my toothbrush and hoped that if I sped up my pace I would have enough time to rush to the mall, and buy that frigging blank tape before closing. ( I know that my mathematical acumen isn't that reliable, but when panic strikes, everything intensifies at the same time--- unfortunately, that include all regrettable factors as well. Fear, doubt, misery, to name a few.)

I brushed my teeth so fast, that it suddenly slipped out of my mouth, and got shoved straight into my nostrils (nares, to be precise). No, it didn't go all the way up to the thick rubber handle with all the bristles touching my olfactory innards (thank God). Life is not like cartoons after all. But it did hurt. It was as if I whacked myself with a regular ruler.

I cringed. It was so painful that I had to stop for a few seconds to check if I was bleeding. But the moment I saw myself in the bathroom mirror and found no trace of blood, I started laughing.

Yes, blog junkies, I can outgross the grossest.

2002-07-24T12:11:00.000-07:00

I watch you sit alone
I watch you cry your eyes out
Now tell me what you've done

Is it so bad that I would shut you out
And leave you here alone

Yes, I saw what you did
I was right there with you
I won't let you sink
No, I forgive you

You can be healed
You can be free
You can know peace
Never be afraid again

Never be afraid again
Never be afraid again

- PLUMB, Phobic

2002-07-24T12:09:00.000-07:00

Got surprised by an email sent by a friend all the way from London:

"Sorry if I got this all wrong, aren't blogs for girlie stuff?"

Ha. He certainly did miss a lot of reading lately. Weblogs (popularly known as blogs) are originally webpages where you can voice out your repressed sentiments and other thoughts especially meant for those living in a country where speech is dished out as privilege, not as right (thanks Ruthie). Most of the popular, widely-read and most-visited blogs are created by techies of the male species. That includes straight ones. Believe me.

2002-07-23T17:58:00.000-07:00

Found this link that may be helpful to all those who dream of spending the rest of their lives writing away from the office, and away from most nagging editors.

2002-07-22T10:13:00.000-07:00

Sunday, July 21,2002

Just got home after watching and exhausting all our energies out at the World's Women Volleyball Grand Prix held at the Araneta Coliseum. Russia (my personal favorite) bagged the championship title after effortlessly impaling most Brazilian players in three straight sets (whoopee! wahoo! <applauds>)

We practically had fun screaming our lungs out, cheering for our bets and excoriating the guy in front of bitter-pill who kept making annoying and inappropriate coaching suggestions as if either one of the coaches would hear and heed to him. By "practically" I mean ALMOST, since we were seated right in the middle of the standoffish, most boring crowd--- the oldies. The people who can only react on an exhilarating development of a certain game by gushing out a single "ayy!!"

Sitting beside me was a Japanese couple who kept standing up to go to god-knows-where places. Yes, it may seems harmless, and very much none of our damned business, but what really rankled the two of us was the fact that every time they leave their places, we had to enduringly crunch our legs up against our seats just so there would be enough space for them to walk through. Plus, I could not even rest my tired arms in the armrest because there was a hot cup of Starbucks (mmm…) coffee carefully placed on the cup holder. Ugh.

So in the end, all of them made us look like full-time raving idiots who needed psychotherapy. Good thing Russia won.

****

Can't get this one out of my head. A thing the host should have watched out for.
"KOTEX Pantyliners is looking for those who are wearing pink....." (trails off for a few milleseconds) I thought he was gonna say "pantyliners" also for purposes of keeping up with the image of their sponsor (ha ha). "T-shirts".
Groan.

2002-07-22T10:08:00.000-07:00

Ellen Miller has a say to the emotions and other things churning inside my system that probably make my head spin all the time. I just hope this comes comprehensible enough:

"I could have found out I had the virus sooner, but you didn't tell me what you knew. That's killing someone, and you're telling me--- you have the unbelievable nerve to tell me--- that I killed you?"

"We killed each other."

That's where you're wrong. Very wrong. Because this time, I was the only one killed. Then comes the clincher...

"How the hell did you come up with that?"

Tell me. I won't bite you. I know the purpose of ears.

2002-07-21T22:02:00.000-07:00

***

Down to the earth I fell

With dripping wings - heavy things won't fly

And the sky might catch on fire

And burn the axis of the world, that's why

I prefer a sunless sky

To the glittering and stinging in my eyes

- Nina Gordon, "Tonight and the Rest of My Life

2002-07-20T19:58:00.000-07:00

Disclaimer: The author reminds the readers not to read between the lines anymore because this blog entry has no room for guessing. And oh, he wishes you to help him sew back his tattered clothes, and amputated appendages.

"Hindi naman ikaw N", (You're out of this N). And so it comes down to the two of us. We were being accused of participating in an alleged conspiracy, err, in an unheard conspiracy. We were being labeled cabal, and deliberately called traitors. Traitors who don't know the value of reciprocity according to his claims. Well, maybe he should think first of the offensive words coming out of his vile mouth. I was cursed for no apparent reason. I was cursed because of someone else's paranoia. I mean, two hours before this commotion happened, I was just doing my job. A job that he has long been prying on, been forever meddling, treating me like an imbecile incapable of working alone. Now, he is shouting out loud that I am not doing my job, that I was inefficient, that I was the sly fugitive who turned his back against him. I could not believe he would utter those words.

Maybe he was forgetting some important things. I was not the one who pretended and knowingly assumed authority in the first place. I was not the one who stood before a number of people and kept blabbering I was still the legitimate almighty.

Never, in my life, did I dream of becoming the all-powerful being whose words serves as the absolute prevailing law. Never did I prefer to condescend among my colleagues (instead of working altogether) then later call them inefficient behind their back. Never did I reason out unintelligently before my superior and insist on wronged belief. And most importantly, never did I dupe my colleagues by intentionally hiding the truth from them.

Perhaps he couldn’t believe (or still refuses to) that people can live by their conviction. And not everything in life revolves around personal motives and politics.

He is hypocrisy incarnate.

From this day forward, I shall put this concern way over my head and promise myself never to come near this person again, lest I might get lured and swayed by the devil's tongue.

If there’s one person who got stabbed and minced down to microscopic bits, it was I. I who trusted you— the gullible person you tricked.

At least now I know that I live by my conviction — rightful, unselfish and unbigoted conviction. And I’m not politicking about it.

***
How I wish every person sick with delusion in this damned world would suddenly wake up from their illness and be better than ever.

2002-07-16T10:01:00.000-07:00

Monday, July 16, 2002

Our house is getting festered by termites. Those fucking wood-nibblers that pose great threat of munching down our house. Those tiny monsters that could, and would (Oh, god, please) pulverize and powder our century-old house down to the tiniest bit. My dad is already growing peeved and problematic because they seem to be persistent. So, for the last two days, my dad is busy spraying Solignom all over the place to the point that I get squeamish each time I go near our living room. He sprayed so much of that pesticide that the entire house is cloying with nauseous chemicals.

One-fourth of all the wood furnishings were taken out. The infested cornices were already dumped outside to rot and decay. But before they were thrown out, my father, of course, did a couple of spraying just to make sure not a single termite would survive (I doubt it). I thought that the colony was small, but I was wrong, very wrong. As I approached to have a closer look, I saw that the floor, where most of the cornices were laid, was crawling with these hungry predators. I could not imagine that they can multiply that fast.

On the other hand, these insects are quite interesting actually. Not only their queen spawns hundreds of broods in a rapid rate, but also, amongst other closely related species, which are ants, wasps, bees that can also form colonies, termites are the only ones capable of forming true societies. (Let’s just say they're luckier 'cause they don't have to put up with the crap we're going through, like politics. Ugh.)

Moreover, they are referred to as the "white ants" because of their semblance and similar life cycles and habits to the common ant. They both have sets of workers, soldiers, supplementary reproductives, and a king and a queen, which stand as the primary reproductives. In case you're wondering what supplementary reproductives do, they practically sit and wait until new colonies are formed or in case the queen fails to accomplish her duties (this fact must've been invaded by the "beauty pageant" way of thinking, huh Jason?

2002-07-13T09:50:00.000-07:00

Friday, July 12, 2002

We were soaked for it poured horse and cow piss. UST has again transmogrified into one giant island that left huge throngs of drenched students and agitated commuters scurrying for cover. For most of us, who've been accustomed to occasional wading, through the deep Thomasian ocean, rain meant excitement, and thrill. And for every exciting and thrilling experience, there's surely one unforgettable incident that shall always remind me in the future. For this day, this is it:

Place: Inundated Goldilocks Laong-Laan. Time: Around 7 p.m. All of us had to get to the other sidewalk. But that entailed trudging the ankle-deep murky waters and passing through a narrow strip of gutter, which at that time, posed as the sole access to the other side.

And so we took turns. Roused by the adventure we would be getting into, I was the first one to step forward. Being scrawny but agile, nimble and all, I was able to cross the blasted flood through that constricting piece of elevated cement. (Hey, being paper-thin is not bad after all.)

Ruth, too was able to get through that shithole (don't ask me how she did it. I could not believe it either.) And then came Pam's turn.

Something I wouldn't miss for the world.

I was running my fingers through my wet and icky hair while watching Pam struggle. Unfortunately, the perky vegetarian was not so perky that moment. And so she got stuck--- a few inches just above the waters' reach and a huge attention-grabbing sight for everyone to witness.

Just imagine her, looking cramped at the edge of the gutter and probably sticking her face against the steel stanchion that kept her from falling and plunging into the putrid waters--- symmetrically dividing her body with her left hand painfully gripping the other steel post, holding on to dear life. What surprised me was that she was actually having fun, despite being stuck there without having plans of asking for help. Or maybe she was just too busy giggling. I could not figure out.

She seemed as if she were Spiderwoman, and a wall-climbing ability gone wrong.

2002-07-13T09:46:00.000-07:00

I thought I've read it all, but this takes the cake. Excerpts from Like Being Killed :

"I'm not done with you yet."

... then he fucked me with a gun. It was warm and wet from my mouth, and it felt hardly more mechanical than the average penis. Ho Bum. After a while, he shifted it slightly, held it still, fixing it in one place, and I waited in panic--- panic that he would, panic that he wouldn't--- but he didn't fire. I had seen the gun-in-the-pussy trick before, too, in books and movies and magazines. His imagination was failing.

I didn't enjoy having the gun up in my ass, but I had expected it. The plumber was obsessed with my anus and ass-fucking to a degree that made me doubt his heterosexuality. He fucked me with it for a while, then he just held it inside, pushed to the hilt, unmoving. I imagined that he was positioning it accurately. It hurt, a lot, but I kept telling myself that after this I would enjoy permanent relief from pain, bodily and otherwise...When he finished butt-fucking me with the gun, he brought it towards my lips. Not this routine again. I thought about the oral-fecal route of hepatitis. I kept forgetting that soon I wouldn't have to worry anymore.

I sucked the gun, and sucked and sucked and licked and kissed and suck some more.

I sucked for a long time.

2002-07-12T22:22:00.000-07:00

First Night

Touch the tenderness of innocence
Taste the sourness of the first blood
Feel the warmth of breath gushing out of the parted lips
Experience the throbbing of the fresh and the virginal
Now in your hands
Now in your control.

Behind those lips you shall explore
The new found beauty waiting to be exhumed.
As you enter the well-kept forbidden
You shall find what you have been longing for:
The heaven your heart mellifluously speaks of
That exists years after the spouting of the first blood.

2002-07-11T08:50:00.000-07:00

White Elephant

Today I saw the mountain weep
And bow down on its knees
To taste the sourness of the earth
And slug down the bitter pill of humiliation
Like a cowering prey
At the mercy of his devourer
Imploring a quick and painless death.

Today I witnessed the heavens opened,
And out a mighty god was kicked down,
I watched as he plummeted from the clear blue skies
Faster and faster, head first.

2002-07-09T09:47:00.000-07:00

Ruthie, start scratching your head and commence thinking.

2002-07-09T09:40:00.000-07:00

Tuesday, July 9, 2002

Three straight days without blogging. Yes, I'm the traitor, I'm the culprit, I'm the stupid twerp who should be burned at stake for deliberately stalling the spirit of blogging, shoot me, now. Pam probably thinks I'm losing my mind. A day without blogging is like hell. Passing for two days is still tolerable. Three days, and you're putting your health on hazardous grounds. Honestly, I didn't even realize it until Pam phoned me up just to let out a startling discovery. Maybe because I got so engrossed for the past few days over the book I still am reading. The plot seems to be getting more complicated so I thought of not leaving it until the plot ended. Eventually my eyes were getting strained already from the small size of the fonts, which made me put it down and rest for a while. You know, one of the biggest criterion for me when it comes to shopping for books is the font style and its size. I don't really give a fuzz about its cover, nor the title, even the author. Okay maybe a little. I really hate it when the letters are so compressed and jam-packed into one page that from afar, you could almost form images in your head (like it could pass as three-dimensional design). Or the ones with lots of spaces where you can even scrawl between the lines detailed explanation of whatever's being discussed in the text. Oftentimes, it would make you even wonder why it was placed under the Gen. Fiction instead of the Children's Story Books section.
Four hours ago, I got a copy of Wuthering Heights. Since the bookstore was ready to close, I didn't have much time to thoroughly examine the copy. For P69.00, I thought I have saved a lot. But the moment I skim through a couple of pages, everything changed. Small font, bleary print, cheap recycled paper. I could not get angry or have the strength to throw the book out of my window. Maybe because I realized I was too stupid not to wonder why it was sold at a very low price. Very wrong.

2002-07-09T09:33:00.000-07:00

Tuesday, July 9, 2002

For a change, I had tuyo for breakfast. I never thought I would be able to eat that kind of food since I'd shunned it all my life. It was only until we ate at Tapa King when I really appreciated the brackish taste of it. Actually, I'm beginning to enjoy it. But I'm not saying it's gonna be a staple part of my diet. Not in a million years.

2002-07-04T10:52:00.000-07:00

The whole house was jumping up and down, screaming left and right. Just to let you know, my sister just passed at the recent Pharmacist Licensure Board Exam. All of us are too overwhelmed by the news. It came first as a phone call from one of my ate's friends from her soccer team. She said that they actually went there at PRC (ever since I heard this acronym, I haven't asked what these letters stand for. So stop asking.) to check it out. Since it was pouring cow and horse piss for hours already, they (the people responsible for my sis' burden over the past few months) were unable to post it outside their building that's why lots of examinees were queued up--- swarming the immediate vicinity, patiently waiting for the inevitable. So, it was the security guard who stood and played martyr for the meantime. They (ate's friends) approached the guard, told him the name, and went off. They instantly called ate, who was a nervous wreck the whole time, told her to brace herself, and then broke the news. Unfortunately, I wasn't home to witness all of this but my mom told me that even before the news could sink in my sis' head, she was already wailing. I understand her great joy.
To confirm this bit of information, my mom insisted on searching it on the internet. So, we resorted to our ever-reliable computer, logged on, and clicked away. After wading through different dizzying websites, yet some of them, despite the colors and eye-candies, offered nothing, we found the results. The next thing I remember was seeing mom's eyes misty, and hearing the shallow breathing of my ate. And oh, plus the nonstop merriment that followed.

* I give her my warmest congratulations, and sincerest good luck for the life ahead of her. At least now she can sleep more soundly.

2002-07-03T08:43:00.000-07:00

Male Bonding at the Royal Tire Supply
How else could you better understand your father aside from accompanying him even for hours at the hardware store, or sitting beside him while watching the Formula 1 Racing on cable? Of course, show interest and care for his other worthy possession, the family car. For him, this four-wheeled vehicle is like a gem that completes his existence. Often times, he thinks that it is one of the few reasons why people work, earn and save. He considers cars as the extension of his manhood --- no, am not putting an analogy between cars and dicks. What I am suggesting is the fascinating maxim of male species regarding cars, trucks, and other supermachines: the flashy it is, the bigger the almighty ego. For many, including me, one way to a woman's heart is through her whims. It is never changing rule that makes some girls fall weak, enamored, or even salivate. Girls want to be treated like primadonnas, the apple of all eyes, the princess of a thousand suitors, the infinite star of the night, the supermodel for all eternity. (Don't bite yet. Admit it or not, I'm positive that there are fleeting moments in your life that you fancy of becoming a supermodel who flips her confidently while strutting amongst a huge throng of beings with extra appendages between their legs.)
Anyway, I am happy that my father and I had a great time together discussing one particular topic while we were at the Royal Tire Supply having the tires done and changed of course. The threads are getting frayed off and the entire surface's wearing down in case you're wondering. I had the chance to survey an array of magwheels carefully displayed on steel racks mounted on the walls. Good thing I don't own a car yet or else, I would be insisting my mom to shell out bucks for a set of bronze mags that I have been dreaming to get my hands on.
For someone who never frequents places like this and never get himself acquainted with the infos regarding car parts, questions immediately flooded my head. Fortunately, my dad did not get agitated by my flimsy queries. He was able to withstand even questions which an average person could categorize below the imbecilic level.
As usual, I arrived late (tardiness is one crazy habit I'm having a hard time dealing with. You might want to know). By the way, I dropped by at the Philippine Star office to pick up my (drumroll please) pay check, er, my first ever pay check (cheers, cheers, cheers) After Aling Becks handed it to me, I stared at it for a few moments and relished the feel of my labor of love before shoving it in my backpack.
Today is a heck of a happy day for me.

2002-07-01T16:49:00.000-07:00

Our dog, who happened to be pregnant (that's what we thought), died a few hours ago. She was found by my mom slumped dead in front of the gate leading to our backyard. She laid there in the grubby and smelly ground with her togue stuck out. We could not surmise the cause of her death yet but am still hoping to know about it by the end of the day.
I felt so sullen for a couple of minutes while I held the flashlight to light the spot on the ground where my dad was making her grave.
I wanted to give her flowers but all I did was to whisper a sincere 'goodbye'.
I knew that was enough for the meanwhile.
I offer her a moment of silence.

2002-07-01T09:35:00.000-07:00

For 6-30-2002. Unlike the usual mornings when I get up with unexplainable bravado, this morning, I woke up disoriented. It was because of my older sister who kept banging on my door for at least ten times thinking that knocking won't do any better to wake me up. Apparently, I only had 3 hours of sleep. Thanks to the wonders of blogger and email that stalled me from dozing off early. (Somebody stop me before I totally turn my back against it!)

***

Today is the day I communed with my faith once again. My sis woke me up and left me disgruntled for a couple of minutes because we had to be at the ehem, church as early as 8:30 (am not a morning person you know). Not only that. Right after the mass, we immediately drove off to Tagaytay to pay a short visit to the holy congregation of the Pink Sisters (am not kidding, that's the name of the place. I swear) The place was absolutely serene and very much inviting to people who seek spiritual regeneration, and relaxation at the same time. Although large throngs of devout could easily crowd the place, you would still consider the place an ideal place of worship because of the clean, green and natural feel of the atmosphere. Sigh.

2002-06-28T19:13:00.000-07:00

My head is ready to crack open. My headache keeps getting worse. I need to see a doctor. Somebody told me that it might be migraine I'm suffering because of the unusual attacks of pain in some portions of my head, and I'm not happy about it.

I'm totally moot.

***
Sometimes, when idiosyncrasy strikes, the most unimaginable happens. Take for example my friends, Pam and Kathy who, without warning, undergoes a groping frenzy all of a sudden. They deliberately touch, (at times, pummel) each others boobs like it were a normal thing to do. I, myself, freeze on the spot. They run around, scream like the girls way back in elementary do, tickle, touch or stirke one floating device after another then make buzzing sounds as if they were on a goddam gameshow. I mean, what would others think if they see such scenario? Maybe priggish girls would huddle around and babble about it for the whole week. But for most guys, DROOL, I'm sure.

Men are so attracted to sexually lesbian innuendos, you know.

2002-06-26T06:36:00.000-07:00

Woke up this morning, sick as usual. Thank God I didn't die in my sleep. I immediately went to the bathrooom, washed my face, and headed downstairs for breakfast.

5:45 p.m. my mom woke me up asking me to drive my sister to the church. Ugh. This was great, so fucking great. I was in a middle of my deep sleep, which I terribly needed considering I'm sick and all, when someone inconsiderate enough to wake me up. Of course I instantly switched into my almighty grouchy mode. Don't think it's a part of my defense mechanism.

By the way, something really terrible occurred. I happened to come across the blog of my friend Jason that really startled me. The thing I completely dread all my life. Someone accused him of the biggest crime you could ever commit in journalism practice. Plagiarism. Not only that, he accused him of copying--- verbatim. Word for word, that's what the letter contained.
The letter was sent by someone whom Jason knew a few years back. Actually, it was an interview Jason,which back then, did in desperation to feature someone or something. He claimed that he was the one who wrote that article but Jason was the one who claimed authorship. It turned out that this asshole sent the letter to the editor to gain attention. Apparently, he dreams of becoming a lifestyle writer, er, he drools of having a shot at the big-timers. His ulterior motives eventually came out. Cajoling, wheedling, or gentle flattery or whichever way you call it, they're all the same. He sure did prove he's an all-time pretentious swinish cocky idiot. Pathetic. All mouth, no brain I'm sure.

Much of my sympathy goes to my friend, who I'm sure,was very much hurt for what happened. You see, when someone just walks up on you and try to threaten and putrify the very noble thing which gives you the reason to live, it is so not funny. It is not as if it were a practical joke you can take back just as easy as shitting and then not feel guilty after all the damage you caused. For someone who led an unblemished career for two years, carefully taking it by heart, and then one day unexpectedly receives a big slap for no reason at all, a big suppurating wound is left behind.

If we want something, we have to gain it the hard way. We don't have to pull others down just because we want to take their places. Unless you're ready to bear the words "pretentious swinish cocky idiot".

If the day comes someone rings up my future boss, and accuses me of plagiarism, it is undoubtedly, the beginning of the third world war, so deadly that it would wipe out half of the islands in the pacific, plus a forth of the planet uninhabitable.

I'm not joking.

2002-06-23T11:01:00.000-07:00

Until today, I can't seem to forget the things that happened to me last May 23-- my last shot a perfect summer vacation. Not only I had experienced what it's like to go to office everyday, and stay up very late just to finish one issue but also I knew what real hard work and dedication was. One of my recollections is the day I went to Palawan. Two days before "d-day", my boss seemed to be deprecatory about a trip with people (actually they're my good friends) from the other paper. Maybe she (my boss) thought I didn't like staying in their office anymore. Perhaps she even got pissed off or dismayed the moment I told her about it, I really don't know. What I do know is that it wasn't a very good idea for her. Oh well. Did I feel sorry? Maybe, maybe not. But I totally enjoyed and savored the experience.

Here's a short article about the trip:

Exit to Eden: The Palawan Experience

Perfect sun, pristine waters, white sand, and serenity. This was the promise of a perfect summer jaunt that was Palawan.

Forget Everything
One way of maximizing your vacation to its fullest is not to think of the life you left behind. "No text messaging, no internet, no phone calls", this was my mantra for four days and three nights- an ever-strengthening chant I clung to until I got inside the plane back to Manila. I even betrayed reading, despite being the number one love of my life. I wanted nothing to come my way and ruin this great trip. And besides, I needed some break.
The moment we arrived at Hotel Fleuris, I rushed to my room, and immediately slumped myself on the bed with so many things swirling inside my head- things that were bugging me for the last couple of weeks. Forget about your friends who are back there in Manila, forget about school which starts in two weeks, forget about your apprenticeship that has just ended, forget about your delusion of having your ideal weekend in Boracay. It's over Gabby, it's totally over.
"Gabby, forget everything for the meantime," I muttered to myself.
And so I did. Then slowly, the things I was worrying about started slipping away.

Cut Loose
In my fancy, I was walking on a different plane of earth. Palawan seemed so remote, not because of its distance from Manila, or because it reeked rural life, but because of its splendor you would not imagine it existed. So much splendor that we found ourselves wide-eyed and almost gasping every time we arrive from one destination to another. It was that beautiful. I'll tell you the rest later.
One of the joys of being in a place where no one knew you was having the chance of breaking loose from your normal self. Don't you like the moments when you get to run like crazy without worrying that someone else might restrict you from doing so? Or the moments when you feel like eating as savagely as you can possibly bear just for the fun of it without worrying some priggish person might get offended? Palawan has a room for personal peculiarities, you know. So there's nothing really to be anxious of.

Underground River
This was one spot where earth displayed its spectacle. It is a colossal cave with a river flowing right under and through the large crevices that connected the rest of the convoluted 'chambers' of the cave. The stalactites and stalagmites were also to watch out for. These were the deposits that took in the forms of inanimate objects, animals, or even human figures over the centuries.
As our tour guide paddled slowly from one dark chamber of the cave to another- each chamber growing more and more menacing, I could not help but feel so tiny, like a runt that could easily get squashed any time. Nevertheless, I enjoyed the entire tour even if we hadn't even gone halfway through the entire course. They said it would take us three days to reach the end, and three more days to get back. "Gee, thanks na lang," I might be into that kind of adventure, but three days? I don't think so. If fifteen minutes were just enough to keep me perky and attentive, three days would definitely be a nightmare.

Sabang Beach
If you really hate the beach, then don't ever go here. Not even a glimpse of this place would help in keeping yourself true to your bote of cursing summer.
The second our boat reached the shores of Sabang, we all gasped. "Para tayong nasa Boracay," said Menchie Osial of Globe Telecoms while she gingerly took her clogs off and savored the feel of the fine sand against her toes.
We knew it was the place we had been all searching for. It captured nature's beauty in its simplest form. To many, it might seem like a vast piece of barren land, but to me, it was paradise. Actually, tranquility is the right word.
With the waters clear and tempting, and the air so relaxing, plus no one else was in sight, I suddenly got the urge of running towards the water and embrace every wave that splashed my way. I didn't even care if I was going to get drenched. But that idea was immediately dropped after the thought of getting in the van soaked snuck up on me.

Dos Palmas
Our boat started to glide away from the shore and trek the deep blue waters again when I gave this island one last glimpse. As I squint at the entirety of it, I found beauty once again, and peace as well. Suddenly, I felt so hollow by the enormity of the treasure we have been missing.
"I shall come back", a promise I whispered to myself in an almost inaudible voice as my attention fled from the sight before me to the monotonous chugging of the boat's engine- a dramatic end to my wondrous summer sojourn.
I could not bear it. I wanted to stay.

In a nutshell, Palawan is one major destination to experience the time of your life. I definitely had mine. Through the crocodile farm, I got terrified; through the Butterfly garden, I learned how to appreciate the treasures of mother nature more, especially those that come in small sizes; through the Underground river and other islands, I got the opportunity to commune with nature;
And finally, through the people I met who have been a part of my whole summer experience, I found family. A once-in-a-lifetime experience I shall never forget.

2002-06-12T07:27:00.000-07:00

It's the first the first day of classes and I didn't go to school. Ha! How's that for a change? If before I wake up perky and excited to go to school, well, this time, I'm taking everything a notch slower, and at my own pace. Take note: at my own pace. Not that I have decided to waste all those years of hardwork, nor I got tired of getting up and leaving home. Maybe I'm just extending my vacation. Perhaps I need it. I need to re-think and de-stress my entire vacation hangover as well as my summer hell-hole.
I woke up feeling good today. I immediately grab my copy of Ellen Miller's Like Being Killed (actually I just borrowed it from a friend, which if memory serves me right, has been with me at about 2 years, and 5 months now) "Do I feel guilty?" you might ask. Not at all buster. Not even in a thousand years. Because I certainly am enjoying every line of it, munching and digesting all the words into my lexicon and savoring the pleasure it gives me. Haha. Seriously, I still do have plans of returning it. By the time I'm done with it, that is.

2002-06-05T22:19:00.000-07:00

6/5/2002
10:45 pm just got home from watching A Walk To Remember. What was expected to be an awe-inspiring jaw-dropping, wonderfully riveting movie turns out as one major disappointment. Not that the cast sucked big time (that's another point), but the spirit of the book never was there. It completely taken a different identity far-off from the internationally bestselling book.I would like to quote Nicholas Sparks, "it doesn't seem to be the story we grew to love." Though this observation is good at some points, it never quite lived up to everyone's expectation. Shane West seemed the same from beginning until the end of the movie even if he stated he's a completely different person, and Mandy Moore, well, although the role called her to be timid, quiet, and as harmless as possible a baptist's daughter could be, her eyes still sparkled that coquettishglint as if inviting every onlooker to come closer. Very wrong.
Don't come to watch the movie while the entire plot of the novel is still fresh in your head. I was completely cooped up during the entire film. Nevertheless, I can never turn my back against Nicholas Sparks, so I'm giving a measly credit for having a fine ending.

2002-06-03T06:50:00.000-07:00

First things first, I will write what I want, what I know and what I believe in. Whatever I post, whether total niceties or absolute aspersions, they're none of your business. I am not making choices for you anyway.
It was Stephen King who asked, "Do you need someone to make you a paper badge with the word 'writer' on it before you can believe you are one?".
No. I definitely don't.